Author's Note: Hi everyone, my thanks to all of you guys :). No news or anything today, just an update. Switching points of view in this one so watch for the line breaks.

Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.

Twelve: Gravity

I left at five o'clock that day for the first time in I couldn't remember how long. I picked up Chinese food and all but ignored the brunette at the counter when she not so delicately announced she was single. Instead I was thinking about Esme. About what she might do and who she might tell and for reasons better left unexplored, it made me want to go further.

She had seen us that afternoon in the hallway. And to anyone else, it would have been nothing. But Esme Cullen was not just anyone and she knew better than to simply shrug it off. She saw the way Bella and I looked at each other and the way we stood just a little too close for comfort; she saw me touch Bella's arm and the way I leaned into her without thinking. When I finally stepped away, Esme was staring, arms crossed at the end of the long hallway. I walked up to her without having to be told, like her misbehaving son. She turned and strode past the dayroom to a more private area.

I cleared my throat. "Is everything alright?" I crossed my arms, mimicking her position.

"Dr. Masen," she started, "we have worked together for a while now and you are a good friend to my husband, so I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Can you please explain your behavior with Miss Swan as of late?" Her tone was sharp, but not without any give; she wanted to believe whatever I had to say.

"As of late?" I asked stupidly. As far as I knew, the only time Bella and I had been seen together was moments before and I was fairly certain I could explain that away.

"I saw you in the hallway with her and I've had a patient come to me with concerns about the two of you."

"What?" The last part caught me off guard. "Which patient? When was that?" I was starting to sound guilty.

"I'm not at liberty to say who, but they are no longer a patient here anyway. It was almost two weeks ago."

She stared at me and looking past the skepticism and pointed look in her eyes, I saw what was really there. She was right; I was a friend to her husband, although I hadn't quite realized it. I was possibly the only one he had and that carried weight with Esme. Tell me everything is alright, her expression said, I'll believe you. But there was fierceness there too, which made me more nervous than I was letting on; if you messed with her patients, you messed with her.

I didn't want to lie to her, but I was toeing the line regardless. "Was it Rosalie? She mentioned the same thing to me," I sighed as if I was nonplussed by the whole situation. "She saw me catch Bella's arm when she tripped last week in my office and came to believe I was making a pass at her. I can assure you it was nothing more than that." I used my most persuasive smile.

"And just now?"

"When you and I pulled Victoria and Bella apart?" I feigned confusion. "There's nothing to tell. I checked her arm; she's going to have a nasty bruise."

She looked at me another moment before loosening her stance; I could see what was coming next and I silently begged her not to do it. Relaxation of the expression, removal of doubt, second guessing of her intuition.

She smiled and laughed quietly to herself. "I'm sorry, Edward." There it was, proof; I did have that kind of manipulation in me. "I should have known, Rosalie does have a flair for the dramatic." She was used to seeing the closeness between Carlisle and his patients, the way he went the extra mile, stayed up late researching, formed the bond. Of course she would believe I was like him.

I smiled tightly, "you're just being protective, Esme; I wouldn't have it any other way."

She squeezed my arm lightly, "Yes but I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions; I'm sorry. I know you're a much better man than that."

No, I wasn't.

I stepped back, mumbling a few platitudes before excusing myself.

I stood at my kitchen counter, eating Chinese food out of little cartons, letting the guilt hit me; I welcomed it. I had been confronted twice and gotten away scot free both times. I set my fork down, my appetite waning. What the hell was I doing? Did I think things would go on this way indefinitely? How long before I was caught doing something I couldn't talk my way out of? I stuck the mostly full cartons in the fridge and went to my bedroom to change; I needed to clear my head the only way I knew how.

By the time I was on the jogging trail, I started feeling better. No less guilty, but better enough that I could sweep everything to the side. Instead I focused on the cooler air of the evening, the way my body felt as I pushed harder over an incline, and the steady breaths I used to help pace myself. Things were not impossible; there was always a solution. It was just a matter of finding the right one.

You should have stepped back, out of the picture. That was the right solution.

I can't do that.

Why not?

I don't think I can be apart from her.

I knew that as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it didn't stop me from picking up speed, trying to leave all thought behind.

I came into work Monday no clearer than when I left that Friday. I said hello to Carlisle and Esme as he brought a cup of coffee to the nurses' station. I went over a medication change with Nurse Klein and then met a new patient with Carlisle. I went through all the motions trying to force myself to pull answers out of thin air. Leaving seemed like my only option; it would hurt, but the best choice often does. I tried to be clinical about it, but I could feel the strain of my decision ripping me apart by the seams. I forced myself into stoicism as I listened to Carlisle talk to the new patient. I thought her name was Annabelle, but I couldn't be sure. The only thing I really knew was that Bella's room was four doors away and I wondered if she could feel me the way I felt her.

Maybe she could; she was standing outside her door once we finished with the new patient. Carlisle saw her and smiled, "Bella, how are you today?" He had a way of speaking that even the most common pleasantry held vast importance.

We came to a stop outside her room. She ducked her head in a quick nod, "morning Dr. Cullen," she looked at me, "Dr. Masen."

I couldn't take my eyes off her and I knew then that I could never leave, no amount of forcing could get me to go anywhere without Bella. Looking back, I can say that it was at that moment I knew what was going to happen and though the decision would be made on impulse, I can't say it came from nowhere. I think maybe I was just waiting, looking for an excuse to act. I would gratefully take all the blame later.

There was a pause in the conversation where I realized we were done; Carlisle backed up a couple of steps and said a friendly goodbye. I expected his accusation, I expected him to feel it in the air between us though we spoke only in pleasantries that morning. But there was another part of me that understood that Carlisle saw the good first and would never suspect me of any wrongdoing.

I hadn't moved yet and I knew he would wait for me but for a split second as he turned to greet someone else, I dared to brush my hand along Bella's, to feel the heat there that I was sure others would notice. I moved away just as quickly, afraid of my own inability to control myself.

"Bella seems happier, looks tired though," Carlisle noted when we were out of earshot.

I made a sound of agreement. "Yeah."

With thirty minutes left until my appointment, I couldn't wait any longer. I went to the nurses' station and found Hatchet, begged her to let me see Dr. Masen, told her it was an emergency. It wasn't, or maybe it was depending on how you looked at it. She waited with me at the door, making sure he was available; she didn't leave until I was all the way inside the office. Edward stood when he saw me and took his glasses off. "You're early…,"

I managed a half smile, "I could go and come back if you want."

"No," he answered quickly, sitting back down. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up; I'd never seen that part of his body before. His tie was loosened and it made me wonder what he'd been doing before I interrupted. "I want you to stay." He watched me sit and then waited, assuming I came to actually talk to him about something.

I tried to get comfortable in the chair, after realizing this was an impossibility, I asked, "what are your glasses for?"

He fingered them self consciously, "reading. Things blur after a while if I don't use them." The quiet after his statement wasn't awkward, but I felt the pressure of it and tried to find something to fill the space.

"I couldn't sleep the last couple nights. Ever since…," I trailed off.

I felt his eyes moving over me, settling on my face. "I can tell. What's keeping you up?"

The most I was willing to admit to was bad dreams. Usually it was about James, he didn't say anything, but his expression wasn't hard to read. We were back in the vineyard and he would look at me in such a way, full of hurt and absolute betrayal that I'd find myself sitting up in bed most nights, trying not to wake Tanya with my murmured apologies. But the last couple of nights it wasn't James, it was Victoria. She'd leer at me with her striking face, the blame apparent in her expression. "It should have been you." She'd say.

And I couldn't stop thinking about her; she'd known James' name. How? She'd known what happened, that I was too much of a coward to follow him. I'd spent most of the weekend waiting for her, but she never showed. I was smart enough not to relax; she would show up the moment I let my guard down. Maybe that's what she was watching for.

I was so lost in thought, I hadn't noticed Edward come around his desk, almost close enough to touch.

The shadows around her eyes were heavy and dark; I had a feeling it was more than bad dreams, but I didn't ask. I had to work up my nerve to stand even though somewhere in my mind something else had taken over, something that told me the rules didn't apply anymore. I knew she wasn't here today for counseling, but that didn't mean I knew any more what to do. I looked at her again, then sat down on the floor, leaning my back on the desk. "I have more than an hour until my next appointment," I gestured to the couch. "You can try to sleep here if you'd like."

She stared at me expressionless and I thought about what I'd be willing to give to be able to read her mind. And then, without word, she stood up and moved to the couch. She lay on her side and stretched, I heard a faint sound of something popping; I stayed where I was, afraid my movement would keep her awake. She fell asleep fast and once I was sure of it, I stood, trying to keep myself from going over to her. I ignored the mounting paperwork on my desk, the lunch still in my fridge, and the soft breathing sounds of the beautiful girl on my couch. I went to the window behind my chair and stared out at all the choices I'd made, the direction this was going, and imposed over everything was her face, pale and tired in the grey of this place. Her eyes, mixed unhappiness and hopefulness and absolute trust; she was so willing for me, pliable. She didn't have to say so, it was written all over her.

Five minutes before my next patient was due, I knelt down beside Bella's face, deciding where to touch her. I almost couldn't do it. I licked my lips and ghosted my fingers over her bare arm; I noticed she'd stopped wearing that heavy sweater she usually favored. She looked like porcelain without it, too thin and breakable and still the most exquisite woman I'd ever seen up close. "Bella," I whispered, touching her again. She stirred slowly and turned onto her back, stretching like a cat, rubbing a hand softly over her face. I hadn't moved and she looked up at me, at once completely knowing and at ease, like this was the way it should be.

"Thanks," she said, making no move to get up. "Did you get caught up on any work?" I wondered if she'd noticed the higher than average stack of papers littering my desk.

"Yeah." She kept looking at me, like she knew gravity was moving; I felt off balance, all things shifting as they were around her. She tilted her head and lifted her hand; her fingers brushed a wayward strand of hair off my forehead. I lifted half my mouth in a smile; when was the last time I'd been touched like that? Maybe never. I'd lived a life before Bella, of course, gone through all the phases and transitions. But there was no phase for this. She kept her hand where it was, fingers woven in the hair at the back of my head.

Gravity.

I couldn't tell you if I pushed or she pulled, but that part didn't matter. I felt her breath for just a second before my mouth closed over hers, soft and yielding and warm and mine. It wasn't the first time that thought had entered my mind, and it wouldn't be the last. Mine. The kiss was chaste until I felt her pull me closer; I felt her tongue run along my bottom lip and I moaned, opening my mouth for her. She tasted sweet.

I heard a knock and I knew whoever it was could easily open the unlocked door and see us, but I didn't stop. And neither did Bella. I pulled her into a sitting position and then forward so I was between her legs, vaguely aware of the aching in my knees from the hard floors. I felt everything else though, her against me closer and closer and the way the very tips of my fingers had found the skin of her waist under her shirt.

I took her face in my hands and pressed my lips to hers in a final kiss before pulling back. Her face was bright and only slightly worried at the sound of the second knock. I brushed her hair back and stood her up; anyone with any sense whatsoever could guess at what we'd done, but I didn't care. I wanted to taste her again, but I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop. So instead, I lifted the hand I was still holding to my mouth. At the last second, I turned it over and kissed her palm.

Neither of us said anything before she slipped out the door.