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The bathroom smelled like beer and lemon sanitiser, and the fluorescent light flickered as if it were trying to quit its job.
Dee pushes open the door slowly. It had been more than twenty minutes since she’d last seen the Waitress, and although she'd never admit it out loud, she was starting to worry. She had disappeared mid-game without saying a word, and Dee couldn't help but wonder where she had gone.
It was kinda nice, actually. Getting away from those sociopaths she called friends, the inner circle of co-dependence and despair, and having a little girl time. Sipping cocktails, laughing and gossiping with the girls. With the Waitress.
Every now and then, she enjoyed pretending she was normal. “Hey. You in here?” She opens the bathroom door and takes a look around. No one in sight and no answer.
And then - a soft, wrecked sob from the last stall. Dee clenched her teeth together in stress. She wasn't good at this, at the whole comforting people thing. At real feelings and emotions. But when another soft sob escaped from the last stall, she couldn't help but walk over and press her head against the door.
Another sob. It felt like a punch to Dee's gut. "Hey. It's me. Open. up." Silence. "Waitress?" There was no answer, just soft sobs. "Come on. It’s not like I haven’t seen you blackout drunk and sobbing in worse places. Remember that flight? You were gone after barely, like, twelve beers. Open up.”
Still nothing, and just as Dee was about to call it a day and head back, finally: Click. The lock turned, the door creaked open, and there she was. On the floor, knees clutching to her chest, mascara smudged, her entire body shaking with every sob. Her eyes were puffy - her whole face was, actually, as if she finally lost it and couldn't pretend otherwise anymore.
Dee slid down the wall next to her until they were on the same level again.
“I just didn’t think he’d be here,” Waitress mumbled.
Dee has to think about it for a second. “Charlie?” she asked. Waitress didn’t answer—just sniffled and wiped her nose. "Of course he would be. Men ruin everything." The floor was cold, and Dee found herself pulling closer to the Waitress until their bodies were touching. For purely practical reasons, of course, preserving body temperature and all.
It felt cosy in there. As cosy as a piss-stenched bathroom stall in a bowling alley can get.
“He was helping some cute girl tie her shoes,” the Waitress says quietly, sniffing. “He wasn't even looking at me. And it just got me feeling like... The only person who wanted me doesn't even want me anymore. I'm such a mess.”
Dee tries not to laugh. “Are we still talking about Charlie? The creepy stalker? You don't need anyone's approval. Especially not his.” Waitress shot her a look but chuckled.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” Waitress said. “I don't even want him anymore. He’s disgusting. He’s objectively disgusting. But still, there he is, playing house with some new girl like I never even mattered. Like I never existed.”
Dee stared at her a beat longer than she should have. “Okay, but like… you’re way hotter than Bowling Alley Bitch.”
Waitress laughed once—sharp and bitter. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t matter. I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”
“You’re seriously gonna say that?” Dee asked, eyebrows up. “Have you seen yourself?”
Waitress rolled her eyes.
“No, I mean it,” Dee said, her tone shifting. “You’re hot. You’re smart—okay, not Dennis-smart, but smarter than, like, Frank. And Mac. You're definitely smarter than Mac. And you care about things, which is—frankly—alarming. But also… kind of nice.”
Waitress gave her a crooked smile. “So who would want me?”
Dee hesitated. The beer and crack combo in her bloodstream made everything fuzzy and sharp all at once. Her mouth worked before her brain could hit the brakes. “I would.”
Waitress blinked. “You’re joking. You're just saying that”
“I’m not,” Dee said. Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “I always thought you were kind of hot. I just figured you’d laugh in my face or slap me or throw a drink or some combination.” Waitress didn’t speak. Her eyes flicked up, met Dee’s. Something shifted there—softened.
And then Dee leaned in.It was tentative. Experimental. Waitress didn’t pull away, but leaned in too.
The kiss started off soft, curious. But then it twisted—needier, hungrier. Like they’d both been waiting too long to let it happen. Dee’s fingers found the Waitress’s hair. Their knees bumped. Waitress moaned softly into Dee’s mouth when Dee pushed a thigh between hers, and it made Dee throb.
And then there was no going back. Waitress pulled her closer, the kiss deepening fast. Desperate. Clothes tugging, hands shaky but touching each other. Dee broke the kiss long enough to look her in the eyes. “You sure?” she asked.
Waitress nodded, breathless. “God, yes.” Dee’s hand slid down, unbuttoning Waitress’s jeans in one motion and finding their way inside her panties. “God, it’s been so long—” she moaned, voice breaking mid-sentence.
Dee licked her own fingers and didn’t waste time - she was quick, practised, enjoying seeing the Waitress falling apart like this in a twisted way, at her mercy, back arching against the wall as she played with her clit. Waitress gasped, her back hitting the stall wall hard enough to rattle the door.
She pushed inside, rhythm steady, palm catching against her clit with every thrust. Waitress’s hips bucked. She choked out a moan, Dee's other hand clamping over her mouth to keep from screaming.
It didn’t take long. Her body shook, legs trembling around Dee’s hand, and she came hard—face buried in Dee’s shoulder, gripping her wrist like she was afraid she might vanish.
And then, for a long moment, the only sound in the stall was their breathing. Eventually, Dee slid down to sit beside her. Waitress collapsed against her side, head on her shoulder.
Neither of them spoke for a while. They just sat there, surrounded by stained tiles and the muffled thrum of pins crashing outside. Finally - “You okay?” Dee asked.
Waitress nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I am.”
They helped each other clean up—shaky hands fixing eyeliner with half-damp toilet paper, adjusting their clothes, laughing a little at how ridiculous it all was. They stayed like that, tangled up on the sticky bathroom floor, both of them trying to catch their breath like they’d just sprinted a mile instead of—
Well. They had sprinted somewhere. Emotionally, physically, spiritually, maybe cosmically. Dee wasn’t exactly known for her depth, but even she could tell that something had cracked open between them.
Waitress shifted beside her, exhaling slow. Her forehead pressed into the space between Dee’s collarbone and shoulder, skin warm and still a little damp with sweat.
Dee stayed quiet at first, one hand lazily running along the Waitress’s back, not even thinking about it—just a motion to say I’m here. I’m not leaving yet. Then, almost without realising it, she tilted her head down and pressed a kiss to the top of Waitress’s head. Then another. And another.
Waitress let out a shaky laugh. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
Dee shrugged. “I want to.” Pause. “I think. I’m not… good at this part,” Dee murmured. “The after part.”
“Neither am I,” The Waitress said honestly.
“Usually I try to make a joke and they leave through the window.” Dee added. That got a real laugh. Soft, but real.
“Well, I’m not gonna do that,” The Waitress said. Dee adjusted, letting Waitress curl into her more fully, arms wrapped tight now, like maybe she was finally allowed to hold someone without screwing it up.
“You’re not a mess,” Dee said suddenly, voice low. The Waitress shifted a little, looked up at her. “You said that before. That you’re a mess. But you’re not. Or—okay, you are, but not in the way you think. You’re human. You feel stuff. That’s… actually kind of rare around here.”
Waitress didn’t answer right away. Just nestled back into Dee’s arms. “Thanks,” she whispered eventually. “For coming to find me.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Dee said, almost instinctively. Then softer, more honest. “Okay, fine, I did.” For a while, they stayed like that. No talking. No pressure. Just holding. Dee pressed one more kiss to the top of her head.
“I could get used to this,” Waitress murmured.
Dee smiled against her shoulder. “Don’t ruin it,” she said. But she didn’t pull away.
Waitress caught her own reflection in the mirror and snorted. “This might be the healthiest interaction I’ve had in years.”
Dee smiled at her. A real one this time. “You ready to go back out there?” Dee asked.
“Not even a little bit. But yeah.”
They pushed open the door together.
The bowling alley hit them like a punch of light and noise. Mac was trying to juggle bowling balls. Dennis was deep in a monologue about pheromones to a woman who was clearly just trying to eat her nachos. Frank had somehow found a hot dog.
“Hey!” Frank called. “Where’ve you two been?”
Dee grinned, arm still brushing against the Waitress’s. “Just girl stuff.”