Miguel listened to the summary of the events in Paris, raising an eyebrow at the mention of his other self joining in the fighting, but then he supposed he would have done exactly the same thing if he hadn't been a very small boy or a skinny teenager. "Vive la Resistance, in that case," he replied, before ducking his head a little. The lights in the elevator had been shining directly onto his face, so he looked down towards his feet and pinched at the bridge of his nose.
And then they were moving again, with thoughts of second Christmases in his head, and second new years. He grinned at the idea of crashing through Darcy's front door again, despite his headache, and wondered if Sarah had made more of the Blue Stuff recently. "If she does do Christmas over again, you'll join us. Right?"
It was snowing on them as they walked through the corridor. Shocking wonderful.