<span style="color: #00BF00">"Lets just go inside...It's too bright out here and it feels too open."</span>He followed her back towards their new room. As soon as he stepped over the threshold his eyes were scanning for threats, hand naturally going to his blaster. He moved though the small apartment looking for anything that might have changed in the short amount of time they had been gone. Nothing. The place was just as it had been.<br/><br/>Satisfied that everything was as it had been he headed back towards the main room. Alan looked at where Elisa sat, appearing fascinated with the wall. He headed back to his terminal the screen once again appearing before his eyes. The disdain that flashed though him was momentary before grim acceptance replaced it. While it was tempting to pretend he was done reading the drivel he couldnâ€™t risk missing something vital. The one person he didnâ€™t check would be the one who would attempt to kill her. His fingers twitched swiping to a new profile, committing name and face to memory he started to read the file.<br/><br/>Almost as if his body was bored by it as his mind was, his stomach growled loudly enough to demand his attention. He blinked and cast his gaze down at the part of him that was vehemently demanding food. In the silence he wondered if Elisa could hear it. Thinking that maybe it would do them both some good to get food inside them, he stood again and looked at her. â€œHey, you hungry?â€ He asked. He hadnâ€™t seen her eat since he had arrived there and all that he had eaten was the toast heâ€™d stolen from his brother that morning. Had it really only been a few hours ago? Felt like days.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">His stomach growling only fueled one of her own, the attention it drew from her causing her body to realize just how hungry it was. She didn't generally eat breakfast, so she hadn't eaten yet that day, and the excitement was beginning to catch up to her. But, the prospect of eating didn't seem appealing to her at that moment, her mind too weighed down and her body far from settled from the earlier happening to even contemplate eating food. "...No, thank you," she replied to that softly.<br/></span><br/>He frowned at her from where he stood. Concern flitting though his eyes. "Let me order you something anyway? Usually the smell of food will make one crave it even if you don't want it now."<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">She shrugged at that, not seeing how it'd make her want it more when the thought made her stomach churn. "Alright."</span><br/><br/>He nodded satisfied with that answer, and he started towards the intercom near the door, when he realized he had absolutely no idea what she liked. He turned back towards her eyebrow raised. "What's your favorite food?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">"My favorite food?" she asked, only to stop and look at him in a thoughtful, tired manner. "Are you sure you can trust the food ordered?"</span><br/><br/>"Well, usually I'd watch them make it and breathe down their necks to ensure no future thoughts of poisoning, but today I have two other methods to serve the purpose." He gestured to his terminal. "I've got a program that analyzes the chemical compound of any substance I give it. Anything toxic in it will be detected. Plus now I'm in your network and can watch them make it from here."<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">Her eyes widened a bit, mildly surprised, and pleasantly so, she felt another shrug loose, only to tell herself it wasn't a ladylike gesture. "I don't really have a favorite. Whatever you order me will be fine," she finally responded after a pause.</span><br/><br/>Alan shrugged as he turned towards the intercom again. "It's like the people who say they don't want anything when they go out to eat. Then they see other peoples food and want it." His finger jabbed the button for the kitchen on the intercom.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">Elisa resisted the urge to shrug, proud of herself for not succumbing this time around, before perching on the edge of the couch, not wanting to pace anymore while she waited, trusting his judgment.</span><br/><br/>"Mac 'n' cheese. Make two boxes." His voice firmed over the intercom, though he wasn't sure if it was possible to sound badass while ordering Mac 'n' Cheese, he was going to try. Conformation rang back to him and he moved back towards the couch. His fingers twitched again flitting though the terminal until the screen showed the kitchen from multiple angles. He leaned back satisfied that he was watching his food being made. He canted the screen slightly so she could see if she so desired. â€œAnd thereâ€™s our food.â€ He said waving his hand towards the screen.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">Glancing over at him, she started subconsciously warring with herself for being nosy and having the urge to pry. But, at the mention of food, she couldn't help it, her eyes drawn toward the screen; Somewhere in the back of her mind, she berated herself for looking, but it quieted. "...Looks alright..." she remarked, though her eyes had slipped from the people to the area surrounding them, the realization she'd not seen the kitchen dawning on her.</span><br/><br/>Alan nodded still watching the screen. Though his form was loose he was watching intently. There didn't seem to be any sign of discord among the cooks. They seemed happy. Happy cooks made poisoning much less likely. "They've got no intention of messing with the food."<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">â€œWell, that's good then...Does that mean they're off the list?" she asked, referring to all those he had to check out for malicious intent.</span><br/><br/>They've made their way to the bottom. I'm not too worried about scanning them not that I've seen how they act."<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">A small, almost bitter smile pulled at her lips before letting her eyes drift closed as she relaxed into the cushions. "Small miracles...At least it's a few less people. Glad to know I can eat without feeling like I'll die shortly after."<br/></span><br/>He allowed his eyes to slide from the screen and glance over at her. "Usually the cooks aren't up to anything funny, nor is the staff. Trust your gut, if you think something's fishy stay away from it.â€<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">"I can't trust my gut," she replied softly, not bothering to open her eyes as her hands clasped and unclasped repeatedly in a nervous gesture.</span><br/><br/>He frowned again. "Why not?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF00">"Because I've trusted people my entire life...and people have gotten close enough to get...in my bedroom..." Her words dropped off, biting hard into her lip while she struggled to find the words. "If they can get at me there...there has to be inside help. I've trusted these people blindly for so long...I don't trust my judgment of anyone anymore."</span><br/><br/>Alan opened his mouth to protest her statement, but the raps at the door stopped him. He rose quickly from the couch putting his link on the table as he approached the door. His hand was on his blaster, trigger finger curled and ready to fire if there was so much as a twitch he didnâ€™t like. He opened the door slightly looking over the maid checking with his eyes for concealed weapons.  Not finding anything he didnâ€™t like his hand released the blaster and stretched out for the food he could smell. She handed it to him.<br/><br/>â€œThanks. Do give our appreciation to the cook.â€ He said smiling at her as he shut the door; before he moved away he flicked the locks into place, and then moved back to the couch dropping back down. His feet rested on the coffee table next to his link. There were two bowls on the tray he set one on the table in front of her in case she wanted it.  He started eating calmly, but at the same time rushed, he knew that when one got the chance to eat, you ate and you ate fast.