All characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. All original characters and storylines belong to some chick in the mirror that makes faces at me when I peek.

Check out my blog for updates: gkkstitch-gkkmouse(dot)blogspot(dot)com

A/N: It's been a long hard road, and it's shocking to think I started writing this a year ago. I look back on everything that has happened this year and I find myself totally intimidated. Happiness and sorrow, successes and failures. Through it all, the best has risen above it: the friends I have made.

Irishgirl, a Michigander who has always been there for me, letting me rant, letting me bounce ideas off her, letting me vent RL and Fandom frustrations.

Emmanuelle Nathan, my newest friend and previewer whose boundless enthusiasm and relentless optimism helped me get through these last few, and hardest, chapters of the story simply because I did not want to disappoint her.

Philadelphic, another Michigander who has been my secret keeper as I have been hers. We've whispered plot bunnies to each other, snickering and shocking each other with our ohmygodyouareNOTgoingtodothat moments. All over a very polite cup of coffee or falafel.

Songster, whom I only "met" in January, and became a wonderful, snarky, insightful, diligent, and loyal friend through one of the worst fanwank experiences of my fannish life. She's my Usul, the strength of the base of the pillar. (Yeah, Dune reference)

LolaShoes, whose stories gave me proof that there was a love worth sacrificing everything for, and so Rolle's quest was born. She's been a friend, and a supporter, and secretly given more into this story that anyone will ever know. It all started out as a bit of lark, catering to a giggling whim, and grew into something more, better, sweeter.

And to you readers who review with such insight and heartfelt appreciation... you have left me speechless. I don't have many reviews, but those that I have are not sparse of words or wanly glowing. You have not reviewed simply to see a review counter go up. You reviewed because you were truly touched and wanted me to know. I have replied to all of you. All of you. My replies are never copied and pasted. Each of you has a part of me, just as I have a part of your and your expressions of fondness. Lola once made the comment, "You don't have a lot of review, but you have really intelligent reviews." For that, I lower my head in thanks.

Chapter 22: Epilogue

Her phone vibrated, alerting her to a text message. She glanced at it and frowned at the blunt message. 'where r u?' Rachel didn't recognize the number and turned her attention back to the meeting. It buzzed again ten minutes later. 'did I copy the wrong number?'

She pulled the phone closer and replied, 'who is this?'

'from paris' was the cryptic reply.

She stared at the phone, her mouth going dry. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to be trying to reach her racing heart. She looked up, not seeing or hearing the meeting any more as her mind spun in a million directions at once. She looked at the phone again and tried to type a reply. Her fingers were shaking and it took several attempts to type the few letters, and then she couldn't find the question mark even though it was right in front of her.

'rolle?'

A smiley emoticon was the reply.

Rachel stood up and left the meeting, leaving her other things behind, hoping her colleagues would think she was simply going to the bathroom. She exited the room and moved down the hall.

The phone replayed the earlier request. 'where r u?'

She shook her head at the notion that Rolle was texting her, glad that she hadn't smashed his phone in Paris as she had wanted to. She quickly replied, 'san francisco conference'

His message came back too fast, as if he'd already typed it and was waiting to hit send. 'can i c u?'

She smiled at the phone, almost giddy. 'y'

'pier39 at the bronze seals'

'when?'

'tonight 6?'

Rachel put her hand over her mouth, not really believing what she was seeing. She typed a single 'y' and pressed send. As soon as she sent that, she typed another message to him, not wanting to let herself believe what she suspected.

'r u here?'

The smiley emoticon reappeared, followed by a second text with :* which made her laugh out loud. She jumped on the balls of her feet in a happy little dance before she remembered where she was and fought down her smile, failing miserably.

~•~

Rachel pulled out her phone and clicked on her text messages again with a thrill of anticipation, scrolling over the message for the hundredth time. The rest of the afternoon was wasted for her. She barely heard a word anyone said during the presentations. She couldn't even remember the name of the other scientist she had been introduced to from her alma mater. Her leg began bouncing impatiently again as she looked up from her phone. She had to force herself not to huff at the cab driver and the slow crawl of San Francisco rush hour traffic. The trip from the Moscone Center was too far to walk, but at this rate, she wondered if she couldn't have made better time on foot.

By ten past the hour, she was beginning to get angry though. What if he left? What if he thought she changed her mind? What if he thought she was waiting at the wrong place?

When she suddenly remembered her phone, she wanted to slap herself on the head. She smiled down at the message again when it reappeared, her fingers lightly touching the words on the screen, then quickly typed out, 'don't leave! stuck in traffic'

'not going anywhere' appeared in their text window. Rachel quickly added the number to her contact list, adding Rolle's name there beside it. When she went back to look at her text messages again, his name appeared next to all of his responses. A smile melted across her face and she read over the entire conversation again.

~•~

When the cab pulled onto Embarcadero, she leaned over in her seat to look up the sidewalk, but there were too many tourists. She snapped impatiently at the cab driver to just let her out, then sheepishly gave him a large tip for putting up with her and offered him a weak smile in apology. In her hurry to get out of the door, she snagged her purse strap on the handle and was jerked backwards as she tried to close the door.

"Sorry, sorry," she huffed absently, taking a deep breath to calm herself down, and methodically worked the strap free from the door. She closed it slowly and securely before moving deeper onto the sidewalk, being overly deliberate about each step. She closed her eyes and tried to count to ten, but gave up after three, scanning the sidewalk for Rolle. She was still half a block away from where they were supposed to meet. Unable to stop herself, she covered the distance in something between a quick walk and a slow jog, cursing her beloved heels for the very first time. The statue of the bronze seals slowly came into view.

He was there sitting on the base of the statue. His eyes were closed in an expression of deep concentration. She stopped twenty feet away and just stared at him. He looked as beautiful as she remembered. Though the clouds were thick in the sky, his pale hair seemed to glow around his head. He wore a dark blue long-sleeved t-shirt and gray jeans. Before she could take another step, his head turned in her direction. When he opened his eyes, he was looking directly at her. As recognition lit his eyes, she felt herself smile and closed the distance to him in a dead run; heels be damned.

He laughed as she hit him, then squawked "Whoops!" as his feet backed into the statue, toppling them backward. He miraculously caught himself against the statue's base, sitting with a thud, and never letting her go. The entire stunt brought her onto his lap with their arms entwined around each other, laughing the entire time. They tried to kiss through their smiles, which was almost impossible and made them laugh even more.

Still trying to manage an honest kiss, Rolle tried to tease her, "Do I have to ask you to kiss..." but he was cut off as two things happened at once. He lowered a hand to her waist, the other pressed to the small of her back, and Rachel pulled her arms down to run her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. Their eyes met stone cold sober at the shift. As if a gate had been thrown open, the laughter died from them both and hunger consumed them in a torrent. Suddenly, nothing was funny and they couldn't kiss deeply enough; their hands could not pull the other close enough.

She knew when he left Paris that there was something between them. She couldn't explain how she knew, but there was something new in his perpetually sad eyes. It might have been the sweetness of his kiss goodbye, his lips lingering longer than expected. It could have been his tenuous glance, hesitant and filled with doleful confusion. Maybe it was the tension in his neck and shoulders that gave away his desire to turn and look at her as the train pulled away. The way he kissed her now was altogether different. Whatever the amorphous fleeting thing was she had sensed from him on the train platform in Paris was here now, stronger and more animated. Whatever it was, she wanted it. By the taste of his searching tongue, he wanted it to. She felt heavy and warm. Rachel heard herself groan and thought he'd put an end to this exquisite torture. When he groaned low, she knew he couldn't.

It was a seagull that reminded her where they were.

"No, no, no..." she murmured through their kiss, moving her hands to his chest in an attempt to slow down whatever this was. She pushed him gently away and tried to sit back to put some distance between them. Rolle's lips followed her, trying to stay in contact by craning his neck toward her even as he allowed her to push him back. "Rolle," she gasped sharply, closing her eyes with a wry grin as she panted, shaking her head. She ran her trembling hand over his cheek, trying to catch her breath, panting as if she had run a marathon.

He smiled and ducked his eyes, embarrassed. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't ever be sorry for that," she chuckled, still catching her breath. "It's just... the location."

When he looked up, the hunger was safely secured. He looked like his old soulful self again, his somber eyes touched with happiness to see her.

Rachel smiled again and threw her arms back around his neck, rocking him playfully. "I'm so glad to see you!" she laughed again. She stood up and pulled him with her. "What are you doing in San Francisco?"

He started to say something, then stopped to try again, and stopped again. "Ask me again later," he said hesitantly.

Rachel frowned, losing part of her smile. "Oh-kay." She remembered the one part of their time in Paris that she had wanted to forget. He had been just as withholding of information then, too. She didn't like that about him, but at least he didn't shut her down entirely, she told herself. He had left it open for later discussion, so she decided to let it go — for now anyway.

"How long are you here?" she asked instead.

"Definitely today," he answered quickly, trying to make up for his lack of response earlier. "Maybe longer." He took her hand and began walking along the sidewalk.

"What about that job? The thing in Italy?" she asked, pulling his upper arm close and holding it to her.

Rolle looked out across the bay. "It wasn't a good fit," he said and she could tell by his tone there was more to it, but did not press him about it. He was here with her now, after all.

Rolle noticed her shiver. "You know better than to come down here without a jacket," he scolded, pulling her close, trying to rub some warmth into her with cold hands.

"Conference, remember?" she justified. "My evening plans involved room service and HBO, not sightseeing."

"Come on," he said, adamantly directing her to the nearest open air vendor.

Rachel tugged a new fleece jacket over her shoulders, smiling shyly at Rolle who was passing over several bills to the shopkeeper. She couldn't say so, but she was secretly delighted at his care and concern for her.

He continued that very same vigilance by grasping the hem of the fleece and working the zipper together, tugging it up slowly.

"Better?" he asked.

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him lightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he whispered.

He lightly took her by her elbow, turned, and led her back down the street to the sound of gulls overhead and seals in the bay. The Embarcadero held the usual complement of tourists and buskers. Rolle stopped walking suddenly in the center of the sidewalk and held Rachel back. She turned to look at him, confused and he tipped his head toward the sidewalk ahead of them. She turned to look at what he indicated seeing nothing but pedestrians. Suddenly, a busker disguised as a trashcan leapt from its place at a tight group of teenaged girls. All five of them squealed in surprise and bunny hopped five feet away, scattering away from the attacking waste receptacle. People who had been watching the innocuous can dropped money into a nearby hat, still laughing.

Rachel laughed and hugged Rolle's arm. "My hero," she teased. "Protecting me from the horrors in the world." Rolle smiled but her teasing did not get the laugh from him that she hoped for.

They continued on toward Pier 41 turning into the large plaza where the sightseeing tours sold tickets for the many ferries along the wharf and tourist trips. They walked by a sandwich board advertising tours for the aquarium, the Ayala Cove, Muir Woods, as well as ferry service to Alcatraz and Angel Island.

"Have you been to Alcatraz?" he asked her holding hand as they walked past Blue and Gold's ticket booth.

"When I was seven," she laughed, covering her face, embarrassed. "I almost passed out in the isolation chamber."

Rolle laughed and gave her hand a squeeze. "It was a heck of a lot smaller than I pictured, and nothing like the movie. Would you want to see it again, or should we keep sightseeing? We could just walk down to Ghirardelli's, or go over to Golden Gate Park." He smiled at her. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" she asked, stopping to face him.

His smile grew and put his hands on her hips. "I have seen that look before," he grinned knowingly. "Yes, whatever you want."

"In that case," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I want to do something you've never done before."

Rolle laughed suddenly and she knew by the sound that he was truly amused. It was a full and easy laugh, one she did not hear from him often enough. "Oh, honey, there's a lot I've never done before. I'm not a land creature. We could do anything here and it would all be new to me."

She swallowed heavily, trying to control her expression, knowing it was useless anyway with him. "I want... " she started, looking over his shoulder at the sky line. "I want..." She sighed unable to decide on one thing she wanted to do with him. She wanted to do everything. "I want to watch the sunset and make out like teenagers." She turned to him and laughed a relieved, happy sound.

Rolle's expression became thoughtfully amused and without further hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to the curb waving his free hand for a taxi. Rachel looked at him startled by his sudden decision, but Rolle only smiled back at her before handing her into the car.

"Marin Headlands," he ordered the cab driver as he slid in next to her. "That was easy," decisive Rolle said, very pleased with himself.

"I guess so," Rachel laughed back at him.

He wrapped her arm through his and grasped her fingers again as the cab wended its way down the boulevard, passing tourists and shoppers along both sides of the street. They drove through the Marina district and eventually made their way onto the highway. The evening traffic was getting lighter along the bridge, and the view was spectacular as a glowing white mass behind the clouds started its slow dive toward the horizon.

Rachel leaned her head on Rolle's shoulder with a sigh watching the sporadic fog begin to dapple the mouth of the bay. She may have looked like she was considering the view, when in fact all of her attention was attuned to his body next to hers, his arm around her, his fingers caressing hers.

"It's pretty, isn't it," he whispered to her. "I've always loved the ocean."

Rachel hummed in agreement just enjoying this time with him more than anything else. She stifled a shudder when he pressed a kiss to her hair then began nuzzling the crown of her head.

As soon as they were over the bridge, the cab pulled off the highway and into the main entrance to the headlands. Rolle directed the cabby to take them up to the bunkers. The drive to the top was slower as the cab moved along the winding road, slowing to pass bikers, joggers and other cars pulled to the shoulder for the scenic lookouts.

The cab continued upward around several more hairpin turns until the remains of the fort were in sight. They heard the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels as the driver pulled off the pavement and came to a stop. The wind blew in sporadic gusts through the grasses and scrub oaks.

Rolle paid the driver and climbed out, holding out his hand to help Rachel out behind him.

His old-world gesture was not lost on her. "Such a gentleman," she said, her tone carefully balanced between gratitude, appreciation, and teasing.

Sensing that he wanted to wait until they were settled somewhere before talking, they wandered the ruins of the old World War II fort. The headlands were magnificent. The twisted weave of rocks were rust-colored with stripes of algae green through them. Wildflowers bloomed in a variety of colors, dappling the rolling hills, which were broken in turn with stark concrete structures built low to the ground. Ominous gun windows were slotted through the structures as a reminder of the readiness for war.

The ocean spread out before them, San Francisco sparkled behind. An army base nestled deep in a valley in the distance. Rows and rows of barracks were stacked next to each other.

They wandered through the cement buildings and peeked into a few bunkers. Those that were easily accessible, looked like they were well used by partying teens or vagrants, or both, filled with debris or smelling heavily of urine.

Rolle helped her over a crumbling wall to get closer to the edge of the cliff. With a smile, he pointed out the lighthouse at the mouth of the harbor. A heavy fog bank was building up just outside the bay. Rachel's gaze traveled down the length of his arm, following his finger out to the white structure perched on the rocks far in the distance. Pelicans peppered the sky.

Rachel glanced up at him, she found Rolle looking back at her. She couldn't resist herself. Leaning into him, she kissed him lightly. His eyes closed as the kiss began to bloom into something more. She sucked his lower lip between hers and startled when voices shouted nearby. They turned to look at the source. Two parents were trying to herd their five children back to the van. Two of the youngsters were already climbing over the fallen wall that Rolle and Rachel had gone over.

Rolle scanned around them finding too many visitors to his liking. He looked back at Rachel. "Will you trust me?" he suddenly asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Of course. Why?"

Rolle slowly bobbed his head back and forth a few times as if trying to find a diplomatic answer. "I know a place close by that has a bit more privacy, but it's kinda hard to reach it."

"Where is it?" Rachel asked. Rolle hesitated again, and Rachel shook her head sharply, not wanting his evasiveness to ruin the mood. "Fine. Yes, I trust you. Just do whatever you have to do."

Rolle's smile took on an unfamiliar, devilish quaility. "That's my girl," he said, and took her by her hand again.

Rachel found herself repeating his words: my girl, my girl. She was so flustered by what he said, that she stopped paying attention to what he was doing.

He had led them closer to the cliff and urged her to climb piggyback onto him. With a glance around to make sure they weren't seen, he muttered, "Hold on," and jumped down easily a couple feet onto a low outcropping of stone. From there, the word 'easy' could no longer be applied.

With a last glance back, Rolle clutched the stone face with his fingers and swung them out over the side of the cliff.

"Oh, shit! Rolle!" Rachel gasped, clutching him tightly around the neck and hooking her ankles around his hips.

"It's okay," he said softly. There was no strain in his voice as he nimbly made his way down the cliff. "Don't look." He moved out another few feet. "Trust me."

Rachel began to worry she was choking him, but everything about what was happening seemed easy to him; too easy. He moved along the steep rock as if he were walking on a flat surface, gripping tiny crevices with his fingertips like he was holding an egg. He made it look effortless. 'Strong' and 'free-climber' were added to her list of things she knew about Rolle Tylor.

She peered up and calculated that they had descended about twenty feet when Rolle's body moved oddly. She clutched tighter and heard a sharp kick and splintering of wood. She felt Rolle's body jerk slightly again and with one last kick there was a muffled crashing sound. In a single motion they were standing in a small bunker.

"It's okay now," he told her, running his hand over her arm that she had clenched around his neck.

Rachel released him and looked around. The space was barely as big as a walk-in closet. A splintered panel of plywood lay newly broken on the dusty cement floor. The walls were carved directly from the rock and were jagged. The very back of the room had a heavy metal door. Bare copper wire ran through a hole that was drilled through the rock.

"What is this?" she asked as Rolle tossed out the splintered remains of the wood that had boarded up the opening.

"It's a spotter's turret," he explained. "During a battle, the spotter would be able to radio back the adjustments in artillery fire."

"How did you know it was here?" she asked.

Rolle looked around and shrugged. If she didn't know better, Rachel would have thought he was being evasive again, but there was something in the innocent confusion in his expression that stopped her from accusing him.

"So why are we here?" she asked.

"To watch the sunset," he reminded her. "I don't think you can get better seats than this."

She turned to look out the opening and he did have a point. The view was utterly spectacular. With nothing but the ocean before them and yet so far below, it almost felt like they were flying, hovering on the updraft like the gulls that hung stationary in the sky with only the slightest variations in motion.

"Balcony seats?" she observed wryly.

He reached for her. "Only the best," he answered quietly, pulling her gently to him.

Rachel let him guide her toward him. She raised her hands, letting her fingers drift slowly over the planes and contours of his shoulders and chest. Rolle's smile faded slightly at the touch, his eyes going unfocused when she stepped closer.

"You said something about making out like teenagers," Rolle breathed, his hands resting at her waist.

She smiled with all of herself, sliding her hands slowly up his chest before lacing her fingers around the back of his neck. "Mmm, I did."

She nuzzled her nose against his neck, placing small kisses there and looked at him expectantly. He answered her unspoken question with action, lightly touching his lips to hers in a kiss as shy and chaste as a teenager's then paused to let his breath kiss her lips. He looked at her once again with contentment and a twinkle of surprise in his eyes, and kissed her tenderly as she pressed her body into his, letting the kiss deepen.

Rolle dragged his hands over her waist, his thumb finding a small opening at the hem of her blouse that had pulled up from her slacks when she locked her hands around him. She gasped into his kiss when his thumb slid into her shirt just below her navel. She pressed her hips into his hoping his hand would stray farther as she touched the tip of her tongue to his bottom lip. When he did not reciprocate, she dragged her tongue along the soft cool skin and massaged it between hers. He relented with a soft groan as his tongue slid along hers.

His fingers lightly rested against the outside curve of her breast, definitely a brazen move for a teenaged make-out session. When his thumb stroked over her nipple accidentally on purpose, she changed teenaged make-out to college dorm room. She slanted her mouth over his letting him know she wouldn't stop him this time. She pressed her breast into his hand with a soft whimper. He fully palmed her, kneading and lifting her. Rachel squeezed her thighs together aware of her growing arousal.

"Rolle," she breathed into his kissing mouth, now beginning to squirm with her need for him.

"We're missing it," he said against her lips.

Rachel broke the kiss, but did not move far. "What?"

"The sunset," he whispered, kissing her lightly. "We're missing it." A smile played around his lips.

Caught up in the delicious caressing of his fingers, she glanced over her shoulder at the sunset. "Mmm, beautiful," she murmured, pressing her breast into his fingers.

Her purr turned into a plaintive pout when he moved his hand and turned her to face the sunset, wrapping his arms around her. While she did not want to complain about him holding her, she felt it was definitely a step backward from where they were going a moment ago.

Still, the sunset was beautiful. The sun had sunk behind the fog, but a break in the clouds overhead lit the horizon with oranges, yellows, pinks, purples and blues. When Rolle turned his attention to her neck and his hand moved across her stomach to rest in the outline of her breast, Rachel lost all interest in sunsets. When he sucked her earlobe between his lips then flicked his tongue into her ear, she wasn't even interested in the fact that they were in California. She wanted more of those lips and turned in his arms. She kissed him tenderly, molding her lips around his.

It was like a dream. Since their time together in Paris, there hadn't been a day to pass that Rachel hadn't thought of him. She thought about what she would do if they accidentally ran into one another. She thought about what she would say if, on that hypothetical day, she found that he was married. She had even Googled his name, which led to a thirty-five minute tutorial on Google of how to do a proper search, only to find millions of entries for that name and enormous varieties of spellings. She gave up the search when she realized it didn't matter. Rolle would be her secret smile when she was old and gray. He would be her dream lover, and had been on several occasions already! He would always be her secret night in Paris.

She never once thought he would be the one searching for her. She never thought there was the possibility that he felt the same. She wondered if he Googled her name, too. She wondered how he found out she was in San Francisco.

She didn't really care. He was here now. He had found her.

"I can't believe you're here," she whispered. There was something she wanted to tell him and she didn't want to think about it too much before she did. She rubbed her nose along his and pressed her forehead to his brow. "I think I'm falling in..."

He stopped her, pressing his fingers over her lips. "Wait," he breathed. He closed his eyes and shook his head in a tiny gesture as if he were trying to convince himself of an argument.

He took a deep breath. "Before you say anything, I need you to know..." He broke off with a flinch and a pained gasp. Closing his eyes, he took two slow breaths as Carlisle had instructed him, to help him keep control of his mind and thoughts, to know his own motivations before opening himself to those of other's. His brow furrowed deeply in concentration.

"Rolle?" Rachel watched him with concern.

"I'm okay," he said in a strained voice. "I need," Rolle tried again slowly, "to tell you some things."

"What kind of things?" she asked quietly against his fingers, her voice almost lost in the sounds of the waves bouncing around the small space.

Rolle moved his hand from her lips, over the contour of her cheek, then down her arm and gripped her hand. He sighed, still struggling with his own broken nature in order to tell her about Gillian. He repeated 'This is about Rachel, it's about Rachel' in his mind, forcing himself to focus.

"Things... about me." He looked down at the fingers he held. "I haven't been close to anyone in a long time," he began, taking a deep uneasy breath. "There was someone..." His voice broke and he stopped. His chin quivered and he clenched his jaw tightly to find his self-control. "She was everything to me," he was finally able to say though his voice was deeper with the emotions he was fighting. "We were only together five years when she was murdered."

His confession horrified her. Of all the things she expected him to say, this was the farthest from her mind. She thought back over her time with him: his behavior, his distance... so many things made sense now. Part of her wanted to comfort him, to apologize for his loss; another part of her knew it would do no good. Her distress for him slowly gave way to embarrassment. She had almost confessed she was falling in love with him. Confusion and doubt crawled into her mind. Why had he brought her here? Why had he searched her out? Why had he kissed her and held her the way he had only a moment ago?

"I had a... I guess you'd call it a mental breakdown when she died." Rolle raised his eyes and there was an apology in his gaze when he could finally meet hers. "I'm still a mess. I'm only realizing exactly how much of a mess I still am." He smiled weakly but there was nothing in it but sadness. "You might decide I'm not worth it, and I can't promise anything other than I know it's going to be hard."

Rachel folded her lips between her teeth, biting them as if it could keep her from crying for him.

"Please say something," he whispered earnestly.

Rachel drew a deep breath through her nose and held it a moment before releasing her lips. "I'm sorry," was all she could manage.

For an instant, Rolle looked crestfallen. He pulled on a feeble understanding smile for her. "Don't be."

"I can't imagine what you've been through, the pain and loss," she continued, lying to him now. She understood the pain and loss. She was feeling it right now and it was making her sick to her stomach.

Rolle started nodding as she had begun speaking, trying to make it easier for her. "It's okay. That's okay," he muttered. "I know it's asking a lot. I don't... It's fine," he said trying to sound stronger. "Getting to know someone is hard enough without that much history to deal with."

Rachel looked nonplussed. "What?" His words were confusing her. She didn't understand what he was asking of her.

"What you gave me?" he tried to explain. "That moment of peace? It's been a stolen moment of happiness in hell, like a gasp of air to a drowning man. I never thought I'd have that ever again." There was sad wonder in his eyes, but he knew what his reality was and it was unfair to expect her to want that much hardship when she could find someone who would be easier to love.

Rolle ran a hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head. "You made me feel things I thought I'd never have again." He closed his eyes, his mouth turning into a frown. His voice was thick with emotion again. "You were the hand that reached out to me from the dark, and I will always be grateful for that. For the first time in a long time, I felt connected to somebody."

Rachel's confusion grew with every word. It was the strangest break-up she'd ever heard of. Why did he feel so much pain over it? If anyone had a right to be hurt, it was her.

She looked out at the sunset fading to pale blues and grays now, and looked around the tiny secluded place he'd brought her. She thought about his tender care for her comfort, the fact that he found her when he could have simply forgotten about their entire affair. She remembered his hurt and disappointment when she had asked him if they were simply having a one-night stand. Rachel turned back and looked at Rolle, so forlorn and dejected, as if she was the one pushing him away.

"Rolle," she said softly, waiting for him to look at her. When he did, there was so much sorrow in his eyes that she felt a flicker of hope. She bit her lip for being weak and allowing herself to cling to it. "Why did you bring me here?"

He made a sound that could have been a sob or chuckle. She had a feeling it was both.

"A fool's hope," he answered with naked honesty, trying to keep her gaze like a man, but only partially succeeding. "I wanted you to say that none of it mattered after I told you everything, that it would all be worth it. And I'd make love to you right here between our worlds."

The spark of hope flared painfully, scorching her heart with its flames. "You think I'm saying you're not worth it?" she whispered astounded.

Now it was Rolle's turn to look confused. With a sudden surge of confidence, Rachel felt certain now that she understood why he was confused.

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and crushing her lips to his. "It's worth it," she insisted through the kiss. She tipped her head the other way kissing him again, and again. "It is worth it!" she repeated when he barely responded to her.

Though it took a long moment for her words to sink in, when they did his entire body responded to them. His arms flew around her and he returned her kisses with abandon, sinking to his knees and bringing her down with him onto the dusty floor.

Rachel held his face in her hands kissing his cheeks before Rolle dropped his head onto her shoulder and pulled her against his body.

"That's one," he sighed.

"One what?" she asked, pressing her lips to his neck.

Rolle shook his head and squeezed her tighter. "Not yet. I just... I just need this for a minute." He held her, unmoving, as if he were memorizing the shape and feel of her body in his arms.

Rachel combed her fingers through his hair, pressing her nose against him. The wind shifted and blew the cold and damp toward them as the sound of slapping waves below them grew louder. Though his body was as cool as ever and she was getting chilled, she still curled herself closer to him.

He sighed again and sat back enough to kiss her sweetly. His lips lingered against hers, savoring her as if she were a rare wine. Rolle raised his hand to their touching lips as if the touch could help him memorize it.

Her eyes smiled into his when they pulled back. "So you didn't come to San Francisco to find me and break up with me?" she asked timidly, her fingers toying with the shoulder seam of this t-shirt.

Rubbing his nose against hers, Rolle snorted softly and shook his head. "Just the opposite," he said, meeting her gaze steady now. "I wanted to see you," he admitted. His expression was earnest and honest. "Part of me knows I should stay away from you. Part of me wants to warn you away, to keep you safe."

She was only able to hear his words, not absorb them. His arms were clutching her as if he'd never let her go. "Why?" she breathed.

"I'm one of those bad things that happen to good people."

"No," she denied automatically. "No, you're not."

Rolle's gratitude at her naïve words made him smile. "You don't know me yet, honey," he said, tracing the side of her face with a finger.

"Not yet," she reiterated.

"Rachel, I'm serious."

"So am I," she maintained, pressing in to kiss him. "If you want this as much as I do then we'll work out the rest."

"It's not going to be easy," Rolle said, shaking his head even as his eyes begged her to be strong enough for this. "There's a lot of stuff I haven't dealt with. Some friends have offered to help me."

"Do you want me there with you as you go through this?" she asked, being serious for him.

"Yes," he whispered in a breath. "Do you want to be there? With me?"

She nodded slowly.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Yes."

"That's two," he muttered.

"What is?" she asked.

"I told Edward about you. He's one of my friends who has offered to help me," Rolle began. "He said I needed to tell you three things. He said I had to be completely open with you about these things and make the difficulties you'd face clear. No matter what your answers were I had to trust you to know what was best for you."

"Your friend sounds like a smart man," she said running her hands over his shoulders and neck. "You should follow his advice."

"I'll have to for a while," Rolle admitted.

"Have to?" Rachel asked, finding that to be odd.

Rolle nodded and swallowed hard as tension returned to his eyes. "He's going to try and help me. I don't know if I know how to be around someone all the time. I've pretty much been alone for almost seventy years."

Rachel blinked several times thinking she must have misunderstood him. "Seventy...? What?"

Rolle loosened his hold around her to give her space. His head bowed. His voice, when he answered, was soft and full of regret.

"I'm a vampire."

A/N: Yes, I'm grinning at you. SEND REVIEWS and there just might be a special treat for you. Maybe. We'll see. I'm still grinning at you, because I think I know what that last line has done to you. ::wink:: The question is... why? Why would Rolle end it like that? I look forward to your hypotheses of what you think he was thinking.

And now I get to really sing some praise. These are stories you MUST read if you like vampire stories! (if you want to know my AH favorites, you'll have to PM me)

Let your Light Shine, A Life Extraordinary, and This Hungry World, by Lolashoes. (really, anything by Lola)

This Buried Life, by my very own (and yes, I'm claiming her as MINE) Emmanuelle Nathan.

La canzone della Bella Cigna, by Philadelphic, and just maybe there will be a special treat for you!

Stranger than Fiction, by MasenVixen, a break-away canon story that goes AU from Edward's departure in New Moon.

And Osa Bella, by Myg. It's completely AU, but a great vampire story.