Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SM. This... is MY territory.

A/N: This is a bit different than what you're used to here, but what can I say? Edward changes everything just by existing. And if you don't understand that...

...

Chapter Nine: Territory

My new sex on a stick neighbor is an FBI agent.

A criminal profiling FBI agent.

A criminal profiling FBI agent who's in my house.

Okay, God... I get it. I've been a bad girl...

But this isn't funny!

Seriously...

Not funny.

Yes, I invited him in...

And yes, I want him here, but...

Shit!

"Are you alright?"

"What?"

"I said are you alright? You seem suddenly... unsettled."

Beautiful, observant, criminal profiling bastard...

"No, I'm great. So... " I clear my throat and work to calm my nerves. "What can I get you to drink? Beer, wine, Coke, juice, water, something-"

"A beer would be great."

"Beer coming right up. Make yourself comfortable."

I gesture towards the couch and turn and head for the kitchen, but instead of sitting down, Edward follows behind me.

"This is a great house."

"Thanks. Yours is too."

"You've been inside?"

"A few times. The family that used to live there had kids. They liked me. Glass?"

He shakes his head and takes the bottle of Sam Adams from my outstretched hand, his long, beautiful fingers grazing mine subtly before pulling away.

"Thank you. And did you like them?"

I try to ignore the tremors that his simple touch sent coursing through my body and answer his question. "The kids? Of course. I love kids. And you're welcome."

I extend my bottle into the space between us. "To new neighbors."

I see something ghost across his features as he stares at me intently, and clinks his bottle against mine. "To new neighbors."

He takes a long pull from the bottle, his eyes never leaving mine.

His stunning eyes that change from green to gray and back again, and nearly knock me off of my feet.

Luckily for me, his voice is no less stunning, and pulls me from my induced-by-him trance. "You know, it's customary to actually take a drink after a toast."

I'm drinking you in, doesn't that count?

"What was that?" he asks as I bring my bottle to my lips.

I take a drink before I speak, because frankly, I'm not sure I could speak if I didn't. I know I didn't say that out loud! "What was what?"

He chuckles softly and his mouth forms into a sexy smirk. "Nothing, I guess. So, Bella... have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Perfect. Any good pizza to be found around here?"

"Pizza? I don't know if you want to do that. I saw the Illinois plate on your Tahoe, and you're wearing a Bears shirt... I'm going to take a guess that you're from Chicago... "

"That would be an accurate guess."

"Isn't Chicago kind of famous for its pizza?"

"Best pizza on earth."

"Yeah, well you're definitely not in Chicago now. I'm sure we don't have anything that would satisfy you here."

"Not the pizza, perhaps... but Seattle is looking pretty satisfying from where I'm standing. I think you more than make up for anything else that may disappoint me here."

"There's that pesky bullshit detector going off again... "

"I already told you, your bullshit detector is broken."

"You think so, do you?"

"I know so. I don't bullshit."

"Don't you?"

"No. Never."

"Then what do you call it?"

"Appreciation."

"If you say so."

"I do."

If only... "So, Edward... "

"You're a little young to be so jaded, Bella. Do you have trust issues in general or is it just men?"

"Maybe it's just you."

His mouth twitches with amusement and he brings his beer to his lips. "Maybe. But you want to believe me. Believe that I'm for real. That I mean what I say." He pauses and takes another long pull from the bottle, his eyes again not leaving mine. "So you tell yourself not to. Which is a different trust issue entirely, and far more serious. You don't trust yourself."

What the hell? "You don't know me."

"I want to."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. And you want to know me."

I shake my head with an exasperated sigh. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

"I am."

"Right. Well, now that we've established that... What brings you to Seattle?"

"I believe we were talking about you."

"No, you were trying to get inside my head. Take a day off, FBI man. Nothing to investigate here. Now-"

"Do you always push people away when they get too close?"

No... they go by themselves. "Do you always say exactly what's on your mind?"

"Yes. Do you never?"

"I told you you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. When you were up a tree, no less. That's not never."

"True, you did. But there's a lot more going on in that head of yours that you don't say. Not out loud, anyway... regardless of where I happen to be."

"Yet you seem to hear it."

"I'm good at my job."

I bet you're good at a lot of things... "But I'm not a suspect." Well...

"I'm not so sure about that, Bella. But you're right, I am."

What the... ? How does he do that?

"Your eyes are very expressive. They give you away. If someone's paying attention. And I am."

"Maybe you just have a really big ego."

"Maybe. And a really big-"

"Please don't ruin it."

"Don't ruin what?"

"My hope that maybe you really might be different. Bragging about your credentials will ruin it."

"Well, Bella, my credentials speak for themselves. I was going to say appetite. A really big appetite."

"You were?"

"Yes, I was. But I'm honored that your mind is on my credentials. And that you spoke it. And that you admit to having hope about me, which I would never in a million years ruin."

"My mind is not on... nevermind. And stop smirking at me."

"You don't like my smirk? Or is it that there's something else you'd like me to be doing with my mouth instead?"

Fuck yes... "Drink your beer, FBI man. I'll get you the number for a pizza delivery place. Not many come out here to our quiet little neighborhood."

"I don't need the number. You can just order it. Sourdough crust, if they have it. Sausage and mushrooms on my half. And whatever you want on yours. But if you want anchovies, get your own pie, because that will just ruin the whole thing."

"First of all, I don't like anchovies. And second of all, who said I was going to eat pizza with you?"

"I believe I just did. With my mouth. That you want. Somewhere."

"You're very arrogant."

"I think you mean observant."

"No, I mean ARROGANT." And it's sexy as hell...

His crooked smile tells me that he's in my head again, and liking it. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong."

"You're a terrible liar, Bella. You better hope I never have to interrogate you in an official capacity. I can see right through you."

I sure as hell hope not... "And I can hear your stomach growling. And since I'm a sweet and compassionate woman, I'll order your pizza so you can eat a last meal before I kill you and add your body to my collection buried under my front porch. Sourdough, you said?"

"I did," he laughs, "And I believe you about the sweet part, maybe, but not the rest."

"No?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Then maybe you're not as good at your job as you think you are."

"Or maybe you have trouble saying what's really on your mind."

"Again with that? And what do you think is really on my mind now?"

"Well... you want me. But I don't believe under your front porch is where you want me. You just don't like that I'm figuring you out. And you're afraid or too shy to tell me what you really want. Which, again, is me."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yes."

"You're wrong. Again."

"The blush I see on your cheeks tells me otherwise."

"I don't blush."

"You're lying. Again." He moves closer to me and raises the beer bottle in his hand, and gently sweeps the cool glass across my cheek. "And more than your beautiful eyes is giving you away this time."

"You're in my space again."

"You invited me. You just didn't say it out loud."

"I think you just hear things you want to hear, even if they aren't there."

"No, they're there. And it's okay, you know... that you want me. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I won't hold it against you. Not until I'm invited to, anyway."

"You're something else... "

"I am."

"And the one who's lying now. Something tells me that you don't wait for invitations to do anything."

"You mean you hope I don't."

"I'm ordering the pizza now. You seriously need something to occupy your arrogant mouth."

"You're right about that, Miss … ?"

"Swan."

"Aah... beautiful. Very fitting."

"Aah... sarcasm. Very typical. Forget what I said, you're not different."

"There's nothing typical about me, Bella. Different doesn't begin to describe me. And no sarcasm, it is very fitting."

"Whatever you say, Mr. … ?"

"Cullen. And don't tease, Miss Swan."

I roll my eyes and give him a gentle shove away from me, and down my beer, trying to clear the enticing possibilities of what kind of orders he might give from my brain. Mercy...

He chuckles and downs his own, his eyes dancing with wicked playfulness.

I shake my head in exasperation, and in an attempt to clear him from it. "Make yourself useful and open a couple more of these," I say, taking his empty bottle and tossing it in the trash. "And go sit down. In the other room."

"Yes, Miss Swan. Whatever you say, Miss Swan. For now."

He chuckles again at my narrowed eyes and grabs two more beers from the fridge. He finally leaves the kitchen, an arrogant smirk on his face, and after shamelessly watching him walk away, I find the number of the only pizza place I know of that offers a sourdough crust.

It takes a bit of pleading - and a bribe - to get them to agree to deliver it, but I think my dinner companion is worth one autographed copy of one my most beloved books.

Or at least he might have been, if he were still here. But all I find when I make my way to my living room is the two beers, and other than one very comfortable kitten, an empty couch.

What the hell?

What is it with people always sneaking out on me?

I'd really hate to have to teach my beautiful new neighbor a lesson in manners...

You mean our beautiful new neighbor that's an FBI agent?

Yeah, him.

Calm your claws, Catbitch. Or dig them into his back, but keep your gloves OFF. He'll be back.

Maybe.

Or maybe I don't need to worry about how to keep him out of my head. He climbed out all on his own.

I sigh and grab my beer from the coffee table, and my pack of cigarettes from my bag and light one, and make my way to the flashing light of the answering machine. I delete a few unimportant messages and am listening to the adorable daughter of my publisher gush and squeal about my latest book just as Edward walks through the front door. He has a cigarette in one hand, and the pack and his wallet in the other, which he holds up in explanation for his disappearing act.

There's something about him walking into my house without so much as a knock, and the comfortable way he moves around.

He came back.

He wants to be here.

Wants to be near me.

Figure me out.

This man that I didn't know two hours ago.

This man that climbed a tree to get my kitten five minutes after we met.

This man that told me I was stunningly beautiful from high up that tree mere minutes later.

This man that is, without a doubt, truly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...

Which I'm pretty sure he was aware of, long before I said it...

Because he's arrogant and cocky...

Arrogant and cocky and bold...

And says what's on his mind without hesitation.

This man is sure of himself.

Confident.

And damn, it's fucking sexy.

A slight shiver runs up my spine as my eyes follow him to the coffee table, where he lays down his wallet and cigarettes and picks up his beer, before making his way to where I stand. I'm suddenly grateful for the long sleeves I'm wearing, that conceal the goosebumps that I know now cover every inch of my skin.

He leans closer to me and I give him a That's my space glare, but he only smiles a crooked smile at me, and flicks an about-to-fall ash from the end of his cigarette into the ashtray in front of me, before stepping back and leaning against the wall beside me.

A small laugh escapes me, in part from his You want me smirk, and because the little voice coming from the machine is now telling me that she must meet Figaro right away - which he seems to hear, because he comes running and is now meowing at our feet.

"You have a fan," Edward says, crouching down to scratch his furry little head, as Ana's message ends with a loud kiss.

I can't help but smile at the sight of Edward playing with my cat, who is now attacking his untied shoelaces as if they were snakes mercilessly taunting him. Edward laughs, and just as I'm thinking it's the most incredible sound I've ever heard, it evaporates as Jasper's voice comes through the machine.

"I meant what I said, Bella. Always. Don't ever forget how much I love you. That will never change."

It's the last message, and one that he must have left right after I pulled away from their house, and left here, rather than my cell that I would have answered. Because he wanted me to come home to something that would make me smile.

And as luck would have it, I did, but long before I heard his sweet words.

I came home to find the perfection that is Edward Cullen.

Who now stands at his full height, right in front of me.

And drops his cigarette in the ashtray.

And sets his beer next to it.

And places his now-empty hands on the table on either side of me, boxing me in.

And who looks... beautifully pissed.

"You wanted to talk about me, so I'll tell you something about myself now. And listen carefully, because this is important. I'm a very territorial man, Bella. I would never allow someone to trespass in mine, nor would I ever knowingly commit such an offense in another's."

He leans even closer, his warm breath flowing over my face as he continues, "So, I have a question for you. Answer it honestly. Am I trespassing in another man's territory?"

Just when I thought he couldn't get any sexier...

"The only territory you're trespassing in, Edward, is mine."

"If that's true... then who the hell was that?"

"A friend."

"A friend?"

"Yes. A very good friend, but just a friend."

"Well, Bella, I don't know what kind of friendships you have with men... but that didn't sound like the kind I'd approve of if I were going to stake a claim here."

"Stake a claim here?"

"That's what I said."

"That's a bit presumptive, don't you think?"

"I say what I think, I could care less if it's presumptive or not."

"And you think you might want to stake a claim here."

"I do. And I think you might want me to."

"And if I don't?"

"Tell me to leave."

I don't want you to leave... "That would be rude. I invited you here."

"You did."

"Then you imposed your... pizza on me."

"Which isn't here yet."

"But which I went to great lengths to ensure comes, if you can just be calm while you wait for it."

"Are you sure we're talking about pizza, Bella?"

"Yes, we are."

"Just checking."

"Anything else you feel the need to check? Or do you want to assume something else?"

"You're going to tell me about your friend."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"Okay, Mr. Territorial, why don't you give me back my personal space, and go stake your claim on my couch? I have to go get the bribe your pizza is costing me, then maybe we'll talk."

"I think you like me in your space," he breathes, not moving. "And there's no maybe about it."

"You hope I do. And-"

"You haven't told me otherwise."

"You'd probably just accuse me of lying if I did."

"I would."

"So there's no point, really."

"None at all."

I sigh and direct my eyes to his arms, and then back to his face, and wait patiently for him to move. But still he doesn't, and his eyes are burning a hole right through me. I challenge his penetrating stare with one of my own, and attempt another playful shove like in the kitchen, but this time he's a wall of stone, and doesn't move an inch. At least not an inch away...

His arms flex and he makes a noise low in his throat as he inches his body even closer, causing me to lose my balance as I try to take a step back. There's nowhere to go, and my hands grab onto him instinctively as my ass hits the table behind me.

"Is that my invitation, Bella?" he asks, pushing himself against me.

"No, Edward, it's not," I answer, far less convincingly than I intended.

"A misunderstanding, perhaps," he sighs, taking a small step back, but leaving his hands in place, still boxing me in.

I let mine fall from his arms after a moment - or force them, rather, because it's the last thing they wanted to do - and clear my throat again.

The only thing that moves this time is his mouth. "Something caught in your throat, Miss Swan?"

"No."

"That's good. Because if you want me to move, you'll have to actually say the words."

"I believe I already did."

"Did you? Funny, I didn't hear that."

"I think you only hear what you want to hear."

"And do what I want to do."

"Clearly."

"Don't blame me, Bella. I told you I was territorial. I can't help it."

"You're an only child, aren't you? You never had to share your toys or your parents' affection, am I right?"

"You are."

"And no one's really ever told you no, have they?"

"I've been told no."

"By a woman?"

"Yes."

"That wasn't your mother?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"Is there a point to your lucky-guess observations, Miss Swan?"

"Just trying to get inside your head, Mr. Cullen. It's only fair, don't you think, since you've been so invasive?"

"Point taken, Miss Swan." He releases me from his makeshift prison and looks at me with serious eyes. "Forgive me if I overstepped."

"There's nothing to forgive, Mr. Cullen. No harm done." Except to my panties... "Besides," I smile sweetly and give him a slightly-less-than-gentle pat on the cheek, "you can't help it. Right? Isn't that what you said?"

"It is," he smirks, his eyes amused now.

"Very well, then. Now, please... I implore you... make yourself comfortable, and I'll be right back."

I laugh and shake my head as I head out of the living room and down the hall, because instead of sitting down and waiting for me, Edward follows right behind me.

"If you think the tour you've invited yourself on leads to my bedroom, it doesn't," I call over my shoulder.

"I'll get there eventually."

"Not tonight, you won't."

"That's okay. I'll wait. So, where are we going now?"

I open the door and turn on the light, revealing my private space. Edward steps inside with a smile, and quietly looks around as I watch him. Until now, Alice and Jasper are the only people that I've ever let in here. I kept the door locked when the abandoner was around, but he never showed any interest in being let in. He didn't care enough about what might be inside to waste a moment's thought on it. He didn't care enough about me.

I know that Edward being in here now is nothing more than his arrogant and pushy curiosity, but the way he's looking at everything as if it's valuable and important makes it even more so to me.

I don't know what one might call it, though I suppose it's a bit like an office or a den. Chaotic disorder rules the space, which Figaro now joins us in, his intent undoubtedly to wreak even more havoc than already appears to have occurred.

There are books everywhere... on my desk, the couch, the floor... ones I've written, others I've read. Rough sketches and illustrations are scattered about on every surface, drawn mostly by me, some by Alice. Awards adorn the walls, line shelves... the accomplishments I keep hidden. An antique Underwood typewriter sits atop a table in a place of prestige, a gift from Jasper during our freshman year in college, and something very special to me.

Edward looks at it now, and then at me, watching him as he scoops Figaro up just as he leaps for it from a nearby chair. "You're a very interesting woman, Bella Swan."

"Am I?" I ask honestly. "And why is that?"

"Definitely. And for many reasons."

I smile and shrug my shoulders and his eyes grow serious, but he doesn't say anything else, only looks at me. After a few moments of being held under his unwavering stare, I force myself to move, and get the copy of the book I came in here for. He continues to watch me as I open it on my desk and write a simple inscription inside the front cover and sign my name.

"All set," I say moving towards the door, book in hand.

"Is that the bribe for my pizza?"

"To get it delivered, yes."

"We're not that far out."

"Well, they don't deliver at all. It's a pretentious little place, but the only one I knew that offered what you wanted, so... "

"And you were willing to do that for me."

"You were willing to climb your tree to get my cat."

"I'm not sure you can compare the two."

"You're right. You risked your life."

"It's not like I ran into a burning building or anything. It was just a tree."

"You could have fallen and broken your neck."

"A possibility, I suppose, but I didn't."

"Luckily for you. You'd have trouble following me around if you had."

He laughs as he follows my pointed finger into the hallway and waits for me to close the door before setting Figaro on his feet. "That I would."

I nod and gesture down the hall. "After you."

"Certainly not," he says, shaking his head, "Ladies first. My mother did teach me some manners."

"I'm sure she did," I allow, leading the way once again, "though it remains to be seen whether or not you remember any of them."

"And which ones you might hope I don't."

"You are charming, aren't you, Mr. Cullen?

"You have no idea, Miss Swan."

"Oh, I think I have some idea."

"You'll have more by the time the pizza comes."

I set the book on the coffee table as Edward grabs our beers and the ashtray and finally takes a seat on my couch.

"Does that mean we're going to talk more about you now? So you can attempt to further charm me?" I ask, tossing my own pack of cigarettes on the table next to his.

"What that means... " he starts, grabbing me just as I'm about to sit down, and pulling me into his lap. "...is that my decision is made."

"What decision is that?" I ask breathlessly. "Or is it just the obvious one that you can't stay out of my space?"

"Your space is mine now, Bella. That's what decision. And I want to claim it."

The power of his words is no match for his eyes, as they stare intently into my shocked ones.

Shock that falls away under the feel of his hands moving up my back, branding me with their searing heat.

Hands that now slide into my hair and possessively cup the back of my head and pull my mouth to his.

His mouth that stakes a far gentler-than-I-expect claim on mine.

A prelude.

A tease.

A torment.

What's to come, but not quite yet...

He starts to pull back and I want to stake a claim of my own, pulling him back to me frantically.

But he stills my desperation, his hands on my face. "I know."

"I want you to. I want you in my space. I... "

"I know you do. I'm here. And I will. After you tell me about your friend, who's now trespassing in my territory."

"His name is Jasper... ... "

And maybe he was right...

Maybe...

I think...

Someone came along.

When I least expected it.

Someone who saw...

Something he wanted to claim...

Something he thought was worth fighting for...

Someone.

He's already fighting for it.

Her.

Fighting...

Here.

In my space.

For me.

...

Well, he certainly doesn't waste any time, does he? Maybe Jasper was right.

And no, at the moment she's not thinking any more about the potential disaster this poses... there's plenty of time for that. Later.

**And... I started a new something. It was clawing to get out. And that clawing was impossible to ignore...

It's called For Better or For Worse. Chapter One is up. And hot, if you ask me. Which you didn't, so...