Disclaimer: (Sarcasm) I lied, I do own overwatch. How did you ever find out? (End Sarcasm) I hate disclaimers.
Author (Alec) Note: I am sorry this came out later then I had originally said. Thank you for all your support and patience. We are two college kids and we are doing our best. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 3: Je Désiree un Boisson
A month had come and gone since Lena had received her own tables and a long evening of waiting tables was coming to a close, the last of the patrons was filing out and made their way into the chilled air of the night. As she bid the last few people a good night, Lena strode around the floor, collecting all left over plates and tips left out, putting the silverware and remaining flatware away before removing the bills from the faux leather folder and tucking them into her pants pocket. Much like other nights, the occurrence and frequency of bills had reached an above average level, forming a nice folded wad lining the fabric of her dress pants.
Lena made her way into the side room next to the kitchen, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she leaned onto the granite counter top, waiting for one of the slow, touch screen computer to wake up. It took a few taps in the center of the screen for the aged machinery to process, the waitress letting out a satisfied sigh once everything caught up to speed. She began to type out her given employee sign in, making a jab at the smaller button in the corner, clocking herself out for the night and putting an end to her shift. Turning around, she began making her way out of the side room.
Instantly, she was stopped in her tracks, the bartender becoming a roadblock as they both halted, the larger woman blocking the door frame. "Sorry about that." She said, moving to the side, only for Lena to have done the same, providing no positive result from the action.
"After you," the waitress said, stepping out of the doorway on her side, allowing Zarya through. With a nod in thanks, she beelined towards the only computer awake and began the same process Lena had just finished.
Her fingers hit the screen with a somewhat forceful jab, the noise of tapping filling the still air as the glitchy system froze on her. "Got any plans?" She asked, thick voice cutting through the passive aggressive jabs at the nonresponsive tech.
Absentmindedly, Lena had been patting her pockets, making sure nothing had fallen out or became misplaced throughout the course of her shift. With the blatant address, she looked up and over at the Russian who had managed to make the slow system do her bidding."Not that I know of. Why?" she asked, a bit confused at the question; both in nature and motive.
"Good, then you're coming with me." Zarya stated, making a final tap, the screen soon lighting up with a final message before processing the clock out, refreshing the page to its home screen once done. Having no other plans, she gave her shoulders a slight shrug, decided to follow the larger woman. As they made their way through the main dining room, Lena waved at a few of the co-workers still on duty, bidding them all a good evening. The larger woman reached for one of the glass doors at the front of the building, grasping the thick, golden handle and pulling it open, exposing the outside world and the chill to follow alongside it.
Lena followed her out of the restaurant, allowing herself to be led across and down the street, walking quickly to keep up with the other's longer strides. The two turned a corner, the yellowing lights of the streetlamps and neon signs illuminating their path and the large cluster of businesses calling the street home. Zarya turned away from the middle of the sidewalk, reaching across and pulling open a glass door decorated with a black, block-lettered decal reading 'Overwatch Bar and Grill'.
The two slipped into the warmth of the room, shutting out the cold and darkness from the outside as music and lively chatter lit up the atmosphere. The medium-sized space was painted with light grey and pale turquoise tones across the walls, accented with the orange-tanned wood of thick panels lain across the surface. Comfortable dark leather booths pressed against the back wall while throughout the stone tiled floor lain small, square wooden tables, each accented with tall, pint glasses and an assortment of plates in the middle, dark napkins placed in front of every seat. Across the white painted ceiling strung rows of small circular lights, providing specific illumination across the tables and floor, adding to the comforting yet elegant design.
A long, polished oak bar sat towards the back wall of the establishment, forming a u-shaped counter around the glass shelves covered with endless amounts of different spirits. The front mirrored side of the bar was surrounded by a number of metal, leather seated stools, a handful of patrons taking refuge towards the left side of the counter.
Behind the bar stood a man wearing a typical white shirt and vest, each sleeve rolled and pinned past his elbows. Across his face lain bushy yet well groomed facial hair that sat around his mouth and along his jawline, thick sideburns connecting it to his medium length brunette hair. He had turned around, grabbing two bottles of an amber liquor, setting them on the counter before counting out the appropriate amount of shot glasses and setting them in front of himself, placing them all in a straight line. "It's High Noon," he said, the two bottles now held in either hand poised over the line before him and began pouring, starting from the middle and working his way to the outside. With only a short tip, each glass was filled with the speed and precision only a professional could execute, all liquid measuring at the same level. Satisfied with his work yet again, he spun the bottles akin to that of a flashy gunslinger, setting either one back down on the counter in front of him before pushing the smaller glasses to the rightful owners.
After giving the counter in front of him a quick swipe with an off-white washcloth and putting the bottles back in their proper places, the man took all of two seconds to notice noticed Zarya making her way towards the bar, Lena in tow. "Look what the cat dragged in," he said, his voice laced with a drawl unmistakably southern accent.
The larger woman snorted a laugh, planting herself on one of the barstools directly in front of the tender, placing an elbow onto the darkened wood. "Look who's talking," she shot back, the corner of her lip turned up in a smirk.
"And who's this?" He asked, eyes parting from the familiar friend to get a better look at the shorter brunette, sliding into the seat next to her.
She reached out a hand, holding it across the counter. "Hey there, love, I'm Lena." The bartender took it, his calloused and tanned hand grasping her smaller one in a firm shake.
"Name's McCree. Now, what can I do for such a lovely lady?" he asked, slipping the washcloth lain across the counter into one of his pants pockets, most of the terrycloth sticking out of his pants.
"You can get us some shots, she's earned it." Zarya said sternly, her voice still laden with stress from her previous shift. Given how packed and rushed the evening had been, the taller women knew that Lena needed it as much as she did, if not more so.
McCree reached under the bar and pulled out a shot glass, already knowing what his friend was going to ask for. "The usual then I'm guessing?"
"Of course."
The bartender turned around, grabbing for the medium sized clear bottle of her typical drink of choice. "Your friend over there doesn't seem like the type who would partake in vodka" He commented, twisting off the glass pourer attached to the lip of the spirit.
"Fine then, what would you want?" She asked, turning slightly to see Lena already scanning over the rows of bottles.
She thought for a few seconds, weighing her options before deciding to leave it completely up in the air much like the rest of the night had been already. "I'm good with whatever, love"
McCree smiled "Whatever the lady wants," he said before setting up another glass next to the original. Putting the bottle into position, he perfectly replicated the stunt he had done earlier, quickly pouring perfectly into each shot glass without a single drop missed or extra added. He set the bottle down, sliding the glasses to either of them.
Lena's eyes opened wide upon seeing this, more than impressed with the move and its execution. "Whoa, how'dya do that?" She asked, getting a closer took at the glasses, each one holding the perfect, exact amount.
"I've got a deadeye and a quickdraw. Perfect ounce every time." McCree said, popping the glass spout onto the bottle before putting it back into its place. "Enjoy you two." He said before raising his hand to his brow level, tipping an imaginary hat in their direction before shifting his focus to three new patrons on the other side of the bar.
Zarya pounded down her first shot, placing the glass back onto the counter with a slight clink. "So..How about you tell me about yourself."
Lena took half a shot, swallowing the small mouthful of liquid, setting the glass down onto the counter as the burning began to sting the back of her throat. She turned to Zarya. "Not much to say, love. I moved here roughly eight months ago and I'm just trying to get my footing."
"Where did you live before?" The larger woman asked, leaning her elbows onto the stained wood in front of her.
"London," She said finishing her shot, tipping back the last half of the ounce, the familiar burning bubbling up again. "and you?"
"My family moved here when I was little. I don't remember much, but I go to visit my grandparents back home at least once a year."
"You like it here?" Lena asked, soon getting cut off by the jarring bells of her ringtone. She pulled it from her pocket, eyes widening at the number flashing on the small screen. The waitress placed a hand over the phone, attempting to cover it up and make it look as if it was no one important.
"Pick it up, I don't mind," she said, downing another shot placed in front of her, offered to her by the friendly bartender.
Lena did, opening up her phone and taking the call "Ello, there." She began, placing the receiver to her ear. Only slight mumbling could be heard on the other side, nothing too audible. Lena continued to reply to whatever the other person was saying. "Yeah, are you calling about the room?" she paused, giving the other person time to speak. "That would be great. When can I move in?" Another pause. "Awesome, I'll see you then, bye." Lena then hung up somehow looking even more cheerful than usual.
Zarya had made herself useful in the moment of one-sided conversation by ordering herself two more shot, being downed one in a matter of seconds. "What was that about?" She asked, pushing one of the glasses on the polished wood, lining it up with the others.
The waitress slumped into the short backed barstool, relieved that the search had finally concluded after multiple weeks. "I've been looking for a new place and someone finally called back. I'll be moving in next weekend."
"Oh that's great. Would you want some help moving everything?" She offered, pounding down the last of her shots before setting the glass down onto the counter.
"That would be great. Thanks, love." Lena said with a smile, slipping her phone back into its pocket.
- Un Jour Plus Tard - -One Day Later-
Another shift came to an end and after Lena had clocked out, she found herself standing in front of the closed door to the manager's office. She took a deep breath before raising up her hand, knocking lightly on the painted wood surface.
"Come in," the familiar voice called out from the other side.
Grasping the handle, Lena turned the knob, and pushed the door open slowly. She was greeted by the sight of the other woman sitting cross-legged at her computer, polished fingers poised over the keyboard as she finished typing up the sentence she was on. "Hey there," The waitress began, taking a step into the small, plain office. " I was hoping I could talk to you. If you had some time, that is."
Amélie turned away from her desk and facing the young woman in front of her. She ran her eyes over the smaller girl, not too thrilled with the sudden interruption. "And what would that be?" She asked, her eyes beginning to narrow.
Lena shut the door behind her without prompt, closing it with a click. "I was hoping I could ask for some more hours." Her tone of voice wavered slightly, anxiousness underlying her given confidence.
The manager turned back to her desk, right hand grasping the small black mouse and clicking through a few files before pulling up the waitress's personal file. "You are already working 24 hours a week." She commented, her eyes scanning the schedule behind her reading glasses. "Is that not enough?"
"I was hoping I could get more. You know, living in New York and all." The smaller woman gave a nervous laugh, hands finding each other as she held them in front of herself, squeezing the fingers together.
"And how much more would that be?" Her overall image unamused by the current situation.
"I was hoping I could get full-time, if possible"
"Hm." The manager made a noise in the back of her throat, eyeing the employee in front of her. "I am assuming that money is rather tight right now?"
Lena became increasingly awkward in this position. She gave a hard swallow, words completely escaping her.
"I'm going to take that as a yes." Amélie commented, tone laced with condescension. She shifted through a few more folders before pulling up an organized and color-coded calendar of given shifts and employees. As her eyes scanned across the back-lit screen, she placed a spindly hand against her lips, resting her elbow on the wood of her desk. "I suppose I can fit you in a few places. That should give you 40. Will that be enough for you?"
Lena's eyes grew wide, disbelief washing over her."Thank you so much, love, you won't regret it. I promise."
"Your new schedule will be updated next week. Is there anything else you are requesting?" The taller woman asked, focus already shifting away from the annoying casualty of words used by the employee and over to rescheduling shifts for the next week.
"Nope, this is more than I could ever ask for." She left Amélie's office with an extra kick in her step. Everything was looking up and she looked forward to everything life had to offer her.