Notes: So here I am with my random sentence generator: "Each person who knows you has a different perception of who you are" Which is a good prompt, as it gets me to write a bit about every character, starting with James because I just love the dynamic between Helen and James. It's so easy and healthy!
Don't get me wrong though, I'm still and always will be a sucker for Teslen, ob-vious-ly.

James

From his seat in his favourite armchair, he has a perfect view of Helen, curled up on the sofa in her silk negligee, her red hair tied up in a low bun, quite caught up in her book.

He feels peaceful, which is always the case with her. Their relationship is not what you would call passionate. They are loving, caring, quite the respectable Mr. and Mrs. Everybody. They click perfectly, so much so that words are almost superfluous, be it in the lab or in the safety of their home.

He has a great memory but he cannot pinpoint the exact moment they became an item, as it seems the transition from friends to lovers has been seamless. It's not even something they have talked about. In fact... Have they ever referred to themselves as a couple? He wonders as Helen's dexterous fingers follow the lines she is reading. James smiles to himself. This diligent tracing of the words, he knows, means her eyes are getting tired.

It seems quite magical, their easy companionship. She's the one he trusts implicitly and he trusts her to feel the same about him.

Of course, she keeps her secrets still. Not many of them, not terrible ones, but he knows there are things she doesn't feel like spilling to his loving ear on the pillow at night when their bodies are warm. He respects that. As he is drinking in the comforting sight of her, fixed on the thin, lonely red curl which has got out of her bun to repeatedly escape from behind Helen's ear, he realizes one thing. He has stopped looking at her with his detective eye. He does not know when but he can guess why: she is aware she can tell him whatever she needs him to hear. Simple at that. She tells him when she's hurt now. Without John between them playing with their nerves and pulling their hearts' strings, she is that free.

Helen stretches an arm to the sky, sighing contently only to flex it and use her forearm as a pillow at the back of her head. She then proceeds to curl her toes and yawn silently.

It is strange to think that one day, maybe tomorrow or maybe in a few decades, their companionship will fade away, morphing back into their initial close friendship without a word, not leaving any scar or resentment. He is okay with it; He's never been the possessive type, marvelling instead at how the woman decides to lie next to him night after night, never tired of him. And how could he be tired of her? She's the most devoted of friends – the funniest too. By far the most interesting, obviously. Her numerous skills as an adventurous lover is nothing short of a glorious bonus.

She must feel his dotting stare get less innocent as she raises her head from her book and smiles when she meets his gaze.

"What?" She asks, visibly quite amused by the situation.

James lets his newspaper fall next to him in the basket. It's no use pretending to be interested in the news.

"I'm wondering if we are a couple." He explains.

He can hear her suppressed laugh only by looking at her sparkling eyes.

"We're definitely an old couple." She asserts, not leaving any room for hesitation.

James tries his best to look offended, which obviously fails. He's never been the best actor of the five, by far.

"We're only ninety! I feel quite young, thank you very much" He protests.

The way her attitude changes from playful to openly flirty does something for him as she closes her book with a thud and gets up, sashaying towards him, never breaking eye contact.

"Care to show me what that century-old body can do?" She whispers.

One thing his body can't do is beat her to the bed. The heavy contraption tied to his chest is somewhat slowing him down.