Author: DetectiveSimms

Email: noir@gloomsday.net

Pairing: Anita/Edward

Category: romance

Rating: R - mild language, suggestion of violence, and snogging+ :)

Author's Note: This isn't so much an Alternate Universe fic, as a slightly twisted one. It begins with the idea that Edward has never met up with Richard and Jean-Claude, and they have never met him. If AUs squick you, don't worry about it: it's not a major thing here, as the story is mostly about a relationship between Anita and Edward. I should like to think it's set after Obsidian Butterfly.

Description: A bit of a romantic vignette where Anita steps in to save her ex-boyfriends from Death's grasp.
 
 

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The night was warm, a pleasant early spring in St. Louis. Several miles from the city, we see three men on the outskirts of a dark wood. One slightly psychopathic human, one seductive master vampire, and one pissed-as-hell werewolf. The human stands very resolutely, a Luger in his hand with silver-coated bullets inside it. He is pointing it at the two other men who stand stiffly about twelve feet in front of him. The vampire appears quite calm, but is still watching himself and this human closely. The human has proven tonight that he is experienced with guns and other defensive techniques. The werewolf is clenching and unclenching his fists very slowly, alternately counting numbers in his head and thinking of how he could get out of this alive without killing anything.

Edward stood still, his face blank as he kept his gun levelled at the werewolf and vampire in front of him. This had started out as just another hunt after a lycanthrope who had a hefty price on his head, when these two had gotten involved. They apparently didn't want their friend dead, and had prevented Edward from killing the lycanthrope he had been hunting. Edward was angry. He wasn't used to letting others interrupt him when the sights on his gun were level with his prey's head, so to speak, but the meddling werewolf and aloof vampire had screwed him over on this mission. He was now going to take both their lives in exchange for one that had got away. The night was almost looking up for him. He wouldn't be paid for these two, but that wouldn't retract much pleasure from the actual killing.

Richard and Jean-Claude lacked Edward's perspective, however, and were not enjoying themselves in the least. Richard had opened his marks fully, desperate for some backup from Anita, even though he was still loathe to bring her into any fights. Anita had responded with her own unique energy, reassuring him that she was nearby and would come quickly. He thought she might be able to sneak up on this madman who had been after Jason's life tonight. The man in front of him was dressed in all black, a long trenchcoat sweeping about him in the slight breeze. He had an utterly blank expression on his face which bothered Richard to no end. He was used to seeing at least a minimal degree of emotion on people's faces. Their captor's visage showed that he could kill Richard and Jean-Claude both without feeling any regret; this did not bode well with Richard.

"Why did you step in for the werewolf?" Edward asked suddenly. He had been studying his two hostages for a few silent minutes now, and asked his question out of pure curiosity. Though he was learning from Anita, he still wasn't used to enquiring about the normal feelings of people. Moderate interrogation of anything he was going to kill made the game interesting, more so than usual, and it gave him another learning method.

Speaking in a clipped tone, Richard replied: "He was my friend. I wouldn't let him die."

In a slightly less angry tone, Jean-Claude spoke: "Jason is an acquaintance, and a good servant." Pausing to smile slightly, Jean-Claude continued a moment later. "Unlike my werewolf friend here, I probably won't die from the silver-coated bullets in that gun." He shrugged. "I'm simply not as worried about my own life."

Edward narrowed his eyes at the black-haired man in front of him. "How did you know I had silver-coated bullets?"

Jean-Claude looked a bit surprised, but replied easily: "You were hunting a werewolf. Deductive reasoning; it seemed logical you'd need silver."

"Are most vampires used to being pursued with silver shot?" Edward queried, his expression hardening somewhat more.

Richard spoke this time. "A friend of ours uses a lot of silver shot. We're used to it."

Edward was still for a moment, then nodded. He inhaled deeply, clenching his hands tighter around his gun. Time to get this show on the road. He was just placing pressure on the trigger when they all heard something crashing through the woods behind them.

"What the hell?" Richard muttered, scenting the breeze, but they were upwind from whatever was stumbling through the trees at a slow pace. Edward didn't lower his gun any, but was now paying more attention to the forest than his two victims. Jean-Claude noticed this and started to move, but caught Edward's attention and was stopped by the gun steadying on his head and Edward's cool gaze focusing on him again. Sighing slightly to himself, Jean-Claude went back to being frozen in place. Meanwhile, whatever was crashing gracelessly through the forest had finished its most arduous trek and had made the clearing. It was a zombie, fairly rotted. It lumbered toward them, making all three men stare at it in surprise. Edward didn't have his flamethrower with him, so it looked like a match of bullets if it was going to attack him. If it wanted the werewolf or the vamp, they could fend for themselves; he'd enjoy the show and finish killing them afterward if the zombie didn't do his job.

But the zombie wasn't interested in attacking them. When it was within ten feet of them, they noticed it had a sheet of paper clutched in its hands. It stopped two feet from Edward, who was gazing half at it and half at Richard. Richard and Jean-Claude, however, were eying the zombie with mistrust and wariness.

"Are you Edward?" the zombie spoke in a rough, gravelly voice that sounded as though it wasn't used much. Considering it looked as though it had been dead for several years, and rapidly reassembled, it probably hadn't spoken for a while. Wondering what the hell was going on, Edward replied in the affirmative. The zombie stretched his hand out with the folded paper.

"You're Edward?" came Richard's voice suddenly, his voice filled with skepticism and undisguised surprise. Edward took the proffered letter, his gaze focused again on Richard.

"Yes. ."

"Are you dating Anita Blake?" Richard asked now in a wary tone that was directed at Edward, instead of the zombie, which had backed away a few feet and stood still, it's decrepit face sagging into blankness.

Edward was secretively surprised at this question and the werewolf's knowledge, but he let nothing show on his still passive face. "Yes." Seeing the extra surprise and additional anger that quickly followed, Edward put two and two together and realized that his two captured beasties were quite probably Anita's ex's.

Jean-Claude's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward before he could stop himself. The gun refocusing on his head reminded him what was going on, and he froze in his spot again. Edward flipped open the piece of paper with one hand without looking, keeping his gun hand permanently pointed at Jean-Claude and Richard.

"It's from Anita," he said quietly before beginning to read the letter aloud:

"Edward,

You fucking asshole, I know you've got Jean-Claude and Richard. Don't touch a hair on them or I'll have that pretty blond head of yours on my mantle.

I sent the zombie from a cemetary closer to you than I am. Don't hurt it.

Love always,

Anita"

Edward gave an amused smile and examined the expressions on the men in front of him. He still kept the gun pointed at them, despite Anita's warning. He always felt better having a weapon up and aimed, just in case.

Richard had a peturbed expression on his face, his mouth turned down in a frown, his forehead creased with annoyance. Jean-Claude looked thoughtful and somewhat distant, and he looked as though he was about to speak, when they all heard something else crashing through the wood.

"Suppose it's another zombie?" Richard muttered to himself, not really expecting an answer. Jean-Claude wasn't paying attention, and Edward just didn't give a damn, so long as it wasn't going to attack him. A minute later, Anita Blake came crashing through the trees and out into the open, gun drawn and eliciting stares. She had been running full-out, hoping to get to her ex's sides before her current boyfriend killed them unknowingly.

Seeing them all standing there, alive (well, as alive as some of them were going to get. .) and in the appearance of good health, she paused to slow her breathing and calm herself before walking over.

"I was afraid I wouldn't get here in time," Anita commented dryly.

"You almost didn't, ma petite," Jean-Claude replied in a soft tone. "Your, ahh, boyfriend is quite the zealous hunter."

Edward stiffened when Jean-Claude called Anita 'ma petite', which Anita was secretly pleased to note. Richard spoke to her in a much less subdued tone than the vampire's, however. "Anita, how can you date this nut? He's a murdering psychopath; he was after Jason!"

Anita arched her eyebrows in an unperturbed manner and, without looking, reached out and pressed firmly down on Edward's still outstretched arms. He resisted by natural instinct, but his trust of the small woman beside him eventually won out. He lowered his gun after a minute, and Anita retracted her arm before replying to an annoyed Richard. "Because we understand each other."

Jean-Claude looked pained at this response. "And did we, ma petite, not understand each other?"

"Jean-Claude, I never understood you or your motives, and what I didn't understand you refused to tell me. Or you lied about it." Anita was thinking specifically about Damian and the revelations he had made about Jean-Claude, Richard, and the marks that held the triumvirate together. She was still angry about all that had been kept from her, that she should have known. "It doesn't bid for a healthy relationship."

"And dating a madman with no scruples does?" Richard retorted, spurred beyond annoyance into real anger now.

Anita snorted. "I am not having this conversation with you right now, Richard. We're going to go home and get some sleep." She put special emphasis on the 'we', taking Edward's arm somewhat possessively, implying that Edward was going with her, thank you very much. Richard sighed, looking away with an angry expression, but almost appearing resigned. Maybe he'll get used to it, Anita mused silently. Yeah, right.

Through this minor interrogation, Edward had stood quite still, his face still as emotional as a particularly antisocial door. In fact, in the utter lack of expression, it was somewhat similar to the zombie which had been forgotten and was standing outside the cluster of people. Now Anita turned to it, and it looked upon her for instruction.

"Return to your grave, and be at rest once again. Disturb no one more tonight." The zombie turned and ambled off in a stiff gait into the woods; everyone's eyes followed it until it was no longer visible in the descending fog.
 
 

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As soon as we went into the house, I slid out of my shoes and folded my jacket across the back of the couch. Edward was right behind me, removing his trench coat when I headed into the dark kitchen.

"I'm going to make some coffee," I called back over my shoulder. Edward didn't reply; I hadn't really expected him to. I was just putting the filter in when I was surprised by the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me from behind, his scent and warmth encloaking me comfortingly. He moves so silently sometimes; I think he does it to startle me more often than not. I jumped and nearly dropped the coffee pot; nervous, me? I relaxed back against his chest after a moment though, snuggled in quite comfortably against the soft black shirt he was wearing.

"I'd appreciate it if you would leave my friends alone, Edward," I said quietly, filling the container with water.

I felt him smile into my hair as he nuzzled his face in it. "Had I known the were the infamous Richard and Jean-Claude," he said, voice muffled, "I wouldn't have threatened them. . Possibly." After a moment he continued in a slightly annoyed tone: "Or let them distract me from my target."

Finished with the coffee, I turned around in his arms and glared up at him. He gave me his best bland face, one eyebrow arching in question to my annoyance. "Your target," I said, poking him in the chest sharply, "Is also my friend, and under my protection. I don't want you near him."

A small, dangerous smile slid onto his face. His eyes were the emotionless norm that had once made me shiver, but I was almost immune to them now. Time and experience will numb you to anything. The smile, however, he only turned on me when he was displeased with my stand. Well, he could just get to used to it; my friends were not going to be his victims. I was quite firm on that.

"I hunt the monsters, Anita, and there's a generous amount out for him dead. What makes you think you can persuade me out of the hunt?"

I gave him a cool look before reaching up and pressing my lips against his gently, a mere brush of skin. He remained passive, but I knew that wouldn't last for long. I didn't give him a chance to respond. I slid my tongue along his bottom lip, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling him flush against me in one smooth motion. He let out a small gasp, and I smiled secretly to myself. It would never cease to amaze me that I can cause this normally stone-cold assassin to laugh, or gasp, or moan. Idly, I wondered if he felt the same amazement towards me, but then Edward's mouth opened over mine, and I stopped worrying about such things.

Our tongues flowed against each other, slickly moving and caressing. I shuddered in his arms, which had tightened around my waist and across the small of my back possessively. A very long, slow kiss ensued, his hands rubbing up and down my back, my hands splayed open across his shoulder blades. The kiss ended with me sucking his bottom lip into my mouth momentarily, before running my tongue once again over it.

We pulled back enough to be able to see each other clearly. His normally ice-blue eyes were now darkened to a vibrant royal blue. I gave him a pleased, and somewhat smug, smile, placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose. I extracted myself from his embrace and walked past him to get a coffee mug. When I spoke, my voice came out low and seductive. I didn't even have to work at it; Edward always has that effect on me. "I should think, Edward, that you would know exactly how I plan to persuade you, by now."

I heard quick footsteps behind me and was halfway turned, when his hands found my hips and spun me the rest of the way round to face him. He cupped my face with those familiar, callused hands, and then his lips were on mine again, incessant, demanding. The kiss that followed was nothing like the previous one; this was harder and deeper, his mouth and tongue pressed firmly against mine as if he wanted to meld us together. He pulled back suddenly and kissed my jaw line, before moving higher. When I felt his hot mouth descend upon my ear, a shaking breath issued from me. Feeling his tongue trace the curves and indentions of my ear was leaving me breathless and weak-kneed. I imagine he knew exactly what it was doing to me, along with his hands sliding up and down my sides, underneath my shirt. He pulled back completely then, only his hands left resting motionless on my ribs, just under my breasts.

Edward's dark eyes surveyed me and apparently approved of my delectably-ravished appearance, because he smiled a real smile, pleasantly. "Anita, you can't always persuade me with sex. Distract me briefly, yes, but never change my thoughts completely."

Gathering enough of my wits about me to analyze his words, I fake-pouted, trying my best to look indignant, and pulling it off. He quirked an eyebrow at me, questioning. I think my haughty tone only further surprised him. "Distract you briefly? If I remember correctly, Eddy," stressing this nickname I had recently dared call him by kissing him again, lightly, "The last time I, ahh, distracted you, it was anything but brief." I said this last word with a face, as though it were distasteful to me. The frown that he had pulled at the mention of the name 'Eddy' dissipated to be replaced with a smug grin.

"True. . I suppose spending the entire afternoon in your bed wasn't the exact definition of brief." He spoke in an even tone, as though he were considering my idea thoroughly. I had to struggle not to snort.

I saw the glint in his eye moments before he had swept my feet out from under me. With an oomph of surprise, I fell partway to the floor. Only his firm grip on my arms steadied me, as he finished lowering a very surprised me slowly to the linoleum.

He was kneeling above me, legs straddling my hips on either side, his canary-eating grin spread wide across his face. "Smug bastard," I muttered, and he laughed. His laughter turned into something else, however, when I slid my hands up his front in a very leisurely manner, my eyes heavy-lidded and a relaxed expression on my face.

I traced my fingers up the rough black denim covering his thighs, letting my hands wander up to just brush the hardness of his groin. That small touch was enough to make him jerk against me, pressing himself harder into my hands. Neither that, or the very satisfying growling sigh that arose from him at my touch, was enough to distract me from my goal, however. I let my hands rub against his stomach, first through the shirt, and then with my hands underneath the soft black cotton, tracing the lines of his stomach and chest very thoroughly. My hands brushed across his nipples, and when they remained there for a moment, he let out another small, mewling sound, leaning into me.

My eyes had been focussed on what I was doing, but when he damn near whimpered, I let my gaze return to him. The expression on his face made me gasp quietly, my eyes widening. His mask that he normally wore was gone, replaced by the true emotion I saw there instead. Pleasure and anticipation, lined with content and trust. I rarely saw him so open, except when we made love. That was the only time he let his shields down completely, and I treasured it all the more when he did, then.

With a sharp intake of breath from my end, he pulled me roughly against him, all the contours of my body aligned with his oh, so nicely. He kissed me firmly, with an almost desperate overtone to it, his hands wandering up and down my back freely. I responded in kind, letting my hands squeeze his butt suddenly. The jump I was rewarded with made our lips separate, and I couldn't keep my laughter down. I would almost say I was giggling. It wasn't often one saw Death do little jumps of surprise, however, so I was covered.

He was looking at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement, laced with desire. "What are you giggling about?" His tone was his norm: emotionless and neutral. His eyes gave away his feelings though, blue pools swimming with humour and deeper things.

Smirking slightly, I ran my hands through his hair as I spoke. "I don't often get to see you give little jumps like that. It was. . amusing." I grinned at him.

He growled and climbed to his feet suddenly. Before I had a chance to respond, he had picked me up in his arms. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, still smiling. I think most would be worried if Edward growled at them, but I felt as though I had immunity, given the circumstances. He headed to my bedroom, a small smile on his face as he gazed into my eyes. After a moment of losing myself in those oceanic depths, I leaned forward and began planting small kisses across his face, starting at his forehead. He sighed gently, warm breath blowing across my skin.

Next thing I knew, I had been deposited carefully on my bed. He grinned at me before climbing on all fours up over me. His hands were on either side of my head, his body held above me by muscles toned and defined for survival's sake, and not for looks. Though as he allowed me to pull his shirt over his head, with the finesse gained from doing such a thing many times in the past, I admired his sleek chest and arms. Muscular, but not overly so; very pleasing to the eye.

I reached up to put a hand on the back of his head, and was about to pull him down to me, when he spoke. "You don't have a mantle."

I blinked. That threw me for a loop. "What?"

His lips twitched. "You threatened to put my, ahh, 'pretty blond head' on your mantle. Which you don't have."

I stared at him for a moment, and then burst into laughter. It was just too ridiculous. "Are you feeling all right, Edward?" It was his turn to stare.

"I'm feeling fine. Why?"

"Because you're interrupting sex to comment about the lack of a fireplace in this house," I replied, struggling to keep my laughter in check. Edward rolled away from me then, lying on his back beside me. He turned his head to stare at me, face expressionless, except for his eyes. He was amused, by the look in those baby blues.

"We're not having sex yet, Anita."

I snorted, rolling over onto him. He gave a pleased sound as I settled in very comfortably on top of him, my hands sliding down his arms to entwine our fingers together. I lowered my lips until they were just brushing his. "Always have to be so precise," I whispered, my mouth moving against his with my words.

"One of my few faults, I'm sure," he murmured back, lifting a leg to wrap it around me, pressing me closer to all of him. I writhed against him, his hardness pressing in against my stomach, eliciting a groan from him. His back arched slightly, and our mouths pressed together more firmly. After a minute of indulging in the heat of his lips and tongue, I pulled back enough to stare him in the eye without my vision blurring. He arched an eyebrow at my withdrawal.

I gave him a stern look; his eyebrow lifted higher. "Before I lose access to the higher functions of my brain, I want to talk with you." He smiled smugly at the mention of my inevitable loss of coherency, but made no other response. I waited for a moment, and the smile trickled off his face when he saw I was being serious.

He gave me a measuring look, then a short nod. "Alright."

"I don't want you hunting my friends, Edward. You don't need the money, it's not that anyway. If you just want to kill someone-" I paused, not wanting to finish my sentence. I didn't want those close to me to become victims of Death, but I also didn't want to allow Edward to kill other innocents. Choices, choices.

"Go on, Anita. Tell me what you were going to say." His voice was calm, back to being neutral and emotionless, despite our position and that the length of him was still pressed against my stomach, hard and ready. A constant reminder of the joys to come, if only my brain would shut up and let my body enjoy itself. But this needed to be resolved, and sex could (sigh) wait.

"I was going to say, find someone else to kill who I don't care about, but I don't like that idea either, Edward." I sighed, shifting slightly over him and causing my stomach to brush across his more sensitive areas. He hissed, eyes immediately flooding with emotion again. I froze, staring down at him in reawareness of where I was and what we had been about to do.

"I'd suggest you speak faster, Anita." His voice was slightly ragged, though he managed to control it honorably. I hurried on with my speech, wanting to quickly absolve our problems and lose myself under his hands and lips.

"If you're going to take a contract on someone, Edward, I wish you'd clear it with me first." When his eyes darkened with more than just lust at that, narrowing slightly, I amended my words, making myself clearer. "I'm not saying check in with me about doing your job, but tell me if you think it's something I'd object to. Especially if it's someone I know. I don't want to lose anyone to you, Edward. You have to understand that."

He watched me, eyes considering and gaze heavy on me. I fought the urge to fidget under that stare, and after having it turned on me quite a few times over the years, I won the battle. Who would win the war, however, was heavily based on Edward's next words.

"I understand your meaning, Anita," he said slowly, hands tensing, thus squeezing mine. I squeezed back unconsciously, and a trace of surprise flickered into his eyes. He continued with a more normal tone. "I won't kill your werewolf friend, nor fang-face or the furball. If I receive any other contracts on your friends, I'll merely refuse them. Is that enough?"

Knowing Edward, that was a lot to give, and I was honored to be the recipient of such complacency. Edward was not one to lightly give in to anyone's wishes, and it made it all the more special when he did for me. I smiled a real smile then, bright and honest.

"That's perfect, Edward. Thank you." He nodded at me, his mask slipping away to reveal the temporarily hidden desire again. I leaned down to kiss his lips, trying to pour all the gratitude I felt into that one brush of skin on skin. He pressed back against me, his own mouth trying to convey a similar idea. I pulled back again, after a moment, and stared down into those familiar eyes blinking up at me. My next words were a soft whisper, but he heard them clearly in the quiet of my bedroom at night. "I love you, Edward."

The edges of his lips curved up slightly, a small smile that was familiar and heartwarming to me in that familiarity. He kissed a line across my cheek and ear lobe, before breathing a reply into my ear, his voice barely audible. "Love you too, Anita."

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