Honestly, Kitty had assumed he would look the same. She had never even deigned to think that he wouldn't look like the same Mike that she had been with. She never would have assumed he'd be younger. He was still Mike, though. He wasn't the Mike that died, though. He didn't have the same baggage that he carried around with him. He didn't have the same experiences that her Mike had. Kitty could remember how she and Mike had given dance lessons and how the two of them had worked together when they danced themselves.
Remembering didn't help anything right now. He wasn't her Mike.
His grin was just slightly infectious and drew the corners of Kitty's mouth up. Part of Kitty wished that she didn't feel like she knew this version of Mike, but she still felt like she did. Nodding a little bit, Kitty snorted. "Definitely weird. Even though you're obviously not--," Kitty cut herself off before she said her Mike, she even had to lick her lips before she continued, "Even though you're obviously not the same Mike exactly."
Looking at the wooden log, Kitty nodded. "Absolutely. You can ask me any question you want. And I've definitely got time." Kitty automatically moved to take a seat on the wooden log, watching Mike.