This is the laboratory of Dr. Travers. Loose papers, books, diagrams and machinery cover every surface, transforming the already claustrophobic space into a veritable cocoon. The pale coral light of a sunrise slants through a single cluttered window, illuminating a hunched figure half buried in discarded odds and ends.

Dr. Travers presses the heels of his hands impatiently against his temples, try to squeeze inspiration from his overtaxed brain like water from a dry sponge.

A low, melodic voice speaks from behind him. "James Travers. It's been a long time."

Dr. Travers freezes, a thousand inarticulate questions flaring in his mind. He rises slowly, keeping his gaze fixed directly ahead. "It� it certainly has."

Soft, measured footsteps glide closer to him. He can feel cool breath playing with the stiff hairs on the back of his neck as she half whispers, "Did you miss me?"

"I always miss you." Dr. Travers holds a shallow breath as he turns to face the woman who has haunted his life for so many years. She is beautiful in an untouchable, ivory-tower way. Her skin is a cool olive brown and her hair falls in neatly ordered ringlets down her back. But her appearance is just a tawdry footnote to her eyes, wide and golden and mysterious as a raptor's. He is caught by her eyes. He had forgotten how entrancing they could be.

He had been just a young boy, just seven years old, when he first saw her. It was hours past midnight and he was secretly awake, submerged in a fat tome on subatomic physics. He looked up to clear his blurring eyes, and there she was. She had been sitting on the far end of his bed, her inscrutable raptor eyes crinkled with a smile.

"Who are you?" He had stupidly asked.

"Don't play games with me," she coolly replied, "You know that as well as I do."

She was right.

Fourteen years later he saw her again, under equally enigmatic circumstances. He had been out of college for almost a year and was sunk deep into disillusionment depression. He hadn�t been able to land a professional job anywhere and had fallen into a bartending job in a seedy part of town. He was watching the clock countdown down to closing time when a pointed cough shattered his usual bored stupor. He lowered his clock-bound gaze and for the second time in his life stared into two captivating golden eyes.

"What's a smart guy like you doing in a place like this? Pardon the clich�." The owner of the eyes asked wryly.

"I could say the same to you. This isn't exactly a sanctum of intellectual deliberation."

She rested her chin coyly on her knuckles. "Haven't you ever heard of the impoverished genius, down on his luck, who resorts to a half life of menial servitude to buy his daily bread?"

"I'm flattered, but you're talking to the wrong guy. I've learned my lesson. Cleverness can only get you so far in this world."

"Cleverness can get you anywhere. Now that'll be a double scotch on the rocks, and hurry up, it's almost closing time."

And now here she is again, just when he was beginning to think she was through with him. And she hadn't changed one iota. She slides closer to him, just a little too close for him to be comfortable. "What would your wife and son think of this, mmm? This illicit little meeting?"

Travers takes a deep, shaking breath. And then another. Her eyes pin him to the spot like a hooked talon through his chest. "You're the only one I�ve ever truly loved," he sighs wearily, "You know that."

She smiles as she runs her chill fingers up his neck, framing his square, aging face. She leans forward with sudden, predatory grace and brushes his balding forehead with a kiss.

"Yes, I know."