A/N: Don't lie, we've all thought about this.
On one rare quiet evening, Bob is watching television with the volume turned low as Helen buries herself in a book. But before long, he finds himself watching his fiancée.
Her auburn bangs have fallen into her eyes as she concentrates on the book, and she's absentmindedly tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. A worn pink bathrobe masks her body, but Bob has seen what's underneath enough times by now to fill in the blanks. He doesn't have to exercise too much imagination to remember her shapely thighs, or the way her waist curves in almost preternaturally at times, even when she's not stretching...
And he can't help but wonder.
"Bob, what is it?"
He startles, caught. "Um...nothing."
"You were staring at me because of nothing?" Helen's lightly accented voice is playful, inviting. She sets the book down on a side table and tucks a lock of hair behind one ear.
Bob swallows, because even the way the Georgia transplant forms certain vowels has the ability to make him lose control.
They do this a lot, this flirtatious song and dance that inevitably ends up in heated, passionate lovemaking. But Bob actually has something else on his mind tonight; if only he could find the words to adequately express his curiosity without causing offense.
She's still looking at him - this woman who, somehow, he will have the privilege of marrying before the month is out - and he feels the urge to share what's on his mind. He already regrets what he's about to say next, wishing he could speak with more eloquence than the average teenaged boy.
"I was thinking about you, and your body, and, um, the way it looks when you're stretching, and then when you're not, and..."
Helen cuts his mumbling off, an amused glimmer in her eye as she attempts to guess his thought process.
"You're wondering why I don't just 'stretch' myself into having a better body all the time? Make myself taller, or have bigger b—"
"No. NO!" he booms, and she looks a bit shocked.
"It's not that at all. I was, um, curious about that, yeah, but it was more like...you're so perfect now, your body is so beautiful now," he emphasizes, "And I wondered if that's a shape you...chose, or whatever."
Bob squeezes his eyes shut, embarrassed to be revealing an inner thought that couldn't possibly be seen as anything other than objectifying.
He is startled when Helen's lips cross the small room to meet his own, the rest of her quickly following suit. When she pulls away, settling beside him on the couch, she's giving him a wide smirk. But he can see a light blush coloring her cheeks, too.
"That's very flattering, honey, but I can assure you, this," she gestures at her robe with one graceful hand, her engagement ring glimmering in the dim light, "Is all real."
A shiver runs down his spine at this affirmation. Not that he'd really thought she was pulling one over on him or anything, but still, it's nice to know.
"Right," he musters.
"It takes energy to use one's powers," she continues. "You know that. I'd have to exert 24 hours a day. It'd be exhausting."
Of course, he thinks. Idiot.
Helen leans in again, her next words whispered as she snakes both arms around his massive torso. "There are so many things I'd rather be doing with that time."
And then it's he who cuts her off with a kiss.
