"Let me have a look at that hand."

Trembling from head to toe, Bella held out her injured hand.

Edward slipped his own warm hand softly under it, held hers gently as he turned it this way and that, viewing the cut from all sides.

Finally; "I think it will need stitches, Miss Swan."

She nodded, mute.

"You'll need to come with me." He smiled down at her, still holding her hand in his.

"Uh-huh." She rose slowly, numb with shock and surprise. "So…ah….you're a doctor?"

Edward laughed. "Is it that obvious?" He finally released her hand to her own care, and led her down a hall bright with fluorescent lighting, and into a small treatment room. Bella sat on the bed as he moved around the room, collecting the necessary equipment to stitch up her cut.

"I thought you lived in…"

"I do," he interrupted. Bella scowled. "However, my family moved here when I was 20, and my father is one of the doctors. Occasionally, when I come home, I help out a bit."

"How old are you?" Bella demanded, still unhappy with his rudeness.

"Twenty-nine."

"And how is it I never saw you?"

Edward rubbed something cold over the cut, leant over her and began stitching. Bella turned her face away, trying not to notice the tugging on her skin. His voice, when he answered, held a smile.

"Maybe you weren't looking."

If she could have stamped her foot, she would have, his answers were so irritating.

"My father's been here his whole life, and I lived here a few years myself. I thought I knew everyone."

Edward finished the final stitch and raised his green gaze to Bella's frustrated brown one. "Clearly not. Although I always noticed you, Bella."

Her stomach twisted in sadness and thrill.

"Did you?" she asked, trying to feign a level of disinterest she didn't feel.

His eyes smoldered, burning her, making her blush.

"I did. How could I miss you, every time you were rushed into here with some calamity or other? I was not qualified, so I could only watch, but I saw you. You're as stunning now as you were then."

Bella turned an even deeper shade of red.

Edward straightened up. "We're all done here, Miss Swan. Unless…"

"Unless?" she asked breathlessly.

"Unless I can persuade you to join me for dinner tomorrow night."

Bella closed her eyes, struggling with herself. One part of her was anxious to say yes, to dive into his arms, press kisses against every inch of his face, and beg him to not stray even one millimeter from her sight. The other part argued, warned her that it wasn't really this man she was interested in, that it was another with the same face.

Who's to say that's all?

And if you're wrong? The first part argued. Maybe there is an attraction to this Edward too?

And you throw yourself at this man for…false memories? The second part said.

"Yes," she said stiffly, the internal struggle becoming too much. A third part of her rejoiced, the logical part that told her there was only one way to be certain whether her attraction was memory only.

The smile that passed across his face was nothing if not beatific. "I'll collect you from your house at seven."

"How do you know…?"

"Where Police Chief Swan's house is? Common knowledge for all good Forks residents, Miss Swan." He slipped his arm under hers, holding her gently by the elbow. "I look forward to it, Bella." The tingle along her arm was electric.

* * * * *

"I can finish dinner, Dad. I'm not an invalid." Bella nudged Charlie out of the way. "Besides, your cooking is more likely to kill me than my hand."

Luned giggled at the table. "At least allow me to assist…"

"Nope. You're a guest tonight." Bella threw her a sideways glance. "Besides, these ovens are quite different to what you're used to."

Luned nodded. "I see that you are right in that."

"I guess I'll check out the game then." Charlie sidled from the room and Bella smiled. Things were already going back to the normal way of things; Charlie working, or watching some game or other, or fishing. Her doing her own thing. But both knowing the other was right there.

"Your Edward. It seems he is back."

"It does seem like that, doesn't it?" Bella stirred the meat and sauce.

"Do you love him?"

Bella half turned towards Luned, one eyebrow raised. "I don't know him."

"But of course you do. Do you not think if the face is the same, so is the man, in his heart of hearts?"

"I…"

"If I saw my Jacob in this time…I would not waste another moment. I wasted too many in my past."

Bella turned back to the cooking, frowning and trying not to think too hard about Luned's theory.

She failed.

What if…what if this Edward was the same as her own? He seemed to have the same determined arrogance (annoyingly enough) as her knight…she held her breath, barely daring to hope. One step at a time. She told herself firmly. Don't rush ahead of yourself.

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Charlie eating on the sofa, and the two women picking at their plates in the kitchen; Bella because she was still thinking of Edward and Luned because modern food was still an oddity to her.

* * * * *

Charlie was well gone when Bella rose, and so was Luned.

The two women had slept as they had in Luned's time, top to tail, in Bella's double bed. Last night tears had come for Bella again, soft and quiet, but for Luned there had been none. It had worried Bella at first that her friend had seemingly recovered so quickly, until she found that they had more things in common than just lost love; they both spoke in their sleep.

Luned's dreams were filled with pleas to 'be safe, be happy, wherever you are. I am ever so sorry.'

Bella wished her misery could be so easily diffused, could be eased into a hope for a resting soul the way Luned's seemed to have been. She guessed her heart was too selfish though, too interested in what it was lacking to be so giving.

Bella stretched languidly, her gaze drifting around her spotless room.

Spotless. Completely out of character for her.

She sat up in bed, peering around the room a little more closely.

The pants and shirt she was certain she had left draped over the back of her desk chair were neatly folded and resting on her dresser. Her shoes, which she had kicked haphazardly across her room, were placed tidily side by side at the foot of her bed. Nothing of Luned's could be seen.

Bella huffed, understanding dawning. Luned had fallen into old habits. She'd bet everything she owned that the Welshwoman was in the kitchen, making an attempt on understanding modern cuisine.

A short trip downstairs proved her instincts correct.

Luned was holding a box of cereal in one hand and a saucepan in the other, staring confused at the stovetop.

"Luned, I could have sworn I made you cereal. Didn't you notice; bowl, spoon, milk?"

"Oh."

"What are you doing, anyway? Cleaning, attempting to cook?"
"My job."

"Your…" Bella sighed heavily. "It isn't your job here."

Luned turned a desperate gaze on Bella. "Then what shall I do? Follow wherever you lead? I feel so very lost, my lady, so out of place and time."

"Oh, Luned." Bella watched the maids face fall, along with the box, spilling cereal over the floor. "We'll find something for you."

"I don't belong here," Luned whispered hoarsely. "I have no one. No family, no mistress--for you tell me I am not yours. I am so very confused, and so alone."

Bella stepped forward hurriedly, enclosing the Welshwoman in her arms. "You have friends, Luned. Me, and Alice, Rose too, though she takes some getting used to."

"How can you be my friend," Luned continued miserably, a fall of tears dampening Bella's pajama shirt. "You are far above me in station."

Bella pushed the younger woman away slightly, still gripping her shoulders. "Not here," she said fiercely. "Here we are equals. You are Luned, and I am Bella, and nothing more."

The Welshwoman sniffled. "Truly?"

"Truly." Bella nodded firmly.

"Then I can ask your help to clean up this mess?" Luned indicated the cereal that had ricocheted across the kitchen floor.

Bella snorted. "This time. Next time, you're on your own."

The two women laughed happily as they began scooping the bits of food off the floor and dumping it in the trash.

* * * * *

"My goodness, Bella. You are beautiful." Luned watched Bella in the bathroom mirror, standing behind her shoulder. "Edward will not know what to do with you."

"I don't know what to do with me, so no surprise there!"

Luned stepped forward, fingering Bella's makeup bag. "Some women used…certain things to enhance themselves in my time, but it was frowned upon. Many believed to use it was going against God's will."

"What do you think?" Bella asked, keeping her voice light and airy, as she touched up her mascara.

Luned frowned, poking at a lipstick. "I…I think I would like to try it." She looked up blushing, seeming slightly abashed.

Bella laughed. "A makeover. Wow, what Alice wouldn't give to hear you ask for that. She can't get anyone to sit still for her anymore."

A knock sounded at the front door. Bella's eyes widened, and her cheeks pinkened with nerves. "That will be him," she choked.

Luned grinned. "Be happy, Isabella. Edward would have wanted it." She nodded sagely before her expression grew serious. "And I wish it also. I have sinned grievously. I do not wish you to suffer for it." Her face fell forward, her expression miserable.

Bella's mouth tightened. They hadn't spoken of this yet, and she wasn't sure she was yet ready to.

"Bells!" Charlie called.

"Time for my grand entrance." Bella smiled, choosing to avoid the tension for the moment.

She took a deep breath, attempted to steady her nerves, and stepped slowly down the stairs, desperately hoping that this time she would manage to refrain from making a fool of herself.

Her efforts were in vain, for when she saw the open door, her mouth dropped open in shock.

It most certainly wasn't Edward Cullen waiting for her.