Special thanks to DizzyGrl28 for beta duties and to my girls who forced me to write this. Mwah!I don't own Twilight, its characters, or anything else that is publicly recognizable. SecretServiceWard is mine.
"Look, Dad. I know I can't realistically go back to school without protection. But I just want a chance to feel like a normal kid, and being with AARP Gold Member Billy Black isn't going to help me blend in. All I'm asking for is someone closer to my age."
Charlie - Mr. President to everyone but Mom and me - scratches the back of his neck and sighs. "I'll talk to Sam."
I'm not used to getting my way, but I think Charlie feels bad for me. It's been a grueling year for the entire family and I see this as a thank you from him for doing my First Daughter duties without complaining . . . too much.
Two hours later, Charlie calls me into his office. I glare at Billy Black, who would never fit in on Pepperdine's campus, when he starts tailing me as soon as I leave my bedroom.
"Take three steps back, Billy. Please. We're in the White House. Pretty sure they do hefty security checks, plus no one is in this wing right now but Mom and me."
Billy is the strong, silent type. He huffs a bit, but takes a step away from me. I shrug; I'll take what I can get.
Dad's smile is wide when I walk into his office. Sam Uley is here, and standing next to him is the prettiest man I've ever seen. No, really - he's pretty. He's got this weird shade of dark red hair, and I catch a glimpse of green eyes before he slides those damn sunglasses on.
I'm trying really hard not to be obvious when I check him out, but it's nearly impossible. I'm kind of grateful right now that these guys are required to wear suits because words fail me when I look at Pretty Guy in a suit.
"Bella?" When Charlie says my name, I realize that he and Sam have been talking to me for the last few minutes, and I haven't paid any attention to them.
Pretty Guy tries to cover a snicker with a cough, but fails miserably. I give him a dirty look and turn to smile at Charlie.
"Yeah, sorry. Thinking about what I still have to pack for school."
Sam smiles and I know I'm totally busted.
"Bella, this is Edward Cullen. He's going to Pepperdine with you. You think twenty-seven is young enough to blend in?" Charlie asks.
There is no fucking way Pretty Guy is going to school with me. I'll never get anything done. I wonder if Renee has seen him; she'd have a field day with this. Suddenly I wonder if this is some sick joke. "Are you serious?" I sputter.
"As a heart attack," Sam says. "Cullen is one of my best agents."
"You'll have to excuse me, but," I turn to Edward Cullen and smile at him, "how is it that you're already here? I mean, not like here, here because I'm sure you came by car or whatever, but how did you wind up here already? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're still in your twenties. You just strike me as a little young for someone protecting my family."
One of these days, I'll figure out when is a good time to shut up.
Edward Cullen dazzles me with his smile. Wait - dazzles? When did I become a bumbling idiot who uses words like dazzles to describe what someone's smile does to me? I blush and offer a weak smile back. If nothing else, he will make my return to Pepperdine interesting.
Two weeks later, I'm on the commercial flight from hell. Edward Cullen is sitting next to me, and he keeps muttering about LAX being a security nightmare for him.
"Perk up, Cullen," I say, shoving his shoulder. "California will be good for you. Sun, a beautiful campus, girls in bikinis, the works. Or, you know, guys in board shorts if that's your thing."
"Isabella, I am not gay," Edward tells me.
I snort and tell him he defended his sexuality a little too quickly, but his secret is safe with me. I snort again at my horrible joke.
A roll of his perfect apple green eyes later, Edward has pulled out a sleek black clip board with a compartment for his file folders and is explaining how he's registered for all the same classes as me. He also thinks it will be a pain to commute to campus from my new apartment. I wanted to stay in the dorms again, but apparently that was the worst idea ever. He nearly quashed my request to live with my roommate from last year, but Charlie met her at a campaign stop in Yorba Linda and vouched for her.
I'm fed up with Mr. Serious Business Secret Service Agent, so I start bouncing in my seat. "Come on, Cullen. Can't you lighten up just a little?"
"Isabella, this is a very serious matter. "
"You think too much, Cullen." I make a big show out of stretching my arms over my head and leaning back against the seat. My hands smack the controls over my head and I swear pretty loudly. "You'd think Dad would have at least sprung for First Class, right?"
"Can't even give the illusion of wasting taxpayer dollars."
I sigh and decide to look Edward over - really look at the way he's dressed - to see if I think he'll fit in at Pepperdine. I wonder if there is a way to tell my subconscious to screw off when I feel a blush rising to my cheeks the moment Edward shifts in his seat and I see the muscles flex in his forearms, making me feel squishy.
I've somehow managed to talk him out of traveling in a suit, though he wouldn't give up the ear piece or the sunglasses. I suspect the sunglasses have some kind of screen built in to them and are attached to a camera, so he essentially has eyes in the back of his head. I am determined to get him to admit this.
After perusing his polo shirt and neatly pressed khakis, I decide Edward will fit in relatively well. The shoes have got to go, though. He's wearing . . . "Are those Hush Puppies?"
"What's wrong with my shoes, Isabella?" Edward snaps. "And yes, they are."
"They need to go. You're going to stick out like a sore thumb. Have you ever heard of flip flops?"
"I hate the way the thing feels between my toes," he admits.
Ah, insight into the enigma that is Edward Cullen. I decide to let this drop, for now. "Whatever Cullen. Think it's safe for me to take a nap?"
Edward huffs and nods curtly, so I put my seat back and try to get comfortable. I think I fail miserably, but I wake up when Edward shakes my shoulder and calls my name. "Isabella, we're here."
I've never negotiated LAX as fast as I do with Edward pulling me along. We make it to the apartment before Alice, and I'm not entirely surprised to discover the two bedroom has been swapped for a three bedroom.
"You're moving in?"
"You need protection around the clock," he says.
I open my mouth to make a smart comment, but I'm interrupted by a loud squeal when Alice flies through the door.
"Bellaaaaaaa!" she yells, jumping into my arms.
Edward flies into action, pulling Alice away from me and putting her down across the room. "Ma'am, you can't do that," he says politely.
"Are you kidding me? Bella, does Hottie McSecret Service Agent know who I am?"
"Ma'am?" Edward asks.
"Oh, can it with the ma'am, Cullen! Alice, Edward. Edward, Alice. Get used to seeing her around here; she lives here. Alice, be nice. Edward's a little . . . stiff." I blush when I realize what I've said.
Alice giggles - because that's what Alice does - and winks at me.
We're halfway through the semester and I have to admit Edward Cullen has done a better job of blending in and being a "college student" than Billy Black ever would have done. He's even managed to feign an interest in my Modern Art class, though I've learned over the past several weeks that he prefers the classics.
Because he is enrolled in all of my classes, Edward has to do the required reading, write the papers, and take all of the exams. Apparently he forgot to think of that when he suggested to Sam that he register instead of just standing in the back of the lecture hall looking all intimidating.
There are books, papers, and notes scattered all over my bedroom floor. Edward is a perfectionist in every sense of the word, so he can't be bothered to squeak by in these classes; no, Edward Cullen has to have a perfect GPA after this semester at Pepperdine.
He's frustrated because he doesn't like the way our Economics professor words questions on exams, and he's sick of looking for the correct answer for his take home test.
"I got that one an hour ago." I point to the one unanswered question on his paper.
"I'll find it, Isabella. It's just . . . Well, this man has no idea how to teach Economics properly."
"It's Bella," I snap. "And you do?"
"I certainly wouldn't teach it this way!"
"Exactly. This is why you're a government agent and he's a tenured professor." I throw my pen down and smile. "We should take a break. Food?"
"Can we get Chinese? I don't think I could stand if you ordered pizza again this week."
"I'm a college student, Edward. I live off of cold pizza and stale beer."
"You don't look like it," he says so softly I'm not sure I've heard him correctly.
Forty five minutes later, we're sitting at the kitchen table with our food. Edward is quizzing me from the Econ test and I'm fed up. "Stop! I can't take any more of this right now. Let's talk about you."
"Yes, you. You know everything about me."
"It's my job to know everything about you."
"Yes, I know. Like I was saying, you know everything about me. All I know about you is your first and last name, what you do for a living, and that you hate Modern Art even though you pretend otherwise. I'd like to get to know you better."
Edward blushes and ducks his head slightly. "I'm not that interesting."
"I beg to differ. Middle name?"
"Anthony, after my grandfather."
"Where did you go to college? The first time," I amend when he gestures widely around him.
"Northwestern. I was born in Chicago."
I tap my chin, trying to think of something else to ask Edward. This is much harder than I imagined it would be. "Why Secret Service? Why not FBI or CIA?"
Edward blushes again and my face heats as I watch the color trail down his throat and under the crisp white shirt he's wearing.
"I've always wanted to protect the President," he finally admits.
"Instead you got stuck with his petulant daughter."
"You're not always petulant. Sometimes you're rather pleasant to be around," he smiles. "I don't know, Secret Service just seemed more interesting than the others."
"Fair enough. Have you always been like this? I don't want to sound rude or anything, Edward, but you're kind of uptight."
"I have to be. If anything happened to you, I couldn't live with myself."
"You barely fit in, though. No normal coed dresses as well as you do, and you never, ever let anyone see you relax. In fact, I'm pretty certain you sleep fully clothed. Your room is impossibly neat, everything has to be done the right way or you panic, and I don't know . . . You seem like you're always on edge."
"I do my best, Isabella. I have to do things the way I do them, because there are certain protocols that must stay in place for your protection. I do not panic, ever. It's not part of the job description. And I don't sleep fully clothed, " he smirks.
I can't think of anything else to ask him right now, though I want to. I'm fascinated by him, and I really want to know as much as possible, but I don't want to resort to questions usually reserved for first dates. Edward and I certainly aren't dating.
When my cell rings, Edward reaches for it at the same time I do. Our hands touch briefly and I blush again because this touch affects me in ways it probably shouldn't if I want Edward to keep his job.
"Bella, I'm at this amazing party. You should come."
"I don't know, Ali. I've got a killer Econ take home to do." I wink at Edward. The test was killer, but I've been done with it for hours. He still refuses to accept my offered gift of the one answer he's missing.
"Isabella Swan, it's Friday night. I don't care what homework you have. Come to the party."
Edward has one eyebrow raised, and I know he's going to take a lot of convincing. "I need to talk with Edward," I say after a moment. "I'll text you when he decides."
Alice demands to talk to Edward about it, but I hang up on her.
I hate this. I hate not being able to just toss my homework aside and go to a party if that's what I want to do. Edward is not one of my parents; he shouldn't be making calls like this for me. I know the logic behind why he has to say it's okay or not, but that doesn't mean I'm happy with it.
"Alice invited me to a party."
"Absolutely not. I know nothing about this; there's no way I can be sure it's secure."
"Edward, it's a college party. The most dangerous thing there will be the digestive pyrotechnics of the frat boys who've had too much to drink. I haven't been to a single party since Charlie announced he was running for President. Please?" I'm whining, but I really don't care.
Edward sighs and I can practically see the wheels turning in his brain. "I'm going with you," he says after several minutes.
"I kind of figured."
He drops his plate in the sink and is almost to the door before he realizes I'm still sitting at the table. "Do you want to go or not?"
"I do. But you're not going to this party dressed like that." He's still dressed in his suit. His jacket is still on and he hasn't even loosened his tie, despite the fact that we've been studying for the past four hours.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"You're going to stick out like a sore thumb, Edward. I know people here aren't stupid and they know who you are, but there's no reason to make it completely obvious."
Five minutes after he disappears into his bedroom, he reemerges wearing khakis, a polo shirt and boat shoes. I really, really need to take him shopping for better footwear.
"You look like you're headed to a polo match."
"I look fine. Let's go."
"Wait here." I'm in the hallway before he can stop me, banging on the neighbor's door. "Emmett! Open up!"
Emmett throws the door open, looking frantic. "What's wrong, Bella?"
"I need to borrow that t-shirt you tried to wear last week. Don't argue with me, it was too tight on you."
Emmett hands over the black t-shirt, but not before he asks me a million and one questions about why I need it. "Don't worry about it," I tell him.
Edward hasn't moved from where he was standing in the kitchen. He looks a little dazed, and drops the shirt when I throw it to him. "Put this on."
I expect Edward to go back into his room to change, so when he reaches behind his head and pulls his current shirt off, I'm stunned.
He's not half naked for very long, but the brief glimpse I get of his chest leaves me breathless. In the span of ten seconds, I see a tightly muscled chest covered with a smattering of hair, notice that his biceps are really well defined, his abs are a thing of beauty, and I wonder what the end of his happy trail looks like.
My throat has gone dry and I swallow several times before I figure out how to speak again. "Don't tuck that in," is all I can manage.
His pants are awful, so I force him to make a pit stop for jeans before we go to the party. This time, I don't hide my staring. I'm bold enough, in fact, to lick my lips when Edward turns around and asks if the jeans fit well enough.
He wants to drive to the party, but because it's only a fifteen minute walk and we've been holed up in the house all day studying, I beg him to walk with me. Our fingers brush a few times while we're walking and I feel something akin to a static shock when they do. I wonder if he feels it too, when he snatches his hand away from me after just a second.
We've just arrived and found Alice when one of the house's brothers decides it's his sole mission in life to tell me all about how Charlie's energy policies suck. I try to explain - nicely - that I really don't give a shit what this guy thinks. His entire demeanor screams that he's not a member of Charlie's party, and I've been briefed by nearly everyone and their mother about how to handle these situations.
Edward is oblivious to my extensive training and steps in, asking Mr. Drill, Baby, Drill! to take a step back, and several of DBD's brothers who have also stepped up. I hear them coercing him to leave me alone, explaining that they're just trying to have a party, and if it'll make him feel better, they'll ask me to leave. Part of me wants to be really offended, but another part of me is so disenchanted after Tyler - that's Mr. DBD's name, by the way - accosts me, that I just want to go home and curl up with Edward to watch a movie.
Mr. DBD ignores his brothers and keeps screaming obscenities about how relying on foreign oil is going to cost our children the country, and I can tell by the tinge of pink on the tips of Edward's ears that he's had enough.
"Tyler," Edward says, putting his body between Mr. DBD and me, "you need to take several steps back, and possibly a cold shower to calm your temper down. You will not speak to Isabella that way again, are we clear?"
Apparently Edward's as clear as mud, because Tyler chooses that moment to lunge at me.
There is a flurry of activity. Edward pushes me away. I land in Alice's arms; she's as shocked as me about the current situation.
Tyler's brothers probably should have jumped in at this point, but they're smarter than he is. They also know who Edward is, and that messing with him would be very bad for their health.
By the time I have my bearings back, Tyler is in a heap on the floor yelling things like "lawsuit!" and "motherfucker!" Edward is kneeling in front of me, hands on either side of my face so he can force me to look him directly in the eye, asking me if I'm okay.
I tell him I'm fine, but I'm lying. I'm so far from fine that I'm not even traveling in the direction of fine. I am, for lack of a better term, hot and bothered. This is the first time Edward has had to jump in and save me from any bad guy and I had no idea it would be so hot.
If I was approaching infatuation with him before, I've blown completely past it, well on my way to full blown obsession.
I can't really think of anything other than his eyes and the way the light is catching on the subtle highlights in his hair. Feeling Edward's strong, slightly rough, hands on my face makes me curious about what they'd feel like elsewhere on my body. I keep watching his mouth move as he talks to me, and I've decided it's my sole mission in life to find out what his lips feel like with my own.
There's no excuse for what happens next. One minute I'm watching Edward talk to me, the next my lips are pressed against his and he's not pulling away.
Edward stands up, pulling my body with his, and turns me around to press my back against a wall. His lips are soft and smooth and forceful against mine, and I really can't see myself ever kissing anyone else again.
His hands slide down my body and are on my ass before I realize what's happening. His groan when he lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist is muffled by my mouth, and my own joins the chorus when he pushes me against his hardness.
Oh, God. I don't know if I've ever felt anything like this. Now that my legs are locked around him, Edward takes one hand away from my ass and runs it along my side. His thumb just grazes the underside of my breast before he mumbles, "Fuck it," into my hair and palms the entire thing.
I've clasped my hands behind his neck and am grinding against him with abandon. This feels good, and if he lets me keep going, I'm going to come. Edward's lips are all over my neck, my face, my lips. When he decides to pay special attention to the spot behind my ear, I whisper to him how good this feels. He moans again and I think I hear "gonna come," and "this is fucking inconvenient," before the world explodes around me.
My eyes are squeezed shut and I just feel. The orgasm, his length against me, his hands on my ass and face; his body stiffens under me as he buries his face in my neck and mumbles a string of curse words that would make the Pope blush.
We don't move. I'm still wrapped around him, panting, and we're sharing chaste kisses, whispering to one another. I'm just starting to come out of the post orgasm haze when I catch a glimpse of Alice over Edward's shoulder. She smirks at me and I hear her wonder, out loud, if Charlie has the authority to order executions.
Thank you for reading!