AN: I know this chapter is somewhat short, but it's kind of building up to some action. Thanks again to those of you who have reviewed, or added this story to your alert/favorite list! You guys have me checking my e-mail every five minutes, lol. Y'all are great.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It was sunset, and Edward had courteously remembered my still-functioning digestive system. He drove me to the Marrakesh Express for take-out, which we brought back to his still-empty mansion.

I hopped onto one of the stools at the island in the Cullen kitchen, opening my boxes of take-out with a look of bliss on my face. If Edward ever bit me, there would be few things I would miss more than food.

"Let's watch a movie," I suggested, struggling in vain to trap a few slippery noodles between my chopsticks.

Edward smirked and handed me a fork, which I accepted with resignation, going back to twist the noodles around my fork Italian-style. "I've got just the thing," he said, and back down to the basement we went.

'Just the thing' ended up being Blade, which Edward described as his favorite vampire movie ever, though I caught a hint of sarcasm as he continued, "No contest. Although Dracula 2000 and Queen of the Damned come in at a close second."

"I can't wait," I told him, sucking a noodle into my mouth. "Sounds really appetizing."

"Depends on what you like to eat," Edward replied cheekily. I laughed, realizing it was the first time he'd really poked fun at his 'condition.' I was proud of him. It was good that he was learning not to take himself so seriously.

Edward put the DVD in the player and came to sit next to me on the couch, pulling me close and catching my earlobe between his teeth. My breath caught in my lungs, but I kept still, in fear of provoking him and ending our evening altogether. The previews began, but I couldn't seem to focus my vision as his lips brushed over my cheek, his tongue darting out to trace the corner of my mouth and then slide over my bottom lip with a laziness that infuriated me.

Still, I did not reach for him. I did not tangle my fingers in his hair and pull him down on top of me, as I so desperately wanted to. My skin ached for his touch, but the actual touching was far more painful. His fingers danced lightly over my arms, disturbing the tiny hairs and causing me to tremble against him. His mouth moved away from mine then, only to caress the shell of my ear with his lips as he fisted his hands in my hair.

I would explode if I could not touch him. I was filled with a scream that I couldn't release, and it clenched at my insides. I had to…I couldn't…

He pulled back suddenly and gave me a little shake, as if I'd been napping on his shoulder. "Oh, Bella, it's starting."

Men. It appeared that not even vampirism could defeat a man's instinctual love for the television.

I supressed the overpowering urge to cause him serious physical pain, knowing he would only laugh at me for trying. Instead, I gave a sigh that couldn't be mistaken for anything but exasperation, and turned my attention to the movie. As if I had any other choice.

The opening scene involved a vampire nightclub, hidden in some sort of meat-packing warehouse. At one point, blood spewed over the gyrating bodies from the emergency sprinklers on the ceiling, drawing a bark of laughter from Edward. "Now that would be a great place for a date," he commented cheerfully, giving me a roguish grin that heated my face.

"No, thanks," I declined, playing along. "I'm not really big on the whole nightclub scene."

Edward sighed, weaving his fingers into mine. "Pity."

Upstairs, the front door opened and closed with a thud. "Someone's home," I said, somewhat unnecessarily.

Edward's brow furrowed, and he flipped the TV off. "It's Emmett," he said, sounding a little surprised. "Things did not go well."

"Anybody home?" came Emmett's voice from upstairs.

"Down here," called Edward, his expression unreadable. Emmett had news, and Edward clearly already knew what they were.

"I found her," said Emmett as he thundered down the stairs. He stepped into the basement. Spotting me, he stopped. "Oh. Hi, Bella."

"It's all right. I've told her what happened."

That was all the permission Emmett needed to plunge in. "I found her in Bremerton. She's mad as hell, Edward. I don't think she even remembers why. She was in such a rage, I tried to calm her down, but –"

"I know all this," interrupted Edward, his jaw flexing angrily at whatever Emmett had not said yet.

"I don't," I protested, stepping forward. "What's happening?"

"She means to kill you, Bella," Edward revealed, his voice flat and matter-of-fact.

My noodle dinner suddenly became lead in my stomach, and my limbs felt weak, as if I'd just stepped off a particularly violent roller coaster. I found myself wondering how it had come to this.

Emmett scratched the nape of his neck, looking like he was trying to look calm. "Well, I was going to leave that part out, but it's true. She told me she can't come home until Bella's dead. I've never…I've never seen her like this," Emmett paused to swallow as his voice faltered. "What's worse is that it really has nothing to do with you loving Bella anymore. To her, the fact that we all care about Bella is as if we've rejected Rosalie as a member of our family. It's a betrayal she will never – can never – forgive. There's no reasoning with her."

I still sensed that there was something unsaid as Edward continued to watch Emmett with quiet fury.

"And if it comes to it, you will side with Rosalie," Edward finally spoke, cutting to the quick. "You told her so, and you meant it."

Emmett winced at Edward's accusatory glare. The larger vampire looked crushed, defeated, as his eyes pleaded with Edward for empathy. "She's my wife, Edward. I would never harm Bella, but if the rest of you decide that Rosalie should die, I'll have to be in little pieces before before I let you," said Emmett, his voice calm but harsh. "She's my wife, Edward," he repeated desperately. "I love her."

After a long, painful pause, Edward nodded gravely. "I know that, Emmett, and I would never ask you to betray her. I love her, too, come to that, and I damn sure don't want her to die."

"She's too angry," sighed Emmett, shaking his head. "She's not in control of it anymore. It's controlling her."

Edward nodded and took my hand. "As you have witnessed yourself, we tend to experience emotions far more intensely than a human being might. It is easy to get lost in it, if you aren't careful. Rosalie has not been careful," Edward explained, squeezing my hand gently.

I gave a shuddery breath. "If you kill Rosalie because of me, I'll never forgive myself. I'll die before I watch you murder a member of your family in my defense," I told Edward vehemently, sick with the image of the Cullens ripping Rosalie limb from limb. I shook my head violently to clear it.

"Don't say that," Edward hissed, forcing me to look at him. "Nobody is dying. I'm calling Carlisle, and we'll sort this out. I know there's some part of Rosalie that will still listen to reason."

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Carlisle's number as Emmett and I looked on, somewhat helplessly.

"It's Edward. I need you to come home," Edward spoke into the phone, his face stony. Carlisle said something back, and Edward shook his head. "I wouldn't call you if it wasn't an emergency. Please, there might not be much time – thank you. Okay. Okay. Bye."

Without looking up, Edward dialed another number, presumably Esme's, or perhaps Alice's. Both calls went straight to voicemail.

"Dammit," Edward whispered, dialing one last number and mumbling, "Come on, Jasper, you jackass. Pick up."

He did. "Jasper, It's Edward. Are you with the girls?" A pause. "I need all of you home, now." Another pause. "Godammit, Jasper, an hour? No, I know. Just get here as fast as you can."

He hung up to phone, looking back at Emmett and me. "The cavalry has been called in," he joked grimly, putting the phone on the coffee table. Emmett sighed, rubbing his hands together restlessly.

"Maybe I should take Bella somewhere safe," he suggested, looking around as if he expected to see a fallout shelter hidden somewhere in his basement.

"She's safest here," insisted Edward. "I can defend her better here."

Neither Emmett or I made any further argument, and we were all silent for several moments. There was a question that hadn't been asked, and I didn't want to be the one to ask it. I didn't want to know. I wanted to escape, I wanted to hide, to do anything but sit and wait for Carlisle – or Rosalie. Whoever got here first.

I leaned against Edward, squeezing his hand and whispering his name encouringly. He had to ask. We had to know.

Edward understood what I wanted, and he squeezed back, giving me a short nod. He looked at Emmett, his eyes full of vicious golden fire. "When is she coming?"

Emmett sighed, his body tensing a little. "She was right behind me. Twenty minutes, with any luck."

Edward nodded and pressed his thumbs against his eyes rubbing them hard and shaking his head. "Dammit," he murmured, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Goddammit, Rosalie."