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After Edward makes clear his intentions to approach her father, utter silence shrouds the car. Edward isn't concerned by the clam-up since she's stated a couple of times that mindless chatter doesn't engage her, but there is a duality in the quiet, even as their two minds move through things. Edward is busy strategizing, planning for the equivocal encounters he's set in motion, content and comfortable. Bella is struggling to process everything she's experienced and discovered that relates to Edward, and it's not going well. Unbeknownst to him, Bella is fighting with age old insecurity, questioning her worthiness even in the face of facts. After a few tense moments, where tears threaten to track down her face, she pulls it together and trusts. Amidst her uncertainty, she moves a hand to the base of Edward's neck and begins to scratch through his soft, multihued hair. She can't help herself from asking, "Is that okay?" And though her voice is timid and terse, it breaks Edward's concentration like a clap of thunder. He's focused solely on her.
After a soft growl, which Bella silently categorizes as a purr, he says, "It is always okay for you to touch me; in any way you see fit. I told you: I am yours." With her wrist so close to his mouth, and her fragrant aroma saturating the car, he decides it's prudent to crack a window. While he adjusts the airflow, Bella begins to formulate a response, reclaiming her brain from the mush he's made it.
"You're serious?" She says it like a statement, but her expression, it's clear that this is a question.
"Dead serious." They both smile, and Bella turns in her seat to place a hand on his outstretched arm, her fingers feeling his bicep flex for course corrections. Edward can feel her pulse stampeding against his stone exterior.
"Will you change me?" The direction of the conversation takes both of them off guard, and before he can stop himself, Edward has sucked in a lungful of air, and creased his forehead beyond what he thought possible. His eyes blacken with her implication, and the look on his face must be fearsome based on Bella's full body freeze.
"You don't waste any time, do you?" It's impossible to keep the disapproval from his voice, and neither of them like the way his censure sounds.
"I'm not asking you to bite me right now, but it's the logical outcome, right? Would you just... let this go after waiting so long?" Bella is struggling to reconcile the person he's waited for, the love of his very long life, with herself.
"It is, and always will be, your choice. But it won't be anytime soon."
"I know, I'm not ready for... that, specifically. But why not?"
"Do you really want to remain a teenager for all time? I hear they're moody and morose, prone to overreaction and acne." After hearing her laugh, he presses the case against her immediate change. "Besides, the logistics of life beyond the transformation with a teenage face are tricky. It's limiting in the extreme. I was changed at twenty-three, and that's nearly too young, these days. And Bella, don't you want the opportunity to become an adult, experience the full scope of your vitality?"
"I think it's safe to say that before today, it never crossed my mind."
"Then let us cross this subject no more, tonight."
The remainder of the car ride is smooth, quiet conversation contrasted with singeing skin to skin contact. Bella is hopelessly attracted, and of no mind to hold her hands back with his open-ended invitation unfurled, and Edward is intent on making up for lost time: centuries of it. He's hard pressed to describe the sensations that are ripping through him at her innocent but insistent exploration, but there's no masking his joy at her expression while she does these delicious, distracting things; the rapture on her face is enough to soothe every second of his loneliness. Though it's a close and heated battle of his self-control between pulling the car over for extra-curriculars and getting her home at a decent hour, the gentleman prevails. Before either of them are ready, he's pulling down the gravel drive to his family's home.
Bella's curfew is rapidly approaching, so Edward takes the remaining time to explain himself before she scurries home. He holds her hand and leans into the doorframe of her jalopy. "Bella, about your father. And my resignation. I'm trying to..." He finds himself at a loss for words for the first time in memory, so he swallows and starts again. "Honesty is very important me. If my abilities make lying impossible for others, shouldn't I extend the same courtesy where I can? Our existence makes certain lies and manipulations necessary, but I want to avoid as much of that as possible with you. Deception is a poison that I will not allow to taint our time together."
"You're right. I'm just scared. You don't know what Charlie will do. And neither do I, but I do know he's not gonna like this. One bit."
"I think I can deal with the Chief. Let your millenarian work his magic." He takes a slick, spare cell phone from his front pocket and slides it into her purse, then climbs into the car's cabin with her. "That's yours, but keep it quiet and out of sight for now." She begins to protest, but he places two fingers over her mouth before she can speak out against it. "I have to tell you one more thing, my love." Her expression softens at his endearment and evaporates when he pulls her into his lap, sandwiching her between the enormous steering wheel and his chest, her legs straddling his soldier's waist. "In the spirit of honesty, I would have you know my given name." His voice is a caress across her cheeks and she struggles to breathe, to hear his words. "I am Aedwaerth." The whispered syllables are music to her, and amidst her hormonal haze she vaguely grasps satisfaction at having this secret part of him. "Say it," he presses, wanting in more ways than he can count.
The name barely passes her lips before they are silenced and stolen by his. He's careful but crazed, and she's caving to his ardor. His hands pull at her hips, softness sliding against stone and igniting him at every point of contact. The delicate weight of her breasts rest against him as she pulls two handed at his hair, and Edward clutches at her curves, his sexual desire reanimated after so many dormant years. His lips move, unpracticed but perfect, against hers as their bodies learn one another. They both resist the almost indomitable urge to use the full length of the bench seat. When Bella invokes a deity, he pulls away, desperate for more but cognizant of two things: her responsibilities and his family's rapt attention. He places her in front of the steering wheel and croaks, "Go. Go now, before I won't let you." Then he cranks the engine, shuts her door, and retreats to the porch to watch her rumble down the driveway while his dead heart pulses in his chest, echoing Bella even in her departure.
Edward only enters the house when he hears the ancient Chevy transition onto the highway beyond their drive, and when he does, he finds the entire family waiting for him, ready to pounce on their beloved patriarch. He rolls his eyes dramatically, but is unable to stop his face from expressing his complete happiness. He hears them note this in their minds, seeing his bright, wide eyes, the constant flicker of a crooked smile, and the easy, relaxed posture that is unusual for him. They all wait for him to speak, but when he does, it's not what they expect.
"Are the wolves still waffling about our upcoming arrangement? Has anyone spoken to them recently?"
"The called the house a few days ago, looking to set up a meeting, but you were watching the human sleep. They said they'd only talk to you. And you've been too busy with the broad to call them back." Her sarcastic tone is usual, but the disregard for Bella rankles.
"She has a name, Rose." Edward brings the full force of his glare onto his youngest progeny.
"Whatever. Why are you making small-talk about the mongrels?"
The reasons behind Rosalie's attitude are obscure to Edward, but under his unrelenting gaze, he begins to piece the puzzle together. He grasps its entirety just before she masks her thoughts, but that particular cocktail of anger, jealousy and shame are not what he expected. Jasper and Edward both sense her turbulent and twisted emotions, but neither acknowledge the awkward moment. Instead, Edward softens his gaze toward the beautiful blonde and says, "We will talk about that later." With a smile he continues, "Why don't you go hunt and I'll find you in the forest?" Rose rushes from the room with an anguished expression. Edward stills Emmet when he moves to follow after, and continues with his earlier line of conversation. "I need to discuss my plans with you." Though it's unnecessary for them to take seats around the dining room table, they do so for the symbolism and the accompanying sense of camaraderie. Once they are seated, Edward presses on, "I've stumbled into a delicate situation here, haven't I?"
They all laugh, and Carlisle coughs out, "You're far too suave for stumbling, brother."
"Let's not get hung up on semantics, shall we? Especially since I have every intention of stumbling over the rules at least once more. I'm going to have to tell her father."
Even though Alice knows, and has informed Jasper, the rest of the family is taken aback. Esme is quick to question, "Why? Can you not avoid his scrutiny?"
"I'm sure that I could, but the desire to keep him in the dark is gone. Let me try to explain. Bella is very young." Murmurs of agreement volley across the mahogany. "And it's clear to me through our conversation that she cares for him deeply. She still needs him in her life, and I will not take that from her. Which is exactly what I'd be doing if we hid from him." They take a moment to process this, then Edward continues, "Imagine it. He only knows me as her teacher, and there's a very strong teacher-student taboo, in this time and place. I doubt he'd ever warm to the idea, and we'd be forced to abandon Forks, with or without Bella." Everyone sitting around him flinches at his anguished expression as he considers the latter outcome.
Emmet pipes up with his effervescent humor, "Stronger than the human-vampire taboo?"
Edward's long suffering expression is matched by the majority of the table, but they're all silently amused; it's better not to encourage Emmet, lest he become unmanageable. "I'm hoping he's a reasonable man, Emmet, and he'll see that no one can be better for Bella."
Jasper is genuinely curious, "Do you really believe that?"
"I'd like to. I think it may be too late for both of us, regardless. I suppose what I'm telling you is that I won't lie to her, and she needs her father, so I won't lie to him, either. I owe it him, to her, to the human I was. If you feel you need to distance yourselves from this situation, I won't blame you. I'm treading a fine line, and I won't play with your lives without permission."
"Don't be foolish. Nothing bad will happen."
"I've involved the wolves, Alice. How would you know?"
"Because it's you. You always make it right." Alice's love for him as a father and protector has always clouded her judgment somewhat, but Edward is deeply affected by her words anyway. He reaches across the table and grasps her hand, giving her a brilliant smile.
"I could use everyone's help. Will you all stay?"
Five fierce affirmatives swamp what little anxiety had grown within Edward at the very real prospect of his separated family. Carlisle assuages his tiny fears further, "After everything we've been through, and all that you've done for us, how could you think that we would leave now. 'You're barking mad if you think we'd miss this.'"
Edward smiles at having his words hurled back at him after nearly six hundred years, and is caught up in the monumental emotion of having found his other half. "I'm glad. But I still didn't want to assume."
Emmet interjects, "And yet you made an ass of yourself, anyway. Now let's hear your plan already."
"You're all familiar with our acreage in Montana, near the Blackfoot river? The Chief is especially fond of fishing and good friends with Billy Black. If they agree to come, Carlisle and I will fly the Citation into Helena, and we'll spend a weekend working an agreement out with the wolves while we ease Charlie into our world."
"How do you think the shifters are going to react? Especially when they realize you're with Bella?" Jasper is one step ahead of the rest of the family.
"I'm hoping full disclosure will be a sufficient show of goodwill. If I'm honest about it, and willing to inform them, they should realize my intentions are honorable. I'm not wild about the idea, but the alternative is probably war with the Quileutes, and I'd rather not destroy such a unique and precious group.
Jasper is skeptical of the idea, and further probes, "The wolves wouldn't even come here. What makes you think they'd be willing to board a jet, then cozy up around a campfire with the Chief."
"I think his presence will help, actually. They're worried about the safety of their elders, but with Charlie Swan in attendance, they'll be safer. We can't exactly kill a police chief without consequences. They'd know that." Edward grins mischievously. "And we won't exactly be camping, Major." Memories of the massive two-story log cabin are colored with a cozy fondness.
"Alright, I'll buy it. Alice, darlin', you see how it all works out?"
"No, Jazz. The shifters spoil everything."
Alice's martyred expression makes everyone chuckle, and it's clear to everyone that the meeting is adjourned when Edward leaves his seat, and flashes to the backdoor. As he breezes through the backyard, he says loud enough for the family to hear, "I'll be back. But let's begin making the arrangements now. File the flight plan, contact the caretaker, and I'll manage the rest."
Edward tracks the swiftly dissipating tendrils of Rose's scent through the forest near their home. When he's only a few feet into the dense greenery, he catches her mental voice, miles away and soft sounding. He has always felt responsible for the youngest Cullen and more prone to a parental role with her, mainly since she's the one who has had the largest need of it. The circumstances around her change are traumatic and tense, and they left her bereft, feeling hopeless and hardened, forever. So Edward has always had a soft spot for the tetchy beauty queen, given that her life hasn't turned out like she intended. Despite her disappointment, she's drawn her strength from within and learned to be happy in the face of tragedy. To Edward, her resilience and tenacity, combined with an unparalleled loyalty to her family, redeem her vanity and cruelty a thousand fold, which is why he's hastening towards her in the dark, dank, overly green Olympic forest: Rose, for all her faults and flaws, is his.
The closer he comes to her, the less sure he is about what he'll say, how he will approach the revelation of her jealousy, but when he sees her huddled posture, in such stark contrast to her normal regal bearing, his worries recede, and he's left wanting only to alleviate her hurt. When he comes to stand in front of her, it's clear that he'll have to initiate the conversation, if there is to be one. "I'm not sure I understand what this is about, Rose."
"It's just... why her? She's nothing special. You deserve... more." In her mind Rose is running over Bella's features, ruminating on her obvious inferiority.
Edward stops and listens intently to Rose's unspoken insecurities; Rose is attempting to come clean and save face, which only serves to infuse humor into the whole situation. "Have you considered that she is everything I have ever wanted? Do my desires not warrant consideration? Empathy is not your strong suit, and I admire you for that, but at least try to place yourself in my shoes."
"Ugh. She's just so plain."
"No," he emphatically states. "She is most certainly not. But she is human. And barely a woman." He places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes, "Give her a chance, Rosalie. I doubt you will be disappointed. I'm not."
"I will try."
He hesitant to press the issue, but conflict among the Cullens festers without expedient action. He gently states, "The matter of your jealousy remains undisclosed."
The memories and emotion conjured at his statement are enough to bring them both to tears, if they could only cry. "You get a fresh start like Emmet and I had. And maybe you can have everything we couldn't."
"Oh, Rose. I'm so very sorry." Edward feels a fool for being so obtuse, and he pulls her into an embrace where she sobs against his shoulder until her husband arrives. When Emmet gets close to them, hugging under several hemlocks, intermittent rain creeping it's way through the canopy, he thinks at Edward, I've got my work cut out for me tonight, huh?
As Edward hands the distraught woman over to his burly brother, he says quietly in Rose's ear, "Bella will need you to guide her. As far as I know, you're the only human who ever loved a vampire and lived."
Emmet pipes in, "Good looking fellow, too; talk of the town." It's not enough break Rosalie out of her emotional reverie, but both men glimpse the ghost of a smile, and it's enough.
Edward takes time for a quick hunting trip, taxed after a full day encased in Bella's intoxicating scent. Not minding his direction, he proceeds into an unfamiliar area and encounters an entirely unpleasant scent; a noxious, fuming chemical reek signals the manufacture of methamphetamine. Then he hears the mental voices of the cooks, plotting their next distribution, and Edward isn't surprised to find that they've expanded into Forks. Nor is he stunned to learn that their primary target is the high school.
But the meth-heads stagger and seize when a malevolent force mangles their metal front door, and they are frozen in shock when it implodes and rips a hole straight through to the back of their hovel, catching one of their companions square in the torso, sending him careening around the room. Before entering, Edward hears the junkie's heart make one miniscule noise and go silent forever. With the electricity severed, his face is shrouded in darkness, so neither of the two remaining get a glimpse of him before he renders them unconscious with a finger-flick and trusses them up with some co-axial cable. It will be a while before they regain the wherewithal to wiggle against their restraints, but their struggles will be in vain, regardless; Edward's knot-making skills are rooted in his knowledge of hyperbolic geometry and quantum configuration space.
Utilizing his various chemistry degrees, Edward plays with the poison those fiends would have used to pollute other's bodies against them. The explosives he extracts are incendiary nightmares, a profusion of heat and light and violence that will eradicate the evidence of their existence entirely. When the unstable valence bonds begin to burn bright with oxygenation, Edward has already toted the two criminals some distance away. The explosion rends the air with a forceful shock wave even from the haven of several hundred yards. The flare is enough to leave a flash in his eyes and the heat crackles at the tissue of the two tweakers tied beside him. When he's confident that the fire-break he's furrowed will stop the flames from spreading to the adjacent forest, he makes his way toward the nearest police station, neither careful nor concerned about jostling the human cargo he has in either hand. After what seems like only moments, he deposits the unconscious criminals on the front step, who are loaded to the gills with their own incriminating drugs and vanishes unseen into the nearby forest.
He continues hunting, reclaiming his rationality from rage until dawn suffuses the ubiquitous cloud cover with faint light. Edward barely thinks beyond his body, scarcely leaves the comfort of his powerful stride, the slice of teeth through skin and fur, the comforting contraction of his throat around that soothing liquid. The one thing that reverberates in his mind, amidst the anger and astonishment at his actions, revolves around his own drug, that defenseless and fantastic human who has shattered every old paradigm in less than a week. It's clear to him now, and his thoughts run wild: I would kill for her. I would die for her. I will live for her. Every part of me, the monster and the man, needs her in every way. I love her.
A/N: My email inbox exploded today. I'm not sure what's happening or why, but I like it. Apparently, you people do, too. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, the recommendations, and your continued readership.