What? A new Twilight fanfiction ten years later? Yes, hi! And this one is not AH but rather a vamp-filled AU. Basically, after reading Midnight Sun last year, I had some thoughts. What if Edward and Bella hadn't reunited in New Moon? What would their relationship look like if Bella were an adult? Would she still be as into Edward as an adult woman (I mean… who wouldn't, right?)? How might their love differ if Bella was wiser, more confident, more experienced? The more I thought about it, the more this fic wanted to be written so… here it is. Enjoy! I know there aren't so many readers out there anymore, but if you have any thoughts or predictions or just want to say hi, please leave a review or send a PM, I'd love to hear from you.

Just an FYI this is not a story about Bella got pregnant before Edward left, nor has Bella been turned into a vampire in the Cullens' absence. It's just… Bella got older. Like the rest of us! I really hope you like it :)

Much love, Steph

Disclaimer: I don't own the wonderful world of Twilight or these beloved characters. I simply play around with them when my own characters are being difficult.

"Time isn't the most important thing. It is The Only Thing." – Miles Davis

Chapter 1 – The Morning That Everything Changed

Bella POV

As usual, I was the second person on campus at Two Harbors High School on the morning that everything changed. The beaten-up old Ford that was the only inhabitant of the school parking lot belonged to the janitor, Pete, and he saluted me warily as I crossed him in the eerily empty corridor, his frown unchanging under his thick moustache. Pete wasn't a people person, and that was fine.

I smiled to myself as I flicked on the lights in my classroom. This room was my pride and joy, my sanctuary and my stage, and I liked to think that it became all of those things to every student that stepped inside it as well. That morning I found a stack of papers on my desk advertising an upcoming writing competition and a couple of notes from the office.

A tentative knock at the door interrupted me before I could read them. "Miss Swan?"

I looked up, though I knew who it was without having to. I smiled warmly at the young girl, ignoring her knotty, unkempt hair and creased shirt. "Good morning, Grace. How are we this morning?"

"Good. Great. Thanks."

I nodded to the front desk where a brown paper bag sat next to a Starbucks cup. "There's a berry smoothie and chocolate croissant there with your name on it."

Grace's tired grey eyes lit up, and my heart both filled and ached with how simple it was to make this young girl beam. "You mean it?"

"Mmm-hmm. Don't get used to it; I didn't have time to do my groceries last night, so it'll be back to a granola bar and apple juice tomorrow."

"Thank you, Miss Swan." Her voice emanated gratitude, and I caught her small smile when she noticed that her name literally was scrawled on the side of the plastic cup.

"I've got something else for you, too," I said, plucking one of the competition fliers from the top of the pile on my desk and passing it to her.

Grace took a moment to read it while chewing her first bite of lukewarm croissant. "You really think I could do this?"

"It won't hurt to give it a go. You absolutely have the talent. Your stories are incredible, Grace."

"Yeah… maybe."

"They accept digital entries. Encourage it, really. You'd definitely be able to use spell check."

She looked up at me, and I saw the youthful expression of hope. I remembered when I still had hope in my heart.

"Think about it," I said. "Now… are we working on reading or writing this morning?"

Grace Gillespie was a student in one of my junior English classes and also my homeroom. She had crippling dyslexia and when she had shyly come to me to ask for help after school, I had been ecstatic to be able to comply. Especially since I had heard the talk in the staff room about the Gillespie family: the untidy and unruly children; the empty beer bottles littered across the untended front garden; the bruises Mrs Gillespie couldn't always hide. The more Grace asked for help, the more it made me certain that she was only so dedicated to her studies because it kept her away from home for longer, kept her safer. So when she asked if she could also come and study some more before school, not only did I say yes, but I always made sure to pack a spare breakfast that I 'simply couldn't bear to eat so early in the morning'. I had dropped the pretence now – Grace knew I brought breakfast for her – but she still came. Sometimes I helped her with her reading and writing; sometimes she simply sat and struggled through a text with her green filter while I finished up planning and grading papers.

Teachers aren't supposed to have favourites, but I would have been lying if I said Grace didn't pull on a few more heartstrings than some of her fellow classmates.

"Actually, Miss Swan, I'm just going to read some of my book, if that's okay?"

"Of course, Grace. Let me know if you need anything." As the girl took her desk at the back of the class, I settled myself at my desk, switching on the computer and turning my attention to the notes from the office.

Soccer practice after school is cancelled – coach unwell, a scribbled handwritten note read. I sighed; Kai would be disappointed.

There was a note about a collection in the office for the headteacher, Mr Boswell's upcoming sixtieth birthday. A printed email from a parent asking me to call after school. Finally, a printed message from the office for all staff that I knew would also be in my email inbox when I opened it up:

Note for all staff: three new students will be starting today, two juniors and a senior, all siblings. Names unconfirmed at present as their transfer from their previous school was rather sudden. If you have them in your class, please ensure they feel welcomed. Their files will be transferred from their previous school in the coming days so in the meantime, please assume all three students are of average attainment and, as always, take any concerns to safeguarding lead, Mr Boswell. Thanks.

I felt a little empathy for these new students, remembering how tough it had been for me to start a new high school in the middle of the semester of my junior year as well. A familiar aftershock of pain throbbed through me even before any memories could flood my mind, so I pushed those thoughts way down, squashed them like a bug underfoot: insignificant and easily forgotten.

I checked my class list and felt confident that I wouldn't have any of these students in my homeroom class; mine was more than full with not a spare desk to be seen. My English classes, however, were another matter. With our department currently flagging due to illness and an unwise affair with a student (the less said, the better), I was taking on the vast majority of classes that semester. I just hoped that the new students would at least have a good understanding of English, something I'd found was not always a given with new students.

Slowly, the classroom filled up with my homeroom students and eventually the day began. I enthusiastically taught the exact same class about The Scarlet Letter back-to-back, and got a particularly tricky freshman class to engage with a speaking and listening lesson about rap, and then it was break time. I took a loo break and then went to the cafeteria for my necessary mid-morning caffeine hit.

I was waiting in the staff line to pay when something shocked me still. A flash, just a flash, of dark black hair, styled into a spiky bob, hovering at the neck of a girl who was petite, small in the extreme. Just as quick as I saw it, though, it was gone. And I never saw the girl's face so it could have been anyone. Worse than that, I was probably imagining it. Even after fifteen long years, my brain still sometimes played tricks on me like that. Sometimes, it felt like I'd imagined that whole family in my head. Other times… the memories were so real, so concrete that they hit me like a sucker punch.

As if I never existed.

Yeah. Right.

"Miss?" the cashier was shouting now, and I shook myself out of my shock to glance up. She was staring at me like I was a certified mad person and I realised she'd probably been calling for me to step up and pay for a little while.

"Sorry," I mumbled, swiping my staff card to pay for the coffee, before turning and heading back down the long, sprawling corridors, my brain racing and my chest tight.

My next class passed in a blur; I couldn't tell you what it was about or whether my teaching was even passable.

I usually ate lunch at my desk while marking, but today I needed to go to the staff room. I needed to hear someone say something about these new students, because I couldn't possibly have seen what I saw. I ate my pasta salad quietly in an unobtrusive corner, ears peeled for anything unusual. But there was nothing.

A fellow English teacher, Lily, sat down beside me. "How was your morning?"

"Oh… you know… the usual," I replied, unfocused, listening to two Chemistry teachers behind me discuss a fight that had broken out in class this morning. Clearly the new students weren't on their minds.

I tuned back into Lily, just as she was saying… "very bright. I think I might have to put him on the gifted and talented list."

"What? Who?" I demanded, probably too aggressively because she blinked at me.

"Um… one of the new students. Brandon… something. I can never keep track of new names. When I used to do subbing, I used to take labels with me everywhere and make the kids write their names down for me." She frowned. "Though I did then end up teaching a fair few Clark Kents and Tony Starks… and Batman wasn't uncommon. I saw through it though, obviously. I mean, if you're going to pick a fake name…"

"What did he look like?" I asked, cutting her off again.

Lily was straight-up confused this time. "Who? Batman?"

"No! The new kid!"

She stared at me funny for a moment. "Um… blond-ish. Tall. Tall enough to play basketball but didn't look the sporty type. Why? What does it matter?"

Not bronze. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Cut it out, Bella, you're being ridiculous. "Nothing. No reason."

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked quietly. She leaned in. "If you need a break…"

"No. No, I'm fine. I just… I need some air."

I dumped the rest of my lunch in the trash and headed outside, striding past the bike sheds and the car park to a small piece of grass by the edge of campus, surrounded by overgrown trees. I stood in the drizzle, took a deep breath and then hit 1 on speed dial.

"Hey, Bells." His voice came easily through the phone after just a couple of rings, sounds of metal hitting metal in the background of the call. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I said automatically, then pinched the bridge of my nose. "Everything." I sighed.

Now the banging stopped. There was a slight pause and then all was quiet his end, and I knew he must have stepped into his office. "What's up?" he asked again, voice serious and deep this time. "What is it?"

"I…" I stopped, not knowing how to explain my delusions, even to the one person who would understand.

But I didn't have to. He got me. "Are you having an achy day again?"

"You could say that." An achy day was what we called the days I had every now and then when he wouldn't leave my thoughts, when my heart ached with a grief that was never going to leave me. Not like he had done.

"Bella, I can come and get you. You know Mr Boswell will understand if you need a break, if it's getting too much. You put way too much into those kids and it must be exhausting in your condition…"

"Jake!" I cut him off before he can start making excuses for my lack of mental stability right now. "No. I don't… I just… I want to know something, no questions?"

"Alright," he agreed begrudgingly.

"How are you feeling today?"

"That's it?"

"Yeah… but… like… your extra senses," I hinted heavily. "How are they right now?"

"Uh… wolfish?" he answered, and I could hear the wary grin in his voice. Typical Jacob: unable to avoid a joke even when he's concerned for me. "No different than the usual cravings to howl at the moon and massacre the townsfolk."

"Har har. Seriously, Jake. You don't feel any different?"

"Nope. Why? Should I?" His tone dropped to a low growl. "Have you seen something?"

"I said no questions!" I knew that wouldn't placate him, so I added pathetically: "I was just… wondering."

"What is up with you, Bella?"

"Nothing," I said again, forcing my voice to be calmer now. "I guess I'm just tired. I'll see you later. Dinner at yours tonight, right?"

"Right. Are you sure you're okay? We can cancel if not."

"No! I'm great. I'll see you later." I hung up, not giving him a chance to dig any further. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and tilted my chin up to let the thin mist of rain settle on my eyelids and hopefully sober my thoughts. It didn't happen often, but whenever Jacob and I were even remotely in the presence of vampires, he felt off: aggressive, restless, unbearably protective. If he was fine, then so was everything else. I was just having an achy day without even being conscious of it and apparently some short girl with black hair set me off into a dreamworld. Or a nightmare.

It was almost time for classes to restart so I knew I needed to head back, but I decided to take a short detour past the cafeteria to see if I could get a glimpse of these new kids – if, indeed, that's where they were. Just to set the last piece of my paranoia to rest.

I passed the cafeteria on the outside, looking through the large windows into the light and open lunch hall. The crowds were thinning a little now that it was nearing the end of lunch time, but there were enough that I had to slow my pace to have a good look at the students. I had all but given up on spotting any new faces when my gaze brushed over the last few tables on the far side of the room, in the shadowy part of the hall.

And then my gaze fell on a colour that I had not seen in fifteen long years and my whole body reacted violently. My skin erupted into goosebumps, my fingers tingled, my hands shook. My stomach clenched and unclenched, and my spine stiffened like a rod. To this day, I have no idea how my legs didn't simply give out underneath me. I never made a conscious decision in that moment, but suddenly I was moving in through the door, my eyes pinned sharply on that flash of astonishing bronze, and I felt vehemently in my whole body that he was not going to leave my sight: I wouldn't let him. Students who caught sight of me automatically moved aside, afraid of the ferocity in my gaze, and the cafeteria opened up to me like the red sea. Ironic, really, that we should meet again in a cafeteria of all places.

As I neared, I noticed just to the side of my tunnel vision that she sat opposite him, that ink black hair real and the same as always. And I was still tuned in to them enough to hear her gasp, and the boy sat to her right – blond-ish and tall – murmur: "Alice, what is it? What do you see?" He was so used to her sudden shock being a reaction to the future that Jasper didn't realise that her reaction was to the present – or, at least, a future so imminent that it might as well have been the present: my sudden decision to confront them.

The shoulders beneath the messy shock of bronze seemed to tense up under my gaze and I knew then that, though I was the one person he could not see coming, he knew I was there. I didn't know whether he saw me in Alice's mind or simply felt my presence the way I felt his – like a guttural ache, a need that filled me from the smallest greying hair on my hair to the last bit of hard flesh on my toes – but I was certain that I had lost the element of surprise.

I stopped in my tracks, waiting with baited breath to see his reaction. I pinned him with my eyes though I knew that if he wanted to run, I couldn't stop him. I wouldn't even see him leave if he was desperate enough. He'd be gone in a single blink, an apparition vanishing into the air. But I could hope that there was something here to make him stay. If not my self any more, then perhaps my blood. I wondered, vaguely, in that moment, whether I still smelled as sweet to him now that my eyes were slightly creased at the edges and my slight tummy betrayed the slower metabolism that had come over the years. But he didn't disappear. He didn't even move a millimetre.

So I would have to be the brave one here. I would have to make the vampire cower before the might of the menial human. I stepped forward until I was barely a foot behind him. I swallowed back the lump in my throat and then spoke, in a voice that didn't waver half as much as I expected it to. "What are you doing here?"