A/N Feel free to ignore. I am so sorry I has been such a long time, but I do have a reasonable explanation – I was very ill. I have a condition which does not affect me when under control, but when something sets it off, I have the whole hog of neurological symptoms: brain fog which makes forming even a simple sentence difficult, arthritis which makes typing painful, crippling fatigue which makes it hard to get out of bed. It has been several years since the last incident, but this one made it impossible for me to write. I am also catching up with all my school work, so the next update might me a while away, but I hope you enjoy this one in the meantime. Thanks for the words of encouragement you send since the last chapter x

I think I have finally decided on a direction to take this story… let's see how long that lasts, shall we.

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When tomorrow came around, Elizabeth's mind was made up – she was going back to the café. Arriving during a lull in activity, she was only the second customer in the line, so when it was her turn to be served, she had the cute brunet's attention.

"Hi Lizzie, what will it be today?" he asked with a friendly smile. She ordered easily, but was not sure what else to say; she was born with many natural talents, but flirting was not one of them. In the end, she had payed with a smile but took her tray wordlessly. She picked a seat by the window. The table was different to the others – it was not made of old pallets, but the top of an old hardwood desk balanced on a long piano stool. She came for the coffee and good-looking baristas, not the eclectic furniture.

It turned out her lack of male-directed social skills was not a problem. When his colleague took over his spot by the coffee machine, he flapped a cloth dramatically to signal his next job, then made a bee line for her table.

"Hi there. Can I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the seat opposite her.

"Yeah, sure, but won't you get in trouble?"

"No, it'll be fine. It is a slow day, and the lunch rush is already over. I didn't introduce my self yesterday – I am Sam." He stretched across the table to shake her hand, then sat back comfortably.

Sam was a puzzle Lizzie could not quite decipher. He had the look of a boy band member, with a sweet smile and floppy hair, but it did not make him seem young. Rather, it gave him a cheerful sadness – a man who was still in touch with his youth, despite being forced to grow up. Elizabeth thought it was endearing.

"So, Lizzie, are at the uni?"

"Yeah, I'm in my third year doing Chemical Engineering."

"That sounds cool. Bit scary if I'm honest, I'm was never the most academic guy at school." His sheepish smile made Lizzy grin. His accent was long and low, with some drawn out vowels then the occasional short, clipped word, as though the word did not decide how to sound until it was already being spoken. She replied,

"It is a bit scary if I'm honest – I got stuck on some of the chemistry in my first year so I took it to one of my friends who was studying pure Chemistry, and he actually couldn't do it. Said it was leaps and bound above anything they were studying."

"I stand by what I said – terrifying."

"And you, did you go to Meryton?"

"No, no, I've only just moved into the area. I actually went to drama school in London and lived there for a few years after I left."

"That sounds cool, what made you move out here?"

Sam sighed. "I got priced out, basically. I was getting acting jobs here and there, a couple of good runs on stage, but mostly I had to work in hospitality – you know, waiting and bar work and the like. It was not enough for me to keep paying London prices, so I've had to come out here to build up some saving before I can get back there."

"That sucks, I'm sorry."

"No, it's been fine – obviously most acting work is in London, but I was actually involved in something which shot not far from here, and there have been a couple of projects which payed enough for me to commute. I think its working out well so far."

"Have you been in anything I might have seen?"

"Possibly, do you see much theatre? That was mostly what I was doing."

"I don't really, I have not been in years."

The conversation continued for a while, as Elizabeth and Sam took turns to ask each other questions. Eventually, his co-worker began signal him from behind the till, frustrated that he had been abandoned to man the fort by himself.

"I'm going to have to get back," he sighed. "Maybe we can continue this conversation tonight? Over dinner?" Lizzie was slightly taken aback. In her experience, things never happened this quickly – all of her previous boyfriends had been friends for months before the had dated. I think I like this change of pace.

"That would be nice. I'll meet you in town – where are you thinking?"

"There is a nice bistro further down the high street, I can book a table for seven?"

Once they had agreed upon the details, they exchanged number in case there was a change of plans. Meanwhile, the queue at the till had started to grow in length and the man behind the counter was frantically signalling to Sam in between taking orders and pressing buttons on the coffee machine.

"I was lovely to speak to you, Lizzie, I'll see you later," he murmured as he stood up.

"Yeah, you too." She waved to him as she left the coffee shop and walked far enough away that he would not see her through the window before she began to frantically dig in her bag for her mobile. "Jane, help me! I have a date tonight and I don't know what to wear. What are you supposed to wear to a bistro?"

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Jane had been in work when she picked up Elizabeth's call so Lizzy had to wait until five for her sister to call her back. By this time, Lizzy was at home in her flat, turning her wardrobe inside out. With her gentle manner and practical advice, Jane had quickly settled her down. The ability to video call saved the day – Lizzy balanced her phone on the kitchen counter to hold up various items of clothing until an outfit had been agreed upon.

Jane had left her with a reasonable request: "If you decide to have a bit more… fun… with him than you are planning to right now, can you please text me the address? I don't want to have to worry." Elizabeth had laughed incredulously at her – it would be out of character for her to go home with Sam tonight – but agreed.

The next difficulty she encountered happened at she was stood in front of the maître d', five minutes before seven.

"You don't happen to have a reservation under Sam, do you? No?" She did not know his last name.

The situation was only resolved because Sam turned out to be just as punctual as Lizzy, and arrived at the restaurant a minute after her. They laughed about it as they sat down,

"What did you save my number in your phone as, if you did not know my last name was Digby?" Lizzie could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks as she reluctantly admitted it was saved under Sam Cute Barista.

There was a lull in the mood as they looked over the menus. She Elizabeth could feel Sam's gaze flicking up to her periodically so she kept her head down and avoided his eyes until he asked,

"Is everything okay, Lizzie?" His kind tone only made her feel worse.

"I'm sorry, its been a long time since I have done this. I am just a bit nervous."

"Would it help if I admitted I was nervous as well?" he offered.

"It would actually," Lizzie laughed.

The restaurant Sam had picked was a good choice, in Elizabeth's opinion. The atmosphere was warm while still feeling classy – the light fixings were polished and shining, tall potted house plants lent the diners some privacy, the bottles on the shelves behind the bar were arranged into a colourful display. The waiting staff were wearing polite smiles and doing a good job of pretending they did not dislike their jobs as much as servers often seem to. Their assigned waiter took their order with practised ease then left them to continue the conversation.

"So, Sam, where did you grow up?"

"That is a bit of a long story actually…"

"Why don't you tell me your long story then I'll tell you mine – we'll see whose is longer."

"Did you move around too?" Lizzy gestured for him to talk first. "Okay, well, let's see." Sam took a drink and rubbed the side of his nose with his forefinger. "I grew up in Swansea in south Wales – both my parents are Welsh as well. We moved to Cumbria when I was ten, then down to London when I was in sixth form. I have been all over the place, really. That's why my accent is a bit of a muddle sometimes.

"What about you? Where did you grow up?"

"I was born in Manchester, but I don't remember it – my earliest memories are nursery in Germany. We moved to Cyprus when I was about five, then back to the UK, to Surrey, about a year and a half after that. Since then I've lived near Windsor, the West Midlands and here."

Sam nodded vigorously. "You win," he declared firmly.

The rest of the meal continued in a similar vein – light-hearted questions and casual laughs. Elizabeth let herself be absolutely charmed by her companion. It had been quite a while since she had been so attracted to man; it had been even longer since she was still attracted after having a conversation with them. A unanimous decision was made after the main course that they would be having desert.

"I can't decide between the chocolate lava cake or the citrus syrup sponge," Sam groaned after several minutes of contemplation.

"You know, I was having just the same problem. The chocolate cake sounds divine but I saw the syrup sponge go past a minute ago and it looks so good!"

"Why don't we split it? Two deserts, two spoons, half of each desert, each."

"I like the way you think," Lizzie announced, pointing at him in admiration.

As they waited for the pudding to arrive, the logistics of the arrangement required some ironing out – Elizabeth was an engineer, the fine details needed to be established.

"Do we cut a line down both to ensure an even half-and-half spread, or do we operate under a trust system and promise not to eat more than our share?"

"Why don't we both just tuck in, and see how it goes," Sam suggested as he chuckled softly to himself.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him playfully and accused, "You're one of those spontaneous types, aren't you? No, no, don't deny it, I can see it in your eyes." He raised his hands in admission.

"I am, I'm sorry. Sometimes," he leaned forward and lowered his voice as though confessing a deep, dark secret, "Sometimes, I wake up in the morning with no plan for what I am going to do that day, then I," he paused dramatically, "wing it." He held her gaze tensely until she finally broke, falling into fits of laughter.

"I can see it now, the actor thing."

"Classically trained, I am," he declared proudly.

When the bill came, they split it diplomatically. As they walked from the restaurant, Lizzy slipped her arm through his. His only response was a smile. When they reached his car, he offered her a lift home, but she declined, knowing it was only a short walk to her flat.

"Thank you so such a lovely evening, Sam."

"I am glad you had a good time too. I would really like to see you again."

"I'd like that." There was a pause as Sam looked at Lizzie, as Lizzie looked at Sam – the moment stretched and pulled for several seconds until they leaned forward at the same time and their lips touched.

The kiss only lasted an instant but it left a smile on Elizabeth's face. As she walked away with a soft goodbye, she sent a text to Jane,

"Heading back to mine tonight, not too much fun for me."

Then she sent another one. "Don't rule it out for the future."

TBC…