Lemonade and Cookies

A/N: Because I couldn't resist poking a little fun ;)

Edward wrapped his arms around Bella, inhaling the sweet scent of her blood. The heavenly scent made his throat tighten, his mouth flood with venomous saliva, but he ignored the absolute need of his body—he loved Bella too much to damn her soul for eternity.

That was what he told her, anyway. Honestly, if Edward really sat down and thought about it(with a pained, brooding look on his face, because he knew how much that look suited him) he didn't want Bella to be immortal because her clinginess would eventually get old. He could withstand another fifty years, but not the next hundred.

"Bella," he breathed, inhaling her scent deeply.

She blushed and looked down, her eyelashes casting the prettiest shadows on her cheeks that Edward had ever seen—if he lived another hundred years, he thought he'd never see a prettier sight. Well, no, that was a lie—it would be the prettiest mortal sight he'd ever see. The way the sunlight glittered off his pale pecs was much prettier than Bella's eyelashes could ever be, and Edward knew it.

"Edward—will you come over later?" she asked, her fingers curling around his shirt. "Please?"

He smiled at her almost condescendingly—what a silly human. Even if she didn't want him there, he would be there. "Of course," he said magnanimously—he was doing the silly human a favor, after all. Yes, she was la tua cantante, but he was a fucking vampire. The cool points were definitely skewed in his favor.

"I'll be there," he breathed, putting himself close to her to watch her swoon.

Two hours later, Edward arrived at Bella's house. Instead of picking up zero thoughts within the house, he picked up something that was almost static-y. Edward shrugged it off—maybe it was a distance thing. Maybe he was just hearing someone from far, far away. It had happened before.

The front door opened just as he reached it. Bella smiled at him prettily. "I need to go get something from upstairs," she breathed after he kissed her senseless. "There's lemonade and cookies in the kitchen, if you… Oh, right."

He raised an eyebrow. Bella knew he couldn't eat. He smiled at her anyway, thinking, 'What a stupid human,' and went into the kitchen to wait for her anyway.

"Hello," someone said.

Edward jumped as a tall, gray-haired man in a suit coat and slacks walked in with foil wrapped around his head and a thin sheaf of papers in his hand. "Who are you?" he asked.

The man gestured to the kitchen table with his papers. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Confused, Edward sat down at the table. The man stood across from him, straightening the papers in his hand. "What's going on?" the man asked.

"I'm here to see Bella, sir," Edward answered respectfully. Bella had never mentioned having uncles, but it was possible she had been babbling about one inanely and he had ignored her to focus his attention on how his skin sparkled in the sunlight. Damn, but he was hot.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked, one hand on his hip.

Edward stared at the man. Was he deaf? No, Edward decided. The man was just stupid. The foil on his head made it hard for Edward to pick up what he was thinking—he would catch a stray word here and there amidst the static. How odd—was it really the foil? Or was it because this man was related to Bella?

"I'm here to visit Bella, sir," he answered again, more slowly this time.

The man nodded. "Right. And how old is Bella?"

"Seventeen," Edward answered. "Shouldn't you know that? You're her uncle, aren't you?"

"I'm Chris Hansen," the man answered. Several men with cameras rushed out, shoving the huge black lenses in his face. "I'm with Dateline NBC: To Catch a Predator. You were well aware that Bella was underage, were you not?"

"I—"

"How old are you, Edward?" Chris Hansen asked.

"Seventeen."

"How long have you been seventeen?"

Edward thought about running, but these strange people whose minds he could not read would probably be able to catch him—who knew what other powers they had? "I—ten months, sir. I'll be eighteen in two months."

"Really," Chris Hansen said, thumbing through the papers in his hand. "Right here, I have a transcript of your conversations with Bella, and here you say you are over a hundred years old. Tell me, what's a hundred year old man doing with a seventeen year old girl?"

"I wasn't—we weren't going to… you know," Edward said, freaking out. They knew he was a vampire! He cupped a hand to his ear. "What's that?" he said loudly. "You want me to come home, Mom? Okay." Edward stood up. "I have to go."

He pushed past the cameramen, who followed him to Bella's front door.

"Get on the ground!"

"Hands above your head!"

"Don't move!"

SWAT members rushed out of the forest, guns trained on him. Edward paused, just about to break into a run, when a flicker of movement behind him caught his attention.

Chris Hansen was staring at him, arms folded over his chest.

Edward sighed, and did as he was told.

Bella appeared behind Chris Hansen, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "You really freaked me out! Who in their right mind watches someone sleep, Edward?"

"I just wanted to protect you!" he cried, allowing the men to slap handcuffs on him. "I love you, Bella!"

"You won't be scaring any young girls for a looong time, Edward," Chris Hansen said smugly, terrifying Edward into silence. "Jail cells don't have young girls around. Or windows, for that matter."

"NOOOOOOO!" Edward wailed as he was manhandled into a waiting cruiser. No Bella, no windows, no watching himself sparkle like a thousand precious diamonds???

Mortals were definitely more trouble than they were worth.