"I didn't expect to see you in here." Eric, finally moved out of the centre of the celebration and stood at one end of the bar with Nurse Shelia Burrows.

"We were given the rank of Officer, so we could deal more effectively in certain situations. This is one of the benefits."

"Listen about earlier--"

"Nothing to worry about, Lieutenant. We get all kinds of pick-up lines."

"No, that wasn't what that was. You really look a lot like a woman I know . . . back home."

She studied his open face for a moment. "Then I apologize."

"Let's just call it square." He clinked his glass against hers and drank.

"I understand you were the hero of the battle today."

"Please, don't you start. They were the heroes." He nodded toward the noisy crowd. "Did you know the two men we lost?"

She looked away and nodded. "Yes. We collect their personal belongings for shipment home to families. They are so young." Her voice cracked and she set her glass down. "Would you care to join me for a quiet drink away from here - some place less - boisterous?" Her eyes glistened.

"I can't imagine a more pleasant offer, Officer Burrows." They both forced a smile.

******

"These are really neat quarters. We're stacked like pancakes in fixed bunks."

"Yes, we can hear you all singing, 'Kiss me goodnight, Sergeant Major'."

Eric blanched. "Oh, God . . ."

"Not that bad a deal, a little merriment goes a long way over here." She fussed with some things on a small cupboard in the corner, regaining her earlier composure. "There are only five of us assigned to Spitalgate, so we can move our stuff around to suit." She poured two glasses from a bottle out of the cupboard.

"I don't suppose you might have anything to eat would you? It seems ages since I last had any food - or a good cup of coffee."

"I can manage tea, and maybe some biscuits," she smiled, and a glow appeared gradually.

"Shelia, do you believe in déjà vu?" 

He set down their drinks and took her in his arms. Bluebird, Officer Shelia Burrows responded with a murmured 'I could', as their lips met.

******

Eric rolled over at the sound of the ringing phone, and fell onto the floor. He lay stunned, looking up at the ceiling from between the sofa and the coffee table. The phone continued to ring. With great effort, he hauled himself to his feet and went to the kitchen where the wall phone maintained its insistence.

"Hello?"

"Eric, what the hell is keeping you this time? We're all here waiting for you."

"Waiting? Waiting where?'

"The coffee shop, man. In Your Dreams, remember?"

"In my - why . . . when . . .?"

"Are you drunk? We had a date to meet at the coffee shop to celebrate after you made such a big deal about it. It's great, you gotta get over here. Hurry up, we're saving you a seat. The place is packed."

"Celebrate what?" He massaged a temple.

"Funny man. Like you don't know. Just move your ass, time's a wastin'."

Eric leaned on the wall, the receiver dropped, bounced once and dangled on the spiral cord, against his leg. He pinched his eyes shut, opening them slowly, and looked around. His kitchen. His apartment. His calendar and clock. His bewilderment.

He replaced the receiver and sloughed off down the hall to the bathroom, and stared in the mirror. 'Thank Christ I recognize you." The cold water ran and he sloshed it over his face and neck, feeling his concentration gradually return. Dressed, a swallow of some cold grapefruit juice from the fridge, and he left the apartment for his car.

The shop looked as he remembered, and he went inside cautiously, shocked to see the crowd of people, all from the company, standing around the full tables. From the corner he caught a wave and saw Murray urging him over.

"Man, you really need a keeper. What happened?"

"Not sure." He sat down and found himself beside Deborah. "Hi."

"Hi, back, Eric. This place is really great, I'm sorry it was closed the other night, but we're here now."

He looked around the table and found he was sitting with Gil, Cheevers, Murray, Darlene and even Chris Delucci. All the faces from his weird dream suddenly registered. Burgess and the doc. Sawyer, Nurse Burrows. He tried to focus but the noise in the small shop shattered his attention.

He turned and whispered to Deborah. "What's the occasion?"

"Are you kidding me? We won the client's account with your brilliant ad."

"We did?"

"You shot the competition right out of the sky, Holder." Gil's face was beaming with excitement.

"What did you say?"

"Are you on something, Holder?" Deborah showed a tiny frown.

"No, no . . . you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The sudden punch on his arm got his attention. "Hey, go grab a coffee, it is the best, man."

Eric got up slowly, clocking the expressions of his friends, and pushed through the congratulatory crowd to the counter.

"May I help you?" The girl, was the same but the smile was different and there was no glow.

"Double-double, please. Make that the special."

"They're all special, sir." The smile was minimal.

"No, I mean the IYD special."

"We have Light, Intermediate, or Deep, sir."

"Do you know my name?"

"Should I?"

"You don't remember me? I've been in here a few times." He said over the noise. "You even sat with me at that table over there."

"I'm sorry, I think you are mistaken."

Eric stood contemplating the girl. Her face was open and honest, and he had no proof of anything. He inhaled and sighed, stay calm, Holder.

"I'll have the intermediate, please."

Back at the table, the others were all discussing the ad and how old Folger had nearly blown an artery celebrating.

"Man, you should be paying for all these, with the bonus you got."

"I got a bonus?"

"Okay, that's it. Just what the hell is up with you?" Murray's face was set in a frown.

Looking at the curious faces staring at him, Eric wondered if he could really tell them what he had experienced. It sounded so crazy to him! He figured, it had to come out sometime or it would be a constant weight around his neck. What was the worst that could happen? He didn't want to think about that.

"We're waiting."

"Okay, but you're going to think I'm crazy."

"As opposed to now?" Murray punched his arm, and Eric felt almost dizzy, recalling Bridges' exact same reaction.

He took a breath and began. How being selected to do the ad campaign by himself made him feel lost and helpless. Then he told the parallel story of finding himself in a similar situation in WW1, as a pilot. How he was alone at first, then finding the map and figuring out where he was.

Then back in his office, getting a glimpse of an idea from his rough sketches that set him on the right path in creating the ad. The pressure of being tasked with seeing that the company won the competition and didn't have to downsize.

He continued on, telling them of his important mission and of the other pilots who were supportive and encouraging. How he tackled the job as a fighter pilot, and in the end saving his squadron. Then back here, finding out he had designed an ad that was successful and gave them a win.

The following celebration and accolades.

He hesitated, glancing at Deborah. "I also met a nurse that reminded me of you." Her face turned pink and she felt all eyes on her. "Not just you, Deb, all of you. All of you were other people in this- this- whatever it was."

Nobody spoke. They just sat quietly staring at him, then with some uncomfortable coughing and shuffling of feet, they began getting ready to leave, with fabricated excuses, wishing him all the best.

Eric remained, head down and eyes closed. This was what he feared. A hand on his shoulder made him look up, and was surprised to see the girl with a glowing smile.

"They'll come around eventually, Mr. Holder."

"You- it was you, all the time. Why--"

"Some things don't require an explanation, just the magic of the experience. Yours is over now. You solved whatever it was that spawned your experience here."

She turned to go and Eric stood. "If I come back here, will I see you again?"

The smile spread warmly as she answered. "In your dreams."

******

Outside, Eric was surprised to see Deborah waiting.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't want to make a scene in front of the others."

"Thanks, I'm fine. I made enough of a scene on my own."

"That was quite a tale."

"Wasn't it though. I can imagine the ribbing from now on, and the reputation I'll carry to my grave."

"I was actually quite taken with it, Eric. When you talked about that nurse, I felt a kind of- of connection."

He looked at her, his mind racing over the time spent with Shelia, and began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"How much coffee did you have?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

He offered his arm and she took it, puzzling over his continued laughter.

"Everything, Deb. It has to do with everything."

END

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A/N - To all who read this entry, I give grateful thanks. I would also welcome all criticisms and suggestions before I complete the submission form.