Yeah, because I'm one of those stupid people who waits until the last minute to do everything, I just finished a paper, because I was caught up writing fanfiction and then i realized haha its one thirty and i still need to finish my paper...

So here it is, the fruits of my procrastination.

Don't own.

Ch. 5: Pinch Me

"Did you seriously not check the weather before you decided to bring me on this shopping extravaganza?" I whined, as we stepped out of the coat shop.

It was dark, and the snow was falling heavier now, stopping traffic and causing mass chaos. At this rate, it'd take hours to get home.

We hadn't bought much. Or rather, he hadn't.

We picked up my new phone, some gloves for me, and special ordered a new jacket for me—he insisted. I told him no, but he wouldn't listen.

You know, selective listening, something everyone had, but with him it was seriously every other sentence.

"It's just snow." He rolled his eyes at me, as I huddled into myself against the wind.

"Just snow? Were you listening in there, these are whiteout conditions! And we're still outside!" I snapped, getting grumpier and grumpier by the second.

"If I get you hot chocolate, will you shut up?" he grumbled as we continued walking.

"No!"

He sighed, as we stopped at the corner to cross the street. I looked around, and realized that I had no idea where we were going. My mother's house was the opposite direction.

Ugh, whatever. He knew where he was going. Maybe we had another shop to go to.

I followed him blindly, getting colder and wetter by the second. I was fairly certain my pants were frozen to my legs, but couldn't be sure. I couldn't really feel much of anything anymore.

"Edward?" I asked, tugging on his sleeve. Throughout this joyous occasion, I'd taken to calling him Edward and he'd started calling me Bella. It was just easier than Mr. Cullen or Miss Swan.

"What is it now." He snapped, turning to face me. I'd been following behind him, trying to keep up with his inhuman pace.

I called it the Disney Walk. My mother had taken me to Disney World when I was younger, probably nine or ten, and I'd had to run to keep up with her walk. You see, her philosophy was 'hurry up, so we can wait in line for another two hours'.

That was the most tiring vacation of my life, I think.

So yeah. Edward was channeling my mother's Disney Walk, trudging through the snow, no less.

I didn't have boots, and was soaked through.

At least, my pants were.

They were cold and wet, and I couldn't feel my toes, and the gloves only helped a little bit, and the wind was going right through my coat and chilling me to the bone…

Edward must have seen this, when he turned around to face me.

I hadn't noticed that my teeth were chattering, or that I was shivering uncontrollably. I was just focusing on keeping up with him.

And there was an inch of snow on the ground. Not a good thing, at five o'clock rush hour traffic, which is why we were walking. We moved faster on foot.

"Oh my god." He said, a bit surprised, a bit worried, and a bit exasperated. "Bella, your lips are blue. Why didn't you tell me you were that cold?"

"I…where…where are we g-g-going?" I chattered, the cold shaking my bones.

"Here." He said, removing his own coat and draping it over my shoulders, over my coat. Currently he was just in a white collared shirt and tie.

"Edward-d-d n-n-no…" I squeaked, horrified. It was so cold…

I couldn't even think. My brain had shut off, and I didn't have the will to protest. I was so cold…I could hardly move.

"My apartment is a block away." He said, and I think he placed his hand on my back to guide me through the snow. I couldn't be sure, I couldn't feel much of anything at that point.

"But…but my mother…" I started, looking up at him through the snowflakes. I blinked, as they kept alighting on my eyelashes.

"You need to get warm, first. Then we'll call her, okay?"

He was treating me like a child.

Where I hated when people took pity on me, I hated even more when they treated me like a child.

I glared at him, though he wasn't looking and didn't see it. Oh, he'd catch it later.

Jerk.

Though, it was a surprisingly gentlemanly thing to do, in giving me his jacket. I should be grateful, he was actually being human right now…

What the hell was going on? Twenty four hours ago he threatened to fire me, then he actually began to care. He'd ordered me a new coat, gotten me gloves, gotten me a cell phone, given me his jacket when it was probably ten degrees out…and snowing, and windy…

Why was he being nice?

No, this wasn't nice, this was downright chivalrous. I was floored. Men these days didn't know the meaning of the word.

Pinch me, I'm dreaming.

But this…

Ugh. Screw it. It was hurting my brain, trying to figure him out.

Stupid man.

I felt like a child, I felt naïve, like he knew something that I didn't. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but there was something lurking…

Ah. Screw it. I'll figure it out later…

I hardly remembered the rest of the walk to his apartment. I couldn't think, I couldn't feel my feet…the only thing I was conscious of was that he was there, pulling me, practically dragging me along.

I'd snuck a glance up at him as we were walking, and noticed that he had a sort of ferocity in his eyes, but not an angry one. A determined ferocity, and some worry, as he looked ahead.

He was shivering by the time we got to his apartment, a nice studio flat, where he had two floors all to himself.

He immediately cranked up the heat upon entering, and turned on a few lights. I stood numbly in the doorway after he'd shut it, as he hit the gas start to the fireplace.

I was still shivering, everything in my vision trembling as my whole body shook pretty violently. I'd never been so cold in my whole life.

Wordlessly, he led me to the fireplace and got several blankets, removing both his and my soaked jackets and starting to take off my shoes and socks.

"I don't know how you managed to avoid frostbite." He mused, examining my bare feet. I was still shivering, but could feel myself slowly warming up, as I'd taken one of the blankets and was cuddled up in it, staring at him with wide eyes. He stood, starting to remove his shirt as he walked out of the room, saying "I'm going to get you dry clothes, and you need to change."

I didn't really hear him, and found myself staring at his body as he left the room, completely unaware. He was a guy, and guys walked around shirtless all the time, so why should he hide himself?

He probably did it to flaunt his perfectly chiseled muscles. Oh my God, it was like he stepped out of a Roman statue. He was perfect. He was beautiful.

He was my boss.

Oh my God, I'm drooling over my boss!

How on earth had I managed to make it into my boss's apartment? I was sitting on his floor, wrapped in his blankets, in front of his fireplace, and he was going to get me some of his clothes to change into…

How did this happen? Hadn't we just gone out for a phone? If that wasn't a strange enough thing in the first place, this was just ridiculous.

I'm sure he was only being nice to me because I was so helpless, at that point.

I mean, I was shivering, I was cold, I was wet and miserable…who can really be an asshole to that? Even jerkface over there had to have some ounce of humanity, which is why he was being so nice.

That was it. It had to be.

That, and the fact that all of this was his fault. Yeah, that might be part of it too, he was guilty for damn near giving me hypothermia.

He better be guilty! I could hardly feel my face, after five minutes of sitting in front of the roaring and crackling fire!

Great. Now I'd have to deal with his attitude all night. He'd be back to his normal self once I wasn't so pathetic…

Ooh look! I can feel my toes!

Wait.

All night…oh crap.

My heart skipped a beat for some reason, as the thought crossed my mind.

Stop it, heart! He's still a jerk, even if he was oddly gentlemanly today.

And he's still your boss…

He returned with an armful of clothes, and saw that I hadn't moved from my spot. I hadn't even shifted position, save for my constant wiggling of my toes. I could feel them now! How wonderful!

"Are you alright?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at me. I'm sure it must have been odd, just watching me sit there with a blanket on, frantically wiggling my toes with a blank expression on my face.

Hell, I looked like a crazy person.

"Yeah." I said, trying to force a smile. "I can feel my toes now."

"I can see that." He said dryly. "You need to change. You don't want to catch cold, your clothes are still wet."

I nodded, and he pulled me up to standing, as I tried a few times and failed. My legs were stiff, in the position they were in.

"Are you going to turn around this time?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow back at him as he handed me the pile of clothes.

Wordlessly, he obeyed, and turned his back on me as I sorted through the pile and put on too-large black sweatpants and a long sleeved gray tee shirt with one word screenprinted on the front: Yale.

Stupid pretty boy went to Yale.

For some reason, Ivy League schools disgusted me. Maybe it was all the people who went there, the stereotype of people. Maybe it was the fact that tuition was more than my living costs for a year.

Maybe it was c. all of the above.

Whatever. It didn't really matter what the shirt had on it, it was warm. I wrapped myself up in the blanket again.

"You can turn around now." I said, sitting back down in front of the fireplace, this time with my knees drawn up to my chest, looking more like a mass of blankets with a head.

"You should call your mother, so she doesn't worry." He said, handing me the cordless receiver to his landline. "Tell her you'll be home in the morning."

I sighed, and nodded, dialing her number. She was going to looooove this!

She had to be waiting by the phone, she picked up so fast.

"Bella?" she answered, before I even said anything.

"Hi, Mom." I said, and could feel the relief wash over her, through the phone.

"Oh, thank God! Are you okay? Where are you?"

I had to hold the receiver a few inches away from my ear, she was speaking so loud. I didn't blame her, really, it was just a bit over the top.

"I'm fine, I'm at Edward's. We got caught in traffic, and it was easier to come here." I said, wearily. I tried to stifle a yawn, wondering why I was so tired all of a sudden. "He's letting me stay the night, I'll be home in the morning."

"WHAT!" She exploded, and I had to hold the phone even further away from my ear. "Isabella Marie Swan, you call a cab this instant! I forbid you to stay over at some strange man's place for the night—"

"Mom! Relax! It's okay—"

"Put him on the phone! Put him on the phone, Isabella!"

I sighed heavily, and looked over to where Edward was by a stereo system, no doubt trying not to look like he was eavesdropping.

"Mom, I'm going to be fine. Nothing's going to happen."

"Damn straight it's not, young lady! I'm taking you to the doctor on Monday so you can go on birth control! No daughter of mine is going to be having irresponsible—"

"Mother, I am not a slut and you know it. Who the hell do you think I am?" I snapped, taking the conversation a few steps away. I sighed heavily, as she continued freaking out. "I don't just give it away to random people on the streets, or anything!

"You know you can always say no, Bella!"

"Mother, will you listen to me for a minute? Edward and I are not dating. He is my boss, he is my superior, and neither of us have any sort of romantic intentions towards one another, okay?"

"I want to speak to him. Put him on the phone."

"No, that's completely superfluous."

"Isabella, put him on the goddamn phone!"

I sighed heavily, and looked over to where he stood still across the room, acting as if he were choosing a CD to play.

"She wants to talk to you." I said, handing him the phone.

Honestly, I don't know what compelled me to do that.

I shouldn't have, I should have just hung up, but I was kind of afraid of my mother. I'd never heard her freak out like that before, and I was afraid of her wrath.

She was eccentric enough when she was happy, I couldn't imagine the welcome I'd get the next morning if I didn't obey her.

"What for?"

"So you won't impregnate me." I said, this just slipping out. I probably should have worded it better, I probably shouldn't have handed him the phone to begin with, but I was sick and tired of my mother yelling at me over nothing.

It was stupid.

He gave a short chuckle, and spoke cordially into the phone, in probably the politest tone I'd ever heard, out of anyone. "Hello, this is Edward Cullen, you wished to speak to me?"

"Look here, Mr. Bag-a-bucks!" I heard her shrill voice, from four or five feet away. "Bella is a nice girl, and if you think that you can steal her virtue, treat her like the rest of those women, then—"

Oh God. Kill me now.

My mother didn't know when to shut up.

She was now telling my boss that I was still a virgin. Not that I wanted to be labeled as some loosy-goosie, but I didn't really want the details of my sex life broadcasted to the world…

…or to my boss, who I'd just met yesterday.

"I assure you, the relationship I have with your daughter is strictly professional. She is merely spending the night because of dangerous weather conditions…"

I crossed the room, not wanting to hear any more. I decided that the photographs on his wall were pretty damn interesting, and went far enough away that I couldn't hear her part of the conversation.

I think I'd just die if I did. Die of embarrassment.

This was awful.

"Yes, I understand that…I'll have her back to you by nine o' clock sharp, tomorrow. Goodnight." He said, and hung up.

"Is it over yet?" I said, turning around to face him with my fingers in my ears.

"Maybe I should have bought you a chastity belt, with an iron lock." He laughed, putting the phone back on its base.

"Ha, ha, laugh all you want." I rolled my eyes. The situation in itself would be funny, I knew, if it were happening to anybody else but me. "Do you have any food? I'm starving."

"TV dinners alright?" he said, as I followed him to the kitchen. "I don't spend a lot of time here…"

"Can you boil water?" I sighed, upon seeing the collection he had. His refrigerator was almost bare, it was a depressing sight. My mothers' was always full and overflowing.

"Who can't?"

"Then there's no excuse to have this many TV dinners." I said, sifting through them. I found a DiGiorno pizza, and turned on the oven. "You need to learn to cook. Let's make a deal. I'll teach you to cook, if you don't mention any part of this night to anybody, ever."

He smirked, watching me putter around his kitchen area, taking stock of his kitchen ware and supplies. I found uncooked penne, and checked the date on a jar of sauce, both seemingly forgotten in one of the cupboards.

I can't believe his food supply was this low. It was tragic, it was scary. Even in my dark ages, as I thought I should call them, I had been able to sneak meals here and there from either my mother's or from the hotel.

This was just disgraceful.

He had all the money in the world, and if you looked at his kitchen, you'd think he was in as much debt as I was.

"So are you waiting until marriage, or what?" he asked, and I knew it was just to push my buttons. I flushed, as I heated the sauce and added some herbs I'd found on a forgotten spice rack.

"Can we please talk about something else?" I asked, embarrassed. Jerk. I knew he was enjoying every second of this.

"Like what? Paper, ink? There's not really much interesting at the newspaper."

"Anything but my personal life?"

"Why are you embarrassed?" he asked, leaning against the counter, by the refrigerator. "It's not a bad thing, or anything like that."

"I know that, but that doesn't mean we have to talk about it!" I exclaimed, more and more blood rushing to my cheeks.

This was going to be a loooong night.

He chuckled, relishing in my reaction. Jerk.

"Well what about you? Where's your supermodel, super-rich girlfriend, to keep you warm on such a cold, lonely night." I said mockingly, theatrically.

"I don't have one." He said simply, not really caring.

"Scare them all away with your superiority complex?" I said, more words that just spilled out of my mouth.

Great.

Now I'd moved to insulting my boss, when he was showing me the kindness of letting me crash at his place for the night.

He remained silent, and I was too afraid to turn around.

"How old are you, Miss Swan?" he said eventually, his tone businesslike. I winced. Yeah, I was definitely going to get it, now…

"Twenty-two."

"Kind of young, don't you think, to be a psychologist and a journalist at the same time."

I didn't have anything to say to that.

I knew I was wrong, but I didn't want to apologize. I hated apologies, and I hadn't apologized to anybody for quite some time now.

"What can I say, I have many hidden talents." I shrugged eventually.

"Apparently, proper etiquette isn't one of them."

"Not everyone was born with a silver pacifier in their mouth." I shot back, carrying the cooked pasta over to the sink and draining it through a colander. "Though it doesn't matter, does it, where we come from, because somehow you have everything and you're still miserable! And stuck up, and condescending, no, nobody's better then you, the great Edward Cullen. God, just take the stick out of your ass, will you?"

"You know, I could have fired you yesterday, just for showing up to work late and in your pajamas." He said, stepping up to me and towering over me, extremely close.

I backed up into the counter, stuck. My heart was pounding in my chest, ready to break through my ribcage.

He was really freaking me out. What was he thinking? The word intimidating didn't even come close to describing him right now.

"But I didn't. I could have fired all of those talentless people you have employed there. I could have closed down the paper and reopened it with everything new. But I didn't. Do you know why?" He continued, backing down and standing by the counter, his back to me.

"Can't say that I do." I said, trying to conceal my fear.

This guy was seriously PMSing, with all the crazy mood swings.

I could take the sarcasm, I could take him laughing at me, but the psycho anger thing…that didn't really fly with me.

"It's why I agreed to even take this position, why I bothered giving your sorry ass a second chance. I saw one common thing in you, your workers, and the writing. Care to guess, use that brain I think you might have?"

"Because we all suck so bad it's kind of funny?" I said, extremely nervous.

I had to force myself to keep up a glare at his gorgeous green eyes, and even then I knew it was half-hearted. I could get lost in them, I think.

"I'll let you sit on that one for a while." He said, turning away from me again and taking the pizza out of the oven.

I stood there for a moment, confused and stunned. He added sauce to the pasta, and served it in two bowls, one for him, one for me, bringing them both and the pizza to the living room, placing them on the coffee table.

"Are you eating, or what?"

What did you think? I enjoyed writing that immensely. I love awkwardness and embarrassing situations... You people rock, by the way. But now I need to get some sleep.

Ah, Fanfiction…my favorite procrastination technique..

OH: one reviewer asked if I'd be writing a few chaps in Edward POV and I'm still on the fence. Poll? Who wants it? XOXO--the nerd.