I do not own The 39 Clues.

He spotted her hair the second she stepped into the café, the familiar red speckled with snow from the softly falling flakes outside. She bought a coffee at the counter, then scanned the room until her eyes locked with his and she made her way toward him, through the clumps of people milling about.

"Not really your kind of place, Ian," she said as she set her purse and coffee down and slid into the booth, the corners of her mouth curving up into a small smile. "I expected something a little more...upscale." She fiddled with the straps of her bag, a nervous habit, Ian could see, one that had replaced her stutter. If he was being completely honest, the lack of a stutter threw him off. It seemed so unlike Amy.

"It seemed like your kind of place," he told her. He swallowed nervously. What if she hated this place? He didn't want to insult her. Far from it, in fact. A subject change would be for the best, he decided. "Er, how has business been recently?" Her face remained unemotional except for another smile, barely there, a distant memory of the blushing, stuttering girl who had won the clue hunt.

"Not bad," she told him, her fingers wrapping around the brown cardboard cup for warmth. "You?"

"Same as usual, I suppose."

They were quiet for a minute, having run out of ways to make small talk. Ian supposed there wasn't really much common ground between them. After all, what did one say to a girl he hadn't seen in years?

Amy, surprisingly, broke the silence. "I was surprised to get your call," she admitted. "It was a little out of the blue, you know." He nodded. He knew. "But," she continued, "I guess it's nice to meet up again. Are you okay, though? You've been very quiet."

"I...ah, I wanted to ask you something," he finally blurted out. "Would you like to go to dinner sometime? Or-or maybe we could see a show if dinner wouldn't... or maybe-" He couldn't believe it. He was stuttering, just like Amy had done so long ago. "I mean, I just wanted to apologize for what happened in Korea and-"

"Ian," she said softly, but he seemed to take no notice of her and continued to ramble on nervously. Very un-Kabra-like.

He glanced up eventually, his fingers lacing and unlacing nervously. Why was he so fidgety? "I understand that you're probably feeling hurt and betrayed from what we-I-did to you in Korea, but-"

"Ian."

"Yes?"

Her eyes strayed to the window for a second, gazing at the snowflakes continuing to fall outside. Ian followed the green, realizing that they were harder and more confident than he remembered. He knew that she was the Madrigal leader, which wasn't an easy responsibility, especially with the fighting amongst the branches and the hatred of the Madrigals that continued, despite efforts of their part to ease the tension in the family. Of course her eyes would have hardened after all she had been through. But he wondered briefly if the soft green eyes that had haunted him in dreams for years were just figments of his imagination, a foolish fantasy of a lovesick fourteen-year-old boy.

"Are you still holding on to the clue hunt?" she asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "Korea happened, Ian. We can't deny that. But holding on to those childish things doesn't do anyone any good. He opened his mouth abruptly to-he didn't know what. Protest? Apologize? For once in his life, he couldn't think of anything to say.

"I liked you in Korea," she continued, "and I know you liked me back-no, don't try to deny it." He had opened his mouth again, remembering those green eyes.

Jade. Staring into his. Racing to the top of the rock.

"And I won't forget what happened in Korea. I've learned to live with it."

Fiery hair dancing behind her as she swung the backpack and ruined his shirt. (Not that he really cared all that much.) He was a Cahill too.

"But the clue hunt was a decade ago, Ian. We were fourteen."

The explosion. Dust and rock threatening to bury her. The brush of his lips against-

"I think it's time we both grew up."

Amy stood up suddenly, clutching her coffee in her hands. Ian took no notice. He was lost in his own thoughts, foolish ones, he realized. Hope had always let him down.

"I have to go now," she told him, scooping her purse up from the booth, "Madrigal meeting. I'm sorry I can't stay longer. Maybe we could get together again sometime? We can talk more later."

"Sure," he replied. "Fine. Later."

Before he knew it, she was right beside him, kissing him on the cheek (softly and quickly, because of course, she didn't love him back, as he had to constantly remind himself, not after a decade) and the fiery confident red vanished into white flurries outside.

She was gone.

I hope you liked it. If there's anything that stands out (in a good way or a bad way) and you have time, please consider telling me in a review.

On a side note, I do hope I've described snow okay. I've never actually seen it fall (since I live in a pretty warm climate), so if there's something inaccurate or weird about the way I've described it, please let me know.

Thanks for the lovely reviews everyone! I originally intended for this to be just a single oneshot, but if I can, I might expand it. Don't hold out too much hope for an expanded story (as I'm terrible at updating regularly), but I'll see if I might be able to make it work.

Thank you again for reading!