A/N: Mew!

~Safety~

"What do you think?" Carlisle called, tapping his foot. He wasn't impatient; Edward could take all the time he needed trying on clothes. He was just running through a list of what-ifs in his mind, thinking several steps ahead just in case.

They were at the charity that operated specifically for the purpose of helping people like Edward with good dress clothes. How could they be expected to get a job or keep a job without clean, presentable clothes? But the selection was limited to whatever had been donated. Carlisle was trying to convince Edward that he needed a suit nice enough for non-retail and fast food job interviews. Not that there was anything wrong with either of those fields, but there was also no harm in widening the window of opportunities.

There were a few nice suits that might fit, but if they didn't—and chances were they wouldn't—Carlisle was preparing arguments in his head. Edward hated accepting anything from him, so if he was going to get the man to let him buy him a suit, he'd have to be smooth about it.

"I can't tell what I think," Edward responded through the thin door between them.

"Why don't you come out? Maybe I can help."

There was a moment of quiet before the door opened, and Edward stepped out. Carlisle's breath caught in his throat.

Well, how could he help it? There was something about a man in a suit that did things to him. And Edward was an attractive man to begin with. It was a simple suit—not too fancy—but cut just right.

Carlisle cleared his throat and stepped forward. He adjusted the collar and smoothed out the shoulders. "What you're looking for here is how it hangs on you." He took Edward by the shoulders and positioned him in front of the mirror. "See how it gives you shape and definition? No bagginess. I know it's wrinkled, but you have to imagine what it'll look like pressed."

He hurried to the bag of clothes they'd already decided on and rummaged until he found one of the two ties they'd found. He brought it over and looped it around Edward's neck. "A nice suit looks best with all the trimmings."

Edward smiled as Carlisle tied his tie for him. "You think we should get a cumberbund then?"

"And a boutonniere," Carlisle teased back. He smoothed the tie down and nodded, satisfied with his work. "Now, look."

Edward turned back to the mirror. He cocked his head, and Carlisle wondered at the way he stood up straighter, his normally stooped shoulders squared. For a fraction of a heartbeat, Carlisle caught a glimpse of a different man. Maybe the man Edward was supposed to be at that point in his life—devilishly handsome and aware of his strengths. Self-assured. Ready to take on the world.

Good clothes could do that for a person. In a fit of curiosity, Carlisle had once put on a doctor's coat and looked in the mirror. It had been a good look on him, and for minutes, he could pretend he was the man he'd always wanted to be.

"See, you could walk right onto Wall Street looking like that," Carlisle said.

Edward wrinkled his nose. "Ew. Hard pass." He tugged fitfully at his shirt, twisting a bit. "But maybe an office job. Mail sorter? Data entry?" He made another face. "I could try sales…"

"You could." He patted Edward's back. "Come on. If you're ready to go, we can grab some lunch."

"You know what I'm going to do with my first paycheck?" Edward called as he headed back into the dressing room.

"What's that?"

"I'm going to treat you to lunch."

"With a whole paycheck? I could do some damage with a whole paycheck."

~0~

They'd found another charity that gave resume advice and spruced up Edward's barren resume with his experience at his father's business along with his good grades up until the point he had to drop out. It was all carefully worded. He borrowed Carlisle's computer and researched interview tips like he was studying for a test in school.

It was interesting watching Edward change. The first two interviews didn't pan out, but that didn't seem to faze Edward. Rather, he gained confidence because the interviews went well, even if he didn't ultimately get the position.

"Just getting to practice interviewing is progress," Edward said. "It's not like I didn't try before."

"I know you did," Carlisle assured him. "It's just a matter of time now. You have this."

"I have this."

It took three weeks.

Edward was still nervous about the situation, sure that Carlisle would get sick of him and kick him out. It must have been such an awful feeling. Yes, he was off the streets. Yes, he was warm and clean and he could shower whenever he wanted. But none of it was really his. If Carlisle did kick him out tomorrow, there'd be no way he could continue his job search. He'd have nowhere to put away his nice clothes. They'd worked out a system whereby if Carlisle was working during the day, Edward would take him to work so he'd have a reliable form of transportation any time he got a call.

But, Carlisle was honest in his intentions. As far as he was concerned, as long as he had all those things, Edward was welcome to them.

At the end of the third week, Carlisle got home in the small hours of the morning to find Edward still awake. Not only awake, but with a smile so wide and brilliant it could have lit up the room.

"I got a job."

After a ten-hour shift at the hospital, Carlisle was exhausted. But the news gave him the rush of energy he'd been sorely lacking. "That's fantastic." He moved forward, hugging Edward before he thought about what he was doing.

But Edward hugged him back, his arms thrown around his neck as he laughed. "Fricken Disneyland. Can you believe it?" He stepped back, his eyes shining with happiness. He gave a shrug. "It's part-time, so no benefits. Not a lot of money."

"But it's something."

"It's something," Edward agreed. "Money coming in, and I can still keep looking for something steadier."

"Right. They say it's easier to get a job when you already have one." Carlisle shook his head.

"I've heard that before."

"So what will you be doing?" Carlisle asked, moving toward the kitchen.

Edward followed him, his tone still excited. "Something about guest research. You know, those people who stand at the exits and ask you a few questions?" His grin widened. "Actually, it was a good call putting that data entry stuff on my resume. That's what got their attention for that job because you have to be at least a little proficient with computers. Which...I mean, come on. Who isn't these days?" He shrugged. "But whatever. It worked. I have to wear a uniform, but it could be worse. It's kind of a generic one. Not a cutesy one like the ride operators have to wear."

Carlisle chuckled, buoyed by Edward's enthusiasm. He flipped the coffee maker on. "When do you start?"

"Monday. Speaking of which…" Edward trailed off, and when Carlisle looked up, he saw his brows were furrowed. "Carlisle, it's...really early. Or really late. I'm keeping you awake. I'm sorry."

"You're excited. This is a good thing."

Edward studied him a beat. "Are you okay?"

Carlisle's heart gave a twist. He wasn't okay. It had been a hellish day at the hospital, but he wasn't about to rain on Edward's parade. "I'm fine. I'm just not going to sleep, that's all." He turned and started to rummage through for mugs. "We should go out to celebrate tomorrow. Or tonight, depending on how you look at it."

"Not tonight. Three weeks. When I get my first paycheck."

"Then we'll celebrate your first paycheck."

Edward narrowed his eyes. Carlisle crossed his arms and looked back at him patiently. Edward cracked first. "Fine, but only because there are negotiations to hammer out."

Carlisle quirked an eyebrow. "Negotiations?"

~0~

Carlisle, knowing how much Edward liked seafood, took him to his favorite crab place. He'd done it mostly for his own amusement. It was the kind of place where there were no plates or silverware. Everything ordered came in a bag, swimming in sauce, and detritus—shrimp tails and crab shells—ended up in big, messy piles on the table.

Edward was delightfully horrified. It had been one of the first things Carlisle discovered after Edward was able to take regular showers, shave, and clean his clothes. He was a neat freak. Carlisle had never seen the man get sauce or anything else anywhere other than his mouth when he ate.

Sure enough, the look on Edward's face was priceless. It was a look of wide-eyed horror, as though Carlisle had told him they'd be dining on grubs and maggots. But he only figured it out after the food arrived. He stared at the bag placed in front of him in confusion until he looked around, saw the mess other people were making, and put the pieces together.

"That's barbaric," Edward muttered, staring at his bag as though it would turn into a nicely arranged plate if he just scowled hard enough.

"It's a conundrum, isn't it?" Carlisle said, happily rolling up his sleeves. "You either eat like a savage or you don't get shrimp, crabs, and crawfish slathered in cajun, garlic, and butter sauce." He cracked a crab claw and smiled serenely. "Your choice."

Now that the challenge had been presented to him, Edward looked determined. He rolled up his sleeves, peered into his bag and, oh so gingerly, extracted a shrimp. He started to peel the shrimp, wiping his fingers on the paper towel—there was a whole roll at each table—every few seconds.

Well, best of luck to him. "So," Carlisle said, making a pile of crab shell and a pile of crab meat as he spoke. "You were saying about negotiations?"

Edward's eyes darted between his meal and Carlisle as though he didn't trust the former not to step out of line. "Um, rent. I want to pay rent."

Carlisle sighed. He'd thought they could put this conversation off at least until Edward actually had a dime to his name. "I don't even pay rent. The house is paid for."

"That's not the point and you know it. That room has value. You could rent it out for $400 at least. I looked it up. Just a room in your neighborhood goes for $700 more often than $400. And it's not like you're independently wealthy. It's great you have a house and all, but it's not like you aren't working to support yourself."

Carlisle gave a wry snort. He had enough to support himself and another person. He'd known that when he told Jasper they were leaving. "It's just not necessary, Edward, and it's not all that logical either."

Edward fixed him with a glare. "Paying rent isn't logical?"

"Of course it is if you have to."

"Everyone has to."

"Not everyone has to." Carlisle shook his head. "I'm not going to ask you what your starting salary is, but I can hazard a guess. You're starting off at three days a week with six hour days. I'm going to ballpark your monthly income at $900, and that's being generous.

"With that, if you rent a room, you'll barely have enough to survive. Which is fine, of course. No shame in just surviving, treading water, but you have an opportunity to advance. Don't throw it out the window because of semantics."

Edward had set down his food entirely, and he was staring at the table. "I'm… I'm just so sick of being useless. I can't be a drain. I can't be a worthless waste of space."

"There's nothing about paying rent that makes you more or less valuable as a human being." Carlisle sighed. He knew that the way people had looked at him when he was nothing more than a dirty bum on the street had left a deep wound on Edward's psyche. He hoped the young man wouldn't be working the rest of his life simply to prove he had value. "There's still so much you need to be secure. A car of your own, not because I mind sharing the car with you, but you need the flexibility, especially if you want to go back to school. And speaking of school, you need a laptop, or at least a smartphone or a tablet. Sure, you could get by without these things, but you'll have more opportunities if you have them."

Edward was quiet at that. Carlisle reached across the table and touched his hand briefly. "You know there's no shame in any of this. Building a life from scratch, from nothing, is next to impossible. Being completely self-sufficient takes time and patience. Honestly, I'm not even sure it's possible to be self-sufficient, all on your own, in California without some kind of windfall. I'd never have a house of my own on my salary if it hadn't been left to me, free and clear, by my father."

"I want to do something," Edward said. He sounded so damn miserable about it.

Carlisle nodded. "How about utilities? Once you get paid, you can pay one of the bills."

Edward straightened up. "Half of all the utilities. Except the Internet." His lip twitched. "Until I get a laptop."

Carlisle nodded. "Done," he said, and stretched his hand out to shake, barely containing his smirk as Edward recoiled from his filthy, buttery fingers.

~0~

Life took on a manageable cadence. Every week, Carlisle and Edward would compare their schedules and figure out a plan for the shared resource of Carlisle's car. They shared cooking duties, one of them often preparing lunch for the other depending on who was off.

Edward had grown a remarkable penchant for research. Since he couldn't actually speed up time, he tried to plan ahead as much as possible, trying to know down to the penny what he had to work with. He went as far as to find the figures that went into how much he'd receive in food stamps once he had his new income. He was still eligible—as Carlisle had pointed out, he was barely making enough money to survive—but there'd be a significant cut to the $194 he'd been getting with zero income.

That was okay. Food was a more manageable expense for two single men than it would have been for a family. Edward figured that he could make his lunches off his food stamps. He could still supplement by going to the food banks—again, one of the few benefits of being poor in a place like Orange County—to make them dinner several times a week. Carlisle always had more eggs and oatmeal than he could eat by himself, so breakfast was taken care of.

He continued to supplement what he got by stopping by the food bank several times a month, making dinner for them several times a week off that food.

As promised, when he got his first paycheck, Edward treated Carlisle to dinner at the Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. "Because if I'm not going to get health insurance, I can take advantage of cast member discounts. Thank goodness for Medi-Cal. For now."

For Carlisle, he was just happy watching Edward beam with pride at being able to buy them a meal for once. It was different, Edward said, having money of his own. Money he'd earned. Oh, sure, his father had given him pocket money in exchange for doing a little work at his company, but that wasn't quite the same.

Either way, Edward was relaxed and happy that evening. Things were looking up.

~Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs - Safety~

The second tier of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is safety, including personal security, financial security, health and well-being. To quote wikipedia, who sums it up nicely, "Once a person's physiological needs are relatively satisfied, their safety needs take precedence and dominate behavior."

A/N: Moving on up. :)