"Bye, Chris," Will told his one-night stand, leaving him with a firm handshake as he exited the hotel room. It was more like the ending of a business meeting than of a weekend-long affair to forget. Chris was off to do some bike race across the French countryside, and Will knew they wouldn't meet again. There was simply no motivation to.

As Will stepped into the shower, he figured that he might as well make a plan for the rest of the day. He had hopped the plane at the spur of the moment and had no luggage to speak of. At LaGuardia he had bought an overnight kit so that he at least had the essentials - toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, shampoo, and conditioner.

The water ran down his body in waves, massaging his skin and washing away the unclean feeling he had been left with after his night with Chris. His skin prickled as goose bumps rose while his mind filled with thoughts of Karen. She was here. They were far, far away from New York, from Jack and Grace and everyone who knew them and the lives they lived there. He knew he shouldn't act on this opportunity, but his heart was telling him he couldn't pass it up.

In a fit of nervous energy, Will hurriedly washed the shampoo from his hair, just barely getting out all of the suds before fumbling with the knob of the shower. His hands slipped around on the wet metal, but as soon as he had successfully turned off the water, he jumped out of the shower and ran into the bedroom. He didn't even bother grabbing a towel to wrap around his naked body.

He reached for his cell phone and clumsily found Karen's cell phone number in the address book. It rang twice before he heard her pick up.

"Hi," she answered, knowing it was him.

"Hi," he breathed back. His mind was racing so fast that he didn't even know where to begin. After several seconds of silence, Karen spoke.

"So, are you going to say anything, Wilma? You know this dead air space is valuable time that I can't get back." Her tone was teasing, sarcastic. This was the Karen he knew so well. He smiled as her quip made him remember why he was calling her in the first place.

"I want to see you."

Pause.

"I want to see you too."

"Where?"

"Someplace public."

"Will Stan be with you?"

"No. But honey…I don't trust myself with you."

Karen's sudden admission made Will's head spin. That's all it took for him to know she was feeling exactly what he was feeling, that time had not erased the feelings stirred up a year ago.

Karen spoke again.

"There's a café near my hotel, on Avenue Suffren. Meet me there in half an hour."

"Ok," Will agreed, getting ready to hang up. But before he did, he thought of one last thing he wanted to tell her. "Karen?"

"Yeah?"

"I've missed you."

It was an odd sentiment - they had seen each other at least twice a week for the past year, although they were never alone together, and it had only been a couple of days since Will had last seen her, in Grace's office. But Karen knew exactly what he meant.

"Me too, honey. Me too."

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Thirty-five minutes later, Karen was seated at a small, antiquated table for two at a sidewalk café, just steps from the Eiffel Tower. Despite the fact that it was so close to the hottest tourist spot in Paris, it was a small and quiet place; somewhat off the beaten path with few other customers at 10 o'clock in the morning. It was an overcast day, but Karen had still elected to wear her sunglasses. As she waited for Will, she fidgeted with them nervously, pulling them from her face and using the hem of her sleeve to wipe off fingerprints that weren't really there to begin with.

When she looked up and saw Will standing behind his chair across the table from her, silently observing her, her stomach twisted into knots. She put on a brave face though, and her icy look did not go unnoticed by Will.

"Sorry, I know you like to be the last one to arrive," he told her, semi-sarcastically as he pulled the chair out from the table and sat in it. He was itching to touch her.

"Yeah, well, just make sure it doesn't happen again," she told him, rolling her eyes and reaching for a piece of the bread that was sitting in a basket on the table between them.

"I'll do my best," Will told her, mock-seriously. He grinned at the exasperated look she gave him as she buttered her bread. "I just don't really know my way around Paris."

"Have you ever been here before?" she asked him. She took a bite.

"A couple of times, but a long, long time ago," he explained, reaching for his own share of the baguette. "Grace and I came here once."

Karen nodded.

"I'll give you the grand tour later," she offered. He swallowed.

"Well I don't know when I'm going to have time…I have to catch a plane this afternoon," Will told her. Earlier in the morning - actually, first thing after waking up - he had called the airline to schedule a return flight to New York.

"What? Why?" Karen didn't waste any time showing her distress at his announcement. She had let her guard down.

"Because," Will shrugged, "I came here on a whim and now there's nothing keeping me here…" he told her. His last words were almost a challenge to her. Her posture tensed and she swiftly took her sunglasses off to look into his eyes.

"Will…" she began, but before she could say anything, a waiter appeared at her side, pen and paper in hand, ready to take their order.

"What do you want?" the waiter asked Karen, his French accent thick. She never took her eyes off Will as she smiled and ran her tongue over her bottom lip subtly. She knew exactly what she wanted.