BPOV

I headed into work on Monday morning on an Edward-induced high. It was probably incredibly immature of me and possibly against the girl-power attitude Femme's mission statement was based around, but I couldn't help being overtly excited that I, Bella Swan, was somebody's girlfriend. And not just someone, but the girlfriend of a finally a nice, decent guy who worked hard, cared about his family and most of all put making me happy at the top of his priority list. That day Irina and I were set to start interviewing her replacement assistant. Before we began the interviews, I wanted to thank Irina for pushing Edward and I together since she obviously saw what was there before either of us could.

My unflappable good mood was shaken when I arrived at my desk to find Victoria there waiting for me, even sitting in my desk chair. I sort of wanted to tell her to get out of my space, but she was practically my boss now. The last thing I needed was to give Victoria any more reason to find fault with me. I slid my bag off my shoulder and placed it on the desk, wondering if that would be enough for her to get the message that she wasn't welcome where she was.

"I was wondering when you were coming in," Victoria said snippily.

"I'm not due to report for work for another fifteen minutes," I pointed out. Victoria huffed, as if this was still unacceptable. "Is there anything you need from me?"

"You didn't email me back within twenty-four hours of me sending your assignment," Victoria said tersely. "It's been two days since I sent you the information and I haven't received confirmation it was received. That is highly irresponsible."

"When did you send it?" I asked, slightly panicked.

"Saturday morning," Victoria said.

"Saturday morning? How would I have gotten it if you sent it Saturday morning?" I frowned. "I don't have access to the office email system from my home computer."

"That's not my problem," Victoria snorted. "Perhaps I should send this assignment to someone else who can actually do their work promptly."

"I can handle it," I insisted, not wanting to sound angered but at the same time feeling Victoria was being completely unfair. "I wasn't previously aware there was a way for me to remotely access my email outside of work. If you could show me how to do that, I would greatly appreciate it. And I'm sure that would never happen again. Do you have a program that allows you to access it at home or something?"

"No, I came into the office Saturday morning and sent it," Victoria snorted.

"So… you can't access email outside the office?" I asked, playing dumb.

"No," Victoria snarled.

"Then…how was I supposed to get it without coming into the locked office?" I asked curiously, still playing dumb.

"I want an outline of how you plan to accomplish this assignment sent to me by four p.m. today," Victoria ordered me, ignoring what I had said completely. "You will have two weeks from today to have it finished and on my desk for proofing. And it better be top notch work. I have deadlines to meet and the last thing I need to be dealing with are your basic grammar and syntax mistakes."

"I'll get right on it," I nodded.

"Good," Victoria said, turning up her nose. She jumped up out of my chair and headed back to her own desk. I honestly hoped I wouldn't have to deal with her the rest of the day. She had already managed to spoil my morning as it was.

I sat down at my desk, a little annoyed that my chair had some warmth left over from where Victoria had been sitting in it. I opened up my bag and started setting up my things for the day, logged on to my computer, and started to look for the email Victoria had sent me. While I waited for that to load, my phone chimed signaling I had a text message. I sighed and picked it up, but smiled when I noticed I had a message from Edward:

"Have a great day at work! : )"

I smiled at the message and decided maybe Victoria hadn't managed to completely ruin my morning after all. I went to work and waited for Irina to come in. I spent the first half of my day with Irina interviewing all of the candidates who had come. I was surprised to find the fourth candidate who had come in was Angela Webber, who I had known during my childhood in Forks. Of course, she was Angela Cheney now and she and Ben were hoping to earn some extra income after moving to the city. Irina liked her instantly and, knowing how attentive to detail and hard-working Angela was growing up, I thought she would be a good candidate for my former position as well. The fact that she was easily the most qualified candidate didn't hurt either. When lunch rolled around, our interviews for the day were over. Irina went to lunch and I started brainstorming about the new assignment Victoria had given me.

I had to admit, Victoria's idea intrigued me, and I couldn't wait to get working on the assignment. In light of the recession, she wanted to do an in depth piece on what it was like to be a homeless woman in America, whether these women had left abusive husbands, lost their jobs, or just found themselves in bad circumstances. I immediately launched into some background research, getting the names of some local shelters, statistics on women and homelessness as well as finding good contacts for officials who deal with women, unemployment and homelessness I could get in touch with for more background information. There was nothing more invigorating than getting started on a really good assignment and thinking of all the different angles I could take the story.

I made sure to have a full outline of people I wanted to talk to, possible side bars for the story, some photo ideas to accompany my story, as well as my own detailed ideas of how and when I was going to approach the subject. I made sure not only to print out a copy but to send myself a copy of the email I sent to Victoria to make sure it got there. I had sent the email to her a good hour before she said she had wanted all the information, so I was feeling pretty confident in myself. With my outline sent to her, I used the couple of hours left in my day to contact some of the names I had come across in my research in the hopes of getting a good jump start on my assignment. I was feeling very confident when, at four-o-five I received a reply to my email from Victoria:

These ideas are okay for a beginner, though I doubt they are what we need to grab our readers' interest. I think a fresh angle would be sending you undercover for a first-person piece. Perhaps 24-hours in the life of a homeless woman perspective.

Sure, I sympathize with the plight of the less fortunate, but I was pretty iffy about Victoria's idea. I mean, a big city can be a scary place for any young, single woman, but particularly for one who has the appearance of a vulnerable, homeless person. I was a little terrified Victoria's "perspective piece" was going to get me raped or stabbed with a box cutter or something. And Charlie would definitely I blow a gasket if he read about how I spent a day on the streets in such a exposed position. Even though I didn't want to play that card, I honestly couldn't see Emily or Irina approving something so risky. I mean, yeah, we had freelancers who had been dropped into Afghanistan, Mexican streets controlled by drug lords and war-torn Sudan, but they all ha d bodyguards, constant contact with the closest U.S. embassy, and could easily be extracted if the situation got too dire. I had the feeling Victoria was imagining me helpless and hopeless, alone on the Seattle streets. I quickly typed back:

What is the protocol for an under-cover story like this? Do we have to get approval from Emily and Irina? And what about photos? How do we want to handle that?

I sighed and sat back at my computer, hoping Victoria maybe was thinking twice about the assignment. However, I nearly dry heaved when, two seconds later, I received her reply:

I'll handle that. I think Thursday would be good for this assignment. You'll have to come in early for your "make under" as a homeless woman. I think hair and beauty could offer some valuable advice. And just wear some old clothes that day. I hardly think anyone would be able to tell you aren't really homeless that way.

As silly as it sounds, I honestly began wondering if Victoria wanted to kill me. After all, sending someone alone into the nitty-gritty streets of a major city seemed like a good way to get rid of them. I tried not to think too much about Victoria's great idea of sending me undercover and refocused back on collecting background information for my story. I quickly decided the idea was just a product of my over-active imagination. Sure, Victoria may not have taken an immediate shine to me, but I hardly believed she would put me in a situation that might reflect badly on her own career if something went wrong. Even if she wasn't the easiest person to get along with, I would hardly characterize Victoria as stupid.

On the way out of the office, I managed to catch an elevator ride down with Leah. I had heard gossip in the halls throughout the day that she was acting like a whole different person, but I didn't really believe it until I saw her. Instead of the usual ball-busting power suit she always wore Leah had donned a free-flowing hippie skirt. She also had a shit-eating grin across her face and was actually smiling. Leah Clearwater was smiling. I was almost scared to see it.

"So…uh… how did your weekend go?" I asked as the door closed.

"Fantastic," Leah said with a sigh.

"Did you and Jacob have fun after you left Friday night?" I asked, trying to be polite.

"Oh yeah," Leah smirked.

"I'm glad," I smiled back at her.

"I have to say, that was the best weekend I've had in a long time," Leah admitted. "Probably because I wasn't completely focused on work. It's nice to have other things to occupy you, you know?"

"Uh-huh," I agreed. Suddenly, Leah frowned.

"God, I must seem like a total hypocrite," she groaned. "I'm all about girl power and sistas doing it for themselves, but here I am drooling all over some guy."

"I don't think you're a hypocrite," I shook my head.

"You don't?" Leah said hopefully.

"No," I shook my head. "You're a hard-working woman who kicks ass at her job and you know what, for all the hard work you put in day in and day out and all the shit you're always dealing with, you deserve to go home and have a hot guy give you a foot massage or something."

"Oh, it was something," Leah smirked, falling back into her lustful haze.

"I think this is a good thing for you," I told her. "Just because you're career is going well doesn't mean you should be fulfilled in other aspects of your life. I mean, isn't that the dream, you know?"

"Good job, sexy guy and designer shoes?" Leah nodded. "I mean, I guess that's part of what I've wanted. I've always been the 'I need a man like a fish needs a bicycle' type… I guess it's not about needing though, is it? It guess it's more about the wanting. I mean, it's nice to feel needed but it's nicer to feel wanted, you know?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "And he seems to me to be the type of guy who would respect you wanting to have a career, even encourage it."

"So, I shouldn't feel guilty I had a weekend long sex marathon?" Leah asked.

"If anyone deserves a weekend-long sex marathon, it's you Leah Clearwater," I laughed as the elevator doors opened.

Talking with Leah made me feel better about my situation with Victoria, however, it didn't prepare me for what I would find when I arrived home. I couldn't help but be surprised when I came home that evening to find not just Emmett and Edward sitting on the couch in Rose's and my living room watching ESPN. Emmett was again folding his underwear into a laundry basket while Edward was sitting next to him on the couch, eating what appeared to be a knock-off brand of Cheetos. As soon as the door opened, they both monetarily turned to look at me like two dogs that had just heard a piece of bacon drop in the kitchen.

"Uh… hi," I said, still unsure why they were in my apartment.

"Hey, Bells! Hope you don't mind that I dragged the old ball and chain up here," Emmett grinned at me. "I got Rosie's key from her so I could do my laundry. Damn landlord, trying to charge me a dollar twenty-five per load. Anyway, I ran out of detergent and was feeling a little hungry, so I headed down to the Safeway. And look who I found hanging around! I promised Rosie I'd pick up some takeout for everyone later, so I figured why not invite lover boy over, huh? More the merrier? Besides, I get lonely when I do laundry…"

"I just went in for a snack and some more stickie notes," Edward said, as if he was expecting me to be upset and trying to placate me in advance.

"Uh…okay," I nodded. "I'm going to go change into something… that's not work clothes… and Emmett, you better not be drying your unmentionables in my bedroom again."

"Believe me, I learned that lesson well after you put the chili powder in them," Emmett agreed, continuing to fold his stuff.

So, sure, I said I was changing into something more comfortable, but with Edward in the next room, I didn't want to come out looking like a complete slob like I do most evenings. Instead of throwing on my usual ratty rags, I threw on the pair of super tight yoga pants Rose swore made my butt look great and an old Forks High School t-shirt my boobs finally grew into midway through college. After combing my hair, checking my teeth and touching up my makeup, I was satisfied that I had accomplished the "I'm sexy even though I don't care how I look" look. I came out to find Edward sitting awkwardly alone on his couch while Emmett was bustling around in the laundry room, changing clothes between the washer and dryer.

"He's on his like third load of underwear. Just underwear," Edward stage whispered to me. "How much does one man need?"

"Oh, Emmett waits until he's used every piece of clothing he has before he does laundry," I said. "And sometimes he avoids doing laundry by just buying new clothes. Ergo, he has tons of clothes and comes over here for free laundry service once a month or so."

"You don't mind?" Edward asked curiously.

"Emmett irons and I hate ironing," I shrugged. "If we want him to iron say a blouse or pair of pants, he does it no questions asked. And he does all of our towels and stuff like that for us when he does his laundry. He does Rose's laundry too, though she's stopped letting him do her underwear. He keeps 'forgetting' do to her bras in the hopes she'd run out and have to go braless."

"Does he do… your laundry?" Edward asked.

"Oh, hell no," I snorted. "Just the occasional ironing. I don't want to touch Emmett's nasty dirty clothes and I'm sure he feels the same way about mine."

"Yeah, that would be pretty gross," Emmett called from the laundry room. "No offense, Bells, but having to do your laundry would be something akin to washing my mom's underwear or something. Totally nasty."

"So, Emmett abducted you from the Safeway?" I asked, cuddling up to him on the couch. Edward blushed but slung his arm around me. We both let out a sigh of contentment. It just felt right.

"I guess that's a fair assessment," Edward nodded. "I was out of stickie notes and needed new pens… and of course I got hungry so I ran into him in the snack food aisle. Next thing I know, I'm following him up here."

"Ah, it's not like I held a gun to you or anything," Emmett snorted, returning to the living room with a fresh basket of clean laundry to fold. "You'd be happy to know, Bells, I told him he had at least five minutes before you got home to snoop through your underwear drawer and read your diary, but he opted not to."

"I don't keep a diary, Emmett," I rolled my eyes. "And before you ask, I'm not telling you where Rose hides hers."

"I bet she writes tons of sexy stuff about me in it," Emmett wiggled his eyebrows.

"So, how was work?" Edward asked me.

"Okay," I sighed. "My new boss is really starting to get to me, though. I know it's harsh to say, but I'm starting to wonder if she wants me to fail. Or get eaten by wolves or something."

"She's probably just threatened," Edward said. "You're new talent coming in and you've gotten a lot of praise from her higher ups… Maybe she's worried you'll replace her or something. Or maybe she's testing you."

"Maybe she's a super bitch," Emmett suggested.

"Is it so bad for me to want her to like me?" I sighed. "I mean, she doesn't have to thing I'm the most talented magazine writer of our generation, but if she would at least smile without having any bite behind it. You know, tolerate me like a fellow human being…"

"Some people are just tough," Edward shrugged. "Maybe if you get to know her and crack her shell a little, she'll open up."

"Or you'll find out she's just an evil super bitch," "Emmett said.

"My mom always told me as a kid to be nice to people, even when they're mean to you, because you don't know what's going on in your life," Edward said.

"I guess," I sighed.

"My vote is still super bitch," Emmett said.

"You're delightful, Emmett," I snorted.

"Oh, speaking of super things," Emmett said, "you can't have your man next Saturday night."

"Um… why?" I asked.

"Because he, me and Jasper are going on a man date to see that new super hero movie next Saturday," Emmett said. "And due, I am totally wearing a costume."

"You signed up to see Emmett in spandex?" I laughed at Edward.

"No," he frowned. "I said I was thinking about going and Emmett turned into a 'man date.'"

"A three-way man date," Emmett nodded.

"I'll get working on a Bella signal for you to send up in case things go wrong Saturday, which I expect they will," I whispered to Edward.

"You're a life saver," he replied before giving me a peck on the lips.

"Aw," Emmett smirked. "ain't that cute?"