A/N - Flanny and the Freak would like to thank Sue the Beta Fairy and Jkane180 for fixing our crimes against grammar. Perry was away this week, but we'd also like to thank her for mentioning us in her latest chapter of Unrequited (which you should totally read).

Chapter 3 - "The Price of Pudding"

Edward

I woke in a panic. Bella still wasn't awake, I had to be at the precinct to turn a shitload of paperwork in, and there was just no way I could leave her there like that - lying in my bed, with full on access to my apartment. Cute as she was with her hair all in disarray, I was having daydream/nightmare-type thoughts of Risky Business when Tom Cruise,in all his tighty whitey dancing glory, got robbed blind by Rebecca De Mornay and Joe Pantoliano.

And he'd even warned her.

Don't steal anything. If I come back here and anything's missing, I'm going straight to the police. I mean it.

I couldn't exactly pull that line. I was the police!

I steeled myself and breathed in, then let it out slowly.

After my shower, Bella still wasn't awake. In fact, she was out cold... with pudding encrusted around her lips. I decided in the end, a face like that couldn't possibly have been anything but sweet.

After I'd gotten dressed and finished a gallon-sized bowl of Golden Crisps cereal, she was still snoring, so I did the only thing there was left to do.

I called Alice.

From the cruiser I'd left back where Hooker Bella had first caught my eye.

Hooker-ella?

Bella the hooker?

Just Bella, dumb ass.

"Morning, Edward."

"Alice, ya' gotta help me."

"What's wrong? You sound..."

"I'm freaking out right now."

"Oh my god, why?"

"I..."

Fuck. What was I gonna say? That the hooker I told her about the night before had actually been a great conversationalist? That she had a terrific sense of humor and made me feel more comfortable on the walk back to my place than any girl I'd met thus far... and then gave me a handjob in the foyer of my apartment How she ate pudding like it was the last bit of food on Earth and made me wanna brush the hair out of her face and put my lips on hers for as long as she'd let me?

She'd think I was nuts.

And then she'd kick my ass for putting my job in jeopardy like that.

But it was Alice. We'd shared pretty much everything going on in our lives with each other since we could walk and talk, save for a few instances regarding her college days, and honestly, if I didn't tell someone about my predicament soon, I was gonna explode.

Exploding pudding... Bella's pudding face... Bella's hands on my pudding... I mean jizz...

Shit.

"Edward?"

"Alice... I..."

"Hold on. I'm getting another call."

"No, Alice, wait!"

Shit.

I hung up and dialed her again, but got a "no signal" error message, so I started the cruiser up and headed toward work. I was so late, but, luckily I lived fairly close to work so it wasn't gonna be that big of a deal.

Hopefully.

Once I'd parked and signed in, I made my way to the privacy of a conference room and called Alice again.

"Is that you? I'm so sorry. A friend of mine was having a crisis."

"That's nice, Alice. Listen, I really fucked up last night..."

I was gonna tell her. I swear. But just as I was about to spill the beans, my commanding officer entered the room, interrupting me. "Cullen, did you get that payroll paperwork done? The Commissioner needs it today."

Fuuuuuuuck me!

I breathed out in frustration.

"Edward? Are you okay? What could you possibly have done that was that bad?"

She laughed. She always did say I overreacted to things, especially when it came to work and women... but this? She just had no idea.

I nodded to my commanding, and he gave me his own personal version of the universal sign for "get off the fucking phone and get your work done," so I told Alice, "Listen, I really need to talk to you. Can we do dinner later?"

"Um... I'll have to check and..."

"Great, I'll see you then."

I ended the call with my sister, smiled at the officer waiting for me to get back to my job, and made a beeline for my desk, where I spent the better part of the morning humping my ass to get duplicates and triplicates of forms filed before heading over to police headquarters.

Commissioner Swan's office building was so much nicer than the one I worked in. I mean hell, even the area where the convicts sat and waited for their demise was nicer than the Captain's office over at my precinct.

I was admiring everything about the place, from its marble floors to its high ceilings, when I happened to catch a glimpse of a very familiar face sitting not so far away, and I just about dropped the entire stack of papers I was carrying.

Hooker-ella looked so different from the night before: not so much make-up, a little more conservative on the attire, and her hair was... quite normal looking.

Not Hookerish at all, actually.

Wonder if she was role playing when she got picked up. Maybe playing a high school dropout for some sick fuck wanting to get his rocks off.

I absentmindedly mumbled, thinking about someone touching her like that. "Assholes."

"Excuse me?" the receptionist asked, and I jerked my eyes away from Bella to look down at the woman who was now annoyed as hell with me, while I started trying to organize my pile of papers again.

"Um... no, sorry, I wasn't talking to..." I shook my head. "Is Commissioner Swan in? I have some things to drop off for him."

"Edward?"

Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! It was Bella... she'd seen me... and she said my name. I couldn't let anyone in that building know that Bella knew me.

Shit. I told the receptionist I'd be right back and stacked the papers on the edge of her desk before practically running over to where Bella was seated and whispering a hello to her.

"What are you doing here?"

I looked around us to see if anyone was paying attention. They didn't seem to be, and I barked out a nervous laugh before telling her, "I was just gonna ask you the same thing..."

I leaned in a little closer. "You're not here because of me, are you?"

She snorted. "Cocky much?"

It was then that her name struck me like a paperweight being flung across the room at my head with the precision of an AK bomber.

Swan.

As in, Chief Commissioner Swan?

No way.

She couldn't be related... Fuck me, what if she was related? What if she was one of those goody two shoes type women by day for daddy, hooker by night?

Oh no... fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.

"Shit, Bella... you didn't get into trouble because of..." I made a face, and she scowled in confusion while chewing on that bottom lip of hers, and suddenly, all I could think about was her mouth: eating pudding, licking lips... she was really, really good at licking lips.

Just like that, I was a little too distracted with my own sick fantasies about her mouth and that sexy voice of hers to worry too much about anything else.

I'd seriously never met anyone as beautiful as her before.

Fuck me.

No, seriously, Bella, fuck me.

Shit.

Bella

The subway ride from Chelsea to Battery Park was unbearable as the train lurched forward every few minutes only to come to a grinding halt seconds later. Gravity evaded me, and I spun gracelessly around the pole I clung to like a ragdoll stripper. I swear, the Brooks Brothers asshole to my right gawked at me like he wanted to drop a single in my g-string. The lights flickered, and I wiped my sweaty palms over my jacket.

Today was one of those kind of days I should've ponied up cab fare. Yeah, I totally could have taken the money Edward had left for me . . . It seemed wrong, though. Like I'd be acting like a whore or something.

You're overreacting. He doesn't think you're a whore.

Maybe I'd offended him by falling asleep?

Gah! I had to stop thinking about it. Obviously he was emotionally disturbed. Normal men didn't leave thank you notes for handjobs.

Actually, that was kind of sweet . . . or at least it would have been if he'd left his phone number rather than cash. The money was just . . . weird.

By the time I reached the Chambers Street stop, my phone vibrated incessantly with message notifications. Letting go of the pole I'd been inadvertently dry-humping, I pushed through the throngs of commuters to make my exit.

"Asshole!" I cursed, pushing a jerk in a black suit out of my way.

"Sorry." His eyes widened, like he obviously having no idea why I was so belligerent. This was New York, though; I probably wasn't the first person to curse at him today, and I'd bet a certain 50-dollar bill that I wouldn't be the last.

"No, I'm sorry," I called over my shoulder, stepping onto the platform. "It's one of those days, you know?"

I didn't wait for his reply.

Taking the stairs two at a time out of the station and into harsh daylight, I pressed my Bluetooth in my ear and dialed Rosalie.

"Where are you?" Her voice sounded agitated. "Your father is flipping out."

"I know," I huffed out, removing my ridiculous heels and stuffing them into my over-sized purse. "Three minutes away."

"Where's the statement you prepared for Bloomberg?"

"On my laptop. Why?"

"Get your shit together, Bella," Rosalie snapped as I nearly tripped over an old woman who randomly decided to sit on the sidewalk to rummage through her purse.

"Bloomberg? I have a conference call this afternoon with the lawyer so they can vet it."

"Well, that's not good enough for them. They keep calling for the PD's official statement about, and I quote, 'the allegations that taxpayers' money is being wrongfully allocated to payroll, fattening the pockets of the corrupt-'"

"Jesus, Rose. Just tell them no comment until I get there, okay?" I gasped for air as I climbed the steps to the First Precinct. "Also, I need a change of clothes and any make-up you have with you . . . don't ask why."

I stepped inside the front office, and Rosalie still yammered into her phone at me, letting it drop to her side as we made eye-contact.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

"I'm dressed like a jizz-stained vixen wearing a man's leather jacket. What, you don't like the look?" I opened the jacket and twirled.

"Get in the bathroom before someone sees you!"

"Edward?" My voice came across as a meek whisper, but only because I was astonished. How did he find me? Had he come to apologize?

Edward's reaction was strange - he squinted his eyes as if trying to place me from somewhere (asshole!) and then tried to duck behind a potted tree.

I placed my hands on my hips and tapped my foot, the international signal for "I'm waiting for an explanation; I don't have all day."

"What are you doing here?" I said finally, tired of watching him do that weird spastic-fidgety thing he seemed to do.

He muttered something to Leah at reception and giggled, the tone becoming almost manic as he approached me. "I was just gonna ask you the same thing..." His head dipped down to look me in the eyes, and my traitor of a stomach flip-flopped at the sudden proximity of his mouth.

Kiss me! my mind screamed in a fit of total irrationality. I couldn't make out with a cop; it was a conflict of interest. Fuck me fuck me fuck me! Huh. Ethics be damned; my mind was also a slut. My conscience probably resembled a tiny drunk monkey, humping a tree and throwing poop.

Edward leaned in even closer, and I parted my lips, dragging my tongue across my mouth in preparation for his kiss.

Except, rather than kiss me, he spoke. "You're not here because of me, are you?"

Asshole! "Cocky much?"

"Shit, Bella... you didn't get into trouble because of..." His face scrunched up like he was suppressing a fart. Why did he think I was in trouble? Had he heard about the Bloomberg fiasco? Bad news did tend to travel fast.

"I'm not in trouble," I insisted. "I'm just working some stuff out with the lawyer before I make a statement. Wait, how did you know about my job?"

"Your outfit." He looked away from me.

That made no sense. He knew I was the Communications Director for the NYPD because of my suit? "That makes no sense," I repeated . . . out loud this time, since he probably couldn't read my mind.

"Are you seriously gonna have to testify? Do you..." He skipped a beat, like he was truly worried about something and then finished his sentence off, finally. "Do you think I will?" He raked his hands through his hair, creating tufts that resembled devil horns. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

"Okay! I mean, what? Why would you have to testify? No one will. The funds weren't misspent."

His eyebrows shot up, and he turned our bodies together so that no one else could hear him. "You didn't take the money?"

"Of course I didn't! What kind of person do you think I am?" My eyes burned from a sudden onslaught of tears. Did he just accuse me personally of embezzling?

"Oh, shit, Bella, fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry... all you ever did was give me the best handjob of my life... and I'm a dick."

"Forget about it!" I turned away from him, rubbing my lower lashlines with my index finger so my freshly-applied make-up wouldn't run.

"I'm just . . . I'm really confused here, ya' know? I mean, I like you, Bella. Shit, I like you a lot... I just wish I didn't because, well, for obvious reasons."

I shook my head. "If you're done belittling me, could you just leave?"

"Just... tell me why didn't you take the money? Was it not enough? I have more."

My eyes narrowed into razors. "I didn't take the money, Edward Mason, because . . ." Wait, were we talking about the payroll money now or the cab fare he left for me? This conversation was giving me whiplash. "Because I don't steal."

He looked at me funny all of a sudden and backed away as if to get a better look at what I was wearing. "Hey, is that my jacket?"

"Except for this jacket. I stole this jacket. You can't have it back."

"It looks better on you than me." He smiled.

"Thanks," I muttered, looking at my feet. I couldn't be held accountable for my reaction if I looked into those mesmeric hazel eyes of his. I mean, why were they so beautiful, anyway? Hazel was a stupid color - not quite brown, and not quite green. Pick a fucking color!

"Listen... I think I..." He sighed, frustrated, then started over again. "I really need to see you again. I mean, can I? Did I blow this? Do you wanna have sex with me?"

My jaw dropped, and he closed his eyes tight while he shook his head, baffled by his own idiocy. "Coffee... do you wanna have coffee with me?"

"I . . ." I didn't know what to say. Actually, I knew exactly what I should say, but the thought of never seeing him again left a tight ache in my chest that was all kinds of irrational. "You blew it, Edward."

"Right, okay... Yeah, I can see that." He cupped my chin in his hand for a second and then turned away, slouching his shoulders. "See you 'round, Cum-Swan."

"Wait!" I called. "You didn't let me finish." I grabbed him by the elbow, and he spun around to face me.

"Yeah?"

"You blew it, but I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Yeah?" he repeated, grinning. "I wasn't sure you were a glutton for anything. Except pudding, that is."

"That too. And yeah, I'll give you another chance, even though it goes against my better judgment. Just one more, so don't be a douche this time." My phone buzzed before I could say anything else, and I noticed Leah in my periphery as she waved frantically from the reception desk, trying to get my attention. "I gotta go. Call me."

"Wait, I don't have your number!" he protested.

"Call me at the office." I shrugged.

"Uh . . . what?"

"Look, I gotta go. How about I just meet you outside of your apartment tomorrow night at eight. Does that work?"

"Sounds perfect," he said as I started to jog to the elevator bank behind the reception desk. "One more thing!"

I looked at my watch. "Yeah?"

"Are you related to Police Commissioner Swan?"

I nearly choked on the sudden bile that rose from my throat, my stomach burning. "Ah, no," I lied. "No relation."

A/N - Do you like pudding?