101 Things I would do if I owned Twilight.

Okay, this is written for every depressed-sounding disclaimer I have ever read. Basically, it's me writing stuff into the story/ taking stuff out/ kicking Catherine Hardwicke's arse. Are actual stories, not just a list.

If I owned Twilight why would I be writing a story about what I would do if I did own Twilight? So no, I don't own Twilight yet. However, after Stephanie Meyer reads this, I fully expect her to hand it over.

1)I would have Edward Cullen dipped in chocolate somewhere in the story. This is for you, Sally. Some people called you sick, but I see the potential. I also wonder where we went wrong with you...

The restaurant was seriously posh. I could tell that from the instant I stepped out of the car, to see a concierge waiting to take the keys of the Vanquish off of Edward. Now I knew why he'd chosen to take the 'special occasion' car. And as outlandish and over-the-top as the full-length dress Alice had put me in felt when I was stood in front of her mirror, it fitted in here.

Edward, seeing my glance downwards, intercepted my hand on its way to pull the skirt straight again. He put his arm round my shoulders and pulled me closer.

'You look beautiful.' He whispered in my ear, kissing the top of my head gently. 'Have I ever told you how wonderful that colour looks on you?' His hand ran up and down my shoulder blade, making me shiver. Edward chuckled quietly.

'Lets get you inside,' he said, dragging me forwards, unobtrusively lifting me off my bum leg.

I scowled as we stepped through a door held aside by two uniformed door men.

'Edward, what is this place?' I asked.

'A restaurant, Bella.' He said quietly, although a corner of his mouth twitched.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him. 'I know that, I was asking what exa-'

'Good evening, sir. May I help you?' The maitre d', who had miraculously appeared from thin air at Edward's elbow, was saying. He was wearing a black tux and a red bow tie and cummerbund and was smiling obsequiously (get me!) at us. I guessed that meant he had seen the car.

'We have a table booked in the name of Cullen.' Edward said, still looking at me, his face taking on a worried look. Guess that meant he'd noticed the barely suppressed disapproval on my face then. Good. So long as he was prepared.

'Bella, don't be difficult.' He whispered in my ear as he half-carried me across the restaurant behind the maitre d', who was going on about how many stars the chef had. I frowned. Difficult? He was the one who was being unreasonable.

The maitre d' stopped, so suddenly that if I'd been walking entirely by myself I would have walked straight in the back of him, but Edwards arm held me back.

'Here we are, sir. Best table in the house.' He said with a servile smile. Edward pulled out my chair for me and I sat down, carefully arranging my blue silk skirt so it didn't crease. Edward sat down opposite me and the maitre d' handed us menus, before bowing again and leaving, but not before wishing us a good evening and hoping we would try the sea food soup.

'Bella,' Edward began as soon as I opened my mouth. 'Please. This is a good restaurant, the food is excellent-' he smirked 'Well, not that I would know, but so I've heard. Please. Just relax.'

I ground my teeth together, but I didn't say anything. He could hear that though, and he smirked again.

'What do you want?' he asked, opening the menu. I looked down at the list of dishes, but it was all in French and I couldn't understand a word.

'Ummm...' I said, scanning the menu desperately.

'How about the octopus?' he asked. 'I've heard it tastes just like chicken.' He raised one eyebrow at me, smiling my favourite smile.

I looked down at the menu again, before I started hyperventilating. I scanned down the list again, but this time I noticed the price at the end of the fist dish.

'Fifty dollars?' I gasped. Edward put his menu down, sighing. 'Edward-'

'Bella.' He looked at me, an edge of frustration in his voice. 'Be reasonable. It's not that much.' I rolled my eyes.

'Edward.' I said. 'For the last time, you don't need to take me to fancy restaurants, to buy me cars, to spend loads of money on me. I really don't want you to.' I sighed. 'This really isn't my type of place.' I said, looking around at the gilded chandeliers.

'Do you want to go?' he asked, watching me carefully. He looked really disappointed, and that made me feel guilty. Not guilty enough to stay, though. I nodded, biting my lip. Please could he just give in?

'Okay.' He sighed. 'We'll go.'

I stood up, trying to conceal the broad smile on my face by hiding behind my hair. That may not have been a good idea, though, because it meant that I tripped over the table cloth. I fell forwards, unfortunately into a waitress who was walking by at that time, carrying a tray.

A tray laden with some sort of chocolate desert, which I watched topple over the side in slow motion, falling towards me and my dress.

Except Edward was there, reaching down to catch me before I hit the ground. Which meant that all the chocolate sauce went all over him, splashing over his back and in his bronze hair. I had no doubt that he could have avoided it, if it hadn't been for his desire to catch me. And the fact he probably didn't care about his thousand-dollar tuxedo. But I still appreciated it- I did actually like this dress, a little bit.

I also appreciated the way his face looked as he looked down at me, with chocolate sauce dripping out of his hair, and my favourite crooked grin spread over his face, while the room rang with his bell-like laughter.

So there you go! Edward Cullen covered in chocolate! And here is where I give credit to Sally, because apparently it was all her idea.