A/N: The idea of "X times Y did Z" is very cliché, but for some reason, I wanted to explore the ways Weetzie and My Secret could have met and this was born.

1.) Working at the Odyssey was just a stepping stone in Weetzie's life. She worked here to earn enough money to travel extensively around the world before settling in Italy to fulfill her lifelong dream of working on become a world famous artist. As much as she hated to admit it, working at an eclectic liquor store that was once Weetzie's favorite hangout space wasn't what she called a quality place to make a living. It was enough, Weetzie supposed, to get by but she couldn't help but dream of the things that she could be doing, like going to an art museum and learning how to better herself as an artist. She always had a love of art, and art has been a part of her life for so long that she can't understand how she would have ever lived without it. Weetzie dreamed of the day when money wasn't an object and she didn't have to make the decision to put art aside to make rent.

Alas, she was forced to put these daydreams of hers aside when the pastel colored door of the Odessy opened with the tingling of its bell, signifying someone was in the store. A young man around Weetzie's age walked in the store, silently searching the aisles. The look on his face was intent, as if he had a mission he had to complete and quickly. He appeared at the cash register a little over five minutes later with a can of Dr. Pepper and a pack of cigarettes.

"How much is this gonna cost?" He asked. He had a nice voice, soothing and kind of raspy.

"Six dollars, even," Weetzie chirped happily.

"What's your name?" The man asked casually as he thumbed through his wallet.

"Weetzie," she said as she waited.

"Bless you," he said, handing her a crisp five dollar bill and a slightly crumpled one dollar bill.

"I'm serious, that's my first name. I've got weird parents, you see," she explained sheepishly.

"Don't worry about weird names. Mine is My Secret Agent Lover Man," he said.

"Welcome to the weird name club, and I hope you come back again!"

2.) Waiting at the bus stop wasn't as fun as Weetzie thought it would be. She wasn't the most patient of girls and she needed to get to this movie on time. Weetzie's car was broken and currently being repaired, so she had to rely on the quite unreliable bus system to take her around town. She was meeting a few of her colleagues from the art school she was planning on graduating from in a year to see the opening of this new documentary. The fact that she would be late if that goddamned bus-

"Anyone sitting here?" A man asks her, pointing to the empty seat of the bench Weetzie sat on while waiting for the bus. He seems too well dressed to take the bus. Then again, all types of eccentric and downright weird people took the bus in Los Angeles.

"Take the seat!" She said.

"Where are you going?" He asked in an attempt to break the ice. It didn't work as well as he thought it would, because instead of feeling inclined to answer, she just wants to scoot away.

"Just gonna meet some friends," she said curtly. When the bus finally came, it was so full they didn't ever get each other's names.

3.) The beach, Weetzie decided, was the best place to clear her racing thoughts. The sounds of the crashing, shimmering blue waves made a reassuring noise that Weetzie loved hearing. Not only did she get to be deeply philosophical and calmer, she got to show off her cute strawberry red bikini with forest green straps.

She drifted off for what seemed like a few moments, then woke up suddenly with a guy looking over her.

"Who are you?" Weetzie asked, startled.

"Relax, I was just gonna set my stuff by you. It's not like I bite or anything," he said casually, laughing softly. Weetzie calmed down.

"So what brings you down to the beach?" Weetzie asked to break the silence.

"I have to finish some schoolwork and what better place to finish work than at the beach!" He explained, pointing to his red ballpoint pen and crisp, new spiral notebook.

"What're you studying?"

"Journalism. I'm My Secret Agent Man but you can just call me Max if my name's too weird for you," My Secret stuck out his hand towards Weetzie's and shook it.

"I'm Weetzie but you can just call me Weetzie since I have no creative nicknames for myself," she explained, grinning.

"Let me take you out for a meal of your choice to discuss this concept." Weetzie gathered her beach items, took My Secret's hand and lead him to his car.

4.) Holy fuck am I going to get in trouble, Weetzie thought frantically as she bolted out the door with a quickly racing heart. She was going to be late for work yet again. Weetzie couldn't afford to lose her job because she needed money to but rent. She now firmly regretted quitting her job at the Odyssey in a fit of unnecessary drama but very necessary drama. Apparently, working overtime without raised wages was a perfectly acceptable thing to do…

She ran down the street, desperately needing to catch the bus that would take her to work. Weetzie couldn't afford a car and her bike was slowly deteriorating in the shop, so the bus was her lifeline at the moment. She ran into a man who seemed overwhelmed.

"Watch where're you're going, jackass!" She screeched, obviously not in the best mood. The look on his face was absolutely pitiful, as if he was a puppy who was just kicked. For a split second, Weetzie softened. She would have let an apology slip out of her lips, had she been graced with the time to do so. One day, she'd find a way to apologize to him…

5.) On a whim, Weetzie decided it would be fun to take a figure drawing class at the local community college. She wasn't very talented when it came to drawing people because she preferred painting abstract paintings or landscapes. It would be a fun change to do a type of art she wasn't very familiar with.

"Hello, class," the teacher said curtly as he walked into the room. Weetzie felt slightly bad because her first thought of the teacher was how attractive he was.

"I am Mr. Agent and I will be your teacher for this eight week class," he explained. She also felt as if she was going through a moment of déjà vu, as if she had met him before .

"Do I know you?" Weetzie blurted out too loudly, and in a quieter voice, said, "You look familiar." Mr. Agent glared at Weetzie, as if was about to accuse her of murder.

"Miss…" He started.

"Bat. Weetzie Bat, sir," she chirped.

"Miss Bat. Please refrain from blurting out in this class," Mr. Agent said, then proceeded to clear his throat and started the class. Weetzie stayed quiet for the rest of the class, her face an embarrassingly deep shade of red.

"Miss Bat!" Mr. Agent called as class ended. She shuffled over towards Mr. Agent hesitantly.

"Yes?" She asked.

"For next class, if you have anything to tell me personally, please kindly wait until after class," Mr. Agent explained.

"Will do," she said, slightly less embarrassed than before.

"See you next class, Miss Bat." He said with a smile. She couldn't wait to have his class again.