Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

Did She Just- •|| CHAGATHA ||•

Prompt: Chef has a rather... Annoying day and has a raging outburst after the nursery closed. Agatha managed to calm her down, much to everyone's surprise.

The air in the nursery was thick with tension as the last child was picked up, and the doors were locked for the day. The normally bustling, cheerful atmosphere had been replaced by an uneasy silence. Chef, the nursery cook and resident storm cloud, had been on edge all day. A broken stove in the kitchen, a sudden influx of food allergies she hadn’t been warned about, and a particularly snarky parent who had complained about the nutritional value of her carefully prepared meals had worn her patience razor-thin.

The others had done their best to stay out of her way, but the brewing storm was impossible to ignore.

When the last parent finally left, Chef stood in the middle of the kitchen, her broad shoulders heaving as she muttered under her breath, slamming a pot onto the counter with enough force to rattle the cabinets.

“Of course the stove breaks the one day I need it. Of course, everyone has opinions about my food today! And that—” she growled, gripping the edge of the counter so tightly her knuckles turned white, “—that parent can shove their quinoa suggestions where the sun don’t shine!”

She spun around, her temper boiling over as she kicked a nearby chair, sending it skidding across the tiled floor with a loud scrape.

“Chef,” Marjorie called cautiously from the doorway, her hands raised as though approaching a wild animal. “Maybe you should—”

“I should what?” she snapped, her piercing glare pinning her in place. “Calm down? Take a deep breath? That what you’re gonna say?”

Marjorie opened her mouth, but no words came out. She backed away slightly, shooting a glance toward the hallway. Others were peeking out from various rooms, exchanging nervous looks.

Before anyone could intervene, Agatha strolled in, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. The nursery receptionist was known for her no-nonsense attitude, but no one expected her to confront Chef at a moment like this.

“Alright, enough,” Agatha said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. She stopped in front of Chef, arms crossed, her expression calm but unyielding.

Chef glared at her, the fire in her eyes flickering uncertainly. “What do you want, Agatha?” she growled.

“I want you to stop throwing a tantrum like a child,” Agatha replied coolly. “You’re scaring the staff.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. No one spoke to Chef like that—no one dared to.

Chef’s jaw clenched, her hands balling into fists, but before she could say anything, Agatha softened her tone. “Come on, Callie,” she said, using Chef’s first name—a name most people didn’t even know. “You’ve had a bad day. I get it. But breaking chairs isn’t going to make it better.”

The use of her name seemed to deflate Chef slightly. She ran a hand through her short-cropped hair, her anger giving way to exhaustion. “I just…” She hesitated, her voice quieter. “It’s been a lot today.”

“I know,” Agatha said gently, stepping closer. “But you’ve dealt with worse, haven’t you?”

Chef let out a bitter laugh, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

Agatha placed a hand on her arm, her touch surprisingly tender. “Let it go, Callie. You’re better than this.”

Chef sighed, the tension in her frame finally melting away. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice gruff but less volatile. “I’m done.”

Agatha nodded, satisfied, and turned to the stunned onlookers. “Show’s over. Back to work, or go home.”

The others scattered, whispering to one another as they left the scene.

Marjorie lingered near Carly, who was watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. “Well, that was something,” Marjorie muttered. “Didn’t think anyone could calm Chef down like that.”

Carly hummed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she said softly, her eyes narrowing as she watched Agatha and Chef exchange a brief, knowing glance before parting ways. “Something tells me there’s more to those two than we realize.”

Marjorie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Carly just shrugged, her smile widening. “Call it a hunch.”