The idea for this one-shot came to me when I was watching the US Open, and Luke Donald shanked a tee shot and hit a volunteer, and the announcer guys were talking about how concerned he looked, and then my mind just ran away with it and this happened! Enjoy!

19-1. Ball in Motion Deflected or Stopped By Outside Agency

If a player's ball in motion is accidentally deflected or stopped by any outside agency, it is a rub of the green, there is no penalty and the ball must be played as it lies. –USGA Book of Golf Rules


"Welcome ladies and gentleman to the 2012 Masters Tournament! Thank you for joining us on this Sunday morning, where we are kicking off a sure to be exciting day of golf. Coming into the final day, two players are neck and neck, leading the rest of the field. Tiger Woods is trying to capture his first major title in four long years, and his competitor, whose name seems to be on everyone's lips, Edward Cullen, who has taken the PGA by storm, is trying to snatch his first green jacket."

Edward Cullen, 25 years old, 6'1", was the hottest name in golf. Two years ago, he had joined the Professional Golf Association, and won his first tournament, beating out Phil Mickelson in a playoff which millions watched. The journalists compared him instantly to a Jack Nickalus.

He went on to win 5 more tournaments in 8 starts, finishing in the top 10 for the 3 he didn't win outright. The four major tournaments came and went, and while he was able to finish in the top 5 for all of them, he wasn't a major champion.

Going into the Masters, he was the clear favorite to win. He had just been picked up by Nike and was said to be getting $25 million a year, and his swing was looking great. He had the golf world eating out of the palm of his hand, and the tournament was his to lose.

The directors of the tour adored him. He was young and devastatingly handsome, drawing thousands of women to suddenly take an interest in watching the sport. He had re-vitalized the game, something which was sorely needed after the Tiger Woods scandal. Edward had brought golf back into the spotlight with his exciting wins and shining green eyes.

"Tiger and Edward are going into this round with a commanding five stroke lead," said an NBC reporter, "It's going to be tough for the rest of the field to catch up to them. Who do you like for this green jacket?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this after all the years of watching amazing golf from Tiger, but there's no question that this is Edward Cullen's."

"Bill," he laughed, "I'd have to agree with you. He plays too well and too precisely to lose this."

They went to commercial break, and Bill and Ronnie looked over at each other. "Our ratings are already up 47% from last year's Masters, and Cullen hasn't even teed off yet."

Bill shook his head. "The kid's good."

"Nice too," agreed Ronnie.

Later, after all of the field had teed off, a large crowd was gathered around the first tee, craning their necks to see the two players.

"First to the tee, from Scottsdale, Arizona, Edward Cullen!"

A tan, muscular man stepped up to the tee, confidently and loosely swinging his driver in the air. His bronze hair was tucked under a Nike hat, though some was curling outwards. He had a lazy grin on his face as he said a few words to his caddie.

"Nice and straight then," he said.

"Nothing but fairway in front of you, and wind at your back," his brother said with a nod. He could see his younger sibling was much more nervous than he let on, but didn't say anything.

Edward nodded and Emmett picked up the golf bag and moved away to give him room. The marshal held up his hands to quiet the eager crowd while Edward went through his pre-shot routine. He stepped up to his ball and hit the club with the precise, smooth swing which left golfers everywhere in awe.

Everyone watched the ball soar hundreds of yards in the air before landing in the middle of the fairway and rolling, ending about 100 yards short of the green.

Emmett was waiting to take his club and offer a fist bump.

"A short pitching wedge and little putt, and you've got yourself a birdie," he said lowly as Tiger's name was announced.

"Nothing more to it," Edward agreed with a cocky smirk.

They watched as Tiger teed up the ball and sent it flying in the air. It landed a few yards short of Edward, and everyone who was watching, whether in person or on TV, knew they had just began to watch an equally matched battle which would go to the last hole.

Edward pitched it close to the hole and had a beautiful tap in birdie on the par 4, going -1 under for the day. Tiger let his 2nd get away from him and was left with a long downhill putt. Edward kept his face a calm mask when the 14 time major champion made the putt.

"I think this first hole has just been a pretty good indication of what is to come, folks. Neither one of these men can afford to hit a wayward shot, because they might just let the tournament slip away from them."

The next few holes went very much the same. Their shots were within yards of one another consistently, each hitting the fairway and then the green before each making putts which clenched one's stomach.

It was on the 7th hole, when Edward dropped a stroke. He missed a four foot putt after Tiger had just made an eight foot one to save par.

"I shouldn't have missed that, there was no slope or break at all," Edward said lowly, angry with himself.

"It's one stroke," Emmett placated as he tucked the putter in the bag and walked behind his younger brother. "Just don't let it get to you. You know how much I hate talking you out of trees when you get all pissy."

Edward rolled his eyes.

"I'll get it back next hole," he said as they walked behind Tiger and his caddie to get to the tee box.

"The 8th isn't exactly a hole which people birdie. Take a par and get aggressive on a different hole."

Edward nodded distractedly, and Emmett frowned, knowing he had been ignored.

Much to Emmett's annoyance, Edward hit his driver. He somehow managed to hit the narrow fairway and leave himself only 150 to the green. Tiger laid off, opting to play to the hole safe and hit a four iron. He had 220 to the hole.

Edward's next shot, from over 400 feet away, went in the hole.

Everyone on the course could hear the roar of the crowd as they watched his golf ball trickle into the hole, dipping in decisively. Edward fist pumped, igniting the crowd into a frenzy and gave his brother a high five.

"Not a birdie hole?" he asked with a smirk, having to yell over the crowd.

"That was an eagle, you little shit."

Edward shrugged, and then looked over at the crowds lining the sides of the hole and nodded at them with a hand wave.

Tiger made nothing short of an incredible putt, tying them back up.

"You're going to need to get laid after this," Emmett muttered after Edward had teed off on the 9th.

Edward chuckled as they walked to his tee shot. He enjoyed having his brother as his caddie. He was a good golfer himself, but really good at keeping Edward focused and relaxed.

"Yes, that doesn't bode well with my lack of a girlfriend."

"Mila Kunis tweeted good luck to you, bro. You've entered the promised land."

"You're useless as a caddie."

Emmett snorted. "Carry your own damn bag then, son. This thing is heavier than shit."

Edward grinned. "Like I said, useless."

"After nine holes, Edward Cullen and Tiger Woods are closer than ever. The two remained tied at -10, with Bubba Watson the next one back, at -4. It's relatively clear that it will be one of these two coming up on top. As they enter the final nine holes, neither can afford any type of mistake. Any hazards or penalties would be the end of either of them."

Tiger and Edward both pared the 9th hole before making the turn to the 10th, a long par 3 which Edward had almost gotten a hole in one on the day before.

"The wind looks like it's going right to left, so with the right side pin placement, you're going to want to hit a fade."

The crowd cheered as Tiger hit his on the green, towards the back.

"Good old five iron it is," Edward agreed, pulling a club out of his bag.

Edward went through his routine, just as he did before every shot. He stepped up and hit it just like it would any other shot.

The moment the club made contact with the ball, he knew he'd mishit it somehow.

The ball hit the face of his club and then, instead of going straight in the air, in the direction of the hole, it flew to the right in a path so mishit Edward's mouth fell open as he watched it sail towards the bushes which had out of bounds on the other side of them.

"Left!" he shouted at the ball with a curse on the tip of his tongue.

The ball flew straight towards the bushes, where marshals were moving to avoid it. Edward lost sight of it as it went around the corner of the large bush.

Edward slammed his club onto the ground as the crowd went silent.

He held his hand out to Emmett for another ball, and when he wasn't tossed one, he looked at Emmett in confusion.

"They say it's in," he said, looking at the marshal's and their signaling.

"What the hell?" he said, looking back with furrowed eyebrows.

Then they saw some medics rushing over to those bushes.

"Shit, I think you might have hit someone."

Without a word, Edward rushed past Tiger who had started to walk with his caddie. He strode down the hill with long strides, getting to the area of the bushes. As he got closer, he saw someone lying on the ground with two people kneeling next to the body.

With a quickened heart, he jogged past a golf ball he knew was his, and went to the person he had hit.

There was a beautiful woman lying on the ground, her long brown hair spread around her and her eyes closed as the medics spoke to her.

"Is she alright?" Edward asked as he neared them.

He crouched down by the very pretty girl in almost a protective way, shielding her from the view of the grandstand.

"She took the shot straight to the head," one of the medics replied, as the other gently probed the side of her head. "She's unconscious."

For a moment, golf didn't matter. Tiger Woods and the Masters were forgotten. Winning wasn't on his mind.

She was the only thing that mattered.

"Her vitals are good," the woman said, taking her hand away from the girl's neck.

Edward looked around and saw a couple marshals around as Emmett approached. "Why was she here?" he demanded.

"She's a journalist, sir. She had a pass to spectate," an older man replied.

Edward looked back and saw a press pass on a lanyard around her neck, with the name Bella Swan, on it. His eyes traveled higher when he saw her eyelids began to flutter. Soon, he saw big brown eyes, wincing at either the light, or the fingers on her head.

When he heard her whimper, he moved over and took one of her hands into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Easy there," the medic said, "Try not to move. You were nailed pretty nicely with a golf ball."

She winced again.


"You remember then?" she asked, appearing relieved.

Bella let out a tiny groan. "Nice tee shot, Cullen."

Now it was Edward who winced.


Bella's eyes met his, and even though she was in pain, they seemed to twinkle as she spoke, "Ass."

"I've been called worse," he replied with a smile, relieved to hear her talking and well.

"Sir, we're going to need you to step back for a moment so we can do some primary concussion tests," the medic said.

Edward reluctantly nodded before giving her hand another squeeze and standing up. He moved as the medic took his spot, both of them talking now.

"Bro, get over here," Emmett said a few yards away. He stepped around his golf ball and went over to where his brother was speaking with a ruling marshal.

"Where does he have to play his ball from?" Emmett was asking.

"Huh?" Edward said, looking around in confusion. He then realized everyone in the grand stand was watching him. Tiger and his caddie were on the green, both watching as well.

So much for focus.

"Your ball was probably headed out of bounds and that girl's head got in the way of it."

"Bella," he supplied.

Emmett seemed exasperated. "Well Bella then, basically took a bullet for you."

"What's the ruling on a ball hitting a spectator then?" Edward asked, tearing his gaze away from where she was still lying.

"Well, because of rule 19-1, a player's ball in motion and then accidentally deflected or stopped by any outside agency, is a rub of the green, and the ball must be played as it lies."

"With a penalty?" Edward asked.

The marshal shook his head. "No penalty stroke is to be assessed.

"What if people think I knew her, and she dove in front of it or something?" Edward asked. If he did win, he wanted it to be without question or taint.

"Based on the footage, we have sufficient proof to see that the spectator was very much unsuspecting when the ball hit her."

"So he just hits from there?" Emmett asked, a hint of a grin on his face. Edward could save par from there.

"Provided the spectator is moved out of the way first," the marshal said with a nod.

Edward nodded and they both thanked him.

"That girl just saved your ass," Emmett muttered as Edward pulled an extra hat out of his bag.

Edward said nothing as he looked over at her. Even though Bella may have just saved him the entire tournament, he felt horrible. It hurt like hell to be struck by a ball; Edward knew that his must have had plenty of force. And she was so damn tiny.

"I know," he said quietly as he signed his name on the bill of the Nike hat.

"Edward Cullen has to play his ball from where it lies, in accordance with the USGA rules. I'm sure he's glad he got such a good break, and the ball stayed in bounds, but you can see that he's rather distraught. No pro ever wants to put a spectator in harm's way, and Edward looks as if he feels awful. It'll be interesting to see if he can keep his concentration after this."

The two medics moved to help Bella slowly into a sitting position. Edward approached cautiously.

"She doesn't appear to have a major concussion, and she was unconscious for less than a minute, but we're going to take her to the clubhouse and monitor her just to be sure," one of the medics said. "It is definitely a minor one, though."

Edward went over and again, crouched in front of her, a sheepish smile on his face.

"I'm really sorry, Bella."

Bella smiled softly, clearly still in pain. "It's alright. I just happened to be there for your first bad shot in four days."

Edward chuckled. "It really was terrible."

Bella grinned but then winced when the sunlight seemed to catch her eye. Edward remembered the hat in his hand.

"This should get you back to the clubhouse. I don't want the sun irritating your eyes," he said, offering her it.

Bella took the hat with a grateful smile and put it slowly on her head, over her hair, pulling the bill down.

"Thank you," she said.

"Thank you. You might have just saved me," he replied.

"Trust me," Bella cringed, "It was inadvertent. I admire your playing, but not enough to take one purposefully to the head."

Edward laughed. "Fair enough."

"You can make it up to me though," she said as the medics started coming to help her stand.

"How's that?" he wondered, knowing he'd buy her a pony if she asked.

"Kick Tiger's ass."

Edward smirked.

"Win this tournament and I'll forgive you for the wayward shank," she said with a smile.

Edward smiled as he stood up with her.

"You got it."

"Go save par," she said.

Edward smiled. "I'll come find you in the clubhouse after my round."

"Before or after the green jacket?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

Edward merely winked in response as she began to slowly walk away, being helped by the two medics.

The crowd clapped as they watched Bella being helped onto a waiting golf cart, glad to see the woman okay. Edward knew she must have been on national TV, sprawled on the ground.

He hoped she'd forgive him for that one.

"You ready to go?" Emmett asked, offering him a 56 degree wedge.

"Let's do this," he said, taking the club with a renewed sense of drive.

Edward chipped the ball within two feet of the hole and putted for a par, while Tiger two putted and also tapped in for a par.

"Lucky break," Tiger commented shortly as they crossed to the next hole.

"Definitely," he agreed with the same calm tone.

The two golfers continued to battle on for the next few holes, each of their shots just as good as the others.

Edward could feel that he could be playing better, it was coursing through him with a certainty which made his heart pound.

It was right there inside of him. He just needed something to push him there.

"Ronnie, have you seen this? Over 2.7 million more people have just tuned in to watch this."

On the 17th hole, Edward and Tiger were both tied once again. The fairway was hard to hit, and Tiger had just done so well with an iron, playing it safe.

Edward was arguing with Emmett about club choice. "Hit an iron, you can crush it onto the fairway and then hit a 3 wood, just like you've been doing. It's a par 5 and if your drive isn't perfect, you're in that thick rough."

Edward shook his head. "If I hit my driver, we're in position for another eagle."

"Or a bogey," Emmett said.

"I can do it," he replied, pulling his driver out of his bag.

"Bill, I disagree with this club choice. It's a whole lot of risk. Cullen is much steadier with his irons than with his driver. I don't like this."

Edward went through his routine, expect this time, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glance of the clubhouse.

With a slight smile on his lips, he set up to the ball and then smoothly struck his driver, letting the ball sail 100 yards past where Tiger's landed before dropping harmlessly onto the fairway.

The crowd erupted as they saw the ball land, and Edward knew these next two holes would not soon be forgotten.

Tiger hit his ball, absolutely bombing a three wood which ended just short of the green. With a calm head, Edward answered with a three wood of his own, landing the ball on the green, leaving himself a flat putt.

Tiger chipped it close and had a tap in birdie, but Edward answered with a solid putt, holding his breath as the ball dipped into the hole from the side. He lifted his putter up in the air, starting even more chaos with the cheers.

One hole later, and they were both on their final green. Tiger had reached the green in two with an incredible second shot, leaving him with a one foot putt. Edward hadn't hit the green, and instead was on the fringe ready to chip. Unless he chipped in, they would go to playoff holes.

Edward looked at the ball as he swung his club over it, taking in a deep breath. He needed to find something to ground his mind, so he could execute the chip he knew he had to.

He closed his eyes briefly before pulling Bella's words into his mind, and the promise he made to the journalist.

When he opened his eyes, he let out the breath he was holding and put his club next to the ball. With a confident swing of his arms, be moved through his swing and sent the ball just slightly in the air, landing it a couple feet short of the pin.

Everyone held their breaths as the ball rolled the rest of the way, and when the ball dropped in, Edward's heart stopped.

Then the cheers erupted, a noise so deafening and so utterly brilliant, Edward knew he would never forget it.

"There you have it folks!" Bill laughed, "After a spectacular fight to the very end, Edward Cullen has pulled through and is the winner of this year's Masters!"

Tiger shook Edward's hand, offering him sincere congratulations, as well as the advice to enjoy what was ahead of him. Edward was humbled by the veteran's words and smiled as he accepted them.

They were ushered through the throngs of people in order to get to the clubhouse to sign score cards and turn them in. Emmett was basically jumping up and down their entire walk, a giant beam on his face as they were escorted through the mob of people, all screaming and cheering Edward's name.

Edward wasn't able to find any time to slip away to find that girl with the pretty brown eyes and the sassy smile.

Instead, before he knew it, he was shaking the hand of the director of the PGA as it was announced, "Edward Cullen, this year's Master's champion."

"Edward, what a riveting and incredible day it was for you. It's been such a journey to get your first major. With that eagle on 8, and then again on 17, how do you put your round today into words?"

With a smile, Edward shook his head. "I don't know if there are words. I really felt like I could play this course and beat it. I was playing some of my best golf I've ever played, and I just don't know. I got lucky on some, and things just all came together."

People laughed as the director said, "I think lucky pretty much describes the 10th hole for you."

Edward smiled. "It's always a really scary thing when someone gets hit with a ball, and I'm so happy that Miss Swan is going to be alright."

"How hard was that chip you had, on the 72nd hole? Because you knew Tiger would make that putt and force a playoff if you didn't hole it."

"It was difficult, but I had something to keep me focused," he replied.

"Well, I'd like to congratulate you again on an incredible performance today. It's now time to present you with that green jacket. Charl, if you would please."

Edward turned as the previous year's champion slid the green jacket through his arms and congratulated him.

"Edward, congratulations, I'm very proud of you," some guy who had won the tournament previously, but Edward couldn't place, said.

The next hour or so was a whirlwind. He was congratulated by dozens of people, fellow pros and other wise. He met with the crowd of people still waiting to see him in his green jacket and was presented with the trophy before having to go and talk to more media outlets. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he spoke and took it all in.

Darkness had crept over Augusta National, and soon people began to finally disperse. The fans left, as well as the media, having gotten the shots and quotes they needed. Even Edward's family and friends had mostly gone back to the hotel where they promised a celebration.

"Are you driving yourself back?" Emmett asked in the player's locker room.

"Yeah, there's something I have to do before I meet you guys," he said.

Emmett grinned but said nothing.

Edward searched around the entire clubhouse, which was no small feat considering the massive size of the building. He asked people if they'd seen Bella, or the medics, but many had been overwhelmed with the huge crowds and hadn't seen her.

After half an hour of searching, Edward left the clubhouse and headed towards the player's parking lot, his shoulders slumping in defeat, even though he'd won a major title.

He found her there.

"Congratulations," she said as he approached her. She had an ice pack in her hand.

Edward was emboldened by his win, and all that had took, and was slightly desperate after looking for her for that long. He was tired, yet all the adrenaline had not left his body.

And she was so beautiful.

He crossed the space between them and surely, with the grace of a champion, put his hands gently on each side of her face and let his lips descend down to hers.

She stilled for a second before melting against him, her lips moving to meet his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her height as she returned his kiss.

They kissed in the parking lot, wrapped up in each other as if they'd known one another for years. They were strangers; he'd never seen her till that day. But he knew there was something special about her, something he couldn't let go.

She clung to him and he refused to release her until each of their hearts were racing and they were gasping for air.

Edward saw Bella shiver in the chilly spring air, still wearing only a golf tank top.

"Are you cold?" he asked, seeing the goose bumps on her arms.

He didn't even wait for a response as he shrugged out of his prized jacket. He ignored her protests as he slid the jacket up her arms.

"You look better in it than any golfer ever has," he said with a grin.

Bella was positively swimming in it. The sleeves were far too long for her, and the length way too big for her little torso. She looked adorable.

"Thank you," he said quietly, meeting her wide eyed gaze.

"For what?" she asked.

"For being my lucky break."

Bella stroked her fingers down the side of his face with a content smile on hers.

"You didn't need luck," she said.

Edward smiled as he laced his fingers through hers.

"I wasn't talking about the round."


"We welcome our viewers just joining us for the 2012 US Open! We are kicking off coverage to four exciting days of golf. Going into this week, the favorite once again is Edward Cullen. The man seems invincible ever since the 10th hole at Augusta National, where an outside agency changed everything for him. It seems to me, Bill, like she still is."

AN: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed Golferward, because it was a ton of fun for me to write!

Liked it? Hated it? Confused? Lemme know! :)