She'd been twenty minutes out of the shower, toweling her hair and watching some TV when she'd heard the knock. Dick was out working and Carrie, who wasn't really used to visitors (almost all her friends came in through the window or knocked before inviting themselves over), glanced at the door and considered simply not answering. But then there'd been another knock. And it'd been a strong knock. So she'd hopped off the couch and opened the door.
And there was Bruce, aged and with a cane in hand, staring down at her.
Carrie's eyes were wide and vulnerability flashed before she got herself under control. She'd wanted to go to him in her catsuit to avoid emotion and hide behind the mask. She'd had plans of steeling herself before meeting him again, to be completely cold and mean and flounce off into the sunset after a quick exchange of goodbyes. But he'd dashed that against the rocks rather quickly by showing up unexpectedly. Maybe he still knew her well enough and had come before she'd completely sealed her emotions away from him.
No matter what his intent, Carrie got over her surprise quickly. "What do you want?" She asked it with as frigid a voice she could muster, narrowing her eyes and almost glaring at him. She was angry and hurt and it didn't help that he looked quite like the Bruce she'd known back home. She didn't stepped aside. She wasn't sure she wanted him in her home. She hadn't been sure she'd ever wanted to talk to him again - let alone have a conversation with him tonight.