The Romantic Art of Bitchcraft

Derby Drudgery

***This is another AU, where Madison is a racer in a demolition derby (if you don't know, it's like bumper cars except with real vehicles that actually get destroyed; the last car to have a working running engine wins), and Zoe works as a concession worker in the stands. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy it!***

  

  

   Zoe couldn't help but flinch as two cars collided, earning an approving roar from the rambunctious crowd in the stands. She found herself stopping and staring, watching as the two vehicles sat motionless.
   "Looks like Racers 202 and 36 are both out of commission, folks!" came the voice of the announcer from the viewer's box, which Zoe and the other concession employees referred to as the Eagle Nest.
   Many on-lookers groaned at the announcement, audible verification that they had lost the bets they'd casted at the beginning of the round, guessing which vehicle was going to last the longest.
   Zoe peeked carefully towards the windshield of the cars-- or rather, where the windshield should be. None of the vehicles in the race had any glass, as it could be dangerous to fans if a collision sent shards into the bleachers. The drivers of Racer 36 and 202 were moving, an observation that Zoe made with a sigh of relief. Car crashes-- even intentional ones-- were always dangerous for the drivers.
   "Hey cutie!" the man next to her suddenly called, reaching up to grab her ass. "You got any beer?"
   Zoe side-stepped out of his reach, her eyes flashing. She wanted so badly to tell the pervert off, but her boss had chided her about that so many times already; one more offense and she'd be fired, and she really needed this job. So instead, she sucked in a breath and plastered on a sickly sweet smile.
   "Alcoholic beverages are sold in that tent over there," she politely informed him, pointing out Fiona's Fun Brews.
   "Hmm," the man grunted. "That's a bit of a walk."
   Zoe turned to go, assuming the conversation to be over.
   "Hey, now, sweetheart, where you going?" the man chuckled, grabbing onto her wrist. "Can't you grab a paying customer a drink?"
   "I'm not a waitress, sir," Zoe snapped, shaking the box of snacks in her arms to loosen his grip. "I just sell peanuts and shit. If you want a drink, you have two perfectly functioning legs that can walk you over to that tent to get one yourself."
   The man narrowed his eyes at her and yanked her so close to his face that she could feel his breath.
   "You don't want to go humiliating men," he growled, tightening his grip on her wrist. "There's nothing more dangerous than a humiliated man."
   "Kai!" the young woman sitting next to him scolded. "Let her go!"
   The man, Kai, regarded the silver-haired young woman beside him, and decided it was best to comply.
   He let go of Zoe's wrist, but he kept his steely gaze on her.
   "Don't forget what I told you," he smirked.
   "Sorry about him," the woman said, offering a sympathetic smile. "He can get a little crazy sometimes, but I promise he's harmless."
   Zoe couldn't bring herself to respond. She knew it was rude, but she just turned and ran away, down the walkway and right out of the bleachers, ignoring the calls of other patrons who wanted to make a purchase.
   Something about the man just really unnerved her, and she felt the need to get out of there. The derby was winding down anyway; there was only four cars left running. In the next few minutes, everybody would be taking off coming out of the bleachers, and Zoe really didn't think she could handle the crowd in that moment.
   She raced down to the area with the food trucks and concession stands, walking until she found her employer's. 
   "What are you doing here?" her boss, Michael Langdon, questioned. "The derby's not over. You need to be out there selling your shit!"
   "I just need a minute," Zoe pleaded, trying to catch her breath. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like walls were closing in on her except the walls were in her chest. It was a strange sensation that she'd never experienced before that left her head spinning. She did not care for it. She felt like she was about to pass out.
   Mr. Langdon narrowed his eyes at her.
   "Let me put it this way," he hissed, bending his knees slightly so that they were eye level with each other. "You can either get out there and sell every single item in this basket, or you're fired."
   Zoe tried to respond, to beg for her job, but the only thing that happened was that her legs gave out, and she sat abruptly on the floor.
   Her boss took that as his answer.
   "Get the fuck out of my sight, you lazy sack of shit!" he snarled.
   Zoe sucked in air as she slipped the straps of the snackbox off her shoulders. She had to struggle to get to her feet, and then made her way to the door on unsteady legs.
   "If I were you," Michael warned, "I wouldn't use my name as a reference."
   Zoe managed a nod before limping past him and into the throngs of people milling around the lot.
   Apparently the derby was over.
   Well, now that she was out of a job, she might as well help the crew clean up the race pit. They were always short on volunteers, but Michael had always kept her too busy after the races to go over and help out.
   She started for the pit, but only made it as far as the bleachers before her legs gave way again. She would have hit the ground hard, too, if it wasn't for the arms of a stranger that managed to catch her.
   "Hey, are you okay?" the stranger asked, real concern evident in her hazel eyes.
   "I... am now," Zoe said, catching sight of her savior.
   The woman was small, with a very thin frame and almost a full head shorter than Zoe. She had gorgeous blonde hair that somehow perfectly matched the confident aura that surrounded her. She also looked so familiar, Zoe could have sworn she'd seen her before.
   The blonde smiled at her, blushing slightly when she realized she still had her arms around the brunette. She dropped her hands to her sides, trying to mask her embarrassment.
   "So, uh, ma'am--"
   "Zoe!" Zoe introduced herself, offering her hand. "Zoe Benson."
   "Zoe," the blonde smiled. "Where were you headed?"
   "The pit," she told her, pointing it out for her in case she didn't know.
   The woman frowned, following her gaze.
   "I don't know if you're allowed over there," she said.
   "Oh, don't worry, I am; I work here," Zoe assured her. "Or, did. I, uh, sorta just got fired, like five minutes ago."
   The blonde crinkled her nose at her.
   "And you still want to help clean up?"
   Zoe shrugged. "Why not? It'll be fun. I can meet the drivers, find out who won and congratulate them--"
   "You work here and you don't know who won?" the blonde cut her off, clearly trying to hold in her laughter.
   "Technically I don't work here anymore," Zoe grinned.
   "Ah," the blonde said, still smiling at the girl. "Well maybe that's why you got fired."
   "No, that's not it," Zoe promised, letting out a small laugh. "I got fired because my boss is the antichrist and wouldn't let me have a moment to breathe."
   "Oh?" the blonde smirked. "What happened?"
   "I..." Zoe stopped smiling, recalling the uncomfortable encounter she had had. "There was this man, in the bleachers. He, uh... Well, he wasn't very polite, I'll just say that. And I started to feel, I don't know, like a weird drowning-on-air kind of feeling. I don't know. It made my head spin and I... I don't know. It was strange, nothing like that has ever happened to me before."
   The whole time Zoe had been talking, the blonde's look of concern had returned and grown more prominent. By the time she was done, there was a fierce expression on the little woman's face, and Zoe didn't quite know what to think of it.
   "This feeling you had," the woman began. "Did it feel like you were about to pass out, like it made it hard to breathe or even stand?"
   Zoe nodded.
   "I don't know for sure, but I think you might have experienced some sort of panic attack," the woman guessed. "In which case your boss had no right to fire you."
   Zoe shrugged, but the blonde took her hand in her own and started walking the two back the way Zoe had come.
   "Uh, where are we--"
   "To talk to your boss," the blonde growled. "Where is he? I swear, if he doesn't rehire you, I'll have his job!"
   "I don't know if you'll actually accomplish that," Zoe said, sounding dubious. "Who are you, exactly?"
   The blonde stopped for a moment, allowing an amused expression to cross her features.
   "Are you sure you work here?" she joked. "I'm Madison Montgomery, sort of a fan favorite around here."
   Zoe's jaw dropped.
   "The Madison Montgomery?" she questioned.
   Madison snorted. "Is there any other?"
   "Not for me," Zoe blurted, instantly slapping a hand over her mouth and regretting the day she was born.
   Luckily, Madison only laughed.
   "You're adorable," the blonde remarked. "And hardworking, from what I can tell, and you deserve to have your job back."
   "Wait," Zoe pleaded, grabbing Madison's hand to stop her. The racer turned around, a brow raised as a smirk graced her lips in such a way that it made Zoe blush and let go. "I just, uh, it's very sweet of you, that you're willing to, you know, help me get my job back. But I also, well, I kind of don't, uh--"
   "You don't want your old job back," Madison guessed.
   Zoe chewed nervously on her bottom lip, which was all the response the racer needed.
   "Was your boss that bad?" she asked.
   Zoe laughed drily at the question.
   "It was like working for the Devil himself," she said.
   Madison gave her a sympathetic look.
   "Well," she said, her eyes shining with something like mischief, though perhaps the look was more innocent. One thing Zoe could see: the girl had an idea in her head. "You know, I just so happen to be in need of a good assistant. Someone who can book my races, help me clean up after them, find me shops to fix my ride up during my down time... or even just get me a snack or something on occassion."
   "And you want me?" Zoe asked, incredulous.
   "Why not?" Madison shrugged. "You obviously know how to deal with the race track owners and you know enough about the vehicles to help me clean mine up, and what you don't know I'll teach you. Plus, you're cute, and this will give us a chance to get to know each other."
   Zoe nodded.
   "Oh," she managed.
   "So...Do you want the job?"
   "Oh!" Zoe said, realizing she had forgotten to give Madison an answer. "The job! Right! Uh, yeah. I mean yes. Yes ma'am, I would love to work as your assistant."
   Madison chuckled at her enthusiasm.
   "You don't have to call me 'ma'am,'" she chided. "I'm only like, a year or two older than you."
   "Sure thing ma'am... Madison," Zoe blushed, making her new boss shake her head in amusement.
   "Oh, and by the way," Madison purred, brushing a lock of the brunette's hair behind her ear. "I don't have any rules against employees sleeping with their employer."
   Zoe shivered with delight.
   Something told her she was going to like her new job, and the boss that came with it.