For as much as he's settling quickly into his usual cloak of confidence--Michael will be able to tell that it's not quite right.

"A little bird told me," he says, pacing the edge of the room. He stops at a table and nudges at one of the small old-school shakers and nudges it right off the floor to shatter. He glances back at Michael. "Though I will admit," because he doesn't really think he'll be able to hide it, "I wasn't expecting it to be this version of you."