Summary: Agron and Nasir meet again in a different time, a different place, another life. When past love and memories begin to transcend these barriers, they must embrace them or be crushed by them. Nagron reincarnation fic.

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Alec renews his sweaty grip on the book in his hand. He nervously shifts his weight from left foot to right. There is a young couple speaking in front of him; their voices sound vaguely familiar, as though he'd heard them once as a small child. He suddenly feels as though he is simply too large and clumsy to exist, unable to control his monstrous limbs. The thought crosses his mind that there is something wrong with him medically, because even blind dates don't shake his confidence this much. He glances over his shoulder. He is the last in line.

"My wife is a bit shy, but she and I both want you to know how much we love your books," says the man in front of the signing table. He hands his copies over for a signature, his other hand gently resting on the woman's lower back.

Alec hears the author utter some softly spoken words of gratitude.

"I work in a small book shop on the other side of town, and the day we got in a shipment of your first book, I picked up a copy and could hardly put it down until I'd finished it," gushes the woman in a sweetly mellow voice, smiling timidly. She's very pretty, with bright skin and long dark hair loosely braided down her back. Alec notes that her husband looks like one of the chiseled specimens from a men's underwear billboard that so often draw his attention.

"The first time I saw her was behind the shop desk with her nose buried in your book. She recommended it to me and then I came back every day on my lunch hour to discuss it with her. By the end of the week I'd finally worked up the nerve to ask her on a date. I guess you could say it changed our lives," says the man, smiling at his wife as though she is the only person in the room. Such public intimacy usually makes Alec uncomfortable, but the couple seems so uncommonly genuine that it fails to bother him.

The author says something in return that is undoubtedly polite and gracious, which Alec can't quite make out due to the onslaught of blood pounding in his ears.

"Whom do I make it out to?"

"Sarah and Artie," says the man, presumably Artie. Alec's stomach leaps violently as the couple's books are signed and they make to leave. It's his turn.

When the author lifts his head to meet Alec's gaze, Alec knows there was no amount of mental preparation that could have readied him for this. He feels a powerful shock to his system of something that's like joy, sorrow, lust, and pain all rolled into one. He feels both nauseous and elated. Alec's head is swimming, but he still notices that the man seated before him is somehow equally unnerved.

The author gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Nadim Khouri."

"I-I know," says Alec stupidly. Internally chastising himself, he holds out his hand. "I mean, I'm Alec. Alec Rothschild." The touching of their hands is evocative of wonderful things from his most elusive dreams.

Alec thinks that the black and white photo from the book jacket is not an accurate representation of this flesh and blood Nadim Khouri. His shiny black hair is pulled back and away from the lovely olive brown skin of his face. His dark brown eyes are bright with kind intelligence. The top two buttons of his dark green shirt are undone, revealing a tantalizing smattering of dark chest hair. Alec is certain he has never seen, nor will ever see, a more beautiful man in his life. He gives Nadim his already well-worn copy of To Die Unbound, which is almost painful to part with as it has hardly left his side in the few weeks since he bought it.

Nadim opens to the title page. Instead of immediately putting down his autograph, he lays his slightly splayed hand upon it in a gesture that can only be construed as tender. "You really liked my book," he says with something akin to wonder in his voice. It wasn't an accusation or a question. It was a statement.

"I loved your book," says Alec reverently.

"It was only released at the beginning of the month. How many times have you read it?"

"Six."

Alec has rendered Mr. Khouri speechless and is desperate to fill the silence. "My sister is really into historical fiction. I was never really into it myself, but when I was over at her place, I saw your first book on her kitchen table. I was just sort of drawn to it for some reason. So I started to read it that morning and I didn't stop until I'd finished early the next morning. A story had never made me feel that way before. And when I read your second novel, it was like I knew these characters, I mean really knew them. It was this story about ancient Roman slaves but there was something so familiar about your writing that I got homesick reading it. So I just kept rereading it trying to figure out what it was telling me about myself. And now, I'm kicking myself for getting held up at work and missing your reading and Q and A session, because I was looking forward to that more than I have anything in a long time."

Nadim does not respond, but keeps his gaze rooted to the pages of the book open in front of him. Alec is beginning to feel ill again, so he takes a deep steadying breath. "I'm sorry, I'm making an arse out of myself. I'll take my book and go."

"Have coffee with me."

"What?"

"I noticed a café next door. We could have coffee together and talk. You know, since you missed the Q and A." There is a watery sheen to Nadim's eyes that wasn't there before. Alec tries to convince himself that it is the harsh overhead lighting.

"Sure. I'd love that."

The little bell on the door clangs as the two men walk out into the night, and it dawns on Alec that he knows something about the feeling that overwhelmed him upon meeting Nadim. It is recognition.

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Author's Note: I plan to make this story a two or three shot, though I was surprised to see that it can even work as a one shot. If you lovely readers seem to like the story so far, I will most definitely write more!