A/N: I have a BA in Anthropology, just graduated about a year ago. Essentially, this me and my fantasies rolled in together. Nothing Bella says or thinks is something I haven't thought or said before. We're both huge geeks in this case. AND it's one of my only E/B fics, and I don't even mention Emmett once. I think I'm sick... *laughs* I hope you enjoy it!

Many apologies to tuleangel for not having her beta this... no one has. I was in need of review therapy so I figured this might do the trick. Hehe. Love you hun. :-)

Disclaimer: My dorktastic story, but not my characters. I just make them be like me sometimes. *laughs*

My fingers trailed over the glass case, looking over each and every label. We'd spent the entire day working on just this case alone… it had to be perfect. My eyes passed over every label, making sure each one was lined up and centered perfectly, responding to the correlating object. And were the objects lined up just right? Did they make sense together as a unit? As a collection?

Yeah, I was being anal retentive, but I was the curator. It was my job.

I frowned as I saw that the label in the very back had three spelling errors. This may be a liberal arts college museum and not the Smithsonian, but we had to try harder. Pretend we WERE the Smithsonian. That was the point.

I unlocked and slid the glass case open from the back, and thanked my genes that my hand was small enough to squeeze back there as I carefully pulled the label out. I frowned. Whichever staff member had made this label had been sloppy, and there were still ribbons of wet rubber cement around the edges. I peeled it off slowly, needing the backing to stay intact. We didn't have the budget of the Smithsonian either.

I wandered back into our archaeology lab. Well, that's what the sign said on the door, but in actuality it was mostly a storage room for the sociology and archaeology department at my school, with a collection of varied donated objects for our museum stored in a little room at the back. It was kind of sad… but this place was also my second home.

I loved museums, even as a kid. I'd drag my father Charlie to them all the time when we had summers together in California, and the ones I'd loved best were the natural history museums. I loved the world and the people who lived in it. The ones that had come before. The ones that left us with all of this great stuff to study and learn from and grow from. Growing up in Arizona, I relished field trips to nearby reservations and archaeological digs. It was soaked into my very soul, the need to understand people.

Maybe because I felt so misunderstood myself.

I'd always been a loner, lost in my own world, whether it be books, the latest documentary on a tribe in Africa, or on my hands and knees in the dirt, thinking about the things that might be hidden beneath me. My mom Renee thought I was crazy. I was a girl. I wasn't supposed to be digging for dinosaur bones at age four or thinking about culturally sensitive topics at age thirteen for my class projects. It wasn't normal in her book. No, I didn't like makeup or thinking about fashion… meaningless to me.

So it was only natural I become an anthropology major when I went to college. I dabbled in other fields, English especially, but I realized I could still write even if I still learned about other cultures and how to dig in the dirt properly for objects.

It's where my heart belonged.

Now, I went to a small school in Washington, and I was content. I wasn't a nameless face in the crowd for once, and I wasn't a freak anymore either. I was taken seriously, by my professors and my peers, and it made me happier than I had ever felt in my life.

Except for one thing.

Edward fucking Masen. The douche bag thought he was the king of the SoAn department, and I wanted to strangle him, even though he was so awfully beautiful. He was one of those guys that thought the heavens and earth opened up to him if he just flashed a grin and muttered a few smart things. And the worst part was, he wasn't wrong. I worked hard for everything… and I mean everything I did. This jackass thought he walked on water because his parents were doctors and he grew up in Africa until he was twelve and knew more about the world since he'd lived on more than one continent.

I hated that I loved that and was jealous. I'd grown up in Forks and Phoenix. Not exactly exotic.

And speak of the devil…

Edward strode into the lab like he owned the place, and I fought the urge to let out a loud, exasperated sigh. I had been enjoying the time to myself in the lab, for once not being bothered by newbies who didn't even know how to catalogue an object.

"What are you doing here?" I asked crankily, looking down at the computer screen I was using to change the errors on the label.

"Jared asked me to stay and help him with his research," Edward said with a smug smile. He thought he was so cool, helping the profs do their work. To be honest, I was jealous. Tanya had asked me to help her with grad research in China, compiling for a book to be published, but it wasn't the same. Edward was going to actually be doing field research. It made me want to growl at him.

"That's nice," I said stiffly, and hit print on the new label. I still didn't look at him, mainly because he always made me angry, but also because looking at him made the inside of me flutter, and I didn't want to admit that, even to myself. My heart gave a hard thump, against my own will.

I could hear the smirk as he stood behind me, watching me cut the label precisely to size. I could feel his presence radiating behind me, and it made me feel really uncomfortable. I was entirely too aware of him. It was like I knew he was judging everything I did. I could just see the self satisfied smirk now. Bastard.

"What was wrong with the last one?" he asked.

"Someone spelled things wrong," I growled, feeling him lean in closer to watch me. "Will you STOP?" I whirled around in my seat and glared at him. His face was a whole lot closer to mine than I had anticipated. He didn't budge an inch or flinch, just gave me a lop-sided grin which should not have aroused me the way it was. "I'm trying to work," I said through my clenched teeth. "Do you mind?"

He smirked again and stepped over the lab table, fiddling with a ruler. I physically relaxed, but my heart was still pounding out of my chest. I took a deep breath to try and calm myself, turning back to my work. In a few minutes, everything was in order, and I was looking at a perfect, and dare I say, professional looking label for our exhibit. I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

Edward was now fiddling with a piece of the collection we'd already catalogued and packed away carefully for storage. "I already did that," I snapped.

"Well part of the wrapping was coming off," he fired back. "Unless you want this Pre-Colombian pottery to shatter everywhere?"

I could strangle him. Self-righteous, pompous, know it all…

"Fine," I said, took my label and my keys with me so I could get back into the case. Edward was messing with my perfectly acceptable work, muttering under his breath as I stormed out of the lab. "Don't forget to lock up!" I called after him, in my snitty tone. There was just something about him that rubbed me the wrong way, and I wanted to just slip the guy a little something into his drink so that he'd shut up for a good long while.

The idea pleasured me greatly.

( * ) ( * )

"Remind me why you hate this guy again?" Angela said, taking a sip of her milk. Really, we were seniors in college, and she still drank milk with her dinner. So very Osmond family of her. I took a long pull from my beer.

"He just pisses me off, that's all," I said. "Something rubs me the wrong way."

She smirked. "You know I bet you'd be in a better mood if he rubbed you the right way." She gave me a knowing smile and took a huge bite of her pizza, looking smug as a fat housecat.

"Shut up," I said, and turned the TV up louder. Tyra was going on about internet dating, and just how dangerous it could be. She's a model. I don't know why she thinks she has brains enough to analyze human behavior, but Angela couldn't get enough of that shit so I indulged her. We'd been roommates since freshman year when we awkwardly met on the first day of orientation. I loved her to death, and we fit well as roommates. The only times we didn't was when her boyfriend Ben visited for the weekend and I had to make myself scarce. I didn't do shared wall banging.

She dropped the subject, but this wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation, and I knew it wouldn't be the last. I set my plate full of pizza crumbs aside and picked up my book. It was heavy, full of highlighter marks and checkered with dozens of fluorescent post-it notes. As much as I loved my major, I hated this part. The hours and hours of studying. I was hands-on, I didn't want to study about other people studying. Ugh.

About ten minutes in, I realized I'd forgotten something.

"Oh FUCK!" I shouted, so loudly that Angela jumped. She was doing math- how she ever got math done with the TV blaring I have no idea. I could barely do long division.

"What?" She got all dramatic and put her hand over her heart like I'd nearly killed her or something.

"I forgot to borrow a book for class discussion tomorrow," I wailed. This was not a travesty in and of itself. It was who I had to get the book from that bugged me. And then… "Shit. That's why he was there. Motherfucker…"

"Huh?"

"Edward, he showed up in lab tonight, and I didn't know why, I thought it was just to annoy me. He was probably trying to give me the book, and he's such an ass he probably wanted me to ask him for it."

"I'll be he does," she said dryly, and I glared at her. I didn't like her insinuations. As if I wanted Edward Masen to want me in his bed. The mere idea was laughable. I stalked to my room and grabbed my heavy sweater. I was freezing indoors, and I hated that I'd have to walk halfway across campus to his apartment just so I could borrow a book he had with him when he bugged me earlier. Like I said, douche bag.

"If I'm not back in a half an hour-"

"I'll take it as a sign that he's fucking you against a stack of books about the Zulu or the Maya or the people of Siberia," she smirked. I very nearly growled at her.

"First of all, his books would be on the !Kung or maybe the Huli-"

"Bella… just go," Angela sighed. It usually annoyed her when I got into my anthropology-speak, she was so much of a math nerd that she had a hard time seeing what wasn't cut and dried. Anthropology is a fluid science, always fluctuating and, in her eyes, unstable because that is the nature of humanity.

But I digress. Because that's kind of what anthropologists do.

I slammed the door a little bit harder than I should have as I walked into the cloudless, starry night. I could see my breath as I walked under the little street lamps, and I cursed Edward again. I was freezing my nips off getting this fucking book. Not fair.

I got there in under ten minutes, partly because I was walking fast to keep my heart rate up. I knew where he lived, because firstly our school was tiny, less than two thousand students, and secondly, because I'd been there once before for a study session. His roommate, Jasper Whitlock, had been in my mandatory world history class, and we'd had to study for finals together once. Edward had sat on the couch sullenly, shooting glares at me the entire time. Once, while he wasn't looking, I flicked a rubber band at his head, and silently laughed my ass off as he tried to figure out what had hit him.

I climbed the flight of stairs, passing one of the few students on campus I'd never seen before, and jogged in place at his door as I knocked. I wished I had brought gloves, my fingers were like little individual icicles.

"Come on, come on, come on…" I muttered as I kept on knocking. I heard movement, so I knew someone was inside. They'd best not be fucking ignoring me or else-

I fought the urge not to gasp. There, standing in the now open doorway, which was flooding out heat and light, was Edward Masen. Shirtless. Wet. And in a white fucking towel hanging dangerously low around his hips. Of all things holy…

I was staring. My mouth was hanging open. He was smirking, which meant he knew I was gaping… but I couldn't stop myself. My eyes wandered up and down his body, which was surprisingly built and defined… oh God, he was defined… and the little trail of hair leading down his body towards his…

I gulped and snapped my eyes back to his face. Which was just about as much of a mistake as looking at his body, but really, I'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to appreciate that shit. And even if I was… I'd still get the picture.

"Looking for this?" Edward reached over to the coffee table and I fought the urge to stare at his ass, hoping the towel would slip just a little bit further… He held out the book to me, and I took it quickly, hugging it to my chest.

"Yes. Thank you," I mumbled, and before I could humiliate myself further, or jump his bones, I stumbled out the door, literally, and practically raced across campus. I could hear his laughter ringing through my ears, so low and seductive, that I hated that it attracted me even as I hated him more.

I ignored Angela as I stormed into the apartment, dramatically flinging myself on the bed and throwing a pillow over my head. I think this habit came from watching Beauty & The Beast a few too many times when I was a kid, when a heartbroken Belle realizes she's trapped herself in a castle with a hideous creature, and all is lost…

I'm awesome like that.

My hormones should NOT be reacting like this. Sure, it's an evolutionary reaction, instinct, to be attracted to a fit, young, handsome man. He was healthy and had vital, viable sperm that would give me healthy children fit for survival. He could provide for us, with his smarts, be a hunter and gatherer of sorts. No one in their right mind could ever blame me for wanting to pull the towel away and make myself comfortable in his lap. Comfortable as in his cock deep inside me.

I groaned. I was trying my best to see this as human instinct rather than desire; desire was so much harder to analyze rationally. Though, there was nothing rational about what I wanted Edward Masen to do to me. I was so screwed.

I forced myself to read, but every sentence came out as a blur. I knew I had to write a précis on it tonight or else Eric would frown at me and give me an A- instead of an A+. OK, that was an exaggeration, but still. I had to get it done. At least get the gist of what I was reading. Any thread of concept. Anything.

Edward's abs, Edward's smirk, Edward's thinly veiled package…

Yeah. This was not going to work. I was so thoroughly screwed. Or rather, not screwed. And that was the problem.

I was no virgin, but I also wasn't known for my prowess or popularity when it came to sex. I'd only had it with one guy, and even then, it wasn't spectacular. Jake was a good friend and wonderful person in general, but the sex thing just didn't work so well for us. We were much better as friends, and we still talked every once in awhile, even though he was now in the business department, and everyone knew that the SoAn department had nothing to do with them.

To be honest, I was probably shit at sex, and a guy like Edward, looking the way he did, had to be some kind of god. Because honestly, though I hated to admit it, he was good at everything else…

Which reminded me why I hated the man so much, which helped me to get back a little bit of clarity. Edward was the bad guy. Bad guys were usually smoking hot, but they were ruthless and no matter how good they were in bed, they were still the bad guy in the end. Hopefully, they'd get shot by me, the good girl, before they got away in their expensive helicopters and flew to a secret base on a secret island.

I needed to stop watching so many James Bond movies. Or was that Austin Powers?

Reading, I needed to concentrate on reading…

The next thing I knew, light was streaming from my bedroom window. My eyes snapped open, realizing my lamp, my computer, and my iPod were all still running, and that I was running late. 10:30? How was this possible? I had class in an hour, and a paper that I didn't write. Fuck fuck fuck…

Angela was standing in the kitchen making a cup of tea as I stormed out of my bedroom. She let out a little scream. "What in the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "You're supposed to be at lab!"

"Don't remind me," I said in a panic. Though it wasn't required, I spent a lot of extra time trying to get this exhibit together in time for the opening, and I needed all of the time I could get to be in the lab. I threw together a hasty peanut butter sandwich and plopped on the couch with the book. If I was lucky, and I didn't take a shower, I'd be able to get this paper done before class. If not, I was fucked. "He can't win, he can't win, he can't win…"

Angela laughed softly, muttering something about being sex deprived, but I was so busy cooking the books I ignored her. I had to get this into my head… all seventy-five pages… or else I wouldn't be able to lead discussion today. At this point it wasn't even a matter of grades. It was a matter of pride. He'd be there, and I couldn't let him know he's affected me in any way, shape or form.

Somehow, I got the damn thing done, though it was the sloppiest and most half-hearted paper I'd ever written, and I knew it was full of shit. I'd have to depend on Mike Newton to lead discussion, and the very idea disgusted me. He was overly eager and made no secret of the fact that he wanted me.

Definitely not interested.

And now Edward would know I wasn't prepared. He'd be sitting there, on the other side of the circle of desks, his feet crossed at the ankles, stretched out with his books in front of him, arms crossed because he didn't need to look at his notes, he already knew what he was going to say. Arrogant.

The smirk alone would make me furious.

But now was not the time. I emailed my copy to my professor, happy they decided to go paperless in the department, because otherwise I would have been royally late in the computer lab. I stuffed my notes into my bag, Edward's god-forsaken book in my bag, and got the hell out of Dodge, barely saying goodbye to Angela.

Five hours later, I sat slumped in my chair in the lab, alone again. Most of the professors had gone home by now, and Jared had given me the keys again to lock up. I was sitting on a mess. Not literally. Politically and historically. Anyone who says that museums are merely glass cases full of old dusty things are completely insane. You can mess up so quickly, offending people with a single word, and destroy the way an entire generation views something. I knew that I worked in a small museum, but this was still of utmost importance to me. It had to be perfect.

And I didn't know what to do. We'd had an entire class discussing this very topic and still hadn't come up an appropriate decision. Now the final decision rested between myself, the curator, and Jared, the professor. He and I were still on the fence.

I heard a soft knock on the door, and I jumped a little, pulled away from my conundrum. I figured it had to be a professor who hadn't gone home, maybe Eric since he liked using the computer in here from time to time. Instead, as I pulled open the door, I saw the copper mess of hair and that goddamn half-smirk thing he had going on.

"Edward, what are you doing here?" I asked wearily. I hated all of this being alone with him, and the fact that my heart gave a hard thump in my chest as I took him in. It should be illegal, or at least frowned upon, for men to wear pants like that, snug in all the right places…

"If you don't want my help…" he said, pointing to the mess of papers on the table. "I'll go."

And I was just that desperate. I caved and stepped aside for him to enter, trying not to inhale his soapy, slightly musky scent that sent my ovaries into overdrive. Pheromones, I told myself. We must have different immune systems, nature is telling me he's compatible for viable young…

I was so full of shit even I recognized it at this point.

I joined him on the opposite side of the table. He was rifling through my notes, nodding slightly. I tried to ignore the magnificent jaw porn he was delivering, making me want to lick the contours. Damn it!

"So what have you decided?" he asked, still looking at one of my papers.

I sighed. "I just don't know." I felt myself sliding back into academia, and it relaxed me. This, I could do. "It's like, if we share the donator's story, it's acknowledging racism. And if we don't-"

"Then we're leaving out the history, the genuine beliefs and fears of the time," Edward finished, nodding, but for once it wasn't a condescending tone, it was conversational. Like we were actually having a civilized discussion.

"So you see the dilemma," I said with a sigh.

"Well then here's the real issue," he said, and we launched into the nuances and pains of this problem. It seemed like hours, and I felt myself relax more and more as we talked. This was the most open and honest I'd ever seen him. All traces of arrogance and self-love were gone from his face. He was just a student, I was just the curator, and we talked freely, laughing and smiling when it felt right to.

It was unsettling and disturbing.

"So we're in agreement?" he clarified an hour later. My notebook was now full of notes, because I found that talking to Edward challenged me, and not just because I wanted to fight him. I felt like maybe I could learn from him, and he could learn from me. Or at least he should. I'm pretty witty.

"I think so," I said, stifling a yawn. It had been a long day, and I was incredibly tired from all the stress and rushing I'd been doing all day long. Suddenly, I remembered just why I had been so rushed, and I felt my spine stiffen just a little bit. "Thanks for your help, Edward."

"Any time, Isabella," he said, and I really hated how I loved the way he said my name. I always hated Isabella, but not from his lips. It was like some bloody musical.

Relax, Bella, it's not like he's Curly from Oklahoma! He's more like… And then I had to pause and sift through my musical theatre knowledge, trying to think of a comparison. By the time I'd gone through all of the Rogers and Hammerstein characters in my head, Edward was done gathering his books and staring at me like I was an idiot.

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?" Edward said, like he'd already said it ten times and I missed it.

"Yup," I said, trying not to sound too distracted. "Later, Edward."

He gave me a certifiably panty-dampening smirk, and then sauntered out of the lab.

That night, after getting to bed at a reasonable hour with my homework all done, tidily sitting out on the edge of my desk, I dreamt of Edward Masen pressing me up against the glass cases of the museum and having his naughty, wicked way with me.

( * ) ( * )

A week later, the dreams hadn't gone away, and I was getting pissed off. No only was Edward starting to be the star of my dreams every single night, but he was becoming more and more omnipresent in my life. He was at the optional lectures I went to, lab every single afternoon, and sometimes I swore he followed me to the library. I didn't know if he was actually following me, or if I was just more hyper-aware of him.

It bugged me that I noticed every little thing about him. How he didn't shave every single day, and that I sometimes caught myself fantasizing about how his stubble would feel against my cheek, along my inner thigh… How he never wore shirts with long sleeves, and if he did, how he'd push them up to his elbows. God, I loved his forearms. Such a strange thing to fantasize in a man. But I couldn't help it. The sheer musculature was drool-worthy.

I was going batty over him. He still drove me insane, and I still wanted to strangle him, but the sexual tension ate away at me. Angela teased me endlessly when she noticed I'd started daydreaming instead of having my usual rambling conversations, or the time she caught me Facebook stalking him under the guise of looking at department photos.

"Look at those green eyes," she sighed, like I was looking at Teen Beat magazine instead of a SoAn barbeque photo album. "Can't you just imagine what your kids would look like?"

"Our kids?" I gaped incredulously. "Are you fucking nuts Angela?"

She shrugged. "It's not like you haven't thought about swapping at the very least spit with him, Bella."

She had a point there. But that didn't mean I wanted to admit it. "Whatever, Angela," I said, logging off of Facebook quickly. "I've got stuff to do…"

"Riiiight," she said sarcastically, snatching the remote from next to me, switching to the latest soap opera that was holding her attention. God knew how she stood the endless drama. I tried to stay away from it as much as possible, fictional or otherwise. No one knew about the stack of Nora Robert's books tucked away behind my clothes basket.

Reading those damn things before I went to bed certainly wasn't helping the sex dreams I kept having. I was about to throw them out the window in a sad attempt to make them stop. Somehow, I didn't think that would help at this point.

My cell phone rang, breaking me out of my train of thought. I didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Bella?" My heart gave a hard thump.

"Edward?" I knew it was him, I was just confused. How'd he get my number? "How'd you get my number?" I demanded, following my thoughts.

"I asked Mike," he said, and I groaned. I'd strangle that little twerp. The fact that he even had my number always freaked me out a little bit. "Did I interrupt anything?"

"No," I said, even though I knew I was blushing somewhat guiltily. Damn Facebook to hell anyways. "What do you want?" I was being rude, but at this point I just didn't care.

"I was wondering if you needed to study for that test tomorrow," he said in that damn silky smooth voice of his. I would rob a bank if he asked me in that voice. I would follow him straight to bed if he asked me… and I hated him for it.

"No," I said stiffly. "I mean, I need to study for it, but I don't-"

"I'll be right over," he said huskily, and I shivered before I could stop myself.

"No-" I started to protest, but it was too late, he'd hung up. I stared at the phone blankly with my mouth hanging open, startling when Angela brought me out of my shock. I'd forgotten she was even in the room.

"You're flaming bright red, so don't even deny that was Edward," she smirked, flipping open a text book. I glared at her and stalked to my room. I realized that I was in a Catch-22 now. Edward was coming here; how he even knew where I lived was beyond me. Jasper or soon-to-be-dead Mike probably told him. And if we sat in the living room and studied, Angela would never leave and would have this whole self-satisfied smirk on her face that I'd want to punch, and Edward would know something was up. But if we went into my room, I'd never hear the end of it. I kept imagining Angela standing at my door with a glass to her ear, trying to hear every word.

There was a knock at the door before I could even run a brush through my hair, and my heart burst into a hard pace. "Fuck," I muttered, storming to the door. He stood there with a smirk, his hair messy and practically standing on end, and before I could rape him at the door, I whirled back around without saying a word. I could hear his quiet chuckle behind me, and then the small talk between himself and Angela as I stormed into my bedroom, flinging the door open. If he wanted to come in, he'd come in, but I wasn't going to invite the fucker in.

I didn't know why the rage ate at me, but it did. I think the sexual frustration was killing me slowly, and the only thing I knew to do was lash out at the source of it. The bane of my fucking existence. Edward fucking Masen, who was currently standing in my doorway, staring at my basket of laundry.

Oh shit, the floral granny panties…

"Um…" I moved in front of the basket, in an incredibly lame attempt to get Edward's gaze averted from my epically bad need-to-do-laundry-soon garments. "You wanted to study?"

Edward's smirk made me want to simultaneously clock him and eat his face off with my lips. "Yeah," he said, sitting on my bed. I had to steady myself for a second to keep from leaping into his arms and making Dream #43 come true. "I brought the books, and I think you still have mine…"

"So you want to just go over the basic arguments in class? Or do you think that we should cover the whole text?" I said, looking at everything but him as I distanced myself at my desk, trying hard not to imagine Edward sprawled out with his sex hair on my pillow.

"Just the basics," he said, acting oblivious except for the corners of his lips that tugged upwards. Bastard.

So we went over the talking points, over and over again, all the things we'd discussed in class. To be honest, I was glad that he was helping me, though I was suspicious as to why. Normally study groups were prearranged and it wasn't like this was a huge test we had to study for for ages, it was more like a quiz we knew about a few days in advance. No big thing. So why was he here?

My rational mind knew that he wasn't out to get me. That he was a cocky, arrogant bastard, but that he mainly just annoyed me because of my sexual attraction to him.

I never really was that rational.

I studied his profile, allowing myself to enjoy a little jaw porn before snapping back to my book. "Well I think that about covers it," I said, trying to get him the hell out of my room. My sheets were going to smell like him now. "So I guess you should get going…"

"Do you hate me?" he asked abruptly.

My jaw dropped. "N-n-n-no…" I lied.

"It just seems like you spend most of your time glaring at me. And you really shouldn't… it makes your eyes all dark and angry looking."

Whoa. He noticed my eyes?

"I don't hate you… much…" I admitted. "You just irritate the hell out of me."

"Why?" He looked genuinely confused.

"You think you know everything," I said frankly. "Or at least that's how it seems."

He frowned. "Really?"

"Yes really, it drives me fucking insane, and it makes me just wanna strangle you, to be perfectly honest."

I instantly regretted being so honest, he looked like he was about to cry or something. OK, that was a lie, but he looked upset. "Does everyone think that about me?"

"Uh… I don't know…" I said, because it's not like it was a hot topic in the SoAn department. Most people thought Edward walked on water.

"So just you then?" A tiny smirk ended up on his lips, and I cleared my throat.

"So we about done here?" The half-grin never left his face as he stood up, making me feel tiny as he towered above me. I stood to even us out, but even then, he was a good half-foot taller than me, and I felt tiny beside him. Feminine. My breath caught in my throat as we stood there, staring into each others eyes, his green ones piercing into my soul, my heart beating out of my chest. I could scarcely breathe, and it just got worse when I realized he was leaning forward, and so was I. What in the hell was happening?

The moments passed by like centuries. I was hyper aware of everything- my blood pounding through my veins, how his breathing was just as shaky as mine, how neither of us could tear away, just how close we really were, how he smelled like Old Spice…

"Bella," he breathed, and I nearly creamed my panties. It was pure sex, pure lust, and I needed him. The connection between us was undeniable, and I'd still never even touched the man.

"Edward," I said just as softly, my body propelling me forward, without my will. Or maybe I wanted to. I couldn't help it. This was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I had more hormones racing through me now than I ever had having sex with Jake. And then we were, you know, touching. The only thing I could feel was the crackling energy between us. I was almost afraid to touch him. Irrationally, I thought it might electrocute me.

"Bella?" Angela shouted, piercing the air, making me jump. I noted that Edward was just as startled, licking his lips nervously, which didn't help anything. I fought back the raging blush on my cheeks and chest, and swallowed hard once before asking her what she wanted.

"I'm gonna go get some dinner, does Edward want pizza?" Her voice seemed shrill.

I bit my bottom lip nervously. "Do you?"

"Sure," he said, his voice husky. I shivered helplessly.

"OK," I whispered, and then walked into the living room. I couldn't take it. I was about to bust out a stripper pole and do some sort of Pamela Anderson thing if he kept looking at me like that, and I couldn't let myself.

My resolve was breaking and I hated it.

"Let's watch some TV or something," I suggested. If we were in a public space, preferably on different ends of the room, I could think more clearly, or at least a little less erotically.

He nodded. "There's this documentary on the History Channel that I thought might be interesting," he suggested, and I grabbed the remote as I plopped down on the chair across the room from him. Distance. Good.

We watched in silence, and it was like torture keeping my eyes off of him. Our little encounter back there had made me twitchy, and I was desperate to not show him how I was hot and bothered by it. I think my nipples might have been a little bit hard from it. It seemed like twelve years before Angela showed up once more, our friend Jessica on tow. Well fuck.

"Bella!" she squealed, like we hadn't just seen each other two hours ago in class. She was an exercise science major whose goal was to made Jane Fonda-esque videos stylish again. She drove me nuts but she was sweet. "Oh!" She stopped abruptly in her tracks as she took in Edward on the couch. "Hello." Her smile was wide and obvious.

"Hey there," he said, offering his hand. "I'm Edward Masen."

"I know," she blurted out, and then blushed almost as deeply as me. "I mean, I've heard about you before, Angela was just saying how you and B were studying…"

"Right," he said with an awkward laugh, and looked down at his feet.

Wow. I'd never been one to wish myself away from situations, but it seemed like this was one of them. Jessica and Angela kept chattering away about this one guy Jessica may or may not date, and how soon was too soon, and if she were just flexible enough maybe she could try that one thing she read about in Cosmo…

And Edward just kept staring at the wall, looking like he wanted to die too. I could have sworn he muttered something like "worth it" under his breath, but I was pretty sure I was hallucinating.

The rest of the next hour went on like this as we ate our pizza, and when Edward finally left, my entire body slumped over in my chair. I had no idea I was so tense, and when I sighed, Jessica and Angela's gaze snapped at me. I covered my face with my hands as Angela asked, "What in the hell was that?"

"I have no idea," I moaned.

( * ) ( * )

The exhibit was opening tomorrow and I was in a right state of panic. For some reason, people didn't feel the need to help me, and I was getting desperate. Lauren, my last hope, had sauntered out of the lab, over an hour ago, claiming she had some sort of study group to meet with for theory, but I was pretty sure she just wanted to do her nails. And my prof had had a family emergency and couldn't stay to help me. "I know you can do this, Bella," he said with a smile and a reassuring pat on my shoulder. "We're almost done, this is just the final touch ups. You can do it."

"You better be right," I joked, feeling frazzled already.

This was three hours ago, and I was still nowhere near done. I was near to tears. Didn't these other people worry about this exhibit? Or their grade at the very least? I know this wasn't mandatory for the class, but it should be, if only for my sanity.

So when Edward, being the stalker he is, joined me in the lab, I nearly hugged him, and it had nothing to do with my uterus being so fond of him now.

"Oh God, Edward, I need you!" My Freudian Slip didn't escape his notice, but I didn't care. "Everything is a mess!"

"Calm down Bella, it'll be fine," he said with a smile. "I promise."

And I believed him. He would be there for me. Lately, it seemed like he always was, and that was a bizarre sensation. I thrust a stack of papers at him. "Here, look these over, make sure that we've covered all of the plans."

"From memory?"

"Well if you want to go down to the museums and look, you can…" I was too busy to hold his hand through this. "I've just got to get this down like, yesterday, so…"

"Bella." Edward caught my hand as I hurried past him, and I froze. The cliché of electricity flowing between us was not unfounded as his thumb stroked the back of my hand. I almost patted my hair down to make sure it wasn't full of static. "Please, calm down. You're making me stressed out, and I know if we just take a deep breath, we can get this done. Tonight. Don't worry."

Ohh, God, it was not easy to resist him when he was like this. Like a human being instead of a walking poster child for over-achievement. His eyes had lost that know-it-all quality, the smirk into a smile. I melted a little.

"You're right," I said, almost breathless. My heart was doing the jack hammer thing again, but it didn't even bother me now. Now was not the time to be thinking about sex, it was about Native American craftwork and labels and clean glass cases and making sure everything was perfect. "Let's work."

Hours later, I don't even know how many, just that it was dark outside and the custodians were walking through the building, and I was elbow deep in cleaning supplies. Finally, finally, we were finished. I slid the key into the lock of the final glass case and sighed in catharsis. Could we really and truly be done?

It looked like… a museum. Not a big one. I think my dorm was bigger than this. Only a few glass cases lined the walls, and the blank spaces were filled with photos and a big Navaho rug. It was beautiful, and protected by a small glass pane in case visitors got curious. It was… good. I hugged my arms to my chest as I looked around, and was satisfied.

Edward startled me as he entered the room behind me. "Looks good," he said, crossing his arms over his chest like me, surveying the scene. "You did a great job."

"It wasn't just me, though it seemed like it sometimes," I laughed. "You did a good job too you know." I nudged him with my elbow, and tried to ignore the little shots of lightening that sparked between us. From the look on his face, I'd say the feeling was mutual, and that freaked me out just a little bit.

"Thanks," he said, humbly. I smiled. "And now it's late, I need to walk you back to your place."

Uh… what?

"I'll be fine," I insisted. "It's not that far…"

"It's dark," he said sharply. "It's not safe."

"Edward, I'll be fine."

"No, I'm escorting you back home, you never know who's wandering around out there."

"Escorting? What are you, a hundred years old? And besides, I walk around on campus alone all the time and I'm fine. I walked to your apartment alone that one time."

He looked appalled. "I thought Angela walked with you."

"Um, no, I'm not five."

"Isabella, do you have any idea what could happen to you, a young, attractive woman all alone at night?"

My mouth dropped open in shock. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"It's not that you can't, Bella," he insisted. "It's that people aren't trustworthy anymore, anyone could be out there… No matter. I'm walking you home and that's final."

I growled. "Fine." Stupid man. Thinking women are weak and helpless…

"It's late, let's go," he urged, and we walked back the lab to get our stuff. I was just shrugging on my coat when he stopped me. "Bella? Can I ask you something?"

"What?" I said, still irritated, flinging my purse over my shoulder.

"Do you feel it too?"

"What?"

He stepped closer to me, and my eyes widened, focusing on his face. My heart was racing insanely now. "This? This… crazy need to be close? The attraction?"

"Um…" was all I could say, feeling a bit like Bambi in the headlights. Where in the fuck was this coming from?

"It's just… when you're mad at me, I feel it more strongly. Maybe that's why I like to annoy you," he mused. "I'd like to test my theory, would you mind?"

"W-w-what theory?" I stammered.

"If I kiss you-" My heart exploded.

"Kiss me?" I squeaked. "You want to… kiss me?"

He gave me a lop sided grin that could kill. "Just a little."

"Umm," I said dumbly, because I didn't know what on earth to say beyond an ecstatic "YES!"

I didn't notice until the small of my back bumped up against the lab table that he was walking towards me and I was moving backwards. Papers rustled behind me, and my purse fell to the ground, and I didn't even really register it. My eyes were focused on his mouth, which was speaking, though I didn't hear a single word. There was this sort of buzzing in my ears, my mouth dry, so I licked my lips. And I guess he took that as a sign because…

His lips crushed against mine, arms wrapping around my waist as I whimpered in surprise. God, I couldn't even think anymore as his lips closed over my bottom lip, nibbling it gently before swiping his tongue across the seam of my lips, which I opened immediately because I'm no idiot. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and I kissed him back with vigor. I was up on my tip-toes, trying to reach his mouth, our tongues playing together.

I was dizzy. There was nothing in this world but this kiss. I was panting into his mouth, unwilling to part from his lips, getting more and more aggressive as it went on. Edward kept nipping at my lips, and I let him take over, helping me up on the lab table, the papers being dumped on the floor, but neither of us caring.

My fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him, my legs wrapping around his waist as we continued the assault on each other's mouths. The kisses were becoming violent, desperate, needy, and I couldn't bear to think of it ending. More, more, more, that's all I wanted. Please God, never let this man stop kissing me…

But soon oxygen became necessary, and I threw back my head as his lips moved down my neck, marking me. "Yes," I gasped, realizing I sounded like a porn star, but I didn't really care at this point. My body started to grind against him now, scooting closer to the edge of the table so I could move against him. "Edwarrrrrd," I moaned.

He pulled back, just enough to look me in the eye. His eyes were dark jade and his lips were swollen from our fervent kisses. "I was fucking right," he grinning, and for once I didn't want to punch him for being right. Instead, I grabbed his face and pulled him to me roughly, taking my turn of controlling the kiss. His hands slid down my back, gripping my ass, pulling me flush against him again.

It was endless, and I was wet as hell. Seriously. Slip 'n' slide going on down there. And when Edward shifted his hips against me and I felt his cock hard against my thigh, I about came. "Oh God," I whimpered. "Please…"

And Edward eased the kiss, and his lips became less urgent against mine until he was pulling away from me. I groaned in protest. "Wait…"

"Bella please," he said, leaning his forehead against mine. "We have to stop now."

"But why?" I sighed. I ran my fingers through his sex hair, and he groaned quietly.

"Because you deserve better," he said, licking his lips, eyes still shut. "I can't do it here…"

"Do you have any idea how many times I've imagined it here?" I smirked.

"Please say with me or I'll have to kill someone," he growled, and I shivered. Evolutionarily I supposed it made sense that he would want to fight for me…

Fuck Bella, not now!

"With you," I promised, and oh Lord was it true… "I could show you if you wanted…"

"How do you do that?" he smirked. "Hot and cold, Bella, you drive me insane."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "You confuse the hell out of me too."

"We'll have to work on that… the tension without the fighting," he said grinning. "Cuz I don't think I'm quite ready to stop."

"Me either," I agreed quietly. "Really, really not."

"Will you let me walk you home now?" he asked, pulling away fully now and helping me off of the table.

"Only if you stay," I said, cold now because he wasn't touching me. I had to fix that. Needed him. As soon as fucking possible."

"Of course," he said, and took my hand as we walked out of the lab, entwining our fingers together. "I'll stay until you tell me to go."

"Doubtful," I smirked.

A/N II: Leave me love! Please and thank you. :-D