Mort knew the car was coming to collect him, but he felt the need to take a walk through the woods. His feet seemed naturally to lead him down by the lake, he wanted to avoid it.. not just the trip to the conference.. but it all.. life.. all that stuff.. he walked almost in a daze..

He almost looked and felt like he was sleep walking. The only conection he seemed to visably have to his surroundings was a shudder in the cold breeze blowing in off the lake, at least he assumed it was that, something about the lake always made him feel uneasy these days,like some hidden monster was lurking in its depths. He sighed and chastised himself; you think too much and do too little. There is a book they WILL publish, that you should be writing

"What about Shooter" he mumbled to himself

What about him I don't see him"his thoughts replied

"No.. but that doesn't mean he's not around.. with his own plans.. " he sighed.. the lake felt colder and less welcoming as these thoughts swam through him. He turned reluctantly though and walked back to the cabin..

The car was already waiting for him as he approached. Clara stepped from it.. "I was beginning to think you'd done a runner on us Mort" she said.. warmly

"Don't tempt me.. " he said with a slight smile "I can't believe you talked me into this"

"Second thoughts? I knew it; that's why I came along" .she replied

"Second? Make it twentieth at least" he sighed

"No backing out now! Anyway they will pamper you there and you look like you could do with some pampering. Are you eating right?"

"What your my mother now? Agent is bad enough" he sighed, but smiled slightly, he knew he was not up to winning a battle of wits with her..

"Go get your stuff" she said .. pointedly not even dignifying his quip with a response.

"I'll go get my stuff" he said wryly..

"And make sure you've got clean underwear on!" she joked as he disappeared through the cabin door.. He stuck his head back out

"My.. my Clara.. don't say your interested in my underwear? what will the gossips say!" he smiled before disappearing again.

He knew this trip was coming, he again asked himself why he had not got ready for it at all, as if ignoring it would make it disappear. It never worked before, but it seemed, he thought ironically , he was in denial about his denial. He grabbing a battered old bag and shoved some random clothes into it. It was not so much packing as a random kidnapping of what ever clothes were innocent bystanders to his panic at having nothing ready and the deadline having passed. It was a familiar feeling. He walked out onto his landing and picked his lap top from his desk. . He looked around the cabin, his sanctuary since Amy disappeared, and since all the accusations.. And bad dreams started.. or rather started again..

"Ok I am ready.. " he said walking out to where she was standing along side the car,in reality he felt, and looked anything but

"Good job I am the agent and your the writer Mort, baby, cos you make a terrible liar" Clara said with a slight smile, as she smoothes her taylored suit, as if his dehevelledness was catching.

Mort smiled weakly

"Ok.. well I am at least giving in quietly; not kicking and screaming and you having to drag me into the car" he said with a shrug

"Shame.. I like the challenge; when they put up a fight" Clara said with a slight smile. Mort looked over at her. It was hard to tell how much she was joking, at times. He climbed into the car and slumped resignedly in the back seat.. Clara climbed in beside him and told the driver to set off. She smiled dazzlingly over at him and positively purred "Don't worry.. I know its your first time.. I promise I'll be gentle with you" she said wryly.. she then laughed softly at his puzzled look. . "The first of these writer convention things.. trust me.. I will steer you away from the .. stranger types.. and keep you quite safe" she assured him

"But who is going to keep me safe from you?" he asked her weakly