A/n: Why, hello, Alex Rider fan goers :)
Because I got such a reply from my last Sabina/Alex one-shot (Los Angeles), I've been trying to think of a way to make a full story out of the idea. Whilst I was walking my way home from 6th form yesterday morning, I think I succeeded. For the record, this fic completely ignores what I wrote in the last one – as in they are totally separate and not a continuation of each other. Again, this fic also ignores the end of Snakehead, just because I didn't like it. Sabina never came back to England.
If you've got a spare couple of minutes, please press the button at the end and leave me a quick review, just 'like it' or 'don't like it' would be appreciated.
One more thing, this might be a rather confusing first chapter so let me know if there's anything you don't understand. If not, it should all come clear later on, trust me on that. Thanks for reading!

Scottsdale State

Sabina Pleasure

9 'til 7

The diner was literally buzzing with activity.

I glanced up at the clock from my position of bending over table 7. It read half past eleven. I went back to polishing the vacant tables. Today was dragging so far, I'd only started at nine but it felt like I'd been here all day already.

Looking up to see a sea of several more tables I had to clean, I sighed. Welcome to Sabina Pleasure's boring life.

Just to think about something different, I dragged my mind back to this morning. I'd had to get up at about half seven, as usual, waking up my housemate in the process.

I ventured back into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, to find him sitting up in the bed, rubbing his eyes quite fiercely. "Morning." I greeted, holding the towel securely around me with one hand and bending across the bed to give him a light kiss on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?" I asked, out of politeness – it would be rude not to after waking him up. I made my way to my dresser for some underwear.

"Mmmm." He grunted, running his fingers through his hair.

I turned, smiling down at him. He wasn't a morning person. "I'll take that as a yes, then, shall I?" I slid my pants over my skin, still staring at him from where I sat at the end of the bed.

He nodded at me, his eyes half closed. "What are you doing up this early?" He glanced at the clock. "It's only, like, ten to eight."

"Cooper, don't be stupid." I told him. "It's a Saturday and I get up this time every Saturday. I've got to work."

He stretched, groaning as he did so. "Every Saturday?" He frowned and my smile widened; his morning face what so cute. "Are you sure?"

Laughing, I threw the towel to the floor, stood and clipped my bra on. "Yes, every Saturday. You seem extra confused this morning, are you feeling ok?"

He nodded again, shaking off the duvet and pulling on some thin tracksuit bottoms. My eyes trailed him as he crossed the corridor to the bathroom. I finished dressing, eventually choosing between my choice of either my pink jersey or a plain navy t-shirt. My work didn't have a strict uniform; they didn't have the correct staff count to warrant one. We had to wear a basic top and, usually, jeans or 'comfortable' trousers. The summer had arrived, however, so we were allowed to wear shorter bottoms. I chose the t-shirt and hauled on a pair of knee length jeans. These were quite tight to my waist – my small jeans – so I didn't bother to put a belt on. They had a small mucky coloured stain on my left leg, but, after looking myself up and down in the mirror, I decided it wouldn't matter; I'd only have to but my apron on anyway.

Picking the towel off the floor, I leant forward to catch my hair with it and threw it over my head. It would keep it clean whilst I applied my make-up. I walked to the bathroom, and, knocking first, I went in.

Cooper was staring at himself from across the sink. "One second." He said, running the cold tap and splashing his face. He towelled his face dry, sidestepping so I could get to the mirror. The bathroom wasn't huge, but it was all we could afford. He stood aside and spoke to me. "What time are you working today?"

I fought the urge to sigh; it had always annoyed me that, after working the same hours for nearly two years, he couldn't remember. I knew when he worked. I didn't want to upset him though; I had woken him up three hours before he usually surfaced, after all. "Nine to seven." I clarified. "You're in at twelve, right?"

"Mhmm," I watched him from the side of my vision as I put on my foundation and a little concealer; I'd not slept to well last night. I looked at myself, and, satisfied with my skin tone, I put on a bit of powder and applied a tiny amount of mascara.

I turned and stared at my gorgeous, absolutely knackered excuse for a boyfriend. "What do you fancy for breakfast?" I smiled, toddling towards him and grasping at his bare waist.

His deep blue eyes looked more awake as he stared steadily back at me. His face was brighter and he covered my hands with his own. "Anything you want, babe. What are you thinking?"

I laughed, his face right up to mine. "English fry-up." I replied.

He gave me a light kiss, smiling into my lips. His blonde hair fell forward and tickled my cheeks. "You know I love it when you make all your weird English food for me."

I beamed as the scene came to an end in my mind; my home life had never been quite this happy since I was about fourteen years old. Unconsciously, I checked the clock again and, unsurprisingly, it was still half eleven, but now I felt better. Cooper started at twelve; the idea brought my mood up even now.

I'd met him here, on my very first day of work. I'd got a job here because I'd been under the illusion that waitressing was easy work – for the record, it's not. He'd been working here for about six months when I'd started, and at first, we'd not got on well at all. It'd taken my working here for five months for us to bury our differences and try to get on. We'd realised what we'd both been missing out on, and now we were both incredibly happy – at least, I hoped he was as happy as I was. We'd started living together after being an item for around four months. Some of the people we worked with had found it weird since we'd not been together all that long. But it was the simplest thing to do at the time; Cooper's parents had thrown him out the previous week – he had just turned twenty three at the time and they'd decided he needed the shoot the nest, as it were. He'd been staying with me for a while before I offered that he just move in. I knew why people thought it was strange at first, but we were serious about each other and I figured: we're both adults, we talked about it and decided it was the best thing for us. He'd been my boyfriend for a year and a couple of months now and I think we're both content with the arrangement.

Cooper was very sensitive to my work – work for my degree that is. If I needed some space on my own to do something, he was happy to go out for an hour. I was taking a degree in art and design, but majoring in fashion. It's more difficult than it sounds. There was so much emphasis on the theory of art now, and that was the part I struggled most with. I spent as much time as I could manage on my work, making it the best I could, but I had to work this job to pay for my half of the apartment. That was one good thing about Cooper living with me – I only paid half my rent now. He understood that I was finding this, my third year, hard. I was hoping to graduate with a good grade and be offered a job at the end of this year. I didn't know where Cooper and I would go from there, but we'd cross that bridge when it came down to it.

My head was brought back to the present when I realised I'd cleaned all the tables. When my mind cleared, I started to process the sound of the counter bell. Someone was waiting, quite impatiently, to be served. I hurried around to the other side of the counter and pull out my order papers. I looked up to see a young man standing before me, glancing down at the menu under the glass. His short and spiky blonde hair faced me, his fit and muscular body bent over as he read. Wow. If I wasn't spoken for…

His head raised but his eyes stayed on the glass. I caught a glimpse of his upper body, towards his neck. It was thick and toned. I bet this guy didn't have trouble getting girls. "I think I'll have…" His voice trailed off as he looked up and smiled. "Sorry." His grin was lovely.

Suddenly his face shifted. His mouth fell slack as he gazed at me and his eyes widened. I blushed; surely he wasn't thinking those sorts of thoughts about me. "What can I get for you?" I prompted, hoping we could move on from this awkward silence.

"Oh my God." I watched his lips move as he spoke that universal phrase in such a typical British accent. I stared into this stranger's eyes and saw what I should have expected to see. They were an oh so emotive chocolate colour. I broadened my vision and looked at his features together. It was the face I'd been dreaming about for almost eight years.

I almost choked to get the word out. "Alex?"