"That's it!" Elliot said, tossing her computer onto the couch beside her. "I have completely run out of words."

Beck glanced at his watch then back at his computer.

"That's only the fourth time today it has happened," he said. "That's an improvement from yesterday."

She pulled off her glasses and dropped them onto the couch. The office was lit by the fading light of the sun, as evening slowly took over the sky. She stood up and moved to the coffee maker.

"Yes, well this time I mean it. My brain has given up. No more genius shall becoming from my head."

"Has it ever?"

With a look of mock hurt, Elliot slowly turned around to find Beck typing away, a wide grin on his face.

"Beck Daniels, I have half a mind-"

"I'd say it's a little more than that."

"-to have you fired."

"You threatening to fire me only works when that's an actual threat," he said. He looked up at her. "You do understand that's how threats work, right?"

She scowled.

"I'm thinking of throwing this coffee maker at you," she said.

Beck pointed to her. "Now that's a threat."

Elliot laughed and shook her head, Beck's smile growing. He saved his work and closed his computer, setting it on the coffee table. Equipped with a fresh cup of coffee, Elliot sank back onto the couch, leaning her head on the back of it. Beck pulled his ankle onto his knee and eyed the cup.

"Aren't we going to the cafe?" he asked.

"No, tonight is trivia night at Emmet's," Elliot said. She glanced at her phone. "You want to come with?"

"You play trivia?"

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Oh no," she said, her expression going serious. "We've been banned from playing it at every cafe and bar there is in Boston."

He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"What do you think? It's Tristan, Milo, Cece and me."

He nodded in understanding.

"Ah, of course, too many betting rings."

"No, we just kept winning. Although we did have a betting ring going for who came in second."

With a slightly puzzled look, Beck crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch.

"So how are we going to go to trivia tonight?"

"Oh, even though we can't play, the betting ring is still on."

"Naturally."

Elliot smiled and Beck easily returned the gesture. She broke away first, before his blue eyes could turn her smile into something idiotic. Setting aside the cup of coffee, she picked up her purse and stood.

"We should head over, get something to eat before the festivities begin."

He followed her lead, pulling his satchel over his head. After she dumped the coffee, they made for the door. Beck took an extra quick step to reach it before Elliot and pulled it open for her. They paused in the doorway, as a group of women walked passed them and down the stairs. Elliot turned to Beck with a wide eyed expression.

"Did you know other people worked here?" she whispered.

"I assumed. It is an office building."

"Yeah, but I haven't seen anyone before. I always figured they slept in filing cabinets or something."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah. They aren't too bad once you get past the pure torture of being stuffed in a filing cabinet."

"Life experience?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, turning away dramatically. "Let's just say the sight of manila folders and copies still haunt my nightmares."

She gave a fake shudder. Beck laughed and she smiled up at him.

"Well," he said, "I'm sure their union rep would have something to say about people sleeping in filing cabinets."

Elliot pointed at him.

"You would think that, but he just looks at you like you're crazy."

"Are you crazy?"

"This has not been proven."

She gave him a wide smile. He stared down at her, shaking his head, the light of amusement in his eyes and his lips touched with an echo of a smile. Elliot shrugged, her smile shifting to a sly grin.

"Or maybe it has been and I've just destroyed the evidence. We will never know." She nodded to the doorway. "Come on, I'm hungry and unless we don't leave now, I'm going to have to eat the door, because cannibalism gives me indigestion."

She stepped out of the office and Beck closed the door behind them.

"I heard that's true for most people," he said. "I know I can't stomach it."

They walked down the stairs and pushed through the front entrance. The city was buzzing with the subtle energy that appears with the weekend and the word freedom is on everyone's lips. Instead of the usual crowd of blank faced individuals that usually clogged the sidewalk, there were people smiling and talking animatedly, like a switch had been flipped inside them. Random bursts of laughter filled the air where groans would have been.

The tops of the buildings were outlined in yellow and the tendrils of the sunset were reaching across the sky. Faint strains of music came from the Common as people moved closer to join in with the rhythm and cast off their week day moods. Beck stood staring off into the Common, the sight of a growing crowd and his curiosity holding him there.

"You coming with me or are you following the herd mentality?" Elliot asked.

Pulling his gaze away, he looked at her, then cracked a smile and just stared at her. She crossed her arms.

"Why are you just staring at me?" she asked.

"I was waiting for the punch line," he said.

"Not everything is a joke, Beck."

"But with you it seems it is."

"Not in this case." She waved her hands off to the side. "Now can we get mooo-ving, please?"

Beck laughed and she winked at him and started walking. He quickened his pace to catch up with her.

"Who is coming to trivia night?" he asked.

"Milo, who will be dragging Cece, then you and me," she said.

"No Tristan?"

"Tristan is not even allowed at the bar on trivia night. He's really competitive. He punched a guy once." Elliot frowned. "He was also having a bad hair day, so we're not sure if that was the real reason."

"I'm not even going to ask about the bad hair day."

"Good, it means you're learning."

"Or giving up trying to understand."

"Either way it shows improvement."

They made their way through the city, passing bars with music slipping out the open windows along with conversations and laughter. The sidewalks were crowded as groups shrugged off worries and went looking for worthwhile regrets. Elliot cut down a side street, passing shop windows closing up for the night. They stopped at a bar on the corner of a street, the outside painted black with green trimming. Flower boxes sat below the windows dotted with an assortment of dainty blossoms. Elliot pulled the heavy wooden door open and walked in.

The air smelled of wood vanish, alcohol and fried food. One half of the space was taken up with a long bar with a row of stools set before it. Tall tables and padded booths filled the rest of the area, already half full of diners and early drinkers. The clamor of voices filled the pub, buoyed by a quiet song playing in the background. The man behind the bar looked up as they entered, his hand pausing in the act of wiping a glass.

"Hey there, Elliot," he said, a wide grin spreading across his black bearded face.

Elliot moved forward and leaned against the polished bar.

"Hey Tony," she said.

Tony gave a nod to Beck, who took up a spot beside Elliot.

"This your boyfriend?" he asked.

Elliot looked over and smiled at Beck, then shifted her attention back.

"No, he's only around because I pay him," she said.

Beck crossed his arms.

"You realize that makes me sound like a gigolo, right?"

Elliot glanced over.

"Well, it's good money and you have the looks for it."

Tony chuckled and Beck raised his hands looking from Elliot to Tony.

"I'm her cowriter," he said. "I'm not a gigolo."

Elliot smirked back at Tony.

"I'll get a couple of menus, for me and my escort."

Beck scowled and Elliot's grin widened, the look successfully defusing his annoyance. Tony pulled out menus from behind the bar and held them out. Beck took them.

"I'm not her escort," he said.

"No," Elliot said. "You merely escorted me here."

She snatched a menu and walked over to an open table. Beck took the seat opposite her, as she flipped open the plastic and beer stained menu.

"How is it he knows your name?" he asked, pointing back to Tony.

Elliot looked up at Tony, before focusing on Beck. With a teasing smile, she leaned her arms on the table.

"Do I or my family strike you as the type of people to be easily forgotten?" she asked.

"No, I guess not."

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, raising the menu.

"Well, it had nothing to do with that," she said. "This is the bar Tristan punched someone in and I had to flirt my way out of the situation before it got worse."

"You flirted your way out?" he asked, one skeptical eyebrow raised.

Elliot lowered the menu and scowled.

"I'm a writer, I know what to say in those kind of situations."

Beck rested his arms on the table.

"You flirted your way out?" he said, again, as if trying to understand a complex equation.

"Hey! I have read Gone With The Wind three times, I know how to flatter a guy and bring the flirt."

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry I just can't picture it."

Elliot dropped her gaze and played with the edge of the table.

"That's because I've never flirted with you," she said, her voice quiet. She shrugged in a bashful manner. "I mean, really, how could I? You're a lot smarter than me and I would just be lost for words."

"Well, that's not...true," he said.

He shifted, his face reddening. Elliot flashed her eyes up at him, her smile turning mischievous. His face fell into a mocking look.

"Point taken," he said.

Elliot's gave him a victorious grin, which he returned with a flat look.

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

Florida State! (Ha! Surprised you didn't I?!)

Moving on. I have a funny, amusing, interesting, weird story for you. (You can decide later which it was.)

So I was thinking the other day what I would write for my author's note (sometimes they are spur of the moment things, sometimes not) and decided I should talk about airports, how magical they are because there's so many possibilities and whatnot.

Of course it's me and instantly my brain jumps to, what if someone had enough money they just show up at the airport and decide where they want to go from there? (You should know 'what if' is the beginning of any story idea) Naturally that lead to a full fledged story that kept me up at night. Well, now I have a new story and a pretty complete one at that. The side effects of being me, I guess!

Buy a ticket, grab a seat, see the world!