Fabian looked the young girl over, and felt a strange sense of nostalgia. She looked just like her mother, just like her - and while most men might look back on such a woman with fond memories. For Fabian it was more acute recognition. He knew Megan's face here far better than Hestia's - yet this was the stranger, and her mother his 'old' friend.
"Hello Megan. I suppose you know who I am." He wasn't sure he could say it out loud quite yet. He hadn't even said it the night she came, and the truth had come about. He had thought it plenty, but making something verbal made it real. He looked about, still rubbing his wrist at the few locals around them.
"I don't suppose you drink tea, do you?" That'd almost be too much to ask for, and more so he should know this. Unwritten rules stated that he should know such things.