The music at Babylon pulsed as Michael and Ben finished a particularly long kiss. "That was amazing!" Michael said, smiling into his boyfriend's eyes. "Thanks," Ben said, "Now I have to go to the little boys' room. Wait here." Michael leaned against the bar, feeling like his life - for that moment at least - was perfect. Had he ever felt so happy? So content? Suddenly he felt someone's eyes looking at him. "That was some kiss." The voice was low, sexy, familiar . and a little sad. Michael turned around and there he was, his previous great love: Doctor Dave. "Long time, no see," the hunky Doctor said, chucking Michael on the chin. Michael's heart suddenly sank and leapt and spun all around his chest. "What are you doing here.?"

"Well . . ." Dave began slowly. "Hank is a remarkably well adjusted heterosexual teenage boy. If fact, my son recently started a gay-straight alliance at his school." The doctor's chest swelled with pride.

The doctor tilted his head a little, never taking his eyes from Michael's. "And . . . I missed you, Michael." His eyes grew larger and welled with tears. "I know that I'm not always an easy person to like, and even more so, I'm fucking impossible to love sometimes. But what I had . . . what we had together . . ."

The words left his mouth and fell at Michael's feet. "David . . ." he started.

"I didn't plan to come here and make some hokey true love confession, Michael." The good Doctor's eyes widened in something that looked a lot like sincerity, and worse . . . vulnerability. "I'm not that guy. You know that. And I met someone when I was in Portland, of course, but every time I touched him, it was your face I saw."

Michael started to protest.

"Look, don't answer now, okay? I know that I hurt you, and you will never know how sorry I am for that. But what we had, Michael was too good to let go, for want of distance and friends. You're worth more then that to me."

Michael watched the strong shoulders of Dr. Dave retreating as he weaved his way through the sweating, writing, half-naked men on the dance floor. A few of them reached out to stroke his skin, but he shrugged them off, stopping only once to cast a single look back at Michael.

"Who was that?" Ben asked, wrapping his arms around Michael as the shorted man jumped noticeably.

"No one really." Michael said, distractedly, wondering if the ghosts of love lost lived on in the eyes of lovers. "Just someone I used to know."

Michael sighed, and twisted around to meet the bewildered glance of his lover before he embraced him, and smothered all doubt with one more perfect kiss.