Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy. One of the highlights of Comic Con was getting to spend time with three of these amazing women.

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Dodge and Burn / Chapter 6 / A New Way

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Bella notices a small couch by the kitchen and drags it next to the bed. The large windows of the loft are a black void in the night's quiet darkness. After giving Edward a breathing treatment and getting him to take a few sips of tea, she stretches out over the stiff cushions and dozes off. Every few hours, she's awakened by his coughing or her discomfort and so she gets up and repeats the treatment and tea.

By morning, he's more lucid and she's encouraged enough that she makes a quick trip for groceries. Back in the loft she gets him to eat some oatmeal and take his medicine. She notes that he finally has a bit of color and his fever's almost gone. As he rolls over and dozes off again, she settles back into the couch with relief.

He's going to be okay.

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She's curled up against the couch armrest and nursing the last of her coffee when she realizes that he's awake and staring at her.

She smiles at him. "Hey. You're awake."

He smiles back. "Were you here all night?"

She nods.

Something must occur to him because he lifts his head so that he can scan the space. He looks back at her.

"Oh, God. Are you mad at me?"

She studies him for a moment before shaking her head.

"To discover that you live alone? I don't know if I'd say I'm mad…I'm disappointed you lied to me, but I wouldn't say I'm mad."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't honest."

"We all have our secrets, Edward."

He lies quietly and watches her. He can't believe after everything that happened that night and what she now knows, that she's here taking care of him.

When their eyes meet again she smiles softly at him.

"You know that irritating friend of yours?" he asks.

She laughs. "You mean Michael?"

"Yeah, him. He was right about one thing."

"Really? What's that?"

"You really are something special."

She looks at him for a moment, but it's almost too much, so she gets up and cleans off the accumulation on his bedside table.

"I'm going to make you some more tea."

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He's sitting up when she returns. She tries not to look at his defined chest and shoulders when she hands him the tea. The man is way too handsome for his own good.

"So how long has Lauren been gone?" she asks simply, as she settles back down on the couch.

"Gone?" He rubs his free hand roughly over his face. "Actually, I moved in here over a year ago, after I found out about her affair. She's still in our house."

"Wow, it feels like you just moved in. You haven't settled in much."

"No, I guess I kept waiting for her to come get me."

"And…"

"It doesn't look like that's going to happen. From what I hear, she's still with the guy." His expression falls as he looks around his place. "I'm pathetic."

"I don't think you're pathetic because you still love your wife. What is the human spirit without hope?"

"Yes, I've been living on hope, but I'm almost out of gas. I'm pretty much getting by on the fumes lately. Alice, my cousin's wife, says our marriage was over before the affair. I guess we'd grown apart more than I'd realized. I've mastered the art of denial."

"Yes, but the fact that you still wear your ring says a lot."

"I guess I've been trying to convince myself and the world for so long that my marriage isn't really over that I feel like if I don't wear it I'm admitting defeat."

"I think it's beautiful that you've loved your wife that much. It says a lot about you."

He shrugs sadly. "A lot of good it did me. I hoped we'd be able to work on it and figure out what went wrong, but she served me with divorce papers in January. They're still in my desk drawer." He nods towards the desk.

"I'm so sorry," she says softly.

"Yeah, me too."

Bella gets up and opens the balcony door. The fresh air breezes over them and makes everything a little lighter. Edward sips his tea slowly as he gazes out over the view.

After a few quiet minutes of them both lost in thought, Bella turns back toward him.

"Do you know the serenity prayer?"

"Is that the one about accepting the things you cannot change?"

She smiles, not surprised that he focuses on that part. "Yes, but it's also about finding the courage to change the things you can."

"Yes, I know." He sighs.

"You may not be able to change these circumstances, but you can still live your life with courage and change what you can. Sometimes happiness is closer than you think, just waiting to be found."

"I don't know about that," he says quietly, tolerating her greeting card-speak.

"I believe there's a purpose to everything. There's a reason you and I were supposed to meet and become friends. Maybe even this wretched illness was your body trying to purge some of the pain out of you. It brought me here to help you, and who would have believed that after the way we parted."

He nods as he listens and suddenly sits up straighter, looking intense.

"What have I become? What is my life, Isabella?"

"I believe it's whatever you want it to be," she replies.

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After lunch she convinces him to take a shower and she changes his sheets again. She hunts through his piles of books so that while he takes his breathing treatment she can read to him. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply as she reads aloud Raymond Carver's short story, Cathedral. He almost looks content.

When he's done, she cleans up one more time and gets ready to head out. He looks forlorn.

"Hey, no sad faces, Mister. I need to take a shower and deal with my life for a bit. I'm going to bring you dinner later and make sure you take your meds. After that you're on your own.

"You're not going to sleep on the couch again?" He grins.

"Ah, no," she teases back.

"Will you read to me again tonight? I liked that."

"Maybe…if you're nice." She's glad to see him coming to life again.

"I'll be so nice that you'll never want to leave."

She arches her brows. "Then you better get a much more comfortable couch."

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..~*~..

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She's putting things together in her kitchen when Leah calls.

"Hey, woman, where've you been? I've been trying to reach you since last night."

Bella's so tired that she doesn't think before she speaks. "I've been at Edward's. I just got home a while ago."

"That man whore?" Leah howls into the phone.

"I thought we agreed he wasn't a man whore, just a confused man."

"Let us not be derailed by semantics. The real question is why you were with him and what about his wife?"

"Today I learned that his wife left him over a year ago. She's already served divorce papers."

"Oh great, so he's damaged goods who lies to women about his situation. Why are you even giving him the time of day? This guy sounds like a real winner."

"I don't know, Leah. I called him to get his address to return his money and he was incredibly sick and alone, and the mom side of me took over. I ended up taking care of him."

"You took care of him? Oh, that's rich. Why in the world would you do that? Are you Mother Teresa or something?"

The more Leah rants, the less Bella cares. She's hasn't cared for a while about what people think of her unpredictable behavior, and she's not going to start now.

She can't resist being just a bit provocative. Leah is fun to rile up. "You know what else? I'm cooking for him right now and then I'm heading back over there to take care of him some more."

"Jesus, Bella. Did zombies come down and suck out your brain? Why are you allowing yourself to be taken advantage of?"

"I don't feel like I'm being taken advantage of. He didn't ask for my help; he asked me to leave when I first got there. But it's hard to just walk from someone you once cared about when you see them completely broken by life and circumstances."

"Aren't you still pissed at him? If I were him I'd be afraid you'd poison his soup."

"Well, I was disappointed with him for lying to me, but at least I know now that he wasn't actually cheating on his wife. He lied to me about being married, Leah. Usually the crime is when a man hides his marriage."

"True, but…"

"I can offer him friendship without compromising myself. I've made peace with what happened, and I think we can help each other. There's a reason we were meant to meet. Don't you think?"

"Hell, I don't know. But promise me if he's an ass again you'll forget about this friendship thing."

"I promise."

"I've always said you are too good, Bella."

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..~*~..

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"Did you bake me something?" he asks with a grin, when she returns holding a platter of cookies and a bag of food.

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him sitting on the couch strumming his guitar. He's got on old jeans and a T-shirt and although she can see how weak he still is, he's a million times better than the night before.

"Yeah, I spent my afternoon baking for you because I haven't done quite enough for you yet," she teases.

"You have a generous heart, Isabella."

"That I do." She unloads the food as he quietly plays. She looks over and notices that he must have shaved while she was out. "You're looking much better."

He nods. "The shower helped a lot."

He watches Isabella when she's not looking. She seems at home, opening cabinets and moving through the kitchen with more comfort than he's ever seemed to have. It's good to have her there. It gives the place a life it never had before.

Dinner is a stew with good bread and butter. He can't eat much yet, but she tells him how long to microwave it when he wants more. She makes him take his antibiotics and goes over the dosages. Finally, they do one more breathing treatment and he gets so relaxed that he starts to fall asleep again.

She takes his arm and leads him to his bed. "Come on, you need to lie down. Why don't you just take off your jeans, you can sleep in your boxers and T-shirt."

He leans against her half asleep and starts to fumble with his waistband.

"Here," she says gently as she helps him, popping the snap and pulling down his fly. She eases the jeans off his hips and lets them fall to his ankles. He watches her as she sinks down to the floor and finishes pulling them off as he sits on the bed, too exhausted to help. He has to turn away, he's so moved by how she's cared for him. He thinks of how his father would have loved everything about this woman.

As she gets everything in order and pulls the bedding around him, he whispers, "I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you've done. You're an angel, Isabella."

She smiles and then settles down on the couch watching him until she's assured that he's sound asleep. Once she's certain, she gets to work. An hour later when she finally lets herself out, she leaves with a full heart, knowing that she was able to help him when he needed it the most.

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..~*~..

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He doubts he's in Heaven, but the melodic sound of chimes makes him wonder. If this is Heaven, it's a nice place with clean sheets, a cool breeze blowing over you, and the warm sun on your face.

He opens his eyes slowly and blinks. "Why is the balcony door open? And where's that sound coming from?" He looks up and notices the wind chime from Isabella's back porch hanging just outside the door.

He sits up to look for her, but the couch is empty.

With the next breeze the chimes softly ring. It's a gentle, ethereal sound. It soothes him.

He slowly realizes that something's different about his place. His eyes scan the loft with wonder. Was there a party while he slept?

There's color everywhere, bright bunches of Gerber daisies in orange, yellow, and fuchsia on the tabletops and those Mexican paper string of banners he's seen on Olvera Street strung from one end of the space to the other. Each colorful square has delicate cut-outs of festive shapes. There's even a thick blanket striped with every color draped over the little couch.

He laughs out loud. What has she done?

When he reaches for his phone, he notices a card on his bedside table. Next to it is a miniature artist's easel displaying a print of a tiny painting. He studies it, then looks over to his huge painting and shakes his head as he opens the card.

Mr. C~

I figured it was time for more color in your life.

It's never too late to look at things in a new way. Even the tiniest painting can make a big impression.

~Bella

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She picks up after two rings.

"I see we can add decorator to your many lists of accomplishments," he says.

"You like it? Well, you said you didn't want me to leave, so I thought I'd leave an impression of me," Bella says happily.

"My favorite part is the little tiny painting on my bedside table."

"Oh, that's not the only one. There's a few others scattered about. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'm feeling much better. You know what I'm thinking?"

"What?"

"Like it's time to look at things in a new way."

He can almost see her victorious smile through the phone.

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..~*~..

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"Have you been a good patient?" Angela teases Edward while she checks his vitals. Bella can tell by the way she's handling him that Angela is pleased with the progress of his recovery.

"What do you think, Ms. Isabella? Do you think I've been good?" He gives Bella a wide grin.

He's been pretty charming since he's been feeling better, Bella notes. Everything about him feels lighter.

"Pretty good," she agrees. "He's stayed on top of his prescriptions." She feels a little awkward watching his exam, but he insisted that she come into the examining room with him.

"Just 'pretty good'?" He looks indignant.

Angela takes a step back, folds her arms over her chest, and gives him a mock stern look. "Yes, Mr. Cullen. I heard you were rather demanding. Baked goods, frequent visits, and I heard you overused the nebulizer machine."

"Oh, yeah…where can I buy one of those? I got the best ideas when I was using that thing. It's a great high."

"I had a hard time getting him to bring it back," Bella adds.

Angela makes some notes in his folder before closing it. "You don't need that, Edward. Just keep up your exercise routine once you're strong enough. Anyway, you're looking good. You clearly have robust health to bounce back so quickly."

"I'm still tired all the time though," he complains.

"Yes, it's still going to take a while before you're back to normal. I don't know if you understand how seriously ill you were. I don't like thinking about what might have happened if Bella hadn't gotten involved and called me."

He reaches over and pulls on her shirttail. "Look at that…you saved me." He smiles warmly.

Angela's expression gets somber. "I know you're being playful, Mr. Cullen, but I'm serious. There's every possibility that Bella did indeed save you." She gives Bella a hug goodbye and then shakes Edward's hand before heading out to see the next patient.

"Saint Isabella," he whispers as he stands up and buttons his shirt.

"That's me." She rolls her eyes, but underneath all the humor they both know that they're forever connected by their journey in the last week.

"Come on," he says, opening the door for her. "I know you have a shoot this afternoon, but let me take you to lunch first."

"Where are you going to take me?"

"Somewhere fancy…fit for a saint."

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..~*~..

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"Okay, another ten," Leah barks.

Bella makes a face and starts doing crunches again.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, nine, eight, seven…"

Bella stops. "What the hell kind of counting is that?"

"It's the counting that gave you your flat stomach. So quit yapping and get to it."

When Bella finishes the last round she rolls over and groans. "I think your ponytail's too tight today. You're being especially hard on me."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So tell me…how are things with that man? Has he kept his hands off you?"

Bella gives her an exasperated look as she gets up. "You know when you finally meet him, you aren't going to remember his real name."

"When am I going to meet him? Maria keeps asking, too."

"When I know you're going to behave."

Leah tosses her the medicine ball. "Seriously, Bella, what's going on with you two?"

"It's good. We're friends and it's nice. Things are easy between us. Comfortable."

"So you're over your attraction to him?"

"You're sounding like Michael now. No, I doubt I'll ever be over my attraction to him, but I'm clear we're better as friends. Besides, he has a lot of stuff to come to terms with about his ex and he knows it. At least now he's working on it and not just in denial."

"Is he still playing music for you?"

"Yeah, he says he owes me a lifetime of sessions after what I did for him."

Leah raises her eyebrows but doesn't say anything.

"What?" Bella asks.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

Bella folds her arms in anticipation.

"You'd be smart not to drink when you guys are together. This whole 'friends' thing is charming and all, but get enough booze in you and the truth will come out. I'd be willing to bet hard money that you'd end up fucking like bunnies."

"Ugh! Do you think I have no control of my actions?" Bella asks defensively.

"Don't get all haughty with me, missy. You are a very sexual and sensuous woman and you better believe he knows it. I think you guys are skating on UST thin ice."

"UST?"

"Unresolved sexual tension."

As Bella tosses the medicine ball back, she feels the fire move up her thighs and across her chest just thinking about Edward like that.

Unresolved sexual tension indeed.

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..~*~..

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Edward paces back and forth in his loft. Finally finding his resolve, he goes to his desk and pulls open the drawer. The damn document is lying right where he left it many months ago, and now it glares up at him in all its stark white reality.

Carefully lifting it out of the drawer like it's fragile, he thumbs through it nervously, once, twice, a third time, before he finally sits down and begins to read it. His stomach curls at the word "divorce" and his heart thumps every time he reads Lauren's name in the jumble of legal speak.

At one point, he throws the document down on the desktop and curls over, resting his face in his hands while his elbows dig into his knees.

Damn it all.

He takes a sharp breath and picks the papers up again. Over the next hour, he goes through this process over and over, each pass searing him like a sunburn. As with a failed marriage, there's a price you pay for staying in the sun too long.

He's raw and red, his edges on fire, but he also senses that if he perseveres this will be the worst of it. He will eventually shed this skin and start anew.

When he's finished reading the manifesto of marriage-failure he takes his phone and steps over to his sliding glass door and pulls it wide open. He steps forwards and leans over the railing before dialing his brother-in-law at the office.

"Emmett McCarty's office."

"Hey, Kathy, it's Edward...is he around?"

"Oh, Edward, he's going to be so glad to hear from you. Hold on."

"I can't believe it," Emmett says when he gets on the line.

"Sorry, I know…I've been hibernating and out of touch."

"Yeah, Rosie's been worried about you. How the hell are you, anyway?"

"I'm doing all right. I'm finally trying to get my shit together."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it. You know Rosie's going to want you to come for dinner. The kids have been asking about you. Eric's been taking guitar lessons. Rosie thinks he has your gift."

"Really? I want to hear him play." Edward smiles, and immediately feels bad realizing how much he's missed. "Well, tell her I'll call and we'll set something up."

"Will do. She's going to be so happy."

"And one other thing, Emmett."

"Sure man, what is it?"

"I'm ready to start talking about the divorce."

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xoxo

abbie

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