Sorry about the delay. It might be like this for a while.

TwilightMomofTwo goes above and beyond. She's more awesome than she knows!

Special thanks to EnchantedbyTwilight and Alice's White Rabbit from Project Team Beta for helping me wrangle those pesky commas.

"I should have known. It's been two whole hours since I saw you last. Stalk much?"

"Don't think of it as stalking. I came to restate my case, but I think I can wait." She looked very tired. It was earlier than Bella's regular work schedule, and I'd expected her to stay for hours yet. "Decided to go home early?"

She nodded. "Austin has everything under control. I only like to think I'm indispensable," she said with a tight smile.

I scanned the area for possible danger. This was earlier than the last time I'd walked her home, and the streets were still crowded. I placed myself just in front of her, hoping to act as a buffer in case there was a problem. "I'm not sure Austin would agree with you."

She made a small huffing sound. "If there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that most people are replaceable, especially at work." She rubbed a hand over her face. "God, that made me sound like an old codger. And you, young man, are making me feel even older."

On the other hand, I hadn't felt this young in a very long time. I could work with it, though. "It's true, I suppose. I'm young, at least compared to you." I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. "All this youthful energy comes in handy. The better to wear you down, my dear."

She laughed. "That's the worst Big Bad Wolf I've ever heard. So that's how it's going to be between us?" she asked, motioning between us with her hand. "You're just going to keep following me around?"

"Yes. Tenacity and patience are my most powerful weapons."

"I can't deny it. You are annoyingly persistent."

A scowling young man in a hoodie came at us from behind, letting his shoulder hit Bella. We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. People nearby recognized potential trouble and gave us a wide berth. The guy stared down, angry at Bella's audacity. He believed she should have known better than to be in his way.

Bella never backed down. She looked him in the eye even though he was taller and working hard to be intimidating.

I growled low in my throat, and without looking at me, she put a hand on my chest. The implication was clear—she had this, and I needed to stay out of it.

The thug's head swiveled in my direction, and I did everything I could to scare him, reinforcing that unnatural fear of vampires that most humans have. He swallowed audibly, seeming to shrink in front of us. I growled again, taking a step forward, and he turned, sprinting down the street. I enjoyed watching him run.

"You didn't have to do that. I had it handled," she said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. She started walking again, but this time it was faster, and she seemed irritated.

"I'm not going to let anyone manhandle you. Not when I can help."

She stopped again. Now, the crowd flowed around us. This time, they just saw a couple fighting in the street, which happened frequently.

"Look, we need to get one thing straight. If we do this—whatever this is—," she waved a pointed finger between us again, "it won't be because I need someone to protect me. I'm fine on my own. If I spend time with you, it'll be because I want to be there, not because of battles you can fight for me, things you can buy me, or connections you have. You get the picture?"

I couldn't fault her for not being clear. "It wasn't that I didn't think you could handle yourself. It just seems silly for you to have to put up with that when I can make it go away."

"I appreciate the thought, but he's a two-bit punk looking to prove that he's a man. I've been dealing with his kind for a long time. If you show fear, they'll walk all over you."

"You understand that you're destroying all of my chivalrous instincts, don't you? How am I supposed to win you over?"

"Chivalry wasn't all it was cracked up to be, believe me. Life is better now. And isn't it nicer that women are with men because they want to be, not because they have to be?"

I couldn't help it; I broke into a big grin. "So, you're 'with me'?"

"No one likes a smartass. You know what I'm trying to say." She stepped closer and looked into my eyes. "I can take care of myself, and you're going to let me. Right?"

I was always going to protect her if she needed it, but she didn't want to hear that, so I shrugged. "I'm making no promises, especially if your neighborhood is full of guys like that," I said, going back into protector mode as she started walking again.

"It's not. That was a one-off. But even if it was full of people like that, I can handle myself, and I like it here."

"You like it because it's a good place to hide, or you like it because of the people?"

"Both."

I looked up and down the block, trying to see whatever charm she did. Small storefronts dotted the street. The majority of them were Mom and Pop shops with signs written in two languages.

"I spend a lot of time in immigrant neighborhoods. I like the energy of the people, and they don't ask too many questions." She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "I suppose you were born on the right side of the tracks. Is this all foreign to you?"

I didn't like the idea that she was building preconceived notions about me. "I think you're getting the wrong idea. I'm sure the neighborhood is full of wonderful people. I could just live without the most threatening residents." I eyed a group of young men sitting on a stoop a few doors down. They were watching us, but they were trying not to look like they were watching.

She followed my gaze. "They're fine. I'm sure one big, bad vampire can take out a group of teenage boys." When she looked over, one lip curled up a bit as though she were fighting a smile.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Of course not!" she denied a bit too loudly. "I'm just saying you're awfully uptight about a few guys hanging out."

"It's not the fact that they're loitering. It's what they're thinking while they do it." I heard the growling undertone in my voice.

She laughed at my irritation. "They're allowed to think whatever they like—as long as they don't act on any of it."

Again, I didn't agree, so I kept quiet. Deciding it was probably best if I let her lead the rest of the way, I dropped behind while we weaved around pedestrians. As we reached the building, Bella pulled her phone out of her pocket.

I was appalled to see that the front door had a single flimsy lock, but she didn't seem to think it was an issue. The walls were thin, and even without my acute hearing, I would have been able to tell what was going on in each apartment. As we walked up the three flights of stairs, Bella concentrated on her phone, but I knew she wasn't checking messages. When I asked about it, she said she was verifying the alarm status. Her nondescript door was midway between the stairwell and the fire escape, probably the safest location in this miserable building. She keyed numbers into her phone, and I heard a chirp as the alarm turned off.

A door slammed below us and screaming started between the occupant and her boyfriend. It was a heated argument about her infidelity. The girlfriend was guilty, but she would deny it no matter how much he railed at her. "I know I'm beating a dead horse here, but this is really where you choose to live?"

She sighed. "I'm sure you love your room to run, but think about it from my point of view. If you were expecting Volturi guards and had no natural defenses, what would you pick? Would you live alone, somewhere remote, where they could chase you down like a rabbit, or would you surround yourself with as many humans as possible? People who could act as distractions and witnesses?"

She was right, but it didn't mean I liked it.

"This kind of neighborhood isn't safe for a young woman living alone."

"You don't have to worry about me, Grandpa. I'm safe enough."

As we walked inside, I shot her a dirty look. I didn't like this new implication that I was somehow older and stodgier than she was. It had been more entertaining before when I could tease her about being the old one.

Bella sighed and dropped her phone on the small desk. "I love being home. Even if it's a false sense of security—I still feel safe here."

I watched her sit down at the desk and enter a password into the laptop, arming the system again. She knew I was watching every keystroke, able to retain it in my perfect memory. The fact that she didn't protest my intrusion seemed to be a huge vote of confidence.

"What's the setup?" I asked.

"This is for the alarm. I have monitors placed on the outside of the building. The owners don't know about them, but they don't hurt anything, and I wouldn't feel good living here without them."

"How does the system work?" I had a feeling I was about to be impressed by her all over again.

"It's a custom mix of two systems. The first is an infrared motion detector that works by determining body heat. The second motion detector is ultrasonic, sort of like how bats echolocate. The computer program combines the two. If there's someone lurking who sets off the motion detector but not the heat sensor—"

"Then there's someone outside who has no body heat! That's genius, Bella." I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises she had in store.

"Thanks. I get false positives once in a while, but I feel better knowing it's here."

"It's impressive. I'll talk to Jasper about whether or not we could adapt something similar."

She stood, obviously uncomfortable with the praise. Gesturing in a circle, she said, "Well, it's not much, but it'll do for now. Make yourself at home, I guess."

She was right; this place was small. The living room was empty other than a dusty treadmill, one reading chair with a floor lamp alongside, a bookcase crammed to the gills, and a desk holding the computer. Next to the desk was a smaller cabinet, the kind used to store office files.

I pulled off the hoodie and was going to set it down, but with only two chairs in the room, I didn't have many options. Her apartment certainly wasn't set up for entertaining. There was a door near the entry, and I suspected it was a coat closet, but when I opened it, I found a stack of disassembled moving boxes. "Going somewhere?" I turned around and looked at her over my shoulder.

She shrugged. "It's a hassle to find boxes every time I decide to move."

Unfortunately, I understood. I also got tired of the constant churn of resettling every few years.

I ended up closing the door and hanging the hoodie on the doorknob.

The only place in the room that seemed to have any personality was the bookshelf, and I ran my finger over random spines. "This is quite the mix," I said, trying to figure out if there was a reason Sun Tzu, Jane Austen, and Jules Verne were next to each other. "Do you have these organized in a certain way?"

"No. I just go back to whatever I feel like reading at the time."

Something occurred to me, and I scanned the room quickly. "No television? Emmett will never believe this."

She was leaning against the doorway that must lead into the kitchen, watching me explore. "It's not like I've never seen it, and you can watch some shows on the computer. I just never saw the need to get something else I'd have to move. Maybe I should get one this time. Everyone I know complains that they don't have enough time to get things done, but they watch lots of T.V. It would be a good way to kill time. God knows I've got lots to spare."

I smiled, pleased she was relaxed enough to tease. "Please don't. I'd rather we talk."

There wasn't much else to see, so when Bella turned and went into the kitchen, I followed. This room was as austere as the living room. It held functional, plain appliances, and there was no clutter on the clean countertops.

"It doesn't look like you're in here much." I was starting to worry a bit about her nutritional habits. "I don't remember much about food. Do you cook for yourself, or do you usually get takeout?" Other than the apple at our house, she hadn't eaten that day. I knew she needed to eat. I just wasn't sure how to go about making it happen.

"I'm not so sure I'd call it cooking," she said, opening the fridge and pointing at the contents, "but I do all right." Neatly arranged fruits lined the top shelf, vegetables and dairy were in the middle, and a single container of eggs sat on the bottom shelf. I had no idea what a well-stocked refrigerator should look like for a single person. It seemed a bit sparse, but we could talk about that later. Right now, there was something else I wanted to ask.

I reached inside, adjusting a small bowl of grapes about three inches to the left. "Your food needs to line up?" I asked, looking at her out of the corner of my eye, trying to control my smile.

She swung the refrigerator door shut, and I had to step back before the door slammed into my head. "When you've lived alone for as long as I have, you tend to like things a certain way. That's not a crime."

"No, but needing to have things a certain way would make it difficult for someone to share your space."

"You plan on raiding the contents of my fridge? Maybe helping yourself to an apple?" She opened the door again and pulled out a yellow-pink specimen. Taking hold of my wrist, she turned my palm up. I ignored the tingle that ran up my arm. She pushed the apple into my hand. Crossing her arms over her chest, Bella leaned against the counter. "This, I've got to see."

I looked from Bella to the apple and back. Her temper seemed to come out at the oddest times, and it would take me a while to figure out when and why.

As I pondered this, she seemed to think better of her challenge and qualified, "Scratch that. I just want to see it go down. I don't want to see it come back up."

With a sigh, I opened the fridge and put the apple back where it belonged. "Apples aside, you know what I mean. I'd like to think there is even a tiny bit of room in your life for me."

"You're standing here, right? No one but Jacob and the housekeeper have ever seen this apartment. I need you to understand what a big deal this is for me."

I was trying to understand, but even knowing how monumental this was for her, I wanted more. I couldn't seem to help it, even though I knew she wasn't ready for it. If I wasn't careful, I'd push her away by pressing too hard. When her stomach rumbled, it seemed like the perfect time to change the subject.

"You need to eat. What would you like?" I started to open the refrigerator again, but she put her hand out.

"I've got it. There has to be something more interesting for you to do."

Actually, there wasn't any place else I'd rather be. She started pulling things out of the refrigerator, then out of the cupboards. Within minutes, she had an assortment of fruit and cheese with crisp crackers. I must have been making an odd expression because she shrugged again. "Usually, this is dinner. It's fast to make and easy to eat while I read."

She began to nibble, and I couldn't help but ask questions. "So you eat in here while you read? That's why there isn't a table or chairs?" I tried to keep my tone even, but I was fascinated. I thought all humans used a table and chairs.

"Edward, you make it sound as though I'm the first person to eat standing up in the kitchen. A table takes up a lot of space for something I don't use much. Eventually, it was just too much trouble to keep moving it. I'm down to the basics."

I asked more small questions while she ate. What were her favorite foods, and why? Was there anything she didn't care for? There was so much to learn. She seemed amused by my questions, but she answered them all.

When she was finished, we went back to touring. I loved getting to know her better this way. The bathroom was next but there were no real surprises; I'd already been in the bar's office bathroom. It was remarkable how similar the two rooms were. I pointed at the medicine chest, raising an eyebrow while I looked at her. She rolled her eyes before nodding her assent, and I pulled open the door as though it held the mysteries of life.

The medicine chest held one of each necessary item with the spare behind it, except the floss. It stood alone. I pointed to it. "Explain this, please," as though it had committed some grave sin.

"I ran out this morning. The housekeeper won't be back until Thursday. She'll put it on the list and bring the spare when she comes again."

"You mentioned the housekeeper before." I nodded appreciatively. "She shops and cleans. Anything else?"

"Sometimes she leaves me meals. She thinks I work too hard, and I need to get a life."

"I suppose I should thank her for making sure you eat something hot occasionally," I said, leaning against the countertop. I was still thinking about the cheese and crackers for her main meal. Didn't humans need something more substantial?

Bella grinned at me, and I knew I wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "She also leaves pictures and phone numbers for her nephews. They're usually attached to a note telling me I'm too pretty to be single and lonely."

"Now that, I won't thank her for. I'll have to make sure I leave something behind, just so she knows those nephews have some competition—maybe a shirt or some underwear."

"You'd have to be out of your underwear to leave them here. Since that won't be happening, it's not an issue. And I hope you don't mean the ratty hoodie. You'd better take it with you."

I ignored that. I liked the hoodie. "So, I've had the tour of the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. I guess all that leaves is the bedroom," I muttered as if talking to myself.

She followed behind me as I moved into the bedroom. A queen-sized bed was pushed up against the wall. The room would have been too small otherwise. A tiny dresser stood opposite the bed with nothing on top.

"I can't get over it," I said, running my hand along the smooth surface. "There isn't a flat surface in Alice and Jasper's room that isn't covered with some sort of product or decorative item. She even asked for an extra closet in the last house because she wanted a facial preparation area." I pulled the closet door open and stood back, surprised. "Bella, I promise, I'll never tell any of the women in my family about this closet. You'll never hear the end of it, otherwise." At first glance, all I could see were T-shirts and jeans, a winter coat, a pair of boots, and some martial arts uniforms.

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, tapping her toe.

I turned back because there must be more. "Wait! I see a black dress and a pair of heels way in the back, but they're dusty." When I touched them, my finger left a clean streak on the patent leather, and I wondered what she'd look like all dressed up. Suddenly, I wanted to take Bella to all the night spots I loved, to share my favorite places with her.

"Are you done?" she asked, striding forward and closing the door. "The dress and heels are for weddings or funerals. There's dust on them because no one's tied the knot or dropped dead lately. I'm grateful for both! Now, if you're done making fun of me, you can head out. I'd like to get some sleep."

Damn it. I'd done it again.

She raised her eyebrow at me and stared, obviously waiting.

"Okay, maybe the comment about the heels was insensitive, but do you know how unusual this is? How different you are than anyone I've met before?"

She sighed, rubbing her hands across her eyes, suddenly looking exhausted. "Edward, I know I'm not a beauty queen. I lived a rough life with men for a very long time. Hell, I'm still confused by women sometimes and all the crap that comes along with them. Men are easier to understand. They're practical, don't fuss, and they usually say what they mean. If they have a problem with a friend, they fight it out—usually with a fist—and then they both move on."

Her conclusions made sense. I'd thought many of the same things over the years.

When Bella started talking again, her voice had a harsher edge. "I'm used to being one of the guys, but I understand that men want prissy girls. What you need to understand is that won't ever be me. I'm never going to be one of the dressed-up dancing queens at the bar." She ran her hands over her ponytail, smoothing it back, before looking at me. It was almost as though there was a challenge in her tone.

It was clear that I was missing something. I was used to being in control of the communication in every situation. I had a tool other people didn't have, and it gave me an edge. This interaction with Bella made it clear I'd let this skill atrophy. Other people used physical cues and the tenor and pitch of the voice to help indicate what the other person was thinking. I didn't pay much attention because I had my ace in the hole.

I was still thinking about the best way to respond when she started talking again.

"Look, it's probably best that we get this out of the way now. What you see here," she motioned to the spare, spartan room around us, "is all there is. That dress is the sum total of the froufrou girl stuff. If you came here thinking there was some hidden cave where I kept high heels and makeup, you were mistaken."

She didn't seem angry anymore. That was resignation on her face.

"No, I won't go until we talk this through."

When she looked up, I hated the wariness in her eyes. I hated that she had been so disappointed by life that she could possibly be dreading what would come out of my mouth.

"Bella, why do you think I'm here? Did you think this was some sort of test? It most certainly wasn't. Now, you need to understand something. I don't care what you wear. I've never met anyone like you, and what's on the outside doesn't matter. You're brave and honest, and you've been through hell without letting it destroy your soul. I didn't come here expecting anything. Haven't you figured it out yet? I'm here because I'm fascinated by you, and there is no place I'd rather be. This little peek into your life isn't anywhere near enough. I want to know more."

She spun, leaving the bedroom. I could hear her pacing in the living room, four steps in each direction before turning back. Her heart was pounding louder than ever before. She walked back in, facing me, taking a deep breath and opening her mouth only to close it again.

Had I screwed up what was intended to be a tender outpouring of affection? "What is it? Why aren't you talking?" If she didn't say something soon, she would make me crazy.

"Damn you!" she said, but she was smiling. Her outburst was followed by a sniffling sort of inhale. "If I were a girly girl, I'd be crying."

If she let me, I'd say sweet things to her all day, every day, just to get that response.

"Take your shoes off," she ordered.

"Pardon?"

"I need to get some sleep, and I know how you operate. If I go in there to brush my teeth, you're just going to be in bed before I come back out. I'm beating you to the punch. But if you're going to stay, you're not wearing shoes in my bed." With that decree, she disappeared into the bathroom.

I sat on the edge of the bed and removed my shoes in record time. I moved until I was lying on the far side, next to the wall. I tried to keep my grin under control, but I must have failed. When she returned from the bathroom, she took one look at my face and gave a short laugh.

Bending down, she pulled her boots off, lining them up neatly next to the dresser. She set the cell phone within easy reach and climbed in. With a quick tug, she took out her ponytail. I watched, fascinated, as she worked her hair into a quick braid and refastened it. Finally, she shifted closer to me, then closer again.

I was stock-still as she rested her head on my shoulder, rocking back and forth a few times before finally seeming to find just the right spot. As she drifted off to sleep, her body relaxed and curled against mine.

It was the best night of my life.

Thank you so much for reading!