A/N: Short one-shot taking place between when Frozone tells Bob and Helen about DevTech and when they depart

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Things are silent when Bob and Helen, worn out from the day's chaotic events, return back to the sleepy motel room. It had not been a good few hours, to say in the very least. From an arrest, to the news of the Supers Relocation Act being shut down, to the heated argument that had transpired over dinner time, the pair concluded that things seemed to have hit a new low for the Parr family. But, despite how bad things seemed to be, there was still a light at the end of the seemingly dark tunnel for them. A light that came in the form of a man named Winston Deavor, and his team at DevTech. For it was there, sitting along the dim light of the pool area that their friend Frozone approached them and told them about the tech-savvy businessman and his interest to help the Supers. Helen was a little suspicious on the matter, not wishing to run into any more trouble that day than what they already had, but little convincing from Bob had eventually made her agree. Now that they were back inside the small space of their apartment, the two got to work in searching the drawers and still-packed boxes for their old outfits to wear to the meeting. After about five or so minutes, they were found, looking the same way they had almost fifteen years prior.

These Supersuits had been one of the only items that had remained intact after their old house was destroyed by Syndrome's jet. The indestructible material that Edna made them out of had prevented any part of the fiery explosion from completely tarnishing them.

Helen sighed, running her fingers over the worn "EG" emblem embroidered to the front of her suit. It had been a while since she had been Elastigirl, the identity long abandoned since the illegalization of Supers. To her surprise, she'd adjusted to the civilian life with more ease than she initially imagined. It was ironic, really. She recalled the interview, years back when the public had been curious to know more about the views some of the NSA Supers held. Bob had been the one to admit that perhaps settling down and raising a family one day would appeal to him. She on the other hand was eager to continue hero work, not quite ready to abandon the suit or stop helping bring justice to the city. How their views had changed since then.

The suit was slipped on piecemeal, making the process slow but smooth. Helen looked down at herself just as she slid her boots upon her thighs. It looked good, the outfit fitting snugly against her petite figure like it did years ago. Bob, having dressed in his own costume, sat on the edge of the bed. He let out a low whistle at her appearance. "You don't look a day over twenty-three," he remarked, his eyes shamelessly roaming her curves.

She let out a snort, adjusting her mask and turning to observe his own outfit. "Wish I could say the same," she responded, giggling at the look of false-hurt that befell his expression. In all honesty, his suit fit him well - sure, he was no longer as slim or built as he'd been in the Glory Days, but he still held a rather dashing heir.

"Ouch. You sure know how to bruise an ego," he said.

She laughed, cupping his cheek and depositing a quick kiss upon it. "I'm just playing, honey," she soothed. "Besides, no one can bruise an ego the size of Texas."

"Honey!"

She snickered.

"Whaaaat?" he pouted at her.

"I think you're cute when you get defensive like this," He rolled his eyes at that, and got up to stand next to her.

She suddenly caught sight of herself in the mirror, the reflective surface giving her a full-body view of the outfits she and her husband now wore. Her breath caught in her throat, halting any more playful comments.

Helen was overcome with a strong sensation of nostalgia. It was here, gazing at their reflections fifteen years ago, that the fate of Supers had hung in the air. It had been one of the last times the pair had suited up to fight crime, and a mere few days prior to learning about her pregnancy with Violet. The memory still made her eyes sting with unfallen tears. Now, they found themselves in nearly the same situation - the potential fate of Supers hanging in delicate balance, an uncertainty of whether or not they ever had a chance of becoming legalized again. She looked at him through the mirror, a distant look in his eyes as she could tell he likely felt the same way. Bob cleared his throat after what seemed like a while.

"Well, uh, I guess we should get going now," he mumbled.

She nodded silently, no other words needing to be exchanged for the time being.

Helen was about to turn to leave the room when she caught sight of her husband with his black mask over his eyes. She quickly stopped him.

"Not yet, remember?" Helen gestured toward the other room where they could faintly hear the sounds of the monster-movie their unsuspecting eldest children were watching.

"Ah, right," he replied, removing the disguise from his face and setting it back down on the dresser. A look of minor disappointment clouded his features, and she felt sympathy for him. She knew he was eager to return to hero work, and the mask had been one of the items he'd worn with pride. She grabbed it and placed it back in his hands, patting his arm reassuringly.

"Soon Sweetie. Winston will want us in them when he meets us." This seemed to lighten his mood, and he gave a small nod in agreement. They folded the gloves and carefully placed them inside the large pockets of their trenchcoats. The two were able to make their way past the living room, excusing the late-night excursion as a need to simply revel in the "fresh air." Frozone met with them a couple blocks down, and the three trekked one more block to their rendezvous with the DevTech transportation - a sleek black limousine.

"Do you think they were onto us?" Bob asked once inside.

She glanced back at the motel. Dash had been absorbed in the film, so there had been no need to worry about him. Violet on the other hand proved to be more observant, the weary tone of her question to their whereabouts lending to the potential suspicion.

"I think they're fine," she answered, sending a small smile of reassurance his way.

The drive to DevTech was quick, the limousine providing a smooth and efficient ride. A couple more minutes passed, and the car soon slowed to the driveway directly in front of the massive DevTech tower.

The driver turned off the engine, and the trio took the opportunity to slip on each of their gloves.

"Come on, honey," Bob urged, eagerly putting the black mask over his eyes. Helen mirrored the action with her own sparkling red one, the two ready to face the world as Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl once more.

"It's showtime."