Chapter Text
Stanley had seen this same set up a hundred times before.
A young woman, sitting alone at the bar looking like a sad, rejected puppy, obviously looking for something more than a shitty place like this could provide. You stood out like a sore thumb, honestly. Everyone else was drinking their sorrows or paychecks away, getting up close and personal with each other, and just trying to get through their miserable lives one drink at a time. In the past, girls like you would eventually be hit on by a guy who smelt like one part expired menthol and two part old axe body spray. They would hit it off and move to the dance floor, before making their way out not long after. The whole scenario took about two hours tops, a quick in and out and becoming a show for Stanley to scoff at.
But you were different.
It was a weeknight, so it made sense that the amount of potential Prince Charmings were greatly decreased, but even then you never even looked their way. You were too busy staring at something else. And for some reason that something else was Stanley herself.
At first she thought you had recognized her, either from one of her failed ads or her years on the road, but you just kept… staring. You weren’t mumbling to yourself as if you were trying to decipher where you knew her from. Instead, you stared at her with an almost blank expression while bouncing your knee and biting your lip anxiously every once in a while.
She tried to ignore you, instead focusing on her cheap whiskey and chasing a high she hadn’t felt in years, but she could feel your eyes bore into the side of her head. Everytime she’d look your way, you’d pretend to be interested in the selection of drinks behind the counter and acting as if you were just trying to figure out your order. But you two had been there for over an hour already, and you already had a half empty can of beer in front of you.
After what felt like an eternity, you stood up looking like you were on the move and confident about your decision to finally say something. Right as you got close, she turned to face you. But for some reason instead of following through, you just continued your path all the way out the door, still looking determined and running on pure adrenaline. Stanley sat there confused and a little dazed, watching you as you left, before turning back to her drink and trying to go on with her night.
As you sat on the cracked curb and cried, you couldn’t help but replay the events of the night.
You had initially set out to meet some new friends in the small town you moved to for graduate school, taking to the small bar - something you had only done once before - in search for the cure to all your woes. Instead, you ordered a cheap beer you couldn’t take more than a few sips of and fantasized about the life you could have with a mysterious (slightly older) woman you had seen who was minding her own business. When you finally worked up the courage to go and introduce yourself to this mystery woman, you chickened out at the last second, your body keeping tempo right on out the door.
In an attempt to get home and away from your failure, you retreat to your car, only to realize that it wouldn’t start no matter how hard you tried. And boy did you try. You spent twenty minutes in the cold night air, begging for your only form of transportation to do its job, but your cries fell on deaf wheels. You could feel the anxiety well up in your throat, so you went to sit on the curb to get some fresh air to calm yourself a bit. Yet you were still spiraling, feeling every mistake of the night pile up and make you regret even thinking about leaving the house in the first place.
You weren’t good in social situations, but for some reason you thought that if you went out tonight everything would change. But it hadn’t, and now you just felt like a sad, pathetic loser who couldn’t even start their own car and were sitting outside of a shitty bar not even feeling a slight buzz. You couldn’t help feeling pitiful and you knew you couldn’t stop the tears without letting them flow first, so you just sat there wallowing in your thoughts for as long as you could.
Around halfway through your pity party, you were startled by a deep voice calling out.
“Hey uh - are you… okay?”
The voice was filled with concern and a hint of frustration, but you couldn’t even force yourself to look at whoever was attached to this line of questioning before blurting out all of your woes of the night.
“I just! I wanted to go out and be a person, you know? I’ve not lived here long and I wanted to feel like moving out here was worth it, maybe make a new friend or two. But I was too much of a coward to reach out to anyone. I even found someone I really, really wanted to talk to but I chickened out and looked like a total weirdo in front of her! Now, my car refuses to start, the beer I was drinking tasted like shit, and I’ve been sitting here so long I can feel the concrete imprinting into my ass!” Each sentence got increasingly more dramatic and even more interrupted by your gasps for air. Once you were finished, you continued to cry loudly, wishing you could shrink into yourself and wither away.
But the universe was cruel and seemed to have a special vendetta against you tonight, as when you finally decided to look up at your unwilling therapist, you were met with the face of the woman you had been thinking about since you got into this whole mess.
She stood over you with a hand behind her loose curls, looking as awkward as you felt, but still somehow being the picture of beauty. Her hair was just barely past her shoulders and falling into a mullet, wearing an old white shirt and a red jacket with various stains on it. You looked into her dark brown eyes and could feel yourself slipping into your earlier fantasies. You closed your own eyes, wondering what they looked like in the early morning sun, staring into a fresh pot of coffee instead of a cheap glass of whiskey. She was broad and had a square jaw, and had plenty of curves to go around and envelop you in her warmth. You imagined her strong arms around you, picking you up and carrying you to her car and far away from all of your troubles. Whispering kind words to you and holding you close to her chest, like you were the most delicate thing on the planet.
Except you didn’t have to imagine, because she really was doing all of that. Well, the non-glamourized version of it all at least.
Snapping you back to reality (literally), she looked into your eyes and said something you couldn’t fully hear, still in your own little world before you asked her to repeat herself.
“I said I wanna take you home.” Your face blushed bright red, but she continued, “I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong with your car tonight but I can make sure you get home safely, if that’s alright with you-”
“Yes!” You cut her off before she could any further, before remembering your manners and continuing with a polite, “Yes, please. That would be amazing. Thank you.” She arches a brow at you, but you try not to appear phased by it. Because in all honesty that look was doing things to you that you weren’t too proud to admit. She huffs out a small laugh before shutting the door and making her way to the driver's side. You watch her as she goes, admiring the way she holds herself. She exudes an air of confidence, sliding back into the car gracefully - and a tiny part of you believes that she’s putting on a show just for you. This fantasy is only exaggerated as she puts the key in the ignition, lighting up the engine and turning around to look out the rear windshield. Her chest is on full display for you when she does this, and you can’t help but sneak a small peek out of the corner of your eye. The heat in your cheeks burns even hotter than before, but she snaps you back to reality with a slight cough.
“So… you wanna guide me there, sweetcheeks? Or are you just gonna stare at my rack all night?” She lets out a full belly laugh after you squeak upon being caught. The smile on her face portrays the first real emotion you’ve seen from her all night. You can’t help but laugh along, feeling a lot of the night's tension rise from your shoulders and you begin guiding her back to your apartment building.
The ride is awkward and a little tense at first, but slowly she starts cracking small jokes here and there at the scenery you two pass by. She begins making up stories for pedestrians as they walk in front of you, pretending to know where they’re going and how their day has been. You try to chime in every once in a while with a story of your own which garners a few laughs from her, but you can’t help but be mesmerized by her and her charisma. Eventually, she pulls up in front of your building, but neither of you make a move. You realize you’ve been rubbing circles into your knee. You catch her staring but you decide not to say anything about it, filing it away for later.
Finally, you pipe up again, “Thank you - for everything. I’m sorry I kind of dumped everything on you and then became deadweight. I guess I got in my own head a bit too much, but I really am grateful for all of your help. Is there… anything I can do to repay you? Maybe gas money, or I can buy you a drink one night if you want?” You’re totally not trying to set up the chance to see her again. Nope. Just trying to repay a debt - and maybe see her smile one last time.
“Nah, don’t worry about it, toots. You ain’t the first pretty girl I’ve taken home after a bad night, so there’s really no need. Plus I uh- I don’t really live in town. I live in the next town over but the drinks are cheaper here and it gets me out. I’m also starting a new business soon, so I can’t really come out here too often.”
“Wait, you're a business owner?”, your eyes light up again, “What do you do? Do you own a building?” You gasp before loudly whispering to her, “Are you secretly a billionaire? I promise I won’t tell anyone!”.
“Yeesh, calm down kid. I wish but no. I uh… inherited a bunch of spooky science stuff so I’ve decided to start putting on some tours to earn a bit of cash. I call it: The Murder Hut!” She holds her hands out like she’s showing you something amazing, obviously proud of her little start up. You know being in a car with someone who just admitted to running something with ‘murder’ in the name is the worst idea ever, but for some reason you just laugh.
Her mood changes a slight bit, keeping the charisma but adding a slight question to her tone, “I could even give you a tour, if you wanted. It would be on the house - a Stan Pines Special! All for you, toots.” With that, you realize that you two hadn’t even properly introduced yourselves. You had acted like you knew her your whole life when you didn’t even know each others names. So, you make the bold move to give it to her.
“Huh?”
“That’s my name, I realized we never really exchanged them, so I thought now would be a good time.” She says it herself, rolling it around and trying it out on her tongue, and you have never heard someone say your name with that kind of intrigue before. Before you can speak, she starts up a new conversation. “So… it’s getting pretty late, I guess I should walk you to your door? Just to make sure you get there safe and sound, of course.” She shoots you a little wink and a smile, and you melt a little more before agreeing.
“Great! Don’t move.” Before you can respond, she’s out of the car and running around to your side. She props the door open, and with a bow she is reaching for your hand. You take it, thanking her again. She tries to play it off, but you insist, this time with more sincerity in your voice, and you can see her blush.
She walks with you side by side, keeping her hands in her pockets and not saying anything, standing back as you grab your key to unlock your door. You don’t see her staring at your ass whilst you’re turned away, but she gets a good enough look before you whip back around.
“I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but thank you again, Stan. I would like to see you again at some point, so uh… wait here and I’ll write down my number?” She nods and you quickly run inside, leaving the door open. You scribble it down on a napkin along with your name and a tiny heart before rushing back and handing it over to her. She looks down at it and chuckles to herself, before pulling out her wallet and sticking it inside.
“Thanks toots. I’ll give you a ring in a couple days when I’m free and your cars fixed, and you can come on down to my place.”
You nod and step inside your apartment. Before you close the door however, you blow her a quick kiss before shutting it behind you in record time. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and you feel stupid for doing it, but you don’t regret it. She stands outside for a moment more, in a state of shock herself, before loosening up and whistling a tune, beginning the walk back to her car to start the drive home.