Hey everyone :D

Thank you to faireyfan, susayq and les16. I owe them so much.

Happy Birthday to Bellalove72! You share it with my little girl so it's extra special ;)

There was a warm boy curled around her back when Bella opened her eyes. Over her shirt, his hand was splayed high around her ribcage, his index finger tucked under her breast, pinkie down by her belly button, his thumb reaching for the thump of her heart. It seemed as if he was trying to cover as much territory as possible, holding her with a possessive light touch, if there was such a thing. For now though, it was a modest position… with all sorts of immodest possibilities.

Thoughts of immodest possibilities with Edward made her breath come out in choppy little bursts, and she wondered if he was awake enough to feel the sudden craziness of her heart. She hoped not. It was way too embarrassing. Especially since he was the one to put a halt to what they were doing last night. Actually, she was glad he stopped… later, after she got over the absolute mortification of being rejected. She'd never done that before, offering herself to a boy like that. It was shameful, liberating and… in every way incredible, like nothing she'd ever felt before. An illicit thrill ran through clear to her toes when she thought about that soft needy sound he'd made when she'd pressed her chest against his and kissed him back, even though it'd stung the hell out of her lip. Yeah, it had hurt, but holy crow, it'd so been worth it.

But then, there on the edges of her conscience was that shame, too, because she wasn't that kind of girl. This wasn't her, lying in bed with a guy she'd only known less than twelve hours. It didn't matter that they did nothing more than kiss. He was wrapped around her for goodness sake. She wasn't even wearing a bra! What must Edward think of her? And then suddenly being close to Edward made her think of those boys on the steps of the lake house, and the things they'd said. The way they'd looked at her, they'd stared at places polite boys shouldn't look, they had a sort of coldness in their eyes she'd never encountered before.

But that wasn't Edward, she reminded herself. Edward had saved her.

Edward had said that he'd never hurt her.

So she made herself be still, pretending that her frenzied heartbeat was not panic, but still excitement. Why was this so confusing?

Why couldn't she just… get away from these feelings? She yearned to disappear. She ached for the childhood bedroom that she'd just packed up for college… the stuffed Snoopy she'd left guarding her bed, the tiger-eye rocks on her windowsill… that little space inside her closet where she used to draw and listen to her dad's Pink Floyd CDs.

Her stomach flipped, not in a good way. What would her dad think about Edward?

And that did it. Thinking about Charlie frowning under his mustache and watching her from heaven was sufficient enough to make her try to squirm out of Edward's hold and into the bathroom so she could brush her teeth.

Except his hand tightened around her. And he was so close she actually felt him swallow before he hummed into her hair.

"Wait," he murmured in a raspy voice. "Stay. Just for a few more minutes."

"Okay," she said. And there really was no other answer. Edward wanted her to stay. The notion made her perfectly giddy and her stomach flipped again. In the good way.

"What the fuck, Em? I thought you said your knee was fine?" Edward gaped at the way Emmett was hobbling himself toward the kitchen. He hadn't been walking that way in front of Rosalie.

"It is fine. I just twisted it. I just need to go see Jas," he muttered in a short clip. "He'll fix it."

"Let me drive then. You can prop it in the back, okay?"

"No. I'm driving." He rummaged around in the cabinets for a minute and then gave up, frustrated. "Advil?" he asked quietly, glancing at Edward. "Just to keep the swelling down. It doesn't hurt."

"Right," Edward said softly, finding the bottle in a drawer and tossing it.

"Thanks."

Emmett was pale, and the hair at his temples was damp, from perspiration or the shower, Edward couldn't tell. "Jesus, Em… here." He ran a glass of water for him when Emmett swallowed a small handful of the tablets dry. "How many did you take?"

Em braced his hands on the counter and bowed his head. "Not too many. I weigh almost 290lbs, alright? I know how much to take."

"Sure, man. I know you do." Edward kicked the side of the counter in a purely recreational fashion. "I hope they work for you; I've had a splitting headache for hours that I can't get to go away."

"Look. The press can't hear about this, okay? There won't be a problem here but the closer we get to Jasper's and campus… there'll be people who'll get on the horn to the fans, fucking message boards and then we'll have news crews up my ass and Coach will just… aw, hell. It's probably nothing, right? Jas will fix it. That's his job. He'll know what to do."

Edward hesitated. "Why would people notice what you're doing now? It's not even fall yet."

"Don't be a dumbass, E. You've lived here enough to know that people go to church on Sunday but their real religion is every other day of the week. Doesn't matter what season it is. People down here live and breathe college football. I get ten people a day stopping me in the grocery store asking me how I think the season will go, how I'm feeling or whether I think we're gonna beat Auburn this year." He scrubbed his face wearily. "Just… fuck."

"I don't think I ever realized how much pressure you were under," Edward said softly. His eyes suddenly widened. "I mean, are under. Are."

"It's alright." Emmett waved him off and settled back on the barstool, visibly trying to shake off his mood. He took a good, hard look at his best friend. "Edward… man you look like shit. Didn't you get any sleep?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "A little."

Em drained his water. "Rose is packing a few things." He swiveled in his seat to check the hallway and then turned back to Edward. "Bella… you bringing her? I don't feel right about her staying here by herself. Rose said she wasn't going to make her come but…" he drummed on the counter, agitated. "She'd probably come if you asked her to, right?"

A small nod. "I'll take care of it."

"Good, good," he stared into space before focusing back to Edward. "Man, I can't believe those assholes last night," he said in a loud whisper. "I made Rose call that anonymous police hotline last night. Evidentially that fucker has all kinds of meth lab shit at one of his houses right off the Florida State campus. Can you believe that shit? His dad's a fucking senator!" He shook his head. "What an idiot."

Edward's eyes darkened, deadly. "Do you have any idea what they were going to do to those girls?"

"Yeah, but—hey babe," Emmett brightened at Rosalie coming down the hall. Bella trailed behind her, an unreadable expression on her face. Edward moved to meet her.

"We'll catch you guys in about… 30 minutes?" Edward said quietly to Em as he backed out of the kitchen and turned around. "Hey beautiful," he smiled at Bella. "Come out with me for a bit."

There was a park outside of the apartment complex, complete with swings, pigeons and an ice cream man.

Edward's stomach pitched every time he looked at Bella's swollen lip. She'd refused a bag of ice, but he doubted she'd refuse ice cream. Plus, he thought getting out doors for a bit before they got back into the car would be good.

"Well that was a lucky guess," Bella smirked up at him over the top of her dripping cone.

"What," Edward said in a distracted way, as his eyebrows came together. He grabbed her arm so he could bend down and swipe at her ice cream with his tongue. "Sorry," he laughed. "You were about to lose it, really, fudge ripple would've been all over the sidewalk."

"A travesty."

"Yes," he nodded, crinkling his eyes at her, a sideways glance. "So what was lucky?"

"Oh," she hummed into her ice cream, watching the breeze flirt with his hair. "Well, it was a lucky guess that you picked vanilla fudge ripple because that's my favorite."

"Lucky guess, yeah," he said down to his shoes, burying the memory of Bella standing in front of the ice cream counter in Mrs. Cope's grocery store, debating whether to branch out and try something new or to stay with her old standby. "You looked like a vanilla fudge ripple kind of girl to me."

"And you look like a mint chocolate chip kind of guy. But I can't believe you wouldn't get anything else."

"I'll survive," he laughed. "But I can't believe that any self-respecting ice cream truck wouldn't have mint chocolate chip." He made an exaggerated pouty face.

"Oh, you've got to quit… it hurts to smile! Don't make me laugh," she stifled a giggle, touching the corner of her mouth with her finger.

He faltered for only a moment before grinning, "I can't help it if I'm naturally so sparkly and entertaining."

She smiled and shook her head and he let her eat her ice cream, a pleasant kind of awkwardness between them as they walked. After she finished, she turned to face him, somewhat resolved. She pulled him over to a shady stone bench.

"So," she began, losing a bit of her courage and fiddling with the wrapper from her cone, "my sister made an anonymous tip to the police last night." She looked up to gauge his reaction. "I mean, I think there's a lot he could get busted for. Drugs and stuff." She blinked at him. "Royce," she explained patiently, because suddenly he was just so quiet.

He sat beside her, motionless, waiting. The shadows of the willow tree played and dappled across their faces as she struggled with what to say.

"I don't know what to do, Edward. I'm afraid to stay in that apartment. I think I need to go home to Jacksonville. My mom isn't there, but…" She rubbed the heel of her hand over her heart, as if to wipe away the sudden twist of pain. She didn't want to leave him. How in the world could she feel this much for someone she'd just met?

He nodded, catching her gaze, holding it. "Come here."

She clutched him around the middle and laid her head on his chest. He stroked her hair. "You don't want to go to Jacksonville."

"No."

"You trust me, right?"

"I don't know. Yes." She sighed, searching herself. "It depends, I guess, on what you think I should do. Maybe."

"You know what we're doing, where we're going. Don't you want to be with your sister?"

"Well, sure, but… she's kind of with Emmett." Bella's voice sounded weary, weighted with the painful echoes of memories, long standing disappointments. Suddenly she deflated and sagged against him on the bench. The last time she'd seen her sister, Rosie was glaring from across the bedroom, angry at the world. And the world included Bella. "I've never understood her, and I've known her my entire life! She's acting like this whole thing didn't even happen last night. She wouldn't talk about it. She didn't even ask about…" Bella reached up and unknowingly touched the darkening bruise on her cheek, hidden by her sunglasses. "I can't believe she reported Royce to the police… I mean, that was huge, I'm proud of her for that but…"

"I think that was all Emmett. He wanted to do more, take you guys to the hospital but she wouldn't budge." His voice rumbled gently under her cheek.

"Oh, that makes sense then," she murmured. "He probably threatened to march her right into the ER if she didn't do something." Edward smelled so wonderful, like the sea and sunshine, a cool breeze at midnight and a turbulent storm way off in the distance. She closed her eyes, breathing him in. She never wanted to leave him, this moment, the quick thump of his heart that matched her own. It should scare her. But it didn't.

"I really didn't mean to be so needy last night," she whispered.

"You weren't," he answered, knowing she was thinking about calling for him from her bed. "I felt better being in there next to you."

"How's your hand?"

"Fine." He flexed experimentally. "A little sore. You're probably sore too."

"It hurts to smile. But I already said that."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, settling his chin on the top of her head.

"Can I just… say something? Why do I feel like I know you? I mean, a part of me is very aware that I know nothing about you. But then the other part… the part that kind of disappears when I try to look too close… that part feels like I've always known you. I'm sure you probably think I'm crazy. And wow… just, horribly cliché." She grimaced.

"No."

"Or that I'm weird and trying to go all stalker on you."

He snorted a laugh.

"Maybe it's like this because I'm just a little seventeen year old nothing."

"You're not-"

"Or maybe this is a sort of Florence Nightingale situation. You know, you saved me, so now you feel attrac—uh, responsible for me."

"Bella…" he drawled with a note of disapproval. "I think you know better than that… at least I hope you do." He pushed her back to see her face, frowning, looking as if he wanted to say something else but opened his bottle of water instead.

"You know that movie Back to the Future?" she asked abruptly.

He choked on his drink.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I know it's old, you probably haven't seen it."

"I have," he sputtered, clearing his throat.

"Oh- well, remember the part where his mom, except she's young then, in high school… remember when she helps Marty when he's hit by the car? And then, well, she kinda falls in love because she's taking care of him."

Edward rubbed his jaw to stifle a grin. This was too good to pass up. "Are you trying to tell me I'm in love with you?"

Bella blushed violently. "No! No, I'm not saying that at all! I didn't- I mean how…" she blew out a fierce breath in exasperation. Here she was trying to be serious, but that smile of his was doing things to her, melting her from the inside out. "I meant that you shouldn't feel obligated to me."

"I don't. Well, not in the way you think." He really needed to see her. Lifting her sunglasses up slowly, he fixed them so that they sat on top of her head like a headband, holding her hair off her face. "There. You like to wear your sunglasses like this."

A flicker of surprise lit her eyes.

"What's between us isn't just obligation, Bella, although I do choose to feel responsible for you. I don't want you to go to Jacksonville," he said softly. "But if you did go, I wouldn't let you go alone." He leaned over, kissing her jaw before moving his lips to her ear. "And just for the record, it would be very easy to fall in love with you."

"You talk as if you've known me for a long time," she whispered, shivering.

"Maybe there's something in me that recognizes something in you." He smiled, dropping his forehead down to touch hers. "That's better than Florence Nightingale, right?"

"Mmmhmm…" Eyes slipped shut; she realized her heart was doing that jittery thing again. She slid her hand around to the back of his neck. It would be so easy to give up to Edward. Maybe she should.

He kissed her gently, mindful of the tender part of her mouth. "We should go," he murmured against her neck after a moment. "They're probably ready."

"Edward, maybe you should take a nap in the car," she frowned at him as they crossed the street. "You look so tired."

"I'm not," he groused, and right on cue, yawned hugely. "Shuddup," he scowled at her, smiling as she giggled. "That was total power of suggestion and you know it."

They sat in the "way back" as Bella called it, the third row of Emmett's giant SUV. Almost immediately, Edward felt the delicious pull of sleep, as he was surrounded by the quiet hum of the engine and Bella's soft hands, smoothing away the smudges under his eyes. She'd insisted on putting his head on her lap so he did, and he had to fight, really fight to stay conscious.

"Why are you fighting it?" she murmured down at him, the curtain of her hair tickling his throat. If she bent down a little further she could kiss him. He wondered if, in the short time they'd known each other this go 'round, if she'd thought about kissing him as much as he'd thought about doing those things to her. God, he was comfortable.

He snapped his eyes open, unaware that they'd closed.

"Edward…" she soothed, "close your eyes…" She sounded far away. He hummed in pleasure as her fingers moved through his hair.

He opened his eyes again. He needed some of those Bugs Bunny toothpicks they used in cartoons to keep eyelids perpetually open.

"You won't forget me, will you?" he slurred, burrowing his nose into her stomach. She smelled like heaven. "If I suddenly disappear?"

"Never," she said conspiratorially, close to his ear. She found it funny and incredibly endearing to make him stretch his chin up a little to keep her nails running through the bristles along his jaw. He was like a big cat. All he needed now was to purr into her lap and she'd be a goner. Not that she wasn't already. "Now why would you disappear?"

"Only Dr Shan knows," he mumbled, a small part of him aware that what he said would be taken as nonsense. "Talk to me Firefly, keep me awake."

"Alright." A whisper. "Tell me about your family." His beautiful green eyes were still open but muted, unfocused. She ran a light thumb over his eyebrow. Any minute now and he'll be snoring…

"There's a lady I know where I'm from…" he said faintly. "She makes wonderful pies. All kinds."

Bella hummed at him, grazing her fingers through the hair over his ear. "You're dreaming, Edward… you're dreaming with your eyes open," she murmured.

"She makes pecan for you… that's your favorite."

She smiled to herself. Two lucky guesses in one day. "In Chicago?"

"Nonono… Summerside." He sighed, a smile flitting across his face, eyes finally closed.

She looked at him thoughtfully, somehow frowning without losing her smile. "I thought you said you were from Chicago."

"Hmmm, that's where I'm from…" A long pause. She thought he'd fallen asleep. "But where I'm really from…" he mumbled, "well, that's different."

Clear as mud. She smiled, tracing the whorls of his ear. Fireflies, pies and Summerside… sounded like a lovely place, for sure. But he was just talking silly. Then he curled up on his side, his mouth inches from her belly button, his live weight arm slung back around her waist. His other arm covered her bare knees as he used her for his very own pillow. "Edward…" she whimpered, the silk slide of his hair and rasp of his cheek, sensory overload for her poor thighs.

And then he really was asleep, his chest rising and falling in deep rhythmic breaths, painting her lap with warm puffs of air that somehow turned into tingling, toe-curling stomach flips that made her breath speed up, even as his slowed down. What she wouldn't give for a pad of paper, she thought, hell, even a clean napkin would do at this point. She ached to draw him, even though she was having trouble thinking of much past the needy pulse between her legs.

Edward was unaware of her struggle, caught in a dream and a memory so entwined that he'd be hard pressed to tell which was which when he thought of it later.

"Fate knows no distinction between tragedy and a happily ever after," Dr. Shan said with a shrug and drained his glass. The ice clinked as he set it back on the bar.

"So you're saying that no one… none of us have free will in life? That everything is predetermined? I don't know if I can believe that." Edward refilled the doctor's glass and filled one for himself. "I always thought that the decisions we made shaped our own future."

"Certainly! Certainly they do. The best way to predict the future is to create it, of course. But I believe fate has a way of …recalculating."

"What do you mean?" Edward leaned forward.

"A time traveler could go back and change something… an event, let's say a tragedy, purely for dramatic purposes. You know, tell your wife to take a left instead of a right so that eighteen wheeler won't hit her car head on."

Edward nodded. "Time traveler? I guess this is hypothetical, too, huh."

"Think of fate like your GPS system," Shan smiled slowly, up to the challenge. "Do you have one of those?"

Edward shook his head. "Nah, I pretty much stay put around here." His phone beeped at him from the wine glasses. He smiled as he snatched it up, tapping a few times on the screen.

"Ah, you have an admirer." Shan craned his neck at the little screen, unabashedly curious. "I can read you like a book already, my friend. You have a very expressive face."

"My girlfriend," he laughed, not caring in the slightest what kind of dopey, shit-eating grin was on his face. "She's bringing me cookies."

Dr. Shan's eyes softened. "My wife Tina is a chef. I suppose she figured it was the only way to shut me up long enough to get a word in." He laughed.

They were silent for a moment before Edward prompted the conversation back to where it'd been.

"My dad has one of those GPS systems in his car, back in Chicago."

"Yes! Yes, handy things they are, certainly. What a marvelous invention. You plug in starting and ending points and the system takes care of the in-between. Fate is like that… fate determines the starting point… when you come into the world, for instance."

Edward pictured a hooded God-like figure handing out tiny GPS systems to all the newborn babies of the world. "And the ending point is when you die?" Edward sipped his scotch.

"Oh, I don't know. Death is one of many destinations in life, I suppose. The final destination."

"Good movie," Edward grinned.

Shan looked at him shrewdly. "And true, if you take the Hollywood horror part out of it. The GPS always chooses the path of least resistance… the easiest or fastest way to reach a destination."

"I'm with you," Edward nodded, sliding a hand through his hair. The conversation was getting a bit eerie to tell the truth; even if that wasn't something he was ready to admit.

"So lets say you're following the directions of the GPS, and you come to a crossroads. The GPS says to turn right, but the road's blocked. There's an obstacle in your path of least resistance."

"Okay…"

"So you turn left instead, you challenge the GPS… you disobey the directions. But that doesn't matter right? It's just a machine. All it does is repeat, 'recalculating… recalculating'… showing you where to go until you're back on the right path. And there may be many paths to the same destination."

"But everyone's destination is unique, right? Their own personal GPS of fate." Edward leaned against the bar, restless, agitated for reasons he couldn't explain.

"Your GPS knows all possible paths to the destination, even of you don't. That's why you have it in your car. If you get off track, it won't rest until you've been… recalculated."

Edward threw back his scotch, trying desperately to hold on to the scent of Bella in his nose… the sensation of fingers slipping through his hair. He didn't know why that would be happening here in the bar when she was at home baking cookies but it didn't feel… wrong. He wasn't about to question it, though. It was calming.

Shan continued. "A time traveler, just by being there, is an obstacle in fate's path. He might very well avert some catastrophic event for a time, but fate will recalculate, if you will, and won't rest until the affected people are back on their intended route."

Edward stared, unnerved. "So you're saying that even if all the great tragedies of the world could be prevented, fate would find a way to adjust and come at it from another direction? Jesus, that's utterly depressing Dr. Shan, I gotta say."

"Why do you automatically assume fate is out to get you?" Shan laughed, delighted to invoke such a passionate reaction. "Like I said before, fate knows no distinction between tragedy and a happily ever after. It's just a destination. Your destination."

"But what if fate were wrong in the first place?" Edward said heatedly. "What if a time traveler is fate's way of recalculating? Getting people back on their path. Fixing something that went wrong before." His head flopped down in his hands. Why was this bothering him so much? "I don't know."

"Of course, that's certainly possible," Dr. Shan said quietly with an enigmatic smile. "Because anything is possible. I think you're at Jasper's now, though. The car has stopped. It's time to wake up, Edward."

Bella was slumped beside Edward, her hand still in his hair when he stiffened. She woke immediately to his green eyes blinking up at her owlishly. He gasped and then laughed, seemingly elated.

"I'm here," he said, delighted.

"You're here," she echoed, confused.

He sat up and planted a quick kiss on her surprised lips. "Bella, what if my destination isn't a time or a place… but a person?" he whispered, grazing her cheek with his finger. He moved quickly after that, pulling her with him to scramble out of the car. "Come on, Firefly. I need to make a phone call."

That's quite a revelation! Any guesses as to who Edward wants to call? ;)

Thanks to my sweetie Lettersie17 for suggesting mint chocolate chip for Edward. He's very appreciative.

Love you all, so much! Thank you for reading :)