A/N: Hello, my readers! Welcome to a new modern AU Imector saga. I'm terrible at summaries and always have been. Do me a big favor and ignore this one, because I would really love to think that this story is a whole lot more interesting and probably badass than that summary is.

You will notice in this opening chapter that one of the members of the Rivera family, film wise anyway, turns up. You will also notice that she is not a part of either Imelda's or Héctor's literal family here. That is how most of this will go. I do have plans to work in some of the other Rivera family members, though not Miguel at the present time, but they may or may not still be literal relatives.

This is very, very much an AU. I like to think Imelda's and Héctor's characters and quirks from the film make it through, as they are both very precious to me, but I have added on to both.

This is rated T for the present time, although there is the potential I may up it to M in the future, primarily for language.

I owe you a bunch if you made it this far through my yapping. Please enjoy the chapter, leave reviews (you know they are my life blood, guys), and thank you all for being on this page. Much love.

Her mind willed her eyes to open, but Imelda's eyes begged her to ignore it. Five am was too ungodly of a time to even think about getting up, much less dealing with the world.

The phone's alarm went off for the third time. Imelda huffed and dragged herself into a sitting position, mentally reminding herself to smack the previous evening's her for deciding to set the phone on the opposite side of the room.

Damn it.

She shoved the covers off, balling them into the foot of the bed, and stomped over to her phone, silencing the insistent and far-too-cheery tune. Her eyelids felt heavy, too heavy, heavy enough that she briefly considered falling back into bed for a few minutes.

"Not if you want to keep your job, Imelda," she chastised herself out loud. "You know perfectly well you won't get up for another hour." An hour would be too long. In an hour, she needed to be perky as all hell and have coffee percolating at work, cheerfully serving the morning commuters their caffeine fix. Ugh. Imelda groaned and muttered a few choice comments under her breath.

This is fine, Imelda, this is fine. You love coffee, you love caffeine, you got this. Everything is fine.

Yanking a skirt and blouse out of her dresser perhaps a little more violently than was necessary, Imelda headed for her bathroom and ordered herself to start the day.

Victoria was already waiting outside the cafe when Imelda arrived at five forty-five on the dot.

"'Morning, Imelda."

"'Morning, Tor."

Victoria gave her a look. "Rough morning?"

"Oh no, just the usual. You know I love dragging myself out of bed at five am."

Victoria chuckled, giving her friend and co-worker a quick hug in the process. "I still don't know why you work opening shifts, Imelda. A morning person getting up at the crack of dawn: doesn't really sound conducive to keeping you happy."

"Hey, I need the hours," Imelda shrugged, wrestling the café's lock open and waving her friend inside. "I'm a big girl. Be responsible, get out of bed in a timely manner and all that.":

Victoria flicked on the lights and started pulling the chairs down for the day. "Speaking of being in bed…" She allowed her voice to trail off and waggled her eyebrows.

Imelda pretended to ignore her, switching on the espresso machines and watching a tad too intently as they gurgled to life. "Hey, looks like they're calibrating okay today. They were pulling eleven second shots yesterday. Blech."

"Imelda, come on. How was the night out?"

She wasn't going to get out of this. "Tor, please tell me you're not going to ask about the date." She had gone out the night before, under a bit of duress and encouragement from Victoria, to dinner with a café regular. It wasn't that she didn't want to go out, but god, her life just did not allow for those complications right now.

"I'm going to ask. And probably make a few inappropriate comments."

"We went out. Had dinner." She switched on the pastry case lights. "What blend do you want to brew today? Light like your overly interested attitude? Dark like my soul?"

"Dark like your soul. So you went to dinner?" Victoria leaned both elbows on the counter, grinning.

Imelda paused a moment, scooping the beans into the grinder. "We went to dinner. He took me home, tried to kiss me, I dodged, I said goodnight." The grinder hummed to life, the crunch of the coffee beans pronouncing an end to her date exploits.

"And?"

"And nothing. I sent him on his not-so-merry way."

Victoria blew a stray hair out of her face. "Damn it, Imelda. I thought the guy was perfect for you."

"Right, because someone checking me out while I make cappuccinos always turns me on," she returned with a wry laugh. "I don't like being flirted with at work, Tor. Never have, never will. I can't really tell someone to f off in a customer service job now, can I?"

"I mean, in theory, yeah you could." Victoria was restocking their milk now, yelling her reply from the back room.

"Oh I'm sure that would turn out just lovely. Unfortunately, I rather enjoy having money in the bank and the damn rent being paid."

"I said you could." Victoria lined the gallons up in their refrigerators, huffing a bit. "I did not say it would turn out lovely, which I can say from the personal experience of telling a slimy douchebag to f off and being fired from my last job."

Imelda burst out laughing. "That's probably the best thing I've ever heard. Anyway, you see my point." She flipped the sign on the door. "As much as I appreciate the investment in my romantic and lack of a sex life," she gestured toward the door of the café, "we've got caffeine to serve. Allow the thundering herd to . . ." a conducting gesture was inserted, "commence."

The morning rush flew by, a blur of steamed milk, far-too-sticky pastries, and, thank the lord, caffeine. Coffee Cacophony was situated right along the most used route for business commuters in the weekday mornings, a fact that Imelda was sure was taken into account when the café had opened. She, for her part, turned into somewhat of a whirling dervish between six and nine every morning, pumping out lattes and mochas, trying to explain that a no-foam cappuccino can't exist or be served, and then forcing it to exist and be served anyway. She had learned long ago that there was little point in having that argument or pretty much any other with most of the morning coffee customers, so she and Tor simply made what was asked and more than likely complained to each other about it later.

The café had cleared out by nine thirty am, most of their morning base already snugly behind their desks by that point. Imelda let out a sigh and held her arms out in front of her, pursing her lips at the mosaic of coffee splatters and syrup sugar that adorned them at the moment.

"Go take a break, girl," Victoria offered. "I can handle it for a few minutes."

"You're a lifesaver," Imelda ducked into the backroom with her own doppio, gulping it as she sat down and pulled out her phone.

There was just one message.

Underway.

Shit.