Disclaimer: I like thinking I've got my shit together but then I'm slapped with the truth. Also, I don't own Twilight yada yada.

Kate Denali was in a godawful mood.

Well, she was normally in one, Royce reflected, but this time it was particularly bad. She was wound up with stress and seemed to think that no matter where she turned a person was out to get her. So, she was paranoid and a pain in the ass.

"How many times do I have to tell you to take a fucking chill pill?" Royce groused, hunching even further over the keyboard. He'd been in front of the computer screen for endless hours, and he wasn't glad one fucking bit about the distraction she posed.

"Until you actually give me a reason to fucking calm down, King," Kate snapped, as always not willing to take any shit from anybody. "What's the hold up?"

Christ, he wanted to put his foot through her ass.

"There is no hold up, you paranoid chick. I told you before it'd be ready in two days, and today's the second day. It'll be ready shortly."

Kate huffed.

"Shortly? What the hell does that mean? Because I've been watching you type away codes for the last twelve hours and you're still not ready! Are you trying to pull one over on me?" Kate all but screeched, making Royce flinch and roll his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you like to do my job then? Last I checked you didn't even finish high school you narcissistic b-"

"Edward Cullen would've done this much faster," Kate said coolly. "And he'd have been nicer to look at, you weasel-looking soap-for-brains dickwad."

Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen, Edward shitting Cullen! There was that fucking name again, that name that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Everything was about how oh so smart the guy was, or how dreamy, or how talented and tender towards that fucking girlfriend of his.

Fuck, he was going to have fun ruining Edward Cullen's career.

Run, run, run.

The clear morning sky rose above him, making him grin at the crack of dawn. He'd always loved seeing the sunrise during his morning workout; he'd never particularly seen himself as a morning person before, but if he thought about it, he really did like mornings.

Come on, feel the noise. Girls-

And... the morning run was ruined, Emmett realized, sighing as he saw the approaching figure.

"Emmett," Rose heaved in surprise, slowly coming to a stop. It wasn't every day that you found your ex-boyfriend at the park on a Tuesday morning at the asscrack of dawn. "Hi, didn't think I'd find you around here." It sounded friendly enough, but Emmett knew she was questioning his seemingly coincidental run that had led him near her apartment complex.

In all honesty, it was an accident. He had deliberately avoided coming around here since that day he'd seen her morning-after look, and he'd done a pretty good job of it. Two weeks was nothing compared to the decade he hadn't seen Rosie, but he had to admit it hadn't been that much easier. The only real comfort he had was knowing how to contact her, which previous to finding out she could be his in with Flynn, he hadn't known. Maybe because of his job he could've found out sooner, but it would've been an abuse of power as well as rubbing salt on an open wound. And so the years had gone by.

"I live nearby," Emmett explained, and at her expression, he rushed to elaborate. "Have for the last five years. It's just that I usually run in the other direction, but a friend of mine got mugged in my usual trail two days ago so I'm steering clear."

And a part of me has been itching to run into you.

He didn't admit to that.

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me before?" Rose asked, and even though Emmett knew this was a serious conversation, he couldn't finish convincing his eyes to not stare below her neck. In all fairness, was it his fault he had such a hot ex he couldn't get over? And that said ex was wearing a tight tank top and breathing hard to catch her breath? It was kind of hard not to stare at boobs he'd once had free access to for years.

He'd officially become the creepy ex-boyfriend.

"I think we both know why, Rosalie," Emmett said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Hearing her full name coming from his lips on his own free will hurt something deep inside of her, something she thought she'd buried a long time ago.

"He was just a one night stand," she found herself explaining despite herself. Why was she giving excuses? She was over thirty, had her own career and yet here she was feeling small in front of the man that had once made her feel so big. She owed him nothing... except maybe she wasn't giving out excuses. Maybe she was giving out her version of an apology.

"Oh. Well, good for you then," Emmett said uncomfortably, trying not to let on how badly she was crushing him inside. "But you don't have to explain it to me, really."

She knew this, she thought while blushing.

"Are you dating anyone right now?"

What the hell, Rose? After a year of seeing him nonstop at your doorstep, you ask him now?

Stopping her inner monologue, Emmett offered the information.

"No. Haven't for a while now," Emmett shrugged, and when Rose asked him how long, he shrugged again. "Six years or so."

Her mouth dropped open.

"That long? Why?"

Not that she cared. Not at all.

Instead of lying to her (he'd always hated doing so even though it had been a necessity) he told her the truth for once.

"Because I realized no woman compared to you," he said simply. "After a while I just got tired of looking."

The only thing Rosalie could do was frown because she didn't quite know how to reply to that. Was he expecting her to reply a certain way and if so, how? Emmett, being experienced on reading her facial expressions, immediately set to clearing up the ensuing doubts.

"I'm not trying to guilt you into anything," he said, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than he'd been when he'd set out to run. "It is what it is. I'm not trying to rope you somehow into dating me again or to say anything but what I mean. You've always known me best, Rosie," Emmett mumbled sadly, a piece of his heart stretching and shrinking in response to his pain. "I've never been the type to have secret intentions."

It's like the word had somehow become a trigger for her, and Rose, who'd been softening and relaxing at his words, suddenly recoiled. Secrets again.

"Did you already forget why we broke up?" Rose asked sharply. "Your secrets. So don't start telling me now about how honest you are, Emmett Cullen. I spent far too long worrying about what you kept from me to forget."

Emmett frowned, thinking of all the things he'd shared with her, the openness he'd only ever had with her that would've helped his relationship with his family.

"What secrets? I never..." he trailed off, finally catching on to what she meant. He sagged. "Oh, that."

"Yes, that," Rose snarked.

For once in his life, Emmett took a risk. One that he knew had a 50/50 chance of being taken well or being told off.

"It wasn't like that, Rose," he sighed. "I couldn't tell you anything because of my job at the CIA."

He'd kept it such a secret for so long that it was incredibly odd to confess —his own family hadn't known until Edward's takedown, and he had never told friends or girlfriends about what he did. Some he hadn't told because he didn't trust they could keep the secret, while others had been left in the dark for their own protection. Rosalie had always been in the latter category, but now he found himself thinking that maybe it was time to enlighten her for the protection of her soul. It had been so many years and yet she'd lived this whole time thinking her first boyfriend had been hurtfully secretive or -heaven forbid- unfaithful.

"You work for the CIA," Rosalie repeated, and though she was about to start sarcastically laughing, Emmett's expression stopped her. He'd always liked teasing her, but he'd never been a liar despite his secrets. He'd never sought to hurt her, and Rosalie was reluctant to think he'd changed this side of himself in the years they'd been apart.

"I'm a double Political Science and International Relations major. I know Arabic, Russian and Spanish. I always told you I was aiming for a governmental job. You know me, Rose. Then and now, you knew what my passions were. I always laid all the information at your feet, ready to tell you, but I wasn't ready. And when I finally was, you weren't anymore." Emmett shrugged, trying to convey through his body language the helplessness he felt. That he wasn't trying to point fingers, that he wasn't faultless nor solely at fault, that he didn't really blame her.

A strong wind flew past them, reminding them that they were in the middle of the park, at sunrise, at an ungodly hour. Emmett saw Rose shiver, and frowning, he shook off his windbreaker. It wasn't sweaty, seeing as he'd only been running for ten minutes when they bumped into each other, and even if it had been, Emmett knew that Rose had never been the type of girl to care.

"Here," he said, handing it to her. "Don't go catching a cold."

Face ashen, she took the jacket from him wordlessly, just shrugging it on to ward off the elements. On her peripheral vision she saw another man run past her, and Rose suddenly became aware that they were in a very public space talking about a very private matter.

"We shouldn't talk about this here," Rose muttered, looking down at the floor. "Let's go to my place. I'll make breakfast."

She started walking, and Emmett followed. He always had, and he couldn't imagine a reality where he didn't immediately go wherever she was. The years that Rosalie hadn't been in his life had been empty -not in the sense that nothing ever made him happy, because some things did, but in the sense that no matter what he'd done or who he'd dated he never quite felt like he was having the time of his life. Without Rose, life was good. With Rose, it was better.

They reached her apartment in a matter of minutes, and vaguely thinking about the time Emmett realized it was only twenty past six. They had about an hour before they both had to get on with their lives, more or less, and he was dreading to think what an hour together under these circumstances would entail.

What's she thinking? I know she tends to shut down whenever she's processing something, but she hasn't said anything in fifteen minutes. Hell, I fucking stepped on her cat's tail and she didn't say anything. Is she mad? Shocked? Horrified? Sad? Talk to me, Rosie.

But Rosalie just kept cooking bacon, cracking eggs and pulling out more food from the fridge. Some things you never forgot, like the fact that your ex-boyfriend looked like a bear and ate like a mammoth. Emmett, like he'd done during their days together, pulled out plates and utensils and set them on the table.

Breakfast ready, Rose and Emmett sat in front of each other. Emmett, waiting for Rose to speak. Rose, trying to put her thoughts together. It seemed like a long time in silence for the two of them, but inevitably, the most impatient one broke it first.

"Rose, please say something."

It was the only incentive she needed to blurt out everything.

"What the fuck do you mean, you work for the CIA Emmett Cullen? Since when? No, I guess I know when. You hid something so important from me? No, of course you did, you didn't even keep pictures of your mom in our apartment. For fuck's sake, you always even signed our packages as Emmett McCarty for some unknown r-"

Rosalie paled.

Her fork, which had been just about to stab into a piece of bacon, stopped abruptly. Her eyes were locked on Emmett's, mouth uncertain between locking tightly and falling agape.

"You're Agent McCarty," she suddenly breathed out, looking like her eyes were ready to bug out of her head.

Emmett frowned.

"No, I'm Agent Cullen, Rose," he said, not understanding what connection she was making.

"You don't understand, Emmett," Rosalie said, putting down her fork with a shaking hand. "I know of Agent McCarty. I was told that an Agent McCarty from the Counterterrorism department had been the one to pursue an investigation on Edward Cullen. That he'd contacted the woman who lured Edward into giving up his secrets, Isabella Swan."

Emmett was suddenly, for once in his life, not hungry. He had a bad feeling about all this.

What Rosalie figured was that if Emmett had come clean about such a secret part of his life, it was time she did the same in return.

"Emmett... I'm the FBI agent that went undercover to take care of Royce King. I was the key witness in the investigation against him."

Hi! So, I know that this chapter was mostly Rose and Emmett, but I figured it was a storyline worth talking about that I can't just suddenly spring up on people. Also, sorry it took me longer than usual to post, but it was exam week and yesterday I tried writing more but got caught up in a project (I was writing about Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease and somehow wound up talking about the Fore tribe mythology lol). Thanks for all the continued support guys!

Leah.

P.S. How many of y'all were surprised? Rosalie's Blue Bear! I mean, I knew I kind of gave it away like a chapter or two ago, but I hadn't been clear enough. Another mystery down, huh?

P. P. S. I'm really sorry if I haven't answered one of your reviews. I haven't been getting notifications from FanFiction whatsoever for the last two weeks, and they haven't gotten back to me on that despite having sent them mail. I do try to go into the review section and reply, but I forget who I've already replied to, and life's hectic so I forget more often than remember. I'm really sorry about that, but I promise I do my best to read all of them. :))