He's been skulking behind some handy topiary (it's shaped like a bear! That's fun) furtively smoking a cigar (the second since he got here) and trying to think of what to say. He's rehearsed dozens of things in his head so far.

'Long time no see.'
'You won't believe what's been going on back home.'
'You look great!'
'I know I disappeared on you and everyone else...'
'I can explain.'
'I hope you're not mad at me.'
'I wish I'd told you sooner before I left.'
'I missed you.'

Nothing sounds right. Or if it does, he talks himself out of it a few minutes later. Everything's either too chummy, too flippant, too familiar, too whiny, too lame, too casual, too weird, too-...Okay. So rather than let himself agonize over word choices until it's too late and the shinding's wrapping up, the zed tells himself that by the time this cigar's spent, he has to go. He has to approach Blaze and just say whatever he's decided on.

He finds that he starts smoking it much slower once he's screwed himself to this particular sticking point. And doesn't stop until he hears the soft hiss of the embers meeting the skin of his fingers. Barely even anything left to qualify as a butt. He looks at the burn on his fingers, then the spent stogie in turn. Then sighs. Drops it on the ground, grinds it out underneath one boot.

Okay, partner, time to cowboy up. One foot in front of the other. Try and not overthink each step. Just look casual. Normal. Natural. Good thing he doesn't have a heartbeat or it'd be jumping out of his chest by now. Same goes for working up a sweat.

When Jesse's finally in conversational distance from Blaze and Ghost, hands in his jean pockets, hat tilted back, he gives her a lopsided, gap-toothed smile and says, "Howdy."

...Then kicks himself internally that that's all he's got. Howdy? Howdy!? He's such an idiot.