"I'll have one coffee, please," a blonde-haired man orders.

She looks up, her recently-cut, chocolate brown hair fanning in front of her face. She nods, whispering in her English accent, "Alright. I'll be back in a minute."

She turns to go, when a hand on her wrist stops her. She glances back at him with a curious look. "Yes?" she asks.

"Did you use to live in England?" he inquires.

She grins, happy to hear his own accent. "Yes, I did. But I moved here with my friend, Nina, after school."

"Oh, cool. Um, sorry for bothering you, you just seem very familiar," he remarks.

"It's fine. I'll get that coffee, okay?" He nods and she walks off, behind the counter.

"I need a fresh pot of coffee, a plate of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon, and a stack of pancakes," she calls through the window.

"Got it, Joy!" Marissa, the chef, chef, replies.

"I'll be back in a minute," Joy throws over her shoulder as she grabs the pitcher with only two cups of coffee left in it. She glides over to the counter and fills up one nearly-empty cup to a man reading the Sunday paper, and then goes over to the blonde man who spoke to her earlier.

Joy puts a well-used, white mug in front of him, then poured the black coffee into the mug. "There you go, sir. Would you like anything else?" She takes a notepad from her back pocket and a pen from her ear, and gives him her full attention.

"Er, no. But I do have a question." He lifts his head to meet her eyes, and it strikes her how familiar he looks.

Where do I know you from? Joy asks herself. Instead of voicing her thoughts, she replies, "Yes?"

"What time do you get off?"

"Oh." She feels herself flushing a light pink. It has been ages since someone asked about that, and Joy almost forgets what time she gets off. "Um, it-it's five. No, I mean, s-six."

He arches an eyebrow. "I would have assumed the latter, honestly, since it's already five-forty-seven."

She stifles a laugh, but hears her name from Marissa: "Joy, I have your orders!"

"Oh, sorry!" Joy faces him again, adding, "I'm sorry, I have to go. Meet you here in a bit, right?"

"I'll be here," he responds with a smirk, taking a sip of his coffee.

Joy spins on her heel and heads back to the counter, to grab a platter on which she places the order of eggs and bacon and the plate of pancakes. She slides the pancakes down the counter, to a five-year-old boy who is eagerly awaiting his meal. The eggs and bacon plate she hands to a tall young woman with almond eyes and a heart-shaped face. The woman gives Joy a serene smile, whispering a soft "Thank you," and begins to eat her food.

"So who's that?" Marissa asks over the window, aiming the question at Joy. Joy tucks the empty platter under her arm, the notepad in her back pocket, and whirls to face her friend.

She eyes the blonde man who looks so familiar, but she cannot place where she has seen him. "I don't know. Looks like I know him, but . . ."

"He's cute," Marissa comments.

Joy rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead and date him, I really don't care."

. . .

It is six-o'clock, the end of Joy's shift at the place named: Erin's Diner. The man is still sitting there, checking his phone and taking occasional sips of coffee. After telling Marissa everything that happened, she urges Joy to go out with him, though Joy is not keen on having a relationship with anyone.

Joy hangs up her apron on the rack behind the counter, slipping on her warm black jacket over her uniform: a red shirt with the Erin's logo and blue jeans. She glances over at the man again, and now he's looking at her with those familiar blue eyes.

"Go, go!" Marissa whispers, pushing Joy's shoulders toward the booth he sits in.

"Alright, just stop pushing me!" Joy hisses in reply. She walks over to the booth, looking down and not meeting his eyes.

"What, afraid to look at me?" he jokes.

She sits across from him in the booth and raises her head to meet his gaze, giving him a cool look. "Nope. I just can't help but think you look very familiar . . ."

"Really?" he replies.

"Yes. Really." Joy smirks.

"What school did you go to?"

"Primary or secondary?"

"Either one works."

Joy shakes her head. "Too personal a question. Next?"

He laughs. "Fine, what's your name?"

"Joy. Joy Mercer," Joy answers.

His eyes widen. "No way."

Joy laughs. "Yes, it's true. My name is Joy. What's yours?"

"I'm Mick Campbell."

"No . . . you can't be!" She smiles. "How much do you eat daily?"

"Piles and piles of food," Mick replies with a grin.

"You are most definitely Mick Campbell." Joy ruffles his hair, as if affectionately petting her cat. "So how have you been?"

"Great. I'm going to university at UCLA. Majoring in sports."

"Obviously," Joy remarks with a sardonic smile.

"So how have you been since school? It's been, what, four years?" he asks.

"I moved here after school, with Nina. We-we made up after school. I apologized for how awful I was for those years in school, how I continued to run after Fabian like an idiot. I really was just kidding myself that he liked me, the signs were all there. I . . . I was being really-really stupid."

"No, you weren't. You just took a little longer to get over love," Mick assures her. He reaches over and takes her hand. He squeezes it with a sweet smile.

Joy opens her mouth to speak, but her phone lets off a shrill beep. She gives him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Hold on."

She presses the Call button and puts the phone to her ear. "Hello?" Joy answers.

"Hey, Joy. It's Patricia. I have a question for you," Patricia replies.

"Okay, what is it?" Joy responds.

"Well, I need to tell you in person. Get over here in five, yeah?"

"Wait- P-Patricia, hold on!" Joy cries frantically into the phone.

"Hey Yacker, where are you?" a familiar American's voice sounds through the phone.

"Is that Eddie?" Joy exclaims.

"Uh, I-I gotta go!" Patricia mutters hurriedly. "Be over here soon, okay? Bye!"

"Patricia!" Joy shouts into the phone. But it is too late: the dial tone rings in her ears.

She groans into the speaker, hitting the End Call button in frustration. She tucks the phone into her pocket again, rolling her eyes. She turns to face Mick, who looks at her in confusion.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. I just have to go. Um, here." She runs over to the counter and grabs her notepad. She scribbles down her number, rips the paper from the notepad, and hands it to Mick. "That's my number-call me sometime, okay?"

"Sure."

"Bye!" Joy calls over her shoulder. And then she is gone.

This is set in the future, after the Anubis kids graduate. Obviously I will be continuing because this first chapter had absolutely NO fluff... Honestly, I think I could have done a better job on this. But I wanted to get SOMETHING in...

I promise the next chapter won't be as bad! So please review!

~Ary