A/N: All standard disclaimers apply. Yay, my Netbook is finally fixed, so I can read and write on the comfy couch instead of the annoying desk chair! I'm defending my Master's thesis this quarter, so I may not be updating weekly (which I try to do now), but I'm dedicated to this story so have faith and we'll muddle through the next few months! Kisses to all you ducks who review, too-I don't wheedle for 'em or anything, but when I'm having a grumpy morning it sure is nice to see one pop up in my inbox! I'll do some shout-outs w/ the next chapter (which is already written - not usual for me!) and also another trivia game. Aaaand on with the show!

As Children After Play

Rosalie sat on an overstuffed couch in the living room, flanked by Emmett and Esme. Jasper lounged in a nearby chair by himself; Alice was again ensconced in her room with Bella, and Edward was in his room across the hall, listening in to make sure no more incidents occurred.

"He fell so quickly," Esme mused, staring off into space. "It's not at all like Edward."

"It's exactly like Edward," Rose disagreed. "He doesn't do things by halves. He's been alone for so long, waiting. Now that he's found her, he's not wasting any time."

Emmett snickered, and Rose balled a loose fist and punched his shoulder. The impact was enough to make him rub the spot. She knew exactly where his mind had been, but she hadn't meant it that way. No, she hadn't meant physically. Physically, he hardly dared to touch the little human girl for fear of breaking her. Rose didn't need Jasper to tell her that. But emotionally, he'd dove right in, completely unaware of what he was getting himself into. There was no telling how open Bella was to a relationship - how much of her heart was still whole enough to engage another being in that sort of way. Only time would tell, but Edward wasn't prepared to wait.

"He's fallen hard," Jasper agreed. When a vampire found his mate, that was it. There was no turning back; everyone in the Cullen living room knew that firsthand. Still, they were hesitant to give their entire approval to Edward's actions. "He's always so calm; I was amazed at the emotions I was feeling from him up there." Jasper shuddered. "Not bad, but overwhelming. Fear, love. Anger at Alice. Hatred - deep hatred for Chief Swan."

"Which is as it should be," Emmett growled, his eyes darkening. Rose put a hand on his arm, feeling the tight muscles as she tried to soothe him.

Jasper didn't answer Emmett, but continued his list. "Incredible possessiveness and protectiveness - sheer amounts feeding off of each other. He feels like he's the only one who can keep her safe."

"Which may not be literally true," Esme said, hearing Carlisle's car ascending the driveway. "But it may be best to go along with it, and give him the chance to be her first line of comfort. If he really is destined to be her mate, it's important that they get this time to let the bond grow unhindered."

"Except that Edward doesn't know the first thing about helping a girl who's been through all that Bella has," Rosalie argued. "He thinks that holding her and giving her kisses is going to solve the problem, and you know as well as I do that it doesn't work that way."

Esme nodded. "I know. We'll have to help him - I didn't say that we should let him do it on his own. But when she needs a place to hide, it may be best to let Edward's arms be the ones that hold her. That poor girl needs a glimpse of healthy family life - parents and siblings that love her. I'd prefer if that was where she came for comfort - to a platonic source like you or me as sister and mother figures. But if Edward is the one she wants, I'm not going to get in the way."

"And if she could care less which of us it is, and it's just Edward butting in?"

"It's not," Jasper broke in as Carlisle entered the room. "She's very confused, and very, very tired. She doesn't know what she wants. But she trusts him." He broke off, looking for the words to explain the nuances of emotion that didn't always come with an easy vocabulary. "She trusts you, Rose. And Esme and Carlisle. She likes Alice, but is somewhat overwhelmed by her, too. The jury's still out on me and Emmett, but she hasn't really been around us much. But Edward...it's different. She looks for him when he's not there, and when he is, he draws her attention like a siphon. It's not love; I don't think she's emotionally ready for that. But there's something about him that draws her in, something more than trust."

"Yes," Esme agreed with a small smile, her eyes finding Carlisle's from across the room. "I remember that feeling quite well, myself."

The doctor returned her affectionate smile, settling himself in a chair. He held a file folder of papers in his hand. "How's she doing?" he asked by way of greeting.

"Fine, now," Esme said, after a glance at Jasper to make sure nothing upstairs had radically changed in the past few minutes. "She had a panic attack a short while ago, triggered by a nickname her father likes to use."

"And before you ask," Rose put in, sounding mildly irritated, "no, we don't know what it is. Alice said it when they were alone in her room."

"Which is where they are now?" Carlisle guessed. "And Edward?"

"Snooping from his room." Rose rolled her eyes, though in truth she didn't really blame him. Not after what they'd seen. "Let me guess." She nodded toward the sheaf of papers Carlisle held. "Are those Bella's purloined medical records?"

"You guessed it." Carlisle made a wry face. "I dislike breaking the law, but in this case I thought it was necessary. I had her doctor in Phoenix fax over what they had, too. It wasn't much."

Esme lifted her chin from her hand. "So you think the mother is absolved, then?"

"I didn't say that."

The look on Carlisle's face was strange. Esme looked at him for a long moment, then rose and went to sit on the arm of his chair. She slid a hand through his pale hair and cupped the back of his neck. "What is it, love?"

He turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist, then flipped open the folder. A small subset of pages were paper clipped together, and these he handed to her. "This is all they had in Phoenix. And that's from birth, mind you."

Esme didn't look at the papers in her hand. "What do you plan to do with these copies?"

"I want you all to look through them, if you would. I have a cell number that the Phoenix office said was active, and I want to try calling her mother while you see if you can find anything useful in these files."

"Useful how?" Rose asked, standing and reaching for the full folder.

"I've looked at them too much; I need fresh eyes to see what maybe I've missed. A pattern, or something significant. It's possible there may be no clues here, but I was hoping that Bella might be more willing to talk to us if we could show her proof from her medical files that we know what's going on."

"We'll look," Esme said, giving him a little push.

Carlisle rose and headed for the stairs to his office. "Shall I send Edward down?"

"He's fine where he is," Esme said firmly. "We have enough eyes on our own. But bring him down with you when you're done?"

"I will."

Carlisle climbed the stairs, not feeling particularly hopeful about the upcoming conversation. The cell number from Phoenix might not work, and even if it did, he had no idea what Renee might be like. He didn't have a terribly good opinion of her as a mother, and that troubled him. He didn't like having preconceived notions about people he'd never met. Being who he was - what he was - he tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, which was what he hoped they'd give him and his family. But it was difficult in this case. He cracked a little half-smile as he passed Alice's closed door, listening to his daughter's chatter and Bella's hesitant laugh. He didn't like this talk about a panic attack, and he wished someone had called him; he could probably have managed to come home early. But what's done was done, and he had a job to do now.

Firmly closing the door behind him, Carlisle crossed to his desk. He fished Renee's number out of his pocket and dialed.

She picked up on the sixth ring with a curious, "Hello?"

"Mrs. Dwyer?"

"Yes?"

Carlisle knew he was not the judge of character that Jasper was, or Edward. He felt adrift in this conversation already, and they'd barely begun to speak. Her voice was so light, so carefree - so different from Bella's smoky, heavy tones that he wondered briefly whether he was, in fact, speaking to the right person.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you," he said, putting on his best professional voice, "but are you the mother of a seventeen-year-old girl named Isabella Swan?"

"Who is this?" Renee demanded, her voice suddenly turning suspicious.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen, from the Forks town hospital," Carlisle answered, feeling no urge to lie.

"Look," Renee said, and he heard the sound of a squeaky door opening. Suddenly the other end of the line was awash in background noise - music, loud bad music, and a cacophony of voices. Had she just entered a bar? It seemed likely. "Dr. Cullen, my ex-husband deals with all that now. Why aren't you calling him?"

"I've already spoken with Chief Swan." Carlisle scowled at the title. He hoped Charlie wouldn't stay police chief long. "Now I need to hear from you. You're Bella's mother."

"I know I'm her mother," Renee said irritably. "I took care of the girl for sixteen years or whatever. Now it's her dad's turn. She said she wanted to go. God alone knows why - I couldn't stand living in that moldy old town."

Carlisle didn't comment about how he and his family currently did live in that moldy old town,' but he did take note that she didn't offer any apology for her slur. "She said she wanted to live with him? When was that?"

"Are you with CPS?" Renee asked suspiciously. "Should I be remembering dates? Because I told them before, when she was just a kid, that I don't do that. I can't remember whether yesterday was the seventeenth or the twentieth, most of the time. I'm supposed to date stamp every time my kid says something to me?"

"I'm not with CPS," Carlisle said, though at the moment he wished he had that kind of authority. "I'm just trying to get some facts straight. There are discrepancies in her medical files." That wasn't perhaps entirely honest, but he hoped Renee wouldn't question it.

She didn't. "I don't know when she said it. I can't give you a date. It was around the time Phil and I bought the RV."

Several things became clearer with that comment, particularly Bella's previous words about how she didn't know where her mother was. "Mrs. Dwyer," he pressed, "may I ask where you are?"

"Bob's Cantina, Jacksonville, Florida," Renee answered readily. "They have a killer tequila here - one hundred percent blue agave. And no worm."

Florida. About as far away from Forks as it was possible to get. Carlisle mentally shook his head. "Mrs. Dwyer," he tried again, "I'm trying to get some information for Bella's records. That's all. Can you tell me if you ever noticed anything unusual around the time Bella left for a visit to Charlie, or returned from one? Anything at all?"

"That kid is completely unusual." Carlisle heard the clink of ice against a glass. As far as he knew you didn't drink tequila on the rocks, so he had no idea what exactly Renee was doing. "What's the word her English teacher used? Taciturn? I don't know what that means, but Bella's moody. She's always been a little emo kid. A pain. Never could just let go and relax, have fun. Not Bella. Always cleaning the house, cooking shit. Always asking questions. Doing extra work. Do you know she wanted to take some sort of special classes last year? Said she could get college credit for high school work. I told her absolutely not, especially with the price of the tests she'd have to take at the end of the year. What kid does that?"

"Plenty of high schoolers participate in the AP program, Mrs. Dwyer," Carlisle said, trying to remain calm. He wasn't sure he would ever get the information he wanted from her, but he was getting a pretty clear picture of Bella's home life in Phoenix. "You didn't notice anything when she left for Forks, then? Or returned?"

He could almost hear Renee's impatient shrug, could almost see the faceless woman sitting at a seedy bar, a drink in her hand, her phone tucked against her shoulder. "No, nothing. Look, she never seemed that interested in daddy time before, okay? But what kid is? Who'd be excited about spending the summer in the rain? So that's why it kind of surprised me that she wanted to go live with him. But she's a stubborn kid, and she'd made up her mind. Phil and I would have taken her with us. I told her I could home school her, that we could make it work. The couch in the RV is plenty comfortable to sleep on."

Carlisle had heard enough. He didn't want to talk to Renee anymore, didn't want to dig further when digging seemed to get him nowhere. She didn't have the information he wanted - either that, or she was playing dumb. Either way, he was done. He bid Bella's mother goodbye, collected a reticent Edward, and headed back downstairs.

"Found anything?"

Rose mumbled a little thinking noise. "If by anything' you mean that Bella's seventeenth birthday was last week. Who wants to bet nobody did anything for her?"

"None of us celebrate birthdays, Rosie."

Rose glared at Emmett out of the corner of her eye without raising her head. "That's because there's no point. We don't change. Why celebrate another year of endless life?"

"We do change, Rosalie," Carlisle interjected gently. "Not physically, maybe, but we still grow and learn. Our opinions and emotions shift; we gain insight and cast off what we used to think we knew. We are not static."

"Do you think we should have a belated party for her?" Esme asked, her voice a little hesitant.

"No."

Everyone turned to Edward, and Carlisle raised an eyebrow at him. Edward scowled at them all. How could they even think something like that was a good idea? Couldn't they see how much Bella disliked being the center of attention?

"Why not, son?" Carlisle finally asked, his voice carefully neutral. "It seems like a good way to make her feel appreciated."

"Embarrassed, you mean." Edward shook his head. "Have any of you spent any time around her at all? She hates all that attention. All you'll do is alienate her."

"I agree with Edward," Rose said slowly. She looked carefully at him, her face an unreadable mask and her thoughts a running list of the parts of a V8 engine, in alphabetical order. He hated when his family blocked him like that. "She's too shy to enjoy a big fuss. But a little something probably wouldn't hurt, I think."

"How little?" Esme asked, with a glance upstairs that nobody had to question. If they were seriously considering doing something small to celebrate Bella's birthday, that required reining in Alice. No small feat at the best of times, and this one concerned the girl Alice hoped would become her sister someday.

"Cake?" Rosalie suggested. "Maybe a family activity? No presents - Edward's right. They'd just make her uncomfortable."

"And it's not like we could sit down for a big family dinner," Edward muttered darkly.

"Edward," Carlisle admonished gently.

"No music," Edward said, and it sounded like an order. "No dancing. No fancy clothes. No pranks, no singing Happy Birthday."

"And no presents," Rosalie reinforced.

"Alice isn't going to like this," Jasper sing-songed, though it hardly needed to be said. Alice certainly wasn't going to like it at all. But Edward was firm, and he was glad he had Rose on his side for this fight. Esme and Carlisle also seemed to understand. Emmett had whined in his head at the no pranks' and no singing Happy Birthday' rules, but Edward hardly cared. The important thing was making sure Bella felt comfortable, and the kind of big party Alice excelled at planning would not please the shy human girl at all. Alice would just have to live with it.

"Did you learn anything else from her files?" Carlisle asked, changing the subject smoothly.

Emmett grimaced and threw down the sheaf he was holding. "Probably nothing new," he said running a hand through his curly hair. "The poor kid hasn't been to see a dentist since she knocked a few baby teeth out when she was eight." He glanced at Edward, who had narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Playground accident at school. Seems legit; you can look for yourself."

Edward thought about it, but declined his brother's offer. He didn't think it was the best idea for him to be snooping in Bella's medical records. It was fine for the rest of the family if Carlisle thought it would be useful, but for himself Edward didn't want to see proof of her pain set down in black and white. It would only serve to make him madder, and he didn't need more fuel for his anger.

"She's not up to date on her immunizations," Rose intoned, taking up the narrative. "About the only time she saw the doctor in Phoenix was when she hurt herself - no checkups or anything. Strains and sprains mostly, but she's broken her left tibia and dislocated both shoulders multiple times."

"Poor kid." Jasper shook his head. "And she had to deal with that monster of a father on top of her own clumsiness. It's a wonder she's not in a wheelchair by now."

"I say any injury that happened here in Forks is suspect," Rose said. "There's excuses for all of them, and not just the usual fell down the stairs' bullshit. But who can say? He's the chief of police. If anyone knows how to cover up child abuse, it would be him."

"Edward," Jasper said suddenly, his head cocked to the side as if he were listening for something, "Bella wants you."

Edward was on his feet in an instant, fear rushing to his heart. Alice's thoughts were still racing happily along, but -

"It's okay, she's not panicking again," Jasper soothed. "She's just had as much Alice as she can stand for now, and she needs a way out. She's wishing for you."

"Go on, son," Carlisle said with a small smile. "Play her some music or something - something calming. We'll explain to Alice about the party. Bring Bella in to us when she's calm again, and we can talk about our options for the future."

Edward couldn't get out of the room fast enough, and he barreled up the stairs. With an impatient knock on Alice's door, he was moments from seeing his Bella again, and he almost couldn't stand the suspense. He could smell the warm, living scent of her through the closed door, and yearned to have her in his arms again, where he could see and feel her as well.

Alice opened the door in a huff, belying her own impatience with his interruption. But Edward couldn't care less about Alice's mood, and he peered around his sister, looking for the velvet-eyed beauty who had captured his heart.

"Carlisle wants to see you downstairs," he told his sister without looking in her eyes. He was still upset with her over the earlier panic attack, and knew that he would be for a while. A century had given him plenty of time to admit to his own faults, and he knew that he was both quick to anger and slow to forgive. These were not admirable traits, but neither were they ones he could control, particularly where Bella was concerned. Any harm to her was unforgivable in his eyes.

Alice glanced over her shoulder questioningly, but Edward waved her away. "I'll take care of her," he said, trying to tamp down his impatience long enough to get Alice out of the picture.

"If you say so," Alice said, sounding unsure. She turned and smiled at Bella. "I'll be back soon."

She wouldn't, if Edward had any say in the matter. He didn't say so, though, as Alice scampered down the stairs, leaving him alone with Bella.

She was sitting amid the headache-inducing riot of Alice's room, wearing the same clothes that she'd had on before. Edward raised an eyebrow, impressed. That might be a first for someone on whom Alice wished to bestow a makeover. Her hair had been combed until it shone like a dark waterfall struck with hints of red, and Alice had done something to make her eyes appear hooded and smoky. There was no need to apply a coat of foundation - Bella's porcelain complexion was perfect without it. Her nails had been painted a pale pink that matched the glossy shine of her lips.

She shifted on the edge of Alice's bed, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. Abashed, Edward held out an inquiring hand. Bella stared at it for a long minute before she stood, crossing to him and taking it.

"You're my guardian angel in more ways than one, it seems," she said quietly, and her sweet, low voice held a hint of fun.

"Mm," Edward acknowledged. "Seems I didn't get to you quite in time." He examined her nails. It wasn't the worst color in the world, but he disliked the non-natural texture and smell. At least she was sensible and kept her nails clipped short.

"Yeah," Bella agreed, a little pink touching her cheeks. "I'm not much for all this primping, but it meant so much to Alice."

"You know, it's good for her not to get her way all the time." Edward pulled ever so gently, easing her out of Alice's room and shutting the door on that headache of color and texture. "It won't kill her if you tell her no."

"I know." Bella took an extra step before stopping, which brought her within a breath of touching him. Edward closed his eyes and breathed, relishing the sweet torture of having her so very close. "But I like making people happy."

And do you count as people? Edward wanted to ask, but he didn't. He suspected that it wasn't a terribly nice question. Not to mention that he was a little afraid to hear the answer.

"I like making you happy," he said instead, pitching his voice to a low, sweet tone that he hoped would help to not embarrass her at his words. Her face touched with pink anyway, regardless of how he spoke. It was incredibly fetching, how responsive she was. "What can I do to make you happy, Bella?"

She was quiet for a long minute, and Edward waited with as much patience as he could muster. He heard the murmur of his family's quiet voices downstairs, too far for Bella's human ears to pick up, and knew by their thoughts that they hadn't broken the news about the non-party to Alice yet. He hoped she would take it gracefully; he didn't want any shrieks of disappointment potentially upsetting Bella. The slender human girl stood so close to him that he could feel the heat of her skin, though their only contact was loosely-clasped hands. Her breathing quickened as she thought, and in that moment, as she stood torn between decisions, Edward wished more than anything that he could read her mind. She took another breath and held it in for a long moment, moving slowly but decisively into his arms.

He could never deny her the need to be held, and as her warm body came to rest against his it felt as if a missing piece of himself suddenly clicked into place. It was warm and sweet, utterly innocent - and home. For the first time that he could remember - perhaps the first time ever - Edward felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. She was breathing fast still, quick little panting breaths that let him know her mind was still working over some difficult topics. A decision had been made, but she was gathering the courage to continue acting on it. That much was clear to him even without access to her inner monologue. Trying to steady her and fulfill his own need, he slid his arms firmly around her, drawing her close against him. She bowed her head, resting her forehead against his shoulder and inhaling deeply. Edward felt the movement of her whole body accepting that breath, and it stirred something inside him, something that quivered as it woke and spilled through him. God, he wanted her. And it wasn't the blood-crazed monster this time - not at the forefront, anyway. This was something different, something raw and...not exactly new, but something he hadn't felt for a long, long time, and never so strongly. Never had pure desire filled him the way it did with Bella.

But even that shifted into second place as Bella raised her dark, haunted eyes to his. He could still see the uncertainty warring in those murky depths, and it hurt that there was still hesitation where he was concerned. But there was nothing he could do about it - he and his family had not put that doubt there; her father had. And Edward knew he'd do everything he possibly could to erase it.

"I..." She trailed off after only one slow syllable, biting her lower lip again. The hesitation showed clearly all over her face, though her body molded sweetly to his, soft and pliant. She didn't fear him, but she was mistrustful of something. Possibly herself, and that hurt Edward more than he knew how to convey.

"You're safe here, sweetheart," Edward whispered, running a fingertip along a shining strand of hair. "You can say whatever you like." He smiled, knowing it came out lopsided. "Please?"

Her cheeks turned pink again and stayed that way as he brought a hand up and tugged her lower lip away from her teeth for the second time. "No one's ever asked me what I thought before."

Edward felt a stab of pain, almost as if Emmett had rammed him in the gut. He hated when she admitted things like that, but he had asked. And talking was probably good for her - wasn't that what they did in therapy or whatever? Just sat around and talked? And these were big admissions Bella was making; it made him want to reciprocate. Show her she was trusted in return. "I can read minds," he said softly, before he had even decided he was going to speak.

Her big doe-like eyes did not register surprise as she calmly accepted his admission. "Can you?" She sounded a little intrigued, but neither doubtful nor afraid.

Edward nodded, stroking her jaw gently with his thumb. Her bone structure was so delicate, the lines sweepingly lovely. He figured that if he knew anything about visual art - painting and whatever - he'd be able to describe it better, but he didn't. Maybe he'd learn, just for that reason. "It gets noisy sometimes. Some people's thoughts are so loud, so incessant, that it's almost impossible to block them out."

"That must be hard." Bella reached up a hesitant hand, tracing the line of one eyebrow before weaving her fingers through his hair, caressing the bronzed strands. "Do you get a lot of headaches?"

God, her hands in his hair. He bit back a groan of pleasure, and had to physically restrain himself from either kissing her senseless or putting as much distance between them as possible. Standing there and letting her comb her fingers agonizingly slowly through his hair was sheer, unadulterated torture. And yet he was amazed that she'd somehow turned the conversation around so that it was no longer about her. Oh, he'd started with a comment about himself, but this wasn't what he meant to do. She probably didn't even know she'd done it, either.

"Some," he acknowledged, determined to return the subject to its proper place: her. "But that wasn't what I was getting at."

"No?" Bella's gaze flicked to his, but it was clear to him that she was also distracted by her hands stroking through his tousled hair. He couldn't express how happy that made him; she could play with his hair all she wanted, as far as he was concerned. Providing, of course, that she did so in private, away from the prying eyes of his family. He had no wish to start fucking purring in front of his family, which he had no doubt would happen if she kept this up.

"No," he assured her. "You said no one's ever asked you for your thoughts before?"

"Never."

"Well, I don't usually have to ask people for them, either. But you're a mystery, Bella Swan. From you I get...nothing." This was hard to admit, and Edward was afraid he wasn't doing very well. "Your mind is as closed to me as...as mine would be to anyone else." He smiled at her calm, curious eyes. "So I apologize if I come across - I don't know. Rude? Or prying? I'm just not used to having to ask all the time." Edward moved his thumb, unable to help himself. He traced the tempting curve of her lower lip, silken and ever so slightly wet in the little dimple where her teeth had bitten. "But I'm glad, I think, now that I know you've never been asked before. That's not right, you know. To not feel free to express yourself."

Bella shrugged noncommittally, nervousness returning to her limbs and eyes as the conversation shifted. Edward had known his final comment would probably have that effect, but he'd felt compelled to say it anyway. It was true, and she needed to hear it.

"So will you tell me, then? What you were thinking before?" He tried for an encouraging smile. "I believe you were about to tell me what I can do to make you happy."

She shook her head, and her lip went between her teeth again. Edward wanted to roll his eyes. It was an impossibly cute habit, but also so very dangerous. If she should manage to draw blood... "That's not it," she said quietly.

"Ah." This time his smile was real. "See? There's proof that I can't read your mind, in case you needed it."

The smile she returned made his proverbial heart stop. It wasn't big, but it was so beautiful. It shone, glittering like sunlight on the rippled water of a summer lake, like he remembered Lake Michigan glittering as a child.

"So beautiful," he murmured, unable to help himself. He was completely entranced by her; she absolutely shone. Never mind the angry bruise that marred one cheek, or the others he could see peeking out from the too-big sleeves of her giant t-shirt. They would fade. This sort of beauty would not.

Bella ducked her head again when he spoke, burying her face against his shoulder. He hauled her close, tightening his arms in a hug before gentling his hold. He could feel the heat of her blush against his skin, and it fascinated him.

They stood like that for several minutes, Edward perfectly content to let Bella remain in his arms as long as she wanted. She sighed against him, her breath brushing tantalizingly against his chest. "I was going to say that I'm not entirely sure what happy means. I mean, to other people, you know? It's just so subjective..."

Edward ran a hand through the dark silk of her hair. "Come with me?"

She followed him readily into Carlisle's office; Carlisle wouldn't mind if they talked in there, where she could sit comfortably. Edward knew any of the bedrooms would probably make her feel too awkward. Plus, he wanted her to feel like her room here was her own, and she was free to invite people in or lock them out as she pleased. He didn't know, but he could guess that she probably wasn't used to that sort of privacy, or autonomy. And Edward knew, perhaps better than anyone, how precious privacy could be.

"This is Carlisle's office," Edward said as he led her in.

"Will he be mad that we're in here?"

"No." He offered her an armchair upholstered in dark brown suede. She stroked it softly as he pulled another chair over. "We all use it from time to time, when we need space but don't want to be in our bedrooms. The office is sacrosanct; it's a quiet place for thinking or whatever."

Bella smiled again; she seemed to be doing that more often lately, and Edward hoped it would continue. Those smiles melted him. "I like that," she murmured, still stroking the sleek arm of the chair. "A room for thinking, for discussion."

"I'm glad." Edward sat, wishing he dared to drag his chair even closer, but not wanting to make her uncomfortable. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Though the words slipped easily from her mouth, they didn't sound terribly confident.

"You said you didn't know what happy meant to other people?"

Bella nodded.

"Tell me, then, Bella, what you'd normally consider a happy day in Forks for you."

"Seriously?"

"I'm always serious." His voice came out perhaps a little more solemn than he meant; Bella did not laugh.

"I believe you," she said. Her face grew thoughtful, and after a moment she spoke again. "I guess...a perfect Forks day..." She let out a long breath. "Charlie's gone when I get up. My homework's all finished, so I don't have to rush through anything in the morning. My truck starts on the first try, and the heater works so I'm not frozen when I get to school."

Edward tried to hide a smile. He knew Rosalie was adamant about no presents, but he was determined now that Bella have a more reliable vehicle. And soon. He wondered whether Rose would consent to a more permanent sort of disabling of that rusted behemoth of a truck.

"There are no pop quizzes, and if I get called on, I can answer from my seat instead of having to go to the board. There's a substitute in gym, so we don't have to dress down and I can spend the class period reading in the bleachers."

At that, Edward could no longer hide his smile. "That bad, huh?"

"I'm pretty awful," Bella admitted, her face turning red again. "And those slippery gym floors are the opposite of helpful." She thought some more. "My teachers don't assign much daily homework, so I have plenty of time to work on long-term projects when I get home. Charlie comes home from work alone, with no friends."

Her voice faltered, and Edward immediately sat up a little straighter, scrutinizing her face. "Why's that?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to pry into something that might provoke another panic attack, but wondering why friends of Charlie's would be so bad. "Seems to me if there were other people around he might be nicer. For show, if nothing else."

Bella refused to look at him. Her hands lay clenched in her lap, her knuckles white as she squeezed her fingers together. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Her voice was a ghost.

Edward was out of his chair in an instant, kneeling before her, trying to catch her eye. He put a cold hand over hers, stroking her tense fingers gently. "Sweetheart," he said, trying to pitch his voice to something calm. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. It's okay, Bella. You don't have to say any more. And whatever happened, it's never going to happen again."

She shook her head, still refusing to look at him. "You can't promise that." Her voice was as tight as her grip. "He's my legal guardian. I have to go back, and everything will be exactly as it was before."

"No, Bella." Edward felt panic rise through his body. "You're not going back."

She didn't answer, but she did take a deep breath, which he thought was probably a good thing. And then, very slowly, she turned her hand over, so it was palm to palm with his. Edward slid his fingers around hers, her small hand slipping easily into his grasp.

"That's what I would have said a perfect day in Forks was, a couple of days ago."

Her voice was so soft that Edward wasn't entirely sure he'd heard it at first. She still refused to look at him.

"Now everything is different."

"Different how?" he asked, hardly daring to.

Finally, finally, she raised her eyes to his. They looked neither shy nor hesitant, though they were incredibly serious. "You want to make me happy, Edward?"

"More than anything."

She slid out of the suede chair, dropping to her knees against him. Her arms settled around his shoulders, and he found his own hands spanning her waist, holding her close. She didn't break eye contact. "Promise me something."

"Anything."

"You'll keep yourself and your family safe." She shook her head, a seam of bright fear running through the depths of her dark eyes. "Don't let Charlie hurt you - any of you, in any way. You're all too good for that. I know you're not normal. I know you have a secret, and I don't care. It doesn't change the fact that you're good people - wonderful people. Please. Please promise me."

Edward didn't know what to say. This not reading minds thing was making him slow; he hadn't expected any of what she said.

"And one more thing?"

"What?" He hoped this one would be easier.

"Kiss me?"

Next chapter: The Kiss, The Talk, and maybe even some surprises!