a/n Much shorter chapter. It just happened. You'll notice there's lots of sleeping. But still some sexiness. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 9—ROAD TRIP

Mike slept in a haze of dreams. A deep haze, so far below any surface it was like being at the center of the earth.

Colors swirled around him—blues, greens, golds that matched Tanya's eyes and looked beautiful against her bare skin.

So much red. Red paint, red water, red silk sheets wrapped around Tanya's body.

Red blood.

Blood.

Mike felt like he was floating in a sea of red. Resurfacing took time.

Blackout. Nothing. No red, but no beautiful gold, either.

Red again. This time, red light. Like light filtered through autumn trees.

Fade to blue, to a night sky, but a sky of liquid. Dark blue liquid with little dots of silver and white.

Red again. Like the sunrise.

Mike could feel his hands. The surface wasn't so far now. He could almost feel his body again.

He could hear her voice, muffled and stressed. Stressed… why?

"No, I'm taking the long way around… Yes, through Seattle… No, we've already crossed the border."

Border?

Slowly, laboriously, he opened his eyes to an unfamiliar scene.

Rain was drizzling, making the sky dark. For a moment, he wondered if he'd only been asleep for a few minutes—the sky looked more or less the same as it had when he'd come home from work.

Tanya was still talking. She was on the phone with someone.

"I know, and I was very careful not to pass through their territory," she said, rolling her eyes. "Jesus, Edward, give me some credit—I'm not a total moron." There was a pause, then she laughed. "Okay, well, tell Jake to give me some credit. I've been around the block a few times. He's got nothing to worry about, and I didn't even do anything."

Territory? What was she talking about? He sniffed, a morning sound, and shifted a little in his seat. It was like the night before, with the "Italian police." It was like she was speaking in code, saying things that didn't make sense.

"I need to go," she said, glancing over at him and smiling slightly. "He's awake." Another pause from her was followed by a string of words he didn't understand—Russian, he assumed. Then she hung up, putting the phone on a clip on the dash. He thought for a moment it was a GPS, as well, but there was nothing, and the little screen went dark.

"Where are we?" he muttered, sitting up a little straighter.

"Canada," she said. She smiled over at him. "Good morning."

"Is it morning?" Mike blinked. "I'm out of it."

"It's about half of seven," she said.

Mike nodded, trying to keep cool. Awake, he was starting to remember why exactly he'd been asleep for so long in the first place.

So much blood…

"You need to pull over," Mike ground out from between his teeth. "I'm gonna be sick."

The little car screeched to a halt, and Mike half fell, half crawled, from his seat. He knelt on the side of the road in the cold rain, vomiting uncontrollably. After about a minute, he felt a cold hand on his neck. He realized the he'd stopped throwing up, and that the shaking taking over his body was coming from huge, choking sobs that were bubbling up uncontrollably.

"We need to get back in the car," she whispered, and he managed to nod. He tried to stand, and felt his knees give out.

He expected to feel pavement under his hands again.

Instead, he felt Tanya's hands slip under his arms and hoist him easily off the ground again. She half-carried him back to the car and leaned him back inside. His mind registered that she shouldn't have been able to lift him so easily. He wasn't fat, but he was still taller and more muscular than she was. She should have struggled a bit, but when she was back in the car, she wasn't even breathing hard.

His mind flashed back to the night before.

"Just trust me, Mike, when I tell you there are certain things about me I can't explain to you right now. But I promise, when the time is right, I'll explain."

She'd then hidden Jessica's body and cleaned the hall and bedroom in just an hour.

"Everything will be fine," Tanya said softly, not taking her eyes from the road. "The cops won't figure anything out. There's no evidence."

"What if they bring in bloodhounds?" Mike asked, his brain still spinning.

"They won't find anything." She sounded very sure of this. …there are certain things about me I can't explain…

Mike felt his hands start to shake. Who was she? How had she cleaned up so quickly? Was she really a real estate agent? Or did she use the real estate to hide the bodies?

What bodies? Was she some kind of assassin?

The shaking in his hands started to spread up his arms, and he shivered uncontrollably. Was she a serial killer? Was he her next victim?

But she hadn't killed anyone.

He had killed someone. Killed his, soon-to-be, ex-fiancée with his bare hands.

His thoughts reeled out of control, and the shaking spread. He curled up in his seat, shaking from head to toe.

He didn't realize the car had stopped until he heard the passenger door open. He was about to open his eyes to see what was going on, but he was hoisted suddenly out of the car. He felt himself being carried, and he was confused.

He opened his eyes.

Tanya's face was above him, and it felt like he was floating along. He felt her cool arms cradled under him, carrying him. She was carrying him. And she seemed unaffected, like he was weightless.

Her arms shifted again, and he heard the slide and click of a hotel door unlocking. A door opened, and she was across the room faster than should have been possible. It was truly bizarre.

Carefully, as if he would break at any time, she lowered him onto the cheap, bleached sheets—where the comforter had gone was beyond him. He shook on the bed, and she sat beside him, rubbing his back. He heard a ringing of music—her phone—then felt her shift to answer it. "Hello?"

There was a long pause where Tanya didn't speak. After a minute or so, she said softly, "Alright. We'll head out tomorrow. And you'll meet us in Anchorage the day after that?" Another pause, this one brief. "Alright. That's probably wise. I'll see you then. Goodbye, Alice."

Alice? Mike's mind spun back to the night before. She'd been on the phone. I'm busy, Alice. Alice. Alice Cullen. What would Alice Cullen have to say to Tanya that was so important it would make her pause in the middle of a murder scene?

…things about me I can't explain…

Tanya's hands resumed their gentle rubbing. She curled up behind him, rubbing up and down his back. The shaking gradually slowed until it had almost stopped entirely. Only the occasional shudder ripped through him.

"Who was on the phone?" he asked after one particularly rough shake.

"Alice." Tanya's hands didn't stop their movements. "She's going to meet up with us in Anchorage. She's flying in from New Hampshire the day after tomorrow." Her lips brushed against the back of his neck as she got closer to him, and it felt like jolts of electricity. He shuddered again, this time with desire, when her cool tongue darted out to toy with the nape of his neck, just below the line of his shirt. Her hands moved from his back to his front.

"Ah." Made sense, he guessed. His thoughts were still hazy. Suddenly, there was only one thing he wanted.

He was lying in a warm hotel with a beautiful woman lying next to him. No one was following them. No one had stopped them. She'd driven over twelve hours up into Canada and they hadn't been stopped.

They were safe.

He wanted to make sure it was real, so he rolled over, shoving Tanya onto her back. She caught on quickly.

He took her roughly, and she showed her supreme appreciation.

He felt everything—every movement, the feeling of the sheets moving around their entwined legs, each kiss—and heard every sound. She was as real as anything. It wasn't a dream.

Dreams weren't this good.

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Mike had been sleeping for about three hours since he'd collapsed, exhausted from their lovemaking. He was curled up, his panic subsided, just as Alice had said he would be. She'd called to warn her that the panic she had noticed was about to spiral out of control, and to get him to a hotel and into bed as soon as possible.

"I wasn't looking for this," Alice had said, sounding a little embarrassed, "but you're going to have to have sex with him. It's what is going to calm him down best. Seduce him. You're good at that."

So she had. He'd reacted quickly, flipping over to hover over her prone form. She still wore her jumpsuit and heals, and he'd unbuttoned her front and shoved her clothes down around her knees, barely pausing to shove his own pants down just enough to take her.

The second time, their clothes had been off, with the exception of the vintage, strappy purple Manolos she wore. Those, he'd liked, so he'd ordered her to leave them on.

He had fallen asleep immediately after, and she lay next to him, toying with his light hair, until morning came again. She was little incredulous that someone could sleep so much—he'd been awake for two, maybe three hours, and had fallen immediately back asleep.

He was utterly exhausted.

Blue eyes blinked open around seven in the morning. "Don't you ever sleep?" he muttered, wrapping an arm around her waist and moving closer to him.

"You're going to have to tell him. Alice can't see when, or how, but you don't really have a choice."

Edward's words echoed in her head, and she answered Mike's seemingly innocent and light question. "No."

"No, what?"

"No, I don't ever sleep." She stared down at him. "I haven't slept since…" She paused, then smiled slightly. "It's been a long time."

Mike blinked. "I'm still asleep, or you're full of shit."

"You're awake, and I'm serious." She recalled this dazed face, in a different context, from the day before. "Aren't you the littlest bit curious as to how I carried you out of the car and upstairs?"

Mike's eyes focused a little bit. "Yeah," he said slowly. "You didn't even break a sweat. I mean, I'm not fat, but I'm a guy and you're this tall and thin chick. And you moved fast." He blinked again, this time in remembrance. "Really fast."

"Yes," she said softly. "I won't give you details now—you're still a little overwhelmed, I'm sure."

"Yeah," he said. "That's something else—how do you know what you're doing?"

"You know those details I'm giving you later?"

"Yeah."

"I'll tell you then. Or maybe you'll figure it out." She smiled at him. "Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

The rest of the day was a mixed bag. They drove on, and while Mike was certainly in better humor today, he was still melancholy. He explained somewhere in the Yukon that he wasn't depressed that Jessica was gone. Just the opposite—he was upset that he felt relieved. She knew the angst would pass over time, and that time alone would lessen his guilt.

It was also the day Mike noticed that she didn't eat.

Around eight that evening, when they had pulled over in another hotel and were lying in bed, Mike suddenly said, "So, when are you going to explain the fact that I've never seen you eat, and you didn't eat anything today?"

Tanya blinked. He was staring up at the ceiling, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair. It had come out of nowhere.

"I'm just… not hungry today," she said. "It's one of those things I'll explain later."

"You're not anorexic, are you?" Tanya burst out laughing, and he frowned. "I don't think it's funny."

"You couldn't be more wrong, darling," she laughed, and she curled onto her side to bury into the warm nook of his arms.

By her estimates, it would take them another five hours to get to Anchorage, if she would be able to keep speeding. Tomorrow, her family would be here. Tomorrow, things would start to seem very abnormal to him.

"You should get some sleep," she whispered against his flesh. "We've got a long day tomorrow. We're not going to the airport until after nine tomorrow night, and then we've got four hours to get home."

"Jesus." Mike looked back down at her, cocking an eyebrow. "I'd ask if you want to sleep in, but apparently, you don't sleep."

"Nope." Tanya smiled.

"Don't eat or sleep?" He shook his head, and she could feel his heartbeat increase with nerves. His danger instincts were kicking in. "Seriously, are you even human?"

"Details," Tanya said, smiling as she kissed the tip of his nose. "Go to sleep. We'll leave whenever you wake up."

"Yeah, like I'm going to sleep knowing you're awake all night."

"You've always slept while I've been awake."

"But now I know." He switched off the light and rolled onto his side, facing her. "How come you don't sleep?"

"Details."

"Fuck details, I need to know this shit."

He frowned, and she reached up to smooth away the lines. They didn't belong on his baby face. "You wouldn't sleep at all if I told you now," she said, still smiling slightly. "Soon. When you're awake enough to process everything."

He slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning, crying out more than usual in his sleep.

She called Alice around one. She was about to board the plane with Edward and Jasper, and Bella was tagging along.

"For emotional support," Alice had explained.

"I don't need emotional support," Tanya whispered, glancing at her sleeping lover as he rolled over yet again.

"Not for you," Alice said, "for Mike. You're going to tell him soon. I saw us playing football six months from now when there's an epic storm, and Mike's with us."

"Really?" Tanya blinked. "So he'll stay, then?"

"The details of getting to that point are a little fuzzy," Alice said, and Tanya could hear the frown in her voice. "But the end result seems to be concrete. It looks like we're going to be stuck with Mike," she added, her voice raising slightly. In the background, she heard what sounded like Edward groaning, then a smack, and a cry of surprise.

"She just smacked me!" Edward's voice was shocked, and Bella's peals of laughter tinkled merrily in the background.

"How am I going to explain—"

"You don't know, so I don't know." Alice sounded frustrated. "You have too many options you're considering. I wish you'd just make a decision, already. It would make my job easier." Another background sound—a loudspeaker, announcing a Cape Air flight to Boston. "That's us. I have to go. I'll call you when we hit Seattle in a few hours." The line disconnected.

It was a long time before Mike awoke.

a/n This chapter was surprisingly hard to write. Sorry it took so long. It'll probably keep up like this. I have to put a lot of thought to write two paragraphs. But I'm sticking to my plan—we have not yet deviated from the outline! Score is me—1, ADD—0.

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Also, beware—I'm feeling an outtake. A tasty one. Involving the mile high club…