Written by Jess
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

When our eyes meet, it is across the span of ages.

I know this woman. I have known her before.

The nanosecond between the lifting and the falling of her lashes as she blinks, I glimpse a deluge of images that are shocking in their clarity. There is her frightened face, not her own and yet the one that houses her soul, huddling along a muddy embankment with tears in her eyes. There is her courage, shining through as she bravely lifts her face to the crowd of raucous onlookers and allows the noose to be slipped around her neck, ignoring the taunts and accusations while she calmly awaits her execution. There is her voice, low and sweet, as she sings to me while I lay bleeding to death on a battlefield in her arms. There is her spirit, beautiful and unquenchable, as she allows me to spin her around a dance floor in the depths of a ship on a collision course with destiny.

Lifetimes, lifetimes that we've known each other, felt each other, touched the other's lives in a way that no other could. And countless more, where we did not chance to meet, where we were nothing more than a ghost of a whisper in each other's dreams, to be forgotten with the morning.

Names, faces, destinies...all varying and none of it mattering now, none of it, other than the fact that we have found each other once again.

The only difference is, this time I have remembered what came before.

This face, the face before me now, has been haunting my dreams since I was a child. I had always wondered who she was, and why my subconscious felt the need to manifest her.

And now I know.

She blinks at me now, innocently enough behind the wire frames of her glasses, and lifts the mug to her lips. I can see the questions in her eyes. She wants to know why I am staring. She doesn't feel threatened quite yet, seeing as this is a public place and we are at separate tables. But she is edgy underneath my scrutiny.

I smile and offer a name, and after a moment she gives me hers. It is a beautiful name and I tell her so. She responds with a roll of her blue eyes, but I can tell that I've pleased her, if only a little bit. Laugh lines crinkle around her eyes, and her mouth turns up at the corners, a dimple appearing in one cheek.

I suddenly want to kiss her. I want to crush her against me and devour her mouth until the need for oxygen overcomes our need for each other. I want to tell her everything; I want every word to spill out, ages and ages we've loved and lost each other. I want it to be different this time, so very different.

She looks slightly wary now, as though she's able to read my mind, and is wondering at the desperation layering my every thought. She's so beautiful.

Every face, every time, she is always so beautiful. Because she is mine. My soulmate. My other half.

Too bad we seem to be cursed.

Does meeting her in this life mean that another tragedy awaits?

Have we met in lifetimes, loved in lifetimes, without tragedy?

I don't know. I can't remember.

I take a deep breath. Time to step forward and embrace our fate once more.

"I know you," I say.

She lifts her mug to her soft parted lips; takes a sip and swallows. Her eyes, suddenly serious, gaze unblinking into mine.

"Yes," she says. "You do."

I feel a mixture of joy and confusion wash over me. Maybe it's not like it sounds, maybe she just...

"I remember," she says quietly.

Of course. Of course.

I try to control the shaking of my hands.

Of course. If I can remember, why shouldn't she?

"I've been waiting for you," she says.

My mouth feels dry. For a moment I am speechless. Finally, a word forces itself from my throat, barely above a whisper. "Forever."

She gives a nod. She seems dry, almost analytical, in the midst of such an unforgettable realization. But then, I have always been the passionate one, haven't I?

Out of nowhere, long ago, steam-drenched images filter through my head, of us, another us, loving each other in the backseat of a Renault, her damp red curls clinging to her face and neck as she pulls my head down for a long, breathless kiss...

Well. Maybe not.

Maybe we're both passionate.

She sets her mug carefully on the formica, and stands, weaving around tables and chairs until she reaches my side. Instead of sitting, she chooses to stand before me, gazing solemnly at my face, as though searching for all the lives we've known before.

At last, she speaks.

"I don't want to lose you."

Again, I want to touch her, to kiss her--the need is even stronger than before--but I know that now is not the time for that.

"I don't want to lose you," she repeats, her voice still low, but strong. "Not this time."

I take a breath, let it out slowly. "I can make no assurances..." I begin hoarsely.

"I know. I know." Her voice is mild, but her eyes spark with a multitude of emotions. "Neither can I."

We stare at each other for a minute.

I have yet to touch her.

Do we curse each other with our love? It is entirely possible. Tragedy seems to befall us whenever we meet. Death follows revelation in short order. At least, that seems to be the trend.

For all I know, we could step out the door of this cafe and get hit by a bus.

As though sensing the direction of my thoughts, she gives a gentle shake of her head. "There's no way we can know," she says, answering her own thought.

I reach out at last, taking her small, soft hand in my own and squeezing it gently. "I guess," I say slowly, "all we can do...is live."

A beat, and then the smile that splits her face is brilliant and by far the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

At least in a hundred years.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, the words speaking themselves. A last vestige of a past life, perhaps. One last remnant from a love affair, in another time, cut tragically short.

Her hand tightens around mine, and she nods.

"I trust you."

When our eyes meet, it is across the span of ages...

But now, as I stand and place a hand against the small of her back, steering her out of the cafe...centuries past are discarded, and it is only us.

Fate brought us together once again. I can only pray that this time, we will remain.

The End.

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