It's not really a good idea for Adam to be in a bar right now. He has to be at work by 7 tomorrow morning, and his willpower's never been quite the same since Tracy left. At least, not with matters that aren't strictly work-related
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The rustling of the newspaper is distracting when he's trying to mope and drink work. He glances up to fling a few choice, irritated words at whoever's reading it.
"Could you not--"
It takes him that long to recognize her, after four years and a different hairstyle.
Oh, man. It's been forever. He still thinks about her sometimes, when a junior analyst asks a question that he remembers her asking, or whenever he realizes his mistake after spacing out and forgetting to set the group permission on a volume.
He shrugs. "Yeah, the dress code in Denver is a little stricter." On the one hand, he likes it--he's always been in favor of keeping the CTU atmosphere solemn and buttoned-up, but it just tends to remind him how far he is from California.
As does this. It's wonderful to see an old colleague, even if they hadn't always gotten along, but all the pleasant conversation dies on his lips when he notices that the spark in her eye that he'd remembered isn't there anymore.
She smiles slightly. "Do the field agents there hate wearing ties as much as - " her smile falters and she glances down. "I don't know what the dress code's like there now." From what they did to her dad, she's thinking they wear colors that don't show blood.
"Peachy," she takes a sip of juice. "You were smart to get away from California."
She's drinking a glass of orange juice and looking through the L.A. Times.
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"Could you not--"
It takes him that long to recognize her, after four years and a different hairstyle.
"Kim?"
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"How do - " her expression softens. "Adam?"
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"Yeah. It's...wow. It's, uh, been a while."
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The years have been okay to him, which surprises her, since she's seen so many destroyed.
"It has," she agrees. "You wear suits now?"
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As does this. It's wonderful to see an old colleague, even if they hadn't always gotten along, but all the pleasant conversation dies on his lips when he notices that the spark in her eye that he'd remembered isn't there anymore.
It has been a long four years.
"How've you been?" he asks cautiously.
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"Peachy," she takes a sip of juice. "You were smart to get away from California."
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