The Expansion of the Universe

Twenty-Nine | "You'll look adorable."

"Elijah."

"Liza."

"Why are you on the counter?" It was a question she never thought she'd ask, but what other choice did she have, when Elijah was literally standing on top of the island in her kitchen, a mop in one hand, a book in the other, and a pair of laboratory safety goggles strapped to his head.

She would have inquired about his, well, supplies, but felt it would be best to approach the situation one confusing aspect at a time, considering she'd woken to his shouting from the kitchen and come down to find, well, this.

Typical Elijah: He rarely did things as expected.

"Liza," he began somberly, "there are literally a bunch of wasps outside, and it's up to us to figure out where they're coming from and exterminate them."

She frowned. "Wasps, outside? Where?" Besides opening the door to let Milo out, and occasionally sitting on the back porch with Elijah, she didn't hover too much directly outside her home.

"Everywhere!" He exclaimed, flinging his hands out so exuberantly that the book—she noted then that it appeared to be a copy of the Webster's Dictionary—was catapulted across the room. It slammed into the pantry door with a loud thud, and Liza couldn't help but flinch at the abrupt sound.

Elijah had enough grace to look sheepish. "That's my bad, sorry," he admitted, before continuing his rant. "Seriously: They're everywhere. I found some on your porch, some on my porch, and one was even in my bathroom, Liza! Now, I can't determine if they're originating from my house or yours, so we'll need to do an in-depth assessment of both locations." With his now free hand, he scratched at the stubble that had begun to grow on his face. "I've already gone through the interior of my headquarters, and there was no evidence of these bastards. That said, I have yet to conduct an exterior patrol on my base; first, I wanted to assess your interior."

God, had he even taken a breath? His lung capacity was surely something impressive.

"We'll start with a quick interview," those dark eyes zeroed in on hers. "Liza, be honest with me: Have you noticed—"

"Were you a swimmer?" She interrupted, so caught in her thoughts that she hadn't truly registered his words. She knew he'd been on the football team, but he'd never mentioned swimming.

But those lungs must only be capable of holding so much air as a result of some kind of underwater sport.

Elijah's brows furrowed with confusion. "No way. Water is terrifying, babe. Have you ever seen that video of the deep sea robot that found an absolutely horrifying, alien-like squid monster?"

Of course she hadn't seen it, considering her history, and Elijah must have realized, because he clicked his tongue and declared, "I'll show you later—you'll hate it as much as I do. Now, back to the business of the wasps."

"Can't we just tell the yard guys?" Well, she wouldn't be telling them anything, but surely Elijah could pass on the complaint of wasps to the yard crew that managed the neighborhood of condos.

Elijah's mouth dropped open, as though he was offended. "No, actually, we can't."

There was a beat of silence as she waited for him to expand upon that statement and, when he didn't, she asked, "Okay, why?"

"Because, Liza," he sounded about as hoity-toity as a private university professor, "then we would seem like total idiots who are completely incapable of getting rid of wasps without assistance."

She raised a single eyebrow in challenge. "I have no issue with that." If anything, the yard crew, maintenance crew, neighbors, and many delivery guys who dropped off boxes for her already thought she was an oddity—she doubted there was much that would change their view of her.