Archive of Our Own ^beta

Another day. Another shift. Nicole has taken to spending every last second before her shift starts in her crappy 2001 Corolla since Terry decided to start chronically understaffing and pestering everyone to clock in early. Something about inflation. Whatever. He scheduled her at five, she’ll show up at five.

She closes out Instagram with a sigh and braces herself for the polar wind about to accost her outside. The weather here is absolutely the worst part of the holidays, above even her family pestering her about getting a “real” job and “a boyfriend—better yet, a husband already!” It’s not even that cold, it just pisses her off that she’s paying LA rent just to brave 30° in January. She shoves that to the side and pulls her jacket tighter around herself, peering through the windows to judge which circle of hell she’ll be walking into today. She’s not in a great mood already; people tip like shit after Christmas and if the shift is too slow she might actually take someone’s eye out. 

At least Ruby works Mondays. The thought comes unbidden and Nicole shakes her head to dislodge it as she steps through the door and into comforting warmth. “Hey Amber,” she says.

“Hey Nicole! Happy New Year!”

“It’s the sixth.”

Amber scrunches her lips playfully. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you.”

“True,” Nicole says, about to leave it at that. She gets a look. “Okay, Happy New Year to you too. Sorry … I guess I just need to get out of this funk.” She doesn’t mention that the only non white elephant Christmas gift she got this year was a book on investing from her parents. Or that she has basically nothing to invest. Or that the years passing have started making her feel old, really fucking old. Like, there are adults in the world who were born in 2008. That’s messed up.

Amber nods solemnly. “Or God help us all …”

That makes a laugh bubble up. “Fair.”

She manages to make it an hour into her shift before wasting any time. It’s unexpectedly busy (which means she has three tables instead of two) and since Aaron is the only other server scheduled she might actually make some money tonight, which just means she’s not in the world’s most terrible mood when she sidles into the kitchen.

“So, which one of you is going to make me fries?” Nicole asks innocently, leaning over the counter where she ignores the two hand-burningly hot plates waiting for table twenty-five.

Ruby snorts. “Well, probably not the sous chef.”

“Woah, woah, Ruby Red, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Nico shakes his head. “Pulling rank and shit is crazy for someone who weaseled out of getting scheduled Christmas week.”

Nicole distantly wonders how Ruby managed that, and actively wonders if she’s wearing the same flavor of chapstick as she was at the Christmas party.

“I have my ways,” Ruby responds. 

“So Nico, then,” Nicole says, smiling at the cook who winks back, dropping a basket of fries. She should really run those plates but somehow Terry hasn’t come to yell at her about tables yet (probably on account of the lack of them) and she finds she doesn’t want to leave. She’s probably just craving conversation. No Bridgette this shift, and Terry already cut Amber. “You know, that coat fits you really well when you’re dropping fries,” she flirts.

“Haha, thanks,” Nico says. Nicole could roll her eyes he’s so dense, but instead her gaze flits to Ruby, checking for a reaction. But she’s prepping pickles, back turned and she’s really the one the coat fits well, rolled back to her elbows while she chops in smooth motions, up and down, up and down… 

“Woah, dude, she just complimented you!” Pickles chimes in, shocking Nicole out of … whatever that was.

“Wait—” Nico says, raising his eyebrows and pointing between them. “Is this …?”

“Happening? No. She’s just trying to make me jealous,” Ruby cuts Nico off from making more of a fool of himself (though he does this every time Nicole flirts first, like maybe she’ll really mean it this time). Except … something has changed in the way she says it, turned away from Nicole. Not aggressive, but less … playful. Like there’s something real there.

“Well, are you?” Nicole says before she can stop herself. And there’s something real there, too; something she hopes Nico is high enough to miss.

Ruby turns around, dropping the tub of pickles on the counter with a thud. She smiles the way Joey smiles before going ham on a customer, and Nicole doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or a very bad one. “You know what?” she says, cocking her head slightly. “Let’s go on a date.”

Oh.

There’s a pause broken only by the sizzle of the grill.

“Uhmmm,” Pickles starts, eyes wide. Looks between the two of them.

Nico scoffs, shakes his head again with astonishment. But this isn’t funny—No—it’s …

Nicole crashes back to reality.

She tries to fish her voice out of where it’s dropped to her stomach. There’s a million things she should say. What the fuck comes to mind, maybe a playful haha, no way! and what, here? if she has the sense to keep things light. 

Then Joey is shouldering back into the kitchen and what comes out is a definitely hurried, halfway-jumbled: “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

Nicole flees the kitchen before the full body flush she can feel creeping up with every heartbeat makes it to her neck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Behind her, above the sudden rush of blood in her ears: “The hell was her problem? And why didn’t she run these plates? Fucking servers.” 

Nicole shuts the door of the staff bathroom behind herself, though she knows she’s gonna get shit from Terry later.

What the fuck.

Once she catches her breath, Nicole manages to have a decent shift. She has enough sidework that she can mostly avoid the kitchen (where she’s pretty sure everyone but Joey is avoiding eye contact with her) and one of her tables turned out a big bill with a generous tip. And … she has a date. Probably. Definitely? If Ruby was messing with her earlier, she’ll have to get her fired to avoid the embarrassment of having said yes.

She thinks about texting Ruby before she leaves.

She doesn’t.

It isn’t until she gets back to her apartment that she sees Ruby texted instead.

Nicole scoffs to herself, still in the driver’s seat.

That catches her off guard. The location choice is still probably just because Ruby wants to sleep with her, though Nicole can’t guess what’s changed so suddenly for her to finally make a move. It’d be good, probably, just to get it out of their systems (or maybe really bad if it doesn’t), but there’s this nagging disappointment Nicole can’t really explain to herself. Whatever. It’ll be nice. After a pause:

Oh. 

Nicole sets down her phone and decides maybe it’s time to go inside. She likes to think she’s pretty self aware, and the truth is that nobody’s given her butterflies like this in a long time.

It doesn’t fit her brand and she hates it.

She also kind of loves it.

“Hi,” Nicole says. She tosses her hair for effect.

Ruby laughs a little, that tiny exhale of breath that only saves itself from being a scoff through the look of amusement in her eyes. Eyes that turn appraising, look her up and down. “... Wow.”

“Wow?” Nicole responds. So what if it’s Ruby’s first time seeing her in a dress, this is still, like, pretty casual. That didn’t even sound like a good wow.

Ruby opens her mouth, then closes it like she thought better of it. “You look nice. … Great,” she corrects herself. Nicole has to admit the same goes for her. She’s still working a bandana, but it’s one Nicole hasn’t seen before and pairs well with the simple sweater she’s wearing. “Come in.”

Ruby’s apartment is quaint, about what she expects a sous chef job can get you around here. The lighting is nice; a couple posters on the wall for bands Nicole has never heard of. The kitchen is well stocked and the smell of something rich and citrusy makes her mouth water. 

“Roommates?” she asks, peering down the short hallway.

“One. He’s cool, but I told him to scram for tonight.” Something in Nicole is a little happy she lives with a guy. Maybe it’s just that Nicole knows she couldn’t resist Ruby if they lived together, but still.

“So,” she says, and it feels like things maybe should be awkward, they’ve never really hung out outside of work and now she’s here where Ruby lives but it’s just … not. They’re still just them. “What’s for dinner?”

“Cauliflower orange gnocchi,” Ruby responds, stirring something at the stove now. 

“Ooo, I love cauliflower.” Nicole ventures to the counter, scanning all the ingredients set out. This seems like quite the production. She’s even making the gnocchi from scratch. “Soy milk?” she asks, picking up the carton. Nicole is no chef, but it seems out of place. “Are you secretly lactose intolerant?”

“Vegan,” she drops. A beat where Nicole waits for the punchline, and then Ruby looks up at her like there isn’t one. “What?” 

“I—you’re serious?” Nicole sets down the soy milk, scanning the ingredients again. And yep, that’s that non-dairy butter Brad is always going on about, and now that she thinks about it this sort of dish naturally doesn’t have meat …

“I told you I don’t eat meat. I just also don’t eat anything else that comes from animals.” Ruby tastes some of the cream and then squints her eyes. “Or use anything. Would you pass me the salt?”

Nicole passes it to her on autopilot. “I mean, you can forgive me for thinking that one was a joke when it was your response to the boys asking ‘what kind of gay’ you are.”

Ruby shrugs. “I could, but that wouldn’t be as fun.” The smile she flashes has Nicole looking away and thinking again about how this is Ruby’s apartment and kind of a crazy place for a first date. With really easy access to privacy. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, LA and,” she waves a hand in Ruby’s general vicinity, mostly at the tattoos, the hair, “you.” A thought occurs. It’s hilarious to imagine. “You haven’t been talking to Poppy, have you?”

Ruby suddenly goes quiet. Starts scooping the boiled gnocchi into the sauce. “... It’s not like that.”

Oh. Nicole has stumbled into something here she definitely wasn’t expecting. But she doesn’t appreciate Ruby acting like she’s slighted her for no reason. “Meaning?”

“It’s not—that girl will come in one day gluten-free and come out pescatarian. I’ve been vegan for ten years. It’s not a fad, or a diet, it’s a philosophy.” Ruby stirs with a little extra passion now, like the gnocchi really pissed her off. 

Nicole can’t help but feel taken aback all over again. Which is quite a rare feeling for her and quickly becoming a Ruby special. “Okay, wow, no need to get defensive.”

Ruby puts down the spoon with a sudden thwack that makes her jump. “Nicole, this is important to me. I am actively against the exploitation of animals in any form and if that’s going to be a problem, I don’t think we can do this.” 

Even though they’re arguing(?) discussing(?) right now, a tingle runs up Nicole’s spine at the phrasing. This. Like it’s something real. Like maybe it’s not just going to be Ruby’s bedroom in a couple of hours and then awkward shifts at work. Part of her wants to take offense, and part of her actually likes seeing Ruby this worked up. “Relax, okay? I have plenty of friends with dietary restrictions. We live in LA. I’m just … curious, is all.”

Ruby sighs, turning off the burner. “Sorry,” she says, “I haven’t had this conversation in a while. I don’t really date non-vegans.”

“Oh? I was just too intriguing to pass up?” Nicole says. The idea makes her feel special and on thin ice all at once. She kind of likes it.

Ruby turns around now, settling onto her hands behind her on the counter. A little flirty, comfortable again. Herself. “I mean, kind of, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t usually date vegans,” Nicole replies, leaning in a little closer just because she can.

Ruby gives her a smile, cocky. “Mmm, when you taste this you might start.”

She plates up the dishes with a frankly impressive attention to detail and grabs water for them both. “Would you look at that, the chef becomes the server,” Nicole teases.

“Yeah, and the chef stays the chef too.” She puts down the plate in front of Nicole. “Bon appétit.”

The first bite literally melts in her mouth. It’s kind of the best food she’s had in a year. Or maybe two.

“Holy shit Ruby, you need to get this on the menu.” Nicole says between bites.

She laughs softly at the compliment. “Not sure it quite fits our brand, but I appreciate it.”

“Okay, but seriously, I had no idea vegan food could be this … creamy?”

“Tricks of the trade,” Ruby replies. And they eat. And it’s still the best thing Nicole has had in a year, down to the hints of orange and the tenderness of the cauliflower in her mouth. “You learn a few things in ten years.”

Nicole sets her fork down. She feels the need to set this straight, even though this is casual, and probably not going to work out, and maybe even still a one time thing if she’s reading things wrong. “You know I wouldn’t go vegan for you, right? You get what you get here.” 

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” Ruby says, though it’s lost her tinge of playfulness. “But I’m not going to hold my tongue for you.”

Nicole can’t help but ask: “Is that why you usually date other vegans?”

Ruby pauses for a moment. Really thinks about it. “People want vegans to apologize. I’m unapologetic. It … builds resentment.”

“Can build resentment,” Nicole corrects. “And I’m not very apologetic either, if you haven’t noticed. We’re two women. We’re going to find a way to resent each other no matter how this goes.”

Ruby half-laughs. “I have noticed, and fair point.”

“So, good?”

Ruby pauses again. “I want to talk about it sometime; explain my view to you. But yeah, good. So long as you like my food.”

“Oh, I do,” Nicole says, diving back in.

“So,” Nicole says, when they’ve both finished long enough ago that she doesn’t feel embarrassed for trying to move things along.

“So,” Ruby replies. A pause. “Dessert?”

“I can think of something I want,” Nicole flirts.

“Yeah?” Ruby replies all sultry, a little come hither. “You know, I may not eat meat,” she says, “but I can make an exception for cats.” She breaks out into a grin.

Nicole is almost open-mouthed at how bad that was. “That was terrible.”

“I know,” Ruby says, and leans in.