The Twilight Twenty-Five
Prompt: Rapacious
Pen name: Amethyst Jackson
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Rating: M

Disclaimer: Neither Twilight nor When Harry Met Sally belongs to me. Please don't sue.

A/N: Thanks to Elizabethan for beta reading!


Chapter Seven: Rapacious

"I have the same dream all the time," I told Bella as we walked toward the Art Institute for the Matisse exhibition. She had insisted we see it, and I was more or less happy to comply with her whims, since she put up with so many of mine.

"I'm having sex with a woman in an exam room –" I continued, but Bella interrupted.

"Who's the woman?" She started at me, waiting for the answer to this vital question while she sipped at her coffee.

"Usually just a faceless woman," I lied. Over the years, many women had featured in my recurring sex dream – actresses, models, girlfriends, women I'd seen on the street. Lately, and more than once, Bella had been the star. With my subconscious conjuring up images of her naked, spread out on an exam table with her legs wrapped around me, it was impossible to ignore how attracted to her I was.

"Oh. Go on, then," she said, appeased.

"So, we're in the exam room, about to get to the big finish, when the door slams open, and in walks my dad, who starts berating me for unprofessional conduct in the workplace while I'm still inside the woman."

Bella stopped walking to gape at me, forcing me to stop, too. "You mean to say, you've been having this dream since med school? What, did your dad catch you masturbating as a kid or something?"

"No, that's the worst part!" I groaned as we started walking again. "There's no earthly reason for me to keep having this dream, but it just keeps coming."

Bella's lips twitched. "That's what she said."

I rolled my eyes, secretly pleased with her irreverent sense of humor. "Nicely done."

"Maybe it's Freudian," Bella mused. "Maybe your subconscious is telling you that your work is getting in the way of your love life."

That was one of my fears, and Bella knew that. I pursed my lips, unsure whether I wanted to play psychiatrist with a woman I hoped would someday want to have sex with me. "And what does my dad have to do with that?"

Bella shrugged. "He's a doctor, right? So he's probably the reason you became a doctor and the standard you're trying to live up to. Your brain sticks him in there to represent your fears of disappointment."

I weighed her conclusions in my mind. "Okay, fair enough. That makes sense. But why the sex? Why can't I be having a nice cuddle so that I don't have to wake up horny and mortified?"

Bella snickered. "Well, you are a man. Of course there's sex."

"Yeah, yeah. Like women never think about sex. Surely you've got your recurring dreams, too."

Bella shrugged again, and the slight flush of pink over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose gave her away.

"A-ha! C'mon, Bella, spill," I urged, nudging her shoulder with mine.

"I didn't ask you to share," Bella pointed out, pursing her lips. "You volunteered the information."

"You know you want to," I wheedled.

"No, it's embarrassing."

"I won't laugh," I promised. "Or psychoanalyze."

"You'll think it's weird," Bella complained.

"Well, I already think you're weird, so it shouldn't come as a surprise," I teased.

"Fine," Bella huffed. "In my dream, I wake up in the middle of the night, and the window is open, so I get up to close it. But just when I get to the window, someone grabs me from behind and pulls me back to the bed. Then suddenly he's on top of me, and he bites my neck."

"What, like…a love bite?" I asked skeptically.

"No, like a vampire bite," she said.

I blinked. "And then what?"

"That's it. That's the whole dream. The vampire comes in, bites me, and then I wake up."

She fidgeted with her coffee cup, so embarrassed, and I almost had to laugh at how adorable she was. "And that qualifies as a sex dream how?"

"Well, it feels good when he bites me. Like, really good. And then I wake up horny," Bella said matter-of-factly, challenging me with a glare to tease her about it. So of course, I did.

"That's messed up."

Bella smacked my shoulder. "You said you wouldn't psychoanalyze!"

"Oh, I'm not even trying to analyze that one. I have no idea what the hell is going on in your brain. But whatever it is, I'm positive it's messed up," I said, delighted with her riled-up reaction.

"Well, I'm sorry my subconscious isn't as well-adjusted as yours! At least my dad doesn't burst into the dream with his shotgun."

"I think I prefer my dad showing up to a vampire. Maybe you should eat some garlic before bed."

"I'm ignoring you now," Bella said, and she continued to ignore me for the rest of our walk, three blocks. I kept making vampire cracks anyway.


When we reached the museum, Bella's attention turned to the artwork, and I set the jokes aside in the face of her earnest enchantment with the pieces. Her childlike wonder cracked through my armor of cynicism.

Every day I was more alarmed by how much I liked Bella, in a way that I'd never really liked a woman before. In every relationship I'd ever had, even with my soon-to-be-ex-wife, I'd always felt on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the moment when I would say or do something that would piss the woman off and have her on a rampage. With Bella, I felt truly comfortable.

Well, mostly.

The more time I spent with Bella, the more I knew that friendship alone would not be enough for me. Not forever.

We were reaching the end of our tour through the museum, the end of our time together, and I knew I wasn't ready to part with her yet.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" She glanced up from the last painting.

"Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?" I asked, a full fantasy unraveling in my head. I would take her somewhere nice, and I would confess my attraction to her, and perhaps she would tell me she felt the same way. I'd drop her off at home, and after I kissed her, she'd ask me to come inside. We'd stumble back to her bedroom, kissing and undressing, and then –

"Um, I'm sorry, Edward, I can't tonight," Bella said awkwardly, avoiding my eyes, and my heart sunk.

"Got a hot date?" I asked without thinking, expecting her to announce plans with Alice or Rosalie. Only when Bella turned to me with anxious eyes did I realize a hot date was exactly what she had.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, feeling betrayed and trying not to show it. Minutes ago, we had been two wounded soldiers, banded together in the solidarity of the jilted. Now, a nauseating cocktail of jealousy and abandonment and disappointment swirled in my stomach.

"I don't know, I guess I didn't want to make a big deal about it, and I didn't want you to feel like…I don't know."

"No, it's great, Bella," I lied, fighting to paste on a smile. "It's good that you're getting back out there."

"Really?" Bella bit her lip, looking uncertain, and I knew I hadn't fooled her.

"Really," I said with fake enthusiasm. "I'm happy for you."

"I actually need to get going, to get ready. Will…will you be okay?" Bella asked.

I silenced a groan. How pitiful was I coming across as if Bella thought I was that fragile? Never mind that she was right. I didn't want her to see me that way.

"I'll be fine, of course I will. Have a good time tonight. You'll have to tell me about it after."

Bella nodded. "Do you want to come over for dinner after your next shift?"

"Sure," I agreed.

"Okay," Bella sighed, backing away from me. "I'll see you later. And Edward?"

"Yes?" I replied hopefully. I was hoping for something like, 'I'd rather be spending the evening with you.' Of course, that wasn't what I got.

"You should think about dating again, too."

I winced, burying my hands in my pockets. "I don't think I'm ready…."

"Edward, it's time," Bella said firmly before walking away from me.

I turned back to the last painting, not wanting to watch her go. Apparently, now wasn't the time for Bella and me. Maybe it would never be.

Maybe friendship would have to be enough.


A/N: Oh, Sadward. It'll get better, promise.

Still planning to update Bonne Foi tomorrow, probably in the evening (US central time, that is).