A/N: FAQ: Will I be in Vegas.

A: Yes.

Ermmm. So none of you has pitchforks in your hands, right? Okay. Let's do this.

When he figured out that Bella was having nightmares, Edward took to sleeping with his bedroom door open. He'd read that vivid dreams were common during pregnancy. Unfortunately, hers tended toward the darker side.

One night, he thought he heard a whimper. He got out of bed, walking slowly to his door, listening. Bella groaned. Edward walked faster across the hallway. He hesitated for a moment, his hand on the knob of her door, but when he heard her cry out, he went in.

The blankets were entirely twisted around her legs. Her face was pinched as she clenched her fists in the single sheet that clung to her upper body. "Don't," she begged. "Please don't."

Edward's heart broke as he watched her struggle with invisible monsters. Stepping to her bedside, he sat, catching her flailing arms.

"No. No! Let me go!" she cried, and he let her yank her arms away.

"Bella." He shook her shoulders.

She gasped as she sat up straight, her bleary eyes opening. "Get away from me! I'm not yours. I'm not yours!" she cried, skittering away from him until her back was up against the headboard.

For a wild moment, he thought she was actually talking to him. Her words were like a sucker punch to his gut, and he sucked in a sharp breath. The next moment, though, she blinked sporadically. "Edward?" she asked, her voice small and uncharacteristically thin.

"You're okay, sweet girl," he said quietly, stroking her cheek, carefully sitting back against the headboard. She was trembling visibly, her tears gathered beneath her long eyelashes. He waited while she caught her breath.

Lucidity came back to her slowly, but when she'd gathered her wits a little, she edged closer to him, winding her arms around his neck. He ran his hands up and down her back, just holding her while she shook. Rocking slowly, he kissed the side of her head every so often.

Minutes passed before her grip loosened and she turned her head, kissing him back in a tiny motion. She laid her head on his shoulder, sniffling quietly. "The bed's a mess," she muttered.

His hand against the back of her head, he gave her forehead a lingering kiss. "Come to my room tonight."

She raised her head, looking at him with teary eyes and nodded. "I would really like that," she whispered.

He helped her untangle her feet. They walked across the hallway, fingers tightly entwined. When they stopped by the side of the bed he took her face in his hand, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. Her eyes were still bloodshot, but she smiled. Smiling back, he kissed her, slow and tender.

Even though they both knew what drove her nightmares, it was surprisingly easy to find happiness when he was kissing her, when she was in his arms like this, her hands warm on his bare back. He could feel the hardness of her belly between them.

She made him so happy, and when he opened his eyes, she looked happy to be in his arms, kissing him. He brushed his lips over the tired skin of her eyes, tasting the salt left over from her tears. "Come on," he murmured. "There's still time to get some sleep."

Reaching past her, he turned down the blankets, holding them while she climbed into bed. Her smile was indulgent, and for once, she didn't try to stop him from taking care of her. When he got in bed, she rolled over, snuggling closer to him.

He stroked her cheeks, brushed his fingers through her hair. "You've had a lot of nightmares this week."

"I know. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." He traced the line of her nose with the tip of his finger. "I was thinking, though. If you wanted, you could sleep with me. I mean here," he said quickly, feeling his cheeks warm. "I mean... it seems to make you feel better when you're here with me. Just sleep. I promise to keep my hands to myself."

She laughed, ducking her head. "I'm sorry. It's a little funny, isn't it? My husband luring me to his bed with the promise not to touch me?"

Looking down, she spread her hand, resting it lightly on his chest. In the quietness of the room, he heard the stutter in her breath as she drew her fingers down. "What if..." Her eyes flitted up to his, and even in the low light that filtered in from the open window, he could see her expression - nervous and yet...

Hungry.

If he had to imagine what he looked like when he was ravenous for her, when he had to take a breath and step back because if he didn't, he would want to go too far, he thought he might look exactly like she did then.

Instantly, his mouth went dry. "What if?" he asked, his voice gravely.

She took a deep breath. "What if I didn't want you to keep your hands to yourself?"

Edward swallowed hard. He cupped her cheek. "Bella..."

It was no less than what he wanted, what he'd wanted for what felt like forever. He wondered if she had any idea how difficult it was sometimes not to let his hands wander where they wanted. More than once, he'd dreamed of what it would be like to be inside her, to show her the things he felt that he didn't know how to say out loud.

He drew his hand along her side, curling his fingers around her hip.

Hungry. So hungry.

Once she'd planted the seed, it was impossible not to act. They both shifted, coming together with urgent kisses. Her hands were wonderful against his bare skin, her every touch sending a thrill through him. And God, the tiny moans as they kissed, as his hands ran up her sides, under her shirt and his fingers skimmed the undersides of her breasts, were working him up quicker than he would have believed was possible.

"Bella," he rumbled breathlessly, using his nose to tilt her chin up so he could kiss along her neck.

Words.

He was missing something important.

"Oh," she cried softly and gasped when he circled her nipple with one finger. Edward couldn't help but grin. He'd been very detailed in his research. One of the reasons he hadn't tried to go further than their, as of late, very thorough kisses was because he knew some pregnant women couldn't stand the thought of sex and others...

Well, it seemed he could add breast sensitivity to her list of symptoms. She certainly wasn't complaining. In fact, she leaned back, her hand on his shoulder pulling him with her. She reached down between them, pulling her nightshirt off.

He paused, hovering above her, tracing a path from the graceful lines of her neck, across her collarbone, down between her breasts, lingering at the hard swell of her stomach.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered with reverent awe. The words didn't seem like enough. He didn't know the right words to describe what he felt. She was so fresh, so young, and the look in her eyes, the way she bit her lip and flushed pink at his simple praise, was deceivingly innocent.

He was so helplessly wrapped around her finger, and he didn't think she really knew it.

He leaned down, propped up on one arm to keep his weight off her while he kissed her. His free hand stroked the length of her body, running a finger along the hem of her pajama pants. Her head tilted with his, her fingers tousling his hair as her body moved under him, urging his hand down where they both wanted him to be.

It took him unforgivably long to realize her fevered wiggling had turned to writhing, and her wanton moans to frightened whimpers. Her body - stiff and frozen with obvious apprehension - broke through his hunger, and he backed off her quickly, sitting up on his knees. "Bella?"

She had a hand over her eyes, the other hand gripping the blankets close to her - up to her chin. She was trembling visibly, her mouth open slightly as her breaths came in wheezes.

Edward's heart twisted. Any arousal he'd felt disappeared completely when he saw the way she cowered, scooting to the very edge of the bed. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

Her frustrated growl cut him off. "I wanted to... Believe me I want to. I don't know what's wrong with me." There was a tremor to her voice. Even under the blankets, he could see her shoulders were hunched - the way she used to carry herself when they'd first met.

With a soft sigh, he reached over, turning on the light. She hunkered down even further, her head tucked into her chest. Edward looked around, locating her nightshirt. She flinched a little when he touched her shoulder, but sat up, letting him slip it back on. "I'm sorry," she said under her breath, her voice thin.

"What could you possibly have to be sorry for?" He stroked her cheek gently, aching for her and wishing she would look up. "It's completely understandable."

At that, she did look up, her eyes confused and frustrated. "Understandable? Well, maybe you should let me in on it, because I don't understand at all."

Carefully, he shifted, keeping his eyes steady on her so he could be sure she was okay with him touching her. He sat against the headboard, wrapping his arm around her for the second time that night. To his relief, she let him, laying her head trustingly against his side.

"It's understandable because of what he... what Alec did to you," he said gently.

Under his arm, her body went rigid again for a moment, and her breath strangled in her throat. "What do you mean? What does that have to do with this? He went psychopathic on me after we... After..."

Over the months, he'd wondered if this was something he should try to talk to her about. She seemed to be handling things so well, but Edward knew that some wounds hid deep, only rearing their heads under certain stimuli.

Cupping her cheek, he tilted her head up so he could look at her. For a long moment, he didn't speak, searching for the right words. "Do you understand that he took advantage of your vulnerability, that what he did was only dubiously consensual?" he asked gently.

There was a whine to her breath, and she shifted away from him, bringing her knees up close to her chest and looking in the opposite direction. He was relieved and a little surprised that she didn't shake off his arm. "I didn't say no," she muttered.

"You did say no, actually." He brushed her hair back tenderly. "Remember what you told me? He started kissing you, and you told him to stop. He didn't. You were bereft and not thinking straight... and he had to have known that if you had been, you never would have given in to him."

She'd begun to tremble again. Her eyes were shut tight.

"And maybe that would have been okay, except he used what should have been a gift against you, used it to claim some kind of ownership over you," he finished. "That was what happened the last time you let someone touch you. Of course you're going to be wary."

She raised her head, and he saw that her eyes were tortured. "But I trust you," she whispered. "You would never do what he did."

"No. I would never - I will never - hurt you." He kissed the top of her head. "And I'm glad you know that. But your body isn't convinced, that's all."

"That's all," Bella repeated, her tone acidic, but she sighed, leaning against him again. "I hate him," she admitted in a whisper.

Edward felt a flash of red hot anger go down his spine, and he held her tighter. "I do, too."

~0~

Bella sucked in a sharp breath, readjusting herself on the examination table.

"What is it?" Edward asked from beside her, his hand on her arm. She turned to him, and he smiled widely. "Is Bean moving again?"

His smile helped quell some of the anxiety she felt. She nodded. She'd felt the baby move for a few days now and still wasn't used to it.

Edward slipped his hand beneath her shirt, putting his hand over her stomach though he knew damn well he couldn't feel, as much as he'd been trying.

"It really does feel like butterflies," she observed, more talking out loud than anything. "Or like she's doing somersaults."

He looked up at her. "You think it's a girl, then?"

Her smile faltered, and she looked down, toying idly with the crinkly paper covering the exam table.

"Bella?" Edward said, his voice soft, quiet. He took her hand.

She couldn't look at him.

Her own words from a few nights before echoed in her head. How much she hated Alec. She hated how scared he made her, how what he'd done - how filthy he made her feel - had shattered the intimacy she'd shared with Edward.

Picturing Alec's face in her mind made her furious, made her skin crawl.

What if the baby she carried was anything like him? Boy or girl, what if her baby looked like the man she hated, the man who'd hurt her?

To that point, before she could feel it move, she'd been protecting it on instinct alone. It was a fierceness she didn't know how to explain. It was a desperate need that had driven her to marry a complete stranger - not for herself, but so Alec might not ever find, ever claim the innocent life inside her as his.

But feeling it move inside her, it was all becoming a reality instead of an idea, a baby instead of an instinct.

She was terrified she would hate her baby when she could actually hold it in her arms.

"Are you okay?" Edward stroked her cheek gently.

Bella glanced at him and nodded. "I'm fine," she said quietly. She tried smiling at him. "Need to pee."

It wasn't a lie, of course, but the look in his eye told her he wasn't fooled. Luckily, the technician came in then.

"Hello Mommy, Daddy," she said with a smile. "Sorry about the wait."

"It's no problem," Bella said.

"Ha." The technician pursed her lips. "Let's get this done. I'm sure you must be getting antsy."

"A little," Bella admitted.

The technician sat at the side of the bed, opposite Edward. She tugged up Bella's shirt, exposing the expanse of skin she needed.

"We're finding out the sex, right? Assuming we can get the little one to cooperate?" the technician asked.

Bella swallowed hard and nodded.

"So what are you hoping for, Daddy?" she asked conversationally, glancing up at Edward as she drew the wand over Bella's stomach. "A little boy to play ball with?"

Edward chuckled. "That would be nice, but no. A little girl who looks exactly like Bella would be perfect."

Bella looked up, and Edward winked. She couldn't help but smile. He was trying to make her feel better. It was working.

The technician gave them an indulgent look. "Well, it looks like you got your wish." She tapped at the screen. "This right here looks like a daddy's girl."

Edward's hand tightened, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "A little girl," he repeated. "A mini you."

Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, Bella had to wipe tears from her eyes. She was smiling. "A girl," she repeated, her voice slightly awed and slightly scared.

She wanted to bask in the happy images that came to mind - a pretty little girl in her arms with hair curly like Charlie's; that giggle that only little girls could master, all sunshine and happy things; being able to see her own eyes, her father's eyes, staring back at her from a tiny face.

But mixed in with that potential, she also recalled the pictures she'd seen in Alec's house of himself and his twin sister when they were younger. She saw a tiny girl with Alec's jet black hair and his sister's scowl, with their severe, though not unattractive, features.

~0~.

"Dammit," Edward muttered under his breath. He tapped one foot restlessly against the floor of the car. The other foot was very firmly planted on the brakes.

Traffic was at a standstill.

Edward was not a very patient man when it came to traffic. He preferred going fast. Not moving put him on edge as it was. Making matters worse, he was very late to pick up Bella. She'd gotten off work half an hour before.

It wouldn't have been a big deal except she'd had the night shift that evening. The hour was late. As it was, she got out of work half an hour after Home Depot closed. Edward was not comfortable with the idea she was alone at night, even if the area was well lit.

He had the proverbial bad feeling. It was an itch under his skin, a creeping along his spine. Something was wrong.

But every time he texted Bella, she assured him she was fine. Unless he could figure a way to make his car fly, he'd be better off just calming down.

He tapped out a rapid, anxious tattoo on the steering wheel, growling as he slumped down in his seat to wait.

~0~

Bella was not surprised when the song she'd been listening to was interrupted by the chime alerting her she had a text message. She sighed, giving the phone a patient expression, knowing full well who was texting. Again.

It was sweet of Edward to be so worried about her.

Maybe it's best if you wait for me at the restaurant on the corner.

Bella twisted her lips. She'd been enjoying the relatively warm air. Mid-September nights in Forks were never this mild. But as she thought of the restaurant in question, her stomach gave a loud rumble, already anticipating the delicious nachos they served there.

Fine, but I'm getting food. We can have dinner there.

She was surprised when, not a minute later, she got another text with his acceptance. Her lips twisted again. He must have been well and truly worried to agree to dinner at the little dive without complaint.

Standing, Bella shouldered her purse, draped her orange vest over her arm and started walking.

She'd only gone as far as the edge of the building before something grasped her arm, hauling her into the darkness of the alley between Home Depot and the empty building beside it. Before she could scream, Bella found herself shoved hard up against the wall, a rough hand clapped tight over her mouth.

At first, she only saw his eyes. Malevolent blue eyes. Half of the duo that had chased her away from her home and plagued her nightmares.

James.

A/N: Jeez, James, there are other, more subtle ways to get someone's attention.

Thank you to barburella and shug. And ginny... who is actually gonna read this chap for the first time on FF... that's... strange.

So uh... how we doing over there?

**EDIT**

FAQ: Wait. I thought James was the father of the baby. Wtf?

A: No, you assumed he was the father of the baby. ;) In chapter 2, I purposefully wrote the scene so it wasn't clear. The intention was to invoke confusion - because that was the state of mind Bella was in. It was a means of trying to elicite an emotion, a mindset, so you might understand her turmoil. Problem is, this is fanfic. People naturally assume that James is the abusive ex (so to speak).

And no, it wasn't a mistake I'm trying to cover up. In chapter 2, Bella also mentions that the baby's father had a talent for blinding people to his true nature. Sound like someone we know? Alec. Yes.

Alec was always the father. Sorry for any confusion.