A/N: Agent Masen better beware. There's an army of twilight fans armed with tasers, handcuffs and wooden spoons setting out to teach him some humility! Stick together, ladies. You might have a chance.
Last chapter had a lighter tone. It's over now. If you aren't up for the dark and heavy, now's the time to stop reading, because there isn't going to be sunshine for a very long time. This is my last disclaimer. Several readers have decided not to continue reading and I completely understand. It's absolutely okay by me. I appreciate each and every one of you for giving this fic a try!
"One more thing, then we need to get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
Masen retrieved his laptop from their luggage, pulled two chairs around to face each other, then motioned for Bella to sit down. She looked on as he opened another slideshow similar to the one they had used to practice masking facial recognition the night before. Masen rested the computer on his lap facing her, then scooted his chair closer until their knees were touching.
"Is this stage two?"
"That's right."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"You're supposed to recognize the people you should know, but not the ones you don't."
"Okay. Who am I supposed to know?"
"Celebrities and political figures that a nine-year-old might be familiar with from the time of Bree Tanner's disappearance, her family members, neighbors and teachers. And your former owners, of course."
"We're close enough in age, and I remember the big names from when I was in middle school, but the rest of it seems unrealistic. I'm good with faces, but not that good."
"You don't need to be that good. She's been missing for eleven years. Apart from her those people who were closest to her, a familiar face might only spark a minimal reaction. The first part of the slideshow includes pictures of her best friends and family members at the time of her disappearance. The way she would remember them. The second set of photos are pictures of Marie's previous owners. Don't worry, they're both dead. Edward Cullen will supply their names and a few anecdotes they shared with him about their time with her. They aren't around to set the record straight. The final set is the real challenge. They'll be mixed in with the pictures from yesterday."
"I don't know, Masen. This feels like a bit of a stretch. Do you really think they'll feel the need to test me like this?" She shifted in her seat, trying to imagine a scenario where the Volturi would shove pictures in her face to get a reaction. It seemed far-fetched at best.
"It's what I would do. They'll be testing both of us constantly. Think of the Volturi as a terrorist cell. They know the authorities want to infiltrate their ranks. Anyone who invites himself in is going to be immediately suspect. Couple that with our unique dynamic, and they are going to want tangible evidence that we aren't a threat before revealing anything incriminating to me."
"What do you mean by 'our unique dynamic'?"
"A lot of these men share girls like they share a bottle of cognac. Far too freely. Then they like to talk about the experience and compare vintages. It's disgusting. Edward Cullen will not share under any circumstance. However, without that parity, that mutual exchange of perverted camaraderie, they'll feel the need to dig deeper before accepting him as one of them."
"Deeper into both characters' lives."
"Yes," he confirmed. "Now, let's begin."
Each of the photos in the first segment had a caption with the name, relationship and some basic information about the person. Many of the faces were familiar from her previous study of Bree Tanner's life. Seeing Bree's loved ones, imagining their grief and longing as hope for her safe return faded year by year, brought tears of anguish to her eyes.
The hardest of all was Bree's little brother Brennan. He was missing one of his front teeth. In the first picture, he was grinning at the camera and his little pink tongue was pushing at the gap. He had sandy blonde hair, brown eyes, freckles and a dimple in his left cheek. He was adorable.
He would be about 16 years old now. Bella wondered if he remembered his sister. How badly was he scarred by her loss? He didn't just lose his sister when Bree disappeared. He lost his happy, carefree existence. His parents lost their peace of mind, and he gave up his childhood innocence. The search for Bree had lasted for months. They held a vigil on her birthday and the date of her disappearance every year. When she went missing, that became his new status quo. The injustice and the pain made her too angry to breathe.
Bella felt Masen scrutinizing her as she studied the pictures. When she reached the blank slide at the end of the set, she wordlessly restarted the slideshow. She tried to put herself in the place of a 9-year-old girl. Third grade, annoyed when her little brother bugged her friends. Sleepovers, Barbies, roller skating and playing at the pool during the summer. She imagines scenes and interactions with each of Bree's friends and family members. She layered each scene with emotions as complex as her own. When she reached the blank slide for the second time, she looked up at Masen and nodded.
She used the same method to ingrain the next two people in her mind. However, in place of scenes from a normal childhood, she filled her thoughts with pain, revulsion, confusion and despair. She felt herself wincing with each new picture as nightmare visions cascaded through her mind. Every story of human suffering, violence and degradation she had ever read or heard became material to construct Marie's own horrific past at the hands of her captors. By the time the slideshow paused again, Bella was shaking.
"Do you need to take a break?" her partner asked softly.
"No. Let's continue while it's fresh."
"You're the boss," he replied.
Bella tried, but couldn't maintain the same level of detachment that she had the night before. However, she quickly realized that she didn't need to. The vivid emotions bubbling beneath her skin did the work for her. She couldn't help flinching whenever one of the two criminals appeared on the screen. And she couldn't stop her eyes from widening or her torso from leaning in whenever one of Bree's loved ones appeared. She didn't have Bree's memories, but she had hundreds of new-made scenes in her head that were strong enough to affect her physically and emotionally in response to a visual cue.
With her peripheral vision she saw Masen lift his hands. His fingertips rested on her temples, cheeks and jaw, feeling the muscles moving subtly beneath her skin while the final photos slipped by.
"I think you missed your calling. You should have been an actress."
"And done what? Auditioned for a soap opera?" she joked, looking up from the screen when the final picture faded away.
"You would have been wasted on daytime television. No, you could be a female action hero. Teach the boys what a real punch looks and feels like."
"What, did I hurt you?"
"I think you bruised my ribs," he moaned theatrically, holding his side.
"Yeah, right. How about your pride?"
"My pride is intact. Actually, it's more than intact. It's growing."
"Aww, shucks. I think that might actually be a legitimate compliment," she smiled, feeling the blush of pride warm her own cheeks.
"Don't get used to it. We've got a long road ahead of us. You're going to fuck up at some point, and when you do, I'm going to ream you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Okay, rookie. No more smartass remarks. Let's get to bed." He closed his laptop and put it aside, then disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later he reappeared, minus the glasses, contacts and ninety percent of his clothes.
Bella took her turn in the bathroom and changed into the only nightclothes she had, one of Marie's lacy shifts. She started a little when she realized Masen was in the bed. As casually as she could, she turned out the lights and climbed beneath the covers on the other side. They weren't touching, but the weight and heat of his body were heavy beside her.
"We'll be on the road at 6 o'clock. When would you like me to wake you up?"
"5:30 is good. As long as we're getting breakfast on the road," her voice cracked and she cleared her throat.
"Okay. Goodnight," he replied. He didn't make a move to set an alarm. Either he already had, or his internal clock had a wake-up call function, too.
Bella lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, swimming gray-black and featureless six feet above her head. A small amount of light seeped into the bedroom from between the heavy curtains. The minutes ticked by, but she found herself unable to go to sleep. Her muscles ached and bruises littered her body, but she knew that wasn't what was bothering her.
"Masen?" she asked softly.
"Hmm?" his voice was deep and muzzy with sleep.
"Are we going to be sleeping together while we're there?"
"Most likely," he responded sluggishly.
"Is that something we need to practice?"
He didn't reply for several seconds. Suddenly he sat up and turned on the light. Bella blinked and shielded her eyes with one hand.
"What exactly are you asking me?" His words were clipped, with no trace of the exhaustion she had heard before.
"Do we need to practice the sexual stuff?" She was suddenly overcome with a surge of embarrassment. She hadn't intended to blurt it out like that. She hadn't even given it much thought. Everything had been so fast-paced since the very beginning that they hadn't ever talked about the most important aspect of their cover stories.
"Absolutely not!" His eyes flashed and she flinched. He was truly angry. "Is that what you thought we would be doing? You thought I would force myself on you to gain credibility with those animals?"
"I don't know. I hadn't really thought that far ahead. I mean, we've been practicing with guns and fighting, drilling and quizzing each other with all this information. I was starting to wonder. What if we have to do more than act to keep our cover?" She was trying to be practical, but she wondered how well she could pull off pretending to have sex under duress.
Her relationships with her past boyfriends had been pretty typical. Getting-to-know-you dates had gradually become more intimate until they naturally evolved to kissing, touching and sleeping together. She had never experienced sexual violence, although one of her classmates had dropped out of school during her sophomore year of college following rape allegations by his roommate's sister. Her actual experience with sexual violence was nonexistent.
"It would never come to that." He was facing her, but he was looking past her. She watched with concern as the muscles in his face and shoulders trembled.
"I don't get it. So you plan to electrocute me and hit me, but not kiss me."
"Kissing? You think that's all they use those kids for?" His eyes snapped down to hers and she swallowed hard. His expression was dark and furious.
"You know what I mean. Kissing, touching, whatever," she tried to explain.
"Do you think I should?" he challenged her, leaning toward her with his hand planted in the mattress between them.
"If that's what the situation calls for we have to put up a convincing display. Otherwise this is all for nothing, and we might as well sentence Mary Alice and any other girls they have to death," she argued. It sounded logical when she said the words, but something deep within her was screaming, "No. This is so, so wrong!"
Masen slammed his fist into the bed. "Enough. It's out of the question. This conversation is over." He turned the lights back out and lay down.
Bella's heart was racing. She ran through the conversation in her head. The stupidity and danger of what she was suggesting finally caught up with her. She was already having trouble distinguishing between Marie's thoughts and her own when she slipped into character. Experiencing a rape first-hand, even a staged one, would destroy any trust and confidence that she shared with her partner.
When he hit her, it was just her body. She knew it would heal soon enough. Besides, it didn't hurt any more than many of the blows she had received as they sparred. But she had never had sex without love. Immature, young love, true, but she had genuinely liked each of her boyfriends for who they were, and she had shared that affection by kissing, touching and making love with them. If she crossed that line with Masen, there would be no going back. Her innocence and her ability to love a man that way would be damaged forever.
Bella felt the tears trickling down the sides of her face into her hair. She shivered. She hadn't intended to make him angry. She should have brought up her questions and concerns the next day when they were on the road with nothing else to do but discuss their plans and strategies. She should have asked him how he planned to work around that dilemma, instead of throwing her assumptions around blindly.
Agent Masen anticipated everything. Of course he had a plan. Didn't he?
When she finally drifted off to sleep, her dreams were haunted by evil leers, bruised bodies, and the blank, hopeless eyes of the girls she was failing.
A/N: I hope that answers some of your questions that I've ignored in the reviews up until this point. Thanks for reading!
One other thing. . . On The Line passed 1,000 reviews last chapter. Wow. Thank you so much! It is really quite fitting that my 1,000th review was written by Margaret TTS. Margaret was active on The Twilight Saga NING website back when I originally started writing fanfiction many moons ago. Her constant support, encouragement and playful, positive reviews have always been a valuable and treasured part of this experience for me. Thanks so much, Margaret!