What?

The past few weeks hadn't been anything really monumental, unless you counted people from back home crashing a dinner party and claiming Adam was literally their last hope. If she hadn't watched the Star Wars trilogy over the past year, she wouldn't have even been able to make a slight connection from her husband to Obi Wan Kenobi, and the thought of Angela in the Princess Leia hairstyle was amusing in itself. Still the actual words had been said, and the offer out there, and neither of them at the moment were actually thinking about it. Though if there were thoughts about it Elle wasn't letting Adam know, and the same was for Adam.

Instead Elle had been thinking about something else, and even now standing in the kitchen, with a bare foot pressed to her knee and her hand resting on her stomach she smiled absently. Drumming her fingers against her body she sighed, staring into the fridge at the vast amount of food she didn't feel like eating.

Exhaling she shut the fridge door, shoulders sloped down a bit as she moved through their home. There had been something she wanted to bring up with Adam, before Angela and Noah had shown up. It hadn't been anything she was certain of, but she still at least wanted to make it known, that the thought was there.

Padding through the house, Elle returned to the bedroom where Adam was in bed reading. It was still early, and she had been contemplating breakfast, but after seeing the fridge contents, wasn't hungry anymore. Crawling across the covers, her hands pressed to opposite sides of him, smiling at him, "Morning! I have a question to ask."

Most of the time, Elle ignored her cell phone. The tiny beep of noise, or the vibration of it against her wallet in her purse was easy enough to just leave be. A week and a half of contemplating asking the cell service to switch her number just so she could avoid the messages alerting her of things that she didn't want to know. Adam and her had opted to move on, to make a life for themselves away from the ones that turned their backs on him. It was a simple choice, no matter how boring it was at times.

Seated at the edge of the tub, Elle pressed her toes to the wall opposite. Her hands ran down her leg, trying to get lotion to permeate into her skin while it was still warm from the shower. The tie across her waist was taut, her silk robe clinging to her back where wet hair was darkening the fabric. The bathroom door opening, created a slight chill of air, but Elle didn't mind the break from the humidity that had collected in the room. Smiling up at Adam she raised an eyebrow at his raise of an eyebrow, "Always just missing me stepping out of the shower. I'd say you had bad timing, but maybe tonight it's perfect."

Moving toward her he pressed a kiss atop her head, "There are always other evenings for me to work on my timing."

Shutting her eyes, Elle let her hand drift up to his cheek, the light roughness felt to her fingertips, "You need a shave."

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, his hand rubbed across his chin regarding the state of his facial hair. Elle moved off of the edge of the tub and slipped in front of him in the mirror. Her eyes watched his, gazing at his own reflection. "You know we don't have to go back, I know the messages... the things we've been hearing from our contacts. It's not our responsibility anymore. We deserve this life you know."

Elle wasn't sure what he was thinking, but she knew he was thinking about something. Her hand reached for a hand towel, turning to run it under the warm water before wringing it out. Leaning toward him she pressed a kiss to his mouth before pulling back and pressing the heat of the towel to his features. She could see the amusement in his eyes, as she stuck her tongue out at him before taking the towel back and resting it to the counter at her side.

Twisting around a bit she reached for the jar of shaving cream, pulling the small brush out and biting on her bottom lip as she took her hand lightly to the bottom of his chin, tilting it up gently. With small circles, she moved across his jaw and chin, smirking at him. Setting the brush down Elle reached for the straight razor, her thumb resting to the back of the blade lightly as she made the careful strokes. Reaching behind her every so often she rinsed the blade with warm water, but she never took too much risk, even considering he could heal quickly. This was more than a simple sign of trust.

"I'm sort of surprised you don't have to shave more often," Elle remarked as she finished the final strokes beneath his nose. Her thumb pulled at the streak of shaving cream still near his upper lip, before turning around and grabbing the hand towel again to soak with warm water again. Glancing up at him in the mirror she exhaled, "You're a good man Adam, even with everything they want to blame you for, you believed in something, you wanted a better world. There's never anything wrong with that."

Her hand reached behind her to hand him the towel to wipe off any of the stray remnants of shaving cream. Elle let her hands rest to the edge of the counter for a moment before slipping out from in front of him to return to the edge of the tub, "We've worked hard to be where we are, but if you're not happy simply hiding here, hiding who we are, I'll be by your side regardless."

Her hands smoothed along the sides of it, pressing palms to the fabric as it clung to hips and thighs. Taking in a breath she rests her hand to her neckline, feeling the cool press of sterling silver against her skin. A slight chill runs across her bare shoulders, the lack of straps and sleeves more than apparent as she cuts a path across the bedroom. A small blue clutch is resting on the edge of the bed, nothing much at all inside of it, just something to hold a necklace should she get a headache, or a small tube of lipstick if she would need to reapply. Standing at the edge of the bed her foot flexes forward, toes cracking quietly into the plus of the carpet. Once more her hands graze across her sides, smoothing out material that doesn't have enough give to even get wrinkled as it's fit to her form.

Exhaling she takes a seat on the edge of the bed, the dim surroundings of the room makes it sound more silent than she knows it is. The turn of the ceiling fan circulating the air still makes a slight whir of noise, but she mostly hears herself. A constant undercurrent of something alive within her. A secondary pulse, something that pushes more than it pulls and carries with it the chance of death over life. Elle lets her hand rest to her knee. The heel of her palm pressing above as fingertips tap lightly to the skin below. Brushing her fingertips against skin she lifts her hand slightly, just to put distance, air, between her skin and her touch. The current that slips across from the tips of fingers to the rougher skin of her knee barely passes for anything at all.

She wants to readjust the dress. Tug on the hem, shift it so that it doesn't gather at the hip when she sits down in it, but instead she just watches her reflection in the mirror across the way. Blonde hair cascading across her shoulders and blunt cut bangs that sometimes she swears are in her eyes more than she cares for. She assumes that she looks her age at least, tilting her head slightly she lifts her hands into her hair, pulling it back and up trying to see if it makes her look older. Chewing on her bottom lip her hands reach around her hair, trying to pile it up into something that doesn't look like a tangle of hair, but that's all she sees. Exhaling she lets it go, the feel of the ends brushing to her back feels natural, normal even.

Elle's supposed to be getting ready, and in truth she's been ready for over an hour. Silver heels sit by the door waiting for her to slip them on, and clasp the three straps across her ankle. The clutch is now at her side and she could pick that up as well and head to where she's supposed to go. Still there is a sinking feeling in her stomach, that while they are here - something worse is going to happen there. It clings to her, like the taut fabric of her dress. They've made a life though, and she knows that it's safer to be far away from all of it. She's just wondering when all of it will come to their doorstep, because it can't help but come close.

The sound of him in the front room catches her attention, the keys to the car sliding across marble countertops and the clink of bottles in the door to the refrigerator being pulled as he opens the door to take a look.

"Elle? Sweetheart? We'll be late."

"I'll be down in a minute," Elle replies as she stands up adjusting the hem of her skirt as she exits the room, stooping to pick up the shoes as they rest by the door. They have a life, friends, even a thought that they might be able to forget everything that had happened over there. Yet it's growing darker, and she can feel something is wrong, and part of her knows - he knows it too.