Okay, are you all here? *begins taking roll* All present and accounted for, I guess. Shall we begin this little trip? It was never intended to get this far, but then, I suppose we can all say that about something in our lives, right? This is mine.

Huge hugs and other such things to my wonderful support squad: RobotMoose, BellaMadonna, WickedWriterChick, and (I forgot her last time, bad Painter) NicNicd. The beta extrordinare that spreads her awesomesauce thick on this baby is none other than BreathofTwilight. I wish I could fold her up and put her in my pocket to go everywhere with me. If you haven't read the stories these awesome ladies write, run, don't walk, to do so. Honestly, you won't be disappointed!

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns the characters, I just get to play in her sandbox occasionally, that's all.

EPOV

Shit, shit, shit. My sister, who is also my roommate, just handed me the evidence I was going to have to present to our father. Yeah, technically, we're adults, not having to answer to anyone, except Dad is still paying for college, our apartment and giving us spending money so we can concentrate on our studies rather than having to get jobs to support ourselves. He is also paying for the insurance on my baby.

"Did you tell him yet?" Alice asks, and I shake my head slowly. She rolls her eyes at me, "No? I knew it. Chicken!" She makes awful squawking noises as she leaves my room, flapping her arms and doing this really weird head bobbing thing. I can't help but chuckle at her absurd behavior.

Has it already been two weeks? What am I going to do? My mind is echoing with the memories whirling in my brain.

I was running late, as usual. I watched as the cherries and blueberries spun in my rear-view mirror. I knew I was going over the speed limit. I was in a hurry, damnit! I was always in a hurry. I had woken up late and was starting my oncology rotation that morning. I couldn't be late! With a sigh of resignation, I located the registration and pulled out my license before the officer reached my window, hoping to speed up the process as much as possible. While I was gathering the documents I needed I began to formulate a story to earn the officer's sympathy, hopefully to have him move along to someone else to fulfill his quota for the day. I expected to look up and find the typical, somewhat rotund, donut dunker. I was so engaged in making sure everything was ready, I didn't realize the officer was already standing impatiently at my window. I rolled down the window, ready to plead my case, when I looked up and found myself gazing into the deepest chocolate brown eyes I'd ever seen. I hadn't even considered that the officer approaching my car might be female. Now, I was confronted with my story not being appropriate for the officer in question. My brain chose that particular moment to take a vacation. All I could do was stare. With no excuse, like a wife about to give birth in my car, I just took my lumps, or in this case a ticket, and headed to the hospital.

I've spent the past two weeks doing one of two things: Fantasizing about the beautiful officer attached to the most gorgeous brown eyes I've ever seen, or trying to figure out how to keep this situation from my father. I just know he'll blow a gasket if he finds out.

I gulp audibly and open the envelope to see just how bad the damages are going to be.

Holy shit! She clocked me doing 74 in a 35mph zone. Thirty-nine miles over the limit. Well, truthfully, I should be glad it was only 39. Could have been worse. It has been worse. Often. But, holy shit! The fine was way more than I can comfortably part with out of my disposable income. There was no way I can pay it. I'll have to ask Dad. That means I'll have to tell Dad. No. Unacceptable. Figure it out, Cullen.

"Alice!" I raise my voice and call out again, running my fingers through my hair furiously, "Alice!"

"Why are you screaming?" she walks back into the room, eyes flashing, hands on hips, looking like she is about to take a baseball bat to me. "What is so blasted important that you feel the need to shriek my name so loudly that everyone within a half-mile radius knows you want to talk to me?"

"Aw, Ali," I give her my most engaging smirk, trying to soothe her ruffled feathers. She was still seething. Smirky McSmirkiton doesn't appear to be working this time around. I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair, again, before I begin prodding for information, "Just . . . do you remember when Emmett got that speeding ticket last year?"

"Yes," she huffs. "What about it?"

"Did Dad ever find out about it?" I certainly don't remember any confrontations between them, so I'm really unsure. "I mean, I never heard Dad say anything."

"No, Edward. Emmett is too smart for that, unlike some people . . ." Now she's just baiting me. I refuse to be baited. I need to know how Emmett avoided the confrontation with Dad.

"So, what'd he do, Ali? I can't let Dad find out about this. He'll take the Volvo and I'll be relegated to riding Public Transportation!" I knew she saw the terror those thoughts brought to my heart. My Volvo is my baby. I love that fucking car. I couldn't be parted from it. And public transportation, ugh, takes forever to get anywhere, and it's never convenient. Not to mention the snotty-nosed kids, the people sneezing with no thought to the germs they're spreading, the weirdos, and the general griminess of the buses themselves.

"Well, he found a way. Why don't you call him and ask." Great. Now I'm going to have to let the big guy know, too. Isn't it bad enough that the munchkin has to know; now he does too. Man, can't catch a break here.

"All right, Ali . . . sure you don't want to call him?" I plead.

"No, Edward. I don't. You got the ticket, you call him."

Pulling out my cell, I harrumph at her and dial his number.

"Hey, Li'l Bro! How's it hangin'?" Emmett thinks he's such a comedian, calling me by his annoying nicknames and trying to make me feel inferior, just because he's five years older.

"Hey, Em. Listen, remember when you got that ticket? Did you pay the fine or did Dad?"

He burst into a raucous laugh, "Oh no, neither one, my man, neither one. Dad never found out about it, thank God. Why?" He's not going to just give it up; I'm actually going to have to ask . . . ugh. "Did you get a little tickey-wickey?"

"Yeah, Em, I got a ticket. 74 in a 35. Fine is fucking outrageous." I wince and pull the phone away from my ear as he guffaws loudly.

"How did you get away with not paying a fine or Dad finding out?"

"Not rocket science, Li'l Bro. I took a traffic class and it was wiped off my record, fine was reduced, and Daddy Dearest was never the wiser." I can just see his chest puffed out with pride. "I'll email a link to the school in a bit. Right now, I've got some serious business to discuss with a certain blond . . . Bye, Bro!" he laughs as he cuts the connection.

Okay, problem number two solved. Whew! Back to problem number one. Damn, I never thought police officers could look like that. It's no wonder I lost the ability to speak coherently when she asked me why I was speeding. She probably figures I am a spoiled rich kid that feels the world owes me. She's only half right. I am a spoiled rich kid, but I'm working on paying the world back.

I close my eyes: Officer Swan. God, is she beautiful. I picture her in my mind. Chestnut hair, tied up in a tight twist at the back of her head, tucked into her police cap. That belt encircling her tiny little waist. But, most of all, those deep pools of liquid chocolate, surrounded by long lashes. They were hard when they chastised me for speeding. What I wouldn't give to see them softer, sweeter… maybe with a tinge of lust in them…

Back to the problem at hand, this is going to be a much better idea. Dad won't find out. I can use my meager disposable income to pay for the class. I'll just have to give up dating for a month or so. No prob, I've got a string of booty calls I can make, provided, of course, that they turn me loose from the hospital long enough to make them.

I just have to make sure Alice doesn't spill. I grin to myself. Again, no prob! Dad doesn't know about Jasper, and I don't think she wants him to. Jasper is an all right guy. I like him; Dad might even like him at first, too. He just wouldn't approve of his 'line of work,' if you can even call it that. Alice has always been a musician junkie, even back in high school. None of the big name rock bands ever came close enough to Forks for her to go to concerts, so she just settled for the 'guys in the band' - concert band, marching band. She particularly liked the brass players. She said something about the dexterity required to trill notes on a brass instrument. I really don't need to know about that. TMI, Li'l Sis! Oh yeah, and Jasper plays trumpet as well as singing in a local band here in Seattle. They have gigs every weekend. During the week, he studies music theory. A musician isn't high on Dad's list for a son-in-law. He'd figure Jasper would never amount to anything. He as much as said musicians will never amount to anything - more than once. Alice won't spill! Perfect set up; I get the ticket erased, and Dad will never be the wiser!

Fortunately, they had a class scheduled for my only Saturday off this month, and it's only 8 hours. I can do 8 hours standing on my head! So, I pull into the parking lot. Hmm, not too many cars here. I glance at the clock. I'm a few minutes early. Fuck, I hate getting up early on my day off. I'll just relax and listen to some KOL until it's time.

I open my eyes and my clock says 8:03. Fuckity, fuck, fuck. How the hell did I fall asleep? This fucking rotation never gives me enough time to get the rest I really need. I was supposed to be in there at 8. I jump out of the car, tear across the parking lot and into the hotel. Which room is it again? I see a line that's forming outside a conference room. That must be it. I check my confirmation information. Yup, that's it. Wouldn't want to be late for this class!

Everyone is signing in as they pass the table by the door, then finding a seat inside. I sign in, looking around the room for someone that looks interesting to sit with. You know this is going to be boring as fuck. Well, hello there! I snag a seat next to an attractive, petite, strawberry blond that looks just about as excited to be there as I am. "Edward," I say as I stick out my hand.

She looks at it, shrugs and says, "Tanya," then goes back to examining her manicure.

That went well.

As I settle in, I scan the room looking for the asshat that's running this show. They tell me a police officer teaches this class. I don't see any uniforms. Bored, I start watching my neighbor out of the corner of my eye as I pretend to be reading the materials they gave us as we came in. Soon, a voice clears at the front of the room. I look up. "My name is Officer Swan, and I'll be your instructor today."

I stifle a groan. I'm going to have to sit here for eight hours while the fucking star of my current naughty fantasies lectures me on the rules of the road. Think of something else, Cullen. Cold showers, Great Aunt Geraldine's teeth, anything! Down, boy! This class may be the end of me. I'm going to walk out of here with a monumental case of blue balls for sure.

I've been dreaming of this woman for weeks. I've undressed her in my fantasies. I've explored every inch of her body in my mind. Here she is, standing in front of me, looking all kinds of fuckable, and I have to listen to her tell me the rules! Fuck the rules, fuck her! Fuck her! Yeah, fantasizing about that will help pass the time. She can spout rules all she wants. I'll just think about fucking her six ways from Tuesday. Shit, that's not going to work! I can't sit here all day with a raging hard on. Aunt Geraldine, where are you? Blue balls, indeed! I glance at my watch, 8:15. Ugh! Seven hours and forty-five more minutes. You can do this, Geraldine, Geraldine, Geraldine. Oh, God, don't tell me we have to watch some fuckin' movie.

Freakin' ass boring movie. I've seen this shit on my ER rotation. I don't need to watch a fucking movie about it. The discussion is somewhat lackluster, but mildly entertaining if you watch Officer Swan squirm over some of the questions and comments that could be taken as innuendo.

Well, at least it's over. Boring as fuck, but . . . what the hell? More work? I look at the evaluation questionnaire that has just been handed out. Okay, you've teased me all fucking day, Officer Chocolate Drops, you're gonna get yours now. Don't think I haven't noticed that you've looked everyone else in the eyes at least once, but haven't even looked at me, much less in my eyes. I raise my hand, "Officer Swan? Do these get turned in to the precinct? I guess what I'm asking is, who, besides yourself, sees these?"

Still not looking at me, she answers, "As I said, these are to help me improve the class for future students. No one sees them but me, so you can be honest, please!" She really seems to want some feedback, and I'm hoping the reason she hasn't looked at me is because she is attracted to me and doesn't want me to know. I've been really good. Really, really good, in fact. I participated in the discussion. I paid attention to the video, even though it nearly put me to sleep. I got 100% on her stupid little quiz. Now you want feedback, Officer Hershey Kisses? Well, I'm certainly going to give you some. So, where it says 'comments' on the form, I begin my evaluation . . .

Dear Officer Swan:

I appreciated your clear and concise goals for our class today. Although the video was boring, I enjoyed the class discussion. I do, however, have a suggestion . . .

Dinner. Wednesday. 7:30pm. Agua Verde Café. Call me to confirm or I'll be calling on you at work. 555-0693

Sincerely,

Edward Cullen

That should get her attention. Agua Verde is close to the Hospital, casual, yet trendy enough to be impressive. Perfect. My shift ends at 7:00, so that should give me time for a quick shower and have time to spare.

I hope she reads her evals before the deadline I gave her. That would be really embarrassing to show up at the station and she had no idea I might be coming or why I was there. Well, I'll give her until Tuesday afternoon. If I haven't heard from her by then, I'll just show up and take charge. I've never had to pursue a woman before, but, something tells me she will be worth it.

Thank God this shift is over. It seems like forever since I've seen a bed. Well, it almost has been. This fucking shift started at 7pm Monday evening and it's now 36 hours later. Shit, I was going to go to the station yesterday when she was getting off her shift. Damnit. I pull out my cell phone to check for messages and the little red light is blinking. Well, someone called. As I listen to the messages, I head for the car to get my tired ass home to bed. I stop dead in my tracks, "Dr. Cullen . . ." She called! She's confirming our date for dinner. Yes! Now I can rest easy knowing I'll be drowning in those chocolate pools in only, I check my watch, eleven hours and thirty-six minutes . . .

Thank God they turned me loose early today; even though it is a half-assed sort of apology for the unexpected 36 hour shift.

I run to my car so I can get home and grab some much needed sleep before I need to get ready for my date with Officer Swan. God, she is so beautiful. Not once have I ever worried about what to wear, where to take someone, or how I might come across on a date. Women just accept me as I am and, more often than not, take me to bed. I want to get Officer Swan in bed, but even more, I want to know more about her. I've never felt this way before. Like there is something more that I want from a woman.

e/n *peeking out, again, from behind the shed*

So, are you still with me? Next time, let's hear what Bella has to say, shall we? See you next Monday! 'Til then, why doncha let me know what you think? You know how to do that, right?