Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

~0~

~~Edward~~

Okay, I know it is right. It's perfect. I can start on the lyrics now.

I never seemed to have problems with the music; it's always the lyrics that give me a headache. I just need a smoke. I stood up; made sure they were in my pocket and strode out to the little balcony. The cigar dude still puffed away. I lit the cigarette and he nodded politely, but turned back to the view. Not talkative. This was fine by me.

I dragged on the filter and sighed to myself. Who was I kidding? There wasn't a single idea in my head on what to write. I knew they wouldn't let me get away with just an instrumental on the soundtrack. They specifically told me that people would want to hear my voice singing my song, and even though I really wanted to keep my music life separate from my acting, I would be an absolute tool to pass up this opportunity.

This acting career was everything I thought I wanted. I had made a ton of money. I had the pick of scripts now that I had proven what I could do. But none of it was fulfilling. I was lying to myself. I was not happy. I was living from day to day on an insane schedule. I hadn't had more than a two days off in over five months. I was mentally exhausted. I needed to write this music as a distraction, as something to look forward to, something that I enjoyed doing, something to keep me sane.

I was going to be prisoner in this hotel for sixteen long weeks, and the thought made me want to gag.

I stubbed the cigarette out and placed the butt in the sand filled box. Right, I had a purpose tonight; I would play the song one last time and then get upstairs and start writing some things down.

When I walked back inside, bar guy was talking to the business woman; he had his back to me and completely blocked her from my view.

I hope he told her about the song so she won't come and hit on me or ask me for an autograph.

I sat down and started playing again, and when I finished I looked up and found myself staring at the business woman. She was standing to my left, with a piece of paper in her hand and her bag over her shoulder.

Great, she is going to ask me for my autograph.

Then the feeling I'd had last night came back, a buzzing of static in the air, a tingling feeling ran down my spine. It wasn't entirely unpleasant.

I smiled. I didn't need to be a prick about it, just sign her piece of paper and then she'd leave. But she had this bizarre expression on her face. She looked shocked. Her beautiful wide brown eyes stirred something inside of me. She looked panicky as recognition covered her face, quickly turning to mortification.

"Um, sorry, I, um…" she stuttered and then tried to compose herself.

I wasn't surprised and I kind of smirked. I just seemed to have that effect on women. They would either completely lose all ability to hold a conversation, or bounce up and down while trying to grab and kiss me, or openly flirt while undressing me with their eyes. Business woman was different. It seemed as though I was the last person she expected to see. If she didn't want my autograph, then what did she want from me?

I held out my right hand for her to shake, because I thought it was better than her jumping on me if that was what she intended to do. I assumed if she was a guest of the hotel, she wouldn't embarrass herself, but you could never tell. It was usually the normal looking ones that did the opposite of what you thought they would.

I didn't bother saying my name. I knew she knew exactly who I was. She hastily swapped the piece of paper to her left hand and then shook my hand tentatively. Her hand was warm and soft and smelled like roses. The static increased, and her touch sent a wave of warmth up my arm and into the pit of my stomach.

She pulled her hand away quickly. "Hi, I'm Bella," she smiled and took a deep breath.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, you probably came here to get away from people bothering you. But I just, well when you played your song last night, I sort of went into some freaky trance or something and I started writing down words. I'm a writer, so that type of thing doesn't usually surprise me, but when I snapped out of it and read the words, well they really seemed to be lyrics, and umm, I wasn't sure if your song even had them, and so I just thought I would give them to you." She held the piece of paper out to me and took another deep breath.

She was Australian; her accent was dead sexy, raw, and unpretentious. It seems as though I was wrong about her entirely, she wasn't a business woman at all—she was a writer.

I took the piece of paper. My eyes dropped down to read.

Episode

Lyrics by Bella Swan

Music by ?

So, she hadn't known who I was when she wrote this?

"So, um, anyway, I thought I would just give them to you, in case you wanted to read them, and you know if you have lyrics already, then just throw them away, really. I'm so sorry to have bothered you." Her face was no longer pale; it was a shockingly delicious crimson. She turned abruptly and with a slight stumble, hurried out the door.

I looked down again at the paper and started reading the words to 'Episode'. I was completely freaked out. It was exactly what I wanted. It was a love song, but with a little danger, and a little menace.

I jumped up and ran out the door to look for her. Too late, of course she was long gone.

She was obviously a guest, and I knew her name. I could find her tomorrow. I could leave her a note to meet me. I walked slowly back to the piano whilst reading the rest of the words.

I placed the lyrics on the stand and started to play, singing the words in my head. God, they just fit beautifully. I played it again, of course the only change I would make to it would be to change the he's to she's.

It was my song. My song was complete, and this girl Bella had wrote these in one night, after she'd heard the music what, two or three times?

So, she wasn't just a beautiful Australian, she was a talented and very creative writer and lyricist. She wasn't a stressed out workaholic business woman. How wrong first impressions can be.

I was suddenly extremely intrigued and excited about seeing her again.

~0~

~~Bella~~

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I stabbed the down button for the lift about ten times, and when it finally dinged and the doors opened, I practically fell into it.

Oh. My. Fucking. God! That was…he was…he is so gorgeous. Oh God! I just completely babbled to him like a moron, an idiot. I couldn't even speak straight and my accent sounded soooo damn irritating and I stuttered and he just looked at me smirking, and looking so God Damn Sexy!

I got out at my floor and barreled into my room, threw myself onto the bed and screamed with embarrassment into the pillow. I could never face him again. He must think I'm a complete freak.

Oh fuck, this is a nightmare!

I had just stuttered in the face of one of the hottest, most gorgeous and talented young actors that I could have only ever dreamed of or even hoped to meet, and gave him my psychotic words strung loosely together in the form of 'lyrics'. I had made a complete and utter dick of myself.

I was going to have to pack and move to a different hotel.

Why in the hell did I ever choose Vancouver as the foreign Commonwealth city to use my prize money in? I could have gone to the UK. I could have gone to New Zealand, or Botswana, or Vanuatu, in fact I could have gone to any one of the fifty-three Commonwealth Countries as part of my prize.

I had really, really stuffed this up, big time.

~0~

~~Edward~~

When I got back to my room, I couldn't even contemplate sleeping, even though I knew I had to be up and in the car by 5am. I kept re-reading the song lyrics. I kept hearing her sexy Australian accent and kept remembering the scent of tea rose as she shook my hand. She was a writer. Bella Swan. She was Australian. God, Alice was going to have an epic fit.

I remembered how mortified she had looked when she recognized me. Did she know I was staying in the hotel? How could she not know? I just could not believe that she would try and fool me. The lyrics were no joke; they were pure perfection, just like her hands, her eyes.

SHIT.

I flipped open my Apple Powerbook, opened Safari and googled Bella Swan. Numerous Facebook pages, Myspace, then an entry from BS&P Australia. I clicked on it:

Bookseller & Publisher: Twenty-three year old Bella Swan from Sydney has won the prestigious Commonwealth Countries young writers award for her entry 'Kick it to me!' Included in this year's prize is $AUD50k to use to spend up to six months in any Commonwealth Country to write. Upon completion of her first novel, Ms Swan will also be granted an exclusive publishing deal with Volturi Press, the largest indie book publisher in Australia. The publishing deal alone is said to be worth in excess of $AUD50k, excluding future royalties.

"I'm so overwhelmed, I didn't even think that I would have the chance to make the shortlist, let alone win it!" Ms Swan was quoted at the awards dinner, held last night at Rockpool's famous Bar & Grill in Hunter Street, Sydney.

This post was dated just a little over four months ago.

So, she was here after winning a writer's prize. Bella Swan was probably completely freaking out right now and that really was a blush of pure embarrassment. She had absolutely no idea that it was me sitting at the piano and she was writing lyrics to my song. I walked over to the desk and grabbed the hotel stationery. I needed to find Bella and tell her we had to meet to speak about these lyrics.

Hello Bella,

Thank you for the lyrics. They are perfect! I was having so much trouble trying to even start on them. Will you meet me tonight in the bar on Level 25? I have a business proposition for you. I could probably meet you at 10.30pm. I hope that isn't too late. If it is, please leave a note with the concierge and he'll make sure I get it.

Edward Cullen

I called the concierge desk.

"Hello Mr Paul, how may I help you this evening?"

"Hi, I was in the bar on Level 25 earlier and I met Bella Swan. I'd like to get a note and a bottle of wine to her. I know you can't tell me her room number, so if I bring the note down to you, would you be able to ensure she gets it in the morning?"

"Certainly Sir. Was there a particular wine you would like her to receive?"

"Would you be able to call the bar? She was drinking something this evening; a bottle of that would be fine." I ran my fingers through my hair and then picked up the note and tapped it frantically on the on the desk.

"Consider it done Sir."

"OK, I'll be right down." I folded the note and put it in an envelope. I was out the door and down to the lobby in a flash. It was 11.30pm. The lobby was relatively busy for a Thursday and it was Mike at the desk.

"Thanks." I handed him the sealed envelope and a crisp $100 bill. That should cover the wine and the delivery, and hopefully his silence. The last thing I needed was for some sleazy tabloid hack to get the story out of him. I could see the headlines now.

I walked briskly back to the elevator and once in my room I opened up my Mac and started transcribing Bella's lyrics into my sheet music for the song. I had already fixed the bridge and, when I had finished I added her name with mine at the top. It looked right. It worked.

I then hauled my microphone from my guitar case in the wardrobe, plugged into the Mac, opened up Pro Tools and started singing. After a few takes I had digitally imported my voice into my computer and was playing it back against the backing guitar melody that I had previously recorded.

I wouldn't play her the song unless she needs convincing. I wanted her to allow me to show the sheet music to the producer and the director. If they liked it, I would get to record it in a studio. I really should record it with the piano as the backing. I could go back up to the bar and take my laptop with me. It was only Midnight. God, I had to be up in five hours. I reluctantly saved it and shut the computer down. I had to get some sleep, or no amount of make-up was going to hide how ragged I felt.

~0~

~~Bella~~

I don't know what time it was when I eventually settled down enough to sleep. But I woke with a start, still in my clothes on top of the bed. I moaned into the pillow. My body was on fire and my heart rate was up.

I had just woken from the most wonderful sex dream ever!

I felt disoriented and anxious. I rolled onto my back and then sat bolt upright and looked at the clock. It was 6am. I was wide-awake.

Maybe I should get up, and start my day. I need to find another hotel.

Then I heard a squeaking sound outside of my door. I slid off the bed and walked over to take a squiz out of the peep-hole. Nothing. I opened the door slowly and looked down the hallway. Nope, empty and quiet. No maids, no room service breakfast trolleys. I stepped back inside and went to close the door then looked down and there was a parcel with an envelope attached labeled Ms Swan, Room 810.

I knelt down and picked it up. It was a Styrofoam wine box. The envelope was hotel stationary. My heart pounded and I felt red heat travelling from my chest right up to my forehead.

I walked slowly back to my bed, and placed the parcel down. I opened the heavy curtains; the sky had started to lighten.

Umm, who would be delivering me a bottle of something and a note?

My heart was still pounding and I was having a mild panic attack. What if it was from him? I needed to calm down before I opened it. My body was still highly strung from that amazing dream. So I turned around and headed straight to the bathroom.

I'm going to shower, wash my hair, and de-stress myself before I even think about opening that letter.

I was even more agitated when I had gotten in the shower, just knowing that the letter was on my bed. I tried to calm myself in the steamy bathroom, but all I could think about was the dream. Then I started thinking how he looked last night. Edward Cullen.

I shook hands with Edward Fuck-Hawt Cullen!

He looked so much better in real life. His skin was amazing; you could see the slightest shadow of facial hair. His lips were gorgeously inviting. He smelled intoxicating, the sexy masculine hint of cologne that had faded over the course of the day. I remembered how my whole body felt like it was vibrating from pleasure when I shook his hand. It was warm and soft, and my hand felt so small in his grasp. It was like an electrical current had travelled up my arm and through my body. It felt amazing. It felt too good; I remember how I'd yanked my hand away in shock at the intensity.

URGH.

I hadn't realized what I had started doing until my body did actually vibrate from the wholly unexpected climax I had achieved just using my hand—remembering my dream and my brief real-life encounter with Edward Cullen—under the steady and steamy jet in the shower.

When I had dried myself off and my heart rate had slowed I put my pajamas on. There was no way I was ready to leave my room. I sat in the middle of the bed and opened the wine box. It was a bottle of Bridgewater Mill, the same label I was drinking last night. I anxiously opened the envelope and pulled out a folded note. My stomach was growling, from hunger and nervousness. I took a deep breath and read:

Hello Bella,

Thank you for the lyrics. They are perfect. I was having so much trouble trying to even start on them. Will you meet me tonight in the bar on Level 25? I have a business proposition for you. I could probably meet you at 10:30pm. I hope that isn't too late. If it is, please leave a note with the concierge and he'll make sure I get it.

Edward Cullen

Even his handwriting was flawless.

Business proposition.

He just wanted to meet me to talk about business. The word sounded formal and bland, nothing to do with the thoroughly unmentionable things that we did to each other in my dream last night.

What did I expect? Did I want him to wine and dine me and tell me I was the best damn writer he had ever met? In my dreams…in my fantasies…yes. Like millions of other women on the planet. Ha. God, I was pathetic. He was an Adonis, he had a girlfriend, he needed lyrics and mine were 'perfect'—his words.

I will go to this 'business meeting' and see what he has to say. Last night I hadn't even given him the opportunity to open his luscious and gorgeous mouth. I will conduct myself professionally and I won't ramble on.

Determinedly, I grabbed my notebook and planned my day.

I wrote a list of what I needed to achieve before meeting with him. I phoned room service. I ordered toasted muesli with yoghurt and fruit and then I called the Day Spa. I had an appointment at 3pm. I would eat, go back to sleep for a few hours and then get pampered and try to relax before I met him. The last thing I needed was to go to this meeting all riled up and stressed out.

I could do this. I would listen to what he wanted to tell me. I'd let him run the meeting and I would do my best to hide the ever compounding and overwhelming desire to hear him play the piano again. I would not let my imagination run away with me. He was just an ordinary famous guy. No big deal. Right?

~0~

~~Edward~~

I was hanging around waiting for everything to be set up for me to run through my lines. I need to get out of here. We were running way over schedule because of the rain. I asked one of the crew the time.

Fuck, it's already 10:05pm. There's no way that I'm going to make it back to the hotel in time to meet Bella at 10:30pm.

I couldn't use my cell, it was in my trailer, and there was probably no reception here anyway. I didn't want her to assume I had stood her up. What was I thinking?

It's not a date. I just need to talk to her about the song.

But the thought of her nervous and waiting for me in the bar was almost too much to bear. It was 11pm before we finished up and I ran to my trailer. As soon as the make-up artist left after helping me remove the gunk and my contacts, I called the hotel and asked for Mike, the concierge.

"Hi Mike, it's err, Mr Paul."

"Yes Mr Paul, how can I help you?"

"I'm due to meet Bella Swan in the bar and I'm thirty minutes late. I was wondering if you could get a message to her for me. I'm stuck on set…I mean at work, and I won't be able to meet her until midnight."

"Certainly Mr Paul. I'll call up to the bar now and ensure Ms Swan receives the message and is looked after until you can join her."

"Thank you. If she can't make it, please call me back on my cell? I don't want her to have to wait for me if it's too late for her."

What would I do if she didn't want to wait? I couldn't go another night without seeing her. I had to. I would be a nervous wreck.

"I understand. What is your cell phone number Mr Paul?"

I gave him my number, just as the driver knocked on the trailer door to say the car would be ready in five minutes. Mike said he would call me either way within the next ten minutes. I undressed and got into my jeans and a fresh T-shirt. I would probably have time to go back to my room before I met her, unless she had decided not to wait. I wouldn't blame her if she left.

I grabbed my leather jacket and walked to the car. My bodyguard Emmett held the door open for me. Two of my co-stars were already waiting in the car. Both were looking tired and unreceptive to chatter. I leaned back in the leather and closed my eyes.

I thought of Bella. I'd keep our meeting professional. I'd try not to persuade her. This had to be her decision. Handing me her lyrics in a hotel bar was one thing, but having our names associated forever as copyright holders to a song was another matter entirely.

My iPhone vibrated in my pocket.

"Hello?"

"Mr Paul, it's Mike from the concierge desk. Ms Swan has been notified of the new time and she said she would be happy to wait for you."

"Thanks."

"You are very welcome." The phone disconnected.

I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

She's going to be there.

My phone vibrated again and I looked at the display. My favorite picture of my twin sister Alice popped up on the screen.

I really couldn't speak to her right now. I knew why she was calling and I knew I'd have to speak to her sooner or later, but I just couldn't face her questioning. I really didn't have anything to tell her yet. I let the phone vibrate. I could only imagine the expletives I'd hear when I eventually listened to her message.

I relaxed in the seat again. The drive usually took forty minutes. I must have dozed off, because the flashes from the paps' cameras startled me awake as the car rolled up to the hotel entrance. Emmett shielded us as we rushed out of the car and ran into the safety of the foyer. Mike nodded to me from the concierge desk as I rushed to the elevator.

I had ten minutes. I'll go to my room and have a smoke and get my shit together before I meet her. I felt like an absolute mess. She would see straight through me. No, I can do this. I can speak to her in a bar. I could hide my excitement about seeing her. I could be cool and detached. I would be cool and detached, even though the pit of my stomach felt tight with the sweet anticipation of seeing and actually speaking to her, to Bella.

~0~

~~Bella~~

I could do this. He was just an ordinary guy that happened to be gorgeous and chose to be an actor to make a living, just like I had chosen to be a writer.

He was an actor who physically and mentally becomes a character to portray their emotions and life experiences on film. I created characters to portray their emotions and life experiences in stories.

I knew that he could play the piano and the guitar and I recalled hearing him sing, maybe on TV? He had an exceptionally sexy soul voice. I was a pretty great cook and could converse confidently on Australian literature. What's the big deal? Argh!

We came from totally different cultural backgrounds and had completely different life experiences and had lived in different countries and had different accents, but essentially we were both people, and his star status should not intimidate me. He always seemed personable and humble in the interviews I'd seen. He didn't actively seek the spotlight like so many other douchebag actors. This was a business meeting and I would listen to what he had to say.

I had decided that I wasn't going to drink tonight. I would never turn up to a business meeting with alcohol in my system, so when James had asked what I wanted, I ordered mineral water.

I had tried to write when I had arrived here at 10pm, but that damn writers block was back and I couldn't concentrate, so I had spent the last hour writing lists. I write lists when I'm nervous. It calms me down.

I really shouldn't be that worked up, even though he was thirty minutes late. I knew that he probably got held up on set and it's not like he would carry a phone with him while filming. The note did say 'probably 10:30pm.' It's just that I got all panicky when I thought of him just walking in the door at any time, and taking me by surprise. In fact, whenever the door did open, I felt hot and breathless.

I took a sip of water and closed my eyes. I remembered the day spa. I'd had the works. My body had been scrubbed and polished to within an inch of my life. I glowed, healthy and natural, so I had only put on a little mascara and my favorite pale nude lipstick. I was wearing one of my favorite tops; red with the most gorgeous silk sleeves that sat on the crease above my elbows. It had a very flattering square neckline. I was also wearing my most comfortable black skinny jeans and my red Lacoste ballet flats. I had smothered myself in my favorite French perfume. Thirty minutes was an acceptable time to be late…that is if he was going to show at all.

"Excuse me Ms Swan," James smiled down at me. "Mr Paul called the hotel. He has been held up, but will endeavor to be here by midnight. If you are unable to wait, I can get a message to him."

"Mr Paul?" I questioned. I must have looked confused.

James smirked and leaned down to me in a hushed voice. "Mr Paul, the gentleman that plays the piano," he winked.

"Oh," I breathed. "Okay, that's fine. I'll wait."

Did Edward Cullen really go by a fake name? It seemed laughable; didn't everyone on the planet know who he was?

"Can I bring you something else from the bar?"

I looked at the clock on my laptop. He would be here in another fifty minutes or so. My nerves weren't going to take it.

"Yes please. I'll have a gin and tonic with lemon and lime. Thanks James." There goes my no alcohol vow.

James smiled again and walked away. I picked up my clutch purse, shuffled along the booth and headed for the bathroom. I must have had about a liter of mineral water. I stood at the mirror and looked at myself. Under the soft lighting I did look great. My hair was arranged in long silken curls, my skin was still glowing, lips needed touching up, so I pulled out my pale nude lippy and dotted it on. I smelt my wrists, yep, I was perfumed but not in an overpowering way. I checked my teeth, nope, no food bits. I sighed.

This is not a date; I look fine. I can do this, I have the confidence, he's just an ordinary guy.

I washed my hands and used that lovely rose scented moisturizer again before heading back to my table. My G&T was waiting for me. I slowly packed away my laptop and papers, there was no way I could do any writing now, and I placed my bag under the table. I leant back and closed my eyes, sipping the G&T and chanting internally—he's just an ordinary guy, he's just an ordinary guy, he is just an ordinary guy.

Then there was only one thing I could think about, and that was the song. The music took over and I hummed the words in my head. It was beautiful. It was a hit song. No, not a hit, it was a classic. One of those songs that would never age.

He's just an ordinary guy.

He's just an ordinary guy.

I don't know how long I sat there and meditated to calm my nerves. When I opened my eyes, the room seemed darker, and I glanced up to see that the usually bright halogen above the table had been dimmed to a soft glow. Of course it had been bright for me when I was working, but now that I had packed away my laptop, James must assume I'm meeting Edward here on a date!

I looked around to the bar to call to James, but he was across the other side of the piano, taking an order from two distinguished businessmen, their briefcases sitting on the floor, their ties loosened.

Then the bar door opened and Edward Cullen walked in. He looked straight at me, and the smile that lit up his face also lit up the entire room. I didn't need that super bright halogen after all. I couldn't help but automatically smile in response.

He's just an ordinary guy. He's just an ordinary FUCKING BEAUTIFUL guy!

~0~

~~Edward~~

Who was I kidding? As soon as I got in the elevator I swiped the card and pressed 25. I wasn't going to keep her waiting another minute. I didn't want to wait another minute. I was desperate and anxious to know if she would let me use the lyrics. Now that I had read them, there was no way I could write something else. I wanted to sing Bella Swan's exact words.

I stopped at the door to the bar and took a deep breath. I flicked the purple card over the reader and opened the door. I looked directly at her table. The spotlight had been dimmed, the table cleared apart from a short glass. She was wearing red, her hair in long silken curls, skin pale, free of make-up. When I smiled at her, she returned it. She looked beautiful.

God, no, I can't be attracted to her in that way, not if we're going to be working together.

"Hi, I'm so sorry I kept you waiting. I just couldn't get here any sooner." I sat down. She was sitting in the exact middle of the circular booth. If I reached out, I would be able to touch her arm.

"It's fine," she said.

She wasn't nervous or stuttering. It really must have been a complete and utter shock when she recognized me last night.

The bar guy appeared out of nowhere. "Would you like your usual, Mr Paul?"

I knew Bella drank either wine or champagne, so I should let her choose.

"Actually," I shifted my body slightly closer to her. "Bella, do you want to choose? I feel like trying something different tonight."

She looked a little perplexed, but then she smiled.

"Sure. James, maybe the Evans & Tate Sauvignon Blanc, 1999, if you have it?"

She sounded like she knew exactly what she wanted. Her accent was still recognizably Australian, but she seemed to be trying to play it down, mute it somewhat. She still sounded dead sexy, without effort.

"Certainly Ms Swan."

She looked at me with a slight smile on her lips. I couldn't believe that this beautiful twenty-three year old Australian was sitting within touching distance from me, and even though she looked calm and in control, I sensed she was holding something back. If there was any woman in the world right now that I wanted to want me, it was Bella Swan.

I won't get involved intimately with someone I'll be working with.

"I'm so glad you could meet me. I wished you hadn't run off last night. I didn't expect you to hand me lyrics and well, when I read them, I was speechless. I…, you are extremely talented with words. They fit the music so well. Perfectly." They are fucking perfect is what I really wanted to say to her.

"Thank you."

OK, she was holding back. I needed her to relax and feel comfortable enough not to just give me one-word responses. Either way I had to know. I'll be completely honest with her.

"I'd like to discuss using your lyrics. I know I wouldn't be able to match what you achieved after only hearing the song maybe three times? There is a real chance the song could be included on the soundtrack of the movie I'm currently filming." I stared into Bella's exceptionally dark brown eyes.

"You would get a share of the royalties of course. And co-writer credit with me."

Her eyes didn't look away from mine, and yet she wasn't communicating anything with them. They were not roaming my body in a blatant eye-fuck. She just stared back at me. I had absolutely no clue what she was thinking, whether she was going to say yes or no. She just smiled.

The bar guy was back with the bottle of wine. He presented it to her, uncorked the bottle and poured a small amount into her glass.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. She held the glass as if it was a precious jewel. Then she inhaled the bouquet with her eyes closed. The smile on her lips was mystifying, like she was silently laughing at her own private joke. As I looked at her lips, she took a small sip, leaving the faintest of beige lipstick behind on the rim of the glass. It was so sensual.

Shit, she's gorgeous.

I briefly imagined what I wanted to do with her if there were no other people in the bar.

"Exquisite." She sighed, and the word summed up exactly how I would have described the act that my oversexed mind was conjuring. A certain appendage stiffened.

I won't get involved intimately with someone I'll be working with.

Oh Fuck. But if she said no to me using the lyrics, we wouldn't be working together. I could seduce her and get her up to my room and we could…Stop it!

What did I want more, her lyrics or her? I couldn't have both.

The sound of the bar guy slamming the bottle in the ice bucket snapped me out of my fantasy.

I was still watching her. She shifted her body towards me and that slight movement sent a wave of floral aroma my way. Was it her or the wine that smelled so damn delicious? She held up her glass towards me, leaning slightly forward. I tore my eyes away from hers for a split second to pick up my glass.

"Here's to Episode, the song that defines the place that we occupy right now. Everything will change around us, we will change, but the words and the music will never alter." Her words pounded in my head as she gently tapped her glass against mine.

I was unfathomably disappointed and elated at the same time.

~0~

A/N: Thank you for reading.