Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I do not.

Bella led me into her tiny apartment, looking unsure of herself. As she searched about in the dark for the light switch I starred unabashedly at her ass, knowing she couldn't see and catch me doing it. I didn't even realize I had been following her until she stumbled back into my chest, coming into delicious contact with a suddenly harder part of my body. At the same moment her fingers grazed the switch and the lights came on.

Still pressed to me, she peeked up, over her shoulder at me, and said, "It's…it's small."

"What? It is not!" Indignant, I thoughtlessly thrust forward against her to prove my point.

And then I realized she was talking about the apartment.

Shocked into silence, she starred wide-eyed up at me before she broke out in raucous laughter.

And there goes 3.7% of my pride.

I watched as Bella searched around her apartment, through various purses and bags, through her bathroom cupboards. Every so often a giggle would escape her, no doubt reliving my moment of shame. Annoyed with her hair falling into her face, she grabbed a stray pencil and twirled her hair up with it. I would have asked what she was looking for and if she wanted help, but it was much more fun to watch her. Finally, riffling through the pockets of a coat she triumphantly pulled out a pair of wire framed glasses. She wandered back towards the bathroom and after a minute I followed, just in time to see her throw her contact holder into her bag before pulling on her glasses.

Good lord. Hello naughty librarian.

She noticed me standing behind her, watching her in the mirror in a daze.

"You're totally getting off on this aren't you?"

Unrepentant I grinned back at her. She answered my enthusiasm with a warm little smile.

For the next half hour she flittered about, collecting various items, clothing and family pictures mostly, a few cherished books, judging by their very used condition, while I kept surveillance for when the cops would come. And they would, eventually.

I was sitting on the couch, lost in my task of listening for footsteps or any sign of a detective when a pair of long, jean clad legs stepped in front of me, I looked up to see Bella chewing on her lip shyly, starring down into my eyes as if searching for something, brows furrowed.

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

I don't know why I said it, whether it was a threat, a reassurance or a submission to her will, but I said it and the moment it issued forth from my lips I knew I meant it. I might not kidnap her, but I wasn't about to walk out. She seemed reassured and we made our way out of her apartment. I expected her to be sad or reluctant to leave what had been her home, but she didn't spare a moment's glance behind her as she closed the door, locking it more out of habit than necessity or a sense of possession.

"Can we go to your place? I'm sorry, but I need to sleep. The cops won't know anything about you to know to go looking there, right?"

"Except for a hazy physical description, no, they won't. But I don't have a bed. Just a sofa."

She snickered, "What? No white duvet? No featherbed?"

"Hardy har har, you had fun playing with me didn't you, you harlot?"

I directed her to my house and she turned the air conditioning on in her car. I was reminded that my place has no such thing. She wants to sleep and I have no bed. It's hot as hell and I have no air conditioner. Already her presence in my life was illuminating my shortcomings in my human charade.

We were on the outskirts of Seattle now, winding through darkness and forest until we found my driveway and ventured further into the wilderness. My Seattle dwelling is especially unusual, like a mansion masquerading as a cottage. I possess great wealth but little need, much time and no company. As a result, my house is a strange creation - a converted, centuries old, stone barn, lavish yet rustic. Vines and pane glass windows decorate the outside. Two sprawling floors, the bottom taken up by a large indoor pool and the top housing my apartment, equally rustic as the outside, consisting mainly of polished woods, worn leather furniture and great fireplaces.

I expected her to be nervous, now that we were here and isolated. Instead she turned and offered me an approving grin before she hopped out and grabbed her bag, dashing towards the door as quickly as she could. Smiling I ran out, overcame her and met her at the door where I beckoned her in like any good host. I realized she was the first guest I had ever had here and she had given me her approval before I even knew that I would ask for it.

Her sigh of relief when she saw the pool encouraged a chuckle from me, which caught in my throat when she hastily dropped her bag and stripped down to her underwear before diving in. Exquisite. Her body was slender but toned, long muscles and creamy skin. She had many scars on her body but it didn't detract from her beauty, it merely added another dimension of intrigue. The distortion of the water was no match for my eyesight. The scars on her knees and elbows suggested she was quite prone to accidents, but they were not the ones that caught my attention, instead it was the scars along her lower abdomen and the circular scar on her shoulder, just below her collarbone. I marveled at her lack of insecurity about such marks. I respect her confidence. Even if she weren't beautiful, her sense of self worth would have made her one of the most stunning creatures I had ever laid eyes on.

I kept my distance, a need to cool off that was unlike her own. While she swam I put the money in the safe, retrieved a towel for her and contemplated what else would need to change in order to accommodate Bella's needs. She would need a bed, food, perhaps an air conditioner, considering the heat wave sweeping through the U.S. Would we leave Seattle now? She didn't bring much with her in terms of clothes. Her car sucks.

I wonder if she realizes that she can have anything she wants now?

But she doesn't strike me as the kind to ask, or even want, for any material luxuries. I get the feeling that the things Bella wants most is some excitement and companionship, which is so very like myself. Maybe I am better at being human than I thought.

I watch her emerge from the pool, transfixed by the rivulets of water that cascade down her lithe body. I wonder if women practice the art of this little performance? This way of coming out of water that is so tantalizingly sexy, sleek hair and emphasized breasts, so feminine and strong. It takes me a moment to remember myself and offer her the towel. Her smirk tells me she noticed.

I led her upstairs to my apartment and gave her the grand tour. I could tell by her reactions which rooms were her favorites. Particularly, my extensive library of books, music and movies and a sitting room which housed a couple of instruments, a painter's easel and a wall of mirrors to make the room seem bigger and brighter. My kitchen and 'bedroom' were pathetic places. My favorite room was my entertainment room, complete with a home theater and surround sound and my living room, a cozy room filled with couches and a fireplace. If I remember correctly, one is an uncomfortable pull out couch, lumpy and neglected but suitable for one night.

Finally I showed her to the bathroom so she could change. Besides my kitchen, it was my one other human room. I figured if I ever had visitors, I could get away with not owning a bed temporarily, but not having installed toilets or the bare minimal kitchen utilities would be suspicious. I heard the shower switch on and minutes later my senses were accosted with the smell of wild strawberries.

Fifteen minutes later Bella emerged, vibrant and slightly flushed from her shower, dressed in a short silk night slip, fairly conservative considering the heat but exposing enough flesh that I said a little prayer. I had prepared the pull out to the best of my abilities and Bella seemed pleasantly surprised.

"Don't look so relieved, it's incredibly uncomfortable." I warned.

"Yes, but it will make what I am about to ask much more possible." Bella fidgeted nervously.

I waited patiently for her to work up her nerve for whatever she needed to ask. I knew it wouldn't be sexual, we had come to an agreement in the car that it would make getting to know each other awkward, neither of us desiring a serious relationship.

Finally she extended a hand towards me from the opposite side of the bed; she crawled onto the mattress, reaching for me until I understood. Gradually I kneeled onto the bed and carefully laid myself beside her, starring up at the ceiling like she was, not daring to move or touch her more than our entwined hands unless she initiated it. Even then I would be hesitant.

Softly she spoke, "I grew up in Phoenix. But after I moved to Washington, I never could sleep when I was overheated."

Understanding came. Who needs air conditioning when you have a frigid vampire at your disposal? Chuckling, I scooped her up into my arms and laid her gently against me, slightly on top, the tension broken by comprehension. The way she curled her body around mine spoke of gratitude and affection. I tightened my arms around her, conveying the same message, thankful for her coming into my life at a time when I was floundering in solitude. Within minutes she was asleep, her breathing deep and even and heartbeat steady.

For the first few hours I indulged in the physical presence of my new, precious friend. Her silky legs were curled amongst my own, her cheek pressed to my shoulder and an arm strewn across my waist. Around three o'clock I grew restless but was once again immersed in the novelty of sleep when Bella started to mumble softly. Not many words were decipherable, even with my hearing. I heard the words, 'hot', 'swim', 'hair' and 'handsome'.

An hour later her dreams shifted to something darker. She squirmed against me as if struggling, a hand reaching down to clutch at her lower abdomen and a weak 'Jake don't' escaping her lips. I smoothed a hand down her back only to have my fingers tangle gently in her soft mahogany curls, and found that she quickly calmed down while I played with her hair. I squelched my curiosity on the subject of her nightmares, deciding that if she wanted to talk about it, she would.

As dawn broke through, my boredom returned. I contemplated Bella's desire to remain human, her mysterious past and her future career as a bank robber.

She expressed a desire to attempt a solo robbery, but I was nervous. She is so breakable, so fragile and human. What if she chose a bank that had armed security? I can definitely see an independent streak in her; no doubt she would be stubborn about her choice. I guess I could go in before her and command the security guard to stand completely still so he wouldn't react when she came in. That way there would be less of a risk to her. We could rendezvous somewhere afterwards and – oh, she's waking up. About time, I'm so fucking bored, how am I to -…

"Calvin?"

"Huh?"

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah. Sorry, yeah…"

No. I'm not okay.

I can't believe I almost missed that.

I've been alone with my thoughts for close to a century and still I lose myself in them. I was almost so lost that I just about missed the most beautiful thing I may have ever seen. No one has ever looked at me like that before.

Unbidden my fingers went to the source of my delight; rosy, sweet lips, soft and warm beneath my fingertips. That smile said so much more than good morning. It was a good morning that echoed with 'because you're here'. I must never miss it again.

Suddenly the night didn't seem like such a waste.

I tried to erase the look of awe on my face, seeing her growing uncomfortable under my scrutiny.

She cleared her throat and rolled away from me; restless though I had been I longed for the warmth of her sleeping form beside me once more. Maybe when we become more comfortable together, we could spend a morning lolling about in bed lazily. I guiltily watched her stretch, easing the kinks out of her muscles and vowed to buy her that king sized feather bed once we settled wherever it was she wanted to go. I wondered if she was interested in traveling abroad, if she had studied in any foreign languages. I really need to learn more about this woman. I quickly changed into some cargo shorts and a t-shirt and waited for her by the staircase.

Minutes later she was ready, proving what I already knew, she wasn't high maintenance, she was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, but was once again in a pair of heels. If not for her heels, her clean face and high ponytail would have made her appear alarmingly youthful. I quirked an eyebrow at her strange choice of foot wear in question.

"I learned to walk in them awhile ago as a sort of…tribute to an old friend with a shopping addiction. After sometime you get used to them, "She hesitated for a moment, a small grin forming, "and they're oddly empowering."

I pumped a fist into their air and faking cheerleader enthusiasm and a British accent said, "Girl power!"

Bella giggled and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the apartment and down the stairs to the outside. I promised her breakfast and she had decided on an IHOP.

An hour later we were seated in a booth, a plate piled high with pancakes sitting in front of Bella. Keeping this platonic was going to be a slight challenge. I had already developed some feelings of admiration and protectiveness for Bella, which encouraged keeping a respectful distance. But every time she flexed those legs in her shorts and licked a smudge of whipped cream from the corner of her lip she screamed sex.

I'm almost certain that I have put myself in the selfish position of feeling okay with keeping this on a level of friendship, but if any other man enters the picture, I have no doubts that I would struggle with jealousy. I have always been pretty laid back; I think I could keep it under control…

I discreetly watched her eat, fascinated but hesitant to make her shy about eating in front of me.

"So, what's your favorite food?"

My eyes shot to her in alarm. Was she kidding?

"I don't eat."

"Yes, you do. Come on, what is it? Bear? Cougar? Elk?"

Jesus, she wasn't kidding. I tried to match her nonchalant attitude, but this, this talking openly about what I am, is something I'll have to get used to.

"Wolf."

She froze for a minute, the color leaving her face and swallowed hard. How in the bloody hell could I have answered that question incorrectly?

"Are you alright?" I asked.

She cleared her throat and nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I rarely ever go after them, truly. Most of the time I settle for elk." I waited a moment more, thinking about how I could salvage our first morning, "I'm very careful about monitoring my hunting activities. After all, it's in my best interest to make sure their population doesn't deplete."

"Calvin, don't be sorry, I was just caught off guard."

She shifted in her seat, looking sheepish.

"What's your favorite food?"

Maybe I'd learn how to cook…

We talked through the rest of breakfast, laughing and teasing. She even convinced me to eat a strawberry, though it didn't smell as nice as Bella and it tasted awful. We actually talked a bit more about my diet, isolated in our booth as we were, and the more disgusting flavors I've tried, like fish for example. She laughed at my dramatic retelling. I told her that while she smells fantastic, and she does, it is subtle enough that it doesn't tempt me anymore than anyone else's blood. I had tested my self-control a lot over the decades; in fact, I worked in a hospital for a couple of years. I am not academically inclined, but medicine appealed to me in a sort of morbid way.

I paid the bill, ignoring Bella's protests; in fact I may have playfully put my palm over her face and pushed her away from the waiter at the cashier. As we walked out I reminded her that it wasn't hard earned cash.

On the drive back I was forced to stop and run into the forest to rid my stomach of the small, offensive fruit.

Back at my- our place, we discussed what to do next, settling onto a couch together. I still wanted to show her the private hanger at Sea-Tac. We talked about going to Mount Wai-'ale'ale, London, Crkvica in Bosnia, British Colombia, Newfoundland and every other rainy, foggy, vampire friendly place we could think of. Eventually Bella suggested we pull a Noah's Ark and live on the high seas so I changed the subject.

Bella's things were still packed up so she waited with a book while I grabbed a few of my own personal articles. I had decided where we could go and refused to tell Bella, no matter how much she pleaded. I learned that Bella hates surprises.

I decided to hunt before we left. I made a quick trip into Wenatchee National Forest, but found myself annoyed by my hunger needs and bothered by the silence of the solo hunt. I was quick to take down a small heard of deer and even quicker to run home, where, for once, someone waited for me.

From outside I could hear music. Bella was playing the piano. I recognized the tune as 'Lean on Me'. I had a distinctly female moment where, feeling almost giddy, I interpreted her choice of song as a song meant for her and me specifically. Lame, I know. I rushed to join her on the guitar, but I didn't miss the tortured expression on her face as she played. Of course when she saw me she was quick to put the mask back on, but as we played a few more tunes, her expression became one of genuine contentment. Sometime mid-afternoon we stopped.

"How long have you been playing?" I asked, curious as to her expression.

"A few years. I learned because I thought it would be relaxing."

"Isn't it?"

"No."

"Then why do you still play?"

"So I don't forget."

She remained silent. This woman is the Fort Knox of secrets.

Bella glanced from her piano to my guitar speculatively, "Can you teach me how to play that?"

"Of course."

So I grabbed the guitar and we left the piano behind.