I know that this isn't one of the stories I promised to write, but this is one that I've had floating around my brain. Don't worry, I'm not going to take any attention away from my other stories, and I can tell you that the next chapter of Alive Again is working itself out. This one has been hard to write, because it's so emotional, and it got a bit overwhelming, so I took a break and this started to write itself. I thought it was okay, so I decided to post it. Let me know what you think.

This is a little outside what I've done before and there is a lot of foul-language, violence and anything else you can think of, probably going to present itself in this story. If you're not into anything like that, then don't read.

It's an M for a reason.


Nine hundred and twelve days, thirteen and a half hours, give or take half an hour or so.

Not that I'm fucking counting or anything.

Roughly counting, that's two and a half fucking years.

Two and a half fucking years I've been behind bars for something I didn't do.

Two and a half years protesting my fucking innocence and no one believing a fucking word I have to say. Why does no one fucking listen?!

If they did, then they'd have the fucker that deserved to be in here. Not even I knew who it was. And that just proved to bring me even more bullshit than before.

Because of what happened two and a half years ago, I'm stuck in his shithole, for the next decade or so, and there's not jackshit anyone can do about it. The fact that my family don't even want piss-all to do with me, because they too think I'm guilty, doesn't help my case any.

They were what, half a shitting hour away. If that, and they hadn't come to see me the whole time I was here. Well, that was a lie. My twin sister Alice had come to see me a couple of times, but my parents didn't like her coming to see me, when she was younger, so they had put some sort of fucking ultimatum on her. Either she didn't see me, or she would be excluded from the family. Just as I was. Never mind that I was fucking innocent.

She didn't really listen to them, but her visits became even less frequent than they had before. I knew it wasn't because she didn't care, but she needed the support of the family. She couldn't do without it. She was attending college and had told me that as soon as she was done with it, not needing to rely on our parents anymore, she was going to set them straight. Tell them how she had been coming to see me, and that there was no way they would be able to stop her from doing so.

Whether or not, she'll do that, I have no fucking clue, but what the hell, I can always hope that I'll have my twin on side.

Suddenly, the ugly green door to the tiny, plain grey segregation cell I was in was unlocked and swung open.

"Come on, Cullen." The P.O. letting me back on the main wing said forcefully. I rolled my eyes and stood up, walking out of the cell, following the screw back to the wing. "You know, if you could just keep yourself out of fights then you wouldn't end up in here so much."

"Whatever." I mumbled, not really caring about what the fucker in front of me wanted. "Got nothing else to do, do I?"

He didn't answer, but gave me a tired look that told me he didn't want to hear it. Like I gave a fuck what he wanted. He chose to be in here, day after fucking day. And he was getting paid for it. If he didn't want to be looking after fuck-ups like me then he shouldn't have become a bloody prison officer then should he? Nope!

Besides, winning any kind of fight, contest or whatever in here proves that you're on top.

Even though I didn't deserve to be in here, it didn't mean that I was wasting my time in here. I was the top dog in here and it was going to stay that way. I had no intention of letting that title get away from me. There have been many who've tried over the two years I've been in this shithole. This last spell on the block was the result of the latest challenger. Well, actually, he was kind of an ongoing challenger. He'd been here a month and thought that because he was here, he was in charge. Sorry, fucker! This is my wing. And. I. Don't. Share. He was worse off. He was in the infirmary. Or at least he was last time I heard.

I followed the screw through the desolate and dismal corridors that led onto the wing. The corridors were lined with posters that were supposed to be carrying 'inspiring messages'. It all sounded like conspiracy bullshit to me. There was one, glaring at me as I waited for the officer to open the barred gate that would lead us down the next identical corridor. 'You can make it on your own!' What a load of bullshit that was. Even the most successful people in the world needed help off someone. Whether it be a bank, or a friend or whatever. Nobody has really got anywhere without enlisting the help of someone at some point or another.

Call me a 'glass is half empty' pessimistic, condescending type of guy, but that's just the way my mind works. The motto 'Life's a bitch and then you die.' Springs to mind whenever I walk through these dingy, dank corridors. I swear the aspestos should have killed most of us by now. Either that or the food should have.

"Lunch has just started. Try not to start a fight, Cullen." He smirked as he walked off to the screws office, locking the barred door behind him. It wasn't an 'I've just got one up on you' smirk, it was more of a 'please do and then we can get rid of you for another week' smirk. The screws hated me because I undermined their authority and the inmates on the wing paid more attention to what I said and thought than that of the screws. It was quite amusing actually, watching the screws stew over to handle the wing, when no one even listens to them anyway.

"God, I hate this fucking place." I mumbled to myself, walking over to the line forming over at the tiny whole in the wall that offered the crap this place called fucking food. It was a wonder that none of us had died from starvation or fucking food poisoning yet.

"Back off the block, are we, Eddie?" Came the voice of the only bastard in this place I could trust. The only one I knew wasn't going to fuck me over.

"Shut the fuck up, Jasper." I mumbled as he walked up behind me. Just because he was pretty much my 'second in command' as it were, didn't mean I didn't insult him. He gave as good as he got.

"Sorry, you moody fucker." He mumbled back. See what I mean? Gives as good as he gets.

"Basic bloody rations for a week, Jazz." I shot back, grabbing the plate that had been filled for me, before sitting down at the table Jasper and I always sat at. Everyone knew not to sit there. It just wasn't done. Even the dumb fucks in this shithole were smarter than that. "You work it out."

"You know, if you kept yourself out of trouble, you wouldn't get sent down the block so much." Jasper laughed and I smirked at him, taking a gulp of water from the crappy plastic mug they gave, wishing like fuck it was something stronger.

"Now where's the fun in that?" I smirked and he shook his head, laughing.

"You know, looking at you, you wouldn't think that you didn't deserve to be in here." He said, his tone serious. He was one of the only ones in here that believed my story. That I wasn't meant to be in here. But then again, who was I to care? It kept me on top, where I wanted to be.

"Yeah, well." I mumbled, taking a bite of the crappy sandwich they were passing off as lunch. I swear, if the food in this place got any worse, we'd be eating cardboard. Actually, I think the cardboard was more nutritional than this shit. "If they were going to listen to me, then they would have done at my pissing trial, wouldn't they?"

"That's some true shit." He mumbled. "Maybe at your appeal?"

I hummed in response, taking a bite of a very questionable looking sandwich. It was better than what I'd been living off for the past week. Marginally. So I wasn't going to complain. I just wished they'd employ someone who could actually cook. But then again, why let the prison population have a decent supply of food?

"Well, lookie who's back off the block." A sing-song voice called as someone walked up behind me. Someone who was obviously feeling very cocky and sure of himself. Someone who obviously needed knocking back down to size. Again.

I rolled my eyes at the voice as Jasper smirked and stood up slowly, turning to face the person standing behind me. "Well, lookie who's back from the infirmary." I taunted back, in the same tone that he'd used. "What do you want, James? We've already played this game, and if I remember… you lost." I sighed dramatically, which the others knew was a bad sign. James was a newbie though, determined to make his mark on the wing. "Now, why don't you … stop this pathetic little attempt at being the big man, and run back to your cell with your tail between your pissing legs."

"You think you're the big man, don't you, Cullen?" He hissed, his voice shaking slightly. I might not be resposible for what I was in here for, but hell, I knew how to use my fists when I needed to.

I heard and saw people swivelling in chairs to see what was going on between the two of us. I could see from behind Daniels that people were smirking and watching on with interest. They always found stand-offs like this amusing and interesting. The fact that Daniels, who was almost a head shorter than me, lanky and pathetic, was volleying for top dog was more than amusing. Even to me. Even though he had no chance of knocking me off of my top spot, he was seriously pissing me off. He was like a little terrier that wouldn't go away.

"No." I shook my head. "I know I am. I'm top dog and the sooner you get that into your tiny little skull, the better it'll be for you." I smirked, stepping closer to him. "You see, I'm in here for the long haul. It doesn't matter to me how many times I get sent down the block. But I don't think you'll be wanting to spend most of your time banged up in the infirmary will ya', Daniels?"

"They'll just ship you out." He said, a smile appearing on his face. He thought that if he kept this up, I'd just, what, step aside? Not a chance in friggin' hell.

"No, they won't." I smirked, knowing that the only way I'd be getting out of here would be if I put in for a transfer and it was accepted. That wasn't likely to happen, so it seemed I was here for the remainder of my sentence. However the fuck long that may be. "Because you see, each fuck-up prison in this country wants to show how tough it is. And by doing so, it keeps all the complete fuck-ups like me on, just to show that they can handle us. If anyone gets shipped out, Daniels, it'll be you. Because they'll be worried for your safety." I tilted my head in a condescending way. "Poor widdle thing." I smirked when I saw the look of fear flash through his eyes. He knew what my fists could do, and he didn't want to chance it again. Good boy. I thought, smirking. He wouldn't challenge me to a physical fight again. Not too soon anyway.

"Cullen!" I rolled my eyes at the fucking screws, all standing by their office door, ready to break up the fight that hadn't started yet. "Daniels!"

One of the screws on duty this time of day walked over to us, pushing us apart. He pushed Daniels away from me, standing in between us.

"Just can't help throwing your weight around, can you, Cullen?" He moaned, watching me for any 'unfriendly behaviour' that could and probably would get me sent back down the block.

"Nope." I replied, popping the "p" as I sat back down, facing a smirking Jasper.

"The new psych's gonna have a fucking field day with you, dude." Jasper laughed as he finished his food.

"'New' psych?" I asked, feeling my brow furrowing in confusion. We have a psych in this fucked-up excuse for a priso?. "We have a psych in the first place?"

"Apparently so." He shrugged. "Apparently, they've employed a psych for every wing. I've not spoken to her yet. Apparently she's going through the 'established hierarchy' as they call it. You know, the pecking order."

"That'll be a fucking laugh." I snorted as we stood up and headed over to dump our trays before heading up to my cell.

"Yeah." He chuckled as we made our way up the stairs. "Hell, she'll need a whole fucking week just to deal with you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, feigning insult. I knew he was only pissing about, but that's beside the point.

"Well, apparently, she's asking a lot about you." He told me, his tone trying to prove that he was the fruit of all knowledge whilst I'd been on seg.

"Shit." I mumbled, not really caring, as I flopped down on my bed. "Like what?"

Jasper sat on the end of my bed. When there was nothing to do, we spent most of our time in my cell. Seeing as I was a lifer, I had my own cell, seeing as I could be seen as a danger to others. Right! I was only a danger to others when they fucked me about or messed with my shit.

"I don't know." He shrugged, folding his hands behind his head and leaning on the wall behind him.

"Come on, Hale." I kicked him gently and he scowled at me for using his last name. He knew that I only did it to wind him up, but he also knew that I only used the last name for people I hated or was really pissed off with at the time. "You gotta know something."

"Well, what I do know is that if she's following the right pecking order, then you'll be the last one she sees." He smirked at me. "She spoke to Daniels last week." I couldn't help but laugh. "If she's going through the pecking order then she sees that even with all of his nipping at your heels, he's still way down there in the grand scheme of things."

"In here at least." I chuckled and Jasper smirked at me.

At that point the door opened and the fucking screw from earlier poked his head in, nudging his finger out the door. "Lock up. Out Hale."

"Well." Jasper said sitting up. "I do know that she's been here since the day you got sent down the block and she's already made her way through most of the fuckers on this wing. Looks like we're up soon."

"Right." I rolled my eyes.

"Out, Hale!" The screw was getting pissed now and he stared at me menacingly as Jazz made his way out of my cell as if it was my fault he was stuck in this punk-ass job.

I tilted my head at him in mock confusion. "Problem, sir?" I emphasised the 'sir', letting him know that I was being condescending and patronising. He was new, so there was no point in letting him off easy. It was best for him to know early on who it was who really ran this wing. And let me tell you.

It's not the fucking screws that's for sure.

He gave me a condescending look and slammed the door shut. I rolled my eyes and flopped back down on my bed, reaching over and picking up the latest book I'd scammed from the library. Not a lot of people inside read, or at least that I've found. I must have been one of the only ones that actually used the library for its intended purpose. Everyone else just used it as a way of either communicating with the other wings or transporting something in or out of the prison, using the Interlibrary loans shit.

Not that I gave a fuck. It's not like anything I did in here could come back to me. Nothing in here ever came back to me.

I'd gotten about half way through the book when the door was swung open again.

"Up, Cullen!" One of the older screws, Norton, ordered. She was still pissed at me for the fight between Daniels and I. She was the one that put faith in me that I would be able to keep myself off the block for at least a decent amount of time. The fact that I hadn't increased her disappointment in me. "Work."

"Hello, to you too." I rolled my eyes scarcastically, pulling on my chucks. I stood up and walked past her, throwing her a smile as I did so. It was a smile that told her I knew that she was pissed and I didn't give a fuck. Hey, I'm stuck in here, they're here by choice. Why make it easy for them?

I made my way out to the garden, raising my arms out, ready for searching.

"Hey, watch the hands." I mumbled as they made their way down my legs. I don't know why they searched you on the way out. There's not really anything you can smuggle out. Smuggling in was the way you have to watch out for. It's ridiculous.

The last time someone managed to smuggle something in, a screw got stabbed with a bit of garden pole, so I guess that might be the reason behind the 'stick-up-your-arse' excuse for security.

They, as usual, found nothing on me, as if I'd be that stupid, and let me through.

"Oi oi, Cullen!" Another prisoner, Jacob Black called, jogging over to me.

"Alright, Jake!" Personally, I was surprised he was on garden duty. But then again, I guess they don't want him anywhere near anything flammable. Being in for arson will get you those restrictions. I guess, they thought that he would be better with the shears and pointy sticks over the thinks that make fire.

Odd sense of logic, but then again when you're a screw, I guess the whole world is topsy-turvy.

"Saw your little show at lunch earlier." He grinned. He hated Daniels almost as much as I did. And, like me, he made so secret about it. Jacob, like Jasper, was behind me. He was kind of my 'third in command' as it were. And I knew it wasn't because of all the 'privileges' that came with being in the 'top dog's inner circle' as the other inmates had dubbed it, it was because he really hated the guy I'd bumped off the top dog spot.

Jake had been in here for a while. I'm not sure how long, but he would have been out by now, that is if he'd been on his best behaviour – which he clearly wasn't – and if the house he torched hadn't had an old man inside. In his defense, he didn't know the old man was in there. He'd just thought that he house looked like fun to torch. Whatever the fuck goes on in his screwed up mind, I'll never know. Anyway, he's in here for a good few years yet. Not that you'd know. By his energy and enthusiasm about everything, you'd think he was a newbie. As annoying as his upbeatness … upbeatedness … whatever! His happy moods, okay! As annoying as they are, he's been a good mate in here. And lord knows, you need them whilst in this shithole.

"I think everyone saw that." I smirked, knowing that Daniels would be getting it for ' attempting to provoke me into a reaction'. Something he'd been told time and time again over the short amount of time that he'd been in here. You'd think that he'd understand by now. But no…that little shite just won't quit.

"That your plan?" He asked as we grabbed the tools we needed from the shed at the end of the small garden that belonged to our wing. We set the tools, leaning against the side of the shed and shrugged on the heavy duty jackets they expected us to wear when out here. Why, I don't know, nor do I give a flying fuck usually, but it's the middle of June for christs' sake. It's fucking boiling. Maybe that's why they want us to wear them. So we die of heatstroke. Wouldn't bloody well surprise me.

"I didn't want to start anything." I defended myself, albeit, not in a very convincing way. Truth is, going several rounds with Daniels was amusing and it distracted me for a little while each time.

"Yeah, right." He scoffed and I scowled at him. He knew that it wasn't serious though. If it had been serious, I would have glared at him and he would have shut up instantly. On the contrary, he continued to laugh. "You wanted a showdown with him as much as he wanted it."

"Maybe so." I shrugged. "Oh, and Jake. Nobody calls it a showdown. Not unless you're in some fucked up western."

He shrugged, grinning at me. "So, you met with the new psych yet?"

I shook my head as we walked. "Jazz mentioned something about her earlier." I shrugged. "Not met her yet though. Have you?"

"Yeah, this morning, while you were still on the block." He nodded as he started shovelling the shit we were expected to move.


"She's cute." He shrugged. "If you like that sort of thing." He looked up at me and grinned.

I rolled my eyes at him, smirking. "Well, Jake, newsflash, but most of us in here do like that sort of thing. It's just you that doesn't."

"That may be true, but you know what?" I looked up at him and saw him grinning. "I don't give a tiny rat's ass."

"Thought that would be your answer." I smirked, getting back to shovelling shit, as we were expected to do. "Always is."

"She asked about you, you know?" He said, looking up and obviously trying to judge my reaction.

"Jasper said the same thing." I stuck the blade of the shovel in my hand into the ground, leaning on it. "I wonder what the hell's going on. He said that she'd been asking people about me."

"Maybe she wants to know what she's getting herself into before she meets the big bad." He sniggered and I shook my head laughing.

"Maybe." I looked out over the others working in the garden with us. "She's still gonna get a fucking surprise though."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." Jacob chuckled, his gazr following mine.

"Cullen!" Someone shouted my name and I rolled my eyes at Jacob, who was still grinning like a maniac. Well, despite the fact that to most he is a maniac, but still, that's not the point. I turned around to see Norton, my personal officer – bully for me, right? – standing there motioning me towards her. I looked at Jacob and shrugged, indicating that he didn't know what I'd done as much as I did.

I propped the shovel that I'd been using up against a fence and walked over to her.

"Come on." She motioned for me to follow her, turning around. I looked at Jacob, who was watching on with curiosity and amusement. He shrugged and I followed her out of the garden, taking off the sodding jacket and handing it to one of the guards on duty. They searched me again on the way in and I was met on the other side of the gate by Norton. She could obviously see my curious expression as I approached because she gave me a grin. "New psych wants to see you."

"Whoopie." I muttered without enthusiasm and much sarcasm.

"Come on, Cullen." She rolled her eyes at me. "Show a bit more enthusiasm."

"Why?" I asked, disdain lacing my tone. "All it is is someone trying to ascertain certain answers by asking a load of questions that lead to nothing except sincere bollocks."

"You know, that would have been a very intelligent sentence, if it weren't for the bollocks on the end." She smirked back at me and I rolled my eyes again. I seemed to be doing that a lot today. Must be some sort of quota they want me to fill seeing as I'd been on seg for the past week.

"What can I say? Some of the most profound sayings come from complete bullshit." I countered and she snorted a laugh. Yup, she snorted. How very fucking lady-like. Then again, working in a prison like she does, she can't really be expected to be all dainty and breakable, can she? No, Norton can hold her own in a fight. Which is most likely why she's my personal officer as opposed to anyone else's. Considering the circumstances.

"That may be so, but still, curb the language a little while you're in there. She's new to the whole prison scene." She looked me up and down in a condescending way. "Why she wants to see you, I have no idea."

"What? Beyond help, am I?"

"Too bloody right." She chuckled, taking out her keys as we walked back into the main building.

I followed her down the drab and dingy corridors that branched off to each wing. I noticed that we weren't going back onto the wing I was placed on, but in the direction of the visiting rooms.

"She didn't want to be disturbed when she was talking to any of you lot." Norton explained, somehow sensing my slight confusion,

"Has she spoken to everyone then?" I asked, stopping behind her as she unlocked one of the many doors we would have to pass through to get to where we were going.

"Everyone except you." She looked back at me, smirking. "She's made her way through the whole wing, starting with the terrified little newbies all the way, to the top dog." She looked me up and down again, this time with a slight look of admiration in her eyes. "I think she'll need someone in with her though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, feiging hurt.

"With the others, the guards' waited outside because they know that, well, they hope that she'll be alright. But knowing you and your temper." She looked back at me, smirking, but her eyes were filled with disappointment. I knew why. Each time I fucked up, or fucked someone else up and landed myself down the block, it reflected badly on her. Like I gave a shit. "She'll have to have someone in there with her. Make sure she's safe."

"I don't hit women." I grumbled behind her.

"Tell that to your fiancee." She shot back quietly and I wondered if she meant for me to hear that. I gritted my teeth. "I forgot. We don't have a medium on call, do we?"

"Well, let's put it this way, if I did I would have shown you my real feelings about you long ago." I sneered, my teeth still gritted. She had to bring up the whole Tanya thing, didn't she?

"Like to see you try." She mumbled, looking back at me.

"Would you?" I raised my eyebrows at her and she looked me up and down again. "I mean, if you had a dick, I wouldn't have a problem with showing you, but my mama raised me right." I mimicked Jasper's southern drawl at the last part. "I've never laid a hand on a woman, and that includes Tanya."

"Well, the evidence shows otherwise, doesn't it?" I could hear the condescending smirk in her tone as we walked and I stopped.

"Are you trying to piss me off?" I asked, wondering why she was being such a bitch today. Normally, Norton was one of the more manageable screws. One of the easiest to get along with. She may be a screw, but there was something about her that you could just get along with.

"Move it, Cullen!" A masculine voice said from behind me, whilst someone, probably the owner of the voice, gave me a shove from behind. "Get it going."

"Alright, alright. Keep your fucking panties on, will ya?" I mumbled as I started walking after Norton again, who this time, had stopped outside a door and was holding it open for me.

I rolled my eyes and walked into the room, glancing around.

I saw that there was a single table in the room. This must be one of the individual visiting rooms, used for when family or friends of inmates want a more private chat. On the table was a tape recorder, a large pad of paper and a few pens and pencils. I looked around and saw who must be the psych that everyone was talking about, standing, staring out of one of the dirt-encrusted windows that don't allow you to see a foot in front of your own flippin' nose.

"Miss Swan." Norton called quietly and the woman at the window turned around.

She was pretty. Actually, that's a lie. She was fucking beautiful.

She was tiny, probably between five foot four and five foot seven-ish, if my guess is correct, taking out the monstrous heels that I could see she was wearing. Those things must be killing her feet. Why women put themselves through such shit just to look different, I had no idea. Bloody pointless if you ask me. She had pale skin, clear, like porcelain, that was stretched over a heart shaped face and tiny button nose. What the fuck?! 'Tiny button nose'. Get a grip, Cullen!

Her lips were slightly out of proportion, the top slightly larger than it should have been, but instead of making them unattractive, it made them seem even more irresistable. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to see if they were as soft on my lips as they looked. I hadn't even felt that way about Tanya, and that freaked me out.

Above all else, it was her eyes that encaptured my attention more than anything else. They were a deep chocolate brown with more depth to them than I had ever seen before. Normally, brown eyes were flat and lifeless, but the eyes belonging to this woman were so deep and entrancing, it was like I was falling into an unknown place. Somewhere I could spend most of, if not all of, my time and not get bored or irritated. They were eyes that held many secrets. Secrets that I was just itching to uncover.

She walked towards me, a small smile appearing on her lips as she took in my appearance. Either she liked what she saw or she was happy to finally be meeting the top dog she had been asking about.

"Edward Cullen, I presume." Her voice was slightly deeper than I would have thought looking at her. It was deep and slightly husky, but I found it suited her perfectly. She stopped in front of me, holding out her hand. "Isabella Swan, but like everyone else, you can call me Bella."

I looked down at her hand and back up at her, not taking it. Giving her a bored look.

She put her hand down, sighing, obviously seeing that I didn't want to be here. Well, I didn't want to be in this situation. Being anywhere with her wasn't the issue. Personally, I'd like to forego the 'therapy session' or whatever the fuck this was, and strip her completely. Thank fuck I've got such great control or I'd be standing at attention right now. That could be a tad embarrassing.

"You can leave us now, thank you." She said, glancing over my shoulder before looking back at me as I sat down in the chair across from the one she obviously occupied.

"I don't think so, Miss Swan." Norton argued and I rolled my eyes.

"Why ever not?" She asked, clearly confused. "I've had all the other inmates in here and they've been perfectly fine."

"Well, Cullen, here is not like the other inmates." Norton explained, or at least thought she was explaining. "He's got a very quick temper and will more than likely use his fists than his tongue."

If only she knew what I had been imagining doing with my tongue for the last few minutes. I thought, my eyes glued to this 'Miss Swan' standing in front of me.

"From what I've heard, Mr. Cullen, here is very articulate." She argued, and I furrowed my eyebrows at her. Well, she wasn't going to be experiencing that now. I'd found that the best way to get a shrink off your back is not to say a word. They think you're either profoundly stupid, or being difficult and either way, they give up pretty quickly. Having seen a fair few after … what happened … I know this and I know how to get around them.

"Well, we don't want to take that chance." Norton argued again and I rolled my eyes again.

"I know that you feel like I am most likely in some form of danger, but I assure you, I don't believe that and I believe that I will be fine. If I need you, I will shout, but I feel, as with the others, you should wait outside." She finished and I smirked when Norton didn't give an argument. I could imagine her standing there opening and closing her mouth like a demented fish.

"Alright." She sighed angrily. Probably not with this 'Miss Swan' but because of the fact that she hadn't won the argument.

Sucks to be you. I thought as she closed the door behind her, grumbling to herself. It sounded something like 'bloody shrinks and their mind games'. From what I had gotten from the short conversation/argument/disagreement, whatever you want to call it, no mind games had been played. Only an opinion given and a promise made. Not a mind game in sight … or sound … whatever.

"Right." She sighed, sitting down in front of me as I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. "Now that she's gone, let's begin, shall we?" She smiled at me and I returned it with a smirk.

Yes. I thought, amused. Lets.

What do you think?

Hit? Miss?

Love? Hate?

Let me know.