THESE OUTTAKES WILL NOT BE IN ORDER OF SEQUENCE. It's whatever comes to me at the time.
To my Readers.... thank you for everything. ILY.


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2. Bella's Choice.
Enter Ryan vs. Jasper statistics.

---- NO BETA THIS CHAPTER; PLEASE EXCUSE ANY/ALL ERRORS. ---
-- A/N's At The Bottom. --

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is Twilight or Stephenie Meyer related.

"Well I can carry this so far, and then something must give way.
'Cause searching a lifetime for nothing wouldn't seem fair.
I'm bored by the overdone drama of it all,
and puzzled by the thin antique face there on the wall.
I'm following something that someone said must be there.
...Pull back the reigns, and slow this mother down,
I'm falling off.
The faster you move... I'm closer to the end, and there's a lot, that I haven't done.
...It's so simple when it's all brand new. Somehow it all catches up with you.
Just don't let it slice you up and pass you around..."

Wayne, "Slow Down"

Outtake 2: Bella's Attention

BellaPOV

Tossing my pen on the desk, I scratched my head.

It'd been a long month, full of deadlines and failed attempts at trying to impress my boss. I needed this whole deal to just 'click'. This plan, this project I'd been working on every day for the past four weeks... not only would it wow my authorities, but it could possibly move me up a notch on the company belt.

Sure, I was both the newest and the youngest female working at Leverage Marketing, but that only meant that all eyes are on me, waiting for me to crash and burn. I, however, had larger plans than that. I wanted to succeed, and shock. I had a goal for myself. Work hard, play soft... until you find your place in the business. Then you can play hard, because it's your reward.

I wanted to be on top of my game at all times. I didn't like to fail.

"Knock knock!" a voice called before entering. My partner, Ryan Danvers, strolled inside, wearing his typical GQ suit and bright colored tie, orange today.

"Hey Ry," I grumbled, tossing folders away from the middle of my desk, "what's up?"

"Why, Isabella Swan, you look like you've been run over by an ice cream truck this morning."

"Why, thank you," I hissed, rolling my eyes and sitting back in my chair, "what do you want?"

He dropped down on the corner of my desk and leaned toward me, pulling a piece of white fuzz from the ends of my hair, "...and, after you got ran over by that... heavy... ice cream truck, a flock of chickens must have dove in and flapped their wings all over your hair."

I exhaled, crossing my arms over my chest, "does your assumptions on my appearance have a point?"

He held up his index finger, walking around my chair, "I'm getting there. Now... after the ice cream truck and the flock of chickens.... something must have happened... Ahh, I know... a thunderstorm must have showered you down, because you have little black smudges of mascara beneath your eyes."

I twisted my chair around, half tempted to shove him out the full glass windows behind him, down the eight stories, onto the freshly dried cement sidewalk below. And he wasn't even gay. He just liked to tease me, the dick.

He smirked, looking down at me, "But my point is, I think you need to go out with me tonight. Let's go get a drink."

"I don't need a drink," I hissed at him.

He cleared his throat, "clearly."

Putting my bitchiness to the side, I slouched in my chair and frowned, "I'm sorry I'm snippy. I'm just exhausted, I have a lot of pressure on my shoulders."

"Which is why we need to go and drink."

"Is this some kind of ploy to get in my pants, Ryan?"

He smirked, leaning against the glass and crossing his legs, "I don't know, Bella, are you planning on unbuttoning those pants?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "not likely."

He licked his lips, "Well... that isn't a no."

"But it's not a yes."

"True," he said, walking over and leaning toward me and the chair, "but you didn't say no, either... So... how about it?"

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest.

Ryan grinned, tilting his head to the side, "Come on... I'll stay on my own side of the table, I promise."

"Do I get to bring my can of pepper spray?"

"Whatever gets you to come."

I sighed, thinking for a moment about the odds. Jasper and I weren't together. We were just friends. I knew he liked me, but still... Why couldn't I go and have fun? I needed it.

"Fine," I exhaled, shrugging my shoulders, "I guess a couple of drinks will be okay."

He smirked, standing up tall and sticking his hands in his pocket, "kick ass. I'll go get my shit taken care of, and meet you in the parking garage in fifteen minutes."

"Okay," I twisted around, watching him head toward my office door, "Oh, and Ry, before you go?"

He skidded to a stop and twisted around, piercing me with those damn blue-green eyes of his.

"Don't count your chickens," I warned him. "...You know what I'm saying here."

He rubbed his chin, smiling at me, "Ahh Bella. It looks like you have enough chicken feathers in your hair as it is..."

"Very funny," I called out to him as he walked out, "and it was a feather pillow that caught on my watch while I was sleeping last night! Not real chickens!"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say Bells."

If he wasn't so hot... I'd have strangled him by now.

*&*#!#$^%$^


Coughing, I slammed the shot glass on the table, staring at the few flakes of godl rimming the bottom of it, that wouldn't come out unless I licked it, "what the hell is this again?"

"Goldschlager."

I shuddered, licking my dry lips, "and how many have we had apiece now?"

"Uh... I lost count," he smirked. "Do you want another bottle of water?"

I nodded, "yeah if I'm going to be drinking hard liquor, I need to stay hydrated, or else I won't be coming to work next week, and I'll probably end up in the hospital."

"Can't handle your liquor?"

"It just depends on how much of it people make me consume."

Ryan pulled his tie undone and unfastened the top button of his collared shirt, "no worries. You're with me. I won't let you get dehydrate."

I gave him a sour grim, "Sure you won't."

"I'm serious," he chuckled. "I'm a good guy, Bella. You need to trust men more often."

"Most men haven't given me a good enough reason to trust them."

"Have I given you a reason not to trust me?"

I stared at him for a moment, feeling the alcohol in my head swirl around, "not yet."

"Good. Until I do, you should."

After another shot, I took a moment to study him. Ryan Danvers. He was older than me by about four years. He was tall, around 6'2". Tan. Brooding. Strong cheek bones. Dark eyebrows and long eyelashes. His upper lip and bottom lip were about the same size, the top one having that perfect arch in the middle of it. Perpendicular nose. Blue eyes with a tint of green in them, that were definitely hiding a bit of mystery behind them... something struggling, that made you want to dig it out.

A bit of a crooked smile at times, and where that smile rested, on each side of his face were adorable indents of laugh lines. Chiseled facial hair, just a goatee and a dark shadow where he shaved along his jaw and beneath his nose, always appearing like it was trying to come back in. I knew his body would be sexy beneath his clothes. I'd seen him change his shirt in his office a few times, and he had washboard abs, a light patch of chest hair, and broad shoulders. Everything about him screamed 'tall, dark, handsome, and very dangerous'. He was tough around the edges. He was every girl's 'bad boy fantasy', wrapped up in a puzzle and sitting across the table from me.

"Bella," his low, suave voice said, cutting me out of my daydream.

I snapped my eyes at him, blinking a few times.

All he did was grin back at me, "was it good for you?"

"Pardon me?" I cleared my throat, watching his lips linger on top of his beer bottle.

"Was it good for you?"

"Was what good for me?"

"Eye-fucking me. ...Because, it was good for me, so... I was just wondering if it was as good for you."

I blushed, looking down at the table, "I... um... Sorry, I-I didn't me-"

"Yes you did."

I looked up at him, biting my lip.

He chuckled, "Just admit it. You were thinking it, so just admit it. It's not a crime, being attracted to someone. The crime is not stating that attraction, and watching it go to waste."

"I never s-"

"Sure you did." He licked his lips, and my eyes went straight toward his mouth. I watched as it turned into a smile, his teeth shining bright, "See? Look at what you're staring at."

I brought my hand to my mouth, chewing nervously on my thumbnail, "Okay... Okay fine, so I was looking. Sue me."

He smirked, "Why would I sue? I'd much rather watch you squirm."

"Well," I said, chugging my water, "it's working."

"Like a charm," he winked at me.

*&*#!#$^%$^


Two hours, some odd minutes, countless dances, and enough alcohol to turn me into a waterfloat later, he reached out his hand to me. I was thankful he was there. Work put a lot of stress on me, and this alcohol was really taking it's toll... though it felt good to have that tension release.

Standing unsteadily from the round table, I knocked the chair I was sitting in over, but he caught me by the other wrist, making sure I didn't go down with it. "Sorry," I muttered, clearing my throat.

Ryan pulled me into him, thanking the man behind me that put my chair upright, "it's okay, Bells. Come on, I need you to walk with me. Let me just... grab... your purse... Okay, here. Come on, we're going to walk."

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his waist, "where are we walking to?"

"The back door, where I'm parked."

"I'm parked up front."

"I know this, but you're not driving. We'll come get your car in the morning."

I didn't bother arguing with him. I knew that no one in my stability range would be able to win an argument with anyone. Fifteen minutes later, I was laying on a couch in Ryan's house. I'd never been to his house before, and couldn't remember where anything was, now that I was in it. All I knew was I was wasted, and was thankful I didn't drive home after all.

"How are you feeling?" he chuckled, squatting beside me and handing me a glass of water and two pills.

"What are these?" I croaked, my head swaying from left to right.

"Tylenol. Take them before you go to sleep."

I did as he said, then laid back. "I can go home, just call me a-"

My voice got cut off as my body was lifted from the couch. "W-What are you doing?"

"What kind of a man would I be if I allowed a woman to sleep on my couch?"

"Ryan, really, I feel-" My voice was cut off again, as he plopped me down onto a King Size mattress that I practically sank in.

"Mmm... nice bed..." I cooed. It was comfortable.

He chuckled, brushing my hair out of my eyes, "maybe one day I'll let you really experience it."

I grinned, drunkenly, "...maybe."

It got really quiet, and that was when I realized I was dozing off. I noticed Ryan, now dressed in some sweat pants and no shirt, heading toward his bedroom door.

"Wait," I whispered, curling up on my side and reaching my hand out to him, "...don't go."

He steadied himself in the doorway, peering over his shoulder, "everything's okay, Bella."

"No," I shook my head, shivering, as the darkness of the room started to overwhelm me. My voice started to crack under the pressure, "I... h-hate being in the dark by myself.... Please?"

Exhaling heavily, he cleared his throat and walked back over to me. A dim light was flipped off on the nightstand beside me, and he slid me over toward the middle of the bed, climbing in beside me. Instantly, I curled into him, pressing my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I whispered weakly, feeling the room sway around. "I'm scared... of the dark. Of everything. That's, uh, why I live with my sister."

"Maybe you watch too many scary movies?" he whispered suggestively, pushing his arm beneath my neck and curling me into his side.

"No," I shivered, shaking my head quickly. Drunken word vomit... that was about to come out. "...But one time, a demon from one of those scary movies became a reality... and..." I felt my throat tightening, but forced myself to stay strong when I said, "...I've been afraid ever since."

*&*#!#$^%$^


I woke up to the disgusting smell of bacon and eggs cooking, and felt my stomach do a couple rolls in protest. Nothing was worse than the smell of food during a hangover. And I had the motherload of them all that moment.

Moaning, I curled up into fetal position, wishing the room would stop spinning, the floor would stop rocking, my head would stop throbbing, my chest would quit sinking inward, my stomach would stop flipping, and my nose and ears would plug up from everything in the outside world.

"Good morning sunshine," Ryan said, swinging through the bedroom, allowing more of the essence that is bacon smell fill the room.

I gagged, throwing his covers over my head, "shut the door, quick."

He laughed, doing as I asked, and sitting a glass and some Tylenol next to my head, before pulling the covers off, "Why, Isabella, how are you feeling?"

"Ryan," I whimpered, begging, "please don't make fun of me. I really... I can't..."

I felt my stomach flip one more time, and knew I had about a fifteen seconds to get up. I shot out of the bed, and as soon as he saw my face, he grabbed my hand and helped run me to his bathroom, thankfully adjacent to the bed. He flipped the lid open and didn't have any time before the first portion of my stomach was now entering the bowl. I was beyond humiliated, of course, but at the time, I just wanted relief.

Once my stomach caved in for the moment, I slipped to the floor and placed my cheek on the cool tile, "this... sucks."

"Remind me to go easy on you with the Goldschlager next time," he mused, rubbing my back.

"There won't be a next time. I'm never drinking again."

"Oh, that's what we all say. I give you a week."

I shook my head, wining to the side of the Porcelain God, "will you please check my cell phone and let me know if my sister's called the police, looking for me yet?"

"She hasn't."

"How do yo-"

"She called my phone when she couldn't get ahold of you. I told her you were staying over. She seemed quite satisfied, stating that she'd rather it be me if it wasn't going to be Jasper, than any other random 'shmuck sleeze'."

I groaned, wiping sweat away from my clammy forehead, "this is not how I imagined spending the night over at your house."

"I have no doubts. I bet you imagined you and me, sexing it up in a steamy shower."

I furrowed my brows in embarrassment, starting to question him, but he filled me in.

"You told me. Last night. And I quote, "Ry... I know I'm drunk, but I just HAVE to tell you now because I probably won't remember I told you tomorrow... If we go to your house later, you're probably going to get laid... In the shower, because that's where I think about you lately when I'm by mys-'."

I cut him off, by sitting up and throwing up some more. When I was finished that time, I flushed and climbed to my knees, swaying from side to side, "Ignore whatever I told you last night. I didn't mean any of it."

"Ohhhh, I'm sure you meant some of it."

"Absolutely none."

"Come on," he lifted me off the ground, "let's get you back in bed. I'll call your sister and inform her that I haven't murdered you yet, and you will be camping out here until you get your sea legs back... which, by the looks of you, may take the rest of the night."

Two seconds after he put me back on the bed, I was out.

*&*#!#$^%$^


The next time I woke up, I felt like a new person. My body was a little stiff from the lack of movement, but everything else seemed to be sitting in one place, which was a damn good sign. I caught a short glimpse of the clock on Ryan's nightstand. It read four twenty-three in the morning.

I sighed, rolling over, and into the body of Ryan. I jumped back, for some reason, not expecting him to be there.

He opened his eyes, blinking at me, and whispered, "Feeling better?"

I nodded, "Much... I can't believe you let me sleep all day."

"Two days."

"Hmm?"

"You came here Friday night, got sick Saturday morning, slept all day Saturday, all day Sunday, and now... it's... technically, Monday morning."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"No... you were in and out for a while. I managed to get you in the shower, but don't worry, I didn't cop a feel or anything. Barely even looked. Just got the puke smell off of you and put you in some of my clothes. Sheets have been washed too. And thankfully, today is a holiday so we don't have to be at work."

Sighing, I covered my flushed face, "I am... so sorry. I can handle my liquor, I promise. I never really get sick at all, it must have been the kind that I drank... I never had that before."

"It's not a problem. Really."

"I need to brush my teeth," I sat up slowly, not taking any chances, but then realized I felt as good as new.

"I bought you a toothbrush yesterday morning. You used it a lot yesterday, not that I can blame you. It's in a cup full of Zando toothbrush disinfectant, on the right corner of the sink."

I spent an ungodly amount of time in his bathroom. I took another shower, scrubbed down my body, brushed my teeth and tongue until my hand got tired, and matted through my hair with his comb. I was humiliated beyond recognition now, and knew the only way to get out of here was to go through the room and play it off, or jump out of the window. And since I wasn't suicidal, I figured I had to face the music sooner or later.

When I came back into the room, tiptoeing to the bed, he rolled over, stretching his arms, "Feel better? Did you take a long cr-"

"Just took a shower and cleaned up some more."

"Didn't trust me washing you?"

"I felt better doing it a second time."

"Why are you in a towel?" He sat up, turning toward me.

I bit my lip, "I was hoping you could loan me another shirt and pair of boxers?"

He snickered, crawling to his knees, out of the bed, "My God, you sure do require a lot of maintenance, Isabella Swan."

"I'm sorry, I pro-"

"I'm not bitching, relax. Here..." He handed me a crisp, white t-shirt, and a pair of black boxers. I slipped the boxers on under the towel, and the t-shirt on over it, before removing it and tossing it in the corner. He climbed back in bed with me, and pulled me beside him. "Mmm, you smell so much better now. No more puke."

"You're not making me feel any less embarrassed about this."

"Maybe you just need to take your mind off of it."

I looked over at him, and shivered when his hand tucked my hair behind my ear, "...What did you have in mind?"

He smirked, leaning closer, "Well, you just took a shower, so that's out... So... I guess I'm going to have to kiss you now."

I trembled, watching his face come toward mine. Not necessarily because I didn't want for this to happen, because there was a part of me that did. But there was also a part of me that said, 'No, Bella, you're not ready for this yet'. I knew this was a potential hook-up. I knew when I said yes to getting drinks the other night, I'd most likely be in his bed at one point. And it's not because I did this type of thing a lot -- in fact, I never did this. But I'd been attracted to Ryan since the first day I saw him, and would be lying to myself if I had said I didn't want to be here right now.

...Regardless of all of this, he wasn't Edward. No one else was, and it was a cold hard truth I'd be forced to settle with. I knew I needed to get over my ex, it'd been years since the split. But saying is much easier than doing.

Ryan's lips were warm and inviting as he pressed them firmly to mine. He tasted sweet, like Starbursts, and knew how to kiss with the right amount of pressure to make me want more. Sighing, I stroked through his hair, parting my mouth to him. His tongue swept inside, and he leaned over me, moving me on my back. His left arm stayed tucked behind me to support my frame, while his right hand moved down over his shirt that I was wearing, toward the bottom button. Instead of undoing it, he ran his knuckles back and forth on the exposed skin there a few times, then dipped his fingers inside of the shirt, circling my belly button.

I trembled, pushing back into his mouth with vigor. It'd been a while since I'd been touched by a man like this.

And I wanted it.

Our tongues danced slowly and sensually, and I instantly felt my body tightening below the belt. It'd been about two months since I had any type of release, even by myself. I'd been too stressed, too occupied. And his touch, a gentle man's touch, was what I was craving.

I never got this close with Jasper before. He was my friend. Sure, I liked him more than a friend, but did I want him as a boyfriend? As a lover? ...And did I like him more than Ryan? I wasn't sure. Did I like him enough to stop what Ryan and I could potentially be doing? No. Right now... Ryan was at favor.

He pulled back his face and started to pop the buttons loose, one at a time. I bit my lip when he got toward the ones near my breasts.. and he noticed, stopping his hand, "Are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," I nodded with a smile.

"Do you want me to stop?"

I shook my head, whispering, "No."

My heart began to pound in my eyeballs as he pushed the shirt off of my shoulders, and enveloped me with his mouth. I instantly arched my back to him, my fingers find the hair on the nape of his neck. Attention. That's what this was about.

Ryan was giving me attention.

And it was as if it would all make everything better.

The heartbreak

The ache.

The loneliness.

Missing him.

...For just a little while.

He licked down my neck and pushed into me, relaxing on top of my frame. My right leg wrapped around him, but I couldn't move my left one from the position we were in. It was okay.

He kissed my ear.

Make me forget.

My lips.

Please make me forget.

My collar bone.

I don't want to think about him.

My breasts.

It was a long time ago.

My stomach.

It meant nothing.

My hips.

He moved on; I should too.

I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back up, attacking his mouth with mine.

We fell into a hard and rough, heavy breathing make-out session. Then I took charge, rolling us over. I felt him harden beneath me, and though I knew I wanted to have sex with him, I also knew I couldn't. It wasn't fair to Ryan to lead him on when I didn't know what I wanted.

It wasn't fair to Ryan, when I'd have sex with him and think about my ex.

...I always thought about my ex.

So I gave him a blow job for his troubles, let him use his fingers to give me my release, and spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding his bedroom like it suddenly was infected with The Plague. Ryan knew I was stand-offish, and I couldn't blame him for curiosity.

I dodged questions by telling him I still wasn't feeling well, and when all the guilt I had about being with another man washed over me, I grabbed my belongings, called for a taxi, went to pick up my car from the bar, and cried the entire drive home.

I knew I shouldn't feel guilty about doing what I was doing. I had been with men before. I had been in relationships.

But every single time it got to 'sink or swim' time with a man, a struggle of guilt came over me, like I was doing something wrong. Like I was still cheating on Edward, years after the split. I knew it wasn't fair to myself, but for some reason, I just couldn't let it go.

*&*#!#$^%$^


The first week back at work was a bit strange. Ryan and I worked together, and he made it as easy as possible for me. Flirty, as always, but never pushy.

I didn't start anything with him.

I didn't pursue it.

I just did my work, ignored the longing for attention I craved, and went home to an empty house, as Rosalie was most likely hanging out over at our friend Jacob's house again.

But as time went by, the flirting became too much, once again. We kept our 'routine' for weeks upon weeks. We worked together fantastically, and didn't think about sex when it was time for business. Then, occasionally, it'd get the best of us, and we'd make out at work, sneak off to places, have 'lunch specials', as Ryan called it, whenever we met at his house or mine to fool around.

It never got further than third base though. And I never let him reciprocate the favor, though he offered on several occasions.

*&*#!#$^%$^

Months moved on, I started getting closer to Jasper, which was even harder, because I didn't want to lead either of the boys on.

I'd still do my thing with Ryan every once in a while, then I'd come home, to have Jasper give me attention.

Then I'd feel guilty all over again.

It was a never-ending cycle of pain and useless attention that I couldn't figure out how to stop.

Ryan wanted more.

Jasper wanted more.

But I wanted someone else.

I wasn't an idiot.

I was an adult, and knew what I was doing was wrong.

Leading Ryan on for sexual/physical attention.

Then going home, and leading Jasper on for the emotional/sensual attention.

And telling neither of them about the other guy. Jasper knew I worked with Ryan. Ryan knew Jasper was a friend.

There was a reason for that too.

I didn't want to be seen as the bad guy.

I was seen as that enough on my own.

And the funny thing?

Two men at one time still didn't make up one of Edward.

And I could bet that all the other men in this world couldn't make up for him either.

...And that, was the worse part for me...

The part I had to face, though I didn't want to.

The part, in truth, that I'd never get over.

...I'd always miss him.

...I'd always want him.

...I'd always judge myself when it came to him and the guilt I had for my actions, that led to his action, forcing our downfall. I knew it was my fault. I knew what I did forced the end of us.

...I knew I'd never forgive myself.

And I had no idea how to move on.

----AUTHOR'S NOTES----

So there we go, Outtake #2!

--- Though this outtake is short, there really wasn't much to explain. They made out, they connect, they have good chemistry. It still wasn't enough. The reason the outtake of Edward/Aimee was much longer, was because Edward has a complete inner struggle constantly... All he sees is Bella, but he forces himself to move on, move on, don't think, don't breathe, work, work, drink, struggle, just do, do, do, find another muse, so on so forth.
Bella doesn't do that. She ponders for a moment, then completely turns herself numb and goes with the motions until it's time for actual sex, and backs off completely, because she knows she won't be able to handle the consequences of the guilt on her own after. Plus, with the whole James situation out in the open, I'm sure that comes into effect. She has said many times she's only felt safe with Edward.
Bella, unlike Edward, was more 'real' with her troubles of not satisfying herself without Edward. After her breakdown (which WILL come soon!), she's
accepted the facts that she couldn't get over Edward... Which was WHY she kept forcing herself to be with Jasper in the beginning of TEF.

Makes sense now, doesn't it? :D

-- Oh, and this song for the chapter REALLY explains Bella's emotional stand-point at this point in time of her life.

Thoughts? There's plenty more to come, so stick around!! AND REVIEW!!!

Reviews are better than having hot guys take care of you and not get upset when you puke for a couple days! :D