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The morning greeted her with less pain in the legs but more in the head. A headache had taken up residence, likely due to the dreams she'd been having. In one, Bruce didn't make it to the party room in time and she'd been forced to dance while the lemurs - they'd _all_been lemurs in the dream - took turns throwing things at her, calling her fat, and chanting the childish things she'd heard growing up. She didn't recall waking up but, at some point in the night, she'd acquired a damp washcloth and glass of water - both of which she found on the box beside the bed.

The second dream had involved Tiffany intervening on her behalf and...it hadn't been pleasant. The amount of blood and gore was copious and the imagery of everything had left her shaken and confused. She wondered how her imagination ever came up with that scene, especially since how Tiffany had acted was so contrary to how Sylvie knew her. Her sleep after that hadn't been trouble-free, given how she was feeling, but at least it wasn't as graphic.

A few pills taken with breakfast helped to take off the edge but the dull ache was still there. She tried watching something on her computer but couldn't focus and knew reading would certainly be out of the question. With the way her stomach was turning, she didn't trust herself to go out and, instead, settled for going back to bed.

I hope I'm not coming down with something, she thought as she began to drift off.

Waking later was a much better experience - her headache was gone and her stomach stable. The position of the sun was telling her it was time to begin getting ready for work even if her alarm was silent. Casting her feet over the edge of the bed, she allowed a shiver to accompany the stretch as it passed through her body and tail. Tossing off her clothes, she went to the bathroom and took her time in the shower.

She found, and slipped into, a different pair of jeans and squeezed herself into one of her usual bras. Unlike the previous two days, she had time to style her tail and teased the white into flower blooms while the black served as their stems. Feeling rather pleased with the results, she donned a plain purple t-shirt and gathered her things to go wait for the bus.

The wind had picked up and the clouds were rolling across the increasingly sunless sky. Usually she waited outside the shelter of the bus stop in deference to the other riders but the sprinkling rain said tonight would be otherwise. Thankfully, there were only a few other people waiting for the bus and none seemed to care much she was skunk; at least, they didn't make their disgust apparent if they did.

Once on the bus, she put in her ear buds and watched as the city was washed by Mother Nature. On one hand, it was nice to see the grime flowing its way into the gutters; the trash left behind, however, was a sad reminder of urban life. Maybe one day she would be able to move out of town, though she would never go home again if she had any choice in the matter. That did get her thinking about the rent, however, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that even after two nights of work she was better than half-way. As she neared her stop, she was amazed to find out how much of a burden that had lifted from her and actually felt lighter in her step.

"Ma'am?" the bus driver said as Sylvie prepared to descend the steps. "I've seen you get off here the past couple days. I just wanted to let you know if you take the bus home after midnight, the city's redone the schedule for late night runs. You might want to check it out."

"Thank you," Sylvie said, making it a point to do so. "I appreciate it."

The driver smiled back. "Not a problem. Have a good night."

The rain seemed to have slackened just enough that Sylvie made it to _High Tails_without getting soaked. Tonight, Synthia opened the door without comment or hostility and Sylvie seriously debated asking her if she was feeling alright.

"Thank you," she said, seemingly surprising the serval who, then, proceeded to adopt the disagreeableness for which she was known. Nevertheless, Sylvie gave her a smile and proceeded down the hall. She paused long enough to peek her head into the dressing room and greet the dancers before finding Mary behind the bar rolling silverware.

"We get to do this bit of fun every Tuesday and Friday," she said, though her tone didn't indicate she minded it terribly. "Put your stuff away and get something to drink and grab a tub. We need to get as much of this done as we can before the club opens unless you want to stay late tonight."

That made Sylvie remember what the bus driver had said. "Alright," she said and went to stow her bag and pour a Dr. Pepper. She checked her phone for the schedule and saw, yes, the route had been changed. Instead of pickups every half-hour, they had been changed to every hour, though it would be a more direct route. The image of the ?eytan Melekleri while she waited for the bus came to mind and she wondered where these troubling thought were coming from.

"I'm sure you've seen this any number of times," Mary said, looking up at her, "but you stack a spoon on a fork on a knife and roll it up. Simple." She watched as Sylvie did one of her own without issue. "Very good. I should also tell you it gets a bit repetitive."

"How many do we need to do?" Sylvie asked, gathering a pile of utensils and napkins.

"A few thousand," Mary said, grinning as Sylvie stared at her in surprise. "A couple hundred," she answered more honestly. "But if we could get a thousand it would certainly make Friday night easier."

"Well," Sylvie said, "then what are we waiting for?"

She and Mary made a significant dent in the tubs before the first customer walked through the door.

"That'll be it for the time being," Mary said, gathering up the utensils they still hadn't wrapped.

"We could do it in between customers." Sylvie finished her set and placed it in the tub with the other finished ones.

"We can try but the rain tends to bring people in - less for them to do outside."

Mary was correct. After the first customer walked in, seeing Rachael seating people was a constant affair, just as dodging around her became necessary as she talked to the customer's instead of watching where she was going. While the prospect of wrapping more silverware was so alluring, it was evident nothing more was going to get done during business hours.

The work was physical, with a lot of walking, but Sylvie found meeting new people to be unexpectedly exhilarating. They came from all walks of life, of all income levels. Only a few times did someone seem to mind her species but she ignored it as best she could and served everyone to the best of her abilities. It was Will's night to work and, as much as she would have liked to ask him further about his cross dressing, he was just as busy as she and Mary with cleaning the tables so Rachael could seat the small crowd waiting at the entrance.

Even as closing time approached and the customers started to thin, Sylvie kept in her groove and helped Will clean up to maintain her pace. It was only when the last customer was gone that she realized she hadn't taken a break all night. She felt fatigued, sure, but it was a good kind of fatigue and it felt nice to be able to put in some honest work. Mary came around and got the tips Sylvie had collected to divvy them up while she moved the chairs so Will could sweep beneath the tables.

"Here you go," Mary said, holding out a stack of bills much like the other night.

Sylvie put down the drink she was holding and took a cursory look. "Seriously?"

"I told you we'd be busy," Mary said with a smile.

"Did you save anything back for Will?"

"Yes. I always try to include him if he's here. I added a bit for his help last night."

Sylvie nodded. "Ready to get back to wrapping silverware?" She was only half-joking but Mary laughed and shook her head.

"It's too late for me. It's you young people who own the night." She nodded toward the kitchen. "Nathan mentioned something about wanting to see you when you got a minute and I think Firgil wants to see you upstairs after that. As for me, I'm going home."

"I don't blame you. Thank you and have a good night."

"You as well."

Sylvie made her way to the kitchen not exactly thinking something was wrong but wondering why Nathan was wanting to see her. Maybe he has something tasty for me to try, she thought. She'd told him earlier she was wanting a wrap of some sort for after work but would willingly be his test subject if what he'd prepared the past couple of nights was any indication.

The newt, seeing her arrival at the window, gave her a large smile and wiped his hands on the back of Roger's apron, earning a derisive look from the raccoon. He nodded to the door and was coming out by the time Sylvie made it over there.

"Mary said you were wanting to see me."

"Yes. Let's sit down over here and get out your order pad." She followed him to a nearby table and sat down next to him. "You're doing great for never having done this before."

"How do you know I haven't done this before?" She was trying to act sly but was truly interested in knowing.

"I can tell by how you write." He laughed at the look on her face. "You have lovely handwriting, Sylvie, but you need to learn restaurant shorthand."

"Restaurant shorthand?" She'd never heard of such a thing.

"Sure. Let me show you. Write down this order: chicken salad with onions, a side of french fries with bacon, and a small Coke."

Sylvie wrote down the order as he said it and ripped off the paper to show him.

"Very good. Now let me show how you can save a few steps." He took the pad from her and made a half-dozen movements of his hands in less than a quarter of the time it had taken her to scribble down the order. Pulling his written order off the pad, he turned it so she could see them both.

"Most everything can be abbreviated to some extent, some more than others. Take a look at the salad. While you write very beautifully, you can shorten this one to a few letters."

Indeed, Sylvie's "chicken salad w/ onions" had been turned into "Chx Sal +O". Likewise, "french fries w/ bac" - which she'd thought had been rather succinct - was condensed to "FF +B". About the only thing she could properly claim was "sm Coke", and even then Nathan had shrunk that to "S Coke".

"It's all about speed," Nathan explained. "Every restaurant is a bit different but, once the servers and the cooks learn each others' shorthand, it makes everything move much faster. I'm not criticizing, mind you, just trying to teach."

"No, I understand what you're saying. The more I write, the more you read, the longer it takes."

Nathan nodded. "It might not sound like much but a few seconds here and a few seconds there add up and, over the course of a busy night, that can make a difference."

"Okay. So, let me try this and see if you can understand." She took back the pad and wrote down "Ham w/ chz +O -L -K, O Rngs, Sal w/ Ran, Lg Tea" and handed it back to him.

"Cheeseburger with onion, no lettuce or ketchup, onion rings, salad with ranch, and large tea. Not bad. Try this, though." He quickly wrote down "CB +O -L/K, R, SS Ran, L T".

Sylvie read over the order. "This makes sense to you," she said, not asked.

"Yep, but Roger might have a hard time reading it. Everyone's a bit different. The longer we work together - we are going to work together longer, aren't we?" He waited for her nod. "The longer we work together the better we'll be. For the time being, try some shorthand and save your writing. I'll let you know if I have any questions."

"Here you go," a gravely voice said to her. She looked up, saw Roger holding a bag, and realized it was the first time she'd ever heard him speak. "I included a new fry recipe. If you could let me know what you think it would be appreciated."

"Will do. Thank you," she said, taking the bag. The smell coming from it was heavenly and she could feel her mouth watering.

The raccoon grunted and returned to the kitchen.

"Man of few words," Nathan quipped. "That does smell good, though."

"Maybe better than what you made?" Sylvie said playfully.

"Hey, now. I wouldn't go that far." He glanced up at the clock. "I should let you go. We still have some prep work to take care of and you need to be getting home."

"Thanks, Nathan."

"Not a problem. Oh, and if those fries are infused with cheese then, yeah, that was my idea."

Sylvie waved goodbye and headed up the stairs to Firgil's office. Knocking on the door, she waited for a response before entering.

"Mary said you needed to see me?"

"Yes. It's late and I won't take long." He put his glasses down on the desk. "How's everything going?"

"Very good," she said. "Everyone's friendly and I'm starting to get the hang of things, I think."

"Good. Glad to hear it. Would you like to take tomorrow off?"

She was surprised by the question, given it was her first week. "Is it because of the other night?"

It was his turn to look briefly confused. "Oh, no. I just don't want you thinking that just because we're open seven days a week you're required to work every day. I usually have Mary and Will on Wednesdays and it's traditionally our slowest day of the week. Mary is typically off on Thursdays and tomorrow would give you a chance to rest before taking the floor with Will Thursday night."

"Oh, okay. Sure."

"Don't get me wrong, you can come in if you want, I just don't want you to get burnt out."

"No, it's good. I'll take off tomorrow and come in on Thursday ready to go."

"Sounds good. Enjoy it. You're doing a good job."

She smiled and nodded before leaving. Heading down the steps, she replayed the conversation in her head and realized how disjointed it sounded. It wasn't because she wanted to work everyday or - recalling the wad of tips Mary had given her - the money but in just the few days she'd been here she had a feeling of belonging. She had been at some temp jobs longer but there had always been the general feeling of unease when she came around. Here, there was none of that.

The door latching behind her made her notice how late it was once she was outside. The sounds of the city were muted but some had been replaced by their night counterparts. Making her way to the bus stop, she could hear a garbage truck banging and beeping as it backed up from somewhere to her right. A street sweeper had passed by not long ago and left the edge of the sidewalk wet. She would have preferred the crickets, frogs, and occasional coyote howls from her childhood but the city had its own song if she listened long enough.

She had time to eat her wrap and fries - they were infused with cheese - before the bus came and she rode back to her apartment, happily content and at peace with herself.

/ / /

By ten o'clock the sun refused to be ignored and seemed to have cleared any and all clouds out of the sky to concentrate on the window to Sylvie's room. At first she grumbled and threw a pillow over her head, followed by a blanket. Eventually she capitulated and, wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth, removed herself from the bed. Scratching, stretching, and rubbing, she reflected on how the ritual of waking up easily destroyed all norms associated with gender, income, or species - no one was ever pretty when they woke.

Having no place to be, since she hadn't planned on being off this evening, she took her time brushing her teeth and tried to decide on what to do today. Once in the kitchen, she pulled a couple eggs from the refrigerator and made scrambled eggs with cheese. It was as luxurious of a meal as she'd made herself in the past month and took the time to savour every bite of the basic food. When she finished, she put her dishes in the sink, thought about it for a second, then quickly washed them.

She retreated to the living room and booted the computer to see if she could give the day some purpose. While it ran through its checks, she took her tips from the past couple nights from her bag and counted what was there. By the time the computer was ready for her input, she was sitting with a bemused smile on her face - she'd made this month's rent with thirty dollars to spare and two days to go. True, it was mostly ones and fives but those added up, nevertheless. Typing in the URL for local events, she thought about stopping by a bank to exchange the money for larger bills but, then again, Ms. Xi could do the same thing herself.

About the only thing which caught her interest was a science fair being put on at the community college. Other than that, there was a pet show of some sort happening at the convention center and a chamber music program at the theatre but neither seemed terribly interesting at the moment. Still, she jotted down the information for all three and logged into Netflix to watch something to make her laugh before jumping in the shower.

When she came home, Sylvie was thoroughly wiped out. The science fair had been a blast - literally. She had not realized the presenters were reps from various companies, both showing off their wares and recruiting. She'd signed up to volunteer on a couple panels but had more fun looking at the exhibits about what they were projecting the next decade to bring. All was going well until something small exploded on the other side of the room. No one had been hurt but it was enough to throw the fair into disarray and bring in the fire department. Everyone had been ushered outside and were nervously laughing until the signal was given that all was clear. No one looked directly at the rep from the smart toilet manufacturer who was being hustled out of the building with his head bowed.

After that, Sylvie had floated over to a thrift store to only browse, and ended up in the dollar theatre to watch a movie which had seemed interesting at the time but now, a few hours later, was as memorable as its name. Remembering she'd already cleared her rent, she allowed herself to hop on the bus and head to a Greek restaurant for a gyro, something she'd not had in a long time. On the way, she heard two other passengers talking about how a tank of spiders had shattered at the pet show, causing mass panic an order of magnitude larger than what she'd experienced at the science fair.

The gyro had been scrumptious and the tzatziki sauce had been to die for. When the owner said "I love you, man!" - his signature catch phrase - Sylvie would have agreed solely on basis of the quality of the food and made a note to bring Tiffany or Misti here when they had the day off together again. She'd even splurged on a kataifi and, even now, could still feel remnants of the honey sauce it had been drenched in clinging to her fingers as she fumbled with her keys.

Sitting on the futon in front of her computer in loose clothes with a bowl of popcorn, she saw the time was eight o'clock and the sun had yet to set completely. Her queue of movies and TV shows she'd been intending to binge watch were listed but her attention was drawn away by the thought that, on previous nights, she would have been working for over an hour by now.

I've done more today than just about any other day since I've moved here and yet I'm still restless. Why?

The answer to the question finally hit her during the second hour of watching Jeremy Wade's Dark Waters: she was still conditioned to be actively doing something. At no point since she'd been here had she really had a moment to completely relax. Yes, she had gone to the beach, or the library, or any number of other places but there had always been the knowledge that, once it was over, she would be needing to look for work again. Now, there was no need to look for work - she was employed. It wasn't a temp job, it wasn't a contract position, it was an actual job that she could quit when she wanted.

That thought gave her no small joy and she settled in to watch the rest of the season while feeling much more at ease.