. . .

One Week Later

This was terrible. This was unthinkable.

Legolas stared at the mirror, leaning on the sink. How could this happen?Was he really so human as this?

"Damn it," he growled, before stalking out the bathroom and into the kitchen. All this time nothing like this had happened! Kristine was gone, thank Manwe. She was downstairs in the basement, putting in laundry. But if he was going to do this before she noticed anything…he'd have to hurry.

Kris slammed the washer door shut and pushed the 'start' button. The machine had a nasty habit of stopping half-way through and grinding to a stop. She watched until the white box broke into a quiet, rattling hum, and once satisfied, she pointed at it.

"Stay that way."

Twenty-five flights was a long way to heft a basket, especially when you were hungry. The elevator was being repaired, and she already had to make the trip twice.

"Legolas…?" she panted. When she looked around, there was no sign of a blonde head, human or otherwise. "Uh…Legolas?"

Nothing.

"Why are the kitchen drawers open?" She called louder, glancing around. And then an angry, frustrated noise came from the bathroom. She ducked into the hall, alarmed. Instantly, the door slammed shut.

What the hell?

She dropped the basket and came closer. "Legs?"

"Leave me alone."

That's it? What was that supposed to mean?

Kris folded her arms. "You know, I only get half of what you say when you're trying, Legolas."

"I said," he repeated in very clear, accented English. It shocked her. "Leave me alone."

Kris shifted back. "What? Why. What's the matter?"

A string of quiet curses only answered her, or at least she thought they were. It was impossible to tell in his native tongue.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I seriously going to have to stand here until you come out?"

"Go away."

"Nope."

There was a clatter of something falling to the floor. And then, after a few minutes of quiet, as if in answer, the door reluctantly swung open and Legolas stood there. She almost gasped.

"What happened to you?" She reached for his face, and he instantly snatched her wrist. "But-but Legolas, you're cut! How did that-" And she glanced around him. There was a knife on the floor.

"I need another knife," he growled.

"You need a what?" She whipped her head from the blade and back to his bleeding face.

"A knife, Kristine. A knife." He pointed to the floor, letting her wrist go in the process. His pronunciation was a little off, but for Eru's sake! Kris used her freedom to grab him and drag him into the light. She captured his face before he could protest.

"How the hell did you manage this?" she asked, horrified…before, freezing. As if a lightbulb went off, she stared, mouth parting in surprise. A disbelieving, Cheshire cat smile spread over her face. "My God, you're growing a beard."

Legolas ripped her hands off his face. "To the contrary, I am trying not to let my face become overrun in detestable www facial hair."

Kristy didn't know what he was saying, but she laughed. Hard. "Oh, Legolas! I-I-" she couldn't manage the rest. She staggered back, still laughing. His mortified expression was even better than the first time he saw a string-bikini on TV.

"Stop laughing." He dabbed at the blood on his chin, before examining his face in the mirror. Sunlight poured in through the windows and he squinted, trying to decide if he should scrape more of the stubble away or tend his injury. "It is not funny, I tell you."

"I…" She gasped, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just so good, y-you're face."

"Stop laughing!"

"Alright." She sniffed. "You need a razor. Like-like a guy's razor, I guess."

"Raz-or?" he muttered. Eru, this English was difficult. "What is that?"

Kris sighed, before she picked up an imaginary object, stared in the mirror, and laughingly made like she was shaving.

"Manwe, stop." He rolled his eyes. "I understand." Legolas grabbed her hand and made her quit. "Cease, please. I know what you mean."

Kris chose that moment to look closer and it wiped the smile from her face. The cut really was bleeding. "You're telling me you actually tried shaving with that?" She pointed to the kitchen knife on the floor.

"Well, I have never shaved before!" he protested.

"Never?" she asked. "Not ever?"

Legolas glanced down, touching his sensitive face. "I never had to." he muttered.

Kris stared, still trying not to smile…before reaching up and rubbing his shoulder. "S'okay, no big deal."

Legolas just glowered.

"I have to go to work now. We'll go shopping tonight, okay?"

He ignored how good her affection felt on his back, and he nodded slightly.

. . .

When Kristy came home that night Legolas was staring at himself in the mirror. She set her bags on the kitchen counter. She still hadn't gotten to eat all day.

"You look fine. Seriously, why don't you just leave it?"

Legolas wasn't sure if he heard right. "Leave this monstrosity on my face?"

Kris blinked. God his English was awful. She was surprised he knew 'monstrosity' at all. The woman shuffled down into the chair opposite and pushed her face in front of his. They were inches apart. Kristy narrowed her eyes, inspecting every inch of his chin and he let her.

The hair was fine and even. It looked like a faint, dark shadow across his jawline. It emphasized his chiseled cheekbones and his eyes stood out in bright contrast.

"It's really not too bad," she said finally. "I swear. I mean...I wouldn't jump to shave it off if I were you."

Legolas gave her a withering look. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Well I don't know now." Kristy grinned and folded her arms on the table. "I like it. Maybe I won't."

And then...his eyes flickered to the kitchen knife on the table. She was too slow. Before she could scramble, Legolas slammed his palm across the tabletop and grabbed it.

"Alright!" She gagged on her own laugh. "You win. I give up. We'll go."

He smirked. "That's better."

The smile actually took Kristy off-guard. She slowly drew her hands back. It was quiet and almost...sparkly. But as fast as it was there, it was gone.

Legolas scowled. "Come on."

So much for getting food tonight.

. . .

It was dusky outside. Legolas' hair flagged in the wind and Kristy pulled her hood up as they walked across a grocery-store parking lot. A gust of warm air greeted them inside. Rows and rows of razors lined the wall. Legolas was just in the middle of blinking in shock at the sight, when Kristy swore.

"I forgot my purse at home."

Legolas groaned.

"Well I'm sorry!" she sighed. "Nobody's perfect. I forget stuff."

"Speak for yourself," he said smugly.

"Oh yeah? Look who went and grew the facial hair!"

Legolas was about to protest, but he had to concede. It was indeed shameful. "True."

Kristy chuckled. "Well what do you wanna do about it?"

"I suppose go back for it. Though I dread riding in that car more than necessary."

"Well just stay here then. Pick out the one you want, I'll run home and be back in a few minutes."

The elf only got the gist of that, but he nodded. "Very well."

And that was how Legolas found himself wandering the aisles of the market. One section had rows of TVs lined up on the wall, all showing different channels. He stood in front of them, head thrown back and soaking it in. So much color, so many faces and mouths moving wordlessly across the screens. It was so different from anything he'd ever seen before. But it didn't frighten him.

It...entranced him.

Maybe that was why he didn't see the little girl staring at him from Aisle 2.

"Mom! Mom, look at the man!"

Legolas didn't spare a glance.

"Oh my..." the woman whispered to the man on her arm. "Get back. It's one of them! It's gotta be. Dennis, call somebody."

Legolas felt the tingle of eyes on his back, and he slipped away. He wasn't taking any chances. Barely a minute later, policemen walked through the doors. Legolas ducked behind a rack full of clothes. His heart rate sped up. Things hung off their belts...handcuffs, a steel rod. One was a woman.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Well I don't know, officer. He disappeared. But he certainly was weird looking."

"Ma'am, do you know how many calls we get like this every day? Not every stranger is one of the aliens you're warned about."

Legolas felt along the wall, backing away. His sensitive ears still caught every word.

"Well I won't sleep tonight unless you find out!" she burst out. "He-he had this look in his eyes, like he didn't know where he was at all. And he was gorgeous, like a Greek god."

"A greek god..." the second, black-skinned officer muttered. "Alright, why don't you take a look around? I'll watch the exit."

"Will do."

Legolas whirled around instantly and strode through a bright white aisle lined with cosmetics. He didn't know where he was going. But she was headed straight for him, keys jingling and her eyes glancing down each aisle.

"Stay sharp."

Legolas cursed himself. He shouldn't have stopped to stare at the TVs. He shouldn't have stayed here in the open, not without Kristy. He knew better! Don't draw attention to yourself. Blend in. Disappear.

And disappear Legolas could do.

Quickly, he slipped a baggy coat over his back and zipped it up. He tucked his long hair back, shrugging and sticking his hands into the pockets. He hoped he looked like any one of the other millions of shuffling, incoherent goons in this city. And suddenly, he caught sight of the restroom. Only problem was the cop walking up and down, between him and it. And she was getting closer. Legolas backed up. She was cornering him without even realizing it. He could barely speak any English at all. No, he wouldn't get out of this one. Not if he was caught.

Before he could think, Legolas yanked a hanger off the racks and threw it across the aisle and into a display case. Glass shattered. The officer jumped and bolted toward the noise just as he ducked behind a row of grocery carts and slipped into the restroom. The door wheezed shut behind him.

Second exit. Second ex- ...Well it wasn't exactly an exit, but it would have to do!

There was a tiny window above one of the sinks. He leaped onto the counter, forced the window open, and dropped down onto pavement. It was behind the store in some sort of empty parking lot. Traffic whizzed by.

He was free.

Legolas started walking as fast as he could. He wouldn't run. Running was too dangerous. Everything was so loud and cold and foreign, he couldn't risk being stuck out here. He saw the police car out front and steered away.

. . . . . .

Kris walked into the supermarket swinging her purse.

"Legs?" she glanced around the aisle where she left him. "Come on, where are you? I'm back."

Stupid elf.

She didn't like the cop car outside. Why did she worry about him so much?

So she made a circuit around the store, picking up a razor on the way. A few flustered customers were walking around, muttering and glancing about. Kris frowned. A little Spanish woman was sweeping a pile of broken dishes out of the aisle. Nothing else was out of the ordinary.

Except Legolas was nowhere. Dammit.

She couldn't ask. She couldn't call him. And she couldn't exactly check the lost and found box. He didn't even have a phone! But then she passed the restroom sign, paused a second, and darted for the door.

"Legolas?"

Nothing.

She thought a minute…before cracking the door open and tentatively peeking inside. Empty. It was purely chance that she glanced up. Maybe it was the cold wind. Or maybe the light, but her eyes caught a foggy window up high over the sinks.

It was open.

Kristy groaned. "Oh you've gotta be kidding me."

She started off to the exit. Her strides were twice as long as they should be. People stared and she didn't care. That stupid man...elf, whatever was just too much.

"Damn you Legolas."

. . . .

Kris didn't know how long she rode up and down the city streets. She was lucky enough to find him once, after the storms hit, but she knew it wouldn't happen again. She searched anyway. She didn't know what else to do.

And then, two hours later, her phone buzzed in the back seat. Kris jumped and swerved in surprise, before fumbling behind the seat for her purse. When she finally found it, she almost gasped.

It was her home phone, the landline in the apartment. "Uh...h-hello?"

"Kristine."

Kris blinked.

"Kristine, where are you?"

All she could do is splutter. "Legolas, what the hell?! How did you call me? What happened? Where are you? What-"

"Come home. I am here," he interrupted.

Kris almost hit herself. He could barely understand her at the best of times. "I-but-you-"

"Slow down."

"What the hell? Are you alright?"

"I am fine."

Kristy pulled off the highway and did a U-turn. She barely said goodbye to Legolas before hanging up. Once she'd sped home and parked under her apartment building, Kris pushed the door open and strode into the lobby.

To her further shock, Legolas was on the bottom of the stairs. Waiting.

"Legs...what the hell happened?"

He tilted his head.

"How did you get here? How did you call me?"

To her surprise, Legolas just slid over to make room on the staircase. Kris hesitated an instant, before walking over and sitting down. The carpet was rough and warm.

Legolas fidgeted, a rare thing for him. "I cannot...blend."

Kris sat up. "What? What happened?"

"Nothing. All is fine."

"The police...were they there for you?"

Legolas nodded.

Kristy was silent a long moment. She wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry."

Legolas didn't respond.

"But I can help," she said without thinking.

Legolas didn't respond.

"I can help you blend in," she said a little more hesitantly. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

He inhaled slowly, not quite sure what he wanted. This afternoon shook him a little, it was true. He wouldn't survive here long with days like that. He didn't want to change, but he had to. He had to use every skill he had to disappear, to slip into a crowd and vanish. And more.

"What do you suggest?" he asked quietly.

Kristy glanced over him, before reluctantly fingering a strand of pale hair hanging down his shoulders. "This." She shook her head. "Its gotta go."

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "'Tis a shame among my people to be shorn."

Kris shrugged. "Well I tell you one thing, it makes you stick out like a-a..." she sighed, "I don't know. A pimp at a whorehouse."

Legolas blinked.

"Fish out of water? Bull in a china shop?"

Legolas didn't want to smile. So he didn't.

"Okay fine. A rose 'among-st' thorns then," she said with a shake and little grin. "What do you say? Can I do it?"

"I do not-" Legolas thought a second, before grappling for the right word. "...trust you."

"Come on, please? I took six weeks of styling classes! I can do it, I swear."

Legolas tightened his fists.

Before he knew it, Legolas was strapped to a chair in the middle of the kitchen. Maybe 'strapped' wasn't the best word. But that's how he felt. Every time he tried to get up Kristy grabbed him and dragged him back again.

"You insufferable witch." He growled.

"Don't snap at me in your stupid language."

"I want you to help me understand the ways of this world. Not take my hair!"

She gripped his shoulder with one hand and held up a scissors in the other. Legolas recoiled. "What do you care so much for? What do you mean it's a 'shame'? It's just hair for God's sake!"

Legolas shook her hand off him, before scowling at the far wall. She'd never understand. "Fine."

"No, come on now. I want to know." Kristy cracked open a garbage bag and put it on the floor while Legolas pulled his shirt off.

He sighed, tossing it away. The details were fuzzy, but he remembered enough. "Each braid represents who I am: station, rank in the army. You strip me of honor and identity," Legolas said. He felt like he was being banished, or shamed getting his braids removed, or-or...oh who cared? He could barely remember that life anyway. Much less get back to it.

Kris didn't answer.

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "Do it."

She hesitated just an instant. "I'm sorry, Legs. I have to."

Long strands of silky hair started dropping to the floor. Kris winced the first time. She sawed it all off just above where his collar would be. But it got easier with every snip. In fact, she started to enjoy it. The sun set outside, throwing purple and orange over the glass city outside. Before she realized it though, the scissors slowed in her hands and she was slowly, gently twirling a strand of short hair between her fingers.

It was intoxicatingly smooth.

"Kristine?"

Kris jumped. "Um...your hair is just really um, soft," she whispered.

Legolas glanced up. He could see blurry jeans in the edge of his vision. But he decided to ignore the comment. "I see."

Kris pushed the thought away and hurried up. She razor-ed layers up the back and sides so it was short but shaggy: much too short to braid. She tried not to enjoy running her hands through his hair again and again, brushing it, letting it slip through her fingers. She shouldn't take pleasure in his pain.

But it felt good.

"Looks mighty fine, if I do say so." Kristy tossed the scissors away. She stared at his face and put her hands on her knees. "Mighty fine. Hold on." She scampered off into the bedroom and ran back with a mirror. "Take a look."

Legolas was petrified to.

"Come on!"

"I swear if you-" And Legolas froze. It was...it was worse than he imagined.

"Trust me, it looks fine." She tried snatching the mirror away again, but he held it out of reach.

"It's nearly all gone. You've left me with-"

"Hey you've got a few inches there!"

Legolas shook his head. He looked at the floor. Blonde hair littered the linoleum. He picked up one of his slender braids, before dropping it.

Dammit.

But Legolas had no time to even recover. Half an hour later, Kristy hauled a full length mirror out of her bedroom and set it against the bay window. Than she collapsed on the floor cross-legged.

"Look."

Legolas looked at himself. He looked like a man. He had comfortable, worn jeans and a soft, dark t-shirt on.

"I mean dude! Look at that posture." Kristy threw her hands up in the air. "You make a doorpost jealous. Or-or a two-by-four. I don't even understand how someone stands that straight all the time."

Legolas tilted his head. "Years of practice. That is how."

"Well do yourself a favor and un-learn it. You're already a tall son of a bitch."

"Watch your language."

Kristy sighed. "You know what I mean."

Legolas concentrated a moment...before dropping one shoulder a bit.

"The other one too."

Oh that hurt. Very, very reluctantly Legolas slouched. "Better?"

"Not much." She put her chin in one hand, fingering her lower lip. "But more than that, I've noticed how you look at things. Your eyes are constantly moving. And then you find something and just freeze so...it's like you're a statue. It's weird."

Legolas shook his head. He barely understood half of that. "We-ird?"

Kris shivered. "Yeah, scary. You even freak me out sometimes."

Legolas rested back on his hips, tilting one eyebrow. "Then I will endeavor not to...'freak' you again."

She chuckled. "Something like that. Can you tell me how the heck you got into my apartment though? I haven't gotten you a spare key yet. And how did you know how to use the phone?"

"The fire escape from the floor above yours," he said, as if obvious. "And your...your device is not difficult to use. I have watched. And you should not leave your window open."

Kristy shook her head. She wasn't even going to ask how he found his way home. "You must have a sense of direction like Lassie."

"Lassie?"

"Don't ask." Kristy pointed at his hands. "And that there, look. You never move your hands. Fidget!"

Legolas did.

"Don't be cute. You've gotta be nervous inside there somewhere. Don't think about it. React."

Without warning, Legolas lunged forward and grabbed her around the neck.

"Ack!"

The elf smirked. "I reacted."

"You wanna eat tonight?" she choked.

Legolas laughed and released her.

Kris muttered a curse, still rubbing her neck. "You gotta work on your face too. You have two modes: dead serious, death in your eyes fashion-model, or wide-eyed toddler."

Legolas blinked.

"Don't look at me like that!" she said. "I'm just telling you the truth."

By this time, it was dark outside. He was tired and didn't want to keep talking about this. Legolas sighed heavily and reached to scratch his face, only to mutter a curse. The damn stubble was still there.

Kristy looked at him. "Do you wanna get rid of that?"

Legolas smiled faintly. "More than anything."

"Let's do it." She reached over the tub and held up shaving cream. "Use plenty of this."

"Why do you keep that?" Legolas asked, genuinely confused. Surely she had no beard to shave.

Kris blinked. "Huh?" Shit. She-elves never shaved? Of course they didn't. They were probably all silky smooth and porcelain skin. "Uh, never mind. Just use it."

Before Legolas could utter a word, Kristy ducked out of the bathroom.

. . . .

Legolas came into the kitchen later that night to find Kristy stirring soup. Quiet music played on the stereo. The song was relaxing. Legolas knew better than to listen to the words though. It was likely about lovemaking. And graphic. She was humming to the music a little off-key.

The elf came up behind her and slipped his hands over her shoulders.

"Hey!"

"Give me your hand." He smiled mischievously. Legolas didn't wait for her to obey. He took one of her wrists and brought it to his face. Before she could say a word, he grinned, sliding her fingers up his now perfectly shaved face.

"Mm, smooth."

He leaned into her touch. Kris groaned, dragging her thumb across his cheek appreciatively.

Suddenly, Legolas let her hand drop. She was only playing, but his face turned color and he shifted back. "Aye, how it should be."

Kris cleared her throat. "Um, so my mom called. She asked me to have Thanksgiving dinner with her next weekend."

Legolas slid up onto the counter, waiting for her to continue.

"I told her I have a guest, so it wouldn't really feel right. But she said to bring you along."

"Kristine-"

"Hear me out! It's just a few of my family. They usually get so drunk at these things, they wouldn't know if an elephant walked in the room, much less you. Besides, i-it would be a chance for you to practice your...blending skills."

Legolas looked at her.

"Well...don't you think?"

"Are you finished?" his mouth twitched.

"Um, yeah."

"Good. I was going to say I thought it was perfectly acceptable. I do need practice, and a small, controlled setting is where to do it."

"Remember, you're my friend from over-seas and you're visiting awhile. You only speak some English. And I'll be with you the whole time if you need help keeping your lies straight!" she agreed.

"Please don't say it like that."

"But it's true."

"Yes, but don't say it."