Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 15: On the opposite end of a butt-kicking

Wilbur recovered in three days out of sheer spite. The broken ribs kept him from making any big movements, but he wasn't a second late. To say Tommy was glad to see Wil would be an understatement. If you asked him, he would say it was only because Wilbur bought him ice-cream after his lessons with Niki.

Speaking of his personal trainer, she had canceled their session for the day. Wil didn't give a reason, but Tommy was happy to have the afternoon to himself. He took the opportunity to do laundry. Tubbo was still too depressed to leave the house for anything other than work.

Tommy chose to make the best of it. He hadn't seen Puffy in a while, his roommate having done most of the laundry since he got shot. Faintly, he thought about the obituary he'd seen with her listed as the only family member. He knew better than to ask about it, but the idea was there.

He needed to stay positive. Lately, everyone in his life had been dragging him down; Wilbur was sulking over his injuries, Tubbo was feeling down, and even Ranboo hadn't been himself.

Yes, his bubbly boss had been a shell during Tommy's shifts. He'd never seen Ranboo in such a state, dragging his feet everywhere and answering rowdy customers with half as much vigor as usual. He typically sprung at the chance to kick assholes out of his parent's business. Tommy never thought he'd see the day where Ranboo would send a Karen off with nothing more than a coupon.

Once, he inquired, but all he got as a response was, "Just not feeling well."

Puffy stole him away from all the dread and gloom of the world. The second he walked through her door, she greeted him with a wide smile. "Tommy! Where have you been, man?"

"Doing cool guy shit," Tommy answered, mimicking her joyful expression. "As usual."

"That's what I like to hear!" Puffy closed her computer to give him her full attention. "So, how's being an apprentice?"

He choked.

Right. He kept forgetting that she knew about his deal with Wilbur. He just needed to tell her about the company, not about being a supervillain.

"Evil."

Fuck.

Puffy laughed, "Yeah, I hear you! I bet Phil's forcing you guys to do a lot of paperwork. As someone who used to work a nine-to-five, I can say that definitely sucks."

"That's exactly the problem, yes," Tommy said. He distracted himself by shoving his laundry into a machine. "I am just so swamped with forging signatures."

Puffy's cackling eased his worries, and he felt like he could breathe for the first time in a week. The hum of the washing machines reverberated around the room, filling even the silence with a comfortable noise.

"Shall we go grab some lunch," she offered. Going out with Puffy felt like a memory from the past. He had so few normal people in his life anymore that he could finally appreciate the little things. "I know the perfect place."

~~~~

Tommy was not very big on spicy food, but it seemed that was all that was on the menu at Puffy's so-called perfect place.

"You looked a little pale," she explained with a mischievous grin. "I thought we might put some color into that complexion."

The second they walked in, Tommy was hit with a wave of flavor. The room was cold, but the smell of food was like a heat of its own. There were several tables packed with people, mostly young adult men. Flat screen TVs, all showing sports games, and neon signs decorated the walls.

"Ayup," a voice called from across the restaurant. "Ms. Puffy! I see you've brought someone along this time."

A man waltzed over to them. He was on the shorter side, with a buzz cut that made him look vaguely bald. His baggy clothes gave the illusion that he was just some lanky waiter, but with the way he held a tray of drinks in one hand, Tommy could tell there were muscles hiding there.