Chapter Text
Men were pigs, Rose decided.
These were her exact thoughts as she walked down the stairs, glancing at the dimly lit sign that read "The Olde Times", and straight to her first day of work. Starting at three in the afternoon was not unreasonable, even for the tiny pub, as the regulars -as Rose would soon find out- came by early.
The door was already unlocked, and cleaning off the rustic counter was her... male boss.
Jack Harkness seemed nice. If Rose hadn't already decided men were pigs, she'd consider his charisma and undeniable charm to be positive and attractive.
Everything about the place old, silly, and eccentric like its name.
A cash register from the fourties, pictures hanging about from every decade, renaissance paintings, and wooden tables. The atmosphere was almost overwhelming in its spontaneity, and old world feel. Rose looked around again, realizing that Jack was the only other person in the room.
"First day, right?"
"Oh, uh, yeah." Came Rose's surprised and stuttered reply. The suave man was looking right at her. Rose quickly reminded that men were pigs, and charming Jack was not an exception to the rule. He sent her a grin accompanied by a lascivious wink. Rose looked away blushing. When she looked back, his back was turned to her.
She held in a sigh. Just as well that men were pigs, they were allowed to still have great bums.
"You'll get on well enough. Just don't let any of these guys grab at you." Jack paused for a moment.
"You look like you're made of strong stuff, Rose. I think you won't hate it here." Jack said, and Rose could heard the smile in his tone. She wanted to think he could be right, but it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. She'd tried all of the places close to where she lived, from salons to even Henrik's, but Jack had been the only one to accept her job offer. She was almost entirely sure he knew she was only nearly twenty, even though she'd lied and written she was nearly twenty two, and not really legally allowed to serve hard liquor.
Rose gave a short laugh and thanked him for his words. Walking around the bar counter, she put her stuff on a low shelf out of prying eyes, and got ready for the influx of customers.
Yesterday, when Rose gave him her application, Jack had accepted instantly (which, as Rose thought about later, should have set off warning bells), and proceeded to give her the run down on how much each customer was allowed to have, and when it was okay to kick the regulars out. It had been unnerving at first for Rose to hear, but when she thought back to breaking up with Jimmy Stone and how she'd left her mum, it didn't sound too bad.
Now, as she pulled the apron tighter around her hips and knotted it, she heard the door open.
So Rose prepared herself for the next chapter of her life begin.
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After the first few times of coming in, John Smith had learned that he should come in earlier to escape the crowd. It was too bright outside still, but the comfort of the dark pub called to him as he crossed the street, barely avoiding being hit by cars. He'd already knocked back at least three drinks before he realized the time, after waking up at two in the afternoon. The throbbing in his head subsided when he opened the door and escaped the noise of the outside world. His own footsteps echoed on the stone steps, sending shockwaves of pain straight to his head. By luck alone, he narrowly missed hitting his head on the lowest part of the stairwell entryway, being of his stature. He ambled his way over to his corner booth, one of three booths lined up against the back wall, and sat heavily. An invisible weight seemed to sit on his shoulders akin to atlas himself.
Rose watched this whole ordeal and saw both the state of this man and began steeling herself for what would come. The man had walked in with a miserable expression, his frown the most distinguishing feature on his face, and headed straight for the booth furthest from her. Rose decided that this was a man who clearly wanted to be left alone, no matter the cost to his appearance. She hadn't caught sight of his face, but saw from the way his clothes clung to his lithe frame he was more or less a beanpole. To Rose, this was not the stature of a very seasoned alcoholic.
Whether he wanted her presence or not, Rose was not going to do poorly at her job or ignore a customer, especially the first customer on her first day.
Jack turned to Rose and whispered, "That's John. He's a scotch man. Dry, on the rocks."
Rose nodded and went behind the bar to try and work that out. She found an open bottle of scotch easy enough, but heard Jack clear his throat. She looked behind at him and he shook his head.
"A new bottle. He pays for the good stuff." Rose nodded again, feeling out of place and out of her league. She couldn't tell one brand from another- Jimmy hadn't been into hard drinking other than cheap vodka, and her mum only drank with her friends. She grabbed a bottle and hopped it was right, grabbed a glass and went over to the back booth. Rose briefly considered putting it all on to a tray and being professional, but she really couldn't guarantee how much would end up making it to the bloke without breaking.
Placing it gently onto the table, Rose went about opening the bottle and began pouring him a drink. She saw more of him now, but not by much. Slouched back, arms and head laid upon the table, Rose could only see what looked like a relatively full head of hair, if not great hair.
Closing up the bottle as quickly as she could, she tried fleeing, and hoping against hope that he would be fine with what was given. When Rose turned around, Jack was nowhere in sight, something that was unsettling Rose down to her very core. Earlier, when Rose was reminding herself how men were pigs, she was just thinking angry thoughts. By god, she really hoped that no one here would be an older, stronger, drunker Jimmy Stone.
Rose heard a noise of disgust behind her. Her stomach flipped.
She turned around instantly and finally saw John's face. It was twisted and frustrated, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Rose almost stopped dead in her tracks from confusion. Who carries around a bleeding handkerchief anymore? Rose suddenly remembered why she shouldn't stop when he began to wipe off his tongue with it.
"It's my first day, I'm so sorry." After a split second she continued stammering out, "I'm sorry, I'll get you another drink. I just really can't lose this job." Oh god, she hated how desperate her words made her sound, but by god, she was desperate.
John Smith, who seconds ago had been unhappy to find that his drink was both warm and not his drink, was now very confused. He stared bewilderedly at stammering girl. He'd seen all of two women in here, both of whom seemed to be regulars. Dressed in an apron, jeans, and pink tee-shirt, John Smith decided she was not a regular. Her words began to register in his foggy mind.
"Did Jack quit?" The stammering girl stopped stammering and just stared blankly. Although it was a little better than her decidedly broken english, John melodramatically searched the bar for Jack with a show of turning his head and his eyes open wide. When he looked back up at the girl, he stared her directly in the eye, looking much like the metaphoric deer caught in headlights.
"N-no. Jack's my boss. Today's my first day. I'm trying to get the hang of things still. Sorry about your drink."
After a brief moment of deliberation, John decided that what she was saying made sense. Though, as he looked at her again, she barely looked twenty.
"Don't get to used to this place. You shouldn't be here anyway."
She looked at him affronted, and scoffed at him, but before she could open her mouth and give him a piece of her mind, Jack's voice came from the bar.
"I'll put that in the suggestion box, John, but I think I'll decide who works under my employment." While Rose didn't need Jack to be her knight in shining armor against this rude bloke, his timely appearance was appreciated.
Rose took the drinks back to the bar with a huff, and John waved it off. It wasn't meant to come across quite as callous as it had, but really. She was clean looking, innocent, pretty and young. She shouldn't get accustomed to dealing with bastards like himself and the rest of the people who would most likely arrive soon.
John shook his head and waited patiently for his drink. Hopefully someone would get it right before the night was over.
As far as first days go, it was far from the worst, Rose thought. Men were still pigs.