A/N: I hope you aren't too confused by the new title. Since I'm more than half way through this project and there seems to be a firm storyline at play here, I thought it deserved a real name. It's French and translates to Prompted (or Incited) Romance in English.

Prompt: Grim Reaper

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I wanted to check my watch but feared it would be obvious and Edward might think I was in a hurry to leave. In reality, I could feel that it was getting late and that our time was almost up. We were watching the last inning and that at least meant the game was nearly over.

Some people had already started leaving the stadium to try and beat traffic. Would he drive me straight home? …Maybe ask me for coffee? I knew I shouldn't be indulging in caffeinated beverages at this hour, considering my early start the next day. Yet, the idea of having a bit more time with him seemed to out way the cost.

Some game watchers a handful of rows below stood up but didn't leave. I realized that there were chunks of people throughout the bleachers doing the same. No one was close enough obstruct my view of the field but I still found myself wanting to know what I was missing.

I looked over to Edward to ask and he spoke before I could get the words out. "The game is close. If Romo doesn't make it around, the Giants will lose."

"Oh. Should we stand, too?" I asked

"We can…"

I wanted to show him that I was all in. That I'd fully absorbed the experience and was having a good time. So, I smiled, folded the blanket off of me and onto him, and then hopped up. He beamed back, folded the blanket once more, and placed it in the seat on his opposite side. Then he joined me.

He, again, explained what would need to happen in order for the Giants to win, pointing to different places on the field and sharing his predictions. He was entirely optimistic and exuberant. I couldn't help but feel excited, too.

I shoved my hands in my tight pockets, trying to protect them from the cool air. Of course, he noticed. "Are you warm enough?"

"I'm sure I'll live."

Apparently that wasn't a sufficient answer because he reached behind and grabbed the blanket. I expected he'd wrap it over my shoulders but instead he draped it over his own. Then he stepped behind me and pulled it over me, as well.

This was even better than when it had covered me in the chair. His body heat seemed to circulate through the fabric and I felt myself melt into him. He brought his lips close to my ear and whispered, offsetting the heat with melodious voiced chills.

"It's nice to hold you without your life being at risk."

"Thanks for keeping the Grim Reaper away."

*****

Edward was right and the Giants won, by the skin of their heels. After enough people had filed out, we followed suit and exited the stadium. He held my hand as we slowly took the ten minute walk to the nearest parking lot.

I couldn't believe how much fun I'd had. It was strange to feel so free and comfortable. I hadn't thought about work at all. I wasn't concerned about the next semester of business school starting back up or what chores I'd need to get done when I went home. I didn't even feel guilty about the blinking message from my mom that waited on my machine.

However, as nice as it felt, it was also a bit worrying. Was this only possible with him? If we didn't see each other again after tonight, would I just revert back into my tunnel vision rut? I was almost positive it would be all too easy to do so. Both notions – of returning to the norm and never seeing him again – created a twinge of pain that simmered from some cavity within my chest.

About half way through the drive home, Edward finally broke the silence. "You're quiet, again. Any chance you'll tell me what you're thinking, tonight?"

I wanted to. I felt like I'd already come a long way from the tight lipped girl at lunch, just the day before. However, I still had trouble with giving up too much of myself. What if I was tearing down pieces that I'd need to keep together in the end? As warm as he was and as comfortable as I felt around him, I'd still only known him for about a day and already appeared to be far too attached.

Though, further still, wasn't that how people came to know one another? Didn't I need to open up to him in order for that to happen? He didn't appear to be holding much back from me and he'd clearly been through worse. What had I even been through?

"I'm trying to figure out why this is hard for me." He waited for me to continue, probably being cautious. "I've never really been a big believer in…" I didn't know how to complete the sentence.

"Love?" he finished for me. My face burned hot at the very small but equally enormous term. "Don't worry. It's just a word." He was only trying to lighten the tension because we both knew that it was much more than that.

"Well, I guess that's it," I answered, uneasily. "I haven't exactly had the greatest examples. It's always seemed so fairy tale like to me. And, I honestly have no clue what I'm doing, right now."

"Does anyone know how to do this?"

"I suppose not." I couldn't even face him. This was not only embarrassing to talk about, but it made me feel so vulnerable. He pulled in to the curb he'd picked me up from earlier and parked the car. Then he turned to me, leaning against the arm rest.

"Bella…" He slipped his hand under my chin, wordlessly asking for my eyes. I shifted to meet him, then. We were within inches of each other. "Do you like me?"

"Of course," I confirmed, softly. Even though it should have been obvious by now, he still blushed and smiled with what could only be relief. He curved his fingers over my skin and I unconsciously tilted into them.

"I like you, too. And while I think we should take this slowly, I'm pretty confident that I'm going to much more than like you in the future. So, I'm hoping you'll give me the chance to earn the same feelings from you."

I could only nod to that. I hoped he understood that I was beyond acquiescent. None of the words that came to mind seemed to convey the appropriate emotion.

Instead of saying anything else, he traveled the short distance between us and placed his lips over mine. This time, I had no doubts; no hesitations. I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

He slipped his hand into my loose hair and I matched him with a hand on his cheek. I unfastened my lips and sampled his with the tip of my tongue. His mouth was ajar and my taste buds were shortly greeted by his in return. I opened further, wanting as much of him as he'd give me and for him to have the same from me.

I felt his other hand on my thigh, sliding back and forth. I inched closer, lost in the feel and taste of him. He skated up my hip, just under the hem of my sweater, and the heat from his hand seared through me. He gripped at my skin and a tiny whine whistled from my nose as I kissed him with even more fervor. Then, all too quickly and familiarly, Edward pulled away. He rested his head on my shoulder as we both panted.

"I can see now," he gasped, "that this slow thing is going to be anything but easy."