Chapter 3: Strike Two.

"So, what's your favourite colour?" Edward asked as he followed Bella around the little shop, he had been at it all morning. As soon as he entered the shop he had become relentless in asking question after question about her life. Insignificant things like, 'where'd you grow-up?' and 'Did you ever have any pets?' and more important things like, 'How old are you?' to which she replied '22 years old, fresh out of education' with a flirtatious wink and 'When is your birthday?' that got a little giggle out of her before she answered 'September 19th'. He's been filling up his Bella Encyclopaedia and stocking it in his head for later references.

"Er, I'm not sure; I think gre- no blue… or maybe orange." She dithered, unsure if she actually had a favourite colour. Edward was sceptical, certain she was going to say green, but didn't want to mention it, there was a reason after all why she changed her mind. Having asked various questions of little importance, Edward was running out of things to ask, he already knew all her favourite things, her friends anything that he could think of…

"Ask me something…" he blurted out, his face showing his surprise as well as her face showing hers, neither of them expected that with all the time he'd spent with the questions. But Bella knew what she wanted to ask him, she had wanted to ask him as soon as he stepped into the store that morning, exactly at opening, she thought to herself. It had been plaguing her since she saw him. So if he was giving her the go ahead, she was sure he would answer.

"Where did you get that cut from?" she quizzed, hands on her hips, dirty cloth hanging forgotten against her side as she turned on him. But all Edward did was smile. Then wince from the pain of that teeny-tiny cut Lauren managed to give him last night.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was in a fight…" he started, thinking he shouldn't tease when her expression went from curious to slightly appalled, "… with a bear?" he finished, cheekily – Bella thought. Leaning towards her he continued "Oh, yeah, this bear it was huge, stood on its hind legs, cornered me and scratched me."

"You expect me to believe a bear gave you that tiny scratch?" she demanded rather than asked, pretending offense that he would think her so dumb, she's not Jessica. She though of letting him hang himself, trip over his words as he finally processed her offensive demeanour. "No, I mean seriously, a BEAR in Seattle? I'm not that stupid." She turned and stalked away, all of the sudden fed up with his childish game, she wasn't going to play if he wasn't fair.

"No. No, no ,no, Bella. I didn't mean it like that." Edward promised as he followed her into the back kitchen he remembered so fondly, while simultaneously tyring to think of a story that wouldn't emasculate him as much as the truth. He couldn't find one. "If I'm honest, it was a friends ex, she isn't happy with me at the moment and she hit me, several times in fact." He admitted, shamefully.

Bella turned to face him, her anger gone as she searched his face for any deceitfulness, after spending the whole day with him, she could actually tell he was sincere in his pursue of herself, so it wouldn't make any sense to lie about something like this. And seriously, why would a man make up that a woman beat him up, she thought to herself. Edward searched her face while she searched his, breathing a sigh of relief when it looked like she gave up.

"Why is she mad at you, if she is your friends ex?" Bella was sure she was crossing the line in the game they had played, but she couldn't help but feel a little anger towards the woman for damaging his pretty face. Faces like that shouldn't scarred or damaged in any way.

"uh, it's really kind of a long story, I don't really want to get into it." Edward started, watching as her face fell a little, but quickly perked back up as she smiled a dazzling smile and said "so, what is your favourite colour?" and so began the rest of the evening with that little game. And Bella soon found enough information to start her own collection of Edward Encyclopaedia's. She asked him all the questions she asked him and more. Silly little things that she grew embarrassed about as soon as the words left her mouth. "What colour are your socks?" she had asked at one point, making Edward stop still and lift his pant legs up just to check. "Black" he said, although she could see them herself – even if her hands covered half of her face. But Bella felt the need to explain herself, so rather rudely retorted "You can tell a lot about a persons socks, you know?" to which Edward just laughed, and so did Bella when she realised it truly was a ridiculous question.

Before either of them knew it, time had come to close the shop and Edward panicked, realising his time with her was being cut short. He knew he had to think of something, something that would keep her with him for just a bit longer. He could hardly ask her to his for a drink, it would be improper to even entertain the thought… be he did, and he did it with a smile, causing Bella to cast him a strange look.

"Can I walk you home?" he finally settled on, there, that didn't sound too creepy, he thought, rather proudly. He didn't think she'd say no, or that she'd push him out of The Little Sweet shop, and quite frankly, he didn't think she'd tell him to leave her alone, to stop bothering her. So there he stood outside the shop bewildered at her behaviour and a little hurt at the thought of staying away. But he didn't want to risk making her madder, or more upset that what he'd apparently already done. So he turned and walked away, leaving a hidden Bella watching him as a tear rolled down her cheek while she quietly berated herself for freaking out.

Bella, tiredly cleaned up the little shop, closed down all the tills and placed the money in the safe. She hadn't a single thought while she did so, afraid the only thing there would be him. She knew for certain she had scared the poor man away and any chance she'd have with him were lost. But she resolved that she wouldn't feel pity for herself, she wouldn't cry… no use crying over spilt milk, she thought.

Grabbing her coat and hat, she locked up the front door and walked around the corner where she lived. It would have been ridiculous for him to walk her home, she mused, unlocking her front door and making her way up the stairs, turning to greet the old man who always said 'hello' to her. She should really ask him his name; he's a lovely gentleman really. But no time for that she had to get upstairs, her pity party wouldn't stay away, so she headed straight to the freezer and got out a tub of vanilla ice-cream. Wishing she had enough money to at least buy Ben 'n' Jerry's cookie dough for when she had an emotional breakdown.

Bella spent her night crying and eating ice-cream, just like those chick-flick girls she used to laugh at and say that would never be her. She'd be a strong, independent woman and she swore she'd make the man fight for her. How useful her 12 year-old self would be right now.