Elliot was jolted from her sleep by the appearance of a person dropping onto her bed. She shifted over as Cece took up part of her pillow. With a tired groan, she opened one eye and squinted at the day. Bright rays of light were falling into the room and bouncing off her yellow walls. Birds twittered outside, alarm-clocks to the day. Cece lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Did it ever occur to you to knock and then come in?" Elliot mumbled.

"Not for a second."

"Well, at least your brain is working as usual. I was worried after I didn't see you for a couple days."

"It's still screwed on straight." Cece looked over at Elliot. "How has work on the book gone?"

Elliot gave a floppy shrug, her eyes half closed.

"Hold on," she said.

She twisted around and grabbed her phone from the bed side table. Laying back down, she called Milo.

"Hmmmm?" a muffled voice answered.

"She's in my room," Elliot said.

The line went dead and she dropped the phone onto her blankets.

"He was in the living room?" Cece asked.

Elliot nodded, her eyes closed.

"We should start charging him rent," Cece said.

"He's dating you. I think that's payment enough."

"He really needs to get a life."

"You are his life, you idiot."

They heard footsteps on the staircase and a moment later Milo pushed open the door, wearing jeans and pulling down a t-shirt. Bleary eyed, he pulled Elliot's arm chair over to the bed and sank into it, his head falling back. Cece raised herself to her elbows, staring at him.

"Did you just wake up?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?" he asked, not moving.

"I hate you!" she said, collapsing back onto the bed.

Milo raised his head and blinked out her.

"Are you going to tell me for what reason? Or should I merely read off a list of my faults and see how you react?"

"How do you look that good after just waking up? Gosh it's annoying!"

Cece mimed gripping something between her hands then let them fall back down. Milo smiled.

"I think you look beautiful," he said.

"Yeah, well you should get glasses, because I passed a mirror and nearly screamed at the sight."

"He's wearing glasses," Elliot muttered, "they are just of the rose colored variety."

"Well, you should trade them in," Cece said. "I hear those things make it hard to see anything realistically."

"I'll make a note of it," Milo said, sliding back down on the chair.

"Are we still on for today?" Cece asked.

Elliot let out a weak moan. "Yeah."

Cece sat up and glared at her.

"Don't chicken out on me," she said.

Elliot flipped around, so she faced Cece, her arms crossed over her chest.

"He will hate us," she said.

Milo lifted his head, his tired thoughts pulled into the conversation. Cece's face went hard.

"I don't care!" she said. "We're not going through another six months like last time."

Elliot rolled her eyes but images of the six months in discussion flashed through her mind.

"Fine," she said.

Cece smiled and fell back down.

"Will you bring writer boy?" she asked.

"Yeah," Elliot said, "and Beck if he wants to come."

Cece nodded.

"How is the book going?" Milo asked.

Elliot shrugged and stared down at her comforter, fingering the edge.

"Fine," she said. "Beck writes faster than anyone I know. For every one chapter I write, he produces four. Honestly, when he showed up at the interview and said he could help me write it in a month, I thought he was boasting. I was wrong." A small scowl slid onto her face. "At this rate he will be down by the time I come back from the wedding."

Cece turned her head towards Milo and they exchanged a look. Milo looked at Elliot.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he said. "You've fought with this guy more than you have ever gotten along."

Elliot pushed herself up into a sitting position. Tangled hair fell in front of her face and she carelessly brushed it back.

"I know," she said, making her tone light. "I've just been around him constantly for the last four months, it just seems weird to think about not seeing him." Elliot frowned and pointed to Cece and Milo. "If you two exchange another meaningful glance than I'm kicking you out of my room."

Cece laughed.

"Fine, we won't, but if you don't want him to disappear, than do something about it, El."

Elliot nodded and sank her chin onto her hand.

"Yeah, or I could do nothing and eventually use my regret to write a series of tragic novels," she said.

Cece patted her head.

"Always good to think positive," she said.

Elliot huffed and Cece rolled off the bed. Milo blinked at her as she took his hand.

"Come on handsome, I'm making you breakfast," she said. "And if I feel like it, I'll let you kiss the cook."

Milo jumped up and smiled down at her, his tiredness erased. Elliot tossed up her hands.

"What about me?" she said.

"I'm not dating you," Cece said, "and I don't even like you that much."

Elliot frowned then called them to stop. They paused at the doorway, looking back at her. Elliot raised her hand, looking at Milo expectantly. He stared at her puzzled, then moved over to her, pulling out a five dollar bill.

"Thank you," she said, taking it.

Cece looked between them.

"What was the bet?" she asked.

"Oh, no bet," Elliot said. "Milo just paid me to call him when you got up. He figured my room is closer than the stairs."

Cece smiled up at him and slid her arms around his neck.

"You know me so well," she said.

Milo wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her nose.

"I do," he said. "That means I also know when you offer to make me breakfast, I'll be doing the cooking and you sit there looking cute."

"Yes, but I will kiss you."

"Then it's all worth it."

Milo leaned in and kissed her. They were startled from their kiss when a pillow was hurled at them and hit their heads. They looked over at Elliot. She pointed to the sign by the door reading, 'no kissing or acts of affection from Milo and Cece'.

Milo shrugged and kissed Cece again, getting another pillow to the head as a result.

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

"Holy dungarees!" Elliot said, looking at her phone.

She quickly saved her writing and closed her computer. Beck glanced up at her from his computer, only half paying attention, his mind still trapped in the realm of words. Elliot stood, grabbing her purse then looked at Beck with a hint of exasperation. Holding back his puzzlement, he stared at her, making no move.

"Come on," she said.

"Might I ask where we are going in such rush?" he asked.

"We have lunch reservations."

Beck raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"We have lunch reservations?" he said.

"Yes."

"I have reservations about this."

"Well, cancel them, we have to go."

After a moment where they stared at each other, Beck closed his computer lid and stood up. Elliot pulled on a big, floppy hat and put on a pair of round sunglasses. When she turned back to Beck, he was smiling at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Are we getting coffee and pastries and stopping by Tiffany's to stare into the window?" he asked.

"This is fashion."

Beck's smile widened with amusement.

"Whatever you say, Holly Golightly," he said.

They left the office and stepped out into the city. Heat settled around them only to be stirred up a second later as a breeze tripped passed. Elliot led the way as they moved down the sidewalk.

"Are you going to tell me where we are going?" Beck asked, his hands tucked into his pockets.

Elliot slipped her arm through his and waved her hand dramatically.

"Where is your sense of whimsy and romance?" she said.

Beck glanced down at their intwined arms then up at Elliot. A blush raced through her cheeks and she quickly pulled her arm back, turning her head away. When she looked back at Beck, he was holding out his elbow.

"It seems only right," he said. "I am your escort after all."

Elliot laughed and took his offered arm. They walked through the public garden. Willow trees swayed lazily, while couples lay beneath their branches, taking part in the laziness of summer. Squirrels darted across the grass and took cover in the tree tops, hoarding their contraband. Swan boats cut through the water, below the bridge, as tourist clicked pictures.

Elliot guided them to a restaurant over looking the Garden. Outside was a collection of tables all elegantly dressed in table cloths and china, surrounded by business men and groups of well appareled women. A wall of windows lined the restaurant and reflected the afternoon sunlight. Beck pulled the door open for Elliot and they entered.

The air was cool inside and filled with the sound of voices and wisps of music. The hostess greeted them with a smile and a question. Elliot glanced around the restaurant. When she didn't spot Cece or Milo, she turned her attention back to the hostess.

"Yes," Elliot said. "It's for Elliot McKenzie."

Hostess found the name and pulled out two menus. With a nod, she led them through the restaurant to table towards the back. Elliot slid into a chair and removed her glasses, staring at the entrance. Beck leaned back into his chair, watching her with a concentrated look.

"El," he said.

"Hmmm?" she said, not looking at him.

"What are we doing here?"

"Probably eating, that's what most people do at a restaurant."

"Yet, I'm here with you and have an unsettling feeling about this."

"Then you know me too well."

The front door opened and Cece, wearing a large hat similar to Elliot's, and Milo walked in. After a brief word with the hostess they made their way over to the table. Beck's gaze darted between them and Elliot.

"Look who is here!" she said, smiling at him.

"What are the odds running into you two here?" Cece said.

Milo pulled out Cece's chair for her, before taking his own seat.

"I would ask, but I have given up on that," he said. He took a menu and opened it. "Might as well eat before whatever is going to happen, happens."

Cece grabbed a menu and started to look over it. Beck folded his hands and placed them on the table, looking at Elliot with a confused expression.

"El," he said, "is this a double date?"

Elliot let out an amused laugh.

"Please," she said, "it's nothing as sinister as that. No, we're here to spy on Tristan."

Milo looked up from his menu.

"Oh, is that all?" He shrugged and looked back down. "I was expecting something more interesting but I guess that will do."

"We're spying on your brother?" Beck asked.

Elliot nodded.

"For what reason? Or is that a question I'm asking to much for?"

"Tristan is going to be on a date here and we are here to see who the girl is," Elliot said.

"Of course. And the hats are to keep you inconspicuous."

"Exactly."

Beck leaned back in his chair with a resigned look. He opened his menu and glanced over it.

"And here I thought we had simple lunch reservations. How wrong I was," he said.

Elliot smiled at him as he shook his head. His gaze darted up to her and she dropped hers suddenly finding interest in the pattern of the white, non-pattern tablecloth. The low hum of voices drifted about them, as the other restaurant occupants carried on with boring, normal day conversation, that the group at Elliot's table had never dreamed of having. After a few minutes of silent perusal, Beck flipped his menu closed and put it back on the table.

"Okay," he said, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Just tell me why we are spying on your brother?"

Cece, convinced Beck's comment didn't need her full attention, looked back at her menu.

"Because it's for his sake and our sanity," she said.

"I thought you lost that long ago?" Beck asked.

"True, but there is always more to lose," Elliot said.

"So..."

He looked at Elliot intently, his arms crossed.

"Fine," she said. "I will tell you why we are here. Tristan has about the worst luck with women any man can have. That includes Milo over here."

Milo raised his hand, scowling.

"Excuse me, I've had great luck."

Elliot rolled her eyes, not even looking at him.

"You're dating Cece, you have no say in this," she said.

Cece made no reaction to this and Milo's scowl deepened. He opened his mouth to retort, but Cece simply laced her fingers through his and the matter was dropped just as quickly as his scowl.

"So," Elliot continued, "because of this fact, and the disaster of his last girlfriend, we took the necessary precaution of making sure this one isn't like the others."

"What precaution?" Beck asked.

"You know, the normal ones," she said, with a shrug.

"It's you. I'm not sure the word 'normal' even lives in the same universe as you."

She scoffed and waved away his comment.

"You know," she said, "we stole his phone, cracked his password, found out when his next lunch reservation was and made plans to be at the same restaurant. You know, normal."

Beck smiled as he stared at her.

"Of course, normal," he said. "So what happened with this last girlfriend?"

Cece looked up, sharing a glance with Elliot. Elliot turned to Beck.

"Well, we don't talk about her," she said.

"Why? Did she die?" he asked.

"No."

"We wish," Cece said.

"And tried," Elliot said.

"But our FBI tail stopped us."

"And arrested our assassin."

Beck laughed.

"So I won't be hearing about her then," he said.

Cece shook her head.

"She just left Tristan in pieces," she said.

"It was super annoying, he just wandered about looking depressed and all levels of sadness. He even grew a beard."

Cece shuttered and looked off.

"He looked like a better looking version of Zach Galifianakis," she said. "Worst look ever. What really made us decide to do watch out for him from then on was when he went off the rails and bought a pair of orange pants."

"There was no turning back after that point. We have to save him from himself," Elliot said.

Beck looked between them and gave a single nod.

"Okay then," he said.

"It's why I don't ask questions anymore," Milo said. "Ignorance is bliss and that is more true than ever with this lot."

The group fell quiet as they read over the menu, still trying to understand the unintelligible writing and waited.

The waiter was just leaving, after receiving their order, when the door opened and Tristan entered with a brunette on his arm. Cece and Elliot immediately sank low in their chairs, watching as the hostess led them to a table by the windows. Tristan helped the woman into her chair. As he took his own seat, beside her, his eyes landed on their table, his face only slightly annoyed and not at all surprised. Cece looked at Elliot.

"I think our obvious slouched positions gave us away," she said.

"Yes, it was that and not the fact that we are wearing enormous hats," Elliot quipped.

"It works all the time in the old movies."

"Yes," Elliot said. "When everyone else is wearing them as well!"

Cece straightened and Elliot matched her.

"Should we get this over with?" she asked.

"Might as well, it will be ages before our meal is here," Cece said.

"Then let's go."

All four of them stood and made there way to Tristan's table. He looked up at them blandly, letting out a small annoyed breath.

"Fancy seeing you here," Elliot said, with a wide grin.

The woman wore an amused smile as she looked over the group, her expression contrasting Tristan's irritated scowl. She leaned forward and rested her arms the table.

"Let me guess," she said, pointing at the two girls. "Cece and Elliot."

Cece and Elliot exchanged a shocked look. They turned back to the woman, crossing their arms, their expressions defensive.

"You did background checks on us?" Elliot said.

"You should know we've done one on you," Cece said.

The woman rested her chin on her laced fingers, smiling.

"I'm sure you've done that for everyone your brothers have dated," she said.

Cece snorted and Elliot shook her head.

"No," she said. "Just Tristan. The others can risk it."

Cece pointed at the woman.

"You should know that thing about me in Jamaica was faked," she said.

"And I only spend six months in San Quentin for research on a book," Elliot said. She gave a guilty shrug. "It just took a lot longer to get out then it did to get in. But the tattoos were easily removed."

The woman sat back in her chair, looking at Cece and Elliot, laughter dancing in her brown eyes and her arms crossed. Tristan had one arm resting over the back of her chair. She looked at him.

"I like them," she said.

Tristan let out a disgruntled huff.

"At least one of us should," he said.

Cece placed her hands on the table and stared at the woman, her eyes narrowed.

"Here's my question for you," she said. "Would you rather be beheaded or run through by a bayonet?"

The woman quirked one perfect eyebrow and studied Cece. After a silent moment, where Tristan managed to look even more frustrated with his lot in life and Milo and Beck shared a look, the woman answered.

"Beheaded, for a swift end," she said. "Bayonet for a dramatic one."

Cece stood up and looked at Elliot.

"Round one passed," Elliot said.

"Round two it is then," Cece said.

The woman tried to suppress her smile of amusement, waiting patiently.

"Alright," Elliot said. "Favorite restaurant in a one foot radius?"

"The one down the street," the woman said.

"Favorite type of maple tree?" Cece asked.

"An oak," the woman said.

"Glass or steel?"

"Plastic."

"Oranges or apples?"

"Too different to choose."

"How do you get from point C to point A?"

"By running backwards through the alphabet."

"Beach or desert?"

"Both have sand."

"Train, plane or bus?"

"Metro, helicopter, taxi," the woman said.

Cece and Elliot stared at the woman, their eyes wide with wonderment. Beck tried not to laugh and Milo wore an expression that said this was a common occurrence in his life. Tristan looked between his sisters, his expression teetering between amusement and smugness. Cece leaned close to Elliot and mocked whispered.

"I can't decide," she said. "I like her but I was hoping one of us would date someone normal."

"Hey!" Milo said.

Elliot rolled her eyes and gestured to Cece.

"Again, Milo you're dating Cece that instantly makes you odd."

He made a face then shrugged.

"What's your name?" Elliot asked.

The woman smiled, the look completely unguarded.

"Hope," she said.

Elliot and Cece looked at each other.

"That's ironic," Cece said.

"Yes," Elliot said, "but it works because we've been lacking in irony in our lives lately."

"That's because our laundry lady quit and I don't know how to do pleats."