"Yeah. I guess not." He half-shrugged, making an attempt at lightness. "I guess there's time to figure it out. We get involved in some kind of war every year." He gave her a small smile, which she returned, and he held her gaze steadily, fighting the desire to say something, tell her again that he missed her. He knew she wouldn't want to hear it, that saying it aloud would ruin this moment.

As if she had read his mind, she looked down at her book, slightly uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said softly, and she looked up at him again. "I'm sorry for dumping all this on you. I'm sure it wasn't what you were looking for when you came down here."