You have to have a job to make money. You have to have money to go to Europe. You have to have a job to make money. You have to -
Robin keeps telling herself this.
She repeats it when she's cold. She repeats it when her feet hurt. She repeats it when the nautical music playing over the speaker starts permeating her dreams. She repeats it incredibly hard when she goes into the back of Scoops Ahoy for her lunch break and five minutes into it -
Her food isn't even finished heating up in the microwave, "Iām on br-"
"I need you to cover," Steve says, not even stopping in his stride across the room and out the back into the hallway.
She almost doesn't. She almost sits her ass down and eats her lunch but, "You need to have a job to make money. You need money to go to Europe."
She abandons her lunch and walks to the front. Her frown twists in disgust, "What can I get you?"
"Not gonna take me for a sail on an ocean of flavor, sweetheart?"
Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow and states, "You're smudging the glass, Hargrove. What do you want?"
"Where'd Harrington scurry off to?"
"I recommend USS Butterscotch," She states. "It's a big hit with Neanderthals."
"We don't allow loitering," She talks over him. "If you're not ordering than you need to leave before I have to call mall security. You don't want that because Greg - the mall security officer - he hates being called because the, you know. Lack of air conditioning. Puts him in a bad mood and-
"Okay," Billy says, already annoyed by her yapping. She keeps talking until, "Okay! Iām leaving. Tell Harrington that I'll see him around."
Her eyes dart around the mostly-empty shop and then she pushes off the counter. She goes into the back, past her lunch cooling in the microwave, through the door.
She doesn't have to go far to find Steve.
He's sitting on the ground with his elbows rested on his knees. His hands in his hair. He's breathing in a familiar way, measured and intentional.
Robin slides down the wall beside him.
She chews on her bottom lip and thinks to say something but - they're not really friends. They're barely coworkers. They started two weeks ago so...
"Hargrove," Steve clarifies to the wall in front of them. "Last year with, you know. The fight. He was. Yeah, he probably would've killed me if - and."
He tugs on his hair, takes a deep breath, "He's such a dick. I hate dealing with him."
Robin watches Steve stand up. She watches him brush off his clothes and say like nothing bad has ever happened, "Thanks for covering. I owe you one, Buckley."
