As always, love to Dawn. She is a beautiful human being. Thank you.

Bella. Wednesday.

Shockingly, my bedroom ceiling still looked the exact same as it did three hours previously, when I had first crawled under my sheets.

Pale blue silk rustled softly against my bare legs and my fingers danced restlessly over lace and skin. I rolled over to look at my clock for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.

2:37am.

Why am I still awake at two in the fucking morning?

Every part of me was exhausted, aching; hell, even my skin was begging to sleep… but my brain had different plans. Random images kept flashing through my head, playing on an endless loop:

Charlie's empty stare as he leaned toward me after winning the Cullen account.

Jessica's stupid swishing hips and Mike's ridiculous mug.

Electric green trapping me from across a room.

Alice's small face, sad and real.

I hit my mattress with a flat palm, and was rewarded with an unsatisfying thud.

Alice.

What the hell was her problem, anyway? Quite frankly, I didn't appreciate her unsolicited opinion on how my life was going. I mean, shit… she usually nodded sympathetically while I told her about how hard I had to work in the office to stay away, stay a stranger. Validating, commiserating, always supporting….

But tonight, of all nights, she had felt like needling me about how lost I'd become, how wrong I was about everything in my life, how awful my existence was… Hadn't I had a tough enough few days?

Everything was spinning out of control, and Alice thought now would be a good time to pile on to my turmoil? Now?

My pulse throbbed in my throat and I realized that my jaw was clenched painfully tight.

Ya know what? Screw it. Alice can shove her helpful input.

The thoughts stung my throat like bile. Well hell, while I was at it…

Fuck Jessica for her endless supply of dirty looks and whore couture. Fuck Mike and his arrogance and inability to understand the concept of personal space.

Hell, why not throw Edward under the bus, too… for his gorgeousness and for being so intoxicating and alive, and for making me briefly believe that I was capable of giving a shit about him.

Fuck Charlie and his stupid condescending tone and effortless dismissal.

Fuck Renee…

I shook my head, shutting that thought down before it took root.

My eyelids were clamped shut. I pivoted my neck and pressed my cheek into my pillow, feeling the cool silk slide against my skin and I tried to grasp at peace, tried to relax and breathe…but my consciousness was screaming now, shrill and sharp and soundless in the pale moonlight.

Fuck me for letting all of this happen. For being so weak and careless, and for entertaining that idea, even for a second, that I could be a normal person… throw caution to the wind, and just care about things again… and get hurt… fuck THAT. No fucking way… Alice and her talking, and her feelings… why couldn't she just leave me the hell alone, let me get through this and move on… nope, she just had to press me, and now I'm up in the middle of the goddamn night…

Holy shit.

My eyes snapped open. I could see the ghost of my reflection in the round mirror on my vanity; my pupils were glittering points of oynx against a black backdrop.

I'm angry.

I sat up straight. The sheets fell from my shoulders and pooled around my waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on the newly exposed skin, but the crisp night did little to sooth my ire.

I couldn't even remember the last time I was really, truly pissed… about anything. Like so many other things, I simply didn't allow it. I never allowed myself to get passionate about anything anymore, not in years.

But right now, I wasn't just "kind of" mad… I was furious. Seething. I thought daggers, exhaled smoldering embers, tasted acid behind my teeth. My fists were clenched, twisted into the covers. My breath was hard and short and ragged.

Passion like this was dangerous; it was uncontrolled and raw, and led to desires, and vulnerability, and needing… and far too much thinking. I preferred steady logic, cool resolve…

Determination was manageable. Fervor was unpredictable. Unpredictable was unacceptable.

What the fuck does that even mean, Bella? I pressed the heels of my hands to my burning eyes. My bullshit isn't even making sense to me anymore.

What is wrong with me? The question was quickly becoming my mantra, an affirmation that I was broken, drowning…

In a matter of three days, my entire world had gone from following a straight steady path to being out of control on the goddamn freeway. Stuttering, blushing, sweating… and now uncontrolled anger?

Edward.

His name was involuntary, and I groaned into my dark room. I wanted to drum my feet in frustration.

This situation couldn't continue. My rapid decline was undeniably exacerbated by his… well, his existence, I had to figure something out. I had to work with the man on the biggest project of my entire career, for fucksake.

I'm just so tired. I crossed my arms and rested them on my bent knees, laying my forehead flat on damp skin. I was physically tired from the brutal physical stress that I'd forced myself through the last couple of days… but I was also mentally beaten down.

I didn't know how much longer I could fight myself.

It had taken me years to get over this stupid emotional shit, but I'd done it. I'd beaten my silly juvenile instincts to cry uselessly and laugh irrationally, and figured out to how just be. Yet here I was, stupid Bella alone in my room, contemplating my life like some hormonal teenage idiot instead of focusing, like I needed to be doing right now...

I flopped back onto my pillows, deflated. My anger was dissipating, but it was rapidly being replaced with hot, viscous guilt that clogged my stomach and lungs. This rage was probably justified toward Mike and Jessica, and definitely toward Charlie… but Alice didn't deserve it. My Alice loved me and had never done anything but look out for me. The harsh thoughts had been a knee-jerk reaction, and I didn't mean any of it. I did appreciate Alice's candor; the fact was that she cared about me enough to give it to me straight and hard.

"You can be a success at work and have a life," she had said. "You're missing out. On everything."

She'd been so sweet and genuine, and it made me instantly feel even worse for my misdirected irritation.

She just wants to help, and I mentally freak out on her. I sighed.

Worse… what if she's right?

I kicked at my sheets in sheer aggravation. What good does this soul-searching do me, Alice? It's pointless. Regardless of… well, whatever, there is no way out of the corner into which I have painted myself.

Wait. I paused my silent breakdown. Was I in a corner? And did I want out??

Shit.

Let's say, for arguments sake, that I did want to be… different, at work. More approachable. How could that possibly happen? If I went in tomorrow and called everyone by their first name, it would be a shock. Everyone would talk... Angela and Emmett would probably be okay, happy even… but Mike would undoubtedly say something snide. Charlie… oh god, if Charlie heard, I would be mortified. He might publically flog me for my lack of professionalism. Just the thought of all of that attention was enough to make me queasy. And Jessica? She would stare and openly whisper about me to anyone who would listen… maybe even with Edward…

Edward. Him again. The name that would be sweetest on my tongue would be the most difficult to say. He must already think I have multiple personalities. My sudden one-eighty from Professional Ice Queen to Friendly Ol' Bella would all but guarantee his never wanting to be alone with me ever again.

My stomach twisted at the hopelessness of my situation, and my bitter laugh reverberated through my empty room.

The irony was stark, striking. The walls I had constructed so carefully around me to keep everything out felt more like a prison in this moment, keeping me carefully locked away, unscathed and unsatisfied.

Okay, okay, okay. Stop wallowing, Swan. It's non-productive. Focus. I just needed to figure this out…

So I'm here. In the dark. Fuming and alone and cursing my best friend who was never anything but incredible to me. Not exactly my finest hour.

So let's analyze the situation. I felt the familiar detachment slowly cast a shadow, wedging between my mind and reality. I sighed in the dark.

My stress over the Cullen account was, obviously, bringing up some (ugh) "issues" that I needed to address. I'm behaving irrationally, and Edward (my breath hitched at just the thought of his name; of course, I ignored it) is the catalyst for my conduct. I mean, he's an attractive man, and I see him everyday… It's no wonder I have a crush, really.

I could feel my breath starting to slow, my heartbeat returning to its normal rhythm. It was better with rational thinking guiding my thoughts versus some emotionally-driven mania. I felt more like… well, like me. And that's all I had, really.

I actually nodded in the darkness, the first tendril of hope snaking into my stomach. So really, this horribly unstable condition I'm experiencing might not be permanent. The relief was cool and spread through my chest like rolling fog. I'm just making it a big deal because I'm so mixed up about the account. Yeah. That sounds about right.

I looked out the window at the black night, searching, as if the real answer lie beyond the glass. The night was old now, black paint thinned with impending day. The first indications of dawn were felt rather than seen.

Beating myself up for my reactions isn't helping anything. I had to move forward. If I couldn't cure the disease, then I had to manage the symptoms.

I drew in a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut once more. Shit. I knew there was more. The truth was unavoidable:Alice really did have a point and I knew it. I probably did need to live a little… I really will keep that in mind, I her, of course.

But this whole Edward thing… I concluded then that my reactions, my thoughts, my… "feelings" toward him were simply byproducts of my stress level, and I just needed to get past this phase and everything would work itself out eventually.

I knew what I needed to do.

When I saw him next… when my stomach clenches and my cheeks inevitably burn… when his delicious smell makes my mouth water and his green eyes hold mine, and when his very presence caresses my skin like fingertips…

I would acknowledge my reactions and then just move on. If I blush: accept it and continue. If my mind wanders: bring it back. No more dwelling. I needed to concentrate on work, on relaxing, on taking some risks… like Alice had said.

I wrapped myself in convoluted logic like a lover's embrace, my own reason singing me a cheerless lullaby.

Finally, mercifully, I could feel my consciousness starting to slip away.

Acknowledge and move on. I could do that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I grimaced as the bitter liquid slid down my throat. I hated coffee, but I required something stronger than my normal tea. I rubbed my temples in tight circles and once again re-read my meticulous notes.

"Rough night?" Alice eyed the steaming coffee in front of me.

I nodded. "Definitely."

Alice sat down across from me, crossing her legs on the hard kitchen chair. She was staring into her cup, clutching it in both hands and obviously avoiding my eyes. When she finally lifted her gaze to mine, I could see she was upset.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out. "I felt awful all night. I honestly didn't mean to upset you. You know how much I love you, and I just want you to be happy… I'm your best friend and it's my job to tell you the truth… I just…"

"Ali, stop." I shook my head. "Seriously. You definitely do not owe me an apology." I laid my hand on the table, palm up; she hesitated before placing her tiny one in mine. "I thought about it, and… I agree with you." She raised an eyebrow at me, but I continued. "I am missing out on… things. And even though I don't know what this means, I've decided to try and… Open up. Adapt. Live a little, right?"

I winked at her, and she finally gave me a small smile. I hoped it was what she needed to hear. "So I'm sorry I upset you."

She squeezed my hand and took a sip of her coffee. "Shut up. It's too early for this shit."

I chuckled and instantly knew that everything was back to normal. Friendships like ours had forgiveness built-in.

"Hey," she asked, "would you be able to stop by the market today at lunch?"

"Mmmm… I can't, actually." I tapped the open folder on the table next to me. "I have that consult with potential clients this morning, and then I'm meeting with Jasper at three...."

"Oh right, I forgot about the client meeting!" She peered at me from above her mug and rolled her eyes. "Hence the school marm get-up you requested."

I shot her a dirty look and choked down another gulp of brown sludge. Blech.

When I met with possible clients, I preferred to dress… conservatively. I felt that it demonstrated professionalism and maturity. Also, I didn't need to worry about the male clients ogling my tits or the female clients judging my youth.

Alice ignored my exasperation. "So who are meeting? What's the set-up?"

"It's a pair of brothers." I drummed my fingers on the papers I'd been reviewing before she came down. "Sam and Paul Uley. They just purchased a space downtown, and they want to explore the possibility of opening a… frozen yogurt shop."

"Brothers?" Alice cocked her head. "Younger or older?"

"Um…" I check the paperwork. "Fine, upstanding young men, it looks like. They recently inherited some money and decided to give the world of non-fat frozen dairy treats a go…" I looked back up at her. "Why?"

She was already standing. "Well, that changes everything. You are not leaving yet…"

"Alice." I tried to sound stern. "There is NO need for me to change. None. I look fine."

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "That black turtleneck dress screams, 'Hire me, boys.' "

"You picked this out for me!"

"And it looks fabulous! But not for these circumstances." She placed both hands on the table. "Bells, we are both smart, educated women, right?"

My tone was cautious. "Right…"

"And I would say that we are both extremely capable and resourceful… right?"

I sighed. "I would agree."

"Then why wouldn't we choose to use all of the tools at our disposal?" She raised her eyebrows. "All of them?"

"Alice…" I stopped. She was looking at me with big eyes, and she shook her head.

"Start now, Bella. Today is a new day. You said you wanted to open up? Adapt? Step one: stop hiding behind fabric and words. Jump outta that comfort zone."

She was being heartbreakingly sincere, and her apology this morning had been so genuine and unnecessary… and goddammit, I still felt really guilty about my harsh thoughts toward her last night…

Fuck.

I nodded, and she squealed and clapped her hands.

"We're going to fix your hair, too!" she called as she ran down the hall.

Oh hell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam and Paul were pre-occupied, gesturing widely around the room and bickering over where they would put the checkout counter. Their voices boomed and bounced off the walls, communicating with urgent animation that could only happen between siblings. They reminded me of two dark giants in a fairy tale, arguing over which villagers to eat first.

Their appearance had, upon first meeting them, momentarily stunned me: the Uley brothers were both enormously tall and muscled, with caramel colored skin and long jet black hair. I had known that Sam and Paul were Native American and that they had grown up on a reservation on the coast, but what I didn't know was that they were each damn near seven feet tall. Even Emmett would have to look up to them.

As I had suspected from our phone conversations, they were indeed young. However, they were only a year or two younger than my ripe old age of twenty six. Sam was the elder and obviously the leader, but Paul was definitely his own man. Fiery and fierce, I found him a little hard to read. So far, he had been cordial enough, but had yet to warm up to me. Sam, on the other hand, was friendly and talkative from the get-go, and had been throwing me covert looks for the last fifty minutes of our meeting.

Looks like one down, one to go.

I struggled with my feelings of anxiety regarding my own appearance as I spoke at length about what Swan Consulting could do for them. They listened carefully, and I tried desperately not to tug at my hair or fidget with my dipping neckline.

Alice hadn't pulled any punches. I was now wearing my black Dolce & Gabbana two-button jacket and pinstripe pantsuit that had been flawlessly tailored to fit the curve of my waist and breasts and hang over my slim hips and thighs. The purple top Alice had picked out was generous with the skin it revealed, but tasteful nonetheless.

My hair… goddamn it. She had insisted I wear it down, the she-devil.

Cognitive therapy, she'd explained happily as she had slapped my hands away from my bun. You wear your hair up as a crutch. Nothing bad will happen to you if you wear it down. Nothing. Do you think that someone will think less of you if they see how long your hair is? No. So shut the fuck up and let me work.

And so far, she'd been right. The brothers had greeted me with respectfully brief glances, nothing that I wouldn't expect from a pair of healthy young men.

Well… to be honest, than once I turned around a little faster than Sam had obviously anticipated and he had quickly had to reintroduce his eyes to my face from their previous engagement with my ass.

I chose to ignore it; I would berate myself about it later.

Despite my extreme nervousness on the way over here about my attire, I wsa irrationally surprised that their demeanor toward me had been professional, despite my… well, despite my not looking like a nun.

Sam waved his hand at his brother. "Enough, Paul. This is stuff that we can decide later," he said with finality. Paul huffed, but dropped it and walked away. Sam turned toward me. "Besides, if we end up working with Ms. Swan… excuse me, Bella… we can call her anytime of the day and ask her these kinds of banal questions then." He smiled, and his teeth were long and straight. Truth be told, they were both quite handsome men.

I laughed, feeling powerful and in control of the situation. "That's right, Mr. Uley… excuse me, Sam. If we do end up workingtogether, I'd be available to you almost any time of day." I waited.

"Almost?" Paul looked at me, his hesitation thinly veiled. Hhhmm. I still needed to figure out how to connect with him, to open the lines of communication so he could see that I wasn't trying to sell him snake oil.

"Absolutely. Calls in the middle of the night, no problem. But if I'm watching a Mariner's game, my cell phone inexplicably loses all reception. It's bizarre, really."

Paul's eyes instantly lit up.

"You're a Mariner's fan, huh?"

There he is.

Sam laughed. "Now you're speaking Paul's language." He turned toward me. "We had no idea that you were a baseball fan, Ms. Swan."

"Oh yes. I love baseball." I smiled at Paul, and this time he returned it. Got him. "Ever since I was a little girl… Nothing better than a ballgame."

"Paul and I have season tickets," Sam said. "Maybe I can convince Paul to stay home one day and we could catch a game."

I smiled. I'd been half-expecting this. Here we go. "Oh that is so kind of you, Mr. Uley, but in reality I rarely get to watch a game on TV, let alone find the time to get to the park! As your consultant, it's my job to free up time for you so you can go and enjoy the games."

Nice. This was not the first time a potential client had skirted the issue of a quasi-date, but a subtle reminder that I was there as a consultant typically did the trick.

"Dinner, then."

Uh oh.

I slowly turned back toward Sam. Paul rolled his eyes and meandered toward the front door, putting space between us. Sam stood still, watching me from high above, a small smile playing in his face. He was serious.

Goddamn it Alice. My torso constricted with cold panic. I was tense and guilty, feeling horrible. This is why I can't dress like this. This is why I do what I do, why I act how I act… Adapt my ass! Shit shit shit.

I laughed softly, trying hard not to let my tone betray my nervousness. The rational part of me, for once, was a little louder than my screaming fear: Sam's tone was gentle and sincere, not intimidating or possessive. There was no Mike-like arrogance in his tone; Sam was just a nice young man who was showing interest the in wrong woman.

"Thank you very much for the offer, Mr. Uley," I kept my voice low; I didn't want Paul to hear so as to spare Sam any embarrassment, "but once again, I will have to politely decline."

The air between us was suddenly flavored with that special variety of awkward that existed after a denial. I stole a glance at my watch, and thank jesus our time was up.

I cleared my throat. "If neither one of you have no further questions, I should be getting back to the office." My plastic smile was up, shielding me from my discomfort. "I hope I've given you a lot to think about." I smiled at Paul, and then Sam, who was looking repentant. "I sincerely hope that we can work together."

Paul nodded, gifting me with another grin. I felt infinitesimally better that I hadn't completely ruined things with fifty percent of the men in the room.

"Well gentleman, I'll look forward to your call."

Sam walked me out. My embarrassment was staining scarlet on neck, and I would have given anything to have that mother effing turtleneck back on.

"Ms. Swan…"

"Bella, please." I took a deep breath and turned to look up at him, my plastic smile still molded on my features. I knew that I needed to stay cool to lock in this client, and my professionalism was currently beating out my humiliation. But oh god, I know I look completely inappropriate, the breeze is licking the skin of my naked collarbone and please just let me go….

"I apologize for my behavior. I honestly didn't mean any disrespect toward you…" He rubbed the back of his neck with a huge hand. "My brother and I are very interested in working with you, and I sincerely hope my awkward, impulsive offer didn't ruin our chances."

Suddenly, Sam looked very, very young. I could tell that he was heartfelt in his apology.

A possibility occurred to me then, striking my brain like lightening. Maybe… maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. Sam was young and he took a chance… and I couldn't exactly blame him for that, could I?

Maybe… this incident… wasn't my fault?

"Of course not, Mr. Uley… Sam. I am still hopeful that the Uley brothers and I will have a long and happy business relationship... but of course, that's up to you and your brother." I smiled up at him… and it was real.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." Sam laughed, obviously still a little embarrassed. "I couldn't help myself. You just seemed so…" He paused and peered down at me, his black eyes apologetic and bashful.

"… fun."

"Fun? Me?" The words escaped me before I could rein them in. "That's… that is interesting."

Sam laughed. "Yes, fun. Is that so hard to believe?"

The wind made my hair dance around my face, and I smoothed the strands behind my ear. "Yes, actually." I blushed deeper crimson, but Sam just laughed again.

"Well… it's true."

The silence between us was still awkward, but now it was oddly pleasant, too. We both laughed at the same time, filling the space. Sam coughed, "Okay. I've embarrassed myself enough. I'll speak with my brother, and I'm sure we will be calling you very soon." He opened my door for me, and waved as I pulled away.

In the privacy of my own car, I heaved a great sigh.

See? It's okay, Bella… Your life was momentarily unpredictable, but the world didn't end.

That was unexpected.

That was wildly inappropriate.

That was… not entirely terrible.

Shit.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To my utter amazement, the ride back to the office didn't consist of me rebuking myself for my inexcusable behavior. Yes, Sam's attention had been improper. But could it have still happened in the turtleneck dress? Well… absolutely it could have.

I had done something differently… and I had lived. I was still a professional, still respectful, still alive. It actually turned out a little more than okay. Hell, I was even called fun, which is a verb I wouldn't use to describe myself in a million years. I decided to take it as a compliment.

It seems that I can't control everything.

Progress.

Alice would be doing back handsprings right now.

As the elevator doors slid open to the lobby of Swan Consulting Firm, I felt good. Confident. Brave. I even gave Jessica a smile as I walked by her desk; she returned it with a confused sneer. It only fueled my good mood, and I was ready to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hours later, I was on fire with the Cullen presentation. I was almost completely finished my budgeting estimates, projected finish dates, and contractor proposals. My spreadsheets were done and already in the editing stage. The written report was also coming along nicely. I allowed myself a moment to admire my work.

I really think this is going to seal the deal, I thought with satisfaction. Hell, I'd commit millions of dollars to these numbers. Damn fine day so far, Swan.

Ding.

I clicked open my Outlook and saw one unread message from… Edward Masen.

My stomach fluttered ridiculously. I had been expecting his email, though I had been trying not to think about it... Every three minutes…

He'd never emailed me before, and I knew that he was over at Billy Black's office right now.

That's enough Bella. My thoughts were firm, and I immediately squashed my foolish pride. Its one thing to acknowledge you're having a good day, but quite another to get excited over an email.

I pushed my bangs back behind my ear as I stared at the screen.

Good afternoon, Ms. Swan.

I hope the day finds you well.

Mr. William Black says to say hello to you. (I wasn't aware that you and he were so well acquainted.)

I have attached my files regarding the Cullen account. Please let me know if they are satisfactory. I would be more than happy to make any changes you think are necessary. I will be in this afternoon if you need me to make any revisions… or for anything else.

Sincerely,

Edward Masen

I immediately opened the attachment and skimmed his work. I wasn't surprised to find that it was flawless. Spreadsheets were organized and neat, data was well-presented. The power point presentation was dynamite, and I couldn't believe he had come up with it in just two days. He really was talented with a mouse… I wonder if he's talented with anything else…

Ugh. Gag me, Bella. Acknowledge and move on.

Moving on.

I was very pleased to get the greeting from Billy Black. Like so many other people in my life, I hadn't seen Billy in months.

Billy and his wife were old family friends. Billy had started up his law firm around the same time that Charlie had begun Swan Consulting, and in my youth I remembered sharing many, many dinners with the Blacks.

However, after my mother was gone, the Blacks had come around much less. I always figured it was because they were uncomfortable, or maybe it was because Charlie stopped giving a shit about anything that wasn't related to work. It made sense that since they had become clients of ours, Billy and my father had been seeing each other more often. I'd even heard Angela mention scheduled dinners with my father and Billy… perhaps even in a friendly, outside-of-the-office way.

I wondered if Charlie… enjoyed time with Billy. It was odd thinking of him doing anything other than scowling. Charlie didn't seem to really enjoy anything anymore.

Wait a second…

I quickly re-read Edward's mail. I had known that Edward was at Black & Clearwater today, but… how exactly had I come up in conversation? Why were Billy and Edward talking about me?

My cheeks blushed pink as I quickly went through the possibilities in my head, all of which were completely plausible and innocent. Billy was wishing my family hello, not necessarily me specifically. Edward was emailing me the reports anyway so he politely passed the greeting along to me. That's the most likely, I thought.

Or… maybe Edward was talking to Billy about our joint presentation on Friday, and Billy had mumbled, "Oh, Isabella? Please tell her hello for me," as he concentrated on some important document. He probably barely registered my name. This is also highly probable.

But… what if I had been brought up in a different context? Possibly… not work-related?

Who would have broached the subject, and what on earth could have been said?

I rolled my eyes at my own childishness. Okay. Get a hold of yourself, Bella. That's a little egotistical. They were talking about business, nothing more. I'm a Swan in Swan Consulting, I'm bound to come up occasionally.

I channeled Alice and began typing out a response before my brain could over-think it to death.

Hello, Mr. Masen,

My afternoon has been very productive, thank you for asking.

I stopped. That is exactly what I did to Jasper yesterday, and he had been right to call me on it. I deleted the line and started again.

I am well. Thank you for asking.

Better.

The Blacks are indeed old family friends. Please pass my regards along to Mr. Black for me.

Your reports are more than satisfactory, and I thank you for getting them to me so quickly. If you have no objections, I will work on combining them into one presentation. I will be sure to consult with you for the final draft.

Thank you,

Bella Swan

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I doubted that he knew I even went by "Bella." I don't know what possessed me to write it. In my career, I had always gone by "Isabella Swan." It was on my business cards, my name plate, even in the company directory. But now, with him… I didn't want him to think of Isabella Swan when he saw my face.

I wanted Edward to know Bella.

It was a small, tiny, itty bitty baby step, and I could almost guarantee he wouldn't even notice it. But it was a step, nonetheless. I figured that Alice might see that as progress… I'd be sure to tell her later.

I hit send and tried not to worry about it again for the rest of the afternoon… and for the most part, I succeeded.

More progress.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ms. Swan?"

Angela was standing by my desk. I realized in horror that I had been staring out the window at the grey Wednesday afternoon for who knows how long, tapping my pen absentmindedly on a blank notepad.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Ms. Weber." I was immediately embarrassed. I swallowed the panic that automatically rose in my throat at being caught not working. Relax, Bella. There are bigger sins, right?

I smiled at her. "I was a million miles away. Can I help you?"

Angela smiled back at me. "Um… yes. Mr. Jasper Whitlock is here to see you." I turned my head toward the front of the room and saw Jasper standing at Jessica's desk, shuffling his portfolio bag and trying desperately to avoid the curious conversation that she was trying to instigate.

Jasper waved to me enthusiastically. With very little surprise, I noted that Jasper was wearing a deep purple blazer over plaid dress pants and was sporting a dapper white bowtie. He was earning odd looks from my some of my colleagues, but I thought he looked beautiful.

Jasper was the exact opposite of Ms. Swan: loose and free and joyful.

My co-workers must think I'm a pod-person.

"Thank you so much. Would you please send him back here?" She nodded and walked up to Jasper, gesturing politely in my direction. I stood up as he approached.

"Hey, Bella!" His voice rang clear and deep through the expanse of the room. The air in the room froze stiff, and every head in the whole place seemed to turn directly to me. I thought Mike was going to be launched out of his seat from centrifugal force, due to the speed with which he spun himself around to face us.

I swallowed the unfounded anxiety that bubbled in my chest. I had a name. I supposed that it was time everyone heard it.

Jasper laid his portfolio bag on the floor and in one quick motion wrapped me in a big bear hug, lifting me off the floor. I was so glad to see him. I fought and won over the instinct to stiffen in his arms, and instead relaxed in his embrace and softly patted him on the back. I caught a glimpse of Mike over Jasper's shoulder—he wasn't even attempting to hide his gawking stare. I smirked into Jasper's neck. Trust me, Mike, I'm surprised at me too.

"Thank you so much for coming." He set me gently down and I gestured to the seat next to my desk. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too." Jasper sat down. He openly appraised me from head to pointed heel. "You look fucking amazing, by the way." I rolled my eyes. He laughed. "Ha! There's my blush. Gotcha."

As unconventional as Jasper's personality was, his looks were classically handsome: tall and lean, with steel grey eyes and long curly blonde hair that grew out instead of down. He had a scar above his left eye that ran into his eyebrow and quirked it upward, making him look eternally mischievous.

"Nice digs, Swan." He nodded appreciatively. "Weird to see your name on the sign, though."

I scoffed. "That's my father's name on the door, Jazz. My name isn't on anything, yet." I sat down at my desk next to him, grinning like an idiot. I'd never had one of my close friends come to the office to see me before, not even Alice. His familiar, soothing presence made the entire room seem completely different. Smaller, perhaps. More comfortable. Maybe I was finally experiencing that atmosphere that designer had charged us thousands of dollars to create.

We took some time to catch up, filling each other in on what had been going on for the past few months. I didn't really have a whole lot to share, but Jasper described to me, quite sincerely, about how he had recently learned how to knit his own socks, he had read some information that make him sincerely question the moon landing, and that he was toying with the idea of buying an alpaca. Jasper's mind was a bit like the ocean: expansive, constantly moving, and teeming with activity. I just did my best to follow along, all the while stifling my laughter and trying desperately to remain professional.

Jasper sighed and drummed his long fingers on the chair. "Well, hell, stop distracting me, Bells. Let's get down to business, shall we?" Jasper reached into his portfolio bag and pulled out a large folder, which he laid on my desk with a flourish. "Since someone only gave me twenty-four hours to work on this, let's hope it's to your standards."

As he organized the drawings on my desktop, I felt a low current lick the nape of my neck.

I stole a glance around the room, and sure enough, there he was. He was striding past Jessica's desk and toward the IT desks, long legs . My heart immediately soared at the sight of impossible hair and broad shoulders.

Acknowledge and the move on, Bella?

I quickly refocused on my lanky friend next to me. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed my momentary distraction.

Jasper proceeded to show me what he had come up with for the Cullen's expansion campaign. I was floored. Jazz had taken our short conversation yesterday about the direction that the company wanted to take and had turned it in to something extraordinary. Every aspect of what he had done, from the new logo to the theme print campaign, was absolutely perfect. By the time he was finished, I was practically bouncing in my seat.

"Jasper, I cannot tell you how excited you have made me. This is going to blow them away."

He smiled broadly, obviously pleased. "Do you really think so?"

I raised my eyebrows and nodded ardently. "Jasper, you know how serious I am about business and my career." He rolled his eyes and blew out a gentle ha! I let it slide. "This client is the biggest the company has ever had on the line, let alone me personally. I wouldn't bring anything to the table that I didn't' think was the very best I could possibly find. And this, Jazz," I tapped the papers he had placed on my desk, "this is the best I could ever find."

Jasper shook his head, but his smile never left his face. "Well, I thank you my dear, but I won't get my hopes up until I see the signature on the check."

I laughed at him, pushing away from the desk. Our meeting had run much longer than we had intended. It was past five o'clock now, so the main room was nearly empty.

"So," he drawled, his lazy words betraying his Texas roots, "when is this crazy-important meeting?" He stood, taking his notes and shoving them back in his bag.

"Friday." I stood up as well, leaning on my desk and looking up at him. "We have one more day to pull this thing together."

"Well, if you do even half as well as I know you are capable, I will be buying you a congratulatory drink this Friday night."

"Ha! Darn right you'll be buying me a drink. An ad campaign for a client this large would bump you up into the next tax bracket, love." His eyes widened slightly. I laughed again. "Maybe that will finally convince you to let me make you the top graphic arts firm in Seattle. You can pay me in microbrews and Pad Thai."

He shook his head slowly, his grey eyes unfocused. I could tell that he wasn't saying no, but rather just letting the possibilities shift and settle into his colorful head. I really hoped he would let me, but I wouldn't push him anymore. For now.

Jasper clicked the buckle closed on this portfolio bag and looked at me, his face sincere. "Bella… thank you. I really mean it."

I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "No Jazz. Thank you, for being such a great friend. I know that I haven't always given you the same courtesy." I swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "I don't intend to let you fade out of my life again." My words were heartfelt. Once again, Alice's words came back to me:

You're missing out. On everything.

I was starting to remember.

Jasper shook his head and chuckled. "Bells, I've never been out of your life. But I appreciate it. You can start by actually showing up at the bar when we say we are going to meet for drinks." Ouch. I had done that, too.

"Deal." I linked my arm through his and walked him up to the elevators. Jessica was already long gone for the day, and we were alone in the lobby. He leaned over and touched my shoulder, brotherly and warm.

"You'll do great, Bella. You don't know how to do it any other way." He kissed my cheek before turning toward the elevators. I waved as the shiny doors slid shut.

I turned back to the empty room, my eyes automatically seeking. They swiftly found their prize.

He was sitting at his desk, his suit jacket causally slung over the back of his chair. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up, revealing marble forearms. His head was angled down, but he wasn't looking at his monitor.

Edward was staring straight at me, from under bronze eyelashes.

Wild electricity pulsed through my body, squeezed my lungs, gripped my hips with invisible hands. A strong pull tugged at the base of my spine, trying to nudge me toward him.

I resisted.

Stop it now. Move on. At least move, for godsake.

Somehow, my feet carried me back to my chair. I sat heavily and looked down at the drawings that Jasper had left for me. I had meant what I had said; they were absolutely brilliant. I had wanted to bring something to the Cullens that would really "wow" them, and Jasper may have just sealed this deal for me. I was eager to put it all together with the rest of the presentation.

I paused for a moment, but knew my hesitation was futile—of course I was going to stay late and start the project. Alice was training her own client tonight, so I could work as late as I wanted, excuse-free.

I hadn't even had time to wave away my screensaver when I felt him approach my desk.

I braced myself, mentally blocking myself from my physical reactions to his proximity. I just had to resist, simple as that.

His smell hit me then, tanned leather and undeniably male. My tongue dragged across my lips, half expecting to lick sticky honey.

Edward pushed one sleeve, then the other higher on his arm, his hand sliding over solid skin. I pressed my own palm flat on the cool mahogany and dully wished it was firm flesh and bronze hair, slick with sweat from a night run.

Expense reports. Huge client. Chance of a lifetime. Move ON, Swan.

"Shouldn't you be going home?" He spoke softly, and my breath to caught in my throat. Even an innocent question in that voice made me feel drunk and dizzy.

My mind was blank. I nodded, grasping at the ability to vocalize, something to say to him, anything to fill the sizzling silence.

"I could ask you the same thing."

A playful smirk twitched on his face. "I was just finishing up, actually. I've been editing the power point presentation for our meeting on Friday." He paused. "I wondered if you had a chance to take another look at my tech specs for the Cullens? I just wanted to make sure it was still satisfactory."

Definite lack of satisfaction right here.

I felt my cheeks being to burn. My head nodded, finally acknowledging his question.

"I did, yes. Thank you so much for getting those to me." I stuttered for a moment. "They are more than satisfactory. You are very… prompt."

Shakespeare himself couldn't have written a more polished sonnet, you ass.

His crooked smile seared into my brain, further destroying my ability to articulate.

Shit. Stop smiling at me so I can acknowledge you and move on.

"Great, I'm glad to hear it. We're still on for our meeting tomorrow, then?"

I nodded again.

I must look like an effing bobblehead.

"Of course. I… I have you scheduled in my calendar." Oh god. Shut up shut up.

He turned his head to look out the window. The sky outside was dark and moonless; his face was illuminated by the buildings and life below us.

As ran his hand through his tousled hair, my fingers increased their pressure on the hard desktop.

"It looks like your last meeting ran long."

A thrill ran through my stomach. He was conversing with me, and I was desperately trying to relax and follow along. The desire to connect with him was sudden and unexpected.

I nodded and cleared my throat. If I nod one more time, I swear to god I will kick my own ass.

"Yes." Well, better than nodding.

"That was my graphic designer, Jasper Whitlock."

Edward didn't saying anything in response. His gaze found mine once again, his hair wild, his cheeks shadowed. If I were standing, I think my legs might have given out. "He came up with an amazing campaign for the Cullens." Still no response. I wondered if he were waiting for something. I continued uncertainly, "And… I think they're going to love it." I looked down at the drawings, futilely hoping I wasn't as red as I knew I was.

Edward remained quiet. The silence stretched between us. I kept my hands flat and stiff, resisting the urge to sweep my bangs across my forehead. He finally spoke.

"Is he a… close… friend of yours?" His question was quiet, innocuous. My eyes snapped up to meet his. They revealed nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to warrant my racing heart. His face was as passive as ever, betraying nothing of what he was thinking of feeling.

"Yes. Jasper and I have been friends for years. He's one of my dearest." I spoke quietly, watching Edward's face. His expression never changed.

"He's in love with my best friend Alice," I blurted.

I gasped silently and my face instantly burned with humiliation. My outburst sounded like a confession, and was so completely inappropriate for the moment. What is wrong with me?

His response was immediate, shocking.

"Good."

My inhalation was sharp. The space between us was pregnant, motionless. Briefly, his face revealed a fleeting expression, but it was gone before I could register it fully. Probably my poor, overworked imagination.

"It's good that you have such a talented friend." His relaxed crooked smile was back, brushing away the thin tension in the air. My brain felt like it had a fine layer of fuzz covering it. I struggled mentally, trying to put up the wall that I so desperately needed around me to keep him out, keep him away. I needed to breath.

I fought to take back control of my thoughts. "Talented is an understatement." I touched the top page of Jasper's papers. I saw Edward look down, watching my fingers as they traced the lines. He cocked his head, trying to see them right-side up. Once again, my two-timing lips spewed sound before I could edit my thoughts.

"Would you like to see them?" I struggled for a reason. "I mean, you will be presenting this, too."

Please come closer. Dammit.

Edward smiled at me then, genuine and perfect. "Sure, thank you."

He moved around the desk toward me, stopping just over my left shoulder. He placed his left hand on my desk, splaying his long fingers out wide, inches from my own frozen fingers. His other hand came to rest on the top of my chair, just behind my unbound curls. His firm flesh blazed hot; I felt him through my jacket and blouse and lace bra, burning me.

He leaned down. My mouth watered.

I reeled, feeling pressure spinning and bubbling in my chest. I prayed that he couldn't hear my heart; I knew that the temperature from my burning cheeks had to be radiating heat and pure arousal. The room suddenly felt small and dark and alive.

So I'm definitely acknowledging. Where is the moving on?

I tried to shut down, bracing my mind firmly against the barrier I was struggling to construct between his body and mine.

"Jasper really is quite brilliant," I babbled. "I gave him just a vague idea of what I had in mind, and he ran with it…" I showed him Jazz's drawings, shuffling through the pages and explaining the ideas. I spoke far too rapidly at first, but quickly began to feel more in-control while speaking about work. My voice grew stronger, my words more coherent. When we reached the last page I trailed off, and suddenly I was gripped again by the situation: his proximity, my exposed collarbone and my hidden black lace panties, our quickened breathing.

He was silent for a moment, studying over the papers. I couldn't move. His warmth enveloped me, still and silent. Then, slowly, he turned his head and his breath touched my cheek, and oh god it was sweet and cool against my inflamed skin...

"You're doing it again."

I twisted my head. His voice, his body, his heat were all around me, consuming, pulling, wrenching. For what felt like the hundredth time in a few days, his green eyes locked with mine. His face was less than a foot away.

Another chunk of the wall chipped away.

"Doing what?" I was breathless. Goddammit. Get… get a hold… of… uh…

"Being too modest." His eyes roamed my face. I caught a glimpse of tongue and teeth through parted lips. "You are incredibly talented yourself. I've seen you do some impressive things."

The rest of the world felt very far away. I found myself staring at his lower lip. "No," I said softly, "this was Jasper's creation."

I realized then, helplessly, I can't stay here. I don't know what's going to happen… I can't control this.

"You flatter me, though." I breathed in his scent; it made my head swim.

He stared. "I like seeing you smile." His eyes flickered down to my mouth for a moment before coming back and capturing my eyes. "You don't smile enough, Ms. Swan."

Call me Bella. Please.

It wasn't a passive request, but rather a desperate plea that echoed between my ears. My lips parted, my tongue darted out and it found salt and confusion. Words threatened to slip through my fumbling grip; the fucking gap between us ached to be bridged.

Harsh light spilled into the room.

Edward stood up quickly, his hands leaving my desk and chair back. My hands instantly flew to my bangs, sweeping across reddened skin. My body was dotted with pinpoints of cold where his heat had been.

Charlie's form filled the doorway to his office, filling the space around us and sucking the breath straight from my torso. He looked back to where we were, visibly surprised. His brow furrowed.

"Bella? Mr. Masen?" He closed the door to his office and locked it with a click. "Working late?"

My mouth opened and shut, gulping like a fish. Nothing came out. No cool, professional words, no smooth explanation.

Edward had stolen those, too.

A cold swell of panic spread along my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms.

What just happened? What did Charlie see? Oh god… what did I think I was doing?

What was I doing?

"Ms. Swan and I were going over the material for the Cullen presentation." Edward's voice was easy and unhurried. "We are meeting tomorrow to finalize the information, but I was eager to see what the graphic designer had come up with during their meeting this afternoon. I didn't realize it was so late." He laughed casually. I studied my father silently.

Charlie stood silent for a moment, shifting his gaze between the two of us. He finally nodded.

"I trust that you'll do a fine job on Friday, Mr. Masen." Charlie nodded to him curtly, and Edward turned and walked back toward his desk, not sparing a glance in my direction. I continued to watch my father. Waiting.

Finally, hardened brown met mine, but only for a moment before he smoothed his coat over his arm. "Bella, shouldn't you be getting home? I'm sure Alice will be waiting."

The familiar pang of hurt blossomed in my chest, but luckily I was much more practiced at pushing away that particular sensation than I was with dealing the reactions that Edward had elicited from me. Instantaneously, my protective wall was back up, solid and secure.

"I have some work I need to finish up, Mr. Swan." My voice sounded like mine again: hard, tight. The breathiness was gone. Out of my corner of my eye, I thought I saw Edward's head jerk toward me slightly.

"Yes, well." He didn't finish his thought. My father looked back to Edward. "Mr. Masen, shall I walk you out?"

Edward turned back to me. "Will you be alright, Ms. Swan?" His eyes were inquiring; jade points of light searching my face.

"Of course, Mr. Masen. I believe we're all done here." I didn't look at him, but rather stared fixedly down at Jasper's papers, shuffling them into a neat stack.

"Mr. Swan," I said with finality.

Edward walked with Charlie through the lobby. I kept my head down and my shaking hands busy as they both climbed into the elevator together.

Even from across the room, I felt his attentive gaze. I felt it in my shoulders, in my thighs, in the tips of my ears and between my legs.

In the last few seconds I had with him, I straightened my shoulders and returned his stare. I did not to look away, did not care if Charlie saw. The pull flared hot, intense and vivid, burning my throat.

I was consumed by an irrational desire jump up, to run to the elevator… to thrust out my arm and stop the doors, to ignore Charlie's wide, judging eyes and grab him by the collar and yank him back out… to crush his warmth to me…

I just… I wanted… to be near him for another moment.

So stupid. I had to laugh at myself. Even if I did it, this insane fantasy, I knew full well that I would have no idea of what to do with him if I actually did have him pressed against me...

I sighed. Oh yes I do.

The doors slid shut, severing the connection.

I sat alone at my desk, trembling and unfulfilled.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alice couldn't stop smiling.

"Knock it off." I said miserably. I chewed popcorn mechanically, trying not to taste. I had a nagging craving to lick, not chew… and besides, I craved the texture of skin on my tongue— it was the wrong kind of salt and heat. My senses were confused, along with the rest of me. I'd pretended to be normal today, and had failed miserably.

Pathetic.

"I acted like such a fool. This morning I was prideful… stupid… I let myself relax. I was negligent. A complete unprofessional. I stuttered and couldn't think…" My head flopped back onto Alice's pillow. "But he smelled so damn good…"

Alice's pillow rustled as she turned to look me. We were both lying in her bed, watching the Mariners game on our DVR. They were playing San Francisco and the score was tied four and four; Alice and I normally watched the Mariners with rapt attention, but I had been distracted and unable to focus. Big shocker, given my behavior lately.

"You smelled him?" She was trying to keep a straight face, but she was doing a terrible job.

I groaned in response, pressing a pillow over my head. I felt her roll over on her side.

"Something is… different, today."

"Yup, sure is. Two days ago I was a sane, logical woman. Today, I'm throwing my career away and losing my mind." I removed the pillow and rolled over to face her. She was so damn perceptive it was scary. "Different how?"

Alice was smiling widely now. She shrugged nonchalantly. "Never mind."

"Alice, dammit."

"Bella." Her blue eyes sparkled. Alice generated a different kind of energy than Edward; where he simmered and smoldered, she buzzed and bubbled. She constantly existed on the verge of exploding. She was child-like and alive, her cheeks rosy.

"We have listened to each other talk about our day, almost every day, for the past seven years. However, truth be told, it's usually hard for me to hear. You are normally incredibly hard on yourself: you could have focused more, you let yourself get distracted, you need to work harder tomorrow… You never acknowledge how amazing you are. You're too busy not feeling anything."

"But today, Bella… you are feeling something. That's why you're so confused, love. You're letting yourself really feel something again. And whether it's due to this guy or the Cullens or the fucking man in the moon, I want to buy them all a drink." She looked so happy… I was anything but. This was the second time in as many days that our discussion had taken such a serious tone about how I was living my life.

"Jesus, Alice."

Her eyebrows lifted. "What?"

I twisted the pillow roughly in my hand. Quietly, I said, "I thought I could do this. Just this morning, I thought I had it all figured out… but I didn't. Am I losing it? And am I that fucking messed up?"

Alice sat up on her bed and crossed her legs. She looked at the lavender wallpaper behind my head, considering her words. Alice was passionate, animated, a wholehearted liver of life… but she was also very deliberate with her words. I tried to be patient as I watched her thought-process play out on her expressive face.

"Do you remember the first night that we met?" she began. "While we were laughing hysterically and soaking wet, I knew I would love you forever. You were witty and fun, and scary smart. You never backed down from anything. To this day, the times when I want to relax and maybe make an easy decision, you always push me and make me apply myself."

"But Bells, after your Mom was really gone..." I flinched, but let no trace of discomfort cross my features. "… You went through a change. Those wonderful facets of your personality were still there, but you focused all of your energy into one concept: succeeding. You developed this notion that if you were actually having fun and enjoying yourself, somehow that meant you weren't working hard enough. Your happiness… it became directly proportionate to whether you had been successful enough for the given day."

I felt like I was sinking. Everything was changing so rapidly… Everything I thought I knew, felt or refused feel…

I hadn't asked for this.

Alice was saying things that I hadn't really wanted to think about for a long time. I wasn't expecting this conversation again tonight.

I suddenly really needed to go running.

Alice continued gently, oblivious to the flight response coursing through my veins. "But you're never successful enough. You measure yourself against these impossible standards that you have created… and as a result, you are never happy. So to not think about how supposedly 'inferior' you are, you numb yourself, either through running or just by sheer determination... which in itself is pretty incredible," she mused.

By all intents and purposes, Alice was my only family. And hearing this from her… hearing the truth about me and my loneliness, my weakness, my insanity… a wave of sadness enveloped me. I struggled mutely, my heart twisting and convulsing.

Crying wasn't an option. I hadn't cried in almost seven years, and I had no intention of doing so now, over this. But my lungs felt tight, and I felt myself getting dangerously close to welling up.

The need to move was gaining intensity.

"But Bella, something is happening to you now." Her tone was tender. She smiled her luminous grin, her bright eyes shining at me with the tears that I denied myself. "Maybe this new client is the push that you needed. And Edward Masen… he's making you think about things that you have avoided for a long time. I hear it in your voice. You might not see it now… but this is a good thing, or at least the beginning of a good thing. Not something to be quashed and chalked up to weakness."

She finished simply, "I can just feel it: your life is about to change."

We looked at each other for a while longer. I knew that Alice could feel my churning thoughts, sense my tension. She patted my hair and laid back down, her smile lingering on her lips. She cast her eyes back to the television.

I got up slowly, dazed and blinking. I quietly shut her door behind me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I lost track of time after an hour and a half. My feet beat callously on the cold ground. It was late and I was alone; the long lawns were hidden in the darkness, lying outside of the harsh circles of light cast by the streetlights.

I was distraught.

I always depended on running to make me calm. My muscles would scream and protest and I'd push and push and eventually my mind would give way to the monotonous hum, welcome as an old friend, or a known-lover, and everything would just fade away.

But now, even as my lungs felt fit to burst, Alice's words continued to echo in the night in front of me. I just couldn't find the silence.

I knew she was right, about all of it. I was proving her point right now.

I felt the fight leaving my body with every exhalation of hot breath. My thoughts spiraled chaotically behind my eyes.

I couldn't keep doing this.

A part of me had known all along that the existence I created couldn't survive. That I would crack wide open and everything I had dammed up would come rushing out of me. But why now? Why at the turning point of my career, and not any other time in my apparently otherwise-meaningless existence?

And what the fuck was I looking for, in a vaguely familiar neighborhood, in the middle of the night?

Really, Bella, why bother with lying anymore?

It was painfully obviously how weak I was, because I was well-aware of where I was… and what I was really looking for to calm my reeling mind.

It wasn't my numbness that I sought.

It was a glimpse of a damp white t-shirt and wild bronze hair.

And once again, I trudged home – confused, and feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

I am getting really fucking tired of this.

So I pretty much can't believe it, but there is an actual Twilighted thread for THIS story. *jawdrop* The lovely nicnicd did it, because she's the shit.

http://www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=5250

And to the 54 of you that have put this story on alert: just, gah. Thank you SO much for even reading this thing, let alone liking it enough to care when the next chapter goes up. You guys are awesome.

-ahealthyaddiction