Title: The Day The Earth Stood Still
Author: Sare Liz
Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Continuity: Midnight Sun, EPOV, Canon pairings, Canon ontology, AU.
Rating: M.

Book Two: One More Year 'Til Forever
Chapter 13: ...Yeah, uh, no.
A/N: We didn't have a chapter thirteen last time. You think I'd suddenly start now?

Chapter 14: In Transit
A/N: Yes. This is half the length of one of my chapters, but honestly; I could only deal with Edward reminiscing so long.

Elongated Author's Note: Okay. Christmas. So, here's the thing. For many of you this will be interesting or neutral, and for some of you this will make you flip your wig. So, if you're feeling flippy, as an official professional in this field I'm going to give you my officially professional advice: Deep Breaths.

Yes, Bella & Edward are going to a Christmas Eve Service at a mainline protestant church.

No, I will not describe it all.

Yes, I maintain this is utterly in character. (Have you noticed how often Edward struggles with this shit in canon? Seriously, people. That boy needs pastoral care from a progressive theologian like nobody's business. -Tell him I've got time in my schedule, would you?)

No, I am not trying to shove religion down your throat.

Yes, I am a priest (in case you've forgotten, or overlooked this tidbit of information in the past).

No, I do not look at my church or The Church or Religion In General through rose colored glasses. Perhaps you've picked up on this. Perhaps this information still eludes you.

So saying, it's only like... a page and a half. But still, some of you have had a minor freak out about this in reviews, and it's not my intention to provide so much challenge to anyone that they need to take prozac afterwards. (This is not to say I don't intend to provide challenge, mind... :)

Traveling to the Amazon was a multi-day affair. Our flight to Manaus, a small city located deep in the jungle, and the closest decent airport to where we needed to be, left at an ungodly hour in the morning... from Miami. So Bella and I flew from Jacksonville to Miami the day before and stayed in a hotel near the airport. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best that could be done.

Interestingly enough, there were direct flights from Manaus to Seattle, and we had two First Class tickets for that fifteen hour flight to get us back in the Pacific Northwest in time for school to begin in another twelve days. There was some question whether or not we might finish up early and go to Rio instead - much more interesting than Manaus if you care more about nightlife than wildlife, but that remained to be seen. Either way, flights were easily changed things.

Bella and I boarded early and settled into the first class seats on the jet at Miami International Airport and strapped in for our five hour morning flight to Brazil. Bella had asked me to recite Jane Eyre for her. It was just after six o'clock and it would be another short while before the plane was completely boarded.

As I recited the novel from the beginning, my own dramatic interpretation of it, I admit that I multitasked, something I don't usually do with Bella unless strictly necessary, but my mind was wandering over the past seventy-two hours of the first Christmas I'd celebrated in memory.

I liked the incense at the midnight church service, and the candles were nice, too. The music was just delightful - there were four pieces of brass, plus a violin cello, harp and organ. I enjoyed singing with the rest of the people gathered and Bella, who I realized belatedly had never heard me sing... well, it was nice to be in her head while I did. Very complimentary. After the first hymn she had extracted my whispered promise to sing to her more often.

I had my arm around Bella the entire time, save when we got up to receive communion. I was surprised - in all of our previous church experiences, Bella had refrained, and I with her. And yet, there we were on Christmas Eve. I slid out of our pew first and stood back, waiting for her to proceed me as we stood in a slow moving line. Even so it wasn't long before we were at the people who were distributing the bread and the wine. Automatically assuming a gesture I barely recalled, I crossed my arms over my chest, fingertips touching my shoulders. The priest with one hand on a basket of bread, raised one hand to my forehead. I could feel the sting in my eyes as she spoke, her blessing a murmuring cadence.

"Brother, walk in the knowledge that you are a blessed child of our God; Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier. Amen."

Mutely, I walked the three steps to the man with a chalice of wine in his hand. I was going to pass him by, but he called to me softly, "Wait." I turned to him and replaced my hands across my chest, but he presented the silver chalice to me even so, but clearly not intending to put it to my lips, or for me to take it. He just held it there between us, just below the level of our eyes, which met.

"The Covenant is remade in Him, and in you. Amen."

"Amen," I echoed in a whisper before turning away.

As I knelt down after returning to the pew, a prayer came to me, from where I couldn't remember, though it was clear to me that I hadn't come up with it on my own.

"We do not presume to come to this, thy table O Merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table, but thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy. Grant us, therefore, Gracious Lord..."

But I couldn't remember any more.

Trappings of religion aside, I wasn't sure if I believed in anything. I did suspect a great deal, however, and I suspected that if God did exist - which I was suspecting more and more often these days - Bella's love for me being my first clue, and orgasms being my second - then it was possible, possible mind, though not certain... It was possible that we were in the created, evolved order of things, and not, in fact, inherently evil.

Is a snake evil if it bites a human and kills it with venom? A scorpion? A sting ray? A jelly fish? Is a bull evil if it gores a human simply for being in the wrong places at the wrong time? A bison, for trampling one? Is a bear evil if it kills and eats a human, instead of a seal? A shark? ...A vampire?

Perhaps the answer is actually no. Perhaps.

Communion on Christmas Eve had been particularly difficult, but in ways I would have never imagined. Was religion supposed to be this... challenging?

Christmas morning had been delightful. The night before Bella had been tired when we finally undressed and slipped into bed so I'd spread the ultra-thin cashmere blanket over her side of the bed and held her. I stroked the long length of her side as she quickly drifted into sleep. I felt her mind soften and relax around me.

She dreamed I was an angel, again, only that night I was singing to her in her dreams. Eight hours exactly from when she fell asleep I woke her in our usual fashion, placing soft kisses along the notes to her nocturne as they laid a trail up her thigh to the sweet juncture between both. It took four and a half minutes of gentle caressing of her hips, her belly, her thighs, the back of her knees before she was aroused enough to begin producing her delicious lubrication. The moment I smelled it I began the gentle process of Bella's cunnilingual wake up call.

Ten minutes later I was pulsing inside of her, catching the tale end of a surprisingly long orgasm. The movement of her body was as luscious and languid as her mind as they both cradled my gentle thrusts and soft words of devotion.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," I whispered to her as she caught her breath afterwards. I was still fully sheathed, the length of my body pressed against hers, cooling her down as I held myself above her, offering only a fraction of my weight to her. I shivered and smiled then, feeling her hands rub up and down my sides and back, the insides of her legs rubbing over the outside of my own.

We spent the next two hours gently loving one another.

I continued in my recitation of Jane Eyre as my mind skipped along to the more social part of our Christmas morning.

I wanted to savor her present to me. We'd laughed when she opened mine and I opened hers - outwardly, our presents were exactly alike. They were both plain black blank journals, roughly the side of a trade paperback book. I happened to know that the going rate for such journals, before any pen touched their paper, was eight dollars and fifty cents, plus tax. After a pen touched their paper? Well, Bella's present to me was priceless. I remember so clearly flipping through it, seeing all of its blank white pages filled with her handwriting which changed from tiny to sprawling, a change no doubt that depended upon her mood. I was amazed. I was astounded. I was deeply touched.

When had she had time to write all of this?

How had I never noticed her doing this? How had I never even seen this book before? How had I not so much as guessed at its existence?

I remember her words to me at that moment. "It didn't seem fair. I mean, I got to read your journals," and that's a side of you I might not have gotten to see, even if I could have read your mind, she finished in her mind. "So I started keeping one, for you." Think of it as an all access pass to the places in my head I rarely let you see.

I held the book close to my chest with one hand, then, and reached with one hand over the distance between us as we sat on the floor surrounded by half-filled coffee mugs and ripped wrapping paper and trimmings next to the illuminated tree. I took Bella by the back of her neck and drew her toward me, meeting her half way, and kissed her deeply.

"Thank you, love," I had said after our kiss.

I'd read her first entry that night after my love fell asleep. I'd started in thinking that I would want to savor the experience, draw it out, read only a few pages each day before I would inevitably draw to the end of the book and have to beg Bella to write me another one. As it turns out, I could only read the first entry, three pages, before I had to close the book and clutch it to my chest.

To say that my ego was bruised was to understate the matter.

It was just as well I'd read it while alone. The irony alone was a bitter pill to swallow; but swallow I would. It was only painful because it was true. Bella's skin was fragile, and her bones, and her blood vessels, all, yes. And yet she had such inner strength - inner strength that I relied on quite often.

I could feel my eyes beginning to burn, the sure signal that if I could, tears would be welling up in them. Why couldn't I be stronger? Why?

I took a deep breath and her scent filled my senses. She'd be so angry if she knew I had such a reaction to her gift, or possibly she would be hurt. I know she didn't write this in order to hurt me, but only to be honest. And she wrote nothing demeaning, nothing over dramatic, nothing untrue.

Oh, but the truth can carry a sting with it.

I took a deep breath and recalled that Bella loved me at least as much as I loved her. She wrote these things so I could know a part of her I don't know now. She wrote because she knows I desperately want to know. She did not write to make me feel bad - in that way, this has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with her. This is about her. Her thoughts. Her perceptions. That is what I reminded myself of, in that moment.

The pain passed, though not as quickly as I might have hoped. Still, I read and reread that journal entry. On the tenth reading of it I was able to finally see how full of hope it truly was. Somehow that hope had eluded me on the first nine readings. I'm not sure why.

I packed the journal in our checked luggage, though not my other gift from Bella. I smiled, remembering carefully opening the envelope of wrapping paper that had encased it.

It was a stiff card of paper with writing, and a simple drawing on it. It was the size of credit card, but it had the feeling of an identification card. I took it in all at once, but was drawn to the little drawing in a box on the upper left of the card. I remember looking up at Bella with a grin and asking, "Is this supposed to be me?" In the box was a simple smiley face - two dots for eyes and an upward arc for a grin. Underneath the box were the words, 'Edward A. M. Cullen' written in black marker. To the right, writ large were the words, 'CROWING LICENSE'. Underneath it was the date we were due to return to Forks. Under that, the words, 'This license permits the bearer to crow from the rooftops the news of his engagement to Ms. Bella Swan.'

"It's not just you," she had said. "It's you, before and after crowing."

I'd handed the card to her mother, who was confused at that point, and leaned over to my love. I cupped her face in both hands and kissed her soundly - again.

It was small, it was silly, it was handmade, and... and it meant everything to me. I thought about the card that I'd slipped in front of my driver's license in my wallet. The very thought of it brought a smile to my face. How should I go about crowing it from the rooftops?

I wondered if Eric wanted a scoop. I imagined it all very clearly. If the school newspaper functioned as it had in years past, then an issue would come out the Friday morning of our first week back. I could wait to put an announcement in the local paper. I would catch him between classes, draw him to the side of traffic between buildings and ask him if he wanted the high school social scoop of the century. Perhaps I would bait him a bit. Perhaps I wouldn't. I'd give him directions to the house.

I could imagine him arriving shortly after we did, notebook and camera in hand. Rosalie in the garage, but Emmett in the kitchen, both home over their extended 'winter break' from college. Alice and Jasper still out of the picture - we weren't sure if they were going to come home at Christmas or not. And then enter Leah, stage right, with the newspaper in her hand - she'd been very interested in learning about finance lately, and was tracking several stocks in a fantasy buying and selling game she'd created for herself, refusing to do so for real while she was still 'learning.' Enter half the pack, stage left, hungry as hell. They always hit the kitchen before the garage, and Emmett always had something waiting for them on the counter.

We would join them in the kitchen and snack on whatever Emmett had prepared - I would force down one of whatever it was. I could do that, at least, and we could try to elbow our way past the quorum of Jacob's pack, and they would tease us as far as we would let them before Emmett started threatening them with one of his large chopping knives to leave 'the lovebirds' alone or he wouldn't fix dinner and they could all suffer with pizza instead of whatever master creation he had been planning for the last forty-eight hours.

And when the pack scattered to the winds and Leah retreated to the living room, Bella, Eric, and I would pull up stools to the island in the kitchen, Emmett would put cans of Coke in front of us, and he would interview us as Emmett went about his business, humming to himself. And then Friday morning Bella would wear her engagement ring for the first time to school. And we'd tell Charlie that we'd finally gone public with the news. And I could send in an announcement to the local newspaper and email the priest and let her know. And Tanya. I smiled inwardly at the thought even as I continued to recite the gothic novel of Bella's choice to her. I would definitely have to call our cousins in Denali and let them know the good news.

Should we tell them all? Should we tell them about Elisabeth and Sebastian? Perhaps we'll keep that information for a telling in person, when they came either to meet Bella, or for the second wedding early next summer.

I thought about that for a moment, still reciting dramatically to Bella.

Now that I thought about it... I wondered how the sisters, most particularly, would take the news of half-vampire progeny. While I did not know all the details there were to know, I did know that several centuries ago the Volturi killed their mother during the Immortal Children debacle. My knowledge of the terror and heartache that was inflicted during that time of suffering was the primary motivation of my initial fear and reluctance to even consider trying to get Bella pregnant. Obviously a child born to a vampire/human couple wouldn't quite be the same as taking a child - a five year old, or seven year old, say - and turning them into a vampire, thus stunting their mental, emotional, and moral development, to say nothing of permanently solidifying them as a physical child until such time as they were killed, but until Alice had the vision of the twins as adults - sane, functioning, humorous, mated adults - my mind went to a painfully similar place.

Nothing has terrorized our world - not an army of newborns, not werewolves, not the great Fae War of the 1300's - nothing has scarred our collective psyche more than the Immortal Children.

It wrenched my heart even now to consider it, and to consider how I had once associated my own unborn children with that misguided monstrosity. In that moment of contemplation during recitation, Bella noticed my distraction and my first impulse was to lie to her, to smile and say it was nothing and continue on, but I didn't. First, I didn't want her to second-guess her own intuition, because she was right; there was something. Second, there was no good reason to lie, except to cover my own discomfort with my initial reaction to understanding that our fecundity together was no less than Bella's alone. So instead, I sighed, licked my lips and paused in my recitation.

I told Bella all I knew of the Immortal Children.

Since we were in a public place, even as secluded as we were in our comfortable nook in First Class, I made it into a fairy tale - thinly veiled. Really, I tacked on 'Once upon a time,' before I actually mentioned the dates in question. Bella understood.

"What brought this on?" she asked once I was finished. That sounds just awful. I mean, I can't even imagine it. It sounds like something out of a bad Hollywood B horror movie or something. Seriously - who thought that was a good idea? Making children into vampires? Geez, I'm going to have nightmares about this tonight, I just know it. That's just wrong on so many levels.

I took a deep breath and wrapped myself deeper in her mind. I didn't want to have to say it, but I knew I needed to do so. I had no idea how she would respond.

"When I found out we could have children, that's what I feared we would have - that, or something even more nightmarish," I whispered. "We'll have to tell the Denalis about the twins at some point sooner than later, and it dawned on me we might want to do that in person."

Bella snorted. "Or after the fact," she muttered.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

Okay, okay, okay. I'm just nervous about the whole Tanya thing. I mean, seriously, Edward. The Siberian Succubus? Some chick who has actively tried to seduce you in the past? You can't think I'm going to love that.

I mean, sure, you haven't dated her, you haven't... had sex with her... The fact that the thought of it annoyed you even at the time is some consolation, but according to your journals, every time she sees you she tries again, if only just a little, just to see if you've changed your mind...

I sighed and grinned at my love. With one finger beneath her chin I drew her face to mine. I shook my head slightly. "Nothing," I murmured lowly, "in heaven or on earth could make me loose my focus from you. Nothing," I stated simply. And then I kissed her.

A flight attendant walked by. Someone got up to go to use the lavatory. Someone else walked by and sighed at us. Still, we kissed.

Okay. Feeling better about meeting Tanya.

I quirked up a corner of my lips and spoke softly. "Really, I feel for her. Her sisters, too, but it seems like Kate and Irina have handled the stress of not finding their mates better than Tanya. She only wanted me because she'd given up on finding her mate, and I was her only choice. I am, after all, the only single heterosexual male vegetarian, and as I told you before, the jury was out on whether or not I'd been turned too early to find a mate of my own."

I can't imagine living a thousand years in this world without having met you. I mean, my mate. I mean, not like, now. If I had to face living any number of years without you, having had you, that would be... just... I... no. No. Not happening. But that's not what I meant. I mean, knowing at least intellectually that there was this vampire mating business that was all that and a bag of chips, but then never actually meeting my mate... or someone who could be my mate, or however it works, not having that for like, a thousand years. I can't imagine how she did it. It does put it in a better perspective, I agree. Still, it would be even easier for me to be kind and understanding if it hadn't been my mate she was trying to seduce a few decades ago.

She'd better respect the fact that you're taken from here on out though, or all my empathy is going to melt like ice in Phoenix.

I smiled and kissed her again, this time combing my fingers through her hair. I sighed into her mouth and resisted the urge to purr as my tongue slid against hers.

Life was good.

When were finished with our extraordinarily leisurely kiss, we resumed our former positions and I continued to recite, but soon enough my mind wandered back to the gift giving.

Bella had particularly enjoyed my gift to her. Outwardly it was exactly the same as her gift to me - a simple black blank-paged journal, a cheap hardcover book that retailed for eight dollars and fifty cents. But whereas Bella had used hers to chronicle her thoughts, I had filled each page with pen and ink sketches, mostly of the two of us, but three of Bella alone, and three of myself alone. Most of the sketches were from my memory of situations we'd actually been in. A few were from her dreams - in several, for instance, I had wings, and I couldn't resist her first dream of me in the police line up, and then later on, handcuffed on her bed in Charlie's house. Of all the drawings, twenty-three were not sexual. There were one hundred and fifty drawings. Ten spanned two pages.

Bella had been struck silent when she opened the journal to the first and most innocuous pages, and then blushed a deep red as she looked several pages beyond in front of her mother. Oh my goodness, it's my own personalized Kama Sutra!

I hadn't been able to resist grinning, though I tamped down the laughter. Renee had only asked if we'd coordinated gifts, then rolled her eyes when we said we hadn't.

"Two peas in a pod, clearly," she'd said. Bless her, she never inquired after the contents of either journal.

I smiled to recall the images that had made Bella blush.

Bella perched on the key cover of my piano, one hand on my naked shoulder, one hand bracing herself on the closed top cover as I thrust into her, looking onto the scene from over my right shoulder. Her slim legs were wrapped around my naked waist. The muscles from my shoulders to my thighs along my back were taut and flexing as I pictured myself mid-thrust for her benefit. Her face clearly displayed the extent and volume of her ecstasy.

Myself, bare except for my boxer briefs and my Adonis' belt, the day I conducted the experiment in the locker room. It was one of the pictures of me alone. Bella had wished at the time that she could have been there to see the look on my face. I drew it for her, instead. I was rather smirky and smug, as I recall. I think it came out satisfactorily in the drawing.

At that point she'd slowly closed the journal. I think I'll save the rest for when I'm not in the same room as Renee and Phil. But oh, baby! You've outdone yourself. She thanked me aloud as well, and then later that afternoon, and then later that evening... In the evening we'd laid down together as she looked at more of the drawings, urging me to explain my choices. It led to the inevitable reenactment of some them, as well. I'd taken Bella from behind as we lay side-by-each, groaning as her mind spun us off from one fantasy to another each time she turned the page and was reminded of something else.

Bella and I were paused as we sat snug together on the airplane when the attendant came around to collect our breakfast order. Bella was intrigued with the idea of champagne and orange juice at breakfast, but I agreed with her that today wasn't the day to experiment with drinking. When the attendant shifted her focus away to take our neighbor's order, I said as much to Bella as she snuggled back into my side.

"I'll be happy to be your bartender any time between the middle of next month and the twin's conception, but I agree, love, today's not the day."

I thought briefly of what awaited us. I hadn't found the right moment to tell Bella that the situation had escalated somewhat. Carlisle caught me while I was remaining behind a few days ago, ostensibly with a migraine. I hadn't wanted to bring it up with Bella while she enjoyed Christmas with her mother, but neither did it seem right to put it off any longer. Jane Eyre could wait.

Not bad. I don't suppose we could go out somewhere interesting? I mean, I've never been in a bar - well, okay, that's obvious - but I'm sort of intrigued with the idea of a nightclub. I mean, I'd probably break my ankle if I tried to dance, but it seems like the right place to get a little drunk with you and soak up the atmosphere while I'm still human, you know? I don't suppose... um, fake id's? Is that... I mean, you guys do that anyway, right? Or does this stretch your morals too far? I mean, you'd be with me, and not remotely intoxicated. You'd never let anything happen to me. Maybe we could stay over night in Seattle or something? You could drive your fancy grey sports car... Bella's internal monologue ended on a decidedly wheedling note.

I grinned at her, despite having half a mind on what awaited us when we landed. "Absolutely," I answered her softly. "We'll make a weekend of it. Speaking of which, have you informed Charlie that we're going to Phoenix over Spring Break?"

"Uh, no." I admit it totally slipped my mind. I should, though. I will. At some point. Soon. Ish. Promise. Remind me?

I chuckled quietly, but quickly the smile slipped away from my face as I thought about how to tell Bella what Carlisle told me. Directly would probably be the best way.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Bella mumbled at me, eyes narrowed, shifting now that the seatbelt sign was off so that she was reclined, her legs curled up in her seat, her head on a pillow in my lap.

I shifted my hands, one over her stomach and one brushing back the tendrils of hair around her face. "I got a call from Carlisle when you were out with Renee and Phil the other day."

"Mmmhmm," she murmured. And? I take it that it wasn't hugely stellar news, then, given your lack of Yay!Face.

I think my moment of incredulity at Bella's terminology must have shown on my face, as she smirked at me, but I let it pass without comment.

"Nahuel's being... difficult."

Bella's brow creased. "He was being that before," she said softly. Her mental space was soft and quiet, full of questions without form.

"From what we understand - and there is something of a language barrier - Nahuel's father was exceedingly unscrupulous and abandoned his mother after seducing her, leaving her to a difficult pregnancy and a labor she did not live through, only to come back and try to collect him later on, like luggage left in a lost and found. The degree to which he doesn't trust our intentions has only intensified since Carlisle arrived."

It was only as Bella was nodding her understanding of the question, only as I saw her begin to roll the issue around in that politically savvy mind of hers that her - our, really - breakfasts were delivered by the hyper efficient flight attendants of the First Class cabin.

She sat up again and ate in silence, not really thinking directly on the issue, but letting all she knew about it swell up and then ebb away out of her consciousness. I watched as she made connections that way, unconsciously. Rosalie to Jacob, Rosalie to Esme, Esme to Nahuel, Nahuel to his friend - whose name she could not recall - herself to the Cullens, Nahuel to the Twins. She was unwittingly measuring everyone against everyone else to see who had similarities, who had traits, values, and desires in common. I realized that this was the foundation of her future arguments - the Harvard Business School would call it non-positional bargaining.

I left her to it and contented myself entirely in watching her brain tick over, making connections from the thinnest of possibilities that I would have utterly disregarded, and then figuring out with ease how best to build that connection, should it be necessary. For the first time in my life, I found myself if not at ease in the face of a difficult situation looming in the future, then at least... without significant worry.

An hour later, her breakfast cleared and political musings finished, Bella turned to me. Four more hours. Aren't you bored, yet?

I cocked my head at her and brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead. "I don't get bored easily these days," I said softly.

These days? "Post-Bella?" she asked aloud.

I quirked an eyebrow at her. She had the right idea, but this was a hair I was ready to split. "I sincerely hope there will never be any post-Bella days, love."

She rolled her eyes at me. You know what I mean.

I shrugged a single shoulder and grinned a tiny half-smile.

"What should we talk about?" Bella asked softly, now playing with the wedding band on my left hand.

"Rosalie seems to be preparing for war."

Hey-what? Bella gave me a look that spoke of her incredulity.

I shrugged again. "She hasn't actually started stockpiling weapons yet, but it may just be a matter of time. I don't know who she thinks she's going to be fighting, though."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Bella said all at once. "Back up. How do you know this. Did you hear..." she trailed off and gestured with her hand.

I shook my head. "I spend most of my time with you, so I spend most of my time blissfully unaware. But I still pay the bills, and given what she's been charging, I'd be frankly surprised if the FBI doesn't have a file on her. I've been meaning to talk with her about that. Anyway, she started with the theory, and I'm sure she started in Jasper's library, because she only bought pertinent manuals that he didn't already have. But I went sniffing around there, too, once I realized. She's spent some quality time in that room."

"Jasper has his own library?"

I nodded. "Mostly dedicated to warcraft and the history of war."

She gave me a confused look. Why? "Why?"

I thought briefly about how much to tell her right now. I leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Jasper was an officer in the civil war before he was changed. And he was recruited from one war to another. Come to think of it, you might not actually be able to see the scars, but he's covered in them - vampire bite marks. To have so many - hundreds, one on top of another - and still be walking marks him as a seriously dangerous individual. I forget that the human eye doesn't actually pick it up."

Wait, wait, vampire bites leave marks? You never leave marks on me... or can I just not see them? Oh, my god! Does your entirely family know about the fact that you bite me while we're in bed and I'm JUST NOW FINDING OUT?

Quickly I made to soothe her. "No, no, no," I said, no longer whispering in her ear, but now whispering with my forehead pressed against hers. "I don't leave a mark that anyone can see. Mine is a gentle bite, in fact calling it a 'bite' might actually be a misnomer. It's really more like a slit in your skin, and I heal it the moment after I've gotten what I needed. This is a courtesy rarely extended, however. I did not, for instance, grant it to that tracker when I ripped his throat out. Had he survived he would have had a hellacious scar on his neck, but it would be quite faint, I believe, to the human eye."

Bella's breathing and heart rate began to approach normal and I kissed her for good measure.

"So Rosalie's getting ready for war. And you don't know with who," Bella said, bringing her mind back to the subject matter.

Whom, I mentally corrected. Still, I just nodded.

"Who do you think?" Bella asked.

"I have thought about this, and really the only opponent that makes any sense at all is the Volturi."

I think I need to talk to Rosalie, Bella thought, her mind reeling. This has got to do with the twins, doesn't it? And the wolves, most likely. Do the Volturi know about Carlisle's treaty?

I sighed. "It's not clear to me that the Volturi know about shifters at all, to say nothing about the treaty," I whispered, now close to her ear again. "I have heard something from Carlisle about them hunting down and wiping out - possibly to the point of extinction, but probably not - actual honest to God werewolves, the ones whose transformation is involuntarily controlled by the lunar phases, but there again, that's not exactly good news."

"No." Not good news. So there were real werewolves. I mean, I guess I always think of the pack as werewolves - er, I mean packs. Plural. Packs. Packs of werewolves. But they aren't, huh? So there are real werewolves, or there were. Whoh. That's seriously scary.

I snorted, and Bella looked at me. I whispered sharply. "You are completely unfazed by the existence of vampires and tribal shape-shifters, and you're looking forward to becoming the former, and yet you find the idea of werewolves scary? I do not understand you, Isabella Marie Cullen."

I was ready to be engaged in my ranting, but Bella's mind took a sharp left into completely different territory. My use of her full name had derailed her. Werewolves no longer had her attention.

Isabella Marie Cullen. Swan Cullen. Cullen. Bella Cullen. Bella Cullen, Bella Cullen, Mrs. Bella Cullen... That's a lot of 'l's. Quickly though her mind was back to the topic at hand. Vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters. What else? Are there zombies, too? Do I have to worry about the zombie apocalypse now, too?

I frowned. "Not to my knowledge. I've never encountered any, and I've never heard about it from Carlisle, or the Denalis. But there are fairies. But that's a story for another time."

Bella sighed. "No zombies. That's a relief," she murmured. She was still thinking of my comment from before, though, about what she does fear and what she doesn't, and my incredulity on the subject.

Bella turned to me, her head filled with thoughts of her adoration of me. She snuggled up close to me and her hands shifted first to the back of my neck, then to the back of my head where her fingers clutched at my hair, pulling slightly. I had to stop myself from starting to purr. This would not be the place to do that. She pressed her lips to mine and slipped her tongue into my mouth. My hands were at her sides as we savored this deep delicious kiss. Her thoughts came quickly as we did so.

Of course I'm not afraid of vampires. Why should I be? I mean, sure, I know there are bad ones out there, but there are bad humans out there, too. I'm not afraid of humanity. I'm not afraid of who you are, who your family is - who my family is, and I'm not afraid to change, whenever we decide that is going to be. How on earth could I possibly be afraid of you when you are everything I never knew I always needed?

My heart warmed at her thoughts and I kissed her harder for them. I reacquainted myself with the texture and sweetness of her mouth as my hands maintained a firm hold on the sides of her torso. I let myself be drawn into the infinite lull between one strong heartbeat and the next, focusing on Bella alone; her body, her mind, to the exclusion of all else. Our bodies were responding as if the kiss were foreplay, though, and I had no intention of joining a mile high club today. The scent of Bella's arousal went straight to my head. Difficult as it was, I gently drew the kiss to a close and took the opportunity to pepper her face with tiny kisses... and I will admit, the occasional lick across her cheekbone and jawline. I stayed away from her neck, however. I knew my limits.

Alice and Esme met us at the airport. Honestly, you might have thought from her greeting to Bella that Alice had been gone for years instead of two and a half months. I had carried our two mid-sized packs through customs and carried them still, save for a brief interval when my choice was to drop one or be dropped by Alice and her enthusiastic hug. We were a quiet party out to the car - a rented Land Rover with tinted windows - until Bella asked Alice about her travels, at which point we were all treated to the abridged travelogue from the end of June until the present moment. Alice paused when we pulled up to the outskirts, but Esme offered to run the car back to the hotel we were all booked into so Alice could continue. While Alice continued on, I located the sunscreen, bug spray, and running sling. We walked a little ways into the jungle, enough to be hidden from the road, but quickly it became almost impossible for Bella to navigate, so we left our packs for a moment and returned to the side of the road so she could finish preparing herself.

Bella had eaten an apple in the car for lunch and claimed she wasn't hungry for anything else, but I think it had more to do with her desire to put off the inevitable - having to use a hole in the ground as a toilet. Hopefully this leg of the trip would be quickly gone through. Bella and outdoors living were not concepts that mixed well.

When Esme came back several minutes later, we were all packed up and ready. Alice took Bella's pack and Esme took mine. I secured Bella to my back and we were off, running. In a little over two hours we would be standing in front of the adult child of a vampire father and human mother, an ontological match to the twins. Here's to hoping he'd be less churlish in person once he saw Bella's smiling face.

End Chapter, End Book Two ...onto Book Three...

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