Barely five minutes into Albert's coffee it began again. As soon as the old wooden door had creaked slowly open he'd resigned himself to it; the regulars burst into the pub like they owned place. Most actually did. The founder had been big in ideals but low on cash, so he sold off shares for the place a dime a dozen. Three years later his grand plans had fallen expectedly flat but the building was still popular enough with the mining crowd to turn over a respectable amount, even if most of it was handed straight back to the now drunk shareholders to buy the first round the next day. The one man actually running the place barely made a living, but at least that much wasn't at risk.

Albert was only here for the week since the coffee shop down the road's cappuccino machine had broken and the new one probably had to be shipped all the way from bloody China. The regulars here were predictable enough that he had been two steps ahead of their mental processing since about half an hour into his first visit. Anyway, the regulars didn't exactly knock and the rest of the town were wise enough to keep well away, so Albert knew it was either one of the occasional pissed off wives or some unsuspecting passer-by thinking that a name like 'The Golden Flower' was of literal origin.

Sure enough the catcalls began, throwing off Albert's concentration from the pub's latest cryptic crossword puzzle ie. last fortnight's. After a full five seconds had passed and hearing a notable absence of raucous laughter and name calling, he could only assume that another innocent victim had been lured into this venus flytrap of an establishment. After fifteen seconds he knew the passer-by was actually female and of at least reasonable attractiveness, and after twenty he felt some twinge of pity for her soul. After thirty he was just pissed and looked up to see what all the fuss was about.

She was an alright looker, Albert considered, if a bit on the thin side. But then, the 'rake' look was in this season wasn't it? Her blonde hair was disappointingly cropped just above her shoulders, but her breasts appeared to weigh as much as the rest of her body combined and she wasn't exactly being shy about showing them off. After she scanned the moderately crowded bar, probably only to show off all sides to the resident lechers, she walked confidently among the tables and towards one at the far end. Albert's eyes drifted back down towards his paper and it wasn't until her shadow passed over it that he seriously considered she might chose to sit on the empty seat across from him.

Albert glanced over his reflection from the resting china cup - his own of course, it seemed somehow degrading for his caffeine fix to otherwise come in a mug - but saw nothing unusual glancing back at him. Gaunt face, large ears, slightly crooked nose ... no it was still the face of Albert 'ugly fuck' Gedovi. The woman didn't appear to be wearing glasses or any contact lenses so he could logically conclude that perhaps she needed some. As if to confirm his hypothesis the woman give him a brief smile in greeting before sitting down. Albert waited while the noise of the others reached an almost unbearable uproar before dying down to a disappointed chattering and finally reaching the usual guttural muttering. The woman was obviously not as oblivious to the reaction or constant gazing at her most easily visible behind as she pretended to be while she pondered the menu.

"You know,there's an empty table over in the other corner where you could show off your front again, if that's what you prefer," Albert mentioned sarcastically. Not that he personally didn't enjoy the view but damn it he had standards, and the chance of him finishing off the crossword was falling exponentially the longer it stayed.

"That's true, but you're the ugliest person in the pub," the woman replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, thanks," Albert replied, keeping a hold of his sarcasm at a constant medium. The woman responded by grinning and provocatively placing her hand on his own. The last lingering thoughts on 'An evil existence, in retrospect.' fell from his mind at roughly the same time several unbelieving exclamations were uttered from the other side of the room.

"Isn't it that much more fun this way?" the woman laughed. Where Albert's cryptic pondering had vanished his scepticism returned in full force and looked up at the woman appraisingly.

"You realise, of course, that not all drug dealers are ugly and not all ugly people are drug dealers?" Albert asked, tightening his grip on his sarcasm just in case she was a desperate junkie looking for her next hit.

"Oh please, do I really look like I'm desperate for a fix?" the woman asked.

"Maybe for attention," Albert muttered. He did have to admit her eyes were bright and her skin coloured enough to back up her story.

"So, is there coffee here any decent?" The woman considered Albert's own mostly empty cup. Or barely full. Albert wasn't sure which sounded more pessimistic, but either meant he'd soon need a refill.

"If you're expecting free drinks, the barman is probably more susceptible to the power of boobs than I am, and no, the coffee here is pretty appalling."

"How do I know you're not just saying that so I don't take yours?" the woman asked, playfully eyeing his cup. Albert almost snarled by instinct. Instead he pulled the strong brew closer to him and took another gulp of the lukewarm remnants.

"Because you would have seen the coffee house on your way here and therefore deduced that anybody drinking coffee here was either do so out of desperation or as an irregular form of attempted suicide." The woman sighed.

"Do you ever lighten up?"

"Do you ever cover up?" Albert couldn't resist retorting. To his surprise the woman actually laughed.

"There we go, I knew anybody willing to put up with this environment without actually being a part of it couldn't be entirely uninteresting." The woman smiled. Before Albert could reply she stood up and left the table. Oddly, Albert was was both relieved and disappointed. The same emotions returned in reverse when she returned, now holding two large mugs of fresh black coffee. She sat one down in front of her seat and poured enough of the other into his cup to fill it.

"I can reasonable assume this isn't any subtle symbolism whereby you intend to keep me awake all night?" Albert spoke dryly, but happily took a mouthful from his cup anyway. The coffee was foul, but as strong, black and unsweetened as he preferred.

"Think of it more as an apology," the woman sighed. "This isn't exactly fair for you, but it would be worse for both of us if moved now."

"Trust me when I say those guys' opinions of me aren't exactly going to get any lower." Albert shrugged. The woman stayed where she was anyway. Albert managed to wrestle his attention back towards the crossword after a minute or so, and the woman turned to look out the dirty window. After another few minutes the bar's attention was directed away from the woman, if only briefly, as one of the miner's boss slammed the door open and soon after slammed shut again with one of the workers in tow. Albert filled in another two clues. The woman sipped away. He was beginning to feel almost awkward by her presence, which was not an emotion he had the pleasure of frequent acquaintance with. Eventually she broke the silence (rather than chiselling away at it with her irritating sipping) by turning back to him and speaking.

"So. Albert." Albert looked up and raised an eyebrow. "It's on your cup." For a moment Albert felt almost as stupid as the pub's other clients. Not quite, though. He went to speak again, but was cut off. "Mine's Sasha. And the number you're thinking of is six."

"Do I even need to be here for this?"

"It helps," Sasha beamed. "So, what do you do for a living around here? I do take it you live here, from your adamant stance against the coffee?"

"Yeah, I live here," Albert grudgingly admitted.

"Do I have to guess the rest?" Albert didn't bother to reply, and Sasha continued after a few seconds. "You're obviously not one of the miners, and you wouldn't be here if you ran your own business. Your outward demeanour doesn't lend itself towards a people orientated job, but then if you were a computer nut or something you probably couldn't bear to be here at all. How am I doing so far?" Albert grunted concomitantly."I think I'm going to go with an administrative job for my final answer, possibly the school headmaster.

"No," Albert replied curtly, feeling his awkwardness grow. He didn't like this line of conversation; he had seen where it ended too many times, especially from somebody like her.

"No? No hints then? So what do you think I do to earn my upkeep?" Sasha didn't seem off put at all by Albert's tone of voice.

"A computer programmer." Sasha looked surprised for a moment, then grinned.

"How did you guess that?"

"If you were a prostitute you wouldn't have asked the questioned," Albert explained, although it had really been a wild guess. Sasha seemed impressed by the response, and what little respect he had for her took another blow.

"So what about you, then?" Albert ignored her and turned back to his crossword. Sasha sighed, and this time there was a tinge of sadness in her voice. "I'm only trying to make conversation, I promise."

"I don't," Albert snapped. "I won the damn lottery and retired here." It wasn't a lie, but he didn't expect her to believe him. It had been eight months since he'd won the three million dollars and everyone he met either thought he was a nutter or made thinly veiled attempts to get their hands on a share. He'd never even bought a ticket himself, but had been given it as an unwanted gift from his mother. He'd nearly binned it but for not wanting to offend her. When he found out he was a 'Weekly Wonderful Winner!' he offered the money back so she could retire. His mother cited some religious nonsense about good deeds and blessings, then retired on her own the next month anyway. Albert hadn't liked his job, so what was he to do but quit and start living the high life?

Well, quit and start living the low life, of course. Albert had always preferred strong coffee over fancy champagne and figured a limousine wasn't going to get him from point A to point B any faster when they kept lowering the speed limits. He picked Wattlegate at random out of a rural street directory and moved here for some unearned peace and quiet.

"And you still haven't found what you're looking for ..." Sasha spoke softly after a moment, eerily mirroring Albert's own thoughts. She didn't appear to be mocking him or offering her body for cash, but he wasn't convinced yet. When he didn't reply Sasha continued. "Not just a pretty face."

"I could be lying." It occurred to Albert as he spoke that he'd finally dropped the hostility from his tone, and for a moment that worried him.

"If you were trying to get him my pants you would have started earlier, and you're smart enough not to go for such an extreme," Sasha countered. "Anyway, you don't look like the kind of person who would lie."

"And you don't look like the kind of person who would program.

"Then I guess appearances can be deceiving." For a second Albert heard a faint trace of ... something in her voice he wasn't sure of. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, wishing she would just finish her drink and leave. He wanted to be alone again.

"If you're going to say something about beauty being on the inside, I will be forced to crassly refer to your tits," Albert threatened half-heartedly.

"I think I'll managed to contain myself. If I wanted that kind of treatment I would have just gone and sat with the others," Sasha said, rolling her eyes over in their direction as she spoke.

"It's not to late to change your mind," Albert replied harshly. "It's not like they're avoiding the view anyway."

"I'm sorry." For the first time, Sasha looked uncomfortable. She swallowed the last of her coffee and stood, leaving the glass behind. "If you really want me to go I'll leave, but ..." Sasha seemed conflicted, and struggled with something before continuing. "I'll be in town for a few days, at the motel down Autumn Street. If you want to talk, just given them a call." Before Albert had a chance to respond she abruptly turned and walked out of the pub, followed by another surge of whistles and cheering.

Albert sat still, and watched her leave, the only one in the pub not watching her swaying hips. He continued to stare at the door for several seconds after she'd left before taking a large gulp from his coffee and turning back to his crossword.