Tegan looked up at him, and nodded. Back to he closet, for a pair of worn jeans and a black t-shirt. Very mute, and very drab. Easy enough to ignore. She pulled her hair back, wrapping it in a bun before tying it back, and turning to him. How had she survived without Roe? How in the world had she gone a day, hell, twenty years without his touch, the love he radiated unconditionally? How had she been so frightened of him? She watched him work, 'fixing' the book, gnawing on her bottom lip, not wanting to distract him.