Chapter Text
It’s a Friday night in downtown DC; for Josie Saltzman, this means a busy bar, endless tables of increasingly drunk twenty-somethings to serve, and not breathing until at least the early morning as she pretends that ensuring other people have a good night is just how she likes to spend her weekend.
It’s not that Josie hates her job. Quite the opposite, actually. For all the shit that comes with being a waitress at a dive bar, there comes the fun side, too. Customers are usually easy-going, the live music is great, and tips are generous. She gets to work with her best friend, MG, and the majority of her co-workers are great.
All but one, that is. And that ‘one’ just happens to be the bartender that Josie is most often stuck closing with.
And you see, Josie has never disliked many people in her life. But she thinks Penelope Park might have been put on this Earth purely to make up for that.
“I need Table 24’s drinks.” Josie huffs, dropping her serving tray onto the bar-top.
Penelope glances up for only a moment, grabbing the ticket that must belong to Table 24 and waving it at Josie, “They’re coming.” She says flippantly, and then she turns back to the excited group of punters across the bar from her, “Another round, boys?”
Josie’s temper rises as the group eagerly agrees and Penelope starts lining up shot glasses, “It’s a beer and a water, Penelope. It literally takes a second and they’ve been waiting ten minutes.”
“And I’m sure they can wait a bit longer.” Penelope smiles falsely over at Josie, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the well in front of her and leaning over the bar to pour the line of shots – definitely providing the customers a more generous view of her cleavage than necessary, “They’ll probably be nursing that one beer for the rest of the night, anyway.”
“Can you please just do your job?”
Penelope laughs, pocketing the cash one of the men places on the bar top as he and his friends begin divvying out their shots. Unsurprisingly, Penelope takes one for herself, “What do you think I'm doing, Princess?”
Josie glares at her as Penelope tosses back the shot, “You’re impossible.” she walks behind the bar, Penelope looking over her shoulder with a frown as Josie begins to get the order herself.
“I’m sorry, are you a bartender now?” Penelope sounds annoyed, which makes Josie the slightest bit happier.
Josie finishes pouring the beer, placing it and the glass of water on her tray, “Well one of us has to be.”
She storms off before Penelope can get another word in – something Josie’s had to learn to do simply so that she actually gets her job done instead of fighting with Penelope all shift. Usually, she tries her best to get her tickets to whatever other bartender is working, but it’s always only a matter of time until Penelope does something bait her into an argument.
Tonight, they’re closing together again, and when the end of shift grows nearer, Penelope is taking shots with a fresh group of customers like she plans to keep them here until dawn.
And sure, Penelope’s antics bring customers in; what twenty-something doesn’t love a hot bartender who’s willing to flirt and drink with you all night? Josie just wishes she could do so with even the slightest measure of responsibility. Although apparently their manager couldn’t give less of a shit about how Penelope conducts herself, so long as profits continue to spike on the nights she’s bartending.
“Last call, Penelope.” Josie warns as she carries a tray of dirty glasses behind the bar; tonight, she accepted defeat earlier than usual - around when Penelope started arranging body shots on the bar top.
Penelope doesn’t even look at her, just drawls out a, “I heard you the first time, Mom.” Back before she returns to flirting with the group across from her.
Josie rolls her eyes, beginning to load the glasses into the pressure washer under the bar. The band has gone by now, along with the other bartender, the rest of the serving staff having left when kitchen closed an hour ago. MG, who has also finished his shift, sits perched on the other side of the bar, a drink in hand and keeping Josie company with idle conversation while she makes work for herself until closing time.
“So, who do you think’s won The Bachelorette tonight?” MG says, grinning over at where Penelope is laughing exaggeratedly at something one of her admirers has said.
Josie rolls her eyes at the scene, returning to her task, “I honestly couldn’t care less.”
How MG is friends with the both of them, she’ll never understand.
“Man, I need to up my game.” MG sighs, “You think she’d teach me how she does it?”
“Please don’t take dating advice from Penelope Park.”
MG shrugs, “Whatever she’s doing, it works.”
Josie doesn’t respond to that, just scowls over at Penelope and starts polishing glasses.
It’s a while before the final customers leave the bar; despite their last drinks being long finished, they linger in pursuit of further flirtations with Penelope. When Josie’s about to end their fun herself, Penelope finally encourages them to head on their way.
“You know last call is supposed to mean they leave after their last drinks, right?” Josie comments irritably when the door shuts behind the last patron.
Penelope shrugs, completely unapologetic , “It’s called being a good host.”
“Don’t you think it’s kind of selfish to hold your co-workers up just so you can keep flirting?”
"Oh, no, am I keeping you from your Glee marathon back home?"
"I don't watch Glee-"
"What, is it too much fun for you?"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"You tell me–"
MG groans, "Are you guys really about to argue about Glee now?"
Penelope grins over at MG, then looks back to Josie, "Like twenty-minutes really changes things when it’s this late.”
"That's not the point." Josie bites out.
“If you’re that desperate to go, be my guest. I can close up by myself. Finishing my night without a headache actually sounds nice.”
Josie sends Penelope a glare, to which Penelope only responds with a scowl.
“On that note, I’m out.” MG declares, finishing the last drop of his beer and letting out a satisfied sigh, “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Aw, come on, MG.” Penelope pouts, “Stay. Have a drink with me when we’re done.”
MG laughs, “With how long you two have before this place is cleaned? I’ll pass.” He shoots his beer bottle into the bin behind the bar, “Try not to kill each other, yeah?”
“No promises.” Josie mutters, and she offers MG a small wave before he goes.
The one good thing about Penelope, is that when she does work, she and Josie work well together. They’re usually able to get out of the bar quickly after close, and without having to step on one another’s toes trying to do such.
Penelope blasts music and they work in silence, Penelope cleaning the bar while Josie gets to work on the floor.
Nearly an hour later, Josie’s sat at the bar, settling up the float and the takings from the night, when Penelope finishes her own share of the tasks. She glances over to where Penelope is crouching down to open one of the fridges; her shirt rides up, and Josie’s eyes linger on the bare skin of her back, on the hint of the ending of a tattoo that, under the shirt, continues up Penelope’s spine. Something stirs in Josie that she’s trying to learn to ignore, and she snaps her gaze back to the money in front of her when Penelope stands up.
“Almost done?” Penelope asks, oblivious as she walks back around the bar.
Josie doesn’t look at her, “You can leave, if you want.” She mutters out, layering her words with annoyance.
Penelope provides an answer in the uncapping of her beer, and Josie can see her approaching out of the corner of her eye. She ignores when Penelope comes to stand at her side; but she fails not to stiffen at how unnecessarily close Penelope is, leaning against the bar-top and sipping from her beer as she watches Josie, her silence somehow deafening.
Josie makes a point of finishing counting the bills in front of her before she gives in and obliges Penelope with eye contact, “What?” she snaps.
A smirk tugs at Penelope’s lips, but she says nothing.
Then she places a pile of cash in front of Josie.
Josie looks at it, eyes narrowing, “What’s that?” she says apprehensively, sure whatever Penelope’s game is, she won’t like it.
“The tips I made while I apparently wasn’t doing my job tonight.” She says, “How’d you go with Table 24?”
“Let’s not pretend you made that for being a good bartender.”
Penelope scoffs, “It’s the service industry. Being good with people is kind of part of the job.”
“Right. And I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that you give out your number with every drink.”
“Not every drink, JoJo. I do have standards.”
Josie rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the takings book in front of her.
“My point is,” Penelope continues anyway – because apparently, she can’t get enough of the sound of her own voice, “We’re working minimum wage. No one’s handing out medals for how fast you serve your guests their free water.” She drawls, “It doesn’t hurt to be smart about who you prioritise.”
Josie finishes off the takings record just in time to get herself away from Penelope’s imposing presence, pushing her seat out from the bar and brushing forcefully past her, “Can’t you go and annoy one of those customers you spend the night flirting with?” she throws over her shoulder as she walks behind the bar to where the safe is stowed, “I’m sure they’d appreciate your company.”
She crouches down, tosses the takings bag and book into the safe and locks the door behind it, hearing Penelope’s laugh.
“I’m sure they would.” Penelope says.
Josie rises and of course, Penelope is already looking at her, sat on a bar stool and fingers tapping against the beer bottle in her hand, wearing a knowing expression that feels unsettlingly invasive. Josie doesn’t give her the pleasure of biting at the bait – she glares back at Penelope, and she’s faced with a stalemate that is becoming all too habitual now.
“Do you want me to leave?” Penelope prompts eventually.
And Josie should be capable of saying yes to that.
Three months ago, she would have. But three months ago, she hadn’t drunkenly fallen into bed with the girl at a work party. Three months ago, she hadn’t continued doing so against all of her better judgment.
“I want you to shut-up for once in your life.” she says as she rounds the bar once more.
Penelope turns on the barstool, eyes following Josie.
And Josie doesn’t even understand how she’s fallen into this trap. Because she truly can’t stand Penelope. Honestly hates her. Yet here Josie is, anyway, feet betraying her and carrying her towards Penelope.
Penelope tilts her head, amused as ever as Josie comes to a stop in front of her. This time, she’s the one breaching personal space, her thighs pressing against Penelope’s knees.
“Well if that’s what you want,” Penelope’s eyes drag down Josie’s body, taking their time in meeting her gaze again, “Why don’t you make me?”
Penelope barely even looks fazed by Josie’s presence, expression cool as she takes a swig from the bottle in her hand, green eyes remaining on Josie’s. She’s so arrogant – a trait their customers seem to fall over themselves for – a trait Josie can’t stand. Josie takes the bottle from Penelope’s hand, placing it on the bar top behind her.
“If you’re going to deprive me of a drink at least–”
Josie’s hand captures Penelope’s jaw and she leans down to seize her lips in a kiss; hard and harsh, swallowing the gasp Penelope lets out as she presses forward. Penelope’s hand finds the back of Josie’s neck, her body curving into Josie’s as she’s pressed back against the bar.
And Penelope is kissing her back and Josie can feel the smirk on her lips, and Josie can’t stand her arrogant, selfish co-worker but God, she’s a good kisser.
"I still hate you." Josie breathes out against Penelope's lips, all while Penelope's hands make work of the buttons of her jeans.
Penelope laughs, kisses her like she's trying to leave a mark, "The feeling's mutual, Princess." her hand dips beneath the waist of Josie's jeans, teeth dig into Josie's bottom lip.
And Josie can't find many more words after that.