I'll Always Be Your Edward

For my fic sister Fran, and to all the wonderful writers and readers in this weird little place we call our fandom.

I lay in bed, shivering under the massive comforter, trying desperately to relax. I need sleep, but my mind is too full of random thoughts and worries. The wind outside alternately howls and shrieks, and the rain trots and tangos against the windowpane

I burrow my head under the pillow and sigh. This is going to be another very long and restless night.

Creeeeeeeeak ….

My heart leaps at the sound.

Woooooosh ….

And then, it calms. I lift my head out of the feathery depths and grin from ear to ear.

"You're home!"

"Yeah … She went to sleep mid-sentence, so I managed to catch a lucky break. I don't know how much time I have; she just had a baby a few months ago and she gets up a lot in the night. "He yawns.

He yawns?

"Wait, did I just see you yawn?"

"Yeah, I am tired as shit."

"Vampires aren't supposed to get tired, Edward."

"Yes, well most vampires don't have to put up with the kind of crap I have to go through day after day and night after night, either."

"You're also talking funny."


"Out of character. You don't normally say "Yeah," and use curse words unless you're human."

"I know, but she isn't sticking to canon in this story. She thinks I sound too 'stiff' and 'stilted.'"



He stretches his arms in front of him flexing his long, elegant fingers. I notice his nails are jagged and rough. He must have had quite a workout.

"Bad night?"

"You have no idea."

I pull the covers back and pat the mattress lightly.

"Tell me," I gesture.

He climbs in beside me and lays his head as gently as he can on my chest. I stroke his scalp and play with his coppery curls.

"Your hair is redder tonight," I murmur.

"Mmm-hmm, she isn't a fan of bronze," he grunts into my chest.

"But your eyes are golden, so at least you're still a vampire."

"Yes, for the time being. But she's toying with some half-assed idea of me turning back into a human. Christ on a cracker … As if that hasn't been done before."

"Yeah, that is so 2009," I agree. "But then again, so is Christ on a cracker. Let me guess; did she have you popping the P?"

"Yep," he says, popping the P for emphasis.

"So what's the plot of this story?"

"Sex, sex, and more sex. She doesn't give me her outline; hell she doesn't have an outline. She prefers to 'wing it,' as she writes. All I know is she plans to have 'lots of lemony goodness,'" he says, raising his hands in air quotes.

I collapse on the pillows laughing.

"I had to have anal sex with Emmett last night," he says, almost conversationally.

I sit up in bed with a start.

"Bornonhalloween? I thought she wasn't going to write any more of those pieces."

"She says she's not, but that chick from Australia is at it again."

"I thought her husband found her tablet and told her she was a perv and that she wasn't allowed to do that anymore."

"No, that was the woman from Illinois; toomanygameshows, I believe is her nom de plume, but her real name is Becky. She has four kids and five grandchildren and her husband falls asleep every night on the sofa watching Wheel of Fortune. She was bored out of her mind and looking for 'something to do online.' That's how she found me," He groans.

I chuckle lightly, lie back down, and resume stroking his hair.

"So, who was the writer from Australia?"


"No, she doesn't write anymore, Edward. Besides, I've never known her to write … well, you know," I say, wiggling my brows for effect.

"Slash," he informs me, importantly.

"Honestly; I can't remember one from the other anymore, and that is quite troubling since I have a vampire mind and memorization shouldn't be a problem, ditto for organization. But these women have had me in more scenarios and sexual positions this week alone that frankly, I don't know whether to shit or go blind."

I laugh at his ridiculous expression.

"Let me guess, jane-with-a-y updated?"

"Yeah, but she hasn't even written me into the damn story yet; she just wanted me to drop by to keep her company while she 'draws my character profile.'"

"What's this one about?"

"I don't even know … Something about a burger? All I know is that she hasn't started that 'Arc' of the story yet, but she did warn me that I was going to be 'Busy,' as soon as she gets 'Cranked,' whatever that means."

"I think that means I probably won't be seeing much of you this summer, Edward," I say quietly.

"I'm sorry, love."

"I know, I know you are," I say, ruffling my fingers through his hair.

"Do you realize how many different 'Wards' I've been since I first began in 2005?"

"How many?"

"More than I can actually count, which is truly frightening. But let's see …










Arrangedward …"

"Arrangedward?" I interrupt. "What on earth is that, Edward?"

"It's when Carlisle and Esme arrange for me to get married," He explains with a dismissive wave of his elegant hand.

"Hmm, what else?" I ask, fascinated.

"BDSMward. Ugh, do not get me started on that. Oh well, at least those "Peeps" are making bank," he says with a shrug.

We both laugh at that and he continues for the next fifteen minutes as he goes through his massively long list of the various Wards.

"I've been in combat, comas, had cancer and have treated cancer. I've been a doctor, a dentist, a veterinarian, a bull rider, a business tycoon, a bartender, a restaurateur, a mechanic, a race car driver, a landlord, a drug lord, and a Lord of the Manor, a cop, a soldier, an attorney, a fisherman, a lobster-man, an athlete, a painter (both houses and portraiture) a writer, a photographer, an astronaut, a rock star, a tour boat captain, a chef, a thief, a con-artist, a convict, a donkey driven carriage driver, an architect, a construction worker, a banker, a farmer, a rancher, a fireman, a minister, a priest, a pilot, a Pilgrim, a Prince, a pirate, a prisoner, a psychiatrist, a politician, a scientist, a teacher, a college professor, a college student, and I have been back to high school so many times it's a wonder I am still emotionally and physically intact.

Oh, and I've also been a Leprechaun."

My mouth gapes open and laughter bubbles forth. "A Leprechaun?"

"Well love, I am magically delicious.

I've been tatted, pierced and had a Mohawk.

I've had beards, goatees, mustaches, and the always popular, 'scruff.'

I've been younger, older, gay, straight, and bi-sexual.

I've been blind, deaf, physically handicapped, and I've had every kind of intellectual disability from dyslexia to Asperger's Syndrome.

I've been burned, beaten, bullied, and brutally assaulted

I've been a virgin, a man whore, and struggled with erectile dysfunction.

I've been so well endowed that I couldn't have sex without injuring my lover. And I've been so tiny that the author had to give me an extra long tongue just to make up for my deficit.

I've had shower sex, piano sex, and wall sex so many times that Carlisle is considering doing a hip replacement.

I've had sex with my mother, my father, my sisters, my brothers, and Jacob."

He grimaces at the mention of Jake and I force back a smile.

"I've fathered boys, girls, twins, triplets, and God knows what all.

I've been married, widowed and divorced, sometimes all in the same story.

Last winter I was a snow plow driver and I was the one who got plowed. It was supposed to be a 'quick read to chase the winter blues,' but here it is, over a year and half later and I'm still walking around with a broken tailbone."

"I'm sorry, Edward."

"Eh, that's not as bad as the one who actually gave me a tail a few years back. Remember him?"


"Yep, in all his alien glory."

"I'm sorry she hurt you," I offer, sympathetically.

He looks at me, puzzled.

"The one who broke your tailbone," I remind him. Wow, he must be exhausted if he is having trouble keeping up.

"Oh, her, don't be … She'll be healing me soon so I can finally have some real sex."

"As opposed to fake sex?" I say sarcastically."

"No, as opposed to that of the oral variety," he explains, wincing.

"Oh," I blush.

"I don't really mind those types of stories, but when I have to have sex with Carlisle, I admit it does upset my sensibilities. I mean, the man is supposed to be my father, for Heaven's sake."

He lets out a huge sigh and pinches his nose, hard. I know all too well that this is a sign that he is getting himself worked up into a lather.

"I'm sorry, Edward."

"Don't be, it's not your fault."

"I feel responsible …"

"Don't blame yourself, love. It is what it is. Besides, most of the time I am guaranteed an HEA."


"Happily Ever After."

"Oh, right. So what happens if you don't have an HEA?"

"I die. Or someone dies. Or everybody dies."

"Oh, how awful!"

"No, it really isn't, except for the tender hearted. A lot of those readers feed off character death and assorted tragedies; it's amazing how much popcorn and Patron those gals can consume watching me with glee as I languish in the throes of death," he chuckles.

"You've had more incarnations than the Dalai Lama."

"Yep, and if they have their way, eventually I WILL be the Dalai Lama."

"Probably," I agree with a chuckle. Edward's small smile morphs into a full-on grin and soon we're both giggling like schoolchildren.

We're still laughing, when the window suddenly opens all on its own. I watch him struggle to hold on to the bed sheets in an effort to tether himself to my side.

"Oh for the love of all that is holy … The baby must be up for his two a.m. feeding."

My eyes begin to fill with unexpected tears. I know he can't stay long, but I had so hoped he might be mine if only for just a few precious hours.

"I have to go, sweetheart."

"Do you know what she has planned for you in this chapter?" I ask, in an effort to keep him with me for a few more short moments.

"No, I don't. But according to her reviews she'd better shit or get off the pot or they're gonna flounce."

The wind blows fiercely through the window fluttering the blue curtains and disturbing the papers on my desk. I watch, fascinated, as Edward's face begins to blur and fade as he lets go of the bedding and rises, like a ghost, to the window.

I climb out of the bed quickly and rush to the window where he is holding on to the pane for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I should have done more to protect you …" I cry out.

"Hey, come over here," he beckons.

I run to him and he lets go of the pane to fold me in his cool embrace. His spicy scent fills my senses and almost takes my breath away. I am flooded with emotions and nostalgia.

"I miss you," I say. "I miss you so much, Edward."

"I know," he says in my ear. "I miss you too, so very much."

The wind lifts his body up and away from me, towards the open window. He grasps my face between his marble hands and quickly presses a kiss on my forehead.

"Goodbye, love. Please don't cry, we'll see each other soon. I promise. And no matter what happens, try to remember that I will always be your Edward and …"

But he is blown through the window and into the stormy skies before he is able to finish his sentence.

I look out, desperate to catch one final glimpse of him, but he has been swept away into the night.

Sighing, I start to close the window and draw the curtains when I hear his velvety voice amid the wind, pelting rain, and the claps of thunder.

"You'll always be my …



Make sure you check out this awesome video that Trina made for this one shot. It's adorable!

Don't forget to replace the (dots) with .


So, this is a little something I have wanted to do for a very long time. Last weekend, when I was with my wonderful fic sisters enjoying a Twi-fic getaway on beautiful Lake Norman, I decided to make it a reality. Someday I will add more authors and stories to this one shot. If you have ideas feel free to send them out my way. I wanted to pay a small homage to my fellow writers, and especially to the original writer, Stephenie Meyers, who gave us the original Edward to play with from time to time!

Much love to all,


PS: Many readers have asked which fic had Edward as a Leprechaun. It is a short fic entitled The Scavenger Hunt by Everleigh Allen.