Looking for Tiffany's This is just what I have so far, but tell me what you think and if I should continue.

"Oh darling, please, let Me." said Holly charmingly.

"No. No, you are much too sweet of a girl to waste your money on an old man like me. I insist." He said kissing her hand roughly.

It was foolish, and rather pitiful, but he was company, and a free meal. See, it wasn't that Holly Golightly couldn't afford her own dinner; it was just the simple fact that she preferred to spend it on other things. "Priorities", she would have called them.

Tonight was like most other nights, Holly was out to dinner with yet another man; John was his name- or was it Jim? - Well all the same, she was out. Perhaps if she grew to like him enough she would accompany him back to his home, or if he was married perhaps they could go to hers. Yes, there were other places, but Ms. Golightly was much too classy for that.

Now please, don't judge her too harshly, these things have happened few and far. Holly did go out almost every night, with one man or another, but rarely did much of anything else happen. In fact, incidents of such nature have only come about twice in Holly's life.

The first time was your classic high school "love" story. Holly had gone to the movies one night, with one of her first boyfriends. Being seventeen, he had a car and a certain power over sixteen year old Holly. He drove them to a local look out and "parked"; the rest is really quite predictable.

The second time came much later, when Holly had turned twenty three. She had accompanied an older man, probably forty because he had two children and a wife. He was pleasant enough, and was rather fond of Holly. It wasn't that she didn't like him, she did, but this was her first encounter with a married man. After they had finished their dinner, at a rather dingy diner- because he was not at all one of the wealthy men that Holly would later become so fond of- he led her down the street to an even dingier motel- you know, those ones that rent by the hour.

She had requested a room for the night, but he said it wouldn't take that long. Now she can't say she didn't know what she was doing, for she wasn't that naive, but she simply didn't want to displease him.

Holly Golightly was a pleaser, acquiring that from being raised by parent s who always had to pleased- by her education and so fourth.

Anyways: She ponders these thoughts and sips the last of her fine wine as her date admires her from across the table.

"Jim...Are you married?"

"Why no darling, I've been saving myself for the perfect girl...a girl like you Holly." He replied as he brought fourth a small black box. "Holly Golightly... I think I love you."

Before he had a chance to open the delicate box, Holly pushed her chair out and got up from the table. "Jim, you don't mean that. I'm really not the perfect girl. You know that don't you?" She turned and began to walk away from another proposal.

"Holly" he called. She turned to face him with a sad smile on her face. "John... my name is John."

A sound, something between a laugh and a smirk escaped her as she walked out the doors of the restaurant- and John's life.

Finally she thought as she stepped out onto the cool New York pavement, putting a cigarette to her lips. It was too bad; she had been seeing the John fellow twice a week, every week, for almost four months. He was a nice man, simple, but Holly was the farthest thing from simple. To her this was no tragedy, just another tragic man.

Poor man, thought Holly as she unlocked the door to her rather bare apartment. He was awfully kind, and he was settled- I could do with settled. Me, Holly Golightly, sitting by a fire, mending our children's little outfits watching them tease the cat with bright trails of yarn.

It was a serene thought, but one that Holly quickly pushed out of her mind as she poured herself a scotch and water. Holly was nowhere near ready to settle down and have children, nor was she sure ever would be. She looked around her kitchen, which attached to the living room. There was rarely food in the cupboards, but at least it was always clean. The living room comprised of a small couch, a chest full of assorted things, and a bookshelf, crammed with anything but books. The bedroom was in nature equally bare, but had been scattered with clothing, shoes, and any number of Holly's priorities. Her bathroom was of equal form, with cosmetics and hygienic products strewn about, and other various items, found in the most peculiar of places. Holly did not mind this chaos; it gave her a sense of comfort, a sense of security. Strange as it was even old Mr. Yunioshi, the irritable oriental man a few floors above her made her feel more at home. Although this place was her home, nothing gave her more comfort than her pet cat. Together they belonged to no one, and no one belonged to them- Why, they didn't even belong to each other!

As Holly sat, staring out at the bright city night, listening to melodramatic music she usually did after a night like this- she heard heavy footsteps approach her door. She quickly opened the door to find Mr. Yushioni wrapped in his oriental robe, dripping wet with a collection of soap suds gathering over his brow.

"Mr. Yushioni, what are you doing down here?" Holly exclaimed.

"Ms. Golightly it is late at night, and your music is too loud! How am I supposed to relax when you make all this ruckus?" shouted Mr. Yushioni, face growing redder by the word.

"I'm quite sorry Mr. Yunioshi. I was just out"-

-"If you don't stop breaking curfew and making this commotion I will report you." Mr. Yunioshi turned and crossly stomped up the stairs.

"Good night Mr. Yunioshi" Holly called after him.

He looked over the rail, but replied with a simple roll of the eyes and flick of the hand.

That man has to loosen up or he's simply going to pop! Holly took the record of the player and methodically readied herself for sleep. She climbed into bed, followed immediately by the cat. "Oh cat, I do hope that John is all right. He was a nice man." She whispered as she drifted to sleep.