Thank you goes out to the great and wonderful Bornonhalloween for opening her floodgates of initial support and for her rec'ing of me on Facebook.

Also, special thanks goes to SunflowerFran3759 for her friending and rec'ing of me on Facebook.

Welcome to PAD's half-eaten bag of potato chips.

Stephenie Meyer owns the entire Twilight factory making them.

I just want a little of her salt to go with my vinegar.

Speechless in Seattle

A river runs through me, literally—I'm not wearing any underwear. As ridiculous as Edward looks right now decked out in my apron and a clothespin, there's nothing hotter than him doing housework. And, let's be honest here. This is Edward we're talking about. As smart as he is, I'm not sure he can find his way out of a paper bag sometimes, but to see him amidst a mopped floor—albeit now one with broken pottery shards—and a full drain board of clean dishes, well let's just say I wouldn't presently be opposed to his earlier groping and grinding.

I see that look in his eyes, the one that says, "Okay Bella, I have truly been emasculated enough for one day and am ready to call it quits" and know when to stop the ribbing as he really does put up with a lot of it from me.

I grab the dustpan and broom then proceed to sweep up the leavings.

As I pick up a large piece, my fingers glide over a slippery residue.

"Um, Edward, how much detergent did you use?"

"A half cup, why?"

I hide my horror and force a smile.

"No reason." I grit it nonchalantly through my teeth.

I know I'll be redoing these sometime soon but not in his presence. That much soap for one sinkful, even when, rinsed can cause liver dysfunction or blood poisoning among other things. I learned in marine biology that there are tons of chemicals left from detergents that linger even when rinsed. I fear the look I'll get from him if he knows he did them incorrectly. The important thing is, that he tried. I will not marginalize his efforts. That would be a major buzz-kill, not to mention an emphatic future deterrent for getting him to assist me in daily housework.

"Um, I'll be right back. I need to pee, then we can start on your room and maybe wash the curtains to get some of the smoke smell out. I'll shampoo the couch, rug, and living room chairs while you're in class tonight."

He gives me a bewildering look, whereas previously, he'd be high-fiving me and running out the door because I let him off the hook from chores.

"Bella, I created the situation; please let me help rectify it."

"Okay." I say it a little shakily and somewhat taken aback. Where is my Edward; was he abducted by aliens while I was out? We live really close to Alaska and all of their extraterrestrial activity. I make a mental note to start an inquisition of questions only the real Edward and I would know the answers to.

"Bella, it's only fair; you've always been there for me and do so much. I'm a real douche sometimes and take advantage of you. It's only right that I pitch in, considering it was my fuck-up to begin with. Please let me help."

His sincerity bursts through the dam, and now my river has just found another tributary.

I leave the kitchen, then grab a pair of panties out of the dryer and make my way to the bathroom. I see the Lysol out on the vanity and do a double take, a spotless john? Well, I'll be. Edward cleaned the toilet, sprayed air freshener, and put the seat down.

"Ouch!"

I just had to pinch myself.

It's a good thing I haven't already put on fresh bikinis. He's just full of surprises today. I always knew he would come around sometime, but I didn't think he'd start listening to me so soon.

Aw, I'm getting warm and fuzzy; he actually listened to me.

I've got to mark this one on the calendar and let Esme know—our "wittle" boy is growing up.

I return to the kitchen just as Edward is wiping down the sink. He's taken out the clothespin and removed the apron. He's also slipped on some Chucks and combed out the soap.

He really is a cutie. I've already spoken of his green eyes but failed to mention they rival that of a lush, Hawaiian tropical mountainside with morphing color that always creates new kaleidoscopic patterns.

Did I lay that on a little too thick?

Seriously though, he has mood rings for irises. You never get the same effect twice.

His hair, well that's something else entirely. It presents itself as coppery, contradictory, organized chaos. But as strange as that sounds, it just works well for him.

If he weren't so much like a brother, I'd want to jump his ass or maybe let him jump mine. On second thought, back up and nix that. As beautiful as he is, he's still Edward; and I need to snap out of it. There's no other explanation...I must be ovulating.

"Well, are you ready to start?"

"Sure. Tell me what to get."

Edward takes out the vacuum and shampooer. Surprisingly, we actually do a really great job together in near companionable silence. Both of us have our tunes piped through unmistakable white earbuds, yet despite our differing noise, we read each other quite well and manage to shampoo the furniture and the rug, then agree to wash the curtains later.

Edward took my direction really well and actually did most of the shampooing. I actually think he got off on doing it...well, not that kind of off, but you know what I mean.

It's already two o'clock, so I make us some lunch before hitting Edward's bedroom. I'm careful to avoid using the dishes, cups, and silverware Edward washed earlier, and he appears none the wiser. I made him a turkey and roast beef sub with vegetable works and freshly made creamy garlic dressing. He broke open a bag of salt and vinegar chips, then lifted the lid of his sandwich and proceeded with carefully place them atop the sandwich's contents before smashing the lid down and taking a bite rivaling that of a great white.

He really is fun to watch sometimes and just lives for food...among other things. I love the childlike expressions he displays whenever I make him something he exceedingly enjoys, and his oh's and ooh's and ah's make it even more worthwhile to cook for him. He never takes me for granted in that respect and is ever grateful I feed him well.

"Thanks, Bella, that was incredible as always. Mwah!"

He plants his trademark, messy kiss on my cheek. I think he got this from doing it to Esme. He's always been quite the charmer, and when he showed his appreciation that way towards her, she would be eating out of his hands. Edward knew this too, slick little devil that he is. But I know his game, and he knows I know it too. So he doesn't try to hide behind his witchery with me.

"Are you ready to start your room?"

"Sure. Um, do you want to go in there first to see if the, um, problem is visible?"

"Okay."

I oblige him without condescension. I know how debilitating his phobia is and would never ridicule him for it.

When Edward started grade school, there was a day the kids were absolutely merciless towards him. The first and only time he allowed himself to be teased was when we were in kindergarten. This transient kid, James, brought a tarantula in for show and tell and proceeded to place it on top of Edward's head. The class laughed so hard over the mean prank that it sent Edward screaming out of the room in tears. I ran into the boys' room after that and stayed there with him for over an hour rubbing his head and holding him close until the office staff could track Esme down to come pick him up.

I went back into class afterward and laid into everyone, even the teacher, Mrs. Higginbotham, which was kind of weird considering she was mom. (Before she was hired, my mom used her maiden name so it wouldn't seem weird when someday she would be teaching me.) There was just no call for that kind of cruelty, and I was real mad at her for letting things get out of hand.

After that, I could still see Edward break sweat and breathe deeply whenever an arachnid was near, but he always manned up when others were watching. I understood. Spiders to Edward were like snakes to me. If ever one were to cross my path, Edward would rectify the situation and humanely dispose of said creature. We always took care of each other in that way. That's why I'll always feel compelled to help him.

I make my way through the hall and open his door. What the... I don't think anything has ever rendered me this...completely...speechless.

A/N:

Next up, are you really ready for what's in Edward's bedroom?

Review me your words.

Special thanks to extraordinary Chayasara for helping me clean my room, a.k.a. these chapters. Although after reading the next one, she may not want to anymore.

Special thanks to Monica Solis, a.k.a. CaliGirlMon on FFN, for making my adorable banner.

Mwah!

Thank you for reading.

PAD