"Elliot."

Elliot started and jerked her head up. Beck was staring at her from the other couch, bent over his knees, hands clasped and his eyebrows raised in question. Elliot opened her mouth, closed it then scowled.

"What were we doing?" she asked.

"We were trying to flush out Weston's timeline in the book until you drifted off into your head for five minutes."

"Five minutes, really? How time flies when you are ignoring work and battling the imagined arguments of your two friends."

Beck leaned back on the couch, propping one ankle on his knee, studying her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Elliot shrugged and sank back onto the cushions.

"There's nothing to talk about," she said. "Cece has locked herself in her room for the last four days writing and Milo has been peevish to the point that girls no longer flirt with him."

"What's wrong with Cece writing?"

"Cece writes for two reasons. One, when she gets inspired. Two, when she's avoiding something."

Elliot put her head in her hands letting out an annoyed growl.

"Why couldn't they fight with other people I don't know," she said. "I hate being in the middle of this kerfuffle."

"Nice word choice. What if you didn't get involved?"

Elliot raised her head and looked at him with a flat stare.

"You realize by doing that I would be left with no best friends, thus eliminating my group of friends."

"Make new friends. Problem solved."

"Do you imagine that is easy for someone with my snarky disposition?"

Beck shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, "I always figured the entire world had an easier time making friends than me."

"You can't honestly think that?"

"If you met me at a party, would you talk to me?"

"Talk to you? Yes. Assess that your good looks were your only good quality and walk away? Also yes."

Beck gestured to her.

"So you see why I believe it's easier for anyone else to make new acquaintances."

"I get that. I did want to strangle you with your bow tie when I first met you."

"Not a fan?"

"Of you?"

"Of bow ties?"

"It was the easiest means of strangulation in that scenario. The second was my belt."

"Right. So you are a fan of bow ties, but just for their alternative uses."

"I always say use what's in front of you," Elliot said. "Or I just said for the first time ever but will be making it my catch phrase."

"I would find a new one."

"Use for the bow tie?"

"No, catchphrase."

She shrugged.

"Alright," she said, "if you feel that strongly about it."

"It was just a suggestion."

"You're adamant about it, fine. It's dropped."

Beck fought back a mystified smile and shook his head. Elliot's gaze travelled off to the right, as her brow became creased with troubled thoughts.

"Should we get back to the problem at hand?" Beck asked.

Elliot forced her attention on to him.

"The Milo and Cece's debacle?"

"I was going to say the book but either one works."

Elliot stood abruptly and started pacing in front of the couch. Beck's gaze followed her.

"I don't understand why Milo had to explode like that?" she said. "Doesn't he understand Cece at all?"

"Elliot," Beck said. "Milo had every right to say what he did."

Elliot froze and slowly turned to Beck.

"I'm sorry, did you just say 'Milo had every right to say what he did'?"

He gave a single nod.

"Yes, verbatim."

"How could you possibly be taking his side?"

"How could you not?" he asked, disbelieving. "You have to understand where he is coming from."

Elliot crossed her arms and leveled Beck with a frank look.

"Are you seriously going to argue this with me?"

"I just think you are closed off to Milo's side of it."

"Seriously? I've known him longer than you. I'm not closed off to his side."

"Really? Because it seems you're easily jumping to Cece's defense without giving any thought to Milo."

"And you're jumping to his defense without thinking about where Cece is coming from," she said.

"I understand both sides. I just believe Milo was in the right more than Cece was."

"You're serious?"

"Yes, viewing both sides of it Cece was at fault."

"No, she wasn't," Elliot said. "Do you think it's easy letting anyone get close? Do you think that we find letting people into our lives easy? Let alone trusting someone not to hurt us in a relationship."

Beck stood, his hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Elliot," he said, "you have to understand, Milo has been waiting for Cece to acknowledge him for over a year."

"She does acknowledge him," Elliot said, her voice raising. "No guy has ever come as close to dating Cece as Milo has. Heck! She ignores the majority of the human race. He should be ecstatic to be her friend and someone she cares about."

Beck scowled.

"You can't honestly expect him to wait around, can you?"

"You can't expect her to jump into a relationship with some guy without learning to trust him, can you?!"

"It's been over a year!" Beck said, punching every word. "What more does she need to know? She can trust him!"

"Yeah, well maybe she's scared!"

Beck ran a hand through his hair, his expression turning to exasperation.

"Of what?!" he shouted.

"Of stuff. Things you don't get."

"I get that everyone is scared, but you get over it! You face your fears!"

"This isn't that easy to get over! You seriously don't understand what you are saying."

Elliot crossed her arms and turned away from Beck.

"Then help me understand!" he said. "What could she possibly be so scared about that its worth giving up her chance of being with Milo?"

Elliot spun towards him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"She's scared of being hurt and abandoned just like she was by our father!"

Beck took a step back, surprised. Elliot sank onto the couch, burying her head in her hands. In the sudden silence the words lingered in the air, slowly meting into the walls. Beck settled back into his seat, looking at Elliot, his face thoughtful.

"I see," he said.

"Oh shut up," she growled. "You're doing that stupid thing again."

"What? Talking?"

"No, analyzing. It's annoying. And tell your brain to quiet down."

Beck fell back into silence. Neither occupant moved, their thoughts storming on. Elliot finally raised her head and looked at Beck. He met her gaze with a passive expression.

"I don't feel like telling you anything," she said, "but your stupid head is going to be analyzing me until I spell it out, so I might as well explain something."

Beck gave no response, his silence open ended. Elliot let out burst of air, the gesture seeming to deflate her. Her expression fell, taking her gaze along with it. For a long moment, she stared at the floor.

"Things between my parents weren't great but my mother is stronger than most and stayed with my father as long as she could for our sakes, but then when she asked him to leave he said he wanted a divorce."

Elliot fell silent for a second as she scowled at the carpet.

"Years of being a family were simply over. Cece took it the hardest."

Elliot raised her head and found Beck looking at her with softened features. She stared back with a hard expression.

"So stop thinking you understand, cause you don't," she said.

"Elliot, I'm sor-"

Elliot rose, the mood in the room shifting quickly.

"Let's go get coffee," she said, her face going closed off. "I want to check up on Milo. I would try to see how Cece is doing but she shoots me with a nerf gun every time I enter her room."

Beck nodded, still studying her. Elliot ignored the questions burning in his eyes and pulled her purse handle over her head. She moved to the door, not bothering to see if Beck followed. He grabbed his satchel and rushed to catch up with her.

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

The cafe had a forlorn feeling to it, although nothing was clearly different. The air still held the scent of coffee and pastries but a shift had come over the place. Conversations were held in low tones and writers huddled in corners, eyes glazed as they stared at their computer screens, blocked from the inspiration that had been there days before.

As they stepped inside Elliot shoved the painful memories of her past into the deep recesses of her brain, focusing on the problems of the present. Milo leaned against the back wall, reading, a frustrated scowl dominating his handsome features.

As they approached the counter, Elliot put on a smile. Without looking away from his book, Milo placed two cups of coffee and a bag, with a pastry in it, before them. Elliot frowned as she noticed steam rising from the fresh cup of black liquid.

"I didn't order yet," she said.

"It doesn't matter," Milo said. "It's Monday and your order is always the same. Beck's is the same as well.

Elliot crossed her arms.

"If this is your way of avoiding conversation then it's not going to work," she said.

"For there to be a conversation," Milo said, "two parties have to be participating. I'm not going to."

"Milo, you can't be serious? Talk to me."

Milo lowered the book and leveled her with a defiant stare.

"Why, El?" he said. "Why should I talk to you when you will be fighting for Cece?"

"You don't know that."

"I do. She's your sister."

"And you are my best friend," Elliot said, leaning on the counter. "I care for you just as much as I care for her. Sometimes I care for you more. You don't shoot me with a nerf gun."

Milo stared at Elliot for a long time. She met his gaze with an earnest, steady look. With a frustrated sigh, he broke their eye contact and ran a hand through his hair.

"How are you doing?" Elliot asked.

The scowl returned as he looked at her.

"I haven't talked to Cece in four days, how do you think I'm doing?" he asked.

"You weren't talking to her before this, it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Yeah, well, that had been my own choice." He ran a hand through his hair again. "This time I have no choice in the matter since she hasn't shown up at all."

"She's barricaded herself in her room for the last four days writing."

Milo's scowl fell away. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Beck glanced between them, amused by their silent understanding.

"Have you thought of calling her?" Elliot said, in a cautious tone.

Milo met her gaze with a new spark of resistance.

"No," he said. "I can't be the one to bridge this gap. I know I might have exploded on her but this has to be her choice. I can't go on the same way. She has to make a decision. I'm not waiting around anymore. I'm done with that."

Elliot made a face and Milo looked to Beck.

"You understand, right?" he asked.

Beck nodded.

"Of course," he said.

Elliot slapped Beck's arm.

"Shut up."

Milo placed his hands on the counter, leaning towards Elliot.

"El," he said," you understand how I feel about your sister. But I also need you to understand I can't sit here waiting for something that might never happen. You get that, right?"

Elliot scowled.

"What I get is that my sister is stupid and needs to make up her freaking mind."

Milo smiled, the gesture seeming to erase some of the strain of the last few days.

"I agree," he said. "But she should hurry up and do it. The clock is ticking."

"I know Cinderella, I know."

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

Light from the kitchen poured into the hallway. Elliot rubbed her eyes and yawned as she walked towards the warmth. In the kitchen she found Cece huddled on a chair, a mug clasped in her hands. The clock over the oven announced that most of the world was fast asleep and only the introverts, insomniacs and writers were still awake at the late hour.

Cece's hair was disheveled and her face wore a worn out and weary look. There were dark circles under her eyes. Elliot silently took a seat beside her, poured herself some tea and stared at the far wall of the kitchen. Minutes past by as neither of them talked.

Eventually when the liquid in Cece's cup had stopped steaming, she spoke.

"Are we royally screwed up?" she asked.

Elliot took a sip of her lukewarm tea and shrugged. "Given our track record and our relation to the queen, I would say yes."

Cece made no reply, her eyes still holding a lost look.

"Jokes aside, are we screwed up? I sometimes wonder if we are damaged beyond repair," she said, her voice quiet.

"Everything can be fixed," Elliot said.

"Not us. Not our family. We moved across the country just to get a way from our old lives."

"It was for a fresh start."

Cece turned to Elliot, her features expressing her troubled thoughts.

"Really?" she asked. "Or were we too scared to try and make it in the place that caused us so much pain?"

Elliot stared down at the table, Cece's words hitting too close to home. Cece looked at her, a pained look in her eyes.

"Why do we still feel the effects of what happened years ago?" she asked. "Why can't we move on?" Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. "When does it stop hurting and effecting how we live our lives?"

"I don't know," Elliot said. "I'm still waiting for that day."

Cece looked away and took a sip of her drink, uncaring of the cold taste, just needing something to do. Elliot shifted in her seat, turning towards her sister.

"Cece, I don't know when it will stop hurting but you have a choice. You don't have to let it effect how you live your life," Elliot said. "Milo isn't our father."

"No, he's not. But that doesn't mean I'm not truly terrified of letting him get close."

"So you lose him and what is it worth?"

"El, do you think it would be worth it if I got hurt again."

"Milo has proven himself a hundred times over. Don't you see? If you let what our father did be the reason you push Milo away, then he wins. Again."

Cece studied the inside of her mug.

"I've built so many walls I've forgotten how to get over them. Cold stone feels safer than someone's warmth. At least I know which one will always be constant."

"You turn yourself to stone. How is that any better than loving someone and facing the hurt, if it ever comes?"

Cece gave a half hearted shrug.

"I won't be hurt."

"But don't you get it, Cece?" Elliot said, emotion flooding her voice. "You are being hurt. Every single time you choose to close yourself off."

Cece looked at Elliot.

"I don't know how to do this, El," she said. "I'm scared and I don't know how to do any of this."

"It's not something that is hard to figure out. You're not trying to fly an airplane when you haven't learned to be a pilot, you're making a decision to accept someone's love."

Cece let out a shaky breath.

"Yet somehow flying a plane seems easier. And so much safer."

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