Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: An early update before I head out for the weekend.

Thanks to all of you who are reading, reviewing, and recommending this little story. I so appreciate your support! A special thanks for Pears13 for recc-ing BT in her last update… and to TWCS, which has BT as a featured story this week.

And of course, extra-special thanks to my uber-betas, Tiffanyanne3 and Aecarlso, who not only do battle weekly with my nemesis, the comma, but keep me on the right track when it comes to plot and continuity.

"If all the possibilities have been eliminated, then it's time to look at the impossibilities."

-Spock, Star Trek

Chapter 20 – Of Making Out and Missing Persons

"You know what I'd really like to do?" Alice asked quietly as she stopped short at the top of the stairs.

"What?"

She turned to me as her old familiar enthusiasm returned. "Make chocolate chip cookies!"

I blinked in confusion. "Cookies? Now? It's after midnight."

Alice shrugged. "I've never had a midnight snack before. And I'm dying to try chocolate chip cookies."

There was a long list of foods Alice was "dying" to try, so earlier in the week we had stocked up on ingredients, planning to methodically work our way down the list.

I was tired after all of the events of the evening, but I was also encouraged that Alice seemed to be feeling better, so I relented.

"Okay, but we'll have to be quiet," I told her. "The others are asleep." Jared and Liza were gone for the weekend, but I didn't want to wake Maggie or, God forbid, Alistair.

Alice gave a restrained squeal and clapped her hands together before we turned to head back down the stairs.

The kitchen was dark and quiet, and we worked companionably, Alice creaming the butter while I assembled the other ingredients. I'd made chocolate chip cookies countless times, so I didn't even need a recipe.

We had the dough mixed together and I was chopping up chocolate, since Tollhouse morsels hadn't been invented yet. Hell, I was pretty sure chocolate chip cookies hadn't been invented yet.

Yeah. Here I was again, screwing up the future one delicious dessert treat at a time.

Anyway, I was creating my own version of chocolate chips when Tom walked through the front door.

"What are you girls doing?" he asked, collapsing into a seat at the kitchen table. "I thought you'd be asleep after all that happened tonight." He absently rubbed his sore stomach again, and I stifled a giggle.

Folding the chocolate bits into the batter, I explained with a shrug, "We decided to make cookies instead." Alice helped me drop spoonfuls of the dough onto the cookie sheet, sneaking a few bites of the raw dough. I couldn't blame her. I had a blob or two myself.

"Besides," I continued, "I figured you'd be the one who was tired after all the kitchen work… and Samantha dropping you to your knees and all." I smiled teasingly at Tom as Alice chuckled, but he didn't even seem embarrassed.

"I should be upset, but I'm not," he admitted. "It's actually nice to know that Samantha could take care of herself if ever the need arose… not that I plan on letting her walk around dark alleys all alone," he added hastily.

Alice popped the cookies into the oven and we sat down with Tom to wait as they baked.

"Where did you learn to do that anyway?" Tom asked.

Alice smirked, and I knew she was thinking of Miss Congeniality. I ignored her.

"My father was a police officer," I replied. "He thought it was important that I learn how to defend myself."

"You think you could teach it to me?" he asked sheepishly. "It might come in handy sometime."

I was quickly becoming the Bruce Lee of 1918 Chicago. Or maybe Obi Wan Kenobi…

I resisted calling Tom "young padawan" and instead just taught him the SING self-defense moves. Alice helped by being his "attacker." I fought giggles as Alice moved behind him, playing the part of the dangerous assailant to perfection, an angry snarl on her face. But it was hilarious to see her try to grab Tom around his neck since she could barely reach. She ended up standing on a chair, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

Then we all ended up just about rolling on the floor in laughter.

Apparently, we were not being as quiet as we thought, because just as I pulled the first tray of cookies out of the oven, Maggie walked drowsily into the kitchen.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked in her sleepy brogue. "It's the middle of the night!"

We all apologized guiltily, then I explained simply, "Alice wanted cookies."

Familiar with Alice's food gusto, Maggie just nodded and sank into the empty kitchen chair.

"What kind of cookies are those?" she asked as I set a plate of them on the table.

"Chocolate chip."

"Huh," Maggie said thoughtfully as she picked up a cookie to examine it. "I've never heard of that before. It smells good, though." She took a tentative bite as we all watched her carefully. She chewed and swallowed, a huge smile lighting her features.

"These are delicious!" Maggie exclaimed. "You have to give me the recipe!"

Uh oh. My mind raced to imagine all the possible consequences of introducing the world to Tollhouse cookies before it was ready. I was wondering if it was possible for Jonas Salk to become addicted to them and gain two-hundred pounds, reduced to living his life huddled on his living room couch instead of discovering the polio vaccine, when Alice piped up.

"It's an old family recipe," she interjected, always ready with a lie when I was floundering. "We could tell you, but we'll have to swear you to secrecy," she added with a conspiratorial smile.

Of course, Maggie readily agreed and I passed on the "old family recipe" that'd been printed on chocolate chip packages for as long as I could remember.

"It's from my French aunt… Nest-lay Toul-ouse," I told her, the "Friends" reference getting another giggle from Alice and a confused look from both Tom and Maggie.

Worries about the future set aside for now, we munched on hot cookies and sipped cold milk, Alice moaning in enthusiastic pleasure as the rest of us laughed and chatted.

Two people from the future and two from the past - one weird, crazy, wonderful kind of family.

x-x

"Alice, are you okay?"

After we'd cleaned up our cookie mess and headed upstairs, Alice had once again become quiet and pensive. As we lay in bed, I found my worry about her returning.

"I just feel kind of weird," she admitted. "It's almost like I'm here… but I'm not really here. I know that doesn't really make sense, but it's how I feel."

I absorbed that for a moment, and felt my heart sink.

"You're… leaving… aren't you?"

She paused, then I heard a quiet, "I think so."

"When?"

"I don't know," she replied, "but soon, I think."

"But why?" I sat up, flicking on the bedside light. "You said you're supposed to help me. How can you help me if you're not here?"

She looked at me with a soft smile. "I think I've done what I was meant to do."

"You mean James."

"Yes."

I didn't want to acknowledge it, but deep down, I realized… I knew that she was right. Alice hadn't come to Chicago to help me with Edward, or even Carlisle. She came to help me with James. To keep me from killing him and making the worst mistake of my life. A mistake that would have changed her future irrevocably.

Deep down, I knew this. But it didn't mean I had to like it.

"What about Edward?" I asked stubbornly.

"I'm not here for Edward," she said quietly. "You are. Just remember, Bella. It's all about Edward."

I choked on unshed tears. "I don't want you to go."

"I know."

Scrambling for a loophole, I asked frantically. "Can't you just do what you did before? Just use your voodoo or whatever and come back!"

Alice sighed. "I don't think it works that way, Bella. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it wasn't anything I did that brought me here. I believe I was sent here… just like you."

"And now you're being sent back," I said on a sob.

"Yes."

That froze the blood in my veins - the thought that we were not in control of any of this. If Alice could be pulled back, that meant I could be too.

"I don't want to go back," I whispered, lying back on the bed.

"I know you don't, Bella," Alice said pityingly. "I don't know what to tell you other than this: You're here for Edward. I'm sure of it. If you want to have a future with him, you have to see this thing through."

"But what if…" I started, still fighting tears, "…what if I save him, then have to leave him?" It was my greatest fear and one I had never before admitted out loud, not even to Alice.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment, seemingly focused on something. I watched her carefully, willing her to reassure me… needing for her to reassure me. She opened her eyes finally and exhaled deeply.

"All I know is that it will be okay," she said with a slight shrug, staring at the ceiling. "Just have faith that everything will be okay."

I didn't have to tell her it was lame. She already knew. Instead, I endeavored to take comfort in her words and tried to set my doubts aside. I climbed over my bed to her cot, grabbing her in a tight hug.

"God, I'm going to miss you," I whispered, tears finally trickling down my cheeks.

"I'm going to miss you too," she replied, her trembling voice betraying her own dismay.

For a few minutes, the only sounds in the little room were muffled sniffles and quiet sobs. I finally released her, getting back in bed and turning off the light.

"Alice, if you do go back, could you do me a favor?" I asked eventually.

"Of course."

I swallowed deeply. "If you get there and I'm… I don't know… in a coma or sleeping or something?" I paused.

"Yeah?"

"Don't wake me up."

x-x

The next morning, I didn't even have to roll over to see the empty bed and the rumpled sheets to know that Alice was gone.

I did, though, and I rose slowly, making my way to the cot, laying my hand on the imprint on the blankets and finding it still warm.

Sitting down on the edge of the cot, I gathered the blankets close to my chest… and I wept.

x-x

Once I'd cried myself out, I made my way downstairs to find Maggie and Tom sipping coffee around the dining room table. I told them Alice had been called away for an emergency – that her father was ill and she had to head back to Iowa right away. They were both sad to see her go, and I assured them she had wanted me to thank them for everything and say goodbye. I kept up the façade that everything was fine, and tried to put on a brave face, pouring myself a cup of coffee and sitting down next to Maggie.

"Bella, did you hear?" Tom asked excitedly, brandishing a copy of that morning's Tribune. "That scoundrel that attacked you has gone missing."

"What?" I asked in shock, reaching for the paper. Sure enough, there was a photo of James on the lower half of the front page under the headline: Springfield Man Disappears. Maggie walked over to look at the article over my shoulder.

"Serves him right," she said angrily, shoving two loaves into the oven. I had told her what happened at the ball, and she was still furious about it. "Maybe someone finally taught him a lesson!"

Tom poured himself some coffee, sitting across from me at the kitchen table.

"He was staying with friends in town," he elaborated. "They said they left him in his room Saturday night, but the next morning he was gone. They weren't that worried at first, but when he didn't show up all day, they called the police."

"Evidently, the police searched the area and found some evidence of foul play." Tom sipped his coffee, shrugging.

"What kind of evidence?" I asked, nerves twisting in the pit of my stomach.

"They wouldn't say anything officially," he said, leaning his elbows on the table as if sharing a juicy secret. "But our source said there was blood on the scene… a lot of blood."

A chill ran through me because I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what happened to James. And I was relatively certain he wouldn't be found.

"Did your source say what they thought happened?" I ran my finger down the article, scanning it for details, but only saw a repeat of what Tom had already told me.

"He didn't say anything specific," Tom admitted, "but he said they are following a few leads."

"I wonder what that means," Maggie mused, walking back over to put the bread in the oven.

"I don't know," Tom replied. "If what happened at the ball is any indication, I'd imagine there is no shortage of people who might want to do him harm."

Maggie huffed. "I'm one of them."

"Well, lucky for you, you have an alibi," I joked. "We were all sitting here eating chocolate chip cookies at the time in question."

"Those were really good cookies," Tom said pointedly.

Maggie laughed. She'd just made another batch that morning and reached into the cupboard above her to pull out a cookie jar, setting it in front of Tom with a thump.

"What, no milk?" he asked with mocked offense.

I rolled my eyes and pulled the milk from the icebox, pouring us all a glass so we could enjoy our cookies, all concerns about James forgotten.

x-x

Life returned to normal.

Pre-Alice normal.

I missed her terribly. Sure, it was great to have someone there like me – someone who knew what I was going through and understood it – but I actually really missed Alice… just having her there.

My friend.

My sister.

It helped knowing that she was back with Jasper and I held out hope that her reality still existed, untouched and unchanged by me.

I really wanted her to be happy.

Monday night, I was quieter than usual and Carlisle, perceptive as ever, seemed to sense my distress.

"Is something bothering you, Bella?" he asked as we replaced the items he'd taken to New York.

"Alice had to leave," I explained, my eyes filling with unbidden tears. I glanced up to see Carlisle's shocked expression.

"Is she…?" I realized he thought that Alice had been changed already.

"No," I shook my head. "Not that… not yet."

"Do you know when?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Not exactly. A couple of years, I think."

Carlisle nodded. "And she's accepted this?" he asked disbelievingly.

I laughed. "Believe it or not, she welcomes it," I told him. "You just have to trust me. It's for the best." I looked away, thinking of how I'd nearly taken her future from her. "She just had to go back home," I continued. "I miss her."

"Well, then," Carlisle said, trying to encourage me, "it's a shame she had to leave, but I'm sure you'll see her again soon.

I nodded, but didn't say what I was thinking. Everyone said the same thing. They were sorry that Alice was gone, but knew I'd see her again. They didn't understand my grief.

Because I knew I most likely wouldn't see her again.

I thought fleetingly about going to visit her someday, taking a trip to Biloxi in search of Mary Alice Brandon. But I knew Alice – my Alice – wouldn't want me to. She wouldn't want to risk what my presence could do to her.

Who knew? Given my luck, I could get her so upset they'd transfer her to maximum security – or she could escape and run away or something and James would never find her.

It could happen, and with my track record it probably would.

So instead, I smiled at the encouraging comments and grieved in private.

"There's more, isn't there?" Carlisle stated insightfully.

I sighed, nodding. "I won't see her again… before." At his brisk nod, I saw he understood. "I probably won't see her ever again."

Carlisle tilted his head with a pitying smile. "I'm sorry," he said, compassion warm in his golden eyes.

I just nodded as the tears finally fell. "I really miss her," I choked out on a sob.

Carlisle moved toward me and wrapped his cold, hard arms around me, patting my back gently.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

I said nothing. I just clung to him and cried into his marble chest.

x-x

"Keep playing," Edward whispered.

My fingers faltered on the piano keys as he kissed me softly behind my ear, his tongue darting out briefly. His fingers trailed lightly around my knee, then up my thigh before returning down again to complete the circuit.

The circuit that was shooting jolts of electricity through my entire body.

"How am I supposed to play when you're doing that?" I asked, matching his tone as I tried to pound out Chopsticks on the piano in Edward's sunroom. His parents had invited me to an early dinner Wednesday afternoon before work. Once again, as we waited for dessert, we had adjourned to the glass-walled room to sit at the piano.

Edward had played Clair de Lune for me again, and I had to admit he was getting a lot better at it. He had been practicing, evidently, and even with the missed notes I could now see a glimpse of the talent and skill I'd seen before.

He decided to teach a song to me. It was kind of weird that I'd never learned Chopsticks. I mean, everybody knew how to play Chopsticks. I quickly realized, however, that Chopsticks wasn't really what was on Edward's mind. It was just an excuse for a little alone time.

Well, sort of alone time.

His parents were in other parts of the house, but Edward assured me his mother wouldn't pop in unannounced.

As long as the music kept playing.

I could hear her moving around in the kitchen, clanking pots and pans and plates. But at any pause in the piano playing the noise in the kitchen would halt, and I knew she was listening… ready to intervene if she feared we were doing anything inappropriate.

So I'd carefully, methodically, pound out Chopsticks until I could hear the clattering in the kitchen start up again as Mrs. Masen was satisfied our actions were innocent.

Even though they were anything but.

Edward was teasing me, inciting flames along my skin as my shaking fingers tried to force something out of the piano loosely resembling music. I was pretty sure his parents thought my piano playing was a lost cause. I couldn't have cared less, though, as Edward swept his hand up my back and under my hair, stroking my scalp softly as he tilted my head to the side and nibbled on my neck.

"Edward," I breathed, my fingers trembled on the keys, itching… yearning to touch him.

This new, more sexually aggressive Edward I welcomed with open arms, but he was still a bit of a mystery to me. For the past couple of weeks the side of me that worried and wondered about Edward's change of heart warred with the side that just wanted to shut up and enjoy it.

Until he'd come over the day before… when my ever-nagging guilt at testing Edward's morals finally made its way to the forefront. And I finally got the answer that helped assuage that guilt – hopefully forever.

It was a warm afternoon, and Edward and I sat quietly on the wooden bench in Maggie's backyard garden. He had come by right after school, since track season was over, and had waited patiently for me to wake up, chatting with Maggie in the kitchen.

Flowers were budding, some in full bloom, and lilacs and honeysuckle perfumed the air. The bench was hidden from the kitchen window by a wooden lattice covered with vines, and it only took a moment for us to find each other. I turned to Edward, my breathing already short at his proximity, my thigh brushing against his. I met his intense green gaze with what I'm sure was a longing look.

Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of times when Edward and I just sat and talked. Plenty of times. But in these rare instances when we were alone and away from prying eyes, there was only thing on our minds.

He raised his hand to stroke his fingers gently over my cheek before resting his palm against my face. I leaned into his hand and my eyes fluttered closed as he brought his lips to mine, brushing them gently, his warm breath wafting over my face…. Intoxicating me… bewitching me.

"Bella," he murmured into my mouth, before deepening the kiss.

The intensity was overwhelming. Every time Edward kissed me I thought I couldn't fly any higher… feel any deeper. But then each time was even more amazing… hotter… stronger… all-consuming.

His fingers gripped my hair as his tongue plunged into my mouth, his other hand wrapping around my waist to pull me closer… always closer… never close enough. My hands slid under his jacket to clutch at him, roaming over the firm peaks and valleys of his back, feeling them ripple beneath my fingers as he pulled me onto his lap. My head fell back as he nipped along my throat, gently so as not to mark me again. I felt his nose nuzzle the top button of my blouse, then cool air blew across the tops of my breasts as I realized he had popped that button open.

I looked down to see him watching me with hooded eyes, waiting to see if I was okay with what was happening.

My eyes drifted shut again and I exhaled a shaky breath.

Oh… so much more than okay.

I felt Edward grip my hips as his heavy breaths raised goosebumps over my exposed flesh. I tensed, waiting.

Wanting.

Then, finally, I felt his warm mouth on the swell of my right breast. He kissed it reverently, raising his hand to caress my other breast gently. I gasped at the sensation – heat flowing from his mouth to shoot through my entire body. My hand flew to his hair, tangling in it to hold him there. God help him if he ever tried to leave.

I moaned, arching into his touch and reveling at the feel of his tongue lapping at my aching flesh, dipping under the edge of my blouse and circling slowly toward my already pebbled nipple. His hand lowered over my other nipple for a moment and even through my clothes, I could feel the heat radiating from his palm before it descended to touch me. He brushed over my nipple lightly at first, a shaky groan escaping his lips, then he gripped it more firmly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently.

Mysteriously, another button opened and I gasped as my blouse gaped, revealing the thin chemise I wore beneath it. Edward's eyes darkened as he gazed at my undergarments, licking his lips as his eyes flashed to mine warily. In my time, the chemise would be considered very modest - God knows I'd seen girls running around in much less – but the way Edward was looking at me was so erotic I almost felt naked.

"Bella, we should stop," he murmured, his actions belying his words as he bent to suck my nipple through my chemise, my back arching once again at the sensation.

"Yeah. I know," I agreed, pressing the back of his head lest he even think about stopping. His hot mouth on my breast was the sweetest of tortures.

I wanted more.

I squirmed on his lap, pressing my thighs together as my body sought relief… release. I could feel his erection hard against my hip, and when I moved, he unconsciously thrust against me.

"God… Edward…"

He groaned, biting down softly on my nipple and flicking the taut bud with his tongue as we writhed against each other… seeking something… something…

Something that wasn't going to happen in Maggie's backyard.

Edward seemed to make the realization at the same time as me because he released my breast, his mouth still hovering over it. His pants chilled the damp fabric of my chemise, making me moan at the sensation. He chuckled lightly, then sat up, kissing me gently between my breasts before re-buttoning my blouse. He wrapped his arms around me and we sat like that for a moment in silence, the only sounds the chirping of birds and our slowing breaths. Finally, I moved to sit next to him and he took my hand, linking our fingers and lifting it to his mouth for a chaste kiss.

"I'm sorry-" he began, but I interrupted him.

"What have I said about apologizing?" I asked. "We haven't done anything wrong, Edward. And neither one of us has anything to be sorry for."

He nodded. "Sorry…" At my exasperated look he added defensively, "You're right… you're right… and really, I'm not sorry for that." He leaned in for a quick kiss. "I am kind of sorry we had to stop, though," he added with a wolfish grin.

Lord. I'd created a monster.

We sat enjoying the quiet and talking about nothing in particular, but finally, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Edward, can I ask you something?"

He kissed my hand again. "Anything," he said with a soft smile.

"Well," I blushed, suddenly nervous. I turned to look out over the garden. "It's just that… you seem different… you know… about us." I flashed him a glance before looking away again. "Ummm… since you came to the suffrage rally… you really seem… less… restrained?

"Not that I'm complaining," I added hurriedly, and I saw him smirk out of the corner of my eye. "I just wondered… why the change of heart?"

He pulled my hand to his lap, lacing his fingers around it. "I told you," he said, his eyes on our joined hands, "I just did some thinking and realized a few things."

His ears pinkened in that adorable way, and I knew there was more. "What kinds of things?" I prodded, stroking his wrist with my captured thumb.

Edward took a deep breath. "I… haven't had a lot of experience with girls," he admitted.

"Really?" At my shocked exclamation, he looked at me in surprise. "It's just that… you're really good at it," I clarified, feeling my own skin redden.

Edward smiled and shrugged. "Well, guys talk," he explained. "I've heard a lot of stories over the years… about what… women like." His voice lowered and his eyes returned to his lap. "I've just never wanted to do any of that with anyone before."

"Really?" I said again. "Not even Samantha?"

Edward laughed. "No… definitely not Samantha," he replied. "We were always more like siblings than anything else," he told me. "There's been no one… not until you." His eyes met mine finally, and I gasped at the swirling emotion I saw in their green depths.

"And then you… you seemed to want me to… kiss you… and touch you." His hand lifted to brush across my bottom lip. "I wanted to… so badly… but I found I really liked you too. You drove me absolutely crazy, but I liked you." I smiled at that and he returned the gesture.

"I'd been raised to respect women. I'd always believed that it was the man's job… his responsibility… to ensure that nothing inappropriate happened with a lady. But you challenged me on that. I didn't know what to make of it, to be honest," he explained, his hand returning to his lap.

Guilt twisted in my gut again. "I'm sorry…"

"No." He smirked at me. "You don't get to apologize either." At my wry grin, he continued. "I realized three things during that time when we were apart," he said. "First, as I told you after the suffrage meeting, that I don't want to go back… as much as our being together muddles my mind and confuses me sometimes, I want to move forward.

"Second," he continued, "I realized that you were right. That both of us are responsible for how we are together… what we do together… that I have to respect you enough to share that responsibility."

My mouth dropped open at his admission.

"Don't look so shocked," he joked. "I'm an open-minded person. I can change my opinion on things."

I grinned and scooted closer so I could lean my head on his shoulder. I felt him press his lips to my hair.

"What was the third thing?" I asked quietly, breathing in his delicious scent.

He was silent, so I raised my head and turned to face him. He gazed at me intently, and my stomach erupted with butterflies.

"I realized," he said slowly, his eyes locked with mine and his voice gentle, but determined, "that I love you, Bella."

I couldn't really explain it, but in that moment, the two Edwards I knew merged into one - the one who loved me. Past, present, future… it didn't matter. Edward loved me. It wasn't just about teenage hormones and rampant lust anymore. He actually loved me. The thought sent a surge of warmth through me, and I felt tears prick my eyes.

I reached out with my free hand, wrapping it around his neck and pulling him toward me for a tender kiss. His palm lifted to cup my cheek again, his thumb stroking lovingly at my jaw as he kissed me back. Our electric connection still sizzled, but it seemed subtler somehow… as if it too realized that what we had was deeper than physical attraction… that it had grown stronger than desire. We pulled apart, smiling at each other, our foreheads touching.

"I love you, too," I whispered.

Edward's declaration eased my doubts and fears even more than Alice's reassurances. So the next day as we sat at the piano in the sunroom, I found myself able to enjoy our time together without constantly worrying that I was corrupting Edward or possibly ruining his future.

Although the same couldn't be said for Chopsticks.

After more sour notes – blamed more on the fact that Edward was trailing his fingers up and down my spine than on my lack of talent – I turned to him in mock irritation.

"That's it," I announced. "I'm going to teach you a song."

"Really?" Edward returned doubtfully. "You can play the piano?"

"Well… no… not really," I admitted, thinking for a moment, "but I do know one song."

"Why don't you just keep playing Chopsticks," he suggested, leaning over to nibble on my earlobe.

Oh, yeah. Chopsticks was good.

So good.

But I couldn't touch him when I was playing. I had a plan. I blinked, trying to remember what it was.

That's right. Heart and Soul.

I nudged Edward away playfully. "Pay attention," I ordered. "I'm going to teach you the lower part."

So for the next few minutes I taught Edward the chords to the song. I had no idea if it had been written yet or not, but Edward hadn't heard it before. He caught on quickly, though, and soon had the rhythm down.

Dum dee ah dah… Dum dee ah dah…

I nodded in approval and started on the higher part… the part I could play with one hand…

…Leaving my other one deliciously free.

I played through the song once, then as I repeated the melody, I slid my left hand over to Edward's knee, squeezing lightly.

His fingers faltered.

"Keep playing," I encouraged, waiting for him to continue. I saw him take a deep breath and begin again.

Dum de ah dah…

As I started my part, my hand trailed lightly up Edward's thigh. I knew the song well enough to play it without looking, so I watched him intently. His jaw clenched as he focused on the piano, and my lips parted as I stroked back down toward his knee, then back up again. He clenched his eyes tightly shut and had to begin again.

"What's the matter, Edward?" I teased quietly.

I think he actually growled.

I giggled as he started over.

Dum de ah dah...

I never would have thought of Heart and Soul as a sexy song… but I was pretty sure I'd never hear it again without getting aroused.

I started playing again as my hand continued its circuit up and down Edward's thigh, my fingers stroking first the inside, then the outside, grazing the curve of his delicious ass. I took a deep breath, squirming a little on the piano bench as I felt moisture gather between my legs and the telltale tingling in my core. I couldn't resist. We repeated the song again and my fingers slid up the inside of Edward's thigh… higher… higher still…

…until I ran the backs of my knuckles over his very prominent erection.

Discordant notes filled the room as Edward's left hand pounded flat on the piano keys and his right grabbed my wrist. I worried for a moment that I'd gone too far, until I saw the lust swimming in his eyes an instant before he pulled me into a hot, demanding kiss.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he muttered gruffly when he finally pulled back. His face was taut… raw and primal. I half-expected him to grab me by the hair and drag me to his bedroom.

I might have whimpered a little at the thought.

Instead, he lifted my wrist to his lips, licking the inside of it lightly before sucking it hard… hard enough to mark me. And this time he was doing it on purpose.

My eyes rolled back in my head. Somewhere in the distance I heard voices, and I gradually became aware of the fact that Edward had released my hand and was playing Heart and Soul again. I blinked dazed eyes and tried to focus.

"Play, Bella," Edward said tightly, flashing a glance toward the doorway. I realized the click of footsteps was drawing nearer, so I quickly joined in on the song.

"Relax," he whispered.

Easy for him to say. I took a deep breath and tried not to look guilty for molesting Mrs. Masen's baby boy in the sunroom.

Edward's mother walked into the room a moment later, a worried look on her face, and we both stopped playing.

Crap. Did she know? She must have some crazy mother sixth sense or something.

"Edward," she whispered anxiously as she approached the piano. "There are two men here to see you. They say they're police detectives."

"Police?" Edward repeated. "What do they want?"

"I don't know," she replied. "They wouldn't say. You haven't been driving too fast again, have you?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Of course not, Mom. I don't have the slightest idea why the police would want to talk to me."

"Maybe you should get your dad," I suggested. "He is a lawyer. I don't think you should talk to the police by yourself." I didn't know much about the law other than what I saw on TV, but I knew in this time before Miranda warnings and the ACLU Edward needed to be careful, regardless of what the police wanted.

"He's busy working. I don't want to disturb him." Edward stood and rounded the piano. "Besides, I don't have anything to hide," he said, walking toward the living room.

Edward's mother and I exchanged concerned glances before trailing behind him. I heard Edward introduce himself as we walked down the hall. Rounding the corner into the living room, I saw him shaking hands with two suited men.

"I'm Detective McCaffey," the taller one with reddish hair said. He indicated his shorter, dark-haired partner with a jerk of his head. "This is Detective Ramsey."

"Please Detectives, won't you sit down?" The ever-present hostess in Mrs. Masen kicked in, pushing aside her worry for the moment. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Or maybe some lemonade?"

"No, thank you, ma'am," Detective McCaffey replied, as they both sat in the tufted chairs across from the sofa. Edward perched on one end of the sofa, trying to look relaxed, but I could tell he was nervous. Mrs. Masen sat next to him, and I sat quietly on a wooden chair near the doorway, my own nerves beginning to twist in my stomach.

"We just have a few questions for you, Edward," he continued, flipping open a small notebook and pulling the top off a fountain pen. I noticed Detective Ramsey didn't have a notebook. He just held a brown envelope in his hands and watched Edward carefully.

Detective McCaffey scanned his notes briefly. "Are you familiar with a James Hayden?"

James?

James?

What was James' last name? It could be another James, right? I mean, James is a pretty common name. My mind raced as I tried to recall what I'd read in the article that Tom had shown me. Was his last name Hayden?

"Hayden? No," Edward replied, confusion evident on his face. "I don't know anyone by that name."

It couldn't be the same James. Why would the police want to talk to Edward about him?

The detective pulled a small black and white photograph out of his notebook, handing it to Edward. "Are you sure?"

I stretched my neck, but couldn't see the photo. Edward examined it closely, then shrugged and handed it back.

"I've never seen him before."

McCaffey tucked the photo back in his notebook. "That's interesting, because two of Mr. Hayden's friends, a…" He consulted his notes again. "…William Hunter and George Greeley, claim you evicted them from a ball at the Palmer House on Saturday night." Both detectives directed steely gazes at Edward as McCaffey added, "Furthermore, they say you threatened Mr. Hayden."

A memory flashed in my mind. Edward following James as his friends carried him away from the alley.

"I'll kill him!"

My heart sank as I watched Edward put the pieces together. His eyes flashed to mine briefly.

"I didn't know his name," he said quietly. "I didn't recognize him from his photograph because our interaction was so limited."

McCaffey leaned forward a little. "So you admit you threatened him."

I stood quickly. "Edward!" I couldn't let him admit to anything. Who knew what could happen?

All eyes turned to me.

"I… uh… I really think you should get your father," I said urgently.

He frowned at me and turned back to the police. "I spoke in the heat of the moment," he said. "It was not a serious threat."

I didn't listen to any more. Instead, I slipped from the room and ran to Mr. Masen's office. I heard him talking through the door, but knocked frantically anyway before throwing the door open. He was on the phone.

"Hold on a moment, please," he said calmly, covering the mouthpiece. "Bella, is something wrong?"

"You need to come with me, now," I said urgently. "The police are here and they're questioning Edward."

"I'll have to phone you later," he said into the phone as he stood quickly. He walked to the door in quick strides, leaving me to rush after him.

"What are they asking him about?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"A missing man," I replied quickly. "The man who… attacked me after the ball has disappeared. I think they believe Edward was involved."

Mr. Masen's face hardened as he quickened his pace, rounding the corner into the living room. The worried father was gone. The attorney had arrived.

"What is this all about?" he asked in an authoritative voice, interrupting whatever Edward was saying. Edward looked up in surprise, then scowled at me. I shrugged. He could be mad at me. I couldn't let him implicate himself.

"Mr. Masen, I presume?" McCaffey stood, extending his hand. Edward's father shook it firmly. "I'm Detective McCaffey. This is my partner, Detective Ramsey. We were just talking with Edward about what happened Saturday night outside the Palmer House."

"I see," Edward's father said noncommittally, walking over to stand at Edward's shoulder.

"Yes." McCaffey sat back down. "He was just telling us that Mr. Hayden had assaulted his girlfriend." His eyes drifted to me. "That would be you, I assume, Miss…" He checked his notebook again. "…Smith?"

I gulped. "It's Swan, actually. Bella Swan."

"Oh?" McCaffey looked surprised, but I was pretty sure he was faking it. Ramsey just studied me with his beady eyes.

"You told Mr. Hayden your name was Jane Smith," he pointed out.

I shrugged, holding my chin up. "I lied."

"Why?"

"I didn't like him."

"I see." Detective McCaffey scribbled something in his notebook. "Do you often lead men on, then lie to them, Miss Swan?" he asked aggressively.

"What?" Edward exploded, shooting to his feet. "Bella did no such thing!"

"Edward, calm down," I said quietly, even though I was seething inside. I knew McCaffey was just trying to incite us in an attempt to get someone to admit something.

Mr. Masen rested his hand on Edward's shoulder. He stiffened, then sat down slowly, his eyes on me. I offered him what I hoped was a comforting nod.

"You danced with him," McCaffey pressed.

Edward's eyes flashed.

"I was dancing with a friend, but everyone had to switch partners," I explained. "I only danced with him… to be polite," I added through gritted teeth.

McCaffey was relentless. "His friends said you flirted with him all evening… that you accepted a flower from him."

I heard Edward growl, but didn't look his way.

"I was not flirting with him," I insisted, losing my battle to stay calm. "He was watching me and every now and then he'd catch my eye. I made it very clear that I was not interested in him, but he wouldn't take the hint," I felt my skin flushing as my anger got the better of me. "He and his friends were drunk and obnoxious!"

Mrs. Masen spoke for the first time. "That's true," she nodded emphatically. "Several of the ladies can testify to that. It's why I asked Edward to have them removed from the premises."

McCaffey didn't give up easily. He seemed to disregard Mrs. Masen's comment and continued to focus on me. "And how did you end up in alone in an alley with Mr. Hayden?"

I took a deep breath. "I left the ball to get away from him. I didn't like him watching me. I was waiting for my friend outside, but he followed me."

"Your friend?"

Crap. Alice. How could I explain Alice?

"My cousin, Alice." My heart rate quickened. I hoped he wouldn't ask me to speak to her. I didn't know what I'd do if he did.

"And where is this Alice now?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. "There was a family emergency," I told him, fighting against the trembling in my voice. "She had to go back to Iowa to be with her father."

He wrote furiously in his notebook. I looked toward Mr. Masen, but he just nodded at me slightly.

I thought lawyers were supposed to jump in with "Objection!" and "My client doesn't have to answer that!"

They really needed Law and Order in 1918.

"Then what happened?" McCaffey continued, dropping the subject of Alice for the moment.

I bit my lip. "He grabbed me. He tried to…" I glanced at Edward, who wore a pained expression, his eyes on the carpet. "He forced his attentions on me. I fought back and got away."

"You fought off a grown man?"

I bit back a sarcastic retort. "He was drunk. And I can defend myself if need be."

"And you felt no need to call the police to report this incident?" McCaffey's eyes widened in mock surprise and Ramsey twisted in his seat, obviously interested in my answer.

"It was over," I said bluntly. "I wasn't hurt. I just wanted to forget about it."

"I see," McCaffey mumbled as he jotted down some more notes. He turned back toward Edward. "And that's when you arrived?"

Edward nodded stiffly. "I only saw Mr. Hayden being taken away by his friends. They left and we went back inside."

"Tom Jacobsen and Samantha Swenson were there," I offered, "and Dr. Carlisle Cullen. They'll confirm everything we said."

McCaffey just nodded and flipped to another page in his notebook. I eyed Ramsey suspiciously. Why didn't he say anything?

"See, that's where we have a little problem," McCaffey said, finally snapping his notebook shut. "Everything you've said is corroborated by Mr. Hayden's friends – except for the difference in perspective about Miss Swan's interaction with him, of course – but that's neither here nor there."

He pursed his lips. "His friends brought Mr. Hayden home and left him in the room where he was staying for the weekend. But in the morning, he was gone… just vanished." He waved his hands in the air like a magician.

"We've been able to determine that sometime between midnight and seven o'clock Sunday morning he went outside. There was no sign of forced entry in the house, so we believe someone must have been waiting for him outside the house.

"Where were you during that time, Edward?"

Edward looked at him steadily, the only sign of fear a slight trembling of his hands. "I drove Bella and her cousin home, then I came here and went to bed," he said.

"Do you have anyone that can attest to that?" McCaffey pressed.

"Yes," I replied. "He drove us home."

"And what time was this?"

My heart sank. I was useless as an alibi. "Around midnight."

He turned to Edward's parents. "Were you here when your son got home?"

Mrs. Masen shot a panicked look at her husband. He cleared his throat.

"We got home around one-thirty. Edward's car was parked out front," he stated frostily.

"Mmm hmmm…" McCaffey re-opened his notebook and wrote something down. "So you cannot account for your son's whereabouts between midnight and one-thirty?" Met with silence, he continued. "As a matter of fact, you can't guarantee that your son did not leave the house after you went to bed, can you?"

Edward stood up again, running his hands through his hair in aggravation. "This is preposterous! What are you accusing me of? I didn't even know this man! How would I know where he was staying?"

McCaffey gazed at him steadily. "I don't know, Edward. Determined men can find things out. Ask a few questions… grease a few palms…"

Mr. Masen finally intervened. "Detectives, I think this has gone on long enough…"

McCaffey held up a hand. "Just one more thing," he said, nodding at Ramsey. The detective opened the envelope he'd been holding, dumping the contents on the coffee table before him.

I gasped.

Edward paled and sank back down to the sofa.

In front of him lay a blood-stained handkerchief, clearly bearing the monogram EAM.

"How?" his eyes darted about aimlessly for a moment before finally coming to rest on me.

"This was found on the ground around the side of the house where James Hayden was staying," Ramsey said gruffly. "There were also several other smears of blood, as well as a shoe we've confirmed was Mr. Hayden's."

"I can explain that-" I began, but Mr. Masen interrupted me quickly.

"Don't say another word," he ordered, his gaze flicking from me to Edward, "either one of you.

"Detectives, I'm afraid my son will answer no more questions at this time. So unless you are here to arrest him, I'll have to ask you to leave," he said acidly and I realized why he was such a successful attorney. When he set his mind to it, he was very intimidating.

Detective Ramsey picked up the handkerchief and placed it back in the envelope as the two of them stood.

"That's fine," McCaffey said agreeably. "We're done… for now. But this isn't over," he warned, his gaze on Edward. "If you had anything to do with Mr. Hayden's disappearance, it would be better for you to speak up now."

"That's enough!" Mr. Masen barked, striding to the front door and pulling it open. "Good day, gentlemen."

The detectives left without another word and Edward's father slammed the door behind them before returning to the living room to collapse into a chair. We all sat in stunned silence for a moment until Edward broke it.

"I don't understand… how did he get my handkerchief?"

I sighed, moving to the chair across from Edward.

"It fell out of my glove at the ball," I explained. "James picked it up and wouldn't give it back unless I danced with him again, so I left it. He must have used it on his bloody nose." I turned to Mr. Masen. "Can't I just tell them that? Won't that clear this all up?"

Mr. Masen released a heavy breath. "I don't know yet, Bella. They could just think you're trying to protect Edward." He scrubbed his hands over his face, then rather absently through his hair.

"I need some time to determine how to proceed," he announced finally. "In the meantime, I don't want any of you talking to the police without me."

I nodded and stood slowly. "I should probably go," I said quietly, moving toward the front door.

Edward jumped up. "I'll drive you," he offered distractedly, following me outside to the porch before he pulled the door closed.

"Edward," I said, turning to face him and fighting back tears. "I'm so sorry. I feel like this is all my fault."

Edward's gaze softened and he pulled me gently into his arms.

"Don't be ridiculous," he murmured. "None of this is your fault."

Oh, but he was wrong. If I hadn't been at the ball, none of it would have happened. If I hadn't set out to find Edward in the first place, none of it would have happened.

It was all my fault. Every last crazy bit of it.

I had to fix it.

I pushed away from him. "You should go back in and talk to your parents," I said, resolve making its way through my body. "I need to get to the hospital."

"But I should drive you," Edward repeated.

"No," I said firmly. "I have plenty of time. I'll take the 'L'. You should really figure things out with your dad."

"Are you sure?" His concerned gaze touched me deeply as he lifted a finger to stroke my cheek.

"I'll be fine," I insisted. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Edward nodded, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead. "See you tomorrow. I… love you," he said timidly, the words still new.

I smiled, running my fingers through his soft hair once. "I love you too, Edward."

I turned and walked away, sure of what I had to do. There was only one thing, really. One way.

My pace quickened as I neared the streetcar and I hopped on, willing it to go faster. I jumped off at the "L" station, racing to the platform just in time to catch the train. I sat watching the scenery unseeingly, my foot tapping impatiently as my heart raced.

Sure, all the so-called evidence the police had could be explained away. But I was not so naïve to think that it wasn't enough to condemn Edward. A threat… a bloody handkerchief… even without a body, it could be enough. It was pretty obvious the detectives believed they were on the right track and there was no way to prove Edward's innocence.

Innocent until proven guilty… a lovely thought, but not always the reality.

Of course, if James were to turn up, that would be helpful. I knew he wasn't dead… well not completely, anyway. There was a pretty good chance that at that moment he was sucking someone dry with a gleeful smile.

The asshole.

But I was also pretty sure the vampire defense wouldn't hold up in a court of law.

When the train finally ground to a halt, I was waiting at the doors to hurry off, my speed picking up even more as I stepped down the stairs from the platform and headed toward the hospital. By the time I was a block away I was running, dodging between people on the sidewalk and hopping over obstacles. I could hardly breathe, but whether it was from the exertion, or from the panic I felt flowing through me, I wasn't sure. I flung the door open, racing across the waiting room and ignoring the worried voices calling after me. I ran through the ward and took the stairs two at a time as I flew toward Carlisle's office.

He heard me coming, because the door burst open as I approached and he swept me inside in a flash, closing the door quickly behind me.

"Bella? What is it? What on earth is the matter?" he asked frantically.

I looked into his concerned amber eyes and felt the tears finally well up and overflow my own. I gripped his arms urgently, my breaths escaping in harsh pants.

"Carlisle… please," I sobbed, "I need your help."

A/N: Hats off to those of you who knew the handkerchief would come back into play… and those who figured out early what was up with Alice. And now Bella's gone to Carlisle for help, so there are some things coming in the next chapter that some of you have been waiting a looonggg time for. *winks* I hope I don't disappoint.

Come share your thoughts at the BT thread on the Twilighted Forum (link on my profile) or follow me on Twitter (Tkegl) if you'd like to ask questions or chat about the story. Teaser will be up Monday at www(dot)fictionators(dot)com.

Oh, and there's still time to write for the Long Distance Lovin' Contest – the submission deadline's been extended to 7/15! All the info's on my profile. I'd love to read your hot phone-sexin, naughty-textin' one-shots, so get those stories in!