Love . . . I get so lost . . . sometimes. Days pass, and this emptiness fills my heart . . . . .

Michael had been staring blankly into the cup of coffee in front of him. Suddenly, even amid the smoke, the strong smell of stale alcohol, amid the low buzz of humanity that pervaded every corner of the bar he was in, he turned his exclusive attention to the song blaring over the speakers.

When I want to run away, I drive off in my car . . . but whichever way I go, I come back to the place you are . . . all my instincts, they return . . . and the grand façade, so soon will burn . . . without a noise, without my pride . . . I reach out from the inside . . . .

He closed his eyes, felt the impact of the music combined with the words reaching deeply to pull at something inside him.

In your eyes . . . the light the heat . . . in your eyes . . . I am complete . . . in your eyes . . . I see the doorway . . . to a thousand churches . . . in your eyes . . . the resolution . . . of all the fruitless searches . . . in your eyes . . . I see the light the heat . . . in you eyes . . . oh, I want to be that complete . . . I want to touch the light the heat I see in your eyes . . .

Along with the music his heart pounded against his ribs like a wild animal . . . cornered, caught, frozen by realization . . . Ni-ki-ta.

Love, I don't like to see so much pain . . . so much wasted . . . and this moment keeps slipping away . . . I get so tired . . . working so hard for our survival . . . . I look to the time with you . . . to keep me awake and alive.

The music built, a chill rushed down his spine, the denial, so bright, gathered in the pit of his stomach, crashing with the power of a waterfall.

And all my instincts . . . they return . . . and the grand façade . . . so soon will burn . . . without a noise . . . with out my pride . . . I reach out from the inside.

"Michael?"

The voice blazed a trail through his consciousness, ripping him back to reality.

In your eyes . . . and he was looking . . . watching her take the seat across the small table from him . . . the light, the heat . . .

She was his time, his measure . . . in your eyes . . . I am complete . . . one hand reached for the other, the gesture, for once, an undisguised signal.

In your eyes . . . I see the doorway . . . to a thousand churches . . . and they were clear . . . blue . . . the keys to his soul.

He swallowed, deeply, trying not to choke on the rising tide of emotion.

In your eyes . . . the resolution . . . of all the fruitless searches . . . in your eyes . . .

His hand, trembling with the impact of the song . . . the moment . . . the truth . . .drew her fingers to his mouth. A gentle kiss, the press of his lips. Never once letting the focus blur as he brought his other hand up, clasped hers between his two.

I see the light and the heat . . . in your eyes . . . oh; I want to be that complete . . .

And he bowed his head, rested his forehead there . . . I want to touch the light the heat I see in your eyes . . .

Across the room, only moments before, The Watcher, from his position at the bar, had touched the stem of his glasses, deactivated the camera when Michael reached for and caught Nikita's hand. Without a thought to the consequences, he dropped the glasses to the floor, stood up, glanced one last time at the couple . . . then made his move to leave, crushing the offensive equipment under a booted foot. Some things just were not meant for report . . . or observation.

In your eyes . . . in your eyes . . .

The End

~Key - - Words to the song "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. Used without permission, but with many thanks.