Pencil, Paper, and Passion.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Good.

"This isn't going to work..." I muttered to myself, for what had to be the trillionth time. I stood in front of the fireplace in the parlor, too nervous to sit. "No possible way..."

"Shut up, it'll be fine." Ben assured me, shuffling over to stand next to me. He was only standing because he couldn't sit and we were just waiting for seven o' clock to roll around.

I stared at him in dismay. "Ben, this plan is the absolute worst. I feel like I'm in some cliche horror movie. Why today of all days? This really couldn't wait until next week?"

"Elizabeth, the fact that it's Halloween plays a very important part in the plan."

"Your plan sucks."

"The plan. The plan. It's not just mine."

"Whatever you say. Do you need help with your helmet?"

"No, I think I've got it."

I watched as he lifted the metal helmet and dropped it over his head. With a lot of loud clanking, he lifted his arm and pushed the visor up and grinned at me. "What do you think?"

"I think you're an idiot."

"Thank you so much." He dropped his hand and the visor slammed down over his face, eliciting a small yelp from him.

I burst out laughing. "You are the worst knight in shining armor I have ever seen."

Ben's voice was muffled through the metal. "Yeah, well, you don't even sound Scottish."

"That just might be because I'm not Scottish, Ben. Just might." I tugged self-consciously at the long, blue-green gown I was wearing. It was gorgeous, I had to admit, what with the sleeves, puffed at the elbows, tapering down to my wrists and the intricately woven threads of gold at the edges. A brown leather belt and flat boots of the same material and color completed the costume. "I look ridiculous."

"You look just like Merida, actually. It's kind of weird."

"It took me an hour and a half to curl my hair like this." My hair had actually been the reason why I settled on Merida, from Brave, for a costume. It was already red and tended to curl just as wildly, so I wouldn't need to shove all my hair under a wig.

"Your hair was already curly." Ben pushed his visor up again, so he could stare at me critically. "Why would you spend all that time, when it's already curly?"

I sighed. "It wasn't curly enough."

He just rolled his eyes and let the visor snap back into place. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

"Can you even see out of that thing?" I asked him, hoping the answer would be no, that way I could get the satisfaction of watching him run into things all night.

"Yes, I can. Just not very well. I'll manage though."

I let out a hum of disappointment and turned away from him. I began pacing back in forth in front of the parlor window, getting nervous again. I wasn't nervous about the impromptu Halloween party I would be throwing in, I glanced at the clock, thirty minutes. No, I was nervous at the reason for it. It was apparently the deciding factor in this 'plan' of Ben's, which was ridiculously intricate.

It had required Ben's brother to "call off" his investigation and for Noah to stop digging into everything. I had basically been forced into hiding, not allowed to leave the house for anything but school and even there Noah practically followed me into the bathrooms. Ben and I hadn't said one word to each other face to face in the eleven days since he'd unveiled his master plan. We talked on the phone every night though, probably staying up too late and falling asleep without either of us hanging up.