AN: Gah.

I'm writing another sappy one-shot. I have a half finished one. This is my third one.

Obviously, someone is controlling my mind.

How else can you explain why the hell I'm writing another SAPPY ONESHOT? Jeez, something's wrong with me. . .

Okay, by the way, this is taking place in the mid-1950s. It's such a cool time frame.

Go read Angel and Airwaves stories. She's an awesome beta. And she's patient. I send her stuff that doesn't even have to do with fanfiction and/or Twilight stories anymore, yet she reads them and corrects them.

Ah. My poor overused beta. I salute thee.

Disclaimer: SM owns everything.


It all started with a simply copy of a book.

Yes, you read that sentence correctly. A book. It wasn't a very popular book, one about what the future might bring. But Edward Anthony Cullen bought it from a used book store in the mid-1950s and loved it.

He also loved the notes written on the margins of almost all the pages. Edward read the notes, and appreciated the writer's wit, their level of intelligence, and just about everything else. Soon, he was added his own notes to the book, agreeing with the writer on some aspects, disagreeing on other. Edward went back to the store where he had bought the book from, and tracked down the book's original owner. Edward wanted to speak with the person behind the notes, behind the doodles on some pages, behind the things that had been intriguing him for the past month.

The original owner had been Isabella Swan.

The bookstore owner had also given Isabella's address, and Edward quickly penned a letter to Ms. Swan. It was polite and friendly, and Edward simply thanked her for putting her insights into the book. Edward felt like he had been given two views on the book, while most people only got one view: the author's. Edward was glad to have the chance to get another point of view. Edward had not expected a response; he had hoped for one, of course, but was shocked and pleased when he received one in the mail.

Isabella's --Bella, Edward corrected himself. She likes to be called Bella-- wit was obvious in the reply. She made remarks that left Edward thinking and he loved it. They quickly got over the awkward stage of letter writing, and became close confidants to each other. Bella started signing her letters with "Love, Bella," and Edward's stomach flopped whenever he saw that.

Love, Bella.

Two little words, but they were. . . different somehow. Edward wasn't sure why though. His mother, his father, his friends, his family had ended their letters to him that way, but for some reason, this felt different.

Edward started signing his letters "Love, Edward."


Edward realized what was happening to him too soon to prevent it. He was falling in love with Isabella Marie Swan. And he had never even seen her face.


Dear Edward,

Oh, dear Edward I have the greatest news! I am visiting Chicago the second weekend of March! I will be in the same city as you. Edward, do you think that we can meet? I've wanted to see the face behind the kinds words ever since your first letter. I long to see you; I have pictured you before, but I need to meet you. To reassure myself that you are real. Oh, Edward, I can't believe that we're finally going to meet!

Love, Bella


Dear Bella,

I would love to finally see you. I cannot wait until March. How will we identify each other?

Love, Edward


Dear Edward,

I'll be wearing a red rose attached to my collar. Is it possible for you to wear a blue carnation?

Love, Bella


Dear Bella,

It is more than possible.

Love, Edward


Edward shifted around the train station and re-adjusted the blue flower in his breast pocket. He made sure that the blue flower was easily visible and turned once again to where Bella should be disembarking very soon.


Oh, how he had longed for the moment when they would finally meet! Edward already had reservations at one of the fanciest restaurants around, La Bella Italia. There, Edward would tell Bella the truth: that he had fallen in love with her through letters. Edward hoped that Bella felt the same.

A crowd of people came out of where Edward was watching. That must be Bella's train. Edward's green eyes scanned every woman for a red rose, but didn't find anyone.
Disappointment rocked through him.

"Excuse me," Edward asked a person coming out of the exit. "What city did this train come from?"

The woman smiled gently at him. "Port Angeles, Washington. It was a long ride, but worth it." She ran a finger through her short black hair. "And everything will work out, don't
worry." The woman winked at him and went over to a blond man that Edward had been watching before.

Bella was from Forks. Her train was coming from Port Angeles. She hadn't come. Maybe, she was merely delayed. But Edward couldn't fool himself any longer with his petty hopes. Isabella wasn't coming.

He started to turn away, but a flash of red caught his eyes. A red rose attached to someone's collar.

She came! Edward rejoiced. She's here.

But then Edward got a closer look at her.

She was not the young girl that Edward had envisioned; instead she looked old enough to be Edward's grandmother. Her back was slightly stooped over, her white hair short and close to her head. But the red rose on his collar remained on her collar, identifying her as Isabella Swan.

For a brief moment, Edward considered leaving. But almost half a second later, shame rushed through him, hot and defiant. He would not leave. She was still Isabella Swan, whether she was old or young. Edward made his way over to Bella and leaned down when he reached her.

"Ms. Swan?" He asked gently. "I'm Edward Cullen. I hope you don't mind, but I made us reservations for La Bella Italia."

Bella smiled up at him. "Oh, laddie, you passed the test."

Edward was confused. Test? "Excuse me?"

"I'm not Isabella Swan," the old woman said gently. "Isabella sent me out here first. She wanted to make sure that you weren't taking her out based on her looks." The woman smiled
at him. "And you passed."

"You're . . . you're not Isabella Swan?" Edward repeated. A smile grew on his lips as he thought of her. "Oh, she was so clever! Do you know where she is?"

The woman laughed. "She's standing by the flower stand, around the corner." She winked at Edward. "Go get her, son."

"Thank you, ma'am!" Impulsively, Edward pressed his lips to her cheek. "Thank you! Have a lovely day!"

Edward rounded the corner to the sound of her laughter and stopped dead at the goddess in front of him.

She was perfect. That was all Edward could think. God, she was so beautiful. Edward's eyes traced over her waves of dark hair, her petite frame, her red cheeks, her large smile, her pale skin. His eyes rested on the red rose in her hands.

Beautiful, Edward thought.

He walked over to her, feeling a grin grow on his lips. "Is this another test, or are you really Bella Swan?"

Bella blushed. "I'm sorry about that, but I had to make sure."

Edward laughed and drew her into his arms. She smelled like the sweetest thing Edward had ever smelled. Her heat was comforting in Edward's arms. Eventually, they released each other and stood back.

"Nice to meet you, Edward Cullen," Bella said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Isabella Swan."

And they stood there, smiling at each other for quite some time, before leaving the train station.

Bella had roses in her wedding bouquet and only she and Edward knew why.


Okay, insanely sappy. I know.

--eyes chocolate on desk, next to cell phone and mouse-- I wonder if the chocolate has anything to do with it. . . ?

Okay, just one thing before I end this. I have 6 review for Let's Shoot Cupid And See How He Likes It. It's on 25 people's favorites list. Two Blushing Pilgrims. 18 reviews. 45 favorites.

All I'm asking is that you review! Please. I don't care if I'm begging, but honestly, it takes five seconds. you could even write "Good Job!" or "I love it!" There. Two examples. Took me ten seconds to type both of those out.

And now I have the torch over to you.