A/N: It's Becky, bitchezzzzzz!!!

I kid, I kid. I'm back. Miss me? I sure missed all of you!

Just a little shout out to Now It's Overhead, Mono, This Will Destroy You, Atreyu, Killswitch Engage, and Thrice for helping me write this.

Many of you may have forgotten during the ridiculous break I took, but this where we left off:

Just then, Leah and Emily walked in and spotted Edward talking to me. Leah's eyes narrowed and she shoved the paper food bag she was carrying into Emily's arms before she stomped over in our direction. My eyes widened as I tried to stop the train wreck in progress, knowing Edward was about to get the reaming of his life from Mother Tigress Leah.

"Um, Edward? You should probably play dead...or something," I tried to warn.

EPOV

A very angry, very intimidating Leah was currently stampeding her way through the tattoo shop, likely to behead me as quickly as possible. She made me tremble a little, truth be told.

Bella looked like she wanted to dive for cover, but she stepped in front of me before Leah could reach me. She held up her hands in a calming gesture, but that didn't stop Leah from reaching around Bella to claw at the air in front of my face. "You sonofafuckingdicksuckingdouchejockeymotherfucker!" she snarled.

Whoa, there. Just, whoa. Steve had stopped the gun and I was able to stand up and tower over both Leah and Bella. Bella must have thought I was going to get into it, because suddenly she slapped a hand in the middle of my chest and pushed Leah back with the other one. Miss Psycho-Sailor Mouth and I were now pushed as far apart as Bella could get us.

"Hey, now," I began. "Let's leave my mother out of this."

Leah looked like she was about to bust a vein. I felt Bella's hand begin to sweat against my bare chest. I looked down at her and arched an eyebrow. "Do you really think I'm gonna attack your little friend with the filthy language?" I asked her.

Bella looked straight in my eyes and dropped her hands. Unfortunately, her friend took that as an opportunity to smack me across the face. I felt a massive sting as my head jerked in response. Bella shouted and pushed Leah's arms down to her sides."You deserved that, you fucking asshole! How dare you treat Bella like that at your own fucking show? You think you're so fucking tough, douche bag? Well, let's just see how tough you are when you aren't surrounded by all your pansy-ass brothers! Wait til I tell Jake what you did!" she shouted at me.

Bella shut her friend up with one scary expression. "No one, and I repeat, no one is going to tell Jake about this. Got it?" she ordered with a tone of absolute authority on pain of death. Both Leah and Emily nodded solemnly.

Thomas and Steve both got up and frowned at Bella and Leah. "Listen, you two, I know you ladies come in here a lot, but I can't have any of this fucking drama in here. Either you need to chill, or you need to take this outside. Don't make me throw you out," Steve warned in a tone that brooked no argument.

I still hadn't said anything at this point, because Leah was right. I'd taken an opportunity to attack Bella in a situation that was in my favor: with my band at my show. I'd been a dick because I knew I could get away with it. It was highly unlikely I would have done anything like that with Jake and all of Bella's other friends around.

Then again, I'd obviously not been thinking straight last night. Attacking Bella through a song while onstage with my clueless band mates wasn't something I'd ever thought I would do, and yet I had. I didn't know what it was about this girl, because honestly, I'd encountered plenty of people like her through working for Conservative issues in the past few years; it wasn't like Bella was the first bleeding heart lib I've come across.

So why did this girl make me so angry all the time? Why did she make me so mad that I could forget who I was?

It was like I just lost all control over myself whenever I was around her, and that just wasn't good.

Not good at all.

And besides...my face hurt like a total bitch right now.

BPOV

I passed Leah off to Emily and they left with one last spiteful glare at Tony. I apologized to both Steve and Thomas before turning back to Tony to assess the damage.

Leah was left-handed, and on that hand she sported a nice, sharp ring. Tony's face had a huge red mark with a cut right in the middle. I watched as he raised his hand to pat at his cheek gingerly. I winced when he winced and turned to Steve. "Can I use something to put on his cheek, Steve?" I asked.

Steve nodded and handed me a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. I looked at Tony and said, "Sit."

He obeyed without argument, which surprised me. He still looked dazed after the vicious tornado that was Leah. I gently turned his cheek and examined it closely. I prodded here and there and flinched whenever he flinched. When I was done, I dabbed at the cut with the cotton ball and blew on it softly before stepping back to give him some space.

There was no doubt about it; Tony was a hot piece of muscle. His chest was perfectly toned and sexy as hell with ink in a few places. I'd had to swallow the drool while holding him back just a few minutes before. If there was anything hotter than a guy with a sexy chest covered in tattoos, I'd love to see it, but I really doubted there ever could be anything sexier than that.

Was it getting hot in here, or was it just him?

Fuck. I needed to get out of here before I did something really stupid, like feed fuel to the crush that had died an agonizing death when I met Tony's asshole alter ego. "Um, so...I guess I'd better go. I'm sorry about Leah, she's just really protective, I guess..." I said awkwardly, afraid to look him in the eye lest he see the naked sweaty version of him I was currently picturing.

"Uhh...no problem, really. I deserved it, you know," he replied sheepishly.

My eyes snapped up to his and I saw the discomfort there; I felt the same way. "How about we just call it even now. What d'you say?"

He looked relieved, and I couldn't blame him because I felt the same. It was hard work to hold a grudge.

Besides, he wasn't Edward right now; he was Tony.

And Tony was the one I wanted to make amends with, not Edward. Edward was another can of worms I wasn't ready to touch just yet.

We nodded awkwardly at each other in acknowledgement and I left the shop before anything else could blow up. I found Emily and Leah down the street, we decided to call it a day and head back to Forks.

EPOV

When I got home, I saw Carlisle's car in the driveway. I groaned miserably and climbed out of my car, being careful of my sore back. I couldn't wait to take the plastic wrap off my touch-up, but that would have to wait until tomorrow morning, because I freaking hated waking up stuck to the sheets after getting a new tattoo.

I hoped that Carlisle wouldn't lay into me about last night, but I figured I was already a doomed man; he was probably laying in wait in the foyer.

I just hoped he'd get it over with quickly so I could get on with my night.

As I pushed the front door open, the scent of food came wafting out of the kitchen. Color me confused, but Carlisle never cooked. I decided to investigate, deciding that if Carlisle was cooking then he must be going insane, and if he was insane, then he wouldn't remember what a total tool I'd been last night.

The scene in the kitchen made my stomach and my heart twist in unison: Carlisle stood behind Mrs. Smith from church, his head over her shoulder as he tasted something on a spoon she held out. He looked, well, kind of happy.

As for Mrs. Smith…she looked like she wanted to be the spoon. My stomach twisted again and my mother's face swam before my eyes.

"What the hell is going on in here?" I asked grumpily, forgetting that my father would be the one angry with me.

Carlisle snapped around and frowned at me like a thundercloud. "Edward, where are your manners young man?" he chided instantly.

Mrs. Smith looked like she wanted to fall through the floor. I noted that she was wearing a nice dress with an apron covering the front, and with her hair brushed the way it was, she looked just like a 1950's housewife.

It made me sick.

I forgot my manners again when I said, "What is she doing here?"

Carlisle's neck turned red and I felt mine do the same. After all, I got my temper from him, so it would follow. He brushed past me angrily and grabbed my ear in the process. He drug me to his office and shut the door with barely concealed fury. "Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, you will behave like a gentleman when you are under my roof. Is that understood?" he demanded.

I scowled at him. "You can't just go out and find the first fucking willing woman to bring home and bang just because mom's gone, you know!" I yelled in response. There was no way Esme couldn't hear what we were saying, but I was too angry to think about that right now.

Carlisle looked like he'd just been slapped. The shock of my words paled his face before filling it with the blood that was pulsing through the veins popping in his neck. "How dare you! You have no idea what I'm going through, and you have no right to speak that way to me. Furthermore, you will treat Esme with respect and perfect manners when you are in her presence. She is a lovely woman, and she deserves every ounce of respect you've got," he ground out. I watched as he pounded his fists on the desk through his little tirade, but none of it moved me.

For the first time since my mother died, I wasn't afraid to tell my father what I was really thinking. "'You will do this, you will do that,'" I mimicked and mocked. "I'm a grown man, Carlisle. I don't have to sit here and listen to you lecture me. I don't even have to be here! I could have stayed in school and gone on tour with my band, but instead I decided to come back here to live with you. I could have had a life that wouldn't have involved all your stupid rules and false pretenses! I could be doing what I want, when I want to, but instead I'm here getting yelled at like a seven year old. What is wrong with this picture?"

Carlisle looked slightly stunned, which took some of the edge out of his anger. His shoulders drooped as his gaze fell on a picture frame on his desk. I knew the picture he was looking at: it was about five years old, taken during my senior year in high school. My mother, as always, was standing between my father and I with an arm around each of us, holding us in a choke hold. She grinned at the camera triumphantly while my father and I faked grimaces.

"She would hate to see what we've become," Carlisle said quietly. He reached a hand out to pick up the picture frame. He brushed his fingertip over her smiling face and I watched as his eyes filled with intense regret. "Esme is a good woman, Edward. I know what you're probably thinking, but we're just friends. I don't know if I could ever love another woman the way I loved your mother, but I'm very lonely and Esme keeps me company. She makes me laugh again, and that's been something I've needed very much since your mother died. Life without her is just so empty, son. Just, please, say you'll give Esme a chance. She means well, and I think you would like her."

Seeing my father like this filled my chest with a suffocating pain. I dropped my anger and sighed heavily. "Okay, I'll try," I conceded reluctantly.

He placed the picture back in its original position and leveled a look at me. "Good, because she went through a lot of trouble to cook for us tonight."

I grimaced. "Dad, you know I can't eat..." I began.

He waved his hand, effectively cutting me off. "Don't worry, I already told her about your food hang-ups. She made some sauce especially for you without any meat in it."

I felt some slight relief. "Okay...what are we having?"

Carlisle walked around his desk to clap a hesitant arm around my shoulder. "Spaghetti."

When we got to the kitchen, Mrs. Smith was fussing over the garlic bread, arranging it into the basket with much more attention to detail than necessary. Her head was down, but I could see her wide eyes as she tried to gather herself.

I felt like a complete asshole, once again.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and walked up to her. "Mrs. Smith, I want to apologize for my extremely rude behavior earlier. I had no right to behave that way."

She looked up at me and smiled too brightly. "Oh, Edward, please don't mention it. I know I don't know you that well, but I just wanted to come by and get to know you a little better. I've enjoyed the friendship your father and I have formed, and he always speaks so highly of you."

Well, that surprised me. I gaped at her a little before I remembered my manners again. I watched her fidget nervously with the basket and I felt sorry for being such a prick. "Um, so, can I help you with anything, Mrs. Smith?" I offered.

She looked embarrassed. "Please call me Esme. It makes me sound like an old woman when people call me Mrs. Smith."

I smiled at her and reached out to take the basket from her before she could smash all the garlic bread. She relinquished it and quickly turned back to the sauce. "Dinner will be ready just as soon as the noodles are done," she informed us with a nervous laugh.

I felt myself begin to like her; her obvious nervousness at being here was endearing. I set the bread on the table and took a seat to wait for the food, which reminded me: "Thank you for making me a separate sauce, Esme. I really appreciate the gesture," I told her sincerely.

She blushed and waved her hand, and I could see it trembling from across the room; it made me feel like such an asshole. "My niece is a vegetarian, and she always feels left out whenever we have big family dinners, so I always try to make her feel included when I can. I figured you'd feel the same," she informed me.

I nodded. "That's very thoughtful of you. How old is your niece?" I asked, trying to make conversation. Carlisle nodded at me approvingly when she turned back to the sauce. I nodded my head at him in return.

"Oh, she's eleven. She has a really hard time with her choice at school, and I don't think her dad and brothers really get why she does it, but she's a tough little girl. She definitely has her own mind about things. I wonder if she'll go all the way to vegan someday?" Esme mused aloud.

I felt myself get warmed up to the conversation. "Yeah, it can be very difficult when your family doesn't understand why you choose to abstain from certain foods," I said, casting a significant look at my father from the corner of my eye. He caught my look and scowled in return. Yeah, whatever.

"I couldn't agree more. I don't have any kids of my own, but I can't imagine it would be easy for a child to make an unpopular decision and stick with it the way she has," Esme replied with empathy and admiration clear in her voice. "So, when did you first decide to be vegan, Edward?"

"Well, when I was in high school I started getting into it. I spent a lot of time up in Seattle with the music scene and that just introduced me to it, so it just kind of happened," I answered.

She nodded. I watched as she turned off the stove and tested the noodles before lifting the pot to drain the water. My father jumped up and snatched the pot out of her hand to drain it for her. "Here, let me do that for you," he said.

Esme caught me rolling my eyes. Oops. She just smiled at me like she knew it had to be hard for me having her here, and that made me feel like a troll because she was just being so nice.

"Edward, will you tell me more about your band?" she asked.

I sat up straight and gave her a questioning look. "How'd you know about my band?" I asked, confused. Nobody in church knew about my band, and I sincerely doubted she knew anybody I knew outside of the church.

Carlisle shot me a warning look. "She came with me last night," was all he said.

Awesome, I groaned internally. "Oh," I replied lamely.

Esme didn't look bothered, though. She took a seat next to me at the table and nudged me slightly before giving me a friendly smile. "So?"

I peeked at my dad before speaking. "My band's name is OCS. We've been around since high school, but we took a break when I went to Stanford for a while."

I saw Carlisle's body stiffen as he realized what we were talking about. He gave a short bark of laughter. "Edward's band makes for a nice hobby," he said condescendingly.

I had to resist the urge to glare at him and turned back to Esme instead. She patted my hand and pulled it away hastily when I looked down at her hand over mine. "Sorry. So, what's OCS stand for?" she asked.

It probably wouldn't be very nice to refuse Pop's new girl, so I decided to tell her. "It's, uh, kind of a joke between me and the other guys. It stands for 'Onward Christian Soldier.'"

She laughed lightly and I saw her eyes twinkle with mirth. When she looked like that, I could see why she'd made my dad happy.

I guess it was bound to happen sometime, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

"I like that," she told me before Carlisle started dishing up the spaghetti.

On Thursday evening, I was at the radio station preparing for my show when I heard a knock on the window of the office. I looked up to see Esme standing there with a box in her hands. She waved at me and shot me a friendly smile. I was confused as to why she would be here, but I went over and unlocked the door to let her in anyway.

"Uh, hey, Mrs...I mean, Esme," I greeted her awkwardly.

"Hello, Edward," she responded. I motioned toward the chair the guests usually sit in for my show and she got herself settled.

"So, what brings you here?" I asked, trying to keep the confusion out of my voice.

She set the box down and made eye contact with me. "I came to talk to you," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," I said. Smooth.

She sighed and leaned forward, folding her hands in her lap. "Listen, Edward, I came to talk about you and your father. I know you're not wild about the idea of me being around, but I just really hope you and I can find some sort of understanding. I think Carlisle is lonely, and I certainly know I am after my husband passed away..." she began, trailing off.

I fell into the chair on my side of the table and brushed a hand through my already messy hair. "I don't dislike you, Esme. I just...it's really hard for me to accept the idea of another woman taking my mother's place," I answered honestly.

Something about Esme Smith just inspired honesty, I supposed.

She leaned closer to me over the desk. "Oh, Edward, please don't think that way! I'm not trying to take your mother's place, and I never could, anyway. Your father loved her very much, and I can see that and respect it. I only want to be a friend to Carlisle, but I won't lie...I do find him attractive, and if we move in that direction, I want to know that I have your blessing."

I shifted uncomfortably and groaned a little. This was not what I needed before my radio show. I needed to be calm, cool, and collected. "I don't honestly know how I feel about that yet, but I will tell you that I think you're a very nice woman and I do see that my father has been happier since he started seeing you. I guess that must mean you're good for him," I conceded.

She smiled and pushed the box toward me. "Here," she said.

I looked up at her and put my hand on the top of the box. "What's this?" I asked suspiciously.

Her smile turned to a conspiratorial grin and I wondered if she was off her rocker. Maybe it was a hideous Christmas sweater or something, and Carlisle would force me to wear it.

"Well, it's kind of a bribe. I hope you like them," she said. "Go on, open it."

I lifted the lid off the box and peered inside. When I saw no evidence of woolen reindeer, I laid the lid aside and reached in to remove...Holy crap.

"Original Misfits? Black Flag? The Descendents? What the...Minor Threat?" I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. In my hand, I was holding what appeared to be a box full of original vinyl from bands active in the punk and hardcore scene in the 80's.

Esme looked embarrassed. "I had them lying around, gathering dust. I figured you'd get more use out of them than I can these days. It's not appropriate for a woman of my age to be moshing around, you know."

I gaped at her. These were hers? "Esme...these are yours? Your records?"

She laughed. "I wasn't always a forty year old woman, Edward. I grew up listening to this music, and I had quite a bit of fun in my day." Her eyes unfocused on a point beyond my shoulder, and I knew she must be reliving some of her memories.

I guess this must have been how Bella felt when she found out I was Tony Masen. Suddenly, I felt sorry for not being kinder to her in her confusion.

"Wow," was all I could say. I was stunned.

She giggled like a teenager and blushed. "I had quite the crush on Ian Mackaye," she told me.

I shifted around in my seat, feeling embarrassed. "Um...sooo... does my father know about this?" I asked.

She laughed and slapped a hand over her chest. "Oh, no! Carlisle strikes me as an easy listening kind of guy."

I laughed along with her and went through the rest of the box. The woman must have X'ed up in her day, judging by the prevalence of straightedge bands in here: Gorilla Biscuits, Youth of Today, Teen Idles, Chain of Strength...the list went on. There had to be at least twenty albums in here, some of them autographed. I drooled like a kid in a candy shop.

"You're really going to just give these to me?" I asked, astounded.

Esme nodded her head. "Like I said, it was a bribe. I figured maybe you'd think of me less as a stuffy old church lady if you knew I had some punk in me."

I shot her a huge smile. "Consider the bribe accepted, then. I had no idea!"

We talked for a few more minutes before I had to start my show, but she stayed and listened to the taping. I wanted so badly to interview her, to ask her about being at the shows I would have given an arm or leg to see, but that wasn't what my radio show was about. I could feel her watching me and considering the mix between the two people I had become, but she never judged me.

At least, I didn't think she was.

I was relieved not to get anymore threatening calls from Bella. I guess the truce really was going to work, after all.

After the show, Esme said her goodbyes and I went through the records again. I couldn't wait to see my father's face if he ever found out Esme was more like his aberrant son than he knew.

I tucked the box under my arm and left the studio feeling lighter than I had in some time. I wondered what class with Bella would be like on Saturday, but for the first time I wasn't angry at the idea of her.

Fascinating.

A/N: Awww, Esme's a closet freak too! Woo! Random, huh? But that's why she's so down with Eddie boy's music, so that's good, right?

And how about the adorable little scene between Edward and Bella, huh?

Sigh. I've probably lost alllll the readers for this story from my long absence. I'm sorry everyone, really. But I'm on summer break now, so I'll have plenty of time to work on my stories. I hope you stay tuned.

3 HIE