This is for einfach_mich, who had a dream about a late-night feeding...

"I'll go," Edward mumbles, untangling his legs from mine. He starts to roll away from my side of the bed, where he's been sleeping with his chest pressed against my back.

"No, 'smy turn," I mumble, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Go back to sleep." He doesn't argue, just closes his eyes and clutches my pillow to his chest. I sigh, knowing I'll have to wrestle it away from him when I come back.

I stumble down the hall to her room, open the door, and switch on the dim nightlight.

"Shhhh, Gracie girl, shhh," I whisper, making my way over to her crib. She's beautiful, a little bit Black (tufts of straight, black hair cover her little head) and a little but Cullen (her baby blue eyes are getting greener evey day). Her tiny, perfect little face is twisted in anger as she wails, hungry and pissed off that we haven't managed to figure out how to get the bottle in her mouth within five seconds of her waking up. I slip one hand under her neck and the other under her bottom, lift her up, and cradle her in my left arm.

"Shhh, let's not keep Daddy awake," I tell her, stroking her cheek gently with my finger. She turns her head, her lips pursed and searching, and I let her latch onto my knuckle while I walk her down to the kitchen. It gets tricky, though, when I have to make her bottle; I shift her to my shoulder so I can use my hands, but she starts fussing immediately.

"Gracie is the quietest girl," I sing, making up some nonsense lyrics to keep her calm. "Gracie likes to let her Daddy sleep, oh yes she does, and she loves to snuggle while Papa makes her bottle." I pour the special nursery water Edward buys into the bottle, mix in some formula, and set it on the stove to warm. While it's heating up, I distract her with more silly songs and let her suck on my finger some more. By the time the bottle's ready, my tricks are failing and she's crying again.

I decide to feed her in the living room, thinking maybe Edward will sleep through her cries if we're far enough away. We sit on the couch and I hold her close to my chest, getting comfortable before I hold the bottle to her lips. She won't stop crying long enough to latch on, so I give up after a few tries and hold her up to my shoulder again. I stand up and make a few laps around the living room, doing the bouncy walk she likes, and wait for her to quiet down.

The thing is, as soon as I sit down again, she starts wailing. I check her diaper and it's dry; she doesn't feel like she has a fever or anything, so I have no idea why she isn't eating. I try the bouncy walk again, combine it with another song, and wait until she's completely settled to try the bottle again. I'm sure it's gonna work.

It doesn't. The second my ass hits the couch, she's crying again.

"Honey, I don't know what you want," I sing-song, rocking her back and forth, hoping she'll calm down this way.

"Lemme try," Edward says, shuffling around the corner. He's all sleepy and rumpled, his hair messy and sticking up in all different directions. He's really fucking cute.

I hand over the baby without question. At first I would worry when she preferred Edward to me, thinking it must be some deep-down acknowledgement on her part that he was her biological father. After our first month together, though, I've learned that there are times when our daughter prefers me, too. That she loves us both, needs us both.

"Baby girl, are you giving Papa a hard time?" he asks, ducking down to kiss her forehead. He walks her around the room, bouncing her just like I did, and then reaches out for her bottle. I hand it to him and watch as he offers it to her, still swaying gently. She takes it immediately, latching on and drinking like a champ.

"Seriously?" I ask, annoyed that I didn't think of that. "That's all it took? She loves you more."

"Hmmm, she wasn't too fond of me when I tried to give her a bath last night," Edward reminds me.

"Oh, yeah, she loved me more then," I tease. I lean back against the corner of the couch and make space for Edward to sit in front of me. "C'mere."

"You can go back to bed," he offers, but I shake my head no. It's hard for me to fall asleep without him anymore. He sits down and leans back against my chest, his head lolling against my shoulder.

"She's pretty cute, isn't she?" I ask, watching her little eyelids flutter as she drinks.

"Yeah," Edward sighs sleepily. "I think we should keep her."

"Mmm, me too," I agree, kissing the curve of his neck. "I might keep you around, too. Since you're so good with the baby and all."

"Oh yeah?" he teases. "That's so kind of you. I can cook, too, don't forget that."

"You are a man of many talents," I concede. "I guess I'll keep the both of you, then."

Edward turns his head and presses his lips softly to mine. "Yeah, I suppose I'll keep you, too," he says, his lips twitching up into a smile. I wrap one arm around his waist, resting it just under his, helping to support the slight weight of our baby girl while I stroke her cheek with my free hand.

Even though it's two in the morning, even though I haven't had a full night's sleep in over a month, I've never been happier than I am right now. This has to be athe best moment of my life so far-sitting here, in the quiet, dark living room, with my family in my arms.

All of your reviews to the epilogue were lovely. Thank you so much!

I can't quit these boys... there's more to come. Keep the story on alert if you want to know about it. xoxo