C'est Toujours La Meme Merde

LETTING OUT a small tired groan, Emily slid out of her car and grabbed her brief case and go bag before heading up and inside. Boy, was she glad to be home. Using her key in the lock, Emily pushed it open and step through, taking a whiff of the food. One of the best things about having Elle as her housemate, was the food. She couldn't cook to save her life, but Elle could. "Honey I'm home." Emily chuckles as she calls out, placing her bags down by the door before heading into the kitchen "Flight was good, perks of having our OWN PLANE."

"Listen to you bragging," Elle said with a low chuckle, shaking her head. She walked over to Emily, hands reaching out to cup her face, turning it this way and that. "Let me look at you. You didn't get hurt this time, did you?" She frowned a little and tilted her head, letting go of the agent when she was sufficiently convinced that she was all right.

"Did you guys have to drive all that way before that? Or take commercial flights? By the time you'd arrive, there's another five bodies." Elle supposed a private jet made sense for something so time-sensitive. Personally, she'd never liked flying, but she had plenty of irrational things that gave her anxiety.

Elle returned to the pots and pans, making sure their dinner didn't burn. "I got a new picture, by the way. It's on the fridge," she said, pointing at the sonogram that had been pinned there with a magnet. "She's right on schedule with everything. Strong heartbeat, kicking my bladder every chance she gets. I cannot tell you how much I'm looking forward to having my body to myself again. This is getting exhausting."