Battle Scar

RATED: K+ For innuendo

A/N: I owe my friends Jill and Jessah seven fics together (four and three, respectively) all of them Bellward. So, here's the first one...

I'm grumpy, tired and have a migraine. It's a wonder I got this up today- now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to crawl into my bed and die.

This isn't a song fic. There is just a string of lyrics at the beginning.

DISCLAIMER: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and the song Moon River belongs to someone who's not me.

Moon River, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style some day...

As many of you know, I, Isabella Marie Swan (soon to be Isabella Marie Cullen) have been alive for approximately eighteen years. That's eighteen years to have found the perfect moment, the perfect place where I feel...safe, warm, at home.

To most people this would not entail snuggling up with your ice- cold vampire boyfriend (Especially in a house full of vampires, in his vampire- esque bedroom), listening to Audrey Hepburn croon in the background, planning a wedding that you didn't even want in the first place.

But, I guess I kind of lost the idea that I was 'most people' a long, long, loooong time ago.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Edward whispered into my ear knocking me out of my thoughts. We were situated so that my back was pressed to his chest and my legs were in between his. Alice's rough draft guest list was sitting idle in my lap.

"Nothing." I sighed. "Really." I shifted my sprawled out leg a bit, hiking up the bottom of my sweats a bit to my ankle. I craned my neck around to see his face.

Edward's eyes were trained on a small brown line marring the instep of my cocked foot. It was a scar that I had gotten when I was twelve, the first and last time Renee had ever tried to teach me to ride a bike.

"How did you get that?" He questioned, reaching a hand around to brush it with his fingertips. I brought my foot up for easier access.

"Oh, you know. Ill- fated bicycle ride with Renee." I shrugged "I've had it for years."

"Really?" He looked perplexed. I relished this. It was not something a saw often. "I don't think I've ever seen it before." Edward's hand remained on my ankle, sending shocks through my entire body.

"Maybe if you had just let go of a little bit of that self control, you would have." I grumbled petulantly. He shook his head bemusedly and kissed my nose.

"You're silly."

"No, I'm sexually frustrated. There's a difference. I mean, Edward, you have the self control of a saint- were you ever a normal, teenage boy?"

He thought for a moment, brows furrowing, lips pursing. I think you know you've lived way to long when you can't remember the last time you perved around in the girl's locker room.

"When I was sixteen." Edward said finally "I tried to peep into Helen Bennett's bedroom window while she was getting dressed."

I huffed.

"What? Bella, are you...jealous?"

"Well, it's not like you ever try to peep in mybedroom window while I'm getting dressed."

"Something tells me that you being disappointed by this assumption is not normal."

"It's all your fault and, anyway, what do you mean by tried?" He laughed and pulled up his shirt sleeve, showing me a small, almost invisible scar about three inches in length.

"I fell out. Her father heard and chased after me for three blocks with a shotgun."

"So when you worry about Charlie trying to shoot you...?"

"Boy, have I got experience." We wore matching grins, and for a few minutes there was silence. Aretha Franklin mooned in the background and I found my happy place once again.

Suddenly, something dawned on me.

"Edward?"

"Mmmm?"

"What did you mean by assumption?"