A/N for 2018-10-14: A little bit of canon. A little bit of not. Enjoy!

~ Erin

Someplace Quiet

She'd calmed down by the time they reached the end of the road he'd taken off the highway.

"Where're we going?" Her voice felt, and sounded hoarse.

"Someplace quiet," he said. Handing her back the keys to her truck, he looked up her and down, frowning slightly.

"What?"

"You're not dressed for hiking."

"No," she said, looking down at the sandals, shorts and t-shirt she was wearing.

"Not a problem," he murmured. Turning his back to her, he held his hands out. "Hop on." He looked back over his shoulder.

"You want to give me a piggyback ride?" Both her eyebrows shot up.

HIs face broke open in a grin. "Something like that. Trust me."

Trust him.

She trusted him.

Coming closer, she hooked her arms around his neck, and he caught her legs under his hands. "Hold on tight," he warned her.

The world became a blur. A horrifying, terrifying slipping past things that left her shaking and trembling when he stopped.

"You can get down now, Bella."

She didn't let go.

"Bella?"

She couldn't let go.

His hand let go of her leg, and came up to her arm. He repeated this action with the other, detaching her, and turning her to face him.

"Just a sec," she whispered, closing her eyes, leaning into his chest. The world was still stubbornly moving.

"Talk to me, please." He sounded worried.

"Dizzy."

"Maybe next time, you should close your eyes?"

"Next time?" She looked up at him in alarm.

His grin was dazzling. "It's about a two hour hike back to your truck. I'm game if you are."

She closed her eyes again, "Oh my God."

"I'm immortal, but not Deific."

She snorted out a laugh, and an answering chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Come see," he said, lifting his chin towards the diffuse light that filtered through the thinning trees.

As they moved into the open, Bella gasped. It was a clearing—a meadow, full of flowers: large swaths of colour that held old friends—scarlet paintbrush, wild honeysuckle, and the distinct bells of blue rainflowers. A rush of tears made her breath catch. These were the flowers she most associated with her time with Charlie. When he would fish in the river, he'd send her out with a field guide and whistle, telling her to call when she found some interesting specimen. She never bothered with the critters, but the blossoms were her finds. He'd encouraged her to start drawing them, and the love of pencil over paper had grown from there.

She'd never seen so many of the flowers in profusion, all together.

"It so beautiful." There was a tightness in her chest, and she bent down, fingering a columbine that hung delicately.

He didn't say anything, and she was grateful. Instead, he sat, legs stretched out, hands beside him, watching her pinch at various stems, collecting a small posy. When she returned to sit alongside him, she wrapped the stems together in a strand of dry grass, holding out the tidy bundle for him to take.

"Thank you," he murmured, looking at her, head slightly tilted. "Do you know their names?"

She nodded, murmuring through them as she touched the individual specimens. Her voice was still husky. "They don't keep long, unfortunately."

"I'll remember them long enough," he said softly.

Something about the way he said it made Bella wonder at the meaning beneath it. "Is there some significance I've missed here?"

"No." He smiled. "We just...remember things more easily, or rather, don't really forget things."

"Ever?"

"Not really, no. Our human memories fade, but the ones in this life are permanent."

"You mean you have perfect recall?"

"That's one way of putting it."

She considered the implications of this. "Do you remember much of your human life?"

"A little. My mother, a few memories I recalled in my early years, but most of it is gone."

"I'm sorry," Bella said, glad of her own, that Renee and Charlie were so clear in her mind's eye.

"It's alright," he smiled, taking her hand, sitting up. The posy was carefully tucked into his shirt pocket. "There hasn't been much worth remembering until now."

Her heart stuttered. He couldn't mean that

His fingers brushed a hair away from her cheek. "You doubt that."

"Well, I suppose watching me cuss out the local law enforcement is pretty memorable."

He didn't laugh. "You were within your rights, Bella." His face was serious. "Not that I blame him for stopping. He recognized your truck. He feels guilty for failing you, and your father."

"His efforts were misplaced," she gritted out.

"Yes, but he couldn't know that without checking." Then a slow grin spread out over his face. "And he was right. The age difference is considerable. And...we weren't just talking."

She rolled her eyes, but then pinched her eyebrows together. "When were you born?" She wondered if he would tell her now.

"1901. Chicago."

She sucked in an awed breath. "You've seen so much."

"Some, I suppose. I'm young, compared to Carlisle."

"How old is he?"

"Over three hundred years."

Her mind boggled. "And the rest of your family?"

"Most of them are a little younger than me, but Jasper is a bit older."

She tried to hold onto just how much they would have seen, and learned, in all this time together.

This brought her to another thought. "Are you still in school?"

"I am, but on leave for now. My courses were mostly wrapped up when I met you."

"So you're not missing anything, being here?"

"I am definitely not missing anything worthwhile, being with you, no."

They'd moved closer, and now their lips lost the air between them, joined by mutual feeling, and uninterrupted by the inference of others.

The world seemed distant when she was with him, her hands tracing the shape of his face and hair, burying themselves in its softness.

When he pulled himself away, she moaned, wanting more, her body protesting the loss of his closeness.

Then he was at the edge of the treeline, and she lurched forward with the loss of his counterbalance.

"Edward?"

"Just give me a moment, please," he called.

She waited, trying not to show her anxiousness. What had she done wrong?

His return was as sudden as his disappearance. "I'm sorry. I need to be more careful around you."

"What did I do?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I just—I can't lose control around you, Bella. Ever."

"Are you...in control?"

"I am now, yes. It's—" he breathed out. "When I'm with you, everything I do is so very carefully calculated. It would be so easy to slip, to use just a fraction too much strength—crushing your bones instead of simply touching you." His eyes were full of a nervous apprehension. "I would understand if you changed your mind, if you—"

"No." She put her finger to his lips. "I trust you. I think you don't give yourself enough credit."

He returned his hand to her cheek. "I'm trying to be worthy of it."

"So far, so good." There were mutual smiles now.

They lost themselves in more conversation, exchanging their small secrets and hopes, passing hours in the sweetness of the meadow and its flowers. When her stomach growled, Edward sat up. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think about how hungry you must be."

"It's OK. I don't mind." She looked at her watch, and bit her lip. "But I should probably call and at least tell Billy where I am." This thought was heavy in her gut.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

"I'm just wondering what else they haven't told me."

His jaw tightened.

She caught it. "There is more, isn't there?"

He looked away. Reaching to the side, he plucked one of the stems that had reached out of the shade for light, its long neck weighted by a heavy, bobbling head. His fingers snapped it neatly, twirling the weight on the oozing stem. "There's a fine line between what is kept, and what is private, Bella. I don't often talk about other people's business, because it's very hard for me to keep straight what they've said, and what they've thought."

"And you've heard something in Jacob and Billy's thoughts?"

"I've heard many things in their thoughts that I'm sure you don't know, and don't need to know."

"That is the most evasive piece of bull I've heard from you yet."

His head was still pointed partway down, but his eyes met hers. "I don't think there's anything that I should tell you, no." She opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke before she could. "Really, Bella. If it was important, I would, but you should ask them if there's anything else you need to know."

She set this frustration aside, nodding, accepting he wouldn't say. She knew enough of him now to see that.

"But I think we should find you something to eat."

"OK." She stood, and then watched him turn his back to her, hands outstretched.

This time was not so dislocating as the first, and they were at her truck in minutes.

"Maybe I should drive?" he asked softly, watching her wobble on two feet.

Edward's house was full when they arrived this time.

"Hi Bella!" Alice called, appearing at the entranceway, "We have lunch ready for you."

"Oh, thank you," Bella said, a little taken aback by this abrupt greeting.

"Not everyone is used to having someone prescient around, Alice," Edward scolded her.

"So says the mind reader." She rolled her eyes at her brother. "Come on!" Her hand pulled Bella's good one forward towards the kitchen.

With a backward glance to Edward, Bella followed Alice, he staying close behind.

In the kitchen, Carlisle and Esme were sitting in the chairs by the window, chatting. In the distance, Bella saw Jasper and Emmett playing a game in the living room. There were quiet greetings called out, which she returned. It seemed all very...normal. And yet, not.

Rosalie walked by without so much as a glance in Bella's direction, lips mumbling something her human hearing couldn't catch. Everyone around Bella stiffened for a minute, and then seemed to relax. Emmett got up and followed his wife out of the house.

As quietly as she could, Bella asked Edward, "Did I do something to offend her?"

"No." He leaned forward over the table where she was sitting, her sandwich and soup so far untouched. "She's...upset about something else."

"Something to do with me."

He didn't deny it.

"You're not responsible for how Rosalie feels, Bella," Alice said softly. "We don't often interact with humans—not so intimately." She smiled, almost apologetically. "This is taking some getting used to for all of us. Rose especially."

Bella's appetite disappeared, and she turned her next question to Edward. "Is it hard for her to be in control, because I can leave—"

"No, it isn't that. She's afraid that I might not be in control, which would cause problems for all of us."

Oh. Yes, that made sense.

"Or if you say something, and reveal our existence."

"I would never—"

"I know that. We know that. But Rose is...less certain of humankind."

Bella looked down. "I can relate."

There was another awkward pause, and she wondered what she'd said to cause it.

"But you should eat, and then call Billy," Edward said. His eyes smiled. "Do I get to hoard your company for the rest of the day, or are you bound elsewhere?"

"No plans, no."

"Good."

Alice clapped her hands together. "Excellent! Hey, Edward says you draw—is that true?"

"Yeah, I do a bit. Haven't lately though."

"I draw too. If the mood strikes you we have lots of supplies here."

"Thank you," Bella murmured.

"Does applying makeup really make you an artist, Alice?" Edward's smirk was playful.

"You like living dangerously brother," Alice quipped back.

"Just a bit."

When Bella was finished lunch, having enjoyed the back and forth between Edward and Alice, she phoned Billy, only telling him she'd be home later.

"Saving the difficult conversation for later?" Edward asked her.

"Yes. Not something I want to do on the phone, no."

She'd stood by the entranceway to call her foster-father, putting the phone back in her pocket. Edward pulled her close. "Alice wants to go play dress up with you." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully towards the stairs. "Unless you have something you'd rather do?"

She laughed silently and mouthed a desperate "an-y-thing else," to him.

He responded by picking her up and carrying her up to his room at a speed that left her gasping and giggling.

Edward pulled out a CD, tapping it in the slot of his stereo. The strains of an old song—or one that was old to Bella, filled the room.

"My mom used to listen to this."

Edward came to her, putting one hand at her waist, the other taking her good hand.

"What are you doing?" Bella asked.

"Dancing with you."

"Oh, no, I don't—" and she went to move away.

"You don't have to," he laughed, and put one of her hands at his shoulder, taking the other. Then he lifted her onto his feet, and began moving them around the room. It felt like she was floating, and her smile made her cheeks blossom with a lightness and happiness that she hadn't felt in a long time.

They moved this way until the song bled into another one, and then he took possession of her face with his hands, and her lips with his.

When it ended, he didn't pull away, but let their foreheads be tipped together.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who's greedy for that."

"Greedy is the right word," she agreed. More softly she asked, "Did you stop for a reason?"

"No." He shook his head.

"Why?"

"Wasn't sure if we were going to have a well meaning adult interruption." She felt silly, saying it.

Edward chuckled. "Hardly. Esme is so happy for me she's threatened all my siblings with dire consequences if they so much as think of bothering us."

Bella chuckled. "Good to know. No interference."

So they spent the remainder of the day, talking between kisses and laughter, discovery and touch.

When he got out of her truck at the boundary line, and she pulled away after he'd kissed her one last time, she felt like some invisible elastic stretched between them, pulling tighter and tauter as she drove away, not snapping, but wanting to draw them back together again as soon as possible.