It was seven days later. He'd beaten Federer, kicked his ass actually. Carlisle and Esme sat in the stands with the rest of the group. I was taking some beautiful pictures of Edward as he warmed up. And he was getting ready to win the U.S. Open Championship. I was a proud motherfucker.

I smiled at Edward as he paced back and forth by his bench. I could tell he was nervous as shit. This was the farthest he'd ever made it in a tournament and this was a pretty big one. I mean you basically had Wimbledon and the Australian, French and U.S. Opens. Those were the ones that mattered. And one of those had already been violently ripped away from him so I wanted this for him. I wanted this for him so badly that I was shaking as I tried to take his picture.

I glanced up at the clouds towering over us and hoped the rain would hold off. He was anxious enough without having to deal with shitty weather drawing out the match.

I watched as he pulled a small piece of paper from his racquet bag. He smiled a little as he read it and briefly glanced my way. I'd written it this morning and asked Emmett to slip it in there before the match. I told him that I loved him and that he was destined for greatness. He shook his head at the recycled Shakespeare idea, but I didn't care. I've never met someone who really made me believe in that. I knew that Edward was truly destined for greatness and I wanted to make sure he knew it too.

The referee said something to Edward and his opponent and they shook each other's hand before retreating to their sides.

"Mr. Roddick will serve first," the announcer said. Andy Roddick. I'd learned a lot about him since that charity tournament, Serves like a motherfucker and was hot as hell. Had this long running tradition of meeting Federer in competition and rarely ever pulling out the win. And Edward kicked Federer's ass. I thought back to any logic problem I had back in high school and determined that Edward should in fact win if things worked the way they were supposed to. Of course they never did.

Edward had some problems adjusting to Roddick's serving. I could imagine it was pretty close to receiving one of his serves, since people often compared the two. He went the entire first game without even hitting a ball. He ended up winning his serve and eventually adjusted to receiving them as well. The first set ended in a tiebreaker, which was something Edward hadn't gotten around to explaining to me yet. I couldn't imagine they were that common. I'd only seen one other one and was too confused to even contemplate figuring it out.

They made it through four sets, tied at two a piece, before the rain started coming down. Everyone in the audience reached for ponchos or just gave up and left the courts. It eventually started raining so hard that they recessed the game until it let up and the court could dry off a little.

Edward and Andy grabbed their things and retired back to their individual locker rooms. Emmett was allowed to go back and talk to him during the break, but the rest of us just stood around out of the rain while we waited.

"Hey Alice," I asked. "What's a tiebreaker?"

"Oh." She put her phone away and turned towards me. "So usually during a set you have to win by two games right….like 6-4 or 7-5. But if a 6-6 tie happens they do a tiebreaker, which is kind of like a mini game. And that's the only time you can win a set 7-6. It's kind of complicated."

"Yeah I guess so. Sorry I asked." I smiled. I was about to say something else, but the sound of Edward's name caught my ear.

"We're still working through a rain delay at the men's final of the U.S. Open between Andy Roddick and Edward Cullen. Right now they're tied at two sets a piece and are set to start the fifth and deciding set. Each man has looked relatively solid, except for a minor hiccup by Cullen in the first set. Seems to be at least keeping his temper in check, which is surprising," he laughed.

Who is this fucker?

I turned towards him and realized he looked vaguely familiar. He had graying hair so I knew he wasn't a current player, but definitely someone I'd run into along my tennis learning adventures. I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

"John McEnroe," Rosalie said, leaning in close to me.

Seriously? He's the one who had all those anger problems when he played and now he's making a joke about Edward. Before I knew it my feet were walking towards him, completely oblivious to the camera he was speaking into.

"Excuse me?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Miss I'm doing a live broadcast right now."

"I'm sorry but did I just hear you ragging on Edward Cullen for his temperament?"

"And you are?"

The camera shifted to me and I started feeling really self-conscious. "A fan."

"Well…fan…its no secret that Edward has shown attitude problems in his past games." He fidgeted anxiously and I could tell he was starting to get pissed that I'd called him out on live television.

"I could say the same about you. You pretty much invented the bad attitude," I snapped. "What just because he's a better player than you ever were you think you can just be a hypocritical asshole about it? Well fuck you John McEnroe." Shit. I just said "fuck" on live television. This network was about to have fines up the ass.

I turned around and walked away, feeling completely embarrassed. I don't know what happened but he pissed me off. Stupid…little…angry man.

I rejoined the group who had all stopped talking and were staring at me with wide-eyes.

"Bells," Jasper laughed. "You were such a dick!" He laughed again and high-fived me.

We waited a solid hour and a half before the match started back up.

Edward and Andy took a little time to warm up again before restarting play.

They fought back and forth the entire set and I could tell Edward was getting frustrated with his playing. He knew he could beat this guy and he was working twice as hard as he should have to. And if I thought I was nervous before the match started, that was nothing compared to now. I had to clench my jaw so I wouldn't start gnawing my fingers off.

Edward was ahead 6-5. If he could win this next service game he'd have it and it would all be over. But that was way easier said than done. This match had lasted over six hours, with them actually playing for about four. I can't even imagine standing that long, let alone running across a court.

"Deuce," the announcer said. Now that one I knew. Just like with the sets, you had to win games by two points. When they tied at 40-40, it was called deuce, just because they like to confuse the fuck out of people and have two names for it. Then there's something like ad-ins, ad-outs, ad-whatevers and then you win.

Edward took a deep breath and stepped up to the baseline. He wiped a line of sweat from his forehead before he did his serving routine. The ball flew across the court, landing right on the centerline. Roddick lunged for it and hit it back. They rallied back and forth several times until one of Roddick's forehands drifted into the net.

My breath hitched in my throat as I captured a picture of Edward's face. This was it. He was one point away from winning the U.S. Open.

"Match point," the announcer said.

Edward's eyes flickered to mine for the shortest moment before he stepped up to the baseline. He took a deep breath, his shoulders heaving up and down. I almost couldn't watch. It was like the other night at the horror flick. I knew something big was coming and I never wanted to watch it, but I always did.

Edward threw his toss up and snapped down on it. It shot right into the net and I let out the breath I'd been holding. He looked back at me and I nodded slightly. Come on baby, you can do this.

I brought my camera in front of my face, ready to capture the moment. His serve went straight into the net again and we were back to deuce. In fact they went back and forth to deuce four times before Edward had a match point again.

My hand was clutched so tight around my camera, I thought they were going to have to buy me another new one. Edward threw his serve up and it made it over this time, thankfully. Roddick shot the ball back over to his backhand and I winced as Edward struggled to return it. Edward rushed up to the net, ready to volley over Roddick's next hit. The ball flew right into Edward's racquet; he didn't even have to do much except angle it the way he wanted. It sliced to the side, barely brushing along the line of white and bounced on completely untouched.

"Oh my God," I whispered, a smile spreading across my face. Everything started happening in slow motion. I barely registered the cheers of the crowd around me, they were merely muffled sounds. Edward's racquet dropped to the court as he slowly turned around, running his fingers through his hair. I don't think I've ever seen him smile so big in his life.

He titled his face upward and closed his eyes as he dropped to his knees, clenching his fists tight at his sides. He opened his eyes again and I knew he was talking to his mother. Edward had never talked much about heaven or whether he believed in God or not, but it was too obvious in that moment to be blind to it.

I held in my tears as I kept snapping pictures. These right here? These were the moments a photographer lived for. And these were the moments I lived for with him.

He jumped up and started screaming, waving his arms in the air. He started towards me, looking like he was going to wrap me up in a huge hug. I knew it'd be more than a tip-off if I was the first one he ran to at a moment like this, but I almost wished he would. I wanted to be that person for him and even knowing that he wanted to show that kind of gesture made me realize just how deep our relationship truly was.

He quickly caught himself and offered me an apologetic smile as he darted past me and scaled the railing, quickly running to find his family. I wasn't angry, I completely understood. I turned around just in time to see Alice jump up into his arms and wrap her legs around him. Esme leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek as Carlisle patted his back. He let go of Alice and moved onto Emmett, who looked like he was crying tears of joy. They had a private moment before Edward made his way back down to the court.

He picked up his racquet and showed some love to the crowd as a man dressed in a suit made his way out onto the court. He held a microphone and a big shiny object in his hands.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you so much for attending this year's U.S. Open and I would like to congratulate all of our athletes on their success." He turned towards Andy and shook his hand. "Congratulations on your achievements, you two gave us a heck of a match." He smiled and turned towards Edward, who was staring at me with a silly grin on his face. "This year's winner of the Men's U.S. Open….Edward Cullen!"

The crowd erupted again as the man handed Edward his trophy. Edward proudly displayed it to the crowd and started posing for pictures. I sat and watched for a while, soaking it all in before I started packing up my stuff. I met up with Alice and the rest of the group. She showed her pass to the security guy and he let us back into Edward's locker room, where the champagne was already waiting.

It took forever before Edward even made his way to the locker room, but we were all too ecstatic to care. We all started screaming as soon as he opened the door. Emmett popped the champagne and handed everyone a glass. It was a flurry of conversation and smiles and just…fucking happy.

After a while of celebrating everyone started dispersing, wanting to give Edward some time to clean up. Rosalie was the last one in the room with Edward and me. He still stood feet away from me, trying to keep up appearances.

"Edward. You just won the U.S. Open. Go hug your girlfriend ass." She laughed and slipped outside of the room.

Edward smiled and sauntered over to me. "I haven't showered yet, you probably don't want…."

I cut him off by throwing my arms around him. I honestly didn't care.

He laughed and picked me up so my feet were dangling above the ground.

"I wanted to go to you so bad. You were the first person I wanted to…"

"I know," I whispered. I kissed his neck. "I understand, I know."

He started rocking us back and forth and I started feeling the tears slip down my face.

"Why are you crying?" He sniffed.

"Why are you?" I laughed through my tears. "I'm just so proud of you."

He sighed and smiled into my neck. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

We held each other for as long as we could before Rosalie came knocking on the door. Edward had a press conference to get to so he had to shower. I gave him a quick kiss and stepped outside. Rosalie and I made our way through the crowds and she dropped me off in my usual spot while she waited beside the stage. Edward appeared eventually with Alice and they all walked on together. I didn't bother taking pictures at this one. I just wanted to be a girlfriend who was happy for the man she loved. That's it.

He was completely grateful throughout his whole statement, thanking his friends and family for all their support and congratulating the other players. He finished up fairly quickly and took a few questions from the crowd.

Alice pulled me aside after it was finished and told me that I could have the next few days off. She just figured I'd have a lot of pictures to develop and she was completely right. Even with that rat bastard, whoever he was, taking all my film I'd still taken a lot of pictures. She said Edward would just be doing a whirlwind of interviews probably for the next week. They were already scheduled to hit L.A. and Chicago for talk shows before coming back to Seattle.

We all headed back to the hotel and I started packing up our things. We were heading back in the morning and the rest of them would be filtering back over the course of the week.

Edward snuck over to stay with me again, but he fell right to sleep. I could imagine he was probably exhausted. I wasn't quite tired yet but I was almost thankful that he was because there were few things I loved more than watching Edward sleep.

I turned towards him and traced my finger down his jaw, smiling to myself at how beautiful he was. I couldn't fathom why he loved me like he did, it didn't make sense. I never thought when I took this job that I would ever end up here. Even after meeting him I couldn't have imagined it. He was cocky, arrogant, a complete asshole. And he was still all those things, but he was so much more. So much more than he lets people see and I wish he wouldn't keep that part so hidden. I want people to see him like I do. Imperfectly perfect.

I left Edward sleeping on the pull out the next morning, knowing that he probably wanted to sleep in. I kissed his cheek and left him a note before grabbing my bag and slipping out. I met Jasper down in the lobby and we took a cab to the airport.

Once we got back in Seattle I spent my time either developing pictures of Edward, talking to Edward, or watching Edward talk on television shows. And when one of the first two interrupted the latter, I TiVo'ed the shit out of it.

I started getting a little antsy when the fifth day rolled around. I loved talking to him, but I missed his presence. It just wasn't the same and I couldn't wait for him to get back. He didn't technically know when that would be but I was fairly sure it was soon. And another good thing about him coming back is that we could discuss the Alice situation a little more. He said we'd tell her after the U.S. Open. I wasn't going to push him to do it right away necessarily; I didn't want to be a downer on his win. But it needed to happen soon.

"Jazz, I'm heading up to the darkroom." I waved to him as he sat on the couch.

"Okay."

I closed the door behind me and headed up the stairs. I sighed when I stepped inside the darkroom. There were lines and lines of pictures of Edward. There were so many I could probably make a fucking wallpaper out of it and redo our entire apartment. I had a feeling Jasper wouldn't be very excited about having Edward wallpaper so I let that idea go.

I pulled out some more of the undeveloped film and started the process all over again. I think these were just some from one of the press conferences, but you never know what you might stumble upon. Those were almost my favorite kinds of pictures. The ones where you think it's going to be something boring and mundane, but you end up catching that moment. That one moment where something ordinary becomes extraordinary. And with Edward anything is possible.

A knock on the door made me jump and almost spill my developing solution all over. I turned my head to make sure the curtain was still in place. It was something I had Jasper help me put up when I first started developing pictures up here. There weren't many people that know about it, but light can be brutal to the pictures when you're developing them so I didn't want any accidents. The curtain was good enough that it blocked out almost all the light that would filter through when the door was opened, just in case.

"Come in," I called, assuming it was Jasper.

I heard the door creak open and close as someone moved behind the curtain. I closed the cap on my developing solution and turned to greet him.

"Edward?" I squinted into the red tinted room.

"Uh…Jasper told me you were up here. I hope its okay." He shrugged.

"No it's more than okay. I'm so happy you're here, I didn't know you were coming back today." I took the few steps to him and brushed my lips against his. "How did everything go?" I turned back to my table and kept working.

"Good. I'm happy to be home though."

"I bet." I started developing some of the pictures as Edward scanned the lines of him hanging above. I knew he couldn't see them very well with the lighting, but he got the idea. He leaned up against the wall and ran his finger along his lip as he looked around.

I blushed as I felt his eyes on me and he smirked.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know. I'm kind of turned on watching you do this."

I sighed and laughed under my breath as I hung up one of the pictures. I turned back and he was suddenly behind me.

"You think it's funny?" He brushed my hair over my shoulder and I shuddered. "I can only imagine taking you on this table." He ran his fingers along the edge of the table and over my hips. Well now that he put it that way, I was right there with him. "Maybe from behind." He brushed his hands over my ass and squeezed.

My body melted back into him as I closed my eyes. I never knew developing pictures could be so sexy. I turned my face towards him, my lips blindly searching for his.

He captured my mouth in his, groaning against my lips. His hands drifted up my stomach and grazed over my breasts before he started fingering my tank top straps. He pushed them down, taking my bra straps with them, all the way to my stomach. I gasped, feeling my chest completely exposed.

"God I want you." He ground his hips into my ass. "Can I fuck you?" He asked, his breath ragged. I bit down on his bottom lip as he started to pull away.

I reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants.

He growled and reached around to unbutton my pants and shove them down to my ankles. I whimpered as he pushed me down on the table, leaving me completely vulnerable to him bent over the table.

I screamed out as he entered me roughly, grabbing the opposite edge of the table for support as he started slamming into me. The table started rocking back and forth, creaking with his movements.

"Shit," I breathed, cringing in pleasure as he hit spots he never had before. It was so intense I could feel it in my fingertips, which were holding on with everything they had.

His palm was flat against my back, keeping me flush against the cool metal table. It was an amazing contrast to the heat that was starting to spread through my entire body.

"Fuck!" He hissed. "You have no idea how good this feels."

"Harder," I whispered, allowing my eyes to flutter shut. I licked my lips and pushing my hips back to meet him.

He surprised me when he grabbed my thigh and turned me over completely so I was on my back. I whimpered, smiling to myself when I felt him twist inside me as I moved. He kept one leg hitched up around his hip and started massaging my breasts. As much as I loved the feeling before, I liked seeing his face better. He was biting down on his bottom lip hard, concentrating with everything he had. I curled my leg around to his ass and pushed him closer.

"I'm gonna…" He hissed, thrusting once more before slamming his hands down on the table beside my body. He slowed his movements and brought his hand down to palm my center, working his fingers there.

He was still riding out his release when I found mine, screaming so loud my throat burned. I reached for Edward and found my hands knotted in his hair as I pulled him towards me. He kissed me slowly, allowing his tongue to explore mine.

"That was…" he started.

"Fucking amazing. Or amazing fucking. Either way it was hot," I breathed, finishing his sentence for him.

"My thoughts exactly." He smiled and kissed me again. "I hope we didn't ruin your pictures."

"It was just a roll of press conference stuff. It's okay." I sighed and relished a few more moments with him before I stood up. I looked back at the table and laughed, seeing a clear imprint of my body on the shiny metal surface in sweat.

I pulled my pants back on as he got dressed.

"I don't think I'm ever going to look at this room the same," I laughed, grabbing his hand and starting for the door. In fact I might have to relocate the little underwear drawer friend up here because there's no way I'm going to forget that anytime soon.

A/N: Did you think we'd go the whole story without some darkroom sexin? Nah ; )

Reminder to send in pics and votes. Also if you're a good photoshopper and want to spend some time with Tennisward I have a few jobs available.

Thanks : )