*EPOV*

As soon as Phil and Renee's SUV pulled out of sight, I dropped the luggage carelessly at my feet and turned to cup my hands around Bella's shoulders, holding her at arm's length so I could look at her.

Her face was impassive. "Please tell me what you're thinking," I said as softly as I thought she'd be able to hear in the busy airport terminal.

"I think...Charlie is moving on in his own little family. And Renee and Phil are moving on with their little family, and there's no reason why I shouldn't do the same.

"And I'm also thinking that I really need a human moment, so can we talk about this later?" She said, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Of course. The ladies room is right over there. I'll get us checked in." Bella turned on her heel and speed-walked for the bathroom.

I frowned after her, plagued by the irrational thought that if she was going to bolt through a second exit in the bathroom, now would be the perfect opportunity. I shook my head and grit my teeth. Stop doubting her.

I went to the first-class ticket counter, checked the luggage, and received our boarding passes without any issue.

Done with that, I returned to stand just outside the restrooms to wait for Bella. Over the next few minutes, women went in, and women came out, but no Bella.

Anxiety started to seep into the corners of my consciousness. My toe tapped a little too fast against the shiny, recently waxed epoxy floor beneath my feet.

How long was an acceptable amount of time to wait before I used my gift to invade her privacy and that of dozens of other women? If she did run, what exactly was I going to do about it? I'd already promised her that if she wanted to leave me I wouldn't stand in her way. But did that mean I would just give up without a fight? Let her go without another word? What if there was some other explanation? She could have slipped on a wet floor and hit her head, or gotten sick, or maybe Jacob Black was hiding in a janitor's closet waiting to steal her away from me. Why the hell not? That wouldn't even make the list of the top ten unlikeliest things to have happened over the last twenty-four months.

"All set," Bella said cheerily as she came into view, wiping her damp hands on the front of her jeans and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. I stared at her like she was an apparition.

"What? Is there toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something?" Bella asked, looking over herself self-consciously.

"I'm just…" What were the words she'd used? "Freaking out a little bit."

Concern washed over her features and she pulled me down next to her into an empty row of chairs in a relatively quiet corner of the terminal near a bank of payphones. She said nothing, just patiently waited for me to speak.

"I don't want you to get upset with me for thinking I'm doubting you. I'm not. It's just.." I reached up to cup the side of her exquisite heart-shaped face. "The closer I get to keeping you, the more anxious I get that you are somehow going to slip through my fingers.

"I just had a heart attack over there thinking you gave me the slip out a back door. Or that Jacob Black was lying in wait to take you from me..."

Seeing the look on her face, I rushed to explain. "It's completely irrational, I know. But sometimes I can't seem to stop the intrusive thoughts, and they make me a little crazy," I admitted with a hard-edged laugh.

Bella's eyes softened and she nodded her head. "I understand that better than you think. It's really kind of a bummer that immortality cures everything except anxiety," she said with a wry smile.

"Hey, I have an idea," she added as an afterthought. "Why don't we get on the plane so you can bite me already and then we never have to worry about anything more pressing than running out of sexual positions to try."

I snorted. "That won't take long at the rate we're going." She held her hand out to me palm up. I took it, lacing my fingers between hers, and together we embarked on the first leg of our journey to Alaska.

*BPOV*

I had to keep from laughing so that Edward didn't browbeat me into telling him that an upset stomach (courtesy of Phil's breakfast chili) is what had him jumping to all kinds of crazy conclusions.

Holy crow, I would not miss having a digestive system. Or Phil's breakfast chili come to think of it.

In a weird turn, we had traded places with the people we had been flying home from Italy.

It was like he was the one who couldn't quite believe what was happening and didn't want to take his eyes off me for fear of my disappearing.

For the sake of Edward's sanity, I didn't stray far from his side for the remainder of our journey and opted to use the airplane lavatories rather than the ones in the airports.

I probably should've felt a little put out by his nerves. I mean, I was the one who just hugged my family goodbye forever and he was the one going to pieces?

That's what my sisters would be saying if they were here now, anyway, followed by snarky commentary about men being the weaker sex.

But some part of me knew that I would miss this side of him when he didn't need to worry about me anymore. My overprotective, over-anxious guardian angel who comes to my rescue whenever I'm stalked by vampires, predatory humans, or just bested by gravity.

It might've been misguided or "internalized misogyny," or whatever, but the brooding, the anxiety...even the controllingness and jealousy were constant reminders that he loved me, and it was hard to see the downside in that.

Those pieces of him seemed so sewn into his personality that I wasn't sure if I could imagine what it would even look like for him to love me without being a little overbearing about it. And if I was honest, I wasn't sure I wanted him to.

"You're worrying about something," he murmured into my ear as I stared out the window of my first-class seat cruising some 30,000 feet above the lush green topography of coastal British Columbia.

My brow furrowed, unsure of how to explain without sounding like a terrible person.

It was easier to keep looking out the window as I admitted, "I guess I'm just wondering what it will look like afterward when I'm yours forever and you don't need to worry about me anymore or get jealous…"

Edward chuckled softly. "I can only guess how much you must be looking forward to that."

I opened my mouth to correct him, but he wasn't finished.

"Bella, I hate to disappoint you, but there will never come a day when I don't worry about you. I'll just worry about different things.

"And as long as there are other people in the world who think about you and imagine taking what's mine," he growled the word, "I'm afraid my caveman-like tendencies are here to stay. If you didn't want a jealous man...perhaps you shouldn't have married a mind reader," he uttered with a rueful, lopsided smile.

I rolled my eyes. "As usual, you have it backwards. I was thinking how much I'd miss certain things if I thought you'd never do them again."

Edward raised his hand to cradle my face, his thumb lightly brushing over the pinkened apple of my cheek. "I understand that better than you think."

Damn his smoldering eyes and perfect face.

Edward and I hadn't made love in days since it was just too weird for me being at my mom's house, and Edward really didn't want to break any of their furniture.

That didn't mean we didn't skirt the line, though. On Christmas Eve, I'd gone to bed with a full belly and an even fuller cup from a day spent around family. It was the kind of day that made you feel warm all over.

As I was snuggled up against him, near sleep, I felt his wintry fingers slide under the hem of my nightshirt making me startle.

"Just because I don't want to break the furniture doesn't mean you have to suffer," he had purred into my ear.

"But my parents-"

"Are sound asleep. Your mom takes Unisom to help with the morning sickness and it knocks her right out. Phil is a lighter sleeper though. You'll have to be very quiet," his voice was barely a whisper as his hand crept ever closer to the apex of my thighs.

I never wore underwear to bed and he hummed in approval at the easy access. My breaths came in shallow gasps as I felt his fingertips ghost over my heated flesh.

"But if you'd rather sleep…" he teased, pulling his hand away.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," I growled, catching his hand and tugging it back toward my throbbing need. I was the one biting the pillows that night.

"Bella?" Edward asked in real-time, bringing me back to the present.

I tried to discipline my thoughts. It made no good to get myself all hot and bothered when we wouldn't be alone for some time yet. Unless...

I knew if I suggested it to him at our seats the answer would be an outright 'no.' But if I could somehow get him into the bathroom with me….

As a plan came together in my head, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Maybe it was time for Edward to get a taste of his own medicine.

"Sorry, spaced out there for a sec," I smiled innocently." Edward didn't look entirely convinced.

"I sure won't miss my bladder," I muttered, unfastening my seatbelt and heading for the first-class lavatory that wasn't more than a few yards away.

If this had been an economy-class lavatory, I never would have attempted it. But since it was built larger for comfort as well as handicap accessibility, I whispered the words I knew would make him come. "Edward, I need you."

A soft knock on the door a scant second later, "Bella? Are you alright?"

I cracked open the door as narrowly as could be managed and pulled him inside the narrow stall by the front of his shirt

"I am now," I breathed, throwing my arms around his shoulders and smashing my lips into his.

He was quick to kiss me back but just as quick to push me away. "Bella, are you trying to take this plane down?" Edward hissed. "That's what will happen if I put my hand through the wall."

Undeterred, I kissed him again while my fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. I got through two of them before the cold iron fetters of his hands wrapped around my wrists, restraining me. "Then I guess you better be still," I murmured, only more turned on by his display of dominance.

"Bella...an airplane bathroom isn't very romantic," his tone was disapproving, but not quite as resolute as he'd been a moment ago. I must be getting to him, I thought.

"Edward, it doesn't always have to be romantic. Sometimes it just has to be now," I said in an urgent whisper. "Please?" I pouted, using my most persuasive voice.

Edward's face was torn. I could tell he wanted to say no, but in our cramped confines, I could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed up against me. I used that to my advantage.

While his hands were still holding my wrists, I hooked one leg around him and ground my hips into his. He groaned at the contact.

I put my foot back down on the ground and looked up at him through my eyelashes, making my best attempt to dazzle him. "If you'd rather go back to your seat and watch the in-flight production of 'Night at the Museum," I glanced at the door.

"You're a monster," he growled, dropping his hold on my wrists so he could instead take my face in his hands and kiss me hard on the mouth. I smiled victoriously against the glassy smoothness of his lips.

"You're going to want to be quiet," I warned with a wide, seductive smile, undoing his belt.

"I don't have a condom," he cautioned in a whisper as his pants and boxer briefs pooled around his ankles. His straining erection was pressed up against the tight-fitting t-shirt that he wore under his open button-up.

"Well, then I guess it's convenient that you're changing me tomorrow," I rolled my eyes and quickly kicked off my Toms and jeans.

Something about saying that out loud seemed to ignite something in us both. Edward's lips on my skin had a new sense of urgency.

When his lips clamped over the pulse point on my throat, he moaned and sucked a little harder than I was used to. I gasped at the sensation. It hadn't hurt, not really, but I was certain he'd left a mark, or more accurately, a target.

The thought of that made me ravenous with need for him. I clasped my hands behind his neck and threw my legs around him with a little hop. He caught me like I knew he would, supporting me with one arm wrapped around my hips while his other hand reached between my legs, dragging the moisture from my entrance up around my swollen bundle of nerves.

I threw my head back and pinched my mouth shut to keep my answering moan from escaping.

"So wet for me," he murmured so softly that I don't know if I was meant to hear it.

He raised me up a few inches so that I was poised over him. I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt his cold hardness press into my heat.

"Are you alright?" he asked, holding still with obvious strain, golden eyes boring into mine.

I nodded frantically and bounced a little in his arms wanting more of him.

Using nothing but the arm supporting my hips to control my agonizingly slow descent, he lowered me all the way down onto his cool granite length until the softness of my core was pressed up against the thatch of coarse bronze hair at his base. I let out a near-silent sob of pleasure as he filled me so completely.

My breaths came in short stabs as he thrust into me over and over again. His free hand was trapped between our bodies near where we were joined. His thumb rubbed circles over my nerve center in perfect rhythm with his thrusting.

"Bella," he panted, "You feel too good. I'm not going to last," he warned.

"Me neither," was the only thing I had time to say before I could feel my muscles tighten down around him.

I leaned forward and sunk my teeth into his shoulder right through his shirt as I came apart, knowing that a) he liked it, and b) I wouldn't be able to keep quiet any other way.

Edward ripped his hand out from between us and braced it against the wall.

I urged him with a tug of my hand to put that arm around me, too.

"Bella..." his tone warned.

"You won't hurt me," I whispered. In a husky voice now, "It's just like playing the piano when my mouth is wrapped around you," I said kissing the shell of his ear. Edward groaned and quivered at the memory.

"Play me my lullaby. No mistakes."

Eyes screwed shut in concentration, he nodded. Edward hummed softly in his beautiful angel's voice as his body curled into me with deep, smooth strokes.

I felt the pads of his fingertips moving against imaginary keys on my skin, one hand on the fleshy cheek of my bottom, the other splayed in between my shoulder blades.

I threw my head back and pressed my hips eagerly against his as our bodies collided. Then his jaw clenched shut and I could feel his entire body tense and shake, straining for control, as he came inside me with a visceral growl.

And then he withdrew from me with disorienting speed and set me down on wobbly legs. A second later, he was dressed and then dragging my jeans up my legs and over my hips like he was dressing a toddler, but at vampire speed.

"Quick, pretend to be sick," he hissed. "The stewardess is coming to check on us."

I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet and made retching sounds into the stainless steel commode. My sweaty face and messed-up hair made me look all the more convincing.

Before the flight attendant could even knock, Edward managed to stick his head out the door and flag her down. He dutifully held my hair as he politely asked the woman for a cool washcloth and some ginger ale.

"Yes, sir, of course. I'll be right back with that." Once she was gone, he closed the door with a soft snick.

I saw my panties wadded up on the floor behind the door and reached for them, but Edward beat me to them. "These are mine now," he said simply, shoving them into his pocket, daring me with his eyes to argue.

Before I could respond, a shrill beep over the intercom preceded the message, "May I have your attention, please. At this time we are asking that all passengers return to their seats and fasten their seatbelts as the Captain begins our descent into Juneau. Thank you for choosing Alaska Airlines for your travel needs. We hope to see you aboard again soon!"

"You go first. I'll be right behind you." I needed to clean myself up, especially if the thief was stealing my panties.

When I returned to my seat, the ginger ale and washcloth were waiting at my seat, along with some saltine crackers and a stack of extra sick bags.

"The stewardess feels dreadful about the assumptions she made about the young couple banging around in the lavatory," Edward smirked.

I smiled a little guiltily. In this one instance it was a little funny, and for the most part harmless, but I would never take pleasure in gaslighting anyone knowing firsthand how damaging it was to make a person doubt their instincts.

"By the way, " I snorted, "Pan Am called, they want their lingo back. Nobody has called them stewardesses in about 40 years."

"If you think 'stewardess' is un-PC, you should've heard Jasper's mouth when we first met him in the fifties," he made a scandalized expression.

My eyes widened in horror. I could only imagine the things a Major in the Confederate army would have to say during the Civil Rights movement.

Edward's face fell and he looked ashamed. "He's had a long time to see the error of his ways," he added, pleading with his eyes for understanding. I could tell he felt bad about making me think ill of his brother.

I frowned. "I guess it would be unrealistic to expect somebody...from that time...to easily accept a brand new set of societal norms than the ones in which he was raised," I allowed. Edward nodded sagely.

After all, progressivism was something plenty of humans still struggled with. If they didn't, no one would continue to wax poetic about 'The good old days,' back when water fountains were segregated and women knew their place.

Living in a small, aging town like Forks, populated by a lot of old, white men—loggers down on their luck after a younger generation decided to care about the fate of the Spotted Owl—you heard the muttered comments all the time.

"No significant change has ever happened overnight, of course," Edward mused. "But as an old man less than half of Jasper's age, I will admit that sometimes this world feels like a mighty stranger."

I turned that over in my head for a while. Edward lived in a time before women could vote or had any rights at all. Women were considered the chattel of their husbands, like a plot of land or a prized cow.

"Don't tell me you'd rather I wore long skirts and kept my opinions to myself," I gave him a dark look.

I could tolerate his cavemanishness from time to time if I thought it was because his deep love for me made him act possessively on occasion. I was guilty of that, too. But if it was because he thought he had some kind of actual ownership over me...well that was another issue entirely.

Edward gave me a withering look. "Oh, please," his voice was full of derision. "When have I ever wanted you to keep anything to yourself? Especially those gorgeous legs?" He gave my thigh a little squeeze and teasingly jostled my leg.

I could think of a time, but I wasn't about to bring up my foolishness the time I'd taken him to the Cheesecake Factory wearing a micro mini dress.

Edward, seeing right through my blush, scowled, "That's different."

I held my hands up a little guiltily and giggled, "Hey, I wasn't going to bring that up."

As the cars and trees on the ground gradually became larger and larger through the thick double-pane plexiglass window, I could feel the altitude changing. I grimaced as my ears crackle and popped painfully through the landing.

*EPOV*

Seeing the look of discomfort on Bella's face, I reached into my pocket and triumphantly produced a pack of gum. I remembered how uncomfortable she'd been on previous flights, and this time I was prepared.

A little 'v' formed between her brows as she registered the pack of spearmint Trident in my hand and then appeared mortified.

"Sorry, I must smell terrible after 14-hours on a plane," she blushed furiously and covered her mouth with her hand.

I rolled my eyes. "It's for your ears, silly girl. It's supposed to help."

The expression on her face morphed from embarrassed to grateful to endeared. It was the same look she always gave me when I remembered something like that. Ridiculous woman. As if any detail about her could be trivial or unworthy of remembering.

We bobbed in our seats as the plane's landing gear finally struck the ground. Bella's grip on my hand would've been painful if I'd been human.

She'd never been a fan of takeoffs or landings, and maybe it was my imagination, but this landing seemed different, worse somehow.

As we touched down in Alaska, on the home stretch of our journey, a journey that started long before leaving Jacksonville, I smoothed out Bella's fingers. She'd be unhappy if she broke a fingernail that would never have a chance to grow back.

Later, once I'd collected our luggage from baggage claim, I returned to where I'd left her sitting exhausted and staring off into space on a nearby bench.

It was 6 pm local time, but her internal clock was still on Florida time, four hours ahead.

"I know you're probably exhausted, but you might want to think about what you'd like to eat for dinner. I'm not sure what the options will be like once we get to the island." I cringed slightly, unsure of a more tactful way of asking what she'd like to eat for her last meal.

Bella, of course, immediately saw through my pretenses. Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Pie," she said almost immediately.

"You want pie?" I asked, unsure if I'd heard her correctly, though, of course I had.

"I saw it in a movie once. A group of friends were traveling across the country and stopped at a diner and they ordered two slices each of every kind of pie on the menu. Dozens of them. And I always said someday I'd do that."

I grinned widely. "Then tonight, you shall have pie."

It was an easy enough request to accommodate. Juneau had plenty of diners, and most of them had pie.

After a quick search on Bella's iPhone, I directed a taxi driver to take us to a restaurant called Donna's that apparently had the widest selection. He was thrilled when I told him to wait in the parking lot with the meter running.

It was exactly the type of place that you'd expect from a greasy spoon called Donna's.

The wallpaper was dated, the vinyl-covered bar stools lined up under the Formica counter were patched with duct tape. The waitress was tired, and all the patrons looked as old and weathered as everything else.

It was seat-yourself seating. I led Bella to a booth near the back, not that it really mattered. Even for a Saturday evening, and with a dozen or so other patrons in the dining room, the restaurant was dead quiet.

The loudest thing in the room was the 6'oclock news blaring on the TV mounted to the wall above the neither of us paid any attention to it because the outside world couldn't have mattered any less than it did to the two of us in that moment.

"That's alright," Bella refused the menus that were offered to us. "I already know what I want. One slice of every pie you have, please. And a glass of milk."

The waitress looked gobsmacked. "That's fourteen slices of pie!"

"You're right. What was I thinking?" Bella rolled her eyes and folded her hands in front of her on the table. "Better make it a la mode."

"Well, June," I smiled invitingly to the waitress who was still gaping at Bella. "You heard the lady."

A few minutes later, June covered our table in a mosaic of pie wedges. She named each of the slices as she set them down in front of us.

"Dutch apple. Banana cream. Coconut cream. Chocolate Silk. Cherry. Peanut Butter. Lemon Meringue. Custard. Pecan. Pumpkin. Strawberry Rhubarb. Key Lime. Peach, and our house specialty Donna's famous blackberry pie."

Bella looked like...well, she looked like someone just gave her fourteen pieces of pie. Her eyes were as big as the dessert plates in front of her. She looked so darn cute with all that pie, like a childhood dream had finally been realized, that I had to snap a picture of her.

She made quite a few friends too, curious diners and a couple of small children who came over to marvel at the out-of-towner who was eating her weight in pie. Somebody from the local paper even took her picture. I'd be sure to track down a copy (and buy out the newsstand) once it ran in the paper.

They all walked away with Bella's rejects, not minding in the least that she'd taken a nibble or two from each slice. I noted with interest that she didn't care for key lime or cherry, but she practically licked the plate clean of coconut cream.

"Stuffed full of pie. What a way to go," she said almost drunkenly as she patted her belly and pushed away a half-eaten slice. "Alright. I'm ready. Take me away," she said, sounding very much like the most pleased death row inmate ever about to meet her fate.

After tipping June generously, we took the waiting taxi to a tiny airstrip where we boarded a floatplane, and less than an hour later, landed in Angoon where the small community of locals resided.

Emmett was waiting in the nearby harbor in one of our newly acquired speedboats to shuttle us to the other side of the island since it wasn't really feasible for me to run with Bella on my back and suitcases in both hands. I helped Bella down into the passenger seat next to Emmett and took the middle seat behind them.

"Glad you two finally made it! But I gotta tell ya, Squirt, your timing really sucks. Did you have to choose the beginning of hibernation season for The Big Bite? The bears won't even be awake for another two months," he pouted.

"Aww, sorry, Em. But that's kind of a good thing, isn't it? That means when they wake up, they'll be extra irritated when you teach me to hunt them, right?" she flashed a wide, placating smile and he thawed right out.

"Damn right," Emmett nodded, all dimples. He took his eyes off the inky black water and appraised Bella.

"You don't look very afraid for someone who's about to turn into a vampire. Edward told you about the burning part, right?" he smirked, ignoring my snarl.

Bella laughed. "I can't wait to kick your ass in three days. It's like #3 on my to-do list," she bit back with a half-grin.

"Only number three?" Emmett ribbed.

"Well I'm probably going to want to hunt, and I'm definitely going to want to have some tree-smashing vampire sex with Edward," she said unashamedly looking straight at me with the moonlight in her hair and a gleam in her eye ."So yeah, three."

If there were bears (or anyone for that matter) sleeping on the island, they weren't any longer. Emmett's roaring laugh seemed to echo off of the clear night sky.

I felt many things all at once sitting in the back of the boat that night. I felt the joy and pride I always felt whenever I watched how seamlessly Bella fit in with my family. Not just fit in...Bella completed our family in the same way that she completed me.

I also was surprised that the small watercraft withstood the inflated weight of my ego after Bella's bawdy comment about tree-smashing vampire sex. Particularly that she directed it to the brother that teased me most mercilessly about my inexperience in that avenue.

Emmett had been right. Bella didn't look looked at peace. Not like somebody who was about to lose her life or be transformed into a monster, but somebody who was simply...going home.

*A/N* You know what has been surprisingly difficult about writing this fic? That it took place in 2006 and the world has changed so dramatically since then! For example, there was no Uber in 2006. I even had to retcon Bella's iPhone to be a prototype since they weren't even available to the public until 2007 (whoops). A fic set in 2006 is turning out to be quite the period piece and that makes me feel sooo old. (Just in time for my bday tomorrow!) I feel ya, Edward. Who can keep up?

Also! Hurray! We made it to Admiralty Island. And Emmett's frustration about bear hibernation was very much mine when I realized they won't get to hunt bears until March. 😒 I blame the author's poor planning. Next time…The Big Bite! 👄

As always, thank you SO much for your reviews. They seriously motivate me to write faster, so if you're itching for the next one, help me help you and drop me a line! 😀