Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 47 - "We always stay out of trouble."

Cece rapped her knuckles for the second time against the door and growled. Elliot leaned on the door frame, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket, the late night sitting on her shoulders. The hallway was silent as was the room on the other side of the door.

"How are they still asleep?" Elliot asked.

"Because they're stupid, that's why," Cece said.

"You understand that answer makes no sense."

"You make no sense."

"Your face makes no sense."

"It's too early," Cece said.

"This whole day is too early."

"We've gone to a bad place."

"Have we ever been to a good one?"

"Two years ago, on a Wednesday."

"What about it?" Elliot asked.

"That's when we went to a good place."

"I don't remember it."

"Pity, it was a good place."

"I'll take your word for it."

Cece raised her hand to knock again but paused when she spotted Marilyn coming down the hallway pushing a trolley laden with food.

"Hello, darlings!" she said.

"Where'd the food come from?" Elliot asked.

"I stole it from a hotel attendant, I'm sure it won't be missed. Let's go in."

"We would but the boys seem to have gone deaf in the night," Cece said.

Marilyn waved away Cece's annoyance. "Unlikely, I called half an hour ago to warn them of our arrival and they seemed to have heard me just fine." With that said, she knocked brightly on the door. And Elliot had to admit it was a bright knock. Maybe that's why they'd been ignored, their knock had been grumpy.

Milo opened the door, his hair messy but dressed and awake enough to appreciate the appearance of food and coffee.

"I love you!" he said.

Cece groaned. "It's too early for your affection."

"I was talking to Marilyn," Milo said, and helped guide the trolley cart into the room.

"Is Tristan awake?" Marilyn asked.

"He woke up but once he saw that it was still morning he cursed us and fell back asleep."

"That doesn't sound like him at all!" Elliot said, closing the door behind her.

Suitcases, clothes and shoes were tossed about the room. Tristan lay asleep, his scowl gone for the moment. Elliot figured it would make a comeback once Marilyn woke him up. Beck sat on the couch dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, rubbing his eyes, looking like a morning nap might be a nice idea. As Elliot brought him a cup of coffee, Marilyn flung the curtains open. The day was clear, except for a few wispy clouds and a sun that was happy to join in with the wedding.

Tristan rolled over and winced as pure sunlight smacked him in the face. He let out a string of curses that would have won him a standing ovation at the pirate's poetry night.

"I suddenly have the feeling that this hotel is going to have a new history and more ghosts than it knows what to do with," Elliot said.

"Will you shut up," Tristan said.

He sat up and glared at the room at large, still undecided who was the first on his hit list. Cece smiled brightly.

"Morning, Tristan," she said. "How did you sleep?"