Late Spring, 1936

Thunder Bay, Ontario

Emmett POV

"Pay attention," Edward ordered.

I was paying attention. Judging by the three footsteps, the squeak, and the swish just now, Rosalie had just crossed from our closet to the upper left hand drawer of her dresser, the one that had the really good underwear. And since the swish sounded silky, but not lacey at all, that narrowed it down to the blue and the pink and the white…

"To me, not to Rosalie's knickers," Edward sighed, twisting my necktie hard enough to kill a human. "Now listen. Up through the loop from underneath…" He jammed his fist into my throat again.

"Watch it," I growled, giving him a shove. He stumbled backwards, taking my neck with him. I reluctantly dragged my eyes away from the hallway in order to land a better punch square on his jaw. Of course he dodged it. Pansy.

"How is it that you're twenty-one years old and you've never learned to tie a Windsor?"

"How is it that I haven't broken your nose in almost two weeks?"

"Fine, do it yourself." He shoved me back, headlong toward Esme's full-length mirror. I screeched to a halt with my nose half an inch from the glass. "Now listen." He grabbed another tie out of Carlisle's wardrobe and threw it around his own scrawny neck, stationing himself back beside me in front of the mirror. "Wide end over small end. Then up through the loop underneath," he began again, tying his own noose as he went. This time I copied him perfectly, just to annoy him.

"Don't be so nervous," he chuckled, already heading out the door once I was Windsored. "It's not like she's going to divorce you if you step on her foot."

"Who's nervous?" I muttered, looking back in the mirror and pulling the knot away from my throat again and wiggling in my jacket to try and get another inch out of the sleeves. I looked dumb in brown. "It's only my first date with the most gorgeous woman in the universe."

"Love you, baby," Rosalie purred from our bedroom down the hall, and I heard the swish of silk on marble. Aw, hell… I wondered how long it would take to get out of this necktie.

"Too long," Edward said from downstairs, trilling a scale on his True Love The Piano. "Your reservations are at seven. Get going."

This had been his idea, the traitor. You haven't killed anyone in months, he said. Rosalie's been itching for you to take her out properly, he said. Trust me, I know, he said, doing that idiotic temple-tap thing. I'd been a vampire for six months now, a married man for four. So he was right, I guess: now that I was done accidentally eating the neighbors I really didn't have a decent excuse for not taking my baby out on the town.

I cracked my neck and took one last check in the mirror with my goldish eyes. Hopefully they'd still be that color when we got back home tonight. At least blood didn't show much on a brown jacket; maybe that was why Rose had picked it out. Huh.

I zipped over to our bedroom, but she still had the door locked. Okay, so she wanted to do that down-the-stairs grand entrance thing again. I happily parked myself at the bottom of the staircase, ready to be blown away. The best part was, I always would be.

Always.

"You're going to have a wonderful time," Esme announced with a sparkly smile. She tucked a little flower onto my lapel and a folded hankie into my jacket pocket. I ducked down and pecked her on the cheek.

"I'm ready."

I straightened up just in time to feel my face split with a grin as she floated down the stairs. Rosalie. She was all dolled up in a creamy not-really-white thing, all curls and curves and wisps that wanted to be touched. I watched her come down from Heaven, and then kissed her hand, inside her elbow, her shoulder, up the side of her neck.

"All right, all right," Carlisle chuckled, giving my shoulder a push toward the door. "Have fun, you two." He sounded just a little nervous. Man, I really hoped my eyes were still golden when we got back tonight. My new Dad might only be three years older than me, but I still didn't like to let him down. And I think everyone was getting a little tired of moving.

Carlisle and Esme waved us off from the porch and stayed there while Rosalie drove us off. "I'll drive us one of these days," I offered, trailing a finger along her neckline.

"Mmm," she answered. Was that a "take my clothes off" mmm or a "fat chance, you're never touching my car babies" mmm? Women were so mysterious. You'd think a married man would have cracked the code, but you'd think wrong.

We were in town all too soon. I was taking Rosalie- or I guess she was taking me- to one of those fancy restaurants whose name I couldn't even pronounce. Because obviously that's what vampires do for their first date, right? No, because if there was one thing I knew about my wife it was that she liked to play human, and she liked to do it in style. You couldn't get more stylish-human than a night of fancy dinner and dancing. And I had been at school for a while now, so I was getting to be a pro at making a meal look half-eaten.

"Stay put," I told her, getting out as soon as we parked. I went around and opened her door, earning a quick smile before she stood up and lit up. It was like a miracle; every time we got out of the car in public it happened. She would stand up tall and it was like all those grudges and demons just rolled off her. As soon as I got more confident (and hopefully got permission to touch the car keys) I would take her out every night I could, just to see that.

"You're so beautiful," I sighed.

"So are you," she whispered back, adjusting my tie and brushing her fingers against my jacket before tucking them inside my elbow. I walked her up to the door, standing up straighter after I ducked inside. I took a careful sniff, relieved to find the food stench nicely drowning out the human scent… mostly. There was a family over in the left corner that smelled delicious. You're here to eat, not to drink, I recited nervously. Funny, I seemed to remember thinking that as a human at some point.

Rosalie was murmuring something about our reservation to a human. He led us winding through the tables toward a little nook tucked into the shadows of a bunch of plants.

"Hey," I said, tapping his shoulder. Gently! I shouted to myself as he stumbled forward. At least I didn't think I had broken anything. "We didn't come here to hide under the plants. I mean, look at my girl. Don't you think she should be right in the middle of the dining room where everyone can see her?"

"Of c-course, sir," the man stammered with a fancy accent, his eyes darting anxiously toward Rosalie. "But we're quite full tonight. It would be at least another half hour-"

"Here." I shoved two fifties into his hand. "One for you, one for that wrinkled couple over there if you can get them to move to the plant table." I pointed to a pair of humans that looked like they were going to keel over any second. Even their blood smelled like it was past its expiration date.

I got Rosalie seated at the new table. By the time I sat down she was staring up at me with that sparkly you're-my-hero look in her eyes. I grinned back and scooted my chair in, wincing as I heard the wood creak. Modern furniture had nothing on Esme's antiques for durability.

What were you supposed to talk about in a place like this? Back at home- especially back in our cottage, may it rest in peace- it was all chatter and sex and laughs. Easy as breathing. But here, I was so out of my element it wasn't funny. And the worst part was that Rosalie was in her element. She had been filthy rich as a human, back up in New York. Silks, jewels, limousines… dashing young gentlemen who knew what to say. She had probably eaten at a place like this every week. Whereas I had spent my human years plugging the cracks in our chink-log cabin and shooting my own dinner. Was I sitting right? Did my tie need fixing again?

"Why'd you choose brown?" I blurted out.

"Brown what?"

I flicked my collar. "Brown, for the suit."

She gave me a secret smile, leaning forward without putting her elbows on the table. One of the big curls in her hair tumbled forward, but caught on her shoulder so it didn't fall all the way down. "Because you remind me of a grizzly in brown."

I took my elbows off the table. "And that's a good thing?"

She shrugged delicately, making the curl slide back into place. "So I've heard. Edward says you're going to love grizzly when we finally get far enough out west."

"Mmm, can't wait." Just the thought of hunting bear made our fellow diners smell even better. Probably shouldn't think about that…

We sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes. Finally a waiter came and handed us our menus, babbling quietly about the wines. I opened it and growled under my breath; of course it was written in French. Great.

Rosalie skimmed the first page and then murmured something in French to the waiter. He nodded graciously with a little bow and turned to me, waiting. Um.

"Steak," I said roughly, flinging the menu closed. "And bring it out still mooing." Rosalie frowned slightly. "Your best cut, of course," I added, trying out that snobby whine that Edward preached about music in. It must have worked, because then I got a little nod-bow, too, and he left.

More awkward silence. Well, awkward for me. Rosalie looked right at home, lounging back in her chair like a movie star and gracefully looking around the room, pretending not to eat up the stares she was getting. A pianist had just started to play softly.

"Do we dance now?" I asked.

"After dinner."

"Oh."

I drummed my fingers on the table, wishing I had brought a deck of cards or something. Finally the waiter came back pushing little cart, but it was just a bottle of wine and little plates of salad. We also got a bucket of ice. I didn't know what it was for until he poured the wine and nestled the bottle down into the ice.

"I get it," I said triumphantly, pointing to the bucket. "Instant icebox."

"Of course," the waiter said primly, giving another little bow.

"Other fork," Rosalie murmured behind her hands. I switched forks and heaved a sigh, stirring my salad around. Maybe I should just wear a sign around my neck that said "Don't mind me, I'm just a country bumpkin who's never set foot in a nice restaurant before".

"Are you nervous?" Rosalie asked suddenly. "I mean, you're not…?" She touched her throat worriedly.

"No, that's okay," I said, looking over her shoulder at the Delicious Family. "Got it under control."

"Well, then?"

I hunched over my salad, chopping it into smaller and smaller pieces in slow motion. "I just don't… fit in here, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean," she said, leaning forward so that the curl was teasing me again.

"No you don't. You can speak French and you know which forks to use-"

"So? You could learn French if you wanted to."

"Are you kidding?" I snorted. If only she knew how dumb I really was before! "I mean, I know I could, but it's more like…" I rubbed the back of my neck and the chair creaked dangerously again as I leaned back. "This just isn't my scene, you know? These are your kind of people. Your kind of place." I waved my hand around at the rich humans and the fancy glasses and the exotic plants and the eyes that were fixed on my wife. I felt like I should just get out of the way so they could see her better.

"Not anymore," she said softly, looking around. "Not really. It is nice to dress up and pretend to be a part of things again, but… that's all it is. Pretending."

"Guess I feel like I don't really belong here with you," I muttered to my salad. "Even pretending."

Her hand stretched out to mine. She was smiling with butter-soft eyes, that way I liked where she looked at me like the two of us were the whole world. This was the first time she'd ever given me that smile in public before. "Emmett. You belong everywhere with me." She looked around again. "Yes, this used to be my world… and we probably wouldn't have given each other a second glace back then. But everything's different now. I have you. I chose you."

I sulked another minute, concentrating on the feel of her fingers inside mine. "Yeah. But you still want all this back, right?"

Her smile grew a little naughty. "Is it so wrong to want everything?"

I growled quietly and squeezed her hand, pulling her a little closer. The curl finally tumbled down and I hooked a finger in it, getting my elbows on the table and my sleeve in the salad. "Not when you're you. I want you to have everything I can give you, plus all this."

Her head tilted a little. "And that's why you wanted to come here tonight?"

"Well. The restaurant was Edward's idea. But I'm the one who told him to poke around in your head and figure out an evening that would make you feel like a Rochester princess again."

She stopped breathing and her fingers tightened inside my hand. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes turned from butter back to ice.

Damn it.

I cussed under my breath. "Baby, that's not… you know what I mean, right?" She tried to pull away her hand, and I let her. I knew without looking that she was tucking the fingers of that hand away in the folds of her dress like she always did when she was upset.

"I know," she said, but she still wasn't breathing. "It was really sweet, Emmett. Thank you." Her smile stretched even bigger, but it wasn't that smile anymore. Just like that, I was back on the outside. It was tough- always knowing that at any second she would curl back up behind that plastered, mirror-perfect smile, leaving me out in the cold… but it was what it was.

Carlisle had given me plenty of warning, a couple of days before the wedding. A real man-to-man talk. Women are complicated, he said, and wives are the most complicated of all. How had he said it? "You must never cease in your diligent effort to really know her, Emmett, and that includes learning when to pursue and when to give space." He reminded me that Rosalie had been through a lot of hurt, like Esme had, and that made my job even tougher. Fair enough. But how was I supposed to know when to talk and when to shut up? When to hold her hand tighter, and when to let it go? This was so much easier at home. Every time things got dicey like this, Rose would climb into my arms and put her finger on my lips and let me comfort her the old-fashioned way. Or she'd leave, simple as that. She always came back.

This time, we were stuck. She couldn't just get up and walk out- not without me being stranded, anyhow- and somehow I had a feeling she wasn't about to crawl up onto the table and start shimmying out of her dress. We just sat there, me brushing salad off my sleeve and her smile wearing thinner and thinner. It made me realize how little talking we'd done at all since the wedding. We'd done a good bit of talking up until then, but… well, I guess we'd been a little busy since tying the knot. I knew every glorious square inch of Rosalie Cullen.

But that still wasn't enough. I wanted to know Rosalie Hale, too. I wanted to know the girl behind that mirror-perfect smile, the one I got these fleeting glimpses of before she slipped through my fingers again. She thought she was the one who wanted everything, but she was the everything I wanted. Was it so wrong to want more than what she was giving me? I wanted to crawl inside her mind and look around her memories and her dreams and her hurts- if only so I would know what the hell to do with it all. I wanted to know why she did that thing with her left hand. I wanted to know why she sometimes smoothed her hand down her stomach, getting that sad, distant look when her figure couldn't be any more perfect. I wanted to know every miserable thing that worm Royce had ever said to her, along with complete lists of any other words I shouldn't say, ways I shouldn't look at her, gifts I shouldn't give her. Rochester princess, I grunted to myself, mentally adding it to the don't-say list. Or was she upset because Edward had crawled around in her head to come up with the kind of evening she would want? Or that I had put him up it? Which list did this conversation even belong to? Oh, and where was my list of clues to help me know which mood she was heading toward before I sprang it? The lists wouldn't even be any good because the rules were always changing.

Carlisle had said once how our kind are just as thirsty for knowledge as we are for blood. I didn't really get that, not at first when I was so busy slurping my way through the forest. But I was starting to understand now. I wanted to spend the rest of eternity studying the complicated subject of Rosalie Hale Cullen... if she would just let me.

"Sorry," I offered lamely. I laid my hand open on the table again. It took her a minute, but she finally picked up her other hand- the not-hidden one this time- and put it in mine. I grinned and rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb, and she finally started breathing again. "That's my girl," I whispered, drawing her hand up to kiss her fingertips one by one. I felt like I should say something else, but I couldn't think of anything good. "Truth is," I began, surprised I was saying it out loud, "I'm much better at talking when I don't say anything."

Her hand stiffened a little, but she didn't pull away again. "So am I," she admitted, looking around at the restaurant. "I'm... trying. You know that, don't you?"

I squeezed her hand tighter. "I know. Some things take time." We sat in silence for another while, but it was a little easier this time. The waiter finally came back with the food. My steak smelled surprisingly decent. I copied Rosalie this time, looking bored and keeping my hands in my lap until the waiter was gone. Rosalie wrinkled her nose down at her plate.

"I used to love this," she said, delicately slicing into the mush with her knife and fork. I studied the way she held them, doing my best to copy that too; she was holding them differently from the way she did at school. The steak split open and a little puddle of blood trickled out.

"Emmett," Rose said sharply, and I realized I was leaning in to slurp it up. I sat up and grinned sheepishly, dipping my finger into the blood instead.

"It's not even that good," I sighed, sucking the juice off my finger. "Looks good, though, doesn't it?" A little too good. I peeked at the Delicious Family again. My throat was throbbing hungrily, pulsing in time with their heartbeats. Ugh. They really needed to leave soon.

Rosalie relaxed, fiddling with her dinner some more. "I don't even remember what this stuff inside is called," she sighed.

I flopped my napkin over the bloody steak. "Come on," I announced, pushing back my chair. "Let's dance now."

Rosalie glanced around. "No one else is yet."

"So we'll start it up. Come on, beautiful, let's show these wimpy humans how it's done."

"Ssh!" she giggled, sweeping up out of her seat and following me out onto the little dance floor. I might not know how to hold a fancy fork, but I was pretty good at dancing... now, anyway. I had come a long way since fumbling through Eleazar's crash course right before the wedding. Rose and I danced all the time now, though never before with a roomful of humans watching us... watching her. The sounds of chewing and chatter almost stopped completely once we started to move, swaying gently at first in time with the music. The pianist transitioned into a new song, one that had a bit more swing to it. He was no Edward, but it was good enough. I grinned down at my girl, watching as she came alive in my arms. Maybe food wasn't the best way for her to feel human again, but this was perfect.

It didn't take long for the whispers to start picking up. "Gorgeous... get that dress?... look at those legs!... lucky and he knows it... Gee, why can't I... so perfect together!"

Perfect together. I liked that one. I liked it all, even the whispers that weren't so friendly. Rosalie was a pro at pretending she wasn't hearing a word of it, but I could tell. Her dancing got a little bigger, and the pianist changed songs again to keep up with her. Another couple got up to dance.

"Told you we'd get them going," I said cheerfully, pulling away and spinning her. Her golden hair flung out in a circle, followed by the frills in her dress and an exhilarated smile, and I wanted her. "Let's do that one again," I muttered, spinning her again and this time catching her in my arms. Two more couples got up, but I barely saw them. Rosalie was the whole world, glowing and smiling and surrounding me with her music. I swung her out, staring in brainless wonder at how she could become this much more beautiful. We were full-on jitterbugging now, the piano pounding out enough fun to drown out the heartbeats that had been dividing my attention. She laughed breathlessly, leaning her face into my shoulder as our moves nearly knocked another couple off the dance floor. "Double spin," I whispered in her ear, and I let her go.

She was glorious, her wrists twining up in the air as she spun and spun again. Her hair was a spiral river, shining silk pouring down over my arms as I darted out to catch her in the end. We swung around and the nearest couple backed away laughing uneasily. I dipped her low, so low her feet swept off the floor and she screamed her laughter as I scooped her back up with one hand. The whole restaurant had become our audience now. Their applause lifted her up like a cloud. I felt my heart would bust; I had thought Heaven was back in our cottage, but her laugh here was a whole new Heaven, and we both knew it. You didn't need words for moments like this.

There had to be thirteen couples out now, though it was getting so crowded it was hard to tell. We rocked and switched and dipped again, and then her eyes glinted with mischief and she dipped me. Oh, that did it- half the restaurant was on their feet now, chattering excitedly and rocking in place and clapping. I whooped with joy, twirling down onto my knees and dancing with her there for a second, before jumping up to catch up to her triple step.

We got fancy in the next song, bringing in a little Lindy Hop and Charleston. The crowd drew back then; let's face it, they couldn't handle us anymore. Rosalie didn't seem as happy though; she liked being the center of attention, but she liked being a part of the center even more. "Come on back here!" I roared to the others jovially, and I might have overdone it; they all gasped and jerked back a step, afraid, but then they obeyed quick as a wink, filling the floor up again even if they did cut us a wider berth this time.

"Yeah that's right," I growled in my girl's ear, slipping my hand in through a slit in her dress. I felt up her spine, drunk on her happiness, and suddenly I wished we were alone. She stared up at me, slowing her dancing and saying the same thing with her eyes. My hands drifted up to her face and I kissed her good, the thrumming of the dance floor going on around us and through us with our eyes closed. I had a sudden inspiration.

"Gimme that," I mumbled around her mouth, pawing blindly at her left hand. I slipped her rings off and stashed them in my jacket pocket.

Rosalie frowned, pulling away. "What-"

"Ssh. Secret," I said, capturing her lips again. We soon swung back into dancing, joining the others in applause as the pianist finally stopped to gasp for breath and get himself a drink. Okay, here goes...

"Rosalie Cullen," I called out. My booming voice cut instantly through the chatter. All eyes snapped onto us. Rosalie gave me a look of confused warning, but let me catch both her hands. "I love you," I announced, and sank down onto one knee. Half a dozen girls gasped and squealed on cue, but Rosalie's eyes just grew wider and wider. "I love you so much," I said more softly, now that we had quiet. Now that I was making a complete fool of myself in public, I had never felt braver. "You're my whole world, baby, and I want to dance through the rest of eternity with you." I slipped the engagement ring out of my pocket, careful to leave the wedding band behind. I held up the diamond, realizing with a mental shrug that I was already out of fancy words. "Will you marry me?"

"Always," she breathed, and the crowd went nuts. Girls crying, couples pressing in to congratulate us, the pianist scurrying back to his seat to pound out a wedding march. It was hilarious how dumb the humans were- like that ring hadn't been on her finger three minutes ago! I had scarcely slipped the ring back onto Rose's finger before she had a little throng of girls and older ladies leaning in to coo over it. I gave them a couple minutes.

"All right, all right," I said, finally pushing my way back in to claim her. "Mine," I growled cheerfully, scaring off a Dapper Dan who thought he was going to take my girl for a congratulatory spin on the dance floor. Rosalie fell into my arms, gazing up at me in disbelief.

"I can't believe you just did that," she giggled, shaking her head as we picked up the slow dance that was playing now.

"Me neither," I confessed. "Rose?"

"Mmm?"

I lowered my head to whisper in her ear, feeling shy now. "Did you... did you like that? I mean, I just sort of got this crazy idea and went with it, and I know we got a little wild for such a fancy place-"

"I loved it." Her eyes were sparkling. She was giving me that smile again- we were the whole world together.

I grinned, feeling ten feet tall. "You did? Well maybe I should propose more often, then."

She just laughed, leaning her head on my shoulder as we swayed. That was probably a yes.

I grinned, getting another flash of inspiration- was this what it was like for Edward when he got a song idea and tramped over to his True Love The Piano with his eyes all wide? "Maybe we should get married more often."

She stopped swaying. "Wait, what?"

I shrugged. "Why not?" Anything to make this Heaven for her again and again. For us.

"Well..." she sighed, but she couldn't help but smile through it. "I mean, we're already pushing it here... you know we're not supposed to attract attention, and you being so new..."

"So? We'll go do it somewhere else. We'll use fake names and the whole shebang." I leaned in to whisper. "We could do it like this- pull the whole thing on an unsuspecting crowd, you know? We could go to Vegas or something... we'll invite the whole dance floor along for fun and drive off and never see them again."

She giggled again, shaking her head. "You're crazy sometimes."

"Only crazy for you."

Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around and looked down to see the waiter. He looked a little flustered. "Our manager sends his congratulations," he announced, waving toward our table which now held a little white cake. "And everything is on the house tonight."

We thanked him and he shyly gushed over Rosalie in French for a minute. She nearly gave him a heart attack, leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. But then I spotted a shabbily-dressed man making a beeline for us, pencil and notepad in hand. He was followed by another man with a big camera. Reporters... that was pushing it a little too far, unless I wanted a lecture from Edward and Carlisle when we got home.

"Time to go," I hissed in Rosalie's ear, and we ducked through the crowd.

We made a night of it. We found a jazz club downtown where the dinner tables were already pushed out of the way and we did the whole thing again. This time the swirl of faces around us was black and white, and I proposed again. We danced half the night away and then found another little hole-in-the-wall club where everyone was younger and poorer. There was a five-piece improv jazz band there, playing and arguing their way through new styles. But once we got to dancing they couldn't be happier to keep up with us until the sky outside started to lighten. Both Rosalie's heels broke off and I made a show of carrying her out, serenaded by wolf whistles and another wedding march.

We finally got back to our car at the first restaurant, just in time to escape the sunrise. We talked the whole way home, laughing over our pranks and chatting up this crazy plan in which we would go to Vegas and try my wedding idea.

"Let's go to our cottage tonight," Rosalie said suddenly, slamming on the brakes halfway down our driveway.

"Today, you mean," I said lazily. "And if you remember, we broke the cottage last week."

"It's not that broken," she protested. "And besides, most of my clothes are still back there." She lifted a torn flap of her dress.

"We wouldn't want Edward to be scandalized," I agreed solemnly. We only stopped at the main house long enough to park the car, and then we took our time dawdling down the path we had cut to the cottage. We had quieted down now, and reality started to hit with the daylight. "I was kidding about Vegas," I assured her. "If we do it we'll go somewhere nice-"

"No," she said dreamily, tangling her fingers in mine and swinging our hands as we walked. "Let's do this one your way. Tonight was amazing, Emmett. You made it amazing." I scooped her up suddenly, spinning around in circles as her shriek carried through the trees. The sun broke through the trees then, making my angel shine as she laughed.

She was beautiful, this girl in my arms. She was all the more beautiful now for her undignified laughter, for her tangled hair... for letting a little of her brokenness shine through. She thought she had to hide that best part of herself, but it was what I wanted most. I loved every bit of my girl, from the mirror down to the horror. This whole thing had started with her being my hero, and damned if I wasn't going to spend the rest of eternity trying to be hers.