Author's note: Happy birthday, Cherie.;)

Chapter Nineteen

Elliot

I was startled awake by an alarm sounding on my cell phone. I reached over and grabbed it from the nightstand. When I swiped my finger across the screen to silence the alarm, a notepad app was open. There was only one sentence written on it:

Don't be late for work.

When I closed the app, I saw the time.

And the date.

Shit. How is it possible that it's Monday? Where did the last two days go? I tried to think back, and I got nothing. Radio silence. The last thing I remembered was Cherie leaving my apartment late Friday night.

Mr. Robot. He took control, and blacked out the weekend. Should I be mad? Well, what would I have done this weekend? Sit around my apartment, worrying about how Cherie was processing everything that happened, and what her ultimate decision would be. Did we know her decision yet? No. No fucking way. That is something he would not have kept from me.

I got up and dressed quickly, getting myself ready to face another work day. Finally, I slung my backpack on and headed down the stairs. Cherie was not out front. For a moment, I wondered if I should have knocked on her door. Would that have made me look desperate? Probably. I liked her. I had kissed her. I did not want this to end.

So, I would wait for her on the front steps. I lit up a cigarette, trying to clear my head of all the possible scenarios of the impending conversation. A moment later, the front door opened. But it was just a tenet from the second floor; a woman in her late thirties who continually gets ghosted by her dating-site hookups and spends late nights searching pet adoption sites for cats that she'll never adopt. Dressed in a crisp skirt suit, she doesn't acknowledge me as she walks down the front steps and heads down the street to her job as a bank teller.

"Hello."

I turn to see Cherie approaching from the other direction, a coffee cup in her hand. What do I say?

"You're out early," I observed.

"Yeah," she replied. "Needed a little pick-me-up. Didn't get much sleep."

A lot on her mind, maybe? "We should…get going. Gotta…catch the train."

She nodded. I came down the steps and started up the street, quickly realizing that Cherie had fallen behind. I stopped and waited for her to catch up.

"What's the rush?" she asked. Before I could answer, she took my hand in hers and looked me in the eyes. "Let's take it slow."

I glanced down at our hands; her fingers interlaced with mine. She wasn't talking about the walk to the train station.

"Keeping up with me isn't easy," I said.

She smiled. "I would like to try it though."

"OK."

"OK."

1001110

Cherie

No, I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into. But I had spent the weekend carefully considering everything that had happened. It was a lot, and it carried a heavy weight. There were several things that I knew for sure.

First, something had happened to Elliot in the past. Something that was so awful that his psyche had created Mr. Robot as a protector from whatever that was.

Second, Mr. Robot existed. He had made one hell of a first impression. The second impression was only slightly better. But, like it or not, he was a part of Elliot. A packaged deal.

Third, I still don't know where the pills came from, and I wasn't really sure I wanted to know. Elliot had mentioned that he had been in jail before, but he didn't tell me why. Maybe there was a connection here. But, how bad could he be if he was helping someone in desperate need?

And fourth, I was developing feelings for him. No matter how hard I tried, I could not ignore them. And I could sense that he felt the same way. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was something that I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted.

We continued on to the train station. It was still quiet, so I tried to think of something clever to say.

"You'll have to remember to thank Darlene for the brownies," I said finally.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in a small smile before he took the last drag of his cigarette. I do wish he'd do that more. Smile, I mean. Not smoke.

"It was rather amusing to watch you theorize about how time travelers should only visit on Halloween," he replied.

"What?" I asked, stifling a laugh. "I don't remember any of that." Jeez, what else did I say while I was high?

"Kind of made sense. Disguised in a costume. No one would know."

"Must have been something Back to the Future inspired. I'm sorry our movie night was interrupted."

He shrugged. "Another time."

"Well, how about a consolation?'

"What do you suggest?"

"Lunch? My treat."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. "Like a date?"

Now it was my turn to think, carefully considering what the word meant in present situation but still knowing…

"Yeah, like a date."

Our first date, officially?

"Yeah. Sure. I'll, uh…meet you at your building?"

"Sure. Shoot me a text when you're on your way."

"OK."

"OK."