The afternoon passed uneventfully, and would have been like any other day in which their time off from work had coincided. It would have been, except for Ellette's darkened mood. Normally they'd banter. She'd tease him about his eclectic tastes in everything from music to food, and he'd simply shrug it off and explain why she should really try this or that. Today though, she was, understandably quiet.

Even when he'd brought out the squash shaped like ruffled flying saucers, she didn't bat an eye. No smart assed remark about his obsession with the farm stand down the street and their strange organic wears. He placed the little, off white, patty pan squash, as he'd called them, carefully along the counter top. Once they were in a neat line, he caught her eye before spinning each one so they looked like a bunch of tops carved by blind men. They wobbled and spun for a relatively short time before each one came to a tottering halt.

She couldn't help but crack as smile at the awkward little vegetable dance. Rand leaned down on the counter then, to her eye level. "I caught that smile." He said, smugly.

She laughed, and sat up. "Yes, portly, spinning top squash are so very amusing. You're quite the comedian this afternoon. As lowly as prop comics are, I still give you kudos for the effort."

He gave her a mock bow before ruffling her short cropped black hair and going about his business in the kitchen. She stared after him, her mind drifting back to the water that swallowed them both whole. First the boy, then Rand... granted, Rand was alive and well, but did it mean something?

Even with a full stomach, she found it hard to relax once Rand had shooed her back to the couch. She'd made an attempt to help with the dishes, as was their routine, but he was having none of it. With the clatter of dishes and the buzzing radio piping out oldies, she worked with a frustrated determination to crochet a scarf. Though she'd likely never wear the thing, she was sure she could find someone who would need the extra warmth it could provide despite all its flaws.

After a while, Rand settled down beside her on the couch and fiddled with his guitar, working through scales. It was little more than slightly melodic noise to Ellette, yet it set the mood and helped calm her nerves. She found herself drifting again, despite her determination to not sleep. She couldn't help but fear another repeat performance of the dream in the depths. Between blinks, she was gone before she knew it.