A/N:

Thanks to The Perv Pack, A Different Forest rec's, and those of you who are spreading the word about this little story, we have more people at this little party than before. Thank you all very much for your support. I'm still so humbled.

So, I set up buffet in the living room, the bar is stocked, old faithful r/rs, please introduce yourself to the new folks.

Thanks for the advice, frstmdllast

Thanks to Team SGMR: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

I hope you enjoy…

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Chapter Nine

Closed Doors

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I am airborne, extending my body to reach the ball and, "Ugh!" I miss, falling chest-first on the wooden floor and sliding into the wall. "Fuck."

"Come on, best out five," Jasper says with far too much excitement and oxygen. Isn't he even out of breath? I roll over on my back, still completely wiped out.

"No, no… I'm done. You win… you win, again." I try to take a deep breath, but damn it hurts. I groan.

"Are you sure she didn't break a rib or something? That's some shiner she gave you."

"Nah. It really didn't hurt much last night. And don't exaggerate; you can barely see the bruise. Anyway, you almost always win at squash. How is that possible, anyway? I'm supposed to be the athlete." Jasper throws me my towel and slides down the wall, sitting beside me.

"First, I do hope you don't tell people you played ball in college, because really, that's pathetic, Edward. And second, do you really want to know why I always beat you at squash?"

"Almost always," I correct him.

"Because you're chasing the ball. If you watched me instead of the ball, you'd know what to expect. You're all heart, and no strategy." I look at him, upside down, my t-shirt is stuck to me with sweat, and he is merely perspiring.

"Come on," Jasper stands, offers his hand, and helps pull me up, "I won, you're buying lunch. I know the perfect place."

~0~

"Will this be one check or two?" The raven-haired server flashes her bright blue eyes between Jasper and me and I understand why we're here.

"This is on me. Thank you." I get a quick smile as I give her my menu, but when she turns to Jasper, her smile fades and her eyes settle on his. He pulls his menu away for just a moment, leaving her hand suspended, and her face amused.

"Thank you, ma'am." His drawl is thick in the presence of women. With just three words and one lingering look, she turns into a puddle.

"I, um, thank you. Your beers… will be right up… thank you." She giggles and nearly trips over her feet as she walks away. I'm somewhere between gagging and begging Jasper to teach me his accent.

"I thought you were done sowing your wild oats."

"I'm just flirting, keeping the tools sharp." I have no tools.

"Alice won't fall for any of that shit. Consider yourself warned."

"We'll see about that. When do I get to meet this Alice, anyway?"

"She won't meet you until she's out of the hospital… a few days. How did she put it? 'I need to be properly dressed to receive a gentleman caller." Jasper chuckles—he knows I found his match.

"I like her."

"I told you. She's going to whip you right into shape."

"No one whips me into shape, Edward." His voice is defensive. I think Maria left scars that even Jasper doesn't see.

"So, I'm thinking that we'll get together for coffee, you'll meet, and if you hit it off—which I'm sure you will—we move onto The Plan."

"Someone sounds excited. Go ahead, I know you're dying to tell me about, The Plan."

"Well, I've been thinking that they've had a really shitty couple of weeks, right? So, maybe next weekend we can do the whole night on the town thing. You know, I'll send them to a spa in the morning for them to do… whatever women do at spas. And then we'll pick them up… dinner, dancing… we'll get a limo…"

"Stop."

The server returns with our beers, this time completely ignoring me and focusing on Jasper, when she's gone, he continues.

"Edward, you graduated Magna Cum Laude…"

"Summa. Summa Cum Laude."

"Even better. You graduated Summa Cum Laude, by far the brightest student in our program, and you are one the most perceptive, observant people I've ever known…" he pauses, and my embarrassment grows, I know I've said something stupid, but I don't know what.

"But…?" I take a drink as he searches for the words.

"But, when it comes to Bella… when it comes to women…" he's avoiding his sharp wit, which I appreciate, but I wish he would spit it out.

"I know. I'm an idiot. Tell me what I said wrong."

"Edward, you didn't say anything wrong, it's a very thoughtful idea. However," a nicer word than but, "I don't think either of those women will want to be in a limo again any time soon, if ever. And, doesn't Alice have a broken pelvis? Do you think it's the best time to go dancing? Won't she be coming home in a wheelchair or something?" Alice in a wheelchair?

I shrug, deflated. I wanted to do something nice for them, something special. I wonder how many other stupid things I've said and done without Jasper here to point out my missteps.

The wet label of my beer bottle becomes my focus, ripping away at the bits of foil as I consider opening one of my closed doors and letting Jasper in. Open.

"I'm leaving seminary and getting my PhD in Clinical Psych."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm leaving seminary."

"Since when?"

"Since right now."

"Ah… you know I think you should get your PhD, but do you mind telling me why? Why this decision, at this moment?"

"I'm sure Bella would rather be married to a therapist than a minister."

"I don't even know how to begin dissecting your statement."

"Forget it. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, I'm glad you brought it up. We need to talk about this, Edward. You are thinking about making a life altering decision based on a woman you met a week ago?"

"That's not the only reason."

"Did she tell you she didn't want to be with a minister?"

"No. Bella would never do that. She's… accepting. I'm sure I could do whatever I wanted and she'd never complain." Why the fuck did I bring this up? "Please, let's drop this, Jasper. I'm just in a weird mood."

"I know you're in a weird mood. You've been in a weird mood since you met her."

He's right. I have no response. I don't know what's happening to me.

"God, I'm hungry. Tell me we're not just here for the server. You said the food is really good here, right?"

"Yes, the food is excellent. I know the chef… You should bring Bella here sometime." Jasper's tone is even, measured. I'm his client. Must. Change. Subject.

"Is the chef a client?"

"No, just a friend."

I run my fingers through my hair, an act so much more gratifying when it was longer. I can't take the silence. "Please stop looking at me like that, Jasper."

"Edward," he pauses again, monitoring each word. Does he do this in session? He should really work on this.

"Spit it the fuck out, Jasper."

"Love is a drug—a chemically producing drug and you are high as a kite right now, my friend."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no, it's good… I just want you to protect yourself."

I scoff. Protect myself? From Bella?

"Well, don't worry about me. Who said I was in love, anyway?"

"Oh, wonderful. So we're being honest with ourselves these days?"

I play with my near-empty beer bottle and look around for our server. I'm pissed off and don't want to play this game anymore. This is what I get for opening closed doors.

"I'm being a bastard, I'm sorry, Edward. You might not believe this from the way I've been acting, but I am very glad you found someone." I can see he is trying to be sincere. "You have a huge heart, it belongs in good hands."

"Thanks."

Our server brings our food, as well as her phone number for Jasper, and my angry monster is quieted. After the world's best BLT, and some of Jasper's arugula and prosciutto pizza—God, I love pork—I crack the door open again.

"You know, Jasper, I think if you met her… when you meet her, you'll like her. She's different. It's like she was made for me."

"I'm sure I will… so, what's the plan?"

"What do you mean? I thought we already killed the plan."

"I'm sure you have more than one plan. What's next?"

"Sort of a first date. I'm taking her out to dinner tonight."

"Good. Perfect. Yes… take it light, get to know her."

"Yeah, that's what I want to do…"

"And be yourself. You are funny and smart, a good guy."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Fucker. One more bit of advice… are you prepared to get defensive?"

"Yep."

"How about you let her get to know you?"

I nod.

"You know what I am saying, Edward." he narrows his eyes at me until I concede.

"I do."

"Good. That will be $325.00; I'll have a bill sent out this afternoon."

$325.00? Shit, I should be a therapist.

~0~

I walk—no wait, I'm strutting—I strut into Kell's at 6:30 and immediately see a familiar face.

"Holy shit, Edward Masen. I haven't seen you here in ages," Riley greets me with a strong handshake, and his obvious Irish eyes.

"Riley, I knew I'd find you here. How's it going?"

"Great… going to school, working, the usual."

Before I order, he's already pouring me a Black and Tan. "What year are you in now?"

"I am a senior—graduating this year."

"Get the hell out of here."

"I know, can you believe it?"

"Man, Riley, I could swear it was yesterday and you were this little teenager clearing tables. Jeez, I'm getting old."

"Aren't we all?"

"Please, you're in your prime." Even as a kid, this golden boy caught everyone's eye.

He leans in and looks around the bar before saying, "I do okay." Man-whore. I bet you're having fun.

"So, you still going to own this place someday?"

"Yep, that's still the plan… got to keep it in the family."

"Nice."

I settle in my regular barstool at the far end of the bar and watch him work. We can have a full conversation, while he fills drink orders, washes glasses, and keeps the bar spotless. This restaurant is in his blood; he already owns it.

"So what brings an old-timer like you to our fine establishment tonight?"

"I'm here to meet a woman."

"What?" He quickly dries off his hands and walks over to shake my hand, "Congratulations, that's great, man." Congratulations? What's with the welcome to the club mentality? I wonder if it's always been like this. Virgins don't walk around shaking hands because of our club. Well… at least no one ever shook my hand.

"So you're looking to meet a woman?" He's grinning ear to ear, shaking his head like he still can't believe my intent.

"Yes, a woman," I grab a handful of peanuts, "I'm NOT GAY, Riley," and toss them in my mouth.

"Hey, you're a good looking guy… you can't blame people for wondering, right?" God, when will people stop thinking I'm gay? Do I need to have sex with Bella on this bar and have everyone watch? Oh boy. Oh wow… sorry, God, you shouldn't have seen that.

"Do me a favor, help put the rumors to rest."

He leans in again, pretending to wipe down the already clean bar, "If you want to meet a woman, look at what just walked in."

Before I can clarify his misunderstanding, my eyes dart past him to the woman across from me at the far end of the bar… and then move no further. I'm… transfixed. I've never seen anything like her before: hair, wild, red—a mane of flames; glowing, alabaster skin; eyes, burning into mine. I cannot look away, hypnotized. Her tongue slips out and, with aching slowness, it glides first over her top then bottom full, wet lip.

She is Fire. She is Sin. She is Lucifer.

Unbidden… images of her… and me… things I would never do to…

"Yeah, she's something isn't she?" Riley's words break the trance. I close my eyes, to cut the connection and I hear her nefarious laugh at my expense. "And she's a real wild cat, if you know what I mean," he raises and eyebrow and gives a wicked grin.

I immediately want to lecture him about true love, and safe sex, and waiting… but instead I just say, "Be careful with that, Riley."

"I will," he rolls his eyes. "You want to meet her?"

"God no. I'm actually here to meet someone in particular, a date."

"Yeah… she's not the dating type."

"Got it, 'nough said."

"So, Edward Masen, you got yourself a girlfriend," he says this proudly, like he's the mentor. How did we switch roles like this?

"Sort of. I've known her for a little while, but I guess this is our first date."

"Well, good luck to you, Edward. You look good tonight, you're going to do well." And instantly, I'm no longer insulted that he's the mentor. I need his help.

"I do? Is this shirt okay?"

"Yes, I like it. The black is good. It's new, right? It's not faded. I hate when my black stuff gets faded."

"Yeah, it's new. But not too dressy, right?"

"No, no. It's good. Step away from the bar for a minute." I do so that he can inspect me, now totally willing to be under his wing.

"Good jeans. Relaxed, comfortable. Button fly?"

"Yes."

"Good, women love that," he smirks.

"Alright, enough with the women stuff Riley, you are too young to," I pull back my crescendo and lean in speaking through gritted teeth, "you are too young to be having sex."

"Edward, I'm 22."

"Exactly!" Out of nowhere, I make this eureka hand in the air gesture. I don't think I've ever made that gesture before.

Riley smiles and shakes his head. Maybe he thinks this is ridiculous, but I'm on a roll, "Are you in love, Riley?"

He throws his head back and sighs, I'm sure he's heard this lecture many times from his uncles, "well… don't have anymore sex until you're in love."

He turns the tables on me, "Are you in love? Are you having sex?"

"I'll tell you later… when you're all grown up."

"Cop out," he mutters under his breath.

"Yes and yes." His face falls and he looks at me like maybe, just maybe, I've planted a seed. God, this is a good kid, help him find love. And keep that Lucifer away from him… and from me… please, please, she scares the shit out of me… keep her away.

Riley pours two shot glass of Jameson Irish Whiskey and hands one to me, "I'm happy for you, Edward." I stop myself before giving him the condescending, 'it will happen for you, too' speech. I've heard it too many times in my life to subject others to the same.

"Thank you." I raise my glass, "Sláinte."

"Sláinte."

We drink. It burns. I might be getting drunk.

"Is Patrick in the kitchen tonight?"

"Yep, he's back there."

"Do you think he'd mind…"

"No, go on back, he'd love to see you."

~0~

Nursing another beer, I sit at the dimly lit table in the corner of the far end of the bar. A familiar, but frustrating pattern emerges: the door opens, heads turn, and my breath catches, hoping… but it's not her.

I've prepared, I've prayed, there's little more I can do, but wait. I look at my watch, 7:01, the door opens again, heads turn, and stayed turned. It's Bella. I stand to meet her, but the voyeur in me enjoys hiding in the shadows, I sit back down and watch.

Although she's searching for me, her stride is confident. Wearing a long, light blue sweater, jeans, and sexy high-heel boots, she looks… a little taller somehow, and it's not because of the boots.

Bella comes right for me, but doesn't see me. Instead, she resides at the end of the bar, waiting for Riley's attention. Ignoring all other customers, he comes right to her and takes her order, giving her his flirtatious smile. Yes, Riley, this is the kind of girl you want, but this one is mine.

I come up behind her and clear my throat.

"Oh. Edward… you startled me. I looked for you, but didn't see you."

"I'm sorry, have we met?" She frowns then looks around like she's just entered The Twilight Zone.

"Edward? What are you…?"

Riley returns, "One club soda, lime twist," and sees me standing there. "Oh, hey, you must be Edward's friend. I'm Riley." They shake hands; Bella is still puzzled.

"Bella Swan, um… nice to meet you Riley." Her eyes shift between us.

"If you need anything, just let me know. Edward is like family here."

"Thanks, Riley," I say. He winks at me and returns to the quickly filling bar.

As Bella sips through her straw, she examines me. No longer put off by my odd greeting, she now knows it's a riddle for her to figure out. It doesn't take long.

"Oh. Ohhh. Yes. I don't remember where we met… maybe I was mistaken. Maybe you just look like an Edward."

"And what does an Edward look like?"

"Well, it's an old fashioned name…"

"And I'm an old fashioned guy."

"I guess I just sensed that." A smile slowly creeps across her face as she grasps the game we're playing tonight.

"So, Miss Swan is it?"

"Ms. It's Ms. Swan."

"I beg your pardon."

"No need to beg, Edward, you have my pardon." Holy Shit! I am totally channeling Jasper and it's working… she is sexy as fuck and I'm not doing too bad, either.

"Ms. Swan, I am in quite a predicament this evening."

"Do tell."

"I was supposed to meet a friend here, but I think I've been stood up."

"Funny, I'm finding myself in a similar situation…"

"Really?" I nearly break into laughter at my bad acting on that line.

"Why yes," she stifles her laugh as well, but quickly composes herself, "my friend has left me waiting here all alone," she pouts. I twitch.

"Doesn't sound like a very good friend."

"No. Not good at all."

"And were you and this friend planning on dinner?"

"I think that might have been in the plans."

"Are you hungry?" I try to hide the real hope behind the question.

"Um… I could eat," she responds as Bella, not as Ms. Swan.

"Well, may I be so bold as to ask you to join me?"

"You may, Mr…?"

"Masen."

"You may, Mr. Masen"

"Wonderful. Would you like to stay here, or there are several places clo-"

"I'd like to stay here. After all… you are family."

"Yes. I guess I am." I signal Riley and he comes right away. I'm family? I like that idea.

As he tops off Bella's club soda he asks if I'm ready for another beer.

"No. I think I'll have an old fashioned," Bella raises a flirtatious brow, "and we're going to stay for dinner."

"Great. I'll let Patrick know and send Molly over." Riley hands me my drink.

"Ms. Swan, would you like to accompany me to my table?" I offer my arm, escort her, and pull out her chair the way my father did for my mother. I take a seat across from her.

"Since we're having dinner together, it might be appropriate to allow the familiarity of first names," she says.

"Bella is it?"

"For most, yes. But, on occasion, someone pronounces my full name in such a way, that it leaves me longing to hear it again."

"And that name would be…"

"Isabella."

I mouth her name slowly, emphasizing each movement of my lips and tongue. Her hooded eyes fix on my mouth, and then I breathe it aloud, "Isabella."

"Mmmm." She leans in, as if for a kiss, but I pull back, fractionally.

"Ah-uh. Not on a first date," I whisper. She lets out a tiny, frustrated sound, and I raise my hands in a way to say, 'I'm just following the rules.' Narrowing her eyes, she shakes her head and silently communicates retribution for my denial. In that moment, I decide to write GQ, thanking them on their article about how to build anticipation for a night of great sex.

Our server, Molly, who has probably been here since before I was born, stops by and tells us that dinner will be up shortly.

"Don't they have menus here?" Oops. She's perturbed.

"Um… yeah… but I sort of took the liberty of ordering for us."

"That's… that's nice of you Edward, but…" she's anguished, something is wrong, "… I just can't eat a lot of things right now."

"I know, I know Bella… I ordered some little plates. A lot of different things on the menu… just different things to try." With her hands flat on the table, eyes closed, she tries to gather herself. Is she that pissed?

"It's very nice. Thank you. I'm sorry I sort of snapped." She takes another deep breath, and plants a counterfeit smile across her face, "So… Edward Masen, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

"Bella, what happened? Tell me, did something happen today?" She opens her mouth as if to speak, then takes another drink of soda. "Tell me."

"Are you sure? We can talk?" She's been holding back because of my little game. The truth is we can only pretend for so long that her life isn't spinning out of control.

"Of course." I move my chair to be next to her, this first-date distance seems so wrong for who we are, what we do. "Is it Alice? Did something happen?"

"Alice is alright… um… she will be alright… but it was a mad house at the hospital today, Edward." I rub her neck and feel the tension, the labor, of concealing information. The words rush out of her and her muscles relax. "Her parents called in a specialist, a hot-shot orthopedic surgeon…"

"I thought her parents were leaving today."

"Not anymore. And this doctor—although he won't come right out and say it—clearly doesn't like the procedure the other doctor used. The external fixation… you know the bolts and brace thing. The new doctor is suggesting another surgery… a different procedure."

"Oh, shit."

"Mrs. Brandon doesn't want her to have more surgery, but Mr. Brandon did some research about the external brace… and sepsis… and… fatality rates… and he's ranting, and they're arguing… and all of this is happening front of Alice." Bella runs her fingers through her hair and groans.

"How is Alice? How is she holding up?"

"Alice is… Alice is blue."

"Blue?"

"Yes, and that is saying a lot for Alice. That means she's really in bad shape."

I stand and take Bella's hand, "Come on, let's go."

"What?"

"Let's go to the hospital."

"You would do that?"

"Of course."

Bella hesitates, then tugs on my hand, bringing me back to my chair. "It wouldn't do any good... I just came from there. Visiting hours are almost over and anyway… she's already knocked out on morphine." The helium-filled Bella who walked into this bar is now deflated.

"She's back on morphine?"

Bella nods and I pull her into me, her head falling onto my shoulder. We sit like this for several minutes; Bella slides her arms around my waist as I rub her upper arm. I don't know how Alice's condition could have changed so quickly. Two days ago we were planning her homecoming… was she hiding it from me? I take Bella's hand from my waist and kiss her bruised knuckles.

"Edward, can I ask you a favor?"

"Mmm-hmm." She peeks up at me, and since she requests nothing of me, I brace myself.

"I needed time alone with Alice today… so I appreciate… I understand why you didn't come to the hospital. But, I think she misses you. Please don't stay away from Alice because of me."

"I won't." Bella either doesn't know of Alice's unreturned texts or she's letting me off easy. "Should we go in the morning?"

Bella nestles her head back on my shoulder, "Yes."

I kiss her hair. "You smell good."

"Thanks. So do you," she sighs.

"Do you want to go home?" Our flirtatious game seems silly now.

"No… I don't." After a moment, Bella sits up and takes a sip of my old fashion—a wince, a cough, and a little smile. "I was having fun. I liked forgetting about… well, forgetting about my life." Her I'm-so-fucked-I-don't-care anymore humor is slowly returning. "More importantly," she takes my hand in hers, "I want to know you Mr. Edward Masen. I really want to know you. So, if you'll have me, I'd like to continue on our date."

"Ms. Swan, I'd very much like to have you… in every way you can imagine."

"Ah-uh. Not on a first date." Thinking she's joking, I lean in for a kiss, but she pulls away and gives the same, 'I didn't make the rules' gesture.

Molly returns, "How are your drinks doing?"

"I'm fine," I look to Bella, "How are you?"

"I'd like a glass of white wine, please." Do not look worried, Edward. Do not look worried. Bella looks back at me and I give her a bright smile, "Please don't worry, Edward," which is quite unconvincing.

"I'm not." I aim for expressionless.

Molly leaves as Bella stands, "I'm going to freshen up, and when I return…"

"The date's back on." A smile and she's gone. Jesus. Can we, can she, have one carefree day, or at least one night? Is it too much to ask? Sorry… I don't mean to sound so frustrated. Thank you for giving me Bella. Amen.

The food arrives while Bella is away. Fuck… it's a lot of food. Please don't freak out Bella. Molly and I pull over another small table for our food. Now it's more like a personal buffet. Better.

"Oh my. A few things from the menu?" Fortunately, she's in good humor.

"Can I make you a plate?"

"Sure."

"Omelet?"

"They have omelets on the dinner menu?" I begin to make our plates, and she lets me.

"They do tonight. Crab cake?"

"Yes, please. And can I have a little bit of that salad?"

"Coming right up."

We settle in and start to eat.

"So, Mr. Masen, can I ask what you do for a living?"

"I'm a graduate student."

"Really, what are you studying?"

"Theology." Yes, Bella, that is my first date answer. Not that I've had many first dates.

"Theology… very interesting. And with that, you hope to…?"

"Oh, the possibilities are limitless. And you, Is-a-bell-a?"

"Me what?"

"Are you in school?"

"I was, but I graduated." My father's voice is in my head, 'Edward, never ask a women her age.'

"And when did you graduate?"

"Last spring." I cough on my drink. She can't be that young? Can she? What the fuck?

She laughs, "But… um… I'm a little older than your average graduate. I'm twenty-four." Thank God.

"I took some time off and went part-time some semesters."

"Really?"

"Yes. I guess I'm a 'pay as you go' kind of gal. So, I cobbled together some scholarships, worked a whole lot, took out a few small loans… but, in the end, it wasn't always enough… so, on occasion, instead of school, I worked," she shrugs. Why didn't I meet you ten years ago? No… maybe this is better.

"U-Dub?"

"No, Seattle University." Catholic.

"Really? Don't get me wrong it's a great school… "

"I know, expensive. Lots of scholarships for incoming students, but they wane as you go. I didn't realize that at the time. But, I fell in love with the place, so I stayed. And are you a U-Dub grad, Edward?"

"I am. I'm a proud Husky."

"When did you graduate?"

"A few years ago." I smile, knowing her real question.

"A few years ago?" I nod, forcing her to ask. "Edward, for goodness sake, how old are you?"

"I'm seventeen, Bella."

"Seventeen? Oh, you're funny. Come on, Mr. Masen, tell me. "

"I turned twenty-six a couple of months ago." That sounds a little younger than, twenty-six. I wait for a look of approval but instead get one of confusion. "Is that too old?" Great. Like I can change it now.

"No. Of course not, I'm just wondering how you spent your time between graduation and sem-… theology graduate school."

"I worked, too."

"Worked…?" You want more?

"In industry."

"What kind of industry?" More, still? A long drink of cold bourbon does nothing to put out the fire in my chest. She's still waiting, patiently.

"My parents used to own a small investment firm in Chicago, they moved it here to Seattle. That's how I met Esme and Carlisle. Esme handles the real estate investments… they're friends of the family. After graduation, I worked for the company."

"That's funny. It doesn't sound like you at all."

"Well, maybe that's why I'm not in it anymore."

"But you were a Psych major?"

"And an Econ minor."

"Huh."

"And a second minor in Gender Studies."

"You were?" Oh, I hate to break her heart, but…

"No, not really. I just thought you'd like to hear that."

"Shame on you. You are one good liar, Edward Masen."

"Enough about me. What did you major in?"

"Pre-law."

"Very interesting. So, I'm assuming law school is in the future."

"That was the plan… I thought maybe in two or three years, after… well, things change. Anyway, the program mixed courses in Political Science and Criminal Justice and I started to think maybe I'd take the Criminal Justice route for graduate school." Why Criminal Justice? Why not patent law? Why not hiding behind a desk, and working on contracts… or taking care of people, you're good at that… a nurse, or a teacher? You would make a good teacher, Ms. Swan.

"Um… why are you… why would you…?"

"I don't know. I like investigation, criminal investigation… unraveling mysteries, searching for truth. My Dad was over the moon with the idea, but then he got all freaked out… he's a police chief."

"He got all freaked out because he was worried about you, right? He doesn't want you spending your days pissing off criminals, right? I can't say that I blame him." I try to control my voice, but instead it comes off angry and judgmental.

"Edward, calm down. It's not like the movies or television… it's not that dangerous."

"Oh, and Charlie doesn't know how dangerous it is?"

"You know… you should really try this crab cake." She brings her crab filled fork to my mouth and I sigh before giving into her topic change. I let her feed me and she bats her lashes, exaggeratedly, teasing me with her win. "Good, right?"

"Good." I've tried to hide that I've calculated each bite, observing how little she's eaten. "How is everything?"

"Delicious, thank you. I'm getting full."

"Here, I'd like you to try some of this steak." I bring a fork to her mouth, and she eyes it, warily, before opening. Wet lips sliding over my fork, "Good, right?" Part of my brain is focused on the way her jaw moves when she eats, how licks her wet lips, the gentle bob of her throat as she swallows. The other part is focused on protein, iron, and vitamin K.

"Mmm… really good. It just tastes like steak. Not too salty."

"I asked them to pull back on the seasoning."

"You did?" I nod and push down the corners of my mouth. Bella kisses my palm and whispers, "Thank you."

"Another bite."

"No… I'm full."

Should I drop it? No. There is no way she ate at the hospital. I lean in and whisper, "One more… please, Bella." Surrender. A tentative nod, and another bite. "Thank you."

Molly is back at our table, "Edward, Bella, how is everything? More drinks?"

"Everything is wonderful, Molly, thank Patrick for us. I'm okay on a drink. Bella?"

"I'm still working on my wine, but I'd love a cup of coffee."

"Regular, de-cafe, or Irish?"

"Regular for me, I could use a little pick me up."

"Edward? Irish?"

"Um… sure. Thanks, Molly."

"You're not going to get drunk on me, are you?"

"Not planning on it." My buzz is wearing off and I need little more liquid courage.

"Did you catch that she called me Bella?"

"Yes. You're family now, too." We're family.

"Do you come here often?

"Oh, Ms. Swan. Your pick up lines are a little trite." Giggles, we're back to giggles. "Ah… I used to come here with Jasper a lot—in college—and when I worked. I haven't been here much lately."

"Is this Jasper a fine upstanding citizen? The kind one might allow to meet a best friend?"

"Yes. He's smart, has a wicked sense of humor, and would come to the Four Seasons at the crack of dawn to bring a friend a decent set of clothes."

"Ohhh, so this is the mystery man. Okay, he passes my initial test."

Molly returns with our coffee. "Thanks Molly, I think we're ready for our check," I look at Bella, and she nods her approval.

"Not tonight, Edward. This is one's the house."

"No, Molly, please…" Fuck. I hate when people pick up the check.

"No arguing, Edward. We're glad to see you. And we're especially glad to meet you, Bella." Molly's smile is motherly.

Bella grabs my hand and gives a good squeeze, "He's a good boy, isn't he Molly?"

"Yes he is, Bella, a very good boy." God, this is so embarrassing.

"Thank you, Molly, and thank," I wave my hand around knowing that this is probably the doing of many people, "everyone."

Once alone, Bella turns to me, "You are a good boy, Edward. A good man."

"Stop. You don't even know me… it's only our first date." She rolls her eyes.

"Mr. Masen, I've enjoyed meeting this family. Will I get to meet the other one?"

"Yes." But not for a very long time. "That reminds me, Esme and Carlisle want you to come over for dinner on Sunday. Carlisle really feels bad that he had the conference and missed the funeral."

"Oh, he shouldn't feel bad. But, yes, that would be lovely. Are your parents going to be there?"

"No. They're not." I don't want to be short with her, but my contrived story about them no longer makes sense to me. 'I don't talk to them anymore.' But I do. 'They aren't in Seattle.' But they are; they are everywhere. Everything is tangled in my mind; I swallow and try again. "They've been traveling… for a while."

"That's nice. How do they do that, with the company and all?"

"Huh?"

"I've always wondered how people manage to travel while they work. Are they able to enjoy themselves, or are they always emailing and on their cell phones?

"Ah… they gave up full control of the company a while ago." My voice sounds as tight as my chest feels. I need to navigate away from this, quickly. I hear the band start sound checks in the other room, and I think it's our cue to leave. "Enough information for one night?"

"Information? I thought we were talking." As easy as it is to inflate her, it is easier to deflate her.

I try lighten my voice and pretend I don't see her hurt, "Oh, yeah. That's what I mean… talking, information… same thing, right? What I meant to ask is if you want to go home."

"Oh. Right… sure, let's go." Bella seems willing to play along, pretending we didn't have a tense moment where my insecurities played the role of critic.

"Shall we?"

We stand to leave and, before I can take her hand, Bella sways and leans into the wall for support. "Hey… sit back down." I guide her back to the chair, kneel in front of her and inspect her face—looking for only God knows what.

"A little light headed, I'm fine." She giggles her nervous, 'I'm fine' laugh that is a world apart from the real sound. "I guess I shouldn't have had that wine after all."

"Bella, you didn't even have half a glass."

"I guess I'm a lightweight these days."

"Do you feel sick?" Was it the food? Not enough food?

"Nope… no, not at all." This time last night, she exorcised demons in the woods, a day at the hospital, and now, bizarro date. I'd be light headed, too.

She presses her forehead onto mine, and places her hands on my face, rubbing her thumbs through my sideburns, "I'm more than fine, I'm great." Her words and movements are sentimental, characteristically tipsy; maybe a half of glass is her limit right now. "Tell me I'm great, Edward."

"You're great, Bella." So much more than great.

"And we're great? Tell me we're great."

"We're great, baby… and I'm going to take you home now, okay?"

"Ah-uh… not on a first date, Mr. Masen… besides, my evenings are occupied." She pulls away and gives me a seductive grin.

"Oh, I like that look." Quick decision to be made: a shot of Jameson on the way out to catch up with her, or keep this warm buzz level so I can take care of her? Damn it. The Keith Richard in me loses, the seminarian wins. "Up you go."

We walk out arm and arm, Bella leaning on me slightly, and me—chest-out, proud to be leaving this bar for the first time with a woman wrapped around me. As we exit, I hear the sadistic cackle of Lucifer from somewhere deep within the bar. 'The devil prowls about, lion-like, looking for someone to devour.'

The crisp night air helps clear my fuzzy head. "What will it be Isabella, your place or mine?"

"Mr. Masen, your pick up lines are trite." She giggles a new, slightly drunk sound. "Wait. Are you serious? Can we go to your place?"

"Yes… if you want. We could walk, but I think a cab ride would be in order."

"Yes. Yes, please, let me see your home." I'm surprised by her exuberance.

"Sure… um… yes, I want to show you my place."

"You do? Because I really want to know you, Edward." The same words that started the night here, end them. Have I not divulged enough?

I could ride in the cab all night, but it's only a few blocks. Her legs, across my legs, my hand on her thigh, her face pressed against my chest. I'm disappointed when we arrive.

"You live here? The Vine?"

"Uh-huh." My stomach drops at her shock, but this is something I have to do. Though I thought I shared much of myself tonight, I realize I need to give her more.

We walk into the lobby I no longer notice, but through her eyes it's 'beautiful,' and 'sophisticated, yet inviting.'

After making my way through several locks, I hear the last 'click,' and I open the door. "Welcome to my place, Bella." If it wasn't for my nerves, I would carry her over the threshold. Hesitating before she walks through, she turns to me, and like she's receiving a great gift, softly says, "Thank you."

She takes in the space from the entryway, but before we go any further, there is business to attend to. "Bella, I want show you something. I like to be sure the door is locked while we're in here." I click each lock.

"Edward, you have like four bolts on this door. I don't think you have to worry about the area. Don't you trust your neighbors?"

"No. I don't… I mean, I do… but, here, I made this key for you." I place it in her palm and close her fingers around it. "It will open all of the locks from the outside. Other than the front door, there are only two internal locks, one on each bathroom. You have a master key, it will open everything."

"You made me a key?" This isn't like giving her a drawer, this is important.

"Yes. Please put it on your keychain."

"Oh, okay. You have a thing about locks." She isn't asking. I see now that my intensity is scaring her.

"I just want to keep you safe. You can never be too safe, right?"

"Right… I guess." Another tactic.

"Apartment and condo theft… the amount of stolen property per year is pretty staggering."

"Yeah, that's true. I guess I don't think about it much, I don't have a lot worth stealing." She says, distracted.

"The grand tour?"

"Please." And she's back with me again.

"Okay, to the right, the kitchen. A little small, but functional."

"You call this small. Wow… these appliances… do you cook?"

"I try."

"I'd love to cook with these."

"Please, any time. And in the fridge, a month's supply of Pedialyte." I take out strawberry variety, and fill two wine glasses pretending it's rosé.

"What, do own stock in the company?"

"I wish. Abbot's been showing excellent profits for years. The big money was to be made if we got in a few years ago." Oh, you were joking weren't you? People say that casually, don't they? I hand her a glass and we continue the tour. "And across the hall, a bathroom."

"Nice. Tasteful. Crazy-clean."

"Yeah, that's not me. I have someone who comes in and cleans. And right here, there's a…"

"Oh, wait… can I?" She looks down the hall and into the living area.

"Yeah, sure."

"Edward, this is the nicest condo I've ever seen… and I've seen a lot of condos in the past few months… but not in this price range," she swallows her last words. I always thought this place was modest. It's no Escala, but I know it's more than what people expect from a grad student. "This view of the waterfront. This isn't even a window… it's a wall of glass. Balcony?" She doesn't seem to be even talking to me, but I respond.

"Yes."

"Fireplace… I love fireplaces."

"Me too. It's just a gas fireplace, but it's okay."

"Just gas," she whispers and shakes her head. "Built-ins… built in bookshelves. So many books."

"Bella, is something wrong?"

"No, no… it's fantastic. You must have been quite good at your job."

"I did okay." Bella, what's going on? Tell me.

"You should be proud of yourself." Proud? "I guess this explains the Gucci suit."

Bella is quiet for several moments as she stares out the window. I take her glass, and place both on the end table. Wrapping my arms around her I try, in vain, to read her mind. The reflection staring back at us in the glass, takes my breath away. "So, are you going to tell me what you are thinking or am I going to have to pry it out of you?"

"Pry it out of me? That sounds fun. The place is stunning, thank you for showing it to me."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what else are you thinking?"

"I'm just being silly."

"Please tell me." She shrugs, "I just can't get over how this poor girl from Forks continues to draw in, surround herself, with rich people." Rich people. It hangs in the air. I want to tell her that I'm not rich, but…

"You're not poor, Bella."

"Well, I know, but comparatively… if this is what you can afford with just a few years of work, your parents' house must be heavenly." There's no way to respond to her comment. "I can only image what you thought of mine and Charlie's house."

I turn her towards me and hold onto her shoulders, "Don't say that… don't ever say that. Your house is perfect. It is so full of love, you can… you can feel it before you walk through the door."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Even when it's full of cock-suckers, you can still feel the love," she smiles and wraps her arms around me. I sway her and keep talking, still watching our reflection, "In fact, I think we should move to Forks. Me, you, and Charlie living in the house of love." The sound of her laugh reverberates in my chest.

"It would be close quarters."

"That's okay."

"We'd have to be really quiet, you can hear everything."

"Well, that might be a problem. I like to hear you scream. I mean, scream in pleasure."

"I know what you mean." She sighs in contentment—maybe it's a yawn.

"I know you're tired, it's been a long day, shuffy-shuffy?"

She looks up at me, "Oh, you are a tease. I thought there might be hanky-panky."

"I think I can fulfill that request."

"You haven't kissed me yet."

"Oh, Bella, so demanding. Alright, if you insist." Our kiss is awkward because neither one of us of can control our smiles. We alternate between innocent kisses and Cheshire grins. "Would you like to see more of the place?"

"Yes, Edward, I would like to see more of your home." And the way she says home makes me think of this space differently—with her here, it's not a 'condo,' or a 'place,' it's a home.

"Bedroom?" she asks and raises an eyebrow.

"Upstairs." Bella looks past me and notices the second story loft.

"Shall we?"

"Patience is a virtue, Bella. Can I show you my office first?"

"Oh, yes. Especially if there's a computer and a desk. Those things really turn me on."

"Really?"

"No. But, yes Edward, show me your office."

We walk back down the hallway and I open the door next to the bathroom. Bella immediately goes to my bookshelf. "Ah-ha, now I know why you wanted to come in here. Baseball trophies?"

"Just a few."

"You played baseball?" I nod, a little embarrassed thinking of Jasper's comments from earlier today.

"At U-Dub?"

"Um, yeah."

"Oh, that's hot." Ha! Screw you, Jasper. "What position did you play?" I've never wanted to be a pitcher more than in this moment of my life. "You weren't a pitcher were you?"

"Um, no."

"Good. They're the prima donnas of the sport," You were fucking made for me Isabella Swan.

"But you were an infielder…." Her investigative skills become more apparent each minute I know her, "…second base? Short stop?"

"Short stop."

"Yes… quick, smart… I'm impressed." Is it too late to go outside and have a catch? "And more books, may I?"

"Of course." She plops down on the floor and examines my collection.

"I'm not quite as proud of this reading, the headier stuff is in the living room."

"Oh, you should be proud of these too," Bella runs her fingers along the spines as she examines the collection, still talking to me, but giving her attention to the books. "Eggars… Irving… some of my favorites. You're a reader."

"Yeah, it's my favorite form escape."

"Me too… well it used to be."

"Not any more?"

"No. Now you're my favorite form of escape." Though it takes me a moment to absorb her words, she doesn't even look up, simply continues to go through my collection. "She's Come Undone…"

"Yeah, did you know that the author, Wally Lamb, is a Psychology professor?"

"No I didn't. The poor woman in this book is really messed up."

"Well, not all the way through, just at the beginning."

"Hmmm," Bella knocks at the back of the bookshelf, and moves to examine it more thoroughly. "Edward, is there some sort of secret compartment back here?"

"No… not really secret, it's a place to store books you don't want lying around for people to see."

"So it's a hidden space to keep away from others, but it's not a secret?" Good point.

"Semantics," I shrug.

"Will you let me see?" I look down at that sweet face that I have such difficulty denying.

"Are you sure, Bella? Curiosity killed the cat."

"Meow." Oh, you sexy kitten. When she begins to purr, I give in.

"Okay, scoot over. This layer of shelves slides out to reveal more shelves." Bella crawls away from the bookcase and I push the two parts from the center, and they slide open to reveal a second set of shelves. I brace myself for her reaction.

"Holy mother of over-the-counter porn."

"Hey, this is not porn."

"I give you that with GQ and Men's Health, but Maxim… FHM?" Her mouth hangs open in surprise, but she's definitely amused too.

"What is this, like six year's worth?

"Something like that." She pulls out a random GQ, and I let out a nervous sound.

"You have these in a particular order, don't you?"

"Sort of. But don't worry, I'll be able to find its proper place."

"Post-it notes?"

I nod.

"Easy to find articles?" I nod again, and shrug apologetically. "May I?" Another nod, and she turns to the first post-it note. "Ten Things You Should Never Say in Bed." Narrowed eyes look up at me, "Are you sure you were a virgin when I met you."

"Positive."

She puts back the magazine from where it came, thank goodness, and takes out an FHM, stares at it, then flips it around to show me the cover. One of my favorites… Katy Perry wearing in a see-through nightie and looking over her shoulder at me. Bella raises her brows. I think I'm supposed to say something.

"Bella, that's not bad. That's probably the most modest cover in the bunch." I am not helping my case.

"Edward, you are a naughty boy. A naughty, naughty, perverted boy, aren't you?

"No, no… I'm not. I'm just… you know… I read the articles… and well… yes, you're right. I am a naughty, perverted boy." Bella smirks, playfully. "But this collection is sort of my research."

"Research? What are they teaching you in seminary? Do I need to have a talk with Carlisle? "

"No… please. Not seminary research, life research. I've been preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

"Preparing for the day I met you." Though she attempts to continue her pretend scowl, her face gives her away—lips pressed between her teeth, cheeks warm to a girlish pink. She begins to leaf through a Men's Health, landing on something that catches her attention.

"Bella, do you think we could we peruse the magazine section tomorrow? I'd like…"

"Shh…" she holds her finger up as she continues to read, "just a second..." her finger slams down on the page, "transverse abdominus! That's what it's called."

"Transverse abdominus?"

"Yes… you know, that flat… triangle… stomach muscle… oh, never mind." She closes the magazine and tosses it to the side, looking more red now than pink.

"You mean this?" I pull my shirt from my jeans, just enough to reveal a few inches of flesh.

"Yes, that…. I want to kiss it."

"I'm not going anywhere." Who am I? On her hands and knees, Bella seductively crawls over to where I'm standing against the wall for support. Who is she? Each movement takes me from my usual, slightly aroused state to an uncomfortable strain in my jeans. Looking up at me with deep brown eyes, she hooks her fingers into my belt loops, wets her lips, and plants one moist kiss under my navel. Holy shit. I am not getting a blowjob from Bella Swan.

Bella sits back on her heals and undoes the bottom buttons of my shirt, opening it to reveal more of my stomach. With the exception of the pounding rhythm of my heart, the room is silent. Another look up at me with deep, hooded eyes, and Bella leans in again and drags her tongue down my thin line of hair to my fly. My head hits the wall and I gasp. I am not getting a blowjob from Bella Swan.

I close my eyes and consider baseball games I could replay to make this all last, because I feel her fingers at the top button of my fly. Plunging my hands into her thick head of hair, I begin to massage her scalp - my breath already out of control, my erection pulsing out its plea for release—I think it's Morse Code. Her fingers stop, her body stiffens, and I look down to catch wide eyes of panic staring at my transverse abdominus an inch from her face. I am not getting a blowjob from Bella Swan.

I'm sure she's never done this before, and we don't need to start tonight. I try to speak, but the words are strangled at first. "Bel… Bell..ah… I apra… I appreciate the offer, but I have other plans for you tonight."

She grabs my hands and sits back on her heels, breathing out her dread. "Good, because I never give oral on a first date."

"Duly noted."

"So, what do you have planned for me?"

I join her on my knees, and she strokes her fingers across my bruised cheek, I'm so grateful she hasn't mentioned it. With one hand at the nape of her neck and one hand on her lower back, I lean into her and trail wet kisses, sucking her flesh from behind her ear to her collarbone. Her muscles loosen in my arms. I drag my hands down her body, and cup her backside, before grinding it into me.

"Tell me, Edward…" she pants out.

"Upstairs."

She squeals when I stand and throw her over my shoulder. I take the steps two at a time, and unfurl her onto the bed; she bounces and gives another squeal before breaking out in a fit of laughter. As I stand, watching her roll around our bed, I wish I had a camera. I want this moment to be captured forever—so instead, I just look at her, burning the vision into my mind.

"Big bed." She laughs and rolls again.

"Yes. Big bed," I say taking off my shoes and socks.

"What? No more tour?"

"The tour is on hold until tomorrow."

"Mmm. So, are you going to answer my question? What do you intend to do with me?"

"Well, Isabella…" I say, emphasizing each syllable. "I'm not sure if you've noticed," I say, pulling off each boot, "fucking sexy boots, by the way…" and throw them over my shoulder.

"Thanks… I'll tell Alice, they're hers," she laughs and I crawl up onto the bed, between her legs, "noticed what?"

I begin to unbutton and unzip her jeans, "Each time we've been together, you have been the instigator…"

"Yes, thank you for mentioning it… I'm painfully aware of that little pattern."

"No worries," I crawl back down off the bed, "I thought tonight I could wear the pants, while you Isabella Swan," I hold onto the cuffs at the bottom of her jeans, "wear none," and pull them off in one swift move, and she squeals once more. Fuck yeah, I've been thinking about that move all day.

"Oh, my."

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.

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A/N:

Oh, my... did I just do that? Worry not. You will get this lemon in full detail in the next update—two weeks.

Also, you can follow me on twitter where I have nothing interesting to say. LizLemonBennett.

I promised an outtake of Saintward's (edging out 'Seminaryward' in the poll) search for handkerchiefs to celebrate hitting 500 reviews. I'll post it as a chapter in the 'She Gives Me Religion Teasers'—I just need a couple more days.

Teaser next Saturday.

I truly appreciate reviews.

-Liz x