"Yup." Scott sits on top of the back seat of the convertible, hands resting on the red heated metal.

"We're at a farm."

"Yup."

Reed glances back at Scott and then shrugs, nodding. "We're at a farm."

"Yup."

They sit in silence for several moments, the sweet smell of hay and the tang of manure in the air, the distant sound of animals carrying on the slight breeze. Finally Reed tilts his head, watching the windmill spin slowly. "Why are we at a farm?"

"Just because."

Reed nods again and gets into the back seat, sitting on top of it and mimicking Scott's posture. The heat is slightly problematic, kicking his power into gear, but it's low enough that his hands just feel a little bit like Silly Putty and not like chocolate in a car in Arizona. "Nice."

Scott nods and tilts his head back to the setting sun, letting red wash over the world like it does every moment of his vision. The one time in the day when the world sees what he does, when he's normal. "Yup."