So, thank you so much again for your words of love and support for this story and thank you for the notes about the vanishing indicators! I hope these new ones work!

It means so much that you are enjoying this – even with the slow burn…but hey, our kids have got to meet eventually…

See you on the other side…

Chapter 3: Introductions

"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending." ~ Maria Robinson

Cullen woke having slept soundly; a fact that surprised him. He had, he thought, maybe worn himself out with all his plotting against Mike fucking Newton. He had smiled to himself, as he took his morning piss, about all the things he'd love to do to the motherfucker. The shit head really had no idea who he was messing with.

He was to stay in his cell until four – two fucking hours to go - which was when his twenty-four hour punishment was over. Garrett had been to see him earlier with a rescheduled friend visit for Jake and a disappointed look on his face, which made Cullen's insides clench.

Garrett had hated rearranging the meeting, knowing that Jake Black was no good for Edward - but he did it anyway. The phone call to one Carlisle Cullen had been the kicker however.

Even though Carlisle's words had been accepting of his son's rejection, the tone in his voice told Garrett a completely different story. He was devastated, it was clear and, being a father himself, it infuriated Garrett that Edward couldn't see it; instead seeing his father as someone other, than a man that cared deeply for his son and his well being.

Carlisle Cullen hadn't seen his only child for over a year and it tore him to pieces. Edward and he had always had a tenuous relationship. They were far too alike and Edward blamed him for things that he never allowed Carlisle to explain fully. He was too hot headed – like his damned mother – and it was with that comment and a slammed door that Carlisle had left his son's apartment fifteen months before, without another word, hearing about his most recent arrest through a neighbour.

Part of him understood why Edward hated him so much - he was damn sure not going to win any father of the year awards - but he still hoped for some kind of reconciliation and that's exactly what he told Garrett.

Garrett had tried to be as reassuring as he could be but he knew he was talking complete shit. Edward only wanted to see Jake. Garrett knew, even if Edward didn't say it, that he missed his friend and Garrett wanted to do all he could to help him. He was fond of the kid and hated seeing him so morose. He had, in their more recent meetings, tried to dial back on the more invasive questions into Edward's thoughts about his father and the rest of his family but, like the stubborn fool he was, he wasn't going to stop completely.

Cullen had - as much as he tried to deny it - appreciated Garrett's gesture, given how he had been so fucking verbose about his thoughts on Jake and once again he kicked himself for acting like an asshole with his councillor.

He just couldn't seem to switch his cocky shit mouth off.

"So, I take it we don't like Philosophy?" Garrett had said with a small smirk.

Cullen smirked back. "You could say that."

Garrett nodded towards his shoes and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks for the shit storm from Mike Newton, by the way. I owe you big time for that."

Newton had barged into his office, the day before, acting like King Dick and demanding that Garrett speak to Cullen and warn him that he was walking on thin ice.

"It's your job to talk to him about shit like this," he had yelled with an accusatory finger in his direction. "So do your job and talk to him! He can't keep behaving like this; I don't give a fuck who his connections are!"

It had taken all of the calming exercises that Garrett had learned in his twenty-plus years as a councillor to stop himself from grabbing the prick and smashing his face into the desk between them.

"I'll see what I can do," he had growled back, clenching the arms of his chair, wishing to all hell that it was Newton's neck. He had stormed back out of the office, muttering something about a goddamn incident report before slamming the door behind him so hard that it made the pictures of Garrett's wife and daughter shake across the wall.

"Cock," Garrett murmured under his breath at the memory.

"About that," Cullen mumbled, feeling like just that for causing the trouble that Garrett found himself in because of his behaviour, "My bad."

It wasn't a full apology but fuck if that was the closest Garrett would get from Edward Cullen.

"Yes, it is," Garrett agreed with a nod before slapping his hands to his hips. "Jeez, Edward, you're better than that."

Cullen sighed despondently and pulled his knees up to his chest as he remained sitting on his bed. "The guy was talking shit, Garrett. He deserved it."

"Well, whatever your reasons, you have a lot of making up to do."

"Oh yeah?" Cullen asked raising an eyebrow at his councillor.

"Yeah," Garrett answered back quickly, not in the mood for his assholery. "I've enrolled you for Literature. I know you like to read." He gestured to the shelves on the right wall of the cell that were littered with battered copies of texts even he hadn't heard of. "And the tutor is a woman so...maybe there won't be as much...hostility."

"Hostility?" Cullen repeated with a small smile.

"You know what I mean, Edward," Garrett snapped back. "You promised you'd try, so prove to me you are. I had to kiss that son of a ..." he bit his tongue and glanced around himself quickly. "I had to speak nice to Newton to let him give you another chance so don't tell me I've wasted my time here."

Cullen sighed and sat forward, running his hands through the chaos on his head. It was a sign of stress that Garrett rarely saw and it concerned him.

He watched the young man for a moment, wanting so much to see what was going on inside his complex head. For all of his showboating, Edward Cullen did have chinks in his armour. They weren't shown often but when they were it was uncomfortable for all involved.

"You'll do fine, Edward," Garrett said quietly, moving a step closer towards him on the bed.

The guard behind him shifted too.

"Yeah," Cullen muttered, into his chest. He looked up and smiled slightly. "We'll see, won't we?"

He couldn't explain it – not that he wanted to - but even after his long ass sleep he was still feeling tired. The walls had started to close around him ever so slightly and it was making his head feel heavy. Nineteen hours locked in one room could do that to a man – even him.

"Wednesday morning," Garrett said with an encouraging nod. "The tutor is a Miss Swan. She's very good. We won't have time for a meet with her so…try to be…" He struggled to find the right word. "Just try, ok?"

Cullen laughed with an exhale hard down his nose and nodded. "Ok," he mimicked, holding up three fingers, "Scout's honour."

Garrett smirked at the gesture as he turned to leave the cell.

"And just to be safe," he muttered with a quick look back over his shoulder towards Cullen. "I've made sure all the chairs in that particular classroom have been bolted to the fucking floor."

Cullen couldn't help but laugh loudly at his councillor's language. He had only ever heard Garrett curse once before and that was when Cullen's fist had connected with his jaw during one of their first sessions.

"Good thinking, G," he had called after him, before the guard shut the door of his cell, leaving him alone once again.

=PoF=

The final two hours of his punishment crept by at a snail's pace with Cullen almost knocking the guard the fuck off his feet when he finally opened the cell to let him out. He stretched his arms back and cracked his neck loudly as he walked quickly towards the yard where he knew everyone would be chilling, as they did every Tuesday afternoon, before and after dinner.

He stepped out into the burning sun, blinking erratically as his eyes got used to the brightness.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered as he rubbed his face.

"Yo, Cullen!"

The booming voice came from across the basketball court and Cullen found himself smiling at as it ricocheted relentlessly around him.

"McCarty," he answered as he wandered towards the giant man who had called him.

Emmett was sweating like a bitch in heat after playing basketball for the past hour, revelling in the burn through his body that happened when he elbowed, shoved and cursed at the other fuckers on the court. It was as close as he could get to the rush of adrenaline that he missed so much when he boosted a 'sexy lady' with an eight litre engine and leather seats.

"Where ya been fucker?" McCarty asked with a wide smile and a slap against Cullen's shoulder that made him wobble on his feet. "I've missed your punk ass face."

"Give me a smoke and I'll tell you all about it," Cullen answered with a smirk, wincing internally at the force at which his hand had connected with him. Fucking Emmett...

Emmett pulled a cigarette from his pocket and flicked Cullen a match as they made their way across to a small seating area at the back of the court.

"Move!" Emmett barked at the two men who were already seated.

Cullen snorted as he watched the two pussies scatter like leaves at the sound of Emmett's voice. He sat down as soon as they vacated the bench and slumped, closing his eyes slowly as the sun beat down on him and the smoke whispered from between his lips.

"So, what gives? You been busy jerking off since yesterday?" Emmett laughed and lit his own cigarette, moaning as he breathed the smoke in.

"If only," Cullen replied as he watched the basketball game resume without Emmett. "No, it was Newton."

"Fucker," Emmett murmured with a shake of his head. He really hated that asshole...

"Agreed," Cullen replied as he blew the smoke from his lungs. "I had a slight 'disagreement' with one of the tutors and the shit head put me on twenty-four hour punishment."

"Fucker," Emmett repeated and Cullen nodded turning towards him.

"It's on, Emmett. I shit you not."

Emmett saw the look of determination in Cullen's eyes, bumped his fist and smirked with his cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Better believe it baby," he acquiesced enthusiastically with a wink.

He would have Cullen's back. They had known each other a lot of years both inside and outside detention and it was the least he could fucking do. Cullen had been there for Emmett on a couple of occasions on the outside, saving his ass both times. Yeah, if Cullen needed him, he would be there, especially if it meant getting that Newton prick and wiping the smile of his butt ugly face.

They both turned quickly - their heads snapping with a sharpness only achieved by long sentences of incarceration with fuckers who could be sly and quick - when they heard a loud bout of whistles and jeers from the court.

Emmett snorted and smiled. "Talking of tutors," he muttered as he cocked a satisfied eyebrow.

Cullen followed his stare across the court and through the fencing, to see a small brunette with the tightest ass he had ever seen, wrapped in a black, knee length pencil skirt, scuttling quickly across the car lot towards a sweet Mini Cooper. Her pale legs looked awesome as they disappeared into a pair of black heeled shoes that, even from Cullen's viewpoint, screamed hard sex.

Fuck me...

"Who the fuck is that?" he asked, trying to hide the fact that he was craning his neck to see past the other inmates who were milling around the fence like kids at a zoo, blocking his view. Bastards...

"That is Miss Swan," Emmett answered with a slow sigh as he leaned his elbows back on the table behind him and crossed his legs at the ankles, "The new Lit tutor. She's cool actually. I had my first session with her today."

Cullen's head spun back around towards him as he blew out his smoke. "You take Lit?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Emmett answered quickly. "What the fuck of it?" His shoulders rose in defence making him look even bigger. Cullen recoiled slightly in his seat.

"Nothing, man," Cullen surrendered with a shrug. He turned back to see the soft-topped Mini whizz past the fence and out towards the exit. "Shit," he mumbled.

"Agreed," Emmett replied, flicking his cigarette across the yard towards Quil Embry who narrowed his eyes in response. Cullen and Emmett laughed together. They hated Quil Embry. He was a cocky assed motherfucker who didn't know his place, which was on the floor along with the cigarette bud Emmett had discarded.

"Well, at least that's a plus," Cullen muttered as he put his cigarette out on the bench beside him.

"What?" Emmett asked with a frown.

"The tutor..." he waved his hand towards where the Mini had disappeared. "Miss..."

"Swan," Emmett finished for him.

"Yeah, Miss Swan," he acknowledged. "That's one good thing about me doing Lit."

Emmett chuckled. "You're doing Lit?"

"Yeah," Cullen answered with a roll of his eyes. "Garrett wants me to prove to the powers that be that I can 'improve' myself inside. Some shit about how it could help towards an early parole. I'm not holding my breath."

"Sounds like a croc to me," Emmett said with a frown.

"Agreed," Cullen replied before leaning back to continue watching the basketball players that had, like him, long forgotten the small brunette in the sweet Mini Cooper.

=PoF=

Isabella threw her bag down by the front door with a long breath, along with her keys that she placed in a china bowl. She was anal about where her belongings went and liked to keep everything meticulously clean and just so. It was her way of keeping order in her life, or so her therapist kept telling her. Jamie called it OCD, much to her annoyance.

She walked over to play the answer machine while flicking through the mail that she had received and immediately heard her mother's voice come through the speaker.

"I'm assuming you're still alive and well, even though I haven't heard a peep from you since yesterday. I hope you haven't forgotten that you are coming to the house this evening for dinner. If you aren't here by seven, I'll be sending Phil out with a search party. Bye."

Isabella rolled her eyes and pressed call back on her phone, leaving it on speaker as she walked over to her tropical fish tank and sprinkled fish food across the smooth water, smiling as they came to the surface and puckered and kissed at the flakes.

"Isabella?" her mother's anxious voice filled her living room.

"Yes, Mom, it's me. I'm alive, I'm safe and I'll be at the house prompt for seven so cancel the damn search party!"

She heard her mother huff and click her tongue in response.

"Very funny young lady," she chastised. "I'm allowed to worry, Isabella. I am your mother after all."

"I know, I know. I've just been really busy."

It was the truth and honestly she could have done without having to have dinner with her mother after the day she had just had.

She had woken up late after being up half the night having the same dream repeatedly. She'd tried to go another night without her pills and had done nothing but regret it as soon as her head hit the pillow.

It was a new dream this time however. There were no faceless men or wet sand but her father was still there. He kept whispering something to her over and over and try as she might she just couldn't get near enough to hear him.

That was when the hooded stranger came and pulled her back from him as he had done all those years before.

He was still a stranger to her - both in and out of her dreams - after apparently disappearing without a trace from the doorway of the building he had held her in as she cried for her Daddy. She truly believed that the police and her mother thought her fucking insane when she tried to describe what had happened; that a hooded unknown had pulled her from seeing her father beaten to death.

All she knew was that he was definitely male and that he couldn't have been much older than she was. But he was never found and unsurprisingly, no one had seen anything. Regardless, he was still there in her subconscious every night, desperately pulling and dragging her to safety.

After waking up twenty minutes after her alarm and having the quickest shower in history, she had managed to make it to Arthur Kill with five minutes to spare before her first class. She was all over the place, forgetting her book for Sam and unable to do the lesson she had planned because the fucking connection in her room from her laptop to the interactive board was shot to shit.

She tried her hardest to think on her feet in front of the two technicians, one guard, Angela Weber, Mike Newton and four prison inmates, before inspiration struck her.

"Ok," she had breathed, running her hands through her hair. "Let's try some word association to begin."

"Word a-what?" Quil laughed from his seat in the second row, next to Sam Uley.

"Association, fuck wit," Emmett grumbled from his seat next to the wall that appeared to be straining against his large back that was leaning against it.

"What's that?" Tyler asked with a small frown.

"Word association," she repeated, "When we associate one word with another."

She pulled her magic marker from her case and wrote the same sentence on the white board as Mike Newton and the two technicians wandered quietly out of the door.

"I still don't get it," Tyler said, slouching into his seat.

"Yeah, Miss S, I'm with Tyler on this one," Emmett said with an apologetic shrug.

Isabella smiled. "Emmett, if I said the word car to you what word would you think of?"

"Hot," he replied with a rise and drop of his right shoulder.

"Why?" Isabella asked taking a step towards him.

He bit the inside of his mouth and exhaled down his nose. He was really thinking about it and Isabella couldn't help but feel excited by it.

"Because when a car engine runs it gets hot and when I hear the engine of a car I get hot. The fucking sound of a GT 500 has to be the sexiest sound in the world."

He grinned and winked at her making her smile back. "Great answer," she whispered.

She turned from him slowly and wrote the word car and hot on the board, connecting them with a small line.

"Tyler, when I say the word hot, what word do you think of?"

Isabella heard Quil mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'Miss Swan's ass' but had no time to ask before Emmett launched a pencil at him with such speed that it lodged itself into the chair behind him. Lucky fucker…

The guard made to move towards Emmett but Isabella shook her head and eyed him quickly. She would handle it. She had to.

"Tyler," she repeated, ignoring the looks of death that were being shot from Emmett towards Quil at the back of the room. She hoped the little shit was petrified.

"Sun?" Tyler asked nervously.

"Perfect," Isabella praised, writing it on the board.

"Sam," she continued. "What word associates with sun?"

"Moon," he answered quietly with a quick glance in her direction. She smiled at him and nodded.

"Quil," she said sharply, "Keeping your eyes on my face and off my ass." His eyes snapped up as Tyler hid a laugh behind his fist. "What word do you associate with moon?"

Isabella had to admit she even surprised herself and she could see on the look of the other people in the room, including Angela, that they were shocked as shit too.

"Um…" Quil shifted in his seat and glanced at everyone around him, trying his hardest not to look embarrassed.

Isabella suddenly felt guilty. "When you think of the moon, Quil, what else do you think of?"

"Stars?" he muttered down towards his chest.

"Perfect," she answered, writing it quickly. "Gentlemen, what you have just done here is called, word association. When we think of one word, a million and one other words can come into your head. For example, if I think of the word red, I think of love, passion, fire…blood." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "It's about thinking outside of the box, thinking further than the one word on the page."

She looked at the five faces in front of her to see a flash of understanding glance across all of them before she handed each of them an A4 notebook.

"On the first page on the top line I want you to write a word that means a lot to you. So, Emmett, if you want to write the word car, be my guest." He grinned back at her and nodded. "And then what I want you to do is list all the other words that you can associate with that. Hot, gas, leather…"

"Miss S," he teased with a loud gust through his lips "You're gonna have to stop before I get too…um….excited…" He glanced down at his crotch and wiggled his eyebrows. She really had no fucking idea what those words did to him.

Even Sam laughed at that comment as Isabella rolled her eyes at the giant man. "Get on with it, McCarty," she replied poking the page as she smiled at Angela.

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered.

She had gone around the rest of the room, seeing what the others had come up with, clicking her tongue at Quil's choice of 'sex' and smiling like a fool at Sam's choice of 'hope.'

"I'm sorry if this is too...simplistic for you, Sam," she said quietly as she crouched at the side of him.

He shook his head and smiled gently, his eyes dancing, "Its fine, Miss Swan. I like things like this."

"Ok," she replied, glancing at his association list to see words such as Mom, September 12 and forgiveness.

"September 12?" she asked, running her index finger under his cursive writing.

He nodded and breathed deeply. "It was the day my daughter was born," he answered quietly.

"I see," she replied, hiding the surprise in her voice. "And she gives you hope?"

"She's the only hope I have of being a better person." His eyes flashed with a determination that made all the hairs on Isabella's body stand on end.

She decided right then, that she really did like Sam Uley.

Isabella tried to explain this to her mother and her partner Phil at dinner later that night but they just didn't seem to understand at all.

She tried to explain what she felt when Sam had written such words; about the surge of adrenaline, that only a teacher knows when their students show understanding of a subject. But her mother simply scoffed. She tried to hide it from her daughter but Isabella knew her too well. Phil had, as always, thrown her a sympathetic look across the dining table.

Her mother, as much as Isabella loved her and tried to understand her point of view, was still extremely prejudiced about criminals and what should be done with them.

In truth, Renee Swan had nearly had a damn coronary the day that her only child - and only living connection to her late husband - told her that she wanted to work in a prison.

How on earth could she want to be near those animals?

It made no never mind to Renee whether it was drugs or murder; they were all the same to her, all evil and they all deserved just punishment. The thought of Isabella being near them, let alone teaching and helping them terrified her.

Her baby girl thrown to the lions just like her husband.

Did she not understand what could happen to her? Did she not see how dangerous a job it was?

Isabella had tried to reason with her mother, explaining that she would be safe and that, as hard as it was to understand, they weren't the same men that had killed the man they both adored. After her therapy sessions, where she had discussed the same fears, it had surprised Isabella at how easy the words came off her tongue.

Maybe it was going to be easier than she imagined?

No, she wasn't that naive but the feeling of ease that had swept through her when she had seen her students do the work she had set, stayed with her through the tense dinner.

She had left early, knowing she had that same work to read and grade before she had the class, the following morning. Once through her front door, she kicked off her shoes and wandered over to the answer machine that was flashing and pressed play, before making her way into the kitchen and grabbing the bottle of white wine that had been in her fridge chilling perfectly. She was definitely ready for a drink, almost anxiously so.

"Miss Swan, it's Mike here...Mike Newton..."

"No shit," she muttered as she pulled the cork from the bottle with a resounding pop.

"I hope your day went well...apart from the obvious..."

He laughed nervously and Isabella rolled her eyes as she poured her wine into a large glass that Leah had bought her for Christmas.

"Tech have assured me that the problems this morning will not happen again...um...so, I just wanted to give you a heads up that a new inmate will be joining your class tomorrow...um, he's...difficult but I'm sure you'll be just fine. I'll explain in the morning...um, have a good evening. Bye."

Isabella stared at the answer phone and blinked. A new inmate? Difficult? She just knew that the easiness of the first day's class had been a onetime thing. Fucking typical.

"Cheers, Mr. Newton," she muttered sarcastically as she grabbed the papers from her case and sat down cross legged on her sofa, glass of wine still firmly in hand.

"Hey, Bells, it's Jay. I hope today went as you hoped. I was...well, I was thinkin' of ya so...I'm at Maloney's so come for a drink if you want...Victoria's here...If not...I'll speak to you soon. Bye."

She sighed and sipped her drink. She had to give Jamie credit for trying to be supportive. After her small outburst the night before, he had promised that he would be there for her while being as encouraging and understanding as he could be. She knew, as she had fallen asleep on him, that he meant it. She could always rely on him, which was why his lack of faith in her had stung initially. He cared about her and that was fine but she needed him to understand why she was doing what she was doing.

"Hey, Swan! You, me, tomorrow, tennis, me kicking your ass! Sound good? Thought so! Call me!"

She laughed lightly into her glass. Leah, Jamie's sister was a force to be reckoned with, that was for damn sure. She'd been that way all her life, pushing Isabella to take risks and be daring, especially after the death of her father. At first she had resisted, not wanting to do anything but grieve but Leah had pushed relentlessly for her to leave her room and be the child that she was, instead of the adult who tried to get her mother to open up and talk about her loss.

Theirs was a competitive relationship that she loved. Yes, Leah could be hard to take in large doses but her heart, like her brother's, was definitely in the right place. The three of them had travelled through school together, travelled the world together and been there for each other through everything.

It was a comfortable friendship triangle to be a part of, even if Leah had pestered her about putting her brother 'out of his misery.' But that wasn't going to happen any time soon even with the history Isabella and Jamie had. She wasn't ready for that – with anyone. She had to focus on her job and a relationship just wouldn't help her do that.

Besides, Jamie had said Victoria was at the bar with him, maybe they would give it another go?

She pushed those particular thoughts away quickly and placed her glass on the table in front of her, settling herself down to read what her new students had written.

=PoF=

The next morning was better.

The dreams had stayed away for one night – courtesy of the half a bottle of Californian White that Isabella had finished as she read through the pieces of work from her new class. To say that she was stunned by what she had read would have been an understatement. She was enthralled, bewildered and completely ecstatic.

She had asked them to write a couple of paragraphs, or more, if they felt they could, about the words they had chosen during their word association session. Emmett had written enthusiastically about the first car that he boosted and what he felt like when he did it.

His dyslexia was apparent but the fervour with which he wrote was undeniable. He likened his love of cars to sex and drugs - an addiction to quell an overwhelming urge – written in such a passionate way that the subject matter seemed irrelevant. He was funny and fanatical about his machines and it came in streams through his writing.

Sam's was exceptional and had Isabella in tears as she read of his love for his 'girl' and daughter. The hope that the unassuming man had in his heart for his child was borderline inspirational and Isabella couldn't help but think of her father and his hopes for her before he died.

She skipped into the staff room of Arthur Kill and poured herself a coffee, eager to get to the next session with her class.

"You look like you had a good night." Angela's voice penetrated Isabella's morning bubble with a small laugh.

"I did," she answered as she dropped some milk into her cup. "Angela, that work they did was exceptionally good."

Angela smiled knowingly and nodded. "I know. They try so damned hard; especially when they like their tutor."

Isabella flushed slightly, not sure that she had much to do with it considering they had only had one session. They continued to discuss the class, with Emmett and Sam being the most prevalent students throughout the conversation as Isabella explained what they had both written.

"I hope McCarty's not giving you trouble," Mr Newton said firmly, entering their conversation with no introduction which pissed Isabella off more than she expected. He is such a smarmy ass…

"Um, no, actually he's been great. Really responsive and he produced some really great work for me yesterday."

A flash of either annoyance or surprise crossed Mr. Newton's face at Isabella's words but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"That's great," he deadpanned.

Before Isabella could respond with a 'you bet your smarmy ass it is,' he clutched her elbow and manoeuvred her away from Angela to the other side of the room.

"So, your new inmate…" he began, releasing her arm slowly.

"Student," Isabella corrected, crossing her arms over her chest.

Newton eyed her carefully. He couldn't have lost her to the Weber and reform crowd already?

"Yes, well, your new student will be in attendance as soon as your class starts."

Isabella bristled at his sarcasm. He was obviously having a bad morning and she was, for some reason, in the line of fire of it. She took a deep breath and brought out a wide smile.

"That's great," she responded. "What's the student's name?"

"Cullen," he replied quickly, incensed by the smile and watched as Isabella frowned slightly in recognition of the name. She remembered Angela's words about meeting him eventually.

Well, she thought wryly, I guess eventually arrived.

"And is that all the information I get?" She could feel herself getting even more annoyed by his petulant and somewhat aggressive manner.

"His folder is in my office." He ran a hand across his chin and exhaled. He was having a shiteous morning and the folder that belonged to one epic asshole was not on his list of priorities. "I'll...um, I'll get it to you."

"Great," she answered before turning on her heel and walking back to Angela who had been eavesdropping on the entire exchange with amusement.

"Let's go," Isabella said with a smile as she grabbed her coffee and bag and made her way across the staff room towards her class.

=PoF=

All of her students filtered in, just as they had the day before, each one of them chattering and looking decidedly light.

"Good morning, everyone," Isabella smiled as she fixed up her laptop while they took their seats, sighing in relief when the connection worked first time through her interactive board.

"Morning, Miss S," Emmett answered with a huge yawn and a slap of his chest. "And may I say how nice you look today?"

"You may," she answered with a playful warning look.

"You look nice," he responded quickly before giving her a wide closed lip smile.

"Thank you, Emmett," she replied, unable to hide her own grin.

She handed out their previous days work and gave them a couple of minutes to read her comments on them.

"What does 'not entirely appropriate' mean?" Quil asked from his seat at the back of the class.

Isabella grimaced and approached him. "It means, Quil that I don't really want to read about every one of your conquests or the marks you gave them out of ten, including…" She whipped the paper from his desk to find the offending sentence. "The blow job was fucking awesome."

At this Quil barked a huge laugh that echoed around the room while flicking his fingers in joy. He stopped fairly quickly when he realised no-one else found him as funny as he obviously did.

"You're a fucking idiot," Tyler muttered from his seat.

"Fuck you, Crowley," Quil retorted, kicking the back of Tyler's chair.

"Hey," Isabella said as calmly as she could, feeling the panic rise inside her.

"The fuck you say?" Tyler bit back, making to stand from his seat.

"Hey," she repeated louder, the panic engulfing her throat as she held an open palm towards each of the men.

Before Isabella could fathom what the hell was going on, she was standing in the middle of Emmett, Tyler and Quil, all of them shouting obscenities, insults and pointed fingers at each other while Officer Morgan tried to get in between them, with Angela, calling to her to move back.

But she couldn't.

The panic was there, pounding around her head as she tried to breathe and remain calm, remembering the anxiety breathing exercises that he therapist had given her. She closed her eyes, clenched her fists and took in a deep breath.

"HEY!"

Everyone immediately went quiet and looked at her in absolute fucking shock as her yell bounced around the room. Emmett, who was standing at her right side; trying his best to get in front of her to shield her from whatever shit was about to fly, blinked in disbelief.

Well fuck, the small swan has a voice…

The awed silence lasted all of two minutes before the door of the classroom flew open and Mike Newton strode in with a face like thunder.

"What the hell is going on here?" he yelled as he slammed his hands to his hips.

The group surrounding Isabella slowly began to disperse as two officers appeared in the doorway. Isabella took another shaky breath and rubbed her palms down her black trousers. She cleared her throat and turned to her boss with as genuine a smile as she could muster.

"Nothing to worry about, Mr. Newton, just a differing of opinion." She walked towards him slowly, clasping her sweating hands at her stomach.

"As you can see they're all fine now. Aren't you, Quil?" She levelled a look at him that would have turned him to salt, had she had the ability.

He nodded sharply and bit the inside of his mouth before glaring at the back of Tyler's head.

Newton eyed the room carefully. She was good at bullshitting, that he had to admit, but from the sounds that he heard before he entered the room, he knew she was out of her depth and it was only her second day of teaching. He didn't want her to have a hard time and quit but he couldn't stand the thought of her being on 'their' side. She worked for him, not them and the fact that she had called them 'students' and not inmates only forty-eight hours in, had made his teeth clench.

He breathed heavily down his nose and cleared his throat. "Well," he began with a glance at each inmate. "I'd like to bring in your new student." He turned his head back towards the door, "Cullen?"

Cullen had been standing in the corridor with Officer West, grinning and listening to Newton try to assert what piss ass authority he thought he had. He pushed from his place against the wall and wandered into the room, dragging his feet with every step.

The first thing he noticed was Emmett across the room, acknowledging him with a nod and a smirk which he returned arrogantly – seeing as all eyes were on him. He then glanced around quickly, yet nonchalantly at the other guys in the class, trying to discern where he came in the pecking order. He was almost always at the top but he forever made it a point to check first.

In this case, Emmett ruled the roost – just.

He sneered when he took in the other shit poke faces. Tyler could be cocky but he knew his place and Sam was as quiet as a mouse – no problems there. Quil Embry however...he narrowed his eyes at the little fucker and smirked further when he noticed he slumped down into his seat under his gaze. That's right, bitch...

A annoyed feminine cough was what pulled him from his visual tormenting of the little bastard.

He looked from Quil slowly towards the origin of the noise, finding the delectable Miss Swan, arms crossed over her chest, eying him in a way that made his hackles immediately rise and his fists clench. She, like every other fucker not in blue overalls, thought she was better than him. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know it. And she may have hid it well behind her sexy blouse and heels but she was just like them. They were all the same.

He leaned his weight casually onto his right foot and stared right back at her. Bring it, Miss S...

"Cullen, this is Miss Swan. Miss Swan, this is Edward Cullen."

"Just Cullen," he spat, keeping his glare firmly on Isabella. Newton knew better than to use his first name for fuck's sake.

Newton cleared his throat and rolled his eyes in Isabella's direction. "Cullen," he sighed, trying to appease him.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Cullen," Isabella said with a cocked eyebrow.

She had seen the way that he had taken in the other students in her class and she didn't like it. He was obviously an arrogant jerk who saw himself above everyone in her class – including her and she was immediately irritated by it. This was her classroom – not his. Her hostility surprised her but the adrenaline was still pumping through her body after the almost fight and the last thing she needed was a cocky fucker like Cullen adding to it. No matter how good looking he was...

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered back with an obvious eye roll, unable to resist letting his line of sight dance quickly over the delicate curves of Isabella's chest and hips that - he had to admit - were pretty fucking hot.

"Take a seat," she bit back, unable to hold her irritation any longer.

His stare met hers once again as her tone slipped down his already tense back. He narrowed his eyes infinitesimally and Isabella could have sworn that he almost snarled. But she stood firm, keeping grounded, not moving an inch and shit if she didn't look hot as fuck doing it.

Emmett and Newton's eyes locked for a tenth of a second as that very thought shot between them.

It was Angela's voice that broke the strange electric atmosphere of aggression, annoyance and arousal that filled the room.

"Here, Cullen," she said in a soft voice, ideal for defusing highly anxious situations. "Sit here." She motioned towards the seat closest to him.

Cullen, as loath as he was to break his gaze with the hot-bitch teacher, took a deep breath through his nose, making his nostrils flare and moved slowly towards the seat that Angela was offering. His breath seemed to shudder out of him as his green irises dropped from the wide chocolate ones that flickered with fire.

"Well," Newton croaked, slipping his hands in his pockets, not entirely sure what had just occurred. "Any problems...you know where I am."

He gave Isabella a tight-lipped smile that she barely noticed and left the room followed by the two other officers, after they had un-cuffed Cullen. She seemed unable to tear her eyes from the conceited ass sitting in her classroom. He was fine to look at with his messy hair, broad shoulders, two days worth of stubble and long legs that stuck out from underneath the desk but his attitude made him ugly, bitter and sharp around the edges.

She lifted her eyebrows, suddenly realising that she was frowning at him. He didn't notice however as his eyes was firmly locked on the desk in front of him.

He didn't want to look at her; as easy as she was on the eye. He was too fucking angry. And what made him even more fucking mad was that he had no fucking clue why!

She had asked him to sit – so fucking what – but it was the way in which she'd asked him; completely curt, determined and seemingly unafraid of him. That shit just would not fucking do. At. All.

Isabella took a quiet second to compose herself, dropping her stare from Cullen and focusing on the other six people in front of her. She started her computer up with the activity that she wanted them to undertake, explaining it quickly and clearly and within five minutes they had their heads down and were on task. It appeared that the altercation had been forgotten or had, at the very least, made everyone calmer.

She walked with purpose towards Cullen's desk and placed an A4 book in front of him. He never moved or looked up to acknowledge her request for him to place his name on the front of it, even if the rest of his body was achingly aware of her presence in front of him.

"Cullen," she said again, feeling her annoyance creep up her spine as her patience dwindled into her stomach. "Could you please write your name on the front of this booklet?"

She noticed the corners of his mouth twitch slightly. Oh no, asshole...

"Is something funny?" she asked through clenched teeth, unable to control the rage that was boiling with no rhyme or reason deep inside her.

His eyes snapped to hers, bright green and furious but he never said a word.

She pulled a pen from the pocket of her pants and held it out for him. "Is this what you need?"

She could have sworn that his eyes softened slightly around the pupils but it was a change so minute that she shook the thought away immediately. He raised his hand slowly and took the pen from her, allowing the tip of his finger to catch the side of her knuckle as he did. His smirk became a knowing smile as he clicked the pen and wrote his name as she had asked.

Not entirely immune, he congratulated himself as he noticed the sharp dip of her chest as she breathed quickly. She felt it.

Isabella felt the contact – holy fuck did she feel the contact – but she tried her hardest to hide it. She tried to hide the burning jolt of heat that shot from the tip of her finger deep into the pit of her stomach and she was convinced she hid the gasp of air that she took and remained upright; a feat she was insanely proud of.

What the fuck was that?

She watched as he wrote his desired name across the top of the booklet, throwing the pen down and sighing heavily and sarcastically as he sat back in his seat. He looked like he owned the place and Isabella had no doubt in her mind that the man in front of her thought exactly that.

There was a dangerous wall around him that screamed no entry and as she continued taking in the new addition to her class she realised, she didn't give a shit.

"I know you are slightly behind having just joined us today but I'm sure you'll catch up no problem." She tried to speak civilly but the words sounded so wrong in her head. They sounded false and insincere and she knew that, in the place she was, that was a risky combination.

Cullen looked up at her, his face belying any emotion or thought about what she had just said, so she continued regardless, explaining the word association task that the class had done twenty-four hours before.

"So, you can start with that," she muttered while running a hand through her hair which, Cullen noted, was a combination of several shades of brunette. "Write a word that means something to you and then all the words that associate with that."

Still nothing.

She bit her tongue and placed her hands on her hips.

"Once you do that you can write about why that word is important to you."

She saw him sneer and sit back even further in his seat.

"I'm sorry," she fumed. "Is there a problem?"

He looked up at her, his face strong, sculpted, beautiful and terrifying.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked in a quiet monotone voice that sent chills down her back.

She blinked at him in response. "No," she answered defiantly. "Why?"

He snorted and ran a hand through his own hair. "It's a little bit…basic…wouldn't you say, Miss Swan?"

She felt her jaw tighten at his words, cursing Mike Newton for not giving her Cullen's folder to look over. Even so, no matter how intelligent he assumed himself to be, his entire attitude made her want to rip the smug ass smile off of his pretty little face.

"Well, Cullen," she sighed in response. "All roads to every answer start with the basics."

"Nice," he retorted while raising his eyebrows in a way that Isabella could only determine as patronizing as shit. "Read that little gem in a fortune cookie, did ya?"

She slammed her hands down on the desk in front of him and glared as hard as she could. There was no way the little bastard was going to make a mockery out of her father's philosophies.

"No, I didn't," she hissed in return. "So, shut your mouth and do what I ask. Otherwise," she nodded towards the exit. "There's the door. Don't let it hit you on your smart ass as you leave."

Well, fuck me…

Cullen sat for all of five seconds wondering who the fuck Miss Swan thought she was talking to and why the fuck his cock was hard as rock, before he sat up straight in his chair, leaning closer to her, feeling her hot breath on his cheek.

He was gleefully aware of the fact that she jumped slightly at his quick movement, but was equally dumbstruck by the huge wave of lust that crashed over him as he stared at her wide, enraged eyes and open mouth that moved slowly but determinedly with every breath that left her.

What he could do to silence those plump, pink, self righteous lips…fuck…

"Watch your fucking mouth," he seethed through clenched teeth, undeniably aware that the guard behind her had shifted towards them.

"No, Cullen," she replied as her stare burned into his. "You watch yours. This is my class, not yours so do what I ask or leave. The choice is yours."

Before Cullen could retort, or even drag his traitor eyes from her tits, she had walked away from him towards Emmett who had been watching the entire pissing contest with rapture. He never, for one moment, thought that Miss Swan had that lioness inside her and damn if she hadn't picked the most volatile fucker in the room to test herself on.

He watched as Cullen's mouth opened and closed a few times behind Miss Swan, his face a picture of complete and utter shock before he blew a quick, irate breath out of his mouth and slumped back in his seat.

That shit also had to be a first. Had he been a betting man – and in the past he had most definitely dabbled – Emmett would have had Cullen storming out of the room in record time, or at least ripping some shit up.

But no – he was still there and all the furniture in the room was still as it was when he entered.

Had Cullen met his match in the little swan before him?

He sniggered into the back of his hand in disbelief.

Isabella ignored Cullen for the next fifty minutes as best as she could - which he was more than happy about -glancing at him occasionally to see him sitting like King Punk every time that she did. She hadn't seen him even attempt to do what she asked but a part of her was somewhat satisfied that he hadn't actually left.

She had no idea where her bravery – or stupidity – had come from. Maybe it was the way Newton had addressed her earlier or she was still feeding off of the anger that had crashed between Quil and Tyler.

She had no idea; the only thing she did know was that there was something about Cullen that set her on edge. If she wasn't feeling so fucking angry she might have enjoyed the feelings of adrenaline and…life that was flooding her veins.

She spoke to each of her students about their work and was just finishing off her closing plenary as the officers came to collect their inmates. It had been a long fucking hour and Isabella couldn't help but notice the ripple of relief that moved through her.

"Laters, Miss S," Emmett chimed as he followed Tyler out of the door followed by a tall bronze haired asshole who pushed past her and everyone else with no regard whatsoever.

"Yeah, see you later," she answered, feeling her fists clench at her sides as she watched the retreating figure of Cullen disappear down the corridor. She fumed inwardly as the white hot heat, from his arm brushing against hers, smouldered up towards her neck and shoulder.

The door shut behind them all, leaving her and Angela alone. Isabella sank back against her desk and exhaled heavily, dropping her chin to her chest, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Are you ok?" Angela asked as she collected her notes and approached her. She didn't know what else to say after seeing the small brunette take on, not only a potential fight but Edward Cullen to boot.

Isabella laughed sarcastically and rubbed her face with her palms. "Yeah," she answered. "I'm fine."

Angela moved closer and reached a hand to her shoulder. "You did good," she praised, "Real good. He tested you and you passed."

Isabella smiled and winced all at the same time. "He's an asshole."

"No doubt," Angela replied with a small snort. "But it's his thing. You were great."

"Thank you," Isabella responded, not really believing what she was being told.

"No problem. See you tomorrow?" Angela thought it best to say it as a question – just to be sure.

Isabella looked at her, determination prevalent in her large eyes. "Yes, you will," she answered. She wasn't going to let some punk ass, know-it-all stop her from doing what she had to.

"Great," Angela replied, exhaling in relief. She couldn't give up so early. She could see the resolve in the woman before her and no matter what was driving it she knew that Isabella Swan could be a fucking amazing tutor at the facility.

"Have a good rest of the day," she offered before she left the room and Isabella to her thoughts.

Isabella glanced around the room for a couple of minutes, rubbing her arm gingerly over the spot that was still tingling, contemplating the events of what was surely the longest hour of her life, before she began collecting the A4 booklets of her students. She placed the pile down on the front table along with their pens before looking reluctantly at the last booklet that was placed on the desk in the font row where Cullen had sat.

She sighed as she stared at it, gnawing on her bottom lip in frustration. What the hell was it about Cullen that had her so fucking wired? Why had she snapped that way? Quil was an asshole and she hadn't behaved that way with him.

This wasn't her…she had acted stupidly, dangerously but Cullen had immediately made her so…tense…hot…alive…

After an age of internal chastising and debate, she approached the booklet as a soldier would an un-detonated bomb and cautiously turned it around opening up to the first page. Her eyes widened and her breath caught as she read the word that meant so much to the man that had conjured so much from her in such a short space of time.

With four letters, she knew that there was a lot more to Cullen than the punk ass fucker who had stoked so aggressively at the fire within her.

The four letters simply spelled – debt.

Holy PunkAssward has a dirty mouth, Batman!

So our two kids have met – will he come back? Will Isabella bust him in his smart ass mouth?

Tune in next week.

Leave me love.

TTFN xxx