Rescue Me

A Fandom 4 Oklahoma O/S

by JiffyKate

Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight or a donkey named Tanya, but we enjoy writing stories about both.


Mundane.

Boring.

Routine.

Blah.

That was how I used to describe my drive home. Truthfully, I'd leave work and precisely thirty-three minutes later, I'd be pulling into my drive. I usually didn't remember much of the in-between.

I've driven the same road for so long now that I knew it like the back of my hand. I could probably make the commute with my eyes closed. But, something happened a few weeks ago, though, that makes me keep my eyes wide open and on high alert.

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon and I was lost in a Bruno Mars trance on my way home from work. My mind was anywhere but on the road, somewhere up in the clouds; out of nowhere, an electric blue motorcycle came flying past me, catching my attention.

Oh, hell no, Mr. Motorcycle Man! You're not passing me and my cherry-red Camaro!

I sped up to catch him, reclaiming my spot in front of him.

I really have no explanation for my behavior, other than I don't like people passing me.

As I exited off of the turnpike, he did as well, which peaked my interest. When I put on my left turn signal to head toward the small town I live in, again, so did he. We played a game of cat-and-mouse all the way to the main stoplight in town, where he turned left and I went straight.

And, that was how my slightly crazy, unrealistic obsession began. Now, my new favorite pastime was driving home and searching for the electric blue motorcycle.

Since that day, we've passed each other about a dozen times or more. I think he knows my game. He knows I'm going to pass him if he passes me, but he does it anyway. Now, this could totally be made up in my head. He could have no idea that my little red car even exists, but I hope that he does. I've been known to have a vivid imagination, but I like to think that he notices me the way I definitely notice him.

Last Wednesday, the obsession took a huge leap forward. I hadn't seen him the whole way home and I didn't think much about it. There hadn't been any rhyme or reason to the days that I'd see him...at least, not yet. I tried to find a pattern, but there wasn't one; so, the fact that I didn't see the blue motorcycle didn't bother me.

When I got to town, I made my normal mid-week stop at Hell-Mart. Other people may refer to it as Walmart but, to me, it's Hell-Mart. In the small town I live in, it's the only place to buy anything, which means that it's where everyone goes...which means that you're bound to run into someone you don't like or don't want to see.

As I was walking out with my few bags, I stopped abruptly, frozen in my tracks. There, in front of me, was an electric blue motorcycle with a fuckhawt guy climbing on. I barely caught the bottom half of his face as his helmet slid over his chin, but what I saw made me weak in the knees. His jaw was strong and defined. There was a slight amount of scruff and his lips looked full and kissable. Of course, I saw this from about ten yards away, but it only furthered my obsession.

I stood there and watched him drive away, none the wiser to my observations.

In that moment, my obsession turned into a fantasy, because I now had a face to go with the motorcycle - albeit half a face - but it was enough to make me want to see more...want to know more.

And, that was the first night I dreamed of Motorcycle Man.

At first, my dreams were mostly innocent. I'd see him, he'd turn his head to look at me as I passed, and he'd nod in recognition. I'd wake wanting more, wishing he'd take off his helmet. Something. Anything!

As I lay twisted in my sheets, my heart beating out of my chest and an ache between my legs, I tried desperately to remember the details of my most recent dream.

Like the first few times, he turned to look at me through his helmet, nodding, but instead of stopping there, he motioned for me to pull over.

When I did, he dismounted the motorcycle and sauntered back to my car. And when I say "sauntered", I mean sauntered. He walked slowly, helmet still in place; and when he got to my window, he motioned for me to roll it down.

It was like a silent movie, and was the director. As I roll the window down and he leans forward, resting his forearms on the door. His face only inches from mine. I knew he was talking to me, but I can't remember the words, as there's no voice to go with the face. The next thing I remember is that I'm getting out of the car, and he pounces - lips touching lips, hands on my hips, his body pressed to mine - but that's where it ended.

I'm left tangled in sheets and wanting more.

I glanced over at the clock and see that it's four thirty in the morning. My dad will be up soon. There's some sort of internal alarm clock on people over sixty which makes them wake up at the butt-crack of dawn. I decided to give up the hope of more sleep and go ahead and shower. A cold shower is just what I needed.

"Good morning, Bells."

"Morning, Dad."

"You're up early. Busy day at the office?"

"Nah, just couldn't sleep. I figured it was more beneficial to get up and get ready than to lay there, tossing and turning for another hour."

"Somethin' on your mind?"

"I guess you could say that," I said, smirking behind my coffee cup.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

No! A resounding no! Not with you!

Yeah, Dad. You see, there's this fucking hot guy that I pass on my way home from work, and I have seriously inappropriate dreams about him. I don't know his name or where's he's from or whether or not he's an axe murderer. Oh, and by the way, he drives a motorcycle. You're okay with that, right?

That would go over like a ton of bricks.

"Not really, but thanks anyway." My dad is great. He listens to much more nonsense than he has to from me, but I wouldn't even know where to start with this.

"Is it about a guy?"

"No!" I say, rinsing my coffee cup out and sitting it in the sink.

"Uh huh, OK." I see him smiling, as he looks out the kitchen window, toward the pasture.

"We sure could use some rain," I mentioned, ready to change the subject.

"Yeah. We don't get some soon, we'll be in a world of trouble. These hot summer days and dry fields only lead to one thing." He exhaled loudly, running his hand over his unshaven cheek. The worry is etched on his face through the lines on his forehead.

Wildfires. I know what he's talking about without him saying it. It's something that the farmers and ranchers around here have to worry about during the dog days of summer, especially when we don't get any rain.

I'm dreaming again. I know I shouldn't be, but I can't seem to stop the images flooding my mind. Images of my motorcycle man...his legs and ass covered by tight denim as he mounts his bike; which, naturally, lead to images of him mounting me. I still can't see his face, but I see enough of his stubble-covered jaw to make me want to run my tongue over it. His body is pressed against mine and he's hard. Everywhere. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want this stranger. I'm finally about to give in to temptation and remove his helmet, when my phone rings.

Wait. What?

Oh, yeah. Dreaming. Again.

Shit.

I popped my head up, trying to get my bearings. Panic and embarrassment flooded my body when I realized that I was not in my bed. No, that would be somewhat normal behavior. Instead, I was at my desk, drool now covering my keyboard and my phone still ringing off the hook.

I quickly put the receiver against my ear and answer with, "Bella Swan."

"For the love of Pete, Bella! I can't believe you fell asleep at work! You'd better get your ass in gear before Irina gets out of her meeting!"

"I know, Alice, I know. I swear I don't know what's wrong with me! I guess I just didn't sleep enough last night."

I loved my best friend, especially when she saved me from getting fired for sleeping on the job, but I wasn't ready to spill the deets about my sex dreams with the mystery guy. She'd probably suggest faking my car breaking down on the side of the road so that he could 'rescue' me or something.

Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.

No. No, Bella. You will not play games in order to meet that man. You'll either meet him in a normal, honest way, or you won't meet him at all. I refused to be one of 'those girls'...you know, the ones who lied and conned their way into a guy's pants. That wasn't me and I didn't plan on ever changing, hormones be damned.

"Well, you'd better get to bed early tonight. You can't risk getting caught sleeping here and, with your desk being smack-dab in the middle of our cubicle maze, it'll happen sooner than later! Irina won't think twice about firing you and then you'll be stuck at your parents' farm even longer!"

"I get it, Alice, I do. Thank you for looking out for me. I think I'm going to take a break and get some coffee. I'll see you at lunch?"

"Yep! Same place, same time! Toodles!"

As I stirred cream and sugar into my cup of caffeinated heaven, I pondered my life so far. I've always been Bella Swan - Good Girl and I liked it that way. I had zero regrets but I couldn't help but wonder how different my life would be if I'd taken more risks.

Growing up on a farm made me tougher than most of the girls I knew; I liked getting dirty and I wasn't afraid of hard work. It also provided stability for me. You had to stay on schedule or the entire farm, including the crops and animals, suffered. I guessed that was why I was so regimented with my job as a fact checker. Well, I used to be regimented before I started playing leapfrog with a gorgeous biker who won't let me get any sleep.

Don't get me wrong, I loved to have fun. When I was away at college, I partied with the best of 'em but after I graduated and couldn't find a job, I had to tuck tail and move back in with my parents. I loved my parents; they were the best but I was ready to be on my own for real, which was why I was working this menial job and saving every cent so I could buy my own place.

I just wanted to be...free.

The next time I saw Motorcycle Man, I was filling up my gas tank.

The roar of a motorcycle instantly pulled me from my usual daydream, my heart felt as though it was going to break its way out of my chest. The rational part of me realized that it could be any motorcycle, but the irrational part of me hoped that it was my motorcycle. Peeking through the open space next to the gas pump, I spotted the sleek blue and stainless steel pipes that I'd grown to love. As my eyes traveled from the bike on up, I can see him standing there - his boots, tight jeans, and leather jacket.

Holy hell!

He'd just taken his off his helmet and I was able to discern his entire face. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Fuck me!

I couldn't keep my eyes off him. I watched as he swiped his credit card to pay; when he slowly pushed the nozzle into his gas tank's opening, I actually felt my thighs clenching together.

Who knew pumping gas could be so erotic?

I watched him for a few minutes longer, gasping out loud when Motorcycle Man carefully pulled the nozzle halfway out, giving it a little shake before removing it completely and putting it back in place. I assumed my reaction was because his movements made me think of him stroking himself; but, in reality, it was because I still had a death-grip on my own nozzle and my gas tank was overflowing onto my shoes.

"Shit! Motherhumping ball sac!" I yelled before covering my mouth and pushing the rest of my verbal diarrhea back inside, hiding behind the gas pump.

I was beyond mortified. I hoped that nobody had overheard, but I really hoped my handsome stranger hadn't heard me. I'd have to find a different route into the city or leave at a different time, ensuring that we'd never see each other again. Just the thought of that happening made my chest hurt a tiny bit.

I was so pathetic.

I put the nozzle back where it belonged, reaching for the nearby paper towels to clean up my favorite black pumps. If they're ruined, I'd be so pissed, but I probably deserved it since I was spying on a complete stranger and not paying attention. I was a firm believer in karma and laws of the universe.

I grab a few towels and bend over to wipe at my shoes before I notice a pair of black boots facing me. At this very moment I find myself torn. On one hand, I really want these particular boots to belong to Motorcycle Man. I'd be able to see his face up close and possibly talk to him. On the other hand, though, I hope it's not him standing in front of me because then it would mean that he did hear my potty mouth and has now rushed over to help me clean gas off of my shoes. Quite the dilemma I find myself in this afternoon.

A throat cleared and I realized that I was still bent at the waist, a wad of paper towels in my hand. I slowly straightened my body and, as every vertebrae in my spine aligned themselves, my face blushed deeper and deeper - of course it was him standing in front of me.

He looked at me cautiously, probably wondering if I was going to spew pseudo-cuss words at him, before handing me the wad of towels was holding.

"Um, hey, are you all right? It looks like you had a little spill here."

His voice was like honey or caramel or any other delicious and sticky substance you'd want to taste on a regular basis. And, now I was imagining what it'd be like to taste his delicious and sticky substance on a regular basis.

Oh, my God, what is wrong with me? Could I be a bigger perv?

When I finally looked directly at his face, I could tell he was waiting on me to give him some sort of reply; I tried really hard to think of something cute and intelligent to say.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just totally jizzed myself with the gas and now I smell terrible."

What. The. Actual. Fuck!

I shouldn't be allowed in public ever again.

Surprisingly, he didn't seem shocked. He also didn't run away screaming. Instead, he laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that made me tingle all over. I wanted to hear it again and again.

"I've seen you before. You're Chevy Girl, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You drive a Chevy Camaro and you like to pass me on the turnpike."

O.M.G! He recognized me and he had a nickname for me, too! If I were alone, I'd be squealing and jumping up and down, but since I wasn't, I had to play it cool.

"Yep, that's me. I have a nickname for you, too, you know. It's Motorcycle Man."

Ah, there went that laugh again.

"Well, I guess that's as original as Chevy Girl. I'm just glad you named me Motorcycle Man and not Motorcycle Boy," he said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from saying anything about it being obvious he was all man, and noticed that his eyes zeroed in on my mouth before his tongue quickly licked at his own plump lips.

There was so much I wanted to say, but all of it would be inappropriate. As I looked at my watch, I realized that if I didn't leave in the next two minutes, I was going to be late.

"It was really nice to put a face with the motorcycle," I told him.

"Well, in case we meet again," he said, a hopeful tone to his voice, "my name's Edward." He offered his hand and I gave him mine.

"Bella," I said, as we shook hands.

My interactions with Motorcycle Man went back to normal after our fateful run-in at the gas station. He passed me. I passed him. Occasionally, we'd wave.

The best thing that came out of that day was that my dreams now had a face for their starring role. And, since I knew what his voice sounded like, they were no longer the silent movie type; I was getting them in full-color with surround sound - most of the sounds being mine, but the words he did speak were anything but PG...and I liked it.

I dreaded the next time I had to see him face to face without a window between us, because my face would probably explode from the heat it would radiate.

I came close to telling Alice about Edward, feeling the need to talk to someone, but I still didn't have much to say that wouldn't make me sound like a desperate, foolish schoolgirl with a crush on some man I hardly knew.

One night, my mom called while I was driving home from work and asked me to stop at the grocery store for a few things so that she wouldn't have to drive into town. Seeing that she cooked for me every night, I couldn't really object.

As I made my way out of the store, I started to dig for my keys, knowing that I'd tossed them into the bottomless pit that was my purse when I'd gotten out of the car. I tried to juggle the few bags and balance my purse on my knee, but failed miserably. The stupid, flimsy handle to one of the plastic bags broke, sending half a dozen canned food items rolling around the parking lot.

Fuck me running.

Most of the cans stayed relatively close to where I stood but there was one rogue can of beans that embracing its new-found freedom by continually rolling away until it was stopped by my favorite pair of black boots.

I retrieved the can before looking up and meeting Edward's green eyes, a smirk plastered on his face.

"We meet again, Chevy Girl."

"Seems as though you're always coming to my rescue."

"Is that bad? Are you one of those female activists who curses men?"

"No, it's just embarrassing, that's all."

"You do have a knack for getting yourself into situations," he said, following it up with the laugh I'd been dying to hear since the last time we were face to face.

"Thanks," I muttered and held up the can. "My mom wouldn't have been able to make her famous taco salad without these."

"Dinner with the parents?" he questioned.

"Why don't we just get all the embarrassment out of the way, shall we?" I asked. "I live with my parents on their farm," I continued.

"No shame in that. I just assumed a confident, self-sufficient woman like yourself," he said, gesturing with his eyebrows, "would have her own place."

"I've been saving up to buy my own house, but I'm not quite there yet."

"I hear ya. It's great that your parents are helping you out. You're lucky, you know?"

I noticed a hint of sadness in his voice and I was consumed with the desire to console him.

"Yeah, I know I am. What about you? Are you close to your parents?"

"Not physically. They're back home in Chicago."

"Chicago? Wow, you're far away from home." Before I knew what I was doing I blurted out, "Would you like to come have dinner with me and my parents?"

When I saw his face light up, though, I couldn't find a single regret in my body for asking a near-stranger to come to my house.

"You sure? I don't want to impose."

"I'm positive. My mom loves for people to eat her cooking. How about next Thursday?"

"OK, next Thursday!"

"My parents' farm is out on 760 Road. You take the first turn past the curve when you're going out of town and then it's the first drive on your right. You can't miss it."

"What time should I be there?"

"How about six thirty?"

"Sounds great. I'll see you then. Unless, of course, you try to run me off the road between now and Thursday," he said while winking at me.

Unfortunately, I was too busy swooning at his eye-flirting with me to come back with a snarky remark, so I just laughed and tried to will away my blush.

"See you later, Edward," I waved while walking backward to my car.

"Goodnight, Bella."

.

I stumbled a bit when his words hit my ear but I'm pretty sure I'd played it off well. Or, so I thought until I looked back at him and saw him shaking his head and laughing. Why was I such a freaking dork?

Two days.

Just two more days and Edward would be here. In my parents' house. Eating. With his mouth.

Holy geez!

Not that I was counting or anything.

Okay, I totally was.

I couldn't help it. Meeting Edward was the most exciting thing to happen to me in a very long time and I still didn't know much about him. I vowed to change that, though, starting on Thursday.

"Bella, are you daydreaming again?" my mom asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, Ma'am."

"Uh huh. You're thinking about your new...friend, aren't you? Edward?"

I couldn't help the smile that slowly appeared on my face. "Fine, Mom, I was. He just seems to be nice and cool and..."

"Bella! Renee!" my dad interrupted suddenly. "There's a wildfire headed our way! Dial 911 and then come help me outside!"

As quickly as my dad entered the kitchen, he was gone again and my mom and I hit panic mode.

"Bella, I'll call 911, you go on out with your daddy!"

I nodded and immediately ran outside to see what Dad wanted me to do.

The smell of burning grass hit me hard and the smoke from the nearby fire instantly made my eyes burn. I saw that my dad and cousin, Garrett, were on horseback, leading our cattle to a field that we kept well-grazed just for emergencies like this.

This wasn't the first fire we've had to deal with so I thought back to some other ways I could help. My training finally kicked in and I checked to make sure all our propane tanks were turned off. Next, I shut all the barn doors before I headed toward the stables.

Thank the Lord, my daddy knew to keep the horse trailer close to the stables because I was afraid that I wouldn't have enough time to drive it over before getting our three horses out. I opened the back door to the trailer and headed inside, grabbing some sugar cubes on my way.

Titan, one of our males, followed me into the trailer easily and, soon, I was headed back to the stables for our mare, Twilight. The air was thicker now and I had to slow down which caused me to inhale some smoke, triggering a coughing fit. I rubbed my eyes again and grabbed Twilight, leading her to the trailer.

I only had one more horse to load up. After that, Dad and Garrett should be finished and then we could focus on helping the firemen if they needed it. As soon as I thought of the firemen, I realized that I could hear their sirens headed our way. With a relieved sigh, I ran back into the stables to grab our other male.

Unfortunately, our third horse was proving to be more difficult to move. Tyler was easily spooked anyway, but now that the fire was getting closer, he really wasn't wanting to cooperate.

"Come on, damn it! Move!" I yelled as I pulled on his reins. After I tried the yelling and pulling route for a while and failed, I grabbed some more sugar cubes and tried to use those to coax him out, but he wasn't having any of that. Stubborn horse! He reminded me of my grandpa's donkey named Tanya. Now, that was one stubborn jackass.

Suddenly, I heard my daddy's voice calling for me, although I could only make out a few words here and there. It sounded like he was yelling for me to get out but he could've been telling me to get the horses out, too. I didn't have time to try and figure it out, though. I had to get Tyler into the trailer.

After sweet-talking him a little bit and gently tugging on the reins, Tyler finally took a few steps toward the stable door. Smoke was now inside the building, making it hard for both of us to see, but he seemed to trust me enough to follow me so I kept walking to the door.

My daddy screamed again but this time I heard my mom's voice, too. They both sounded like they were panicking, which made my stomach drop into my shoes.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

The sound of wood cracking brought my eyes to the roof right before I noticed that the stable had caught on fire. Tyler became spooked at this point and started rearing, trying to escape. I, of course, wasn't strong enough to hold onto him and, when he succeeded in breaking away from me, he took off through the back door, leaving me to fend for myself.

My instinct to escape and save myself gave me the push I needed to get out of the stable but the fire had other plans. I pulled the neck of my shirt over my mouth to keep from breathing in the smoke but it didn't keep me from coughing and wheezing.

Just as I was about to reach the doorway, I tripped over something and fell to the ground. The last thing I saw was the roof collapsing around me.

"Breathe, sweet girl, breathe for me."

That voice. I knew that voice. I wanted to hear it again. Please keep talking.

"My baby girl! Is she okay? Please, tell me she's okay!"

Mom? Why is my mom crying?

"Sir, is she hurt badly? I'll never forgive myself if my Bella is hurt."

Daddy, no, don't say that. I'm fine, right?

"Mr. Swan, I think your daughter will be fine but she needs to be examined by an EMT before we know for sure."

There's that voice again. It made me smile. I hope everyone can see that I'm smiling so they'll know I'm okay.

I felt a thumb rub my cheek before warm breath washed over me.

"Bella, can you hear me? Are you smiling, you crazy, adorable girl?"

The voice was closer now but I needed to see the face that went along with it. I slowly opened my right eye - just to take a peek - because, if I was wrong and Edward wasn't the one speaking to me, I was going to be pissed.

I saw a brief flash of the full lips I've dreamed about these past few weeks and decided to risk opening both eyes. I had to blink a few times before my eyes would focus but, when they did, the first thing I saw clearly was Edward's perfect face.

"Bella? Are you hurting anywhere?"

"I don't think so. What happened?"

"The roof of the stable you were in collapsed and you were knocked out. Are you sure your head doesn't hurt?"

I answered him by shaking my head but that was a mistake. My head now throbbed and I felt a bit dizzy. "Yeah, okay, maybe a little."

"I want you to stay here and be still while we wait for the EMTs, okay? The fire has been contained and everyone's safe here in your parents' house."

"Okay, but, Edward, why are you here? Did you come for dinner?"

Edward laughed softly before brushing the hair away from my face. "No, I'm a fireman, Bella. I was called out to help fight the wildfire." The smile on his face slowly morphed into a grimace when he continued. "When I heard the address that we were heading for, I immediately recognized it as the one you'd given me the other night at the grocery store. I-I got to you as quickly as I could, Bella. I probably broke some protocol along the way but I had to make sure you were okay before I could do anything else."

I wasn't sure how to react to Edward's words. They surprised me, thrilled me, and warmed me; but, most of all, they made me crave him even more. I wasn't sure if it was the right time to admit this to him so I said the first thing I could think of.

"I'm sorry you keep having to rescue me, Motorcycle Man."

"I'm not, Chevy Girl."

I held my breath as I watched Edward's mouth move closer to mine. When I finally felt our lips touch - gently, at first, but quickly morphing into more - I was flooded with relief and warmth but, most of all, hope.

Hope that dreams do come true.

A/Ns:

As always, THANK YOU FOR READING! We've thought about making this into a two-shot. If you would be interested in reading more, let us know! -Jenny Kate & Jiff