Hello everyone! I don't have much to say for myself on the lack of updates for the last couple of weeks other than that I'm sorry. I really mean it too, I am really, really sorry. Unexpected things just kind of got in the way, ruined computers and such.

I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is rated M and intended for mature audiences over the age of 18 only.

WANDERLUST

CHAPTER 8

The next morning, I wake up spread out nearly diagonally on my back, with my head on the far edge of the bed and my right leg crossed over Edward's leg which has migrated to my side of the bed. Edward is face down with his head turned away from me and his arms are spread to his sides, one dangling over the mattress edge and the other attached to my boob, albeit a different one that it was attached to last night. I stretch my leg a little further until my toes just touch the inner thigh of his left leg and wiggle them a bit, trying to tickle him. It works and he stirs, drawing in a huge breath and flexing his fingers against my chest before he draws his hand away and folds his pillow over his head, mumbling something about more sleep.

"Oh, I see how it is," I say out loud. I can tell by the cadence of his breathing that he's not really gone back to sleep, at least not entirely. I reach down to pull the blanket back over my body. The morning air in the room is chilly. "You get me all excited with a quick grope and then leave me hanging. Okay. That's fine. Whatever."

He releases his pillow from its hold and turns to face me. His jade eyes are sleepy but he's got that cocky sideways grin on his lips.

"Excitement, huh? Is that what that is?" he rasps in his gravelly morning voice. God, I love his morning voice. He reaches out and tweaks my nipple between his fingers. "I thought you were just cold."

"Well, I am cold," I slap his hand away, "seeing as how my boyfriend is a blanket hog." The larger comforter has been all but pushed off of the bed on Edward's side except for where it covers the bottom part of this left leg.

Suddenly he's up with his knees on either side of my hips and his hands next to my ears, hovering over me. He reaches behind him and pulls the sheet over our heads and I shiver as the rush of cool air that came in as the billowing sheet settles again.

"This isn't helping," I smirk and look up at him against the stark white sheet, illuminated in the bright sun coming through the window.

"I think I know something that would warm you up."

"You do?" My smile turns coy as I look down and eye the bulge in the front of his boxers. I reach up and run my fingers down the center of his abdomen, past his navel and through the trail of hair leading down to what I want the most. "What's that?"

"A tickle fight," he says and immediately attacks the sides of my ribs with his long fingers.

"NO! Stop! STOP!" I thrash around as much as possible, which isn't much since he's got me clamped between his legs and I'm laughing and gasping and begging for mercy. "Uncle! UNCLE!"

"My name's not uncle, it's Edward," he says and continues his onslaught.

"EDWARD!" I shriek and try to grab his hands, but he finally stops. "Tickle fight? You are such a girl." I huff but smile at him so he's knows I'm not mad. "If you wanted me to scream your name, there's better ways to make that happen."

"Hmm," Edward hums and lowers his mouth to my own and we kiss for just a couple of seconds before he moves lower, planting one on my jaw, then my neck, and then my collar bone. "Like what, exactly?" His lips ghost down my sternum to the valley between my breasts but he doesn't spend much time there before he begins kissing toward the peak, teasing the puckered skin with the tip of his tongue.

I groan and arch my back a bit, pushing my chest closer to his face and he finally wraps his lips around my nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around it while it's in his mouth before he releases it with a pop and moves on to the other one. My fingers gravitate toward his head as though his thick hair was some sort of magnet for them and I wind through the soft strands until I've got him virtually trapped against me. He doesn't look like he minds.

Every now and then, when he shift, his hips come close enough to me that I can feel him bump against me and I use the hand that isn't in his hair to palm him through his boxers, fumbling with the slit in the front pouch of the boxers before I give up and just shove my and down the elastic waistband.

Edward finally detaches himself from my boobs and sits up on his knees, pulling at my panties. My legs go up and I just about kick him in the face trying to get them off, but they're finally gone and my legs are on either side of him now, making room for him between my thighs. There's a sense of urgency to this all of the sudden and our hands scramble to get rid of his boxers, settling at leaving them half-way down his thighs before I've got him in my hand, sliding the head against my pussy until he's in the right place. He drives into me until his body is flush with my own and I release a high-pitched sigh of pure ecstasy while I stretch my arms above my head and arch my back.

"Oh my God, that's so fucking good," I say, a little deliriously, as he swivels his hips in a couple of circles before he abruptly pulls out. I look up at him in crazed confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I can't move around the way I want to," he says and slides off the bed. He stands at the end before he leans over to wrap his fingers around my waist and I squeal as he pulls me all the way down until my ass is at the edge of the mattress. He stands between my legs and slides right back in, going for a couple of short strokes. It's good, but I want him deeper and I hook my hands in the crook of my knees to draw my legs out to the side and up as far as I can. His breathing gets a little rougher when the tip of his cock goes as far as it can and he releases his grip on my waist to press the heel of his palm just above my pubic bone as he pushes in. He's done this a couple of times before and it's always good but with the way I've got my legs drawn up, it feels amazing. It's like I can feel everything ten times stronger, like every little ridge on his cock is rubbing me in just the right way.

"Fuck, I can feel myself against my hand," Edward groans as he pistons his hips against me and I try desperately to hold my shaking legs in place. Edward or I usually have to play with my clit before I can come but I don't think I'll need it today.

Edward presses his hand down a little harder just as the head of his cock passes my g-stop and I'm a goner.

"Edward! Edward, oh, FUCK!" I shriek while my pussy grips him and refuses to let go. He clamps his hand down over my mouth, muffling my screams. It's a good thing he does because I don't want to wake people up, but there is no way I can control myself right now. He gets a few more erratic thrusts in, earning a yelp from me each time, before his face contorts and he shoves himself to the hilt and releases into me.

He takes his hand off of my mouth, removes himself from my body and leans over me. We are both out of breath, chests heaving as we stare at each other a little wide-eyed.

"Are you warm yet?" Edward asks with a smirk.

I burst out laughing and he groans, pulling my thighs around his waist then snaking his hands around my back to pull me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his, still giggling a bit, as he lifts me off the bed and walks us into the shower.

#WL#

We all pile into the van and Edward drives us out to Kilmainham Gaol where we're given a private tour by a girl about my age named Cora. She has pink streaks in her hair and what looks like a clear barbell in her eyebrow, probably taking the place of a more substantial metal one when she's not at work. Surprisingly, she doesn't have an Irish accent and actually, I'd put money down she's from Boston. Sure enough, when I ask her about it, she reveals that she has a PhD in history from Harvard. She's from a stereotypical Irish-American, Boston-based family. Needless to say, her decision to accept a position as a historian and curator at the Gaol after defending her thesis on the Irish uprisings of the early 1900s was one that was strongly supported by her family.

Cora begins by seating us in a small chapel where she tells us stories of the prisoners who said some of their last prayers here. She recounts the romantic and tragic story of Joseph Plunkett and Grace Gifford, married in the chapel only hours before Joseph was executed for his part in the 1916 Easter Uprising. Cora knows the stories so well, as if they were her own, and I feel myself becoming wrapped up in them. A lump forms in my throat as I think of Grace and what it must have been like for her to stand here in this plain, cold room, facing an ending when it should have been their beginning.

From the chapel, we move through the older parts of the prison and I'm shocked at how horrible the conditions are. I can't imagine what they must have been like in the 1800's, when they wouldn't have had lights, insulation would have been worse and therefore things a lot more cold and damp than they already are, and the cells would have been packed.

Newer parts of the prison are considerably better, but still pretty terrible, and the tour culminates in the prison yards, right where the executions Cora had told us about took place. I leave Kilmainham in a considerably more somber mood than I'd arrived – not that I'd expected a jail to be a happy place - but I'm ready to do something a little more light-hearted. I'm also ready to get something to eat because I've got a bit of a headache and I'm feeling sort of lightheaded.

We say goodbye to Cora and get into the van to find lunch. Jasper drives after Edward points out to him the place that we're going and Edward sits with me in the back seat while I lean my head back and close my eyes.

"You alright, Blackbird?" Edward asks, running his fingertips lightly across the back of my hand on the seat between us. "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine. I just shouldn't have skipped breakfast, that's all." I turn my hand over and he laces his fingers with mine. He scoots a little closer to me and I lay my head on his shoulder while Jasper makes his way to the pub for lunch.

We go to the Brazen Head, a beautiful little pub with baskets of overflowing flowers hanging on either side of the stone archway entrance. The building looks like it might have been a carriage house at one point and a plaque affixed beside the entry declares it to be the oldest pub in Ireland, having been founded in 1198. I follow behind Edward, grasping at his fingers as we weave through a surprisingly busy crowd for being between lunch and dinner. We make our way through a small outdoor seating area and into the pub, choosing a small table in the corner. It's better suited for four people than six, but we're not exactly strangers to cramming together so we make it work.

I'm about half-way through my Irish stew when the muscles in my lower abdomen clench and I clutch my stomach, sucking in a sharp breath until it passes. I remember the tampons in my bag. That explains the headache, I guess. Periods aren't usually something I need to think about – I had terrible ones as a teenager and had been getting the shot since I was about sixteen to help with that. When I first started, the doctor told me that some women stopped getting their periods altogether on the shot. I held out hope for that, but wasn't quite that lucky. I still got one every few months, but that was way better than twelve times a year.

I twist in my chair to bring my purse in front of me and dig for some type of pain killer. I find three lighters (ridiculous, because I don't smoke), Kleenex, about fifty billion hair pins, a ring with so many rhinestones on it that it could blind someone if the light shown on it just right, but no pain killers. I really need to get my purse priorities straight.

"What are you looking for?" Rose asks me quietly, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I need some aspirin or ibuprofen or something," I tell her, grimacing as my abdominal muscles protest even my slight twisting movement to put my purse back down. I did find a tampon in my purse, buried in the bottom of one of the inside pockets and Rose eyes it and then me with pity. She knows what it's like for me – she and Alice came over for a night of chick-flick movies and take-out a few months ago but I ended up whining and moaning on the couch for a few hours before they convinced me to just go to bed. That's my problem with the shot. I can't expect it. It's just, bam! Out of commission.

"Oh, Bella. That sucks," Rose's voice is full of sympathy as she shakes two pills out of a travel-sized ibuprofen bottle in her own purse. She looks up at me then shakes two more pills out. "You better take all of these."

I shove all four pills in my mouth and take a big swig of my water to try to wash them down. I have to jerk my head back a couple of times – I've never been good at swallowing pills. It's like some sort of deep seeded fear of choking or something, I don't know. I shouldn't have put all four in my mouth at once, that's for sure. It's going to take me more than one try to finish them.

I stand up to use the restroom and Edward stops talking to Jasper and looks at me with concern, but doesn't say anything. I hurry in the rest room and come back to the table. I don't bother with finishing the stew I ordered, even though what little I had was very good.

"Edward, do you want the rest of this?" I nudge him and shove my bowl toward him.

"Why? You aren't hungry anymore?" He frowns a bit.

"Nah. I'm not really feeling very well. Female problems," I whisper and shove the bowl a little closer to him. "Go ahead. It's really good."

The hint of a grossed-out look cross his features in a typical guy reaction to the mention of anything to do with 'female problems'. It fades quickly and he takes the bowl and lifts the spoon to his lips for a bite before I feel the fingers of his free hand creep over and massage little circles into the small of my back.

"Jasper, what time are we supposed to pick up the RVs?" Edward asks between bites.

"We can pick them up anytime. They said as long as it was after eleven o'clock, they'd have them ready. After we pick them up, we'll make our way toward Wicklow. We need to be there by eight thirty tonight, but it doesn't take long to get there."

Edward glances at his watch and over to me. "Do you want to go over and check out at the hotel? The sooner we get checked out and get to the RV, the sooner you can lay down for awhile."

"I'm okay, don't worry about it," I tell him, lying through my teeth.

Now, I'm not exactly a lightweight when it comes to pain. I was kind of clumsy as a kid and had to 'walk it off' so many times, I can't even tell you. I once twisted my ankle so badly that it actually fractured but I'd spent almost a week walking around on it thinking the pain wasn't really that bad. This, on the other hand, felt like someone had put my stomach muscles in a vice and was ripping my ovaries out of my body simultaneously. I was all for the idea of getting the RV and lying down.

The guys got up to pay the tab while Alice, Rose and I stayed at the table so Rose could finish her drink.

"What are we doing in Wicklow?" I ask, glancing at Alice. "It doesn't specify on the itinerary."

"I'm not entirely sure," Alice says while she uses the end of her unused knife to draw trails through the puddles of condensation left by the beer glasses on the table.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?" Rose says, raising an eyebrow at Alice. "You're the associate producer."

Alice shrugs. "Jasper says it's kind of a surprise. Something historical, though."

"Alice, we're in Ireland. You'd be hard pressed to think of anything here that isn't at least, I don't know, two hundred years old." Rose rolls her eyes. "Hell, I'm sure the club we were at last night has something historical about it."

"Hmm. Yeah. But it's something more interactive, I gather. He says we'll all be on camera at some point, not just Bella."

Well, that's new. There have been flashes of almost everyone except for Edward (him being the one actually operating the camera) at one point or another during the show, but no one's ever explicitly participated in what's going on on camera. I'm curious as to what Jasper's plan might be and thankful for the timing. It'll give me a chance not to have to be the center of attention for a few hours, particularly now that I have to actually work to keep the occasional grimace off of my face from the pain.

When the guys come back to the table, we gather up our stuff and head back to the hotel. Our things are easily packed up since no one really unpacked to begin with – the only thing I have to do is just zip my suitcase. We all meet back in the lobby and everyone hands their room keys to Jasper, who teases me and says I now owe him three hundred Euros for an unused room.

The van we rented for the last couple of days isn't large enough to hold everyone's luggage and Jasper's arranged for a hotel service to pick it up here at the hotel. The concierge calls three cabs and we all pile into them in the same pairs we came from the airport in.

"Where can I take you, sir?" the young driver asks Edward as Edward folds his long legs into the back seat of the small taxi. I'm actually a little surprised our bags fit into the trunk of this one.

"The airport, please. To the camper van and car rental pickup."

The driver nods and pulls away from the curb, narrowly missing a bicyclist who is winding down the center of the narrow street, presumably without looking where he's going. He's got one hand on the handlebars and the other is holding his cell phone to his un-helmeted head.

"What a fucking idiot," I growl from my seat in the back, then meet the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Him. Not you. Sorry." I stutter. I'm usually better at watching my mouth around strangers.

"No need to apologize when it's the truth."

The traffic is lighter now than it was when we first arrived in Dublin and the drive to the airport isn't long. Alice and Jasper were the first to leave the hotel and their taxi has already left – Alice is sitting on the pile of her and Jasper's suitcases stacked up on the sidewalk in front of a row of campers of various sizes. I notice that none of them are particularly large, but they're certainly enough for two people. Besides, I understand having a smaller vehicle is better on some of the lesser used Irish roads we'll be traveling on, particularly in the west.

Emmett and Rose, who arrived last, are just finishing getting their bags unloaded out of their taxi when Jasper storms out of the rental office, looking fully pissed off. Considering the fact that Jasper isn't riled up easily, this is concerning. He shoves his backpack off the top of the luggage stack and sits down next to Alice.

"Okay. Slight change in plans. Not in the route…just in the method of travel," Jasper stands back up again.

"The method?" I ask, staring at the single key in the Jasper's hand. One. As in, not three. For three different RVs. This is not good.

"The reservationist didn't put in our order correctly. She didn't order us three of the smaller campers like I asked. She ordered one larger one."

"What?" Emmett, Rose and Alice all exclaim in unison.

"Well, there's a whole line right here," I say, pointing out the mini-fleet behind Alice. "Can't they just rent you a couple more?"

Jasper shakes his head. "These are all pre-rented. I paid extra for them to drive it all the way over here from Shannon. It would take at least an extra day for us to get two more."

"Will it fit all of our luggage? And is there a bed for each of us?" Edward asks, considerably more calmly than Alice, Emmett and Rose were upon first hearing the news.

"I'm told it should and yes, apparently so. We'll have to see the actual configuration to know."

We all follow Jasper to the camper at the far end of the line near our luggage pile and it dawns on me that we don't have one larger one to use that's actually, well…large.

"This is just getting better and better," Rose deadpans as Jasper unlocks the door and steps inside.

When I climb up the stairs into the camper van, it becomes clear that we're going to have to be creative with where we are storing our things. There's a small table with a couch opposite. A small kitchenette (and by small I mean a single stove burner and a piece of counter that's only about one or two feet squared) and what I'm guessing is the bathroom behind that. The only bedding I see is what appears to be a cushioned sleeping area above where the driver's seat is and is maybe about the size of a double bed. At the back of the camper, a set of twin bunk beds face the kitchenette and bathroom door.

"Um, I only see beds for four people," Alice says, annoyance clear in her tone.

"I'm sure this couch or table converts into a sleeping area," Edward tells her and steps over to lift up the cushions on the couch.

"Pull tab to release," Edward reads off of the manufacturer's description of the pull-out bed underneath. "What'd I tell you?"

"So," Emmett speaks up as he reclines in the passenger's seat up front. "Who has to sleep in the twin beds?"

#WL#

In the end (which really was pretty quickly into the conversation), Edward and I offered to sleep in the twin beds. After all, it wasn't like we were going to be having any sex for the next couple of days. Not that any of the rest of them would, not with our current set up.

The daylight was beginning to dim in a beautiful, fiery sunset by the time we finally got everything arranged so that everyone had access to their stuff but still had enough sleeping room. Edward took the driver's seat, having been volunteered by Jasper to drive us through town and down the N11 to Wicklow. It couldn't have taken more than an hour, maybe an hour and a half to get there.

We pulled into a parking lot behind a tiny row of shops and restaurants where Edward said we should probably just park for the night. I opted to stay in the camper and nap when everyone got out to get some dinner in the small pub where some loud, rhythmic music was pouring from the open back door. I still wasn't hungry after lunch and wasn't really feeling any better either. I wish I'd brought a few of the muscle relaxers my doctor had prescribed for me – the painkillers I took earlier didn't do shit.

When I woke back up, the camper was still parked, but I could see through the back window that was just at the foot of the bunk beds that it was in a different spot. Across the street, there was a large stone structure, with what looked to be tall walls that curved into a main structure with barred windows and a single, small door under a stone arch.

Edward came to the back where the bunks were and crouched down beside me, reaching out to stroke his fingers against my arm.

"Blackbird, we're ready to start filming again in about twenty minutes," he spoke softly.

"Where are we?" I asked, a little groggily after my extended nap.

"Wicklow Gaol." His face looked a little grim. Maybe he didn't think we should be wasting time going here, since we were just at Kilmainham Gaol today. I mean, a jail is a jail, right? What more could you see? Wouldn't this be boring for viewers?

I sat up slowly and swung my legs off the bed to slip my shoes back on. I stood up to go meet the others outside, but Edward stood still in front of me, blocking my path.

"Bella, if Jasper has planned what I think he has, I want you to remember that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"What?" I look at him like he's crazy. "Jasper has never made me do anything I didn't want to do."

"I mean it, Bella." He must really be serious if he's calling me by my actual name.

"Okay." I slip past him but take his hand and lead him out to join the others. There's a middle aged women with short black hair, not entirely different from Alice's, standing and talking with the group. Their smiling and laughing a little and when they see Edward and I approach, the woman's face lights up.

"Well, this must be Bella and Edward!" She extends her hand to me and I take it with my free hand and shake it, not letting go of Edward. "I'm Mary."

"Nice to meet you," I say, still thinking about Edward's earlier warning. I wonder what it could be and I wonder why he didn't just tell me what he thought I'd be so objectionable to.

"Now that everyone is here, I can finally tell you why I'm here. We'll be joined by a number of other curators tonight, but I will stay with you the whole time. I will be the psychic investigator for your tour."

"The psychic investigator?" I ask, wondering why the hell we need a psychic to tour a jail.

"Of course. I'll be the main facilitator for your paranormal investigation tour."

"What?" I have a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Your paranormal investigation tour," she repeats. "Wicklow Gaol is one of the most haunted places in Ireland."

Alice squeals with delight, and flings herself onto Jasper, planting noisy kisses on his cheek. She loves all this ghost stuff. She watches hours and hours of that show with that bro who wears Affliction shirts and always says he's nauseous when he goes into a haunted place. She can't get enough.

Rosalie's eyes spark with a sort of milder interest than Alice, but she looks excited all the same.

I, on the other hand, have a fear of ghosts. In fact, you might even call it fear to the point of irrationality. If I watch even a marginally well made movie about haunting and what not, I can't sleep well for days. I might finally understand what the ghost hunter guy means when he always says he's going to barf, because I think I might and it isn't the cramps this time.

There is one problem though. No one but Edward knows that the one thing that scares the absolute shit out of me is paranormal ghost stuff. I'm not really the kind of girl to admit to my weaknesses. I go along to all the scary movies with everyone else, no matter how much I know I'm going to regret it. The only reason Edward knows about my fear is because he's the one who I always lure to my apartment to stay with me after viewing said movies.

I can't even be mad at Jasper for this. He didn't know I wouldn't like it as much as Alice or Rose. He's even seen me watch that ghost hunting show with Alice a lot, but in my defense, that show is just stupid. Even if ghosts are scary.

I wish I was the kind of person who could just admit to everyone that this scares me and I don't want to go. But I can't make myself do it. I'm standing out here, ready to go. Jasper wants to shoot this for the show. I vaguely hear Mary saying that they run this tour multiple times a night, and that makes me feel a little better. If this many people are going in there every night, it can't be that scary, right?

Edward squeezes my hand but doesn't nudge me forward at all.

"Blackbird, you don't have to. No one will be upset. You can just go back to the RV."

"This is one of the most haunted places in Ireland?" I ask, looking up at him.

"That's what they say."

"Then what's stopping a ghost from walking across the street? I want to stay with you."

He chuckles a little bit. "I don't think ghosts are in the habit of haunting RVs."

"Well, this would be the one time they do. I'm staying with you."

"Okay. I'll keep you safe." He tucks me under his arm and we follow the group to the front door.

I take a deep breath and as we step through the threshold and turn my face into Edward's side just a bit. A curator who was waiting for us to step through re-locks the doors behind us.

"There we go, all locked up," he says cheerily. "Follow me to the gate to hell. Or at least, that's what the prisoners called it."

Awesome. There's nothing I like better than stepping through gates to hell.

I'm gripping Edward so tightly, I'm sure there will be little half-moon marks in his the skin along his torso from my nails.

This is really, really going to suck.

Review if you've got a minute! I always love to know what you think.

LA