"Blue!" Martin hadn't noticed her, small as she is, when he almost walked right into her, and before he could babble an apology, he recognizes her and just grins instead. He's on his third mimosa by now, and while he's certainly got a ways to go before he gets properly drunk, the impulse to go in for an immediate hug is still much easier to accept. He's careful not to disturb her drink when he leans in to put his arms around her. "Christ, it's been ages, how are you?"

He feels quite guilty about that—how long it's been. He made an effort to catch up with many of the people he'd lost touch with over the course of his isolation, but some had fallen through the cracks, especially in the wake of all that's been going on. But he's very happy to see her, and it feels good to be able to just show it.