A/N- To those of you who have reviewed......AMAZING. Every review really pushes us to do more, so thanks isn't even enough. As always this insanity wouldn't be possible without beta extraordinaire off-the-deep-end. As always, let me know what you think!

***

There is a soft kind of tinkling music in the background, but it could just be kids laughing, I can't decide. I wind my way through the aisles and suck on a sour patch kid. This place really is too good to be true. Who knew there was a candy store on the third floor? Almost healed my day, a full bag of sour patch kids.

I stand below an absurdly large giraffe and feel perfectly small again, almost like a time machine all covered in cotton fur. I resist the urge to sink to its feet and wrap my arms around its legs. I'm sure that would frighten all the children. Instead I reach out an unsteady hand and simply place it on the base of its neck.

This place is about to make it onto my regular route; there is just too much to lose yourself in for it to not be fantastic. One day I'm going to live somewhere that feels like this; nostalgic and warm and a little bit too cheesy to be real.

I wander into the room filled with Lego and am transfixed. I sink down to one of the tables not caring that the five-year old next to me doesn't look apt to share. They are calling to me.

Soon I'm lost in the shapes and colors and what I've built looks more like a sad tower of Babel than anything resembling the castle I was going for. Oh well, the kid next to me hasn't done anything but hog all the green blocks. That was probably my problem, lack of green blocks.

Moving on, I find a mini Mecca; the video games. The smile on my face is immovable as I see the vintage Pac man machine. I hesitate as I see the two player console, but grab the player one handles anyways. Obviously I misjudged my talent as I am conquered in level one.

Suddenly the largeness of the store begins to close in on me and feeling small isn't such a good thing any more. I wrap my arms around myself and wish for another distraction. And yet I can't pull my hands from the controllers. The screen keeps blinking the horrible stats of my obvious defeat, but I can't move.

***

I should've figured that I'd end up here. I doubt Bella will be here, but I had to come. We had the plan and if I can't see her then I at least need to be somewhere Bella-ish. Somewhere I'd just feel simple and settled and okay.

I walk into the massive toy store and slip my hand into my pocket. There are children running around everywhere, laughing and crying and shouting. I just stand there and look around and up and wait for the peace that I usually only find when I'm with Bella.

I take a tentative step in, then another, and find myself on the escalator.

This is truly bizarre. I left my home, left my girlfriend, and came to a toy store. I take another escalator up but train my eyes down to the mayhem beneath me. Colors and toys and loud children.

I remember when my parents brought me here for the first time. I was six years old and threw a temper tantrum because they said it really wasn't practical to bring an eleven foot teddy bear home. I had already named the bear Buzz, we were already friends, and I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from him. I got over it a few minutes later when we hit the candy store upstairs.

Too bad we can't get over things as easily when we're older. We lose people and the hole doesn't get filled with anything—not candy, not perfect girlfriends, not other friends, nothing. The hole just stays.

I stop my ascent on the fourth floor and start walking slowly passed the Lego section. I used to love Lego when I was a kid. Until I got too big to build anymore.

I keep walking and stop dead.

Because I'm either hallucinating or Bella is actually sitting at an old Pac man machine by herself, holding onto the controllers but not actually playing the game. And God, why does she look sad? Bella's not supposed to be sad.

I walk slowly towards her. She's lost somewhere, her eyes are far away and maybe even a little wet. And I feel my heart constrict and squeeze in my chest because I can't stand seeing that look on her face.

In less than a second I'm standing next to her.

"Need some competition?" I ask softly.

***

His voice runs over me like water and I turn slowly to see if it came from my overactive imagination, or if he is actually standing next to me. There is a slight hesitation in that I know he can see my eyes and the promise of tears that is matted over them. But I can't be bothered to care because he's here. I bite the inside of my cheek as I assess my friend. He is different from the man I met at the office.

My friend never wears shiny shoes and always has at least one hole in his jeans. He also has the ability to smile and that was something the pencil neck definitely lacked. Like the smile he is giving me right now. His hands already latched onto to the player two controllers, his face hopeful and concerned.

Maybe if we don't talk about it we can pretend that he never left that lame ass message with Angela and I didn't swirl into awful memories at the sight of a rotten hot dog. Maybe we can even salvage this day.

"That depends? You going to be a better loser today than at the arcade?" I ask. The confusion on his face breaks through my layer of sadness and begins to draw me back out. Out of the haze of lost chances and stale sobs.

"Still Bella? Honestly you tricking me into thinking that a child was hurt and then pushing me away from the game hardly constitutes a win," he argues. That was an amazing move of skill if you ask me. Knowing exactly what would distract him long enough to ruin his obnoxious streak. Brilliance if you ask me.

"All that matters is that in the end my score was higher than your score. How that happened isn't important," I inform him. I will be kind and not bring up the fact that I schooled him on Dance Dance Revolution. I don't want to be a sore winner, just pleasantly smug.

My instant mood turn around is astounding even to me. It takes Emmett hours to break through to me when I've settled into my memories. He calls it 'emergency evacuation' and it usually involves ridiculous amounts of popcorn and unsuspecting people on the street below.

I turn my head back to Edward who is shaking his head and laughing quietly. He has so many laughs. The best one is when he actually lets it take him over, it's also the rarest.

"How was your day?" he asks. I want him to take the question back. I don't have the energy or desire to lie to him right now and I know that he will not be satisfied with 'not so good'. I press the button to cue up the game in an effort to avoid the question.

"Let's see your skills big talker," I tease. He sighs softly, but grips the controllers. Even using all my supreme mental skills I cannot beat him. He has an odd affinity to this game. It was probably something they practiced at pencil neck class.

I glare at the screen that declares him the winner and try to ignore his smugness next to me, but really I don't mind. It's harder to get lost when someone is with you. And the last thing I need right now is to get lost.

"You know I can beat you and talk at the same time," he says. The smugness has melted away and the concern is back. I want the smugness, damnit. It doesn't involve me looking fragile or weak or anything that would let him know how much I might actually need him. I look back at the screen like its revealing tomorrows winning lotto numbers and he nudges me softly.

"I know you're trying to avoid my question."

Can't argue with the truth. For a second I am tempted to pull him to the floor, wrap my arms around him and give him a big dose of the mess I really am. Instead I give into the reborn excitement of this place and reach for his hand.

I've led him through two rooms before I realize that I've crossed a line. My hand relaxes and releases his from my hold. I quickly wrap it in the bottom of my sweater trying to distract myself from the lack of warmth. It tingles and reveals itself as the traitor it is by itching to touch him again.

I slow as we enter the doll room and I'm mesmerized. If I had known as a small girl that all of this was possible, I would have held out for way more every time one of mother's friends left and she tried to compensate for lost time.

"Can I guess?" His soft voice prevents me from digressing back into the haze and I glance back at him. The concern is still there but he's trying to mask it by using a small smile. It almost works. Before I can move away again his hand has taken mine and my damn traitorous fingers curl around his like a vice. My fingers and I will be having a talk about that later.

Slowly, gently he leads me to a tiny table set up for tea. It's all I can do not to laugh as he sinks into one of the tiny chairs, his knees almost touching his chest. He tugs at my hand and looks at the chair next to him. I guess that would be my seat. I sigh as I slump down, my legs not nearly as folded as his are. There are some benefits of being short.

He stares intently at me and I know what he wants, but I have to figure out a way to appease him and not let him get involved all at once. The inside of my cheek begins to feel abused as I once again gnaw on it.

"Jake tried to corner you in the bathroom didn't he?" he asks. His face is the picture of seriousness, but I can see the mischief dancing in his eyes. The laughter bubbles out of me without my consent and I feel suddenly feel lighter. He squeezes my hand and grins at me. When did he get so good at making me feel better?

"Be nice to Jake. We've all been on the opposite end of a crush. Well maybe not the almighty Edward Cullen, but still," I scold. He rolls his eyes. The silence settles between us, but it's not heavy or suffocating, it just blankets us, keeping everything around us away.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he states quietly. And suddenly the burden is lifted. Like those were the magic words. I scoot my chair closer to him and closer to the table so I can use my arm not attached to him as a pillow. It's my comfort position.

"Sometimes I just get caught up in the past and it just has this ability to, I don't know, take over," I breathe. I don't look at him as I say it. I keep my eyes fixed on a glass cabinet holding Alice in Wonderland dolls. I suddenly desperately want one. I flicker my eyes back to his face and the concentration stretched across his features.

"And you can't push it away no matter how badly you want to," he adds and his completion of my thought makes my heart contract. Because as amazing it is to not be alone in that feeling, I would never wish it upon anyone else. Especially him. It's my turn to squeeze his fingers and he smiles softly at the gesture, but the strain in his face doesn't leave.

"Maybe I should ask how your day was instead," I offer. He shakes his head and the honesty and pain diminish just a little. He swallows and licks his lips before meeting my gaze again.

"Well, I'm starving," he answers. I laugh at his answer. I move to pull my hand form his, but he doesn't relent holding fast until I give him a look.

"I will give it back I promise," I tease and he loosens his grip just allowing me to slip away to dig through my bag. My hand feels through the mess until I feel the coveted plastic bag. I pull it from the depths and hold it over my head triumphantly. His eyes follow the movement of my arm, but he doesn't look nearly as happy as I am to see the bag.

Rolling my eyes I lower the bag and open it pulling a few of the gummies from it before placing them into his hand.

"Sour Patch?" he asks amusedly, "I guess it's better than tofu."

He wiggles his fingers making them jump in his palm before he throws them all into his mouth. I gasp at the action.

"You can't just eat them all at once love, they are best savored one at a time. The things I have to teach you," I mutter. He smiles openly at me the gummies sticking to his perfect teeth.

"And of course they are better than tofu. Who the hell eats that shit anyways?" I ask. And then comes the laugh. My favorite one. I savor it and am glad that I am here sitting at a table meant for a three-year-old eating candy with the only person who I could tolerate today and that means a lot.

***

Thank god her smile is back.

I try to compose my breathing and then run my tongue over my teeth to get the remnants of the Sour Patch off. "As delicious as that was," I begin and take her hand back, "I'm still hungry."

I squeeze her hand once, loving how small and soft it is. Loving the contact and how much comfort it brings. There's something so innocent about this… us sitting on tiny chairs that we don't fit in, holding hands, eating candy, and laughing.

"And I'm guessing nothing from the candy shop downstairs is going to be much better," she says.

I shake my head and open my free hand, palm up, for more candy. I haven't had candy in so long.

"I need some real food."

She looks around longingly and I can see her hesitation to leave all over her face. "Then what would you suggest? I have to warn you that anything resembling a hotdog is an absolute no."

I stare at her for a moment before raising my eyebrows and saying, "Anything?"

She nods gravely. "Yes. And don't think I don't know what you're saying." I can't help the laughter that bubbles up inside of me. "Dirty men and their dirty minds," she mumbles but there's a smile quirking on her lips.

"I'm not a dirty man," I protest. "Just a really hungry one." And horny but I'm better off keeping that to myself.

"I've told you my requirements," she says. "The rest I leave up to you and your obviously soiled mind. Food only please, love."

And there's the love again. And it's not just the word, it's the way she says it combined with the look in her eyes. And it's all just so fucking kind and genuine and caring. It does me in.

I stand up and pull her to her feet.

"How do you feel about Mexican?" I ask as we start walking towards the escalators. It's weird that I came here by myself in a completely different state of mind and am leaving with her feeling a million times better.

"I feel pretty damn good about it," she says, and if possible, my smile grows.

"I haven't had Mexican in the longest time. It's my favorite."

"If it's your favorite you should have it all the time. What are you, some kind of masochist?" she asks.

I chuckle and shrug. "It's the compromise thing, I guess."

We ride the escalators down, floor by floor, until we're on the ground again. I walk slowly only because I think she wants to savor it for even a moment longer. And then I stop, frozen again. Bella, not realizing that I stopped, crashes into me because our hands are still linked.

"A little warning would be nice," she says, coming around to my side. "You know, I'm not what anyone would call coordinated."

"Sorry," I mumble, my eyes fixated on the bear that seems to have shrunk since the last time I saw him. But it obviously didn't shrink, I just grew up.

"Friend of yours?" she asks softly and squeezes my hand.

I turn, looking down at her twinkling kind eyes, and I realize that I can share this with her.

"That's Buzz," I say and she drags me closer to the bear. I reach out a hand, feeling slightly ridiculous until she reaches out and does the same. "I um… we met when I was 6. I couldn't bring him home with me. God, I can't believe he's still here. After all of these years."

"It's nice to finally meet a friend of yours. I'm sure we'll be back to visit him again. Right?"

I look back down at her and feel so much gratitude, and some amusement, but mostly gratitude. I nod. "We'll be back, yeah." I tug on her hand again. "Later, Buzz."

We walk outside and the night is cool but nothing crazy. I take Bella's hand in mine and slip them both into the pocket of my jacket.

"Wanna walk through the park first?" I ask.

She nods and huddles close to me and I feel her tremble once. I look down and narrow my eyes. "You probably wouldn't be so cold if you zipped that up," I tell her.

"It's hard to zip anything up with one hand. Wanna give mine back?"

Oh.

Oh. I release her hand immediately and stuff my hand into the pocket of my pants. I haven't needed this for almost the entire night. I let the pad of my pointer finger run along the smooth metal of the ring as we walk in silence.

"Would you answer me a question, love?"

I turn towards her and nod. "Sure. What's up?"

"What exactly is it that you have in your pocket that demands so much of your attention?"

My fingers stop their movement immediately. She noticed that? Nobody notices that. I clear my throat. "What do you mean?"

"Every chance you get you shove your hand into your pocket and, well, I don't know what you have in there, but I know it's something and I'm just hoping it's a removable object and not just easier access to, you know, something not removable," she says.

I start to laugh at the blush that creeps over her face. She's adorable. "This is a little embarrassing for me," I tell her.

Her eyes widen when she says, "Oh, lord, if it's not removable then forget I asked."

I laugh again and shake my head. "No, no, it's removable, Bella." I laugh again and then wrap my fingers around the ring again before taking my hand out of my pocket. "I've just… well, no one's ever asked."

We stop walking and I hold my fist out. She urges me with her eyes and I slowly, so slowly, start unfolding my fingers until there it is. Sitting in the middle of my now sweaty palm glinting in the streetlight.

Her mouth opens slightly and then just forms an "oh."

I feel my heart begin to race. I feel like a freak. I shouldn't have shown her this.

And then she says, "So it's that serious then? I guess I should say congratulations?"

"Um…" I begin but she's already turned and resumed walking… speed walking? She's speed walking away from me. I slip the ring back into my pocket and walk quickly trying to catch up with her. "Bella? Bella, where are you running to? Why are you running away from me?"

She ignores me. Her breath is coming fast from the efforts of her speed walking. Why is she speed walking?

I grab her hand to halt her movement and spin her around. "Bella," I say softly. "Why are you running? What is it?"

"I'm hardly running. I just thought you were hungry and were in a hurry. And besides, I don't want your soon to be fiancé to show up and think I'm standing too close to you. I'm not sure if I could handle her insults today."

And then she spins and resumes her speed walk.

God, I'm an ass.

I all but run to catch up to her again. "Bella, will you stop for a second?"

And she comes to a complete stop and stares down at her feet. "I thought you were a multi-tasker. Now you can't walk and talk?" she asks.

She's hurt. I've hurt her. Fuck me. I walked out on my "soon to be fiancé" and didn't give a shit and now I feel like the ultimate scum for essentially doing nothing to a girl that I've only known for three weeks.

"Look at me."

She lifts her eyes and stares at me through her eyelashes. I reach forward and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Bella, I—"

"Edward?"

I sigh at the interruption. Who the fuck could I possibly bump into right now? I shift my eyes away from Bella's face and feel my heart stop beating.

This cannot be happening right now.

But it is. There's Cody and he looks exactly the same as he did all those years ago. Same sloppy grin and tattered Yankees cap.

"Is that seriously you?" he asks and comes rushing forward. "Holy shit, man! I never thought I'd see you again."

I feel dizzy as the memories come flying to the forefront of my mind. Memories that I had put away a long, long time ago. I try to force a smile and take his hand when he offers it to me.

"How've you been?" I ask and shove my hand deep into my pocket as soon as it's free. I press my thumb viciously into the stone.

"Good, bro. I've just been playing with random bands here and there. Do you still play?" he asks.

And then I feel Bella's hand as it slips into my pocket and she wraps her fingers around mine.

***

I decided to be the bigger person. He owes me words. Words that spell out what the hell a ring he carries around in his pocket should mean to me especially after being attached to the hand that so diligently attends to said ring. But right now, his whole body is tense and his face is pale and all I can do, all I want to do is help.

I slip my hand into his pocket and carefully slide my palm between his fingers and the ring. He latches onto it instantly and I swear he unwinds just a little. I smile at my small victory and bring my eyes back to the man in front of us.

You could never call him intimidating or even remotely scary and yet something about him has Edward completely terrified. He swallows roughly a few times and his eyes dart down to mine like I might be able to answer the question for him. I wish I could.

"No, I um stopped…after…yeah."

What sounds like gibberish to me seems to satisfy his…friend? I continue to look between them. They both are looking at their shoes clearly in another moment that I can't possibly break into. Edward grips my hand even more and I squeeze it back. I'm torn between walking away so they can talk about whatever this is and demanding that someone tell me what's going on.

"Yeah, that makes sense I guess. You two were, close," the man replies. For the first time in the conversation his eyes find mine. I want to wave obnoxiously. Yes, I have been here the entire time.

"This your girl?" he asks and both Edward and I freeze. It's my turn to swallow down my nerves as I wait for him to answer. It's his friend, I can't just speak up and why the hell is it taking him so long to reply?

"This is Bell….Izzy. Izzy, this is Cody," he states formally. Well that clears a whole lot of nothing up. And since when does he call me Izzy? It sounds so cold and formal coming from him.

Cody stretches forth his hand and I awkwardly use my left to shake it. My right hand is busy. God that sounds dirty. Edward and his stupid dirty mind rubbing off on me.

"It's nice to meet you." I say it simply because it's what you're supposed to say. He nods and starts to fidget a little. Edward simply looks at him. I tug on his hand and his eyes finally lower to meet mine. There is a pain there I can't even begin to address. Instead I decide to be his escape. I tilt my head towards the park and he nods swiftly.

"Anyway…we were just on our way," he motions with his head towards a destination I'm not sure of yet," to dinner….Bell….Izzy's hungry, but it was good to see you man."

It's a brush off if I've ever heard one, but Cody doesn't seem to mind. His head bobs along with Edward's words.

"Sure, sure. We'll have together sometime," he adds. Another thing people say because you're supposed to. I wonder what would happen if we all actually said what we meant. They dance around the issue of parting gestures and settles with a wave as Edward pulls me in the opposite direction.

"Now who's in a hurry?" I tease. The light tone doesn't slow him down and I'm thankful for my ability to walk fast. I wait a while trying to give him space. I begin counting lampposts as we rush past them. I allow him to pull me along, keeping my hand rooted deep in his pocket because I think that's what he needs right now.

"Would it be awful if I turned the whole conversation from the toy store around on you right now?" I press. His steps slow and he takes a deep breath.

"You can ask." I almost laugh at the way it comes out. Like I have been granted a great honor, but then the impulse dies inside of me. Because there are few things I would like more right now than to be granted access to his mind.

"Are you ok?" I ask. He pauses and looks at me oddly like he wasn't expecting that question. And I wonder if I asked the wrong one.

"That's what you wanted to ask?" I hate obvious questions.

"What else would I ask? If you wanted to give me all the sordid details of an obviously very uncomfortable situation, you would. All I really need to know is if you are ok," I inform him. I may WANT to know everything it may be nagging at me at this very moment, but I am not pushy. I don't like to be pushed and therefore I try not to push. He shakes his head and hides his eyes from me.

"Yes…no…I don't know," he sighs. I rub my thumb over the back of his hand. My fingers shift and I feel the metal object in his pocket. I almost want to revisit that conversation, but not being pushy.

"Do you think you could pick one for me?" I ask.

"I could probably settle on I don't know, but leaning heavily towards the no, not okay right now but will be if we stop talking about this. Does that work?"

It works perfectly for me. I start walking and pull him forward forcing him to keep walking in the direction we were headed.

"So where are we going for dinner that has nothing resembling a hot dog, but serves amazing chips and salsa?" I ask. I feel him relax next to me. I know how to avoid a topic, I invented the need.

"I like this place uptown...would that be ok?" he asks hesitantly. I want to smack him upside the head for asking. Why does he feel the need to have permission for his opinions? It is a quality that would piss me off in anyone else, but I am willing to overlook it in him.

"Anywhere you want."

And the sad part is, I mean it. Anywhere he wants.