TIME CHANGES, WE STAY THE SAME [SJ one-shot]

// time changes, we stay the same

6 hours, 35 minutes

ELLE MONROE is a lot of things, undoubtedly, but not patient. If patience were a person, she would have probably kicked it into space right now to whizz around the planets. There it would stay, hung in the indigo sky among the stars of the other words she's flittered there to rest in a galaxy called never use.

But right now, her hands are scraping down the wooden desk in front of her as she tries -fails- to write an article about the newest Maple Leaf players, whilst averting her gaze from the clock.

Since becoming a sports journalist, Elle has hardly had a moment to breathe, but now, now she is bored, a strange feeling that scares her far more than it should do.

It annoys her, because she feels useless [and not in that sentimental crappy way] but in the way that Elle Monroe always has a plan, but this morning she watched a whole season of Friends in one sitting. There is only one person who can calm her when she is annoyed, and at present, there is a severe lack of him.

Scott has left a sickening silence in the flat, and the heavy Toronto rain is casting a grey hue over the walls inside. Light droplets speckle in the light, and the raindrops dance in the air, jeering at Elle as she hides under the reassuring thought of Scott's face smiling as she hugs him.

He is away on a three month tour, skating across America and Europe scoring goal after goal. Elle would have loved to have gone, really, but this was the first time she had really felt settled in her life, and she didn't want to throw it away.

After a childhood of travelling from city to city, club to club as her dad transformed simple village teams into international competitors, she was tired of moving.

The flat, a place which smells like maple syrup and pine needles and a coffee shop and more importantly home is now her favourite place apart from the ice rink.

Elle recalls yesterday, watching the Maple Leaf's last game away, curled up on the sofa as she shouted at the screen [mostly at Scott]. It reminded her of of old times when her sofa was more musty and tattered looking, and the warm blanket was her dad's arm draped over her shoulder. They would always stay up late to watch the games, and even though she failed her Math tests the next morning, it was always worth it.

Elle sighs and shuts the TV off, although Scott's smile as he skated a winning lap lingers in her mind for a little too long.

3 hours , 5 minutes

THE SMELL of burning cookies is wafting through the flat, and as Elle sprints to rescue them, she wonders what fucked up part of her mind thought that this was a good idea.

They are white chocolate chip [Scott's favourite] and she knows that if he were here, he would make some sarcastic comment about how they looked beautifully charcoaled. But instead, Elle has the comfort of her smoke alarm beeping.

47 minutes, 50 seconds

CONNOR is blasting Rihanna so loud that the sides of his rickety Ford fiesta are shaking, and Elle and Kelly have their hands plastered to their ears. Passers by are staring at Connor, who is currently 'dancing' in the front seat, hands pressed against the steering wall, bobbing his head to the beat.

"CONNOR. Turn that off or I will physically ensure that you hit that high note!" Kelly hisses, rolling her eyes.

Elle isn't quite sure why she decided to endure a half hour drive to the airport with a guy who is permanently hyper, but she is seriously regretting it now. Her head is pounding.