I do not own Twilight: I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which
is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do
not use without my permission.

True Love Way is fictional; if you are easily offended by young love, angst or soul
mates then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any
resemblance to true life is coincidence only. (Don't expect lots of idle words or futile
descriptions. Expect love; expect hurt and struggle and utter surrender. Expect it in
500 words or less)

A True Love Way Outtake

Tsunami Relief

Edward…

"Sit down right there, Boy," Chief Swan says to the very suspecting boy. He knows the
drill by now… the boy, I mean, not Chief Swan. Although, he's been giving this drill for
two generations now.

He invented the drill.

"Yeah, Boy. Sit the fuck down." I've always thought he was too soft.

My drill is better.

My father-in-law quickly aims his own Edward version of the 'Boy' look at me, but it has
zero effect anymore. I am a grown man, with my own family and a good rock steady job.
We even have a dog, Martindale.

How picture perfect is a name like, Martindale? Pretty perfect.

I'm the one giving 'Boy' looks now because my baby, my pretty-pretty princess, Layla,
she brought this boy over, Conner. How picture perfect is a name like, Conner? Pretty
fucking perfect with this neatly brushed hair and ironed shirt. He fucked up with the hole
in his jeans though. He isn't as slick as he thinks he is. He isn't slick like I was. But when
Bella leans over the back of the couch, dark curly hair dangling between her dad and me,
she tells me she's going to start dinner. She tells me to be nice because this is important to
our daughter.

"Remember her? Layla, your only child," Bella whispers smoothly… compassionately.
"She has fragile feelings." Bella tickles the back of my neck with her warm fingers.
"Delicate, brittle feelings and if you are mean to her friend she will make you pay."

"How could I forget?" I smile a small smile.

Daughters grow up so fast; Layla is already fifteen. Fifteen and she is giving her old man
a heart attack with this boy, Conner. She tells me that she needs him using the utmost
passion a fifteen year old can deliver. Apparently, he's her best friend. Apparently, he
keeps her whole. Apparently, they want to go to some kind of school dance together.

Apparently, this boy wants my foot up his ass.

Apparently, my daughter, Layla, has me wrapped around her tiny little multicolored
painted fingernail fingers.

"Besides," Bella says lightly, quietly so only I can hear. "He smells like puppies; leave
him alone." Bella presses her lips onto my neck and makes her exit.

She did that on purpose. She always causes me to feel sorry for the boy. Bella says
Conner reminds her of me at that age… Chief Swan agrees, but he says my intentions
we're worse.

If he only knew.

I sit up in my seat, leaning towards the boy. Chief Swan follows my movements, adding
in a grunt for effect.

"Are you trying to get fresh with my daughter, Boy?" I ask, voice thick with anger. Eyes
squinted.

Bella wanted sex at fourteen. At fifteen, I was still evading and out-maneuvering her
sneaky advances. Kids these days, they're not as smart as Bella and I were at their age.
Layla's depression isn't as unstable as Bella's, but I wouldn't put it past this little
motherfucker to take advantage of her when she is vulnerable. This Boy, Conner, he isn't
anything like I was. I knew how to handle Bella. What the fuck does he know?

"What!" Conner yelps, turning twelve shades past red.

My father-in-law and I both raise an eyebrow at Conner because of his loud outburst.
Bella giggles from inside the kitchen.

I'm silently praying that Layla didn't hear him. If she did, this is all over.

"I… I mean. Ummmm…" He looks around the living room, dark brown eyes looking for
something to focus on.

Of course, he chooses Layla's framed school picture that sits on the table against the
stairs. The panic in his face drains to a level six terror; he sits up straight and takes a deep
breath. She seems to calm this little bastard, which sends me over the edge.

She's my baby.

"Don't look at her picture. Boy!" I yell, standing up, pointing a finger in his scared little
face.

"Boy," a deeper, more calm tone sounds from my side. It's Chief Swan and that particular
'Boy' was meant for me. "You better sit down, Boy."

So I do, and Conner smiles.

"Go ahead, Boy, ask what you came over here to ask," Chief Swan says, huffing and
puffing hot air on his Police badge; shining it so that it twinkles. "Something about taking
my Grandbaby to a school dance?" He retrieves his gun from his hip and places it on the
table between Conner and us.

Look who's smiling now.

"I was…" Conner stumbles, mumbles and fumbles. "I was wondering if I can…. I was
wondering if I can please take Layla to the dance on Friday?" His eyes never leave the
gun.

"No," I say immediately.

Conner sighs, shoulders slump. Bella calls my name from the kitchen, but it isn't in a way
that's saying she needs me. It's more like a, 'fix that now,' sort of way. Chief Swan, he
only shakes his head in my direction, calling me a rookie underneath his breath.

His grey and black mustache moves up and down as he speaks. Chief Swan's eyebrows
scrunch and unscrunch… he's getting old, but aging well. You had better believe he is
still as scary as he was the very first day I met him. “The last time I let someone I love
go to a school dance, Boy, it was my daughter, Bella."

Oh, God.

"…and that didn't turn out so well." He looks at me with an evil eye.

Prom, I remember that night well.

"Let's just say the night of that particular school dance turned out to be a very long night
for me, Boy, and I have no intentions of repeating such a catastrophe. Do you hear me,
Boy? Are you paying attention to me, Boy?" The Chief is slowly beginning to turn
purple.

"I hear you. I promise I do!" Conner sounds like he is about to cry.

"Fine, you can take her," I say, leaning close to the boy. "But I tell you what, Conner. I
will be watching and if you hurt her in any way I will rip off your…"

"Dad!"

Shit.

Chief Swan and I share our own panicked looks as my daughter stomps her way down the
stairs. Layla positions herself between the boy and us; hands on her hips, purple and pink
sunglasses hanging on her nose. Her brown hair is a mess on top of her head, arms
crossed over her chest and her bare foot tapping on the carpet waiting for an answer.

"Don't embarrass me, Dad," she says. "You know how important this dance is, Dad," she
insists. "I can't believe you, Grandpa"

Chief Swan immediately retreats.

"Mom!" Layla screams. "Dad and Grandpa are being mean to Conner again." Now she's
crying and out of the living room, running into the arms of her mother… who today, isn't
wearing any glasses.

Before I give up this fight and join my wife and daughter, I tell the boy to come a little
closer. "Just a little closer, Boy, I have something to tell you."

He's interested, so is the Chief.

"Here's the deal, boy, if you want to take my girl to the dance you need to do me a favor:
count her smiles and for every smile…"

.

.

.

AN: If you've read TLW, then you know exactly where that is going.

It was a lot of fun writing this and knowing that it will be used to help is even better.
Thank you for donating, and enjoy reading the rest of the OS's.

TB23