The Night Shift: A Red Dead Redemption 2 AU

vi. An Incident

As with all of her previous serving jobs, Mia's life became inextricable from that of Outlaw. She spent most of her time inside and outside of work with her coworkers; after all, they were the only ones who were free.

Mary Beth added her to the group chat, Outlaw for Life, a near-constant stream of texts and photos from whoever wasn't on shift. Mia spent her rides home from the night shift reading up on the conversations. The group chat afforded her the opportunity to meet the daytime servers, Abigail and Lenny, if only digitally; Abigail affectionately dubbed her "imaginary friend."

At least twice a week before shift, Mia accompanied John and Jack on outings. They'd take the boy to the playground for as long as they could stand the cold, then brought him to cafés, or libraries, or out grocery shopping. John sent a photo to the group chat of Mia holding Jack next to a Tamara de Lempicka painting in the city art gallery, the boy's eyes wide as she pointed out the figure's full lips, long curly hair.

Nearly every night after work, a collection of the staff headed out to post-shift drinks, and Mia joined them as often as not. As they grabbed their coats and bags, scarves and phones from their lockers, Mia would lob a friendly invite to Arthur, which he'd always decline.

"Don't know why you keep trying to invite him," Karen finally yelled one night over the music of their after-hours bar of choice, the Livery; noisy, dingy, and decidedly less classy than their own workplace.

"Can't come, got cauliflower to prune," John said in a convincing mimic of Arthur's low, rumbling voice.

"Gotta unpoach these eggs," Karen said.

Through gasps of laughter, Mary Beth tried, "Gotta peel these grapes," but was immediately met with Karen and Sian's outrage, both of the chefs leaping to stand.

"That's a real one!' Sian shouted, her red hair standing on end. "He fuckin' made us do that!"

"Gotta put a mighty sear on this arrow hole," Mia offered, and Karen and Sian returned to sitting, the table laughing. But the joke didn't sit quite right with her, making fun of Charles' hard work, of Arthur's, and of something that had impressed her so much.

The feeling didn't last, though, as their regular pitcher of beer arrived, John pouring perfect pints and doling them out to each of them. As December rolled on, she found herself surrounded by colleagues who'd become her friends, and Mia was happier than she'd been in a long time.

*

Saturday was usually Outlaw's busiest night of the week, one of the two where they could stay open later due to the weekend's loosened noise restrictions. This Saturday was no exception, Mia dividing her attention between a full complement of tables as well as the bar, as Dutch wanted Mary Beth's special help with a high-profile guest he'd invited.

Mia blew her hair off of her forehead in the computer cubby and then stepped out from it smiling, ready to greet her next table, bachelor party :( pencilled into the reservation book in Tilly's spindly handwriting.

She spotted the party immediately, four finely-dressed men in peacoats, jewel-toned shirts, and wool pants, wing-tipped shoes on their feet, massive, expensive-looking watches on their wrists. "Hello, gentlemen," she said, reaching for their coats. "My name's Mia, and I'm looking forward to serving you this evening."

"It's our boy's last night of freedom, Mia," said one of the men from behind a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses - wearing them despite the late hour - clapping another one, the groom-to-be, on his back. Mia hated that expression.

"Congratulations," she said to the groom, hanging the final coat into the closet and beckoning them toward their table.

"For what?" Sunglasses guffawed, lowering the glasses enough for Mia to see his hungry expression and the glazed-over eyes of someone who'd already drunk enough. She thought to mention to John to water down his drinks, if he ordered any.