A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

I know I've missed an update or two on this one. RL has been kicking my butt lately. However, writing is what keeps me sane, though sometimes, there just aren't enough hours in the day. Either way, here's a nice, long update that'll hopefully make up for the missed updates.

*FYI, that scene from the last teaser on Facebook? Still didn't make it into this chapter, lol. It SHOULD be in the next one. ;)

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. However, all mistakes are mine.

Broken – Chapter 10

The following evening, I stopped by my parents' apartment.

My cousin, Jamie, answered the door, apparently taking a break from the studio business. I got this not from the grin he wore – he always wore a grin – but more from the round person he carried in his arms.

"Ed, Aunt Esme told me about the award you're receiving at the CDC banquet in Atlanta and-"

I groaned.

"-wait 'til you see what I'm designing for you. Oh, baby. Women will drool."

"Great. That's just what we promote at the CDC," I nodded, "drooling adults. Sounds good."

While Jamie chuckled, I shifted my gaze and found JJ's big, blue eyes zoomed in on me.

"Oh yeah, this little guy's here again, too."

"So I see."

JJ shot me a wary frown and opened his mouth, and with the memory of his screams from last time still fresh in my mind, I prepped for the impending explosion.

Instead, little JJ leaned across Jamie and stretched out his arms, mumbling unintelligibly.

"Hey, look at that," Jamie said, "he remembers you, and he wants you to pick him up."

"Is that what that means?" I reached for my nephew. "Let's see if I remember how I did this last time without dropping him."

Jamie snorted. "Says the man who handles Biohazard Level Ten cryogenics on the daily."

"I hope your diaper's on correctly," I mumbled, using my right forearm to support JJ's behind. Then, I wrapped my other arm around what I assumed was his midsection. When the kid didn't topple, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Jamie, Jamie, Jamie," I said, sucking my teeth in mock reproach regarding his lack of viral knowledge, "first, Biohazard is level four, not ten; there is no level ten."

"Uh-oh. Here comes the CDC lesson. Ready for naptime, JJ?" He made a snoring sound.

"Second, you don't handle Biohazard Level Four viruses on the daily; you need special clearance."

"You just can't skip those details, can you, Ed?" Jamie laughed. "And special clearance or not, you're a lunatic to be around that shit at all."

My jaw tightened, and all my playfulness of a moment earlier evaporated. "Jamie, watch how you throw around certain words. We all have issues; it doesn't make us lunatics."

"I just meant you're a ballsy fucker. You couldn't get me within a mile of that stuff for all the money in the world."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm real ballsy because I've got no problem handling an inanimate assembly of molecules that can't do a thing without a living host. Trust me, it takes more caution than balls to be around a virus, whereas people…" I shook my head, sweeping my gaze back to JJ and gently gripping the index finger he kept trying to dig into my eye, "no matter how prudent you mean to be around people, they're way more complicated and unpredictable than dead viruses. And…so are our reactions around them."

In the handful of seconds which transpired before Jamie spoke again, his eyes remained on me while mine remained on JJ and on his attempts at poking his finger into any opening in my face.

"If you say so, cuz; you're the virus expert, but I still say it takes balls." Jamie clapped my shoulder. "Hey, Ed, I apologize if I said something stupid. I wasn't trying to be a dick."

"No, Jamie." I shot him a rueful smile. "I apologize. You weren't the dick here; I was. I got defensive because…well, it doesn't matter."

"Sounds like it matters a bit."

I waved away his bemused expression and focused on my nephew. "So, JJ, how's it going? Want to tell Uncle Ed what you've been up to?"

JJ replied with his usual gibberish.

"It's a woman, isn't it? You've been acting weird lately, Ed; well, weirder than usual for you," Jamie persisted.

Still, I kept my eyes on JJ. "Met any interesting people at the playground? Read any good books you want to recommend?"

"Yep. It's a woman. I can totally tell when they're wreaking havoc in a dude's system. For example, if you flushed any brighter right now, your sweet cheeks would match what's likely your quickly beating heart," Jamie said in a sing-song tone.

"JJ, can you give your Uncle Edward a high-five?"

"That's fine. That's fine. Don't tell me. But I bet I know who's got the deets." Jamie bounced on the balls of his feet. "Think I'll give Emmett a call later; haven't seen him in a bit. Maybe he's up for grabbing a couple of beers."

"Better yet, JJ, can you tell Cousin James that now he really is acting like a big ole, nosey, giant di-"

"Edward Anthony Cullen, don't you dare finish that sentence in front of the baby."

Esme strode over, wearing an expression equal parts horror and reproof as she balanced on her toes and kissed my cheek.

"That wasn't funny, guys. The language you're both using in front of him is outrageous."

Both Jamie and I snickered through somewhat empty apologies.

"And Edward, if that 'D' word happens to be JJ's first word, you won't have to worry about Alice finding out and killing you because I'll do the job."

When JJ's curious gaze shifted between me and his step-grandmother, I smirked.

"Mom, the kid can't even understand what we're saying, much less repeat-"

"Dihh…dihh…"

"That's a total coincidence," I said.

"Maybe he's trying to say 'Dihh-ad?'" Jamie offered.

"Dad. Dick. Same difference in his case," I said.

Jamie and I burst out laughing.

"That's enough. Hand over the baby." Esme reached up for JJ, but he grunted and gripped my jacket sleeves in his minuscule fists.

"All right, all right," I said. "I'll stop, Mom – even if it's true."

Sighing, Esme pulled back. When JJ realized I wasn't handing him over, he turned and took in his step-grandmother over his plump shoulder, shooting her what looked like a smug grin.

"You devious little…" I chuckled. "Did you see that? He totally played us!"

Esme smiled tenderly at him, ruffling his hair – hair which, after having had the unfortunate luck of bumping into his bastard father a couple of evenings ago, I noted was the same exact color as that asshole's.

My mom swept her gaze to me and quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you see, Edward? This is why I told you to stop. Babies understand a lot more about the dynamics of the world around them than they get credit for understanding. Sweetheart, someday you might be a parent yourself…"

Of course, my traitorous mind instantly took me to places…to possibilities… What was it a certain brunette had said the other day – something about 'contemplating possibilities I really shouldn't contemplate?'

A baby with auburn hair and coffee-toned eyes popped into my head, and in the next fraction of a second, I popped it right back out.

"…and knowing you the way I do," my mom continued, unaware of the mental upheaval her words had just caused, "I know you wouldn't appreciate anyone ridiculing your child's mother in front of your child."

My nostrils flared. "No one ever better-"

I cut myself off but not before Esme's eyes widened. "No one ever better what?"

"Never mind. The point is, what I'm saying is true," I scowled. "The guy's a douche."

"Edward," Esme snapped.

"What?" I said impatiently now.

At that moment, JJ reached out and started flipping my lower lip, giggling at the resultant blubbering sound.

"Ehhh…Ehhh…"

"No way he's trying to say 'Edward' now," Jamie said. "That kid picks up everything."

When I pulled his finger away from my mouth, JJ quickly used his other hand. When I held on to that one, he stilled long enough for me to let go, but when I did, he swiftly went for my mouth again. I laughed hard and instinctively brushed my lips against JJ's forehead.

Yeah, he was small and malleable, but he was smart too. Maybe he couldn't understand precisely what those around him were saying, but he could…extrapolate from a situation.

Maybe one day, Life might force him to understand that his father was an asshole. Maybe that knowledge would come by something he heard from someone; maybe it would come by something he overheard himself; or maybe by something he saw himself. Either way, there was no benefit to hastening that bit of knowledge. If anyone knew that much, it was me.

A sudden rush of more than affection, a fierce sense of protectiveness toward my nephew, my flesh and blood regardless of all else, washed over me.

"I'm 0 for 2 tonight. Sometimes, Uncle Edward's sense of humor sucks." This time, I offered JJ an apologetic grin. "Sorry, kiddo."

"Ehh…Ehh…"

"Goodness, he adores you, Edward," my mom laughed. "You may just end up being his first word."

"Wouldn't my sister just love that?" I grinned crookedly. "Speaking of which…where…?"

"There was another incident with…well, you know."

"Yeah," I muttered, "I know."

"Though she did ask this time if she could drop the little one off for a bit, and I'd rather know he's well taken care of. Besides," Esme gently caressed JJ's cheek, "he really is such a good boy. Between Carlisle and I, we take turns watching him, set him on his mat, and he just happily plays and observes the world around him. He rarely complains unless something's really bothering him. Otherwise, he's too busy to cry." Her green eyes met mine. "He reminds me so much of you when you were a baby, in temper and mannerisms, if not so much in looks. Funny, isn't it, how Nature works?"

"I don't know that I'd call Nature funny, but…is Dad home?"

Esme nodded, and a vertical crease appeared between her brows. "He's in his office, waiting for you."

"Come meet us when you're ready," I said. "But remember what you said about small ears?"

"Yes. Of course. Let me just get JJ settled. Jamie, do you mind keeping an eye on him for a few minutes?"

"As you said, Aunt Esme, he's a good kid. Doesn't seem to love his cousin Jamie as much as he loves his Uncle Edward, but I'll forgive him."

Esme grinned softly and reached up for JJ.

"Ehh. Ehh!" JJ said as my mom took him.

OOOOO

"Your mom told me about the award you'll be receiving next month, Edward." My dad steepled his hands on top of his desk. "I want you to know how proud I am. I know it's not an easy job – the path you've chosen, the work you do – and to be singled out on top of it? That's quite an impressive feat. You should be proud of yourself and honored."

Seated in the chair across Carlisle's desk, I squirmed uncomfortably, while images from a few other, similar conversations held between my dad and me in here over the years flashed through my mind:

'I'm proud you made the honor roll.'

'I'm proud you were named your team's MVP.'

'I'm proud you got into Cooper Union.'

And so on and so forth.

And yes, I knew he was genuinely proud. Yet somehow, his praise always seemed stilted and strained, or perhaps it was the way I acknowledged that praise, with stiffness and defensiveness that always sounded churlish even to my ears. It was as if we were two bad actors who'd been playing the part of father and son for decades, yet despite the long-standing roles, our performance was always lacking.

"Thanks, and of course I'm honored, but that's not why I do what I do."

"Obviously, I didn't mean to imply it was only for the pride and honor," he said quickly, leaning forward against the thick mahogany. "Nonetheless, it would've been good to hear the news from you rather than having to wait for your mother to tell me."

"It's not like I was spreading the news around, Dad. Mom found out on her own."

"Edward, there's nothing wrong with being proud of the work one does. Your mother and I both-"

"Dad, can we drop the subject? That's not why I'm here."

Carlisle sighed. The door behind me quietly opened and closed, and we stood as Mom took the seat beside me. All the while, our gazes held.

"So, what's going on with Alice and that asshole?" I asked once we took our seats again.

Carlisle pressed his lips together and raked a hand through his hair.

"We don't exactly know, but they argue quite a bit since the baby was born."

"And as far as we can tell, those arguments have only escalated since Jasper lost his job," my mom added.

"When she comes over after an argument with Jasper, she's usually fuming."

"But she's tight-lipped. You know she's never liked admitting she was wrong," my mom said.

"Or that she might deserve what comes her way every once in a while?" I said.

"Edward." My dad frowned. "Don't you feel the slightest bit of symp-"

"Oh, I'm full of sympathy," I spat, "but not for lying, cheating-"

"Carlisle, don't." My mom shook her head from side to side. "Don't try to make this about Edward or about his supposed lack of sympathy. Had those who should've shown some sympathy in this situation actually shown it, we wouldn't be here right now."

"Mom, I can handle-"

"Esme, I only meant-"

She angled herself completely toward me. "I'll say this, Edward. A child changes everything, how we view and handle entire situations; sometimes for the better, and sometimes despite our good intentions, things don't work out for the better. When one person isn't ready for the child they've brought into the world, it's a shame. When both aren't ready, it's a travesty, and somebody needs to step in. In this case, it seems that both Alice and Jasper weren't ready. It would also seem she thought she'd won some grand prize, while he…well, who knows what he was thinking when he left his wife the way he did?"

"I have no fucking clue – excuse my language."

Esme's brow furrowed before she continued. "Either way," – again, she looked at my father – "your sister has always wanted what she wants, and from the bits and pieces I've gathered, it appears Jasper can't be bothered to either openly defy her or to completely give in to her. So, she's basically stuck in a purgatory of her own doing."

I snorted and shook my head. "He's playing mind games. It's what he does."

Carlisle frowned. "How do you know?"

"I saw him at a bar downtown a couple of nights ago, and the bastard approached me as if we were long lost buddies," I snarled.

"And what happened?" my dad asked warily.

"I let him know we weren't."

"What was he doing downtown?" my mom asked.

"That's what I was hoping one of you might know. He said he was a visiting a friend, but…" I shook my head. "I don't buy it."

"We have no way of knowing, Edward," my father said. "But other than drinking your sister's money away in a bar, what do you suspect he was doing?"

"Nothing," I said swiftly because I wouldn't involve her in this. If it was true that Alice and Jasper were way too engaged in their own misery to even think of her, then I'd call that a godsend. There was no way I'd risk having her name reach either of those assholes' ears again. Never again.

I stood. "I don't suspect a thing. And by the way, Dad, you want to know who I feel sympathy for? For JJ because he got stuck with those two – who are both sneaks in their own way. Alice fought an underhanded fight to get the cheating bastard she's got. Now, the closest to sympathy I can show her is simple advice from me to you to her: tell her to kick the fucker to the curb. Or tell her to keep closer tabs on him," I shrugged, "closer than she apparently already has to keep." Snorting, I shook my head. "Purgatory indeed. Take care, old man. Mom, I'll meet you in your studio."

OOOOO

The following morning, Emmett and I were stretching post-run. His early morning text, eager and ready to join me, was a surprise. Usually, getting him to agree to rise with the sun was akin to getting him to agree to elective surgery. Then, he'd constantly ask me to slow down, to run shorter distances, both which I hated.

Yet, here he was: as awake and energized as me, and both of us lunging to the tunes streaming through our earbuds.

"They will not force us. They will stop degrading us. They will not control us. We will be victorious," I mouthed as I pulled one arm forward and then the other.

"All right, stop. Collaborate and listen. Ice is back with my brand-new invention!"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, Em? For a second there, based on the beat, I thought your musical taste had finally taken a turn for the better. But then came the lyrics."

Emmett laughed. "What? It's a classic!"

"The beat is classic – another band's classic."

"Hater," Emmett snickered. Then, leaving the lunges behind, he broke into a nineties hip-hop dance.

"If there was a problem, yo, I'll solve it. Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it."

"And on that note, I'm out of here."

With Emmett's laughter resounding behind me, I walked off, but he quickly fell in step with me.

"So, where are we going?"

"I'm going…for coffee."

"Great. I'll come with you."

I shot him a sidelong glance. "I thought you didn't like the coffee place I frequent?"

"I was thinking we could try a new place."

I shook my head. "Nah."

Emmett sighed. We walked without conversation for the next couple of blocks, until we reached the corner to the coffee shop.

"Have you told her yet?"

"I meant to tell her yesterday, but it wasn't the right time."

"What, she looked sad again? Or did she look happy and you didn't want to make her sad again? Or was the sun not in the right alignment with the-"

"I get it, Emmett."

"Do you?" He frowned. "Cuz I'm not so sure you do."

We stopped just outside of the coffee shop, and I raked a hand through my sweat-dampened hair, averting my gaze, and keeping it away from the window, beyond which I could already sense her…recognize her outline in my periphery. Instead, I held Emmett's gaze.

"You know, after every time my dad beat the shit out of my mom, he'd swear he was never going to do it again. And he meant it."

"What the hell?" I said, jerking back indignantly. "You're comparing me to your abusive father?"

"No, Edward. Of course not. But he had good intentions. He honestly never meant to hit her again. Yet, he did. So here's my point: sometimes, good intentions aren't enough."

"It's not the same – at all."

"No. Your case is a lot simpler."

"It's not as simple as you seem to think it is," I scowled.

"Puñeta." He rolled his eyes. "I didn't say it was simple. I said your case was simpler because you're not an abusive asshole. But the truth, Ed? It's way past overdue. All your delay is doing is making things worse for yourself, never mind for her. I know you care about her, but my concern here is for my buddy."

"Don't try to tell me I'm slacking off at work," I said. "I'm as on point as ever."

"Yeah, comemierda, you are – for now. But you're fidgety; anxious, and you've got a shorter temper than usual, as evidenced by that almost-bar-room-brawl the other night."

"That fucker's lucky I didn't-"

"Yeah, yeah, he is," he agreed, waving it off impatiently, "but Jamie tells me you got somewhat testy with him as well."

"What the…? You mean he actually called you? I thought the fucker was joking." I shook my head and snorted. "You know, when people say women like to gossip, they've obviously never met you two."

Emmett chuckled unrepentantly. "Don't worry. I told him you were probably just stressed from work. It's not my place to say more. But he was concerned, Edward." He laid a hand on my shoulder. "I'm concerned as your buddy and as your wingman at work, that this will start affecting you in larger, more significant ways. Our job requires a healthy mind and body connection. You know that."

"Says the guy who only came running this morning to act as my armchair psychologist," I smirked.

He chuckled guiltily. "Hey, I do other forms of exercise." After a few moments, Emmett's eyes cut to the window, and he jerked his jaw.

"That's her, right? The brunette?"

My eyes easily followed the trajectory; half of my attention had been there all along. Bella sat by the window, focused on her laptop and typing away. I sighed at the sight of the small smile playing around the corners of her mouth, her lips forming words I couldn't hear, yet words which made her eyes sparkle even from here.

"Well, she is gorgeous, so on that count, I can see why you can't stay away."

"That has nothing to do with why I can't stay away. Do you see how her mouth moves around those words? That means she's creating. And you see that soft smile she's wearing? That's the same smile she wears when she looks up and through that window. It fades sometimes, depending on what she sees…or on what she's thinking. But lately, that smile is around more and more."

When I looked at Emmett, he was watching me through bemused eyes, brow furrowed as if trying to understand a foreign language.

"Or maybe it's just the way I see her, Emmett. Either way, it doesn't matter."

"Edward, ever since you and I started working together, you've always chased the most difficult cases. It's why you've risen so quickly at the Center."

"You think that's what this is?" I asked in disbelief. "The thrill of the chase – or the degree of difficulty?"

"Either way," he said, patting my shoulder, "I'm not going to convince you to come to Starbucks with me, am I?"

"No, not at all."

"Dunkin'?"

"Nope."

OOOOO

Maybe it was my imagination or even wishful thinking, but for the handful of minutes that I sat at the counter waiting for my coffee order – as well as for a fresh cup for Bella – I could've sworn that more than once, Bella's fingers paused and hovered above her keyboard. Then, she'd look up, her head tilting slightly to one side while her eyes slid in my direction.

A small grin lifted the corners of my mouth as I recalled her last words to me the previous time we met:

'Will you be here tomorrow morning? You know, to watch me write?'

"Hey, Edward, I've got a new one to show you!"

Bree leaned across the counter, a bit closer to me than necessary. She held my coffee mug in one hand and a small jug of steamed milk in the other.

"Bree, not now."

Ignoring my protest, she steadily poured the steamed milk into the coffee mug, and with a similar series of steps as last time, she created yet another foam design. When it was done, she looked up.

"Isn't that cool? You sure you don't want me to show you how to do it? It's super easy! It'd be better if you drank whole milk, but I know you like skim. Either way, I can make lots of things, just tell me what you want to make? I can make flowers, the sun…a heart." She breathed the last word huskily, but then she giggled like the college freshman she was. "And you can Instagram it all and get like a zillion likes! It's like a little morning mood lifter that doesn't leave that smell on your thumb and forefinger."

I quirked a brow and pulled back. "Just the coffee is enough of a mood lift…" My eyes flashed toward Bella. "Actually, Bree, do you think you can give me a super-quick lesson?"

"Oh my God, sure!"

OOOOO

When I slid a fresh cup of coffee toward Bella, her head shot up, and I sprinted back to the counter for my cup and the steamed milk.

"Thanks for the lesson, Bree; I'll bring the jug right back."

She frowned darkly. "Wait, where are you-"

I turned back toward Bella and found her eyes already on me. They jumped upward to my face when she realized I'd caught her staring, and I couldn't help the wide grin that spread across my face. Her cheeks flushed, but not in anger or even out of embarrassment; it was something more akin to…pleasure.

"Wow, actual cups and saucers," she said as I slid into the seat beside her and set down the cup and jug. "Thank you, but I already have coffee." She gestured toward her untouched cup.

"I know, but I'd bet money you've let it go cold, which is unacceptable because hot coffee should never be consumed cold."

"Says who?" She offered me an impish smile.

"Says the very definition of hot coffee." Her ensuing laughter gave me a boost of courage. "Besides, I figured if we're going to meet here often, we might as well save the environment and have our coffee served in real cups."

"I suppose it's the environmentally-friendly thing to do," she agreed with mock solemnity.

"What's more-"

"There's more?"

My chest swelled. She was in a playful mood.

"Oh, there's plenty more. What's more…" I picked up the steamed milk jug which rested on the counter space between us, "I've got something super cool to show you, so pay attention."

When she saluted me, I laughed and spilled some of the milk over the rim.

"Pig."

"Stop," I whisper-hissed out of one corner of my mouth, making her chuckle quietly. Then with a deep breath, "Here we go. Watch closely."

I screwed it up – big time. The foam design meant to be an olive branch looked more like a dead twig.

"Ta-da," I announced self-mockingly.

Setting down my implements, I looked up at Bella, already offering up a rueful smile. She'd crossed her arms against her chest, hands fisted tightly as if attempting to keep them still. Her eyes were intently focused on the foam, and I mentally prepped an apology for what turned out to be a waste of her precious, creative time with my poor attempt at what was clearly her realm of expertise.

"It's kind of crooked, I know," I admitted, "but I'm a novice at latte art, and I was told whole milk would've worked better…"

Bella's eyes inspected every inch of me, focusing everywhere except my eyes. When she finally completed whatever inventory she was performing, she did meet my gaze, and what I saw had me setting my jaw to withhold a loud hitch of breath.

Her eyes, always beautiful even when clouded by melancholy, were now as clear as the most precious opals, unobscured by any sort of sorrow. Emmett had thought her gorgeous through the window; he'd find no words for her brilliance now.

"Tell me what you do, Stranger," she smiled, a teasing lilt to her tone, "that leaves you with time for daily morning runs followed by people watching in coffee shops, and interspersed with learning novice latte-design tricks?"

As I sat back and sighed, Bella's opal eyes followed me intently as I rested one leg over the other and picked up my coffee.

"Well, when you spend half of your life and a pretty decent sum of money on medical school, daily runs followed by long coffee breaks where you talk to fascinating people and show them your novice latte art skills are the least Life can do to make it up to you."

She laughed, and in a moment of helpless inspiration, I leaned forward and closed the gap between us so that only my coffee cup acted as a barrier.

"And by the way," I murmured, swallowing thickly, "my name is Edward, not Stranger."

Bella stopped laughing.

"I know," she said simply, offering me yet another impish smile. "Though, I suppose I'll have to call you Doctor now, huh? But I'm still confused, Doctor. Don't doctors have patients to see?" Her brow furrowed. "Or are you one of the reasons why malpractice suits are so prevalent nowadays?"

"I'm a medical epidemiologist, Bella. I don't see patients; at least, not in a private office type setting."

Her mouth fell slightly ajar.

'That's quite an impressive feat, Edward. You should be proud and honored.'

I mentally shook my father out of my thoughts. Meanwhile, Bella raised both eyebrows.

"How stupid will I sound when I admit I'm not sure what that even means?"

"You won't sound stupid at all. It's a mouthful which simply means I work for the CDC examining patterns of disease."

"Is that all? Wow." She nodded, openly displaying her admiration. "What type of research do you do?"

"Well, are you sure you want me to get into that?" I offered her a warning grin. "I've been told on more than one occasion that I can get so lost in the details I bore my listeners to death and completely eliminate the need for diseases. And I'm sorry," I chuckled, "that was a pretty tasteless joke."

"I found it funny," she shrugged. Mimicking me, Bella sat back, crossed her legs, and flourished a hand in invitation. "But please, get lost in the details. I promise I'll try not to die of boredom."

God, even her sense of humor amazed me.

"All right. But remember you asked for this," I jerked my jaw toward her still-untouched coffee, "and drink that while it's still nice and warm."

It took off well enough; better than the latte art attempt, I had to admit. I started with basics on my job with the CDC, chasing viruses and diseases around the world. Then, I explained how my department worked in conjunction with the World Health Organization to keep track of world-wide events and prevent them from becoming catastrophes. Through it all, Bella listened with what appeared more than courteous attentiveness. She seemed genuinely engrossed.

"Edward, you're like the James Bond- no," she put up a hand, "better yet, you're the Jack Ryan of viruses and diseases," she said.

I will admit, my chest puffed up a bit.

"Well," I chuckled, "I don't know about all that."

"I certainly think so." She smiled broadly and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Please. Continue. It's all so fascinating."

"Uhm…o-kay."

I described my most recent work with the flu and revealed the yearly struggle to keep the various strains from growing into pandemics.

"Like the Spanish Flu did at the tail-end of World War I," she nodded, "though it didn't originate in Spain at all."

"No, it didn't, but since the news was censored in all the combating countries during World War I-"

"-and Spain was neutral," she said, taking over, "the disease was reported widely there, which in turn gave the impression that it originated there."

"Correct," I nodded eagerly. "Nowadays, most epidemiologists agree it originated in France, but most people are still under the impression that the viral strain originated in Spain. I'm surprised you knew that, Bella." I grinned proudly as if I'd just watched her make the original discovery of where the Spanish Flu originated.

"I may not be an erudite doctor like you, Doctor," Bella breathed, and for one long moment…for one long moment, as she bit her lip and pushed her hair behind her shoulder so that her smooth neck was uncovered…unconcealed, she was the epitome of sexy, "but I'm not a total ignoramus when it comes to viral strains."

If I didn't know better, I would've thought Bella was flirting with me.

Unfortunately, I did know better, and unfortunately, it sort of went downhill from there. At the mention of viral strains, I kept going, and I learned that Jamie was right; I physically couldn't skip the details, not even for Bella.

"I've done it, haven't I? I've completely lost you. Your eyes are glazed."

She magnanimously suppressed a yawn, making me adore her even more.

"Not at all. Okay," she smiled ruefully, "I'll admit, you lost me a bit when you got into specific strains, but…wow, Edward. That's all amazing, and pretty fucking frightening in places. Also, you travel a hell of a lot."

"I do. Right now, I'm on a short break while I wait to hear whether I'll be headed to China again this year or somewhere else, depending on priorities; could be California, could be Madagascar. Who knows?"

"I've got to admit, as amazing as your job sounds, it's all the traveling you do which fascinates me the most."

"It gets a bit exhausting, believe it or not." And lately…lonely.

"I've always wanted to travel."

She said it so dreamily, with such a far-away look on her beautiful face, as if she was picturing herself in some exotic land. For a moment, I saw her… I saw us in that undisclosed and remote corner of the world – Africa, Asia, Europe – who cared where because we were huddled together in bed while she bit her thumb beds raw and typed away on her Mac, and I compared one virus strain to another on my PC, and we set them down and-

"Why haven't you?"

She shrugged. "I was involved in other things, I suppose; other endeavors and priorities, which didn't pan out. And anyway…" And just like that, a wall, almost physical in its entity, suddenly appeared and threatened to rise between us, "my ex-husband wasn't much for traveling. He always complained everything was too far away." She picked up her forgotten coffee mug, but it was no longer a mug; it was a shield.

Goddamn fucking, mind-fucking, small-minded, hick bastard Jasper.

"Forgive me, but your ex-husband sounds like an uncultured and undereducated idiot."

Behind her coffee cup slash shield, Bella coughed and choked, and I cursed myself to the deepest pits of hell. Droplets of coffee spilled over the rim as she set down her cup and tried to regain control.

"Shit. Shit, I'm sorry." Reflexively, I reached out and patted her back, and even through her sweater, the warmth of her seeped into my undeserving fingers. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Finally, she stopped coughing, and I forced myself to pull back my hand.

"Thank you, Edward." Her voice was gravelly and hoarse. When she looked up, her cheeks were flushed, eyes swollen and red-rimmed from the force of her coughs.

But then…she chuckled. "He was…is an idiot. And he's even more geographically-challenged than I am." She quirked an eyebrow as if challenging me to figure out those last words – as if every discussion between us wasn't chiseled into my skull.

"Clearly," I snorted. "You said you're from Washington State, right? That's a six-hour or so direct flight from here."

"Yeah," she agreed.

Where would I take you, Bella? What places would you love?

I took a guess. "You know, it takes about the same time to fly to London direct from here."

"London? I'd love to visit London. But I thought it was further away."

"Obviously." Leaning in close enough to smell her shampoo, I murmured in her ear. "With your geographical prowess, you probably thought London was near Japan. By the way, Japan is on the other side of the planet."

Bella shoved me away hard – laughing the entire time.

"Shut up, Edward. I know very well where London is."

"Do you?" I smirked. "Where is it?"

"In England," she grinned.

"And where exactly is England?"

"In Europe."

"In what part of Europe?"

Silence.

I roared in amusement, but it was more than her poor world geography. It was a combination of relief, joy, comfort, attraction, interest…and so much more. More than anything, it was the fact that she was so laid-back and mellow…so beautifully carefree today.

"Laugh all you want. Someday, I'll go, and I'll be able to answer any question you throw at me regarding England's geography."

Oh, Bella, baby. You have no idea the lengths I'll go to now to make sure your dreams of travel come true.

"That actually sounds like a great plan." I brought my coffee mug up to my mouth. "But get ready because when that happens, I plan to test you."

"Do you have family, Edward?"

When I choked, it was Bella's turn to pat my back. Afterward, she made a covert attempt at wiping off my sweat on her jeans. Nevertheless, this was my chance – again.

Here was my fucking chance again.

"Yeah. Yes, Bella. I have a family."

I stopped. God help me, I stopped. And being the intelligent creature that she was, Bella didn't miss the vagueness.

"Well? What is it, a wife? A husband? Kids? A partner with no clue that you sit and take note of the coffee preferences of perfect strangers?" she spat, nostrils flaring, arms crossed against her chest.

"No, Bella." I frowned. Her accusations – allusions to betrayals, comparisons to assholes – stung, and my own sense of indignation reared its head. "Of course, not," I snapped. "I've never been married. I have no wife, no husband, no kids, no girlfriend or boyfriend or life partner of any sort," I hissed.

For a few moments, we both fell silent, scrutinizing one another.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to imply…" she snorted, "I think it's pretty obvious I have some…issues."

I was an asshole after all.

"Jesus, Bella," I choked, "please don't apologize to me. Yes, I have a family. Parents, grandparents, cousins, a sister," I said quickly, hiding her in front of aunts, and uncles. "Some of them live here, some of them live elsewhere, but we're not particularly close. I suppose I travel too much, and besides..." I shrugged. "Anyway, enough about me," I said, and all the while, I knew it wasn't enough about me. "Tell me about you."

"My current narrative may not be as interesting as yours."

The sad smile made a hated return.

"There's no way that's true." I gestured with my jaw toward her laptop. "Trust me, I've watched you go at that close enough to know there's no way that's true. But go ahead," I teased, hoping to make her smile, really smile again. I crossed my arms against my chest. "I'll give you a chance to prove me wrong. I'll even start things off for you. You're a writer," I grinned. "Go."

But the ensuing result wasn't what I'd hoped for. Yeah, she chuckled, but it was a bitter chuckle, full of self-deprecation I knew too well.

"Maybe once I was, though I'm not so sure about that anymore. I wrote nonsense for a small, relatively unknown publication here in the city, yet I allowed it to validate me more than it should've." She shook her head, and her gaze panned away from me, toward the windows and the cool September sun. "My parents are divorced, and they pretend it was the friendliest divorce in the history of divorces, but in reality, my mother broke my father's heart. I think, on some level, I knew that all my life, and I resented both of them for it, so that when I was faced with my own divorce-"

She cut herself off sharply, while my heart beat against my ribcage.

"I'm sorry." The words were barely a whisper, yet she shook her head almost violently, wrapping her sweater tightly around herself, white knuckles fisted around her forearms, shivering as if the outdoor chill had reached through the windows and wrapped itself around her.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed again.

It was instinctive, innate, inborn in me to try to comfort her in any way I could. And at that moment, as I cocooned her hand in mine, squeezed it, stroked my thumb against her knuckles and gave her my warmth, I knew…I admitted to myself…telling her who I was wasn't an option…not right now.

"Don't be sorry." She looked up at me, eyes wide as if she was surprised…as if she had no idea I'd never walk away from her. "Bella," I swallowed, "I…"

"So, what happened to your nose?"

My hand fell away, and I blinked successively, trying to clear the startled, befuddled daze in which her sudden question left me.

"Sorry." She offered me a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to point it out if it's a sore point. Get it?" she smirked. "Sore point."

It took a handful of seconds more before I was able to chuckle. I raked a hand through my hair, and now I was the one who needed the reprieve or the punishment provided by the windows.

"A sore point? I guess you can call it that. Fucking fractured noses bleed a lot, and you need both hands…" Rubbing the uneven bridge of my nose, I scowled and shook my head while my mind replayed That Day with vivid clarity as if it was reflected in the window. "There was a fight, and I had a run-in with an errant elbow."

Beside me, Bella hissed. "Sounds painful."

Even now, she had no recollection of it, and that…was the painful part.

"It was…a strong elbow. Made me see stars." Again, I grinned, stupidly proud once more, this time of both her physical strength…and her refusal to take their bullshit That Day.

I turned and met Bella's gaze. "The fracture healed rather quickly, though the nose is a bit skewed now, huh?"

"It's not too bad." She grinned. "It's probably only noticeable to those people who observe others way too closely."

I quirked an eyebrow. "If I'm not mistaken, Bella, we're discussing an observation you made about me?"

"Fine, fine." She chuckled, waving away my observation. "Anyway, it suits you."

"A crooked nose suits me?"

"It gives your face rugged character. Plus, you can go around telling the most outrageous stories about how you got it – a pub crawl that went one bar too far, a game of rugby you kept from turning more vicious than usual, a bodega robbery you foiled single-handedly. The possibilities are almost endless."

I swallowed hard. "And this…is one of the reasons why…I find you utterly fascinating."

Had I not been blinded by my own desires, I would've sworn Bella's breath hitched.

"But Bella, you've turned me into the hero in all of those versions."

"If you're the one retelling the story," she shrugged, "why not turn yourself into the hero?"

Again, I had to look away from her, and I should've stopped and examined what that meant. I should've examined my reflection in that window and taken note of what it mirrored back at me.

"It is a funny thing about windows, isn't it? You're right about them. Because, Bella…" I whispered, "I don't think I'd be much of a hero in the real version." I forced myself to meet her eyes.

"I probably shouldn't have joked about it. It doesn't sound like it's something you want to make light of."

"You know what?" I sighed. "I'd be almost glad I got it if it wasn't for the fact that…a really great person got hurt a whole lot worse than I did that day."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with so much heartfelt sympathy even Carlisle would be impressed. Though, he'd likely think the sympathy was due elsewhere. "I hope that person recovered well."

"I don't know if I was much help or hindrance, then or now, but at this point…"

"At this point?" she prompted. A second later, her beautiful, smiling face hovered in my line of vision, making me smile in return, despite everything.

"You know, my therapist assures me that yoga and running are both great for clearing the mind."

I chuckled quietly. "So have you taken that advice?"

"Well, I started yoga this morning. As for running, I've run on treadmills in the past," she frowned and shook her head, "but I'm not sure how to do so on city streets, what with all the traffic and pedestrians."

I snorted in amazement. "Guess who's an expert at running through city streets?"

Bella raised both brows. "How far do you run every morning, Edward, and how quickly?"

"Uh…"

"Yeah, I thought so," she snorted. "Thanks for the offer, but much like you with your latte art, I'm a novice."

"And I'm a great instructor," I persisted, ready to make any concessions to prove it true. "We can start slowly and only go short distances until you work up your stamina."

Bella looked hesitant. "I don't know. I'd hate to slow you down and ruin your morning routine." Her eyes flashed to my chest but quickly bounced back up.

"Bella, trust me when I say…I'd love to run with you." It was as close to the truth as I could offer for now.

For a few, tense seconds, I waited for her reply. All the while, she held my gaze. In their dark yet clear depths, I could see her considering it, examining the possibility…contemplating much more….

And then, a small smile pulled against her lips...

"Okay."

And our mutual world of possibilities collided and expanded.

A/N: Thoughts?

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FYI:

For those of you who've been following UPRISING, I just want to make sure you all know I've gotten back to that one as well. It'll be updating again in a day or two.

For those of you who've followed The Age of Innocence (which will be published as "A Requiem to Innocence"), in honor of the 75th Anniversary of D-Day, I've posted an excerpt of the upcoming novel on my Facebook page.

"See" you soon!