CalvinPOV

On the Ferry…

You know how sometimes you wish you could just say exactly what was on your mind, no matter how inappropriate?

Yeah, well, Bella does. In fact, I think the disguise may have made it worse. A moment ago an elegant woman, her grey-white hair stylishly coiffed and wearing a pale pink pantsuit, missed grabbing the closing door to go into the lounge and accidentally hit Bella across the behind.

The older woman opened her mouth to apologize, but no, my Bella couldn't let things happen as civilly as that.

She turned to meet the woman's flustered expression and said ever so sweetly, "Thank you, may I have another?" Batting her eyelashes for dramatic effect.

The woman responded by snapping her mouth shut into a severe line, drawing herself up to her full height of 5 foot nothing, crossing herself then jerking the door back open to walk out.

Bella turned back to me with a smirk.

"Nice." I said dryly.

She shrugged and reached forward to receive the coke the bartender held out to her.

"Thanks." She murmured to the man and he nodded, glancing at me from the corner of his eye before looking back at her.

Yeah buddy, I know you'd make a play for it if I weren't here. Too fucking bad.

Something about the short hair made her seem so…naked. Her neck was long and graceful but so visible. There was just so much skin.

"What?" Bella asked, catching sight of my scowl.

"Just wondering what lame pick up lines Buddy here would use if I wasn't cockblocking with my mere presence."

She looked at the bartender who was busily pretending not to eavesdrop by scrubbing a glass clean.

She shrugged, "Ask him."

"I was being rhetorical. He's probably not even thinking about a pick up line, he probably skipped past that to the good stuff."

She looked at me from over the rim of her cup, starring expectantly.

"Fine. Buddy," His face snapped up from his task, "what pick up line did you want to use?"

His eyes fixed on mine blankly, "Those are nice jeans. Do you think I could get in them?"

Bella burst out laughing and I looked puzzled at her dress. She wasn't even wearing jeans.

But I was.

Goddamn.

I grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her away, but she was hardly able to stand for laughing so hard.

We settled in the lounge, 45 long minutes still left in the trip. The older woman was studiously ignoring us, bringing a magazine up to cover her face. Better Homes and Gardens. Figures. I tried to picture Bella at that age, but I just couldn't get the image to form.

"I've heard better pick up lines." Bella mused.

"Me too." I said distractedly, still looking at our surroundings. I was being paranoid. No one would recognize me as Doctor Doom or Bella as Carpet Suit Teenybopper. It was obvious that Lucas guy was carrying a torch for Bella, considering he remembered me as a villain.

Bella was muttering to herself again, "I'm easy, but it looks like you are hard."

I snorted, "What?"

"What? It's a pick up line. What are some of your favourites?"

"That wouldn't be one of them. It's crude."

Now she snorted, "Don't be so uptight. We're talking lines that work here."

I decided to indulge her and held my hand out to her, "Would you be a doll and hold this for me while I go for a walk?"

"Ha! That is so cheesy!"

I shrugged, "Hey, you said lines that work. That works."

She starred at me speculatively, "Are you a betting man Mr. Warren?"

I leaned towards her in my seat, matching her conspiring tone, "I might be Bambi. What's the offer?"

"When we solve this case," I smiled at her use of 'when', instead of 'if', the girl had faith in me, "we're going to see who can get more numbers using only one liners."

"What are the stakes?"

"You win, you can have me. If I win, I call all the shots between us."

I leaned back in my seat and considered her offer. I'd made myself abundantly clear about my attraction, but she didn't seem to realize that regardless of my words, she already called the shots.

"No." I answered, "I win, I get one kiss. You win, you call the shots."

Truth is I've never been much of a business man. I'd rather Bella come to me because she wants to than because we made some deal. I don't think she realized that if she played this game with me, we'd be playing for keeps.

She raised her brow at my amendment but reached forward and shook on it.

The lounge was surrounded by windows and at that moment the sun decided to peak through the clouds so we left the lounge and walked down to the garage and settled back into the cab of the truck. The large room was stiflingly hot so Bella scooted across the bench and leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder, a slight sheen of sweat on her skin. Her scent was concentrated in the cab and although I felt in control, I knew my pupils were probably dilated unnaturally.

"Hey Calvin?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you want to have sex with me?" I had to hand it to the girl, she didn't sound needy or hurt, just very curious.

"I don't want to ruin what we have." Cliché, but true.

"Jesus, really? I didn't know you were so bad in bed."

"Hardy har har." I sighed, "I know I haven't been keeping my libido in check, but, as I am now I've never have a friend, let alone a female friend. We talked about this, and we can both joke all we want, but we know it would only complicate things. I've been pretty clear about my…hopes, but you still don't know what you want. I think, if we're friends long enough, then if, or when, we try for anything more, we could survive it as friends if it didn't work out."

She took a deep breath, "You're right. Friends first. But, for the record, I've thought about it."

A groan escaped, "Don't tell me that."

She laughed and adopted a silly baritone, teasing me, "Now is not the time. But I will have you."

"Just as soon as you let me have you, babe."

The loud speakers crackled and echoed throughout the huge room, "Attention passengers, we will soon be arriving at our destination, if you have a vehicle on board please return to it and wait to disembark. Thank you and have an enjoyable stay in Port Angeles."

We sat in amicable silence as we watched the staircase door open again and again as people went in search of their cars.

That silence lasted while we drove out from the boat and all the way to Forks; her head still leaned against my granite shoulder. I wondered that her neck hadn't started to ache.

As we passed the border into Forks she finally spoke up, "Where to first?"

"Charlie's? I'll park around the corner and go through the woods to the back so I can collect everything, in case any nosey neighbours might be keeping watch. Then we'll stop by Lauren's and I'll run up to the door and quickly work my magic." Her address had been listed in the phone book at the gas station we stopped at on our way over.

She agreed and another 45 minutes later we were on our way to the Connie's. The mood was sombre.

"Do you feel it?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah. I do."

You'd think a murder mystery would be thrilling, but for a case like this and people like Bella and I with our good instincts, it was just…dreadful. I literally felt full of dread.

I pulled up in front of bungalow surrounded by beautiful landscaping in a mature subdivision. The houses were pleasantly spaced and varied and the trees were developed and lush, the perfect setting for a family.

I pulled into the driveway, shut off the engine and listened to our surroundings.

"Paul's here," I murmured, "He's been waiting in the park behind their house for over an hour. He's not too happy that we're late. He's going to keep waiting outside. The Connies know him."

Bella pulled in a deep breath and held it. She grabbed hold of the door handle and released a puff of air, "Let's do this."

I followed her to the door and watched her knock. She was going through the motions as quickly as possible, like ripping off a band aid.

I could hear the creak of a chair and footsteps that seemed to drag towards the door, I looked down at the personalised welcome mat beneath my feet "Welcome to Jim and Sara's and God Bless!"

Fucking hell.

A man no older than 30 opened the door slowly, I was so focused on his face I hardly noticed his clothes. He had dark circles under his eyes, his thick brown hair was greasy and stringy and stubble covered the bottom half of his face.

He rubbed at his left eye with the back of his hand and grumbled out a "Can I help you?"

"We were hoping to talk to you and your wife, Sara?" Bella asked.

He shook his head, "Sara left. She's at her mother's."

He leaned against the doorframe and stared at us impassively. I got the impression that such open honesty and airing of dirty laundry was unusual for him. I looked beyond him at what seemed to be a pristine house, albeit a vacant one. The smell of rotting food lingered in the air, contradicting the domestic haven in front of me. A cross hung on the wall just inside the door and family pictures littered every available surface.

Bella cleared her throat and shuffled her feet; she squinted up at me, "Calvin. Just do it."

I didn't want to. This man may have done a very desperate thing because he had been thrust into a supernatural world where he could not escape his denial. His life was in ruins, he was pathetic to look at.

I knew he heard Bella, we could have been about to do something horrible to him, but his eyes were dead and he merely beckoned us in, "I was just making lunch."

We followed him into a bright kitchen, the cupboards were painted a clean white and the kitchen was covered with a bright checker tablecloth. Better Homes and Gardens Woman wouldn't like it, but no one could say it didn't look homey.

The feeling was undermined by the exhausted state of the man in it and the overloaded kitchen sink. The counter was littered with crumbs, spills and smears, little fruit flies seemed to bounce from spot to spot. Jim Connie picked up a butcher knife from the counter, undoubtedly the last remotely clean knife he had, and used it to smear peanut butter on an old pancake.

This shit was totally fucking depressing.

Bambi practically moaned her misery. She jerked the pancake away from him before he could take a bite and threw it in, or rather on top of, the overfilled garbage. He looked at it dispassionately.

His eyes flicked to me, "Well now that you've ruined my lunch, what do you want?"

I evaded his gaze and watched Bella gingerly make her way around the kitchen. She pulled open cupboards, finding little more than one can of kidney beans and a box of nearly empty, stale bran cereal. She looked in the fridge and found only spoiled milk, a block of mouldy cheese and another pancake, lovingly wrapped in saran. I watched her grab a pad of paper and a pen that was covered in sticky syrup, writing something down quickly.

"Calvin?" Bambi finally addressed me, "Can you run out and grab these items for me?"

What the hell?

"Jim, don't listen." I commanded him before answering Bella, "Is that a shopping list? Why?"

"Because this might be the last chance he has for a nice home cooked meal." She reasoned.

I mindlessly reached out to receive the list from her, "Good God, you're beautiful on the inside too. How horrible."

Her lip quirked. I looked back at ol' Jim, I think we both knew he had something to do with the murder. I couldn't leave my Bambi with a killer.

She saw my internal struggle, "Go, I'll be fine."

From further away I heard Paul tiredly say, "I'll keep an eye on her."

"This man quite possibly killed your best friend. Why in the name of Lucifer would you care if he had anything decent to eat?"

Bella gave me a confused look before she realized I who I was speaking to. She turned towards the sink and started cleaning.

"He was Emile's mate. I could care less about him, but I know this would be important to Emile." I knew it took something powerful to make a man like Paul this understanding.

I looked uncertainly at Bella's back, but finally decided that in this, I could trust Paul.

It took me a mere half hour to collect everything Bella needed. But by the time I came back, I realized it only took that half hour for Bella to scrub the kitchen clean, take out the trash and have a heartfelt conversation with a now sobbing Jim Connie as they both were seated at the kitchen table, a box of tissues between them.

This woman worked miracles.

"-and I-I broke my Sara's he-eart." He choked out before noticing me standing in the doorway, bags clutched in each hand. He tried to compose himself, scrubbing at his eyes and face with his hands. Bella hopped up from her seat and took the bags from me, giving me a meaningful look with her red-rimmed brown eyes.

I heard Paul's strangled voice in the distance, "He confessed. It's over. It's over."

Part of me was grateful and relieved to have missed it, part of me was curious as hell.

I took Bambi's place and reached a hand over to cover his on the table. He turned his palm up to wrap his fingers around mine.

He put his head down, resting his forehead against the inside of his elbow. I could see his eyelashes, blinking down at the print of the table cloth, before he let out a deep sigh of relief and sadness and closed his eyes, the tension leaving his hunched shoulders.

He fell asleep gripping my hand and I watched Bambi move quietly about the kitchen, conscious of the man's first few hours of sleep in likely a very long time. She was almost unnaturally quiet in the kitchen. Where other people wouldn't be able to help but rattle a few baking sheets and pans together while searing for a roasting pan, she managed to do it without even a scrap of metal.

For an hour and half, longer than it took her to clean up both the physical and psychological messes within the house, she cooked. The pace was slow and peaceful, and the sentiment seemed to seep into the quality of the food. It smelled wonderful.

She set the table, mindful of not disturbing Jim and smiled gently when she saw our clasped hands.

Eventually I was surrounded with glazed carrots, a medium rare roast beef, garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, sweet acorn squash, and glasses filled with red wine.

She gave me an apologetic look, "You're going to have to eat with us."

"That's fine." I said, surveying the feast, "It looks and smells wonderful."

She paused in straightening the napkins and smiled softly at me before running a hand through my hair affectionately.

Without us having to wake him, Jim blinked his eyes open, likely enticed into consciousness by the delicious aroma of the food in front of him.

He removed his hand from under mine to wipe a few new stray tears from his eyes, "I don't deserve this."

"Hush, don't think of that now." Bella chastised before settling into the chair on the other side of Jim. I started to carve the roast beef and after a moment of hesitation Jim reached for the glazed carrots. Bella took a sip of wine and observed Jim a moment longer before accepting a slice of beef.

We ate and talked about things that seemed surreally normal, weather, baseball and politics. I realized, as I forced a mouthful of green beans down, that I would remember this day forever and I would likely think of it often.

I had to beg out of dessert. Jim seemed quietly content to eat a large piece of tiramisu and sip a cup of coffee with Bella. They talked awhile longer and while Bella became increasingly distressed, prolonging the conversation, Jim became unnaturally peaceful.

He cleared the table of our plates and went about washing the dishes. Bella sat stone still a moment longer before rising from her chair and grabbing a kitchen towel to dry. I got up and started to clean the counters.

They started talking about music and as quietly as possible I called out to Paul. No answer. I listened more closely and realized that he was no longer there. How strange.

When we'd finished our task we stood about the kitchen awkwardly.

"I can't thank you enough." Jim said to Bella, he was looking at her like she was someone he cared about and she was starring back at him, her eyes wide and full of unshed tears.

What the fuck is going on?

Bella opened her mouth to speak but instead a sob escaped. She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head, his expression serene.

When he drew back he gently pushed Bella away from him and she turned to grab my hand and tug me outside. I followed obediently but looked back, puzzled, at Jim who merely nodded a goodbye to me, standing still in the middle of a now clean kitchen. Bella pulled the front door shut and I started to sputter.

"Bella, what are you-? He needs to-…What is going on?"

"Shh, get in the truck Calvin, we're going to say bye to the people at the reservation and then we're leaving Forks, once and for all." Her voice was husky with emotion.

I stood in front of the truck and watched her climb into the passenger side. Flabbergasted I finally walked over and got in the driver's side. I turned the engine on and looked questioningly at Bella only to see her starring resolutely ahead, I started to put the truck into reverse when I heard it. My hands stilled and my eyes snapped over to Bella, only to see her eyes clench tightly shut, pushing out one lone tear, wondering if she had heard it too.

A gunshot.