Rating M

Disclaimer – Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight –
I just like to get weird with her characters.

Much love and thanks to my beta love, Carrie ZM, and my wonderful pre-readers,
Planetblue and Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy for all the time you've put into this fic.
Writing with you girls is always a blast!

EPOV

Three Months Later

"Sector 4, Blueberry is ready to be topped," I mutter aloud, scrawling it on the clipboard for the Cultivation Supervisor to handle while I'm away in Amsterdam this week. Turning the corner, I'm about to check on the Northern Lights when I hear the heavy production room door open then slam shut.

I freeze, trying not to panic because the grow crew went home around five o'clock and it has to be almost eleven. My inner MacGyver kicks in, and I'm wondering what kind of damage I can do to the prowler with a clipboard, a pencil and a shitload of topsoil. The possibilities are endless.

"Edward," the intruder calls out from the entrance of the greenhouse, sounding exactly like my girlfriend.

"Back here."

"Where's here?"

"Northern Lights."

"Indicas?"

"Very good."

I hear the swish, swish, swish of her Minion suit—as she calls it— before I see her smiling face turn the corner. "Working late tonight?"

"Uh yeah," I stammer, tapping my pen against the clipboard, "just wanted to do one last walk through the grow rooms before we leave tomorrow."

"That's what I figured." She winks and holds up her hand with my phone in it. "You forgot something upstairs."

"Christ." I shake my head. "I'm all over the place today."

"You all right?"

"Yeah," I lie.

Lifting up on her tiptoes, she curls her fingers around my neck and kisses me softly. "Nervous?"

I shrug.

"You've got nothing to be worried about. Your plants are going to be fine. And that Cup is as good as yours," she whispers against my lips before kissing me again. "You've got this."

Tucking her head into my chest, she hugs me tight and all I want to do is squeeze the shit out of her and tell her that I'm fucking in love with her and maybe say some other sappy shit. Sadly though, I suck with words, plus she'd probably laugh her ass off if I got all Nicholas Sparks on her.

On the other hand, she has to know, right? It has to be obvious that I'm crazy about her. Only a man head over heels in love with someone would open themselves up to some of the questionable shit I do to make her happy. Like watching Outlander. Or pretty much any show on Bravo. Or listening to any song from this decade and downloading it onto my iPod.

Not that I'm whipped by any means, but it's pretty clear I'll do almost anything for this girl, even things that occasionally make me want to reach down and grab my nuts just to make sure they're still there.

I wrap my arm around her and lean down to kiss the top of her head. "I missed you today."

"Oh yeah?" She looks up at me. "Well by the end of the week you'll be sick of me."

Never. My fingers slip lower, grabbing a quick handful of ass and patting it softly. "Not gonna happen."

"So you're not going to believe where I've been tonight," she says, taking my hand and leading me toward the hybrid grow area.

"Where's that?"

"Ring shopping with Emmett."

"Wait, what?"

"I know, right? He totally sprung it on me at lunch today. One minute he's all bon voyage, telling me to have fun in Amsterdam this week, the next he's like P.S., I'm asking Rose to marry me and I'll probably be moving out in January."

"Wow."

"That's what I said."

"Are you … okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm happy for them although I'm not super pumped about having to deal with the nightmare of moving, but what can you do?" She shrugs. "So anyway, I've spent a good three hours today looking at rings and talking him out of proposing to her on a Jumbotron."

"Stop."

"I'm serious, Edward. If he was left to his own devices, that poor girl would have a diamond encrusted gold E for a ring and he'd probably ask her by spelling out 'marry me' with dumbbells."

I make a mental note to scratch any future proposal ideas that include a Jumbotron or weight lifting equipment. And stuffed animals. Bella hates stuffed animals.

"So what do you think he should do then?"

"I don't know, I just think it should be about them, not a spectacle, you know?"

No, I don't elaborate so when I finally get the balls to tell you that I love you, you'll think it's perfect. "You're not a spectacle kind of girl?"

"Please," she rolls her eyes, "I've made a spectacle of myself plenty of times. I just think that grand gestures are grander when they're sincere."

You speak in riddles, woman.

"The words shouldn't be rehearsed; I think it should be just kind of in the moment, you know what I mean?"

In the moment, got it. "Are you bummed about him moving out?"

"A little, I guess. It'll be weird not living with him, but I don't think I'll be drinking myself into a stupor and listening to Adele songs since I'll still see him all the time."

"True."

"I just feel like I need to give Rose a tutorial on what to expect."

"I'm sure she knows."

"I'm sure she thinks she knows, but she has no idea. I shaved his back two weeks ago for the love of all things holy. I don't think he's let that fun little fact slip yet."

I cringe. "Probably not."

She gets quiet for a moment, watching me carefully as I adjust some of the grow lights. "Have you ever …" she trails off and wiggles her ring finger at me.

"Been married? No."

"Engaged?"

"Nope. But I did live with one of my exes for about a year before we split."

"Oh," she murmurs so softly I barely catch it then looks away quickly. "You guys must have been pretty serious then?"

Loaded question. Tread lightly. "At the time I thought so, but now, not so much. We dated our junior and senior year of college then moved in together after graduation."

"That's a long time."

"Eh, we were high for most of it."

"So what happened?"

Kate became a psycho hose beast who gave me a marriage ultimatum. "We just wanted very different things." That sounds much nicer.

"Such as?"

"She became ambitious, I guess. Saw all of her friends getting engaged and marrying guys with nine-to-five jobs and moving to the suburbs. Wanted that for herself, I suppose."

"And you're not about that life?"

"Wasn't at the time, no. I was pretty content just growing and smoking bud all day, every day."

She hums instead of commenting, distracting herself by checking on a recent batch of transplants.

"What about you?"

"What? Engaged?" She snorts. "Not even close."

"No serious boyfriends?"

"I suppose if you count my senior year of high school with a small town hell-raiser and my two year stint in college with a philosophy major."

"Only two?"

"Three if you count this hot thing I have going with a Master Grower."

Rolling my eyes, I go back to checking my plants. "He sounds awesome."

I turn the corner and hear her talking to the Cotton Candy Kush plants, calling them her lovelies and attempting to sing them a song from the Hamilton soundtrack. Fun fact, Bella's rapping skills are considerably worse than Esme's singing skills. It's adorably bad.

Getting back to work, I double and triple check the soil and the lights over the E.C. Kush. I underline my instructions for the Cultivation Supervisor, then set a reminder on my phone to follow-up to make sure it's done exactly this way. My pen taps on the clipboard incessantly, surveying the grow area just in case there's something I'm forgetting to do before I go.

"Hey," Bella whispers from behind me, wrapping her arm around my middle and scaring the shit out of me.

"Jesus!"

"You didn't hear me calling you?"

"Sorry, I was –"

"Worrying?"

Maybe. "Focusing." Walking away, she mumbles something I don't catch. "What was that?"

She leans back on the work table, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smile. "I said you're in E.C. mode."

"E.C. mode?"

She nods and pulls down the hood of her suit which makes me want to scream 'NOOOOO' with her proximity to my plants, but then her hair spills around her shoulders and she's just too fucking gorgeous to yell at like a complete psychopath. "You're all business. Tight and tense."

"And?"

"Sometimes I think," her fingers move to her zipper, "that maybe E.C. needs to relax a little." My eyes follow the zipper tab as she drags it down her body, ogling every inch of skin and satin she reveals. "Cut loose every now and again."

"Bella," I warn, watching the suit hit the floor.

With a wink, she reaches back to take off her bra. "E.C."

"We shouldn't—"

The bra falls at my feet. "Shouldn't what?" she asks smirking as she slides back onto the work table with her hand trailing down her stomach and dipping beneath the waistband of her underwear.

Gripping the clipboard tight, I blow out a deep breath and take this moment in because so long as I live, I'm certain that there will never be a more beautiful sight than Bella Swan naked and spread beneath my grow lights, surrounded by a purple sea of E.C. Kush.

Running her teeth over her bottom lip, she tilts her head. "Come here."

I'm in front of her in an instant and the clipboard clatters to the floor forgotten as she rips my zipper down my body. Her mouth covers mine, kissing me hard while I pull the skimpy white fabric over and slide my fingers inside of her.

"E.C.," she breathes my name again, digging her nails into my skin and wrapping her legs around me.

When she bites down on my neck I lose it, shoving my boxers down and slamming into her. The table creaks and shifts beneath us as we move faster and faster and her hands slip lower to pull me in deeper. She eggs me on, nipping at my ear lobe and moaning words into my neck that are too dirty to come from such a pretty mouth. I come hard, roaring out a 'fuck' that echoes throughout the greenhouse and collapsing on top of her.

Panting, I look up at my girl and her lazy smile matches mine. She lifts her hand and gently runs her fingers through my hair. "There's my Edward."

Fuck, I love this girl.

According to Carlisle, traveling together is the true test of a couple's ability to go the distance. If that's the case then Bella and I are golden since we've managed to survive three hours in line at airport security, twelve hours in the air, and two horrible in-flight movies without wanting to kill each other.

The jet lag is brutal though, so we spend our first ten hours in Amsterdam in bed and not in the fun way. Bella isn't much of a morning person, here or in the states. I've learned over the past few months that her ideal morning consists of silence, scones, coffee, and reading the 'news' on her phone. I use the term news loosely because I suspect it includes People Magazine and Gossip Cop, but that's none of my business.

"How close is the nearest Starbucks?" she asks, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes as we exit the hotel.

"No clue."

Sighing, she points across the street. "That coffeeshop will have to do."

"Uh, no." I shake my head. "You can't score any coffee there."

Her brow lifts slightly. "M'kay."

"Coffee shop, two words, you can get your fix. Coffeeshop, all one word is where I get my fix."

"Pot shop?"

"You got it. Lucky you, I know a place that sells both."

"Sounds good." She high fives me then slaps my butt. "I'll wake, you bake."

Hand in hand, we walk the streets along the canal with her listing off all the tourist spots she wants to see while I calculate their proximity to my favorite coffeeshops. "Here we are," I say as we approach the brightly painted building.

"The Green House?" She lifts her glasses and places them on the top of her head, eyeing me skeptically. "Is the coffee even any good here?"

"I have no idea, but the Jack Herer is excellent."

"Jack Herer?"

I nod, opening the door. "One of the best strains out there. Also one of the most awarded."

"A fellow Cup winner?"

"I'm not a Cup winner."

Reaching up, she holds my face in her hands. "But you will be."

"And if I don't win?"

She kisses my lips. "Then we come back and go for it again next year."

"You think you're still going to like me a year from now?"

Her eyes narrow and she smirks at me turning her words around on her. "I'm going to like you forever, Edward Cullen."

Now this is a moment.

I open my mouth to say the words when a couple of backpackers barge through, bumping Bella with their gear and apologizing profusely in French.

And the moment is gone.

Twenty minutes later, Bella and I are sitting along the canal. Her, sipping her coffee and waving to the boats as they pass, while I roll my first Saturday Night Special of the week.

"Okay, so I was thinking we could do a walking tour today," Bella says, her voice sounding hopeful.

"Sure."

"Or maybe a canal tour in one of the open air boats."

"Whatever you want."

"Really?"

"Sure."

"What about a bike tour?"

"Let's not get nuts."

She smacks my arm then goes back to her list. "Tomorrow we'll do the Van Gogh Museum and maybe the Rembrandt House Museum. What about the Heineken Experience?"

I shrug. "I think you get beer on the tour."

Bella scrawls a checkmark on her travel guide. "Then that's a definite yes. What time do Carlisle and Esme get in tomorrow?"

"Two I think."

"Are we doing dinner?"

"Playing it by ear."

"So we have today and tomorrow alone before you have to get to work?"

"Pretty much." I drag my tongue over the paper and seal it up tight. "You girls have plans for when we're at the Expo?"

She shifts in her seat and tries hard not to smile. "We've kicked around a few ideas."

Something about the way she says it makes me think we'll need bail money. I tilt my head and spark it up, hearing that paper burn. My eyes close as I pull and goddamn, man, that first hit is like no other.

"Having a moment over there?"

I open one eye and nod, holding it in a moment longer before exhaling in the opposite direction. "You should try it."

"Pass." She crawls into my lap and raises her phone to snap a shot of us. "Now act like you like me."

I swear I hear about forty-five clicks over the next three minutes so there has to be one decent shot. She stays on my lap as we go through them. They're all good in my opinion, but she's ridiculously hard on herself and picks each one apart.

"That's a good one." I point at the one of us cheek to cheek and smiling.

"No. My eye looks wonky."

"What about that one?"

Her lips twist like she's considering the one of her smiling and me kissing her temple. "It's okay, but there's a weird piece of hair on my forehead."

She flips through about ten more before I tap my finger on her screen. "I like that one. You look beautiful."

She smiles. "But you're not even looking at the camera."

I shrug. "I'm looking at you."

Her cheeks redden and she mutters something quietly as she posts the pic.

"What was that?"

Her eyes don't leave her phone. "I said that I love the way you look at me."

I lift her chin with my finger and her gaze meets mine. "I—"

"Excuse me," some asshole wearing a Kiss Me I'm High-rish sweatshirt interrupts my declaration of love. "You guys mind if I steal this seat?"

I scowl at him. He's lucky my girl's a sweetheart. "Sure thing."

Smiling stupidly, he sits down and chats us up as he lights his pre-rolled doobie. Pussy. "You guys here for the Cup?"

She nods and rubs my chest. "We are. My boyfriend's an entrant."

"Aw, no shit?"

Bella laughs. "No shit."

"Well what's the strain name so I can at least check it out?"

"E.C. Kush."

"E.C. Kush," he repeats looking all puzzled. "Never heard of it."

She hands him a THC business card and smiles. "You will soon."

Thankfully the dude takes the hint and leaves us alone. I lean in and murmur a 'thank you' against her cheek.

"For what?"

"For the free publicity."

"Nothing's free, Cullen." She stands and holds her hand out for me to take. "Time to pay up."

"Of course."

"And it's gonna cost you. You're gonna have to romance the shit out of me all over this city."

I kiss her hand. "You got it."

"We'll start with the walking tour, but then we're eating at the restaurant I saw on the way here that's made entirely of vending machines. It looks life changing."

She twirls and tucks herself into my side and I squeeze her tight. "Whatever you want, beautiful."

Friday morning, Carlisle and I roll-up on the Expo, dressed down and low-key. Initially, we planned to come in all guns blazing with sponsorships and a booth where we could pass out samples, but then Carlisle took another look at our business plan and one word jumped out at him.

Exclusivity.

With that one word, we reassessed everything. Sure, we could come in here like every ganjaprenuer out there right now, getting our name and our strain out there, but that's not necessarily going to increase the demand for our product. The smoke session definitely helped in creating a big buzz around the strain, and as painful as it is for me to admit, my brother was right about Seth. His favorable review is still drawing quite a bit of interest from customers and bloggers alike.

We're on a lot of people's radar at this point and Carlisle is banking that a Cup win will start a bit of a frenzy. He likens it to the hot toy at Christmas. The harder it is to get, the more they'll want it.

We lay low, attending the panels for growers and seed companies before visiting the vendor booths. Carlisle lets me do most of the talking, but I can tell he's sizing everyone up and taking notes on what they're doing, both right and wrong.

"I've just got one more booth I want to check out," Carlisle says, jerking his chin at some table full of edibles and concentrates. "Then we can meet the girls."

"Sounds good."

He barely has his back turned before I get my phone out to text Bella three words. Not the three words that I've been trying to say all week, but the sentiment is just as true.

I miss you.

She texts me right back. Miss you more.

Doubtful. My fingers move over the screen. What've you been up to today?

Her response comes in the form of pictures. The first is an image is of her and Es in front of The Anne Frank House. They both have tears streaming down their face and mascara smeared beneath their eyes.

Another picture immediately follows. This time the girls are on a bicycle, Laverne and Shirley style, smiling huge like they're having a blast. I fully expect the next image to be of them at some sort of emergency room since Bella was peddling, but it's not.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I mutter when the next one comes through of my girl with her tongue out, her hand making the rock out gesture beside Esme who's taking a hit from a two-story bong.

My phone beeps again. This time it's a picture of the girls drinking beers in one of the city's distilleries.

I don't miss all the empty glasses near them on the bar.

You girls have been busy. Where are you now?

"All right. Let's head out," Carlisle says from behind me just as Bella's response appears on the screen.

I don't know, but Esme just shelled out 150 Euros for something called a banana show.

I look at my brother. "Ever heard of a banana show?"

"Uh yeah." His words come out with a bit of a chuckle. "The Banananenbar's famous for some pretty lewd shit."

"Yeah, well your wife's got my girl watching that lewd shit."

He just laughs. "I doubt that was Esme's idea."

Twenty minutes later, we're paying the cover charge and making our way through the tourist trap. The bar is pretty much what I expected – seedy chic with cheesy music and lots of flesh to ogle. I hear the girls before I see them, clapping and whistling at the strippers dancing for them.

"Carlisle!" Esme shouts when she spots us and waves us over. "Come see the banana show!"

A large group of rowdy guys erupts beside me, cheering on the guy whose face is being pressed into a stripper's cleavage. My brother grins and takes out his wallet. "I'll have what he's having."

I fully expect my sister-in-law to slap him in the mouth, but instead she grabs his ears and pulls his head to her chest.

Bella jumps out of her seat and into my arms, peppering me with vodka screwdriver flavored kisses before looking back to the dancers squatting in front of her and Esme. "This is my boyfriend."

Two of the ladies wave while the other blows me a kiss and asks me if I want a banana show. I turn to Bella. "What's a banana show?"

The place is loud so I can barely make out what she's saying over the group of guys and the porn music. The parts I do catch sound a little questionable. "… huge dildo … in and out … launched it from her vag … almost hit the guy behind us … put a banana in a condom … made love to it … then the guy ate it."

"Yeah. No," I say firmly. "I don't think I'd ever be able to unsee that shit."

She pouts. "Fine."

My brother slaps some money down on the stage and I see one of the girls produce a banana seemingly out of thin air. "We're gonna take off."

Neither Carlisle nor Esme spare us a glance because their eyes are fixed on the banana being peeled.

"Bye dolls!" Bella yells and blows kisses at the dancers.

"Bye Bella," the three girls reply in unison.

Bella points to the tall blond with the huge rack. "Heidi, I'm gonna have Jenks email you. You're gonna love him." I look at her like she's nuts. "What? I think she's his type."

It takes me a full five minutes to pull Bella away from her new friends. Once we hit the street she presses herself into my side. "What's next?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean where are we going? Ooh!" She points to a neon sign. "Let's see a peep show."

"Pass."

"Come on, man. It's the last peep show in Amsterdam. We've gotta do it. It's like … nostalgic or something." I shake my head and she tugs on the hem of my shirt. "Why not? It'll be fun."

"Being in a confined space, ankle deep in tourist semen hardly sounds fun to me."

"Well yeah, when you put it that way, I guess it doesn't." Just when I think I've successfully redirected her, she stops in her tracks with her eyes pinned to a building across the street. "We're totally doing that."

"Doing what?"

She yanks my arm and practically drags me behind her. "We're seeing a sex show."

Almost a half an hour later, Bella and I are seated in the front row of the theater and served our drinks. We're surrounded by stag parties and old dudes in loose fitting clothing, just the kind of folks you'd expect to see watching this kind of thing. But then there's my girl, cheering when the lights go down for the frizzy-haired woman sauntering around the stage, removing her clothing as she goes. I'm lulled into a false sense of comfort watching her climb onto a bed and strike a few poses. As I relax into my seat, I think to myself that this isn't so bad. But then she lights up a cigarette and spreads her legs to smoke it.

With her vagina.

I sneak a peek at my girl and she's over there all wide-eyed and slack jawed, unabashedly staring at the Virginia-Slim-sucking-vag. "That's just impressive."

She's nuts. "If this is the opening number, I'm going to need to start drinking."

The act is mercifully short, but as quickly as the curtain closes, it opens again. The DJ tells us to make some noise for the couple making their way to a circular bed in the center of the stage. Both the man and woman are tanned and oiled, like they were slathered with grease. They've gotta be in their late forties – way too old to be wearing sequined g-strings and aviators.

He lays her down on the bed and pulls the fabric down her legs and holds it up like it's some kind of trophy. A techno beat fades in, thumping steady and slow while he gyrates and drags his sparkly banana hammock to the floor. I slam my beer, trying to not make direct eye contact with the dick and balls helicoptering about five feet away from me.

Bella's beside me bouncing and clapping to the beat, smiling excitedly like she's seeing Shamu or something and not some oily bohunk getting ready to mount a chick. When I look back to the stage, the couple is in the sixty-nine position, exaggeratedly sucking and licking in time with the music. This goes on for way too long, getting faster and faster as the tempo builds.

When the beat drops, he swings around like he's on a pommel horse and spreads her wide by her ankles. The circular bed begins to spin and the DJ starts up another song. This one's loud and the bass is so heavy you can feel it. It's distracting, but sadly not enough so that I miss the guy pushing inside and humping to the music.

"This is insane," I whisper to Bella when the guy flips the woman over while he's still inside of her, like a rotisserie chicken and hits it from the back.

"I know, right?" she says without taking her eyes from the stage. "We're totally trying this when we get home."

I laugh, but she's serious.

"Download this song to your iPod."

We stay for the rest of the show, shockingly, since each act became steadily more bizarre than the last. When Bella and I finally get back to the hotel, there is no attempt at synchronized fucking because my girl is too busy tossing her cookies.

"It must be something I ate," she surmises, wiping the puke off her chin while I hold her hair.

"Could be. What'd you eat?"

"Raw herring."

"Maybe." But my money's on the Dutch Gin. "Let me get you some water."

I run to the mini-fridge and grab a bottle, hearing her dry heaving the entire time. When I get back in the bathroom she's hugging the toilet all teary-eyed. "Don't look at me, I'm disgusting."

"You're gorgeous." Even with a string of drool hanging from your lip.

I pull her hair up and rub her back while she takes a drink. "You're like," she pauses and hiccups, "so good to me and so there for me and I'm just this walking, talking nightmare."

"Stop."

"No for real, you're just amazing and I think I'm in lo—"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence because she's too busy retching violently. Although I'm pretty sure I know what her next words may have been and as much as I want to tell her that I feel the same, I don't want to do it kneeling beside a bowlful of vomit.

Bella sleeps in most of the following day, only waking to shoo me away when I offer to stay with her. Carlisle and I head out to a few of the coffeeshop parties and have lunch with Demetri and Jenks. We bullshit a bit and toast Jake who's stuck back at home, moving his stuff out of his place with Leah. Or what's left of his stuff I should say. Ol' girl took a bat to his electronics and some bleach to his clothes. That's what he gets for putting a ring on a psycho.

When I get back to the hotel, Bella's singing in the shower, off-key as per usual. I flop on the bed and cover my eyes, pushing thoughts of tonight's award presentation from my mind. A few years and countless hours of work have led up to this and I know it's sick that a small piece of metal would even remotely be a source of validation for me, but it is. I want it so badly that even the possibility of not getting it makes me nauseous.

Bella's phone goes off on the nightstand and it sounds like someone wants to FaceTime. I'm guessing it's Emmett with news of his engagement.

"Babe, someone's trying to FaceTime you."

"Grab it for me, I'll be right out."

I pick up the phone and see the name on the screen. This could either be a good thing or a bad thing.

Ang would like to FaceTime.

Ang. I can't tell if she's completely sold on me yet. She's nice enough though. Always warm and welcoming, but I think there's a part of her that's convinced I'm trying to corrupt her kid sister or something.

I accept the call and smile when I see Riley pop up on the screen sitting at his kitchen table with bed head and a bathrobe on. "What's up, Ri?"

"Hello, Mr. Edward."

"You can call me Edward, buddy."

He shakes his head. "Mommy says you're a gardener and I call our gardener Mr. Jared because I'm polite."

A gardner? Ang's face appears behind him, mouthing a 'sorry' with a sheepish grin.

"We're calling to wish you good luck at your gardening party today," he continues as his mom places his breakfast in front of him. "Aunt Bella says your flowers are the best."

Your Aunt Bella's the best. "Thanks Ri. How's your baby brother?"

"He's good, but he spit-up on Mommy's face yesterday." He leans in and whispers. "She called him the f-word."

"She did?" Bella slips in beside me and waves at her nephew. "The one that rhymes with truck?"

He nods. "Rhymes with trucker."

"Did you put her in time out?"

Ang appears in the screen, quirking her brow at my girl then grabbing the phone from Ri. "How's Amsterdam, lovebirds?"

We smile at each other, but Bella answers for both of us. "The best. What's going on there?"

"Not much. I talked to Mom and Dad today. They're coming for Christmas." She scrunches her nose. "And I think Dad got an earring."

Bella makes a face."Ew. That's so weird."

"They're excited to meet Edward though."

As if my nerves weren't already shot. "Can't wait."

"They're going to love you," Bella promises and bumps my shoulder with hers before turning back to the screen. "We've gotta go though, Ang."

"Boo."

My girl winks at me. "This cup isn't gonna win itself."

"Ugh, this is ridiculous," Carlisle grumbles as we listen to one of the winners accept his prize, droning on and on.

"You want me to pull a Kanye on him?" Bella asks with a straight face. "Go up there like 'Imma let you finish, but E.C. Kush is the best strain of all time.'"

"No," I say over my brother's excited yes.

"All right now." Jenks rubs his hands together when the emcee announces our category is next. "Here we go."

A long-time marijuana activist is welcomed to the stage and he strolls up, sucking on a fat blunt and feeding off the applause from the crowd. He stands up there and bullshits for a bit, talking about the industry and the importance of fighting for our right to smoke up.

Meanwhile, I'm over here mentally trying to figure out our odds against the other thirty entrants in our category. My eyes move to the powerhouse seed companies, the ones who have won more Cups than anyone else. They're all huddled together like pageant contestants, holding hands with their heads down and their eyes closed. I look at my brother and he's the fucking picture of calm with his shoulders back and his hands in his pockets.

Bella rubs soothing circles on my back as the man opens the first envelope to announce the third place winner. I hold my breath and blow it out the minute one of the seed companies goes wild in celebration over their victory.

"All right, now," Jenks says, clapping a few times before massaging my shoulders. "One of these is ours."

After several minutes, the crowd quiets as the second envelope is opened. The guy with the blunt pauses and squints to read the name. I glance down at Bella and she gazes back at me, squeezing my hand reassuringly. Looking in her eyes, I know it's a moment for sure, but this time there's a welcome interruption.

"Second place for best hybrid goes to E.C. Kush from The Healing Collective!"

Bella launches herself into my arms, wrapping her whole body around me tight and kissing the shit out of me. I can hear our group going nuts around me, but the only thing I can focus on is the look on my girl's face when she tells me she's proud of me.

"Bella, I …" I lick my lips and try to make the words I want to say come out the way I want to say them. Because she needs to know that she's better than any strain I could grow, any hit I've ever taken or high I've ever felt. She's better than any good thing that's ever happened to me and that includes the Cup. "I—"

"E.C. Kush motherfuckers!" Jenks shouts, pointing out to the masses. "I told y'all we were comin' for you."

Bella jumps down, so I can follow my brother to the stage. He jogs up like a Price Is Right contestant to claim the prize. The reigning Miss Cannabis hands him the trophy which he holds over his head, then points to me.

"This is all you," he says, slapping me on the back and placing the Cannabis Cup in my hands.

I take the moment in and look out over the crowd. Jenks is kissing the top of Demetri's bald head and rubbing it for good luck, while Bella and Esme are hugging and jumping and possibly crying in each other's arms. My girl beams up at me, looking all starry-eyed and I just know that I can't let this moment pass. So I mouth the words I've been dying to say and the smile that spreads over her face is fucking breathtaking.

She's right there as I exit the stage and hops back into my arms, crushing her lips to mine. I pull back slightly and brush my thumb across her cheek, needing to say the words so she can hear them. So she can truly know. "I love you."

"Edward," she sighs.

"More than anything."

"I love you, too." She presses her forehead to mine. "More than anything."

A/N: Super sorry about going MIA, pals. Just one more chapter to go – hopefully it will come easier than this one did and will require less questionable browser searches. Truly, as I walk away from this chapter, I'm certain of two things. One – there is some shit I've seen while researching Amsterdam that can never be unseen. And two – God as my witness, I'm going to get over there someday to see them in person. *Carrie ZM's eyes go wide*

Sadly, RL has kept us both super busy and we've been regrettably slacking on the WIPing front. So sound-off, fandom - what WIP is owning you these days?

Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed, fav'd, rec'd, tweeted or lurked this fic!