My Blue Pixie

by maliciouspixie5

Edward has a ghost, sort of. It's a Pixie which has followed him for the last 20 years, unseen by anyone other than him. It began as a tiny blue spark that hung near him, time passed and his Pixie grew up and transformed into the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Is she real and if she is can he find her? Because he wants the real girl.

5. Chapter 5

MY BLUE PIXIE – FINAL CHAPTER

"Let me give my love to you.
Let me take your hand.
And as we walk in the dimming light
Oh darling understand
That everything ends..."
― Death Cab for Cutie

AN: Fitting quote! Sorry it took me so long folks to get to this point but that's life. If my life was less complicated I'd be bitching because I was bored.

Stephanie owns it, always has. I just like to dream of fondling Edward. Oh, you know you do too! You sick twisted gang of fan fiction readers/pervs.

Thanks to the lovely Idreamshoes for pre reading and giving such lovely and colorful notes and things to think of. It wouldn't have as much detail without her.

Also I would like to thank my new and very frosty at the moment Beta NanStew. She did a wonderful job. I'm sending you some warm thoughts from down here near the gulf. December 9 and it's a point or two shy of 70 degrees here. So make a snow angel for me….

Last Chapter

"Wow," I say as I fall boneless to Edward's side after another mind blowing orgasm. If I were human my heart would be palpitating out of my chest. I giggle. "If I were human I think things would have sealed shut by now, or maybe scabbed over." We had finally come up for air after a week. Yes, a week. But when it came to Edward, a week was not ever going to be enough.

"Well, that's not a picture I care to think about but it's a good thing you aren't human," Edward gives me that little smirk that just turns my insides to mush. He leans in for a kiss, and it's also a good thing that we no longer need to breathe. Minutes later he pulls away.

"What did you say Emmett's and Rose's record was? The longest they took to come up for air?"

"A month, if I remember correctly. I had to leave; they had the rest of us in such a state that I thought we would self-combust. I think though the second wedding and the night before they left for their honeymoon was the worst. Emmett brought along a copy of the Karma Sutra. It was his plan to start with page one and try every page. Well between the door and the bed they got stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yes, stuck in one of those twisted positions."

"Oh. My. God. What happened, how did they get loose?" I asked.

"I don't know, really, it doesn't matter. I say we try it ourselves and see for ourselves how we get loose."

"Mmmmm, you do twist me in knots, baby."

/\\\/\\\

Alice is in front of me artfully applying my makeup. My eyes are shut as she applies the eye shadow. "Almost done, open your eyes and let me just add a touch of mascara."

"Bella, be still for five more minutes," Rose request, "Almost got it." She is working on my hair. From the plans the girls have gone over for the last month it is some sort of intricately braided upsweep. "Got it!" She says as the tucks the last braid in place.

"Are we ready for the dress yet?" Esme asks with a big smile peeking into the room from the door way.

Alice is so excited she is bouncing in place. "Yes, yes, yes, go get it Esme." Esme flashes away and is back in less than a moment clutching a plastic garment bag. Laying it on the bed reverently she slowly unzips the bag. Inside is the dress of my dreams. Long and figure hugging cream colored crepe satin and French Chantilly lace. It has a deep-V neckline in front with long tapered button sleeves and a dramatic, laced-edged, cut-out in the back. It is a custom fitted dress, and it was worth every hour I had to stand drooling over the humans fitting and sewing it. I am very proud of myself; I didn't eat a one of them. I'm growing up!

I reach for it but the girls panic. Multiple screeches of "Don't touch, careful, and not yet," spew from perfect mouths and remind me that I'm still a youngling to this world. I tend to rip zippers off dresses and poke fist through button holes. Dressing myself for the first couple of months was a challenge. But again, I was busy molesting my fiance those months so nudity was the outfit of choice. I shut my eyes and think calm thoughts, take an unneeded deep breath, let it out. "I'm ready," I say and do my best to continue not to fidget as they pull the dress from the bag and slip the wrap from around me.

"Ok, step carefully into it and we will pull it up," I do so and Alice and Rose each hold an arm of the dress for me to slip into. I do so without any ripping sounds. After one hundred and fifty two buttons which only take seconds to button with dexterous vampire fingers, the mission is accomplished and I am ready for my wedding day.

"Guys, how is the set up going in the meadow?" I ask. "I have a little detour I want to make before I walk the isle."

"We have about an hour before they expect us." Alice says.

"Good, can I have a little time until then to take a walk?" Alice's eyes widen in fear of what I could do on a walk in this dress. "Not that kind of walk Alice. I want to pop in and see my family."

"You've been practicing?" Esme asks curiously.

"Yes, and I can go quite the distance now. I've popped in on the light house a couple of times. I have to concentrate really hard on the location of where I want to go. It wasn't that hard for me as a human, looks like it would be easier now with my vamp skills."

"You were asleep when you projected yourself to Edward so you have to learn to use new methods my dear" Rose says.

"Well, let's leave Bella alone for a little while and let her visit," Esme says as she shoos Alice and Rose from the room. "Have a good visit my dear," and she shuts the door quietly.

"Don't mess up my makeup!" Alice yells from outside the room. "Or your hair!" Rose adds.

I giggle at them and then sit back down in front of the mirror. I shut my eyes and think of Biloxi, salt air, the sound of the waves, oak trees, Beach Boulevard, and grandma's house.

/\\\/\\

Gran sits in her rocker with a well-worn book of poetry in her lap. I watch her from a corner of the room hiding in the shadows of twilight. She runs a finger over a dog eared page and the corner of her mouth crooks in a half smile. "Oh my little love, I miss you so." She whispers and lovingly strokes the poem on the page.

I step from the shadows, invisible as yet. I want to grab her and hug her but that's not possible. If I was here in the flesh with one paper cut from her book I could kill her in a moment's notice, uncaring till I consumed the last drop. I haven't mastered fresh blood yet, that will be a couple of more years yet I think.

Carlisle theorizes that one day I will progress to the stage where I will be almost completely able to control my power of astral projection to the point that it will be like I am really here. One day I may be able to touch, smell, and feel while I am 'traveling' without my body.

But for now I can visit and watch. If I try real hard and stretch that unseen muscle I am able for a short time to be seen and even heard. I so want to let her know that I'm ok. She is reading my favorite poem. It's called Evolution by Langdon Smith. My granddad gave grandmother a copy of it when they were dating and to me just expresses the meaning of everlasting love. It is what I found with Edward, he is my ageless, eternal love.

I can't help it. I have to try. So impulsively I start to quote the poem. Her head pops up, she hears me!

"Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,
Your hair is dark as jet,
Your years are few, your life is new,
Your soul untried, and yet —

Our love is old, our lives are old,
And death shall come again;
Should it come today, what man may say
We shall not live again?" I quote from the poem.

"I used to beg you to read me the Tadpole and Fish poem when I was small." I say and materialize filmy and ghostlike in front of her. She looks up startled and crosses herself. "It's ok, Grandma. I just wanted to tell you that I made it and I am fine." I am in my wedding dress so I guess I do look like a ghost all in filmy white. I'm lucky that I didn't scare her to death.

"Child," she whispers, "My girl." Her eyes light up and her smile is radiant. Her granddaughter is visiting. She pats the arm of the couch next to her rocker. "Come tell me of the wonders you have seen." Hmm, I don't think we are thinking of the same version of heaven. My heaven is in Edward's arms not wings and hymns.

"Sorry Gran, I wish I could stay but I can only hold this form for a minute or so." I smile apologetically.

"I understand my girl. I am just so happy to see you, I won't keep you. But if you can, go visit your family. You will be surprised, well maybe not. We have a new member now."

"A baby?" I smile and it takes up half my face. Winter is past, spring and new life has returned, and all is well in this world.

"Yes, the little boy you saw coming is here. Oh, and Bella, I'll be expecting you back for more visits." I smile and nod to her as I fade away.

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

I appear in my mother's kitchen. My sister's sit at the table while Renee stands beside the stove pours steaming water into the china teapot. My sisters are discussing the trip they took to England as they pour over loose pictures. It seems like they are making a scrap book and the debris from the undertaking litters the kitchen table.

"I fell in love with Beachy Head," Caroline sighs dramatically, "I could picture myself looking out toward France waiting for my fly boy to come back from a raid on the Germans."

"You're as bad as Bella and her dramas." Mom says and I watch as my sisters give each other a look and quickly cross to my mother. Her shoulders slouch and she breaks down in tears, burying her face in a tea towel. I ache for her, I truly do. They encircle her and hold her from each side.

A gurgle from a baby comes from the monitor on the table and I am distracted by the noise. I really can't watch mom cry about me so I flash myself to the second floor and go to my new nephew.

The baby looks up at me and gives me a toothless wet smile. I caress his face with my ghostly hand and wish that I could feel him. I miss the feel of baby skin and the smell of a baby. Well, smelling a baby might not be a good idea, I think looking down at the chubby little one. He is an appetizer size human; oh those bad thoughts sneak up on you even in this form. I slap myself on the wrist for the bad thought.

"You do look good enough to eat little man, kind of like a juice box," I giggle and coo down at him. "Oh I wish I could pick you up!' It's impossible in this form but maybe one day.

I start to sing for him, I bet none of these fools have introduced him to real music beside that G rated drivel they sing to babies. My nephew is about to get his Buffett on. I start singing,

"Girl of a thousand faces, From a long line of basket cases
Daughter of a fortune teller, Oh the lovely Isabella.

There's an island in the ocean, where the people stay in motion
Somewhere on the old Gulf Stream, Do they live or did I dream

We're just changing channels as we go"

I hum the tune and stare down at my nephew. I will never have the chance to have a child of my own but this little man will be watched and loved from afar.

The sound of multiple feet running up the stairs towards the nursery brings me upright and I look expectantly at the nursery door. My mother and sisters come to a halt staring back at me in the doorway. They have identical looks of shock on their faces. Well to them they are viewing a ghost, so it's understandable.

My sister Caroline recovers first and raising an eyebrow asks, "What are you singing to that baby?" She acts as if I'm still in her world but she knows I'm not.

"Jimmy Buffett. What do you sing to him, Eighty Eight Lines about Forty Four Women?" I ask sarcastically all the while grinning at her.

"Hooker." My sister gives me a shocked and teary grin. Her voice waivers, "I really miss you."

"Hi," I squeak out. The baby coos up at me bringing my attention back toward him. I look up and smile at Elizabeth. "You did well sis, he is so beautiful."

Elizabeth looks like she is in shock as she tells me, "His name is Lane, just like you said. His full name is Lane Foster. I named him after Foster. I thought you would have liked that, and Foster would have got a kick out of it."

My breath catches in a sob. "Thank you," I can't cry, but my voice when I reply holds a sob. "He would have thought that was a hoot."

"He's not with you Bella," Mom asked?

"No, he went into the light." Hell, I know Foster is probably in a fit of giggles somewhere up there looking down on this conversation. Well, that is if he isn't distracted trying to get under Gabriel's toga.

"Bella, I'm so sorry about not listening to your premonitions." My mom says tearfully. "That's in the past mom don't worry over that. I'm happy and I know I'm not here with y'all but I want you to be happy too."

"What on earth are you wearing Bella?" Caroline asks.

"I wearing Carolina Herrera, couture actually. You like?" I twirl.

"They let you dress like that in heaven?" she asks with the bitch brow raised. Oh shit here we go. Sisters!

"Who said anything about heaven? I'm not cutting up a beautiful dress for wings, you hoochie. And do you see the hem line hugging the cheeks of my ass? It's to the freaking floor!"

"It's suctioned your ass sugar; I can see your dimples!"

"One of you is dead and you're still arguing! Girls grow the hell up!"

We all look at my mom in shock. She never talks like that. Nothing ever ruffles her feathers enough for her to lose the southern gentility act and actually curse. But now she stands in her kitchen looking a bit frazzled and I suspect she may drag out the cooking sherry any minute for a sip or three.

"Sorry mom, it's just habit." I feel the image I'm projecting start to waiver, "I really have to go guys, it's kind of hard to stay in this form. Where's dad?"

"He is down at the light house Bella." I blow them a kiss and think of the lighthouse and fade away.

/\\\\\\\\\\\

I think of the light house and when I open my eyes I am looking at it. From behind me I hear the waves crashing on the shore. The natural noise of the sea competes with the inorganic sound of cars rushing by in a constant and unceasing competition. The sound of a motor bike passing takes me back to that night I lay here looking up at the light. My eyes jerk toward the site and I see a guy and girl on the bike. I shiver, a goose walked over my grave. I vaguely remember the pain from my injuries, but it was nothing compared to the pain of my change.

I wonder if the passersby see me. A filmy woman dressed in a long white gown hovering around the lighthouse, I'm haunting the place of my death after all. I'll have to get with Emmett on this one, maybe one day I can find me another white dress that matched the one from that night douse it with deer blood and haunt the light house for the tourist. Emmett can take pictures, it would be a hoot. I'll be a haunting advertisement to keep you're daughters off of motorbikes.

It's kind of foggy tonight though, at least that is different from the last time I was here. I don't see dad on this side so I walk to the west side and there he stands looking down at two small white crosses pressed into the grass by the base of the light house. Bella is written on one and Foster on the other.

"Dad," He turns around and sees my ghostly appearance. His eyes widen for a moment but then he just shakes his head and gives me a smile.

"Bella, you are the only one I know who could have cheated death."

I laugh and nod. "Yeah dad I'm your daughter after all."

"Did Foster?" He leaves the question hanging. I shake my head no.

"Foster wasn't destined to go any farther Dad. I hope he found what he was looking for beyond the veil."

"So what are you doing visiting this neck of the world sweet heart?"

"I just wanted to see you daddy. It was supposed to be a special day for us today."

"Bella, I don't recall any thing we had planned for today."

"Daddy, every little girl wants her dad to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day."

He looks startled for a second and then a fine sheen of tears are in his eyes. "Wedding?" he asks, then clears his throat.

"Yep, life goes on Pop."

"Ghost can do that kind of thing, marriage, I mean?"

"That and a lot more pop." I giggle suggestively.

"Bella!"

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

I flash back to my world at the sound of a quiet knock on my door. It's Carlisle. "We're ready."

The meadow is bathed in a rare patch of sunlight. Out in the middle, in the perfect circle of our clearing, wild flowers bloom in the green spring grass.

Today there is a bower made of vines and wild flowers gracing the clearing. The smell of wisteria perfumes the air. My new family is clustered there awaiting Carlisle and me. The ladies are dressed in various shades of purple. The guys all have suits with purple ties.

Jasper is clutching a bible waiting to preside over our ceremony. Edward stands next to him with Emmett behind him holding a purple scarf over his eyes. He is under orders from Alice to not let it go until I am ready to walk his way. She wants to capture his first look of me on film and per her that is the only way.

"Are you ready?" Carlisle ask looking down at me.

"I don't think I have ever been more ready, get me to my groom."

We take our first steps into the clearing and Emmett drops the scarf from his eyes. Alice was correct, that was a picture worth capturing. Edwards smile, ah, I'm in heaven.

FIN

AN: Sorry for the long delay folks. I'm still in the orchard harvesting pecans. This was finished on a rainy day, one of the few times I have time for myself. As soon as I get finished with the pecans I am going to translate this back to the original Manifesting Loneliness and close that one down, then I shall dedicate all my time to finishing The Dark Dance.

The poem 'Evolution' by Langdon Smith was written in 1895. (I found a copy on line so I'm iffy about the spellings used so please overlook the goofs because I can't find my copy of the poem) I used to beg my mom to read me the 'Tadpole and Fish' poem when I was small. I always wanted to recite it or Cleopatra Dying in Drama class but never got the chance. I was a bit of a drama queen in high school. My daughter now acts out commercials from TV, wonder where she gets it? Maybe one day she will accept an Oscar…

EVOLUTION – LANGDON SMITH

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish
In the Paleozoic time,
And side by side on the ebbing tide
We sprawled through the ooze and slime,
Or skittered with many a caudal flip
Through the depths of the Cambrian fen,
My heart was rife with the joy of life,
For I loved you even then.

The eons came and the eons fled

and the sleep that wrapped us fast
Was riven away in a newer day

and the night of death was past...

Mindless we lived and mindless we loved
And mindless at last we died;
And deep in the rift of the Caradoc drift
We slumbered side by side.
The world turned on in the lathe of time,
The hot lands heaved amain,
Till we caught our breath from the womb of death
And crept into light again.

Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet
Writing a language dumb,
With never a spark in the empty dark
To hint at a life to come.

And, oh! What beautiful years were these?

when our hearts clung each to each;

When life was filled and our senses thrilled

in the first faint dawn of speech.

Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,
And happy we died once more;
Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold
Of a Neocomian shore.
The eons came and the eons fled
And the sleep that wrapped us fast
Was riven away in a newer day
And the night of death was past.

I was hewed like an Auroch bull

l and tusked like the great cave bear;

And you, my sweet, from head to feet

Were gowned in your glorious hair.

Thus life by life and love by love
We passed through the cycles strange,
And breath by breath and death by death
We followed the chain of change.
Till there came a time in the law of life
When o'er the nursing sod,
The shadows broke and soul awoke
In a strange, dim dream of God.

Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn,

Where the mammoth came to drink;

Through brawn and bone I drove the stone

And slew him upon the brink.

I flaked a flint to a cutting edge
And shaped it with brutish craft;
I broke a shank from the woodland lank
And fitted it, head and haft.

Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn,
Where the mammoth came to drink;
Through brawn and bone I drove the stone
And slew him upon the brink.

God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds

And furnished them wings to fly;

We sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,

And I know that it shall not die...

Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes,
Loud answered our kith and kin;
From west and east to the crimson feast
The clan came tramping in.

I carved that fight on a reindeer bone
With rude and hairy hand;
I pictured his fall on the cavern wall
That men might understand.
For we lived by blood and the right of might
Ere human laws were drawn,
And the age of sin did not begin
Till our brutal tusks were gone.

...Though cities have sprung above the graves

Where the crook–bone men made war

And the ox–wain creaks o'er the buried caves

Where the mummied mammoths are.

And that was a million years ago
In a time that no man knows;
Yet here tonight in the mellow light
We sit at Delmonico's.
Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,
Your hair is dark as jet,
Your years are few, your life is new,
Your soul untried, and yet —

Our love is old, our lives are old,
And death shall come again;
Should it come today, what man may say
We shall not live again?

God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds
And furnished them wings to fly;
We sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,
And I know that it shall not die,
Though cities have sprung above the graves
Where the crook–bone men made war
And the ox–wain creaks o'er the buried caves
Where the mummied mammoths are.

For we know the clod, by the grace of God
Will quicken with voice and breath;
And we know that Love, with gentle hand
Will beckon from death to death.

Then as we linger at luncheon here
O'er many a dainty dish,
Let us drink anew to the time when you
Were a tadpole and I was a fish.

I also liked Sally Simpkin's Lament by Thomas Hood. But that is another story. (The recitation of it got me an A on a Drama performance)