"Edward?" Bella was amazed. It couldn't really be him, could it?

The bronze head lifted, the green eyes glittered with amusement. "Bella. How are you?"

"Ah…fine. You're…going to Seattle?"

His smile widened. "Lucky for me, hey? Wouldn't have missed you and your friend's performance for the world!"

Bella flushed her face an unbroken crimson. "Ah, yeah, Luned's never even seen a plane."

"I gathered as much." His amusement was clear.

"You're not following me?" She asked, trying to keep her voice light, even though her question was genuine.

"No, actually, although that's an intriguing thought. I'm going home for a bit. I'll be back to make that call though." His teeth sparkled white. "Less than one week."

"I…I'm going home too." The memory of another face, so much the same, caused her tongue to stutter and her thoughts to swirl uselessly. "I won't be back for a while."

"Oh." The corners of his mouth turned down slightly. "Well, that would have been…very disappointing. Are you avoiding me, Miss Bella?"

"N…No."

The air hostess chose that moment to intervene, tapping Bella lightly between the shoulder blades. "Excuse me, but we'll be landing soon. You need to take your seat." She said sternly.

Luned slipped past and sat, trying to force the two halves of her seatbelt to connect.

"I…sorry, maybe you can call me another time?"

Edward inclined his head, still watching her carefully. The hostess finally spotted Edward, now that Bella was moving past.

"Sir," she simpered. "I hope you weren't bothered by the drama of these two women." She indicated Bella and Luned.

"Not at all." His grin returned, full force.

* * * * *

"Bells!" Her dad wasn't normally one for such enthusiastic welcomes, but it had easily been a year since they'd last seen each other, and they had grown close when she had lived with him. She had moved in with him again at 17, after tiring of her mother's nomadic lifestyle. It had been difficult at first, adjusting to a much slower, quieter pace than she was used to, but gradually her stoic father relaxed, and she mellowed, and they had found a special sort of father-daughter bond. Even the memory of another Charles Swan couldn't taint that, and Bella hurried forward into her father's open arms.

"Hey, Charlie."

"Can't you go back to calling me Dad? I miss that, you know."

"Twenty-five is too old for that. You'll forever be Charlie now."

He rolled his eyes, but the twitch of his mouth betrayed his amusement. "Who's your friend?"

Bella smiled. "Oops, sorry. Charlie, this is Luned. Luned, My dad, Charlie."

Charlie held out his hand to shake hands, but Luned, well, old habits die hard; she curtseyed, terror in her eyes.

"M…my lord."

Charlie roared with laughter. "Did you tell her I was Chief of Police, Bells? Do they take things that much more seriously in the city?"

Bella snickered quietly as well. "She's not from the city, Dad. Where she is from takes little things like authority very seriously."

"Clearly. Nice to meet you Luned. Come on, let's make a move. I've missed your cooking, Bells."

It was Bella's turn to roll her eyes. "You're asking me to cook on my first night back?"

Charlie looked sheepish. "Well, no…"

"It's fine, Charlie. It wasn't a long flight. I don't feel tired at all." Just shell shocked. Automatically, her gaze swept the airport for any sign of a bronze head, of shining green eyes. She saw none, and all her looking achieved was a deep sense of concern that she was even interested. It seemed the face of her lost love haunted her in entirely unexpected ways; when she had spoken to Edward she had felt shivers down her spine, a mixture of the good and bad type, some as though she were speaking to a ghost, others settling in her belly and thighs, twisting and tickling, as though expectant of the same outcomes as in the past. The very distant past, she thought sternly.

Charlie led the two women to his cruiser, his usual mode of transportation. When Bella was 17, she had been constantly red-faced at having to be seen traveling in her father's car, until he had been generous enough to buy Bella her own (rather run down, but workhorse style) truck, which she had lovingly christened The Thing. The year before she left Forks, The Thing had putted its last, breaking down on the way to La Push and her final goodbye to Jacob.

It seemed like another lifetime altogether now.

Luned sat silently in the back seat on the long trip home, the shock of flying proving too much for her thoroughly medieval mind. She fell asleep, resting her head on the window, an hour and a half from Forks.

"How's life in the big city, Bells?" Charlie asked softly, trying not to disturb the tired passenger.

"Fine." The lie hung in the air between them.

They continued on in silence until the outskirts of Forks, when Charlie began flicking intermittent glances into the rearview mirror. He was on his sixth before Bella noticed anything was up.

"Charlie?"

Her dad said nothing, so Bella twisted around in her seat, trying to catch sight of whatever it was he was looking at. Two cars were behind them, nothing unusual.

"Dad?"

"Those cars have been behind us since Seattle." Her father answered stiffly, speeding up slightly.

Bella rolled her eyes. "And they couldn't possibly be people who live in Forks, Charlie?"

"I've never seen the cars before."

Bella smirked and leant back against the headrest. Sometimes, her Dad was truly paranoid. Small town life could get a bit dull.

* * * * *

"I'll be back by dinner, Bells. Your cooking is the highlight of my day."

"Sure, Charlie. I'll make your favorite stroganoff."

She could swear she could almost see him drooling over the prospect. Her dad wandered off to his cruiser, and Bella shut the front door firmly, reaching for the lock before remembering she was home. People don't lock their doors in Forks. She released the chain, smiling with a happiness she'd forgotten about over the last few days, and retreated back to the kitchen, where a bemused Luned was admiring the color scheme.

"My mom's idea," Bella said, waving her hand to incorporate the bright yellow kitchen cupboards. "She thought Forks needed some more sunshine."

Luned sighed happily. "I do not. I have missed the damp and green. Cymru is always that way."

"Let me show you my room. We'll have to share the bed I'm afraid."

"The same as we did in my time?"

"Just so, Luned." Bella gave Luned a tour, and they set their luggage in Bella's room before going outside to see the woods.

"Ah," Luned sighed. "Trees. I had begun to think there were not any in your world."

"In some places," Bella said, frowning. In others civilization had overtaken quality of life.

They passed a peaceful afternoon lying on the grass in the backyard, the blades damp on their backs, the weak sun shining overhead, a gentle breeze tickling their hair across their faces.

* * * * *

"Okay, time for dinner," Bella said at last, peeling herself away from the comfortable space she had made on the ground.

"What shall I make?" Luned asked, leaping lightly to her feet.

"You won't be making anything. I am quite capable of cooking."

Luned raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I can cook," Bella said, feigning hurt. "Despite your misgivings."

They walked as they spoke, and, when they reached the kitchen, Luned sat at the table, watched Bella with a doubtful expression on her face.

Bella poked her tongue out, digging the meat out of the fridge and throwing it in the pot. She grabbed an onion from the vegetable rack and a huge cutting knife from the drawer.

Typically for Bella, attempting a normal human task was well beyond her means. Just as she believed she was getting back into the swing of chopping, the knife slipped and sliced her hands instead of the onion.

Blood covered the cutting board and Luned jumped to her feet, horror cutting off her ability to speak.

Fortunately for Bella, Charlie chose that moment to arrive home, saving her from having to find some way to drive herself to the hospital.

Breathing deeply through her mouth and trying not to panic, Bella raced out the front, stopping Charlie before he even had the chance to enter as he sniffed the air in the hopes of a freshly made stroganoff. One look at Bella, clutching her cut hand to her chest, protected by the uninjured one, and followed by a frightened Luned, Charlie guffawed.

"You truly aren't home until you've done yourself some serious damage, are you Bells? Let's get you to the hospital."

The three of them bundled into Charlie's cruiser and made the five minute trip to the tiny hospital that served Forks and the surrounding area.

* * * * *

Charlie stood chatting amicably to the receptionist while Bella wrapped her hand in a temporary bandage. She was sitting in the waiting room, watched over by eagle-eyed Luned, who for some reason kept exclaiming fearfully that Bella was like as not to lose her hand, and possibly her life, from infection, despite Bella repeatedly trying to explain the benefits of antiseptic creams.

She was staring down in her lap, tuning out another terrified tirade when she realized Luned had fallen oddly silent.

Belatedly she noticed a pair of feet standing over her, and gazed up, her eyes drifting over a white coat and up further until her brown eyes met highly amused green ones.

"Can't you keep away from me, Miss Swan?"

Bella gulped. Her personal ghost, yet again.


A/N - you guys continue to rock, that's for sure =) I know you have been waiting impatiently for Mr. Edward Cullen...yes, he will now finally feature as a more significant part of the story.

I'm sure it's obvious, but any guesses as to the two cars?

Hopefully a new chap 24 hours from now =) so keep those eyes out!