She chuckled at the soft alien comment. she'd recently called it magic. It was impossible to say what all this rubbish was, really. The whole thing was beyond their comprehension, though as they walked down the street, coffee shop finally coming into view, she glanced at him and shook her head.

"No, not a gymnast, trust me. I think, if I understand my visions, I'm supposed to believe I'm some kind of secret agent, or rubbish like that," she said. "It's a little far fetched. I'm just a florist."