(no subject)
moity-hoity-toity's still dealing with the blahs. And I'm STILL all future!fic!fluffy, so more Torrin!verse it is.
Title: Just Like You: Stay Happy
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: Light R for SWEARING (omfg, it's the end-times!!)
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: No one but the parents are allowed to make Torrin's voice sound like that. No one.
Since the time Casey had gorged on three 'Gordita's, cinnamon twists and a large Sprite, he'd sworn off Taco Bell. There was something about eating practically nothing all day long, begging your dad for a huge fast-food dinner on his way home from work then regretting it later when it was violently rejected, ejected, less than an hour after eating it. The barely-digested food may as well have come up whole, some escaping through his nose, can we stop thinking about this-please?
Casey nodded to his inner-voice and focused on putting the right blinker on. A smile spread over his face as he turned and drove through the large parking lot leading to the 'Norwich Shoppes'. The not-really-Mexican eatery was sat in its own island in the middle, not many cars in drive-thru or parked around the building. Good; from what Zeke had said, poor Torrin had gotten stuck twenty minutes past what was supposed to be the end of his shift, due to both a call-out and long, long lines. “I mastered the art of smoke-rings waiting in that damned lot, though,” Zeke said, proving it with a few puffs. That hadn't been his only proud moment as he'd recounted the story about how the girl Torrin had walked out with had oohed-and-ahhed over the Mustang. Casey rolled his eyes and smirked remembering the man's cool nod and, “I'm the hottest dad around,” as he parked. With a deep breath of determination and courage, Casey stepped out of the car.
Oh god. The smell took him back instantly to that fateful day-August 1, 1996, almost twenty-six years ago and he STILL felt queasy. Nevertheless, he stiffened his upper lip and strode over to the door. 'No, you're okay, you're okay,' he told himself when the scent of spicy meat, tortillas and salsa hit him in a wave. 'You're a forty-year old... fuck, forty-one-year old man. Fuck, I'm forty-one.' At least the middle-aged crisis was a distraction...
He eased up in a big way when he got to the front where the counter was. There his seventeen-year old kid stood in his geeky-as-fuck uniform, visor and his most recent acne-outbreak, working the register and talking to a woman with two loud, obviously-hungry kids. Casey couldn't have been prouder, of course, especially since the young man was giving the family sweet smiles as Mom ordered away. Even though he'd only been here a week and was still wearing a nametag with the word 'TRAINEE' above 'Tory', he seemed to be settling in nicely. Torrin hadn't noticed Casey yet, allowing a candid glimpse at the hardworking youth. Casey hung back, even if the shorter line at the other register was moving along quickly.
After another minute or so of Casey pondering about how awesome his baby-boy was, the mother and kids were getting their tray. Before she could bring them all to the dining room, she frowned down at their dinner. The customer Torrin had just greeted had to wait as the woman leaned in to say something to Torrin. Casey watched as the boy's smile faded a little and he turned halfway to look toward the kitchen area. It was easy to see the swallow rolling down his throat as he got on tiptoe and called, “Jimmy... hey, I'd gotten that last order wrong...”
“Why, what's up?”
“She, um-she said she didn't want sour cream on her supreme, but I'd put EXTRA on the special-order ticket--”
“What's going on?”
Another worker came from around the coffee station, giving Torrin a look. Through the awkward pause Torrin made, Casey took note of the worker's appearance; not a manager, but someone ranked higher going by the striped button-down shirt and tie. Torrin cleared his throat and motioned to the kitchen. “I made a mistake on this lady's special-order, she didn't want sour cream, but I--”
The glare forming on Casey's face was aimed at the guy, who made a loud, dramatic scoff and groan. “A-gain, god... Jimmy!”
“I got it started, Todd, we're good,” the cook called back.
'Todd' shook his head and turned to the family. The intensely-fake smile he gave the mother made Casey feel icky. “I'm so sorry, Ma'am; he's still training,” he told her.
“Oh, it's okay.”
The man, who really didn't look much older than Torrin then waved Torrin over to the doorway leading to the drive-thru area. Casey couldn't help himself from sneaking over to overhear what was going on...
“You're making me look like I can't do my friggin' job, y'know. Get your act together, for Christ's sake.”
“Sorry, Todd... I thought she'd said 'extra'.”
“But she didn't, the customer is always right, remember??”
“Yea, I know, just... I know. It was totally my fault.”
Casey had never heard his boy's voice sound so small and insignificant; not even when Zeke would go into 'I'm about to ground your ass' mode when Torrin astounded them with another typical but severe teenaged fuck-up. 'He's been here for only a week, the fuck??' Casey's thoughts growled.
“Order's up, Tory!” Jimmy called out as he slipped the taco into the slot.
“And another thing--”
“Todd, lemmee-get her taco...” Torrin interrupted Todd's desire to keep bitching. He sped out with purpose, grabbed the order and slipped it onto the tray. “Sorry about... that...” he said, pausing when he finally caught Casey in his sights.
“It's okay, honey. Good luck!”
'He needs it,' Casey thought when Todd went back to Torrin and leaned in before the kid could move on to the next order.
“That's another little chunk out of your check, you know. Getting sick of you screwing everything up.” Todd's voice was low but easy enough for the people around them to hear. Even the other working-girl was giving Torrin concerned looks, something Casey appreciated. All along, however, Torrin stared at his dad before he made a quick nod and turned to the man waiting to order.
“H-Hi, can I... take your order, Sir?”
Ohh, no. No. NO one was allowed to send Torrin's voice back to puberty... besides his parents, of course. Though he knew that his intervention could worsen the situation, fuck him if he could help from stepping close to the counter and waving to Todd before he could disappear. The fakey-fake smile returned.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Hi, um... how much is a Supreme taco?”
Todd blinked then turned to point at the menu above. “It's in the first column, under the dollar menu--”
“No, I know. I just wanted you to tell me,” Casey said with a mysterious smirk.
“Hah, um... okay. It's a dollar-fifty-nine plus tax...?”
Casey made a quick, brisk nod and got his wallet out. “That's just fine. And, if you've been keeping any sort of track-what else has your trainee over there goofed-up on?”
“Uhh...” Todd said, looking at Torrin through the corners of his eyes. Casey glanced over as well, watching the boy sniff and swallow while taking the customer's order. Unsatisfied with Todd the Trainee's (as his nametag put it) pauses, Casey sighed.
“Never mind. I'll ask your boss-if he's around?”
Poor Todd. His confused expression looked like it hurt. Just then, however, a more official, much older-looking man with a nametag reading 'MANAGER' and 'MATT' came in from the back. He was marking things off on his clipboard but stopped when he saw Todd and Casey standing there. “Hey, Todd. What's going on?” he asked.
“Erm, this-gentleman wanted to talk... to you?” Todd replied haltingly.
Matt's smile was much more real, kind even as he stepped over. “How can I help you, Sir?” he asked Casey, who smiled back.
“Sorry to bother you, I was just curious about the new employee over there. Apparently he's made some mistakes while he's been training?” Casey took another glance to Torrin, who was mouthing, Dad, no, Dad, no, Dad, no over and over again.
Looking over, Matt's smile grew. “Tory? He's done all right. Why, what's the problem?”
“I was just offering to pay for the food he's cost this establishment,” Casey replied.
“Huh?” Matt blinked furiously then chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “Oh no, no, that kind of stuff is expected when you're new. He's getting the hang of it.”
“Oh? But I just overheard this boy here tell him that his mistakes would come out of his check.” Casey looked to the left where Todd was still standing-by, watching. “As Torrin's my son, I feel responsible for any losses.”
It was nice, watching Todd's face go white as a sheet. His eyes widened when Matt turned to him slowly and raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” the man said in a dark voice.
“I...”
“Dad...” Torrin now arrived, leaning over the counter with a look of warning.
“Hi, Tory. You're off, like-now, right?”
“Oh my god. Dad,” Torrin muttered, but Matt turned to him with a big smile.
“Go on, finish your customer's order and clock-out. Maria's almost done in the office, she should be right out.” Matt sighed and turned back to Todd. “In the meantime, I have a few things I need to let my son know.”
Casey didn't care if he'd overstepped boundaries. This man didn't practice the irritating, Not My Johnny! parenting style Casey loathed, going by Matt's leading HIS son to the side doors where Casey had come in.
“Hey, Tor-sorry it took me a bit to get out here,” a girl with thick, pretty pigtails and tag reading 'Maria' said as she arrived from the back.
Torrin turned fast to the food station to get his customer's order while Maria changed the cash-drawers. Torrin gave the man a quick, “Enjoy,” before zooming off to clock out.
'Oh, fuck whatever tantrum you're planning, little man...' Casey thought his way.
“Hello, Sir; can I help you?”
Casey blinked and turned to Maria, who looked to him with an expectant smile. Seeing that there was no line, Casey shrugged. 'Give it the old college try,' he thought before smiling back, stepping closer and saying, “Sure, um... never tried your Chalupas, let's go with that. Make it the meal.”
“What kind; beef, steak or chicken?”
“Ooh. One steak, one chicken.”
Maria chirped out the price; she was sliding Casey's debit card into the machine when Torrin returned, looking sullen. Whether it was because of what had just gone on or the fact that he had a severe case of visor-hair, Casey wasn't sure. “Yea, we ready, Dad?”
“In a sec, grabbing some dinner,” Casey replied coolly.
“Hey!” The other girl, 'Kristi' scampered over. She leaned in to ask Torrin, “Is this your other dad... and did he just tell Todd-the-Turd off??”
Torrin rolled his eyes. “Pfft, yea...”
Kristi made an evil-sounding giggle then raised his palm up to Casey. Casey chuckled and gave her a weak high-five. “For the record, I didn't 'tell him off', just called him out on his bullcrap...”
“Wait, this guy gave Todd shit??” Maria now joined the conversation, holding Casey's half-full bag. At Kristi's nod, Maria tittered away as well. “Sweet!”
Casey had to remember to tell Zeke, 'I'M the hottest Dad around, suck it,' when they got home. For now, he waited through the next few moments before Maria handed him his food and he and his son set off. The girls waved and kept giggling until they were outside.
“Crap,” Torrin grumbled in seeing Matt and Todd at the end of the walkway, Matt very obviously reaming his son out for his shenanigans. Casey would've liked sticking around to see if voices were raised, but with Torrin practically jogging to the car, he sighed and moved on.
“So...” Casey said as he buckled in, but he stopped when Torrin sat up straight and turned to face him.
“Dad, you could've messed things up bad!” he said in a hiss.
Rolling his eyes, Casey started the car, backed out and left the 'Bell's lot. “I'll mess 'Turd' up a whole lot more if he's cutting into your checks.”
Torrin groaned and put his head back. “He's NOT... doing that. Everyone's told me that he just says shit to make you panic. We're not gonna bankrupt the 'Bell dropping a taco every now and again, we KNOW that.”
“So he's playing little games then, almost worse,” Casey said. At the first red light, he stopped the car and shook his head. “Be mad at me all you want. I come across some dickweed treating you like dirt, I step in. I'm supposed to, so eat it.”
“Yea, speaking of eating-thought Taco Hell made you bwuark,” Torrin said, motioning to the bag sitting by his feet. “You told me to stop somewhere and shower before coming home or you'd blow chunks.”
“Subject change, huh?” Casey moved them along when the light turned green. He cast a quick but meaningful look to the young man as he said, “I'd rather you quit a job than put up with that rash of shit, y'know. I don't care if me and your dad have been on your butt to get a job, taping the want-ads on your door or laptop or basketball--”
“My freakin' forehead. I thought I was being suffocated, waking up to that...”
Casey chuckled but went on, “Doesn't matter. Maybe he's just one guy, one bad apple among the good ones. But if you ever find yourself surrounded? Bolt. Okay? I mean that.”
“Fine, fine,” Torrin said in a breathy groan.
“Good.”
“Get anything for Dad?”
“What, dinner?” Casey scoffed. “He said he was gonna try to make my famous tuna casserole; my choosing the 'Bell instead of whatever five-alarm disaster he comes up with should tell you how confident I am in his cooking skills.”
It was good, hearing Torrin laugh. 'Stay happy, kiddo,' Casey thought, or really, hoped for with all of his being.
Title: Just Like You: Stay Happy
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: Light R for SWEARING (omfg, it's the end-times!!)
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: No one but the parents are allowed to make Torrin's voice sound like that. No one.
Since the time Casey had gorged on three 'Gordita's, cinnamon twists and a large Sprite, he'd sworn off Taco Bell. There was something about eating practically nothing all day long, begging your dad for a huge fast-food dinner on his way home from work then regretting it later when it was violently rejected, ejected, less than an hour after eating it. The barely-digested food may as well have come up whole, some escaping through his nose, can we stop thinking about this-please?
Casey nodded to his inner-voice and focused on putting the right blinker on. A smile spread over his face as he turned and drove through the large parking lot leading to the 'Norwich Shoppes'. The not-really-Mexican eatery was sat in its own island in the middle, not many cars in drive-thru or parked around the building. Good; from what Zeke had said, poor Torrin had gotten stuck twenty minutes past what was supposed to be the end of his shift, due to both a call-out and long, long lines. “I mastered the art of smoke-rings waiting in that damned lot, though,” Zeke said, proving it with a few puffs. That hadn't been his only proud moment as he'd recounted the story about how the girl Torrin had walked out with had oohed-and-ahhed over the Mustang. Casey rolled his eyes and smirked remembering the man's cool nod and, “I'm the hottest dad around,” as he parked. With a deep breath of determination and courage, Casey stepped out of the car.
Oh god. The smell took him back instantly to that fateful day-August 1, 1996, almost twenty-six years ago and he STILL felt queasy. Nevertheless, he stiffened his upper lip and strode over to the door. 'No, you're okay, you're okay,' he told himself when the scent of spicy meat, tortillas and salsa hit him in a wave. 'You're a forty-year old... fuck, forty-one-year old man. Fuck, I'm forty-one.' At least the middle-aged crisis was a distraction...
He eased up in a big way when he got to the front where the counter was. There his seventeen-year old kid stood in his geeky-as-fuck uniform, visor and his most recent acne-outbreak, working the register and talking to a woman with two loud, obviously-hungry kids. Casey couldn't have been prouder, of course, especially since the young man was giving the family sweet smiles as Mom ordered away. Even though he'd only been here a week and was still wearing a nametag with the word 'TRAINEE' above 'Tory', he seemed to be settling in nicely. Torrin hadn't noticed Casey yet, allowing a candid glimpse at the hardworking youth. Casey hung back, even if the shorter line at the other register was moving along quickly.
After another minute or so of Casey pondering about how awesome his baby-boy was, the mother and kids were getting their tray. Before she could bring them all to the dining room, she frowned down at their dinner. The customer Torrin had just greeted had to wait as the woman leaned in to say something to Torrin. Casey watched as the boy's smile faded a little and he turned halfway to look toward the kitchen area. It was easy to see the swallow rolling down his throat as he got on tiptoe and called, “Jimmy... hey, I'd gotten that last order wrong...”
“Why, what's up?”
“She, um-she said she didn't want sour cream on her supreme, but I'd put EXTRA on the special-order ticket--”
“What's going on?”
Another worker came from around the coffee station, giving Torrin a look. Through the awkward pause Torrin made, Casey took note of the worker's appearance; not a manager, but someone ranked higher going by the striped button-down shirt and tie. Torrin cleared his throat and motioned to the kitchen. “I made a mistake on this lady's special-order, she didn't want sour cream, but I--”
The glare forming on Casey's face was aimed at the guy, who made a loud, dramatic scoff and groan. “A-gain, god... Jimmy!”
“I got it started, Todd, we're good,” the cook called back.
'Todd' shook his head and turned to the family. The intensely-fake smile he gave the mother made Casey feel icky. “I'm so sorry, Ma'am; he's still training,” he told her.
“Oh, it's okay.”
The man, who really didn't look much older than Torrin then waved Torrin over to the doorway leading to the drive-thru area. Casey couldn't help himself from sneaking over to overhear what was going on...
“You're making me look like I can't do my friggin' job, y'know. Get your act together, for Christ's sake.”
“Sorry, Todd... I thought she'd said 'extra'.”
“But she didn't, the customer is always right, remember??”
“Yea, I know, just... I know. It was totally my fault.”
Casey had never heard his boy's voice sound so small and insignificant; not even when Zeke would go into 'I'm about to ground your ass' mode when Torrin astounded them with another typical but severe teenaged fuck-up. 'He's been here for only a week, the fuck??' Casey's thoughts growled.
“Order's up, Tory!” Jimmy called out as he slipped the taco into the slot.
“And another thing--”
“Todd, lemmee-get her taco...” Torrin interrupted Todd's desire to keep bitching. He sped out with purpose, grabbed the order and slipped it onto the tray. “Sorry about... that...” he said, pausing when he finally caught Casey in his sights.
“It's okay, honey. Good luck!”
'He needs it,' Casey thought when Todd went back to Torrin and leaned in before the kid could move on to the next order.
“That's another little chunk out of your check, you know. Getting sick of you screwing everything up.” Todd's voice was low but easy enough for the people around them to hear. Even the other working-girl was giving Torrin concerned looks, something Casey appreciated. All along, however, Torrin stared at his dad before he made a quick nod and turned to the man waiting to order.
“H-Hi, can I... take your order, Sir?”
Ohh, no. No. NO one was allowed to send Torrin's voice back to puberty... besides his parents, of course. Though he knew that his intervention could worsen the situation, fuck him if he could help from stepping close to the counter and waving to Todd before he could disappear. The fakey-fake smile returned.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Hi, um... how much is a Supreme taco?”
Todd blinked then turned to point at the menu above. “It's in the first column, under the dollar menu--”
“No, I know. I just wanted you to tell me,” Casey said with a mysterious smirk.
“Hah, um... okay. It's a dollar-fifty-nine plus tax...?”
Casey made a quick, brisk nod and got his wallet out. “That's just fine. And, if you've been keeping any sort of track-what else has your trainee over there goofed-up on?”
“Uhh...” Todd said, looking at Torrin through the corners of his eyes. Casey glanced over as well, watching the boy sniff and swallow while taking the customer's order. Unsatisfied with Todd the Trainee's (as his nametag put it) pauses, Casey sighed.
“Never mind. I'll ask your boss-if he's around?”
Poor Todd. His confused expression looked like it hurt. Just then, however, a more official, much older-looking man with a nametag reading 'MANAGER' and 'MATT' came in from the back. He was marking things off on his clipboard but stopped when he saw Todd and Casey standing there. “Hey, Todd. What's going on?” he asked.
“Erm, this-gentleman wanted to talk... to you?” Todd replied haltingly.
Matt's smile was much more real, kind even as he stepped over. “How can I help you, Sir?” he asked Casey, who smiled back.
“Sorry to bother you, I was just curious about the new employee over there. Apparently he's made some mistakes while he's been training?” Casey took another glance to Torrin, who was mouthing, Dad, no, Dad, no, Dad, no over and over again.
Looking over, Matt's smile grew. “Tory? He's done all right. Why, what's the problem?”
“I was just offering to pay for the food he's cost this establishment,” Casey replied.
“Huh?” Matt blinked furiously then chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “Oh no, no, that kind of stuff is expected when you're new. He's getting the hang of it.”
“Oh? But I just overheard this boy here tell him that his mistakes would come out of his check.” Casey looked to the left where Todd was still standing-by, watching. “As Torrin's my son, I feel responsible for any losses.”
It was nice, watching Todd's face go white as a sheet. His eyes widened when Matt turned to him slowly and raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” the man said in a dark voice.
“I...”
“Dad...” Torrin now arrived, leaning over the counter with a look of warning.
“Hi, Tory. You're off, like-now, right?”
“Oh my god. Dad,” Torrin muttered, but Matt turned to him with a big smile.
“Go on, finish your customer's order and clock-out. Maria's almost done in the office, she should be right out.” Matt sighed and turned back to Todd. “In the meantime, I have a few things I need to let my son know.”
Casey didn't care if he'd overstepped boundaries. This man didn't practice the irritating, Not My Johnny! parenting style Casey loathed, going by Matt's leading HIS son to the side doors where Casey had come in.
“Hey, Tor-sorry it took me a bit to get out here,” a girl with thick, pretty pigtails and tag reading 'Maria' said as she arrived from the back.
Torrin turned fast to the food station to get his customer's order while Maria changed the cash-drawers. Torrin gave the man a quick, “Enjoy,” before zooming off to clock out.
'Oh, fuck whatever tantrum you're planning, little man...' Casey thought his way.
“Hello, Sir; can I help you?”
Casey blinked and turned to Maria, who looked to him with an expectant smile. Seeing that there was no line, Casey shrugged. 'Give it the old college try,' he thought before smiling back, stepping closer and saying, “Sure, um... never tried your Chalupas, let's go with that. Make it the meal.”
“What kind; beef, steak or chicken?”
“Ooh. One steak, one chicken.”
Maria chirped out the price; she was sliding Casey's debit card into the machine when Torrin returned, looking sullen. Whether it was because of what had just gone on or the fact that he had a severe case of visor-hair, Casey wasn't sure. “Yea, we ready, Dad?”
“In a sec, grabbing some dinner,” Casey replied coolly.
“Hey!” The other girl, 'Kristi' scampered over. She leaned in to ask Torrin, “Is this your other dad... and did he just tell Todd-the-Turd off??”
Torrin rolled his eyes. “Pfft, yea...”
Kristi made an evil-sounding giggle then raised his palm up to Casey. Casey chuckled and gave her a weak high-five. “For the record, I didn't 'tell him off', just called him out on his bullcrap...”
“Wait, this guy gave Todd shit??” Maria now joined the conversation, holding Casey's half-full bag. At Kristi's nod, Maria tittered away as well. “Sweet!”
Casey had to remember to tell Zeke, 'I'M the hottest Dad around, suck it,' when they got home. For now, he waited through the next few moments before Maria handed him his food and he and his son set off. The girls waved and kept giggling until they were outside.
“Crap,” Torrin grumbled in seeing Matt and Todd at the end of the walkway, Matt very obviously reaming his son out for his shenanigans. Casey would've liked sticking around to see if voices were raised, but with Torrin practically jogging to the car, he sighed and moved on.
“So...” Casey said as he buckled in, but he stopped when Torrin sat up straight and turned to face him.
“Dad, you could've messed things up bad!” he said in a hiss.
Rolling his eyes, Casey started the car, backed out and left the 'Bell's lot. “I'll mess 'Turd' up a whole lot more if he's cutting into your checks.”
Torrin groaned and put his head back. “He's NOT... doing that. Everyone's told me that he just says shit to make you panic. We're not gonna bankrupt the 'Bell dropping a taco every now and again, we KNOW that.”
“So he's playing little games then, almost worse,” Casey said. At the first red light, he stopped the car and shook his head. “Be mad at me all you want. I come across some dickweed treating you like dirt, I step in. I'm supposed to, so eat it.”
“Yea, speaking of eating-thought Taco Hell made you bwuark,” Torrin said, motioning to the bag sitting by his feet. “You told me to stop somewhere and shower before coming home or you'd blow chunks.”
“Subject change, huh?” Casey moved them along when the light turned green. He cast a quick but meaningful look to the young man as he said, “I'd rather you quit a job than put up with that rash of shit, y'know. I don't care if me and your dad have been on your butt to get a job, taping the want-ads on your door or laptop or basketball--”
“My freakin' forehead. I thought I was being suffocated, waking up to that...”
Casey chuckled but went on, “Doesn't matter. Maybe he's just one guy, one bad apple among the good ones. But if you ever find yourself surrounded? Bolt. Okay? I mean that.”
“Fine, fine,” Torrin said in a breathy groan.
“Good.”
“Get anything for Dad?”
“What, dinner?” Casey scoffed. “He said he was gonna try to make my famous tuna casserole; my choosing the 'Bell instead of whatever five-alarm disaster he comes up with should tell you how confident I am in his cooking skills.”
It was good, hearing Torrin laugh. 'Stay happy, kiddo,' Casey thought, or really, hoped for with all of his being.