Thank you all for your super-fantastic reviews. I have always wanted to put a story on here, but never thought I had it in me. (Still don't to be honest) But you all seemed to be pleased with "Impossibilities", so I thought I might crank out a sequel. Here's hoping I don't let y'all down too much.

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"Papi? Papi?" I could hear Emma's tiny little voice echoing throughout the house, calling for her father. For being almost ayear old, she sure did have a loud voice. Or I just had really good hearing…either way.

"Edward…" I said in a singsong voice. I looked over to see him perfectly at ease on the couch.

"Hmm?" He sounded as if he'd just awoken from a nice dream, though I knew better. I giggled a little and rolled from my position on the floor over to where the couch was.

"I do believe your daughter is hollering for you." I reached up and poked his chest for emphasis.

"Is that what that noise is?" He mused. I smacked him lightly on the arm.

"If you don't answer her soon, she'll probably have a fit and tear the whole house apart…again." I said while suppressing bad memories of house cleaning after Emma got so frustrated that she started throwing whatever her little hands could reach.

Emma had figured out early on that her father could hear her thoughts and learned to go to him when she needed something. Our only concern was that she might get too dependent on communicating silently that she might never learn to talk. But we were soon relieved when she spoke her first word: 'papi'. Supposedly meaning to say 'papa', but first words never sound like they should.

"Well Jasper is watching her right now, he can take care of whatever it is she needs. Besides, I'd much rather stay here with you." His voice still made me feel like a puddle when he said things like that. Somehow I had gone from lying on the floor to being on top of him.

"Yes, but you know how frustrated Emma gets when she's not with you." Just like me!

Edward gave a defeated sigh.

"Papi?" Emma's voice now sounded like she was trying to climb the stairs. Not good, she also inherited my clumsiness. Being a clumsy one-year old and adding two flights of stairs to the mix was just asking for trouble.

Both Edward and I knew how much Emma liked to challenge herself by tackling the stairs everyday. Which was difficult seeing as she could barely walk. Simultaneously, Edward and I launched off the couch and towards the stairs, knowing that at any minute Emma would most likely lose her balance and go plummeting towards the floor…she's done it before. We reached the stairs just in time to see our daughter trip and fly head over heals downward. I barely had time to gasp before Edward reached the bottom first and caught her.

"Papi!" She squealed and poked his nose.

I let out an audible sigh of relief. Thank the heavens for Edward's reflexes.

"What does she want this time?" I asked. Edward seemed to concentrate for a minute.

"Juice." He said pointedly. Emma immediately recognized the word and clapped her hands, rejoicing that she got her thoughts across.

"Juice!" she said excitedly. Edward walked into the kitchen to grab a juice box. "Momma juice?" Emma held out the juice box to me. Esme was very adamant that she have a polite granddaughter.

"No thank you dear." I laughed lightly at how cute she was. After a moment or two, she started to get a little fussy about wanting to be put down, but Edward would have none of it.

"Down Papi, down!" She whined.

"Mmm, I don't think so." Edward announced.

Suddenly Emma got a mischievous little grin on her face. Before I could process what happened she spit the remaining juice in her mouth all over Edward's face. He merely closed his eyes and scrunched up his nose. It was obvious he was trying not to laugh. I quickly gave up not laughing and started to roll on the floor. Emma, too, was very proud of herself and permitted herself a large, toothless grin.

"That's it!" Edward exclaimed and began to mercilessly tickle Emma until she started to squirm and giggle.

"Alright, alright. I think they can officially hear her squealing back in town." I said after a few minutes.

Edward promptly stopped tickling his daughter and sauntered over to me. I handed him a towel to dry off his face. He leaned in for a kiss before he started to wipe off the juice. Just as he was about to touch my lips, I put my hand between us.

"I'm not kissing that sticky face." I said with as much attitude I could muster and ran off towards our room, Emma now in my arms.

I could hear Edward following closely behind, wiping off his face.