He really didn't mean to. He didn't summon it, or anything. He definitely was angling for it to happen again, especially right now, but despite all that, sometimes his memory just offered him a nice but confusing gift just to make sure he didn't start thinking things were straightforward.
At least this knowledge was totally clearcut and unquestionable: she needed him to be her friend right now, and there was no place in that for stray memories of kisses. They might have shared a bed and were wandering up the road to their local cafe for breakfast, but she was grieving and he was support, and other thoughts could go get stuffed.
So Much filled her in on stories about Art, on Will's indignation at getting caught in an actual net, and about his latest grand plan for the picture (a calendar, but every month that passed the picture zoomed closer into Will's face.)
The stories got them to the cafe counter, which Much ordered first because his stomach had decided what he wanted straight away (it was a bacon bagel) and then he looked down at his phone to find the funniest zoom of the net picture to show Marcie once she'd ordered too.
He barely realised the familiar sensation of another immortal - in the back of his mind, he assumed it was just one of the lads - till he and Marcie turned away from the counter to find a seat and Apollo was standing there behind them. Between the pair of them and the exit.
"Good morning," Apollo said, looking taller and brighter than anyone had a right to be on a Monday morning (and this from Much, who enjoyed mornings.) Apollo extended one tones and golden arm out toward a nearby table, where three chairs were waiting. "Take a seat, won't you."