Elliot alighted from the T into the center of downtown Brookline. She turned away from the bustle and made her way down a tree lined street, a small paper bag and a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

Elliot stopped at the bottom of Beck's stairs, looking up at the front door. The flowers in the window boxes smiled at her in greeting, but the nervous ball of energy bouncing around her stomach kept her feet frozen to the ground.

After a few minutes of internal debate, she climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. A silent moment passed where she panicked and was about to turn away when she heard the sound of footsteps.

The door opened and a girl in twenties with blonde hair smiled at Elliot.

"Hi," she said. "Can I help you?"

Elliot shifted.

"Yes, this is the Daniels' residence, right?"

The girl nodded, the smile growing.

"I am here...to see Beck. That is if he is here and is okay seeing me. Which if he isn't, I understand. He isn't really expecting me at all."

The girl moved back and gestured for Elliot to come in. Elliot took a tentative step inside, staying with in reach of the door.

"I'll go get him," the girl said. "I'll also leave the door open in case you want to make a run for it."

Elliot let out a small laugh.

"It's not like I didn't have that thought twenty times in the last two minutes."

The girl left, chuckling slightly. Elliot did a small turn, looking over the entryway, trying to distract herself with the surroundings. The sound of footsteps halted her appraisal of the art and paint choice. She spun back around as Beck appeared from a doorway. A smile was edging its way onto his lips while his surprise and puzzlement stayed in his eyes.

"Hey, El," he said. "Everything alright?"

Elliot nodded vigorously until she realized how idiotic she looked and stopped.

"Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to see how your mother was doing." She shifted, causing the bouquet's plastic to crinkle. She brought them forward. "And to give her these. I know you said it isn't anything serious, but who doesn't like flowers?"

Beck laughed, the sound easing some of her nervousness. He reached out and took the flowers.

"Thanks," he said. "She'll love these."

Elliot smiled, her tense shoulders relaxing. Beck looked down the hallway then back at Elliot, a hesitant look in his face.

"I would bring you say hi, but she isn't going to be up for that today. I'm sorry."

Elliot nodded again and took a step back.

"I totally get that. I just wanted to bring those by." She held up her hands, waving off his apologetic look. "It's not a problem."

Beck's gaze moved to the bag in her hand, making Elliot realize she had a second gift.

"Oh, I...ummm...got this for her as well." She shifted as embarrassment raced through her, adding color to her already red cheeks. "It's a tea cup for her library. I loved all the things she had up there and figured she could always use more."

She held it out and Beck took it, his expression softened and an intense, concentrated look entered his blue eyes as he looked at her.

"That's really kind of you," he said, his tone full of warmth.

Elliot met his gaze and the edge of her lips curled.

"Well, I hope she likes it," she said. "I stole it from Ms. Newett."

Beck laughed and her smile grew.

"I'll make sure to tell her that. She's always a fan of a klepto."

"Who isn't? Especially when it works in your favor." Elliot shifted and pointed to the open doorway. "Well, I should probably go. I just wanted to give her those."

She took another step back towards the front door. Beck shifted forward.

"You don't have to go, just yet."

She hesitated. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, let me just go give these to her and I'll be right back," he said. He started to walk away, but paused and looked back at her. "Stay here."

She laughed.

"I'll be right here. Or you know, pocketing something from the living room."

A grin broke across Beck's face as he turned away. Elliot smiled as she watched him disappear down the hall.

She was just getting into the study of the painting hanging by the door when he returned. She looked at him and he gave her a half smile.

"She loves the flowers, and the tea cup even more. Thank you."

"Of course," she said.

Beck nodded to the front door.

"I know it's funny request but do you mind sitting outside? The house is old and it's easy to hear everything. I would rather not disturb her."

"That's totally fine."

They moved outside and Beck shut the door behind them. Elliot took a seat on the top step, her crossed arms resting on her knees. Beck settled down beside her, leaning forward.

"I expected you to still be writing," Beck said.

Elliot let out a quiet chuckle and looked at her hands.

"Yeah, I didn't realize the office was going to be so quiet without you," she said, glancing at him.

The corner of Beck's mouth curved upward as he kept his gaze focused outward.

"What will you do when I'm finished?" he asked.

Elliot dropped her chin into her hand.

"I don't even know. Hire you to come and type away on your computer? You could even start your novel. I wouldn't care. At least I wouldn't be alone."

Beck looked back at her, studying her face. Elliot met his gaze.

"That doesn't sound like a bad setup. Getting paid to write my own novel." He gave a wry chuckle. "Although, I always figured you would be excited to have me gone. You could finally get back to how you used to work."

She shrugged and broke away from his look.

"Things change. I guess I've just gotten used to you being there."

He gave another low chuckle, looking out at the opposite row of red brick houses.

"I didn't think that was possible."

"Well, it is. Because now it feels weird not to have you sitting across from me."

Elliot looked at him. He felt her gaze and turned his head towards her. After a second, she broke away and looked out to the street, trying to fight back a smile. Beck shifted and glanced down at the step, as if worried his expression revealed too much.

"Thanks for everything today," he said. She shifted her attention to him. "You didn't have to do any of that. I really appreciate that you did anyways."

Elliot smiled.

"Of course." She glanced away and back, uncertain. "I have something else for you."

Beck raised his eyebrows.

"What? More stolen contraband? Or possibly money you want laundered?"

She gave a nervous laugh and pulled out a small envelope. Beck's eyes darted down to it and then up to Elliot. Slowly, he took it and opened it. Inside was a check. He looked up at her in surprise.

"El, I'm not-"

She held up her hand, stopping his words.

"It's for your family...to help. Your mother told me stories about you and so we are bonded."

Beck held the envelope out to her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm not-"

"If you don't take it, I'll shove it down your throat," she said.

Beck gave her a teasing grin.

"I think that would make it invalid."

"True, but it would be fun."

He didn't retract his hand.

"Beck," she said. "Please. It's my way of saying thank you...for sticking around. Also I know how important mothers are." She dropped her gaze and Beck pulled back his hand. "Because of her I met you." Taking a breath, she pulled her focus up. "And it's one of the best things that has happened to me. It was worth it even after our first meeting."

She twisted to face him, curling one leg beneath her.

"Beck, without you, my book wouldn't be what it is. I wouldn't be who I am." She gave a wry chuckle and looked down at her shoe, playing with the laces. "Though really I'm not sure you want to take credit for that or not."

She gave him a teasing grin. He shook his head and looked down, smiling. When he looked back at her, a warm look sat in his eyes.

"I know I haven't said it but I will now, thank you," she finished.

Beck shifted towards her, holding her gaze.

"You don't need to thank me. I should be thanking you," he said, "for restraining yourself from killing me. That couldn't be easy."

Elliot laughed. "It really wasn't, have you met you?"

He joined in with her laughter. When the sound had died away and melted into the trees, his face went serious.

"El, you should know I feel the same way about you. Because I met you my life has changed. As annoying as it was, you made me realize I was the only one holding myself back from writing. I could've spent the next twenties years believing I couldn't do it, but because of you, I know I can."

Elliot glanced down, unable to met his eyes that held more than simple sincerity. Beck's fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out for hers, but he didn't.

"Thank you," he said.

She smiled up at him and he easily returned the look. They both jerked their heads towards the street at the sound of footsteps approaching. Grant walked up the sidewalk and paused at the base of the stairs. A spark of surprise flashed through his eyes at the sight of Elliot and Beck sitting close together. They looked at him and then at each other, coming to that same realization. As if one mind, they stood, creating space between them. Grant nodded to the house.

"How is she doing?" he asked.

"Alright," Beck said. "You off of work?"

"Yeah, I figured I would come see how she was, considering last night and everything."

Beck nodded. Grant pointed between them.

"Did I interrupt something?" he asked.

Elliot took one step down.

"Nope, just stopping to say hi," she said. She looked back up at Beck. "I guess I'll see you around."

Beck gave her a small smile.

"Yeah," he said. "Tomorrow for work."

Elliot stared at him, unsure she had just heard what he said. Grant frowned slightly, looking from Beck to Elliot and back again.

"You two work together?" he asked.

Beck nodded and gestured to the house.

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it inside."

Grant shrugged and jogged up the steps, slipping into the house. Beck moved to follow but turned back, giving her a nod. The gesture caused her shocked thoughts to settle and she smiled. With a wave, she moved down the steps. At the bottom she spun back and called out to Beck as he was closing the door.

"You're not going to cash that check, are you?" she asked.

Beck shook his head. She shrugged.

"I kind of figured you wouldn't."

Beck laughed.

"Why did you offer it then?"

"I don't know. I needed someway to say thank you, I guess."

He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, El."

"Later, Beckett."

He flashed her a grin before slipping inside. She headed toward the T station, struggling to fight back a smile.

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

The day was stretching into early evening as Elliot ascended her stairs and pushed through the front door. There was a second of quiet when she entered before Cece's door banged open and the thundering of footsteps filled the house. Elliot looked up to see her rushing down the staircase. At the sight of Elliot in the entryway, Cece skidded to a halt, her expression dropping.

"Oh. It's you," she said, not even bothering to mask her disappointment.

"Wow! How you have managed to keep Milo around with that kind of charm is astounding!" She tossed her purse onto the small table. "But that isn't the worst greeting you have ever give me."

Cece rolled her eyes and made for the stairs.

"Hey! That's all I'm going to get?" Elliot asked.

Cece turned around, putting one hand on her hip.

"What did you expect? You're not Milo."

Elliot tossed her hands up.

"And the truth is revealed once again! I have no worth whatsoever, because to Milo I'm not Cece and to Cece I'm not Milo. Why don't I just roll over and die already?!"

Cece looked down at her nails, inspecting them.

"That's what I keep wondering," she said.

Elliot dropped her hands to her hips.

"So you're really not going to hang out with me because I'm not Milo?"

Cece waved a hand, looking annoyed.

"Fine, I will hangout with you. At least until Milo gets here."

"You understand he has a dinner with his professor and an editor? That kind of dinner could go on for hours? And hopefully will because it means good things for Milo?"

Cece sank down onto a stair and placed her head in her hands.

"I know!" she moaned. "I don't even know what to do with myself. I keep expecting him to show up and hate myself because I want him to."

She fell onto the stairs dramatically, her brown hair falling around her. Elliot rolled her eyes.

"I would avoid coming here if I knew this was what awaited me."

Cece scowled and place her head in her hand.

"I don't even know how I got to be like this. I don't do this. I don't do whiny, clingy girlfriend crap. But now I have Milo and I don't know how to not care. Or how not to want to constantly be around him. It's aggravating is what it is." She pointed to Elliot. "I blame you for not killing him before this could happen."

"You know I keep getting blamed for not killing him and yet no one has thought about how I would feel if I did kill him. Does no one care for my emotions? Or how I would be scarred by the whole thing? No! Everyone just thinks I would simply do it like it was no big deal. A lot good you are as friends. I would be better off without you. I can always get a therapist later."

Cece drummed her nails on the wooden step.

"Are you done yet, because I zoned out there for a second and muted the ending."

Elliot waved her hands in exasperation.

"That's it! I'm killing you all with the help of Beck."

A mischievous look took over Cece's expression as she pushed herself up and leaned over her knees. Elliot scowled, knowing what thoughts lay behind it.

"So, you and Beck huh?"

"Nope! Not talking about this."

The look vanished from Cece's face and she shrugged.

"Fine, then we are going out," she said, standing. "I can't write and I'm not waiting around here for Milo like a pathetic girl."

"Going to find a new man? Makes sense. Milo has already found a new girl and I like her better. I think she is my new best friend."

"Ha. ha," Cece deadpanned. She climbed back up the stairs. "Change into something that looks better than whatever that is. We're going to a bar."

Elliot looked around her as if she couldn't fathom what Cece was saying and wondered if she was in the wrong house.

"Why on earth would we do that?!" she yelled, straining her neck to look up at the second story.

"Because that's what people do. Might as well try to be normal for one night of our lives."

"I still see no point to it. Normal sucks and so do bars."

"We're going!" Cece shouted from her room.

Elliot huffed and climbed the stairs, muttering to herself the whole time.

"And stop muttering!" Cece called. "You sound like a drunk and baffled philosopher."

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

The bar was full to bursting with men and women in their late twenties and thirties trying to appear younger than they were. Rock music cut through conversations. The air reeked of alcohol and too many bodies in an enclosed space.

Behind the bar, two guys in their twenties flipped bottles and poured drinks, their movements as easy as their smiles. Voices overlapped each other and filled the place with a chaotic sound. The door opened and closed as new floods of customers entered and the already drunk ones found escape.

Elliot leaned on the table, looking over the room, her expression one of mild annoyance. Cece leaned back in her tall chair, appraising the crowd with a disinterested air.

"Is this really fun for people? Or are all of them faking because they believe that this is what counts as a good time?" Elliot asked.

"I honestly don't know," Cece said, her tone distracted. "I can't fathom how this brings enjoyment to anyone." She dragged her gaze away from the swelling crowd and to Elliot. "I mean, I haven't seen a single betting transaction since we have been here. Where is their amusement?"

"I think it's getting drunk and making passes at strangers, but I'm still unsure about it."

They fell silent as the room grew in volume, the amount of alcohol consumed the cause.

"So are we going to talk about it?" Cece asked.

"I don't know what you are referring to, and even if I did I would still act like I didn't for the mere fact that we wouldn't talk about whatever it is that you want to talk about."

"Are we going to talk about the fact that you have feelings for writer boy?"

"I don't know what you are referring to."

"Play it that way, but eventually you will confide in me."

Elliot looked at Cece.

"Why should I? You have abandoned me for your own love and my life is fine the way it is. I don't need a man to complete me."

"Be that as it may, you will regret the fact that you didn't do anything when he isn't around."

"Will I? Or will I just go on like nothing happened and roll in the money that this book will make."

Cece cocked her head at Elliot.

"You must really like him if you are trying to play it off so flippantly."

"Am I flippant? Or do I simply not care as much as you think I do."

A smirk appeared in the corner of Cece's mouth. Elliot dropped her head to the table.

"Leave me alone. I don't want to talk about it. I have a crazy family and a disastrous wedding on the horizon, my life is already complicated."

Cece looked away and patted Elliot's head.

"There, there. He will eventually leave and you'll be broken for life. There are worst things. Like famine, alien invasions and reality TV."

Elliot raised her head.

"You and Milo are the worst sympathetic people ever."

Cece shrugged.

"It's probably why we found each other. Our joined annoyance with anyone who whines and the thought that they should be banned from society."

"Cece, that's pretty much everyone on the planet and social media."

"Then the world would finally have peace."

"It would only be you and Milo."

A wide grin spread across her face.

"Sounds perfect to me."

"And now you are one of those girls. Blah! You make me sick."

"Only because you are denying your own feelings for Beck."

"Then I will learn to live with a stomachache and take a Tums."

Cece shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"I will, thank you."

The crowd roared at something neither girl could see or cared about. The door opened and another group entered, clogging the already clogged space.

"You know," Cece said, her tone careless. "Beck has a good smile."

Elliot smiled, her gaze drifting off.

"Yeah, he does."

Cece looked over, a toothy grin in place. Elliot scowled.

"I hate you so much," she said.

Cece laughed, the sound attracting a few of the surrounding men's attention. She jumped off the stool.

"I know. Now let's leave this place before we contract normalcy or low standards."