Lace sat crossways in her chair, nearly completely absorbed in the book she was reading. The caf� was nearly empty allowing her a few minutes with very little distraction. Every few minutes though, as she turned the page, she glanced around her, aware of another pair of eyes that were watching her. She could feel them, but she never found them. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and turned her attention back to her book. He watched her quietly from his own corner of the darkened caf�. He knew she could tell someone was watching her, the slightly uncomfortable look on her face as she looked around, the way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. But he knew she hadn't spotted him yet. He'd been watching her since she'd first sat down, not intending to stare, but his eyes just kept coming back to her. He watched her oblivious to everything around him, absently playing with the now-empty cup in front of him. She'd never figure it was him that was watching her. He'd known being a man of many shades would come in handy.

A brief smile flashed on Lace's face, as she read, reaching her favorite part in a book she'd read many, many times before. Somehow this book had become a treasure to her, and she'd read it as often as she could. She giggled out loud, before glancing around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. A faint blush of embarrassment faded quickly when she confirmed that no one had noticed her outburst, and then she settled back into her seat and continued with the story.

He saw her giggle and wished he knew what she was seeing, thinking, feeling. Her mild embarrassment made her even more intriguing, and near impossible for him to take his eyes away from her. But why would he want to? In fact, he wanted to go over there himself, but he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't turn out the way he wanted it to; his life would see to that. So he was relegated to his dark corner. Watching.

Lace felt her bookmark slipping from her hand, and moved quickly trying to grab it before it hit the floor. It fluttered just out of her grasp, and she looked around momentarily, before leaning down to retrieve it. She sat back up and slapped the offending piece of cardboard onto the table beside her where it could cause no more trouble. She settled back into her seat, and right back into the book only to jump and instinctively shut the book when someone spoke over her shoulder. She turned, looking at the waiter who had interrupted her, and sent him quickly away, angry with herself. �Dammit, why am I so jumpy?' She flipped randomly through the pages of the book, realizing she'd shut it, while the bookmark was still sitting on the table. She found a suitable page, sighed heavily and was soon re-absorbed in the book.

He had leaned forward as she retrieved the bookmark, watching her movements with keen interest. Even in such a mundane action she was so graceful. He leaned back as she did and sighed. In some way he wished he could call attention to himself, just to know that she was as aware of him as he was of her. But he couldn't take that risk. They'd think he was insane, if they didn't already. How often had he wished for a few minutes of anonymity? Today, he had it, they all did, and he wanted to give it up. For one look from a girl. Someone he probably wouldn't have even noticed in a group of fans. �No!', he told himself, �she's different. I would notice her.' But she probably wouldn't BE in a group of fans. Maybe she didn't even know who he was. Maybe if he walked right up and introduced himself, she wouldn't know his name, and it would all be cool. Maybe . . . nah. Just wishful thinking. Life doesn't work like that. �She's in her world, and I'm in this one and she'd never be a part of it.' But for the next few minutes he could still gaze at her and dream, right?

Lace shifted, feeling the air around her tense, something in it intensified. She still had the feeling of being watched but somehow it was different now. She lost focus on her book, and looked around, carefully but discreetly scanning the faces of each person she could see. Her eyes shifted to a small table in a dark corner, around which were seated five men. All but one of them seemed deep in conversation, debate almost. The other lounged casually against his chair, seeming distracted, uninterested in whatever they were discussing. Her eyes scanned him, quickly taking in every detail, and stopping at the sunglasses he was wearing.

She gasped as she felt a shiver run down her spine, and something kept her from looking away. He tipped his head forward and Lace caught a glimpse of the deep brown eyes hidden behind the shades before one of the other man spoke to him, demanding his attention.

"Are you paying attention at all?" A soft drawl to his left, but he didn't answer; didn't want to lose the connection to her.

"C'mon man, we have to go." Another voice, friendlier, warmer. This time he turned.

"Ten minutes. I'll catch up." He looked back to her, willing her to still be looking.

"No, now!" Yet another voice, this time fatherly, authoritarian.

He sighed heavily knowing he wasn't going to win. "Alright, whatever." He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and turned, praying that she'd look back. Come on. He felt someone push at his shoulder.

"C'mon, the idea is to walk out the door."

Still he watched, hoping she'd turn, wondering if she'd felt the same connection he had. He felt another push, this time at his back, and stepped out the door, losing sight of her, fearing it might be forever.

The waiter had once again caught her attention as soon as the connection between them had broken, and although she'd kept looking to him, he hadn't appeared to do the same. Sighing, she gave the waiter her full attention only momentarily before finally sending him on his way. There was a sharp intake of breath as she turned back and realized he was gone, followed by a sudden indescribable emptiness.

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