Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. Glory is mine. And his.

A/N: Just read.

Chapter Ten: Glory

"So, you think you can just come in here, trespass all over my personal space, stake your arrogant claim, play keep away when I want to stake my own, put me through a grand inquisition, eat your pizza and leave?"

"That's an accurate description of this evening's events, Bella. And yes, I think I can."

"Well, you can't."

"No?"

"No."

"And what part of that can't I do? Because I've already effectively accomplished all but one."

"Don't leave."

"Well, look at that, you can say what's on your mind, vague though it is."

"I told you I don't want you to leave, how is that vague?"

"You said don't leave, but you didn't say why you want me to stay."

"Nevermind. Adios, FBI man."

"I'll be back, you know. I don't just stake my claim on the land and then go looking for the next prospective property."

"Good for you."

"I happen to think it's good for both of us. That I take my time... settle in... surmise all of the things it needs... all of the things I can do to it...

"Then I get to work. Get my hands dirty... work it long and hard... really put my back into it... work up a good sweat... "

"Do you hear that? That loud, annoying beeping? It's right here. What is that wretched sound? Oh yeah, it's my bullsh-"

His lips crush against mine, effectively cutting off my words, his fingers weaving tightly into my hair, pulling and twisting as he holds me immobile and thoroughly works my mouth.

And there's not an ounce of bullshit coming from his now as he stakes an anything-but-gentle claim with this kiss.

Holy fuck, this kiss...

I've never felt lips so soft...

So hard...

So possessive...

They don't just claim mine...

They claim me.

Every melting inch of me.

I can feel it in my toes...

The melting.

In my bones...

That I think are no longer solid...

Ho..ly...Fuuuuuck!

He's surveying the land...

His tongue...

His masterful fucking tongue that I want all over me...

In me...

And back in my mouth the second he takes it from me.

"As much as I would like to stay, one thing you were quite clear about is that I won't be getting into your bed tonight. And since I won't, I would at least like to get into my own, which isn't yet assembled. And since it won't assemble itself... "

My words come out in a breathless whoosh, "You need to go put your back into it."

"I do."

Damn. "Well, try not to hurt yourself."

"Don't worry about me, beautiful... I'll handle it. And be back to handle you, when I get the invitation."

"If."

"Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything. You must be imagining things, Mr. Cullen."

"You wish I was, Miss Swan."

"Goodnight, FBI man."

"Goodnight, Bella. I'll see you in your dreams."

Soft lips blow gently over my burning flesh, cooling the trail of fire his tongue sets over my skin.

It's better than I imagined.

His tongue.

Surveying.

Working.

Me.

My nipples are hardened peaks atop my breasts.

Swollen by his appreciation.

Aching for more.

Because he's left them already...

And they want him back.

They beg for his return.

I beg.

My mouth.

For his descent.

His mercy.

His hands grip my thighs.

His tongue continues to trail its fiery path over my stomach.

So close...

My pleas get louder.

He slows.

Torments.

Controls.

Makes me wait.

His thumbs draw a lazy design on my skin.

My legs that tremble in his grip.

His grip that tightens.

Opens me before him.

To make me wait.

Longer.

For his mouth...

That lingers over the bone at my hip.

Content.

Adoring.

While I squirm with shameless want.

Need.

For him to move on.

Move lower.

Sooth the clawing ache he's built...

Cool the fire.

The unbearable burn.

"Please, Edward... " I whimper, "Claim it."

I hear a deep chuckle, though it sounds distant to my ears.

The haze in my brain is dulling my senses.

Or it isn't.

Because I feel.

Oh fuck, do I feel...

His mouth...

I feel...

My dripping, throbbing flesh.

I hear...

His voice.

I bolt upright in bed, my body covered in a sheen of sweat, my hand between my legs.

Fuck...

My hand.

Not his.

Not his mouth.

It was just a dream.

But I heard him...

Didn't I?

I know I did.

And the soft knock I hear now on my slightly open window tells me I'm not wrong.

It was a dream.

It wasn't his mouth I felt...

But it was his voice I heard...

His deep, arrogant chuckle...

Because he heard me through my slightly open window.

Which he's standing outside of.

"Bella."

And he's not going to go away.

I climb from the bed and walk slowly to the window, straightening my damp-with-sweat cotton t-shirt and my damp-with-something-else cotton boy shorts on the way.

"Stalking is a crime, you know. One would think you'd know that... "

"It's not stalking when I'm in my own territory."

"Why are you outside my window?"

"Just checking on you. You left it open. I heard a noise. A few noises, actually."

"From inside your house?"

"No, I was already outside."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Yes."

"Stalking me while I slept."

"No, having a smoke on my porch while I couldn't."

"And you heard a noise."

"I did."

"So, you were... investigating?"

"I was."

"And did you find anything?"

"I heard you call my name."

"No you didn't."

"I assure you, I did."

"You wanted to, so you're just saying you did."

"I told you I'd see you in your dreams, Bella."

"You trespassed on my dreams."

"You invited me. And I came. And you liked it."

"Well, I'm awake now, so go away."

"I'll leave your window, but only to go to your door so you can let me in."

"Now you're dreaming."

"While you are something like a dream, Bella, I assure you I'm awake. See you at the front door."

I shake my head at his arrogance as he walks away from my window, and at myself for finding it irresistible, as I all but run from my bedroom to let the cocky fucker in.

He smirks as I open the door, and steps inside, closing it behind him. His eyes travel deliberately over my damp, rumpled sleep attire, and down, lingering on my bare legs, before moving back up to my face. "You really are stunningly beautiful, Bella."

I eye his far-surpassing-mine stunning beauty, and possibly his own chosen sleep attire - gray sweats and plain white v-neck tee, topped with a gray hoodie and his bare feet slipped into a pair of unlaced Doc Martens for his porch smoke - and clear my throat. "Back at ya, stalker." Seriously... "But if you'll excuse me, stunningly beautiful or not, I'm sorely underdressed, and unpresentable for company, especially stalker company. And since you've managed to make your way in, get comfortable or whatever... I'll be right back."

His hand clamps around my wrist as I turn to walk away, and he pulls me to him, bringing my trapped hand to his nose. My trapped hand that I woke with between my legs...

He inhales deeply, moaning at the scent that greets him, and I watch in shock as he pulls my oh so recently soaked-with-me fingers one at a time into his mouth. Fucking hell...

"Now you can go," he says, dropping my hand, once all traces of me have been tantalizingly sucked from my fingers, "if you think you must, but let it be known that you look, and taste, perfectly presentable to me."

I bite my lip, at a loss for a response, and walk away with a thumping heart. I can feel his eyes on me, and glance over my shoulder to look, and find them on my ass where I expected. And him, for a first, not moving to follow me.

I throw on a pair of clean - and most importantly, dry - underwear, and a pair of sweats, and pull a sweatshirt over my head, ignoring the want-him-inspired urge to shower. I'm not sleeping with him hours after we met, no matter how much my body is telling me I should. I've never invited a man into my bed, or crawled into one of theirs, on the first night, and claimed or not, I'm not going to start now.

My brazen behavior on not so long ago nights doesn't count... I didn't fuck any of them, and whatever pleasure I may have secured for myself before I killed them, was merely something I felt I deserved. And it's not like they were unwilling...

But this isn't that. This is something else, and dangerous circumstances aside, I want this man here. And I want him here for more than a night. If only I can figure out a way to keep him out of my head... where, unlike the rest of me, I don't want him anywhere near, tonight or any other night.

Barring the horrifying possibilities of him from said head, I quickly brush my teeth, wash my face - and hands, though he did a thoroughly masterful job on one with his mouth - and pull my wild hair into a loose ponytail and head back out to my waiting guest.

I'm not surprised when I don't find him on my couch, though I'm a little nervous about where his inquisitive nature has taken him. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find him in the kitchen, with a slice of cold pizza in one hand and the other fiddling with the buttons of my coffee maker.

"Pizza and coffee?" I ask, leaning against the counter.

He eyes my covered-up appearance and frowns. "The coffee is for morning. I set it for eight, since I have a meeting at nine. And the pizza... it's the strangest thing... I wasn't at all hungry until I got in here and you gave me a taste of something. Now I'm starved."

"I don't recall giving you a taste of anything."

"Tomatoes, tomatos... "

"And what does your nine o'clock meeting have to do with my coffee maker?"

"Your coffee maker has graciously offered to indulge me before my meeting."

"Has it?"

"It has."

"Hearing voices again, are you?"

He laughs and takes a step towards me. "It's hard to hear anything over drum beat of sexual tension in the air. And your pounding heart."

I roll my eyes and watch him take a bite of his pizza. He even eats sexy...

But I'm sure as hell not telling him that. "Interesting... because all I hear is that infernal beeping again."

"Liar," he says, holding the pizza up to my mouth.

I shake my head and he touches the saucy slice to my lips, purposely getting it on me. "Oops."

I narrow my eyes at him as he pushes himself against me, pinning me to the counter, but he only smiles a devilish smile before his tongue slips out to lick the sauce from my lips.

"How's your pizza?" I ask, my heart pounding loudly in my own ears. He probably does hear it...

"Better suddenly. But still nowhere as good as you."

Really starting to regret not showering..."I'm really glad I don't hear beeping this time."

"I'm really glad you're starting to believe the things I say."

"My belief may be a little hope-inspired this time."

"Your hope is clear, but it's nice to hear you admit it. And, as I told you earlier, I would never in a million years ruin any that you have about me. There are many ways a man can tend to his prized land. I promise you, I'll be in no way neglectful of mine."

"Prized?"

"I know special when I see it, Bella. That's why I didn't waste time claiming it."

"And is that often? That you see and claim special?"

"No. This is only the second time... and actually, I was wrong about the first."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Bella. It was a good lesson for me. Taught me how to see inside of people better. Hear things they don't say. Don't want to say. Things they try to hide. I'm a better man for it. And better at my job."

How did I know he was going to say that? And why can I not care about what that could mean for me?

Because you're fucked no matter what, and you might as well enjoy yourself before the ax falls.

And because when he drops his slice of pizza back into the open box and his hands lift me onto the counter and cup around my face, I don't give a damn about anything but the feel of him. And that I want to feel more.

"Why does my job make you so nervous, Bella?"

"It doesn't," I say, willing my trapped-by-his eyes not to betray me.

"I think it does."

"I think you just want it to make me nervous. Maybe it makes you feel powerful and intimidating. You probably get off on that."

"Or maybe I underestimated you and you really do have bodies under your porch."

"Maybe," I smile sweetly.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Well, unless their lives were ended by your vicious kitten-accomplice here, and you were merely trying to protect him out of motherly love, I'm still not buying it."

I lean forward, having been allowed the space to do so, and follow his downward gaze to see Figaro once again attacking his untied laces with a vengeance.

"You're accusing my innocent cat of murder because you don't know how to tie your shoes? Really, Agent Cullen, you should be ashamed of yourself. And you will quite deserve it if he forgets the laces and moves on to your flesh."

"Don't project your fantasies on to your innocent cat, Bella. The only one here that wants my flesh is you. Now who should be ashamed?"

"Still you. Your arrogance knows no bounds. And neither do your horrendous manners. Your space issues aside, you invited yourself for dinner - and coffee - mere hours after you moved into my territory, which you trespassed all over - for the zillionth time, I might add - by creeping outside of my bedroom window in the middle of the night, and then upon being caught - or demanded to be noticed - forced your way inside-"

"There's no damage to your front door. No forced entry. Evidence proves that I was let in, after mere hours earlier being invited in, after being ogled while up a tree... Should I continue?"

"You should let me go back to sleep, which you so rudely woke me from with your stalking."

"You mean let you get back to dreaming about me. That's understandable, I suppose, but unnecessary. I'm right here, Bella. And while I heard with my own ears how incredible I was in your dream, I promise you I'm even better in the flesh."

"And unfortunately for you, I'm going to take you at your word this time. Goodnight, Edward."

"Of all times for you to believe me... Ah, well... "

He wrangles free of Figaro, and lifts me down from the counter, grabbing my hand in one of his and his unfinished slice of pizza in the other. He turns to face me when we reach the front door, and pulls me into a dizzying kiss. "Goodnight, Bella. Sweet dreams."

I stand breathless in the doorway as he walks down my porch steps. He looks up at me when he reaches the bottom, and his genuine, no-trace-of-cocky smile melts my insides.

"Lock the door, beautiful. See you at eight."

7:55 am

Why do I feel like I'm fifteen years old waiting for my first kiss?

No...

That kiss was dreadful. As were the next few after it.

Until I was sixteen and discovered the lips of Jasper Whitlock.

There was nothing dreadful about that...

And I never thought anything could top it...

Until yesterday.

And last night...

Well, this morning, technically...

Something topped it.

Topped it and drop-kicked it into the stratosphere...

Someone...

Edward Cullen.

Who'll be here in...

"Knock, knock."

The front door is open, because Figaro is romping around outside, but instead of walking through it, he stands at the threshold waiting to be invited in.

And, fuck me...

Edward Cullen in jeans was sex on a stick.

Edward Cullen in sweats was whipped cream on top of said stick.

But Agent Edward Cullen in a suit...

He should just cuff me now. Cuff me and...

"Good morning, beautiful. Are you okay?"

"Okay? Have you seen you?"

"Yes," he chuckles, "The mirror I found, it was the coffee maker that continues to hide from me."

"Ahhh." So that's why. And here I thought...

"Which I'm grateful for. And even if I'd found it, I'd still rather be here, and have my coffee with you."

Maybe... "So, are you hungry? I've got some bacon frying, but I wasn't sure how you liked your eggs... "

"You're making me breakfast?"

"I can be sweet sometimes."

"I already knew that."

I ignore the devilish implication in his tone and drain the bacon on a plate. "So... eggs?"

He turns me around as soon as I've pulled the last piece from the pan and kisses me deeply, his clean, fresh scent washing over me, as his mouth threatens to take my legs from under me.

"Scrambled," he murmurs against my lips, as his hands cup possessively over my ass, "If that's okay."

"Perfect. Your eggs will match my brain."

"You're getting much better at speaking your mind, Miss Swan."

"You're getting better at remembering your manners, Mr. Cullen. Or, you were, anyway, before you invaded my personal space again."

"You told me you wanted me in your space. Last night. You even said it out loud. Did you forget?"

"Perhaps."

"Then it's a good thing you have me to remember what you want."

He gives me a firm squeeze and then lets go, sighing deeply as he opens the correct-on-the-first-try cabinet door and pulls out two coffee mugs. We both move to the refrigerator at once, and he opens the door and reaches in, pulling out the carton of eggs and butter and putting them in my hands, before grabbing the milk and my coffee creamer.

He sets the milk on the counter next to where I've set the eggs, and proceeds to pour two cups of coffee, even adding the cream to mine before sliding it towards me.

"How did you know about that?" I ask him, more than a little shocked.

"I saw it last night. I pay attention to things, Bella. Aren't you figuring that out about me yet?"

I take a sip of my coffee and smile. "Yeah, I am. And you got it just right, thank you."

"I'm glad. You're welcome."

"No jabs?"

"About?"

"My frou frou cream?"

"Not at all. You're entitled to drink your coffee any way you like. Did someone try to tell you otherwise?"

"Maybe once." Or hundreds of times... though he drank his with his disgusting Vitamin D sludge and a pound of sugar... pussy.

Dead pussy.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here anymore. And don't ever worry about that repeating itself... while I intend to be both, I would never propose to tell you what you should do. Or like."

"Honorable, yet dishonorable, intentions?"

"Tomatoes, tomatos... "

Two car doors slam out front just as Edward and I are heading through the living room. He's leaving a few minutes early, because he frustratingly still hasn't been given the name of who he's supposed to be meeting with this morning, and wants to make a call.

My eyes go wide as we reach the door and Alice and Jasper are coming up the porch steps. Wide, as Alice's are as hers fall on my early morning guest. Jasper's are more what you'd call narrow, and he's the first to speak, as he leans down to kiss my not-on-the-side-of-Edward cheek. "Good morning, sweetheart. Who's this?"

Edward's grip on my hand tightens, as he undoubtedly recognizes the distinctly southern voice from my machine.

"Good morning, dears," I say with a chuckle, as he now releases my nearly-crushed hand and tucks his arm around my waist instead. "What's up?"

Alice giggles at the tension, kisses a dagger-shooting Jasper on the cheek, then me, and flutters into the house. "I used Jasper's car last night to go on a junk food run and must have left the lights on... His battery is dead, so he has to take mine to work. He has a meeting with some supposedly really cocky FBI asshole, Edward something-or-other, in a few minutes, and I didn't want to be stuck at home all day, so I told him to drop me off here on his way. That's okay, right?"

I cover my mouth, but it doesn't do a thing to conceal my laughter as I look at Edward and see his jaw twitch.

"What's so funny?" Alice asks, "And Bella, stop being rude and introduce us to your friend."

I ignore Alice for a moment and smile at Edward, who is glaring suspiciously at me. And rightfully so, I suppose... "Did I leave out that Jasper was a detective?"

"You did," he answers, without a trace of amusement in his tone.

"Hmmm... must have slipped my mind... Well, I suppose an introduction might help matters now... Alice, Jasper... this is my new neighbor, and... uh... friend... or whatever, Agent Edward Cullen. And Edward... these are my oldest and dearest friends, Detective Jasper Whitlock, and his wife - whose mouth has no filter - Alice Brandon-Whitlock. And um... this is just a hunch... but I think perhaps you boys have a meeting together in a few minutes."

Alice's mouth is dropped open so wide that you could fit a baseball into it, but she covers it before I can find one, and Edward and Jasper are immobile, too busy staring each other down to bother with the formalities of a handshake. I'm still trying to control my laughter, because even though it probably shouldn't be, this awkward situation is damn funny to me. But I know Edward doesn't see the humor in it...

And Jasper seems to have other things on his mind. "New neighbor since when?"

"Since yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"Yep. Came home from your place and there he was."

"And he's in your house this early in the morning?"

"Yes, detective, he is."

"Why is he?"

"What was it you told me before I left last night? That someday something could happen... when I least expected it... That was it, right? Something like that?"

His eyes move from the Maybe you were right glimmer of mine to settle on Edward's possessive grip around my waist.

And that's where they stay.

I shake my head in exasperation and look up at Edward, whose unwavering gaze is still on him, and is now unmistakably cocky.

Men and their egos...

I look next to Alice, who seems to be recovering from her bad first impression, and who I know would like a chance to rectify it. She clears her throat softly, and reaches her hand out to Edward. "It's very nice to meet you, Edward. I apologize for calling you an asshole before... it was childish and undeserved... please forgive me, and forget I ever said it... I'm willing to beg."

He gives her a wink and shakes her outstretched hand. "No need to beg, Alice. Think nothing of it. We really cocky FBI assholes know how the local department boys feel about us having to come in and solve their cases for them. And we don't take offense."

She opens her mouth to respond, but closes it without saying anything, and snatches her hand away from him, cocking her brow at me. I give her a But look at him shrug and the corners of her mouth turn up just enough to tell me that she gets it, loud and clear. And that boys will be boys, and that we should let them be, so that we can be girls...

"Don't you two men have somewhere to be?" she asks.

"That we do," Edward smiles, "As I understand it, your husband needs my help catching a killer."

So, that is why he's here...

"I don't need your help, Agent Cullen," Jasper spits, "It's being shoved down my throat. But if you're as good as word says you are, and you think you are, then let's get to work."

Edward gives me a squeeze and lets go, gesturing to the door. "After you, Detective."

"Cocky or not, at least you know the order of things around here. All things."

"Jasper Allen Whitlock!" Alice and I yell in unisoned shock.

He turns around somewhat guiltily, knowing if his mother were here, she'd already be running for a switch.

But Edward, whose jaw twitches briefly, doesn't waste time on his irritation. "I don't place much value on how things start. Any cocky fool can take an early lead. All that matters to me is who's got what it takes to claim the prize at the finish. And the glory."

The glory...

Fuck me, the glory...

And cocky Agent Edward Cullen with his shamelessly cocky, glory-claiming mouth...

That I will have all over me...

Soon.

Very soon.

Before the ax falls.

And his glory comes from...

...

Yeah, don't even say it, Bella...

And don't assume the 'nature' of things is forever changed by Edward's arrival. Catwoman was already catnapping... I don't see any harm in letting her purr for a bit.