Finding pizza in New York is easy. You'll probably see a different Pizzeria every few blocks or so. Recipes and styles range everywhere from good 'ole fashioned New York style thin crust, to Chicago Deep Dish, to uber healthy, California style, gluten free vegan. You name it…you can probably find it. But finding a place that sells the "best" pizza is a little more of a challenge.

To me, the best pizzas involve a thin crust, extra sauce, stringy cheese, and just the right mix of veggies and meat. But to make it a killer pizza…I mean, one you'd drive through rush hour traffic to get…it's all about the baking. And I don't care what anyone says – the fanciest, most expensive pizza oven can't hold a candle to a plain and simple wood fire oven.

Now, I've been lucky enough to find such a place…and even luckier for me is the fact that it's only about a block and a half from the T.C.R.I (Techno Cosmic Research Institute) labs where I work. It's definitely a "diamond in the rough" as far as I'm concerned, but, that being said, one must remember that even the most beautiful of diamonds can be a little…different.

My favorite little hole-in-the-wall eatery is an unassuming place simply called "Pop's Pizza". At first glance, it's just another run down pizza joint that used to be a small diner or deli. It sits smack dab in the middle of the block between a used clothing store and a small shop apparently owned by a local "starving artist" that never seems to be open (Maybe he starved to death already? Who knows?). The man who runs it, Mr. Yamaoka (or "Pops" as he prefers to be called) is an unassuming old Japanese fellow with sharp, dark eyes, a short, white goatee, and one hell of a sense of humor. At 5'3" he's shorter than me, but while he may be short in stature, he more than makes up for it in attitude.

I'm sure some of you are thinking at this point that the "different" part about Pop's pizza shop is Pop's himself…but that's where you'd be wrong. The truly "different" part of Pop's pizza is what he serves along with the Pizza.

If you look closely at his small menu board that hangs unassumingly above the front counter, you'll see that, other than pizza, the only other thing on Pop's menu is what makes his shop so "different". It's also what makes it so special. Beside the listing of pizzas and topping options is a list of the most amazing and authentic Sushi rolls and Sashimi in the entire city of New York.

No…it's not a typo. I really did say Sushi.

Pizza and Sushi are a crazy combination, but when you've pulled a 12 hour run at work and still have to study for your Physiology II exam, it's actually a pretty tasty late night snack.

Needless to say, "Pop's Pizza" has become a hangout of mine – a place to study, relax after a long day at work (and I have A LOT of those), and enjoy a bit of genuine human interaction. That human interaction is normally just Pop's telling about any interesting customers or orders he's had lately, or helping me learn some basic Japanese…but still, it's something. Considering I have no family to visit nearby, Pops has become like a Grandpa I never knew I had. And with no real time for socializing (with the few, and I do stress, few friends I have) between work and taking classes at NYU so I can get my Master's degree in Veterinary science, spending time with him helps me decompress a bit before going home. And believe me, if I didn't decompress a little bit, I'm sure I'd drive my roommate, a gorgeous black cat named Seras, completely insane.

So when I stepped through the door of "Pop's Pizza" that fateful late summer night, I had no idea what lay in store for me. My only concern was filling my growling stomach with a mushroom and black olive personal pizza and a spicy tuna sushi roll.

The bell jingled softly as I opened the front door, and the wonderful smell of pizza and nori filled my nostrils.

"It's me Pops!" I called out in Japanese as I walked up to the counter and grabbed a "to-go" cup and a straw. I slid over to the soda machine to my right, added a little ice to my cup, and bypassed the soda for the container of honey-sweetened iced green tea. I filled my cup, took a long drink through my straw, and quickly refilled what I had drained from the cup.

I reached for a plastic lid and was just fitting it over the top of my cup, when I heard the ruffle of cloth and a raspy old voice in Japanese say, "I hope you are going to pay for that."

I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped as I turned around and smiled warmly at the aged yet intimidating gentleman behind the counter. His eyes were dark and sharp, focused in on my still grinning face. His receding white hair was perfectly straight, pulled back in a short white ponytail behind his head. His matching white beard and goatee were equally straight, flowing like a small white waterfall around his upper lips and down about an inch past his chin. His dark blue Kimono top and matching black pants were crisp and clean, and seemed to make his snow white hair stand out even more. His frame was thin but extremely fit for a 68 year old man, and as he walked out from behind the counter with his solid mahogany cane in hand and a disapproving frown on his face I almost choked on my tea. Wow, I thought with a shiver, he looks pissed.

Setting my cup down on the counter by the soda machine, I bowed low and respectfully, and did my best to reply in Japanese, "Yes Mr. Yamaoka. I meant no disrespect."

His frown remained, but a small glint in his eyes told me he wasn't really angry. "How many times have I told you, onna no ko? You must call me Pops."

"Hai, Pops," I replied, the smile quickly returning to my face as I reached for my tea and stepped forward to take a seat at the small table beside the counter. I pulled the small, rickety chair out, turned it around, and plopped down with a sigh. Then, after taking another sip of tea, I glanced at Pops and raised a curious eyebrow.

"So…what's got you so upset? Did you have another customer skip out and not pay?"

Pops remained silent for a moment, then released a heavy sigh that seemed to drain the tension from his face. He glanced at me and nodded, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You should eat first…then we will talk."

He tapped his cane on the floor and disappeared into the kitchen, remaining there for only a minute or two before returning with two small plates. He set them down in front of me and I couldn't help but smile as I took in the sights and smells of a fresh slice of mushroom and black olive pizza and an expertly prepared spicy tuna roll. After taking a few deep breaths, I smiled and bowed my head.

"Arigato Pops…you really are too good to me."

Pops bowed his head slightly in return, then winked at me and smiled. He took a step toward the chair across from me, then stopped short as the phone behind the counter began to ring. Tapping his cane once on the floor, he turned instead and stepped behind the counter, picking up the phone on the third ring.

"Pop's Pizza."

There was a pause.

"Yes."

Another pause.

"Yes."

Another, longer pause.

"Anything else?"

A short pause.

"Ok. That should be ready in about 20 minutes. Thank you."

As Pops hung up the phone, he turned to me. The expression on his face was quizzical…a mixture of confusion and amusement.

I stared at him for a moment, then said, after swallowing a piece of sushi, "You get an interesting one?"

Pops nodded. "Indeed…maybe the most interesting yet."

I jumped up, chomping a bite of pizza. "I'll help you cook. What's the order?"

"You will do no such thing, onna no ko," Pops replied with a sharp tap of his cane on the ground. "You will sit and eat…and watch for the customer." He paused, gazing curiously toward the doorway. "I am sure he will be an interesting fellow."

I took a sip of tea and raised a curious eyebrow. "What did he order, Pops?"

He turned and started toward the kitchen, but raised his voice to answer me, "4 extra-large pizzas…one Hawaiian, one Supreme, one all-Meat, and one Veggie…." He trailed off as he entered the kitchen doorway, then turned a sly smile in my direction. "…and one deluxe Sushi platter."

With that, he disappeared behind the dragon-decorated cloth curtain and I began to hear the clatter of pans and the other usual sounds that come from a busy kitchen. Pops could put a pizza together faster than anyone I knew, and he was a trained Sushi artisan, but 4 pizzas and a full Sushi platter was a lot to get ready in just 20 minutes. I got out of my chair and looked toward the kitchen, debating whether or not to obey Pops order. Then, shaking my head, I decided not to push my luck, so I pushed my plates to the other side of the table, fixed the chair I'd flipped around, and proceeded to seat myself on the opposite side of the table so I had a clear view of the front door.

I took another bite of pizza and listened absentmindedly to the sounds of Pops in the kitchen. My mind began to wander to a few projects I had going on at work, then back around to a paper on Reptilian neurologic responses I was working on for school. So much time and so little to do, I sighed to myself sarcastically as I took another bite of pizza. Oh well….

A sudden flash of light outside snapped me back to reality. It was followed seconds later by the growling of thunder, and with a groan I realized I would probably be riding home in the rain. Considering I only live about 10 blocks from where I work, the only vehicle I own is a motorcycle. It's fuel efficient, fun to ride, and a hell of a lot easier to find a parking space for in New York than a car. The only drawback is the weather – when it rains, you get wet…and when it snows, you either walk, or take a cab.

You gotta love life in the big city.

Another bright flash of lightning was followed by an even quicker and louder crack of thunder, and as I popped another piece of sushi into my mouth I pulled out my smartphone and checked the weather radar. I groaned both inwardly and audibly as the weather app on my phone showed a large swath of dark green, yellow, and even a little red heading right for us.

Turning my head slightly, I called toward the kitchen area, "Hey Pops…we've got a storm heading our way."

The kitchen had quieted a bit, and Pops suddenly stuck his head out from behind the cloth curtain. "Very bad?"

I shook my head. "Nah…it shouldn't be too bad."

Just as the words left my lips, the wind kicked up enough for us to hear it howl against the outside of the building. Then another flash of lightning was followed by an almost immediate crack of thunder, making the floor beneath our feet vibrate ever so slightly.

I sighed as I turned to Pops. "Or…I could be wrong. Either way, Seras is probably freaking out by now." I frowned, imagining my beautiful black cat hiding under the covers of my queen-sized bed. "Poor kitten cat."

Pops nodded in solemn agreement as he watched through the front glass window. Then suddenly I noticed his eyes narrow and he fiercely smacked the end of his cane on the surface of the old, wooden floor. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I hesitated to turn toward the front door. Without looking at me, Pops ominous voice reached my ears just as I heard the bell ring and the front door open with a howl of wind.

"The Storm is here."

Trying to appear casual, I turned in my chair toward the front door, at the same time sliding my right hand behind me to reassure myself of the presence of the small 22 cal. pistol I carried concealed in the holster at the small of my back. Feeling the cold steel gave me an ever so brief sense of security. Unfortunately that was quickly washed away by the strange sight my eyes beheld standing in the doorway.

Before us stood a large human form, completely concealed behind what was easily the biggest tan trench coat I'd ever seen. A plaid scarf in similar tan and brown colors and dark sunglasses covered the face, while a matching brown fedora made sure any distinguishing features were completely indistinguishable. The hands were covered in bandages, wrapped like they were the hands of a burn victim while the legs were covered in dark brown pants which led down to extremely large and worn black boots.

For a moment, I couldn't help but stare – I wasn't meaning to be rude, but it's not every day you see a person nearly as big as a grizzly bear. But a quick flash of lightning and a crack of thunder woke me from my trance as Pops regarded the man with a very business-like tone.

"May I help you, sir?"

The wind howled woefully outside as the man simply stared at Pops for a moment. Then, in a voice that was deep and sharp, he replied, "I'm here for my order."

"Hai. One moment," Pops replied as he tapped his cane on the floor. He glanced at me before turning toward the kitchen and said, in Japanese, "Be careful, child."

I nodded, and watched him disappear into the kitchen. Then I turned back to the stranger and nodded toward the door, trying to make polite conversation. "That's one heck of a storm brewing outside, huh?"

I searched for anything around his face that might give away some sort of expression or clue to his features, but he was too well covered for me to pick out anything. His only response to me was a grunt as he shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. He kept his hands at his side, but flexed them once, something that seemed to be more of an uncomfortable reaction than anything else. The way he moved them made me think they weren't injured, and that made me question even more why his hands were wrapped as they were. I decided to try my luck and see if I could figure him out with a bit more conversation.

"I've never seen you in here before. Are you new to the neighborhood?"

A stare was my only response.

I decided to return the stare, more out of a growing curiosity than the annoyance I should've been feeling. I watched him again shift his weight and flex his right hand, then for just a second his head twitched slightly to one side. He's nervous, I thought, letting my eyes drift off him to the glass window behind him. I could see our reflections in the window, and the reflection of the kitchen doorway through which I could hear Pops boxing up the pizzas. I used the reflection to survey the strangers back, trying to see the outline of any weapons he may be carrying under his coat. I couldn't make out anything, but I noticed that my gaze had caught his attention. His head turned to the side ever so slightly, like a puppy that's not quite sure what it's looking at. Then he took several huge steps toward me, his head straightening as his gaze locked in on mine.

Slightly surprised, I couldn't help but return the reaction, my head tilting ever so slightly as I realized that the sunglasses he was wearing actually had small holes in the dark lenses. Behind them I could barely make out a pair of amber colored eyes, and they instinctively peaked my interest. They reminded me of a wolf's eyes – a powerful and intimidating gaze that can look right through you. Yet there was something about them…something curious…something I very much wanted to understand.

Suddenly he froze and dropped his gaze as the familiar sound of Pops mahogany cane rapped the wooden floor behind me. I jumped slightly and dropped my gaze as well, then turned my head toward Pops.

He calmly set 4 large pizza boxes down on the counter to my left, all the while staring with narrowed eyes at our visitor. He looked to me as he turned, apparently to return to the kitchen for the sushi, and said, in Japanese, "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, also in Japanese.

This caused our stranger to look first from Pops, then to me, and then back to Pops. Now that he was closer and I could see his eyes a little clearer, I noticed in them what looked like frustration, confusion, or maybe a bit of both. He clenched his hand again, as if he were missing something in his grip, then grumbled softly as he stepped up to the counter where the pizzas were.

With him standing nearly beside me now, I could definitely appreciate how large he was. He turned his head slightly towards me and regarded me again with those strange, amber eyes, and I found myself unable to keep my mouth shut.

"I'm Tessa…but you can call me Tess," I said, smiling softly and extending my hand. "What's your name?"

I swear I saw him flinch as I extended my hand toward him. He glanced down at it for a moment, then focused those amber eyes back on mine. For a moment we just stared at each other, both of us equally curious about the other. Then he finally turned back toward the pizzas and slid a hand toward one of his pocket.

At this point, my smile vanished and I felt myself instantly tense, quickly dropping the hand I'd offered in friendship toward my lower right side. I've only had to pull my gun once, and the sight of it had been enough to scare the daylights out of the punk who'd thought he could get the better of this "little girl". I didn't want to pull now, especially in Pop's shop, but I was afraid this amber-eyed stranger wasn't going to give me a choice.

The stranger noticed my movement, and his reaction was so quick and fluid it unnerved me. He instantly moved his body so that he was literally standing over top of me, and quietly brought one of his wrapped hands down on the edge of the table in front of me, blocking my right arm from doing anything but staying at my side. He turned his piercing eyes to meet mine and whispered, "Don't. I swear I'm just here for the food."

I wish I could've hid the look of surprise that showed on my face, but it truly was unnerving how quickly and silently he'd moved. I looked up at him and searched his eyes, looking for the same hint of honestly that his voice had betrayed. Finally, I nodded my head slightly and exhaled, dropping my eyes from his intense stare. As I did so, he lifted himself to his full height and removed his hand from the table. As he stepped quietly back over to the counter, I glanced up at him.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, barely above a whisper. "I meant no disrespect."

He turned his head toward me, regarding me with slightly narrowed eyes. Seeing this, I sighed heavily and turned my eyes toward the kitchen. "I really am sorry…"I paused, my voice trailing off as my eyes turned from the kitchen where Pops was still working to the stranger. "He's like family…and you never know who's going to walk through that door." I shrugged, smiling apologetically. "I guess I'm just a little over-protective."

At this, the strangers eyes softened a bit, returning to the more curious gaze he'd given me before. With a small nod he grunted, "No problem," and quickly began rifling through the pocket of his trench coat. I watched as his hand came away with nothing more than a wad of crumpled bills which he dropped on the counter and began clumsily sorting through. He was almost finished when Pops finally returned from the kitchen with a beautifully wrapped box of sushi. Setting it down delicately on the counter, he eyed the stranger for a moment before stepping over to the cash register and tapping a few keys.

After a moment, he looked up and calmly said, "That will be $64.50"

The stranger paused, looking down at the bills on the counter in front of him. Methodically he moved the bills into one pile, then paused, and seemingly counted them a second time. Again he paused after counting, and I noticed his head drop slightly and what sounded like the words "Dammit Mikey," escape from somewhere beneath his scarf.

I glanced at Pops, who in turn, glanced at me. Shrugging slightly, I decided to intervene.

"Are you a little short?" I asked calmly, at the same time reaching into my back pocket for my wallet.

Immediately those amber eyes turned to me, and I could read the frustrated gaze despite the black sunglasses covering the area surrounding his eyes. For a moment he just stared at me, then he turned back toward the pile of bills and shoved it toward Pops.

"Is this enough for 3 pizzas and the sushi?" His deep voice was low and gruff, but there was something humble in his tone. He kept his head bowed and refused to look Pops in the eyes, and I watched silently as Pops looked first at the money on the counter, and then at the stranger.

Unable to contain myself, I stood up beside the stranger and looked at the money on the counter. This brought a strange look from Pops and a quick glance from the stranger, who actually took a step back from me. I nodded to Pops and mumbled, "It's ok," in Japanese, then glanced at the stranger and met his amber eyes with a bashful smile.

Looking back toward the counter, there seemed to be about $50, give or take, so I fished a $20 out of my wallet and added it to the pile.

"No worries…I'll take care of the rest." My smile diminished a bit as I sheepishly added, "It's the least I can do."

This got a strange look from Pops, and he spoke softly in Japanese, "Child, what did you do?"

I winked at Pops and shook my head, then reached across the counter for the pizza boxes. They were heavier than I expected (Pops must have gone the extra mile on the toppings), but I smiled over them at the stranger and said, "If you grab the sushi, I'll help you out to your car."

The strangers look went from confusion to shock as he glanced from me, to Pops, to the money on the counter, and finally back to me. Then, sighing heavily, I watched as he rolled his amber eyes in annoyance and reached out to take the pizza boxes from me.

"I've got it. Just set the sushi on top…please."

I couldn't stop him from easily taking the pizzas from my hands, but with a sly grin I grabbed the beautiful box of sushi and shook my head.

"No way. The pizzas will make the sushi warm…and everyone knows you can't have warm sushi!" I turned to give Pops a quick wink, then started toward the front door. "Come on," I called back over my shoulder. "If we hurry you may not get rained on."