A/N for 2019-01-13: Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for Beta-ing again. If you spot any errors though, they are all mine, as I tinkered with it afterwards.

There will be one more chapter after this, and then an epilogue, and this tale will be done. I've enjoyed this unplanned narrative jaunt, but will be grateful to have more time to devote to the story Elise de Sallier and I are working on.

Enjoy!

~ Erin

"You want to skip your senior year?" Edward asked her, eyebrows brushing his hairline.

"No," Bella said, smiling, "I said I wanted to home-school."

He didn't say anything for a bit. Then his mouth pulled down at the corners a bit, making a small frown. "You've made friends there."

"Sure, but I don't need to be there to keep them."

"No, but there would be a lot of milestones you'd be missing."

"Hardly." She shrugged, wiggling a bit on her seat on the couch.

Now Edward eyed her more carefully. He'd made an off-hand remark about her skipping school to spend her days with him just the other week, as they'd enjoyed the meadow.

"Are you doing this because you think it will please me?"

"No. Not at all." She grinned. "Sorry. Should I be?" She arched an eyebrow coyly.

"No." He smiled, and then sighed. "Are you sure? That this is what you want?"

"I am. I've never been keen on high school. I would've homeschooled if my mom had let me."

She had made a point of discussing this choice with Esme and Carlisle when Edward had been out hunting. They'd listened, and then counselled, asking some of the same questions Edward had. Then they'd left the decision in her hands.

He sat back a bit more on the sofa. "I can't see the course work taking you all year." When he looked up again, there was a glint in his eyes.

"What're you thinking?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I'm thinking that Paris is beautiful in the Spring."

Bella laughed at this incredible idea, but then let it slide into something possible. "I could probably splurge on Paris." She and Carlisle had met with the estate lawyer a few weeks prior. She wouldn't be wealthy when she inherited her parents' estates, but she'd have enough for college, and a trip, or a downpayment on a small home.

"Oh no," Edward said, shaking his head. "Paris would be my graduation gift to you."

She blushed at the notion, but made herself swallow, instead of objecting. She was working hard on accepting Edward's generosity graciously.

"That would be very . . . generous, as a graduation gift."

"Hardly. I'd be going with you." His lips left a soft kiss behind her ear. "In fact, I think I'm being rather selfish. I want to see Paris through your eyes. And I think Alice would like to tag along too. She likes the spring shows. Perhaps it can simply be a family holiday."

Bella chuckled.

"What?" he asked.

"Family holidays." Her throat spasmed briefly, but it passed. "Mom and I would go on super low budget road trips. You know, to see things like the world's biggest apple."

"Well. If you've covered the biggest apple, I'll just have to take you to see the giant pear."

"There's a giant pear?"

"No idea. But I'm sure we can find out."

They were both snorting with laughter now. When it ended, he said, "But I would like to take you to Paris. And Nice, and . . . everywhere." He was talking to her neck, as he nuzzled over it. "Where would you like to go, if you had your choice?"

Bella didn't have to think about it long. "Don't laugh."

"I won't," he whispered, kissing her shoulder.

"I'd love to see where Jane Austen lived."

"Hmm . . ." he murmured into her hair, "That would practically be educational. We could do that before you graduated." His lips kissed the corner of hers.

She sucked in a breath, logical thoughts fleeing on the exhale.

"And then after, we could go to Paris. The city of love." His lips had reached her ear. "I would like to take you to tiny cafes, and art galleries, and museums." His whispers lingered at her jaw and then his lips possessed hers.

Then he stopped.

"But only if you want," he said softly.

Bella blinked, still putting meaning to words.

He grinned widely, pulling back.

"You need to stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Dazzling me."

"Really? You don't want me to do that anymore?" His finger trailed down the path his lips had left.

"Oh, no, I want you to do that, just not ask me questions while you're doing it."

He laughed, and she took advantage of his head being tipped back, making contact with the small V of space at his shirt. Her tongue swirled under her kiss and it was his turn to groan.

The sound morphed into one of disappointment.

Emmett's voice preceded him. "If this is what homeschooling looks like, I'm all for it." Leaning into the doorway, he added, "C'mon, we're gonna go play baseball. You in?"

"Nope," Edward called, without turning to look, "Busy homeschooling."

Bella laughed as Emmett rolled his eyes. "Kids," he said dramatically, and walked away.

Looking to return to the activities they'd been enjoying, Bella was disappointed to see Edward lean forward, arms on his knees. He was eyeing her left hand, where her engagement ring sat. "We could get married in England. At Jane Austen's estate."

The suggestion threw her, and she frowned slightly, trying to imagine. Trying to wrap her head around the logistics.

The cost.

Edward's face mirrored hers. "There's no rush, Bella. If you want to wait. I know you're young—"

"No," she rushed out. "I can't wait to marry you. It was the locale that surprised me."

"Have you moved on from Austen?" He asked lightly.

"As if." She grinned. "No, I just—I guess I've always imagined us being married...here."

"In Forks?"

"Yes," she said shyly, "and here. In this house."

Edward looked around the living room. "That would be easy enough to arrange."

"Only someone in your family would say a wedding is easy to arrange."

"Well, it is, really. Minister. Stuff. Guests. Done!" He gestured vaguely. "Of course, Alice usually handles the 'stuff' part. At least for Rose and Emmett. And you are in no way obligated to have Alice manage things."

"I wouldn't mind Alice helping."

Edward gave her the wariest of looks. "I'm not holding you to that, and neither will Alice."

Bella smiled. "OK." Then they just sat together, Bella wondering at the one thing they hadn't discussed. "We haven't settled on a date," she finally said.

"No," Edward said carefully.

She suspected that he hadn't wanted to rush, or pressure her.

A passing sting of doubt made her wonder if he wasn't certain.

Don't be stupid, she told herself. You love each other. He loves you.

He loves you.

"Is there one you have in mind?" he asked softly. His posture was relaxed again, or it looked that way. Except, she could see a hint of tension in his back, the way he was sitting just shy of the sofa cushions.

There was a date, but it seemed ludicrous, and impossible. Too early. "Yes, but it's—it's totally unrealistic. Too soon. We wouldn't be able to make it work."

"What is it?" he asked.

"My birthday." She shrugged.

His eyes crinkled with a smile. "I would love that, though it would feel like I'd be getting the present."

Her laughter was topped with an easy smile. "I think you've got that backwards, but it's not enough time. I think a wedding takes more than—"

"A month? No," he said, practically scoffing. "Easily done." Then his face went taut and he almost stammered, "Unless you mean next year, which is lots of time—"

"No," Bella said, catching his face with her hands. "I meant my next birthday. My eighteenth."

"Then Bella Swan, I look forward to marrying you. On your birthday."

Bella started at the loud, excited squeal coming from somewhere in the house.

"Alice," Edward explained. "She loves weddings."

- 0 -

Bella had never visited a bridal boutique before, but it was very clear that Alice had.

Esme looked at ease, pretending to sip her tea, and smiling graciously, while Alice authoritatively gathered a flock of white dresses, augmenting Bella's initial selections. While Angela and Sally seemed a bit more awkward, they made up for this deficiency with youthful and giddy exuberance.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe how beautiful that one is!" Sally squeaked.

Bella wished she could agree.

"Erm..." she said, looking down at the satin and lace contraption.

"They can like it all they want," the shop attendant said brusquely, "but if it doesn't make you feel something, it's not for you." She looked sideways at Alice, who said nothing, flicking something off her nail. "No rush. Keep trying. You'll know when you find it."

They were eight dresses in, and Bella was beginning to feel like there was an unending parade of them coming at her.

"I think I might need a break," she said, as Alice's hand held out another garment bag.

"Just one more," Alice said. "Trust me. It's a good one."

They'd all been 'good ones' in someone's opinion. They just all seemed . . . too much. Not her.

"OK," Bella said. "One more."

Then she stopped.

"How many dresses do people try on?" she asked the attendant, who was unhooking what felt like a million buttons at the back of a voluminous ivory puffball.

"Oh, as few as five, and as many as fifty. All depends."

Fifty?

Bella closed her eyes and thought some very bad words. Why had she thought this would be fun? She hated shopping. This was shopping on steroids.

No, this was torture.

"Last one, Alice. Then we're going for coffee."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Bella couldn't even make herself look at the dress Alice had handed her. It was at least a natural fabric, the raw silk both soft, and rough under her fingers.

She was sure the woman helping her was glad the thing only had one zipper.

"There," she said, pulling it up.

Without looking in the mirror, Bella stepped outside the small changing room and onto the dais in front of the store's main bank of mirrors.

She'd never expected to want to cry. Not because of a dress.

It wasn't just because of the dress.

No.

The fabric gathered just like another dress she'd worn.

Just like the dress Edward had bought her.

This one was white, though, and its creamy length distinguished it from the black one he'd given her that first night they'd met.

The shoulders were delicately scalloped, but the cross-over v-neck slipped into delicate ruching under breasts, flaring out into a soft a-line that settled right at her ankles.

He'd saved her that night, and then she'd saved him from himself.

They'd saved each other.

"So, what do you think Bella?" Sally asked softly.

All the other women were very quiet.

"Think this is it," Bella croaked out.

In the mirror, Bella caught Alice's wink, and she smiled back, very, very softly.

- 0 -

Billy slid the cup of tea towards Bella over the table. "So what brings you our way, kiddo?" he asked.

They'd had a nice catch up, but Billy didn't miss much, and Bella knew she'd stretched the small talk as far as it could go.

She looked into the cup, watching the loose leaves fall as she swirled it. "You know Edward and I are planning on getting married."

"Sure," he said, sipping from his own cup.

"Well, we set a date."

"Oh?"

Bella felt a stab of nerves. Was this pushing things, to ask this?

Billy sat, face placid, waiting.

Don't be a chicken, she told herself.

"And I was wondering if you would walk me down the aisle?"

Suddenly Billy was blinking, and wiping at his eyes. "Me?"

She couldn't quite make words anymore, so she nodded.

His voice was rough when he spoke. "I'd love to, Bella. I really would. 'Cept I can't."

"What?" she choked out.

Then he grinned. "Gonna have to roll you there instead."

She was so relieved, the laugh that bubbled up was something between a sob and a snort. Then she moved around the table and into his waiting hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They stayed that way for a bit, and then Billy spoke again. "I'm so sorry your Dad won't be here to see this Bella, but I'm glad I am. And I'll try to make all the bad jokes I know he'd want to."

Her face felt tired from the wide smile that she kept making. "I'm sure you'll do great."

Billy went back to his coffee. "Who should we have pushing me down the aisle with you?"

"That's usually Jake's job, isn't it?"

"It is," Billy said, nodding slowly. Warily.

"He could, if he's OK with that."

"I think Jacob can be OK with that."

"Good," Bella said, and went back to her tea, her expression free of the worry she'd worn there.

"You still haven't said when," Billy reminded her.

"Oh, um. . . . in a month."

Now Billy's eyes were wide. "Your Dad would go ballistic."

"Probably." Bella said. So would her mother. But maybe not. They hadn't met Edward.

No, she thought, they'd probably still be freaking out, even after meeting Edward.

But they weren't there, and she was.

"Does that change things for you?" she asked seriously.

"Sure," Billy quipped. "Gives me less time to work on my jokes."

Their laughter filled the small space of Billy's kitchen, seeming to rise up, and flood the air around them, so when Bella went home, it was with her heart trembling with joy.

- 0 -

"Just don't let me fall down, OK?" Bella whispered to Billy, as they began their slow procession down the aisle Esme had set through the garden.

Edward stood, his back to her, waiting at the front, and it was there that she focused her attention.

He was Home.

And she was a certain eighteen steps from him.

She'd counted them when they'd rehearsed the day before.

A minimum of twelve long ones, or a more sedate eighteen.

Eighteen.

At step three, she had to remind herself that this was real, that it wasn't one of those botched, horrifying dreams that had haunted her in the weeks leading up to this. She wasn't going to trip. Even if Billy couldn't prevent it, she was sure Jacob would.

At step five, she felt the comb in her hair jostle slightly, and hoped it stayed put.

Sue Clearwater had come early, asking formally, and loudly from the door, "To see the Quileute Bride."

Alice's eyebrows had risen at that particular phrasing.

"Just upstairs," Esme had murmured. The sound carried in the house, and Bella caught all of this, glancing at Alice.

"What's up?" she'd asked softly.

Alice had only shrugged, shaking her head, eyebrows pinched together in uncertainty.

Sue's "Hi," to Bella had been shy. "I have something for you. Something blue, and something to remind you who your family is." Then she'd glanced nervously at Alice, who stepped back from where she'd been doing Bella's hair.

From her purse, Sue pulled out a small package wrapped in a soft cloth.

"Mrs. Ateara made this for you," Sue said, holding it out to her.

Bella had never met Mrs. Ateara, so she looked on curiously.

"She's one of our oldest council members." Sue had put the little parcel in Bella's hand. In it was a carved wooden comb, the top shaped into the body of the wolf, its legs and tail making up the tines of the comb. Set where the eye of the wolf would be, was a bright blue bead.

"It's beautiful," Bella had said in hushed tones, looking at Sue. "Thank you." Then she'd stood up and hugged her.

The braiding almost done, Alice had held out her hand for this token and slipped the comb into the back of Bella's hair.

At step eleven, Bella felt a stinging swell of emotion. Her parents weren't there. She almost tripped over herself.

Billy squeezed her hand.

She took a deep breath and kept walking.

She barely realized when Billy put her hand into Edward's, she was so lost in her fiance's bright amber eyes.

She did, however, catch Billy's very quiet words. "We're trusting you, Cullen. Don't make us regret it. We protect our own."

Edward's glance to Billy was quick and solemn, the nod almost imperceptible. But it was there.

The words of the ceremony were a blur. All that tied her to the earth were Edward's eyes and his solid hands in hers.

When Mr. Weber pronounced them husband and wife, she registered the relief of Edward's touch and the kiss that left her breathless. She was only rudimentarily aware of the cleared throats from the audience, then the open chuckles and murmuring.

She felt like she was beet-red when Edward pulled away.

"More later," he whispered, then turned her to face the small assembly of people and their enthusiastic applause.

She didn't count the steps on the way back down the aisle. There was no need.

She knew they ended in forever.

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight.