Three Birds on a Wire
Small Covert AU character exploration for one of my kitchen staff, J.J. Again, no clue how "canon compliant" some of the environment, on boarding, general mechanisms I wrote for the Citadel are. Enjoy~ Drabble under the cut.
𝙾𝚑. 𝙾𝚑. 𝙹.𝙹’𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚏’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎.
“I know I know, I won’t be out long! I’m just takin’ a smoke break!” J.J shouted over his shoulder as he pushed open the kitchen’s back door. The hinges squeaked in protest as he stepped out into the humid May air. He squinted, hand coming up to block out some of the sun as his eyes adjusted. Scanning the small back lot that housed the kitchen’s more modest herb and produce gardens J.J finally spotted a reasonably shaded spot by the building’s delivery zone. The awning over head was still casting just enough shadow to sit under. He fished around in his pockets beneath his apron as he walked, pulling out his box of Marlboros alongside his lighter.
He sidestepped a tower of large boxes, a recent ingredient delivery that needed to be taken inside soonish, and made his way over to one of the old box freezers sitting along the far wall. A different building’s kitchen was being renovated and lucky for him the disposal service wasn’t coming to finish the job till Friday. With a grunt he hefted himself on top of the appliance, pushing himself back till he could comfortably lean against the wall. He drew his legs up, knees bent, feet flat on the cool metal surface of the freezer.
He tilted his head back until he could feel the scrape of brick against his buzzed scalp. His eyes slid shut as he let out a long tired sigh, rolling his shoulders until they too relaxed enough to grind against the rough wall. J.J let himself sit in the feeling of bone deep exhaustion for a few seconds, listening to the buzz of cicadas, the hum of the AC vents above his head, his own slow breathing.
Today would make it one month since his promotion.
His eyes opened as the thought came to settle in his mind, fidgeting like a small bird finding its footing on a phone wire. He popped open the white and red box in his hand, sliding a cigarette out to hold between 2 practiced fingers. The box was placed to the side and J.J brought the cigarette to his lips, lighter at the ready. That first slow drag calmed the fidgeting bird in his head and he held onto it a second longer, until he could just barely feel the burn starting in his lungs. He exhaled and watched the smoke seep past his lips, the bird didn’t disappear like the smoke did. It lingered as he mulled it over. It had taken an inhuman amount of work and patience and spite but after almost 4 years he had finally, finally, gotten the position he’d been dreaming of. He took another drag.
Then why did this feel like it wasn’t good enough?
Another bird landed on the wire. His brow furrowed and he let out the smoke with a sharper huff. The new bird pecked at the other and J.J couldn't help but think back to the start of the month. Being called into the Division Director’s office first thing in the morning had turned him into a miserable pile of nerves but the resulting conversation couldn’t have been better. Not only had his application been accepted but it had been chosen. He was going to be 1 of 3 new mentees under the Primary Division’s Head Chef within the Citadel. J.J had left that meeting shaking, vibrating out of his skin. He’d been flown cross country by the following evening, new accommodations already paid for and waiting. Of course he had sent a letter home to his family as soon as he’d been given the news.
He never heard back. Another bird landed, rocking the wire.
Now May was almost over and the radio silence only felt heavier. This bird in particular flitted around the back of his mind daily, taunting him, pecking away at his confidence. He had earned this, paid his own way through university for this, spent far too long working at downtown dives just to get more practice for this, sacrificed a civilian sense of normalcy just to step onto Citadel property for this.
The birds huddled close on the wire, tittering between each other in whispered songs.
You didn’t deserve an answer when you graduated.
You didn’t deserve an answer when you gifted them your first paycheck.
You didn’t deserve an answer when you signed your life away and moved out of state.
You don’t deserve one now that you’re on your way to becoming a sous-chef.
J.J inhaled a little too sharply, jerking forward to cough, hastily grabbing the cigarette from between his lips before it could fall. His eyes watered and he wasn’t completely sure if it was just from choking on the smoke. Fuck. He pulled his knees up closer to his chest, leaned his forehead against his legs, arms loosely looped around his ears. His cigarette stayed forgotten between his fingers, a thin trail of smoke rising into the early summer air. He still had another 4 hours before the end of his shift. Fuck.
“Ahem.” a cool toned voice broke J.J’s spiral, causing him to jump. Startled, he raised his head to see who had walked in on his little pity party.
“Chef-” J.J’s voice crackled with his nerves. Shit. Fuck. How long had he’d been out here? He hastily moved to sit up properly and prayed his eyes weren’t red and the dampness on his cheeks was just sweat.
“Mr.Alcaudon.” Chef’s tone and expression remained calmly neutral, his slit pupils quickly flicked across J.J’s face and posture as he spoke, “Preparations for the evening meal blocks have already begun. You were not at your station and I was informed you had left to take a…break.” the yokai eyed the barely lit cigarette between J.J’s fingers but made no further comment.
“Oh ah, yes Chef.” J.J lowered his knees and began sliding forward on the freezer, quickly pressing the remains of the cigarette into the metal top to snuff out any remaining heat. His voice was just as shaky as the rest of him, “I just meant to step out for a quick smoke break…I must have lost track of time. I apologize. It won’t happen again.” he brought a hand up to rub at his eyes and cheeks, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure.
The yokai merely hummed in acknowledgment, watching. His arms still grasped behind his back, posture somehow both serious and completely relaxed. Everytime J.J looked up to catch his eyes he’d feel like flinching, quickly snapping his focus elsewhere. The eye contact made him feel vulnerable, as if Chef could see the remanence of the bird like thoughts that’d kept J.J so distracted. The yokai tilted his head in a very owlish manner before turning and making his way towards the kitchen’s back exit. There was an air of expectation that J.J would follow without having been asked. And he did.
Somehow the walk back to the door felt longer, nothing but the cicadas’ songs and J.J’s anxious buzzing thoughts keeping him company. He watched Chef’s lion-like tail sway behind him in an elegant arc. He wished he had taken his apron off so he could shove his hands in his pockets easier. Instead he was picking at his fingertips, scratching away dirt that didn’t exist. He wondered if Chef would wait to chew him out in front of the rest of the kitchen staff. He was once again so lost in the rapid spiral that he hadn’t even noticed Chef had stopped until he was only a step away from walking right into him. J.J caught himself and froze, sucking in a breath at how distracted he was. Stupid. The yokai cleared his throat but didn’t look up or back at the human towering over him. Assuming he had his full attention. And he did.
“Mr.Alcaudon. Do I seem like a man who doesn’t take his job seriously?”
“No, Chef.”
“So you know I uphold the highest of standards within my kitchens?”
“Yes, Chef.”
“And those same standards are applied to everyone that I keep company with.”
“Y-yes, Chef.”
“I only keep company with the best Mr.Alcaudon.” The yokai turned to give J.J a pointed look, “I choose who I keep around.”
Oh. Oh. J.J’s eyes must have widened, his expression changing with his realization, reading between the lines, because Chef’s beak quirked up at the sides. A small smile on his otherwise emotionless face. Clearly pleased, the yokai turned back to the door, motioning with a clawed hand to magic it open. He walked through, expecting J.J to follow without being asked. And he did.
Outside the cicadas continued to hum their songs, the leaves continued to rustle in the warm summer breeze, three birds took off from a nearby phone wire, and a red and white Marlboro box laid forgotten on a freezer.