Twelve hours to go...

EPOV

At last it was time to escape these smotheringly monotonous four walls and set off. Alice, with her dramatic bent, had refused to tell us where we were going in advance, instead she'd posted us a sat-nav with directions programmed in, and a departure time written on the box. Of course, that meant that I would have no time in the church to set up the webcams I intended to use to transmit video – blurred enough that whilst Bella would be recognisable, the changes to her would not be, and sent via a freelance video editor who would blur out the images of the rest of us on the fly, so that Charlie wouldn't know who was with her – back to Forks, but Alice had, of course, seen my intentions, and had taken care of them for me, along with the other minor alteration to her plans which constituted my gift to Bella.

Carlisle drove, having deemed me too restless to trust behind the wheel, and I watched the miles tick by impatiently, as every inch of ground we covered brought me closer to my love. When the sun came up we were still driving and not a word had been said; Carlisle was pretending to concentrate on the road to save me the burden of conversation, Jasper was silenced by the atmosphere of tension in the car, and Emmett was reading and re-reading his lines, evidently nervous, because with his photographic memory he shouldn't need to do so.

By a roundabout equation, Emmett had been chosen to officiate the ceremony. A human vicar would constitute too much temptation to Bella, and was therefore out of the question, Esme, Rosalie and Alice were all to be bridesmaids, and Carlisle was giving Bella away. Which left Jasper and Emmett, one to be my best man, and the other to lead the ceremony.

As soon as I had worked that out, I was horribly envious of brides everywhere who were able to choose multiple bridesmaids, where grooms were able to appoint only a single best man. How could I choose between my brothers?

In the end, I had jumped at Jasper's suggestion that we save me the decision, by flipping a coin. Of course Jasper won, and Emmett was briefly cross that he hadn't realised that the whole thing was a fix; as if Alice would let Jasper lose. But by then he had got excited enough about his own role that he didn't really protest.

It wasn't until now, seeing him pouring over his notes, that I realised how seriously he was taking this, and I was touched. He could so easily have trivialised it; the wedding was non-denominational, avoiding the religious minefield our circumstances presented, so all he had needed to do was buy a permit from the state official, hear our vows, and watch us sign the register. No one would have minded if he had done just that – well, maybe except for Alice, who was a sucker for rituals and formalities – but instead, I realised, looking at his hastily scrawled notes, he had done nothing of the sort. He had taken a word here, a phrase there, from what looked like as many different marriage ceremonies as he could find, hand-picking only the best bits for us. I could hear his thoughts as he painstakingly considered final alterations to his script, and had to hide a chuckle as he considered Bella's probable response to the phrase 'love, honour and obey,' and hastily discarded the notion.

In this, as in so many other little gestures over the past three months, I saw the depth of love my family felt for me, and shuddered away from the thought that I had once considered leaving them. Indeed, that I had once even left. Home was not a place, home was these people and their love.

Eight hours to go...

BPOV

"No Alice."

"Yes Bella!"

"No! I absolutely refuse to believe it is going to take eight hours to put some curlers in my hair. Leave me alone!"

I was busy practising. Now that the day was upon me, my stage fright was almost crippling, and my control was slipping through my fingers like water. The last thing I needed now was Alice fussing around me, distracting me even more.

"It isn't just putting curlers in your hair, Bella, this is a work of architecture! I've been planning it for weeks."

"Then you need to get a life, Alice. It's just hair, for goodness' sake!" I wasn't really being fair. Yesterday I had been just as excited about this as she had been, even more so, but ever since the clock had ticked past midnight, and it was, at last, The Day, I'd been horribly nervous. My discovery that my nerves were shredding my control hadn't helped, and my patience was now practically non-existent. I had more important things to worry about than hair. What if, after the months of separation, all the build-up, what if I couldn't do it?

Oh, I knew Edward wouldn't complain, he'd do whatever was necessary to show me that as long as he had me, he was happy enough. But he'd be disappointed, and today was supposed to be a day without disappointment. I'd had such plans...

Then Tanya stormed in to my rescue.

"Bellochka! Milenky, golubchick, solnyshko!" I had teased Tanya too much for her French, so she had recently begun resorting to Russian. It had the desired effect; I had never heard enough Russian to know whether or not her accent was the slightest bit believable. Besides which, Russian seemed to lend itself to the hordes of diminutives and endearments she deemed it necessary to shower me with.

"Why is it you fret, my Bella? And on this, the happiest of days!" She gathered me tenderly into her arms, brushing aside Alice who was still trying to work with my hair. Under the guise of a comforting hug, she whispered into my ear.

"Worry not about your hair, dorogoi, I have seen your dress, and you may trust me when I say he will not see a thing above your neck!" She pulled back to grin wickedly at me, wiggling her eyebrows in so comic a way I had no choice but to laugh. With that, Esme, Rosalie, Irina and Kate swept in and Alice's preparations continued unhindered and with a distinct party atmosphere in the air, and I allowed myself to be soothed. For now.

Six hours to go...

EPOV

"Edward, she's right next door. You can't phone somebody who is right next door," Jasper said, in his most infuriatingly reasonable tone.

"You're right, that is utterly ridiculous." I headed for the door which separated us, only to find Jasper, Emmett and Carlisle all suddenly blocking my way.

"You know that isn't what Jasper meant," Carlisle said in a tone even more reasonable, and thus more irritating, than Jasper's.

"It's been three months, Carlisle, and she's finally just a door away from me, do you really expect me to wait any longer?"

"Yes, Edward. Remember why she's been away for so long. The purpose of this whole separation was so that she could create the perfect wedding for you, she wants to surprise you. Don't ruin this for her."

I sighed. If he had said anything else... but for Bella's sake I would endure the separation a little longer. I even resisted the temptation of peeking into any of the girls' minds, focusing on Emmett, who was still trying to get the ceremony 'just right'.

Then my phone buzzed in my hand, just as I heard squeals of protest erupt from the girls' room.

Morning, fiancée.

Two short words, but they brought a song to my heart.

Not for much longer, dear one.

I replied as fast as I dared to on the fragile phone and waited impatiently for a reply.

You'd better appreciate all the work I've put into this, Edward Cullen. Alice has been doing my hair for hours now. Argh!

I fought to suppress a laugh, but succeeded only in stifling it, so that it sounded like a choked snort, showing Jasper and Emmett the text when they looked at me curiously.

Tell me about it, Carlisle actually made me comb my hair. Shock horror!

He actually had made me, not that it had done much good. Apparently vampire hair was just as stubborn as the rest of us, and I adamantly refused the products which I imagined Alice was using to make Bella's hair submit.

Lucky you. Alice has six combs! Speaking of six.. who knew six hours could seem so long?

I wasn't the only impatient one then.

Who knew they could seem longer than three months? I wish I could see you now.

The odd thing was that they did seem longer. The last few months seemed to have flown by, they seemed like nothing compared to the huge gulf of time between now and three o'clock. Bella's reply seemed to take forever to come, and I heard muffled sounds of arguing from the next room.

What the hell, it's only bad luck if you see me in my dress and I'm not dressed yet ; ) meet you outside? But only if you promise not to laugh at my hair. It's a work in progress.

I was out of the door almost before I'd even finished reading the text, dropping the phone carelessly in my haste. Behind the church was a small graveyard, quiet and secluded with high walls and tall leafy trees shading the grass. Bella stood in the middle of it, dressed in a white shift, hair in masses of curlers which seemed to dwarf her. Objectively, I supposed, the sight was amusing, but nothing was farther from my mind than humour.

Bella...

I didn't speak, and nor did she. I ran to her, and she met me halfway, burying her face in my chest, as I buried mine in her tortured hair; thankfully Alice hadn't sprayed it with anything yet, so it still smelled like Bella.

After a few minutes I felt the tension ease from Bella's body, and she sighed.

"Ah," she breathed, "there it is. Tanya was right. How could I help but feel safe with you?" Her words were cryptic, out of context, but I heard what I needed to; the deep satisfaction in her voice. I felt the way her body melted like butter into mine.

"I'll always keep you safe, love,"

"I know."

She pulled me impossibly closer, forcing the granite hardness of our bodies to become soft and pliant, melding until there wasn't a hair's breadth between us.

"I don't have long," she said, mournfully, "Alice's timetable is very packed." I fought my rising panic. I couldn't lose her again so quickly after our reunion! But I knew that she had to go. It would be wrong of me to spoil all her plans for the sake of petty, instant gratification. Fighting to control hands which only wanted to hold her, I let her go, looked at her a moment, drinking in the sight of her, and then turned and went back inside.

Four hours to go...

Rosalie POV

"I'm going to be sick!" Bella wailed, pulling away from the unfortunate Alice, who had undertaken the not-inconsiderable task of doing Bella's make up. She struggled valiantly, but Bella's face was pulled into a rictus of terror, making it impossible. Bella had been calmer since we let her see Edward, but her tension had been creeping back up all the time Alice had been doing her hair, and it seemed that putting on her make up was the last straw.

"Bella! Don't be ridiculous, vampires don't get sick." The levity in Alice's voice was very forced, and she was watching the clock pointedly.

Though it surprised even me, I felt great sympathy for Bella. Was this how I would have felt, I wondered, walking up the aisle on the arm of a human lover? If I had been promised to a true man, not the animal my betrothed had been? By the time I married Emmett, I had no innocence left to lose, and I had seen too much terror in my life to be nervous about my wedding.

Watching Bella, feverish with excitement and fear, I envied all she had ahead of her. She would marry Edward in white, not the ivory I had worn each and every time I had wedded Emmett. The loss of her virginity would be a beautiful thing, tender and greatly anticipated. Not that I begrudged her any of this, but the sight of her made me ache for what I hadn't, and could never, have.

I pulled my hand away from the table as I felt it start to crumble under my touch; my fists were clenching in impotent, furious grief. I made an excuse to leave and fled, calling out to Emmett, and finally finding him sitting outside the church, back against a headstone.

I was glad that we weren't one of those couples who always had to talk about everything. With one look at my face, he knew exactly what I needed, and he held his arms out to me. Gratefully, I collapsed into them, burying my face in his chest, flooding my senses with him to block out everything else.

Carlisle told me once that, had I been human, I would undoubtedly have had post traumatic stress disorder. As it was, my vampirism exempted me from from the physical symptoms; sleep disturbance, headaches and the rest. What it couldn't save me from was the memories; human memories which should have faded, but which I had unwillingly relived over and over until every detail was branded into my perfect vampire brain.

Sometimes years would go by, and I believed I'd begun to forget, but of course, that was impossible. Some things you can't escape, and when the memories took me, there was nothing I could do but seek refuge in Emmett's arms, and allow them to run their course.

Feel his arms, I told myself, hard and cold and gentle, and nothing like theirs. Smell his scent, icy and sweet and not human in the slightest... this was the litany I summoned to sustain me, but even as I began it, I realised it was unnecessary. It wasn't those memories which haunted me now, but others. Not even proper memories, not really, just echoes of dreams.

My wedding, my house, my brown-haired, blue-eyed angel child. The life Royce stole from me that night.

"Shh, baby," Emmett was crooning in my ear, "it's just us here, you and me."

An impulse, handed down through the aeons, the most basic urge, more primal than survival, and no less strong in me despite its futility, called to me now. I carefully removed my bridesmaid's gown, stripped Emmett of his tux, and pulled him into me.

And it was the gentlest, purest, most achingly beautiful experience anyone had ever had.

Two hours to go...

Tanya POV

Alice had finally released me, saying she could finish without me, and with a few final words of wisdom to my white-clad protegee, I departed and went to seek out Edward.

Alice had told me about both parts of his gift for Bella, and I approved immensely. We had both been worried that he would completely misjudge things, buy Bella something priceless and tacky, but he had outdone himself. As I walked over to the boys' room, I stuck my head through the double doors and into the main body of the church, noting with satisfaction the cameras which were tastefully hidden by wreaths of flowers. I had never stopped mourning my mother, so I knew how important parents were, and I was glad that Edward had found a way to give Bella's back to her for this momentous occasion.

It was Edward's other present which prompted me to seek him out now, and as I walked into the room I took a moment to admire him, sleekly formal in his tuxedo, and glowing with anticipation.

"You have the music?" I asked, and he reverently handed me a leather bound book containing many pages of manuscript. Then he handed me an ipod.

"Play it like this," he begged me, "can you?"

"Edward," I sighed, "I may not have your flair for composition, but as a performer I am beyond reproach. I'll do your music justice." He nodded gratefully and I took the book and slipped the headphones into my ears. I pressed play and followed the music with my eyes on the page, making notes to myself. Andante to begin, moving up to mezzo, I thought, noting a slur here, a portamento there, hearing with approval the rubato at the end. Edward had created a masterpiece, and my fingers itched for a chance to practice the music in front of me.

"Head west about three miles and you'll pick up Alice's scent. If you follow it, you'll find a house with a servicable upright. The owners are out of town for the rest of the month, so you won't be disturbed," Edward said, in response to my thought, and I was too absorbed in the music still echoing in my head to pay much heed to the knowing smirk on his face as I left, or to question that Alice had chosen to 'borrow' a house, rather than buying one and furnishing it with an expensive grand piano, as would have been her usual style.

I followed Edward's instructions, humming the melody to myself and beating out the more staccato phrases on the steering wheel. The first piece he had given me only lasted about a minute and a half; the length of time it would take a bride to walk down the aisle of a church, and the second was no longer, but he had managed to squeeze in more depth of feeling than I would have thought possible, without cluttering the melody, which was as light and airy as sunshine. I had the windows rolled down, and as Edward had predicted, I caught Alice's smell, and turned down a side road to follow it. When I reached the house, I found one of the front windows conveniently open. I was surprised that the lingering scent of human was still quite strong, the residents obviously hadn't been gone long, but I knew if Alice said I would be undisturbed, that I had nothing to worry about, so I sneaked inside.

The house was small and sparsely furnished, careworn and showing serious signs of neglect. All except for the piano, which was old and slightly beaten up, but shone with a fresh coat of polish. I didn't have to be a musician to feel the love that someone obviously held for this instrument. It wasn't expensive-looking, but when I lifted the lid and pressed an experimental key, the tone was sweet and pure, and I hummed in pleasure.

Opening up the book Edward had given me, I set it on the stand and began to play, practising the first piece until I was sure that it was perfect, before moving onto the second, which I mastered just as swiftly. It was the third piece which I lingered over; this one was longer and more complex. This piece was intended for their first dance, so I couldn't be as free with the tempo as I had been with the others. Somehow I had to pour every drop of love I possessed into this melody – which in all fairness practically ached to absorb it – without resorting to the tempting rubato of the romantic period which felt so fitting to the mood of this piece.

I knew it was possible, having heard Edward's recording of himself playing it, but I just couldn't get it quite right. After half an hour, I was hissing with frustration, uneasily aware of the seconds as they slipped by; not long to go now, and I had to play this perfectly. Never before had I been defeated by a piece, no matter how complex or demanding. I had perfected Chopin's etudes in a single sitting, played Liszt without batting an eyelid, but I knew it was not my technical prowess which failed me here. How could I, with my fickle, flighty heart, do justice to a piece of such transcendent faithfulness, such enduring devotion as this? How could I be expected to play love of a magnitude that I had never felt?

I was so absorbed in my playing that I failed to hear the car pull up outside, or the key turn in the lock. It wasn't until the door opened, blowing a gust of unmistakably human-scented air, across my face that I realised I wasn't alone. I jumped up, surprised, silence falling like a shroud as the last notes I'd played faded into nothingness.

The human in the doorway stared at me, baffled. Like his house, there was an air of neglect about his person; hair unkempt and shirt crumpled as if he'd slept in it, though his piercing blue eyes were alert and intelligent. He was unshaven, his stubble lending manly strength to a face which could otherwise have seemed girlish in its fine-boned delicacy, but what really caught my attention was his hands, wrapped around the grocery bag he clutched to his chest. The palms were square, fingers long and tapering, with short blunt nails. They were elegant, strong, and unutterably sexy. I looked at the clock; I had an hour before I had to leave to get to the wedding. Plenty of time, humans rarely lasted long with me.

At my amorous growl, the bag he was holding fell to the floor. I stalked towards him, longing to feel those hands on my skin. Skipping my normal preamble, I ripped the clothes from my body and pressed myself against him, feeling his heat sink into me, igniting my nerves. After spending a moment frozen in shock, he responded, hands flying to the buttons on his shirt.

I snarled, wanting his hands for myself, and tore away his clothes as perfunctorily as I had my own. He seemed to take his sudden nakedness in his stride, and he reached out, twining his hands in my hair as he bent his head to kiss me. I opened my eyes long enough to make out the couch behind him, then pushed him down onto it and kissed him again. He had put out his hands to brace himself, but now he raised them to me again, stroking my breasts, the arch of my back, coming to rest on my hips as I raised myself up and, finding him more than ready to meet me, and lowered myself down, feeling his heat enter me, scratching that indefinable itch which never seemed to go away. I tried to be gentle, but his hands on my hips were demanding, pulling at me, until I was bucking with wild abandon, snarling my lust. He propped himself up on his elbows until he could reach my breast with his mouth. I expected a kiss, but he bit down hard on my nipple, tugging at it with a passable snarl of his own, sucking hungrily. I panted and felt myself begin to climax, felt him spill his seed inside me. I collapsed on top of him, enjoying the delicate fluttering as he softened inside me.

I looked at the clock again, and realised that more time had passed than I expected. I had to leave in ten minutes. I swore as I noticed the scraps of fabric on the floor, realising that I had destroyed my dress, and then noticing, as I hadn't before, its exact replica hanging from the coat rack, evidently a gift from Alice. I dressed quickly, running upstairs to fix my hair in the mirror. Five minutes left. Just long enough to practice that final piece one more time. As I flew downstairs, I noticed my lover still lying on the couch, shell-shocked, but looking happy. I sat down at the piano and played, and this time every nuance came to me as if the muse was sitting at my right hand side. Pure love spilled from my fingers as I struck note after gorgeous note. I finished with a sigh of satisfaction, and turned to find the man standing behind me, a look of awe on his face.

"Yes," he said, "I felt that too."

I looked towards the still-open door, suddenly loathe to leave him, but there was understanding in his eyes.

"Come back to me." He said, and it wasn't a request, or an order; he spoke with perfect faith, complete trust that I would return.

As I left, I knew that I would.

One hour to go...

Charlie POV

It was strange, having Renee in my house again after all these years. I supposed that I should have been at the station with the tech guys, trying to trace the signal, or at the very least, I should have let them come here. But just as there hadn't even been a discussion of Renee bringing Phil, I hadn't considered letting any outsiders share this moment.

I knew that when it was over, real life would intrude again. I would return to my work, and Renee to her husband. I had reconciled myself many years ago to the fact that no matter how in love we were, we weren't good for each other. Renee was happy with Phil, and I was happy to see her happy, but I still loved her, and I knew she still loved me.

This last year had been hard for her, harder than for me, I think. I had at least been able to feel useful, working at the station, she had had no distractions. Underneath the turmoil of my emotions, sitting here, waiting to see whatever it was that we would see, I felt a faint gladness that I had been the only one to get the packages, that I had been able to give this to her, this hope of contact with our daughter.

We sat, hand in hand on the sofa, leaning in eagerly to stare at the screen which, instead of its place-holder, now showed a timer, ticking down the minutes until we would see Bella. My back ached from sitting so unnaturally, and my fingertips were turning purple in Renee's grip. I was thirsty and I badly needed to pee, but I knew without even having to think of it that we would not move from this spot now, not until it was over.

One hour to go.