Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 24 - "You're on NASA's emailing list?"

Elliot sat on the armrest of the couch, tapping her foot in an incessant beat.
The doorknob turned and Elliot hopped up and walked over to Beck.

"Good you're here," she said. "We're leaving."

Beck nodded at this announcement and pulled the door open for her.

"Any reason," he asked, "or has the emptiness of the office scared you again?"

Elliot scoffed as Beck closed the door and followed her down the staircase.

"Please," she said, "I once tried to talk to Tristan at seven o'clock in the morning. Nothing scares me, except trying to talk to Tristan at seven o'clock in the morning."

"Okay. Do you have a destination in mind or have you decided to drop the book and this is your subtle way of telling me I'm fired?"

Elliot turned on him and cocked her head.

"Do you think I would be subtle about telling you, you were fired?"

"You make a good point."

"So you have your answer."

She turned away and pushed through the front doors. The day felt as if spring had been over booked and dropped one of its pleasant days in the middle of summer. The sun's heat was warm, but not overbearing. The light had a soft whiteness to its color. The birds chirped like they were auditioning for the stage. Elliot directed Beck across the street and into the Common.

"Coffee?" Beck asked.

Elliot nodded.

"I broke the machine in the office," she said.

"For fun?"

"I wondered what would happen if I crumbled up cereal and put it with the coffee grounds," she said. "Apparently, the coffee maker took offense at being so harshly used and handed in it's resignation."

Beck gave a single nod and slid his hands in his pockets, looking off to the side.

"Can you blame it?" he said, "Your treatment was below its status."

"I thought it would liven up its life a little," she said. "Obviously not, because now I'm out a coffee maker and the espresso machine was giving me a warning glare."

Beck chuckled and shook his head.
"I've just realized we are talking about inanimate objects," he said.

Elliot looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Interesting," she said. "I thought you were smart but the more you talk it seems I was mistaken."

"You're personifying a coffee maker and I'm the dumb one here?" he said, doubtfully.

"It took you two minutes to realize we were talking about a coffee maker. Who is the slow one in the situation? My answer, is you."

A grin spread across Beck's face and he chuckled.

"I am seceding from this conversation," he said.

Elliot shrugged. They walked in silence, letting the music of the city twist around them. They were halfway across the Common when Tristan appeared. They stopped and Elliot eyed him with an odd, scrutinizing look.

"Why do you look like someone ate your toast?" she asked.

Tristan's frown deepened.

"If that is the reason you are mad," she added, "I blame Cece. I left before you emerged from your den." 

Tristan shook his head and rubbed his forehead as if trying to rid himself of annoying thoughts.

"No," he said, "I have to go work with the most sodding group of dancers I have ever had. And that's including St. Louis."