A/N: And here it is. Thank you for reviewing or alerting to me/adding this story to their favourites; the latter is almost as good as a review! Still, if you enjoy the story, please take the time to review if you can! I'd love to hear what you think.

Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is property of Stephenie Meyer. I'm only borrowing.

Fourth Chapter…

…where Edward feels cheated

The day had been as pleasant as it could be without Bella.

Edward hadn't been sure about the trip to New York. He'd guessed what Alice had in mind—he knew her too well after all—but to be honest, he needed a few days for himself. He'd never have admitted that to Bella, because then she'd have asked him why and he wouldn't have known how to answer that. He didn't want to lie to her, but the very idea of telling her he was planning on having the 'talk' with Carlisle was preposterous! Men did not talk about that kind of thing with women.

That, Edward told himself, isn't true. Not anymore, anyway. But because change didn't come easily to vampires, Edward found it hard to get used to the idea. More to the point, he didn't want to get used to the idea.

Sometimes I miss how things were when I was human.

He'd do it once Carlisle came home from work later. He'd spent quite some time thinking about how to approach the subject. Surely Carlisle would think him insane—which, of course, was exactly what this was. Edward kept hoping that Bella would change her mind about 'it' (that's what he called it because he couldn't bring himself to even think the word 'honeymoon', let alone the logical follow-up 'sex'), but if he was honest that was like hoping Earth would stop spinning.

"You're making me edgy," Jasper said, suddenly appearing behind Edward, ready to grab him. Edward ducked neatly out of the way; he'd seen him coming.

"I'm not in the mood for wrestling!" he snapped, flopping down on the sofa and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Leave me alone."

Jasper sighed, but didn't press the subject; he knew when to give it a rest. Instead, he positioned himself beside the TV screen Edward was pretending to stare at, a thoughtful look on his face. Edward knew his emotional state had been bothering Jasper all day, but he certainly wasn't about to tell him what had caused his alternating between fear, desperation, anger and apprehension. Jasper would think he'd lost his mind. Edward was only too aware that he'd be right to accuse him of that, but he really didn't want to hear him say it.

"Are you regretting sending her off to New York with Alice and Rose?" Jasper asked eventually, thinking that this was the source of Edward's strange mood.

"No," Edward replied crossly. Emmett was playing a video game and Edward focused on that, watching him kill of dozens of mutilated zombies and ignoring Jasper, who eventually shrugged and gave up. If Edward didn't want to talk, there was no way to make him; he'd learned that a long time ago.

"He's got a point, though," Emmett said eventually, throwing the controller aside after another successful kill. "I'm not sure New York was the best idea Alice has ever had."

Jasper gave a low growl; he didn't like anyone insulting his wife. Privately, Edward knew, he thought Emmett was right. Bella and Rosalie had never been very close, although Rosalie seemed to be getting over the problems she had with Bella, and Alice was doing her best to alienate Bella. It didn't matter that this was temporary; what mattered what that Alice was practically begging for Bella to scratch her eyes out. Although, Edward thought wryly, knowing his sister, Alice probably didn't see it that way. She never did with these things. Edward just hoped he'd get Bella back in one piece in three days—and that he'd manage to get up the nerve to talk to Carlisle before then. He'd already tried yesterday, but when Carlisle had come home Edward, coward that he was, had changed his mind.

Glancing at the display of the DVD recorder, Edward found that Carlisle would be home in half an hour, so he'd better come up with something quickly. 'Bella wants me to kill her' wasn't the way to go, although that was exactly what he thought she was asking of him (of course, when he turned her, he'd be killing her too, but he wouldn't be crushing her to death, small comfort that this was). Didn't she understand how dangerous it could be when he lost control? Not that Edward had much experience in the matter, but he'd heard Emmett and Jasper—and even Carlisle even though he often wished he didn't; he'd once walked in on his parents having sex, but the memory was mercifully dim and, Edward thought rather hopefully, gone in a few more years—often enough to know that control was one of the very first things to go.

Esme's cell phone started ringing, with the tone Alice had set for Carlisle—O Fortuna, the first piece of the Carmina Burana by Carl Orff and not at all fitting for Carlisle (too aggressive, Edward thought, but Esme hadn't bothered to change it again, firstly because she didn't care and secondly because Alice would have changed it right back)—blaring through the living room. Edward made a face; the quality of the cell phone's loudspeaker was very poor and the way they mangled the tune was almost like a personal insult to someone with even the least bit of musical knowledge, not to mention an attack on a vampire's keen sense of hearing.

Esme, having darted down the stairs, scooped it up with a scowl and pressed the acceptance button, cutting off the awful noise. "Sorry," she mouthed before focusing her attention on Carlisle. "Has anything happened?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. Carlisle rarely called her from work.

"Turn on the TV, CNN." Carlisle sounded agitated. Edward had long since decided that he found it quite annoying that mind reading didn't work over the phone, especially in moments like this.

Emmett picked up the remote to change channels, finally making the corpses of the zombies that had littered the screen vanish. Why he didn't use his free time to do something more useful—or adult—was beyond Edward.

"What's the matter?" Esme asked, even more worried now, clutching the cell phone until it cracked alarmingly.

Carlisle didn't answer because Emmett found the right channel just then. The four of them looked at the slim, well-groomed dark-haired woman who was standing in front of what appeared to be a bank, with a microphone in her hand and an appropriately worried expression on her face.

"Two hours ago sixteen armed men in black clothes stormed the Chase Manhattan Bank. So far two shots have been fired. All attempts to make contact have been unsuccessful. S.W.A.T. teams are in place around the bank, but because of the high number of hostages they hesitate to act. The police are clueless as to how many people have been inside the bank when the robbery began, but with help of the footage of the security cameras in front of the bank they have established that there are probably thirty or more hostages. This was filmed by the security cameras outside the bank just before the robbery."

The screen changed as the live feed was replaced with grainy pictures.

"Wait for it," Carlisle said, his voice flat.

They watched as people darted in and out of the bank, the film sped up. Suddenly Emmett froze the picture on the TV screen, pointing at three women just about to enter the bank, barely recognisable because of the low solution. Edward didn't immediately understand what they were looking at, then Esme gasped, and Edward's thoughts caught up with those of his family. A sick feeling spread in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the three grainy figures.

This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening.

Edward barely felt Esme's hand on his shoulder. What did he have to do to keep her safe? He'd just saved her from Victoria and now she'd got caught up in a bank robbery. That wasn't far. That just wasn't fair, and Edward wanted to scream at the TV screen in frustration. He felt cheated. He'd been trying so hard to keep her safe, but it never seemed to be enough. Life is rarely fair, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Edward told it to shut up and forced himself to think.

Two hours later he, Jasper and Emmett boarded a plane to New York. What they hoped to accomplish there none of them knew. But they had to try.

Talking to Carlisle about sex suddenly seemed much less threatening.