A/N: Ok this has been dancing around in my head so I am going to put it out there as a teaser for the next story. My husband is not going to be happy with me but I want to continue this story just a little more... I'm posting it at the end of Pictures of you and will also upload this as chapter one of the new story.

BPOV

Sunday, not exactly my day of rest. Sunday afternoons were designated by me as clean up time. I changed the sheets on the bed, I dusted, I vacuumed, and I cleaned the bathrooms. I was disturbingly OCD about it. My husband, on the other hand, liked to spend Sundays doing anything other than cleaning. Edward liked to play on Sundays. Hell, Edward liked to play everyday but the weekends, when I was home, were his favorite play days. If he wasn't convincing me to go to some sporting event, he would entice me to go out and explore the city with him. He loved to hang out by the lakefront in the summer. In the fall we would try out new restaurants and visit little galleries and museums. Last winter he wanted to go ice skating on State Street every weekend. I had a feeling we would be doing a lot of that this winter as well. If we didn't go out, he would make me play games with him. Sometimes he would invite Renee and Phil over and we would get into pretty intense Scene It games. Guys against girls were usually the teams, unless he really wanted to win and then he would team up with my mother. Those two had like psychic powers when it came to Pictionary. Sometimes he would draw like a line and she would guess Eiffel Tower. What the hell? Today, however, he was working. Working on a Sunday was making him a little grumpy. He had to get some pictures edited and emailed to the editor of Chicago Magazine by Monday morning. He was sitting at the breakfast bar overly focused on his laptop. It was making him grumpy.

I moved the picture of my sweet niece so I could run the duster over the end table. Lily was the most adorable three month old ever. She had blond fuzz on top of her head. I figure some day she'll have gorgeous golden blond hair like her mother. She had the cutest dimples, just like her father. I hated that we lived so far away from Emmett, Rosalie, and Lily. We saw them soon after Lily was born at the end of July but wouldn't be seeing her again until Thanksgiving, another month from now. Both Edward and I were excited about seeing everyone in L.A. for Thanksgiving. Esme was planning a huge family weekend. I was glad we were going to get to spend some time somewhere warm, Chicago would be getting cold by then. I finished dusting and started spritzing the house plants with water. I flopped on the couch when I finished.

Edward was so serious. He was running his hand through his hair and sighed before tapping on the computer again. I was still holding the water bottle and started twisting the tip that adjusted how the water came out. It had been on mist but I moved it so it would come out in one thin line. I pointed it up trying to arch it just right. I squeezed the trigger and I watched the stream shoot up and fall just short of where Edward was sitting. I let out a quiet giggle. He didn't notice, too wrapped up in his work.

"Honey, when are you going to be done so we can go out and do something," I was surprised at how much I liked when he took me out on my days off after I finished getting our place in order.

"I don't know. I have a lot to do, Bella," he answered distractedly.

Not a good answer. He needed to take a break. His famous saying, all work and no play makes me a dull boy, was all too true today. I tried again with the water bottle, pressing on the trigger a little harder. The stream shot up and I could see droplets of water hit the back of his chair. Again, he didn't notice. There would be no missing on my third attempt. I pressed down on the trigger and the water made a perfect arch landing smack on the top of Edward's bronze head.

"What the hell was that?" his hand shot up and touched his wet hair.

I threw my hand over my mouth the stop the loud guffaw.

"Did you just shoot that water at me?" he turned around and glared at me, his emerald eyes almost glowing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing," I lied. He turned back around and went back to his photos.

I waited a minute and then shot again. Another perfect hit.

He turned around fast, "Bella, what the fuck?" He was mad but I couldn't help thinking it was so fucking funny. I tried to control my expression.

"Sorry,"

"Bullshit. I'm trying to work here, you know. Go finish your fucking chores or something," he spun back around and rubbed his hand on top of his head and then wiped the dampness on his jeans. I felt a little guilty but since he was demanding I finish my 'chores', like I was his housemaid or something, I was going to continue messing with him. I shot him again.

He didn't move but angrily spit, "Cut. It. Out. Isabella."

Oh, my full name. He was pissed. I shot him again.

Silence.

I shot him again.

Nothing.

One more time. The next thing I knew he was on his feet and lunging towards me. I sprung from the couch and ran around to the other side of it so it was between me and him.

"You're unarmed and I am fully loaded," I reminded him as I pointed the water bottle at his face.

He was breathing hard and his face was flushed. His eyes were almost black. He was going to kill me. There was nothing to do but go on the offensive. I shot him several times right in the face as he ran around the couch and I ran the opposite way. He was unfazed by my relentless attack. He threw one arm up to block and moved swiftly. I was quick but I was wearing socks and he was barefoot, giving him the advantage. I pulled a chair behind me as I ran towards the hallway trying to get to the bedroom before he caught me. Edward deftly maneuvered around the chair and was hot on my heels. I made it to the bedroom and tried to close the door but he was too close. I ran the far side of the room holding my water bottle like I held my gun at the range. He walked into the room slowly. He knew he had me cornered. I shot at him as he moved towards me. I tried to get around his hand and in his face as much as possible.

"I would stop now if you want to come out of this alive, Isabella," he warned. His voice was low and surprisingly menacing. I could feel my heart beating faster as the thrill of the chase was invigorating. He dropped his hand fractionally and I shot him right in the eye making him shout out. His hand flew up to his face and he fell on the bed. I took that opportunity to run out of the room and back in the living room, putting the couch between myself and where he would appear from the bedroom.

I waited. My breathing was labored. I couldn't get the smile off my face. Two minutes passed and he didn't come out of the bedroom. My smile faded.

"Are you ok back there?" I shouted. I didn't mean to hurt him. I wasn't aiming for his eye. Could water do real damage? Shit. What if I just blinded him or something? He didn't answer.

"Edward, seriously, are you ok? I didn't mean to hit you in the eye."

Nothing. Shit. He was probably hurt and now was really was mad at me.

I started walking back to the bedroom.

"Come on, talk to me. I'm totally sorry. You can shoot me in the eye if you want to," I offered as I pushed the bedroom door open. Maybe he was pouting. Edward tended to pout when he lost at anything. I had to hide the controllers for our Wii for a week as punishment for his poor sportsmanship after he lost to me in boxing one night. He wasn't on the bed.

"Baby?" I walked into the room feeling enormously guilty. I was trying to lighten his mood and now we were probably going to have to go to the ER or something and he was going to have to wear an eye patch. Nice work, Bella.

The next thing I knew, I was blinded by a foamy spray of shaving cream. Edward had burst out of the bathroom and covered my face in his fucking Barbasol. It was everywhere, in my eyes, up my nose, in my mouth, in my hair.

"Gross!" I spit out the disgusting tasting foam and tried to wipe it out of my eyes.

"You so deserved that," Edward laughed. He rubbed the shaving cream into my hair, making it a sticky, matted mess.

"You are probably right," I agreed as I wiped some more of it out of my eyes so I could see him and his adorable smile. " I was just trying to get you out of your foul mood. You and work on Sunday do not mix."

"You thought squirting me with water when I was trying to meet a deadline was going to put me in a good mood?" He looked at me with a scrunched up face.

"Ok, maybe not my best idea. It was improving my mood, so..." I confessed.

Edward took a long finger and swiped some shaving cream from my face. Then he stroked the same finger down my nose. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of it.

"Next time you could try something like taking off your clothes. That would have improved my mood and been very entertaining," he brushed his thumb over my mouth.

My husband was so hot. Even after creaming me, all I wanted to do was make out with him.

"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," I stammered. The shaving cream was luckily covering up my blushing cheeks.

"I've got to get a picture of this," he snickered and he was out the door to get his camera. No way in hell I was going to get my picture taken like this, he would email it to everyone we knew.

I quickly pulled my shirt over my head and slipped out of my jeans and panties. I was desperately trying to unhook my bra after I turned the shower on. I could hear Edward shout something that sounded like NO! I got my bra off but the water was still running cold. Damn it. I was going to have to go in. I jumped in the shower and it literally took my breath away.

"Shit! You little -" Edward huffed as he made his way back in the bathroom.

I had goosebumps all over my body from the cold water. My teeth were chattering. It slowly went from cold to warm. I rinsed the shaving cream from my hair and face.

Edward pulled open the shower curtain.

"Hey!" I screamed covering myself as if it was indecent for my husband to see my naked body. It wasn't him as much as it was his camera that made my extremely modest.

"Well, this will make for even better pictures," he winked.

"No, no, no, no," I shook my head furiously.

"You're right, no still photos. This calls for video," he started messing with the buttons on his camera.

I pulled the curtain closed, "Absolutely not!"

I could hear him laughing so hard he snorted. He was such a pain in my ass about pictures. He still loved taking pictures of me. In fact, at his last gallery show he surprised me by having three photos of me from our honeymoon on display. They were beautiful photos of me in the ocean but the thought of someone other than Edward owning a picture of me was a little unnerving. I began washing my hair and enjoying the heat of the water. The curtain pushed open again and I was ready to pull his fucking camera into the shower with me. How would he like that? But Edward was not holding his camera. Edward was standing there naked and was stepping in to join me.

"Both of us are unarmed, Detective," he said raising his hands in the air.

I smiled and stepped back to make some room for him under the water. My husband and I love being in the bathroom together.

We were lying in our bed as clean as the clean sheets I had put on a few hours ago. Edward had me wrapped up in his arms. My favorite place to be. People had warned me that marriage changed people. That your overly attentive boyfriend would suddenly turn into a selfish, neglectful husband once the honeymoon was over. My husband was the exception to the rule. Edward was always doing sweet things for me. He would get up and make me breakfast in the mornings before work. He would bring home flowers for no particular reason. Edward was a good husband, a great friend, and an incredible lover. I could not ask for more.

I was drifting in and out, exhausted from our play. Edward's breathing was slow and steady and his heartbeat was lulling me to sleep like my own personal lullaby. My nap was interrupted by the annoying ringing of Edward's phone. He sighed and set me gently on the pillow as he got up to get it.

"Hey Renee," I heard him say as he walked out of the bathroom after retrieving his phone from his jeans.

My mother. Edward's biggest fan. They talked on the phone all the time. Sometimes she asked to talk to me but usually not. They would talk about nothing and everything all at the same time. They both watched the same shows on TV and would discuss things like who should be voted of Survivor next. Shit that did not interest me at all. I was grateful for her in that respect. At least he didn't have to torture me with that mind numbing nonsense.

"What? No, I'll turn it on right now," he hurriedly walked over to the bedside table and snatched the TV remote off of it. He turned on the small TV we had in the bedroom and started flipping through the channels.

"What? Did someone drop a cake on Cake Boss again?" I teased. It was always something like that with the two of them.

He didn't smile or laugh. Edward's face looked, worried.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a shaky voice. I didn't like this. Something was wrong but I couldn't figure out why my mom would be sharing bad news with him. He finally stopped at CNN and turned the volume up.

On the screen was a picture of a burning vehicle and a lot of police and firemen around it. On the bottom were the words - Seattle, WA - LIVE.

"No one is confirming anything but we are told that people believe the car belonged to the Assistant DA. Many people who work at the courthouse state that Mr. Cullen drove a white jeep similar to the one you see on the screen right now," the news reporter commented. I sat straight up and covered my mouth with my hand as Edward dropped the controller on the floor with a loud clunk.

"Edward," I said reaching out for him. He sat on the bed and handed me the phone.

"Mom, we have to call you back," I said trying to listen to the news and wrap my arms around my husband.

"Ok, just call me back when you find something out. Oh, Isabella. I hope that it's not his brother," Renee was crying. Something she hadn't done for several months.

"We will. I love you," I don't know why I said that. It wasn't my usual way of parting with her but in this moment it seemed like I needed to say it.

"Love you, both, bye."

I hung up and pressed my cheek against the back of Edward's shoulder. We were both frozen, staring at the TV.

"Mr. Cullen has spent the greater part of the last year putting away members of the Volturi crime family. Tomorrow the trial for Aro Volturi is set to begin. We are not sure what impact this will have on the case if it turns out to be Mr. Cullen in the car. Mr. Cullen is not prosecuting as it is a federal case but he was involved in many aspects of the case. His wife, Rosalie Cullen, formerly Rosalie Hale, daughter of the hotel tycoon Howard Hale, was actually abducted a little over a year ago in attempt to obtain a diamond necklace for Mr. Volturi by another member of the DA's office. Mr. Cullen has worked relentlessly to see to it that everyone involved in the Volturi's organization has been brought to justice. Again, we have no confirmation of who was in the vehicle or to whom the vehicle belongs but there is strong speculation that this car bombing has something to do with the Assistant DA and the Volturi case. We will keep you updated as more information is released."

I couldn't speak. I could only stare at the burning vehicle. What the hell was Emmett doing downtown on a Sunday? Probably had to go in and talk to someone about the trial tomorrow. Maybe it's not him. We need to call him, call Rosalie. I grabbed up Edward's phone again and pressed the button to call Emmett's cell. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. Fuck. I hung up and dialed Rosalie. She had to answer me.

It rang three times and then I heard her voice, "Edward, I can't talk right now, I'll call you back,"

Then she hung up. No answers. What the hell was going on?