Nife's Edge

Authors note: Serious spoilers for 'The Axeman's Carnival' by Catherine Chidgey

---- ---- ---- 1.

You know that soft state between a dream and awareness? You're conscious enough to wrap yourself up in the desire of the dream, reaching for something intangible that's melting from your grasp... that sweet, pillowy, full body warmth...

...And that nagging growing offness. That you shouldn't be here. That this isn't real. And then you forget what 'this' is, only left with the sensation of it...

Something, somewhere slips in; sharp and cold. A crashing wave of reality as you hear yourself take a breath...

"Oh you've decided to join the realm of the living after all." AJ flicked his eyes over the top of his phone to meet mine. "Nice nap?" I blinked as his face swam into my vision. Dark hair with a few greys at the temples. Stern jaw and fine lines. He has an elegant face. Elegant and striking and authoritative. I can't always meet his eye. Like- I feel he's going to tell me off. Like- I feel strangely on edge sometimes when he looks at me a certain way. Like I'm... failing to live up to something.

"Yeah..." I yawned. The light outside was dusky and purplish. Later than I hoped. "Fuck, sorry... How was your day?" I stretched out and almost fell off the couch as I tried to get my limbs working and my neck realigned.

"Hmmm..." he shrugged. "Dinner smells good." He glanced at the kitchen. I got the hint and stumbled up properly, throwing cutlery at the table.

"Sorry, wake me up next time! It's ready, probably just needs a couple of minutes to finish off...."

"Smells amazing, Rubey." AJ smiled at me. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked very peaceful, it would have been mean."

"Thanks." My neck cracked as I gently twisted it. Ugh. I should really start yoga or something. Seemed like my body was permanently bent out of shape these days. I turned an element on to finish off the risotto I'd started.

Mmmm. It really had been a nice dream. Someone was with me. Probably AJ although you know how dreams are. I had a nagging feeling it was someone else actually. I glanced at him as I stirred the rice. I shouldn't feel guilty about that. It was just a dream.

I finished cooking and carefully plated the food, without even really thinking about it. I tweezed some herbs and delicately squeezed some oil for garnish, hypnotized by perfecting the plates in front of me. I heard a snort and blinked to see AJ watching me from the kitchen table.

"Please do take your time, sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow. "I'll just starve over here."

"Shut up." I laughed as I hurried the plates over to the table. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise." He caught me as I bent over to set the food down and kissed my cheek. "My own private chef? Heaven, Rubey."

"Oh don't make me gag." I laughed as I reached for the cupboard and twisted my lips, looking at his wine. AJ has expensive taste. By which I mean: his taste is whatever his favourite critic of the month thinks and that's usually expensive. I know we live together. I know it's 'our' pantry. But... you know.

"Just whatever." I heard him sigh as I scanned the bottles in front of me. "Stop being so precious."

"Ok." I grabbed a bottle I'd been eying. It wasn't breaking the bank by AJ's standards. I yawned as I grabbed some glasses and poured some. He watched me closely and his mouth thinned as I sat down beside him.

"You all good?" He asked.

"Tired." I stared at the food which looked beautiful, and smelled amazing, and I felt a little nauseous. I reached for my wine instead.

"This is amazing." AJ squeezed my hand, rolling his head dramatically as he started eating. "You are a GENIUS." He grinned at me. I smiled back weakly. "God almighty, Rubey, open your own fucking place already."

"Absolutely not." I laughed. "I'm going grey already! Last thing I need is more stress." I winced and gulped down more wine, my eyes darting guiltily over to AJ. As if I had any right to talk about being stressed to him. He was burning the candle at both ends, all hours these days. He'd been called into the office more times than I could count. And it was definitely taking a toll.

I waited for him to snap... but didn't seem to process what I'd said, engrossed into the food. I smiled as I watched him and tried to perk myself up. I mean, I was struggling too. Unhealthy from every angle. Tied down to a job more than I was to my boyfriend. But running a restaurant isn't life or death you know? We can't both be falling apart at the same time. And he was falling apart. He was snapping all the time- when he was home. His hours were almost as bad as mine, unheard of outside of hospitality usually, and the stakes were higher. Which meant the income was higher as well, but that's only another cause of stress for me. We've been together for years and years now but... I've never managed to crawl up beside him and feel like we're on equal ground. He loves me. He adores me. But we were in different places when we started dating, and that gap just seems to widen every day.

"This is seriously divine." AJ kicked me under the table. "Are you not even going to try it?" I blinked and looked down at my plate, where I'd been twirling my fork absentmindedly.

"God, I'm just not hungry." I sighed. "I was tasting as I went, think I spoiled my appetite."

"I guess miracles do happen." AJ grunted. "Well I'll have yours then." He shrugged. "Are you really not going to eat it?"

"Guess not." I slid the bowl over to him and cradled my wine instead. He took my plate and dug in happily. I kind of hate how he can eat anything and stay so fit. I wasn't quite so lucky. Although, as AJ had once or twice pointedly commented, it's not like I was keeping up with running or soccer like I used to and he was working out and playing everyday in spite of work. It wasn't exactly a miracle that he was slim and I wasn't. What's that saying though? Never trust a skinny chef? Well- AJ would probably tell me that was only an excuse while I was a chef. Now I'm a restaurant manager I can't really blame my weight on tasting the food.

I sighed as I watched him and leant my head on my hand. "How bad was work?" I asked him as I topped up his glass.

"Actually alright." He caught my eye and grinned at me. "How was your weekend?" He joked. Due to a mismanaged schedule, one I had personally fucked up and didn't have the energy to fix, I was stuck with a one day 'weekend' for the foreseeable future which was bearable, but not exactly wonderful. I'd slept till well after noon and dragged myself out of bed around 4pm because AJ usually finished work at 5 and was home by 6 and I'd promised I'd clean the house... I did the laundry, the dishes, swept, watered the pants, cleaned the bathrooms and made dinner- and he was late after all which was annoying but he told me just in time for me to save the risotto and fall on the couch. You know, I think I used to have hobbies? Or goals? Or something beyond this....

Well. Maybe one day.

"Pretty mediocre," I grinned, "but at least the house is tidy."

"Yeah it looks much better." AJ glanced around the room. "Thanks, angel."

"No problem." I yawned. AJ sighed and glanced at his watch.

"Well. No offence but you are currently really terrible company." He nudged my leg again. "Go to bed."

"I'll clean up." I stretched out, gesturing to our plates. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand at me.

"I can manage two bowls and wine glasses." He grunted. "You look exhausted."

"You didn't want to... like... do anything? After dinner?" I glanced at AJ out of the corner of my eyes. It should be easy, trying to seduce the man who's loved you for years, but... AJ's eyes swept over me. I felt my gut clench a little. Damn. Still that same faraway look in his eyes. Not even a flicker of interest. "Like catch up on a show or something?" I asked quickly, to save us both from having to face him turning me down. He squeezed my hand.

"Just go to bed Rubey. Sleep in as well, I'll be up early."

"Ok. Thanks for cleaning up. Love you."

"Love you."

I staggered to the bedroom and looked at myself. I took my shirt off and sighed as my eyes drifted from my reflection to an old photo of AJ and me, from a few years ago, when we'd just started dating properly. Fuck I looked young. Well. I was young. I felt this tiny uncomfortable twinge in the back of my neck as I stared at my body. I traced a line across my shoulders. My fingers slowly wrapped around my bicep.

Aside from staff meals and cheap booze off the clock and all the other usual restaurant perks; my restaurant, Pongakawa, offered a gym membership. One of those trying to keep up with the times 'we're a cool place to work' kind of perks that they think will mean everyone is so content with their job they forget to ask for a pay rise. I took advantage of it anyway. I'd never been a gym guy. Well, look at me. Of course not. But even back when AJ and I met I didn't really do anything. I played soccer, but not well enough to continue.

I tensed the muscle awkwardly. Weird. Good weird. I never had muscle. Even when I was thin and fit I wasn't exactly a stud. I ran my hand over my arm, and my pecs as I tensed them. I tried to clench my abs and rolled my eyes at myself. Ok, there might be some development but I was hardly gonna be sporting a six pack any time soon.

I stared at the old photo, picking at my body in the mirror and comparing the two of us. I still looked ok if you just looked at my face. That hadn't changed too much. If anything I'd grown into my features- I had a big everything; big dark eyes, big nose, big lips... I blamed my mother and her big meddling Italian personality. At least I held a tan really well. I was pleasantly olive even through winter. I tucked my hair behind my ears to look at my jawline. Ugh, my hair was getting too long, but I hated how baby faced a short back and sides made me look. Maybe it would be ok if I had a chiseled jaw or a fitter body but I don't and anything less than a shaggy just on the shoulders cut seemed to make me look like a chubby toddler. When my hair was longer, and I had a day or two worth of beard growth I could see a hint of a hot guy, somewhere inside me. Especially coming off summer when I was really tanned, and my dark hair had little flecks of gold in it... and with the gym....

It wasn't enough though was it? I looked away from my reflection in shame, having spent way too much time staring at myself- like some vain teenage girl. It felt worse every time AJ turned me down.

He was probably just tired. And we'd been together in one way or another for the better part of a decade now, right? People just stop having sex. It's a thing. It's a lame thing but it's a thing.

I put on an audiobook I'd read a million times- The Once and Future King- to help me sleep.

Anything to drown out the thoughts.

------ ------

"What are you listening to?" I jumped as Joel pulled out my earbud.

"Huh?"

"Said what see you listening to, space cadet."

"Oh." I winced and glanced at my phone screen. I'd been daydreaming. I had an hour break from work on the floor in the restaurant to do work in the office. I was starting to develop a habit of falling asleep and working at the same time. "Yeah uh. Nothing."

"Alvin and the chipmunks?" Joel cackled as he followed my gaze. "Weirdo."

"Yeah like... the sludge version. It's slowed down to a 16th speed, it's actually really..."

"Any wine list changes for tonight?"

"Oh... uhhh..." I scrambled to find my notes. "Uh yeah so we're swapping the Beach House Malbec for..."

"Just slack me."

"Got it." I glanced at Joel and rolled my eyes internally before turning back to the computer. "Anything on your end?" I asked as I finished making my changes to the wine list.

"Yeah but pay attention, Reuben, I literally only have time to go over this once."

"Kay, shoot." I paused and grabbed some paper to scribble on.

"Asparagus is out of season so..." He droned on as I furiously made notes for yet another last minute reprint of the menu. Sometimes I wish I worked somewhere cheap and cheerful where the menus were laminated and when something changes it was just taped over and handwritten.

Well. No. I don't really wish that, do I? I DO wish my head chef was like, literally anyone else in the whole world but you get who you get in a job don't you?

The second he came on board he gave me a quick once over and while he managed to keep any words to himself his derisive snort pretty much said it all. He was a good chef, maybe a great chef. He'd worked for Neil Perry, and Monique Fiso and even Alain Ducasse- and everyone fucking knew it.

Prior to him I'd actually always had a great relationship with back of house, probably because I was one of them for the majority of my years of my- well. Career may be a grandiose term. I'd been a dishie. I'd been a line cook. I'd been a pizza chef in a small local woodfire joint. I'd even been a real Chef- across multiple disciplines and I would made sous if I hadn't done a favour for a friend. They ran a fairly well known bistro and begged me to Maitre D their restaurant for a night when all their emergency contacts had fallen through. That resulted in Lydia Deans and Marty Whistler, gods of the restaurant scene in Aotearoa, being served by me, which resulted in a job offer to manage their new place; Pongakawa, that I really couldn't refuse.

Maybe Joel didn't know that. Maybe he did and thought I was a wet blanket for moving to the front for the better pay and mildly better working conditions. It used to eat me alive, the way he spoke to me, and he still made my whole body tense every time I saw him. One of those guys who always grunted that respect was earned but didn't seem to realise his version of respect was the bare minimum of polite human interaction. Whenever we had a problem my heart sank and my gut went tight and I usually ended up running my mouth off at him because I wasn't going to just sit back and TAKE his borderline abuse.

I would have left the job- only there was a deep stubborn itch within me to prove that he couldn't break me. That I was strong and inflexible and I'd been here before him and I'd be here long after him. There was that, and, of course, that I had no other skills and no where to go. I was at the top, and the only way out was down.

So I sucked it up.

"Wake up space cadet!" Joel barked. I blinked and sheepishly met his eye, knowing he knew I hadn't listened properly to a single word. He couldn't prove that though. I'd been writing it all down, even if it wasn't going in. "You look worse than I feel." grunted at me. "Lay off the weed."

"Says the guy who stinks out the kitchen every fucking split."

"Can you just get through tonight?" Joel rolled his eyes at me. "And then eat some proper food so you can get through the week? A vegetable maybe?"

"I'll be fine tonight." I rubbed my eyes. "Back off."

"Get it together then." He muttered, standing up and letting his chair scrape the concrete. "See you ten to five for briefing."

"Oui, Chef."

--- ---

"Jordana! I'm so glad you're in! Come on I have your favourite table." I ushered in the owner of the stupidly overpriced vintage store down the road. "Bolly? You got it." I paused on my journey back to the front of the room, pausing to check in on Liz and Derek, and clearing a few glasses, and recommending a bottle of wine. "Hey I've got Table 4s drink, and I'm sending her some olives while she's waiting, Can you set her up? Thanks Georgie." My eyes swept over the room and I paused as I saw the worried look on Amy's face. I glanced over to the pass. Joel was staring at me. He beckoned me over. I could feel my charming smile falter as I headed there. "Hit me." I braced myself.

"Out of steak tartare, there's three on order and we can't do one of them. Table 6 ordered last but we also fucked up their oysters..."

"Yeah I'll talk to 11." I glanced at the dockets over the pass. "Rob, can you let everyone know re tartare?"

"Oui, chef."

"Wait." Joel caught him. "Uhhh..." He caught my eye and swallowed. I took a deep breath.

"Just tell me." I suggested. He motioned for me to come closer and lowered his voice.

"Pizza oven is fucked." He mumbled. "Extractors not working. We've Uh... we've rigged up a window and fan and we can do what's on order but..."

"86 pizza." I smiled at Rob. "I'll be round in a sec to explain. Anything else chef?"

"Nothing you can fix." Joel grunted.

"Right on." I rolled my eyes. "Good hustle with the oven, thanks."

"Huh?" Joel stopped arranging strip loin with his chopsticks and glared at me.

"I mean it." I smiled thinly. "Rather go one night sans pizza than burn the fucking place down."

"Right." He glanced at me and quickly went back to his plating.

The night was alright. I glided through it, involving myself in every table and every wine choice and every mistake or complaint or compliment. I like to be a presence people feel safe with. I like to be solutions and guidance and high expectations. Joel was on his best behaviour and even when my crew made a mistake he just glared at me and let me fix it without comment. Hmm. I knew a guilty conscience when I saw it.

Service died down and I made sure all my staff had their breaks before glancing at the time and deciding it was probably safe to take mine. I skipped food in favour of extra time to smoke and sighed internally as I saw my mate Kurt step outside. I usually like just a second to be alone while my head buzzes with the night, but I'm a good colleague before anything else and I whistled to him, waving my arm in greeting.

"Good night, eh?" Kurt thumped down next to me.

"Yeah, nah, for sure." I grinned. "Late though." I winced, peeking back into the restaurant and seeing the dozen or so tables still humming. Fuck, I wouldn't be done with cleaning up till like 1am. Great. AJ would be raging. He understood the job was what it was, but getting home after 12 and waking him up always pissed him off.

"Yeah, ooosh and you're on the day tomorrow yeah?"

"Yeah." I laughed. "Oh well, that also means a night off tomorrow! What the fuck am I gonna do with myself?"

"K-pub quiz!" Kurt punched the air gleefully. "You can finally make it! No excuses Rubes. Need your beautiful grey sludge." He grabbed my shoulders and I laughed as he planted a wet kiss on my forehead.

"Get off!" I pushed him away. "God, I'm sorry, I dunno Kurt... I'll have to ask AJ..."

"Fuck off, he can come."

"Yeah but I was gonna cook him dinner and..." I trailed off as I caught the comical expression of disgust on Kurt's face.

"Are you telling me you need permission from your fully grown man to go out for one fucking night because he's incapable of making himself dinner?" Kurt gagged.

"That's absolutely NOT what I said, and you know it," I laughed, "but I do need to ask him, that's what you do when you have plans with someone, dickhead."

"Seriously, bring him, it's insane I've never met him, you know that right?"

"He won't come," I shrugged, "he has no interest in...."

"Meeting your friends and supporting you having a good time?" Kurt raised his eyebrows at me.

"Pubs and slash or quizzes." I rolled my eyes.

"Ask him." Kurt nudged my knee. "Dare ya. Give him a chance to redeem himself."

"From what?! You don't know him!" I sighed.

"Yeah, we'll you're his biggest fan and he comes across as a wanker even through your rose tinted glasses so...."

"You're the wanker." I laughed. "Ok, ok. I'll ask. Imma head in, get a head start on closing up."

"Love your work, baby."

----

I swore to myself as I checked the time.

I'd hustled the close and caught an Uber I couldn't really afford, but it was still closer to 1am than I was comfortable with. AJ... He's... he's just a super light sleeper. He notices when I get in late. He says it fucks with his whole morning routine when I wake him up after midnight. He also says he worries if he reaches for me in the night and I'm not there, which really is so sweet of him to say... but. I mean. It's not like I work long hours for fun, you know. Sometimes I swear he forgets that.