Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight, I own a Buffy watch, and - brace yourselves - team Jacob socks. I've probably said it before, and I'll probably say it again. But that is not a giveaway as to the outcome of this story. And I am oh so unconditionally and irrevocably team Rob.

Girl, Ordinary

Chapter Fourteen

Your Handsome Prince

Edward and the others are going off to school in the morning as though it's a normal day, but I'm nowhere near over last night yet. Physically speaking, such a lot of shape-changing in such a short time means I will need to recharge, and emotionally, I'm still traumatized. The rogue vampires are locked somewhere in the house, which I find extremely disturbing although Edward tells me they are drugged and securely confined, and they're being kept apart from one another.

"Your house has a suite of dungeons?" I ask him, dubiously.

"Well, there's a wine cellar," he says. "And a bunker. And we have quite a few cupboards."

"You don't drink wine! And Edward, I'm way too uncomfortable about this."

"You're right, of course we don't drink anything that needs storing in a cellar, but Carlisle wanted this to be a luxury home, that we could sell if we ever want to. I understand that you're worried, but they've each got enough dope in them to sedate an orca, and the wolves are nearby to keep watch. Now Tamara, while you were asleep last night I went and sorted your place out. It's ready for you to go back to as soon as you and Allyson wish it. Of course, you're more than welcome to remain here, and I speak for my family, not just myself."

We're in the kitchen, and I'm ravenously demolishing cereal and toast, to his amusement. And also fascination. He seems fixated on my mouth, watching closely and swallowing perceptibly when I lick my lips to catch the drops of milk, or dart out my tongue to catch crumbs.

"You need to tell me about this Volturi business," I remind him, at which he blinks.

"Uh - " he says, dragging his gaze back to my eyes.

"Tamara, excuse me," Carlisle interrupts, coming in silently. "Our patient survived the night. I am beginning to feel optimistic."

He takes me along the hall to John's room, and incredibly, John looks marginally better. It's nothing like the transformation that has taken place with Allyson, but he's still breathing, and his pallor is not as severe as last night.

"Can we give him more?" I ask.

"I don't think that would be advisable for you until a little later, but eat up today. You need a lot of nutrients - red meat and green leafy vegetables. I'll see how you are this afternoon. He is comfortable now, and his condition is stable," Carlisle replies.

Edward leaves me with a lingering goodbye, consisting of an embrace we're both reluctant to break, and chaste, though ardent kisses. We're watched with great interest by all his siblings except Rosalie, who shrugs with what looks like boredom. Alice is winking and grinning, Jasper is smiling fondly, and Emmett looks hopeful.

"Could you transform into something, Tamara? A boa constrictor?" he asks. "With the kind of grip you've got on Edward, maybe you could do some decent damage."

Edward is still admonishing him as they all walk out to their cars.

I spend the morning with Allyson again, and tell her what transpired the night before.

"Those Eaters are here, in the house?" she gasps.

"Carlisle and Edward have assured me they've been rendered completely harmless. They're tranquilized and apparently they're shackled as well," I say. I know they're monsters, but whoever the Volturi are, I hope their business doesn't take too long. Alyson's torturers are sentient beings, and even torturers deserve some dignity. Treating prisoners without decency makes monsters of their captors, and Carlisle has decreed that they be treated well, but I just want them gone.

"Now, Tamara, is there anything you might want to tell me? Anything you're holding back?" Allyson asks, and I know her intuition has zeroed in on the frequency of Edward's appearances in my conversation, and the way I say his name.

"I'm not exactly holding anything back, Mom, it's more that I'm waiting for the right time," I say, but I'm going to have to come out with it, since she's guessed anyway. I've never talked about a boy or man to her before, ever.

"I'm in love with Edward."

"I knew it!" she beams.

"There's just one little thing, though. He is a member of this rather unusual family. They're all adopted, but they're all related in a way," I go on.

She frowns, trying to follow me, then the lines across her forehead get even deeper.

"Oh, Tamara. He's a vampire?"

"Pretty much. Well, yes. But they've all taken an oath, the Cullens, they don't kill people. None of them have fed on human blood for decades. And they're not going to slip - they have each other for support, and they're all committed, and it makes them outcasts in the vampire world. They're devoted to one another."

My Allyson is nothing if not empathetic. She and I have loved one another for so long, and have been ever hopeful and supportive of one another finding a mate, even though it's seemed doubtful, given our uniqueness. Now despite misgivings, Allyson wants the best for me.

"Tamara, I'd give anything to see you happy, and you're far from a fool. You're not going to accept anything less than someone who deserves you, and I know loving a human inevitably presents a sad long term outcome for you and me. I have wished that we would somehow find people like us, with our strange lack of ageing, but it hasn't happened, and we have lived so long without partners, you and I. I'm older than you, and it doesn't get easier. I guess that's why I threw the rule book out of the window and became involved with John. If you have faith in your Edward, then I do too, because I have faith in you, and in your judgement. When do I meet your handsome prince?"

"This afternoon!" I smile, arms gently around her. She has accepted the idea of a vampire son-in-law! Having met Esme and Carlisle first has probably helped, as has the fact that Edward and his family are superheroes who have saved our lives. But I have other news for her.

"About John," I say. "He's here, and you're well enough to get up and walk now. Do you want to see him? He's very, very ill, but Carlisle cautiously thinks he's on the mend."

"Oh, John," she sighs, and I take her in to look at him, and he appears even better than this morning. He's sleeping peacefully and the monitors show a strong and regular heartbeat. My blood is working wonders, although he still looks like a gang of tigers got hold of him.

"Come to the kitchen, Mom, let's see if Esme has any steak," I say, and I explain as I go.

"Your blood? It's helping John?" My mother is amazed. I saw how her eyes softened when she looked at him. She has known she will lose him of course, but she had thought it wouldn't be for years. Then she thought she already had. This reprieve that may be happening will speed her recovery more than the miraculous properties of our unexplainable plasma.

Esme is delighted to cook for us, and she does so, with me marveling how well she and Allyson get on. It's as if they've known one another for years, and as if my mother has put aside or overcome her antipathy to what Esme is.

After we eat, Allyson wants to sit with John, and I go and play the piano for a while, very badly I might add. I don't how people can coax a tune out of the things with only ten fingers to call on, and I have to compose my own pieces as I can't manage to play anybody else's. Probably the racket I'm making is none too tuneful or pleasant.

Eventually I give up and read for a while. Then mid-afternoon, well before any school bell would ring, I hear the roar of a motorcycle outside. Jacob! Edward is so conscientious he wouldn't skip school just because of a near-death experience, but apparently, Jacob isn't. I open the front door with a huge smile, and wrap my arms around the heroic lycanthrope.

"Hey, Tamara, I must rescue you more often, if that's the reception I'm going to get," he grins, delighted.

"Please can I meet your friends, so I can thank them personally? Were they at the beach party?" I ask.

"Oh, you don't have to hug them. Just me, several times, and I'll pass the message on," he says, and then, "Tamara, I thought that leech broke your neck. I saw your head flop, but I could still hear your heart. What the hell happened?"

"Ah. Well, I'm full of surprises, Jacob. My neck is okay. It would take more than one bad-tempered ill-intentioned vampire to hurt me."

He regards me quizzically.

"I don't understand. You mean I raced through the night until my paws bled, risking life and limb and you didn't need my help? What's with that?"

We're drifting outside, across the front lawn, away from the house.

"Oh, no Jacob, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that at all. I was being facetious. I certainly did need your help - that vampire was so strong I couldn't have held him off any longer. He was about to bite me, and I think I would have gone into shock, and then God knows what would have happened. No, it's just that I haven't told anybody about myself for my whole life, and in the last few days it feels like I'm shouting it from the rooftops. You were right that time you said I'm different. I can do unusual things with my body."

I know that last bit came out wrong as soon the words leave my lips. His eyes light up, his mouth curves into a cross between a grin and leer, but definitely tending more towards the leer, and he says, "What kind of things?"

He's got such a funny little-boy eagerness, crossed with a look that's a mixture of lust and skepticism. I shouldn't play with him, so I won't tease, but -

"Oh, this, for instance," I say breezily, and stretch up. He's about six-four, or six-five, and so am I. It shouldn't be provocative.

"Whoah!" he says in wonder. "Fuck! Oh, sorry. What are you?"

"You tell me and we'll both know," I answer lightly, shrinking back down again. "And I can do this," I add, bending into improbable curves before straightening up.

"So last night - ?"

"I moved the bones in my neck, where he was holding me, to see if it would convince him that I was already injured and he wouldn't have to hold on to me so tight," I tell Jacob. "I thought it might give me a chance to get away."

"Well, it convinced me that you were injured. I was terrified," he asserts. "But hey, I like that trick with your height. Do that one again." He smiles down at me. "Come back up here. Or I'll meet you halfway," and he tilts his head towards mine. He seems to be angling for a kiss.

I jump backwards. "Oh no, you don't! We're not going to be friends if you're going to do that, Jacob. Do you understand? Friends without benefits. I've got a boyfriend, and I'm just not interested in you that way at all. At all."

He sighs. "You were on Saturday. Or you could have been."

"Saturday seems like last century to me now. And yes, I know I looked at you. It's pointless and dishonest to say I didn't. But I already liked Edward, I just didn't know how he felt about me. And now I do know. It's mutual."

"He's a freak," Jacob grumbles.

"I'm a freak, too."

"It's not in my nature to kill you. That's got to be a point in my favor."

"He's not going to kill me either."

"I'll be around, if he's too cold for you. I'm warm, remember. Much warmer than he is."

I can see I'm going to need to be stern. Jacob's jealousy is flattering, but I could see it coming in the way of us enjoying spending any time together.

"If you think I'm going to let you be around, you can stop talking like that," I say.

"Tamara, I'm only telling you the truth. Things have been pretty dramatic, and you haven't really had a lot of time to think this through. You and I had an instant attraction to one another, and you've even admitted it. You don't owe Ice-boy anything just because you met him first. Every time he's with you he'll be struggling not to hurt you. It wouldn't be like that with me. I'll never hurt you."

But then, I can't tell him how to feel.

"Look, Jacob, I'm sorry. But you can't be too heart-broken. You've only known me a few days," I offer.

"Don't belittle my feelings! Sometimes you can just know straightaway," he insists.

"Well, yes, you're right," I acknowledge, because I was patronizing him, and because I think somewhere inside me I knew straightaway with Edward, even though it took weeks for me to recognize it, for the truth to come to the fore.

"Hey, I'll belittle myself, okay?" I suggest, and I do. I go down to three feet tall.

Jacob snorts with laughter, and I return to normal, and we chat a bit more, but then he says he'd better go.

"If your beloved boyfriend finds me here he might try to start some trouble," he says, looking aggrieved. "I wouldn't mind, because I'd get to kick his ass, but I know you wouldn't like it."

He speeds away on the bike, and I return inside, knowing Edward will be home soon. I can't wait. In the meantime I go to check on John, who is conscious, and talking with Allyson. Actually, she's doing all the talking, just chit-chatting to distract him, as his eyes look haunted. He still seems too weak to speak. He wouldn't even begin to understand the ordeal he's been through, and would still have no idea what any of us are. It will be a while before we can explain he was attacked by vampires who were after his immortal girlfriend, and he was rescued by other vampires, who were being helped by werewolves, and he's received just over half a quart of venom-resistant blood to help him get over his fatal injuries and aid him in the healing process. That's some pretty heavy information.

At quarter past three, Edward arrives home, so he hasn't only broken the speed limit, he's pretty much broken the sound barrier to get here. Quiet though the murmur of his volvo is, I hear its approach in the driveway.

"I've told Allyson about us, and she's looking forward to meeting you," I tell him at the door. "She's formed some sort of secure attachment to your mother, and we'll probably have to peel them apart in order to get her home. John's doing remarkably well, considering. How was school?"

"Very dull without you," he smiles down at me.

I'm having to develop a coping mechanism for his smile. All the earlier stares were trouble enough but this new expression of his is tender, intimate, promising, and still very intense. "We've got our play to put on, you know," he adds.

"The stupid play!" I gasp, having forgotten all about it.

"Next week," he nods.

"I haven't given it a moment's thought. Have you? How are we going to finish it in time? Can we ask for an extension?" I fret. At school I am normally never behind in anything.

"We'll be fine," he assures me, and his arm slips around my waist. Not at this rate, we won't. We'll kiss instead of doing anything.

And there is something else that needs attending to, anyway. An introduction to my mother.

Allyson is still in John's room, and I lead Edward in there.

"Mom, this is Edward Cullen," I announce.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Ms North," my boyfriend says, extending a hand.

"Oh, Edward, I think you can call me Allyson, don't you?" Mom answers, smiling. His beauty really is quite unsettling, and she swallows, blushing slightly. I'm relieved she has enough blood to do it.

"Allyson, I'm glad to see your recovery is proceeding so well. I hope you're comfortable and you have everything you need?"

He sounds stilted and formal, and it occurs to me he's been nervous about this. He needs her to approve of him.

"Yes, Carlisle and Esme have been taking care of me very well. Tamara and I are extremely appreciative of all the kindness your family have extended to us." Oh no, she's stilted and formal as well. Neither of them are being themselves. Well, Edward is a bit, as he's always very courteous.

I usher him out of there after a few minutes and the rest of his siblings come noisily into the house.

"There's a great big truck pulling up outside. What's that for?" Emmett asks.

"It must be my chocolates!" I exclaim, remembering what Edward promised me last night.

"Actually, I think it will be our bed," he replies.

Alice starts up with the winking, and mouths, "I told you so!"

I'm extremely embarrassed, and I think Edward is too, and there's plenty of guffawing from Emmett. Edward turns to him and hisses, "If you ever verbalize that thought, or anything like it, I will rip your tongue out and stuff it down your throat," as the delivery men take the bed upstairs and assemble it, and Emmett answers, "Well, stop trawling around in my head little brother, if you don't like what you find."

Surprisingly, it's Rosalie who brings us linen.

"Edward's sulked for years. Having you around appears to be improving his mood," she pouts, which may just mean that she's going to put up with me. It's not exactly a welcome, but it's probably as gracious as she can be.

When everyone's cleared off, and the bed is made, Edward and I sit down on the edge of it. I'm looking at my knees and I don't know what he's looking at because I can't see him.

"So Jacob was here again," he remarks.

"Yes, he came to check on me," I agree.

"I hope he behaved himself."

"He did. I think we have an understanding," I say, hoping it's true.

"I think you have an understanding, Tamara. I don't know that he quite understands it yet."

"Why do you say that?" I ask him.

"Last night he was gloating that you kissed him, on his muzzle."

Edward emphasizes the last word, and actually laughs. "Seriously, though. Don't think you can go being affectionate with him when he's in dog mode. He'll completely misinterpret it."

"You're being quite bossy."

"I have the advantage, or perhaps I should call it the misery, of knowing what he's thinking," Edward says, and moves closer, sliding an arm around my shoulders.

"And yes, I suppose I am being quite bossy. Do you mind?" he murmurs. I don't mind anything when he's this close. All I'd mind would be if he moves further away.

"Do I feel warm to you?" I ask, remembering a previous thought, and putting a hand up to his cheek.

"Yes," he murmurs, capturing my hand and holding it to him.

"How warm?"

"I can't really quantify it, I don't know. I don't have a system of measurement for it. But yes, your hands feel warm. Your lips are warm, and the inside of your mouth is indescribable."

I lose my breath at this, and simply stare at him and he leans slowly to find my mouth with his. We check his claim for a minute or two - or seven or eight, maybe longer. When we break apart I put my hand to the back of his neck, unwilling for the kiss to be over, but he murmurs, "You have to eat. Carlisle will be asking if you're willing to donate more blood. Have you had red meat today?"

"Yes, half a longhorn steer. Mom ate the other half. I think Esme was repulsed. She thought we were so nice, and then she saw us consume a ton each of dead animal."

He laughs. "I'm sure she still thinks you're nice. I know I do, and I've seen you eat."

I'm just watching his mouth as he speaks, and he can see I'm doing it of course, and then I start looking at the rest of him, and he can see that too, and he bites his lip, which is uncharacteristically self-doubting of him, and says, "Can we have a talk about this bed business, and all that it entails?"

"Of course," I answer.

"It's been very sudden, what has happened and is happening between you and me. I've waited a very, very long for you to come along, and Tamara, there is no hurry for me. You're not going to die tomorrow, or next week, probably not ever, and it looks like you're not getting any older either, and I would like to have a courtship. You might think that's very old-fashioned of me, but we can take our time getting to know each other, in every sense. I don't want to just jump straight into bed, that's what I'm saying. I want to savor every moment with you, not have them hurtle by because we're in a mad headlong rush to get somewhere. I want us to build intimacy and trust slowly, but of course, you have to agree. I'm trying not to be too bossy again, but that is truly what I want," he states.

"Oh," I reply, thinking. A courtship sounds fine to me, although so does jumping straight into bed. But he's right - there's no need to rush, although I already want him. "How long a courtship?" I ask.

"I don't know - I wouldn't think we could set a date and mark it in our diaries. I think we'll just know. We'll take it in stages, and we'll just know when the time is right. I have never had a lover, you will be my first and only. I will love you utterly, but I want us both to be ready."

"Oh, Edward, I've had lovers, and I've even been married, but it was a long time ago. Girls used to have to be married or be nuns or prostitutes, they didn't have many choices - often if they had no man to provide for them they faced a bleak future. I can't undo those days. I became fond of some of the men but I have never truly loved a man before you. I have brought up a child, too, an adopted one. She is long dead, and I loved her more than anything. There is a price to pay for longevity, and that is sorrow."

We'd been talking about sex, and now I've managed to get death into the conversation again. It's like I'm obsessed with it.

"You and I won't have to suffer the loss of each other," he says, and holds me as I shed a tear for my lost daughter who died an old woman, while I remained as I still am. But he's right - all things being equal, I can't lose him.

"But, yes, I agree whole-heartedly to a courtship," I affirm, looking at him. He kisses the tears trembling on my eyelashes.

"And you know our play?" I say. "I think we should ditch the whole thing and start again. I want to write about something positive, and affirming, and heartlifting. Can we write about love?"

.

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Peepsies, I love y'all. No-one sent me a truckload of chocolate, probably because I haven't given anybody my address. In the past I have asked for an alsation, and not received that either, probably because you can't post them. However, expressions of opinion are free and easy to send. Why not favor me with yours? If you like we could have intercourse. You know - a dialogue.