Elliot was too far gone in sleep to hear her door open. Or to hear the footfalls that moved across her carpet to her bed. The thing that did pull her slowly from her dreams was the sound of a deep, familiar voice.

"El," Beck said, his tone low and gentle.

Elliot mumbled something but made no sign of waking. Beck brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

"El, beautiful, wake up," he said, raising the volume of his voice a little more.

She moved onto her back, her face shifting towards him. Her eyes were still closed, her mind trapped by her dreams. He ran a hand down her face, calling her name as he did. Elliot mumbled again, the fog of dreams slowly receding. Beck crouched down by the bed.

"El, come on wake up. We need to leave."

Elliot blinked her eyes open. The room was dark, night still living in the sky. The only light came from the open door and the hallway. For a long moment she stared at nothing waiting for her eyes to adjust. Beck took form before her. He was fully dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater. When his face came into focus, she glared at him.

"What are you doing in my room?" she asked, her voice heavy with the last of her sleep.

Beck gave a low chuckle and brushed away a tangled piece of her hair.

"I'm here to kidnap you, of course."

"Oh, in that case..." Elliot twisted around and closed her eyes. "Go away."

Beck stood and placed this hands on the bed, leaning over.

"Come on beautiful, wake up."

Elliot pulled the blankets up towards her chin.

"Beck Daniels," she said, her words half mumbled. "I will not be swayed out of this bed by your useless term of endearment."

Beck shook her shoulder. "We have to go, El."

Elliot shrugged out of his hold. "What ever delusion I have given you about my affection towards you I take back. Now leave me be. It's too early and cold to go any where."

"The car is all warmed up," Beck said.

"I hope you and your car will be very happy together."

She scooted further away from him, causing him to laugh quietly, as if worried to wake anyone else. He settled on the edge of the bed, tugging the blankets off her. She shivered though the room wasn't cold. For a moment they fought over the comforter. Beck's fully awake state and strength won out and Elliot was left curled up on the bed.

"Freakin' eggs it's cold. I hate you so much Beck Daniels," she muttered.

Beck pulled her towards him and wrapped her in his arms. Her head rested against his chest, his heart beating faintly in her ear.

"I don't want your warmth, I want the dang blankets."

"Yes, but you aren't getting them. So I will have to do."

Despite her annoyance, Elliot shifted closer to Beck settling against him, her legs curled up. He smelled of coffee, pastries and winter. The soft fabric of his sweater brushed her cheek and she felt herself relaxing into the feel of him. Her breathing became deep, the rise and fall of his chest pulling her back to sleep.

"El, you can't go to sleep again. You need to wake up."

Elliot's eyelids were heavy, the smooth rhythm of his voice wrapping around her. He buried his fingers in her hair and cupped the back of her neck.

"Hey," he titled her head back, but Elliot didn't open her eyes. "El, open your eyes."

"Why?" she mumbled. "I see no point."

Beck chuckled and kissed her, his warm lips pulling her away from sleep.

"We're running away, remember?"

She looked up at him. Half his face was cast in shadow.

"I don't care for this Jack Kerouac on the road sort of thing you're going for. Go ahead and leave without me."

Beck smiled, the sight unwillingly pulling a small smile from Elliot.

"I can't leave without you."

"Why?"

"I would be lost without you."

"Not likely," she muttered. "I suck at directions and you have a phone."

Beck brushed her cheek with his thumb, his eyes absorbing all of her.

"What's the point of going anywhere without you?"

"Why are we running away? Did you finally knock off your assistant Evan?" Elliot laid her head back on his chest, pulling herself closer to him. "Probably for the best," she yawned. "He had an All About Eve look in his eyes. Best to stop those before they can do damage."

"I know. That's why we have to go."

"Body in the trunk?"

"Yes, Pacho is meeting us up in New Hampshire."

Elliot lifted her head and Beck took the opportunity to cup her face.

"What's in New Hamphire?"

"Two things." He kissed her again. "Now, come on. Get up and get dressed."

Elliot thought about it but tiredness won out. She turned away and fell back on the bed. "Tell Pacho I said hi."

Beck stood and picked her up. Elliot let out a surprised squeak and wrapped her arms around his neck. She glared at him and he gave her a wide smile.

"I have coffee in the car."

"You should have started with that."

He grinned.

"Running away?" she asked.

"Running away."

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

The house was perfectly still. No light except for the light in the entryway was on. The rooms beyond Tristan and Cece's doors were eerily silent. Elliot descended the stairs, dressed in boots, jeans and a sweater that felt like a big hug. Beck was by the front door, pacing back and forth, his eyes scanning over his phone. At the sound of her approach, he looked up. A smile jumped to his face. Elliot shook her head.

"Stop, it's too early for that," she said. "I don't even want to see you right now."

Beck stepped forward and cupped her face, the familiar feel of his thumbs brushing her cheeks producing a smile from her. "I know." He kissed her, his lips not lingering long enough. "Let's go before there are two bodies in the trunk."

Elliot laid her forehead against his chest, her arms tucked in front of her.

"Why can't it be another day?" she asked.

Beck wrapped his arms around her and she lifted her head, resting it back on his shoulder.

"Because the run away gods have spoken," he said.

"Did they send you a vision?"

"No, text."

Elliot looked up at him. "How very with the times of them."

"They had to update because no one cared what they said anymore."

"Yeah they probably woke up thinking the vision was a really weird burrito they ate the night before."

"Exactly," Beck said. "Move with the times."

"Or get left behind and forgotten."

"Or get called a hipster."

"Yeah, but who wants that."

Beck chuckled and released her. He grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and handed it to her. Tossing it over her arm, she took his outstretched hand. He opened the door and an icy wind paraded into the house. She shivered and Beck squeezed her hand as he lead outside.

The world beyond the door was dusted in white. In the yellow glow of the streetlights snow drifted lazily. The sky was a dull gray, heavy with more snow to come. The white flakes on the sidewalk lay untouched and the world looked like it was trapped in a snow globe.

Beck locked the door and led Elliot down the stairs to the waiting car. A cozy interior greeted her as she slipped inside. She put her jacket in the back besides Beck's as he climbed into the driver's side. The slamming of the door echoed in the quiet night. Elliot accepted the cup of coffee and sank back in her seat, looking out the window. Beck pulled the car away from the curb and headed out into the city.

In silence they drove out of Boston and headed North. They passed very few travelers, the head lights from other cars seeming like dreams as they darted by them in the opposite direction. The trees along the highway, aware of their bareness, had pulled on snow coats. The sky began to lighten, the gray becoming a shade cheerier.

Slowly, Elliot became fully awake. She looked over and studied Beck's profile. Every line and curve were as familiar to her as the feel of his name on her lips. He didn't seem to notice, his gaze trained on the road ahead. He glanced at the rear view mirror and then finally realized that she was staring.

"You're awake," he said, smiling at the open road.

He reached over and laced his fingers through her hand.

"Barely, I'm surprised you even managed to make it out of my room alive waking me up so early."

"I didn't wear a bowtie for that very reason."

"Smart. Last time Cece tried, I nearly took her head off with a pillow."

"Who knew pillows could be so lethal."

"Only those who fought in the great pillow-blanket war of 1973."

"I think my grandfather fought in that."

"It wouldn't surprise me. You come from a line of very distinguished men."

"That's true. My great great grandfather led the troops into great flour battle of 1796."

"I heard about that one. A lot of baked goods were lost that day."

"They were cooked from the start."

A smile played across Elliot's face as she watched the road, mesmerized by the flakes of snow as they rushed at the car.

"Where are we going?' she asked.

"A little diner in Portsmouth."

"How classy."

"I thought so too." Beck glanced at her and then back at the road. "I'm sorry I wasn't at the office last night. How did writing go?"

Elliot yawned and shifted in the seat. "Pretty good. Doesn't mean I'm still not terrified with writing my first non-YA novel. But so far I've only broken one computer, one window and one windshield."

"All in one go?"

"Surprisingly, it was all separate instances."

Beck chuckled, his gaze darting to her again. "I'm proud of you." He squeezed her hand.

She looked at him, loving the way his words filled every inch of her with courage.

"Thanks," she said, the simple word holding more weight than it could ever really hold.

They traveled the rest of the way in companionable silence, their hands intertwined, their thoughts tangled in each other.

When they got close to the city, Beck released Elliot's hand and navigated his way through the narrow streets. He pulled the car into a parking lot outside a red and white diner and shut off the engine. Elliot stretched and yawned, her muscles still sleepy. He climbed out and by the time she had unbuckled, he was at her door, opening it. She got out and rubbed her arms as the cold draped over her. Beck put his arms around her, encasing her in warmth.

Around them stood three story brick buildings packed together. Signs for toy stores, clothing, and coffee shops stuck out from the hall. The holiday season was apparent in the greenery hanging from store windows. Between two blocks the water could been be seen. Seagulls drifted overhead, unhindered by the weather and snow. Beck guided Elliot to the entrance and pushed the door open. The air was rich with the scent of fried food. The decor was red vinyl booths, white countertops and black and white tiled floors. Somewhere a jukebox whined out old eighties songs.

In the corner booth by the window sat Cece. She had her head resting on her fist, her gaze staring at the plastic menu before her. Beck squeezed Elliot's hand and they walked over to the booth.

"This spot taken?" Elliot asked.

Cece jerked her head up with a start. Her blank expression quickly slipped into a frown.

"What are you two doing here?" she said.

The bathroom door opened and Milo walked out, his hands in his pockets. When he saw Beck and Elliot, he greeted them with a nod and no look of surprise.

"Hey man," he said, "you got her out of bed and you're still alive."

"It's only because she loves me," Beck said.

Elliot slapped his arm. "That's still in the debate at the moment. You did drag me from my bed."

He kissed her forehead.

"Okay, let me know when you've settled on a decision about your feelings."

She looked up at him. "What if it's not in your favor?"

"Well, you didn't like me when we first met so I can change your mind."

"You think your charm is that good?"

"I know you have a thing for bowties and you like the way I look."

"So you're pretty confident?"

He gave her a wide grin. "Yeah."

"Dang! I hate it when you're right."

"Which is a lot. Does that counter my work with making you love me?"

"Yes, so what do you want to be, right or my love?"

"Easy." He kissed her. "Your love."

Cece rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring up at Milo.

"What is this?" she said.

Elliot and Beck both looked back at her.

Milo looked at her and shrugged. "Witnesses."

"How did they get here so fast?" she asked.

Beck pointed a thumb at Milo. "He texted me."

Elliot smirked. "The run away god himself."

"That's why you went back into the house," Cece said, "to text Beck."

"Yeah," Milo said.

She rolled her eyes and settled back in the booth. "Fine."

He slid into the booth and kissed her cheek, successfully defusing her annoyance. A smile grew on her face and she turned to him. The expression and the light in her eyes said everything.

"While you two gaze longing into each other's eyes I'm going to order," Elliot said.

She slid in and Beck followed. She pulled the menu over to them and began studying the items. Milo broke away from Cece's gaze and looked at Beck.

"Do you have them?" he asked.

Beck frowned and then nodded in understanding. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out two gold rings. Reaching across the table, he handed them to Milo.

"There you go," he said.

Cece scowled, her arms crossed again as Milo pocketed the rings.

"You forgot our wedding rings?" she said.

"No," Milo said, "it was in case you weren't happy to see them. I was going to say it was the reason they were here."

Cece's mouth twisted to the side as if she couldn't decide whether to glare or smile at him.

"I hate it when you're smart."

He kissed her, once again making her expression melt. "I know. Now let's eat so we can get hitched."

Elliot looked up. "I don't think people say that any more."

"Fine, tie the knot," Milo said.

"Exchange vows," Cece said.

"Settle down," Beck said.

"Like that's possible with this one," Elliot said, nodding to Cece.

"Walk down the aisle," Milo said, smiling at Cece.

"Drop anchor," she said.

"Plight one's troth," Beck said.

Elliot turned to him and gave him a flat look. "Now you are just making things up." She looked back at Milo as Beck kissed the side of her head. "Why do you want to marry her anyways? I've known her since the day she was born and even I don't like her that much."

"She's older than you, El," Beck said.

"Makes no difference, I watching her from heaven. You wouldn't believe the hell she put Michelle through even as a baby."

Beck smiled. They looked at Milo, who turned his attention to Cece. He made a face, his eyes narrowing.

"You know, come to think of it," he said, "I haven't the faintest clue why I want to marry you."

Cece ran a hand through his hair and cupped his cheek, making him smile.

"That makes two of us."

Elliot muttered. "Then that means I got out of bed for nothing." She looked at Beck. "I blame you."

"As you should, since I was the one that got you out of bed."

A waitress walked over to them, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. She pulled a pad and pencil from her apron.

"Hi," she said, her voice cheery despite the early hour. "What can I get you?"

The table gave their orders and she left. Before they could begin talking again, the door opened bringing with it a burst of voices. They all looked over to see Tristan, Marilyn and Milo's parents stepping in and shedding coats. Cece spun on Milo, but he didn't seem concerned with her fierce expression.

"What is this?" she said.

"My way of making it to my honeymoon with every limb attached and my life still in my body."

"You're signing a document that forever ties you with Cece," Elliot said, "that last no one doesn't really work."

"Then why is Tristan here?" Cece asked, ignoring Elliot.

"You said get a minster, right?"

She nodded.

"Tristan is our minister."

"Since when?" Elliot and Cece said together.

"Since the internet made it possible," Milo said.

The newcomers moved over to them, smiles at the ready and excitement dashing away the sleep in their eyes. Tristan took a stool at the end and made eyes with the waitress, assuring him the swiftest service the diner had ever seen. Marilyn smiled at the group.

"Hello, who feels like getting married?" she said. "Twenty bucks it's not Cece at the moment."

Cece shook her head and Marilyn laughed.

"Cheer up sweetheart, it never would have lasted if we weren't here to see it," she said.

"Because you would do everything in your power to make us feel miserable about you missing it and that would be the thing that eventually broke us apart?" Cece said.

Marilyn smiled. "Naturally. Now let's get coffee."

Milo stood and hugged his parents, his arms lingering around his mother as she whispered in his ear. He laughed and Cece grinned in response watching the interaction. Marilyn slipped in beside Beck and smiled at both of them.

"How long did it take you to get her out of bed?" she asked.

Beck wore a smug look. "Fifteen minutes."

Marilyn shook her head and smiled. "You're good."

She pulled out a ten and handed it over to him. Elliot leaned on the table, looking at her mother. She tapped her chin, looking thoughtful.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she said, "but hasn't it been two weeks since you and Cece went to look at wedding dresses?"

"I always knew this betting thing would come back to haunt me."

She handed Elliot a ten.

"Well, don't worry Scrooge, keep moving around like you do and Jacob Marley won't be able to find you."

Her mother winked at her. "That's the plan."

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

Milo led the small group across the square towards the steps of a tall chapel. Tristan walked in the back with Elliot and Beck. He yawned and gave the surrounding area a disinterested look. Snow covered everything, including the benches, making it seem as if the world were getting a paint job.

"Tristan are you awake?" Elliot asked.

"It all depends on the task before me," he said, pulling up the collar of his black peak coat.

"How about marrying off our sister?"

"In that case no. Half my brain is still in my room fast asleep."

"What task would it take to make you fully awake?" Beck asked.

Tristan frowned his half awake brain needing to run fast to answer the question.

"Anything that involves Hope. That woman keeps me on my toes."

"Isn't she the ballerina in this instance?" Elliot said.

"Yes," Tristan said, "but she likes me to understand how hard it is to do what she does."

"So you respect her," Beck said.

"No, so she can laugh at me when I fail at doing it right."

"You have such a beautiful relationship," Elliot said.