"New Year"
"Two bloody years!"
Exasperated, Ellie placed one hand on the doorframe and leaned all her weight on her palm, glaring hotly at her visitor. If there was a fondness there also she kept it carefully hidden.
"I think I can count for myself, Miller." Standing on her front doorstep, with short hair and less beard, Alec Hardy looked impassively back at her utterly unruffled by her temper. He was still wearing a suit.
"What are you doing here, Hardy? You leave and now you're back without warning— two years!— and you just expect me to say 'oh, hello, Hardy, how've you been?'?"
He surprised her by smiling. A small smile, yes, but it softened the distance in his eyes. "I've been fine, Miller, thanks for asking."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course now you think you're funny. Tell me, Hardy, why are you on my doorstep at midnight?"
The smile widened. "Just wanted to wish you a happy New Year."
"You don't do 'happy'. Come on, don't just stand there looking like a bum. We'll break open a bottle of wine. That's the way we celebrate New Years here."