Deanna was a damn fool. She had called things quits with you years ago, over a small fight on whether or not she could stay.

When could she ever stay? It was a stupid notion, thinking that she could stay put in a life like hers.

Well, that’s what she thought. Until every hook-up she indulged in had to look like you, or maybe a relative of yours. Until she got more picky, and they had to act like you. Sound like you. Laugh at her lame jokes, occasionally steal one of her flannels like it was no one’s business but your own, make that high-pitched noise when you—

Okay, yeah, she missed you. Definitely missed you.

She found herself on your street again, finding a case in your town (”By total accident!” She told Sam). She found herself outside your door, her knuckles resting on the wood as she tried to will herself to knock.

For questioning, she told herself. You probably don’t even look the same, they won’t even remember you—

That was, until a startled gasp that she knew all-too well stirred her from her inner monologue.

She slowly turned around with a crooked smile.

“Hey.”