this is silly, unbetaed, and did I mention silly? just a small glimpse of a tiny moment in the future lives of Edward and Bella from Grand Jete. this is a couple months after he gets the cured bill :) don't feel compelled to read if you don't like this sort of stuff. it adds/takes away nothing from the original story.

hope you enjoy this gratuitous fluff!


So, the smoking was an issue for a while. She tried to quit several times, but like she told people for years – they enabled each other. She'd try to quit, but then he'd come inside smelling of nicotine, and she'd groan and rush outside, practically shaking to get her hands on one.

But, pretty soon, her sighs and pointed looks turned into snarky comments, and then finally, full-blown arguments. He was adamant, and there was little she could to convince a twenty-seven year old man to do something he didn't want to do.

Then, he said the magic words. She was arguing that he already had cancer once – did he really want it again? And then he said – oh, she still gets heated, thinking about it – 'I've beat it once. Looks like I'm gonna have to do it again.'

She'd never been so mad in her life, she thinks. Oh, he's said some pretty nasty things, and she's no saint in the heat of an argument, but when those words left his mouth, she did something she'd never done before.

She slapped him. Right across the mouth. His cheek was red for hours, and tender for days. She was immediately sorry – violence is wrong, she knows, but oh my god he had it coming – but it seemed to snap something inside of him. Like she was wearing an 'enough is enough' sign on her forehead. Or, maybe she had it stamped on her hand, and when she slapped him, he took a good look at himself in the mirror and saw it written there.

Whatever it was, it changed something.

So, he bought that gum. And the patches. And he's wearing one now, and nothing else. He's asleep, and the sheets are bundled up around his feet, and one leg is sticking out. His… you know… is halfway hanging out. I guess they've been together for a while, because even though he's still the sexiest man she's ever seen, the sight of his morning wood peeking out makes her giggle instead of making her want to molest him.

"Wake up," she whispers against his cheek.

He grunts something she thinks is a no, so she pinches his cheek. "Come on, Edward."

"So. Tired."

"So. Don't. Care. Dinner reservations, remember? Or did you forget?"

He cracks an eye open, and then smiles at her. "Forget? I don't forget. Especially not something so important." He yanks on her arm and brings her down to the bed.

"Edward! Really? My hair, and my mmmpppphfff." He kisses her, and then draws back, smiling. So pleased with himself. "I think you need to reapply your lipstick," she tells him, rubbing at the color on his face.

"Ha, ha, ha," he deadpans. "Don't take the attention off the magic of the day."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm one year closer to being thirty. Fantaaaaastic."

"You don't look a day older than twenty-seven… oh, wait."

"Oh, that's really funny. Yep. You know, I can get laid tonight either way. So, keep up the mouth."

"Oh, really?"

"A little thing I like to call my twenty-fifth birthday present."

"You would use that cheap piece of plastic over this?"

"I would." She stands, smiling. "I wouldn't! Stop pouting. It's my birthday. You don't get to complain."

He sits up. "I really want a cigarette, baby."

"I thought I said no complaining." She's expecting a comeback, but when she turns, he's looking incredibly anxious. "Hey, it's okay. Me, too. Need a new one?"

"Yeah," he says, peeling the patch off his bicep.

She puts another one on, and then leans against his arm. "It'll be okay. Let's just… here, stand up."

"What? No! I don't have on pants."

She throws his boxer-briefs at his face. "Put these on."

He does, standing, complaining. She's used to it, so she just ignores it with a little grin.

"Okay, here we go. Breathing exercises."

"Really, Bell? I need to shower."

"You better do these breathing exercises, Edward Cullen. Don't you dare move."

He doesn't, sighing.

"First position," she says, closing her heels together and bringing her arms in a circular way in front of her.

He follows, frowning. "I'm not in Kansas anymore."

"You've never been to Kansas."

"It's from Wizard of Oz, you know, the heels – "

"Your heels aren't even touching, Edward."

"Guess my dick is getting in the way."

"You're ridiculous. Second position." She moves her feet out, and then her arms.

"You look pretty," he smiles. "Very graceful and long."

"Thanks. Do what I'm doing!"

She goes through the remaining steps, making him breathe into every uncomfortable position. By the end of it, he's panting, wincing, and definitely not thinking about a cigarette.

"Feel better?"

"No. What have you done to me?"

She rolls her eyes. He'll always be overdramatic, but he looks pretty cute with his feet all tangled.

"Guess what?" she says, coming out of fifth position. "Shower time. You, me, naked. Sound appealing?"

Yep, he's definitely not thinking about a cigarette anymore.