This is my first Twilight fic. After reading many AU fics, I wanted to write one, and it occurred to me that the vampires in Twilight are actually more similar to superheroes than vampires. I moved Metropolis from Chicago to Washington because I thought a west coast setting would be more appropriate for the characters, and I don't like to write OOC.

Reviews: I do not have a beta, though I comb the chapters at least three times before publishing. Please let me know if there are mistakes bothering you, or if you like my fic. I appreciate the encouragement.

Thank you for reading; feedback is appreciated!

Rating: (K+) This fic will eventually be NC-17 (or MA) for explicit sexual situations, and chapters with adult content will contain warnings.This chapter has light swearing.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of the irrespective owners. The originalcharacters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producersof any media franchise. No copy right infringement is intended.

~MaraJadeblu


Metropolis, Washington, USA

June 20, 2012

Ch 1: Edward

The air conditioners were broken again. The temperature didn't bother me in the least- the only problem the sweltering heat caused me had to do with my other... senses. Jessica's abhorrent and obvious perfume was annoying enough without fans blowing the fumes into my face repeatedly. I wouldn't have needed to breathe, but unfortunately my job had me on the phone every ten minutes, and when I wasn't tracking down sources, I was being yelled at about corrections, and when I wasn't being yelled at, Jessica was finding pathetic excuses to lean over my desk and encourage chit chat with her breasts.

They did nothing for me, the breasts, firm and oppressively buoyant though they may be. I almost wished they did. I wished I had a normal man's reaction to breasts being flaunted inches from my nose- that when my eyes drifted, and I unconsciously swallowed, it was because of erotic desire- that I was imagining caresses and licks instead of violence and murder.

That was distraction number one on days when the AC went down. It was almost enough to make me convincingly crabbier than usual, like the rest of these... people.

Problem number two was that other people were crabby- their thoughts, already trite and repulsive to begin with, we're tinted with irritability- as if people weren't irritating enough. The despotic silence resulting from the heat did nothing for the incessant dribble that came from people's minds.

I'd have gone crazy years ago if I hadn't started to be able to block out thoughts. Block is optomistic wording, they were just like sound in that they couldn't truly be blocked, only focused and unfocused. Keeping my mind busy helped distract me from their noise, and I was finally using this curse for something good. That was a bittersweet comfort. I sighed as a waft of Jessica and a tinge of Mike's arousal made its way up my nose. Whatever disgusting pheromones Jessica was projecting were at least having some effect- somewhere.

Mike liked to play sports- basketball after work on Thursdays with Tyler. He didn't mind the heat or the sweat- it made him feel powerful and exhilarated. He was imagining swiping clear a desk, and cornering Ms. Stanley against it. I slammed down my stack of papers in imitation of my mental reaction- slamming down on Mike's vile, disrespectful, inappropriate thoughts. What was he, some kind of horny teenager?!

Off track already- I rubbed my face with cool fingers, trying to contain my irritation by retreating into a controlled state of apathy. Everywhere, every job, the same distractions and vices haunted plebeians- and by extension, me. Why should here be any different? No one ever touted journalism as a profession filled with the well adjusted and mature. Writers, I thought with dispassionate dismissal. And, for heaven sakes, I was one of them! One of these immature, selfish, vicious writers I derided on a daily basis. Smallest violin, Cullen.

It was better here than other jobs- here people were at least honest about serving their egos- their vices were even socially acceptable (even Mike's, I reluctantly admitted). The least I could do to make this easier on myself would be to retreat into apathy. All these very mundane problems and thoughts- every single one of them thinking their bullshit was unique and special- every romance a stupid goddamn snowflake... Once again, I was getting off track. In my quest for apathy, I sometimes overreached and tumbled into resentment and sulky loneliness. Some of my more attractive qualities.

Determined to shake it off and regain my blasé zen, I strode up to Ms. Cope's Desk. Giving her a charming smile that usually got me what I wanted, she immediately tightened her thighs and parted her lips. "I'm feeling a bit restless in here. Is there anything that needs doing that might involve some fresh air or walking around?" I put one hand casually on my desk, giving me an excuse to lean in invitingly with my body language.

For a fleeting second, she was almost able to interpret his words as an invitation to a walk in the park. I was already planning my way around it when she suddenly remembered, "We're getting in our new interns today Mr. Cullen! Are you sure you want to leave; they should be here soon..."

Great, more of the same- I thought, proud that my apathy had made a comeback. Then with a groan I realized the effect fresh blood (no pun intended) was going to have on the office.

"If you'd like, you can show around the newbie assigned to our block- a Ms. Isabella Swan. She's a scholarship student who has been accepted to MU, but she's fresh out of high school."

Oh god, babysitting. On the other hand- poor Ms. Swan could end up with a horny Mike or Taylor, a jealous Jessica, or a vicious Lauren. At least I was a sane choice (that's a private joke, and a sick one at that, Cullen). How bad could it be? Ha, ha, I hadn't fed in a while. With that in mind, I decided studiously to avoid her. Better to expose myself to her scent a little at a time.

"On second thought..." My phone began ringing in my pocket- people might be annoying, but at least the work was interesting. I waved an apology and took the call- a callback from one of my sources for tomorrow's article. There was a murder on a dock last night, and as usual - I felt obsessively that I must know who was behind it- that there had to be some clue...


Having seen the body, and talked to the witness who found it, I walked back into the building preoccupied. I held an empty coffee cup for show. Most journalists lived on coffee and food bars, so unlike some of my other occupations, I didn't often have to pretend to eat.

I sipped the empty cup once in awhile, and no one was the wiser.

The general buzz was about the new interns: This one was cute, that one was hot, he had already put his foot in his mouth, wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole covered latex.

I sighed, and smelled some new scents as I got into the elevator. Several deep breaths later I had acclimated and categorized them. One of them, female, was a smoker. I hoped it wasn't Ms. Swan because that smell was disgusting. Another, male, was very nervous, possibly because he has stepped in dog defecation on his way in. Most of them lived in the city, I could tell from the absence of wild pollens.

I reached out my mind and scanned for my department. Jessica was predictably jealous. Talk around the office was all about the illustrious Ms Swan. The men were embarrassing themselves over her. Apparent she was shy as a doe, fair and clear-faced as a doll, pretty, juicy and young as a fresh peach, waiting to be plucked.

Ugh, gag. For once, I agreed with Jessica. She had an exaggerated view of ...pretty much everything judging by her daydreams of me, however, Ms. Swan was probably not, hmm, horsefaced and buck-toothed. Nor was she anything like the doll Ben thought of or the- ew- dominatrix Tyler was imagining, at least I hoped not. She must have been occupied, blending into her surroundings because I hadn't heard her yet. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I refocused on work.

Still talking, I got to my desk and began digitally backing up the info and pictures I'd just taken at the dock. My Nikon D5100 went back into a locked drawer, and he started tapping away on his laptop. The lab confirmed my suspicions, and for an unknown amount of time, my focus was complete. The only part of me that wasn't working was focused on the human movements that kept me obscure. I fidgeted, blinked, drank some "coffee" and remembered to breathe. Jessica's perfume almost didn't bother me at all.

Edward Cullen.

Rarely were thoughts directed at me with such fervor. I looked up and saw Mike, Jessica, and a third figure starting back at me. The two of them looked away uncomfortably and continued talking... about me, but a pair of honey eyes stared back at me, and held my gaze.

Hello, Ms. Swan.

I was surprised by my own reaction, and hers. She didn't fidget away for all of two seconds-almost a record for me, and then a blush slowly pooled the blood under her skin and took over her complexion until I thought the force of it would make her faint. She pulled her eyes off of me like I'd poked her, and looked guilty at being caught in her fascination.

Areyoufreakingkiddingme? Jessica's mind intruded. He's never looked at me that way-just staring. It would be creepy if it weren't so ridiculously friggin' hot!

Oh no... Mike's mind simultaneously groaned. Of all the... not CULLEN. He could have anyone and he chooses my beautiful Bella-

Noo... I heard Eric watch me stare, Any girl in here would drop her panties for him, and now even the new girl is already enthralled!

Surely "enthralled" was hyperbole, though I felt a little self congratulatory about it anyway.

Ha, who's a vain, tepid, misanthropic ass now, Cullen? That last was me.

It was enough to make me blink and turn back to my work. If I could blush at the comments I would, but alas. Everyone was entirely over-reacting. After all, she was just a silly high school girl, and she wasn't that beautiful. I looked again, to convince myself that indeed, she was almost plain.

She was looking at me again with those eyes, and jerked away at Mike faster this time. Good. The stories and I had already made her uneasy. Give into your survival instincts, Ms. Swan. Listen to them well.

Mike was taking her to Ms. Cope's desk. One of his hands rested on her lower back, and he smiled gently as they chatted about her placement. Who would her mentors be? Mike was hoping in the name of all that was holy, that he would be one of them. He tried to indicate this to Ms. Cope, who delightfully said, "Ms. Swan will be working on the local crime beat. Ms. Stanley and Mr. Cullen will be her mentors, Michael." Mike had never wished he hadn't been a political junkie so badly in his life. The finality of the words sent him into a slump.

I felt like slumping too. Babysitting. Oh, joy. Ms. Cope threw me a look that indicated she had given me this as a present due to my request earlier. While Jessica flailed with artificial excitement, I started to consider the best way out of it. Maybe I should hand her over to Mike after all...

Oh, just smell her first, you wuss! Emmett's words coming out of my brain. You don't even know if this is going to be a problem! Maybe she smokes; that would fix it.

Jessica was now leading Ms. Swan over to my desk. I saw the inevitability of her passing in front of the fan. As Jessica walked through her stench flew to my right, but Ms Swan paused and then hurried to catch up, passing by the wind just in time for me to take a precaution whiff-

I'd never wanted to kill anyone as badly in my life as I wanted to kill Ms. Swan in that moment.