"What are you reading?" Dom held the newspaper up higher, but didn't speak. "Anything good?"

A pause. "Not really."

"Can I see The Comics?"

Dom leaned over the side of his paper, peeking out from behind it at Elijah. He tapped his finger on a pile of papers beside him; Elijah nodded and retrieved the funny pages, but didn't read them.

"Are you speaking in as little words as possible just to annoy me?" Dom didn't reply. "Because it's working."

"I just don't feel like talking."

"Why?" Elijah set the paper down and crossed his legs, preparing for a nice conversation.

Dom set his paper down and looked across the room with a stoic expression on his face. "Elijah, can we please not do this now?"

"Now's as good a time as any, Dominic."

"Elijah, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Psychoanalyze me."

"I'm not," Elijah replied, frowning. "I just want to talk."

"Well, I don't."

Elijah stood up, looking livid. "Listen, this has been going on for far too long. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Don't raise your voice at me." A much calmer voice than the other's.

"I'm sorry, but you won't listen unless I yell."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it damn well is!" Elijah huffed out a breath, counted to three and began again. "Is this because we're married?"

Snort. "No."

"What is it, then?"

"It's just...weird." Dom gesticulated vaguely, his eyes on anything but Elijah.

"Us?"

"Yeah. What the hell are we doing?"

"Living together, I thought."

"Yeah, but why? We're not even gay."

"So? We got married. Married people live together."

"Sure, but I thought we'd be getting a divorce or an annulment within twenty-four hours. We've been married for three weeks, Elijah. It's just...weird."

Elijah sat back down. "You said that already."

"I know." Dom ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "This is so fucked up, man."

A sigh. "I know."

"So, what are we gonna do about it?"

"Get divorced, I imagine."

Dom let his eyes drift over to Elijah's. "Thank you."

Elijah shrugged slowly. "It's alright. I don't mind going back to being Elijah Wood. Elijah Monaghan doesn't have the right ring to it."

Dom chuckled. "You're right." There were a few moments of silence before Dom voiced the question he'd been wondering for three weeks. "Lij? Did you really want to be married to me?"

A shrug. "Sort of. I mean, I didn't know when the hell I'd ever be married to a girl, so I thought it'd be fun to try it out."

"What was the ending result?"

"I never want to be married. Ever."

Dom grinned. "Any girl'd have you, you know that."

"I don't know about that," Elijah laughed. "But thanks."

"No problem. What are husbands for?"

"Not much good, as far as I can see." Dom threw a pillow playfully at him; Elijah caught it. "I never wanted to be the wife."

"I know, but I'd already gotten dibs on husband."

Elijah shook his head. "Who'd want to be married to you, anyway? You hog the covers."

Dom's eyes widened. "Shut up."

"You also drink out of the milk carton, and you never refill an ice tray."

"Elijah---"

"Also, you never put the seat down, and you never put your wet towels away. You never do any laundry, you just buy new clothes. And you never pay the bills, you make me do it!"

Dom scowled. "Do I have any good qualities?"

Elijah thought for a moment. "You make me laugh."

A smile. "That's all?"

"Pretty much, yes."

Dom threw another pillow. "You dork."

"Hey, don't call your wife names."

An eyebrow rose silently. "Mrs. Monaghan, you'd better get used to it."

"AH!" Elijah covered his ears, a look of joy and disgust on his face. "Don't call me that!" He jumped to his feet suddenly. "Come, Dom, let's go and get a divorce! I can't be known as Mrs. Monaghan a moment longer!"