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d3-iseefire · 4 years

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@strictlynofrills - Here you go! I’ sorry it took so long! I was writing it on work breaks and after I got home! hope you enjoy it! :D

"Look out!"

Bilba barely had time to register the words before a short, hyperactive blur darted across her path. She sucked in her gut and twisted, simultaneously lifting the two full trays she'd been carrying in each hand.

As she did she crouched ever so slightly, trying to keep her movements as fluid and seamless as possible. On the trays two full glasses wobbled and Bilba tensed. Then they settled and she let out a slow breath in relief.

A smattering of applause came from a handful of patrons and Bilba took a careful, partial curtsey in gratitude. A few feet to the side, the small boy that had nearly caused her to trip had the good manners to look embarrassed. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Bilba said, keeping her voice modulated and soft. "Let's just leave the running for the playground in the future, okay?"

He nodded and resumed his trek toward the bathroom, still moving quickly but no longer in a full out run.

Bilba shook her head, struggling to ignore the way her legs wobbled beneath her, and resumed her trek into the restaurant's dim room. She'd never particularly cared for mood lightning before but was grateful for it today as the bags under her eyes were especially dark and makeup had done little to cover them entirely.

No one wanted a waitress who looked like she'd stepped out of a zombie movie.

She wound her way around glass topped wooden tables and chairs wrapped in plum colored leather, navigating pushed out chairs and sprawled personal belongings with ease.

Many of the tables were occupied with regulars and she greeted each with a bright smile as she set down appetizers, entrees, desserts and drinks. Quiet, relaxing music played over the low, steady flow of conversation and she saw more than one female guest slide off uncomfortable looking heels to sink sore toes into the plush carpeting.

Shire had been designed to be both upscale and cozy. Patrons could expect a high-class experience, but one where they also felt comfortable and relaxed. It was a place to bring a date, hold a business meeting, or just come and relax over a glass of wine after a long workday.

It'd be a perfect place to sleep too, Bilba thought, gazing with longing at the padded booths. She sighed and forced her eyes away, focusing instead on a familiar figure in a darkened booth at the back of the restaurant. Bilba saved him for last, in the hopes of being able to spend a minute or two speaking to him. As she sat his plate down he smiled up at her fondly. "And how are you doing tonight, my dear?"

Bilba glared at him. "Don't give me that, Gandalf."

The elderly man raised an eyebrow innocently. "Is there a problem?"

"You know darn well there is." Bilba gave into her fatigue just a little and slid into the booth across from him. Her head was pounding with the promise of a headache and she had that all over ache that was her body's way of telling her she should have gone to bed days ago. It had become almost a part of her over the past year and there seemed to be no getting used to it no matter how much coffee she drank.

She lowered her voice to a low hiss, not wanting to disrupt the other guests. "You didn't tell me everything about the new maitre d'."

The older man's other eyebrow slowly raised. "Did I not?" He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. "I'm certain I was quite thorough."

Bilba's glare deepened. Gandalf was an old family friend, and also one of the most prominent lawyers in the city. He'd been the one to convince her that trying to run Shire completely alone, filling the role of owner, manager, and maitre d' was simply insane. He'd offered to find her someone trustworthy and reliable to help with some of the workload, and she'd reluctantly agreed.

A few weeks later he'd brought her a name. Fili Durin. Bilba had recognized the last name as belonging to the past owners of Arkenstone, an internationally known, high end restaurant. At its height people were making reservations a year or more in advance and, those lucky enough to get in and actually afford something, would be guaranteed to find themselves in the midst of the world's most famous and powerful people.

The last Durin owner, Thrain, had made a series of increasingly bad business decisions that, ultimately, had resulted in a hostile takeover by Smaug Drakestone. He was the owner of Drakestone Barbecue, a retail federation of chain, fast food restaurants. The day he'd taken over, he'd turned Arkenstone into the flagship for his chain, much to the public outcry of the culinary world.

The Durins, driven into near bankruptcy according to rumor, had faded from the public eye and gone unheard of by anyone for years, or at least before Gandalf had held up that slim file. Bilba had been impressed with his education and degree in both culinary arts and hospitality but had been far less enthralled with his lack of experience.

When she'd pointed that out to Gandalf the man had simply chuckled. "Are you sure you're the one to be making that judgement, my dear?"

The words had brought a flush of red to her cheeks, as well as an ego check. Bilba had never wanted to work in the restaurant industry and had taken little interest in Shire as anything more than a way to get free gourmet food whenever she wanted. She'd been going to school for a degree in creative writing when...everything had happened.

It had been a trial by fire for her, trying to learn what she needed to know to ensure her parent's dream didn't die with them, and there were certainly days where she couldn't say for sure if she was sinking or swimming.

Most days she was pretty sure it was the former.

"What the boy lacks in experience he makes up for in passion," Gandalf had said gently to ease the sting of his prior words. "Much like someone else I could name. Give him a chance. I have a feeling you won't be disappointed."

Bilba had agreed, trusting the other man to not steer her wrong.

It was a decision she both loved and deeply regretted at the same time.

"Has the boy not been doing a satisfactory job?" Gandalf asked now, brows pulling together in concern.

"On the contrary," Bilba mumbled. "He's done an amazing job."

More than amazing, really. Fili was the first one in and often the last one out. He manned the front desk, managed the staff, kept schedules up, and still somehow managed to learn the names of their patrons as well as their likes and dislikes. He had the uncanny ability to gauge a person's personality after a few seconds of speaking to them and organized the seating to ensure people were not seated next to personalities that would clash with their own. Shire's approval scores had gone up over 15% since he'd started, and the pressure on Bilba's shoulders had gone from crippling to simply overbearing.

Hell, she'd been averaging almost five hours of sleep a night, not taking into account this past week when Fili had been gone.

"Well," Gandalf asked in confusion. "If that's not the problem, my dear, then wha--"

His voice trailed off as a presence fell over them. Bilba felt her gut clench. Oh no. She'd forgotten he was supposed to be back that night.

"Ah, Mr. Durin," Gandalf said cheerfully. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

"The pleasure is mine," a familiar bass said and Bilba's insides literally begin to do a full on, Olympic style gymnastics routine. Bastards. "Miss Baggins--"

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as Bilba jumped to her feet, planning to...do...something...only to feel her hand smack into the tray she'd set on the edge of the table when she'd sat down.

The one she'd collected a few empty dishes and sets of cutleries on, intending to take it back with her.

In almost slow motion she watched as the entire tray flipped off the edge of the table. The loud clatter of knives, spoons and forks hitting the ground ripped through the serene atmosphere of the dining room, along with the unmistakable shattering of glass as the carpeting failed to save the three plates and near empty soup bowl as they impacted.

Most restaurants had tile floors for just such situations, Bilba found herself thinking irrationally as she watched the remnants of dark liquid soak into the tan covered fibers. Her parents had liked the carpet, insisting it gave a homier feel to the place. They hadn't minded having to deep clean the carpets on a near weekly basis to ensure they stayed looking their very best.

Bilba minded, very much. Particularly since, as of late, it had all been thanks to her that they needed to be cleaned to begin with.

Total silence fell over the restaurant, and Bilba felt her face catch fire. She focused on Fili's shoes, the black leather marred by drops of soup, and her heart sank.

"Sorry." She started to drop to her knees, only to stop as his hand closed lightly over her arm to stop her.

"Careful," he said mildly. "You don't want to kneel in broken glass."

Bilba's eyes flicked to his really intense, blue, eyes and an almost electric charge surged right through her. She straightened, fighting a wave of dizziness, and focused on the ground. It was the only way she could to avoid noticing his dark blond hair, or chiseled features, or the way his body filled out his suit -- and, really, who the hell decided maître d's had to always wear suits? Okay, so it wasn't like she minded, much, but she was like five seconds away from having a heart attack at any given moment so that was a problem and -- what was she doing again?

Oh, right, broken glass and humiliation and he was still touching her.

She jerked her arm free with a nervous laugh that she prayed didn't sound borderline hysterical or insane like it did in her head and knelt more carefully.

To her surprise, he knelt next to her. For the first time, she noticed he held the tray in his hand and she realized she hadn't heard the loud clang of it hitting. "Did you catch that?"

"An acquired trait," he said dryly, as he picked up utensils and the larger bits of broken glass. He sounded amused, or at least Bilba hoped he did.

He stood, and Bilba rose with him, closing her eyes this time and breathing through her nose to try and keep her feet. Fili handed her the tray with no small amount of trepidation. Bilba focused on broken bits and pieces of dishes on the tray and, before she could embarrass herself farther, spun and returned to the kitchen, past one of the other servers who was already headed to the area with a vacuum to finish cleaning.

***

Fili watched the young woman until she vanished through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She looked exhausted. She normally looked exhausted, but far more so tonight. Mentally, he kicked himself for having stayed away so long. He should have tried harder to get back earlier.

He sighed and turned back to the booth. He completely ignored the roar of the vacuum as it made quick work of the remaining broken glass and, around him, the rest of the room slowly followed his lead and returned to their own meals.

Once the clean up was finally done, he flashed a smile at Gandalf. "As I was saying, it's good to see you Mr. Grayson."

The older man looked positively delighted by something, and Fili's eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to figure out just what it was.

From the kitchen a second, loud, crash rang out and Fili closed his eyes, counted to five, and then opened them again. "I'm almost afraid to see how much we lost the last five days I was gone."

"I have a feeling you'll find it to be nothing at all," Gandalf said with amusement. "Bilba happens to be the best waitress Shire has."

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Is she?" he asked doubtfully.

"Indeed," Gandalf said. "In fact, she took over your place while you were gone."

There was the slightest hint of censure in his voice and Fili nodded with a grimace, remembering again the deep bags under her eyes. "My grandfather passed away unexpectedly and the funeral was out of town."

He'd been worried over even asking for the time off, funeral or not. He'd e-mailed, believing he could sound calmer and more professional, or at least that's what he'd told himself. In reality, he'd been cringing at the thought. He'd been there a month and was already asking for four days off? He'd expected his request to be rejected out of hand but, to his surprise, the response had been there when he'd awakened the next morning, granting him a full week off, with pay.

"I wanted to thank you," he said now to Gandalf, "for taking a chance on me. I'm in your debt."

His entire family was. It had been a struggle after...everything had happened. They'd needed jobs, and fast, whatever was available that could keep them from losing the last few things they had. Fili had managed to get through college on grants and scholarships, hanging everything on his uncle's conviction that, one day, Arkenstone would rise again. His mother had been against it, having never loved the restaurant to begin with, but Fili had been raised hearing about Arkenstone and his uncle's dreams had quickly become his own.

It was only recently, very recently, that they'd had the luxury to begin thinking about the culinary and restaurant world again. Fili was the first to get a foot through that door, and the hope that had flared to life on his uncle's face upon hearing the news had made every moment of school, and every late night so far at Shire, worth it.

"While I'd like to take credit for it," Gandalf said. "It was Bilba who ultimately took the chance."

"Yes," Fili's eyes flickered toward the kitchen where the silence was beginning to worry him. A working kitchen was no place for someone as exhausted as she clearly was. "In any event, I'm grateful to you both."

"So it would seem." Gandalf's eyes narrowed in contemplation, and then he nodded toward the kitchen. "What do you think of Miss Baggins?"

Fili frowned. "She needs to take better care of herself," he said without hesitation. "She's no good to anyone, least of all herself, if she's near dead on her feet."

Again, a flash of guilt raced through him. Part of the reason he'd been hired was to take the burden off her. He made a mental note to work even harder to make up for the extra load she'd had to take on while he'd been gone.

"She cares deeply for her parent's legacy," Gandalf said. He seemed about to say something else but thought twice about it, and simply gave Fili a slight smile.

Taking the hint, Fili nodded and took his leave, not wanting the man's food to get cold.

He spent the rest of the evening managing the room, speaking to guests and politely ignoring the flirtatious grins of at least three young women. Once the last customer had left he oversaw clean up and closing, before walking several of the female servers out to their cars to ensure they weren't harassed in the parking lot. Security was on his mental list of things Shire could use but he hadn't felt it was his place to suggest it just yet.

Bilba hadn't reappeared since the incident earlier so, after he'd locked the front door, he headed toward the back hallway. The door to the main office was shut but there was a light shining out from underneath.

He hesitated, and then knocked lightly on it. When there was no response, he cleared his throat and said, "I just wanted to thank you for granting my time off request and assure you I don't plan to abuse the privilege. I know you took a chance on hiring me, and I intend to make you happy you did."

He flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. Happy you did? Mahal, could he be anymore cringey? He started to say something else, decided he'd said enough already, and nodded at the closed door. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

Mentally, he hoped she was in there taking the opportunity to catch up on sleep. He personally doubted it, but one could always hope.

***

On the other side of the door, Bilba stared down forlornly at the glass of wine she'd knocked over when Fili had knocked on the door. She hadn't realized anyone was still there so late, let alone him.

Talk to him, her internal voice had scolded as he spoke. It's not hard. Just open your mouth and say something. Preferably not inane. Or cringey.

That thought unfortunately conjured the memory of before he'd gone on vacation, when she'd managed to spill and entire pot of, thankfully, cold soup that had been on its way to being thrown out. On him. She'd managed to spill it, on him. Then she'd gone back to the larder to get some more...something...and walked in on Fili mid shirt change.

"Sorry," he'd said, with a low swear as she'd stumbled to a stop. "The only other place is the bathroom, and I didn't think patrons seeing the restaurant's maître d changing would be that professional."

Bilba was pretty sure the sight of him without a shirt on would cause a minor health crisis, but it would probably have not been the most professional thing to say.

Her eyes seemed to superglue themselves to his chest and, as much as her mind screamed at her, they were determined to stay just where they were.

Look away, Bilba's voice had screamed at her as her eyes had laser focused on his chest. Look away! Or better yet, leave!

She'd done neither, because she was a walking HR complaint, and he'd cleared his throat and slowly pulled his shirt closed.

"Do you need something?" he'd asked and it had taken a lot for her not to tell him that, yes, she needed him to take his damn shirt back off.

Bilba groaned as the memory faded, along with Fili's footsteps as he walked away from the closed door.

She was a terrible boss. She wasn't her parents, or her grandparents before them. She had no training in how to run a restaurant, manage payroll, balance books or anything. Gandalf had helped her as he could, but he had his own business to run. He'd recommended she hire a new team after the old one had up and quit but she'd been hesitant to try. She literally knew nothing. If she chose the wrong people, they could literally destroy Shire, run it into the ground, steal it out from under her and she'd never known until it was too late.

Still...she chewed on her lower lip absently.

Gandalf had recommended Fili and, in the short time he'd been there, he'd been a godsend. Okay, he also looked like a god, which was not helping her heartrate or her supplies budget but, really, he'd taken such a massive burden off her just in the jobs he'd taken up.

She'd recognized it all over again in the week he'd been gone. When suddenly it was up to her once more and the full, crushing weight, had fallen back on her. She was so tired from it that she'd started crying on three separate occasions for no reason.

She didn't want to go back to that, wasn't sure how she'd done it for a year, and now she found herself desperately wanting to continue on the track she was on. To have less pressure, less work, more ability to sleep, or relax or enjoy...anything that wasn't work related.

She'd been mulling, just a little, about the rest of the Durin family. She remembered the stories, how one of the Durin children had nearly managed to save Arkenstone, would have in fact, had Smaug not swept in and cut it all out from under them. The whole family had been involved in the business, from childhood in most cases, and if even a fraction of them were as talented as Fili was...

She chewed on her lower lip and then opened her email. She'd hesitated to do it while he was gone at his grandfather's funeral, but perhaps now? She might not be able to talk to the man without tripping over herself, but she could at least email him, right?

Hopefully.

Dear Mr. Durin,

She paused. Was that too formal? It was probably too formal.

Dear Fili --

Nope.

Mr. Durin,

She sighed, deleted the email and closed the laptop lid. If she couldn't even figure out a salutation there was no reason to go any further. She crossed her arms and dropped her head on them with a groan. She was freezing cold in spite of knowing the temperature was perfectly temperate in the building, and she felt ill.

She was exhausted, in over her head, and couldn't even speak to her own damn employee.

God, she was pathetic.

***

Fili didn't see Bilba when he arrived for work the next day. The light was still on under the office door, however, and he found himself hoping she hadn't been there since the night before. He had no idea how the girl managed to run the restaurant, work a shift and take care of the rest of her day to day life.

Then the memory of the deep bags under her eyes from the night before hit him and he realized the answer to his question of how she did it was probably simple. She didn't.

As he took up his position behind the front desk he snagged the attention of one of the other servers, an older woman named Carla. "Hey, is it true that Bilba ran the desk while I was out?"

She nodded. "She did it before you were hired too and did a fantastic job of it if I may say so. Only hired you because Gandalf convinced her to get someone before she passed out from exhaustion." She sent a concerned look toward the back office. "Girl takes far too much on her own plate. Her parents had a full staff, but she does it all by herself."

Fili frowned. "What happened to the staff?"

Carla huffed in annoyance. "Most refused to work for someone young and inexperienced, a couple others claimed it was too hard to work here without Belladonna and Bungo, as if it were a piece of cake for Bilba to do it." She shook her head. "Assholes, the lot of them."

Fili found he quite agreed. He settled into his role as the doors opened, and fell into an easy rhythm, one that wasn't interrupted until the sound of shattering glass from the bar signified Bilba had left her office.

A hand patted his and he raised an eyebrow at the elderly woman he'd been checking in. She was one of their regulars, coming in almost every day to simply enjoy the company of others. "You know, young man," she said in a voice shaky with age, "you really should do that poor girl a favor and take her out already."

Fili's eyebrow arched higher. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman nodded toward the bar. "Poor thing only gets shaky when you're around, you know." She patted his hand and winked at him from under her hat. "She's a good girl. Not like those hooligans that live across the street from me with their loud music."

She nodded again and wandered past him. Her companion, a man a few years older than Fili's uncle, smiled after her with affection. "Don't mind, Mother. She likes to play matchmaker from time to time is all."

Fili chuckled. "I don't mind at all, Sir. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your seats."

The man nodded, and Fili led them to their table. As he returned to his desk he hesitated, and then deliberately veered toward the bar where Bilba was picking up a tray. It was ridiculous, he thought. She didn't get nervous simply because --

Bilba glanced up, spotted him and proceeded to drop the drink she'd been picking up. It hit the tray, which caused the other three drink to fall and crash onto the bar, liquid flooding the top and leaking down the sides to the floor below.

Huh.

***

Bilba sat on a stool at the bar, head resting on her folded arms. She was in that state halfway between being asleep and awake where her body was heavy, and she felt like she had a bad case of the flu. The restaurant had closed a half ago earlier but the thought of trying to go home, or even just to her office to get started on paperwork was excruciating.

An arm slid around her waist suddenly, and she looked up with a frown just in time to see Fili as he slid an arm under her legs and proceeded to lift her straight up off the chair.

Bilba wrapped her arms loosely around his neck without thinking and shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. She was so damn tired. "What an odd dream," she mumbled. She relaxed against him and shut her eyes again. She was dimly aware of being carried, and then settled into the seat of a car. "Noooo," she whined, reaching out. "I have to do payroll."

He knelt, one hand on the open door and the other on the edge of her seat. "You need sleep. You try to do payroll now and you're likely to pay everyone in Monopoly money."

Bilba giggled at the absurd mental image, and then groaned as her head began to pound. "I feel awful."

"Because you push yourself too hard." He stood up and shut the door. Through slitted eyes, Bilba watched him walk around the front of the car, her car, and slide into the driver's seat.

"Are you kidnapping me?" she asked suspiciously.

He chuckled, a low rumble, and then turned the key in the ignition, sending the engine roaring to life. "I'm taking you home." He grinned at her. "It's my job to ensure everyone has a pleasant experience at Shire, and that includes my boss."

Bilba grumbled and sank back into the seat, noting absently he'd somehow managed to buckle her in without her noticing. "I'm a sucky boss."

To her horror, her vision blurred, and she shook her head, trying to dispel them the threatening tears. She wasn't usually a crier. It's just a dream, she told herself. Figures she'd managed to screw things up with him in a dream.

"You're not screwing anything up," Fili said as they pulled onto the road. "You're too hard on yourself."

Bilba frowned at him. "Since when can you read minds?"

He chuckled. "You're talking out loud."

"I am not," Bilba grumbled. She sagged back in her seat. "I don't even know how to do payroll."

Fili's eyes flickered toward her, surprised. "Then how have you been doing it so far?"

"Google." Bilba raised a hand to wave through the air. "Google knows all."

"That it does." Fili focused on the road for a few minutes. "I might know someone who could help you in that."

"I'm sure you do." Bilba tried to focus on the road in front of them but it shifted in and out of focus. "I don't know anything about restaurants," she blurted. A few tears escaped on their own and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. She felt cold and shaky and, god, but she just wanted to sleep. "I'm such a screw up."

Fili grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You are not a screw up. A screw up wouldn't be able to keep a restaurant like Shire running for as long as you have, knowing as little about the business as you do. You're just overwhelmed."

The walls of her gated community came into view and Bilba wondered idly how he'd known where she lived.

They pulled up to the gate, and a light shined on them as the guard inside stepped closer.

"Miss Baggins, are you all right?"

"Hi Bard," Bilba managed to mutter. This dream just kept getting weirder. She tried to curl up against the door, but it was next to impossible to get into a comfortable position and, damn it all if that didn't make her want to cry all over again. "I wanna go home now."

She heard a quiet conversation between Bard and Fili and then the guard opened the back door and slid into her car. Apparently, in this dream, she was collecting people like lost puppies.

She heard Fili laugh again but tuned it out in favor of dozing. She was vaguely aware of the car stopping, and then of being carried again. Her house alarm beeped and, when Fili set her on her feet and supported her, she hazily punched in the code to turn it off.

Then she was being carried again and then, blessedly, the sheets of her very own bed were under her. She felt her shoes being tugged off, and then the blankets were drawn over her.

She was sound asleep before they had fully settled.

***

Fili wordlessly followed the guard downstairs again, reset Bilba's alarm and then followed the other man out, locking the door and pulling it closed behind him.

He and Bard walked in silence back to the gatehouse and then Fili headed to the sidewalk just outside the gate pulling his phone out as he did. He dialed, and bit back a grin as a gruff voice answered. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"That I do," Fili leaned against the stone wall, bracing one foot behind him and shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. "I need a ride."

"Why?" his uncle asked, already sounding more awake. "What happened to your car?"

"I had to give my boss a ride home," Fili answered. "I left my car back at Shire."

"Your boss?" Thorin questioned. "This the one you won't shut up about?"

Fili rolled his eyes. "You know she's trying to run Shire completely by herself?"

"She's insane then?" Thorin asked. "Your mother will be thrilled."

"She's not insane," Fili said, defensively. "She's just in over her head. Anyway, I think she might be open to hiring some more people. You know, people with actual restaurant experience. Managerial, bookkeeping, so forth."

"You talk to her about it?" Thorin asked.

As he did, Fili heard him grunt and swear under his breath as he struggled to get dressed and, most likely, find his shoes. He was always throwing them every which way and taking forever to locate them again. After a minute the phone call cut off entirely as his uncle hung up in frustration. Fili slid the phone into his pocket and leaned back against the wall to wait for the other man to arrive.

"No, he whispered, to no one in particular. "I haven't talked to her about it."

Not yet anyway, but he planned too. Maybe tomorrow, over a cup of coffee if she was willing.

Plastic cups of coffee.

Definitely plastic, and with a lid.

#Writing Wednesday #My Writing #Prompts #Fanfiction #The Hobbit #AU #Restaurant #Female Bilbo #Bilbo/Fili

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