Died and Gone to Heaven By DoUTrustMe

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5958812/1/Died_and_Gone_to_Heaven

Accidents happen. Sometimes you die and meet God. Sometimes you live and meet SexGod. B&E.
AH. AU.

Chapter One: Doctor SexGod

"Am I dead?"

"No, you're not dead." The voice spoke to me from the darkness. It was god-like in its velvety
smoothness.

"Am I blind?"

I could hear amusement in the voice. "No, you're not blind, either."

"Why can't I see?"

"You have a bandage over one eye and the other eye is closed," the soft voice explained patiently.

"Oh." I tried to pry my eyes open. "I can't open my eyes."

"Well then, you should probably sleep."

"Okay, God."

"Who am I?" I asked.

"You don't know?" Velvet Voice sounded concerned at that.

"No."

"Do you know your first name?" Velvet Voice asked softly.

I tried to find it in inside my head somewhere, but couldn't. "No."

"Do you know what year this is?"

"Two thousand and ... something. Eight? Nine? Ten?"

"How old are you?"

"Somewhere between twenty five and twenty eight, I think."

"Do you know your name now?"

"No."

"What shall we call you then?"

"How about Tallulah? I've always liked that name."

"All right then, Tallulah, I want you to get some rest." Velvet Voice was caring and concerned.

"My arm hurts."

"It's broken. It's in a cast."

"How long have I been here?"

"A couple of days."

"Why don't I have to go to the bathroom?"

"You have a catheter. We can take it out as soon as you're up and around."

"Ew."

"It's better than the alternative."

"Who put in the catheter?"

"I did."

"Wasn't it gross?"

"I've put in lots of catheters."

"Oh." Was the voice gone? "You didn't look did you? At my lady bits?"

Velvet Voice was amused. "I had a peek."

"And?"

"I'm a doctor. I've seen lots of lady bits."

"Oh," I said disappointed. "I guess you didn't get a good look at my boobs then, because they are
spectacular and you wouldn't be so cavalier about seeing them."

"I'll make sure to examine them next time I come in."

"Are you God?"

"Just hold still for a minute." Velvet Voice was amused.

"What did you just do?"

"I put a pain killer in with your IV. It will help you rest until your head feels better."

"I've sinned you know."

"Have you?"

"You know I have. You know everything. You see everything."

"Then I guess I already know if you've sinned."

"I lusted."

"Who did you lust after?"

"I don't know, but he had a nice ass and I had fabulous sex with him in my dream."

"Did you?"

"I didn't see his face, though. But his hands were magic and his velvet voice was pure seduction."

"Was he worth sinning for?"

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Should I feel bad?"

"Do you feel bad?"

"No, I feel really good. Relaxed. Except that my arm hurts."

"It should heal nicely. It was a clean break. I've seen the x-rays."

"God?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have sex? With Mrs. God?"

"Not recently."

"You should."

"I'll take that under advisement."

I finally managed to pry one eye open. "God?"

"Mm." God was leaning over facing away from me checking some clear tubing on a pole.

"You have a nice ass, too."

God threw back his head and laughed as he walked out of the hospital room.

My head hurt. A lot. And there was rustling in my room.

"God, is that you?"

"If you want to call me that." Velvet Voice was back and levitating somewhere near my head.

I pried opened both eyes and saw sparkling green eyes in the face of an angel. Apparently, I had died
and gone to heaven.

"Can I have a mirror?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," his perfect lips said to me. I fixated on them.

"Am I hideous?"

"No, you're very pretty."

"I feel hideous."

"Do you? Why is that?"

"I need a bath."

"I could give you a sponge bath. Your stitches and cast shouldn't be soaked."

"You're a doctor, right? Not some perv off the street coming in to offer me a sponge bath?" I was
back to his eyes. I couldn't decide if his ass, eyes or his lips were better, but I thought I should look at
his eyes since he was sitting on his ass.

"So the certificates on my office wall say." His green eyes twinkled. "Don't worry. I've already seen
your lady bits. And I had a peek at your boobs while you were asleep. They are spectacular, but I'm a
real doctor. I don't just play one on T.V."

"Will it gross you out?"

"To give you sponge bath?"

"Yes. I'm really sweaty and yucky."

"I've seen much, much worse. You're very lucky." He ran his hand through his bronze-colored hair.

Oh, the hair! How could I have missed that? I added it to my list. Velvet voice. Biteable ass. Gorgeous
green bedroom eyes. Pouty lips made for kissing. Sex hair.

"Okay then."

"Okay what?"

"You can give me a sponge bath."

"Thank you ..." he said dryly. "... for that privilege."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't. I'm teasing you."

"Oh. Why won't you give me a mirror?"

"Because you've got a black eye and you're pretty bruised up and I'd like to clean the gunk out of
your hair first."

"Gunk. Is that a medical term?"

"Yes. It's Latin for 'I don't want you to panic if I say the word blood'."

"Why would I panic?"

"Some people panic."

"Not me."

"Good."

"Doctor God?"

"Yes."

"I'm panicking. Is there a lot of gunk?"

"There's a bit."

"Anything else?"

"Anything else what?"

"Anything else I should know about? Did I lose a spleen? Did I get a lobotomy?"

"Broken arm. Gunk in hair. Stitches in head. Scratches, cuts and bruises. You'll live. And a bit of
memory loss."

"A bit?"

"Well, you hit your head. It's probably temporary."

"Who do you think I am?"

"Who do you think you are?"

"Are you a psychiatrist? 'Cause I swear you just answered a question with a question."

"How do you feel about that?"

"You so are a psychiatrist."

"Every doctor does a psychiatric rotation. It's part of the training."

"Can I call you Doctor Freud?"

"I'd prefer that to God. Or you can call me by my real name."

"Which is?"

"Doctor Stein. But you can call me Frank."

"Frank Stein. Your middle initial wouldn't happen to be an N, would it?"

"How did you know?"

"Doctor Frank N. Stein? I've lost my memory, not my mind."

"Your mind seems to be in good working order. Even with the pain killers."

"Is this your bedside manner with everyone or just me, Doctor Smart Ass?"

"I thought I was Doctor Nice Ass."

"Are you going to give me a sponge bath still?"

"If you'd like."

"Can I give you a sponge bath after? It's only fair, really. Quid pro quo."

"Normally, I'd say yes, but I don't want you to get your cast wet."

"Do you give all your patients sponge baths?"

"No, just the ones with spectacular boobs."

"Do you let all your patients give you a sponge bath?"

"Same answer I just gave."

"You're a boob man?"

"Some doctors specialize in pediatrics, some in anaesthesia, I specialize in spectacular boobs."

"Are you a plastic surgeon?"

"Nope."

"You don't do boobs, then."

"There's only one pair of boobs that I 'do'. And they are all natural. And quite spectacular."

"Oh. Are you married?"

"I am."

"Oh. Sorry I flirted with you then."

"That's okay. My wife would understand."

"She would?"

"Uh huh."

"She must be some kind of wife."

"She is."

"I had another dream about sex with you. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were married."

"That's okay. Maybe next time you can actually have sex with me instead of just dreaming about it."

"Are you coming on to me? Because I don't do married men."

"Don't you? That's not what your chart tells me."

"What does my chart tell you?"

"It tells me that you're married. And you have an IUD. So I'm pretty sure you do at least one married
man."

"I'm married?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I can't have sex with you."

"Why not?"

"Your wife? My husband?"

"I won't tell if you won't." He winked at me and left the room.

"I've changed my mind," I said.

"About what?" Doctor SexGod said in two words or less.

"I do want to have sex with you. I think it was the wink. And I had another dream about you. You
were amazing."

"Oh, good."

"But I need that sponge bath first. Spectacular boobs only get you so far."

"Right. I'll be back this evening to give you that. And then I'll have sex with you."

"I'll bet all your patients want to have sex with you."

"No, the geriatric men don't usually want to. Although there was this one ..."

"Do you have sex with all your patients?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"If I'm married to them."

"How many of your patients are you married to?"

"Just the one."

"Which one?"

"The one I'm going to have sex with."

"We're married?"

"So we are."

"So, I get to have sex with you whenever I want?"

"Unless I'm in the middle of a hospital board meeting. That might be a little awkward."

"I don't believe you," I said.

"About what?"

I took in the green eyes, sex hair and kissable lips in one glance. Now if only I could get him to turn
around and bend over again.

"That we're married."

"Why is that?"

"Because if we were married, I'd remember it. That's not something I'd forget."

"Well, you did receive quite a blow to the head when you wrapped the brand new car I bought you
around a tree trunk."

"Is the car okay?"

"I'm not as concerned about the car as I am about you."

"Oh. Was it an expensive car?"

"Yes, quite expensive."

"Was it a silver Volvo?"

"Yes. You remember?"

"Why do I remember a stupid car and not you?"

"Volvos are not stupid cars. We've had this discussion before."

"Maybe you're a pain killer-induced hallucination."

"I'm not a hallucination."

"Then why do you keep promising me a sponge bath and not giving it to me?"

"I started to gave you a sponge bath earlier, but you fell asleep."

"What? I missed that? Did I miss the sex too?"

"No, I like my women conscious when I have sex with them."

"Oh, good. Can we have sex now?"

"Sure. How do you propose we do that?"

"Well, I could raise the head of the bed up. Ouch. My head hurts. Maybe I'd better just give you a
blow job."

"Perhaps I should prop a chair in front of the door then so we're not interrupted."

"Did I give you the blow job?"

"No, you fell asleep again."

"Don't give me any more pain killers then because I want to be awake while I'm giving you a blow
job."

"You're almost through with your pain killers."

"I figured out how we can have sex."

"How?"

"You get naked and come hop in bed with me."

"Okay. Perhaps I should prop the chair in front of the door first."

"Did we have sex?"

"No, I got all naked for nothing. And my nice ass was hanging out of the bed and everything."

"I'm sorry. Am I finished my pain killers now?"

"You had the last of the lot. You should be more alert now."

"Do pain killers make you horny? Because all I dream about is having sex with you."

"Not that I'm aware. Maybe you're just naturally horny."

"Well am I?"

"What?"

"Naturally horny? You should know. How long have we been married?"

"About three weeks."

"We've only been married three weeks?"

"Yup."

"No wonder I'm so horny for you."

"I hope you'll always be horny for me."

"How did we get together?"

"You wrapped your truck around a tree and I was happened to be covering for another doctor that
night in ER."

"Oh. I guess I do that a lot."

"I guess you do."

"Did I try to have sex with you then too?"

"Your injuries were minor. But, I'm sure if we'd had more time you would have tried to."

"Oh. How did we end up married?"

"Well, after I treated you for your car accident, I treated you for a cut on your arm, a broken hand
when you punched your boyfriend and then a broken foot when you kicked your karate teacher in
the head. And we went from there."

"I'm kind of a klutz aren't I?"

"You are a little accident prone."

"Do you love me?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"You're smart and funny and I love being with you."

"I'm not so great at the sex, huh?"

"The sex is amazing."

"Then why didn't you mention it?"

"I said I loved being with you. How do you know I wasn't referring to the sex?"

"Oh. Do I love you?"

"Yes, you do."

"Why do I love you?"

"Because I give you great sex."

"That's kind of shallow of me."

"Well, you also love me because I'm smart and funny and you love being with me, but I thought I
might as well get right down to the sex thing because you were going to ask about it anyway."

"You know me pretty well, don't you?"

"Inside and out."

"Do I have a name, a real one, Doctor SexGod?" I asked.

"You do," Doctor SexGod answered.

"It's not Tallulah is it?"

"It's not. It's Bella."

"Bella," I repeated.

"It means beautiful."

"I know that. Both in French and Italian. Do I speak French and Italian?"

"A little of both."

"And what is your name, Doctor SexGod?"

"It's Edward. Edward Cullen."

"So I'm Bella Cullen?"

"Actually, you are Bella Swan hyphen Cullen. You're kind of a feminist."

"When do I get out of here? It's not really conducive to having sex with my husband of three weeks."

"I'm hoping you can be out by tomorrow and I'll take you home."

"We have a home?"

"We do."

"Is it nice?"

"It's quite nice."

"What do I do? For a living?"

"You're a travel journalist. Or you were before we got married. Now you freelance."

"Am I good?"

"I think you're fabulous."

"Where was I going when I wrapped my car around a tree?"

"You were coming to my office to have sex with me."

"I have sex with you in your office?"

"On the desk. Under the desk. In the supply closet. On the floor. On top of the file cabinet ..."

"Okay, I get it. I'm not a nympho or something am I?"

"No, but you're enthusiastic. And you love me."

"Apparently, I love you an awful lot."

"You said I have an IUD right?" I asked.

"Uh huh," Doctor SexGod answered in his usual pithy manner.

"And I'm going home today?"

"Yes."

"To our home. Where we live together and have sex on a regular basis?"

"Yes."

"Can I have a mirror yet?"

Doctor Edward SexGod Cullen looked at me with his bedroom eyes and pouty lips and I reached
around with my good arm and put my hand on his delectable ass.

"I think you can." He didn't move.

"The mirror? Did you change your mind?"

"No, I was just enjoying your hand. It's the first time you've touched me in days."

"I asked you to have sex with me multiple times, you just didn't take me up on it."

"Well, you kept falling asleep."

"Well, you shouldn't have pumped me full of all those pain killers."

"Well, I couldn't stand to see you in pain."

"You do love me, don't you?"

"I do."

"The mirror?"

"The hand?"

I moved my hand off his ass and watched it walk into the bathroom and get a little shaving mirror.

He handed it to me with his long fingers and I took a deep breath.

Long fingers? This list was getting long. Velvet voice. Biteable ass. Gorgeous green bedroom eyes.
Pouty lips made for kissing. Sex hair. Long, nimble fingers.

The first thing I saw when I looked in the mirror was the purple, green and yellow around my brown
bloodshot eye. The rest was passable.

"You think I'm pretty?"

"I believe I said very pretty. You're absolutely stunning when your eye isn't all colors of the rainbow."

"Can you bring your ass back over here now?"

"I can."

"Have we ever had sex in one of these hospital beds before?"

"Nope."

"When will I be released?"

"In about an hour when I can get to the paperwork."

"So my head's okay. My arm will be okay. I just don't remember who I am?"

"That sums it up."

"And I'm off pain killers so I'm not going to fall asleep all the time?"

"Yup."

"Maybe you should prop a chair in front of the door."

Chapter Two: Doc Sex

"It's too bad that nurse came in," I sighed. Usually I liked to start with a question, but I thought I'd
mix it up a little.

"I know." Doctor SexGod was his usual verbose self.

"You'd think she'd get the hint with the chair propped up against the door and all."

"And your hand on my ass when she finally wrenched open the door."

"Some people just don't read body language cues."

"I think she got the gist of what was going on."

"Do I have clothes to wear home? Or do I have to wear this hospital gown?"

"You weren't wearing much when you had the accident."

"What was I wearing?"

Doctor SexGod held up two flimsy black lace items between his long, nimble fingers.

"That's all I was wearing?"

"You had a trench coat over top."

"Well, thank goodness for that."

"That's not what the paramedics said."

"What did they say?"

"They said it's too bad you had the trench coat over top."

"Do I know these paramedics?"

"I introduced you to them at the Hospital Christmas party a few weeks ago. I'm pretty sure they each
drunkenly propositioned you at least twice before the night was over."

"Did you drunkenly proposition me too? At the Christmas party?"

"I was too busy having sex with you in the janitor's closet. And then again in the back of the cab on
the way home where we had sex on the kitchen floor."

"Doctor SexGod, I have a fantastic ass," I said.

"Yes, you do." Doctor SexGod was becoming more verbose. He'd said three words. In a row. I think
my ass really impressed him.

"Look, look at my ass."

"I'm looking."

I turned around and stood on my tip toes to see in the mirror of the hospital bathroom. "You should
feel it. You should feel my ass." I ran my hands up and down my ass.

"I have. On many occasions."

"Why do you think I didn't remember my ass, but I did my boobs?"

"I'm not sure."

"Should I put the clothes you brought for me on top of this lingerie? Or just the trench coat?"

"You should put them all on. Rumour has it there are a two paramedics loitering down at the front
desk waiting for your release papers to show up."

I put on the sweat pants, t-shirt and trench coat over the lingerie. Doctor SexGod hadn't fallen for the
whole ass-feeling trick. Maybe I'd tried that one out on him before. Too bad. It was one of my better
tricks.

"You drive a Lexus?" I was back to asking questions again.

"I do," Doctor SexGod said as he drove his Lexus.

"It's comfy, but is it environmentally friendly?"

"We've had this argument already."

"Oh. Who wins?"

"I do."

"Okay then. That was easy. Are we rich?" I laid my head back on the comfy head rest on the comfy
seat.

"We do okay."

"Doctors aren't as rich as people think," I observed.

"I know. But, I made some investments which paid off."

Doctor SexGod put his hand on my knee. His hand looked really good on my knee. His fingers looked
really long and nimble on my knee. Maybe his hand and fingers looked good anywhere he put them. I
had a pretty good idea where I'd like him to put them next.

I put my hand on Doctor SexGod's thigh. He had a really nice thigh. I looked at his thigh for a long
time. Both of them. Back and forth between his thighs. Between his thighs. I looked. I added his
thighs to my list. I was pretty sure I was going to add what was between his thighs to my list too.

"You're staring at my crotch," he pointed out.

"I know. I'm trying to figure out if I should add it to my list."

"It was always top of your list."

"Really? You know about the list?"

"It's quite long."

"The list, or what was always at the top of the list?"

"I guess you'll have to wait and see."

"It's a good thing I'm patient."

He smirked and I mentally kicked myself. With my mental foot. In the head. Which isn't easy to do.
I'd forgotten to add smirking and crooked smiling to my list. Although, I suppose those could fall
under the category of things he could do with his divine mouth. When it got right down to parts of
his divine mouth, I'd seen his lips and teeth, but hadn't seen his tongue yet so it was perhaps a bit
early to make such a sweeping judgment.

"Doc Sex?" I decided to shorten his name to the diminutive. Why not? It had worked well for Doc
Martens. "You've got something right here." I pointed to the corner of his mouth.

Doc Sex very cooperatively licked the corner of this mouth. He falls for that one every time. Actually,
I'm not sure if he does or not, but I was pretty sure he would.

Lovely tongue. Perfect, pouty lips. Beautiful white teeth. The ultimate mouth trifecta. Now on my list.

"Am I patient?" I asked.

"Not so much."

"Oh. Good to know. Have I ever very patiently given you a blowjob while you were driving your
Lexus?"

"Once, but we got stopped by the police so we decided we shouldn't do it again."

"Did you get a ticket?"

"No, the officer couldn't form a complete sentence so he let it go. His eyes were glued to your
boobs."

"Sorry I fell asleep in the car."

"No problem. I understand. It's a comfy car. See why I won that argument?"

We were in the living room of our house. It was quite nice. There were couches. There was a piano.
There was a fireplace. There was a rug in front of the fireplace. I wondered if we'd ever had sex on
the rug in front of the fireplace.

There was a Christmas tree in one corner. Doc Sex reached down, flipped a switch and turned on the
multi-coloured tree lights. I watched them twinkle. Especially the green ones.

"Did we decorate this tree?"

"Yes, we did it together and then we drank hot cider with cinnamon and sang Christmas carols at the
piano. And then we had sex on top of the piano."

I looked at the piano. It was a shiny, black baby grand. I willed the piano to tell me all the juicy
details. The piano just sat there.

Stupid shiny, black piano.

"Do I sing?" I asked.

"You sing beautifully. It's one of the things that made me fall in love with you."

"Oh. Do you sing?"

"I play the piano and we like to sing together."

"Will you play for me?"

"I'd love to play for you. This is one of your favourites." He sat down at the piano and played a very
simple, but beautiful Chopin Nocturne.

I watched his fingers on the piano keys.

"I understand why I had sex with you on top of the piano," I said after he finished.

"After we had sex on top of the piano, we had sex on the rug in front of the fireplace."

I looked at the rug. I knew it wasn't going to tell me anything, so I called it stupid too, just to be fair. I
was an equal opportunity decorating disparager.

"What did you get me ..." I asked. " ... for Christmas?" There were brightly wrapped gifts under the
tree.

"You'll have to wait and see," he said with his twinkly green Christmas tree light eyes. I wasn't sure
when he'd switched out his green bedroom eyes.

"What did I get you?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. I'll have to wait and see."

"I hope I got you something really nice."

"I'm sure you did. You always buy me great presents. You're very thoughtful."

Maybe I'd bought him some really tight pants. I hoped I'd had the good sense to do that.

He kissed me on the cheek. My cheek tingled. I put my hand to my cheek. My hand tingled. I started
to think about him in really tight pants. I tingled all over.

Doc Sex was standing with his back to me in front of our bedroom closet, loosening his tie. I was
sitting on the bed.

"You dropped something," I said.

"Did I? Where?"

"On the floor."

"Where?"

"You have to bend over to see it. Right. No, a little to the left … no. Oh, I guess I was mistaken."

I moved Doc Sex's ass to the top of my list.

He was undoing the buttons of his shirt. He was taking off his shirt. I added his back to the list.

He turned around to face me. "How are you feeling? Still tired?"

I immediately moved Doc Sex's chest to the top of my list. His chest slash stomach hair got separate,
but dual billing.

"I'm a little tired."

"Do you want me to help you with a bath?"

"A sponge bath?"

"No, a regular bath. We can wrap your cast in plastic."

Doc Sex was removing his pants in slow motion in front of me. The zipper was taking forever to slide
down. Damn you zipper. A pox upon all zippers. Death to all zippers.

The zipper slid down, but Doc Sex turned back around to face the closet.

I moved his ass back to the top of the list. Triple billing with his chest and chest slash stomach hair.

Doc Sex was wearing gray boxer briefs. I wondered if he would fall for the whole "you dropped
something" trick again.

He put on a pair of loose-fitting, cotton pajama bottoms over his gray boxer briefs. Damn you pajama
bottoms. A pox upon all pajama bottoms. Death to all pajama bottoms.

I was pretty sure I was going to burn his pajama bottoms the next time he went to work.

And maybe all his boxers as well.

"Thank you for washing the gunk out of my hair," I said. I was being polite because I was pretty sure
we wouldn't have stayed married for three whole weeks if we weren't polite to each other.

Doc Sex was kneeling beside the tub. His chest was wet. The water was dripping down his chest to
the top of his pajama pants. I was hoping he would take them off because they were wet. I might
have accidentally splashed his chest.

I was naked, but Doc Sex was behind me so he wasn't looking at my spectacular boobs. He was
rinsing the shampoo off my back. I was hoping he'd look at my boobs so he'd want to take off his
pajama pants. I might have accidentally twisted around so he had to look at them.

"Are you ready to get out?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows. I couldn't remember if I'd added
his eyebrows to the list yet or not.

"I guess."

Doc Sex gently helped me into a fluffy, white bathrobe and carefully wrapped my head in a towel. He
took the plastic off my cast.

He then very tenderly led me to the bed and towel-dried my hair. He delicately combed through each
strand of hair being careful to avoid my injuries as he faced me. I stared at his perfect lips. I stared at
his chest and the furry strip that went down into the top of his boxers. I stared at the hair under his
arms.

I added his armpits to the list. The list was getting very long. I might have to type up the list. I
debated putting all body hair together to make the list shorter. I could remember the beginning
items on the list, kind of like the Twelve Days of Christmas song, but couldn't remember the order of
the later items on the list. Did his armpits come before or after his thighs?

Doc Sex finished combing out my wet hair and gave me a quick kiss on the head.

I might have accidentally tried to move my head so he got my lips instead of the side of my head, but
he moved too fast. He took the towel back in the bathroom. The back of the baggy pajama pants
made me move his ass down into second spot on the list.

"Your pajama pants are wet," I said.

"I know," he said. "I'll change them." He started to take them off.

When his pajama pants were almost off, I suddenly and inexplicably had a problem with my cast. He
dropped the pajama pants on the floor and came over to the bed in his gray boxer briefs to examine
my cast. I was now almost a hundred percent sure I'd found the item that would remain at the top of
the list.

"Your briefs are wet," I said.

"I know," he said. "I'll change them."

"Can I help you with that?" I asked. I was pretty sure we wouldn't have stayed married for three
whole weeks if we didn't help each other. Besides, he had said I was thoughtful, right?

"I'm fine," he said.

He took some dry boxer briefs and pajama bottoms into the bathroom and closed the door. I
suddenly had an irrational hate for bathroom doors. I was pretty sure I was going to start an online
petition against bathroom doors.

I removed my robe and got into the bed naked.

Doc Sex left the bathroom, went into the kitchen and came back with two capsules and a glass of
water.

"So you can get a good night's sleep," he said as he handed them to me.

I might have accidentally let the sheets and blankets fall away from my chest as I took the pills from
his hand and swallowed them with a gulp of water. I stared into his green bedroom eyes. How did he
do that? Keep switching them out like that. I was just getting used to his twinkling ones.

"Do you want some pajamas?" he said. "I don't want you to get cold."

"I was hoping you could keep me warm," I suggested.

"I'll keep you warm, too, but you might need pajamas in case the blankets come off in the middle of
the night."

I would have preferred that his boxers and pajama pants came off in the middle of the night.

He got a nightie out of a drawer. I didn't see the point. It was short and see through, but he helped
me put it on. I might have accidentally brushed his chest with my hand while he was helping me. He
might have accidentally brushed the back of his hand against my boob while he was helping me.

He turned off the overhead light, turned on the lamp beside the bed, grabbed a book off the
nightstand and got under the covers. He put his arm out in invitation and I snuggled up against his
side, being careful with my cast.

"What do I call you?" I asked.

He put his book down.

"What?"

"Besides Doctor SexGod? Edward. Eddie. Ed. Teddy. Ted. The Cullenator? What do I usually call you?"

"It depends on the circumstance."

"Oh?"

"If you're upset or serious you call me Edward. If you're happy and flirting you call me Edster. Then
there's the Edmeister, the Ed man, Edless Horseman, Big Ed, Mr. Ed, Doctor Ed, Doctor Edper, Doctor
Love ... "

"Okay, I get it. I have a lot of names for you."

"And then in the heat of passion you call me Edward-ooooh."

"Eduardo?"

"No. Oh, Edward, oh, oh, Edward oh, Edward oh. Edward-ooooh," he demonstrated in a breathy
voice.

I clamped my thighs together.

"Ooooh," I responded cleverly.

"Kind of like you just did there only breathier and louder and with Edward in front," he explained
politely and went back to his book.

"Just those two words? Oh, Edward, oh, oh, Edward oh, Edward oh. Edward-oooh. But not, Oh,
Edward, oh, oh, harder baby, faster, deeper, oh, you're a sex machine! Oh, oh," I said in a loud
breathy voice.

I'm pretty sure Doc Sex clamped his thighs together. He put his book down.

"Sometimes. Only not the part about the sex machine, although you should think about throwing
that in there now and then. And you yell the names of bands."

"Bands?"

"Oh, Edward, oh, oh, harder baby, faster, deeper, oh. Hootie and the Blooooowfiiiiiiiish," he
demonstrated.

"You're making that up."

"Am I?"

"We should find out."

"How would we do that?"

"We should have sex."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"There's one problem."

"What's that?"

"I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle of having sex with me," he responded.

"I'm pretty sure I won't. Especially if I'm yelling in a breathy voice."

"Do you remember your sponge bath?"

He had a point. "No, I fell asleep."

"Too bad you missed it. I spent a lot of time on your spectacular boobs and fantastic ass."

"Sponging?"

"Oogling."

"Oh."

He went back to his book.

"What do you call me?" I asked.

"I call you by your name. It's a unique concept, I know. But I'm creative like that." He was still reading
his book.

"Which name? Bella or Swan?"

He closed his book and put it on the nightstand. "Your full name is Isabella Marie Swan hyphen
Cullen. I call you Bella," he explained patiently.

"How about in the heat of passion?"

"Then I call you Marge."

He turned out the light and held me in his arms.

"Marge?" I asked.

"No, more like, Oh, Marge, oh, give it to me baby, oh, oh, Maaaaaaaaaaaaarge," he moaned.

I clamped my thighs together again.

"Who is Marge?" I asked.

"I have no idea."

"You're making that up again."

I could hear him smile in the dark.

"When you feel better and have had a little more rest, I will definitely have sex with you." He kissed
me on the top of my head again.

Damn all head kisses. A pox on all head kisses. Death to all head kisses. I wanted perfect pouty lip
kisses.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep during my sponge bath." I was pretty sure we wouldn't have stayed married for
three whole weeks if we didn't apologize to each other.

"That's okay. I understand. I still enjoyed the view. And you have gorgeous legs. They are almost at
the top of my list."

He had a list? I stayed awake for a while wondering what was on his list.

"Is it because of my eye?" I whispered, "That you don't want to have sex with me?"

It took a minute for him to respond. "No, Bella. It's because I love you. And I want to wait until you
feel better," he whispered back. "And I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

I was pretty sure I was falling in love with my husband.

"Why won't you kiss me? On the lips?" I whispered again.

"Because if I start, I won't be able to stop. Your lips are second on my list. Now, go to sleep, please."
He ran his hand down my arm lightly and brushed against my boob.

I might have accidentally moved my thigh over his and kissed his cheek before I fell quickly asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night. It was dark. Something hard was pressing into my hip. I was
pretty sure it was the item that was vying for top spot on my list.

I listened to ascertain if Doc Sex was awake. His breathing was heavy and deep. My arm was at an
awkward angle so I slithered over a bit. I moved my good hand carefully and quietly under the covers
toward the elusive item.

Doc Sex rolled over and away from me with a snore.

The item had escaped my cunning stealth. If it wanted to earn the coveted prime spot on my list it
would need to stop evading me.

I needed to formulate a plan. An evil plan. A diabolical plan.

I lay awake and concocted an evil, diabolical plan.

And then I fell back into an exhausted sleep.

Chapter Three: Sex

I woke up to whistling. And humming. Humming and whistling.

Sex came into the bedroom carrying a tray. I decided to call him just 'Sex' today. I was being thrifty
with words. I was sure that would be of some benefit to the environment.

On the tray was a steaming cup of coffee, a glass of juice, scrambled eggs and toast. He put the tray
down on the bed beside me. Next to the food, there was an envelope with my name on it propped
up against a vase which held a single red rose.

So much for my evil, diabolical plan. I'd been planning to serve him breakfast in bed wearing nothing
but an apron.

I wished Sex had been wearing nothing but an apron.

Sex was dressed in a blue dress shirt, striped tie and black dress pants. His hair was damp. His eyes
were green. His lips were perfect.

I'd been planning to feed him by hand, putting things on his perfect lips, beautiful teeth and lovely
tongue and admiring them all working together in action like a finely-tuned machine. A sex machine.
Then I'd been planning to have him put his lips, teeth and tongue on me.

Sometimes plans go awry. Even evil, diabolical ones.

"Is there anything you need before I go to work?" he asked politely. Sex was very polite, but I'd
prefer that he was naked.

"Yes, I need you to get naked," I answered.

Then I moved the tray aside and went over and stood in front of him.

He looked at my nightie. He looked at what was showing through my nightie.

"I have to go to work," he answered. He was less polite and more distracted. His eyes were more
green. He had very long lashes. I was pretty sure his bedroom eyes were back and they'd brought his
long lashes with them. His bedroom eyes were looking at my boobs. We were making progress.

I put my arms around his neck, being careful not to hit him in the head with my cast. I wanted him to
be lucid. Or maybe I didn't. Lucid wasn't getting me anywhere. I considered hitting him over the head
with my cast.

When I put my arms around his neck, my nightie rode up. He put his hands on my ass cheeks. Both of
them. Both hands. Both ass cheeks. And rubbed them up and down. I knew he'd fall for it eventually.
Now, if only I could get him to touch my boobs.

I kissed his neck. I licked his neck. I nibbled his neck.

He did the same to mine.

But, somehow I didn't seem to have the same effect on him that he had on me. He'd taken his hands
off my ass and put them on my back. There was something wrong.

No, wait. I was mistaken. Sometimes I'm mistaken and plans go awry. Not this time. The plan was
actually working.

I felt the item I wanted at the top of my list. I felt the item I wanted somewhere else. The item would
be good at the top of my list, but it would be better somewhere else. Lower. I stood up on my tip
toes so the item was a little lower. Not low enough.

I needed a name for the item. I wondered what Sex called it.

"What do you call it?" I asked trying not to breathe on him. I needed to brush my teeth. And to go to
the bathroom.

"It?"

"The item that I want at the top of my list and lower than it is right now."

"My penis?"

"You don't have a name for it?"

"No, I'm a doctor. I like to call items by their anatomically correct names."

"Do I have a name for it?"

"You have many, many names for it. The Item is just one of them."

"I must spend a lot of time thinking up names for it."

"I think you spend a lot of time thinking about it, period."

"I feel much better," I whispered in his ear. "And I had a good rest. I think The Item should be aware
of that."

"The Item seems to be very aware of that," he said.

"Don't move," I instructed and dashed into the bathroom.

When I came back out, he'd moved.

He was in the kitchen. He had a jacket on. And a briefcase in one hand. The Item was nowhere in
sight.

"Don't we have sex in the mornings?" I asked.

"Usually."

"How many times a day do we usually have sex?"

"Morning. Noon. Night. Sometimes during the night. Sometimes early in the morning. Sometimes in
the afternoon. Sometimes mid morning."

"Do you come home during the day then?"

"I'll be home at lunch time to check on you. And I'll call to make sure you're okay. Do you want me to
pick up something up to eat? I want you to rest."

"No, I'll make something."

"Okay." He kissed me on the cheek. Damn cheek kisses all to hell. I wanted neck kisses. And perfect
pouty lip kisses.

"I'll see you at lunch time then," he said.

"Sex?"

"Are you asking?"

"No, I'm calling you Sex."

"I have a new name?"

"I thought it suited you."

"Hm," he muffled into my hair as he kissed my head while one hand slid down to squeeze my ass. We
were definitely making progress again.

"Is my ass at the top of your list?" I asked. He seemed to like touching it. He should touch it more.

"Nope."

"My boobs?"

"Nope."

"What then?"

He smirked. His smirk was on my list under the heading of divine mouth. But, I wasn't too happy with
the smirk right now. I considered demoting the whole mouth trifecta because of the smirk.

"My vajayjay?" I asked.

"Your vagina is on my list, but not first." The smirk has not disappeared. "My lips are sealed," he
added.

I once again considered hitting him over the head with my cast.

I didn't like his lips being sealed. His lips should be open and pressed against my lips with a little
tongue thrown in for good measure. His divine mouth was in danger of being demoted to last place
on the list. After his armpits. Which were pretty damned attractive.

"Can I cook?" I asked, changing the subject and hoping to get rid of the smirk.

"You can."

"Oh, that's good then."

"It is." He gave me another squeeze on my ass. And another neck kiss.

"Will we be having sex at lunch time, Sex?" I asked.

"How's your noggin?" he asked.

"That's not the anatomically correct name for it."

"I know, but I knew if I asked you 'How's your head?" you'd ask me "How's yours?' and you wouldn't
be referring to my noggin."

"You really do know me."

"Inside and out."

"My noggin is good. Perfect. No headaches or anything."

"Your arm?"

"Awkward but not as sore."

"I'll think about sex at lunch time," he said and then disappeared out the door.

I was pretty sure I would be thinking about nothing but sex at lunch time.

I was also pretty sure I was still falling in love with my husband.

My husband was at work. Sex was at work. Luckily, for me, they were one and the same. Unluckily for
me, they were both at work.

What did I do? When Sex was at work?

I ate breakfast. I opened the letter that was propped against the rose. And after I read the sweetly-
worded letter, I thought about having sex at work. At Sex's work. I thought about putting on sexy
underwear and a trench coat and driving to Sex's office to have sex with him. At work. In his office.
Possibly in his office chair.

The only trouble was I didn't know where his office was. And I had wrapped my Volvo around a tree.

Stupid tree. Stupid Volvo.

I tidied up the place the best I could with one arm. I tried to brush out the tangles from my hair which
took a long time. As I did, I thought about how Sex had combed the tangles from my hair. Which of
course made me think about having sex in his office chair. If he had an office chair. What if he didn't
have an office chair? I'd have to buy him an office chair.

Maybe that's what I'd bought him for Christmas.

I went in and looked under the tree at the gift I'd given him. Nope. Too small for an office chair.
About the right size for a pair of tight pants.

Damn, I was good.

I considered opening my gift to him to see what I'd bought him. I considered opening his gift to me to
see what he'd bought me.

I picked up the gift. I looked at the tag.

The tag said, Bella, do not open this gift until Christmas! in bold letters. He knew me so well.

I opened the gift.

The box was empty except for a note. It said, Bella, I told you not to open this gift until Christmas!
He knew me too well.

Now I had to find the wrapping paper and rewrap the gift so he wouldn't know I'd opened it, even
though I suspected he would know I'd opened it anyway. I had probably already opened it and re-
wrapped it myself.

I was pretty sure the wrapping paper must be somewhere in Sex's underwear drawer so that's the
first place I looked. I searched through three of his drawers, but only found underwear, socks, t-
shirts, sweat pants and jeans. All very neatly organized.

At the bottom of the fourth drawer I found a picture of the two of us. We were smiling and happy.
His arm was around me. He was looking down at me. I was looking at the camera. I looked better
without a black eye. He looked like he was in love.

I smiled.

I came upon a piece of paper. I opened it. It was a note. It was a very sexy note written in flowing,
feminine handwriting. It was a tribute to The Item.

I went to the desk in the kitchen and wrote out the words on a piece of paper. The writing was mine.

I smiled again.

I put the picture and the note back in the bottom of his drawer. It was his pajama drawer. I
considered burning his pajama pants, but I was still feeling all warm and fuzzy from the picture and
note he had saved so I didn't.

I might have accidentally pulled the string ties out of the waistbands of all his pajama pants.

Then I went to his closet, because if you don't put your Christmas wrapping paper in your underwear
drawer, the next obvious place to look would be in the pockets of your suit jackets.

I found sexy underwear in some of the pockets of his suit jackets. I hoped they were mine.

And then I inspected my own drawers. Mine were less organized. I had lots of sexy underwear. Three
drawers full. Not as many socks. And there were notes in my drawers. Lots of them. All from Sex.
Only they were signed 'Edward'. And some of them were about sex.

The notes were lovely. They made me cry. I read each note twice.

I was pretty sure I was half in love with my husband after reading the notes.

Some of the notes were sexier than others. They made me think about putting on some of the sexy
underwear and stealing a car so I could have sex with Sex in his office chair.

In the bottom drawer I found two DVDs. I put the first DVD in the player and watched the video of
our wedding.

Sex was in a tux. He looked divine. He looked happy. He looked like he was in love. And I looked
better without my black eye. I looked happy. And I looked like I was in love.

At the end of the tape, Sex explained to the camera why he loved me. I cried again. I was pretty sure I
loved him back.

I put in the other DVD and watched a video of us in our bedroom. I understood why The Item had
always been top of my list. I gave The Item its own list. With only one entry.

Sex had some explaining to do. There was no yelling of band names in breathy voices. Marge's name
didn't come up. Other things came up. And then went down. And then came back up again.

I understood why I was obsessed with sex with my husband.

Sex called at eleven o'clock. Something had come up at work. Hopefully it wasn't the same thing that
had come up on the second video. He said he wouldn't be home at lunch. He apologized very sweetly
and politely. He said he'd be home at six. And he would bring food for supper to make up for missing
lunch with me.

Then he asked me how I was doing and told me he loved me.

I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what I'd been working on as far as writing went. I
started up the laptop on the desk in the spare bedroom.

I wasn't sure of my password so I tried a few. What would I use as a password? Edward said I had lots
of names for him. I tried 'The Item'.

I was pretty predictable.

I looked through my research notes and articles and did some writing. Apparently, I could still write, I
just couldn't remember my husband. My mental priorities were obviously skewed.

After a while I got bored with writing.

I Googled Sex. Actually, I Googled 'Edward Cullen' because if I Googled 'sex' there would be too many
entries about an actor named Robert Pattinson.

There were a lot of entries about Edward Cullen as well. He was not only an upstanding citizen in the
community, he had organized hospital charity drives and spearheaded a campaign to bring medical
relief to children in third world countries.

Not everything about a person can be discovered in an underwear drawer.

I was pretty sure I was mostly in love with my husband.

When it was nearing suppertime, I tried to do something with my hair and cover up the yellow
around my eye. And I tried to figure out the best way to get my husband into bed. Or on top of the
piano. I wasn't that picky.

Sometimes plans have to be scrapped. Sometimes plans can be revisited.

I put on some sexy underwear and pair of very high heels. And then I put on an apron. And then I
heard a key in the lock of the door by the kitchen.

I came out of the bedroom and walked into the kitchen just as the door was opening.

Sex was not alone. Someone had come through the door before Sex. He was a man. Not my husband.
He'd been on the video. Not the sex video, the wedding video. And he got a really good look at my
boobs in my pushy uppy see-through bra before I fled back into the bedroom to put on some clothes.

"Bella?"

Sex came in the bedroom and apologized sweetly and profusely. "I thought you would be resting so I
didn't want to call and disturb you. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not sure I can come out of the bedroom now. Ever again." I said. "That man saw my boobs and
he's not you."

"No, but he's a doctor," Edward said. "He's seen lots of boobs. You don't need to be self-conscious."

"He hasn't seen mine. Or he hadn't until now."

"Well, yours are in a class by themselves."

I came out of the bedroom with clothes on this time and walked into the kitchen.

The man who had seen my boobs who was not my husband and on the wedding video smiled at me
and said, "It's good to see you. How are you feeling?"

He looked like Sex. Only older. He was very handsome, but with blonde hair.

"I'm feeling a little embarrassed," I said.

"I told Edward he should call first. An old married man like me knows these things." He winked at me.
"I'm Carlisle Cullen, Edward's father. We've met before but I guess you don't remember."

Apparently winking was hereditary. As were good genes.

He shook my hand warmly and smiled at me with his white teeth and I knew I'd married the right
man because in thirty years he was going to look like this and I was still going to want to have sex
with him. My husband. Not his father. Just to be clear.

"Hi. Apparently I'm Bella," I said as I shook his hand.

"I know." His eyes crinkled up at the corners.

"Edward and I were reviewing your MRI at the hospital and I just stopped by to see how you were
getting along. There doesn't appear to be any problem so I'm a little baffled by your memory loss."

"Perhaps my mind doesn't work like other people's," I suggested.

Edward smirked.

I was pretty sure I was going to have to hit him over the head with my cast. And then take off all his
clothes.

"It's unusual." Daddy Sex commented. "Are you having any headaches or pain?" he asked.

"Nuh uh," I said. "But I think I've been hit in the head a lot. I don't know why I know that, I just do.
Perhaps that's why my mind works differently than other people's."

"Do you remember the accident?"

"I remember being in the Volvo. And I stopped at a light and put on some lip gloss. And then I
loosened my coat a little because I was hot. And then this car drove up beside me and he started
driving erratically after that and that's all I remember."

Sex and Daddy Sex exchanged knowing glances.

"Just like the last time." Daddy Sex said.

Sex sighed. "Bella, the male citizens of Forks can't take any more of your cleavage. It's becoming a
hazard to the whole community."

"Oh?"

"I think my idea was the best solution," Sex said to Daddy Sex.

"But even the Volvo had dark windows," Daddy Sex said to Sex.

"No, the other solution," Sex answered. "The tank."

Suddenly I was invisible. I didn't want to be invisible. "Is that your prognosis?" I asked Sex.

Sex nodded with a serious look.

"And you?" I looked to Daddy Sex.

"That might take care of the problem. Not the memory problem, but the accident problem." Daddy
Sex concurred.

It took a combination of two doctors and umpteen years of formal medical education to conclude
that the solution to my predilection for getting into accidents was to drive a tank? Maybe my mind
wasn't the one with the problem.

Suddenly I realized that they both cared about me, and were trying to solve the problem in man-
speak with talk of cars and windows and tanks and solutions.

Suddenly I understood why I might have lost my memory.

"Perhaps we should call in a third doctor for a consult," I said soberly.

Daddy Sex and Sex looked at each other. They knew I was mocking them. I felt bad for mockiing them
for a fraction of a second because I was pretty sure I loved both of them and they loved me back.

I tried to make amends. "I appreciate your concern, Se… Edward and Carlisle, but you think I should
drive a tank?" I asked incredulously.

Sex and Daddy Sex both nodded.

"Have we had this debate before?" I asked Sex suspiciously.

Sex looked sheepish. "Yes, we've discussed it a lot."

"Did I feel strongly against being outfitted in a tank?"

"You did."

"Who won?" I asked.

"You were driving a Volvo. With dark windows." Edward replied. "Not a tank. It was a compromise."

"I'm glad to hear we came up with a compromise. I won't be driving a tank. I can just cover up my
boobs better when I'm driving." I had found the perfect solution. And it wasn't going to require the
equivalent of the coffers of a small country. Or the armed vehicles of one.

The Doctors Cullen looked at each other in amazement. I was pretty sure they were amazed at my
simple solution.

They weren't.

"Bella, it's not just your boobs. Don't you get it? It's your legs and your ass ... sorry Dad ... and your
face and … You can be walking down the street and men will fall into manholes. Ladders will fall and
knock people out. You're a walking danger zone."

I felt bad.

"Has anything ever happened to you?" I asked Sex.

"No, I seem to be immune," Sex answered.

The Doctors Cullen were both amazed when I burst into tears.

Chapter Four: X

Daddy Sex left with a sympathetic pat on my good arm. Sex was also sympathetic, but didn't leave.
He also patted my good arm. Apparently arm patting was also hereditary. My good arm was getting
sore from all the patting.

"What did I say?" Sex asked. "I'm sorry, whatever it was."

"You said you're immune to me," I said with a fresh flood of tears.

"I meant immune to the danger that follows after you."

I answered back between sniffles. "I thought you meant to me. I'm getting naked and throwing
myself at you and you don't even want to have sex with me."

He took me in his arms. There was no arm patting this time. But there was back patting. And rubbing.
Now, if only I could get him to do some ass rubbing. Except that I'd already used that trick. I mentally
thumbed through my bag of tricks. Which is hard to do because mental thumbs are not opposable. I
needed some new tricks.

"Bella, I do want to have sex with you. I was trying to be a considerate husband and give you a little
space until you felt better. And I thought maybe we should wait until you knew who I was."

"We didn't have a fight, did we? Before I got in the accident?"

"No, there was no fight. We try to be polite and helpful and thoughtful with each other. We were
doing a pretty good job."

Sex got me a tissue. Sex held me in his arms. Sex's stomach growled.

Sex needed to eat something so he'd have the energy to have sex with me. On top of the piano.

"I got Chinese food. We usually have it on Friday nights so you don't have to cook. It's one of your
favourites." Sex started the conversation this time. I considered bursting into tears more often so he
would start more conversations. I added that to my bag of tricks.

"It is?" I replied. Edward's proclivity for giving two word answers was rubbing off on me.

Sex helped me take up the food from the white cardboard containers with chopsticks and put it on
my plate as we sat at the kitchen table.

I watched Sex put noodles into his mouth. His lips, teeth and tongue worked together in perfect
harmony. I watched his jaw as he chewed.

Had I added his jaw to the list? I frantically sorted the list alphabetically in ascending order and
looked under the Js.

Nope. I'd missed the jaw. How could I have missed the jaw? My list was in serious jeopardy of being
incomplete. I needed to rectify that.

I put his jaw at the top of my list in bold, uppercase and italics. Not the separate, second list with The
Item as the only entry, because The Item most certainly deserved its own list, but the first list, which
was so long now that I was pretty sure I'd have to put it in a spreadsheet. So I could sort it faster
when I needed to look something up.

He looked over at the Christmas tree in the living room as he chewed.

His jaw moved. The earth moved. I was pretty sure his jaw had just spawned my first orgasm in days.
I considered yelling out 'Kings of Leeeeeeoooooon' in a breathy voice, but clenched my thighs
together instead. Maybe he hadn't been kidding about the band thing after all. Or maybe it was just
the power of suggestion.

I added three asterisks after the word jaw at the top of the list.

"Is something missing from under the tree?" he asked.

Damn. I'd forgotten to do the re-wrapping. I was too busy snooping. I couldn't put much past him.

"Robbers broke into our house while I was resting," I explained, trying to put something past him.

"Huh! You'd think they would have gone for the electronics," Sex said, perplexed.

"They were robbers from the eighteenth century. They didn't know how to use electronics," I
explained in greater detail.

"Really? Time travelers then? Robber time travelers from the eighteenth century? We don't get many
of those in Forks." He shook his head in amazement as he took another bite of noodles.

His jaw moved again. The earth moved again. I was going to have to yell out the name of a band. I
couldn't hold it in. "Bare Naked Laaaaaaadies," I said in a loud, breathy voice.

Sex looked at me curiously with his green kitchen eyes. I liked his green bedroom eyes better.

"The robbers were bare naked ladies?" he asked.

"Why yes, bare naked time travelling lady robbers from the eighteenth century," I explained in too
much detail.

He shook his head again. "I'll have to put a better lock on the door. You're the only naked lady I want
in the house."

His green kitchen eyes were growing on me.

He reached across the table and took my fingers in his. I looked at his long, nimble already-on-the-list
fingers and knew what I wanted to ask about next.

"What's your favourite position?" I asked, trying to distract him from the missing gift under the tree
and the too-much-detail lie to cover it up. I considered showing him my boobs, but that trick was
getting old. I needed some new tricks.

"In football or baseball?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows. I checked the list under the Es. Yup.
The eyebrows were already there. I put them in bold and underline.

"In sex."

"Well, let's see. Any position that involves the two of us together."

I couldn't eat, because he was holding the fingers of my good hand. I couldn't hold my chopsticks in
the other.

"Here, let me help," he said. He took a spring roll and held it up so I could take a bite of it off his
chopsticks. He watched my teeth tear a piece off the side.

His green kitchen eyes suddenly turned into green bedroom eyes, even though we were still in the
kitchen.

"What's my favourite position?" I asked licking my lips. I knew they were second on his list. His eyes
followed. I think I'd just found a new trick.

"It's hard to say. We've tried so many. I'm not sure if you have a favourite."

"How many?" I said as he fed me a small piece of chicken from his fingers. No chopsticks. He was also
learning new tricks.

I may have accidentally bitten his finger and then licked it a little before taking the chicken in my
mouth.

"A lot. Except the ones you can do in zero gravity."

"We should probably try those too," I said as I chewed. "Next time we're in space."

"We probably should," he agreed amicably as he watched me chew.

I shook my head "No thanks," as he offered me more chicken. "I'm confused," I said.

"By the chicken? Or the number of positions?" He took a bite and started to chew.

I could no longer watch him chew. A girl can only take so much. I clenched my thighs closely together
and stared at the piano.

I had a plan. Not the apron plan. A different plan. It was a good plan. It was more diabolical than the
apron plan.

"No, by how we had sex on the piano," I responded.

"Why are you confused?"

"About how we did it exactly."

"How we had sex on the piano?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was sitting on the bench and you started kissing me and then you pulled me over to the side
and hopped up on the top of the piano and then I hopped up there too."

"I don't get it."

"Which part?"

"The hopping part."

"Me hopping or you hopping?"

"Either." I walked over to the piano and stood by the side of it. "So was I already naked or was I
dressed when I got here to the side. Because you didn't explain that part."

"Oh. We were both dressed at the bench, but when you pulled me over to the side of the piano by
my tie, our clothes started coming off and then we were both naked when we hopped on top."

"I'm not sure I'm getting this." I said with a deeply puzzled look on my face. I tapped a finger on my
cheek to show my puzzlement. I thought about adding a line about being puzzled, but thought that
might be a little over the top.

I wasn't sure if he was going to fall for this trick. This trick was part of the plan. The new diabolical
plan.

"So we started here, right." I straddled the piano bench. "But I wasn't naked yet."

"Nope."

"Was my shirt undone or off or what?"

"Uh, let me see. I think by that point I'd taken off your shirt."

"Like this?" I asked as I took off my shirt.

"Yup like that." He had stopped chewing. "Your bra too," he added.

Something told me Sex had a few tricks of his own. He might even have a plan of his own. It might
even be diabolical.

"Like this?" I asked as I took my bra off and twirled it around in my fingers. I flipped it over onto the
Christmas tree.

"Yup. Like that." He put his chopsticks down.

"Was I straddling you? Like I am this bench?"

"Pretty much. Only you were leaning back a bit more. And moaning."

I leaned back a bit more and moaned. "Like that?"

He nodded.

"Was your shirt on or off?" I asked.

"It came off when you took if off."

"How would that have worked exactly, could you show me?" I asked innocently. "I'm ... puzzled."

Sex took off his shirt, leaving his tie on, and threw it onto the couch. "Kind of like that."

"Oh, I think I get it now," I said. "So I was completely naked, by the time I got to here?" I walked over
to the side of the piano.

"No. Uh. Yeah. Completely. And I think you were still moaning and maybe touching yourself."

"Ooooooh," I said as I ran my good hand over my breasts for a minute.

He watched intently with his green eyes and perfect lips.

"So I took my pants off or you took them off?" I asked.

"I did."

"Like this?" I tried to peel my jeans down but had trouble with one hand. "Ouch." I said breathily. "I
may have hurt my arm just now. I might just need a doctor."

My very polite, very handsome doctor husband came to check my cast and then helped me with my
jeans. "I'm pretty sure it was faster than that," he said. "More like this." He yanked the jeans down
my legs and I stepped out of them. He threw them across the room. They landed on the kitchen
counter.

"Oh. So was I wearing a thong like this?" I asked as I turned around to show him the back of my
thong. "Or was it a different color?"

He wasn't speaking now. He yanked down my thong. I stepped out of it and he threw it across the
room. It ended up on the top of the Christmas tree.

"Was I still moaning when I pulled you by your tie?"

I pulled him closer by his tie and moaned.

"Uhhhh," he moaned back as our bodies came in contact with each other.

"I'm still a little puzzled." I tried the finger to cheek thing again. "About how I got your pants off. And
your tie."

He took my good hand and placed it on the zipper of his pants as he took off his tie.

"Oh," I said and unzipped his pants. He took them off and kicked them across the room with his tie.

He was wearing black boxer briefs. I knew I should have burned them. There was no way I could get
them off with one hand. I moved my hand around to his ass and tried to pull them off that way.

He peeled them off and threw them onto the Christmas tree. It was a good thing we hadn't turned
on the lights on the Christmas tree.

He pulled my hips against his. I leaned back on the side of the piano with my good elbow and looked
up at him.

Apparently, he wasn't immune. And neither was The Item.

I needed to come up with a better name for The Item. A bigger name. A harder name.

"Edward," I whispered as his hands slid down my hips and pulled me tighter against him.

"Hm?" he asked. His hands were now on my ass. His eyes were on my boobs. His lips were moving
toward mine.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

Edward pressed his lips against my lips with a little tongue thrown in for good measure. I wasn't
thinking about lists. Or names. I wasn't thinking about anything but how good it felt to have his lips
on mine.

He lifted me onto the piano and then hopped up there with me. Sometimes diabolical plans work.
This one certainly had.

X was lying next to me in our bed. I decided to just call him X now, because what we had just done on
the piano, the rug and then the bed was X rated. And probably had no effect on the environment. It
did, however, have quite an effect on my legs.

I couldn't feel anything from the waist down. The sex and the Sex were both just that good. I could,
however, feel X's legs. They were tangled up with mine.

Wait, I was mistaken. X's fingers were skimming across my knee. I could definitely feel that.
Sometimes it's good to be mistaken.

"You don't have to work tomorrow do you?" I asked. "On a Saturday?"

"No," he said as he as he ran his fingers up the inside of my thigh. "How do you feel about a BMW?"
he asked kissing and sucking on the side of my neck. "That's better than a tank, right?"

His fingers moved up between my thighs. And then back down.

I moved his fingers back up between my thighs and he started rubbing.

"And we could get the windows tinted," he whispered as his lips moved up to my ear, nibbling and
licking.

His fingers were moving in a circular motion between my thighs. Rubbing and pinching and teasing.

Sometimes it's very, very good to be mistaken.

"Bella?" he breathed into my ear.

His fingers stopped as he waited for my answer.

"Sure whatever, don't stop." I said as I squeezed my eyes closed.

An opposable thumb was now was rubbing between my thighs. The long, nimble fingers were inside
me.

"I think that's a good compromise," he said as his lips moved down my neck.

X had his own bag of tricks. They might even be better than mine. His plan was more diabolical. His
plan had also worked.

"What's at the top of your list?" I asked.

I kissed the hair on his chest. I kissed the hair on his stomach. I'm pretty sure I kissed everything on
the list in descending order. Not alphabetically. I didn't want to forget anything. That's why I kept the
list.

"What?" he said after a minute.

"On top?"

"Weren't you already on top?" he answered with a question. "On the piano?"

"No, your list. What's on the top?" He was wrong. I could be patient. I had also learned from his
tricks. That's why I was classified amongst creatures with opposable thumbs.

"Your eyes," he whispered. "They were the first things I noticed about you. When I first saw them I
thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

I might have given my husband a blowjob. It wasn't accidental. It was one of my best tricks. It was all
part of the plan.

"What happened to my pajama pants?" X asked.

He was standing naked in front of his dresser drawers holding up two pair of cotton pajama pants
with stretched out waistbands and no ties.

There was a bite mark on one of his ass cheeks. I planned to give him a matching bite mark on the
other ass cheek. I just had to get him back in bed.

"It was the robbers," I explained sitting up and dropping the blankets from my chest. "They needed
the strings to weave baskets to go on the front of their get-away bikes. So they had a place to put the
gift they stole."

"They didn't use a time travel machine to get away? They rode bikes?" he said turning to me and
giving me a better view of Sir. That was my new name for The Item. I figured it was appropriate since
it kept standing up and saluting me.

I saluted back. "Yes, Sir," I said. "Their time travel machines were shaped like bikes. With baskets.
Made from pajama pant strings. I'll bet if you check with the neighbours, you'll find they are missing
their pajama pant strings as well."

X slid naked under the covers and pulled me over next to him and turned out the light. Sir was on a
reconnaissance mission and I was determined to make the mission a success. Sometimes it takes two
people working together to ensure the successful completion of a plan.

"I would have thought they'd just wear the pajama pants so they wouldn't have to ride their bikes
naked," he whispered, nibbling my neck. "And they could have put the gift in the pocket of the
pajama pants and saved all the time of weaving the baskets from the pajama pant strings."

"Stupid robbers," I muttered with a sigh.

Chapter Five: XXX

Momma Sex was stunning. Her hair was caramel. Her lips were cherries. Her eyes were blueberries.

It was no wonder Daddy Sex kept devouring her with his eyes. I hoped Triple X would still want to
devour me like that in thirty years.

I had taken to calling my husband 'Triple X' because in roman numerals, the three Xs represented the
approximate number of times we'd had sex so far this weekend. In addition, the numbers indicated
the rating of the aforementioned sex.

"We thought it best not to overwhelm you, dear," Momma Sex said warmly. "That's why we didn't
come visit you at the hospital. Too many Cullens can be a bit much." She smiled and kissed me on the
cheek.

"Thank you, Esme," I said. I wouldn't have known her name, except that Triple X had introduced us.
Right after we put on some clothes. Triple X's hands had been all over me when I'd first seen Momma
Sex's caramel hair through the window of the kitchen door. I recognized her hair from the video. Not
the sex video.

I was baffled as to why we didn't have curtains over the window on the kitchen door. Maybe the
eighteenth century robbers had stolen them.

"How many Cullens are there?" I asked.

"Edward hasn't told you?" she responded with her cherry lips rounded in surprise.

Triple X had been a little busy. I had been a little busy. I had been a little busy putting parts of Triple X
in my own rounded lips.

"One step at a time," Triple X said.

"Besides the two of you, we have two other married children with spouses," Momma Sex explained.

"What a great family," I said. The Family Sex. They were perfect.

"I hope you're feeling better," she said as she patted my good arm. "Even with a black eye, you're as
beautiful as ever. Isn't she Edward?"

I wondered if the Cullens came with a family instruction manual that included arm patting as the first
item. They all seemed to stick to the manual. Even Triple X stuck to the manual. However, Triple X
had clearly also consulted another manual—a sex manual. I take that back. Triple X wrote that
manual.

"More beautiful than any woman has a right to be," Triple X agreed very politely.

Momma Sex was being polite. Very polite. Daddy Sex was also being polite.

Momma and Daddy Sex had just seen the backside of their not-so-little boy guiding his love boat into
my love canal as I sat on top of the kitchen counter with my legs wrapped around his waist moaning,
"Ooooooh Captain! My Captain!"

Momma and Daddy Sex would make very good poker players. Momma and Daddy Sex would
probably never view a Walt Whitman poem again in the same way. Momma and Daddy Sex would
probably never eat anything off our kitchen counters.

The Item subsequently known as Sir had taken on a variety of new names which fit a whole naval
military theme. Sir especially liked the name 'Captain Cock' and frequently saluted when he heard me
say it. Sometimes he liked me to call him 'Captain', for short. Even though he was not at all short
himself. Just to be clear. He did have his own list, after all.

The Captain had done a lot of saluting this weekend. The Captain had led a lot reconnaissance
missions. They had all been successful.

Momma and Daddy Sex probably hadn't seen the Captain since he was just a Private. He'd grown
since then. A lot.

On Saturday, I wondered out loud if Triple X minded that I didn't call him by his real name. He
reminded me that he had heard his real name on a regular basis about thirty times on the weekend.
"Oh, Edward, oh, oh, Edward oh, Edward oh. Edward-ooooh!" he said to remind me.

Usually on the end of the Edward chant, I tried to mix it up a little. Triple X had suggestions. I seemed
to be quite susceptible to his power of suggestion. To yell the names of Presidents of the United
States who had beards in a breathy voice had been his latest suggestion.

"Oh, Edward, oh, oh, Edward oh, Edward oh. Edward-ooooh! Aaaaabraaaaahaaam Lincoooooooln!"
had been my latest chant.

Given our ability to mix it up a little, I was pretty sure we'd still be devouring each other in thirty
years.

Daddy Sex had once again gotten an eyeful of my boobs through the kitchen window without
curtains. It was a good thing he was a doctor. And had seen a lot of boobs. I was pretty sure Daddy
Sex could pick my boobs out of a line up by now. Daddy Sex had probably named my boobs by now.

Momma Sex had now also seen my boobs. I considered just introducing them to the whole family.
Possibly by putting a photo of them in the Cullen family instruction manual.

Momma and Daddy Sex were lucky they hadn't peeked through the un-curtained window on the
kitchen door on Saturday night when the Captain had entered my airlock while I was down on my
elbows and knees in the middle of the kitchen floor. In all fairness, the Captain had asked for my
permission to come aboard first.

"We do brunch with the whole family every Sunday," Esme said. "Edward didn't mention it?"

Triple X's divine mouth had been a little too busy all weekend to do much talking. I'd made sure of
that. Monday was approaching and he'd have to go back to work. I had to make the most of our time
together by engaging in intensive military training.

Momma Sex looked at the Christmas tree, still decorated with underwear.

"That's a novel idea." She said politely. "Very colourful. Isn't it Carlisle?"

Daddy Sex said, "Indubitably, Esme. We should put our underthings on the Christmas tree every
year." And then he winked.

The Cullens were indeed very polite people. Very attractive people. Very polite, attractive people
who knew how to be very polite and attractive in the most awkward situations. And they knew how
to wink. It was probably in the manual.

We followed Momma and Daddy Sex in our own car to the restaurant where I met the rest of the
Cullens. They were all polite and attractive. They had obviously read the manual.

Rosalie Cullen, who was married to Triple X's brother, Emmett Cullen, was more than attractive, she
was ultra attractive. And less polite. Alice Whitlock, who was Triple X's sister, was married to Jasper
Whitlock, was more than polite. She gave me a hug and told me she'd missed me and that she was
my best friend. Jasper Whitlock was also attractive and polite, but with a Southern accent.

At the restaurant, Daddy Sex brushed his hand over Momma Sex's ass. Emmett Cullen pinched
Rosalie's ass and Jasper Whitlock had his hand on Alice's boob. Triple X had his hand up the skirt of
my dress under the table and was tickling my inner thigh.

I understood why I was such a good fit for the Family Sex I'd married into. So why hadn't I been given
a copy of the manual?

As much as I was enjoying brunch with the Cullens—and I was—I was more anxious for Triple X's
fingers to continue what they had started.

His fingers were still on my list. My list now had a table of contents and an appendix, but I was pretty
sure it was complete. I had made a thorough inspection of all of his body parts and deemed them all
list-worthy.

When Triple X and I were driving home in the Lexus, I had my hand wrapped around his heat seeking
missile, preparing it for launch. Being the responsible upstanding citizen that he is, Triple X guided
the Lexus over to the side of the road and helped me carefully into the back. I laid on the seat with
my knees slung over his shoulders and guided his missile home where we mutually detonated a
highly charged explosion.

My sexy underwear may have ended up in the pocket of his jacket.

The Lexus was indeed comfy, especially the back seat. At the moment of impact I could have cared
less if the Lexus was environmentally friendly or not.

And that's when I met my father, Charlie, the Forks police chief.

He had recognized the Lexus and waited until it had stopped rocking and shaking. Then he politely
knocked on the window.

I recognized his mustache from the video. Not the sex video. His mustache twitched as he smiled
beneath it.

"How are you Bells?" he asked. "Edward?"

Triple X was polite even though his shirt buttons were still undone. Luckily, my boobs were covered.
Unluckily, I'd decided to try on some red cherry lipstick a la Momma Sex and it was all over Triple X's
face and neck. It was all over the Captain too, but luckily, Triple X had had time to zip up his pants.

Triple X introduced us.

"It's nice to meet you," I said, even though I was pretty sure we had met before. And that he had
probably changed my diapers and seen my lady bits when they were still baby bits.

"I wanted to come visit you, but we thought it better to give you a little time," said Charlie as he
leaned down and spoke through the window. "But Edward has been keeping me up to date on your
progress. I'm glad you're doing so well."

"Thank you," I said politely. I considered winking or arm patting but wasn't sure which was
appropriate in this situation. I needed a damn manual.

"When you're feeling a bit better, stop by the house and I'll take you through some family photos.
Maybe that will spark your memory," he suggested.

It was a good suggestion. Triple X nodded. I nodded. Even Charlie's mustache nodded.

"Well, drive safely, now," he said as he patted the top of the Lexus. "And thanks for pulling over your
vehicle in a safe manner." He winked. "Take good care of my little girl, Edward."

Then he patted my good arm. Arm pat. Check. Wink. Check. Polite and attractive. Check and check.
He definitely had the manual. He must have been given a copy at the wedding.

"I will do that," Triple X answered as he squeezed my knee. Was the knee squeeze in the manual?

"Triple X, when did you fall in love with me?" I asked.

"I thought I was Sex."

"You are sex on roman numeral steroids."

"Oh. So I'm SeXXX?"

"You certainly are."

He put his hand over mine on the kitchen table and smiled at me.

"Well ..." he said. I averted my eyes from his jaw as he took a bite, chewed and then swallowed. My
thighs automatically clamped together. "... I probably fell in love with you the first time I saw you, but
it really took root when you put your hand on my ass," he answered. "In my office. While I was
removing your cast."

"Which cast? The hand or the foot?"

"The hand."

"When I hit my boyfriend, Jacob?"

Edward raised his eyebrows. I knew they were already on the list, but they were definitely
noteworthy. I considered giving them a name. I decided to call them 'The Twins'.

"You remember that?"

"Yes, he tried to touch my boob."

"So you hit him? What about the foot? Do you remember that?"

"James. My karate instructor. He tried to touch my ass."

"You remember that too?" The Twins were surprised.

"I kicked him in the head."

"You're very flexible. I admire that about you."

"You admired that about me a lot last night."

"I certainly did."

"When did I fall in love with you?'

"I'm not sure, but I think it was about the same time. We had an instant connection. Kind of like we
do now." He smiled at me. Not his crooked smile nor his smirk, but his real smile. And I'm pretty sure
I felt the connection.

"I just needed to ditch the boyfriend," I said.

"I think the punch to the head accomplished that."

"When did you propose?"

"I think the first time was in the back of the Lexus," he said. You looked beautiful with your hair
splayed out over the back seat and your feet up in the air ..." He winked. Edward had read the
manual. Why did everyone have a manual but me? " ... and I knew you were the woman for me. It's
also one of the few times we've had sex in the back of the Lexus when you weren't in a cast."

"You said 'the first time'?"

"Well, the second time was a little more formal. With a ring."

"Did we pick out the ring together?"

"We did. And then we had sex."

Somehow that didn't surprise me.

I looked down at my finger. I didn't have a ring.

"Where's my ring?"

Triple X had learned from my tricks. He also had opposable thumbs. Triple X tried to put something
past me.

"Nuclear meltdown," he explained.

"My ring was in a nuclear meltdown?" I asked, perplexed. "We don't have many of those in Forks."

"It was a nuclear meltdown below the surface of the earth. In the inner core. It's very hot," he
explained in greater detail.

"Huh! Imagine that. How did my ring get down to the inner core of the earth?"

"There was a shaft," he explained. "In the earth's crust. Your ring fell down there."

"That's a little unusual don't you think?"

"Very unusual. The odds are very low," he said with a look of puzzlement on his face. Even The Twins
were puzzled.

"Hm," I said. "I hope your golf clubs don't fall down the shame shaft."

"I hope they don't either," he answered. "Then we wouldn't have an excuse to have sex on the golf
course."

He had not only gotten me to agree to a BMW, but now he had made sure I wouldn't do anything to
his golf clubs. He had some good tricks.

"How long do I have to wear this cast? I'm anxious to brush up on my golf game."

"It shouldn't be too much longer. Your arm seems to be healing nicely. Your stitches will be coming
out soon. You'll be back to normal in no time."

"What about my memory? What if it never comes back?"

"Well, then, you keep asking me questions. And I keep answering them. And we keep building new
memories," he said patiently. His green eyes were as warm as his smile. I liked his warm green eyes.
Almost as much as his bedroom eyes.

"We made a lot of memories this weekend."

"Some of our best," he agreed.

"Do you think there's such a thing as too much sex?" I asked.

"Don't be silly, Bella," he answered. "We're still on our honeymoon. I'm pretty sure that's normal."

"You think over thirty times on a weekend is normal?" I asked. "Medically speaking."

"Perhaps a little above the average," he said in his doctor voice. His doctor voice made me want to
play doctor.

"Are you tired of my questions?"

"No, I don't mind reliving the memories."

"Do you think I'm obsessed with sex?"

"How many men do you want to have sex with?"

"Just the one I'm having sex with."

"Then, no. Medically speaking."

"Another question?"

He nodded.

"Why don't you ask me questions?" I asked.

"Hm. Probably because I already know most of the answers."

"Okay. What are the odds that you're going to be putting your shaft in my hot inner core tonight?"

"The odds are very, very high on that one."

"One more question. Is there anywhere in this house where we haven't had sex yet?"

Triple X, stroked his jaw with his long, nimble fingers and I almost had to shout the name of a
President with a beard.

"Perhaps the attic," he thought as he stroked his jaw some more. He watched me watching him
stroking.

I decided it was time he used those fingers to stroke elsewhere. He was way ahead of me.

"Come here," he said softly in his velvet voice. "Let's make some more memories."

I pushed back my chair and came over and straddled him in his chair. His lips pressed against mine
and then moved down my neck. His hand pushed my wrap around dress out of the way and then
removed my bra.

His long, nimble fingers stroked my nipples as his lips nibbled my neck. He rubbed his jaw against
mine.

"Are you sure about the tank?" he whispered in my ear. "The Captain really likes tanks."

Triple X was up to something. He hadn't used the anatomically correct name. He had used his jaw. He
definitely had a plan.

"Mmmmmm," I moaned as his fingers, lips and jaw worked their magic. "No tank."

I undid his dress shirt. I unzipped his pants and found the Captain at full attention. Triple X still had
my underwear in his pocket from our military manoeuvres in the car. Unfortunately, the Captain was
trapped in the web of some black boxer briefs. Damn all boxer briefs. A pox on all boxer briefs. Death
to all boxer briefs. I made a quick plan. A diabolical plan. To be executed after I had sex with my
husband.

Triple X kissed me with his perfect pouty lips and his lovely tongue did a little reconnaissance of its
own inside my mouth and on my breasts. He kicked off his pants and boxer briefs and then placed
me right over the Captain.

"No tank," he whispered as his opposable thumb started rubbing. "How about armour plating
instead?"

"Please," I said. "Edward." My knees were shaking.

"Hmm?" he murmured in my ear as his long nimble fingers and jaw returned to their mission and he
lowered me onto his weapon of mass seduction and continued his rubbing. "Armour?"

The Captain formerly known as The Item, currently being referred to as the weapon, still had his own
list. I added a pirate graphic and a patch over one of the Captain's eyes. It only seemed appropriate.
It was military strategy at its best—a coup. He had a man inside. I raised my white flag.

"Yes. Oh Yes, yes. Oh, Edward, oh, oh, Edward oh, Edward oh. Edward-ooooh! Ulysess S.
Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant!"

Triple X had been helping me bathe each night and wash my hair, wrapping my cast in plastic to keep
it dry. It was one of the best times of my day. It was one of the things that had made me fall in love
with him.

Triple X didn't ever get in the bath with me. No matter what tricks or plans I tried, it was always the
same.

"Triple X, why don't you get in the bath with me," I asked.

"I will after your cast is off," he answered.

"But can't you do this for me and then get in the bath with me after?"

"I want this to just be about taking care of you. It's one of the ways I can show you that I love you."

"Have you always washed my hair at night?"

"We usually wash each other's."

"Oh. Why do you want me to have armour plating on my car?"

He didn't smirk, which was good because my cast was very close to his noggin.

"Bella, when they brought you in after the accident, it almost killed me. I don't ever want to see you
hurt again."

I may have accidentally splashed my face so he didn't see the tears in my eyes.

"What did you think when I couldn't remember you?"

"I thought you might not be in love with me anymore. And that almost killed me too. But then you
started talking about my ass and I knew you were on the right track."

I watched his ass walk out of the bathroom. It came back in a few minutes later.

"Where did you go? What were you doing?"

Now he smirked, but I was still feeling all warm and fuzzy from his previous comments so I didn't hit
him with my cast.

"It's a surprise," he said. "I have a plan."

"It is ... diabolical?" I asked.

"It is."

"What is the plan?" I asked.

"I plan to make sure we stay married for a very, very long time." It sounded like a good plan.

"Does the plan involve sex?" I asked.

"Lots of it."

I liked this plan already.

"In the attic? On the piano? On kitchen counter?" I wondered.

"I thought we'd try something a little different and have sex on the bed."

When he carried me back into the bedroom there were rose petals on the bed. And champagne on
the night table.

I might have given my husband another blowjob. He liked that trick. He said it was one of my best
tricks. He might have yelled out the name of a band.

"What happened to my boxer briefs?" Edward asked.

I decided to start calling my husband Edward. I thought I'd mix it up a little.

He was standing naked in front of his dresser drawers holding up two pair of boxer briefs that had
large holes cut out of the crotches. His hair was wet, his eyes were green, his lips were perfect.

I might have accidentally cut the crotches out of his boxer briefs while he was in the shower so he'd
have to go commando. It was much easier that way, given my cast.

There were two bite marks on each of his ass cheeks. I planned to add to them.

"Moths," I explained sitting up in bed.

"Moths?" he queried quizzically.

He put his hand through the rather large hole in the crotch of one pair of briefs.

"Those would have to be some rather large moths," he said, perplexed.

"They were genetically engineered super moths," I explained.

"Really? Genetically engineered? Funny how they only attacked the crotch of my boxers and nothing
else in the house."

"They were female genetically engineered super crotch moths," I explained in further detail. "They
are only attracted to your male crotch scent."

"Male crotch scent-seeking female genetically engineered super crotch moths? We don't get many of
those in Forks." He shook his head in amazement. "How do you think they got in the house?"

"The vortex in the attic." I explained in too much detail.

He shook his head again. "I'll have to make sure to board up the attic after we have sex there. The
only female of any species I want to near my crotch is you."

And this is why I was in love with my husband.

Edward got dressed for work without his boxer briefs. He was going commando. His weren't the only
plans that worked.

"You'd think the moths would eventually run out of food. I mean, if they are that large there has to
be a limited number of boxer briefs crotches per household. They'd be better off attacking a factory
that manufacturers boxer briefs," he said and then kissed me goodbye.

"Stupid moths," I muttered against his perfect lips.

Chapter Six: Sexward

I was watching the wedding video again in the living room when my cell phone rang. I looked to see
who it was. The display said, "The Man with the Golden Gun". I knew it must be my husband.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked.

"Watching our wedding video."

"You watch that a lot."

"I was hoping it would help me remember. Now that I can match people's names to the faces."

"And?"

"Nothing."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Me too. It's not so much them I want to remember as you. And everything leading up to our
marriage."

"I can tell you more about that if you want." His velvet voice was so smooth. I shivered. It was
golden. Along with his gun.

"That would be nice."

"I was wondering if you could stop by my office at lunch time," Edward said.

"For sex?" I moved the cell phone to my other hand so my cast wasn't in the way. Stupid cast.

"For lunch."

"But not for sex?"

"Well, it might be nice if you could you could yell out my real name again. Just so I don't forget it.
And possibly the name of an animated cartoon character," he suggested.

I was always open to his suggestions. This was a good suggestion. A host of animated characters
flitted through my mind. Singing. In high squeaky voices.

"Hm. That could be interesting." I was referring to the animated characters. Not the sex. That would
be amazing. It always was.

"I have a new office chair. You sent it to me right before your accident."

Somehow I wasn't surprised at that. Damn, I was good.

"So that's why I was coming to your office to have sex with you? To try out your new office chair?"

"Yes. I haven't used it yet. It looks very comfy."

I thought about the back of his Lexus. I liked to be in comfy places when I had sex with my husband.
But sometimes I liked to be in not so comfy places too, just to mix it up a little. Like in the bottom of
the closet. Under the kitchen table. On top of the back deck railing. In the garage on top of the Lexus.
Atop the fireplace. You get the picture.

"Wasn't your old office chair comfy?" I asked.

"It was, but it had arms."

Arms would definitely get in the way of comfy sex with my husband. In his office chair. At his office.
My mind was already there.

"Huh. I wonder why that would make a difference." I tried to sound puzzled. I even made my
eyebrows look puzzled. But he couldn't see that over the phone.

"Maybe while you're here we could find out. And take the chair out for her maiden voyage."

Edward was with me on the whole naval military thing. I'm pretty sure he secretly loved the whole
Captain thing. Edward did like to take charge. I secretly loved it when Edward took charge.

"You, me and CC?" I asked.

"CC?"

"Captain Cock."

"Well, wherever I go, he goes. We're a package deal."

"And a very nice package it is."

As far as packages went, it was pretty much a six out of six. I considered holding up score card with
perfect combined scores for both artistic performance and technical prowess.

"Isn't CC the roman numeral for two hundred?" he asked.

"I thought we should aim high on the sex this week. Since I'm feeling better."

"Two hundred is a lot of roman numerals. I'm not sure that's possible. Even on roman numeral
steroids. Medically speaking. Where would we find the time?"

"Maybe you should quit your job."

"And do what for a living?"

"Be a full time pirate."

"And look for treasure?" he asked.

We were definitely on the same wavelength. I added a mustache and beaded braids to the pirate
graphic on The Item's own list to look like Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Booty." I answered.

"There's only one booty I want, and it's yours. You just need to bring it to my office. At lunch time."

And this is why I was head over heels in love with my husband.

"Will you let me walk your plank?" I asked. "If I come to your office?"

"The odds of that are ... Well, it's a sure bet."

"Shall I bring my scabbard and parrot?"

"Do you have a scabbard and parrot?"

"Doesn't everyone have a scabbard and parrot?"

"Bring whatever you'd like. I'll send a taxi by to pick you up, unless you'd like me to buy you a tank.
We could upgrade from the armour plated BMW," he suggested hopefully.

"No tank, Edward." I was still resisting this suggestion. It was pretty much the only one of his
suggestions that I wasn't willing to follow.

"You called me Edward." He sounded surprised. I'll bet The Twins were surprised too.

"Uh huh. Isn't that your name?"

"Yes, but it has nothing to do with sex."

"It has everything to do with sex. The name Edward Cullen is synonymous with sex."

"Hm. Still, I think I might kind of miss the sex names if you just call me Edward, apart from in the heat
of passion, of course."

"Well, maybe we can find a compromise."

I decided to call my husband Sexward. And sometimes Edward. I thought it was a good compromise.

"Compromise is good. Being in a compromising position is better. Just knock on the back door at
lunch time. I'll be waiting," he said.

I finished watching the wedding video. They were all there—the Cullen Family Sex and Charlie. They
were all so happy. Edward and I were happy. I just wished I could remember it.

Then I watched the sex video again. Now that I was better acquainted with my husband I was even
more amazed at the video. He had talents he hadn't even shown me yet. Positions we hadn't tried.
He was holding out on me.

I looked through my sexy underwear drawers. I had lots of those, but I wanted something different.
Something special.

I went to my closet and looked through my clothes. At the end of the row of hanging clothes, I found
a white zippered bag. It was my white wedding dress. That might work for another time, when I was
role-playing as a virgin, but I needed something pirate-like. Something pirate wench-like.

I went up to the attic. I expected it to be attic-like. It wasn't. It was quite nice. There were boxes. And
couches. I spent some time straightening up the attic. So we could have sex there.

I found pictures from my childhood and all through my school years. There were pictures of Charlie.
And pictures of a woman who I assumed was my mother.

And then I found the pictures of Edward. As a baby. Naked. With a tiny little Captain. He was so cute.
The Captain was so cute. The Captain was no longer cute. The Captain was all grown up and
demanded respect. I intended to give it to him. Repeatedly.

And then I found a box of costumes.

Some were Edward's. Some were mine. Naughty nurse ... Jeanie in a bottle ... Sexy French maid. ...
Cowgirl ... Princess Leia. Those were my costumes. Not Edward's. Just to be clear. But not quite what
I was looking for.

Finally I found it—a pirate wench costume. Or half of one anyway. Okay, maybe not half. There were
thigh-high boots. And a hat. And a wide black belt with a scabbard.

I took them downstairs and put them on. And nothing else. And then I put on my trench coat.

The taxi driver had the heat turned up too high. It was hot.

I adjusted the weapon at my waist concealed under my trench coat. I'd much rather be adjusting the
weapon below Sexward's waist.

I might have opened my trench coat a little. Just to cool off. As I thought about Sexward's concealed
weapon.

The taxi driver might have been looking at me in the rear view mirror.

The two paramedics dropped me off at my husband's office. I was fine. They seemed to know where I
was headed as soon as they saw the trench coat.

Then they drove the taxi driver to the hospital. He had a long gash over his eye. He would make it.

The taxi was wrapped around a tree. It wouldn't make it.

I knocked at the back door and Sexward opened it immediately and led me into his office, locking the
door to the hall as he showed me the new chair.

It was black. I liked black. It was the color of most of Sexward's boxer briefs. It was the color of the
patch over a pirate's eye. Some pirates can do an awful lot with one eye.

Sexward was wearing boxer briefs under his dress pants. It was the first place I looked. Sometimes a
girl has to look. It was pretty much always the first place I looked when I saw Sexward.

"You're wearing boxer briefs. I thought you were going commando," I commented. Something was
afoot. It was out of my hands. And the something was as big as a foot. And should be in my hands.

"Don't worry, I'll take them off before I come home. So we can get right to work on the two hundred
roman numerals."

He was cleverer than I thought. He was a worthy opponent. Plus, he had a big weapon.

"Where did you get them?"

"Well, you don't remember this, but a band of roving underwear gypsies with butterflies tattooed on
their asses burned my last ones. This was before the genetically engineered moths ate holes in the
crotches of my new ones, so I keep a few extra pair in my car. Just in case of some kind of natural or
unnatural disaster. Forks seems to be a Mecca for abnormal activity when it comes to my
underwear."

"Puzzling." I shook my head with a deeply puzzled look on my face. I tapped a finger on my cheek to
show my puzzlement.

Roving underwear gypsies with butterfly tattoes? Damn, I was good.

I could still work with this. Even though Sexward wasn't going commando. A girl needs to be flexible.
Especially when she's having sex with Edward Cullen.

I helped Sexward let the Captain out of the brig. He was happy to be set free. He looked at me with
his one eye. He might have winked at me. Even the damn Captain had a manual?

"Ahoy there, Captain!" I said as I dropped my trench coat to the floor. And my knees to the floor.

I thought it was nice that the Captain saluted me. He even patted my good arm. I thanked the
Captain profusely with my lips.

And then SexWard pulled me up and onto the chair. "C'mere my buxom beauty. You may not have
brought your parrot, but you brought your spectacular doubloons."

He put his hands and mouth all over my doubloons. Sexward really likes my doubloons. I was
surprised they weren't at the top of his list.

We christened the chair. I didn't use my weapon. But I was very flexible. SexWard used his weapon.
Sexward was well versed in the use of a weapon.

Sexward might have whispered, "Thar she blows!" as I was yelling, "Oh, Edward, oh, oh, harder baby,
faster, deeper, oh. Iaaaaggggoooooo!"

I had decided on an animated cartoon character. I thought it made up for not actually having a
parrot.

True to his word, Sexward was going commando and standing just inside our kitchen door. I looked
at the uncovered window on the kitchen door. I looked at the Captain peeking out with his one eye
from Sexward's unzipped pants. The Captain, now being referred to as the weapon, was cocked and
loaded. And aiming right at me.

I kicked off my panties as Sexward hoisted me up and impaled me with his weapon against the
kitchen door.

It was a good plan. Anyone looking through the window would only see my head bobbing up and
down and not my boobs. Although the bobbing made me feel like some kind of animated character.
Up and down. Bobbing. Bouncing and bobbing. Bouncing. Up and down. Bouncing harder and faster.

Sexward might have whispered, "Fire in the hole!" as I was yelling, "Oh, Edward, oh, baby, oh
Captain, oh, oh, oh, Tiiiiiiigggggggerrrrrrr!"

Sexward safely discharged his weapon in a confined space. The detonation was instant and
resounding. No animals were harmed in the blast. Especially not Tigger. He was merely an animated
character.

"Sexward, my wedding dress. It's missing." I was puzzled. It had been there this morning. I was truly
puzzled this time. I didn't even put a finger to my cheek.

I looked in the closet again.

"From?"

"My closet."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it was here this morning."

"Sexward? Is that my new name?" He changed the subject.

"Yes, it's a good compromise don't you think?"

"It's a good compromise. A little sex, a little Edward. I think it's a keeper." Sexward was taking off his
shirt. I had to look at his chest. I considered naming it. Something furry and soft. Maybe the name of
an animated character.

"Hm," I sighed as he unzipped his pants.

"You dropped something," he said.

"Did I? Where?"

"On the floor. You'll have to turn around to see it."

"Where?"

"You have to bend over to see it. Right. No, a little to the left … no."

"Maybe it's my wedding ring," I said as I bent over.

"Oh, I guess I was mistaken."

Damn, he was good. He was using my own tricks against me. He was definitely a worthy opponent. I
needed a weapon. I decided to use my ass as a weapon.

"The wedding dress?" I asked bending over again and turning so he could see my fantastic ass. "How
did it disappear from my closet?"

My plan worked. Edward came over to the closet. Now I needed to get him to open his mouth.

"The vortex. In the attic. It leads to an alternate universe where there is an Edward and Bella who
don't have sex. They need the wedding dress so they can get married," he explained as his hands
snaked around my waist.

"They don't have sex?" I said standing back up. "Is there something wrong with Edward's weapon? Is
it defective?"

"He's dead from the waist down."

I turned around and ran my hands down Sexward's soft fur. Like a lion. I considered naming it
'Simba'.

"But not from the waist up?"

"He's dead there too."

"So this Bella is marrying a dead man? No wonder they don't have sex."

I was confused. Maybe that was part of the plan. Stupid alternate universe.

"They're going to have sex after they're married," he explained.

"And then he'll come to life?"

"Well, dead men tell no tales, but I happen to know that he will come to life on their honeymoon and
then after he'll make her just like him."

"She'll be dead too? He'll kill her with sex?" Maybe this universe wasn't so different from ours after
all.

"Do you want to have sex? Right now? In the closet?" he asked.

"Are you going to kill me? With sex? Like alternate universe Edward?"

"No. I very much plan to bring you to life." He turned me back around.

Wait a minute. Sexward was up to something. He had a plan. Oh, right! My wedding dress. He had
distracted me with talk of dead men having sex. His plan was evil. But fascinating.

It was hard to think with his hands moving up my stomach toward my boobs. That was probably part
of his plan.

"Is there something you want to tell me first?" I asked as he squeezed my boobs.

"You have spectacular doubloons and a fantastic ass."

"Something else?"

"You smell good." His perfect lips were at my neck. His mouth was open. He was sucking on the back
of my neck.

There was something I wanted him to tell me. I had wanted him to open his mouth. Now, what was
it?

Edward tried a new trick.

"You know how much I love you right?" he whispered against my ear.

He put one hand on the front of my hip. He was up to something big. And it was pressing into my ass.
It was a good thing we had a big closet. So there was room.

"I'll help you look for your wedding dress in the closet. But we need to get down on our hands and
knees."

We did.

Edward was searching right behind me.

The captain started searching. The captain found what he was searching for.

I completely forgot what I had been searching for.

Edward was shampooing my hair as I leaned my head back in the tub.

Sometimes my plans don't go awry. This one hadn't. He was naked. He didn't have any boxers or
pajama pants.

"Bella," he said as he trailed his finger through the suds running down my back.

"Hm?" I answered.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"When I have sex with you, I feel very close to you," he said, resting his orgasmic jaw on his palm as
his elbow leaned on the side of the tub.

"You are very close to me. Very, very close. You couldn't get much closer."

"I'm glad I married you."

"I'm glad you did too," I figured it was time I asked a question. I hadn't asked one in a while. "Why is
the bathroom a sex-free zone?"

"Because the rest of the house isn't. We have to have a place to just talk and get to know each
other."

"I like talking with you in the bathroom," I said. I'd like having sex with him in the bathroom too. If it
weren't sex-free.

"Me too. It's very relaxed."

"Mmm," I said as I relaxed against his hand.

"I like having sex with you," he said.

"I can tell."

"I like bathing you and taking care of you."

"I like that too."

"I just wanted you to know."

"Thank you, Edward."

"You called me Edward again. I thought I was Sexward."

"Well, the bathroom is a sex-free zone."

He rinsed the shampoo out of my hair.

"Edward?" I asked. I thought I'd throw in another question.

"Yes."

"Have we talked about kids? Money? All that important stuff after sex?"

"Yup."

"And?"

"We're a go on kids. We have a budget that we both put together. And we've talked about sex. A lot.
But we've done it even more."

Somehow that didn't surprise me.

"The kids thing? What did we decide? Just so I know."

"In a few years. We thought three."

"What do we like to do together?"

"We like to play board games and then have sex. Play music and then have sex. Go to movies and
then come home and have sex. Sports mixed with sex. Cooking before, during and after sex."

Somehow I wasn't surprised. Somehow I knew he wasn't exaggerating.

"Edward, what was your favourite date that we went on?"

"Hm. Probably when I took you to the planetarium and we looked at the stars."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"And then ...? Sex?"

"We stayed up all night just talking and looking up at the stars outside."

I might have cried a little at that.

"Edward?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

"This alternate universe Edward, do you think he loves his Bella too?"

"Every Edward loves his Bella. In every alternate universe."

I tried to bring up my wedding dress again but I got distracted by what Sexward was showing me. He
was not dead from the waist down. He was definitely alive. The Captain was standing at attention.
But he was looking more like Long John Silver than Jack Sparrow.

"All hands on deck," I said as I reached for his weapon.

Sexward had other ideas. He pushed me back onto the bed.

"Bella," Sexward said from between my legs.

"Mmmmmm," I moaned as his tongue worked its magic.

"How about a Humvee?" he said as he came up for air, "Instead of a BMW?"

"Please, don't stop," I said grabbing his sex hair and pulling.

His magic wand-of-a-tongue continued its magic.

"Bella?" he asked as he brought his big magic wand up to replace his little one. "Humvee?"

His big magic wand was making a lot of magic. There were sparks. And fireworks.

"Yes. Oh Yes, yes. Oh, Edward, oh, oh, Edward oh, Edward oh. Edward-ooooh!
Simmbbbaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Sexward and his magic wand made me forget about my wedding dress. Just like that. Poof! Magic.

Chapter Seven: Lord Invader

Darth Vader's evil—yet somehow unrelated—twin, Darth Invader, was chasing me around the attic in
his black robe and helmet. His lightsaber was unsheathed and bobbing up and down through the
bottom front of his robe as he ran. I jumped from the couch to the top of some rubber storage
containers and quivered.

"No, Lord Invader," I said, "Please no. Don't capture me and make me your love slave."

"There is no escape, Princess Gonna-Get-Leiad. I am not your father, but I will be your master," he
said in a deep, gravelly voice.

Darth Invader caught me and tore off my Princess Gonna-Get-Leiad costume. Which was not difficult
to do since it was held together with Velcro. And I wasn't resisting.

"Help me, Wobi Gan. Help me. You are my only hope," I cried as Darth threw me naked over his
shoulder.

"Wobi Gan can't help you now," Darth said evilly as he pushed me down to the couch, breathing in a
heavy, raspy voice and putting a bare knee between my legs. "There is no escape from my
emphysema."

Darth whipped off his helmet so I could see his green attic eyes. Then he moved his robe aside so I
could better see his lightsaber pointing right at me.

"Oh Darth! Your lightsaber." I wrapped my hand around it admiringly. I might have licked it a little.

"You will know the power of the Dark Side. I will use the weapon of a Jedi Knight."

"Oh, Darth, oh, baby. Yes, use your weapon."

"I must calculate the angle of trajectory. I will use the force."

Darth put his hands on my knees and opened my legs. He used some force.

"Oh, yes, please use some force. And a good angle," I said as I lifted my hips.

"Now you will know what it is like to be invaded by a real warrior."

He sheathed his lightsaber in me as I groaned, "You are very, very bad warrior, Lord Invader."

"The force is strong within you," Darth breathed heavily in my ear as his hips started moving.

"Yes, Darth. Stronger in me, Darth. Harder in me," I moaned, gripping Lord Invader's ass.

Darth used more force. Darth really knew how to use his lightsaber. Wobi Gan had taught him well.

"Oh, Darth, oh, Edward, oh master, oh, Lord, oh, Mulligatawnyyyyyyyyy!"

Darth had suggested I yell the names of kinds of soups today. Just to mix it up a little. I thought it
appropriate to use Mulligatawny since it was known for being thick, spicy and meaty.

It was a good way to start the morning in the Cullen household. But, I was sad when Lord Invader and
his thick, spicy and meaty lightsaber had to leave for work.

I was having an influence on the good Doctor Cullen aka Sexward aka Lord Invader aka Edward aka
my husband. He hadn't been calling body parts by their anatomically correct names for a while now. I
wondered if he was calling them by their correct names at work.

I was going to find out. Today. And it was going to be a good day. And not just because I'd been
invaded by an evil Lord with green eyes and perfect pouty lips. I was not only going to get the
stitches in my head out at my husband's office, I was going to get a new kind of cast that I could take
off for bathing. And that meant I could get Lord Invader in the tub with me.

I mentally rubbed my hands together. And then added some mental water. I made a mental note to
buy some mental soap.

At mid-morning, Momma Sex aka Esme drove me to Edward's office. I was pretty sure it was one of
the only times I'd visited him there without wearing a trench coat. She stayed outside in the waiting
area. She was polite. And she'd seen our underwear on the Christmas tree and her son's battleship in
my docking station. She was probably worried she'd see that again if she came into his office with
me.

"Mrs. Cullen?" a pair of pouty lips called. Not my husband's perfect pouty lips. These ones had lip
gloss. "How are we doing this morning?" they said, in the plural.

I wasn't sure if they were addressing my spectacular boobs or my own pouty lips. "We are
spectacular," I said. Speaking for both my boobs and my lips. In the plural.

The lip-glossed, pouty lips, whose name tag read, 'Tanya' showed me into my husband's office. Like I
didn't know where his office was. Well, duh! I'd had pirate sex in his chair with a scabbard and hat
the day before. The sex was with the pirate, not the scabbard and hat. Just to be clear.

I watched her sashay in front of me. She was pretty, but with blonde hair. Boobs. Ass. Legs. The
whole nine yards. I decided I might have to kill her if she came within nine yards of my husband.

She led me into his office and said, "The doctor will be right with you, Mrs. Cullen. We will just need
to wait for a minute or two." Her blue eyes glanced at my boobs. That did it. Right there. I was going
to have to kill her. And not just for addressing my boobs in the plural instead of my face in the
singular.

"My boobs are very patient," I said in response. She looked puzzled. When she looked puzzled, she
had a wrinkle between her eyebrows on her forehead. I didn't.

Her ass went out the door. It was a little jiggly. Mine wasn't.

Her nurse's outfit was boring. Mine was naughty. Game. Set. Match. I planned to raise my husband's
Jolly Roger in celebration of my triumph. If she came anywhere near his Jolly Roger, she'd be wearing
a patch over one eye. After I killed her.

"Let's take a look at that noggin, Mrs. Cullen," Edward said as he came in to the office looking and
sounding all doctorly. It made me want to ask him to turn his head and cough. While I felt his
lightsaber.

"Didn't you get a good look at it this morning when you were invading me, Doctor Cullen?"

"I wasn't really looking at your head this morning. I was lost in your eyes."

"I didn't think you'd even seen my eyes," I replied.

Edward distracted me while he took out my stitches. By talking to me. There were better ways to
distract me. As he already knew.

"Well, I did have a difficult time taking my eyes off your cinnamon buns. The ones above your ears."

"Classic Princess Gonna-Get-Leiad," I said. "Not the real deal without the cinnamon buns." I put my
hand on one of Edward's cinnamon buns as he took out my stitches.

"I don't think the real—and by real, I mean, movie—Princess Leia had real cinnamon buns."

"Multitasking," I said. "Sex and breakfast all at the same time. See why you are glad you married
me?"

"So, you're saying I married you for your buns?"

"I do have fantastic buns."

"That you do. But I married you because I love you." He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. "You
have a little gunk in your hair," he said as he placed his tweezers and scissors onto a silver tray. "In
addition to a little cinnamon. I can help you wash it out tonight if you want."

The thought of gunk made me feel a little faint. Which is of course why he didn't say the word
'blood'. I felt fainter having just thought of the word 'blood'. I wanted to mentally kick myself in the
head for even thinking of the word 'blood'. But I felt too faint.

"Bella," Edward said holding my face and looking into my eyes with his concerned green office eyes.
"Do you want to have sex with me tonight? In the attic?"

It was a good trick. It made me stop thinking about blood. And fainting.

"Will you invade me with your lightsaber?" I asked.

"You can bet on it. You're the only woman I want to invade with my lightsaber."

He stood back up, but was still very close and I might have put my hand on his lightsaber then. It was
all sheathed up in boxer briefs under his dress pants. Stupid boxer briefs. Stupid dress pants.

"Now, I prescribe two CC's of sex with your husband. And roman numeral steroids. But not now." He
removed my hand from his lightsaber. "Tonight."

"Two CC's? So that would be four hundred? You might need a little prescription of your own, Doctor
Cullen."

"My lightsaber doesn't need a prescription. It only needs you."

"Why can't we start now?"

He cut off my cast with giant tree cutters the size of giant tree cutters. Really, really giant giant tree
cutters. That cut. Trees. And casts. And possibly arms. I started to feel a little faint again.

He looked at me in the eyes again. "Do you want to sheath my lightsaber?" he asked as he peeled the
cast away.

"To the hilt," I replied, feeling less faint.

"We can't have sex now," he said putting a removable brace on my arm. "I have a patient waiting
next door. They might get a little suspicious if you yell 'Cream of mushroom soup' in a breathy voice.
The walls are very thin."

"Oh. Did anybody hear me yelling a parrot's name in a breathy voice yesterday?"

"No, we were closed down for lunch yesterday. I try to be discrete. It was just the two of us. And the
chair, of course."

"Of course. We couldn't forget about that." I looked over at the black chair. And remembered how
much fun I'd had raising Sexward's Jolly Roger. And even more fun lowering it.

"Bella, about that. I'm now going to have to euthanize two perfectly good paramedics. They had a
little look-see at your spectacular doubloons when you were getting out of the ambulance and were
talking about it in the lounge at the hospital this morning. And then there's the taxi driver."

Noggin. Gunk. Lightsaber. Doubloons. I hoped he wouldn't lose his medical license for not using the
anatomically correct names at the office. Not to mention the euthanizations.

"Oops." Quick. I needed a trick. A plan. I hung my head and tried an apology. "I'm sorry. I tried to
keep them covered. It was hot." And a distraction. "Can I turn on your lightsaber before I leave?"

"Later. I'll see you at home after work."

I wasn't sure he had forgiven me yet. I tried another distraction. "Can I bite your cinnamon buns?"

"Tonight." He kissed me on the lips this time with his little magic wand thrown in for good measure. I
might have licked it a little. And I might have pinched one of his cinnamon buns through his dress
pants. Since I couldn't bite it.

Edward walked me back out to the waiting area. Lip-glossed, pouty lips asked, "We're all finished?"

"We didn't have enough time," I said. "My boobs will finish him off when he gets home."

Her wrinkle looked puzzled again. She turned away and put her blue eyes all over my husband's
cinnamon buns as he walked back into the office area.

I decided killing her might not be a good plan. I needed a better plan. A more diabolical plan. I would
kill her. With my boobs. And then I would set her up with Jacob and/or James. That would be a better
plan. And then I would kill her again. Just to be sure.

After we—and by 'we', I mean, Esme and I—left the office, where I couldn't have sex with my
husband, Esme took me to lunch. We talked about when Edward was a boy and how proud she was
of him that he had grown into such a fine man. She told me how happy she was that I made Edward
happy and that she was glad I was part of their family.

I might have cried a little. She might have cried a little. There was lots of arm patting. But no winking.
She gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. I was starting to suspect that forehead kissing was in the
manual.

After lunch, she took me home where I worked on my articles on the computer for the rest of the
afternoon. I had saved my deadlines in a file with the email addresses of where I was supposed to
send them when they were finished and I had to get caught up. It was easier to type with this new
cast so I got very involved in what I was doing. I hardly had time to plan how I was going to have sex
with my husband before I heard his key in the lock. I quickly ran up to the attic shedding my clothes
on the stairs as I went.

"Sexward?" I called out as I entered the attic and frantically searched through the costumes. I heard
him come through the kitchen door and throw his keys on the kitchen counter.

"Nope," Sexward called up to me.

It was Sexward. I recognized his velvet voice. I wanted to lick it a little.

"Doctor SexGod? Doc Sex? Sex? Triple X? X?"

"Nope," he said.

"Who are you? Are you a pirate?"

"Nope," said Sexward. "Are you in the attic?"

"Yes. You should come up here. Follow the trail," I said as I put on the teeny, tiny, tight little black
dress.

I heard his footsteps on the stairs.

"The leopard bra?" he said from the stairs below. "You know that's my favourite. You should have let
me take that one off you."

"Next time, I promise. Who are you then?" I asked as I put the little matching black cap on my head.

"A hot pink thong? You know how I love mismatched underwear," he said, his voice getting closer
and making a comment before answering my question. "That depends. Who are you?"

"Guess," I said, trying to stall as I pulled on the black fishnet stockings.

"Are you Princess Gonna-Get-Leiad?" he asked.

"Nope. Are you Lord Invader?" I tied the little white apron around my waist and turned around to see
him at the attic door.

"Nope," Sexward said as he walked into the attic, discarding his shirt and dress pants. "Behold.
Captain Commando," he said in a velvety voice showing me his velvety lightsaber.

"Behold. La Bella Bon Buns," I said back.

I showed him my sexy French maid costume. He showed me a new position.

I yelled out the soupe du jour which was "Bouillabaisse". He yelled out, 'A la carte', 'Au naturel' and
'Viva la French maid'.

It was turning out to be a great day in the Cullen household.

Charlie's mustache opened the front door of his house and welcomed us in. He had called and left a
message to invite us for supper while Captain Commando and I were getting busy on the rubber
storage boxes in the attic.

We had pizza and ice cream. Charlie and Edward got along very well. They talked a lot about sports
and watched TV while I looked at my old photo albums at the kitchen table.

There were pictures of a skinny little me with Charlie. And pictures of a skinny little me with my
mom, who Charlie told me was named Renee. There were pictures from grade school in Arizona and
pictures of a skinny little me from high school. And then I saw the picture from when I had graduated
from university. I was no longer skinny. My boobs and hips had suddenly developed and I no longer
looked like a little girl. I looked like a woman. Apparently, I was a late bloomer.

Then I came upon a picture of a very young, very handsome Edward Cullen wearing a Forks High
School Spartans football uniform. It was a photo cut out of the newspaper and it was tucked in
behind my other pictures.

I picked up the picture and examined it closely. I wanted to lick it a little.

"Edward?" I asked.

"Yes?" The Twins went up in the air. I wanted to lick them a little.

"Did we go to the same high school?"

"Yes, sweetie. We were at Forks High the last two years in the same class."

"So, I knew you in high school?" I had to ask again just to be sure.

"We've known each other since you moved to Forks when we were seventeen," he answered.

Charlie's mustache piped up. "You went away to college in Arizona and then you travelled a lot and
came back to Forks about six months ago to take care of me after I had some surgery. And that is
when you met Edward again."

This was all news to me. Of course, everything was news to me. I was pretty much a blank slate when
it came to memories of the people I loved.

Charlie thought it would be a good idea to show me my old bedroom. To see if it brought back
memories. There was a blank slate sitting on the desk. So far this wasn't helping.

I looked at the pictures on the walls and through the drawers and found old clothing and books and
mementos from my life. Still nothing.

Edward opened the closet and there was an old Spartans football jersey hanging there along with
some other old clothes and jackets.

Then Charlie got a call on his police radio. "I have to go. Can you two let yourselves out?" he asked
and gave me a quick kiss on my forehead. Ding! Ding! Ding! Forehead kissing. Definitely in the damn
manual.

I was pretty sure Charlie was a good dad. Just from what little I'd seen of him. Somehow I understood
why I had come back to take care of him after his surgery.

Charlie left with a bang of the screen door.

"Edward, what kind of surgery?" I asked, concerned.

"Nothing serious, Bella. Just some foot surgery. He couldn't walk for a while so he needed someone
to take care of him. You did that. And then you ended up staying."

I was pretty sure I knew the reason I had stayed in Forks. And he was standing right in front of me.

"Did we ever date in high school?" I asked.

"We kind of ran in different crowds. I was on the football team and you were into the whole school
newspaper journalism thing. We didn't hang out much."

"But we knew each other."

"Yes."

"Did I like you back then? I mean, did I have a thing for you?"

"You did, but I didn't find out about it until later."

"Did you like me back then?"

"The first time I saw you in the cafeteria, you knocked the wind out of me."

"And?"

"And then you sat down next to me in Biology. I saw you up close and fell for you—hard."

"You liked me that long ago?" I asked.

"Since the first time I looked into those brown eyes."

"Did I know? In Biology, that you liked me?"

"No, I pretended I didn't like you. It scared me, how strongly I reacted to you."

"Oh. What did I do?"

"You hid behind your hair. And I wanted to push it back and kiss you. But I was really shy and I didn't.
And then you pretty much ignored me after that."

"And you didn't ever say anything?"

"I got up the nerve to dance with you at senior prom at the end of the following year. My palms were
sweaty and it was awkward and we didn't know what to say to each other."

"Oh."

"After high school we went to two different places to school. You went back to Arizona and I went to
Washington State. And then you came back here six months ago and we got reacquainted."

"And?"

"And you had the same effect on me again. The knocking and the falling. My palms even got sweaty."

"Really?" I smiled. "Did you notice my boobs? I didn't have them in high school."

"It wasn't the first place I looked."

"And my ass?"

"Also, not the first place I looked."

I looked at the purple bedspread with the teddy bear on top. The teddy bear was wearing a tiny little
Spartans jersey. I looked at Edward. Edward looked at me.

"Do you want to look at them now?" I asked.

Here was a perfectly good bed. I was pretty sure I'd never had sex on this bed. I was pretty sure
Edward had never had sex on this bed. I was pretty sure I was fulfilling a high school dream. I put on
the high school jersey from the closet and had sex on my high school bed with high school football
star, Edward Cullen.

Go Spartans.

Edward was especially gentle and loving and I might have cried a little at how sweet he was. It was a
completely different kind of sex than with Lord Invader and the force. I called him Edward and didn't
yell the name of a soup. There was lots of licking. Not just a little.

And I might have fallen in love with him just a little bit more.

"Tell me more about this alternate universe Edward and Bella," I requested, as I snuggled beside
Edward on the couch, watching the fire in the fireplace and the lights twinkle on the Christmas tree.

"What do you want to know?" He put down his book.

"About how they fell in love."

"They fell in love when they were seventeen. He was dead. And he wanted to kill her, but not with
sex. And his penis ... sparkles."

"Say what?"

"He wanted to kill her."

"No, the part about the ..." I had a hard time saying the word 'penis'. Even though I'd licked one this
morning. And it was hard at the time.

"Item. Weapon. Missile. Captain. Magic Wand. Lightsaber." Edward interpreted for me in case I'd
forgotten the meaning of the word 'penis'. I hadn't. "It sparkles."

"Wow. His lightsaber actually ... glows?"

"Yup."

"That is a way better story than eighteenth century naked lady robbers. Or the underwear gypsies. Or
the genetically engineered moths. I take my hat off to you."

"Thank you. I learned from the best," he said with his twinkly green Christmas tree light eyes.

He was good. He was so good, it was bad. And sparked an idea. That had to do with sparkles.

"I'll be right back," I said as I got something out of the bathroom and then went up to the attic.

He was laying on the couch reading when I came back, dressed in my costume.

"How are we this evening?" I asked, including my boobs, lips and Edward in the medical plural.

He put the book down on the floor. "Naughty nurse?" he asked. The Twins looked a little surprised at
my outfit. Which didn't surprise me.

"In the flesh."

"We don't get many of those around Forks." I was very glad to hear that, given Nurse Tanya at his
office. Who I planned to kill. Twice. Once with each boob.

"You're a very, very hot man, Mr. Cullen," I said. "I need to take your temperature."

"You're not planning to use a rectal thermometer, are you?"

"There are two theories about arguing with a naughty nurse, Mr. Cullen. And neither one works. I
plan to do an oral exam," I said, giving him a thorough oral exam with my tongue. The patient was
very cooperative. I thought about giving him a gold star. On his golden gun.

"I'm glad you didn't use an invasive procedure."

"I am here to make sure you leave feeling better than when you arrived. I want you to feel very, very
good before you leave." I leaned over and put my hand on his forehead and gave him a really good
view of my boobs. "Your temperature seems to be rising."

"I'm not sure about my temperature, but something is definitely rising."

"Hmm. You seem to have broken out in a bit of a sweat. We should remove your shirt," I diagnosed
as I helped him out of his shirt.

"What's your prognosis, Nurse? Is it fatal?"

"Not fatal. But incurable. You have Hotfor-Summathat disease."

"Are you going to be treating me, Nurse ... ? Sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Nurse Summathat. But you can call me by my first name—Gimmee."

"Gimmee? Gimmee Summathat? Hotfor-Summathat?"

"You seem to be repeating yourself, Mr. Cullen. That's a very serious sign. There's some therapy I'd
recommend."

"What does that consist of, Nurse Summathat?"

"It consists of a good rub down, Mr. Cullen. And then a good rub up. And then down again. Up.
Down. And so on."

"Oh," he said. "I see. And are you qualified to perform that procedure, Nurse Summathat?"

"I take my job very seriously, Mr. Cullen. I am a professional. I went to naughty nurse school and
everything. Now, let's take off those pants, shall we?"

Edward was going commando. I liked Edward commando. Well, duh! I'd destroyed all his boxer
briefs. Twice.

The Captain saluted me. "And how are we this evening?" I addressed him the same as I did all my
patients. In the medical plural.

"Sometimes you scare me a little," Edward commented.

"Don't be afraid, Mr. Cullen. This won't hurt a bit. Now, turn and cough."

He turned and coughed. I put a little sparkly hand lotion in my palm and gave the Captain a good rub
down. And then a good rub up. And then down again. Up. Down. And so on.

Chapter Eight: Sultan of Seduction

I washed the sparkles off Edward in the tub. I used real soap. Not the mental kind.

He shampooed my hair and I shampooed his. It was the best bath I could remember having. Which
was not that many.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" I asked as I sat behind him and poured water to rinse the suds from
his hair.

"No, sweetheart, you aren't crazy. You're just ... you."

"Which costume did you like best?"

"All the ones that you were in and I took off. It doesn't matter what you wear as long as it comes off."

"I have a confession," I said.

"Uh oh. This sounds serious."

"Yes, it's very serious."

"Okay. You can tell me."

"I have a crush on your eyebrows. I call them 'The Twins'. This is a distinct and separate crush from
the one I have on you personally."

"I know." He leaned his head back as I rubbed his scalp.

"Have I told you this before?" I asked.

"No, but I can tell. You always look like you're going to lick them."

"You're not jealous?"

"No. I'm willing to let you share your affection between me and my body hair."

"So you know about the crush I have on your chest hair?"

"Simba?"

"And stomach hair?"

"The Happy Trail?"

"I've told you these names?"

"Not directly. You've just referred to them in passing. In licking, actually. And my hair? You call it 'The
Hair Which Shall Not Be Contained."

The Hair Which Shall Not Be Contained? Damn, I was good. It aptly described the cowlicks which
made his hair stick up in all directions.

"I have another confession," I said. I thought I'd build up to them gradually. I'd already introduced the
topic of jealousy. It was one of my tricks.

"Oh? More body hair names?"

"No. I'm going to have to kill Nurse Tanya."

"With your boobs?"

"How did you know that?"

"This isn't the first time you've contemplated it."

"You know me very well, don't you?" I asked.

"Inside and out," he said.

He knew how to play me like a piano. With variations on a theme ... hand positions … long, nimble
fingers … rhythmic movement … pounding bass and ... The name of a soup came to mind. Sex also
came to mind. You know why.

"Did you want to have sex with me in high school?" I asked.

"Yes," he said simply.

"I'll bet I wanted to have sex with you too. When was the first time we had sex?"

"Since you came back to Forks?"

"What? What do you mean, 'since I came back to Forks'?"

"Since you came back. Or ...?"

"Or ...?"

"Before you left?"

"We had sex before I left?" I was stunned. I thought about being astonished or taken aback instead,
but I was sticking to an 'S' theme with the soap, suds and sparkles.

"Yes. After the prom."

"What?"

"After we danced and were all sweaty, we went outside to cool off. And then I kissed you very
awkwardly and you very awkwardly kissed me back."

"And then?"

"You told me you were leaving the next day for Arizona and I told you that I liked you. You told me
that you liked me back and we got a little hot and bothered and we went back to my house and up to
my room."

"And?"

"You tried on my football jersey and more hot and bothered ensued. We had sex on my bed."

"Oh."

"It was sweaty and awkward and lasted about two minutes."

"And?"

"And we didn't really know what to say to each other after that so I took you home and kissed you
and we both cried a little that you were leaving and that was that."

"Cried?" It wasn't hard to believe that I cried. I seemed to do it a lot. But I hadn't seen Edward cry. Of
course I'd only known him for a week.

"Yup."

"Was that my first time?" I asked.

"Crying?" he asked. If I'd had my brace on I would have hit him over the head with it. Even though he
was already naked.

"No. Having sex."

"Yes, your first time," he said.

"Was it your first time?"

"It was my first time too. Having sex. Not crying."

Edward Cullen had been my first. And my last. And probably my best. That also made me feel like
crying a little.

"We didn't keep in touch after?" I asked.

"At first we emailed back and forth because we hadn't used a condom and we had to make sure you
weren't pregnant. And then school got really heavy for both of us and we lost touch."

"And then the second time? After I came back here? Was it in the back of the Lexus?"

"No. It was at my old apartment. In my bed."

"Was I wearing a costume?"

"No, you were wearing dark blue jeans with a little rip in one knee and a green shirt with two pockets
and five tan buttons. And a blue thong. And a black lace bra with a little black satin ribbon bow in the
front. And you were wearing a little bit of lip gloss that was kind of minty and your hair smelled like
strawberries. It was loose and in waves and you had brown leather sandals and green toe nail polish.
And I melted into your warm brown eyes. It's one of my best memories."

I might have cried a little again that he had remembered so much detail. I felt all warm and squooshy
inside. Like a sponge. I added mental sponge to mental soap on my mental note. In red mental ink.
So I wouldn't forget next time I went to the mental store.

"I fell in love with you once in high school and then again when I came back to Forks. And then again
a few days ago. I think I must really, really love you," I said.

"I think we really, really love each other," he said as he wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Could we just snuggle? Without costumes or aliases? Just you naked against me?" he asked.

I snuggled against him in our bed. There were still a few sparkles on him. I licked them off and then
snuggled some more.

"You don't like the costumes and aliases?" I asked.

"They are fun, but sometimes I just like to have sex with the girl I fell in love with."

"Ah, her. I wouldn't exactly call myself a girl now, though. I'm twenty seven."

"Did you remember your age?" The Twins did a jumping jack. Right there on his forehead.

"Nope. Checked my driver's license."

"Oh. The cat's out of the bag. You used to tell everyone you were eighteen. Made me feel like a
lecherous cradle robber."

"Did they believe me?"

"Uh huh. Especially when you were wearing your school girl costume with the little plaid skirt and
knee socks."

"Did I wear that out in public?"

"Once. You were hot and took off your trench coat. You caused a six car pile-up at the four way stop
by Forks Drug Mart. Luckily no one was hurt."

I was glad no one got hurt. I seemed to get hot a lot in my trench coat. I decided to buy a lighter
trench coat.

"So, I guess that's why that costume isn't in the box?"

"I ripped it off you."

"Were you mad?"

"Nope. I was a little ... anxious to get it off. You buy costumes with velcro now and I try to be more
careful."

"Ah. That explains things."

"We decided the bedroom was a costume-free zone. So just you and I, Bella and Edward, could have
a little time together."

"Good thinking," I said. "Edward?"

"Hm?" he murmured, his green bedroom eyes closed as he played with my hair.

"Two hundred. Do you think we'll make it?"

"Sometimes you have set your goals high and then be happy when you achieve more than you would
have if you didn't set the goal," he said as he rolled over on top of me.

"Well, that was profound. I'll have to lick you more often if that's what you come up with," I said,
moving my hands up his back.

"I'm never opposed to a little licking. Now would be good."

His green bedroom eyes looked into mine. These were my favorites of all his eyes. His attic eyes were
a close second. Followed by his green twinkly Christmas tree light eyes. And then his kitchen eyes.

And then probably his office eyes. His bathroom eyes were good too, though. And then there was the
Captain's one eye …

I licked my lips a little. And then I licked his lips a little. And then I licked his cowlicks a little as he
kissed his way down to my neck.

"Bella?" he murmured against me.

"Yes?"

"Did you like having sex with me in my Spartans jersey today?"

"That was yours?" I was shocked. I thought about being flabbergasted or amazed instead, but those
didn't fit with the 'S' theme either.

"Yes." He started kissing and licking my doubloons.

"How did I get your high school Spartans jersey?"

"You told me you'd always admired me in it. So after we had sex in it on my bed after the prom, I
gave it to you."

"And I kept it all these years. I understand why."

"Today at your dad's, I was trying to make up for the first time we had sex in the jersey. It wasn't very
good."

"You more than made up for it. That was the most memorable memory of the last few days. Which is
as far back as my memory goes where you're concerned."

"I'm glad. We have ten years of wanting each other to make up for."

"Is that why we have so much sex?"

"Yup."

I had sex again with my high school crush, Edward Cullen. His performance did the Spartans proud. I
gave him a little mental trophy for being the Most Valuable Player. The Captain received his own
trophy for the best assists. His trophy wasn't little. It was big. You know why.

It was a good way to end the day in the Cullen household.

I nestled down into the warm bed and reached for my husband. It was early and still dark. There was
humming. And grinding. Grinding and humming. I reached over, but Edward was gone. I liked the
humming and grinding to be in my bed. But they weren't. They were in the kitchen. With Edward.

The grinding stopped, but the humming continued. After a few minutes, Edward came out of the
kitchen and went into the bathroom. I made a quick trip up to the attic while the showering began.

He had just finished his shower when I came back down in my costumes. That's costume ... with an
'S'.

"Howdy," I called out from the living room.

He came into the living room naked, towelling off his hair. "Well, what have we here? Cowgirl Jeanie
in a bottle?" The twins did a jumping jack. Twice. In a row.

The Captain, soon to be referred to as my pony, was unbound. Like a wild mustang. But he was still
asleep. The humming and grinding hadn't woken him. I was hoping the costumes would. I had added
the cowgirl hat, boots and scarf to the Jeanie harem costume.

"I'm being frugal and economizing. Doubling up. The cowgirl dress was missing," I said.

Edward looked a little guilty. "I might have ripped the cowgirl dress."

"Well, that's okay. I'm good at improvising."

"You certainly are. Are we going to be doing a little horseback riding in the Arabian desert this
morning?"

"You betcher sweet Agrabah cheeks we are, great Sultan of Seduction."

"So the horse is ...?"

I wondered if the Captain minded being a horse today. He didn't look like he minded. He was starting
to get a little frisky. He might have even whinnied a little.

"An Arabian bucking bronco—Your Not-So-Little-Pony."

"I don't have to wear a costume do I?"

"No. I like to ride bareback."

"Really? Do you like to yell star constellations in a breathy voice?" It was a good suggestion. And fit
with the whole cowgirl slash Arabian nights theme.

"I could do that."

"The doubling up is a little confusing. Do I yell 'Yahoo' or 'Open Sesame'?" he asked.

"Yell whatever you'd like, but you have to rub me the right way if you want your three wishes."

"Ah, here's where the Jeanie part comes in. I thought I had to rub a bottle or lamp or something."

"Where's the fun in that? We cowgirl Jeanies are emancipated. And we like to be on top."

"Well, come over here and I'll see what I can do."

He put his hands on my ass cheeks. And rubbed them up and down as he kissed me.

"Excellent," I said. "… what is your first wish?"

"I wish you'd take off the boots. The spurs scare me a little and I'd like to have children with you
someday."

"Wish granted." I took off the boots.

He rubbed my doubloons.

"Mmm. Definitely worthy of a second wish," I said.

"I wish you'd let me rub your doubloons again. Without the bra thingy."

His Not-So-Little-Pony was wide awake now and rearing up in eagerness. "Howdy, partner," I said as I
removed the bra thingy.

"You have one wish left," I said to the Sultan.

Edward did more doubloon rubbing and then pulled me over to the couch. He fell back onto it with
me on top.

"I wish you'd take off the harem pants so I could do some more rubbing. But keep the hat on.
Backwards."

"Reverse cowgirl and pants off? That's two wishes. You're doubling up."

"Do you want me to keep rubbing?"

He made a good point.

"Your wish is my command."

Edward was a very good rubber. Well, duh! That's why he was the Sultan of Seduction. With two S's.

I might have swung my hat around in the air a little while I yelled out in a breathy voice, "Go horsey
go, oh, Sultan, oh, Edward, oh, oh, giddyap, Big Dipperrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

I decided I needed to observe Doctor Cullen and possibly-naughty Nurse Tanya in their natural
habitat. At work. I trusted Edward. Nurse Tanya ... not so much. Her blue eyes were shifty.

There was something about Edward that made him extraordinarily attractive. I was drawn to him like
a moth to a flame. Not a genetically engineered moth. Just a regular one. So I presumed Nurse Tanya
must be too.

I checked through my costume box and found a disguise. A blonde wig with braids. And some big
black glasses. A cross between school girl and naughty librarian. I put them on and some nondescript
clothes. And then I put on my trench coat.

It was cold. The trench coat was warm. I decided not to buy a new trench coat.

I was going to have to walk to the clinic. Because I had no car. I only made it three blocks. The
mailman, four neighbors and two paramedics driving by in their ambulance all stopped to say 'Hello,
Mrs. Cullen'.

Stupid disguise.

Alice took me to lunch. And then shopping. It give me the opportunity to buy some things. Curtains
for the kitchen door window. Boxer briefs for Edward. If he was going to be working with Nurse
Tanya, he couldn't be showing up at work commando.

And a new costume.

But I hardly had time to put it on and go to my husband's office to have sex with him in his new office
chair.

The week went by quickly. Edward was busy and up to something. He was making whispered phone
calls to someone when he thought I wasn't looking. I was sure he had a plan. A diabolical plan. And it
probably involved Nurse Tanya.

I needed to find out his plan. I made a plan to find out his plan. Hence the new costume. I decided to
save it for just the right moment.

I was now driving a Humvee. But it was a tank. I decided to name it 'Captain's Folly'. Since that was
how I'd ended up in a tank.

I went out to do some Christmas shopping. In my tank. With its festive dark tinted windows.

And ran into James. Not literally. Though that would have been nice. With the tank. I considered
hitting him over the head with my arm brace. And not so I could get him naked.

"I hear you're married now," his shifty blue eyes smirked.

"Yes. To Edward Cullen."

"That was fast. A few months ago you were flirting with me," his yellow teeth smirked.

I had no memory of it, but I was pretty sure that had never happened.

"I know someone who wants to flirt with you. Her name is Tanya. She works at Forks Medical Center.
She's into threesomes."

If you're going to refer to yourself as 'we' that counts as more than one person, right?

"Really?" His eyebrows did a jumping jack. I didn't consider naming them. The idea was disgusting.
He was disgusting. He was perfect for Nurse Tanya. I washed my mind with mental soap after
thinking about him in a threesome with Nurse Tanya.

"I'll stop by and introduce myself. You know there's something strange about that Cullen family," his
long blonde ponytail smirked.

"Uh huh. They are very polite. They don't try to grab people. And they're not into threesomes."

"No something almost ... supernatural. They are freakishly attractive. Even Esme," his chipped
fingernails smirked.

Now I was really disgusted. Not because Esme wasn't attractive. But because he'd called them
'freakish'. I considered kicking him in the head. And not with my mental foot. But I didn't want to end
up in another cast.

"The rumor is that they have found some kind of fountain of youth—an elixir of immortality. They
grind it up into a powder and put it in their drinks. It makes them all ... attractive and sexually
irresistible," his elbows smirked.

"Oh my gosh! You're so right. They buy it at the Ministry of Magical Immortality Elixirs down on Mad
Doctor Alley next to the Forks Library."

"Watch yourself, Bella. You're becoming one of them." He made a spooky sign with his fingers as he
walked away. Even his fingers smirked.

Stupid James. Stupid smirk.

Edward came through the door after work. I had been busy in the kitchen. And by 'busy' I mean—
naked and covered in a whip cream bikini. That was my new costume. It cost $2.99. I was being frugal
and economizing. It was part of my plan.

"Oh, good. Dessert first," Edward said, dropping his briefcase and undoing his tie. The shirt and pants
soon followed.

Edward was apparently hungry, because all the whip cream got eaten. Other things got eaten, too.
On the kitchen counters. I was going to have to do some more serious cleaning of the kitchen
counters. In case we decided to eat off them again.

After dessert, we had supper at the kitchen table and I almost had multiple jawgasms as I watched
Edward chew. With my legs clamped together.

"Have you ever had sex with any other nurses?" I asked, subtly. This was part of my plan. To see if my
husband was whispering and fraternizing with Nurse Tanya. It wasn't that subtle. But, I'd warmed
him up with the whip cream bikini. He'd warmed me up with his tongue.

"Besides Nurse Summathat?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Uh huh."

"Who?"

"There was one. Let me see … Nurse Now. Nurse Dewme Now. And then Nurse Toomee. Nurse Givit
Toomee. And ..."

"Were any of them blonde?" I interrupted.

"Well … they all had spectacular boobs and fantastic asses. And now that I think about it … yes. One
of them was blonde."

"The blonde one? Did she have blue eyes?"

"She had the most amazing removable hair. Her braids just came off in my hand. Poof! Like magic.
And I got lost in her eyes. But they weren't blue."

I decided to be direct. It was a new trick. And pretty much the same one I'd used when I'd been
subtle.

"Have you ever had sex with Nurse Tanya?" I asked, not so subtly.

Edward sighed a little. "Are you sure you want to ask that question again?"

"Yes."

"No, Bella, she speaks in first person plural. It's like she's got a mouse in her pocket or something.
Even if you run into her in the grocery store she'll say, 'Are we finding what we're looking for'? or
'How are we feeling today'? She's incredibly annoying. And I've heard she's into threesomes.
Disgusting."

"We've had this discussion before?"

"Yup."

"Did I also believe you then, when you explained it to me?" I asked.

"Yes, you realized she was no threat to you or our marriage so you decided not to smother her with
your boobs. You're the only woman I want to ride me like an Arabian Nights cowgirl."

So that's not why I couldn't remember. There was no secret affair I was trying to block out. There
must be something else I wanted to forget. Hmm. My mental hands starting doing spooky fingers.

Edward was playing with my hair. I decided to see if he was irresistible. I resisted. He ran his hand
down my thigh. I picked up my fork and took a bite of my supper. I was still resisting.

Stupid James. There was no powder. There was no grinding.

Wait! There had been grinding. Every morning before I woke up. And there had been powder. On the
kitchen counter when I'd been cleaning. But there was no sexual irresistibility.

The Sultan started rubbing. And then licking. And humming. And grinding.

Sometimes I'm mistaken. There was definitely sexual irresistibility.

Damn, the Sultan was good. Damn, James might be right. Damn, what was I saying ….?

I might have yelled the name of a coffee. You know why. "Oh, Sultan, oh, oh, Edward, oh, Venti
Mocha Frappuccinooooooooooo!"

Chapter Nine: Edward Anthony Cullen

Edward had one hand on my treasure chest as he reached around from behind and was massaging
my doubloons. His other hand was between my legs, rubbing. His lips were kissing the back of my
neck.

"Bella?" his velvety voice whispered in the darkness. It had brought satin and silk with it. I wanted to
roll around naked in the luxurious sound. Luckily, I was already naked. Now, I just had to figure out
how to roll in it. "We like having you as our first mate."

Uh oh. I was totally having an influence on Edward. And so was Nurse Tanya. He was using nautical
terminology. And the medical plural.

He was also using his fingers. Really, really well.

"Are we speaking in the medical plural?" I asked.

"Nope. The pirate plural. As in—the Captain and I."

I felt something behind me. "Did you bring your hornpipe to bed or are you just happy to feel me?" I
asked.

"Are you happy to feel my hornpipe?" he asked back.

"You know how I love to blow your hornpipe."

"You do blow a mean hornpipe. Do you still like it when I guide my Man O' War into your lagoon?"

Okay. Right there. He was using a lot of nautical terminology. And he was basically asking if I liked
having sex with him. Something was up. Something other than his hornpipe slash Man O' War. Which
was definitely up. And drifting in the vicinity of my bunghole. A canal which was not open for
passage. Luckily, he was not trying to gain entrance. Because he already knew it would be denied.

"Are you okay, Sexward?" I turned on the light and rolled over to face him on the bed.

He blinked and looked at me with his sea green eyes. I wanted to swim naked in them.

"You just called me Sexward," he said with a smile.

"Yup. I thought we compromised on that."

He ran his hand through his hair. I wanted to frolic naked in it.

"I was a little worried. You've only been calling me Edward for the last few days and I thought maybe
I was losing my … magic."

MAGIC?-!-?-!-?

I had to bold, italicize and capitalize the word. And then punctuate it a little. And put it on a list. With
graphics that looked like his magic fingers and little magic wand-of-a-tongue. And another graphic of
his big magic wand. Which pretty much took up the whole page. And extended off the edges.

Was he admitting to having magic? As in a … MAGIC ELIXIR?-!-?-!-? OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

"Your … magic?" My heart started beating faster. Like it was going to fly out of my chest. With little
heart wings and possibly attach itself (naked) to his chest hair. So it could frolic in it. And maybe do a
little licking.

"Mm hm." His lips were now all over my dual flotation devices in the front. And his magic fingers
were working their magic between my legs.

"You know I will always want you to drop anchor in my waters," I said. "How could you doubt that?
We're not at two hundred, but we're in the high double digits already this week. "

He put his double digits in me and continued his magic.

"I just wondered."

"What … magic ... were you referring to?" I asked between sighs. I was listing and rolling and leaning.
I was almost ready to come about.

"The way you associate me with sex. And respond to my touch. And want me all the time. That
magic."

"The way you are … sexually irresistible … to me?" I gasped as the waves around me started to peak
and shiver me timbers in a really good way.

"Mm hm."

It was as good as an admission. Of a … MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

"Sexward, you do and always will rock my boat."

"Good," he said as I capsized and fell overboard into a churning sea of pleasure, yelling the name of a
type of coffee.

He might have subsequently inserted his cannon and fired off a round through my porthole. Not my
bunghole. Just to be clear.

It was early in the morning. Really, really early. I'd heard Edward get up and leave while it was dark. I
wandered out into the kitchen hoping he'd just gone out there, but he was nowhere to be seen. I
checked the attic. And I checked the garage. The Lexus was gone.

Where was Edward? I wondered if he had gone to get more elixir. I went back to bed.

When I awoke next, it was still early. I could hear Edward grinding in the kitchen so he could be
freakishly attractive and sexually irresistible. When I'd really rather he was grinding into me.

When he was finished grinding and I heard humming in the shower, I went out into the kitchen to see
what he was grinding. Apart from a light sprinkling of white powder on the counter, there was
nothing to be seen.

Where would Edward keep his ... MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

I opened all the cupboard doors and started searching. I was leaning over searching through a
bottom cupboard drawer when he came into the kitchen naked, towelling off his hair.

"Well, well, what have we here? A naked sea nymph?"

His Jolly Roger was hoisted to half mast. It was the first place I looked. Even before his wide eyes.
Because it was wider than his eyes. By a long shot. And longer, too.

And now it was fully hoisted up the flag pole. Pointing north. "Avast, ye cockswain." I saluted the
Captain.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked.

"Uhh ..." I said. "I was looking for … more whip cream? I'm out of costumes."

"Wouldn't the whip cream be in the fridge? And I like what you're wearing now," he said, putting the
towel down on the kitchen counter. "It's my favourite."

His green eyes were on fire. I was pretty sure I was going to be consumed in that fire. On the kitchen
counter.

I was right. There was fire and firing of guns and explosions and missiles and fireworks and pirates
and magic. It was like being at Disneyland with the bouncing like Tigger and the chest hair named
Simba. There were cannon blasts and yelling in breathy voices. There was mutinying and bounty and
commandeering and surrendering and white flags and a man inside.

I had to go back to bed after he left for work. I was exhausted. And maybe just a little seasick.

I tore the house apart that morning, but couldn't find the magic elixir, so I decided to check Edward's
office. I put on some sexy mismatched underwear. And my trench coat.

I got in my Humvee slash tank aka 'Captain's Folly' with its festive dark tinted windows and drove
toward his office.

It was hot. I didn't loosen my trench coat. You know why.

I opened my window instead and let my hair blow around in the breeze. I glanced over at the driver
next to me. He glanced over at me and his eyes widened.

He started to swerve. It was deja vu. It was exactly what had happened when I'd had my original
accident. Only in the Volvo instead of the Humvee.

Stupid Volvo.

I had to swerve to avoid the car that was swerving toward me.

I made it. The tank made it. The other car drove off. It made it.

The tree didn't make it. It was wrapped around my Humvee.

Damn, the tank was good. It was the perfect solution. I made a mental note to thank Edward for the
Humvee. And to thank the Captain separately for being the one to talk me into it.

The paramedics drove up in their ambulance. Even though no one had called them. They were
driving past and recognized my Humvee. So they said. I think they were following me.

They asked if I wanted to remove my trench coat so they could 'check me over'. I declined.

On Christmas morning, I gave Edward four presents. I wasn't sure what the other three were that
were wrapped and under the tree. I was wrapped in a giant red bow and nothing else. Under the
tree.

"Oh, look", he said when he saw me. "Santa left me a present. Just what I wanted."

There was unwrapping. And a North pole. It was a north pointing pole, which magically turned into a
pole pointing south after I breathily yelled the name of a citrus fruit. That was Edward's suggestion. I
chose 'lemon'. You know why.

After that, I opened his presents to me. One was my engagement ring. He had added another
diamond to it. That made me cry a little. Another was a new computer. And another was a box of
costumes. Sexy sheriff .. Geisha girl ... Roman goddess ... Wonder Woman … Naughty Tooth Fairy.

They were all held together with velcro. You know why.

I was excited to see what I had bought him for Christmas. There was a pair of tight pants. Well, duh!

And some books and games. And a new driver for his golf clubs.

"What happened to your old driver?" I asked.

"It met with a freak accident. Rabid chipmunks took it and hid it in their garage slash tree.
Apparently, I was spending too much time at the driving range and it set them off somehow."

"Really?" I asked. I was pretty sure I was supposed to be puzzled. Or at least surprised. But somehow
I wasn't.

"Yes. And then they chewed through the metal."

"Chewed through the metal? With their little chipmunk teeth? Is that possible?"

"That's what I said. But you explained to me that their teeth were made from diamonds. So they
were able to cut right through the metal. And then they drove in their little miniature black, shiny
Volvos—which were supposed to be silver, but somebody mixed up the order—right into their
garage slash tree and my driver was never seen again."

"Black, shiny Volvo-driving rabid chipmunks with diamond teeth living in a garage slash tree? Huh!
We don't get many of those in Forks," I said, shaking my head in amazement.

After putting on and taking off my Roman goddess costume, we played on the piano. Not played the
piano. We played on the piano. Just to be clear. And then we played on the rug. And then we played
in the bed.

And then we got dressed and went to the Cullens for Christmas dinner. There was lots of arm patting
and winking and forehead kissing. There was even some knee squeezing. Everyone was attractive
and polite. 'Cause it was all in the damn manual. Which I hadn't got for Christmas.

Stupid manual.

After dinner, I saw Daddy Sex aka Carlisle give Edward a container when they thought no one was
looking.

"You said you ran out," he said quietly to Edward as he handed it to him.

I was sure it had to be a container of the … MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

After we played some games at the Cullens, we went to Charlie's for supper. I had given him a new
fishing rod and he loved it. I loved him. Even though I'd only known him for a short time. There was
arm patting and winking and forehead kissing. Charlie and Edward started to talk about golf and
fishing. They sat on the couch. Looking attractive and being polite.

I wandered back up to my bedroom and sat on the bed, wondering what I had thought of Edward
Cullen back in high school.

I went into the closet and looked at his Spartans football jersey. And then I looked up. There was an
opening in the ceiling of my closet. I got the desk chair and reached up into the opening and pulled
out a book.

It was my diary from high school. I turned the pages. Each page said something about Edward Cullen.
There were doodles and drawings of him and his name in hearts and balloon letters.

I read the last entry:

Tomorrow I go off to college in Arizona. I'm a little scared. And I'm very sad to be leaving Washington,
because I'll be leaving Edward behind, but I didn't know until tonight that he felt the same way about
me that I do about him. I will really miss him and his green eyes and perfect, pouty lips. I had sex with
him on his bed at his house. He gave me his football jersey and told me he was in love with me. I'll
keep his jersey always, so I remember our time together. The sex was sweaty and awkward and quick
and painful. Because he was freaking huge, like a freaking huge … cannon. Or gun or missile or
something.

There was a graphic. It took up the whole next page.

I drew a little pirate hat, braids and eye patch on the graphic.

There was more writing at the bottom of the page.

But, I will never regret it, because it was with Edward. I will always love Edward Anthony Cullen. I will
never forget him for the rest of my life.

I cried and wondered why I couldn't have kept my promise about never forgetting him.

The day after Christmas, I woke up to grinding. I ran out into the kitchen, naked, to catch Edward in
the act of making the ... MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

"Christmas all over again," Edward said as he looked at me, drinking out of his cup.

I looked at his cup and not at the Captain. Which was a first for me, especially since the Captain was
already saluting me. I could see him with my peripheral vision. He was pretty hard to miss. And
pretty. And hard. And never missed.

"Do you want some of this?" he asked with a wink. I wasn't sure if he meant the drink or the Captain.

"Yes," I answered to both.

He held out the glass. I held my breath. I looked at him and saw his stunning beauty – the sex hair,
the thick eyebrows, the pale, silky skin, the green kitchen eyes. The mouth trifecta—perfect pouty
lips, tongue and white teeth. And the body hair. Oh, the body hair.

A wind rushed through my ears. A mental wind. With mental dust. And mental leaves. I shook my
head to get them out and had an epiphany.

There was no damn manual that made them all wink and pat arms and be perfect and kiss foreheads
and be freakishly attractive and sexually irresistible.

There was a damn ... MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-? That's what made them all wink and
pat arms and be perfect and kiss foreheads and be freakishly attractive and sexually irresistible.

And everybody had it but me. Even Charlie.

Stupid Elixir.

Damn, this was bad. Edward was going to be immortal and my spectacular boobs would sag and I
wouldn't be able to kill every Nurse Tanya who came into his life and someday I'd look older and
saggier than him.

I took the glass from his hand and gulped down the damn MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

It was pretty good. My boobs felt firmer already. I wondered if I was sexually irresistible yet.

I turned to Edward. Apparently I was. We had sex on the rug in front of the fireplace. And then on
kitchen floor. And then on the hood of the Lexus.

Later that morning, Edward approached me.

"There's something I want to show you," he said.

I looked down at the Captain all wrapped up in new boxers and dress pants.

"I think I've seen it," I said.

"No, not that. You have to come to my parents' house."

"We're going to have sex at your parents' house? Are we running out of places?"

"No. But there's something important there I need to show you."

Was it? Could it be? Was I going to be in on the secret about the ... MAGIC ELIXIR OF
IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

The Cullen house was all decorated inside and out with flowers and twinkly lights.

Alice took me up to one of the bedrooms and did my hair. Then she brought out my wedding dress
and helped me put it on. So, that's where it had disappeared to.

"Edward wanted you to have a memory of your wedding," she explained. "It means so much to both
of you. We're going to re-create the ceremony."

I might have cried a little.

When it was time, I came down the stairs and Charlie walked me to the front of the living room. And
there Edward was. All dressed in a tux with this green eyes and perfect lips. My heart almost leaped
out of my chest and humped his leg.

We stood at the front of the living room, where all the Cullens were gathered around. Charlie was
there in his suit and smiled at me. My mother, who I recognized from pictures and the wedding video
was there.

I looked into his green wedding eyes and I heard a rushing of wind. A mental wind. This time with a
little rain and it washed the cobwebs from my mind. It suddenly started to come back to me. I added
a little mental soap and sponge and I saw it all clearly.

My memories went all the way back to the first time I'd seen Edward in the cafeteria with his sex hair
and great ass. And then in Biology. I'd looked into his green Biology eyes and heard his velvet voice
saying, 'Hello, My name is Edward Cullen'. I'd wanted to cover him in whip cream and lick him all
over. And then hump his leg.

And then after the prom, we'd gone to his room at his house. His green bedroom eyes had locked
with mine and I'd wanted to swim in them naked and then frolic through the wonderland of his body
hair. But we had sex instead.

And then ten years later when I'd seen him at the hospital again. It wasn't what he did, it was what
he didn't do that made me fall in love with him one more time. He didn't look at my spectacular
boobs. Or at my fantastic ass. He looked into my eyes. I remembered it all.

I remembered my family and my first wedding. It was all beautiful and wonderful. There was one
thing I didn't remember.

"Edward," I whispered in his ear so no one could hear. "Where do you disappear to in the mornings?"

"I go to the gym so I can spend my evenings with you," he answered in a whisper back.

"And the magic elixir of immortality?" I didn't capitalize, bold, underline or italicize it. Because I was
trying to keep my voice down.

The Twins jumped up on his forehead.

"Excuse me?"

"What is the powder you drink every morning?"

"Protein powder. To go along with my work outs."

There was no ... MAGIC ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY?-!-?-!-?

My family was perfect. Polite and freakishly attractive. All by themselves. There was no reason not to
remember them. The feeling was so overwhelming I could hardly contain it. And that's why I had lost
my memory. My mind could barely wrap around how lucky I was to have such a great family. And
most of all, a man who I loved to distraction and who loved me back.

"I love you, Edward Cullen. I really, really love you," I said.

He looked a little surprised.

"I know."

"And I find you sexually irresistible," I whispered extra quietly into his ear.

"I know," he smirked. I wasn't about to hit him over the head with my brace at our wedding so I
smirked back.

"I remember. How much I love you. All of it," I said. Out loud.

"I love you too," he said. Out loud.

The pastor spoke up and repeated what he'd said a minute ago before my mental wind had
interrupted him.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, do you renew your vows with this woman, Isabella Marie Swan-Cullen?"

"I do," Edward said with a smile.

"Isabella Marie Swan-Cullen, do you renew your vows with this man, Edward Anthony Cullen?"

"I do," I said as I looked into his green wedding eyes.

Edward added my wedding ring onto the engagement ring on my finger.

I had died and gone to heaven.

Edward poured water over me in the tub as I leaned back against him.

"I have another confession," I said.

"Uh oh. Who are you going to kill with your boobs now?"

"No one. It's another crush."

"Hm. I'm not sure I like the sounds of this."

"A big one. Really big. Like of gargantuan proportions."

"Bigger than a breadbox?"

"Much, much bigger."

"Bigger than your crush on my body hair?"

"Bigger. Mammoth."

"Bigger than your crush on me personally?" he asked nervously.

"A very close second."

"And this crush is on ...?"

"On your ... puh ... puh ... pee ..."

"Penis?"

"Yes. It might be more than a crush. I might want to marry him in a completely separate ceremony
than the one I had with you today."

"I see."

"Do you mind if I get him a little tux. With a bowtie and stuff?"

Edward contemplated that.

"As long as it's a private ceremony. Just you and me. And there's a honeymoon after."

BEG

(Died and Gone to Heaven Outtake/Prequel) By DoUTrustMe

Blood.

The sight and smell of it was very familiar for someone like me who encountered it every day in a
busy medical practice. I'd analyzed it, staunched it and transfused it. I'd taken its pressure and
listened to its flow. I'd measured it and drawn it and drained it. I'd even been covered in it on one
more than one occasion.

The human body in all its physiological complexity requires approximately six quarts of it at capacity.
The loss of about forty percent or more of that volume will generally require resuscitation. She had
not lost nearly that much, but every single drop of her blood was precious.

Before this moment, no matter the severity of the accident or the gravity of the situation, my
medical training always kicked in when I saw it, allowing me to function on autopilot. But when I saw
her lying on the gurney, her dark brown curls matted with it, my professionalism was forgotten.

Not her. Not her blood, I cried out in silent anguish. For the first time in my medical career, I was
weak at the sight of it. I felt as helpless as a child, impotent, and unable to fathom a world without
her.

My father had been at the hospital doing rounds and been notified when Bella arrived via
ambulance. He'd called me and then quickly apprised me of her situation when I arrived a few
minutes later from the clinic where I'd been waiting for her to meet me for lunch. The faint wrinkles
around his eyes were more pronounced, revealing the concern his voice hadn't conveyed on the
phone.

"She's got a broken arm and a nasty gash on her head. Nothing life threatening, but I'm little worried
she hasn't gained consciousness yet."

My lack of response must have cued him to how deeply I was affected by the sight of her lying
unconscious and bleeding. He squeezed my shoulder and tried to comfort me with his words as I
dropped down to her side. "We all love her, Edward. I'm sure she knows that. She'll find the strength
to come back to you."

I nodded silently, emotion choking the words rising up in my throat. Head injuries were tricky, I knew,
and there would need to be more tests if she didn't regain consciousness soon, but at the moment all
I could see was her warm, red blood, and I hated every drop that seeped out of her. Her life was in
that blood, but mine was too. Both her heart and mine depended on the viscous fluid that flowed
through her veins. She couldn't live without it. And I couldn't live without her.

Apart from the awkward angle of her bruised arm and the jagged head wound staining her hair, she
looked like she was sleeping. Only Isabella Swan Cullen could look as beautiful in physical distress as
she did under normal circumstances. Even with a swollen eye and bruising, she was stunning. Her
milky skin was whiter than usual, and her lips—oh those lips I'd tasted a thousand times—were pale
instead of their usual dark pink. Her breathing was shallow and quick as I watched her chest rise and
fall in continuous rhythmic movement.

Bella and I were still figuratively, if not literally, on our honeymoon three weeks after the wedding
and I just couldn't get enough of her. The emptiness I felt whenever we were apart was only partially

assuaged now by her unconscious physical presence. I needed her to be lucid and awake with her
playful brown eyes open and affixed to mine so I could feel the electrical current that was always
there between us, the current that inexorably tied our bodies and hearts together.

In an instant, I was no longer a doctor; I was just a man who was desperately in love with a woman.

I let one of the interns set her arm and stitch up her head under my watchful eye while I regained my
emotional equilibrium, but when it came time to put in a catheter and hook up her IV, I took over. I
didn't want anyone else that close to her, and I wanted to do something for her other than just pray
for her speedy recovery.

I spent every minute I could by her side over the next few days. Sleep was out of the question. I
couldn't really exist—consciously or unconsciously—without her and every time I closed my eyes
even for a minute, she was all I saw. Even my short naps were filled with dreams of dark brown eyes
and glossy hair, soft round curves, and sighs from her full, ripe lips.

I missed her laughter, and by association, my own. There had been neither in days. And oh, how Bella
made me laugh. She made me feel alive and fully present in a busy, stressful world. I missed her
voice, her smell and the taste of her in my mouth. But most of all, I missed her touch.

"Bella, come back to me, baby. Please," I pled quietly against the soft pale skin of her cheek. "I'll beg
if I have to." My lips connected with her warm flesh, and I lay my head down on our joined hands as
my mind drifted back to our first meeting ten years earlier.

I strutted into the goldfish bowl known as the Forks High School cafeteria and ignored the eyes
following my every movement. I had no idea why people stared at me when I walked. Or sat. Or
basically did anything. But I was bound and determined not to let it bother me, even though it did.

The swagger was my way of dealing with the unwanted attention. Or not dealing. Either way it was
all a ruse. The staring made me self-conscious, and I could only assume the gawkers were wondering
how I was capable of ambulating on the giant skis attached to the bottom of the bendy, rubber
saplings I passed off as legs. Or perhaps they were watching my knuckles drag near the floor and
debating if I was definitive proof that man had indeed descended from apes.

Most people would have described me as 'gangly' or 'lanky' which I infinitely preferred to the 'skinny'
label I'd lived with until I'd put on a little muscle playing sports. And my freakishly long Go Go Gadget
arms were a bonus now on the football field instead of a hindrance on...well, almost everywhere
else, really.

Jessica Stanley used the antennae hidden in the ratted poof at the top of her empty blonde head to
focus her gaze on me and shot laser beams from her protruding, lustful eyes into my back. She was
cute, but was missing a few boxes in her attic. I wasn't interested in her or any of the other girls at
Forks High, for that matter. I'd grown up with them, and, frankly, I knew them all just a little too well.
I'd dated a bit through the years but not seriously. Some were too aggressive in their pursuit of me;
others were just annoying, and it was embarrassing, but not nearly as embarrassing as the attention
from the eyes glued to my ass.

Eric Yorkie, who once tried to weave a soul patch from the hair left in the drain after my shower,
cocked an eyebrow at me every time he saw me and I was sure the eyebrow was somehow tied to a
another part of his body I really didn't want to think about in the cocked position, or at all, for that
matter. He freaked me out more than a little. A lot, actually.

I completed my walk of lame across the room and slumped down beside my sister, Alice, with a sigh.
Her spiky, black hair was standing on end all over her head, a good gauge to her level of animation,
which was apparently reaching Disneyesque proportions. She drummed the top of our usual table
with two carrot sticks in her child-sized hands where she sat next to her boyfriend, Jasper. How she,
Emmett and I were all formed from the same sets of genes was beyond me. Physically, we looked
nothing alike, and we were in different stratospheres in temperament.

She elbowed me hard in the ribs, pointing her chin toward the table two down from where we sat
and whispered excitedly, "New kid. Phoenix."

"Ow." I elbowed her back, but not nearly as hard as she'd done to me and I interpreted her verbal
shorthand—our usual mode of communication. We were close, and conversations were often stilted
because we knew each other so well. I could practically read her mind and she pretty much knew
exactly what I was going to say or do before I did.

I tipped my chair back and balanced on the two hind legs while I looked across to where Alice had
pointed her stubborn little chin. I noted long, shiny, brown hair covering the side of a head I hadn't
seen before on a slight, but distinctly feminine body.

A new kid in Forks was like an alien in Area 51—a being so rare it warranted its own entry on the
mythical creatures website. The girl was already surrounded by a group of kids microscopically
scrutinizing her extraterrestrial form and drilling questions about Phoenix at her like it was some
distant planet where the sun shone without ceasing and the natives were golden-skinned sprites. Oh,
right. Phoenix was pretty much an alien planet compared to Forks.

Her slim back was stiff and her shoulders were slightly hunched over as though uncomfortable with
the obvious attention. She turned her head suddenly, her eyes met mine, and something inexplicable
happened. What it was I don`t know, but it was definitely something.

There was a pregnant pause in my brain functioning, my chest was tight, making breathing difficult,
and my heart was pounding as though Emmett—who currently played for the University of
Washington Huskies but used to use me as the object of his aggression—had just tackled me. He'd
winded me a few times (okay, a lot) and I was familiar with the feeling. I was tingling yet numb all
over as I gazed into a set of dark brown eyes surrounded by clear, pale skin.

An old Van Morrison song about a brown-eyed girl entered my head and I pictured the two of us
laughing and running through the rain like a cheesy laundry detergent commercial.

Alice was waving a hand in my face trying to get my attention, but I couldn't break contact with the
eyes that held me captive. The girl ran her tongue lightly over her lips, biting down a little on the
bottom one and I was sure I was about to break forth into song.

My brown-eyed girl.

"Edward...lunch...class." Alice repeated. I dropped the legs of my chair to the floor, breaking the spell
and turned away from 'Brown-Eyed Girl', whose name I'd already shortened to BEG in my mind. I was
pretty sure I was going to beg her for something at some point, even if it was just to look at me again,
so it seemed like a good fit.

Alice gave me a look. I knew that look. It was the 'don't-screw-this-up' look. How pathetic was it that
I sat with my older sister and her boyfriend every day at lunch? How pathetic was it that she already
knew I was attracted to BEG and in danger of screwing it up? I really needed to get a life. And maybe
a girlfriend who was a Phoenician alien.

I don't even remember eating lunch. I could have eaten the cardboard that was cafeteria pizza for all
I knew. Alice gave up trying to talk to me because I couldn't hear what she saying.

Somehow a short while later, I ended up in Mr. Banner's biology classroom with my leg up on the
empty stool beside me that had been vacant since Erica Mathews moved away two weeks ago.
Yorkie had tried to sit by me after she left so he could steal my gum from where it was stuck under
the table and chew it, but I was having none of it. I scraped the hard piece of gum off the wood with
my nail and popped it in my mouth with a supercilious look in Yorkie's direction.

In your face, jockstrap thief!

I wasn't a hundred percent sure it was Yorkie who had stolen my jockstraps, but they kept
disappearing and he was my prime suspect. Jessica Stanley was also on the list, but it would be more
difficult for her to sneak into the guys' locker room what with her ginormous boobs and all. And I'd
already caught Yorkie stealing one of my white tube socks. I didn't even want to know what he did
with that.

Erica Mathews had been a good lab partner. She had a boyfriend and hardly ever spoke. Too bad she
moved. See, moving away—that was normal. People moved out of Forks all the time. It was moving
in that was unheard of.

"Mr. Banner told me to sit here."

BEG suddenly appeared directly in front of me with her pale hand outstretched and pointing to the
stool. Just as I suspected, she was not human or how else would she have been able to transport
herself like that? And she'd cast some kind of spell on me because my mouth was suddenly so dry my
tongue was somehow fused to the gum on the roof of my mouth and the second verse of her theme
song started playing in my head.

"Beg," I breathed aloud, almost singing the word, and then sucked in a shaky breath in
embarrassment.

"Excuse me?" She put one hand on her hip and raised both eyebrows. She was stunning in her
ferocity. My eyes made the trip from her face to the swell of her chest covered in a snug t-shirt and
down her long legs clad in dark jeans to the trainers on her feet.

"Nothing." I said quickly, avoiding her gaze and resentful she was using her stunning alien form and
musical mind control to drive me crazy. I pulled my leg off the stool, and she dumped her tan
camouflage backpack onto the black-surfaced tabletop beside me.

"No, it was definitely something," she challenged. "Did you just tell me to beg?"

She sat down on the empty stool without taking her eyes off me. The thought of this girl begging
made me break out in a sudden sweat and I swallowed hard.

"No," I denied immediately. My voice cracked on the end and it was as good as an admission of guilt.

"Yes you did."

She frowned at me with her brows furrowed.

"You must have misunderstood me."

I frowned right back at her.

"Then what did you say?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

I tried to think of something clever that sounded like 'beg', but wasn't, and ended up blurting out the
first thing that came to mind. "Leg."

"You said leg?" She obviously didn't believe me. Who could blame her? Who would just blurt out the
word 'leg' to a complete stranger for no reason? A voice-cracking, lying, crazy person, apparently.

Her eyes burned into me. I swallowed again and felt my Adam's apple bob up and down like a yoyo.
That had to be really attractive. Hopefully she liked yoyos because clearly I was one.

My mouth started alternating between producing too much saliva and masquerading as the Mojave
Desert at the sight of her so close to me. I pulled the gum out my mouth and stuck it back under the
table.

"I did." I bit back, trying not to sound like a virgin. Or a horny teenager. Although I was obviously both
of those things.

"And..."

"And what?" I was hoping my stalling tactics would get her off topic and onto something more
pleasant like begging me to kiss her.

"What about your leg?" She wet her lip with her tongue again and things started twitching. Things
that shouldn't be twitching in the middle of a classroom full of people.

"Um...it's...asleep." I was talking about my leg here, not the thing that was twitching, because it
definitely wasn't asleep.

"And you think you should announce that to me...why?"

"I thought you'd want to know."

She looked down at my denim-covered leg and her hair brushed against the side of her face. I
wanted to reach up and run the strands through my fingers like some kind of perverted man-ape
with prehensile hands but I was too busy trying to stop things from twitching very close to where her
eyes were focused on my leg. Luckily, the front of my shirttails were long and covered that area.

"Maybe it's dead and it just looks like it's sleeping. You know, like when your parents tell you your
pet goldfish is asleep when it's really dead."

"My leg isn't dead. How could it be dead? I wouldn't be able to walk."

"You would if it was a wooden leg."

"Like a...pirate?" I squeaked. I was suppressing a nervous, hysterical-girl giggle and it was threatening
to burst out of me.

"I guess."

"I don't have a wooden leg." I replied, my voice low, rough and all sexy-like so it wouldn't squeak. I
definitely had wood. It just wasn't in my leg.

She shrugged and smiled, "Too bad. That would be cool." She tapped her fingers on the table top and
then tucked her hair behind her ear.

We didn't speak again while Mr. Banner was explaining our lab assignment and handing out
materials, but I was still staring at her inappropriately out of my peripheral vision and she was
avoiding me by hiding behind her curtain of hair. I suppressed the urge to turn her face with my
finger so she'd have to look at me. The lack of oxygen in my lungs was making me light-headed as I
tried to think up a clever retort to what she'd said, but I couldn't think of anything but how beautiful
she was. The longer I stared, the more testosterone flooded my body and suppressed normal brain
functioning.

"I like pirates," I said before my hormone-infested brain could stop my lips.

The class was suddenly silent and every eye turned to me. Perhaps this explained my paranoia about
being stared at. They were all just waiting for me to say the stupidest words ever uttered by a high
school boy to a pretty girl in a biology classroom. On any planet.

This is Edward's brain. This is Edward's brain on hormones: I like pirates.

Kill. Me. Now.

I adjusted the microscope in front of me and pretended I hadn't spoken. Maybe if I didn't talk again,
ever, I could refrain from screwing this up any more.

She continued to look at me with her mouth open just a little bit in disbelief and then pressed her lips
together tightly. I was pretty sure she was trying not to laugh. At least she was a polite alien. But she
had possibly already sucked my brain out through my eye sockets with her magical hypnotic eyes
because I sure didn't seem to be in possession of it anymore.

"Do you have a name?" she asked, her eyes locking with mine once again.

The whole eye-lock thing seemed to be the key to my undoing. That, combined with her theme song
playing in my head distracted me from my vow to be mute, which is why I gave the following clever
response: "For what?"

She smirked a little. "For you."

"Oh. It's Edward."

"Just the one name then? Most pirates have multiple names, like Long John Silver."

"I'm not a pirate," I said defensively. I just like them. At least I hadn't said that last part aloud this
time.

"That's too bad. You'd look good with dreads. They'd go well with your wooden leg."

"I don't have a...look, can we just do the lab assignment?"

I pulled the microscope a little closer and put on one of the three slides we'd been given.

"Anaphase," she said, leaning in a little closer. I could smell her shampoo or lotion or something and
it unnerved me. She smelled like a girl and her skin looked really soft.

"What?"

"Anaphase," she repeated, her eyes very close to mine.

"You didn't even look," I challenged.

"I don't need to look."

"You're supposed to look."

"You look."

I looked. "Anaphase," I confirmed.

"Metaphase."

"No, it's anaphase, like you said before."

"Metaphase is the next slide," she explained, her lips curving into a smile.

"What?" I was sure she'd think I had some kind of hearing problem. Possibly because a brain was
required for hearing and I no longer had one.

"The next slide is metaphase," she explained slowly and distinctly, like I had a hearing problem.

I looked at her in confusion and she shrugged. "I already did this assignment in Phoenix," she
explained.

"And how exactly does that make you clairvoyant? You didn't even look at the slide."

"The letter is on the side of the slide. A, M, P. Anaphase, metaphase, prophase."

I tipped the slide and saw the tiny letter 'M' in black pen on the side. "Oh."

"So you thought I was psychic?"

"I said clairvoyant."

"Same thing."

"Clearly not, or there wouldn't be two distinct words."

"You're going to split hairs about something that's not even real?" She looked at me askance and I
couldn't blame her. I had no control over the things spewing forth from my mouth.

When I didn't answer, she pulled her backpack toward her and took out an apple, putting it on the
table while she dug around for something. She finally pulled out a well-chewed pencil with a little
sound of satisfaction, accidentally knocking the apple off the table with her elbow in the process. The
apple fell onto the top of my shoe, and I kicked it up with a flick of my toes and caught it with my
hand.

"Wow. That was...wow." She sounded surprised I had any control over my body, which wasn't
surprising since I had no control over my mouth.

"It's a gift."

"What? So you're like some kind of fruit whisperer?"

"Foot-hand coordination from playing football. One of the perks of having a real leg instead of a
wooden one."

"Soccer or football?"

"Football. Soccer is a different sport."

"Depends where you live. In Europe they call soccer, football."

"I don't live in Europe."

She nodded sagely. "That would explain why you go to school in Forks."

She wrote the word 'anaphase' down on the sheet with her mangled pencil, and I pushed the next
slide onto the microscope.

"Metaphase," I said, proudly, like I had been the first one to recognize it, and then reached over,
pulled the paper out from under her hand, and wrote in the word with my pen.

She pulled the paper back to her side of the table and wrote 'prophase' in the last blank with her
pencil.

"We should at least look at the last slide to make sure," I insisted.

"Why? Through the process of elimination and by the label on the side we can conclude it's
prophase."

"What if it's a trick?"

"Why would it be a trick?"

"Sometimes there's a trick. I can't blow my GPA. I need to get into med school."

"Then go ahead and look." She gestured toward the slide and I dragged my eyes away from hers.

"Prophase," I confirmed as I squinted through the eyepiece.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you need some kind of bedside manner to be a doctor?"

"Not if your GPA is high enough. You can be a complete dick."

"I see. So you're planning to be a dick doctor?"

"No." I could have stopped there and if I'd had a brain I probably would have, but no, I continued, "I
try to avoid dicks. Except for my own, of course."

"Of course. Your dick would be pretty hard to avoid."

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration and squeezed my eyes shut for a second. This
conversation had totally gotten away from me and hearing the word 'hard' in conjunction with my
dick was definitely making it that way. How did we get onto the topic of my dick anyway? It was last
thing in the world I wanted to be discussing in a high school biology class with Yorkie sitting right
behind me hanging on my every word with eyebrow and other things cocked at the mention of my
dick.

I put the first slide back on the microscope in an effort to change the subject.

"Yup. Still anaphase," I announced proudly, like I'd found the cure for the common cold.

"Good thing you double-checked."

"I like to be thorough."

"I guess you have to if you want to be a licensed dick doctor, even though you have something
against dicks."

"I don't have anything against dicks." I didn't realize my voice has risen until I noticed the whole
classroom looking at me. And more than just Yorkie's eyebrows were cocked.

I ran both hands through my hair and then tried to pretend I was invisible by hiding my face in my
hands and leaning my elbows on the table.

She must have sensed my embarrassment because her next words were low and soothing. "I'm Bella
Swan, by the way."

I lifted my head up and put out my hand. "Edward Cullen."

The moment she put her hand inside mine and our skin touched, there some kind of weird electrical-
crackling-heat thing going on. I dropped her hand abruptly and it flopped down to the table.

"I have a thing," she said, apologetically with a slight smile and a blush that turned her cheeks pink
and made me catch my breath.

"A thing?"

"A brain thing. I don't think—ergo talk—like other people."

Well, understandably, most aliens did not think like humans, so this wasn't much of a surprise to me.

I made the mistake of looking directly at her again and got distracted by her eyelashes, which were
long and thick. That, and the fact that my hand was still tingling, is the only explanation I could give
for why the next words erupted out of me.

"You should get that fixed."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I closed my eyes and pretended I was invisible again because I
was sure that could counteract any kind of alien superpower she might have that would permanently
seal my lips shut. Or better yet annihilate me on the spot, leaving only my dick behind for revenge.

When I opened my eyes, she was still looking at me and her song started running through my head
again. I was done for. She was it for me. I looked down at the table and shrunk down onto my stool.

After that, I avoided her like the plague as much as I could, but of course we had to speak in biology.
And that was really where the problem lay. If I could have communicated telepathically instead of
having to speak out loud, I might have stood a chance because I could have told her how beautiful
she was instead of telling her to get her brain fixed, when really it was my brain that was the
problem.

My head snapped up as I felt the movement of her body on the hospital bed.

I watched her eyelids twitch and a low groan emitted from her dry, chapped lips before they moved.

"Am I dead?" she croaked out hoarsely.

She hadn't used her vocal chords for days, so her voice was low and raspy, but I'd never heard a
more beautiful sound in the entire world.

I jumped up from my chair so I could be nearer her lips. "No, you're not dead." I tried to infuse
reassurance into my voice, all the while begging silently for her eyes to open.

"Am I blind?"

I couldn't keep the smile out of my voice. She was conscious. And in spite of her injuries, I could hear
strength in her voice. "No, you're not blind, either."

"Why can't I see?"

I wanted to touch her, to kiss her and comfort her, but didn't want to overwhelm her so I used my
voice to convey my concern. "You have a bandage over one eye and the other eye is closed."

"Oh. I can't open my eyes."

"Well then, you should probably sleep."

"Okay, God."

Her lips curved into a slight smile and mine did too. Whatever condition she was in, whatever
problems lay ahead in her recovery, I could deal with because my brown-eyed girl was back.