Thanks to my beta, Besotted, and my BFF pre-reader, Twaffle. I couldn't have done any of this without either of you.
Antiques Roadshow
After a heated make out session, Bella says she needs to make a phone call to a couple of the boys back home, and she walks out to the back porch to do so. I don't get a chance to tell her about my superior hearing skills before she goes outside. I probably won't be able to get away with this much longer, but for now, I'm listening in on as much of her conversation as I can while I sit in the living room. I want to know how the Quileute men will treat my Bella after they learn that she's in a relationship with a vampire. We may be a family of vegetarian vampires, but we are vampires nonetheless. Also, Bella is a firecracker and obviously doesn't like to be kept in the dark. I think she's planning on handing those men their asses. I have a feeling this is going to be good.
I hear Bella swinging back and forth on the porch swing as one of them picks up the phone. "Hello?" he questions Bella takes a deep breath.
"Well, hello, Jacob Ephraim Black," she says, practically cooing into the phone.
"Shit," he whispers, groaning. "What did I do to earn middle-name usage?" Bella snorts as her thoughts run rampant, trying to figure out what she wants to say first.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you didn't tell me you could actually explode into a wolf, is all," she says in a growl, huffing. "I remember the old folk stories you told me, Jacob, but you could have trusted me to keep your secret."
"How… how did you find out? I mean, you can't know… Bella, this is serious. How do you know I can morph into a wolf?" he asks, and his tone is deadly serious and concerned.
"I'm in a relationship with a vampire, asswipe. And before you ask, he's a vegetarian. You know his family. The Cullens. Ring a bell?" she fumes a little more, really making him sweat a little. I kind of wish I was around Jacob right now, because his facial expressions are sure to be priceless amounts of win.
"You're what? This is not something to be joking about, Bella. Are you stupid?"
"I know you aren't hard of hearing, Jacob. And you know damn well I'm not stupid. I'm dating Edward Cullen. It's serious. I'm a grown adult, and so are you. Are you going to try to tell me how to live my life?"
The fact that she said that our relationship is serious makes my heart feel full and joyous, but I'm anxious for what Jacob will say next.
"I'm sorry," he says, marginally contrite for how he was speaking to her. "It's just that I heard the word vampire and freaked out. Can you honestly blame me?"
"Not entirely," Bella says sighing. "You could have told me about all this supernatural stuff years ago, and you didn't. I can understand why you didn't, but we've always been like siblings to one another, and it hurts that you didn't confide in me when you could have used another friend. I mean, I assume you could have used another friend while you were off keeping secrets about being in a wolf pack," she says quietly.
"I'm sorry for that too, Bells," Jacob sighs while shuffling around in the background. "Are you sure you're safe with this Cullen guy? Edward? The name is familiar, but I know he wasn't with the others when the treaty was signed in my great-grandfather's presence. I was told he came to live with Carlisle and Esme a couple of years later, if I remember correctly."
"Yes, I'm sure. He's just told me about his being a vampire, and he was as honest as he could be with me before that. He's one of the most genuinely considerate people I've ever met."
A deep sigh emanates from the other end of the phone as Jacob acquiesces. "All right, Bella. I'll trust your judgment. My great-grandfather did keep records on the Cullen family, and he said that their clan was to be trusted and that no harm was to come to them as long as they strictly kept to their animal diet. I can't say that I'm thrilled about this, but I don't run your life any more than you run mine. And let's face it - I am a supernatural being, too."
"Thank you, Jacob," Bella says in a soft voice, and I can tell she's relieved to have his approval. "Is Embry around?" she asks, and I can now hear a distinct smile in her voice.
"Yeah, he's out in the garage. We were just working on a Harley for Paul as a side job. Hang on just a sec," he replies, and I hear him walking out to his garage.
"Dude, it's Bella," Jacob whispers to Embry, knowing she won't be able to hear him. "She knows we can morph into wolves, and she was pissed. You're getting the better end of this deal, so you owe me a beer," he states as he hands the phone off with a snort.
"Hey, Bells! I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance for not telling you we can shift into wolves," he says in a confident voice. "But there's no reason to get your panties in a bunch, right?"
Bella's thoughts take the same turn mine do after hearing the comment that comes out of Embry's mouth.
He really shouldn't have said that.
"Do you happen to have a girlfriend, Embry?"
"Yeah, I do, actually. Her name is Maela. We've only been together for a couple of months, and she's great. I really love her. Why do you ask? I don't know if you'll want to talk to her right now. She's been really moody the last couple of days…" he trails off, and I snicker to myself. He seems a little dense. I don't think he realizes the hook he's just given Bella.
"Does she happen to be around at the moment?"
"Yeah, she's with Sue, helping to make chili for Billy, Jake and myself."
"Okay. Would you do me a favor, pretty please?" Bella asks in a sweet voice.
He's going to get in so much shit for this, and I really won't feel guilty about it.
"Stay on the line for a minute, and please go ask Maela if she's moody because her Aunt Flo's in town."
"Aunt Flo?" he asks, bewildered. "Who's Aunt Flo? How do you know she has an aunt named Flo?"
"Don't worry about it," Bella replies, snickering under her breath. It's not hard to miss the glee in her voice, and I once again thank my lucky stars that I have a devious, intelligent mate.
"Sure, Bells," he answers, and I can hear him opening the door to Jacob's house. "You're acting kinda weird, even for you," he says as he approaches his girlfriend, and I can hear her chopping something on a cutting board.
"Honey, I have a question for you," he begins, still sounding confused.
"Sure, Embry. What is it?"
"Is your Aunt Flo in town? Is that why you've been moody lately?" he asks, and I swear there's nothing but silence for a full five seconds before I hear Maela vocalize anything.
"Tell me you're kidding," she screeches, indignation lacing her tone. "You're seriously asking me this?" I can hear Bella trying to stifle her laughter as Embry tries to figure out what's going on, and her mirth causes me to chuckle, too.
"What do you mean?" he asks in earnest. "If your Aunt Flo makes you this moody, you should just tell her to leave," he says thoroughly confounded.
"I can't just tell her to leave. Are you telling me you don't know that Aunt Flo isn't real? And since when does any man who has half a brain piss off his imprint and just decide to bring up her moodiness all of a sudden? Are you gonna offer to go buy Midol next?"
As Maela ends her tirade and Embry scrambles to think of what to say next, Bella's thoughts close in on smug satisfaction.
Only I would be lucky enough to pick a time where his girlfriend is actually on her period. My work here is done.
She presses the end button on her phone and strolls back into the house, grinning and giggling like a madwoman.
"I'll need to apologize to his girlfriend at some point, but that was well worth it," she says as she makes herself comfortable on my lap. I really have no objections to her position.
I know I have a silly smile on my face, and I want to keep honesty as the foundation of our relationship, so I decide to tell her that I just heard everything that she said.
"Bella, I have to confess that I heard that entire exchange. I can hear just about anything for miles, and I didn't get a chance to tell you about my super-hearing abilities before you went out to make your call." I pause as I capture the hair that plays around her face.
"I'm also admitting that I listened in with interest. To begin with, I only wanted to make sure your friends treated you with respect after learning about our relationship. After that, I couldn't help continuing to listen as it just got more amusing the longer you spoke with this Embry guy," I finish, hoping she'll be lenient with me.
"You know this is the only time I'll let you get away with this, right?" she asks with a hint of mock sternness.
"That's what I thought, yes," I reply with a smirk. "If you ever want complete and total privacy during a phone call or anything like that again, just ask me to take a run, and I promise I will," I say looking at her seriously. "I'll do almost anything you ask of me."
Almost, huh? she thinks as her thoughts kick into overdrive and her smirk takes up residence on her face. A certain song pops into my head from out of nowhere, and I'm left trying not to laugh my ass off. But I have to take the opening she's given me.
"I would do anyyyything for love…but I won't do that," I sing horribly off-key as I launch into hysterics. It just can't be controlled. I mean, it's Meat Loaf. Meat Loaf. Who names oneself after a dinner entrée?
Bella laughs uncontrollably, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. We calm down enough to both be reduced to small tremors, and Bella forms enough words to poke fun at me. "Please, please, never sing again," she laughs as she pats my shoulder in a conciliatory way. "Some of us just aren't gifted with the ability to sing," she adds with a snort.
"I may be a vampire, my dear, but I'm not perfect at everything," I growl, enunciating the word and stealing another searing kiss. Every time I taste her, my desires make themselves known, pushing and pulling at me for me to mark and please her in any way she wants. I may have had no experience with women up until I met Bella, but my instincts and desire for her rule my movements. It doesn't hurt that I've been into the minds of millions, including my family members'. I've gained plenty of carnal knowledge over the years… and I fully intend on using it. Eventually.
I break our kiss with a soft growl, hating to separate myself from her heat. She's gorgeous positioned slightly above me, her eyes barely open and her chest rising and falling in rapid succession with her heartbeat. I can't help but let my hips shift into her as I taste the hollow of her throat where she's most potent and fragrant on my tongue. Though I'm positive there's at least one other place on her body where her essence would have me begging for more, I'm not sure my taste buds could handle it right now. Plus, I have to go to work. Sometimes I hate being a goody-two-shoes vampire.
"Bella, sweetheart, I'd rather not be anywhere else," I rasp, forcing my lips away from her skin. "But I have to go to work soon," I mutter, more than a little peeved that I'm tied down to a job at the moment.
"Mmm, okay," she whispers as she nibbles my earlobe, and the feel of her teeth on my skin feels like the sweetest, euphoric sin. The act rips a moan from my chest, unbidden and uncontrolled. I'm positive my eyes are black with lust, but I can't bring myself to care.
She finally begins to pull away from me with a happy, satisfied smile on her face. Her expression changes into worry when she notices the color of my eyes have changed. "Are you okay?" she tentatively asks, gently placing her fingertips under my eyes. "Your eyes are so dark they've turned black."
"I'm completely fine," I answer, needing to assure her that I'm nowhere near thirsty. Not for her blood, at least. "When a vampire becomes aroused," I purr, clasping her wrist with my hand and bringing it to my mouth where I graze her pale flesh with my lips, "our eyes darken to an obsidian color. You never have to worry about me wanting to hurt you. I could never hurt you. You're my mate," I say while placing my hand over her heart.
Your mate? What does that mean?
"Vampires are fortunate enough to only ever love one mate in their existence, whether they come in the form of a human or an immortal. When you and I first met, I had trouble identifying the magnetism I felt to you, the sheer need I felt to be in your presence. My creator, Carlisle, was able to help me realize that I found my mate that day… in you." I trail off, anxious for what Bella will say or think next. I never really meant to have this conversation with her right now, but I also feel relieved that it's now off my chest.
Does this mean you don't get a choice in whom to love? Does this mean I don't get a choice, as well?
"Not at all, Bella. Carlisle thinks that the pull forms to our mates because they are what one another inherently needs – and that the bond wouldn't form otherwise. He spent time living with the rulers of our kind a long time ago, and he learned a lot about mating while he lived with them. A bond can only be broken if neither party feels anything remotely romantic for the other after spending a significant amount of time together. In those instances, it's been determined that the relationship that formed wasn't that of a mate bond, but rather, of friendship. I believe that the threads that tie us together are those of a true mate bond."
I understand what you're saying, and I don't completely disagree with it. I've been living a solitary existence in this city for long enough that I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever find someone to share my life with. And I do feel strongly for you. Consider yourself mated, baby.
She smiles at me in a playful manner, and I hug her tightly. "There will never be a time where I'm not thankful for you," I say, kissing her forehead. "And I promise to explain more about our nature whenever you have questions. I really need to leave, though. Will you visit me at work later?" I ask, mentally running through who's on the schedule for today. James has the day off, so it'll be safe for Bella to be there.
"I don't have anything planned," she says as she grabs her keys. "I'll be there in a few hours, probably early evening. Is that okay?"
"That's perfect," I answer, squeezing her hip as she walks backwards toward the door. She arches her brow, blows me a kiss and leaves my sight.
I dress quickly for work, slipping my tie around my neck and lacing my dress shoes. I'm kind of hoping for a challenge today. Maybe someone will try stealing and give me something fun to do.
By the time I'm done with my shift, I'm feeling annoyed and melancholy. Nothing exciting or fun happened at work, and Bella called and cancelled her visit. A friend of hers is going through a bad breakup, and she wanted to be there for her. I can completely understand this. Unfortunately, I won't get to see her until her next Roadshow event which is still a few days away. She has several meetings with private collectors and our schedules just don't mesh.
We meet again in Minnesota, four days later, at the Saint Paul RiverCentre. I have brought along what looks to be an original Lusitania and Mauretania poster which features a picture of the Lusitania. I have no idea how or why my parents had this in their possession, but I'm looking forward to learning more about it. It's not like I don't already know the history of what happened to the Lusitania, but the history behind the item and the possibility of receiving another human memory drives me to Bella's side. As if she wasn't awesome enough.
I had the presence of mind to book myself on an early train so that I could arrive earlier than I did at the previous events. As a result, I was one of the first in line for the Prints & Posters section of the Roadshow. Our line runs close to the cameraman, and he spots me with interest and pulls me aside for a brief chat between items.
"I've seen you in her line three times now," he speaks quietly, assessing my appearance. He's a stocky, built, middle-aged man with spiked gray hair and glasses. "Are you treating our Bella right?" he asks while looking me straight in the eyes, and his thoughts are that of a concerned father-like figure. With a bit of a kick.
He'd better not be stalking her. I've watched enough of The Sopranos to know how to get rid of a body. There is rope and blankets in my car for emergency situations. Well, maybe not the rope. Maybe I watch too much Man vs. Wild.
I feel my lips twitch upward a fraction, amused and pleased that Bella has friends like these who care for her. "I assure you, I am," I reply. "Bella and I are dating, and I happen to own quite a few antiques that I'd like to have appraised. This is kind of my way of courting her," I say as I set my poster down with care and hold my hand out. "I'm Edward Cullen from Chicago, and it's nice to meet you."
He nods his head, glad that I'm straight-forward and making myself approachable. He shakes my hand firmly, smiling. "I'm Mac Benson, also from Chicago. It's nice to meet you, Edward," he says, as he notices my eyes have drifted back to Bella. He must see the feelings I have for her play on my face, because he teases me a little. "Go take your place back in line," he laughs easily. "You look as smitten as they come."
I step back into line with my poster with ease. I'm surely not going to argue with him. He's absolutely right.
When I get to Bella, she's just finished an appraisal on a "Breakfast at Tiffany's" half sheet poster from 1961, and she's ready to see my antique. I walk up to her, kiss her knuckles, and place my poster on the easel stand made available for large pieces. I hear a small murmur of female swoons because of my actions, and I'd certainly be red-faced if it were possible. Mac snorts to himself and thinks that I'm pulling out all the stops tonight. I am pulling out the stops – but only for Bella.
"Hello again, Edward," Bella blushes as she greets me for the audience's sake. "It seems we'll be meeting each other like this for a while, hmm?" she says, looking to me for confirmation. "We will be, indeed," I state, smiling. I don't necessarily want to air out our private lives for the national viewing public, so I stop right there.
"So, Edward, what did you bring me today?" Bella asks.
"This is a poster of a rather large ship, depicting the famous Lusitania, with facts on the Mauretania. It describes the ships with measurements, and information about things like horsepower and how many tons they weighed."
"You're exactly right, Edward. You would think it was odd that the ship that's depicted doesn't have the name on it, but that's not the case. This poster was likely finished before the ships were actually launched, which means we can date this poster to about the summer of 1907." She pauses before continuing to look closely at the poster and even goes so far as to walk slowly around the entire frame, noting tiny details in her assessment.
"Wartime scholars and enthusiasts would know that the Lusitania sunk on May seventh of 1915. Could you inform the public why?" she questions, looking at me with interest.
I know you know your history, babe.
"Of course," I reply, rising to the challenge. "The Lusitania was torpedoed by the German U-20 submarine during World War One. It only took 18 minutes for it to sink."
"We have a knowledgeable guest, indeed," Bella says in response to the facts I stated. "A ship enthusiast would be able to recognize the Lusitania or the Mauretania right away, just from its profile. After looking this over thoroughly, I've found no artist's name on the work. It's anonymous, which isn't a surprise because many of the ocean liner companies used very talented but unknown artists to do their work. The Lusitania and the Mauretania were owned by the Cunard line, which was a British-based company. This means that this particular poster would have been printed in England. The name "Cunard Line" is missing from the poster, and I'm pretty sure this is because the name has been cut off. I still feel that the poster is so rare that even with the words "Cunard Line" missing, it retains its value," she says while gently touching the frame.
"Have you any idea of the value of this piece?" she asks, and as she does, she reaches to touch my arm. Another human memory is immediately gifted to me, and I'm incredibly happy that this is the type of latent talent my Bella carries.
This time, I'm taken back to when I was just shy of 16 years old. I remember reading an adventure novel called "The Lost World" by Arthur Conan Doyle as my dad sat at his desk, brushing up on one of his cases. Mother rushed into the den with that morning's paper, and my father got up to read the headline. It was April 16th of 1912. I remember how he comforted my mother, brushing her cheekbone with his hand and whispering in her ear before she left the room. He walked to the other end of the room, newspaper in hand, studiously examining the poster that hung on the wall of his study.
"I just can't believe the arrogance," my father whispers while gingerly touching the frame. His blue eyes are sad and he takes his reading glasses off as he rubs his forehead.
"What's happened, father?" I ask, placing my book aside. I can tell that something serious has happened in the world, and I want to pay attention to what he has to say. I can't ever recall having seen my father look so shaken.
"Come stand with me, Edward," he replies, beckoning me to his side. When I stand next to him, he shows me the headline of the paper, and my stomach drops in dread with what I read. "The Titanic has sunk to the bottom of the Atlantic, and many lives were lost," he sighs heavily before continuing. "More than 1,500 of them. This was what they called the unsinkable ship, the grandest of them all, and yet it still sunk. If you look at the ship on this wall – the Lusitania, it seems almost as grand, does it not? It's only 95 feet smaller than the Titanic, and it's been sailing for five years now." He pauses as he places his hand on my shoulder and looks into my eyes.
"I want you to remember, Edward, that when it comes to the nature of man, nothing is absolute. We are all human, we're all faulty. If any person says something is inconceivable, I want you to debate the opposite, think the opposite. Because tragedies like this are preventable. Do you understand, son?" he asks with soft eyes and a saddened heart.
"I understand, dad," I answer solemnly. I feel horrible for the families who lost their loved ones, and I wonder if this is the exact reason my mother was so upset earlier and why my father is so shaken now. "Dad? Do you think mom needs help with anything right now?"
"I think she'd appreciate that, Edward. I think she'd love to spend some time with her only child," he finishes with a soft smile. I'm almost through the door of his study when his voice stops me in my tracks.
"And Edward?" he says as he looks away from the poster once again and back into my eyes. "Never forget that your mother and I love you. More than our own lives," he says as he walks back to his desk and takes his seat.
I'm catapulted from the vivid memory and back into the present, and once again, it's only been mere seconds since Bella has asked her question of me. This particular memory makes me feel so very thankful that I grew up with a strong, but sensitive father in my life. To get back on track, I answer Bella's question.
"No, I don't know anything about its worth," I answer, still reliving my human memory, feeling like I'm still with my dad. These memories are precious, but I miss my parents. I've missed them ever since I became a vampire, but I truly miss them now, after having been given the opportunity to relive some of my life with them.
"This is a known image of the Lusitania ship, and with the exact text that's in it, I consider it quite rare. Conservatively, at auction, I'd estimate it to be worth between $12,000 and $18,000."
I smile at Bella in a happy manner, though I think she's noticed that I'm not my usual jovial self. "That's so great!" I reply, truly surprised by how much the antique is worth. "Thank you so much, Bella," I add, as the segment finishes taping.
"Are you okay?" Bella whispers in a rush, knowing she doesn't have long to talk to me before she consults with the next person in line.
"I will be. I promise. I'll explain everything to you later," I respond, needing to set her mind at ease so that she can resume her work with minimal worry. "I'm not booked for a hotel here, and I do have to fly back to Chicago tonight," I say with a heavy heart. "Please call me when you get back, okay? We can meet up then?" I ask wanting to make sure I get to see her as soon as possible.
"I will," she replies with a quick peck on my stone cheek. "And I'll miss you," she says as she takes her place back in front of the camera.
"I'll miss you too, love," I say quietly, for her ears only. Her heart skips a beat and increases in speed at the endearment. Unfortunately, Mac heard me, too. I can hear him snickering behind his camera. I shake my head and grin as I pass him by, humming The Sopranos opening theme.
A/N:
Instead of using a movie reference or quote this time, I used a Meat Loaf lyric from his 1993 album Bat Out Of Hell II.
I apologize for taking so long with this chapter, but I won't give you quantity over quality, and I hit a few snags with this one. It was being a bitch. That's all I have to say about that.
Thank you all so much for your continued support and love. It means a lot to me that you take the time to read my story.
Are you on twitter? It's fun! You can find me there (at)conqueredthesky.
