Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

  • Mood:

This is so wrong.

And I keep saying that, yet I keep reading it. And laughing until I cry.


tesla321 and I had a friendly disagreement over cracktrailer. I completely see her side of the discussion and Dude, I'm the last person to try to sway anyone to the dark side.


Really, tho~ She asked me how'd I'd feel about people writing RPS set in a bakery. Where I live.

And me, being the smart~ass that I am . . . replied . . . Go for it. I dare you. In fact I triple dog dare you. (skipping right to the heart, bypassing the double dog dare)

So she did.

And she has.

And she continues.

And I am *so* not a Mary Sue in a story I'm not writing. I'm just a immoral bakery manager with a lot of icing sitting around. And a Store Manager that is Sex personified.

This may be AU . . . but it's *my* world, damnit. And I'm living in it.

Title: Midnight in the Bakery of Good and Evil
Author: Tesla
Genre: RPS

Notes: This is Bakery!verse slash, because while I
support with all my heart the folks who write Crackverse, I find it...too much like my real life.
I suggested to Snow that it would be like someone writing RPS set in her bakery----and she dared me.

Who knows where this'll go?

Part 1 ~

"I'm putting James on your shift," Joss told David.

David stopped knotting his tie, and turned and glared at the regional manager.

"I'm sorry, I'm hearing things. I thought you said you were putting James, 'I'm just slumming until I get into Julliard,' Marsters on my shift."

"Yes," Joss said. Even though they were the same height, he always backed away from David. "Why are you bitching? You're just slumming until you get my job."

David turned back to the tiny mirror in the managers' office. "I don't want your damned job," he said, straightening his tie. "The guy's a flake. "

"But he hasn't done anything to be fired," Joss said. "We can't can him, we'd have the union on us before James even realized he was fired."

"I'm not scared of Chris," David said, picking up his clipboard of shipment dockets."

"I am," Joss said. "He's one pissed-off redneck. I wish to hell he'd go back to Oklahoma or where ever the hell he's from." He spread his hands in a conciliatory fashion. "Look, Dave, you're the only one who can get these people to work.
If they can't work for you, then they can't work. Chris knows that. Hell, remember when Sarah was fighting with Ally and Faith and Eliza? You calmed them all down."

David went to the door. "I took them all with me to night shift," he said, opening it and leaving. "Thanks a lot."

"But they wanted to work for you!" Joss called after him.

David's first stop was at the bakery. "I found you a doughnut fryer," he told Snowy.

The bakery manager raised one eyebrow.

"James is coming over from day."

"Oh, fine. I hope you guys have explained to him what the age of consent is in this state," Snowy said. "What about
a cashier? It's killing us to have to run up here and check people out."

"Eliza is coming."

"Oh, good. Because she gets along with everyone." At David's stare, the woman dropped her eyes. "Well, she gets along with me."

"Tell me if there's any danger of Eliza stuffing him in the cold locker," David said. "Hey, is that German chocolate?"

Rolling her eyes, Snowy dipped a plastic spoon in the bowl of icing, and held it out to David. David wrapped his large hand around hers, and guided it to his mouth.

"God," he groaned. "That's so good."

"I hate it when you're on a diet," Snowy said. "You hang around here like a crack addict."

"Hey, is this where I'm working?" said a very Californian voice.

David's face closed, and Snowy gave him a sympathetic look.

"Gee, James, I'm so glad you remembered to show up."

The smaller man gave the manager a genial smile. "Hey, dude, I just had a message on my answering machine. Alex was kind of mad, so I had a hard time understanding him."

David loomed over him. "I'm not mad. Don't ask out teenagers while you're on store property, and I won't care. What you do at, say, Wal-Mart, is your business. Hey! Food court at the mall! Try that. Just no cookie groupies here, 'kay?"

"Fuck you, Bor--"

"Hey, that's no way to talk in front of a purty lady," said someone. All three of them turned, to see the union rep leaning in the doorway. "Improper and harassin' language is not appropriate in the work place. I'm the only one who gets to say that to management."

"Chris," David said, unexcitedly.

"David, man, just came to pick up a birthday cake. James, Snowy---everything cool?" His tone was light but his face was tight and controlled.

James nodded. Snowy folded her arms and grinned.

"Well, all righty then."

Part 2 ~

Chris likes being a union rep. Likes fucking with management, having power to pull a storeful of employees out on strike. Having the balls to do it, too. Gets along with the union members, gets a travel allowance, gets to drive around and make snap checks and report the dickheads to OSHA.

Likes just about everything about his life, especially being the fuck away from the cold-ass winters and tornado summers of Oklahoma. Oh, yeah, southern California was so sweet.

What is a pain in the ass is that big-shouldered night manager of the PennySaver's Supermarket, the one with the spiky hair and the hot chocolate eyes. It makes for a long day, so Chris tells himself. Having to catch the freakin' workaholic.

Sometimes the guy is chilled out. Sometimes he's all clenched-jawed former hockey forward, ready to slice out an eye. Chris can appreciate that Dave has to run a store with not enough staff, and new hires that quit before they finish their
training; and all the losers and slackers are given one last chance on night shift. It's Dave's job to write up the final evaluation before the employees gets canned. It's Chris' job to check up on him and make sure he does it right.
Dave always has, but he's getting to the point where the very sound of Chris' voice makes Dave's left eye squint.

Chris loves it.


James is frying doughnuts and writing a song at the same time. He thinks that Snowy's eyes are going to be permanently stuck on "roll", but she's pretty cool about him stopping and writing lyrics. As long as the doughnuts are crispy and
done on time, she's cool.

He has to make sure Manager David doesn't see. Manager David is an asshole. Manager Dave has problems admitting that he's a self-hating gay guy.

"Oh, Jeeeezus," Snowy mutters. "I seriously doubt that he hates himself."

Eliza goes off into fits of dirty-sounding laughter. Her voice is deep and raspy for such a petite girl.

"Big Dave must be bi, then," she said. "No way he's ever
giving up pussy."

James looks offended. "That big lug doesn't have the sensitivity to be bisexual."

"As a bisexual, I'm offended," Eliza said, accidentally on purpose knocking a doughnut on the floor mat. She picked it up and bit into it. "Hey, Chris, is it sexual harassment to discuss your sexual preference?"

"Not unless and until one of the parties objects. It's considered harassment to tell a gay or lesbian worker to conceal their sexual preference," Chris said precisely.

"Is it harassment to ask the manager if he wants to see my new tat?" Snowy asked, setting the timer on one of the ovens. "Because I finally got the Wolfie."
Delicately, she popped the nozzle off one of the icing sleeves. "Want the last squirt, Chris?"

"Sure, baby," Chris said, easily. He opened his mouth, and Snow shot a plug of boiled icing onto his tongue.

Eliza nudged James, snorting. "Jealous?" she whispered.

"Of icing?" he whispered back, looking at her like she was crazy.

"No, you stupid fuck, of that mouth!"

"Wedding cake?" Manager David asked, from the kitchen doorway, looking stricken and betrayed. "You're giving the union my icing?"

Part 3 ~

"What's with Manager David and the icing?" James asked Snowy. "And why do we call him 'Manager David.' anyway? We're all grown here."

"Some of us are, " Snowy said, mixing batter. "Because we also have Manager Julie and Joss, and all those benighted trainees. You know you're Doughnut Boy, don't you?
And I'm Cake Lady?"

"Doughnut boy," James muttered. "Great. Perfect. My life officially sucks."

"Oh, how's your thing with Michelle going?" Snowy asked innocently. "Is it interfering with your thing with Vinnie?"

James looked at her like he was contemplating the trajectory of a doughnut batter shot.

"Watch it, rock star. I can read your little pedophile mind. No secrets are hidden from the Cake Lady!"

James concentrated on dropping a batch of doughnuts in the fryer. "Vinnie is 19. How did you know?"

"He was sitting on the hood of your car eating doughnuts, waiting for you," Snowy said. "Not that hard to figure out. Just don't let the big guy know."

"He's going to do what? Vinnie is legal, and we can date fellow employees."

"Vinnie is a kid, and David has been known to accidentally lock people in the dairy case. Overnight. No body sees nuthin' and nobody hears nuthin'."

James straightened up. "You are an evil, evil Cake Lady."


"So what is it with Big D and icing?" Chris asked Snowy in the coffee room.

She shoved a chair out with one Reebok. "Gosh, that's a popular question these days. The guy's on a diet. He eats one spoonful of icing a night, when I have some leftover. His favorite is wedding cake icing."

Chris straddled the chair, arms crossed on the backrest. "He's odd. When y' first meet him, y' think he's slow or something. But he gets there in the end."

"He's a laid back guy. And there's plenty in this store that want to lay him back."

"Including you?" Chris asked, one side of his mouth going up in that rattlesnake smile.

"Dude. Totally. And back at you."

Chris blinked. "That's reaching."

"Oh, you so want to make him your bitch."

"Yeah, but that's professionally," Chris said.

Snowy shifted in her seat and dug a dollar bill out of her pants pocket. "Betcha y' don't. Betcha he gets you first."

Chris stared at her, his blues eyes darkening. "Fuck you, girlfriend."

"Promises, promises."

Part 4 ~

Night shift coffee breaks at the bakery tended to be surreal. James was still trying to use the nicotine patch, but Snowy and Eliza and Jules all went out and sat on milk crates and smoked. They were rating the 'market men.

"There should be a calendar: Men of the 'Market," Eliza suggested with a giggle.

"David would have to be June, because he doesn't need a staple," Jules said, crossing her ankles and yawning.

"What's up?" James said, stepping out and peeling off his patch.

"We're all being silent regarding the hotness that is David," Eliza said. "Is there any fucking one in the bakery, Doughnut Boy?"

"Hey, I get to ask that!" Snowy objected.

"I'm sorry, Snowy," Eliza said.

"That's all right. Hey, Doughnut Boy, is there any fucking one in the bakery?"

"Jesus!" James said. "I do have a brain. David is."

All three women pitched their cigarettes into the asphalt and went back into the store.

"They all act like I'm seventeen," James grumbled, digging out a pack of Marlboros.

"And now you're talking to yourself," Chris said, from where he was inspecting the loading bay. "What happened to the girls?"

"They realized that our manager was in the bakery," James said, accepting a light.

He turned his head to blow out a puff of smoke and when he turned back, Chris was gone.

"Dissed at every turn," he snorted.

Vinnie came out from around the loading bay, stripping off his large plastic gloves.

"Not by me," he said. His jeans rode low on his lean hips, and he walked over and plucked the cigarette out of James' mouth.

"You better have something else for my oral fixation---okay," James said, as Vinnie substituted his tongue.

Inside the store, all three women ran into each other in the doorway. David was leaning on the counter in a rapt discussion with the Bread Lady---the volunteer who collected old bread for the homeless shelter.

"I really admire your volunteerism," David was saying. "Not many people would be up at four in the morning to get bread for strangers."

"I hate that biyotch," Eliza muttered. Snowy jabbed her in the stomach.

"She only started coming in after she met him at the gym," Jules whispered.

"Whore," Snowy said, and pushed past them by main force.

Behind them, their union rep said, "Who the hell is the yuppie chick?" in a tone of indignation.

Jules reached in her pocket and gave Eliza two dollars.

Part 5 ~

Everyone hated Snowy for going to the Food Safety Class with Manager David.

"Carsex," Eliza said gloomily. "They are so going to have carsex. She'll whip out her icing sleeve, and he'll whip out---"

"Jesus Christ, is that all you women talk about?"

Jules, Eliza and Andy swivelled their heads to James.

"Sorry, Andy," James said, belatedly.

"I would be offended, but since I've been one of the girls for years now, not. I think we should have a pool."

"I'm afraid to ask," James said, sitting down in the break room and re-tying his New Balances.

The other three looked at him for a moment in pity, and went on with their conversation.

"I can see them now. She'll decorate that nice belly of his and lick---"

"Ixnay on the elly-bay, dollface," Andy said quickly.

David leaned on the doorjamb. "Bad news, Eliza. The afternoon cashier totally jammed the cash register. All you can do is give them a ticket and send 'em up front. James, Snow says the day crew didn't pull the stale bread. She's pulling it now, but can you punch in and help her? And will you please wear the hair-net?"

James put his hands on his hips. "My hair is short enough that the regs don't require one."

"You've got a pigtail down the back of your shirt!" David said.

"It's only one fourth of an inch wide," James said.

Jules sat up. "You had Vinnie measure your pigtail? What else did he measure?"

"No, he---"James shut up.

David smoothed his tie, looking down at James. "That kid's parents are going to sue us all," he said.

"Hey, if you have anything to say about my sexual preferences, do it, Dave. I'm sure Chris'll be glad to file a union grievance."

"Fuck you, and fuck Chris too," David said. "Put the hat on."

He turned and left, followed by James, without the white paper hat.

Andy put down two dollar bills on the table. "How much do you have on David locking James in the cold storage?"

Eliza got money from her pocket. "I'll take that. Three says James gets caught on the cake table with Vinnie."

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.


tesla321 . . . more would be nice. I mean, just the imagery of putting icing on Manager Dave? Ummmm, yeah. I'll be in my bunk.


::shags you for hours on end::
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