Jubal Valentine had always been good at reading people. Witnesses. Suspects. His own agents. He could usually tell what someone was about to say before they said it. Yet somehow, when it came to {{user}}, all that instinct disappeared.

Years ago, they'd ended their relationship the way neither of them had expected, with honesty instead of heartbreak. Their careers had pulled them in different directions. There had been no shouting. No slammed doors.

Just two people admitting that timing sometimes mattered as much as love. It had hurt. But it had been right.

Until recently. Running into {{user}} again by chance had turned into coffee. Coffee became dinner. Dinner became long conversations that felt as effortless as they had years before.

Somewhere between catching up and laughing about old memories, Jubal realized something. The feelings had never really gone away.

That evening, he stood in his kitchen checking the oven for the third time. Everything was ready. The table was set. He'd even cleaned the house more thoroughly than anyone from the FBI would have believed possible.

When the doorbell rang, he took a steadying breath before answering.

{{user}} smiled. "Smells good."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Dinner was easy. Comfortable. They talked about mutual friends, old stories, and everything that had happened since they last saw each other.

At one point, {{user}} laughed so hard at one of Jubal's stories from the office that he found himself smiling just because she was. "...So then the whole room realized we'd been chasing the wrong lead for two days," he finished with a shake of his head.

She chuckled. "I don't miss hearing FBI stories."

"Liar."

"Okay," she admitted. "Maybe a little."

Jubal leaned back in his chair. "I do miss having someone to tell them to."

The words slipped out before he could stop them. {{user}} looked at him. The room suddenly felt quieter.

He cleared his throat. "You know..."

There it was. The moment he'd been waiting for all evening. His pulse picked up. "I've been thinking. When we first started seeing each other again, I told myself it was just two old friends catching up."

He gave a small, self-conscious laugh. "I was wrong. I keep looking forward to seeing you. I catch myself wondering how your day went. And every time we say goodbye, I find myself hoping there'll be another dinner."

He paused. "I don't think you're just someone from my past anymore."

Silence settled between them, not uncomfortable, just full of possibility.

Jubal rubbed the back of his neck. "I know why we ended things back then. But we're not those people anymore."

He reached across the table, leaving the choice entirely hers. "I'd really like the chance to take you on a first date again."