Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 10 - "I leave to fight dragons and face giants."

"I could fake my own death," Elliot said.

Elliot sat with her legs propped up on the table, her arms crossed. Cece stared at her from the other side, a mug clenched in her hands.

"Do we really have that much time?" Cece asked.

Elliot made a face and waved away her previous statement.

"We could say I was killed by a tommy gun in a drive by," she said.

"Because you are now a 1940s mobster," Cece said.

"I got called away to excavate a burial site in Egypt."

"I'm so proud of you becoming archaeologist."

"I'm guiding a group of people across the Sahara," Elliot said.

"Can I see your caravan license?"

"I'm sneaking a group of innocent teenagers, who have been framed for murder, across the Canadian boarder."

"I still think they are guilty."

"I have to defuse a bomb in the Pentagon."

Cece gave her a questioning look.

"Do you really?" she asked. "Technically if it went off, no one could pin it on us."

Elliot let out a sigh, a scowl touching her expression.

"You ever wonder if normal people come up with as many lists as we do?" she asked.

"I don't hang around normal people. I'm afraid their normalcy will be contagious."

"I guess it comes from being writers," Elliot mused. "I'm guessing they come up with more realistic ideas on how to avoid situations."

"What are you saying?" Cece asked, sounding offended. "I thought your ideas were brilliant. The caravan one especially. If you're worried about the license I have one in my wallet. We look enough alike no one should be able to spot the difference."

Elliot's head fell back, as a frustrated groan escaped.

"I don't want to go today," she said. "I don't want to have to face Beck."

"El, you'll be fine. Just ignore him."

"I should ignore my co-author?"

"Yes."

"Right, should work splendidly!"

Elliot pulled her feet off the table and stood.

"Wish me luck," she said. "I leave to fight dragons and face giants."

"I still say walking through The Common is not that dangerous for me. I wonder what I'm doing wrong?"

Elliot took a deep breath in and opened the door to the office. Beck was already sitting at the couch, bent over the coffee table, littered with index cards. He looked up as she entered, his face unreadable. For the length of a heart beat they just stared at each other. Elliot shut the door, breaking the tension. Tossing her purse on the couch, she moved to the kitchenette. The room was silent as she poured herself a cup of coffee and moved to the couch opposite Beck.

"What are you working on?" Elliot asked.

Beck looked up from the index cards.

"I'm not sure if Weston would really fall for Tess," Beck said.

Elliot frowned.

"I thought we went over this already?" she said. "We made it so they would clash at first, then eventually get together. What doesn't work?"