A/N: Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks for reading, and for reviewing.

Kind of long... I got a little carried away. Lizzie is almost four months old here.

EPOV

"Edward! Over here, man!"

I glanced to my left. Benjamin was waving at me. I took the opening and threw the football to him. He started to run, but he immediately was cut off. I shot around into the clear and called for the pass. Benjamin threw the ball up and over the two guys in front of him. Peter almost managed to snag the pass, but I caught it just out of his reach. He couldn't recover in time to block me, and I took off around him.

I may not have been one of the biggest guys, but I definitely was one of the fastest. No one came close to stopping me as I ran the length of the field in the park. When I reached the designated end zone, I turned back. My opponents were shaking their heads and tossing complaints. My teammates were grinning and yelling praise.

But it was my wife's smile that caught and held my attention.

Bella was sitting on a bench at the edge of the field. She had sat there often over the last few years, usually working in a sketchbook as she watched me play various sports with the guys I'd met in college or here at the park. The men gathered regularly to turn the large field into a makeshift baseball diamond, soccer field, or football field, and Bella had been with me for almost every pickup game I'd played here.

But now she had someone else sitting with her. Our baby girl, Elizabeth Renee, was in Bella's lap, snug in her little jacket and knit cap and wrapped up in her blanket. And when I looked over at them for the hundredth time, I was checking in again. This time, Bella gave me a tiny nod.

That was my cue. Time to go.

I tossed the football to Peter. "I gotta go, guys."

The men erupted into a riot of good-natured taunts. I was lucky; most of them knew and liked Bella, who they knew was in earshot, and almost as many were enthralled by Lizzie – though they never would admit it – so I didn't get ribbed as badly as I could have. The majority of the teasing consisted of the generic curfew and bedtime jokes.

Lee seemed the most put out by my departure. "Aw, c'mon, Edward, you can't leave now! We're ahead!" he protested.

"Edward can't stay out too late," Peter reminded him, his expression exaggeratedly serious. "He's an old married man, remember? And now he's got two women running his life."

"And I'm loving every minute of it," I replied with a grin. I broke into a jog and called over my shoulder, "Don't lose without me!"

The grumbling and heckling slowly faded behind me. By the time I reached my family, my friends were cheerfully tackling each other again.

My smile widened as I drew closer to the bench. "Hey, Tia," I greeted Bella's friend quickly. Then my attention shot back to my wife and daughter, who were seated beside her on the bench. Lizzie's wide eyes tracked my approach, and she smiled and gurgled when she heard me. I knelt in front of her and grabbed her tiny right hand as she threw it around carelessly. "Hey there, beautiful. You and your mom ready to go?"

Bella laughed as Lizzie bounced energetically in her arms. "Well, Mom's ready to go home," she commented. "And you need to settle down a little before bedtime."

"Ah. Overruled," I told Lizzie apologetically.

She squealed back at me, and I chuckled. I reached out to drag the diaper bag to me so Bella wouldn't have to worry about it, then I glanced back up at my girls before I stood. Lizzie's eyes were lowered to watch my hand. She was very interested in following movement now. And I was very interested in her eyes.

Lizzie's eyes had darkened slightly from the blue she'd had when she was born. I knew that we wouldn't know her true eye color for a few months yet, but I secretly was hoping that if they did change, they would turn chocolate brown like her mother's. I knew that Bella secretly was hoping they'd end up green like mine, but they already had Bella's shape. It only seemed right that they have Bella's color as well.

Besides, I really loved that color.

I lifted my eyes to meet Bella's and let myself get lost for a moment in their warm brown. Then I blinked and pushed to my feet, slinging the bag over my shoulder. Bella smiled softly, and I knew that she'd noticed my distraction. I smiled back as she turned to her friend.

"Thanks for hanging out with us, Tia," she said sincerely.

"Thanks for letting me. Although…" Tia grinned as she watched Bella shift Lizzie in her arms and stand. "Benjamin said he would have to limit the time I get to see you."

Bella looked surprised. I was, too. Tia's boyfriend Benjamin was one of our friends, so her remark was unexpected. "Why?" Bella asked.

Tia laughed. "Lizzie is giving me baby fever," she explained. She stood next to Bella and tickled Lizzie's belly. "She's entirely too cute. But Benjamin and I aren't baby-ready yet, so… I'm supposed to limit my intake."

Bella grinned. "Sounds flawed."

"It is." Tia straightened Lizzie's cap and stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

At that, Bella laughed. "Bye, Tia."

"Bye, Bella. Bye, Edward."

I waved absently as Bella fell into step beside me. Lizzie moved around in Bella's arm as we walked toward the parking lot. She was watching everything that moved in her field of vision. I grinned to myself as she took everything in. She was extremely observant.

Just like her mother.

Bella bumped my arm with her shoulder as we walked. She'd noticed my smile. "What?" she asked.

"I was just thinking about how much Lizzie is like you."

"Hm." Bella seemed prepared to go on, but she abruptly turned her head with a quiet "Ow."

"She catch your hair again?"

"Yes." Bella paused to ease Lizzie's fingers open. As she gently worked to free the lock of her thick mahogany hair from our baby's tiny hand, she commented, "I think she takes after you. She definitely shares your fascination with my hair."

"That's because your hair is worth the attention. Here." When Bella had her hair free, I reached out to brush it back over her shoulder and away from grasping little fingers. My hand lingered in its waves, and I slipped my fingers up and under to massage her scalp where the lock had been pulled.

Bella smiled up at me. "Thank you."

"Anytime." I tapped Lizzie's nose. "Thanks for giving me an excuse," I teased. "But don't pull quite so hard next time."

"Ah, a conspiracy." Bella grinned as we reached the car. "That explains things."

I put away the diaper bag and started the car to turn on the heat as Bella buckled Lizzie into her car seat. "I wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to come up with a conspiracy of your own."

Bella raised a brow as she slid into the passenger seat beside me and closed the door. "I didn't know I needed one," she replied.

Before I could put the car in reverse, Bella's hand was in my hair. I hummed quietly and closed my eyes as her fingers burrowed and twisted. My head tilted toward her touch. A shudder ran through me when she twined her fingers deeper. Then she gave my hair a playful tug and pulled her hand free.

She was grinning when I opened my eyes to look at her. I couldn't help grinning in response as I drove out of the parking lot. Our mutual interest in one another's hair hadn't lessened at all since the day we'd met. And neither of us ever needed a scheme to prove it.

"Okay," I surrendered. "No conspiracies for you."

"Oh, I didn't say we didn't have one."

I glanced suspiciously over at her. "And what is yours?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a conspiracy." She smiled back at Lizzie. "But it may have something to do with the way your daughter can't sleep sometimes without hearing her lullaby."

I chuckled. Lizzie did quiet down when she heard me playing her lullaby, but I was perfectly aware that sometimes she didn't need it; Bella just wanted to hear it. And I was more than happy to oblige.

Lizzie started to coo to herself in the back seat. Bella and I fell silent, listening to her. After a moment, Bella reached out for my hand. I immediately slipped my fingers through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze as her energy tingled its way up my arm. It seemed that nothing would dampen the electricity between us. Time, marriage, a baby…. Through it all, the current was still strong, still steady. Still very much a part of us.

And I loved it. I loved how we both just expected it. How it was natural for us. How it was just part of who we were together. I knew that no one else would understand it. I hadn't tried to explain it to anyone, and I knew that Bella hadn't, either. Not even to Alice, her best friend. But I knew that someday, she would tell our daughter. And I hoped that Lizzie would be able to find someone who would make her feel the way Bella made me feel.

In the future. Long, long in the future. Forty, maybe fifty years from now.

I smiled to myself as I toyed with Bella's fingers. I'd always understood her father's reluctance to let her come to New Hampshire with me – her fiancé – the summer of our eighteenth birthdays. I'd understood his concern when we'd gotten engaged so young, and his fear and pride when we'd married before our second year of college. And now, with a daughter of my own, I understood Charlie better than ever.

But he'd always trusted Bella, and by extension, me. And everything had worked out perfectly.

I hoped I could be as good a father to Lizzie as Charlie was to Bella. That I could raise Lizzie to be strong and independent, to believe in herself and follow her pure heart, just like her mother. I wanted to be able to trust her to make the right decisions the way Charlie and I both trusted her mom.

Who was giving me another of her too-observant looks.

She innocently lowered her gaze to our intertwined hands. "Carlisle's pretty amazing," she commented casually.

I tried not to snicker. She knew that I was thinking about her dad, and she wanted me to be fair with my thoughts. And she was right. My adoptive father was pretty amazing, too. He'd put up with a lot and still managed to be an impeccable role model. And according to Bella, he'd raised a perfect son.

Which I couldn't argue… since I trusted her opinion.

I was grinning when I pulled into the parking lot at the apartment. As we climbed out of the car, I returned, "So is Charlie… and Renee, Esme, Phil—"

"Lizzie has such a great family." Bella leaned into the back seat. "Don't you, sweetheart?"

Lizzie let out a little squeal when Bella lifted her from the car seat. I chuckled. "I guess she agrees," I commented as I shouldered the diaper bag and rounded the car to join them.

Bella brushed her fingertips down Lizzie's cheek as we started for the apartment. "She's happy to be home," she remarked. "I think she was starting to fall asleep."

"I'm happy to be home, too." I ran a hand over Bella's hair and let her pass me on the stairs. At the apartment, I moved ahead of her to open the door. When we were inside, I set the diaper bag by the coffee table and turned to face my girls.

Bella was distracted when she moved to stand beside me. "Go ahead and shower," she urged as she started removing Lizzie's outerwear.

I grinned. "Daddy stinks?" I taunted, stepping in close.

Bella tilted her head back to smile up at me. "You're a little sweaty," she replied. Her hand lifted with Lizzie's cap still in it to press to my chest. "Not that I mind. But Lizzie might."

I shifted my attention to our daughter. "Do you mind?" I asked her.

She blinked and yawned at me. Bella laughed. "You'd mind if I went to get my shower first and left you with him," she reminded her, reaching up to smooth Lizzie's curls from where the cap had mussed them – curls that were inherited from Charlie, but were the same shade of bronze as my hair.

"Okay, okay. I'm going." I slowly backed away, keeping my eyes on them for as long as I could. I loved seeing Bella standing there with our baby on her hip. And when she raised Lizzie's little hand to wave at me, I felt like I might just explode.

The second I was out of their sight, I practically ran to the bathroom. I couldn't wait to get back to them.

Which, of course, meant that the shower head decided not to work.

I raced around, gathering my tools, and called to Bella that I had to fix the shower. I heard a vague "Okay" drift out of Lizzie's room. Five minutes later, my wife appeared in the bathroom to ask if I needed help. With my curt "No, thanks," she made a hasty exit.

It took almost half an hour to fix the shower head. By the time I finished, I really was living up to Bella's "sweaty" description, so I tossed my tools into the corner of the bathroom and hurried into the shower.

As soon as I was in my pajamas, I darted down the hall to the living room. And immediately skidded to a halt to stare at what I found there.

Bella was stretched out on her back on the couch. Lizzie was lying on her chest. Bella's head was tilted down, her cheek resting lightly against the top of Lizzie's head.

Both were fast asleep.

I felt a smile stretching so wide across my face it almost hurt. Slowly, I crept over to the couch to take a closer look.

A novel was upside-down over Bella's thigh, tented open to the page she'd been reading. I glanced down at the cover. Pride and Prejudice. So Bella had been teaching our Lizzie of the escapades of Lizzie Bennet. That wasn't a surprise; Austen was one of Bella's favorite authors. She reread this particular novel and a variety of other classics on a regular basis. And now, she regularly read her novels aloud to Lizzie.

Even before Lizzie was born, Bella had read aloud to her. She had told me that the baby would settle down during each "performance," giving her a much-needed break from the kicks and jabs while allowing her to keep up with her literary addiction. The same theory applied now: Bella kept up with her own reading, and Lizzie got her story time.

It truly was amazing to watch the two of them when they settled in to read. Our daughter loved her mother's voice. She would listen intently to its gentle cadence for impressive stretches of time.

And so would I.

I never knew for sure which novel Bella was reading at the time because I never heard the words. I was too focused on the sound of it, on the lyrical quality of her voice. It was like music. A natural composition, rich and beautiful. And Lizzie definitely agreed with me. Bella could read entire chapters without interruption. Sometimes she could make it deep into a second chapter before Lizzie would drift off.

I loved their reading time. And I was sorry I had missed it today.

My eyes moved from the novel on Bella's thigh to her hand resting on her stomach. The urge to touch her suddenly overwhelmed me. I reached out to lightly trace the pale crescent moon-shaped scar on the back of her hand. There wasn't a single mark on her skin that I didn't have memorized. Every freckle, every mole, every scar… And she had plenty of those. My wife was incredibly clumsy.

But I loved that about her. Even though I hated that she ever had been hurt, I adored each and every one of her scars. Each one held a story; they added up to make her who she was. I always told her that her clumsiness made her intriguing. She always rolled her eyes.

I always meant it.

There was one particular scar that was my fault, though. And although it made me feel guilty even now, it still was my favorite of all her scars. It marked the moment when I'd first seen her face: the tiny spot inside her left arm from where I'd stabbed her with an arrow at the Renaissance Festival when we were seventeen. The scar I kissed regularly in apology – and affection.

I let my fingertips ghost over that scar now before my gaze drifted to the baby sleeping on her chest. Lizzie's skin was perfect. Pale and nearly translucent, just like Bella's. I wondered if she would inherit Bella's clumsiness. If her skin would continue to match her mother's as she grew older, scar for scar. I never wanted our daughter to be hurt, but if she was like Bella, she would have dozens of "war wounds" by the time she reached high school.

And she would be every bit as beautiful as her mother.

I lifted my hand from Bella's skin and reached back to grab my cell phone off the coffee table. Carefully, I angled so I could get a picture of my wife with her cheek resting against the top of our daughter's head. Then I set the photo as Bella's image in my phone and returned the cell to the table.

After a moment, I eased the book from Bella's leg and took it with me to the rocking chair beside the couch. I gazed at my girls for a minute longer before I looked down at the page Bella had left open. I was curious to see where they had left off. And as I skimmed the page, I smiled to myself, hearing Bella's voice reading the words aloud in my head.

Gradually, her voice worked itself into a new composition in my mind. I set the book aside and let my fingers move absently as I composed. The song I was producing was a pale imitation of the music of her voice, but it was a decent piece.

The melody shifted slightly when my eyes wandered to the two still sleeping on the couch next to me. My two greatest inspirations.

I often composed like this. Listening to Bella. Watching her with Lizzie. Bella knew that she was my muse, but I doubted that she knew just how strong her influence was, or how it was magnified when she was with our daughter. Just being near them was enough to inspire me.

I was able to compose almost the entire song before Lizzie started to stir. When I noticed her small movements, I crossed to the couch to get her before she could wake Bella. I gently slipped my hands around her and started to lift.

Bella's arm instantly constricted around Lizzie. Her eyes flashed open. They were dark, almost violent, when they shot to my face. I stopped trying to pick Lizzie up, but I kept my hands loose over her. Then Bella blinked, and her body slowly relaxed. "Edward?"

I smiled down at her. "Hey there, Mama Bear."

Apology flooded her eyes. She looked horrified as she quickly loosened her grip on our daughter. "I'm sorry."

I lifted Lizzie from her chest. "It's fine," I assured her. Lizzie started to wriggle in my arms, agitated by my lack of attention to her wet diaper, but I paused to run my fingertips down Bella's cheek, concerned by the unsettled expression that still lingered on her face. "Bad dream?"

"No. Just… I felt you taking Lizzie from me, and I wasn't awake enough to comprehend that it was you. I didn't like that feeling."

That made perfect sense to me. I nodded and gently brushed her hair back from her face. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"It's okay. I'm awake now."

I stepped back as Bella sat up and stood. Lizzie was really getting cranky now, so I shifted her in my arm and raised my voice a little over her complaints. "I'll take care of her if you want to go get your shower."

Bella finally smiled. "Mommy smells, too?" she teased.

I leaned in to bury my nose in her hair. "Like heaven," I murmured. I pressed a kiss to her hair and eased back. The look on her face made my heart slam a little too hard. "Go ahead. I'll get Lizzie changed and fed while you're gone. Then we can have dinner. Maybe watch a movie after Lizzie's bath?"

"Heaven," Bella agreed. She kissed the top of Lizzie's head, then she lifted up on her toes to brush a soft kiss over my lips. "I'll be right out."

I watched her disappear down the hall, then I carried Lizzie to her room. She squealed and gurgled as I changed her – likely commenting on what she thought I was doing wrong – then she attacked her bottle with a vengeance when I fed her, draining it quickly like she always did. Before she was finished, I heard Bella already rummaging around in the kitchen. True to her word. I smiled as I finished up with Lizzie and brought her back out to meet her mom.

Bella paused when she saw us. "Is the leftover lasagna okay?"

"That's great." Really great, I amended mentally. Bella's lasagna was freaking amazing. Anything Bella cooked was freaking amazing, actually. I watched her for a moment as she glided around the kitchen in her pajamas and damp hair, then I glanced down at the baby in my arms. Lizzie loved mealtimes now, but when she was older and got a taste of her mother's cooking, that appetite of hers would be put to good use.

And my daughter definitely would have the best lunches in the entire school.

Grinning to myself over the trades Lizzie could make for her mom's cooking, I headed into the living room. I spread Lizzie's blanket out on the carpet and laid her carefully on her tummy in the center of it. She immediately got her hands under her. I backed away, watching as she raised her head and shoulders from the blanket to investigate her surroundings the best she could.

Bella caught my smile when I joined her in the kitchen. "What?" she demanded, grinning back.

I peered in at our daughter. "Lizzie's doing her push-ups," I replied.

"Ah." Bella moved past me to get two glasses from the cupboard. When she started by again, I reached out to catch her arm. She stopped and turned to face me. I grabbed the flannel at her hips to pull her closer. She stepped in and angled her head back. My hands lifted to slide into her heavy, damp hair. Her grin widened as my fingers slipped through the dark waves. "What happened to the conspiracy?"

"My co-conspirator is busy."

"Hm." She tilted her head into my touch. "That's okay. You're doing fine on your own."

"Am I, now," I teased.

"You always do." She leaned in to kiss me, then she abruptly pulled back. "Now stop distracting me, or it'll be time for Lizzie's bath before we even get to have dinner."

I chuckled and took the glasses she shoved into my hands. "Yes, ma'am."

As I moved to the sink to fill the cups with water, Bella finished getting the lasagna ready. "I feel like I didn't get to talk to you at all yesterday," she commented.

"We didn't get to talk much," I agreed. We both had been tired when we'd gotten home, so we'd just taken care of Lizzie and gone to bed.

"How did rehearsal go?"

"It went fine. The program is almost ready. Which is good, since the first concert is next week," I mused. I carried the two glasses into the living room and set them on the coffee table. Lizzie flopped down on her belly, then pushed back up on her hands again when I walked by. I paused to smile at her before I added, "If Alistair would quit irritating Maggie, we'd be perfect."

Bella snickered. "Maggie's going to stab him with her baton one of these days."

I grinned at her imagery. But she may not be too far off. Our director was a very patient and friendly woman, but our concertmaster had a way of finding her dark side. Regularly. "So how did your classes go yesterday?"

"Mrs. Varner is doing really well," Bella replied. She paused to collect silverware and napkins. "And my new student, Samantha? I like her."

There was another pause as she gathered the plates. I moved to meet her as she started into the living room. She let me take my plate and trailed me to the couch. When we were seated close together with our plates on our laps, she went on, "I think she gets picked on at school a little. She's really quiet. Going to be a good artist. And she likes Lizzie," she added with a smile.

I nodded thoughtfully. Samantha was a 10-year-old whose mother had approached Bella a few weeks ago about art lessons. I remembered Bella saying that the girl's mother had mentioned that Samantha sketched a lot in her notebooks, and she always stared at Bella's studio when they passed. The mother thought that even though Samantha hadn't brought it up, she really wanted to take classes. So Bella had agreed to gauge the girl's interest and work with her if she truly seemed to want to be there. From Bella's reaction, it seemed that Samantha did want to be there. And I knew that Bella wanted her there. Bullied kids in need of an outlet were one of my wife's passions. She wanted to help them.

And she did. She hadn't been giving lessons long, but already five of her young students had shown great progress in their art and in their personal lives. The kids, from ages seven to seventeen, were greatly attached to her. Their parents were grateful to her. I'd met them all last week during a small open house Bella had hosted, and when I'd heard the praise they'd given my wife and seen the clear adoration the kids had for her… I hadn't been surprised. But I'd been almost overwhelmed with pride.

Bella truly was an inspiration.

I reached over to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. She started to turn her head toward me, but she suddenly froze. "Oh my God," she whispered.

I instantly was on alert. "What?"

"Lizzie's on her back." Bella's wide eyes met mine. "She rolled over."

My eyes shot to our daughter. Lizzie was waving her arms toward the ceiling. She seemed perplexed by her new position. And a little frustrated as she began to realize that she couldn't roll back over.

But Bella and I were extremely excited.

We simultaneously abandoned our plates on the coffee table and moved to sit on the floor on either side of Lizzie's blanket. For nearly an hour, we sat with our daughter, encouraging and applauding her each time she rolled onto her back, then helping her return to her stomach so she could do it again.

When she grew tired, Bella took her to get her bath and get ready for bed. I cleaned up the remains of our dinner as I listened to the sounds from down the hall. Bella's soft voice mingled with Lizzie's quiet cooing and occasional squeal. Their loving interaction was every bit as soothing and lyrical as their reading sessions. I couldn't stop smiling as I listened.

As I composed again.

I set up a DVD and sat on the couch to wait for Bella. When she returned, I opened my arms to her. She smiled widely and immediately snuggled against my chest. I held her close, soaking in her electricity and the strawberry and freesia scent of her as we settled comfortably without a word.

As the movie started, my mind wandered. I knew that my friends hadn't meant for their teasing to be taken seriously when I'd left the park, but their words popped into my head as I thought back on the events of my day. Maybe, to some people, I was an old married man. Maybe my day would have been excruciatingly boring for them. Maybe they would think my life was being controlled by the two females in it.

But to me? My life was my girls. It was strawberries and smiles and squeals. Reading time and rolling over practice. Coos and electric currents. Fixing bathrooms and giving baths. Listening and laughing. And loving. Through naps and scars and forgotten meals, through firsts and repeats and more of the same.

To me, it could never be boring. To me, it was just…

Inspired.