"I need to borrow your camera, man."

Collins stood at the door to the loft, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other as Mark rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on him after being awakened at some ungodly hour of the morning.

"My… my camera?" Mark asked, a bit nervously. While he took the camera with him wherever he went, the filmmaker was not eager to hand it over to someone else. Not even one of his best friends.

"Yeah. Your camera. You know – that thing you take pictures with?" Collins asked, a bit impatiently. He checked his watch. He had less than two hours to get this done, and waiting for Mark was not helping matters.

"I don't know, Collins. I was going to do some filming today," Mark said weakly, eyes darting from Collins to the floor and back.

"Mark, you film every day! I'm sure you could part with it for a little while. Besides, that's not the camera I want, anyway. I want your regular camera," he pushed his way past Mark and into the loft, heading for his friend's room. Once there, he began digging through Mark's drawers, trying to find the camera in question.

Mark hurried into his closet to grab the camera, a pained expression on his face. "Okay, okay. Just… just put that down," he said in a strained voice as Collins lifted up a box of his videos. He held the camera out to his friend before quickly moving to the box and checking it for damage. He shot a look over his shoulder at Collins, who simply grinned triumphantly.

"Now," Collins said, holding the camera out to Mark, "Take a picture of me."

Mark blinked. "Take a picture of you?" He asked, confused. What the hell was Collins up to? Collins simply nodded, pushing the camera toward Mark, who took it, uncertain.

Collins moved to stand in front of one of the few blank walls in the loft, smiling broadly, and Mark briefly thought that his friend had lost it. He shook that thought out of his head, knowing that Collins usually had a good reason… well, a reason, for doing the things he did. He was sure it would all become clear in time – at least he hoped it would.

Mark had barely snapped the picture before Collins was moving toward him. The taller man grabbed the camera from him and walked quickly out of the loft. Before he shut the door, he called out, "I'll bring it back later," and then he was gone, leaving a bewildered Mark staring after him.

Collins ran down the sidewalk, rewinding the film in the camera as he went. He bumped into a man walking his dog, but barely registered it, so focused was he on the task at hand. When he finally arrived at the little photo shop on 14th, he had already popped the film out of the camera. Handing the cartridge over to the man behind the counter, he quickly rattled off his instructions. "I need you to develop the last picture on this roll of film. Make it as small as you can. I'll be back in an hour." With that, he turned and left the store, not even acknowledging the man's startled expression.

Outside the shop, Collins stopped and looked around. Now came the hardest part. Where to find a locket? After a moment's thought, Collins decided that if he was going to do this, he was going to do this right. After a quick stop at a nearby ATM, he headed to Tan Marai Jewelry, not far from where he was. This was one of Angel's favourite places to go window-shopping, so he knew it would be perfect.

Forty-five minutes later, Collins had found the perfect locket and was heading back to the photo shop. He pulled the locket out of the box and examined it closely, a satisfied smile on his face. It was small, in the shape of a heart and made of 14-karat gold with a small diamond in the centre. It was simple, but it was just right.

Collins picked up his pace, looking at his watch once more. He had only 20 minutes before he was supposed to meet Angel. He flew into the photo shop, grabbed the picture, slapped a bill on the counter and hurried out again. Sitting on a bench, he went to work. He slipped Angel's nail scissors out of his pocket and trimmed the picture of himself until all that was left was his head and shoulders. Carefully, he slipped the picture into the locket, before repeating the process with a picture of Angel that he usually kept on his desk at work. Holding the locket up, he smiled at his work, satisfied, then leapt off the bench and ran toward the little diner near where Angel liked to drum.

As Collins neared the diner, he slowed to a walk, trying to catch his breath. Looking in the window, he saw Angel sitting at a table, waiting for him. She looked as sad as she had when she had left to drum this morning, and Collins' heart broke at the sight.

The day before, Angel had been drumming at her usual spot, lost in the music, when a large man had approached her. Angel was not a violent person, but she could hold her own, and when the man tried to take her money, she fought back as best she could. Unfortunately, this time Angel's size made a difference. She simply didn't have the muscle to fight this guy off and he had left, not only with her money, but with her locket. The locket her Grandmother had given her before she left home.

Collins' throat tightened as he remembered how she had come home. He'd never seen his Angel so despondent, so sad. He had held her as she cried, telling him the story of her Grandmother, how she had supported Angel when no one else had. Her grandmother had passed away, and the locket was all she had to remember her by. Collins had stroked her hair, rocking her and whispering soothing words to her until she fell asleep in his arms.

This morning, Angel had been distant, dressing quickly and heading out early to drum, saying she needed the release. Collins hadn't wanted her to go, was worried that the man would come back, or that something else would happen to her. He couldn't dissuade her, though, and settled for meeting her for coffee at 10. He hoped that he would be able to convince her to come home then.

Taking a deep breath, Collins walked into the diner and sat down across from Angel in the booth she had chosen.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

"Hi honey," she replied, smiling a little, though it didn't reach her eyes.

Collins sipped on the coffee Angel had ordered, quietly, thumb running over the back of her hand. After a few minutes, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the locket, folding his fingers over it so Angel couldn't see it.

"Angel," he began, still holding her hand, "I know how much your Grandmother meant to you, and I know there's nothing I can do to replace what you lost, but…" he faltered a little, suddenly worried about what her reaction would be.

Angel regarded him curiously. "But what, Collins?" she asked, voice small.

Collins cleared his throat, looking into her eyes, "But I wanted to give you something. Something that will show you how much I care about you, how much I love you. Just like your Grandmother did." He opened his hand, holding the sparkling locket out to her.

Angel's breath caught in her throat as she gazed down at Collins' hand. The locket was absolutely beautiful. It was just like the one her Grandmother had given her, only this one had a diamond in it. She stared at the locket for a long moment, before lifting her eyes to meet Collins'. The love she saw written there brought tears to her eyes and a smile to her lips.

Delicately, Angel took the locket from him. Opening it, she let the tears flow, unable to hold them back any longer. Angel and Collins. She didn't know how he had managed this, but in that moment, she didn't care. Slipping out of the booth, Angel moved to sit beside Collins. "Put it on me," she whispered, holding it out to him.

Collins gently placed the necklace around Angel's neck, kissing her shoulder briefly, then turned her to face him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Love you, Angel," he said, brushing his fingertips over her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, briefly, then sat back again, just smiling at her.

Angel smiled back, taking his hands in hers and standing up. "I love you, too, Collins," She looked down, fingering the locket, then back at Collins. "I think I'm ready to go home now," she said softly, tugging him toward the door.