Disclaimer: All characters and references to Tortall are property of TamoraPierce.

goldeneyedwildmage: Thanks for the advice. Will do.

Coffee

Living in New York City alone was dangerous, let alone expensive. Luckily for Daine Sanderson her landlady loved her and she had a group of tight-knit friends who barely gave her time alone to breathe, let alone to get into any kind of trouble. She had moved to the city long after her parents split up. Her mother had gone through a series of new boyfriend's, the most recent of which had been too much for Daine to deal with so as soon as she was eighteen she had told her mother she was leaving and hadn't really looked back. That had been over a year ago. She still kept in contact with her father but phone calls from her mother were less than sporadic. Daine hadn't minded terribly, too often it felt like she was a walking cliché and it was especially hard to dismiss the feeling when she had to go through the tribulations of family drama.

Presently, Daine was padding out of her bedroom into the area which served as her kitchen and living area. Despite the statement she had just made, strange dreams had become somewhat of a regular occurrence. So much so that at the recommendation of a friend she had begun to keep a 'dream journal'. Admittedly, Daine had snorted at the idea at first but her friend had then suggested that she "see a shrink" at which Daine had immediately embraced the idea of a journal. Dreams are the result of the subconscious trying to tell the consciousness something. In order to understand dreams, you've got to piece together the images – like a jigsaw. Daine had thought to herself reasonably. Daine almost laughed at herself, she had taken psychology in her senior year and failed it. Her teacher had complained that she didn't have the depth of imagination needed to understand Freud. In other words, her way of thinking was too practical.

If only he could see me now, she thought with a wry grin.

Flipping the pages of the leather bound Memorandum that served as her journal; she skimmed over her last entry with an odd feeling bubbling inside her. It detailed how she – no, Veralidaine Sarrasri – she corrected herself had spent the autumn of her thirteenth year. Daine almost recognised the odd feeling bubbling inside her; it was apprehension or anticipation. It came sometimes on days like this directly in relation to the dreams she had been having. She examined the feeling closer. It wasn't so much the content of the dreams that was disturbing (although the most recent one had definitely unnerved her) as the consistency of them. They were all about a girl called Daine Sarrasri, or rather about her as Daine Sarrasri and her life growing up in Galla with her mother. That might not be so strange, it could be attributed to an overactive imagination, however the realness and the clarity in them was remarkable.

Most people dreamt in blurred colours and slurred images that came randomly or parodied books they'd read or movies they'd seen. Daine had never even heard of 'Galla' (until a month ago when the dreams started) and yet despite this she seemed to be being offered glimpses into this girls life, events that were getting closer and closer together, perhaps honing in on a precise moment or event that catalysed the dreams in the first place. Daine didn't know: all she knew was that they were a lot more frequent as of late and were beginning to cause her to question her own sanity.

Grabbing a pen, Daine jotted down the events of her most recent dream, trying to stay as analytical as possible. Regardless of her best intentions, Daine found that by the time she had finished, she was shivering. The memory of sitting beside the body of 'her mother', burying the bodies of her entire family, then the pleasurable thrill that came with the prospect of a hunt were too fresh in her mind. In fact, even thinking about it brought every sensation back, the most prominent of which being that strong thirst for blood that just refused to be slaked – Daine dropped her pen. Haltingly, she backed away from the journal like it was a poisonous snake. Maybe she was losing it.

She needed to calm down. Shakily, she made herself head for her kitchen cabinet to hunt down some instant coffee. Needless to say when she found an empty jar she was less than pleased. She closed her eyes, putting a hand to her pounding head. It's OK, she told herself. I'll take a hot shower, get dressed, leave early and pick up some more coffee on the way to work. Now that she had a course of action the pragmatic side of her took over, dismissing all thoughts of dreams and madness to be dealt with later.

After having taken a shower, she pulled out her normal work clothes; a blue shirt with black pants. After having put them on, she briefly glanced in the mirror. Blue-grey eyes stared back at her with opposite and equal intensity. I am Daine Sanderson. She told herself firmly. A quick check to see that her brown curls weren't frizzed up and she was out of the door (she never had been the type to apply make-up).

Although the sun was out, the early morning weather could be considered chilly. Despite this, Daine had opted against a jacket; she always walked briskly and soon found that she was perfectly comfortable. Taking a short cut through a public garden she quickly became lost in her thoughts again. Another puzzling thing about her strange dreams was the pace of them. When they had started she had been viewing years of Daine Sarrasri's life at a time, recently though they had begun to slow down and become more focused. Almost as if something so important at this point of her life – no Sarrasri's life – had happened that her subconscious was trying to call special attention to it.

Daine was jerked out of her reverie by the realisation that she had reached the store and was standing in front of the doorway standing absolutely still. All notions of how she had got there already or how much time had passed presently eluded her. Just three words kept spiralling around in her head; what the hell? Worse, she suddenly noticed a shadow above hers on the shop door.

The voice that came from directly behind her was enough to summon a blush in her cheeks. "It's a very attractive door but if you were considering opening it any time in the next hour I'm sure I could stand to be early to work for the first time this week. Just a thought." The voice was male, and although he spoke wryly his voice was kind, warm and slightly hesitant.

Still blushing, Daine threw a hasty "Sorry" over her shoulder, catching a brief glance of a crisp white shirt and wide shoulders before pushing the door open and rushing into the store. Walking to her aisle she shook her head at her own folly. She had spaced out – something she had never done before these odd dreams had started. Maybe she should see a shrink. Sighing, she picked up some instant coffee, hoping she wouldn't do anything else to embarrass herself today.

Trying to keep track of her thoughts she joined the queue that was nearest to her. The girl sighed as she realised that the woman at the front of the queue was causing a ruckus about the price of kitchen towels which meant that this would take some time. Idly, she turned around, watching as a man who looked to be in his late twenties stepped in line behind her. He was tanned; tall with dark hair swept into a pony tail and a…white shirt. Damn, Daine thought as she realised that this must have been the man she had nearly become comatose in front of earlier. The man noticed her staring at him and flashed her a quick smile.

Daine felt herself blush again as she turned around, now the man must think her a complete space-case. She took comfort in the fact that she would in all likelihood never see him again.

Finally stepping up to the counter she watched as the bored-looking sales assistant scanned her item.

"Two-twenty." The woman announced.

Daine frowned. Damned inflation. She rummaged around in her purse and came out with two bucks. Cursing inwardly she wondered if the heavens were intent on making her look like an idiot on that particular day. Handing the lady the two dollars she kept searching, becoming increasingly aware of line behind her and her own flushed expression. "I know I've got it some-"

"Here." The swarthy man behind her was holding out twenty cense. She glanced at him, he was more attractive than he had appeared at first glance. His eyes were dark and sensitive. He had a full mouth, a long nose and a kindness about him. He reminded her of a teacher she had had before moving out to New York. The man had especially been there for her during the rough transition of her parents' divorce. Like her old teacher, this man was the kind of person Daine would have preferred to meet under equal terms.

Realising something, she dug into her pockets and came out with the remaining money triumphantly. Finally purchasing her item she turned to the tall man. "Thanks anyway."

The man smiled pleasantly and nodded. His white teeth were straight; Daine was sure he must wear a retainer at night. "No problem."

Leaving the store Daine made her way down the walk to a crossing and checked the time. It was still way too early to be at work. She decided to take another walk and headed towards the public garden she had walked through earlier. Sometimes she found that being submerged in nature had more of a restorative effect on her than a full night's sleep. Her mother had once acridly told her that that was because she was born in a zoo. That had been after a particularly bad argument over the woman's latest beau.

Reaching a set of traffic lights Daine stopped dead. There he was again. The same man she had refused money from in the store. Not such a coincidence as she had effectively just circled the block but one tended to forget such things when faced with someone they had just embarrassed themselves in front of. He was coming towards her; about to cross the road.

Loud reggae music blared in the background; distracting her train of thought. A red convertible was speeding down the road. The man seemed distracted too. He was walking as if completely preoccupied. So preoccupied that he seemed not to notice the "Don't walk" sign that was lit up as he set foot onto the road. Daine noticed all this with widening eyes.

Maybe it was the caffeine deprivation or the odd dreams, or the complete surreal nature of the morning she had been having. Either way Daine reacted in a way she probably wouldn't have on any other day.

"STOP!" She yelled. Neither the man nor the occupants of the red convertible noticed. Of course, this was New York; people shouted things all the time. She dropped her bag, her legs were moving before she had time to register what she was doing, her feet pounded against the asphalt.

She was barely aware as she slammed, bodily into the tall man. They both practically flew back onto the pavement just as the convertible sped past. They did not hit the floor, but rolled several feet before coming to a panting stop.

Coming back to herself, Daine began hyperventilating as she realised what she had just done. Who the hell do I think I am? Lara Croft? Realising that she was lying on top of the man, her head buried in his chest, she placed her palms to either side of him and pushed herself up shakily to see if he was alright. Her brown curls spilled onto his broad shoulder.

After a moment, intense black eyes blinked up at her and she sighed, relieved. He seemed to be searching for words.

"Thanks," He said finally, his voice hoarse.

Daine was still breathing hard, adrenaline still coursing through her. "No problem." She returned. She noticed his chest was heaving too.

The man winced "Ow." he said eruditely, in a delayed reaction to the pain.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to shove you so hard-"

"No, by all means. Whenever you see me walking out into a moving vehicle feel free to hit me with a sledgehammer if it helps. It's just- your knees are digging into my legs."

"Oh!" Idiot! You're still on top of him. Daine rolled away allowing the man to stand up. He did so slowly, but she was glad to see that there seemed to be no damage. He offered her a hand courteously.

She smiled, taking it. "And here I thought chivalry was dead."

The man chuckled, pulling her to her feet. He held on to her hand for a moment longer. His palm was warm and slightly calloused. He swept her an elaborate bow that elicited a giggle. His voice had a trace of an accent; she suspected he was Canadian. "Adam Draper." His expression turned serious. "If it weren't for you I might be dead."

"Daine Sanderson." And because she had to know, "What exactly was it that had you so distracted that you didn't notice that car…or the traffic light…or me shouting 'stop!'?"

Adam looked embarrassed. It was a pleasant turnaround for Daine. "Work" he admitted.

"You must be devoted." She remarked.

"Inescapably."

"What do you do?"

He seemed not to have heard her. He was looking at something behind her and Daine wondered if he had somewhere to be. Then his attention was back on her. "I'd love to talk about that with you- but perhaps over a cup of coffee? That is…unless you have somewhere to be?"

Daine hesitated. She was not in the habit of having coffee with complete strangers and he looked to be about a decade older than her. But then, she was not in the habit of jumping out into the road to save complete strangers either.

Adam noticed her hesitation. "Or I could buy you some instant coffee- to replace the one you just bought?"

Daine glanced behind her noticing the remnants of the bottle she had just purchased scattered over the sidewalk. She laughed "Fresh coffee sounds wonderful."

Adam grinned. "Great, I know a place."

Daine did not know what it was; but with each passing second spent with Adam she felt a growing sense of familiarity. It was not something that she felt immediately; she was sure she had never laid eyes on this man in her life and yet…she recognised him somehow. The feeling was intangible; and seemed to arise from miniscule observations. Not his accent so much as the pauses in between his speech – as if each word was weighed, the way his teeth flashed when he smiled, the grace with which he walked.

You really are losing it Sanderson.

Forcing herself to concentrate on what he was saying, Daine squashed the feeling.

"-and I discovered this place. It's quite a find; a peaceful little diner in the middle of the city. The food's great too."

He had stopped outside a small diner. He was right in calling it peaceful- there was practically no one inside and it didn't take a genius to know why. There was a Starbucks across the street. Daine estimated the diner would be out of business within a month.

Adam held the door open courteously. She wondered whether there was an end to his politeness, and if there was hoped it would come soon. He was trampling all over her expectations of the male species. Well, at least the good looking ones she amended. Laughing at her own prejudice she took a seat across from him.

He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What?"

"Nothing," She smiled. "It's just- you can't be from around here."

He grinned. "Why? Don't I come across as your typical red-blooded all-American beef?"

She grinned. "I'm a vegetarian."

He chuckled. "I'm Canadian, at least by birth. A quarter Spanish, half Hawaiian and I spent some time in England." He paused. "What about you? Daine isn't a very common name."

"No?"

He shook his head, weighing her with his eyes "Sounds Greek."

Her smile was slightly sardonic. "Sorry to disappoint you. My mom made a little spelling mistake when filling out my birth certificate. It was meant to be Diane." She was beginning to enjoy hearing his laugh.

"You live with your parents?"

"No. My parents split when I was thirteen." At his expression she explained, "With each other. They split-up."

Adam nodded slightly. "So you moved out here with one of them?"

"No I- wait how did you know I wasn't a New Yorker by birth?"

He shrugged. "You don't seem like the city type. You don't seem in a hurry to get anywhere. Most people here are, you know?"

That was certainly true. "I guess I'm not acclimatised yet. I moved out here by myself a year ago. I didn't get along with the company my mother kept after dad." Daine was suddenly uncomfortably aware of how much she had said. She didn't often talk so easily about her parents and she had met Adam all of twenty minutes ago. But something about his manner was soothing. And he hadn't said the customary "I'm sorry" or tried to console her in any way, just listened intently, his eyes never straying far from hers.

She was saved from having to continue that line of conversation by the waitress who came over to take their order. Daine checked her purse to make sure she had enough money on her. She was not about to let Adam pay. Looking up she noticed Adam staring at the waitress. She rolled her eyes. So at least she knew that Adam wasn't completely inhuman.

The woman was pretty and looked around Adam's age. All dark hair and big brown eyes but there was a hardness about her that made her seem slightly on the antagonistic side. For a moment, she reminded Daine of someone but she couldn't remember who, no matter how hard she stared. A niggling sensation in the back of her head enhanced the allusion.

The woman's name tag was obscured by the collar of her cream blouse. "What can I get ya?" She asked, completely oblivious of the pair's close scrutiny of her.

Daine shook herself. "A cup of coffee and a chicken sandwich please."

"And another coffee" Adam added slowly. "I thought you were a vegetarian?" He asked Daine once the waitress had left.

"I am," The girl replied. "Chickens don't count. They're dumb animals and their clucking annoys me." He shook his head. "What about you?"

"I like chickens as much as the next guy" He told her with a straight face.

She laughed, "No, I mean, your parents." Daine knew it was probably an odd question to ask considering Adam was probably close to thirty but there had been a sense of understanding in his eyes when she told him about her past. She wagered it was more than empathy.

"My father was a bit of an ass. Left my brothers and my mom when I was getting my masters."

"Oh," She said, wondering at the levity in his tone.

He grinned, and then explained, "My mom inherited some money a week later. She's living comfortably in Canada with my two siblings."

A loud crash interrupted their conversation. Their waitress had just dropped someone's order. Adam sighed. "This is a nice place, and the service is usually better."

Daine shook her head. "I don't blame her. I was a waitress for a couple of months. It's not as easy as it looks."

"I don't doubt it. What do you do now?"

"Play with animals all day."

"You're a veterinarian?"

Daine chuckled. What was it about educated people that made them think that everyone else had the same opportunities they did? Before the long line of boyfriends she had been the primary source of income for herself and her mother. It had always been a sore spot for her that she had had no time for college. "I wish. No I work in a pet store."

Daine had to chide herself for making assumptions again. Adam did not so much as blink. "Not the huge one across the park?"

"Yeah that's it. 'Rosie's'."

"That's only a few blocks from where I work."

"Let me guess…you're a stunt double for Adrian Paul?" She smiled, gesturing to his pony tail which was probably more in fashion in the early nineties.

The friendly jab was lost on him. "Actually I work at S.O.L labs in the R and D department."

"Research and Development? So, do you make cool new weapons for government officials or try to clone things?"

He laughed. "You watch too much TV." Then conspiringly, "I clone government officials so other people can test out cool new weapons on them."

She laughed "A true patriot." They both jumped at a loud beep.

"Sorry, that's me." Adam said, pulling out a cell phone. The man read his text message then sighed. He looked up regretfully. "It's the Emperor."

"What?"

"My boss. Strongly resembles that guy in Star Wars. I'm afraid I have to go, someone messed with one of my more delicate experiments."

She stood up with him, "Sure. I should be going too." Their waitress seemed to have forgotten about them in any case. She could hardly believe this was the same day that she had awoken to in a cold sweat after a disturbing dream. It had been so easy to sit here, talk and laugh with Adam she was sure she had lost track of time. Adam looked anxious. She frowned, "I'm sorry if I made you late."

The man shook his head. "You probably saved my life. And I still owe you a cup of coffee. Can I take a rain check?"

"Sure." She told him, smiling as he patted her shoulder and left. Their was an obvious intelligence about him but he had to be one of the most scatterbrained people she had ever met. He had inattentively walked out in front of a moving vehicle while thinking about work and the minute his boss contacted him he promised to buy her coffee when they hadn't exchanged numbers or anything. Daine smiled to herself, he was obviously very wrapped up in his scholarly pursuits.

Still, he was kind, warm and could make her laugh at will. She felt a touch of sadness at the realisation that they would probably never cross paths again.