[just a little lie] there could be markets in Chile
Elle: Our fruit baby is a prune now.
Sylar: ... prunes are gross.
Elle: I don't even let my fingers get pruney.
Sylar: Is there another fruit we can compare it to.
Elle: The app says it's the size of a prune. I don't even know how big a prune is.
Sylar: Do they even have prunes in Chile?
Elle: Hmmm... maybe there's a market.
Sylar: We can go prune hunting tomorrow?
Elle: Sounds fantastic.
Sylar: Good. [just don't expect him to eat the damn thing, 'cause ew]
Elle: [don't eat the bb]
Sylar: [not the bb]
Elle: [yay]
Sylar: [what is it with people thinking he's some kind of weird, crazy cannibal?]
Elle: [had been joking?]
Sylar: [so was he. :-P]
Elle: [blames hormones]
Sylar: [it's okay. he loves you anyway]
Elle: [awww, now she's all chin wibble smiley]
Sylar: [aw]
Elle: [hormones, man, hormones]
Sylar: [thank God he doesn't have that problem]
Elle: [he's got empathyyyyyy]
Sylar: [her mood swings are pretty much indistinguishable from his own, so he can't really tell the difference?]
Elle: [just wants to curl up and fall asleep with him now]
Sylar: [sounds good to him]
Elle: [bb has bones, and is starting to get fingernails]
Elle: [curls up with him]
Sylar: [wraps an arm around her, pulling her close. how long before it has a heartbeat?]
Elle: [it has heartbeat, but not one that can be heard yet, next week. week twelve it can be heard]
Elle: [it's past midnight - bb is now officially big as a fig]
Sylar: [ ... really needs to find a way to get his hearing back. wants to hear!]
Elle: [would feel kind of weird if he could hear it and she couldn't though]
Sylar: [why?]
Elle: [cause she'd want to hear too]
Sylar: [can't help there]
Elle: [well, he can't hear it yet either, so at least they're even]
Sylar: [lame. wants to hear it!]]
Elle: [kisses him to distract from the not hearing]
Sylar: [kisses her back, surprisingly softly]
Elle: [smiles, with a bit of a hum, against the kiss]
Sylar: [pulls back after a moment, forehead resting against hers lightly, and contents himself to watching her]
Elle: [sighs a bit softly, just content in the moment, staying close]
Sylar: [slides a hand up into her hair, combing his fingers through it idly]
Elle: [shifts a bit, just to settle against him more comfortably]
Sylar: [steals another little kiss]
Elle: [smirks at that gesture]
Sylar: [used] I should probably stop that. [so, you know, she can rest or whatever]
Elle: [pouts] Why stop? I like it.
Sylar: [kisses her again, briefly] My mistake.
Elle: [makes an used sound]
Sylar: [arches his eyebrows a bit as he pulls back]
Elle: [brushes her fingertips lightly against his brow] Hi.
Sylar: [makes a little face -- mostly because that feels weird] Hi.
Elle: [it's just a soft gesture, as if she'd sweep his bangs off his forehead, if he had bangs] I'm glad we went away for a bit.
Sylar: So am I. I was getting sick of DC.
Elle: [nods, still keeping her focus on him] We could give it all up. Make Nathan retire, some freak plane crash. Just leave it all behind. Honestly, how widespread would it even be if you were really still out here?
Sylar: Noah and Angela would know. [of course, they don't have the Haitian anymore ...]
Elle: [shrugs] So they know. They haven't been looking for you so far, why would they start now? We could just.. leave. [moves in closer to him, brushing a kiss to his mouth] No more closed door meetings, no more committee brunches...
Sylar: If they thought I killed Nathan, they would. [and Bennet's paranoid enough]
Elle: [shrugs] They don't even realize you're still out there though. We've been so careful... and you look like you when we're here, when we go other places. We could just pick one. [she doesn't know why she's so into this idea now, but maybe it's because there's a baby on the way that she doesn't want to have to learn two faces for daddy]
Sylar: [yeah, he's thought about that a bit, too. the kid wouldn't understand the need for secrecy, so he wouldn't be able to know them with his own face ... and the thought of that kind of sucks. on the other hand, though, he sort of likes all the power Nathan has. makes a little face] I'll think about it.
Elle: [she'll stay by his side, regardless of the choice, but it was just a thought she had, and she'll do some more distracting via kiss right now]
Sylar: [kisses her back a little distractedly. ... would really like his own face back ...]
Elle: [just wants him to be happy, regardless of how that happens]
Sylar: [pulls away after a moment] So, no more committee brunches ... what would we do?
Elle: [shrugs] Whatever we wanted?
Sylar: [how very unspecific] Right.
Elle: [she hadn't thought THAT part out] Well, we'll have a kid. So, we could take care of it. Move to Bali... or Chile.
Sylar: Or maybe go back to New York for a bit. [is, admittedly, a bit homesick]
Elle: [nods, keeping close] We could do that. Get a loft in Manhattan. Ditch the giant mansion.
Sylar: [likes the giant mansion! ... wouldn't mind a loft, though. it'd still be home and that's the important thing] We could.
Elle: [they could eventually get a giant mansion, that was theirs not stolen from petrelli's]
Sylar: [indeed they could]
Elle: [for now though they could be all minimalist with open spaces and high ceilings]
Sylar: [ ... wonders if the Company still owns Isaac's loft. would love to own that particular building]
Elle: [they could use their pull to put certain properties under Elle's name legally, so that when they leave it's all "done" so to speak]
Sylar: [totally laying claim to Isaac's apartment. good times there]
Elle: [will help him make a list of good properties the Company owns]
Sylar: [is liking this idea more and more]
Elle: [is amused]
Sylar: [is easy to please?]
Elle: [is not complaining]
Sylar: [pulls her a little closer, idly, still thinking about it]
Elle: [settles comfortably close]
Sylar: [just for the record? is so not turning into Mr. Mom when the kid is born. is not going to be creepy weird future him]
Elle: [would be amused by the apron]
Sylar: [hell no. no aprons. no waffles -- well, maybe waffles. no being a spinless douche]
Elle: [apron doesn't equal spineless, it means less mess on expensive slacks]
Sylar: [the apron is stupid. so is the whole sweatpants look]
Elle: [amused]
Sylar: [so stupid. dear God]
Sylar: [and they're not naming the kid Noah]
Elle: [wouldn't have dreamed of it]
Sylar: [good girl]
Elle: [beams]
Sylar: [ ... what are they naming the kid?]
Elle: [not a fruit]
Sylar: [yeah, no. no fruit names]
Elle: [won't happen. She'll get a book of names?]
Sylar: [sounds good. calling him -- or her, whatever -- kid would probably be bad]
Elle: [yes. or hey you]
Sylar: [yeah, bad plan]
Elle: [exactly] I'm hungry.
Sylar: [glances] We could go to dinner, make a night of it.
Elle: [she had been comfortable, but... she's easily swayed] Sounds good. [beams... and they head out]