He finally emerged out of his hotel suite wearing his Australian team colors proudly on this sunny Thursday morning. Putting his shades on, he stepped into an American restaurant nearby, ravaging with hunger. He ordered what he deemed to be a hearty breakfast of a stack of pancakes, eggs and bacon and sat contentedly waiting for his order, while watching some of the swimming pre-lims.

"Aunt Debbie…you go on ahead and watch Mike's prelims, I am still trying to get over this jet-lag." A dark haired young woman said at a table across Ian's. His eye went to the large cup of coffee sitting in front of her as the older woman stood up to leave. He caught the name from the back of the older woman's jacket…Phelps.

"Are you sure Abby? I don't want to leave you in the Olympic village alone." She said, while taking out a checkbook.

"Yeah, I want to be all rested for his finals tonight, and besides, I'm twenty. I can take care of myself." She stirred her coffee lazily. "I'll meet up with you later back at the hotel."

Debbie left the restaurant just as the Women's 800 Freestyle came on the TV. Not feeling confident enough to get up and introduce himself, he went to the bathroom, and took a route which would pass her by. Coming back, Abby had been glancing around the restaurant, bored with the 800m. Looking directly in front of her, she gasped "Oh my God…Ian Thorpe."

Ian's days after the Sydney Olympics and the jetsetting pop-star lifestyle finally came through for him, he knew he'd gotten her attention. He sat back into his seat and toyed with his water glass before a rather shy looking Abby smiling awkwardly at him. "Hi, you might not know me. I'm Abby Jones, cousin to your archrival Michael Phelps."

"Pleasure to meet you." He said, grinning, extending a hand that quite easily doubled the size of hers. "Do sit down, I haven't got anyone to talk to, and I think some of the other customers in the restaurant are plotting against me."

"Nah, they wouldn't, you're already done." Abby replied, "Mike was waiting for this day." She said with an amused grin.

"So, were you here for all the Finals then?" He asked after an awkward silence.

"Oh yeah, I usually slept in to get pumped up for the night's finals. I lost my voice after the 200 Free final between you and Mike. Just got it back last night and plan to lose at again during all of the Finals Mike is in." She said before taking another sip of coffee.

"So do you swim? Because I heard that Michael's siblings are all swimmers." Ian said, desperate to make conversation with this girl.

"No, I was actually a gymnast, a rotten really because of my height. So I switched over to soccer…and I play for the Stanford team." Abby answered. A rather confused waiter came over to her serving a rather large muffin and a plate of fruit, while Ian's enormous breakfast came in. "So, would this be considered fraternizing with the enemy?"

"I'd say something, but we've only just met, and you'd think I'm perverse or something." He said before shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

Abby shook her head at him and checked her watch. "You men are all the same, but that's not saying I'm perfect. I used to go to Mike's swim meets not to cheer him on, but to meet the attractive opponents."

Ian nearly choked on his pancake. Swallowing, he managed to sputter "And do you still do that now?"

"Oh…well now it's a mix of actually cheering and men watching, but it tends to weigh heavily on the latter." Abby grinned. She left a traveler's check on top of her astonishingly clean plate and patted Ian on the head. "Wonderful to meet you, but I will be late to the swimming pool."

"Am I going to see you again?" Ian asked, looking up at her.

"Well, out and about at the stands, and if you don't see me there, I'm only a floor away. Didn't you know that the US Swim Team and their family was housed in the same hotel?" She asked with a grin. With that, she gave him a final smile and walked out into the dazzling sunlight of the Olympic square.

Ian reminded himself to brush his teeth.