"I'm not sure," he says--thoughtfully, remembering last year, sitting beside Denny as the last of the adrenaline dissipated from his system. The gentle snowfall outside, the sensation of lightheadedness coupled with the rare conviction that he was exactly where he belonged. He closes his eyes to sip his scotch, savoring the familiar burn.

"I've been away six months, and"--he turns away from the movie--"as for what might have gone on in that span of time, who can say? I don't--I outstay my welcome. Always and without exception." He smiles wanly in the flickering light cast by the screen. "I do, however, have a friend who I'd like to think would have saved me a cigar."