"How long are you going to stare at her?" Isabel snapped from across the table. "It's like...it's like...you're turning into Max." Michael sighed, ignoring her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Max glared. She ignored him.

"She's not going to talk to you," Isabel popped a fry into her mouth. "I think it has something to do with your lovely attitude." Michael glowered for a minute, mostly at his soda and saying nothing.

"And where is she with my burger?" Max sighed. "It's been like 15 minutes."

Isabel gasped. "That long oh god Max," she placed her hand on his comfortingly. "You look so pale, so drawn." He ignored her.

"What did you two fight about this time," Michael mumbled something.

"Who said we argued over anything?" he snapped.

"They argued," Isabel smirked, popping another fry in her mouth. Max reached over and she slapped his hand away.

"Fifteen minutes won't kill you," Isabel glared, popping another fry in her mouth just to spite. She turned to Michael. "So what did you fight about."

"We didn't fight," Michael snapped.

"Riiighht," Isabel rolled her eyes. "Which is why she brought you an Sunkist, which you despise, instead of the Cherry Coke, that you ordered." Michael glared at the soda some more.

"Who said I don't like Sunkist?"

"You don't like oranges," Isabel pointed out.

"They're a happy fruit," Max said sarcastically.

"They're ORANGE," Michael rolled his eyes. "Who wants to eat something orange?"

"You eat Cheetos all the time."

"That's besides the point."

"No, actually I think its smack dab on the point." He ignored her some more, glaring at the untouched soda.

"And if you didn't fight then why didn't she take your food order?" Max asked, pointing to the pen Maria had set down and walked away from the minute Michael had opened his mouth.

"She doesn't like extra work," Michael said sullenly.

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Fine. Don't tell us," Isabel grinned. "We'll just ask Maria, I'm sure she'd LOVE to tell us what you fought about. Very loudly." Michael sighed.

"Coffee." Isabel blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"We fought about coffee," he shrugged his shoulders.

"I know Maria shouldn't be ingesting any type of caffeine product period but you FOUGHT over it." Michael sighed frustrated.

"I don't KNOW. One minute we were making out on the couch, like we always do," Isabel sighed.

"Skip this part please." She interrupted. Michael ignored her.

"And then she's saying about our "relationship"-" he actually did the airquotes. "-and the next thing I know she's yelling at me about coffee. I'd just assumed she'd drunken too much."

"You didn't even ask her what she was talking about?" Michael looked horrified.

"Why? So she could talk MORE?" Michael shuddered in horror. "No thankyou."

Isabel sighed patiently, keeping in mind his male sensibilities.

"So you could work. Out. The. Problem." Isabel said slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"I didn't know there WAS a problem." Michael sighed for what felt like the seventh time that day.

"Obviously," Isabel rolled her eyes. "I swear Michael, sometimes you are just so male." Maria scoffed.

"Tell me about it," she muttered, practically slamming down Max's plate of burgers and Isabel's club sandwich, she looked to Michael. "Oh I'm sorry, did you want something?" She asked sweetly, he opened his mouth, but Maria grabbed her pen, whirling away. Michael sighed.

"Coffee sucks." He muttered.

"I still don't understand the coffee reference," Isabel said. "Are you SURE it was coffee? Could it be crappy? As in your relationship?" Michael turned his glare from the cup of Sunkist to Isabel. He clenched his teeth and Isabel turned to her sandwich.

"Go talk to her man," Max shrugged, picking up his burger greedily. "At LEAST demand some food." Michael sighed.

"Fine. It's better then talking to you two." He stood up. "You two need lives." He snapped walking towards the waitress behind the counter.

"Maria." He said simply.

"Michael."

"We need to talk," she smiled sweetly.

"Do we?"

"I want to know what I did," he leaned across the counter. "Something about coffee." Maria sighed, slamming down the cup she had been drying onto the counter.

"You don't get this at ALL!" she sighed. "I should have know you'd be an idiot about this."

"Okay. Ouch," he said defensively.

"I wasn't talking about COFFEE."

"Yeah because that would be stupid?"

"I was talking about the fact that you didn't know what I TOOK in my coffee."

"Which surprisingly isn't less stupid."

"You're not helping," Maria warned. "That's like a basic relationship maneuver."

"So now we're talking battle tactics."

"NO Michael. You ALWAYS know what your girlfriends takes in her coffee, and she always knows your quirky television habits."

"HAH see, you don't know those." Maria rolled her eyes.

"Please." She said. "You dominate the remote, you only sit on the second cushion of the couch for best visual contact, if there's a hockey game on, WB dramas be damned. The only early morning cartoons you watch are on the Cartoon Network and Fox, and the only daytime talk show you catch is Jenny Jones." She raised an eyebrow. "You like to snack while watching TV, usually on Pepsi, with a mouthwash chaser, and Sour Cream and Onion ruffle potato chips." She stared at his open jaw. "Am I wrong?" he shook his head amazed. "Then I rest my case." She turned away, grabbing another cup.

"So what do you take in you're coffee." She scoffed.

"It's not that easy Spaceboy." She began to dry it again. He sighed, laying his head on the counter.

"This is back to that "we're in a relationship" thing again isn't it?" he moaned.

"Yes Michael," she snapped. "It is."

"I KNOW that already do you HAVE to keep reminding me."

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore now do you?" she grabbed another cup.

"You're breaking up with me over coffee?"

"IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH COFFEE!!" Maria yelled, drawing the interested stares of customers. She flushed. "And you owe me 20 bucks."

"WHAT? Why?"

"Because, that just cost me my daily average in tips." Michael ignored her.

"Will you just tell me what the HELL you take in your coffee that's so damned important so I can go on with my life and possibly get a drink that's not orange?"

"No. Would you like another Sunkist sir?" She asked, grabbing the last cup. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Whatever, I tried."

"Very hard I might add." She pouted sarcastically. Michael whirled stalking out of the diner. Liz looked up from her notebook; she had listened to the entire conversation.

"I bet that was fun."

"Loads."

"Did you really yell at him over coffee?"

"The coffee is NOT the issue here Liz," Maria said. "But I wouldn't expect YOU to know. I mean what with that PERFECT relationship you have with Max. What with your moon eyes and your presents and your PLAYFUL BANTER." She slammed a cup down, causing Liz to jump.

"I'm surprised you two haven't been sneaking puppy looks at each other all day. I think it has something to do with the fact that customers are eating and we wouldn't want to make them nauseous." She whirled. Liz looked at her friend shocked.

"You think we make people nauseous?" Liz asked hurt.

"Honey I KNOW you two make people nauseous. One can only have so much sugar till they VOMIT." She put a hand reassuringly on her friends. "You two are sickening. I'm sure the shock will fade in time."

She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, still dress in the hideous blue fabric of the Crashdown uniform, her shoes and socks lying in a jumbled heap on the floor. Her arms were crossed behind her head, and the radio blasted, that horrible ear-splitting crap pop music but despite the girly boy band singing on the radio Michael smiled. He raised his free hand, rapping once on the door.

"Yeah mom?" Maria sat up, and then shot up when she saw who it was.

"Michael?" He pushed the door open with his hip and entered.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying hard to glare.

"Brought ya something," he held up one of those horrible cardboard carrier things, two steaming cups of some liquid sat on the top "Caribou Coffee" written on the side.

"I thought Starbucks would be too cliche" Michael shrugged. "Can I come in." She nodded a little worried. He did, sitting down on her bed, carefully putting the coffee in the middle.

"I got half and half, sugar packets, and-" he reached into the pockets of his jacket. "Reddi-Wip." Maria raised an eyebrow.

"That's how I take my coffee, black, Reddi-Whip and," he took another bottle outside of his other pocket. "Tabasco." Maria rolled her eyes.

"I should have known."

"So, Ms. Deluca, just how do you take your coffee?" Maria smiled, leaning over and taking two sugar packets, one thing of half-and-half, and the Reddi-Wip. She put the sugar in; ripping the packets and letting the paper float down to her comforter. She smiled, dumping in the half-and-half, picking up those long spoons they give you with coffee and stirring it. She then grabbed the Reddi-Wip and sprayed a large serving on the top of her coffee.

"You're a wussie coffee drinker," Michael rolled his eyes. "It's not even coffee anymore."

"What about you? Real men drink their coffee black."

"Who said I was a man?"

"Right. I forgot."

"Why because this gesture is so human?" he asked.

"No. Because I haven't yet identified your species." She smiled sweetly sipping her coffee. Michael picked up his napkin, leaning over.

"You have a little...whip cream on your nose," he said softly wiping it off. Maria smiled.

"This is so corny." She grinned.

"I know," he smiled too. "Great isn't it?"

"See I told you the fight wasn't over coffee it was over this." She motioned between them. "And the lack thereof."

"I'll try harder next time."

"Yes, next time bring Turtle Coffee."

"Turtle Coffee?" Maria closed her eyes, licking her lips.

"Oh Turtle Coffee...there are just something's that come straight from God."

"I take it Turtle Coffee is good?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Pure heaven, next time we have coffee we'll have to get you some." She took another sip of her coffee.

"Next time?" Michael asked looking stricken.

"Oh yes Michael Guerin. Now that you know what I take in my coffee, we're going to be enjoying it a lot more." She smiled. Michael sighed.

"Ah hell."

The End.