He hesitated. It was rare that he got to tell people his story. Usually he was making things up, or worse, not talking to people at all. The few times people did find out about the ARC, they ended up dead. He knew Stephen had always wanted to go public but, the more he did, the more he realized it was a really bad idea.
But did it matter here? The ARC didn't exist. He didn't exist. If he searched Connor Temple, and he'd promised himself and Allana that he never would, all he'd get would be some fictional result. Or that 'We've Found Connor Temple' result that Facebook or Whitepages.com or something would give him. There were no anomalies to consider, no creatures on the loose, nothing.
"Not aliens," he replied, shaking his head. Though he knew those existed. Clark, for one. The Doctors and Romana and Isabel, too. So, yeah. Not that big a deal, that one. But that wasn't his thing. "Time," Connor finally said simply. "I work with time."
He didn't notice the change in her posture because, frankly, he was annoying himself. Barely able to string together a proper sentence and all. He turned back to the meal he'd been preparing, setting out plates and spooning out two decent-sized servings. If she wanted more, she could get it, but he'd learned with Caroline not to assume a woman was going to eat a ton. She'd think he thought she was gargantuan and what good would that do him?