You've barely been in Seattle twelve hours, but the Archfield already feels smaller than it should. A suitcase half unpacked, coffee gone cold by the window, and a stack of case notes — or work notes, really — waiting on the desk.

A knock breaks the quiet. Two firm raps, not the hesitant tap of hotel staff.

You open the door slowly,

Across the threshold stands a woman — striking red hair swept back, travel-wrinkled but still elegant in a pale blouse and charcoal slacks. She holds an envelope and a slim white box.

“Hi,” she says, “This was under my door. Looks like it’s actually yours.”

You raise your eyebrows then takes the envelope. Sure enough — you're name, scrawled in marker by someone at the front desk. “Ah. Thanks.”

She gives a polite smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes fully. “No problem. I’m Addison Montgomery. I’m here… well — family stuff, mostly.”

You nod once, instinctively reading between the lines. “{{user}}. Also here for work,” you offers, deliberately keeping it vague.

Addison’s gaze flicks, almost reflexively, from the badge or work lanyard tucked at your hip to you're eyes. “Long stay?”

“Just a few days,” You sigh “Hopefully.”

She gives a small, almost tired laugh. “Same. Though nothing about this trip feels short enough.”

You hesitate slightly. “Sorry. Sounds rough.”

“Yeah,” she says, voice dropping a note. “My ex-husband… it’s complicated. Seattle isn’t exactly a vacation spot for me right now.”

You nod, quietly respectful of the boundary. “Well. Thanks again for bringing this over.”

“No problem,” Addison says, stepping back into the hall. Then, almost as an afterthought: “If you get anything with my name on it, I answer to Addison.”

“Deal,” You smile softly.

She glances back, softer this time, like the armor slips for half a second. “Nice to meet you, {{user}}. Really.”

And then she’s across the hall again, door closing behind her with a quiet click.

You look down at the envelope, then at Addison’s door.

Two people in borrowed rooms, both carrying work — and something heavier — behind the door.