BACKDROP: This anecdote starts on the same night as the attempted seduction scene late in Eclipse. Like many other Cougars for Cullen, I have found myself straying from team loyalty to drool over Carlisle as well as I know many of you other ladies (and boys too) have too. Dude, he's just smoking hot. I mean, come on. He transposed to the silver screen quite well: that part where he's fixing Bella's arm in New Moon? I TOTALLY saw something going on there and if I hadn't read the books I would've thought, Team Jacob and Team Edward be damned; she's playing for Team Carlisle. I didn't pick up on it in the book, but on screen the sexual tension between the two of them was so palpable. (And I know I'm not the only one who noticed!)

Based on the title, this is not a crossover of the film of the same name, nor a story dealing withguerrilla warfare and/or Communism. The title has multiple implications which you'll see for yourself upon reading.

RATED M, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED! Mature readers only because there are lemons and F-bombs aplenty. The first chapter, not so much, but from about Chapter 2 onward…the only thing containing more naughty passages than this isSenator Packwood's diary. Some may be freaked out by the graphicness of Chapter 5. If you find material with these descriptions offensive, just don't read. You're free to find something else more suited to your tastes if a very tart citrus is not your cup of tea.

This is told from Bella's POV and I made some events and circumstances up to have the happenings make sense, with her conflicting thoughts abound. Some of my own experiences and views come up between the lines, along with my eclectic and epileptic taste in music. Being a musician myself I think songs really help tell stories and create atmosphere…and Type O Negative is the band of choice in this case.Italics denote Bella's thoughts, internal musings, and her conscience yelling at her. Bold italics denote song lyrics that help tell the story/add to the feel of it. And some of the real storyline references are a tad out of sequence, but I know you're only reading this for the naughty bits so you probably don't care about the plot as much. ;) Seriously though, there IS an actual storyhere, not the fangirl equivalent of Penthouse Forum.

This is my first attempt at fanfic. Praise and constructive criticism welcomed, stupid and immature comments are not.

Twilight(R) and all their characters property of Stephenie Meyer.

"Fever" property of Otis Blackwell, Little Willie John, and Peggy Lee

"Temptation" property of Broadzilla (it sucks that this album is so hard to find now!)

"Christian Woman" property of Type O Negative* (the REAL album version, not the sellout ass-kissing radio-friendly one)

*For ultimate enjoyment, I'd highly recommend listening to the first four minutes of this song in Chapter 4. You'll know when the cue to play it is. Repeat it if you have to ;)

Now without further ado…here is Red Dawn.

Chapter 1: Absolution

I fiddled with the dials on my truck's radio, trying to get a station to tune in clearly. This feat was almost impossible as my antenna was shoddy to begin with, and the raging storm outside only made it worse. After giving the dashboard a good smack, I finally got the oldies station to come in. Not exactly my top choice, but it would have to do since I still procrastinated on having Emmett install a new stereo for me.

Then I was just convinced the world was conspiring against me when the next song that came on started with a sensual bass line that I didn't recognize at first until the words began.

"Never know how much I love you…never know how much I care…when you put your arms around me, I get a fever that's so hard to bear, you give me fever…"

Heat flushed to my face, as I thought about what I just drove away from. Edward has long since brought me to fever pitch which turned into la douleur exquise, always telling me how he had to keep such powerful restraint or else the consequences would be dire. Even though I could spend hours on end kissing him, it got frustrating that he had to keep violently pulling away…and I badly wanted more than just kissing. But I was just getting beyond frustrated at this point, as the torture has gone from exquisite to just downright excruciating and unbearable.

Staring ahead on the dark winding road, my windshield wipers going at full blast, I prayed they wouldn't break down on me in the sudden onslaught of rain. I gritted my teeth and dug my nails into the steering wheel because couldn't stop thinking about how close I'd come to Edward finally fulfilling my lingering desires…how I wanted him to change me in more ways than one.

"Sun lights up the daytime, moon lights up the night. But I light up when you call my name, 'cos you know I'm gonna treat you right. You give me fever…"

When the boys in class would take their Neanderthal locker room talk in with them, I used to just shake my head at it, and got sick of hearing them whine about how the girls they were pursuing just didn't put out. I heard Ben's hushed whispers in Calculus about how it took him five months of dating Angela before they had sex, so she could make sure he was serious first. I didn't see what was wrong with that, and at the time was relieved Ben pretty much admonished the rest of them. Mike apparently still hadn't nailed Jessica and he was pretty sore about it. And in spite of how much I couldn't stand her, it deeply annoyed me when Tyler rambled on about Lauren, how he had to buy expensive presents and ply her with wine coolers he filched from his mom for her to "let" him fuck her.

God, why do those guys always say "she let" as if we're still in the Victorian Era and people believe women don't have sexual desires themselves? It's always "she let", never…she wanted? She asked? We wanted? Jesus, one minute they bitch that we're not sexual enough, then we voice what we want and it scares them! It's always "she let" him do something to her as if the act is not mutual.

Which only makes me wonder if that's what this impasse with Edward is: does he just not want to have sex? Is it a one-sided deal like what the boys on the football team talk about?

He's my raison d'être…so could I be happy in a sexless relationship, never experiencing what I desperately wanted to?

Or a sexless marriage considering he wants to seal the deal with a ring?

I used to think those boys kvetching was shameful, just macho BS, until now. Now I could relate, and to no end. Not losing the irony on the phrase "Victorian Era", now that my Victorian age of living in fear had finally come to an end, I'd think that Edward would start taking my needs a little more seriously since only the not-so-imminent threat of the Volturi lingered now that Victoria was done for. He refused to take my virginity, and my mortality, unless we were married.

"You give me fever…when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight. Fever! In the morning, and fever all through the night."

Yes, he sure does give me fever all hours of the day. I couldn't argue with Peggy Lee.

Deep down, I was honored by his restraint and intent. He just wanted to be chivalrous and romantic instead of being all about meaningless sex. Edward is from a totally different time, before the ad-driven oversexualized society we live in today took over, that gives us more conflicting messages than ever…girls are still told they're not sexual beings, and female sexuality is still feared and we're brainwashed to believe it should be inherently repressed, yet at the same time we have to be sex kittens whose prime goal in life is to get male attention. Marriage is pushed on us more than ever, yet looking at my own parents and those of many of my peers, I know far more divorced people and than happily married couples.

I should be beyond glad that Edward doesn't take stock in any of these schools of thought, or the macho mindsets of his peers. Although thinking of my classmates and regardless of the generational gap, I would think a boy who'd been seventeen for almost a century would have totally railed his way through several women by now, even if he didn't love them or care about them the way he did me. He certainly didn't need help in the looks or the charm department to do so. I am still left speechless that he chose me when he could've had his pick of female vampires as hauntingly beautiful and graceful as Rosalie or Alice, or the billions of mere mortal women far prettier than me out there. Far more speechless that he remained a virgin all this time, to boot.

He's every mother's and marriage-hopeful young girl's dream come true. But I was beyond reasoning to appreciate this true rarity much anymore.

Worse yet, the shame of Edward telling me to stop trying to take my clothes off was scalding me far more than the overactive heater in my truck. The heat was still pooling between my legs from my would-be encounter with him twenty minutes ago. I fought back tears as my mind vividly replayed him forcefully slapping my hand away as I tried to unbutton his shirt. Further depressing me was the thought that my nineteenth birthday was looming, and he would not honor my request to have him change me before I got too old, as he remained forever seventeen.

He asked me to spend the night to avoid braving the storm. Not wanting further torture, I declined. He then offered to drive me back to Charlie's, and that he or Alice would drop my truck off tomorrow. I was totally seething and didn't want his intoxicating scent and god-like body near me to further drive me wild, I figured the drive back in the rain would be the cold shower I desperately needed. Tease, I fumed to myself. Hold me hostage, my ass. Here I was getting all excited for the things I thought he was going do to me all alone, namely involving that huge bed that's so not being utilized. I was getting all these ideas involving handcuffs, electrical tape, and maple syrup amongst other things…

The image of Edward pulling the adornment off the cast-iron bed frame and crushing it to dust was burned into my mind and also replaying over and over, illustrating his point that he could quickly and easily end my life if he did make love to me like I wanted him to. Damn it, as amazing as his kisses and touches were, I wanted more. I'm a sexually awakened young woman and I wished he would stop making this so hard for me.

Jacob had caught wind of this a while ago. Subsequently, he was propositioning me constantly: dying to be the first, dying to capitalize on this situation and my personal hell.

Even though my heart doubtlessly belonged to Edward, right now I was debating going to La Push and taking Jacob's offer because my body was negating my conscience, as if kicking out a houseguest who had worn out his welcome. And I can't bear it anymore.

And to think, pushing me farther and just tempting me so by buying that huge bed! What a waste…I was hoping to put it to some serious use and he had the nerve to tell me to stop taking my clothes off. That tease, how dare he not finish what he started. I think I'll be joining the football team kaffeeklatsch! I just hope Mike doesn't get any ideas.

All those thoughts ran rampant in my head and I wasn't able to see and think straight. I neared the fork in the road where I could decide to impulsively drive to La Push, or head home. The engine was making those clanky noises again as I had to decide to make the turn or not. Seeing as how my truck had less life remaining in it than Al Bundy's Dodge, I figured I shouldn't test the truck's limits and head to La Push, where I would be safe from the Volturi, Edward's cold reactions to my attempts at seduction, and my own klutziness.

"Romeo loved Juliet, Juliet she felt the same. When he put his arms around her he said, Julie, Baby, you're my flame, thou giveth fever…"

The irony of that verse was not lost on me.

And hey, I'm driving a truck on the brink of death that may as well be a Dodge, I'm not getting any sex, and I've got the oldies station cranked up: Oh shit, I am Al Bundy.

As the rain continued to pour down and the road got darker, I made the turn but not without some reproach. I mean, did I really want to just use Jacob for sex? It already hurt him as it was to see how much I loved Edward and still held out for him in spite of his long absence, the woeful peal outside the tent when he realized that had imprinted on my brain, and would haunt me forever. Jacob would be ecstatic at the purpose of my visit, but wounded beyond belief upon the later realization that he was a vessel for my displaced lust and want.

I glanced at the silver charm bracelet that adorned my wrist, the tiny russet wolf that was carved with such care, symbolic of the truce between vampires and werewolves, and the crystal heart that was one of the few mementos of Edward's past. A tear-like sparkle in the heart reflected the millions upon millions of rain drops on the darkened road to La Push. No way, I can't do this to either of them. I'm not one of these frustrated boys on the football team who would do something like this without thinking of the ramifications.

With that, I abruptly swerved the truck to turn around and head back to the main road. I should go home and go to sleep. Some alone time would probably be good for me.

As if on cue, a thunderclap that shook the cab split across the sky, almost blinding me. I didn't see the large tree that had fallen into the fork in the road, resultant of the lightning strike. I gasped at the pair of eyes that suddenly stared at me from the middle of road and I couldn't tell through the blackness and driving rain if it was animal, vampire, or werewolf. Not wanting to hit it, I slammed the brakes.

The last thing I recalled was the screeching of the brakes as the shocks gave out, then feeling no pain before all went black.

"Fever! Til you sizzle…what a lovely way to burn…what a lovely way to burn…"