the problem with inexhaustible food, jia/min, pg
written for unniefic's valentine's day/white day challenge! i. am never writing last minute fic for challenges again. i'm too old for all this stress. :( ahma means mother in mandarin... sort of. it's slang.
the problem with inexhaustible food
jia/min, pg, 1637w
min works in a buffet. despite that, jia provides the food.
Min loved buffets.
Really. She did.
There was just a tiny, miniscule problem.
"Do you need a tissue?" Suzy asked in passing, balancing a stack of plates, cups and forks in her hands. "I'm afraid you've got drool all over your shoes."
"Shut up," Min growled, then furtively proceeded to glance down at her polished black shoes. Suzy snorted. Not surreptitious enough, then.
The tables were laid out splendidly. Every plate, spoon and placard was in place, glinting under the light lent by the painfully glamorous miniature chandeliers. Honestly, half of the restaurant's money had probably been wasted on the lights, which were only going to gather dust anyway. Still, the food smelled good. Extremely good. Good enough to send Min to heaven and back.
Except she couldn't eat them, because she was an employee, and the policy on the back of their kitchen doors read: Touch the food and I will personally come after you with my favourite butcher knife.
Obviously any sane person with any amount of sanity in his or her being would not touch the food. Obviously.
"I really think saliva shouldn't be used as shoe polish," Suzy remarked, this time carrying a stack of soup bowls with practiced ease.
"Oh for the love of -" But Min didn't get to finish her sentence, because the bells tinkled and in came their first customer.
The following hours passed in a haze of desperate longing and forced suppression and, unfortunately, Suzy's backhanded insults. Lunch was the worst time of the day, for that was when most customers came to eat their meals, which meant their food ran low more often than not, which meant Min had to go back and forth replenishing the dishes, which meant her stomach and her brain battled most spectacularly.
Her stomach emerged in victory at exactly 1:42 in the afternoon when Min, concentrating too hard on not eating the food to look out for herself, found herself most horrifyingly on the floor. That alone would have been sufferable, except for the fact that she had tripped over someone's foot. Someone's very high-heeled foot. The world must hate her.
"I am so sorry," Min squeaked. How very undignified. Thanking the heavens and beyond that she hadn't been carrying anything during her phenomenal moment of absolute clumsiness, Min unfolded herself from the unceremonious pile of limbs she made on the floor and stood up, brushing herself down - oh shit.
An old lady at the grand old age of probably ninety years glared up at her. She warbled something that sounded a whole lot like Mandarin, gesturing to the table at large and generally looking very angry. Christ, she hadn't broken her ankle, had she?
Min looked around desperately. Where was Fei? Fei knew Mandarin. Why did Fei only work the evening shift? Didn't she know that there was a very angry, very Mandarin little old lady squawking most impressively at her? Even Suzy, the ever-present, almost omnipresent little brat, wasn't around to save her. Heart sinking faster than the Titanic, Min decided that there was nothing she could do but bow repeatedly and mumble sorry in Mandarin. Or what she hoped was sorry in Mandarin. She'd only ever watched one Chinese drama, after all.
"Ahma!" someone said, in a berating tone of voice. Min cringed. Had another one of the lady's friends come to join in their squawking match? To her surprise and relief, however, the woman fell silent, and when Min next opened her eyes, a girl stood in front of her with an apologetic look on her face.
"I'm sorry," the girl said, like she was at fault. Her dark hair was cropped short, highlighting the smooth quality of her skin and bright eyes. She had very nice eyes, indeed.
Wait, what.
"No, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Min hastened to say. Policy #2: Always apologise, regardless.
"No, I'm sorry, my mum just likes her shoes. A lot." She glanced down at the lady's feet and gave a small grimace, then leaned in and whispered, "You'd think she'd have moved on from heeled shoes to normal, less dangerous ones, given her age."
Min bit back a snicker. "I hope she doesn't think I was trying to make out with her feet."
The girl laughed. "Jia," she said, offering a hand.
Min stared at her blankly for a moment or two, before the sensible, logical part of her brain prompted her to respond. Names. They were exchanging names. "Min," she said, taking her hand and shaking it. Her hand was warm; sweat droplets sprouted on Min's palm a second after, and she released Jia's hand. "Um," Min said, struck by the sudden, horrific thought of Jia's mother overhearing them. "Your mother doesn't understand us, does she?"
"What if I said she did?" Jia asked, grinning a little.
"Well then, I'd have to say goodbye to our friendship," Min declared.
Jia raised an eyebrow. "Who says we're friends?"
"Just answer the question!"
"No, she doesn't," Jia said. "She's just here to visit me." Then, belatedly, "We're from China, you see."
"I gathered as much," Min said. It was then, as Jia paused to look at Min awkwardly and Min realised she'd run out of things to say, that her stomach let loose an excruciatingly loud, obnoxious growl.
Jia's eyebrows almost vanished into her hairline. "Was that you?" she asked, glancing at Min's stomach. Min felt a bizarre urge to cover her stomach with her hands and run away in humiliation.
"No," Min said instead, all bravado and sarcasm. "That was my stomach."
"You must be hungry," Jia said, her lips lifting into a smile. "Here, have some." She offered a sandwich from her plate as her mother looked on in disapproval, and Min felt like withering up and dying in the light of a sandwich. A sandwich! It was practically calling her name. If her stomach had hands, she didn't think she'd be capable of preventing them from snatching the sandwich right out of Jia's unsuspecting, innocent fingers.
Much to her stomach's displeasure, Min shook her head. "Employees cannot touch the food," she recited, "Or we will have to prepare to face our deaths from the end of a pointed butcher knife."
"You can't touch the food," Jia said, a mischievous grin curling at the edges of her lips. "But they never said you can't eat the food, did they?"
"I, well -" She did have a point. "Point taken. Still, it'd do me no good if the boss caught me eating." Even so, Min's stomach practically leaped in joy at the notion of consuming something hot and fresh and so deliciously edible.
Jia's mother was still glaring at them. It was rather unsettling, really.
"Come on, just a bite," Jia whispered conspiringly.
Lured by the temptation of food, Min opened her mouth and let Jia feed her a bite of the sandwich. As Jia leaned in, Min caught a whiff of freshly shampooed hair and detergent. The solemn look in her eyes, the amused quirk in her lips, the tensed poise her body had taken - Min suddenly felt inexplicably drawn to her, an attraction so strong she nearly forgot to bite.
Coming to, Min quickly chewed on the sandwich and cast her eyes to the floor. Jia had already returned to her seat, innocuously biting into the sandwich and saying something to her mother in Mandarin. Her mother was still glaring at her. Stomach pacified, Min nodded to Jia in thanks and went back to her duties.
"AHHHHHH," was the first thing that came out of Min's mouth when she stepped into the kitchen and found herself nose-to-nose with a giant, pointed object. Then she un-cross-eyed herself and ducked away from the butcher knife, which happened to be enormous, and also happened to be a soft toy.
"Don't think I'll let you get away unscathed!" Suzy yelled. It sounded almost like a war cry to Min as she ran past several kitchen counters and endeavoured to fit herself into a cupboard.
"I'm too young to die!" she yelled back, giving up after numerous futile attempts. She searched the kitchen wildly for weapons to use.
"I'm younger than you are!" Suzy hollered.
"You look like you just escaped death," Jia commented as she handed a bunch of bills over the counter. Min nearly had had to pull the hair off Suzy's head to reach the counter before she did.
"What if I said I just did?" Min asked, punching the numbers into the cashing machine and counting the roll of money Jia gave her.
"I'd be hopelessly sorry for causing you such an inconvenience," Jia said solemnly. "I was only trying to placate your stomach, after all."
"My stomach appreciates it," Min said, just as solemnly. Her fingers scraped over something that comprised of a different texture compared to the paper bills, and she looked down at her hands to see a piece of paper with a telephone number scrawled onto it.
She raised an eyebrow at Jia. "In all seriousness, did you really use ketchup to write this?" She waved the paper in Jia's nose.
"In my defence, I thought it'd appeal to your stomach," Jia said.
"That's gross," Min replied. Outside, Jia's mother very evidently gave Min a dirty look. "I think your mother still holds a grudge against me for making out with her shoe."
Jia turned to look at her mother. "Oh, that's her default face," she said airily. "So, see you around?"
"Um," Min blurted. She looked down at the digits in her hand. "I'll call you?"
"I'm free Friday afternoon," Jia said, looking serious. "Hint hint."
"Hint taken," Min said, relaxing into a smile. "Bring some food, too, would you?"
"Always the provider," Jia called over her shoulder.
the problem with inexhaustible food
jia/min, pg, 1637w
min works in a buffet. despite that, jia provides the food.
Min loved buffets.
Really. She did.
There was just a tiny, miniscule problem.
"Do you need a tissue?" Suzy asked in passing, balancing a stack of plates, cups and forks in her hands. "I'm afraid you've got drool all over your shoes."
"Shut up," Min growled, then furtively proceeded to glance down at her polished black shoes. Suzy snorted. Not surreptitious enough, then.
The tables were laid out splendidly. Every plate, spoon and placard was in place, glinting under the light lent by the painfully glamorous miniature chandeliers. Honestly, half of the restaurant's money had probably been wasted on the lights, which were only going to gather dust anyway. Still, the food smelled good. Extremely good. Good enough to send Min to heaven and back.
Except she couldn't eat them, because she was an employee, and the policy on the back of their kitchen doors read: Touch the food and I will personally come after you with my favourite butcher knife.
Obviously any sane person with any amount of sanity in his or her being would not touch the food. Obviously.
"I really think saliva shouldn't be used as shoe polish," Suzy remarked, this time carrying a stack of soup bowls with practiced ease.
"Oh for the love of -" But Min didn't get to finish her sentence, because the bells tinkled and in came their first customer.
The following hours passed in a haze of desperate longing and forced suppression and, unfortunately, Suzy's backhanded insults. Lunch was the worst time of the day, for that was when most customers came to eat their meals, which meant their food ran low more often than not, which meant Min had to go back and forth replenishing the dishes, which meant her stomach and her brain battled most spectacularly.
Her stomach emerged in victory at exactly 1:42 in the afternoon when Min, concentrating too hard on not eating the food to look out for herself, found herself most horrifyingly on the floor. That alone would have been sufferable, except for the fact that she had tripped over someone's foot. Someone's very high-heeled foot. The world must hate her.
"I am so sorry," Min squeaked. How very undignified. Thanking the heavens and beyond that she hadn't been carrying anything during her phenomenal moment of absolute clumsiness, Min unfolded herself from the unceremonious pile of limbs she made on the floor and stood up, brushing herself down - oh shit.
An old lady at the grand old age of probably ninety years glared up at her. She warbled something that sounded a whole lot like Mandarin, gesturing to the table at large and generally looking very angry. Christ, she hadn't broken her ankle, had she?
Min looked around desperately. Where was Fei? Fei knew Mandarin. Why did Fei only work the evening shift? Didn't she know that there was a very angry, very Mandarin little old lady squawking most impressively at her? Even Suzy, the ever-present, almost omnipresent little brat, wasn't around to save her. Heart sinking faster than the Titanic, Min decided that there was nothing she could do but bow repeatedly and mumble sorry in Mandarin. Or what she hoped was sorry in Mandarin. She'd only ever watched one Chinese drama, after all.
"Ahma!" someone said, in a berating tone of voice. Min cringed. Had another one of the lady's friends come to join in their squawking match? To her surprise and relief, however, the woman fell silent, and when Min next opened her eyes, a girl stood in front of her with an apologetic look on her face.
"I'm sorry," the girl said, like she was at fault. Her dark hair was cropped short, highlighting the smooth quality of her skin and bright eyes. She had very nice eyes, indeed.
Wait, what.
"No, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Min hastened to say. Policy #2: Always apologise, regardless.
"No, I'm sorry, my mum just likes her shoes. A lot." She glanced down at the lady's feet and gave a small grimace, then leaned in and whispered, "You'd think she'd have moved on from heeled shoes to normal, less dangerous ones, given her age."
Min bit back a snicker. "I hope she doesn't think I was trying to make out with her feet."
The girl laughed. "Jia," she said, offering a hand.
Min stared at her blankly for a moment or two, before the sensible, logical part of her brain prompted her to respond. Names. They were exchanging names. "Min," she said, taking her hand and shaking it. Her hand was warm; sweat droplets sprouted on Min's palm a second after, and she released Jia's hand. "Um," Min said, struck by the sudden, horrific thought of Jia's mother overhearing them. "Your mother doesn't understand us, does she?"
"What if I said she did?" Jia asked, grinning a little.
"Well then, I'd have to say goodbye to our friendship," Min declared.
Jia raised an eyebrow. "Who says we're friends?"
"Just answer the question!"
"No, she doesn't," Jia said. "She's just here to visit me." Then, belatedly, "We're from China, you see."
"I gathered as much," Min said. It was then, as Jia paused to look at Min awkwardly and Min realised she'd run out of things to say, that her stomach let loose an excruciatingly loud, obnoxious growl.
Jia's eyebrows almost vanished into her hairline. "Was that you?" she asked, glancing at Min's stomach. Min felt a bizarre urge to cover her stomach with her hands and run away in humiliation.
"No," Min said instead, all bravado and sarcasm. "That was my stomach."
"You must be hungry," Jia said, her lips lifting into a smile. "Here, have some." She offered a sandwich from her plate as her mother looked on in disapproval, and Min felt like withering up and dying in the light of a sandwich. A sandwich! It was practically calling her name. If her stomach had hands, she didn't think she'd be capable of preventing them from snatching the sandwich right out of Jia's unsuspecting, innocent fingers.
Much to her stomach's displeasure, Min shook her head. "Employees cannot touch the food," she recited, "Or we will have to prepare to face our deaths from the end of a pointed butcher knife."
"You can't touch the food," Jia said, a mischievous grin curling at the edges of her lips. "But they never said you can't eat the food, did they?"
"I, well -" She did have a point. "Point taken. Still, it'd do me no good if the boss caught me eating." Even so, Min's stomach practically leaped in joy at the notion of consuming something hot and fresh and so deliciously edible.
Jia's mother was still glaring at them. It was rather unsettling, really.
"Come on, just a bite," Jia whispered conspiringly.
Lured by the temptation of food, Min opened her mouth and let Jia feed her a bite of the sandwich. As Jia leaned in, Min caught a whiff of freshly shampooed hair and detergent. The solemn look in her eyes, the amused quirk in her lips, the tensed poise her body had taken - Min suddenly felt inexplicably drawn to her, an attraction so strong she nearly forgot to bite.
Coming to, Min quickly chewed on the sandwich and cast her eyes to the floor. Jia had already returned to her seat, innocuously biting into the sandwich and saying something to her mother in Mandarin. Her mother was still glaring at her. Stomach pacified, Min nodded to Jia in thanks and went back to her duties.
"AHHHHHH," was the first thing that came out of Min's mouth when she stepped into the kitchen and found herself nose-to-nose with a giant, pointed object. Then she un-cross-eyed herself and ducked away from the butcher knife, which happened to be enormous, and also happened to be a soft toy.
"Don't think I'll let you get away unscathed!" Suzy yelled. It sounded almost like a war cry to Min as she ran past several kitchen counters and endeavoured to fit herself into a cupboard.
"I'm too young to die!" she yelled back, giving up after numerous futile attempts. She searched the kitchen wildly for weapons to use.
"I'm younger than you are!" Suzy hollered.
"You look like you just escaped death," Jia commented as she handed a bunch of bills over the counter. Min nearly had had to pull the hair off Suzy's head to reach the counter before she did.
"What if I said I just did?" Min asked, punching the numbers into the cashing machine and counting the roll of money Jia gave her.
"I'd be hopelessly sorry for causing you such an inconvenience," Jia said solemnly. "I was only trying to placate your stomach, after all."
"My stomach appreciates it," Min said, just as solemnly. Her fingers scraped over something that comprised of a different texture compared to the paper bills, and she looked down at her hands to see a piece of paper with a telephone number scrawled onto it.
She raised an eyebrow at Jia. "In all seriousness, did you really use ketchup to write this?" She waved the paper in Jia's nose.
"In my defence, I thought it'd appeal to your stomach," Jia said.
"That's gross," Min replied. Outside, Jia's mother very evidently gave Min a dirty look. "I think your mother still holds a grudge against me for making out with her shoe."
Jia turned to look at her mother. "Oh, that's her default face," she said airily. "So, see you around?"
"Um," Min blurted. She looked down at the digits in her hand. "I'll call you?"
"I'm free Friday afternoon," Jia said, looking serious. "Hint hint."
"Hint taken," Min said, relaxing into a smile. "Bring some food, too, would you?"
"Always the provider," Jia called over her shoulder.