"Huzzah!" Elliot yelled as she jumped up from the couch, her fists raised above her in triumphant.

Beck looked at her, from where he sat on the opposite couch, with a slightly amused grin. She pointed to him.

"Quick lackey," she said. "Fetch me my horse! I shall ride to the nearest tavern and have my fill of their finest ale."

Beck raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

Elliot shrugged.

"Huzzah just slipped out and I fell right into the trap of speaking old English."

"An easy thing to fall prey to."

"So you understand."

Beck dropped his gaze but paused when a thought struck him. He looked back up at Elliot.

"Wait," he said. "Did you just call me 'lackey'?"

Elliot made a face.

"Would you have preferred stable boy?" she asked. "I was debating between the two. But stable boy seemed to instantly drop us into a bodice ripper novel. I wasn't sure we could come back from that."

"I prefer neither."

"Fine," she said, "slave it is then. I thought the other two were less demeaning."

Beck gave her a flat look. It had no affect on Elliot as her mood buoyed once more, as the reason for her excitement returned in full force.

"Beck!" she said. "How are you not excited?!"

She cocked her head and gave him a thoughtful look.

"Is it because your face forgot how? I understand that happens to people."

She waved the thought away and clapped her hands.

"I'm so excited I could shout it from the roof tops." She held up a finger. "Which is exactly what I will do!"

She danced around the coffee table and raced to the windows. She slid one open, welcoming in a rush of summer heat and the smell of car fumes and the sea.

"I can start writing my book!" she yelled.

Car horns were the only response to the outburst. Elliot pointed at nothing in particular and scowled.

"Don't give me that look Winston," she said.

She slid the window closed, successfully muffling the noise of traffic. Still glowing with elation, she moved back to the couch. Beck had not stirred and his expression was placid. Elliot stepped over to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Beck Daniels!" she said. "How are you not excited that we can finally write this dang book?!"

Laughter entered Beck's blue eyes as he looked at her and the edge of his mouth curled upward.

"Seriously!" she said. "I'm so happy I could kiss you!"

Beck raised one teasing eyebrow, the beginning of his grin turning into a smirk. Elliot laughed and straightened, releasing his shoulders.

"Don't give me that mocking look," she said.

She flopped back onto the couch beside him.

"I happen to be an excellent kisser," she said. "Or so Pillow tells me."

"I'm sure your pillow has a lot of experience in that department and truly knows the difference between a poor and excellent kisser."

Elliot slapped his arm.

"Not my pillow. A guy named Pillow," she said. "He is a heartbreaker among the ladies."

"You never would have thought it of a guy named Pillow."

"You wouldn't, but its true."

Elliot turned her head, looking at Beck. He studied her and she smiled.

"Now you're wondering if I'm making it up or just crazy," she said.

Beck's lips twitched.

"I told you not to go down that road," she said. "All that waits for you is a self hugging jacket and a male roommate who turns out to be a woman on alternating Wednesdays."

Beck chuckled and shook his head. Elliot let out a happy sigh and looked at the far wall.

"You'd think," she said, "with how long we have spent together we would have been writing but no! I guess it didn't help that we changed the plot half way through. Then we had to map out the stupid thing. But now it is mapped out! We can write! Finally!"

She looked at Beck.

"It's a good thing too," she said. "I'm getting used to your face."

"Why's that bad?"

"Because it puts us dangerously close to friendship."

"Yes, perish the thought."

Elliot pointed at him.

"You mock," she said, "but terrible things come of being my friend."

"Clearly. Insanity being at the top of the list."

"You get it!"

Elliot bounced up.

"Now! In celebration I shall take you to lunch. Come," she said.

She grabbed his hand and tugged at him. Beck smiled at her efforts and didn't budge.

"You have a funny way of going about not making this a friendship," he said.

Elliot pulled harder.

"Come on, Beck. We are going to lunch and that's final."

"I have no say in the matter, then? Even if the result of this lunch is the loss of my sanity?"

"First, have you ever had a say in anything? Second, you decided to work with me, that speaks volumes of where you sanity already lies. I would say you are closer to the dark side than you know."

"So there's no fighting this, correct?"

"None whatsoever."

Beck stood suddenly, sending Elliot falling onto the floor as the result. He smiled down at her.

"That was oddly satisfying," he said.

Laughing at her frown, he held out his hand and helped her up.

"See, closer to the dark side, pal," she said.

They both grabbed their bags and left the office. Outside the building, Elliot turned to look at Beck.

"I think you're right," she said. "It kind of does feel like we are always leaving the office. Maybe because it's the only thing we do instead of sit."

"Thats very possible," he said.

She shrugged and the matter was erased from her mind.

"Where do we want to eat?" she asked.

Beck nodded toward the sidewalk.

"Let's walk and find out," he said.

Elliot smiled and started walking, a slight bounce to her step. Beck's gaze flickered to her, the hint of a smile creeping onto his lips. The sun, annoyed with its lot in life, had taken to glaring down at the city, and sending warm breezes along as it huffed in frustration. Elliot ignored the sun's persistent gaze, knowing attitudes came and went and so would the sun's.

They were just passing an elegant restaurant, with umbrella covered tables outside, when the door opened. Tristan stepped out, followed by a slender, dark haired woman. Instantly, Elliot grabbed Beck's hand and dragged him away from Tristan's line of sight. She pulled him down, hiding them under the cover of a table, crouching close to the pavement. Baffled, Beck took back possession of his hand and looked at her.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

She put a finger to her lips and shushed him. He blocked her shushing with a flat look. In response, she pointed to where Tristan stood a few feet away, talking with the woman. He was dressed in slacks and a button down shirt, and wore a smile that gave his ensemble a different meaning than one of professionalism.

"Tristan is talking to a woman," Beck said. "I fail to see the connection of that and our current position."

Elliot shushed him again.

"Tristan is with a woman, who is beautiful and he's smiling," she whispered.

"Two things I again fail to see the relevance of." 

"Beck, my brother does not smile when he is out in the world. He finds people leave him alone if his face remains on the verge of a frown. The fact that he is smiling at a beautiful woman means this is a date. A date, my dear brother has failed to mention to either Cece or me. Now do you see the significance of the situation?"

"Yes. I still fail to understand why this means I must crouch on the ground."

"Gosh! Where is your sense of adventure?"

"In my other satchel."

"I didn't know you had two. That's interesting."

"Elliot," he growled.

She glanced at Tristan again, checking that he hadn't become aware of them. Tristan remained oblivious, the smile never leaving his face. Elliot looked back at Beck.

"Elliot, why don't we just go talk to him or leave and ignore the fact that we saw him?"

"Because that's not what spies do," she said. "And since we are right now spying, it would make us poor spies indeed."

She smiled and poked Beck's arm.

"Didn't you ever want to be a spy?" she asked.

"No."

"What a sad life you have led."

He shook his head.

"Fine," he said. "Once, for a little bit, when I was ten and watched James Bond movies."

"There is hope for you yet," Elliot said. "Today we are giving that ten year old a chance to live out his dream."

"Did it ever cross your mind to confront him?"

"And have him lie or give me the brush off? Did those movies teach you nothing?"

"Apparently not as much as they did you."

Ignoring the comment, Elliot looked back to Tristan. He nodded to the woman and they parted ways. The woman took the path that went by Elliot's and Beck's hiding spot. When she had passed, Elliot let out a sigh of relief and jumped up. She looked between the two retreating figures, as Beck stood.

"Do we follow her, and find out who she is?" she asked. "Or follow him and see what other things he has been withholding?"

"If we do either of those," Beck said, "the chances I hold on to my sanity becomes none existent."

Elliot turned on him.

"There it is again with the whole you losing sanity thing," she said. She placed her hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes. "My dear Beck in the words of the legendary feminist and  motivational speaker, Elsa, 'Let. It. Go'."

"You know I'm going to have that stuck-"

"Yeah, sing It's A Small World and it comes right out."

Elliot dropped her hands and looked back to the sidewalk.

"Damn! We've lost them. Marlow this is all on you," she said.

"I can't decide-"

"Not many people can. Indecision is a sad condition to live with. Ice cream shops are the toughest on them."

"If you are more odd today than usual or I'm just noticing it?"

"With your eye for criticism I'm going to say I'm just more odd today than usual. I am excited and that usually heightens my oddities. Come, we might as well eat here since we've been standing by this table for the last twenty minutes."

They rounded the table and entered the restaurant. Dim lighting gave the place a subdued feeling. Occupied round tables, covered in silk tablecloths and encircled by dark wooden chairs, filled the place. The hostess looked up as they moved forward.

"Hello," she said. "Table for two?"

Elliot looked at Beck.

"It's up to you," she said, "I understand if you want to avoid being seen in public with me."

"I just hid behind a table near a busy street. I'm not sure we could have been more public," he said.

Elliot turned back to the hostess.

"A table for two it is then."

Grabbing two menus, the woman gave them a wide, slightly puzzled smile and led them to a table. Elliot thanked the woman and took a seat opposite Beck. After accepting their drink orders, the woman left. Elliot looked over her menu at Beck.

"You seriously didn't spend the majority of your youth wanting to be a spy?" she asked. "Cause Cece still wants to be a spy, even though the CIA has told her no. They've also told her to stop tailing foreign delegates and bugging their hotel rooms."

"How does she get in?"

"Maid service."

"Ah."

Elliot closed her menu and laid it on the table, looking at Beck intently.

"What did you want to be when you were little?" she asked. "A pirate? You would look great with an eye patch. A thief? You have the silence for the job. A firefighter? Who hasn't had the classic dream of driving the big red truck and racing into deadly infernos? Dante, my friend in elementary school, had that dream and lived it out too. What about a Wall Street banker? I had a few months of wanting to be that when I was six." She gave a wry chuckle. "Was I ever that young?"

Beck just looked at her and laughed.

"I know, the silly ideas of kids," she said. "Tell me what you wanted to be?"

Beck set down his menu and crossed his arms.

"Fine," he said. "I'll tell you. Since I was ten I knew I wanted to be a writer."

"Seriously?"

Beck nodded.

"I wrote a short story for school and knew from that point on I wanted to be a writer. Of course childhood dreams and reality don't mix."

Elliot stared at him for a long moment.

"You really wanted to be a writer for that long?" she asked.

Beck shrugged.

"It was just the thing that clicked for me. But I grew up and everyone around me told me writing was not a stable career choice. I listened to them."

"You still are."

Beck's lips curved into a self mocking smile.

"I guess so," he said.

"You don't have to."

Beck didn't reply, his gaze holding Elliot's as her words bubbled around in his head. A waiter appeared before their table and set two glasses down, breaking the moment.

"Are you ready to order?" he asked.

With their orders taken, he left them once more. Beck, sensing Elliot's choice in conversation topic, spoke first.

"How are Cece and Milo doing?" he asked.

Elliot tossed her head back in exasperation.

"Ugh, so good she can't write and he has returned to being the worst barista ever." She looked at Beck. "It's nauseating how cute they are. I was not prepared for this side of their relationship."

Beck laughed.

"What did you expect? They would go on just acting like two friends instead of a couple?"

"Yeah. It's Cece. She doesn't do relationship, so I expected it to start out slower. I hope they get past this cute phase quickly or I'll drop twenty pounds and be forced to go to a bulimic convention?"

"Do they have those?"

"They have a convention for everything."

"How like humans that is."

"Yes, its all very conventional." Elliot shrugged. "Anyways, they will hopefully get over it. Or they both will lose their jobs."

"Do you find it hard to watch other people be happy?"

Elliot pointed at him and shook her head.

"Nope, we are not psychoanalyzing me. I'm too happy to have a deep, hard look at my inner soul and realize I have been pushing away love and find it easier to deal with it when its in a book."

Beck pursed his lips, trying to hold in a grin. Elliot placed her head on the table.

"I hate you sometimes," she muttered.

"Only sometimes? My position has been improving. That's good to know."

Scowling, she raised her head and stared at him.

Beck shrugged. "You said it. Not me."

"Well, we are not talking about it."

"That's fine."

The waiter appeared with their food and set it before them. He stepped back and looked at them.

"Will you be needing anything else?" he asked.

They responded in the negative. Elliot poked her pasta, then looked at Beck, with a forced nonchalant look.

"So..."

Beck met her gaze and shook his head, his face going serious.

"We are not going back to the conversation. It's dropped," he said.

Elliot shrugged.

"Fine. It's dropped."

They ate in silence for a long moment.

"Speaking randomly and not at all about anything we were talking about only a few minutes ago," Elliot said. "If I can make it as a writer with the quality of writing I produce. You can too. Just something to think about."

Beck stared at her. She shrugged and went back to eating, letting her words settle on the table before them.

**********************************************************************

Flippin eggs! (It's more amusing if you know that when I said this out loud the first time I was going for flippin A instead.)

Alright! Today is a very special day for the mere fact that it is the present. Since my brain has decided to not work and my sleep was truly awful last night I will keep this brief. (Yes I hear you letting out sighs of relief and I don't appreciate it. Or the sarcastic comments you muttered)

Today I want to know your top three girl names and boy names! Mine are terrible because the girls are, Avery, Audrey and Ari. (Yes, all A's. I don't know why.) And the boys are Dominic, Dimitri, and Donovan. (Yes! I am very aware I have a problem with using the same letter.) I have no idea what I will do if I ever have kids. Be very confused all the time I guess.

Tote, Vomit, Fellow! (Yeah...umm....I don't know...)

ALSO! A huge thank you to ALilianI  for making me these awesome covers! I'm so honored she would take the time to do it!!