Disclaimer: If I owned Twilight I'd probably post a bunch of fanfiction just because I could. But I don't, and I post fanfiction because these damn characters need to get out of my head.

Trigger warning (and possible spoiler): There is a brief reference to human trafficking in this chapter. I'll put a "tw" in the page break before the mention.

Chapter 9

"Listen, Charlie," I said before I sat down, trying to keep my voice even, "I want to help you, I really do, but unless you can give me something I'm walking the fuck out and I'm not coming back. I don't give a shit if you know my address or have my grandfather's phone number or whatever. You can tell me your story or you can consider this our last little get together."

"What's the matter, Izzy? You don't trust me?" Charlie didn't look up from her phone.

I snorted, "I'm not the one with trust issues, sweetheart."

Charlie put her phone on the table and looked up, raising one eyebrow, "You didn't answer the question."

I huffed and slid opposite Charlie and into the booth, "You've given me no reason to trust you, Charlie. You haven't even given me your name."

Charlie shrugged and smirked, "It's an embarrassing name, I try to avoid using it as much as I can." She then bent over and reached into her messenger bag, pulling out a very large and very full manila folder and throwing it onto the table with a loud thump.

"Don't say I never give you anything," she muttered and then leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and examining me closely.

I didn't hesitate – I reached forward quickly and grabbed the folder.

The first page was a copy of a birth certificate under Bree's name. The next was a photocopy of a passport. After that it was page after page of incredible, vital, confidential information – school records, phone records, emails, facebook messages, bank statements, text messages….

"How did you get all this?" I breathed.

"I've been working on this for a while," Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, but her eyes were troubled.

"How long is a while?"

Charlie looked out the window to her right and fiddled with one of the many bohemian bracelets adorning her wrist, "About four weeks."

I swallowed audibly and tried to collect my thoughts, "Why…" I hesitated. I didn't want to accuse Charlie of anything, but I needed the answer to this question. I carefully closed the folder and put it down between us.

"Why did you wait four weeks before asking for help, Charlie?"

She didn't look away from the window, but I noticed her breathing increased, the condensation on the glass was coming in faster bursts. I waited almost a whole minute but it became clear to me that Charlie wasn't going to answer – either because she didn't want to or because she didn't have a good enough response.

I nodded, even though she wasn't facing me, and reached back out to grab the folder, "Can I keep this?" I asked.

She nodded, and I stood from the booth and quickly stashed the folder in my own bag.

"I'm going to need some time to go over all this," I patted my bag, "and decide what exactly it is I can do to help. I'll see you next week, same time."

She finally turned and faced me, lips turned down and brows furrowed in an angry line, "Why do you need a whole week?"

"I have a day job, Charlie," I replied simply but patiently.

"So?"

"So if you want me to find Bree without alerting my boss I'm going to need to do this outside of work and that won't be easy."

She scowled, but nodded her acquiescence, "You better be here next week," she tried to sound forceful, but I detected the slight tremor in her voice.

I forced my tone to be light, "I think I know better than to try and run away from you, Charlie."

The corner of her lip jumped up in a half smirk.

I mirrored her expression, "See you in a week."

000 tw

I was way out of my depth here. I was possibly dealing with an abduction, which would be difficult enough with a team working with me, but to do this on my own and with very little resources available was almost impossible.

The other possibility was terrifying and something I wasn't sure I was capable of even thinking about.

From a kidnapping perspective, it didn't really make sense; Bree came from a foster home and didn't have any family or many friends, so kidnapping for ransom seemed out of the question. From what I could gather from her emails and messages Bree was single and hadn't been in any serious relationships which made it unlikely that revenge had been a motivator. That left the question; if Bree wasn't abducted for ransom or revenge, then why was she taken? Maybe she'd witnessed a crime? But there was no record of her reporting anything to the police, which is why her name wasn't in our database when I'd tried to search her.

That left the other possibility – the possibility that made my stomach turn and my skin crawl.

Bree wasn't anything of importance, not connected with anyone powerful and didn't appear to associate with anyone dangerous. But she did have something else to offer to an abductor: Her body. Which meant that I was most likely deal with human trafficking – something I was wholly unequipped and unqualified to deal with. Before Bree's disappearance, and less than a year after she'd moved from Ohio, she received a number of emails inviting her to undertake a paid internship as part of her criminology degree – an internship she hadn't applied for. According to the files Charlie had given me, Bree hadn't contacted the outside world after the interview she'd had for the internship.

I'd heard of this before – everyone had; young girls from out of town being offered jobs that seemed too good to be true before being abducted and sold off as slaves.

It was horrible and disgusting and an unfortunate reality, and ordinarily I would send the evidence off to the Department of Homeland Security. But there was just one problem – the emails being sent to Bree came from our precinct.

I had been poring over the documents Charlie gave me for the past four days – I'd stayed back at work every night so I'd have access to the systems without the risk of one of my colleagues looking over my shoulder. My efforts had been fruitless; I was no closer to figuring out what happened to Bree than I was when I first read the documents. Whoever organised this didn't leave any clues – they didn't accidently drop a name or a personal email address or a phone number. There wasn't even any evidence of an internship being offered by the precinct. This person, whoever they were, covered their tracks well.

Of course they did, they're probably a fucking police officer.

I groaned and banged my head on the table in the break room. It was 9p.m., Thursday night. Everyone was long gone and I was impatiently waiting for the water in the kettle to boil while I willed my brain to come up with some brilliant idea that would magically solved this whole issue.

I heard movement behind me. Assuming it was the night crew coming in to grab something I just ignored it, continuing to lightly bang my head on the table. I need a drink.

The sound of movement behind me became louder, and I sat up and turned just in time to see Edward walk in to the break room – completely dishevelled but still delicious in a black leather jacket and tight black jeans.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was low and lacked any real surprise or confusion.

"Working late."

He nodded, though he didn't look like he was actually paying any attention to my answer, and walked over to take the seat opposite me. He leaned far back in his chair and looked towards the ceiling, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and sighing heavily. His whole body was tight with tension and rigid in a way I'd never seen before.

The quiet click of the kettle made me jump slightly (I inwardly berated myself) and I quickly stood to pour myself a coffee.

"Want some?" I offered without turning towards him.

"You got anything stronger?" He asked roughly.

I paused, but grabbed a second mug for him.

"You get green tea," I handed it to him while clutching my own steaming mug and taking my seat.

Edward chuckled humourlessly and shook his head slightly, but tentatively took a sip from the mug anyway. It was then that I noticed a light smear of blood on his hand.

"Edward," I tried to keep my voice quiet and calm, "Are you hurt?"

He kept his eyes on the mug in his hands – looking, but not really seeing.

He replied with a flat, emotionless, "no," and took a greater gulp from his mug.

I observed him for a moment. It was a very rare opportunity, to be able to look at him without the risk of his sharp, quick, disarming eyes looking right back at me. I hated the way he looked now – forlorn and broken and sad. It so completely contrasted with the Edward I knew – the one full of life and joy and a child-like energy and a bad sense of humour. He wasn't my Edward right now and I couldn't stand it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked quietly.

He didn't speak; his eyes remained on his tea and his expression remained blank, albeit a little pained. I didn't push, but just waited. Though I didn't know him well, I knew him well enough to know that he would speak when he was ready, and wouldn't respond well to force.

He finally spoke, "Kate got hurt." Against my better instincts, I opened my mouth to speak, but Edward quickly cut me off, "She's fine. It's nothing serious. She…" he took a steadying breath and looked up at me, his eyes full of sorrow and anger and it took my own breath away, "We were working on a drug bust and she took a hit to the shoulder. I didn't…I couldn't help her. I should've…" He let out a shaky breath and looked back down at his mug, though I could still see the light sheen of tears in his eyes. I felt my own heart break for him, because I knew – I knew so fucking well – what that guilt felt like; how it crept up your neck and settled in your stomach and invaded your every private thought until you were drowning in it.

"Do you want me to distract you?" I asked softly.

It took him a few seconds, but he eventually gave me a slow, single nod.

I inhaled slowly and then, in a move too quick for him to react, took Edward's hand from his mug and placed it gently on my chest.

His head snapped back up and his wide eyes met mine, "What are you doing?" He asked incredulously.

"Distracting you," I replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, though I was really trying to focus on keeping my breathing steady and my heartbeat slow. It wasn't working as well as I hoped.

"With your boob?" His voice was still shocked, though there was a hint of humour in it now.

I ignored him, even though his hand was technically on my boob and oh my Lord his hand was so warm and I wanted to move it lower and feel it underneath my shirt and…

I cleared my throat, "Focus on my heartbeat, all right? Try to focus on the rhythm and match your breathing to it."

Edward's brow furrowed slightly and an adorable pout graced his lips, "It's going a little fast…"

I tightened my grip on my hand and let out a shaky chuckle, "Maybe don't match your breathing to it until it slows down. Did I ever tell you I tried to paint my goldfish once?"

He smiled and shook his head, penetrating green eyes focused on me.

"I wanted a purple fish, but my…" I faltered for a second and swallowed; "My dad said they were too expensive because you had to get a fancy filter system or something. Anyway, I thought it would be a good idea to put some purple food dye into my fish bowl so that my goldfish would at least look purple."

Edward's smile widened, and I noticed his chest was rising and falling in time with my now steady heartbeat, "Did it work?"

"I put too much and my fish died. I cried for a week."

He laughed, "How old were you?"

"Seven. Emmett poisoned his own fish so that I wouldn't feel so sad, and then I refused to speak to him for a month." He threw his head back and laughed louder and I chuckled along with him.

"Ten years later Emmett got me a purple Siamese Fighting fish."

"And what happened to it?"

"It died because I didn't use the right water conditioner," I bit my lip to contain my giggles, but Edward still shook with laughter. We finally quietened and Edward's broad grin reduced to a small smile. We stared at each other in silence, and I was once again lost in the green of his eyes – those eyes that reminded me so much of the trees of Forks. I could almost hear the rain against the roof, could almost smell the morning dew, could almost feel the moisture on my skin.

"You're pretty good at this, you know?" He looked much calmer, his eyes were still a little broken and troubled, but his expression had smoothed out, the wrinkle between his brows disappearing.

I cocked my head, "Good at what?"

"The whole friend thing," He smiled tenderly and I felt my heartbeat pick up again, so I loosened my grip on Edward's hand and prayed he didn't notice the acceleration.

"I thought we were best friends," I teased, letting out a shaky laugh.

He didn't. "Maybe one day," he said seriously, "when you trust me enough to talk to me."

"I talk to you." I replied defensively, automatically.

Edward smiled sadly at me, and I felt his thumb gently, slowly, tenderly move up and down on my chest, right over my heart. It pounded impossibly faster, as though it were anxious to be closer to his touch, not wanting to waste a single moment away from his gentle caress.

A whisper, "One day, Bella."

000

The squad went to visit Kate at the hospital the next day during our lunch break. She looked ridiculously happy for someone that had just been shot.

"I've got a fucking scar on my fucking shoulder!" She pulled down her gown to reveal the harsh, freshly stitched lines, "How fucking cool is that?" I couldn't tell if it was the painkillers making her this exuberant, or if it was all Kate.

After reassuring us again and again that she was fine and comfortable but "so fucking hungry I could swallow a fucking horse whole," we all left and lazily made our way across the street.

James lit a cigarette as soon as he was out of the hospital and walked ahead of the group, studiously ignoring everyone.

"Detective Daniels!" I called out, half-jogging to catch up with him. He stopped abruptly and turned to face me, his eyes narrowed into slits. He didn't say anything, but turned and kept walking, albeit at a slower pace.

"Daniels," I said again after I'd caught up with him, "The Sergeant tells me you might need a profile?" My voice came out unsure and hesitant – something about James made me nervous.

"Nope," was his reply, cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth as he spoke.

"Well, he said you had a few cases that appeared to be connected and you'd benefit from a psych evaluation."

"Well," he mocked, "the Sergeant was wrong," he answered coldly and increased his pace.

I had to jog to keep up with his long, quick strides, "That's something you have to take up with him. Will you let me do my job?"

James stopped abruptly and grabbed my bicep. I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong, I could feel his short nails digging into my skin. With his other hand James ripped the cigarette from his mouth, then leaned in close and blew the cancerous smoke in my face. I resisted the urge to cough and instead returned his cold look with my own glare.

"You sure you'll find time in between sucking Cullen's cock?" he spoke lowly and through narrowed lips while I blanched at his accusation. He looked me up and down, lingering on my breasts and the exposed skin on my neck, "Sluts like you always did get him hard."

He let go of my upper arm, threw the still lit cigarette at my feet, and marched away from me.

I glared after him, my ears burning and my breaths coming quickly – quicker than I realised.

"Hey," I heard a velvety voice from behind me, "Is everything okay?"

"What the fuck is his problem?" I spat, not bothering to lower my voice.

I expected Edward to chuckle or make a joke, but when I was met with silence I turned to my right to face him. He was also staring after James, his eyes troubled and his hand in his coppery hair.

"What is it?" I asked, confused.

His eyes shot to me, "What's what?"

I gestured to his hand, which was still combing through his hair, "You do that when you're nervous."

Edward shook his hand and lowered his hand, scratching his right cheek.

"And you do that," I pointed to his cheek, "When you're deciding whether or not to tell me something."

He rolled his eyes, "What are you, the fucking Mentalist? That shit's creepy, Swan."

I shrugged, but allowed myself a smug grin, my mood instantly lifting in his presence.

Edward crinkled his nose, but l waited for him to say something first, refusing to give in. He finally sighed and tilted his head towards the precinct and we continued walking.

"It's a…strange story. And this isn't the right place. What are you doing tonight?"

I tried to hide my surprise, though I'm not sure how successful I was. After our…intimate moment last night I was worried things between Edward and I would be awkward. And they were at first, but then Edward threw a stress ball at my chest and told me to "chill out," and we'd moved on.

Still, I was a little nervous about being alone with him again. I didn't trust myself not to do something stupid.

"I have some errands to run." I blurted out.

Edward raised his brow and smiled bemusedly, "Errands to run?"

"Mhmm," I mumbled.

Edward's eyes narrowed, "You know, you bite the inside of your lip when you're lying."

Fuck, he was right.

I released my lip from my teeth, "I really do have shit to do, though."

"It's cool, Swan. My heart will survive your rejection." He playfully pushed me and I couldn't help but smile in response.

"Any plans for this weekend?" I asked casually.

Edward shrugged, "Might visit the parents. I haven't seen them for a while. You?"

"It's a bit early for me to meet your parents, isn't it?"

He rolled his eyes, "You're a bit of a dork, Swan."

I grinned broadly, "Thanks!"

Edward shook his head and chuckled, studying me and tilting his head slightly, "You're in a good mood today."

I frowned, "Am I?"

We entered the station and made our way through the hallway and to our desks.

"You can't tell whether or not you're in a good mood?" Edward teased.

I opened my mouth to respond but quickly closed it. Was I in a good mood? I was making conversation, joking around with Edward, engaging in a little harmless flirting… Truthfully, I'd never felt more normal and at ease than I had today. It was worrying and exciting and so wonderful and I wanted everything to be this easy all the time.

But then I was reminded of why it wasn't easy, and then the guilt and loss crept back in again. It tended to do that during these unguarded moments – the times I felt almost normal and almost happy.

Charlie wouldn't want this, I tried to tell myself. Daddy wouldn't want this. He'd want you to be happy and free of all this guilt. He wouldn't want you to live with this blame. He'd want you to let go.

And I tried, and while the pain and guilt weren't as intense as they usually were, they were still there. I wanted to feel numb and empty again, but I knew that putting on a mask wasn't fair – it wasn't fair to my colleagues and it wasn't fair to Emmett. I'd promised him I'd try. You weren't expecting to feel better overnight, were you?

But with Edward…damn it; being with Edward just made me forget. He lifted the pressure from my chest and I was able to breathe when I was around him. He didn't have to do anything – he didn't sit there and listen to my problems or push me until I talked or tip toed around me. He was just so normal around me, and I didn't realise how badly I needed normal until he'd given it to me.

"Hey," he said gently, his face troubled. He moved his chair closer to mine – when did I get to my desk? – and leaned towards me, "Did I say something?"

If I were the Bella Swan that had first come to New York, I would've shrugged him off and turned back to do my work.

I was quickly realising that I was no longer that Bella Swan. I wasn't the old Bella Swan either – I was something different and confusing and new, and I hadn't quite figured her out yet.

"No," I replied to Edward, who looked worried at my silence, "I'm fine. But I wanted to ask…"

"Yes?" He looked eager and moved in closer. I could smell the soapy scent of his laundry detergent and something else – something that was a mixture of cinnamon and the smell of grass right after rain and Edward.

"Do you want to come to the pet store with me tonight?"

000

Edward somehow managed to get us out of work early so we could get to the pet store before it closed.

"Why did you take so long with Aro?" I asked as we made our way to the parking garage.

Edward shrugged, "Aro likes to check in on the squad. He usually uses me to do that."

"Shouldn't he use Marcus for that?"

"I try not to dwell on the inner workings of Aro's mind. It gives me a headache."

We approached a very sleek black car. I knew next to nothing about cars but from my limited knowledge I could gather two things; it was a Mercedes and it was expensive.

Edward slid easily into the driver's seat while I more cautiously opened the passenger side door, sat down, and gently closed the door behind me. I took great care putting on my seat belt and tried not to move too much.

Edward hadn't started the car yet, so I looked at him curiously and noticed a very amused look on his face.

"What?" I inquired.

He mashed his lips together and his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

"What?!" I asked more insistently.

Edward's laughter wasn't so silent anymore.

"Your face!" He choked out between guffaws, and though I knew he was laughing at me, I couldn't help but smile along with him.

"I've never been in a car this expensive before!" I defended, grin still firmly in place.

He shook his head, still chuckling, and quickly and quietly backed us out of the parking garage.

"So where are we headed?" Edward asked once he'd calmed down.

"That mall Alice and I were at last week? There's a pet shop there."

"Are you even allowed pets in your apartment?"

"I doubt my landlord is going to give a fuck about a fish."

"Fair enough," he conceded.

We settled into a comfortable silence and I looked out the window, watching the pedestrians struggle in the cold November air. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but it was on its way.

"Hey, I don't think I said this, but…thanks for last night," Edward murmured.

I looked back at him, and he was staring straight ahead, concentrating very hard on driving.

"No problem," I replied with a shrug.

Edward's lips turned down and one hand left the wheel to scratch his right cheek.

"Did you…" I paused and took a deep breath, "Did you want to talk about it?"

He heaved a sigh, looked at my quickly from the corner of his eye, and then focused back on the road.

"I'm very protective of the squad," he said simply.

I nodded, because yeah that's pretty obvious. I still remembered the way he wanted to run to Tanya's rescue when the probable twin murderer spoke back to her.

"I've been with them all a long time. The squad is my family and it's my…not my job to take care of them, but I feel responsible for their protection."

I pursed my lips and watched Edward's hand move from his cheek to run through his hair before returning to the wheel.

"That's a huge burden on you, Edward." I didn't fully understand his dedication to the squad because I'd never experienced that kind of camaraderie back in Chicago, but I did understand his urge to protect and defend. It was one of the reasons I'd gone into law enforcement in the first place.

"It's instinct. I can't exactly turn it off, can I?" Edward grumbled, his hands tightening on the wheel.

"I'm not criticising," I said quickly, "I just don't think it's very fair to you to hold yourself liable. That guilt from last night…it's enough to crush you, Edward."

"How am I supposed to feel?" He asked harshly, "It was my case and I led her in there. I knew how dangerous it was and I let her go in."

"I don't know Kate very well, but I know she's a brilliant detective, and if she heard what you just said she would've punched you in the fucking mouth."

He scowled but didn't reply.

"You didn't pull the trigger," I spoke more gently, "That asshole sitting in the holding cell did. He's the reason Kate got hurt, but you're the reason she's alive. You're the reason she isn't worse off."

I noticed the mall approaching from the corner of my eye and Edward abruptly pulled the car over, swerving to avoid the cars around us while I tightly gripped the leather beneath me. He turned off the engine and turned to face me. I looked at him, surprised and a little angry, but the look on his face melted that away in an instant.

"I'm going to hug you now, okay?" He said softly.

My breathing stopped but I just nodded, keeping my eyes on his as he slowly leaned forward and enveloped me in his arms.

I remained tense at first but quickly relaxed and let myself feel his soft touch and breathe him in. It should've worried me that his scent was already so familiar to me, but it was a source of comfort and one I wasn't going to deny myself. I raised my arms and circled them around his waist. Our position was a bit awkward with the console between us but I didn't care, and Edward didn't seem to mind either. I rested my head in the crook of his neck and Edward gently rubbed my back, the touch caused sparks to run up and down my spine.

"You're kind of incredible," Edward whispered.

I let out a short laugh, "I try my best."

He breathed out a chuckled and held me closer. I wasn't sure how long we stayed there, it could've been mere seconds for all I knew, but the warmth that coursed through my veins kept me there. I'd stay there for as long as he'd let me.

Too soon, Edward gave me one final squeeze and pulled back, smiling broadly at me. I gave him a shy one in return and looked away.

No more words were spoken between us as we got out of the car and made our way to the pet shop, though I did notice that Edward was standing much closer to me than usual. Not that I minded.

"What are we looking for?" Edward asked as we entered the surprisingly large store.

"A fish, obviously."

Edward grinned but rolled his eyes, "A purple fish?"

"I've been more partial to green lately, actually." The words were out of my mouth before I'd even realised I'd said them. I felt my eyes widen and my cheeks flame and I quickly turned away from Edward and prayed he didn't notice my reaction.

"We should split up," he suggested, "I'll take the left side of the store."

I nodded my agreement, because this actually worked much better for me. As soon as I saw him walking away I hunted down one of the staff members.

A young man with platinum blonde hair and dangerously pale skin was cleaning out hamster cages near the front of the store and out of Edward's eye line. I quickly made my way over to him.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah," he replied, his nose scrunched up in disgust and still staring down at the shit at the bottom of the cage he was holding.

I cleared my throat and he looked up. I discretely flashed him my badge and his pale blue eyes widened.

"I'm with the NYPD, I need to ask you a few questions," I said quickly and quietly.

"Do I need a lawyer present for this?" He squeaked.

I raised my brow, "If you think you need one then feel free to call them."

His gaping mouth closed and he looked confused so I took pity on him.

"No one's in trouble, I just have a couple of questions about a girl you work with. If you feel uncomfortable or you don't want to answer that's fine, I'll just walk away, all right?"

He looked less scared now, though there was a bit of sweat on his brow. He nodded quickly, probably making himself dizzy.

"Can I just ask how old you are…Tristan?" I asked after reading his nametag.

He swallowed audibly, "Twenty."

"And what do you know about Bree Tanner, Tristan?"

Tristan looked confused for a moment, "Bree?" He clarified, "She hasn't worked here in over a month."

"Was she fired?"

He frowned, "I don't think so. She just stopped showing up so the manager stopped giving her shifts."

"Is that like her? To stop showing up?"

Tristan gulped, "Is she in trouble or something?"

I exhaled loudly, "I don't know, Tristan. I need information, and if you tell me anything you know about her I might be able to help her."

The young man then took a deep breath and his expression transformed. I could see the determination in his eyes as he met my gaze.

"I don't know much about her. She was nice, I guess. My other co-workers get frustrated with me but she didn't. She treated me good."

"Did she ever speak about any family? Friends? A boyfriend?"

Tristan shook his head, "We weren't that close so we didn't really talk about that stuff but this other girl used to drop in and visit her."

"A girl?" I asked, swiftly removing my notepad from my pocket to take notes, "Tell me about her."

He frowned, "Umm…she's about my age, browny-gold hair, white, skinny, kind of weird."

I raised a brow, "Weird how?"

Tristan shrugged, "I don't know just weird. She's jumpy but kind of a bitch." His eyes widened as the curse slipped out of his mouth and he looked up at me apologetically.

I didn't say anything but nodded so he would continue.

"I don't really know much else about her, just that they lived together." He finished quickly.

I scribbled it all down, "Do you know her name?"

Tristan licked his dry lips, "Her full name was something crazy I don't remember. But Bree would call her Nessie."

"Okay," I'd have to pay a visit to Bree's landlord tomorrow to see if I could find anything out about this roommate. "Do you remember anything else about Bree? What was she like in her last few days here?"

He pursed his lips and scratched his nose, "I don't really remember…I think she was excited about something. She seemed happier than usual. That's all I know."

I nodded once, "Thanks. Where are the fish?"

Tristan stuttered for a moment but then pointed me in the direction had Edward walked in.

"Swan!" He called out when he saw me. He was standing next to an amused young woman, "I haven't found any green fish! Not one! And…" Edward trailed off, looking at the girl next to him.

She pointed to herself and smiled, "Crystal."

"Crystal," Edward continued as he turned back to me and looked completely dejected, "Says that green fish are really rare."

"It's fi-" I started, but Edward impatiently cut me off.

"Which doesn't make a lot of sense from an evolutionary perspective. Surely it would be a huge advantage to be a green fish when there's a shitload of algae and plants and other green shit around, right?" When I didn't react to his words he turned to Crystal and widened his eyes, looking a little crazed, "Right?"

She humoured him, "Right!" She replied passionately, though I could still see the mirth in her eyes.

"Exactly!" He pointed at Crystal, "She's a professional and she agrees that fish should be green. Why are there no green fish, Swan?" He walked up to me and grasped my shoulders, shaking me lightly, "Why are there no green fish?"

"You care way too much about this," I said through my laughter.

His lips twitched, but he kept up his angry act, "I don't understand these stupid animals and I think God made a mistake when He created them."

"Can you start over again? I want to record it so I can show it to Jazz."

He broke and grinned, laughing along with me. "You seemed pretty set on a green fish."

I shrugged and his hands fell from my shoulders back to his sides, "It's honestly not that big a deal," I peered around him and waved to the shop attendant, "Thanks for your help, Crystal."

She smiled broadly, "It was my pleasure."

I didn't doubt that for a second.

"So you're not getting a pet?" Edward asked as we walked out of the store.

"Nope."

"So the trip to the pet store was for nothing?"

"I guess."

"So you weren't working on a case?"

He didn't stop walking but I did notice him smirking, a smug look on his face.

I feigned nonchalance, "Maybe."

"Hmm," he hummed and remained silent on the rest of the walk to the car.

"So are you going to tell me about Daniels or do I have to ask?" It had taken me a great deal of patience to wait this long to ask.

Edward pursed his lips as he took off at an unreasonably fast speed.

"Don't think so," he finally said.

I wanted to punch his stupid, beautiful face, "Why not?"

Edward raised an eyebrow, "Did you just growl at me?"

"Don't avoid the question."

"That was definitely a growl. It's very sexy, Swan. You should do it more often."

I tried not to think about the way his lips curved around the word sexy. I was unsuccessful.

"Why won't you tell me?" I pleaded.

Edward sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't want to give you any reason not to trust him. That's the worst thing that could happen to a team…"

I blinked once, twice, then turned and stared straight ahead.

"What?" Edward asked after a minute of silence, "You're just going to drop it now?"

I almost laughed, "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"You're pretty relentless, Swan," he stated.

I nodded, because he was right, "That's true."

"Why'd you drop it?"

"Edward, it's pretty clear you want to tell me the story."

His expression morphed from curious to sad in less than an instant, "No, I don't," he said quietly.

"Then I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do," I shrugged, "You'll tell me when you're ready."

He didn't reply, but gave me a tiny nod.

I tried to ignore the suddenly tense atmosphere and stared out the window. My eyes were already heavy despite the fact that it was only five. I leaned my head against the window and prayed that Edward wasn't anal about markings on his glass or something ridiculous like that. For the first time in a long time my mind was clear – I didn't think about Charlie or Emmett or work, I just let myself be in the moment; this quiet, simple moment with Edward and his expensive car. And I was comfortable.

Soon, too soon, we pulled up outside my apartment building. I sighed, murmured a quiet goodbye to Edward, and dragged my feet up the four flights of stairs. I stumbled a couple of times and my limbs were heavy with exhaustion. If I hadn't known any better I would've thought I'd been drugged.

As I approached the final flight of stairs I heard voices…soft, quiet murmurings that had me cautious and reaching for my holster. The sounds grew louder and louder until the stopped abruptly. I was at the bottom of the staircase so I couldn't see who was speaking, but then I heard a loud bang and a grunt, and I ran up the final flight of stairs, gun in hand and safety off. A thousand scenarios ran through my mind; What if Mrs Cope hurt herself? What if someone was breaking into her apartment again? What if Charlie isn't who I think she is?

I hadn't really expected the sight of Alice with her legs wrapped around Jasper's waist as he pressed her against my apartment door.

A/N: I know I say this every time, but thank you so much for your kind words and wonderful reviews. They make me happier than you could ever know.

Also, I got a twitter! I post teasers there sometimes and I talk a lot of shit, so if you're into that follow me bonovffn

See you in a fortnight!