Author's note: Thank you again for all of your kind reviews! I do apologize for being late in this update. There was a relatively minor crisis at work that blossomed into a bigger one and resulted in the overall upheaval of my entire weekend.

Perhaps you'll start to see the beginnings of a plot here. Because, you know, it can't be a true Twilight-saga-esque story without there being danger and etc.

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We were somewhere in the third movement of the first half when I became aware again of Edward's keen gold eyes studying my face.

I fought that heated blush as I felt him lightly trace down the side of my face, lovingly tucking a lock of brown hair behind my ear. My breathing quickened.

Edward smiled radiantly at me, his voice an eager whisper. "I've got an idea. Would you care to explore the Orpheum a bit with me?"

"Love to," I said, slipping my hand in his. "Lead the way."

He ushered me out and away, a mischievous look lighting his handsome features. Slightly muffled, but still, rich, harmonies echoed through the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

He awarded me a look of superior planning, smug in that way of his. "You'll see."

My pulse picked up in excitement.

That's when he opened the door to a…storage closet.

My eyes narrowed. "A closet, Edward?"

He arched his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware you had a bias against storage closets, Bella."

"I –"

"Get in." His tone was no-nonsense.

I marched in, putting my hands on my hips as I swung around to face him. He shut the door, plunging us into utter darkness, before he clicked the light on.

I surveyed our surroundings. OK, so it wasn't quite a storage closet. More like a storage room. It was bigger than a closet. But not by much.

"Well?"

He shook his head at me. "Oh, ye of little faith," he intoned. He raised one finger to his lips.

My brow furrowed in bewilderment. "What?"

"Shh," he insisted. "Don't you hear it?"

"Hear what?" I asked, exasperated.

He rolled his golden eyes toward the ceiling. "The lady is deaf."

"Am I supposed to be hearing something?" I questioned. "Because, all I hear is you, and me, and muffled music."

"Ah," his expression lit up, his eyes locking with mine. "The lady is not deaf, after all."

"I can hear you just fine," I confirmed, tucking that wayward lock of hair behind my ear again.

"I'll have you know, Bella, that storage closets, in addition to being used for storage, are quite useful for other things as well."

A slow smile spread across his face, and I couldn't help but let my lips stretch into a mirroring grin. "Oh," I said softly, understanding dawning.

He paced slowly towards me. His grin hung crookedly and he raked his tawny gaze up and down my body. I resisted the urge to shiver, though he was sending tingles down my spine.

He stopped a breath away, still grinning down at me with that slightly predatory gleam. My heart was in my throat. My knees felt weak already.

"Mmm," he sighed, inhaling deeply as he leaned down.

I licked my lips in anticipation. Our noses brushed, and I could feel his sweet breath fanning across my face.

"Not yet," he whispered. "Although, that would be one very good use for this storage closet."

My breathing was shallow. I forced myself to spit out as coherent of a sentence as possible. "What use did you have in mind, then?"

His large, cold hands rested gently on my hips, drawing me a little closer. His right hand gently took mine and placed it on his shoulder. His left hand skimmed up my side and down my arm to grip my hand. "Why, dancing, of course."

Suddenly, he pulled me off my feet and set me to stand on the tops of his shoes, and we were spinning in a perfect waltz to the orchestra's melody. I gasped, surprised at the sudden movement, and clutched closer to him.

He chuckled, a deep resonance in his chest, and I pressed my face into his neck. "You are…"

"Sneaky, I know," he confirmed.

"Incredible," I managed to say, my senses struggling on overload as I inhaled his perfect scent, felt the press of his perfect body against mine. My heart was hammering so loudly that I could barely hear the symphony.

He shifted to see my expression, curious. "You're not mad at me for tricking you into dancing with me?"

I shook my head, too awestruck and enchanted with my close proximity to his flawless body.

He dipped me low, suddenly, unexpectedly. I sucked in a sharp breath, gripping him with my utmost, earning me a low, deep laugh in my ear.

"Silly Bella," he growled playfully. "I won't drop you. Relax."

All too willingly, I practically melted in the brace of his marble arms, letting my head fall back to expose my throat.

In reward, Edward laid a cold, yet burning, trail of kisses along my pulse point. That boy was good. Too good.

He seemed to freeze with his nose gently resting right below my earlobe. I felt his shoulders tense for a flash, and then he righted me, setting me gently on the floor and twirling me out.

I spun, somehow managing to do it gracefully. Well, OK, almost gracefully. Really, Edward was the graceful one.

And then in a whoosh, I was back in his arms, and he was grinning down at me with smoldering toffee eyes underneath his long lashes. But this time, I didn't get pulled back to stand on the tops of his shoes.

"You're dancing this one," he informed me in a husky, velvet tone.

"Your loss," I warned. "I can't dance."

"Hardly," he disagreed. "You're a very good dancer, Bella. Far better than you think."

We spun across the expanse of floor in the storage closet, and I thought I was going to trip into a mop bucket, but Edward dipped me away in the nick of time.

"You know," I sighed breathlessly, "I can't even think straight when you do things like this, let alone dance straight."

His smirk definitely had a devilish edge to it. We glided one, two, three, four, in carefully timed, precise steps. Edward never faltered. He was a smashing dancer, sure of himself and the melody.

I didn't think it was possible to fall even more in love with him, but I was wrong.

Finally, though, after I have no idea how much time… I don't think it was all that much, the orchestra was still playing, after all, but he gathered me in his arms and simply held me. I pressed my face into the smooth marble column of his neck, enjoying hearing his quickened breathing. Unable to resist, I kissed him there, at the hollow of his throat, on his Adam's apple and underneath his jaw.

The hand that had rested on his shoulder slid into the soft, thick hair at the base of his skull, and I trailed my lips along his jawline.

"Bella," he growled low in my ear. "I'd better be getting you into somewhere public. I'm quite dangerous right now, and your behavior is absolutely sinful."

My heartbeat sped up. I shook my head, trying to press myself closer to him. My lips pressed to his throat again. I couldn't help it.

That was too much, though, and suddenly he was prying me off him with one hand, locking both my wrists in his iron grip.

"You are too tempting," he said with a sigh, almost scolding me as a single finger caressed down the side of my face. "I don't know how to make you understand."

"Make me," I pleaded, pouting slightly. "Edward, please. I don't know how to make you understand. Edward…"

I unconsciously licked my lips, and consciously fixed him with my best puppy-eyes look.

I saw his eyes flash, noted their slightly darker shade. And noted the granite set to his jaw, the way his breathing stilled. He frowned at me, supremely disapproving.

I swallowed, guilt welling in my chest for trying to push him. His glowering gaze, radiating frustration and determination, forced me to drop my eyes first. I watched our shoes. His self-control was unnatural. He was singlehandedly the most determined, stubborn person I'd ever met.

And it was all because he loved me too much.

I heard his deep intake of breath finally, and raised my eyes back to his. He lifted one of my hands to his smooth, cold lips. "You are too much, Bella Swan. You think I'm this perfect, impossibly strong being, but I'm not."

His eyes were soft, entrancing as he gazed at me. Edward shook his head slowly. "I'm not," he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of my hand.

I watched helplessly as he turned my hand over in his larger ones, sliding his nose along the fine blue veins in my wrist. His cool breath fanned along the sensitive skin there, and suddenly, his lips were there, tasting my heated flesh.

His marble lips opened, and the icy tip of his tongue traced along the paperthin skin there. I was utterly frozen, unable to move if the thought had even occurred to me. He could easily break the skin with his razor sharp teeth, though they were carefully protected by his lips at the moment. Just a little break of the skin, and it would be the death of me.

But the beginning of an eternity with Edward. If he could have read my thoughts, he would have heard me screaming at him in my mind to just bite me already, dammit! Forget the three days of excruciating agony or my family or my humanity.

I needed the venom. I needed the bite.

His onslaught on my senses and my wrist ceased as he withdrew with a wry twist to his lips.

He pressed a cold kiss to my forehead.

And then he was guiding me back out into the corridor, tucking my arm through his. I realized that the music had stopped, that it must be at the interlude. Was there an interlude at orchestras? I had no idea.

"Um," I started to ask.

Edward smiled down at me. "There's a brief interlude with refreshments in the main lobby. You'd like to see it, wouldn't you?"

His voice was tender, almost pleading, and even though I'd much rather have stayed in the storage closet with him, I found myself nodding happily.

As we walked, he pointed out the more features of the building. It was built in the 1920s, apparently, and had been renovated to its former glory.

As we walked the hallway, I tried to envision us in the Orpheum's heyday. I probably would have been stuck in a sequiny, black, shapeless flapper dress in the style of the day. My hair probably would have been bobbed, and Edward would have been just as breathtaking and dashing as he always was.

I was glad I wasn't in the 1920s. I would have hated the flapper look, I think. I grinned despite myself.

We made our way down to the main lobby, and a waitor bearing tall flutes of champagne paused to offer us a drink.

I felt almost scandalized – I don't drink – but Edward smoothly grabbed two flutes, passing one to me.

He clinked his glass against mine, smiling warmly at me. "To Debussy, and a night in Vancouver with the silly, wildly beautiful woman who holds my heart captive."

I felt the blood rush into my face and bloom into a flush as he complimented me. "To Debussy," I agreed, "And the sneakiest date you've ever taken me on. I love it, and I love you."

A wide grin lit Edward's chiseled features. "I'll drink to that."

Intrigued, I watched him raise the glass to his lips, and I'm pretty sure he just moistened his lips with the alcohol.

I sipped at the champagne. It was more bitter than I'd expected, but I somehow managed to not make a face. Edward was watching me speculatively, trying to gauge my reaction to the drink.

"Well?" he prompted.

I shrugged, taking another swallow. "It's all right."

His golden eyes danced in amusement. "They say it's a good vintage."

Affecting the best wine-snob air I could, I turned my nose up slightly. "I've had better."

"Naturally," he agreed.

"The bouquet falls a little flat," I continued. "And it could be sweeter."

At that, he laughed aloud. " 'The bouquet falls a little flat'?"

"Don't you know anything about champagne, Edward?" I responded, still wine-snobby and faux serious.

"Apparently not," he grinned. He touched the glass to his lips again, wetting his lips with the golden liquid. He bent down to quickly sneak a kiss, and I could taste the alcohol on his lips.

He made the champagne taste all the better, sweeter, heady even. Impossibly so.

Edward stepped back again. "You make it taste better," he explained. As if he needed an explanation.

I nodded. "So do you. Kissing champagne from your lips could vanquish my self-control."

"What self-control?" he teased. "Don't be ridiculous. I am your only self-control mechanism."

And he was right. At least when it came to him. I just couldn't help the way my body and mind longed for him, and I certainly didn't want to. I loved being in love with Edward.

I love him, I thought for probably the billionth time that evening. I drained the glass. It hadn't even been half-full to begin with. Why serve it in such tall glasses when you only fill them a half of the way up?

Before I could blink, I was suddenly holding another flute, and he was cradling my empty one.

My eyes narrowed. "Edward Cullen, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk so you could later steal my virtue."

He laughed again, a full-throated melodious sound. "Oh, that's definitely part of my master plan, Bella. As if you needed any convincing, or seduction for that matter."

I giggled at his sarcasm.

We stood there, grinning at each other like idiots in love. I wondered how much I'd have to drink before it went to my head.

And that was the precise moment that all hell broke loose.

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