A/N: This update is for anhanninen, whose birthday was Friday (I know, I'm a little late!). Happy birthday, hon!

All standard disclaimers apply.

Fairy Godfather

Edward's ridiculously late by the time he reaches the bar, but he texted his brother Emmett earlier, and he doesn't really care how late he is. Bella's more important, just as he told her.

"Dude," Emmett says, reaching out a fist to bump. "Thought you might not make it."

"What was so important?" Jasper asks, slouching in his chair. Edward joins them, stealing two Cajun-spiced tater tots from the basket in the center of the table.

"Probably a girl," Emmett mutters loud enough that he means to be heard.

Edward doesn't take the bait. "Technically it was a woman," he tells his brother and his best friend. "She needed some medical attention."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Emmett snickers. "Hey!" He grabs for the basket of tater tots as Edward steals another.

"Don't be crude," the waitress tisks, setting a Red Hook in front of Edward without being asked. "Any food today, doc? What can I get you?"

"A cheeseburger, as rare as the cook can legally make it, and an application, please."

This is a regular hangout for Edward and his brother, and the waitress knows him well enough to grin. "You thinking of changing careers so soon, doc? I thought you got a job not too long ago."

"It's for a friend," Edward says, smiling back without hesitation. Inside, though, he's wondering. Can he really call Bella a friend? He only just met her, and yet something in him knows this relationship could be so much more than friendship, if he's reading the signals from her correctly. Regardless, he aims to help her. If something more happens between them, it will only sweeten things.

So is Bella his friend? For the moment, he supposes so. Until he decides whether he wants to pursue a deeper relationship.

"You want to tell me about this 'friend'?" Emmett says, making exaggerated air quotes around the word. "How come I haven't heard about them before?"

"It's Rosalie," Edward deadpans, not missing a beat. "I thought some customer service experience might improve her attitude."

Jasper's taking a drink, and he snorts beer through his nose. "Ow, fuck!" He grabs for napkins with one hand, pinching his nose with the other. "Warn me before you say shit like that!"

"Not cool, bro. Not cool." Emmett shakes his head. "Just because you like your girls all tame and shit—"

Edward raises an eyebrow. Emmett might be older and considerably bigger than him, but that one glance stops him mid-sentence.

Damn right it does. Emmett only knows the very basics about Edward's taste in women and has no business mouthing off about it. Edward, however, knows Emmett's girlfriend very well. Unfortunately. Rosalie Hale is a bitch and a half. Not even their sweet sister Alice can stand her.

Talk drifts toward work—Jasper's in construction and Emmett's very slowly working toward a degree in sports medicine—and after a while, the waitress brings Edward's burger and a paper application.

"Cook would only go medium-rare since it's ground beef," she tells him as she lays the hot plate on top of the application.

"Medium rare is perfect," Edward assures her. He assembles his dinner and takes the first juicy bite as Jasper winds up a story about missing power tools the foreman blamed on some new guy. Working construction is hard in Seattle. They don't get extra pay because the weather's miserable nine months out of the year. Back during their undergrad days Jasper had wanted to be an engineer, but he dropped out soon after the start of his junior year and never went back.

"I swear to god," Jasper says, "they blame everything on the new guy. If your friend gets a job here, Ed, you better make sure she doesn't get the same treatment."

Edward's sat in this place nursing a beer many times, and he's seen plenty of interactions between the management and the staff. He wouldn't send Bella someplace he didn't trust—not on his life. There's a good atmosphere here, and he thinks it might make a reasonable spot to work. Bella isn't outgoing, but she's sweet and pretty enough to make good tips, and this isn't the kind of dive where waitresses are expected to sex themselves up for the clientele. No way would he release the hounds on his pretty little Bella like that. But she needs to be able to work and earn her own money, even though he fully intends to get her the hell out of that crummy apartment as soon as possible. It'll be good for her psyche, if nothing else.

As he talks casually with the guys, part of Edward's mind is elsewhere. He waited until Bella fell asleep before he left her, and he's pretty sure she'll be okay for the night. He's not leaving her in that shithole tomorrow, though. No fucking way. Realistically he knows he ought to just get her a nicer apartment and back the fuck off, but he also knows himself, and he knows how he feels about this girl. He's not gonna be able to back off, even though he should. She's got no self-preservation instincts whatsoever, and so he's pretty sure she's coming home with him tomorrow. He'll be able to help her better that way, he tells himself. It's true, as far as it goes...which isn't far.

His arms ache. God, he wants to hold her again. He hopes she's sleeping well. Part of him wishes he could go check on her before heading home, but he left her key with her and he's not waking her up by pounding on her front door. She needs her sleep after the close call she had tonight. So he resists the urge, but only just. Tomorrow is soon enough, he tells himself firmly. Tomorrow's Saturday, and because he works at a private practice, his weekends are his own. He plans to sleep in a little and then head back to Bella. If all goes well, she won't spend another night under that saggy apartment roof.

After saying goodbye to Jasper and Emmett, Edward hops the bus back toward home. Home for him is a three-bedroom Craftsman in the Queen Anne neighborhood of Seattle, and as he walks up the little flagstone path toward the wide porch, the motion-sensor light clicks on. It gives the dark house a homey feel, and Edward smiles as he unlocks the door and slips inside. He's lucky his parents were able to finance his early years, so he's not living in an apartment like Bella's while trying to pay back the price of his education. Someday he'll do the same for his children—it's no longer feasible to tell someone to lift themselves up by their bootstraps, especially if they need a lot of schooling to achieve their dreams, and Edward doesn't intend to put his kids at a disadvantage, when he's ready to have them.

Right now he's not thinking about kids, though. He's thinking about one delicate young woman asleep across town, and his crooked smile widens as he imagines her here, in his home. He'll give her the guest room, of course, and tell her that she can decorate as she wishes. She needs to learn to take care of herself, like earning her own money. Whatever she needs, he can teach her. Though if she doesn't know how to cook, god help them both. They'll have to make do with his cooking, or get his mother or Alice to teach her.

Tossing his mail on the kitchen counter, he heads upstairs and flicks on the light in the guest room. It's...a guest room. Bland, not much to it. Original hardwood floors and high ceiling—that's good—but the walls are off-white and the tan-and-brown mottled bedding on the carved sleigh bed is...well, boring. Not that he really cares, generally speaking, but this isn't the sort of room Bella will like. He can already tell. She likes pretty colors, and this room is definitely wanting in that area.

Oh well. It just means she'll get to pick out exactly what she wants.

He goes to sleep in his own room that night, anxious for what the morning will bring.

The good thing about working in private practice as opposed to a hospital is no evening or weekend hours, and Edward takes full advantage of his free Saturday morning to sleep in, then sit on the couch in some rare late-fall sunshine and enjoy a cup of coffee while making a list of things to do today.

First and foremost, he has to go get Bella and convince her to leave her shitty apartment behind. He's not sure how he'll accomplish this, but he doesn't doubt that he's capable. That girl hasn't an ounce of self-preservation instinct. Normally a young, pretty thing like her would be wary enough not to go home with a complete stranger, but after last night Edward isn't worried that she'll turn him down. Even through her shock, he knows she felt the same thing he did—the first flickers of attraction, the sense that this meeting could turn out to be very, very good.

Plus, she's desperate. She said so herself—in less than a month she'll be homeless unless she gets a job. Edward's not stupid. Even if she lands a job tomorrow, she won't have enough money to pay rent by the time it's due. Grimacing, he sets his now-lukewarm coffee aside, watching a squirrel skitter across the tiny patch of lawn that passes for his front yard. Poor thing. What would have happened to her if he hadn't come along? Yeah, there are social services meant to help people in her situation, but these things take time to apply for and get accepted. There's no real stop-gap measures, as far as he knows. And though there's no doubt in his mind that her ex-boyfriend, Jacob, is an emotionally abusive fucktard of a human being, there's no evidence—yet—that he hurt her physically. Is abandoning her with nothing bad enough that Bella could get help at a domestic abuse center? Edward honestly doesn't know, and he's skeptical. So many people in the world are in need of help, and there aren't enough resources to go around.

Well, he's going to help this one person.

Decided, he takes a quick shower and dresses in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, slipping a hoodie over his wet hair. Since the sun is out he forgoes a jacket, slipping his wallet in his back pocket and hooking a carabiner with his keys to his belt loop.

On the way to Bella's he stops at Starbucks for more coffee, getting Bella something filled with sugar and chocolate, topped with a mountain of whipped cream. He adds two slices of lemon poppyseed bread to the order, and he's back in his Volvo in less than ten minutes.

The city is beautiful in the late summer sunshine, washed clean by last night's rain. Windows wink and gleam as he drives past, and the trees and lawns are still lush and full and green. Soon enough everything will wither, growing grey and bleak until next spring, but today the city's putting on a rare show. Edward's insides feel just like the blue and yellow air hovering over his city. It's Bella. Bella makes him feel like this—full of hope. He's a young doctor just starting out in his career. He made it through the grueling gauntlet of med school and residency, and now he finally gets to settle down to some gainful employment at reasonable hours. He's well-off financially, not bad looking, and there's a girl occupying his thoughts as he turns into her neighborhood.

Edward doesn't often meet girls the way normal people do. Plenty of women hit on him when he's out, but his tastes are very specific and he's doubtful he'd ever find what he's looking for outside of the Internet. He found his last two girlfriends there—the only two he's had since deciding he doesn't want to waste his time with a regular vanilla relationship when that's not what he really wants.

But Bella's different. He thinks she probably would have caught his eye even if she hadn't been about to walk into traffic last night. Though she's a grown woman, she acts extremely young. It's...a hopeful sign.

When he reaches her apartment complex, he parks amid the cracked blacktop and angles himself out of the car, holding a coffee cup in each hand and pinching the top of the pastry bag between two fingers. He carefully knocks on her door, hoping she's awake. He doesn't want to disturb her, but he just can't wait any longer.

The door opens almost immediately, and big velvet brown eyes widen when they see him. Her pretty pink mouth drops open just a little and she hangs on the side of the door, staring up at him for a long moment.

Jesus Christ, she's pretty. Edward finds himself staring, too. His mouth, already smiling, slants a little wider. "Hi," he says, watching in amusement as two spots of pink appear in her cheeks. "It's Edward. Remember me?"

Her mouth closes and she swallows; he watches the movement in her lovely throat. Gorgeous little girl. "I thought maybe you were a dream," she murmurs as she pulls the door further open and steps aside so he can come in.

"Ah." He steps inside, noting that the apartment looks even worse in daylight. It smells old, too, underneath the sweet fragrance of whatever Bella uses to clean. She's really trying her best with this place.

Well, she won't have to anymore. Not after today.

"Here," Bella says, pulling his pocket watch out of the front pocket of her jeans. She's dressed for the day already, in light-colored jeans that are flattering without being too tight, and a baby blue t-shirt with a cartoon owl on it.

"Trade." Edward offers her the coffee cup containing her mocha concoction, and she takes it carefully before setting the watch in his palm. He watches in amusement as she lowers her nose to the lidded cup and breathes in deeply.

"Mmm..." A warm smile slides over her expressive mouth. "That smells so good!"

"Good." Edward can't help but mirror her smile. She's so goddamned cute. "I can't stomach that much sugar in the morning, but I thought you might like it."

"I do," she says, taking a hesitant sip to test the temperature. Her eyes flutter and she swallows thickly. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"You're very welcome. I was wondering if we could talk for a few minutes?"

"Of course." She smiles up at him and leads the way to the couch. Her blankets are neatly folded once more, and Edward takes a seat on a sagging cushion. "I...didn't quite believe you'd come back, honestly."

"Even though I left this?" Edward holds up the watch. "Here." He hands her the bag with the lemon poppyseed bread. She sets it down on the couch, intent on her coffee.

"That's the one thing I couldn't explain away," she says, licking whipped cream from her upper lip. Edward's mouth waters, and it's not for the sugar. "I mean, you talked about me needing a fairy godmother—godfather, sorry. That's so strange, right?" Her face pinks again. "And you were so sweet. You held me..."

"You needed it." Edward sets his coffee on the old brown carpet, wishing she had a coffee table.

"Yeah. Thank you—for everything. I...thank you doesn't seem like enough."

"It was, and continues to be, my very great pleasure. I assure you."

Her blush is still apparent as she reaches forward, tracing some of the engraving on the pocketwatch. "This is beautiful," she says softly. "It looks valuable. I still don't know why you left it with me. You don't even know me."

"It's more valuable than you think," Edward says, smiling. "It's my great-grandfather's, so there's a great deal of sentimental value. And I left it with you because I trust you."

"But why? You don't know me."

"You didn't know me, either, but you let me come home with you last night. You let me take care of you."

She winces, which Edward also finds cute. "Not the smartest thing, I guess. But...I don't know...there's something..." She looks as if she's searching for the right words. Not finding them, she shrugs. She's not looking at him anymore, staring instead at the pastry bag between them on the couch.

Edward pockets the watch, reaching out with his other hand. His fingertips ghost across her pink cheek, feathering down to reach her chin. Slowly, gentle as a breeze, he lifts. Her eyes meet his—searching, questioning. So beautiful. So honest. "You feel it, too," he murmurs, grazing his thumb along the delicate line of her jaw.

She swallows but doesn't pull away. Her words, when she speaks, are a whisper. "I feel like you could hurt me badly, Edward."

So she is nervous. It's not a bad thing. He cradles her chin in his fingers a little firmer. "I won't." Without words, he knows she's not talking about physical hurt. This is something else—something more profound.

"But you could." She swallows. The fingers gripping her coffee cup are white. "After Jake...I don't even know what's left of me. But you...you're different."

Fuck yes, he is. He's nothing like that fucker. "I could never do what he did," he tells her, and it's the truth. Even if he had a girlfriend who cheated on him with his best friend, he wouldn't leave her with nothing like Jake left Bella.

"I'm scared."

It's the first reasonable response she's had to him since they met. Edward shifts, cupping her cheek in his hand, cradling her face as one would cradle a baby bird fallen from the nest. "I know, and those instincts aren't bad. This is ludicrous, right?"

She nods; he feels it against his palm.

"But you feel something else, too—this feeling—this pull."

Another nod.

"I won't hurt you. I won't. Listen to me, Bella." He lifts his other hand, seeking her. Her warm hand wraps around the back of his, their fingers threading together as if they've always known how to do this. "I feel very...protective...of you. I want to help you. And I swear, my help doesn't come with a price. We can be friends, just friends, if that's all you want—if that's all you can handle right now. I know it hasn't been very long since that asshole left you, and I can tell that you're still hurting. That's okay."

She exhales and turns her head to the side, into his palm. She doesn't kiss him, but her lips are right there against his skin and Edward can feel that touch burn straight through him. "Everything in me wants to ask you why me," she says quietly. Her eyes flick toward him. He's caught and held in that deep velvet gaze. "But if you feel this, too..."

"I do," he assures her. "And that's part of the reason why. But the other part..." Reluctantly he drops his hand from her cheek, but he keeps hold of her hand. "It's just part of who I am," he says with a little shrug. "I like taking care of people. Maybe that's why I became a doctor—not that I see you as a patient, because I don't. But I have this need...this want..." He shakes his head. "I know this is crazy. Believe me, I know. But I want to help you. Please, let me help you. Let me take care of you."

"I don't know what that means." She lowers her gaze to their linked hands, squeezing his gently with her fingers. "Jake always said I needed taking care of because I couldn't do it myself..."

"That's not what I mean." Edward tugs gently on her hand, gaining her attention again. He wishes she wouldn't compare him with that fucker, but he guesses it's sort of reasonable. Doe she have anything else to compare him to? "I don't mean to imply that you're incompetent in any way. But you're in a difficult situation, and there are things I'm willing to bet you never learned how to do because Jacob insisted on doing them. Am I right?"

"Well, he took care of the money and stuff," she says quietly. "He said I was useless for that. I was never great at math—I mean, I got good grades in high school, but—"

"Did you ever go to college?"

She shakes her head.

"Did you want to?"

"Kinda...but there was no money. My mom left when I was really little and then my dad died in a car accident when I was thirteen. He was a cop. His best friend was Jake's dad, and they took me in, but I couldn't ask them to pay for school and Jake wasn't going." She shrugs.

"Oh, baby girl. You've had about enough heartache for an entire lifetime already, haven't you?" He squeezes her hand, wishing he could hold her but not sure she'll accept it right now. It's clear that she and the asshole ex have a long, complicated history, and Edward doesn't need to hear the whole thing yet. It's enough for now to know that Bella's been hurt badly by multiple circumstances and he has to be very, very careful with her. The last thing he wants to do is hurt her more.

Tears shine in her beautiful eyes. She tries to blink them back, but one spills over. "I just...this thing with Jake, and not knowing what to do now..." She sniffles. "I just want to let it go, but I don't know how!"

This time Edward doesn't question his instinct to soothe her. He pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her soft body. She slips her arms around his neck, hugging herself to him, and he can feel the struggle within her—she knows she shouldn't trust him, but she does and she's tired of fighting it.

"Then let it go, sweet girl," he says. "Give it to me for a while. I can't make the hurt go away, but I can help. I promise I can help."

She buries herself in his arms, and he can feel the moment she makes her decision. "Okay," she whispers, her words round and wet as she struggles to bring her tears back under control. "Okay."

She doesn't argue when he tells her to pack up her clothes and toiletries. She has no luggage, not even a duffel bag, but the apartment manager gives Edward a few boxes when he asks, and it's enough to hold most of her worldly possessions. Everything else is worthless, and Edward leaves it in the shitty apartment. Bella won't get her deposit back—or, rather, Jacob won't. That thought gives Edward a little satisfaction.

More comes when he sees Bella close the trunk of his Volvo, chewing nervously on her lower lip. Gently he tugs her lip free of her teeth, trading a reassuring smile for her anxious look. "Everything will be okay," he promises her. "Fairy godfather, remember?"

She nods and he taps her nose, making her smile. "What now?"

"Now," he says, "we go home." Man, he gets a lot of satisfaction saying that.

But they don't end up going straight back to Edward's house. They stop for groceries since Edward doesn't have much at home.

"I hope you'll excuse the way I eat," he says, eyeing the shelves of Lean Cuisine in the frozen food aisle. "I never really learned how to cook."

"I can cook," Bella offers, a little shyly. "I actually really like it."

"Oh, excellent!" Edward shuts the freezer door. "I'll follow your lead, then. Do you want the cart, or shall I?"

Bella turns red. "I don't—I mean, Jake didn't really leave me any money and—"

"Hey, don't worry about that." Edward catches her hand and holds it in his, loving the way her delicate little fingers curl around his. "I'm going to teach you how to budget, yes, but I don't expect you to pay for anything. Certainly not right now, anyway. So just relax."

"I still want to contribute," she whispers.

"Are you kidding? You're saving me from those disgusting boxed dinners. That's going above and beyond!"

"Really?" She looks skeptical.

"I swear. My mom's a great cook but I didn't inherit her skill, unfortunately. And when I was in residency I didn't have time to even try. Some home cooking would be a huge treat."

Bella's lower lip disappears into her mouth again. It's an adorable little nervous habit, and Edward lets her be for a few moments, giving her the time she needs to process his words.

"Let me take care of you," he says, his voice softer, though there's only one other person in the aisle, way down at the other end. "You're not trapped, or beholden. Please. I want to do this."

With a deep breath, Bella raises her eyes to his again. "Okay," she says. "In that case, we should do this right."

"There's a right way to grocery shop?" Edward smiles as, conflict over, he follows her down the aisle.

"Of course there is. Didn't your mom teach you?" Bella turns her head and smiles at him, and the expression makes her eyes sparkle. Edward feels an ache begin deep in his chest. This thing between them is growing fast. He can't explain in words how it makes him feel, and maybe that's the point. Maybe it goes beyond what he can describe even to himself. He pushes the cart dutifully, following the sway of her long, silky hair as she leads him to the produce section. "First, you decide what you want to cook. How many meals?" She stops and looks at him expectantly.

"Um...I don't know. I usually buy a week's worth of those godawful dinners at a time."

"Why do you eat them if you don't like them?"

"Because everything else that's ready to eat is way worse for me. All that fat and sugar and sodium." He wrinkles his nose. "I am still a doctor, even though I can't cook."

"So you want a week's worth of healthy food?" Bella stares at a display of purple cabbage, her weight on one leg, tapping her lips with a finger as she thinks.

"Healthy-ish," Edward amends, smiling. She's attacking this problem of groceries with ferocious solemnity. He loves it. "I mean, I wouldn't say no to some good old-fashioned pasta or anything."

Her eyes flick to the side, appraising him. "Do you like lasagna?" she asks, a little hesitant. "I can make it full of veggies."

"Bella, I would gladly die for some homemade lasagna. You have no idea." His mouth is watering just thinking about it.

"Are you sure?" She bites her lip again. "Jake didn't like it. He said—"

Edward stops her with a finger against her mouth. "I don't give a flying fuck what Jacob said. What do we need for lasagna?"

She gains confidence as they pick their way through the store. Edward has never shopped for real food before and it's an even better experience having Bella with him. She moves with barely-contained exuberance through the aisles, picking up things for their meals. The produce section is where she spends the most time, but she also buys fresh chicken breasts and salmon fillets, ground meat for the lasagna, several different kinds of cheese, and bags of stuff from the baking aisle.

"What's that for?" he asks as she lifts a bag of flour.

"Bread." She carefully rearranges the items in the grocery cart so the flour doesn't smash anything.

"Actually, I don't have a bread machine." He's full of regret, wishing he didn't have to douse her enthusiasm. "We can get one," he adds swiftly. "But I don't have one right now."

She stares up at him. "A bread machine? Why would I need a bread machine?"

"Um...to make bread?"

A delighted smile breaks across her face, and the cutest giggles drop from her mouth. "I don't need a bread machine to make bread!"

"You don't?"

"No...silly fairy godfather." Her cheeks turn pink again, but she's still smiling.

In another aisle, Edward watches as she looks longingly at brightly-colored packages of crackers and cookies. He can't quite tell what it is she wants.

"Edward..." Her voice is so hesitant.

"What is it, baby girl?" He's standing behind her and he leans down, resting his chin on her shoulder. She giggles, skittering away from the tickling touch. "What do you want?" he asks again, nodding to the shelves.

Her smile shifts; she looks embarrassed. "Teddy Grahams," she whispers. Her eyes drop to the floor. "It's silly, I know."

She's making to turn and walk away from the display when Edward catches her hand. "Which flavor?"

"Really?"

"Really." He snags a box she points to and drops it in the cart. It's becoming clearer and clearer to him that he has to let little Miss Bella in on his secret...and soon. It's ridiculous having her embarrassed to admit a juvenile desire to him. He bets Jacob made fun of her for wanting teddy-bear shaped graham crackers or panties with hearts on them, but he's no Jacob. He's a million times better for her than that asshole.

Now if he can just make Bella see it.