Weiss burst out the back door, cigarette in her mouth, lighter in hand. She started sparking it, again and again, before remembering it was dead. She yelled, throwing the lighter against the dumpster. It clattered to the concrete. She pulled the cigarette into her hand, and started kicking the base of the dumpster over and over.
"Fuck! Fuck!" Weiss bit out.
"No thanks Weiss." Sun answered, coming out the back door. "I've got a hot date with my left hand later."
"I'm really not in the mood." Weiss snarled. "Do you have a light?"
"Right here." Sun tossed it at Weiss.
She snatched it from the air and sparked it. It lit, and she brought the cigarette to her mouth. The rush steadied her nerves, and she sighed.
"Thank you." She said, holding the lighter out. Its color caught her eye.
Red, with a black diamond in the center.
"This isn't yours." Weiss said.
"No, it isn't." Sun jerked a thumb back at the kitchen. "I was already coming out, and she told me you needed one," Sun smiled. He leaned against the dumpster, tapping one toe against the ground. Silent.
Weiss said nothing, pocketing the red lighter. She wasn't about to start. . . Whatever Sun came out here to talk about. He can do the heavy lifting. Fucking Dish Jesus.
"She's pretty, huh?" Sun began.
"Don't." Weiss snapped. Fuck. She'd already lost.
"Sorry, sorry, thought I was stating the obvious." Sun held his hands up.
"Don't try to give me therapy or some shit."
"Weiss! How could you accuse me of that?" Sun held his hand to his chest in mock offense. "I'm not even licensed!"
"That never stopped you before." Weiss growled, taking another drag.
"Come on. What's your problem with her?" Sun asked, cocking his head.
"My problem? My problem!? She isn't fucking Neptune!" Weiss yelled, kicking the dumpster again.
"No one is fucking Neptune." Sun grinned. "He's the rarest sous - celibate." He gave a little chef kiss.
"No, he's just an asshole." Weiss laughed despite herself, frustrated tears running down her cheek. She wiped her face with her sleeve.
"That too." Sun gently punched Weiss in the shoulder. "I don't think it's Ruby you have a problem with."
"Are you blind?" Weiss asked, mirth drying up. She pointed her finger to the back door. "I tell her to train in the back, and not two hours later she's declared herself second in command! She completely disregarded my orders!" She threw her hands up. "And knowing my Father, she's an incompetent fool, probably the daughter of one of his business partners." Weiss spat. "My best sous, ousted by a juvenile child of some rich. Slimy. Fuck!" Weiss kicked the dumpster again.
"So it's because your Father hired her." Sun mused, rubbing his chin.
"Quit reading into it." Weiss snapped.
"Quit spelling it out for me." Sun retorted. "Because what I saw in there was exactly what you need from a sous."
"Fuck you."
"Again, hot date." Sun wiggled his left hand.
Weiss flipped him off.
"Come on." Sun said. He held his palms out, almost pleading. "Take a breath, and go over what happened in there. Imagine if Neptune got fired, and it was Neptune who said all the shit she said."
"Fine." Weiss took a deep breath. In place of that annoying girl, she imagined Neptune. Blue hair, wide smile, and Ruby's words spilling from his mouth.
"Well?" Sun asked.
". . . Fine." Weiss grumbled, arms crossed. "If Neptune said all that, I'd have been. . ." Impressed? Grateful? "I wouldn't be quite as angry." She said, trying to hold on to as much dignity as she could.
"See?" Sun said, digging his elbow into Weiss' shoulder. "You're not mad at her."
"I didn't say that." Weiss took another drag, her cigarette almost to the filter. "I'm only admitting that her performance, while entirely unwanted and unnecessary, was. . . Adequate."
"Well, service is about to start." Sun said, stretching his back. "If you give her a chance, maybe her performance might 'exceed expectations.'"
"I doubt it." Weiss dug her cigarette into the side of the dumpster.
"Only one way to find out." Sun opened the back door. He looked over his shoulder at Weiss. "I know you have a hard time trusting people, Weiss."
"Get to the point please." Weiss said, rubbing her forehead.
"I've got a good feeling about Ruby. It's the same one I had about you." Sun smiled softly. "That's all."
With that, the door shut behind him, and Weiss was alone.
She took a deep breath, leaning against the dumpster, pinching her nose.
Neptune is gone. Not from her life, but Weiss can't rely on him anymore. He won't be there five days a week. He won't have her back.
If Ruby hadn't stepped up, Weiss would be working a Friday night with half her staff to start and none by the end. This was undeniable, though Weiss loathed to admit it.
Weiss wrenched the back door open. Service just began, and the kitchen was buzzing. Cooks were finishing various prep projects in a mad dash to be ready for service. Several looked her way, then turned back to their work.
Good. Weiss can't stand their stares. She took a breath, and approached expo, just across from Saute and Oven. Dusk was rattling off dishes and ingredients, pointing to the various components in nine-pans, showing Ruby where the plates were, running down the kitchen's lingo for various fires.
Ruby was scribbling in a notebook each dish Dusk rattled almost as fast as he said it. She made quick notes about how to plate the dish, which way the bone needed to face. What sauce was used and how it was drizzled.
"What's this wrapped around the bone?" Ruby asked.
"It's a radish peel or something. We get bags of this stringy starch that's been set out, and we wrap it around the bone to keep it from burning." Dusk answered. Then the first ticket printed for Oven. "One sec Sous."
"No sweat." Ruby tucked her pen into her coat, flipping her notebook closed. "I think I've got it."
"I'll be the judge of that." Weiss piped up from the pass.
Ruby's head snapped to Weiss, eyes wide. Then, they narrowed, and Ruby nodded.
"Heard that Chef." Dusk said, otherwise not acknowledging Weiss.
Weiss came around to the line, approaching Ruby's station. She looked at Ruby's set-up.
She had two knives out. One, a six-inch Chinese-style chef knife. It had a wide, thin blade, with a curve at the edge for rocking it back and forth. The other was a Japanese santoku, about seven inches. Less broad than the cleaver, more agile. With them, a cutting board, dry towel, and tweezers to the side. She'd set up the tools for saucing the meats. A grate to let excess sauce drip through, and a tray to catch all of it.
Weiss begrudgingly approved.
"Are you prepared for tonight?" Weiss asked.
"Yes Chef." Ruby answered.
"You're starting on Oven. The meat you cook costs sixteen lien a pound. Are you prepared?" Weiss demanded.
"Yes Chef."
"Good. I'll give you a chance, right here and now." Weiss folded her arms. "Rise to the challenge. If you fail, you're out. Understood?"
"Yes Chef." Ruby answered.
"Good." Weiss glanced at the ticket machine, spitting out its first ticket. "I'll walk you through the first hour of service." She snatched the paper from the machine. "Anticucho lamb with a dairy allergy. No changes."
"Yes Chef."
"Weiss took the lamb from below. She salted both sides, then pulled a hot skillet from the oven with a dry towel.
"Season both sides well." She said, oiling the pan.
"Yes Chef."
"Flame medium high. The pan is hot enough for the initial sear, so we don't have to try and bring it up." Weiss said, turning on a burner.
"Yes Chef."
"Be sure to watch your oil." Weiss rolled the oil around the rim of the pan. Ready. She blotted the lamb with a clothe, then salted and peppered the lamb again, then dropped it in the pan.
It sang its sizzle, like a vibrant descent on a drummer's cymbal. Weiss watched in satisfaction.
Then, three more tickets spat out.
"Watch me." Weiss commanded.
"Yes Chef."
For Weiss, cooking occupied the same frame of mind that singing once did. Stepping on the line straightened her spine. Her breathe pulled to her belly. A certain clarity cut through her.
In this moment, the performance was all that mattered.
The tickets went on the rail with a snap. Four skillets flew from the oven, oiled and bathed in flame. Fillets, coarse with salt, belly-flopped the skillets.
Plates hit the counter with sharp clunks. As the meat quieted, she flipped a bottle, wagging it with her wrist, leaving soft green waves across the plate. A pile of garnish with a crimson pearl onion graced the corner of each plate like bird's nests.
Her hand, grasping a dry towel, flipped the meats and popped them in the oven. Another skillet came out. More oil. A medley of veggies fell in, dancing with the salt from her fingers.
Now, the wait. The build into crescendo. The swell that would break into waves.
Now!
The skillets slapped onto the burners, aroma wafting like a breeze of angel's sighs. She poked each of them with a thermometer. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
Each was carefully laid on the plate. Sauces splashed across the meat with sharp swipes of spoons pulled from various nine-pans. Weiss twisted the plates and pushed them through the pass.
"Hands please!" Weiss cried, tossing three tickets through with three plates. Then, she took the fourth, and slid it over to Ruby. "Cut that into six pieces and have a taste." Weiss ordered.
"Yes Chef." Ruby said, this time with a wide smile. She quickly separated the meat from the bone with her santoku, slicing a quick vertical V. To Weiss' annoyance, there was a sliver of meat left on the bone.
Ruby cut the meat into six pieces. Quietly, she moved to the first person down the line.
"Behind. What's your name?"
"Dyson."
"Ruby. Would you like some?"
". . . Yes."
Weiss watched, arms crossed, as Dyson took a piece from the plate. He slipped it into his mouth.
"Thank you." He said.
One by one, Ruby quickly moved up the line, offering a piece to each cook, exchanging names in the process. They graciously accepted.
After offering meat to everyone on the line, she went to the back and offered the last piece to Sun. Then she returned.
"You left some meat-" Weiss started.
Without a word, Ruby took the bone and stuck the tip in her mouth, slipping the meat from bone with her teeth. The bone popped out of her mouth, and she grinned.
"Delicious." Ruby sighed.
Weiss felt her face go hot. She coughed. "Were you paying attention?" She asked.
"Yes Chef." Ruby answered, tossing the bone in the trash. She jutted her chin. "We normally get an order that fast after service begins?"
"No." Weiss tossed the skillets into a metal bus bin. "This table always gets the same thing and has the same reservation booked for the next three months."
"Heard that." Ruby stood back, waiting.
Weiss folded her arms, leaning against the oven. She glanced at Ruby out the corner of her eye. Weiss didn't know how Ruby would react, but she expected. . . Something. A slack jaw, perhaps? Maybe some sweat?
Ruby seemed completely unphased.
"Do you have any questions?" Weiss asked, feigning indifference.
"Nope!" Ruby replied, grinning.
"Tch." Weiss rolled her eyes. The brat was determined to fail, huh?
Weiss would let her.
The hour went by quickly, Weiss pumping tickets with speed and grace.
Ruby watched on, hands folded behind her back. She asked no questions.
Weiss began to wonder if Ruby wanted the job in the first place. Still, no time to waste. Weiss went to pull the plate for her last dish.
"Let me Chef." Ruby said, reaching over Weiss to get the plate, looming over Weiss.
Getting uncomfortably close.
"Hey!" Weiss protested, pulling back, red faced.
Ruby froze, plate between shelf and counter.
"Ahem." Weiss composed herself. "Do you want to plate it?" She snarked.
"Can I?" Ruby asked, eyes twinkling.
"Be my guest." Weiss gestured to the food, venom in her voice. She stepped off the line and around to expo.
Ruby, slowly, plated the dish, making sure the sauce was arranged correctly, that the meat was temped, that the plate was correct. She slid it through the pass.
"Good." Weiss grudgingly admitted. "But you'll need to move a lot faster if you're planning to make it here."
"Yes Chef." Another ticket spat out. Ruby pulled it and put it on the rail, then began making the dish. Again, with that agonizing, slow pace.
"Pick up the pace!" Weiss clapped her hands together loudly. "Faster!"
"Yes Chef." Ruby replied, but continued to move as if in mud. Her hands grazed the whole breadth of the oven handle. She slowly popped the oven door all the way down, then scanned the line of skillets before pulling one.
"You're letting the hot air out!" Weiss snapped.
"Yes Chef." Ruby answered, putting the skillet on. She spun the bottle in her hand, then poured the oil in. She seasoned the meat and fired it faster than the rest, but twisting from the board to the fire was agony to watch.
Even Dusk, hell, the rest of the kitchen, shot nervous glances out the corner of their eye. First at Ruby, then Weiss, then the door. Is this who they stayed behind for?
Ruby, having temped and plated the meat, slid the plate forward. Weiss took it. It looked good. She temped the meat.
Perfect.
"Fourteen minutes." Weiss growled, putting her thermometer away. "Do you need a cup of coffee?"
"No thanks." Ruby shook her head. "I'm an adult. I drink milk." She grinned.
"Tch." Weiss stabbed the ticket onto the stick. "Hands!" She barked, and a server whisked the plate away. "It looks like you drink molasses." Weiss quipped.
"That's only on my birthday."
The printer spat out five tickets. One right after the other. Ruby pulled them and held them all in her hands.
"I'll take care of thi-" Weiss snarled, moving to go behind the line.
Then Ruby snapped the tickets onto the rail, and turned the dial up to eleven.
She twisted on the ball of her foot, bending her knee to fall down. At the same time, her hand grabbed the handle of the oven and pulled it open. She stood just tall enough that her shoulder and arm snapped straight down, stopping the oven door from slapping against its own hinge. Her other hand, holding her dry towel, grabbed a stack of three skillets at once, and she pushed up with her leg, closing the oven as quick and gentle as a meth-head butterfly.
She pulled the skillets to their own burners, almost flicking them from their stack, clack clack clack. She oiled and swirled with one hand. The other busied itself with the flames, cranking the heat.
She pirouetted. Again, pulling the cooler door open, and stopping it just before it hurt itself. Her hands were gentle. Caressing. Her body was a contained hurricane.
The meat slid from the frosty depths, slapping the tray. Salt danced from her fingers, flipping five chops. Repeated with cracked pepper, and the meat was seasoned. She grabbed the tray and twisted. The hunks of meat were dropped into the skillets. One chop in one skillet, and two apiece in the remaining skillets. The oil and flesh screamed in union, and Ruby turned back to the pass.
She slapped five plates down. Weiss quickly glanced at the yellow tickets, then at the plates. Ruby did the appropriate garnishes for each plate, her bottles flourishing a practiced calligraphy. The bend of her wrist was smooth, like watching a piston swing.
She set the bottles of sauce back in their pan, turned her back to Weiss, and watched the burners. Waiting. Her breathe was steady. Even. Not a trace of fatigue from the sudden physical expression. She watched the bottoms of the pans, waiting for the chops to get that perfect crust.
She flipped the meat! The two pairs of chops were shoved into the oven. The lone chop was left on top. Weiss checked the ticket. Rare.
Ruby again stood with her back to Weiss, hands folded in front of her. Waiting.
The kitchen stood agape. Dusk's jaw was on the floor, and servers who watched the performance stood dead in their tracks.
Weiss couldn't comprehend what she just saw.
Ruby put the lone chop in the oven. She waited a few minutes more. Then, Ruby pulled the meat. Each set of chops was arranged in the same way as the tickets above her station. She plated each dish, sliding them forward in the order they came in.
Weiss looked down. She grabbed the five tickets, checked them. Temped each chop.
Perfect.
"Hands." Weiss said with a slight quiver.
Quietly, two servers came and took the plates away. Ruby stood behind the line, hands folded behind her back. She'd hardly broken a sweat.
"Well hell Red." Sun whistled, shaking his head back and forth. "You can help me wash dishes any time."
"I'll take you up on it." Ruby grinned. She leveled her gaze at Weiss. "But I'll have to ask Chef first."
"We still have two hours in service." Weiss growled, fists clenched.
"Is that all?" Ruby said, cocking her head. "We aren't open long, are we?"
Weiss saw red.
"Quit it!" Weiss slammed her fist against the counter. "You still have two hours to fuck up."
Another set of tickets printed in.
"Yes Chef." Ruby answered, the ghost of a smile on her lips. She grabbed the tickets and popped them up. "I'll do my best."
"Do better than that, or you're gone."
"Yes Chef~" Ruby answered sweetly.
Weiss threw her hands up. She pulled her pack from her breast pocket and went outside. A cigarette slipped into her lips and she sparked the lighter.
The red lighter with the black diamond.
Cigarette unlit, Weiss looked at the lighter in her hand.
"AAAAAAAAGH!" Weiss threw the lighter to the other side of the parking lot. Then, she tossed her cigarette and wrenched the door open.
Fucking Red!