So the night started passing by, and Maggie was getting progressively more intoxicated. Combined with the fact that she had started out the night with that one hitter, she figured she was in a good place. She sure felt like she was just fine; deadlines at work and fighting with Peter? It was non-existent, the last thing on her mind. It would be fine because it always was. She was down to half a bottle and she made her way into the kitchen, sitting down at the kitchen table with Morgan and her boyfriend Dave; she lit up a cigarette and smiled as behind them, Henry entered the room again, articulating and gesturing in a wild story.

Footsteps, and another person entering the room. "How goes it? You got room in your fridge for one more six pack?" And in that very moment, the entire world stopped turning. She would have recognized that voice anywhere. She had not expected that she would be hearing that voice here, of all places... and she for a second she couldn't move; then she raised the cigarette to her lips and took an impossibly long drag, needing that feeling. She blew out a thick stream of smoke as Henry laughed and told him that of course he did; he took the six pack and put it in the fridge (not before grabbing one out of the packaging, of course, and another beer for himself).

She could feel him standing there, only a few mere feet away. Then, Henry's voice again. "Oh, I don't believe you guys have met... This is Morgan and Dave." They both waved, said hi. "And this is Maggie." Fuck. She turned around in her chair, gazing over her shoulder, and took in the sight of Micah Walters, standing there with a bottle of beer and a cigarette. Micah Walters. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. I never thought I'd see you again and here you are, standing right in front of me. (He looked like he had seen a ghost.) Somehow Henry realized that this was quite the unusual situation and started stammering slightly, then trailing off and just standing there with a laugh. "Well. I hadn't quite made that connection." There was a flurry of movement and awkward pauses and suddenly, the kitchen was empty. Except for the two of them.

"Are you going to sit down?" she finally asked, her words running together. He said nothing, just walked over and sat down in the chair to her left, raising the cigarette to his lips and realizing that it wasn't lit. She handed him her lighter and sat back, just watched him, sipping her beer and taking slow drags alternately. She was really dizzy; the room was at a tilt and she was trying quite hard to stay upright. "Hi," she murmured. It was kind of silly but the only thing that really made sense. After all, it had been nearly three years since she had seen him last. A hello of some sort was really the only reasonable option.

"Hey, kid." There it was. That voice she remembered. As soon has he spoke the words, he relaxed a little bit, losing the tenseness in his form. This was entirely unexpected and entirely fucked up but it was happening and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

"Fancy meeting you here." He smirked as she slurred slightly; judging by the wine bottle sitting next to her and that hazy look on her face, she was pretty drunk.

"Tell me about it." He took a few drinks of his beer. "How are you acquainted to Henry? I figure he's the connection, considering that we're both at his house."

"Friend of his," she answered. "I met him through Morgan. I made out with him once." Micah laughed. "And you?"

"Oh, we're both studying at Northwestern. You know, doing the grad school/law school thing." She nodded. "He's a good guy."

"Indeed," she answered. She kept staring at him, accidentally... it had just been so long and he so much like she remembered, but different, too... older. (Of course, on the other side of the table, Micah was doing the exact same thing.) "I didn't even realize you'd moved to Chicago." It was one of those things she was thinking and probably shouldn't have said out loud, but she did and there was an edge to her voice that Micah recognized from years earlier. He chugged the rest of his beer, got up to grab another one out of the fridge, and sat down without saying a word. Maggie put out her cigarette and lit another.