We shall have an open mind, and not let a little bit of truth check the rush of a big truth, like a small rock does a railway truck. We get the small truth first. Good! We keep him, and we value him; but all the same we must not let him think himself all the truth in the universe.

Dracula, Bram Stoker

Chapter 21 - Titles and Identities

I'd woken up around 10 am to find myself alone. I knew that Edward had to be back in London for a meeting by noon, but a feeling of sadness settled in over me. So much to make up for, and yet so little time.

I showered, dressed, and went downstairs to meet Esme for an early lunch. She peppered me with questions about yesterday's excursion, what I thought of Whitby, the ruins, a million and one questions designed to draw me out. But in answering, I invariably drifted back to my time with Edward, and would find myself lost in thoughts that I didn't want to share.

"Earth to Bella," Esme called. "You are a million miles away. If I didn't know better, I'd think your brain and or your heart left in a black Aston Martin this morning."

I smiled and looked down at my glass. "Am I really that transparent?"

"Only a little. I also remember how that whole 'young love' thing feels." Esme paused as she took a sip of her iced tea. "I never thought I'd see Edward like this though. I've only known him for a few years, but he's never been one to exude happiness. I saw him briefly before he left this morning. The conversation was very invasion of the body snatchers. I expect Alice to laugh, not him."

I had to smile at her statement. There were so many different facets to Edward, almost like there was a different flavor for each one of us.

She pushed back from the table. "Would you like some more tea?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you." I ran my finger around the rim of my glass, trying to collect my thoughts.

"Go back to London, Bella. I can tell that you are only half here. Whatever happened between when you showed up here and now is a good thing. Go with it."

I glanced up to see her smiling at me, an expression of understanding on her face. "Go home, Bella. I think he might be waiting for you."

Home. That little nudge was all it took. I gave Esme a quick kiss on the cheek and bolted up the steps to my room. I tossed everything in my bag as quickly as I could, and then slipped across the hall for one last look around.

My first observation on our suites had been that they better suited for a honeymoon or a weekend away, and had hoped to someday make it real.

I took in the fireplace, the flowers on the mantle, and the rumpled bed sheets. I got my wish faster than I expected.

I grabbed the vase and made my way back downstairs.

Carlisle and Esme waited for me by the door, his arm draped around her shoulders. There was such a natural chemistry to them; it was apparent that they loved each other very much. I couldn't help but wonder if Edward and I could have a relationship like theirs some day.

Over the course of the last two days I'd come to realize that I wanted that very much.

Dropping my bag to the floor, I reached out to grasp Esme's hand. "Thank you for everything. I came here to make the book that has been my life for years real, but I ended up with so much more. I can't tell you how grateful I am for everything."

Carlisle smiled as Esme stepped forward to give me a quick hug. "You'll always have a place here, Bella. And I do hope you'll send me a copy of your dissertation when it's done. It would be a wonderful addition to the local folk lore section of the library."

I laughed and hugged her back. "I'll make sure you get a copy. It's probably not the most scintillating reading, but it's the least I can do."

They stood in the doorway, watching as I made my way to the car. I tossed my bag in the trunk, and opened the driver's side door, giving them one final wave before climbing in. A folded piece of paper caught my eye as I tried to stabilize the vase in the passenger seat. My name was written across the front in bold script, and a sprig of purple azalea peaked out from the crease. The stem of the azalea was ragged, as if torn off a bush.

And I couldn't help but smile. I wonder if Edward had ever bought a flower in his life. He appeared to have zero compunction with raiding other peoples' gardens. It suited him though; heaven forbid he ever do anything the normal way.

I let the car warm up while I unfolded the note. My hands shook a little bit, not from anxiety, but from anticipation.

Bella;

I didn't want to wake you, lord knows that you need your rest, and I have to get back to London. I will be home later this evening and I will call you.

You started talking in your sleep around four. Something about daffodils and salad dressing. I wish I could crawl inside your head and understand what you were dreaming about. Was it as simple as a salad with flowers? Or was there some deeper, hidden meaning in your words?

I find myself analyzing everything about you. What you do, what you say. And then in the midst of dissecting something profound about you, I find myself distracted by the way you run your hand through your hair, or how you twist the ring on your index finger. I can't seem to separate the need to know and understand everything about you with the need to touch you or feel you.

It makes me wonder if I will ever be able to control the desire I have for you. It's all consuming, and makes it difficult to think about anything else when I am around you. But at the same time, I revel in it. No one brings that out in me. Only you.

But I take solace in the knowledge that I bring that out in you too. To see you flustered, distracted by something I do. You are so transparent sometimes, that it's all the more tempting to play with you simply to elicit a reaction. To make you blush or look away because you are embarrassed, or to push you knowing that you are too shy to ask. It's not about seeking your discomfort. It's knowing that you react the same way that I do.

I don't know which awes me more, that you want me, or that you trust me to want you in return. I have not done much to earn that trust, and I will never take it for granted again.

And so here I sit, watching you sleep. Wishing that I didn't have to go back to London. I'd rather be curled up around you in bed, listening to your breathing, reveling in your warmth. Wondering what strange and fantastic dreams were running around in

that wonderful imagination of yours, and fighting the urge to kiss you until you wake up, so that I can make love to you yet again.

You just smiled in your sleep. I wonder if you are dreaming and if so, of what.

I admit I hate to leave. Not simply leaving you, but leaving here, leaving the moment. I don't know what to expect when you return to London. I wish that I could hide you away in my flat for a few days. I want to talk to you, make you laugh. I want to be able to come up behind you at the kitchen counter and kiss your neck and feel your heart beat accelerate because I'm close to you. I want more time where it is just us. Time is not our friend right now, and I'll do everything I can to control every minute if that means more time with you.

But my meeting today is important. I've been unhappy in my work for a long time. I feel like a horrible human being to say that; what I do is important, but it's not fulfilling. When I first started in research, I think I did it out of a sense of guilt. A way to atone for not seeing, not being able to help. But thanks to you, I've come to realize that it was just another way to close myself off, and I can't do that any longer. You've inspired me to look inside myself and find the good.

There is a spot open in pediatric oncology. They could use someone with my experience, and apparently my rather youthful appearance is seen as a positive factor when dealing with children as patients. If they accept me, I'll be moving into rotation at St Guy's. For the first time in my life I will be actively participating, practicing, helping.

You give me the courage to do that. I sat back and watched for too long, it's time to go live, you are leading me there.

So here I sit, on the brink of a new chapter in my life. And all I can do is stare in wonder at you. You are tangled in the sheets, your arm thrown across the bed as if reaching for me. My wildest hope is that you are dreaming of me. I'd like to think that I invade your every thought, regardless of if you are asleep or awake; it gives me more time to be with you.

So sleep, my beautiful irrational Bella. Sleep and dream of me. Know that I wish I were here with you. My drive home will be filled with memories of you. And while you might expect that it will be dominated by our time in bed, first and foremost, it will be of you, asking for me to take you back.

Know that I never let you go. I love you. I don't know how not to. While you might see me as a cynic, deep beneath lays the heart of an optimist. You own that part of me.

Edward

Dropping my head against the seat back, I closed my eyes and lost myself in his words. How much everything had changed in one short trip. I had been wrong about so many things, and yet here I was with another chance to try. A better chance because I wasn't letting my perceptions skew things. I was confident in my feelings for Edward. In his feelings for me.

In what could be.

I folded the note back into quarters and held it against my chest. He wasn't even in the same county and my heartbeat was accelerated. And yet I basked in it. I had been so afraid of the uncertainty, of not being able to catch my balance that I had missed how much it brought out for me. In me.

Dropping the note onto the seat next to the vase of flowers, I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. Selecting the browser icon, I typed in 'meaning azalea flower' and hit submit. When I read the results, I had to laugh.

Azalea: Fragile and Ephemeral Passion

Nothing Edward did was random, even picking a sprig of flowers to leave with a note. He knew what he was doing, the message he was sending. We were fragile, and our time here was fleeting. But it gave us something to grow from.

I backed up to the main screen on my phone and tapped out a quick text.

No way was the flower choice random.

The reply was almost immediate

Why ever would you say that?

I shook my head and laughed while typing out another quick message.

Leaving for London, will call you when I get home. Knock 'em dead, Doc!

I fastened my seatbelt and pulled out of the courtyard. London represented something to me now. When I'd first arrived in England, it had been a chance for redemption, a way to prove that I could accomplish what I set out to do. But now it was more. I had friends here. I had Edward, although putting any type of title to him felt odd. He was simply my Edward.

Mine.

I couldn't have wiped the grin off my face if I tried.

An audio book occupied me for a good part of the drive back. I allowed myself to get lost in characters and a ridiculous plot line about the niece of the president being kidnapped. Not once did I think about my life, my dissertation, or what came next. Very simply, I enjoyed the drive and the inane plotline.

I was about 15 minutes from the flat when my cell phone rang. Turning down the volume, I picked it up to see Emmett's name on the display. I'd missed him, and I sure as heck had a lot to tell him.

"Hey Red Neck. How are you?"

He groaned, but I could tell that he liked it. "Please don't call me that. I am a well educated man whose daddy didn't marry his cousin, thank you very much."

"I have the urge to make livestock jokes, but I'll behave. How are you?"

"I'm okay. More importantly, how are you? Dare I say it, you sound, good…maybe happy?"

I put my phone on hands free so I could rest it in my lap and keep my hands on the steering wheel. I was still challenged to drive on the wrong side of the road, and I didn't want to risk anything.

"I am good, thank you for asking. This trip ended up being exactly what I needed. I am actually heading back to London now. Will I see you on the home front?"

Emmett pulled in a deep breath, and I could hear things rattling around on the other end of the line. "You are coming back today? Shit, I am having dinner with Rose tonight at your place. She has finally cut loose the limey; we are going to actually sit down and talk about us."

"Don't re-route your plans on account of me, I can steer clear." My curiosity was piqued by the news that Rose had finally broken up with Royce, but I had a feeling that mine might not be the most welcomed call at the moment. Rose had a tendency to get a bit defensive about ex-boyfriends, and given the terms on which we had last parted, I highly doubted that she would spill her guts willingly.

"No, that's okay, I can figure it out. I'm not going to force you out on your ear when you don't have anywhere else to go."

I was sitting at a traffic light, when I saw a familiar black car pull into the intersection in front of me.

"You know what, Emmett, totally not a problem. You go right ahead with your plans."

"Are you sure? What are you going to do?"

"I have it all figured out. I'll fill you in later, I've gotta go. Good luck tonight!"

Emmett wished me a confused goodbye, and I quickly pulled up the number I had texted earlier.

"You aren't home already, are you?" He didn't answer the phone with a hello. He knew who was calling.

"No, still in transit. Just wanted to call and see how things went." I stayed a few car lengths behind, hoping that he wouldn't recognize the car.

"Very well, actually. Just left the hospital, and am on my way home now. I think that I turned the charm on enough to have won them over."

"When do you ever not have the charm turned on, Dr. Masen?" I teased as I continued to follow him through London. The street we were on seemed familiar and I saw his turn signal go on before he pulled into the garage of his building.

"An eight year old almost did me in. I am going to have to brush up on my children's literature. Apparently I was uncool because I didn't know what a lemony snicket was."

I laughed at his mock indignation. I could envision Edward sparring of with a feisty eight year old. This might be better for him than he realized.

"So what are you going to do tonight?" I asked innocently as I maneuvered into an open spot down the street.

"Get out of this suit, first and foremost. Then maybe wait for this lovely little American girl I know to get home. I was thinking I could lure her out and do all sorts of debauched things to her."

The words sent a shiver through me. Focus, Bella, you are playing a part here.

"Well, I am going to pull off and grab something to drink. I'll give you a shout when I get to London, okay?"

I could hear him fumbling with his keys. He must be at his door. "Drive safely, Bella."

A couple had just entered the building, and I ran up the sidewalk, calling out a request to hold the door. The man gave it an extra push, and I caught it just before it latched closed.

I hadn't paid much attention to the lobby on my hasty retreat weeks prior. An elevator bank was at one end of the room, with a door leading to the steps across from it. The couple I had followed in took the stairs, and I needed a minute to collect myself, so I hit the call button and waited for the elevator to descend.

The building was older, and it took a ridiculous amount of time for the old brass cage to make its way from the first floor to the third. I took advantage of the time to shoot Rose a quick text message to let her know that I was back, and would see her tomorrow.

By the time the doors opened, it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I stepped out into the hallway, and looked for the doorway to the stairs to get my bearings. We had come out and gone to the left last time. I turned right, mirroring my actions from the previous visit and stopped short of a black lacquered door with the number 302 on it.

My phone beeped just as I was about to knock. It was a text from Rose.

Back in London, but will see me tomorrow? Yes you will, with details!

Smiling, I shot back a quick reply telling her I expected the same thing, and then turned my phone off. Taking a deep breath I knocked twice.

On the other side of the door I heard motion, followed by Edward's voice. The door swung open as I heard him say "…yes, I do owe you…."

He froze in the doorway, charcoal grey flannel pin striped suit, white shirt, and midnight blue tie loosened and hanging slightly askew. He stared at me for a long moment before breaking out in a wicked grin.

"Alice, someone is here. I'll call you back later." The cell phone was tossed on the entry way table, and before I could register the motion, Edward had flipped me over his shoulder.

I heard the door slam behind me as Edward carried me into the living room.

"Stopping for a drink, are we? Call me when you get to London, will you?" He dropped me on the couch, and stood over me, hands on hips. "When did you become a little sneak?"

"What, like you are the only one that's allowed a surprise visit?" I sat up, and smiled at him innocently. He was happy to see me.

Edward sat down on the edge of the coffee table, and reached out to skim his thumb across the edge of my lower lip. "I'm just surprised to see you is all. I'd already started working through intricate plots to get you here once you got home."

"Edward, I'm a relatively modern girl. 'Hey, Bella, you have anything going on tonight' tends to work most of the time."

"Oh really? It all seems rather anti-climactic, doesn't it?"

I leaned forward so that my face was inches from his. "No, it seems like cutting through the bullshit and saying what we think."

"Hmm, is that what it is?" His hand slipped up into my hair, our eyes never breaking contact. "Well then, how about this? Bella, would you like to come over? We can order some dinner, make out on the couch, and then go to bed and pick up where we left off early this morning?"

"Oh, so that's how it goes, eh? Feed me and get me into bed? I take it you have more of a stash than what was in your bag?"

"We can go straight to bed If you'd prefer. I'll let you find out the rest."

I crooked my finger at him, indicating that he should come closer. He leaned in a slight bit, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Closer please."

He leaned in a little bit more.

"You are going to be difficult, aren't you?"

"You're the one that's a modern girl, why not be direct?"

"That sounds like a dare, Edward. Fine, I dare you to ditch the tie and jacket and make out with me on the couch…" I let my words trail off as Edward impatiently pulled at the knot of his tie. "After I get a drink."

He stopped in mid tug. The immaculate Windsor knot was undone, and the blue silk hung loosely from his collar. I reached out to grab hold of the wider end, and moving hand over hand, slowly pulled it free. I never broke eye contact.

"Have any Diet Coke?" I asked, trying to appear innocent.

The expression on Edward's face was absolutely priceless, and I realized that for the first time, I had managed to throw him off balance. I smiled and raised my eyebrows in curiosity. I was really enjoying the concept of equality.

"Payback is a bitch, Bella." He stood and held his hand out to me. "Especially when you ask for a drink that requires ice."

We made our way into an immaculate white and stainless steel kitchen, where Edward found something for me to drink.

With ice of course. Most made it in the glass. Some went down my back.

We spent the evening curled up on the couch, talking about his interview, how he felt about treating patients, and what it would mean for his work schedule. And of course, we'd break into intermittent make out sessions, which weren't miserable either.

All in all, it felt like a night that any normal couple would have.

"I am really glad I saw your car on the way home. It never would have crossed my mind to stop here."

"Really? Why is that?" Edward angled his head back so he could see my face. We lay facing each other on the couch, his arm around my waist, my leg draped over his hip.

"I don't know, I guess I haven't allowed myself to title this yet," I pointed back and forth between the two of us, "And without that, I guess I don't know what's presumptuous and what's not."

Edwards arm tightened around me, pulling me in closer. "Shouldn't we be past all that after the last 48 hours?"

"But we aren't talking about the past anymore, remember? This is future tense."

"Lectured on sentence structure by an English major, is that what my life has been reduced to?"

I gave him a jab in the chest. "Watch it, I'm going to be a doctor too, you know. Then I'll make you eat those words."

Edward pushed my hair back from my shoulder, his gaze focused on the motion. "I guess the answer to your query ties directly to that doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your time in London is based solely on your dissertation. We've already discussed that you have to go back to the States to defend it. That kind of puts a natural bracket on us, doesn't it? A beginning and an end, so to speak?"

I hadn't allowed myself to think on his questions yesterday regarding my dissertation. I'd hoped for a bit more time to figure things out before having the conversation.

"What if I don't want it to be an end? What if I want it go keep going?" I was certain in my declaration, although I had no clue how to make it happen. There were still so many things in the air, of which only a few I had control of.

"Then what do you want, Bella? I've made it abundantly clear where I'm at. I need you to come clean too."

I slipped my arm out from underneath his, and pushed the hair back that had fallen in his eyes. He always seemed so collected, so confident in his thoughts, in his needs. I envied his conviction in stating his thoughts.

"What do I want? I don't even know how to articulate it, Edward. I've always focused on getting my doctorate and teaching at some cool little college somewhere. But here it is late March, and the likelihood of me being done in time to find something in the fall is slim to none. I'll probably have to take some type of job on campus or in a library to make ends meet while I write some research papers to build credibility. That puts me at least a year out from finding a teaching position somewhere. I have more than enough money saved up to make it a four or five more months of not working, but then what?"

"That's your education, Bella. I meant us."

"It is about us, Edward. I'll get my dissertation done; I'll have my doctorate, but then what? I need to find a job, which will determine where I live. You are taking a new position, which means you aren't likely to leave London, and I kind of have to go wherever there is a spot open. A year of no work is all I budgeted for, and I already put a steady dent in those funds."

"I have more than enough money, I can take care of …" I cut him off before he could finish.

"No. I appreciate that, but no. Just…no." I had to laugh at his idealism. Three days ago we weren't really speaking, and now he was offering to take care of me? While gallant, it was also very eighteenth century. "I've let too many people take care of me for too long. It's time I take care of myself."

"I am only being practical, Bella. We both want the same thing. It only makes sense…"

"Let's agree to this, Edward. Call us whatever you want. Hell, call me whatever you want for that matter. There is no where else in the world that I would rather be than with you. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise. I am not ready to give up on us."

"And what about in the meantime? What are we?"

He spoke quietly, and I wasn't sure where he was headed with his questions.

"What do you want us to be?"

"Hmmm…" Edward stared directly into my eyes, bringing his hand up to trace the hollow at the base of my throat. "I may need to play with some options."

I swallowed in reaction; he knew exactly how to make the simplest statement sound…indecent.

"Let's see…option one could be 'significant other.'' He continued to run his finger around the hollow of my throat, eyes never leaving my face.

"Too clichéd." My answer was too fast. Edward smiled; He was right, I was transparent, at least when it came to him.

"Wouldn't want that now, would we? Very well then, option two could be 'object of my affection.'" His finger completed the circuit and slowly shifted lower, pushing open the placket of my shirt to trail down along the edge of my bra.

"Or we could go with option three, 'beloved.'" He leaned in; his lips were on my shoulder, slowly kissing his way down the path he had just trailed with his finger.

"That's a bit of an awkward introduction at dinner parties." My retort was shaky, and Edward chuckled against my skin. Coherent thought was slowly slipping away, taking with it my ability to get out a decent response.

"What if I have a 'for public consumption' title, something innocuous and boring like girlfriend? Then I can call you something different when we are alone?"

"Like what? Honey? Darlin'?" I over annunciated on the darlin', mimicking Edward's greeting the first day I met him.

He lifted his head to look directly into my eyes. "That or maybe something more appropriate. I was thinking more along the lines of lover, although I am rather partial to mine, even if that's not a proper title. Then again, I know that no one else will be calling you that. At least not if I have my say about it."

I could feel the blood rush to my face.

Edward sat up on the couch and swung his legs around to stand up. "Come on, it's not that late, but somehow I think I would rather continue this conversation in my room. Preferably sans clothes."

He pulled me up off the couch, and reached over to flip off the end table light.

I couldn't help but notice the cluster of photos on the table. Alice and Jasper. A photo of Alice and Edward with an older couple, who I assumed were his parents. Edward and Carlisle standing on a ski slope somewhere, poles resting against their shoulders.

And one empty wood frame. It still held the manufacturers fake artwork behind he glass.

"That's yours. I picked it up at the hospital gift shop today. Seemed like place to start. I just need something to put in it, you know."

Edward was watching me intently.

"What do you mean, it's mine?"

"You are a smart girl, Bella, figure it out. Now come on." He grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him towards the bedroom.

And I followed willingly, realizing that when I woke up to get water or food in the middle of the night, it would be my picture frame that was knocked off the table.

Mine. Whether it was a description of me or my place in his life, I didn't care. So long as I had it.

That's all I wanted.