Chapter Seven
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Bella was washing dishes when Edward came through the front door. "Luuucy, I'm hooome," he called.
She chuckled. Edward had discovered a fondness for I Love Lucy since buying a DVD of the show from a street vendor. Every evening, on his way home from the docks, he would stop and buy a movie or episodes of television shows for them to watch, snuggled on the sofa, after dinner. He almost always selected comedies; the one time they'd watched a tragic drama, he'd been sad for days, even though he knew it was fictional.
They had been in this apartment for over a month now and had settled into a comfortable routine. Every morning, Edward left for his new job on the docks, a job he'd gotten because Bella was still determined to rescue the others in the facility, and they needed a reliable boat captain to provide transportation. Edward had decided the only way to know for sure was to work with them. He liked working. Even the blisters he'd had on his hands the first day didn't dampen his enthusiasm. His co-workers were astonished by his indefatigable strength and cheerful willingness to pitch in wherever needed.
She dropped the plate she'd been washing back into the water and dried her hands before going into the living room to give him a kiss. He was still wearing his coat, which was odd, because he usually took it off as soon as he got through the door, hating how it constricted his wings. She heard something and tilted her head. There it was again.
"Edward, why is your coat whining?"
"Well, that's something I wanted to talk to you about." He unzipped it and into his hand plopped a puppy, an ugly, bedraggled little thing with matted black fur. It wagged its tail hopefully.
"Where did you get a puppy?" Bella asked. "Why did you get a puppy?"
"I found him," Edward explained. "He was under a car in front of the apartment building."
"You should put him back," Bella said. "What if he just wandered away from his home?"
Edward shook his head. "I can't put him back. The car is gone now."
"I don't think we're allowed to have a dog in the apartmen," Bella pointed out.
"Not according to our rental agreement, but I gave the manager a thousand dollars for a deposit and he said we could."
"A thousand dollars?" Bella sat down on the sofa. "Jesus Christ, Edward!"
"We'll get it back when we move," Edward said.
"The hell we will," Bella said. "I'll bet you didn't even ask for a receipt."
"Well, no," Edward admitted. "But we have no reason to believe the manager is a dishonest person."
Bella buried her face in her hands. She had to be patient, she reminded herself. Edward simply didn't understand. It was like the time he'd given half his paycheck to a homeless man they passed on the street. "Edward, we can't take care of a puppy. We could have to leave suddenly at any time and he would be abandoned."
Edward nodded. "I discussed that with him."
"The manager?"
"No, the dog."
Bella blinked. "You talked to the dog about us having to leave suddenly?"
"Yes, and he says he understands. He's lonely and wants a family for as long as he can have one. I told him that you would have to approve when I found him."
"The dog talks?"
"Well, to me anyway."
"Does he speak Spanish?"
"No, Bella," Edward said, as if it were a bizarre question. "He speaks dog."
"Oh."
"He promises not to pee on the rug if we'll make him a box with newspaper in it, and he'll warn us of any intruders."
"Does he have a name?"
Edward shook his head. "He says the human who abandoned him just called him 'the runt'."
Bella sighed. "I suppose we have ourselves a dog, then."
Edward was delighted. He kissed her and said, "Thank you. You won't regret this."
She was already regretting it, picturing chewed-up shoes and taking the puppy outside in the cold.
Edward shook his head. "You won't have to do that. He'll use the box during the day, and I'll take him out at night. We'll get him some toys to chew. I'll go get the supplies right now!" Edward practically skipped out the door in excitement.
The puppy looked at Bella expectantly. "I'm sorry. I'm not an angel, and I don't speak Dogeese," Bella said. She picked up the puppy, which was alarmingly light, nothing but fur and bones. She carried him into the kitchen and put him on the floor to scamper around on the linoleum until she finished the dishes, using her power to dry the plates with a hand towel.
She ran a new sink full of water and plunked him into it, washing him with dish soap; she doubted if Edward would think of flea-and-tick shampoo. After the puppy was clean, she ran a comb through his hair as gently as she could, cutting out some of the worst of the snarls, and wrapped him in a towel. He fell asleep in her arms and Bella smiled down at him. He was a cute little thing now that he was clean. Maybe having a puppy wouldn't be so bad. She warned herself not to get attached, even as she acknowledged that it was impossible to avoid it.
Edward returned with half of the pet store. Not only had he remembered the shampoo, he'd bought three brands. She groaned at the mound of stuff. She knew better than to allow him to shop unaccompanied.
"I know, I went a little overboard," he confessed. "But I wanted him to have everything he needed. We might be the only family he ever has and who knows how long we'll be here? I want for him to have some good memories of his puppy-hood."
Bella sighed. "I know, Edward, but we have to be careful with our money." He only made the equivalent of about $800 per month, working at the docks, and they had the steep rent and utilities to pay, and now they needed to take a puppy to the vet for all his shots and to get him fixed. Edward winced when this last thought went through her head.
Edward fed and played with the puppy while Bella made dinner. He was interested in the process of cooking, but was easily distracted, so when Edward was in the kitchen, things got burned or boiled over. Bella generally shooed him away to do something else while she cooked, even though she'd always disliked the chore. She could only make very simple dishes like the spaghetti she had cooked tonight, but Edward claimed to find her cooking delicious. He certainly ate enough of it to make it believable and make her wonder if angels could get fat.
She turned off the last burner and carried the pot to the table. Edward put the puppy in his basket, where he promptly fell asleep, content with being warm and having a full belly for the first time in his short life.
Edward prayed aloud, thanking God for the food, something he had picked up from one of the movies they'd watched, and then dug into the heap he'd piled onto his plate. Bella nibbled. She hadn't had much of an appetite since Jasper had gone "missing" a week ago. It had been on the news, prominent architect with a terrorist sister suddenly gone, possibly a terrorist himself now. Bella had shook her head in bewilderment over that last part, as though terrorist sympathies were contagious or something. (She had also been indignant when the media speculated Jasper's buildings might be unsafe and should be checked for hidden, intentional faults which would cause collapse.) It had brought Bella back into the media spotlight, so she hadn't left the apartment in a week. Even with her short, red hair and big sunglasses, someone might recognize her.
Edward did the dishes after dinner and took the puppy outside for a short walk. Bella sat on the sofa, staring into space. She had a pile of English paperbacks by her chair that Edward had found for her at a secondhand store, including some of the classics she loved, but she didn't feel like reading. She looked at the silent television and briefly considered turning it on, just so she'd have an excuse to sit there, staring. Not that it would fool Edward. He knew every thought that went through her head, though he had learned to refrain from his unnerving habit of replying to them as if she had spoken.
But if he'd heard the thoughts she'd had today, he'd given no indication. He was probably waiting for her to make the first move.
He'd been as good as his word. After the time he'd touched her over her clothing, he hadn't pressured her to do anything sexual, though they'd had a few long make-out sessions on the sofa that she couldn't remember which of them had initiated. He really did seem to be content simply with her company if that was all she was willing to offer.
It made her feel safe in a way she'd never felt with another male. Relationships had always been very difficult for Bella. She couldn't share her secrets with anyone for fear of their reaction and so she was incapable of true emotional intimacy, and for her, that ruled out physical intimacy as well. Edward knew everything there was to know about her and still loved her. He'd made it clear he wanted a sexual relationship but was willing to wait until she felt ready to take that step, to wait forever if he had to.
Was he simply better than a human male with his preternatural patience and truly unconditional love for her? Did it come from being an angel or was it from being Edward? Whenever she tried to examine and define her feelings for him, she couldn't help but wonder if those feelings were for what he was versus who he was. But what if they were one and the same?
If Edward were human, would he be different? Certainly, he wouldn't have the enthusiasm for even the most mundane experiences of living that she found so endearing, and he wouldn't have his encyclopedic knowledge of her life, her hopes and her fears and the quirks of her personality. Would he be as fun-loving, suddenly inviting her to go in and jump on the bed, or build a pillow fort from the sofa cushions and lob rolled-up socks at one another? Surely, he wouldn't be as trusting. Humans learned cynicism at an early age or they became victims.
She thought suddenly of that homeless man to whom Edward had given so much money. She had walked by the human-shaped lump beside the street without a second thought, but Edward had crouched down and spoken to him. The man had been intoxicated on top of being mentally ill, filthy and dangerous-looking, the type of person Bella would have crossed the street to avoid. But not Edward. He had spoken a few soft words and the man looked up at him in wonderment. "Ángel," the man had whispered, rising to kneel in front of Edward and then tentatively touched one of his wings. Edward had said something else to him and stuffed the cash in his pocket. The man had nodded vehemently and hastened down the street to do Edward's bidding. Bella had said nothing about the incident, ashamed as she was of her own callousness and repulsion.
She had wondered later, as she wondered now, if Edward's compassion would still be as strong if he'd been human, or would it have been slowly numbed from him to the point where his eyes slid over humanity's refuse without even acknowledging their existence? She had also wondered how the man had known what Edward was. Were the ancient philosophers right that madness granted a certain spiritual clarity?
The most important question of all of this was: would Edward love her if he wasn't her angel? Bella knew she wasn't easy to love. She was guarded and quiet. Her looks and personality weren't anything to write home about, either. She had a list of insecurities far longer than the list of her positive traits, that was for sure. Edward had said that he had always loved her as an angel loves their human, but falling in love with her had been something different, something special. She supposed it all boiled down to whether she believed him. She knew he wouldn't lie about such a thing, but he might not know any better.
And, were any of her feelings created from the special bond? Of course she would be attracted to him. He had designed his appearance specifically to attract her, even changing the actor's eyes from blue to green because she thought green was prettier. Would her heart still pound when he gave her that sexy, hooded look if he wasn't so handsome?
What if she was only considering sleeping with him because he was safe? A man who would never leave her, never break her heart. It simply wasn't in Edward's nature to use someone, and he didn't have a shred of unkindness in him. To have sex with him just because she knew he couldn't hurt her was using him in the way she'd always feared being used.
She was so confused. She wished her mother was still alive, or her father. Both of them were pragmatic and sensible people who would have been able to sort out her feeling with just a couple of well-placed questions. But Renee had died of cancer nearly four years ago and her father, Charlie, had died of a heart attack (in reality, a broken heart) less than six months later. She wished she could call Jasper. He was just as befuddled when it came to love as she was, but it would be nice to have someone else's input.
Edward had to know what she was thinking, but he'd apparently decided to let her work it out for herself. But Bella didn't seem to be coming any closer to an answer. Her thoughts seemed to revolve on a well-worn track, repeating again and again without her getting any closer to coming to a conclusion.
Edward re-entered the apartment and put the puppy into his basket where he immediately settled back into sleep. He came over to the sofa and crouched down in front of Bella, his eyes soft, a sweet little smile playing around his lips. "You're right that I've left it for you to work out yourself. I had hoped you would come to an understanding of sorts when you examined all of your feelings, but you do seem to be a bit stuck. I'll simplify it for you: I love you, and you love me. It doesn't matter where it originated or if we'd feel the same way in different circumstances. We have only this life to contend with, so don't muddy the waters by trying to guess what your feelings would be if everything was different. What matters is that we love one another now, here, in this life, in this moment."
"Edward," she whispered, and he kissed her, long, slow and sweet before rising to his feet and holding out his hand to her. She looked at it for a moment and knew that if she took it, she was accepting more than just his assistance in rising to her feet. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, jumping and trusting that he would catch her before she fell.
Bella took a deep breath and jumped.
He led her into the bedroom, which was lit only by the light coming through the ajar door to the living room and the whimsical nightlight, shaped like a star, that Edward had given her last week. (He was always bringing her little presents like that, things he encountered during his day which made him think of her.)
She was a little nervous, but she supposed that was normal when trying something new, something that made up such an important part of life. Her heart pounded as he stepped closer to her, his hands lightly landing on her shoulders before caressing down her arms and lifting her hands up to kiss them. "We can stop at any time," he reminded her.
Bella nodded, her breath a little unsteady. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now. Strip, maybe? She took her hands from his and brought them to the top button of her blouse. He covered them with his own, stopping her. "I want to do that. Relax, Bella. You don't have to do anything but enjoy."
He led her over to the bed and plumped up the pillows, another thing he was constantly buying as if trying to make up for their uncomfortable little bed by making sure their heads were pampered. And there, he kissed her, simply kissing her for a long while, until Bella had relaxed, forgetting everything but his mouth on hers and the sensations it evoked. His lips left hers and slid down her throat, working their way to the little hollow between her collar bones, and then down to the small vee of bare skin above the buttons of her shirt. She didn't even notice that he unbuttoned it, slowly, kissing every bit of skin he uncovered as he went.
"Mmm. You smell so good," he said, and she wondered why because she wore no perfume, and they used the same simple bar soap.
He chuckled. "You're over-thinking again, Bella."
"Sorry. I can't help it."
"I know you can't. That's one of the things that makes you the person you are. The person I love." He pushed apart the sides of her shirt and started on the skin above the cups of her bra while unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them off her legs so smoothly that she didn't even notice they were gone until his hands were caressing her bare thighs. She shivered from the sensation and he smiled, kissing her bare stomach. A bit of embarrassment caused her to mentally cringe as she thought about her exposed body. He was used to seeing angels in all their perfection.
"Your body is perfect because it belongs to you," Edward whispered. "That makes it the most beautiful body I have ever seen. I've dreamt of this, you know?"
"Really," she gasped as his tongue dipped into her navel. "I, um, I didn't think angels ... had those kinds of dreams."
"I never dreamed until I came down here," he said. "So I suppose you are partially correct." He reached behind her and deftly unhooked her bra. She looked at him with an arched brow. "I've been practicing," he said.
"With whom?"
His cheekbones flushed. "With no one. I, um, I put your bra on a pillow. I saw in that one movie we watched how difficult it could be and I didn't want to fumble around when it finally came down to the real moment."
Bella laughed and squeezed him. Her adorable angel.
Her underwear followed the bra to the floor and he sucked in a breath. He'd seen her nude many times, of course, because he still insisted on sharing the shower, but never in this context. His eyes were hot as they met hers after traveling over her body and he kissed her with a passion that took her breath away.
He divested himself of his own clothes with an impatience he hadn't shown with hers, ripping his sweater as he pulled it over his head. It caught on his wing and he swore, yanking at it.
"Here," Bella said, reaching up to help him. He settled back into his patient demeanor as she tugged it free. He started up at her neck again, kissing every bit of skin he encountered on his way to her breasts. He latched onto a nipple suddenly and she arched under him with a gasp. He sucked rhythmically, gently squeezing the other nipple in time with his mouth. Bella writhed and wondered if a girl could orgasm just from having her nipples sucked. It certainly seemed possible, and then he added in light caresses of her thighs before moving inward. When he touched her, Bella couldn't hold back the moaning cry that tore from her throat.
He left her breasts and kissed down over her stomach to where his hands had been moments before. He glanced up at her and she trembled. "I've wanted to taste you for so long," he whispered.
Lightning. Jesus Christ, his tongue was made of lightning. Bella stuffed her fist against her mouth to hold back her cries. If she didn't, the neighbors would probably call the cops, certain that someone screaming so much must be in mortal peril. An orgasm tore through her and she fell silent, unable to breathe or think or make a sound because every circuit was currently shorted out from pleasure. Edward grinned at her and started all over again.
She lost all sense of time, so she had no idea how long he pleasured her before finally sliding up to cover her body with his own. "Bella?" he whispered and it took a few bleary moments before she realized that was her name. She blinked a few times to focus her eyes. "This may hurt a little. I'm sorry."
She nodded.
She felt an insistent pressure which became a stinging burn. She hissed in a breath. All the romance novels she'd read assured her it was just a little bit of discomfort and then on to another orgasm but this hurt and it would hurt even more if Edward wasn't taking half the pain.
He froze. "I can't. I'm hurting you."
Tears leaked from Bella's eyes. "Go on. I want to get this part over with."
He gritted his teeth and pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck, pushing forward until he was fully seated. Bela waited. The pain was supposed to go away now.
It didn't. He moved cautiously, and they both hissed. Bella clenched her eyes shut. "Go on."
"I can't," he said again and pulled out of her. Bella winced and then burst into tears, feeling like a failure. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Oh, Bella, sweetheart, don't be sorry," he said. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault."
What if there was something wrong with her and she was never able to do this? What if-
"Stop," Edward commanded. "There is nothing wrong with you." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You need to stop reading those romance novels. Some women have a more difficult time than others."
Figures that she would be one of the more difficult ones. "Can we try again?" she asked.
He smiled at her softly. "Tomorrow, maybe, all right?"
It wasn't all right. She couldn't do the most simple thing in the world. She felt guilty. Before the ... failure, he had given her so much pleasure and she hadn't given him anything. Maybe she could ...
"No," Edward said. "No, Bella, I'm not ... ." He paused, searching for the words and Bella closed her eyes. She'd killed his mood. It made her feel even worse.
"There's nothing I can say to make you feel better, is there?" he said sadly.
She shook her head.
He pulled her into his arms and Bella silently cried until she fell asleep.
Bella woke covered in feathers. Literally. She had apparently pulled one of his wings over her in the night, using it as a blanket. Edward opened his eyes and blinked sleepily at her. "Is it time to get up?"
She glanced at the clock. "No, you have another hour. Go back to sleep."
She rolled from under his wing and sat up, wincing. It was so totally unfair. Why couldn't she have been one of those girls who had a good, or even just okay, first time? Poor Edward hadn't done this in two decades and he'd had to stop right when it was getting to the good part for him.
Edward reached out and traced a heart on her back. "I can't sleep when you're beating yourself up," he said.
"I'll go make breakfast." She stood and collected her clothes from the floor, which she deposited in the hamper. The hamper was empty because Edward loved going to the laundromat, strangely entertained by watching the clothes tumble in the washer and dryer. She took a long t-shirt out of her drawer and shrugged into it, heading to the kitchen.
She nearly tripped over the puppy, who was waiting in the doorway, his little tail wagging eagerly. She picked him up and he wiggled in her hands, licking her face. He probably needed to go outside.
"I've got him," Edward said, emerging from the bedroom dressed in his pajamas: a t-shirt and sweatpants.
"Don't forget shoes," Bella called to him as he headed for the door. He turned and went back to the closet and slid his feet into his sneakers.
She cracked a few eggs into a pan and turned the burner on low. She was reaching up to get the pancake mix from the cupboard when someone knocked at the door. Edward must have forgotten to bring his keys.
She opened it and gasped. Three ghostly figures stood on the other side, two males and a female. She could see them, the color of their skin and clothes, but they were wispy, like a projection on smoke. She could see right through them to the door on the other side of the hall. The man on the right flickered like a TV on the fritz.
Bella stared. Ghosts, she thought. A trio of ghosts.
"Where is Edward?" the man in the center asked.
"W-walking the d-dog," Bella stammered. She stared. She didn't even blink.
"Your eggs are burning," the woman said.
They passed through the door into the apartment, walking right through Bella, who stood frozen in shock. The woman went into the kitchen and turned off the burner, moving the pan to the sink where it hissed on contact with the water droplets in the bottom.
Edward appeared in front of her. "Bella?"
"Ghosts," she whispered.
"No, honey, not ghosts," he said. He gently took her shoulders and guided her inside to sit on the sofa. He put the puppy on the floor and it ran through the ghostly figures, bowing to try to engage them in play.
"What are you doing here?" Edward asked the three ... beings.
"We Fell," the woman said simply.
"Oh, no, no..." Edward whispered, his tone mournful. "Why? Why would you do that?"
"We're here to help with the rescue," the flickering man said, and then winked out of sight. "Sorry, I can't hold the visual yet."
"They're angels?" Bella asked Edward.
"Fallen angels,' Edward said grimly.
"I thought angels only Fell is their humans were ..." She glanced at the two ghostly figures. "... If their people went bad."
Edward shook his head. "We can choose it, choose to come to Earth without permission, but there are few who would be willing to sentence themselves to such an existence."
"You need our help," the woman interjected. "You can't do it with just the two of you."
Bella pictured the ghost army from Lord of the Rings. "Who are you?"
"I'm Jane's angel," the woman said.
"A woman?" She was tall, full figured and blond, a Marilyn Monroe type, wearing a pink sweater and skirt.
She nodded. "Jane needs a mother-figure," she said, her voice sad and wistful. "We become whatever our humans need, whatever would attract them to us."
Bella thought of poor Jane, how bitter and cruel she was at such a young age. Her angel probably would have Fallen from despair anyway.
"And you?" she asked the male she could still see. He was large, built like a linebacker with dark hair cropped short. "I belong to Alice," he said, and she had to look away from the terrible sadness in his eyes.
"And I belong to Esme," said the invisible angel. He winked back into sight, so faint that Bella could barely make out his image.
"Who is that?"
"She was one of the women at the facility," Edward said. "Remember, the woman with caramel-colored hair, the one who always sat alone at mealtimes?"
Bella vaguely recalled her. They had never spoken. In fact, she'd never seen the woman speak to anyone that she could recall.
"We have names now," the female angel said with a hint of pride in her voice. "They are names our humans like. Mine is Rose."
"Emmett," said the large angel.
"Carlisle," offered the angel who had lost his visual form again.
"Give us a few days to rest up and we'll be ready," Rose told Bella and Edward.
"I already went to the facility and scoped out the rotation of soldiers and the security measures," said Carlisle's disembodied voice. "We can come up with a plan of attack knowing what we're facing." It explained why he didn't have the energy to hold a visual image.
"You Fell so your people could be free?" Bella whispered. Tears formed in her eyes. The sacrifice they made was beyond losing the pleasures and comfort of Heaven. Here they would hunger, but be unable to eat; here they would thirst but be unable to drink. Here they would follow their human, but be unable to contact them, unable to give comfort or guidance, a maddening torture for an angel created for that purpose. And here they would remain until the day their human died, but they would not return to Heaven as Edward would with Bella. They would simply fade away to nothingness.
Bella's determination solidified. They had no choice now but to attempt a rescue. Like Jasper, Bella could not allow these three angels' sacrifice to be in vain.
