Joe's eyes snapped open and her hand flung out from under her cocoon of covers to slap against her alarm clock. It was another day of rising before the sun and the copper girl couldn't help but be tired. She rolled out of bed and ran a hand down her face, hopefully wiping away any wayward drool. She then padded to her bathroom and locked herself in, trying to make herself presentable.

When the bathroom door opened, Joe looked like herself once more. She went back into her bedroom and shrugged on her uniform, buttoning it to the start of her breasts. She took off her headscarf and fluffed her bangs, then she dusted some powder on her face. She slipped her shoes on her feet and hurried to the kitchen.

The waitress popped some bread into her toaster before returning to her bedroom. She tied her apron around her waist and grabbed her purse before catching her toast as it popped up. She took a final look around her apartment and left, locking the door behind her.

She munched on her toast as she made her way to the subway station, watching as different people also went to work. When she got on the train, she put her headphones in and forgot the world around her, only focusing on the lyrics that were being sung into her ear.

Joe arrived to the diner at half past six, using her key to get in the closed restaurant and flicking on the lights. She headed towards the back and opened her locker, hanging her purse up in the stall. She shut her locker and headed out front, going to the back room to put her things away.

Joe's bright brown eyes stared back at her in the mirror as she hurriedly fluffed the bangs of her pixie cut. She smoothed out her stereotypical waiting uniform, complete with a yellow button-up dress, a white apron, and a cheesy name tag that has her real name on it: 'Josephine'. Rufus, the owner of the diner, wouldn't let her use her nickname, something about her name being so stereotypically 'waitressy' that it would be a crime not to print it on a nametag.

She left the room, tying her apron around her waist, "Morning Miss Frieda." Joe greeted the cook who in turn smiled at her through the service window.

"Morning, Josie."

She started her regular routine of setting everything up; putting on the coffee, laying out the menus, filling the straw containers, emptying the dishwasher, putting down the stools, and wiping the counters. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, Ms. Frieda raised a graying brow at the young girl.

"Did you eat, Josie?"

"Yes, ma'am." Joe answered, sipping on her drink. She caught the incredulous look the older woman sent her way and she frowned, "I did!"

"What did you eat, girl?" Ms. Frieda inquired, with a raised brow.

Joe bit her lip to contain her smile, "Toast." The cook of the diner shook her head and passed the copper girl a plate through the server window without a word. The waitress smiled and sat on the counter of the diner, eating the freshly prepared eggs and bacon. When she was finished she put Joe walked over and unlocked the door to the diner, flicking on the 'Open' sign and placing her plate in the bussing tray.

That was the start of her workday. She manned the early morning crowd on her own and at ten o'clock on the dot, Taylor joined her.

The day went off without a hitch, even the bustle of the lunch rush wasn't enough to dampen her day. The bell at the door jingled and Joe's brown eyes darted to it, seeing the one man she was waiting for walk in. Joe's eyes followed his every step. The stranger walked with an air of importance, with a certain stride that was almost aristocratic. He was dressed impeccably, his suit was obviously tailored, and dark sunglasses covered his eyes. Even with his eyes hidden from view, his face was still deemed handsome by the young woman. He took a seat at his usual booth, a small one towards the back by the window.

The man had been coming in for a month straight, at the exact same time, sitting at the exact same table. Joe didn't know anything about him, only that he ordered a black coffee and put his phone face down on the table and ignored the insistent vibrations. She also knew that he was foreign, but from where she did not know.

He was pretty, she'd admit, and she liked the way his voice sounded. He had an accent, but she couldn't decipher where it was from, and she liked the way he spoke. Even if he had only spoken three words to her, it was enough for her to be impressed. He must have worked for a very big company.

Joe didn't waste anytime in putting on a fresh pot of coffee and subconsciously fluffing her hair. The ding of the coffee maker brought Joe out of her thoughts and she lifted the coffee pot, pouring her stranger a piping hot mug of tea. She placed it on a white saucer and walked around the counter and to the booth, bringing the coffee to him. "Black coffee." Her voice rang as she set the cup on the table.

The stranger's face spread into a half smile and he nodded to her, "Thank you."

"No problem. If you need anything else, my name's Joe." With one last smile, she walked away.

Taylor came from out the back and leaned against the counter, smirking at her friend. "So your boyfriend came back, huh?"

"Shut up Tay." Joe grumbled, but the smile on her face contradicted the snappiness of her words. The server bell rung and the copper woman turned around and grabbed her plates, balancing two in her hands and two on her forearms. Joe flawlessly delivered the plates to their rightful owners, not breaking a sweat or her smile.

"Thanks Joe!" Her patrons cheerfully chimed and she nodded, her smile just as bright. She walked through the restaurant and bussed tables, collecting dishes as she wiped them down. She went in the back and placed the dishes in the sink, before coming back to the front, "Tay, you got dishes in there."

The blonde rolled her eyes but nodded, abandoning her magazine and walking to the dishwasher in the back. Joe laughed at her expression and picked up the pot of freshly brewed coffee, before walking over to her stranger and filling his cup.

"Thank you." He smiled at her with straight white teeth. Joe bit her lip and nodded, turning around so he wouldn't see her adamantly fighting her smile. She walked back behind the counter where Taylor was giving her two thumbs up and smirking.

"Shut up." She muttered, putting the coffee canister back on its heating pad.

"Ooh, he smiled at you." Taylor cooed, carrying the dirty dishes into the back. "He luh-uves you!"

Joe rolled her eyes and wiped down the counters, letting a small smile grace her lips. As she tidied up the restaurant, she hummed a tune.

"Miss." The stranger's voice called to her. She pocketed her rag and walked over to his table, seeing that his coffee cup was still full.

"Yes?" She questioned with a smile.

"I would like to order something but," He paused, looking up at her with a half-smile, "I do not know what to get. Do you have a suggestion?"

Joe blinked, all at once seeming to forget the menu of the diner. She quickly composed herself and nodded, "Well," She started, her accent unintentionally coming out, "What are ya in the mood for?"

The stranger leaned back in the booth and took off his sunglasses, pursing his lips. "I think I would like something sweet."

Joe hummed and chewed on her bottom lip before snapping her fingers, "You should try our apple pie with a little dollop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream."

"You seem to know what you are talking about," The stranger said playfully, smiling at her, "I guess I can trust you."

"If you don't like it, it's on me." Joe assured him, walking backwards towards the kitchen. She turned around and bit her lip, nearly running into the backroom. "Miss Frieda I need the best piece of pie you've ever made."

The elderly woman was taken by surprise and glared at the young girl, her eyes narrowed, "Child what are you tryin' to say? My pie ain't good?"

"No ma'am never, but this guy might be my soulmate and I just want to bond with him over a piece of your pie!" Joe whispered quickly, "Don't you want me to get married Miss Frieda?"

"I guess." The woman rolled her eyes and took out a fresh pie from the oven, setting it on the counter. "Make yourself useful and get the ice cream from the freezer."

Joe nodded and hurriedly obeyed the woman, scooping a perfect sphere of ice cream onto the plate. Miss Frieda cut a triangle of pie, making the piece slightly bigger, and put it on the plate. "If he doesn't marry you after this, he ain't worth it child."

Joe grabbed the plate and took a deep breath, walking out the kitchen. She placed a smile on her face and sat the plate down in front of the stranger, watching his facial expression turn into one of intrigue. "One order of Nickel's famous apple pie. Best pie this side of New York."

The stranger nodded and unwrapped his silverware, tucking the napkin into his button up. He picked up his spoon and took a piece of the pie and a small amount of ice cream and slowly put it in his mouth.

Joe watched him mull over his bite with baited breath, chewing on her bottom lip and fiddling with her fingers. The stranger swallowed and looked up at her with a blank face, before motioning over the seat across from him. "Sit down." He commanded in an even tone.

Joe blinked and obeyed without a word, sliding into the booth. He leaned toward her and looked into her eyes, lowering his voice, "This is the best pie I have ever eaten."

The waitress put a hand over her chest and let out a sigh of relief, giggling lowly. He joined in her laughter and she shook her head with a large smile, "You scared me."

"It is delicious. My compliments to the chef." The stranger smirked, taking another large bite.

Joe laughed again and kept her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip. "I'm glad you like it." She began to stand from the booth.

"Do you have anyone else to serve?" He questioned, making her freeze. Joe took a look around the empty diner before shaking her head. "Then would you please join me?" Joe blinked and sat back down, watching him eat once more. "Are you from the city?" He asked her and she swallowed.

"No," She started lowly before clearing her throat, "I am actually from New Orleans."

"I see." He nodded, wiping the corner of his mouth. "That is in the south, correct?"

Joe nodded with a smile, "Are you from the city?"

The man smirked and chuckled a bit, like it was a joke. "No." He simply answered, "I am from a country called Wakanda."

"Wakanda?" Joe breathed, liking the sound of it. She put her head in her hands and leaned forward, "Where's that?"

"It is in northeastern Africa." He informed her, his smile friendly.

"I've never been outside the country before." Joe told him, "I haven't been on a plane, matter of fact. I know the plane ride must be arduous, flying commercial and all."

The stranger chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the creases as his smile grew, "Yes, it is a very long flight."

"You probably fly first class though, huh?" Joe inquired, her eyes sweeping over him, "You look like you have a very important job. Are you here on business?"

"As a matter of fact of I am." The man nodded with a smirk, finishing his last bite of pie.

"Do you travel alot?" Joe asked before reprimanding herself, "Sorry, I'm asking too many questions…"

"No it is fine." The man shook his head, "I have travelled many different places, though there is no place like Wakanda." He told her with shining eyes.

Joe grinned and bit her lip, "Wow." She breathed, "I wish I could-!"

"Joe!" Taylor's voice rang, peeking out at her from the kitchen door, "Rufus is on the phone for you!"

Joe sighed and rolled her eyes, getting up from the booth. "Sorry, I'll be right back." She assured him, grabbing his empty plate. She rushed to the back and put the plate in the sink before taking the phone from Taylor.

"Hello?"

After ten whole minutes of being yelled at by her boss, Joe was finally off the phone and running out of the kitchen, only for her to find an empty booth. "Your prince charming left." Taylor snickered from the counter.

Her shoulders fell and she walked over to the table, picking up the empty coffee cup. To her surprise, the napkin under the cup contained a note.

'Thank you for the pie and conversation.' Was written in calligraphic script and a hundred dollar bill was under the napkin.

Joe bit her lip and leaned against the table, holding the note to her chest like a lovesick schoolgirl. She wasn't too worried; she'd see him tomorrow, after all.