Disclaimer: I do not own or rent Sailor Moon or any associated characters.

One Very Long AN: I've been going to every decent coffee place in town and reading lots of Italian barista instructional books to gain a better knowledge of coffee technique. It's all very interesting! I will also be trying to write longer chapters. My usual writing style tends to consist of several short pieces so it will be a fun challenge.

On another note, updates are going to start slowing down now that I'm back in school. Hopefully the longer chapters will make up for it. I'm sure there are plenty of errors in this chapter, by the way: so please point them out!

Finally. I have published the first of my "Espresso Shorts". These will be one-shot, drabbles that take place in the Coffee Princess universe. You can find them under that title in my Profile.

Coffee Princess

Fifth Cup

Normally when someone reached out to shake his hand, Mamoru did his best to return the greeting with confidence. Maybe it was the fact that a very intimidating woman was standing in front of him, or perhaps it was the discomfort of his press-on nails but this time was different. Inwardly he cringed at the dead-fish handshake he gave his potential boss. It was bad enough that he had to pretend to be a woman for the sake of his job. This costume seemed to have taken on a life of its own and he didn't recognize his own voice as he introduced himself. It was weak, wavering, afraid.

"Nice to meet you, Kino-san. I'm Mamoru Chiba. I would love to work here. I…"

"Let's cut the formalities, yeah?" Said the tall woman, "I'm not looking for any HoshiBucks rejects. I want Coffee Princess to be known for selling the best coffee around and that means having the best baristas. Do you think you're up for it?"

She was blunt, if nothing else. There was such intensity about her and in the way that she looked at him. Immediately all the confidence he'd managed to save despite his foray into gender swapping was gone. Nodding to the affirmative, Mamoru handed over his résumé. He had known better than to list his construction jobs; but had made detailed note of every cart, stand and mall-kiosk coffee establishment he had worked at. None of it was impressive, he knew, but he was hoping that he'd be given a chance to prove himself.

"I know it's a little empty..." He started to say, before he was cut off. "I don't really care about the résumé." Makoto moved her chair to face him, looking him dead in the eyes with a bemused expression. "You said you'd love to work here. Why?"

Because of an angel.

"Coffee is my life." He was surprised to find himself biting his lower lip. His brain didn't seem willing to cooperate with the inquisition. It was a miracle he hadn't run out of the establishment screaming. "Really? How so?"

She made my heart feel something…

"Nothing has ever captured my heart like a well made cup of coffee." There was a lingering smell of it in the air and it gave him strength. Gathering up his courage, he tried his best to explain himself. "It makes me feel safe and happy." A pause. The next part was something he'd never said out loud, though he knew it was true. "It's all I have left of my family now."

She made me feel safe and happy...

He could have sworn there was a spark of recognition in Makoto's eyes. There was now sympathy mixed in with the skepticism. If he was going to explain away the emptiness of his résumé now was the time.

"There's not much there." He began again, motioning to the piece of paper. "But I make a great cup. I know the works of it, the soul of coffee." A strange emotion was welling up in his throat and he had to stop and gather his wits. But Makoto gave him no chance to continue.

"I'd much rather see for myself what you can do." The résumé was placed back onto the table without so much as a second glance. She stood and motioned for him to follow. "Come on then."

He felt a little silly in the frilly pink apron, but the sight of a state of the art espresso machine eliminated all such thoughts.

"Make something." Makoto said. It was a sudden, simple and unexpected command. Mamoru hesitated. In the back of his mind he knew that this was his one chance. If he chose the wrong drink, it would all be over. He took his sweet time deciding before he begun.

Ignoring the selection of pre-ground espresso beans, Mamoru selected a cupful of whole ones. He began as usual, putting them through the coffee-bean grinder and he could feel Makoto's critical eye on his back. In the middle of the grinding process he stopped the machine and took out the choppy grinds. He had noticed the long forgotten Peugeot grinder instantly and had decided to make use of it. Slowly he turned the handle and stopped just short of completely grinding the beans by hand. He knew that the key to what he was about to prepare was that the beans be ground precisely, evenly and to perfection.

Carefully he returned the espresso grounds to the automatic grinder and grabbed the porta-filter. He deftly wiped it with a clean cloth before holding it under the hopper. Pulling the lever back and forth, he watched the grinds fluttering down neatly until the filter was full. With his arm and wrist straight he used the tamper to apply delicate pressure to the coffee grinds. After a second he twisted the tamper slowly, almost sensually until he was satisfied with the results.

He repeated this process three more times, each shot made with the same meticulous care. His arm was becoming sore from the tedious process and the nerves were getting to him. The first shot of espresso was immediately discarded. The two remaining shots were poured into a cup and topped off with a dollop of milk foam. A touch of nutmeg later he was finished.

It was perfect, he decided. The drink itself was nothing special, but it involved all the most important parts of making a good espresso. The foam and nutmeg were a sweet, girly touches: he was supposed to be a girl, after all. Technique, creativity and a girlish touch. If those weren't the qualities of a Coffee Princess then which were? Struggling to keep his hand steady, he handed the rich Macchiato to Makoto.

If he had taken his sweet time deciding what to make, she took her sweet time figuring out what to do with it. The cup was still in her hand as she walked around the room and inspected everything he had used. A critical eye was then sent to the rim of the cup and she appeared to wipe something off the rim. One unpolished nail was dipped into the espresso and pulled back hastily. Finally, she took a sip…and said nothing.

Years went by. Well, maybe not years but a good 10 minutes. In that time his angel walked out of the bathroom and breezed past the two. She gave him a friendly wink and in an automatic response he smiled back. The bell rang as the blonde left the building but still Makoto said nothing.

She was floored. That had to be it. He had made something so perfect that she couldn't find the words to describe it. His false breasts rose as he puffed up his chest with unabashed pride. Too long! He needed to hear the praise. He couldn't stand the maddening silence a second longer.

"Well?" He asked.

"You ground the beans too finely." She stated flatly. "As a result the espresso was not nearly as strong as it should have been." She shot a glance towards the espresso machine. "Your second shot took 33 seconds to pull, not 25. You waited too long with the third shot and let some of the over-extracted espresso to fall into the cup." Mamoru couldn't stop his mouth from gaping open as she went on. "You left the cup too close to the grinding machine and there were bits of espresso beans on the rim." He wanted to die. "You forgot to warm the cup before pouring the shots in and as a result the extraction suffered even more. And the crema on this is way too thin." Dying in a thick layer of crema would have been a welcome fate.

The angel was a lie. Maybe she was even a bad-luck demon in disguise. He'd blown it. His life as he knew it was over. Not only would he die a miserable bum on the streets; he would die a miserable bum who couldn't even pull a proper shot, on the streets.

"I..I'm sorry." His voice was soft as he tucked his chin into his chest. He wasn't sure what disappointed him more; the lost job or his lost angel. "I wasted your time." Absently he reached a manicured hand up to rub away the uncharacteristic tears. He could feel his mascara running and was only slightly amused at the thought that his makeup was ruined. The black smudges on his palm reminded him of his mood. Not wanting to embarrass himself further he took off the apron and began to exit. "I'll see myself out."

"You're hired."

Maybe his angel was looking out for him after all.

"You're such a ditz, Usagi!"

Minako stared at the ruined costume in disgust. "They couldn't even clean this gunk off! They're dry cleaners! They're professionals! What did you do?!"

Usagi twirled a pigtail around her fingers as she shrugged in reply to her cousin's ranting. "A little roadwork that's all!" She decided not to mention the involvement of an extremely cute guy.

"Angels are supposed to be graceful you know!" Minako tossed the white material into the trash before digging up a similar material from her fabric collection. "You'd better not mess this one up!" Ignoring the scolding glare Minako was giving her, Usagi threw her arms around the other blonde.

"Oh thank you so much! I'll be an absolute angel with this one! I promise!"

AN: Your reviews are inspiration for all my perspiration!