A/N: This piece is set soon after the conclusion of Part One.

Disclaimer - As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Jo's face was furrowed with concentration. Her long, lean frame folded over her tin writing desk in the garret. Following several consecutively successful stories in the Spread Eagle, Jo's mind has been a continual hotbed of activity. New stories, sensational stories taking place in faraway lands cropped up in her head faster than her bed of sunflowers in her summer garden plot. The paper and more importantly, her audience, clamored for more, and like Scheherezade, Jo dutifully spun tales to keep her king happy.

Meals were tasted and forgotten. Sleep marked the passage of one chapter to the next as Jo pushed for "just one more" before slumber shut her eyes. If it weren't for dear Beth, Jo would have not taken a breath of fresh air in weeks. For only her Bethy alone could coax Jo out of the garret. And Jo was the only one the beloved invalid would allow to bear her up for her daily outing.

Meg had begun her preparations of becoming a housewife under the guidance of Hannah and Marmee. Amy now spent much of her time at Aunt March's since Beth's illness. Mr. and Mrs. March have agreed to step back and allow Jo's genius to burn, as Amy's caricature later so fittingly captioned. Life's lessons have always been most effective when unfolded at their own pace, so with the help of Hannah, Mr. and Mrs. March kept the household running like clockwork despite the marked absence of Jo's jovial presence.

Which leaves Laurie. Jo's "dear boy" has felt the neglect most acutely, having the door shut in his face followed by a muffled "Go away, Teddy." countless times. Beth's gentle company and the Marches' unflagging hospitality were a comfort and a welcome to break to his studies, yet he missed his girl. Laurie would be leaving for college in a few months and he felt that his limited time at home must be spent with the one whose company he craved.

This particular day was no different from the rest. Jo's pen was frenetically scratching away upstairs, while Laurie lay on the rug down below. He had been entertaining Beth with stories of his own, and had now fallen silent. Beth frowned at his blue mood, for she didn't like seeing those she loved unhappy. She tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder and suggested, "Perhaps you would like to go upstairs and visit Jo?"

Laurie smiled at Beth's suggestion, and glumly replied, "What's the point? She'll just shoo me away like all the other times."

"But what if she didn't have a choice?"

Laurie regarded Beth with a raised eyebrow. Did shy little Beth have a plan?

***

Jo was the picture of one completely absorbed in her work. Her cap was askew atop a disheveled head. Her hands and scribbling suit was blotched and smeared with ink. A plate and cup containing a half-eaten breakfast lay at her feet. Several broken pen nubs and discarded paper with half-thought scribblings littered around her desk. Jo paid no mind to Scrabble's constant patterings overhead, and paid even less attention to a quick and purposeful step on the garret stairs. When Jo did look up, her story became forgotten and her eyes went wide with surprise.

A/N: With life's other commitments and constant writers' block, I decided to adopt my own version of Kate Vaughn's game here, hence the title. I'm calling upon you gentle readers and fellow LW fanfic writers to help keep this story going! In you're interested in taking up the next chapter, please PM me. The next chapter will go to the first PM I receive. Also, you are welcome to contribute more than once (I'll pitch in a chapter here and there myself), the only thing is that the writer cannot contribute two consecutive chaps. I will not edit new chapters coming in (unless requested!) and will credit each contributor. I really enjoy reading the different stories/perspectives here, and thought it would be fun for us all to collaborate on one project. Intriguing idea, no? Let's see if we can keep this story going throughout the year! :)