For the Sake of OJward

Penname: bookjunkie1975

Title: Sweet Distraction

Pairing: Edward/Rosalie

Disclaimer: The story is mine, the characters are not.

Javamomma0921 and Just Shireen save me from crimes against grammar and the very pretty fngrcufs, lightstardust and swimom7 graciously offered their thoughts on this.

"Daddy, why did you and Mommy name me Clementine?"

I paused against the kitchen door, waiting to hear Edward's answer.

"Because you're so sweet and so sticky, just like a clementine. Now give me your hands so I can wash that syrup off."

"No, Daddy. Really!"

"Because you're 'light and like a fairy.' But you can't wear the wings to school, Sweetie. Or the tiara."

"Please, Daddy…"

"You are my darlingest darling, CC, and I adore you. But no. Don't blink those baby blues at me. Did your mother teach you that? Well I've got news for you, Munchkin, it doesn't work for her either. Now hurry up and get your sweater and backpack, the school bus is going to be here any minute."

I heard the chair scrape against the floor and the click-clack of her brand new Mary-Jane's as Clementine hurried across the kitchen to the laundry room where her sweater and backpack were waiting on a little hook. Today was a big day. It was her first full day of school and she couldn't be more excited. I, on the other hand, was having a difficult time.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to smile brightly. She was excited and so ready to take this first step towards independence. I wouldn't ruin this moment for her. I pushed through the kitchen door, smile in place, ready to meet this challenge head on.

"Holy shit!"

"Mommy, that's a bad word. You need to put money in the swear jar." Clementine came out of the laundry room, her wide blue eyes so much like my own, crinkled solemnly, a stern expression across her face.

Edward took one look at me and retreated behind the counter, holding his hands up defensively.

"Now, Rose..."

"Edward…"

I took a step forward into the disaster zone that used to be my kitchen. There was a thin dusting of flour coating the cupboard doors and the floor around the kitchen island. The sink was piled with dirty dishes and I could barely see the counter underneath the mass of food…flour, sugar, milk, eggs, vanilla, blueberries, baking powder…all the ingredients for Edward Cullen's famous pancakes.

"CC helped me make pancakes. Isn't that great?" He smiled his stupid, dazzling smile at me.

"Fantastic," I smiled back through gritted teeth.

"It was so much fun, Mommy. Daddy let me scoop the flour and mix and add the blueberries and I made a smiley face for mine and it was the best pancake ever but I dropped one but Daddy said it was ok because I could just make another one and I did." Clementine was bouncing on her toes and pulling at my hand as she described her morning and I felt the angry tension melt right out of me in the face of her happiness.

"It sounds like you and Daddy had a lot of fun, but it's almost time for the bus. Go give Daddy a hug and say goodbye."

Clementine ran to Edward and I watched as he scooped her up and twirled her around until the room was filled with the sound of her giggles.

"Ok, Sweetness. Have a good day at school. Listen to your teachers and remember what we talked about this morning."

"I know, Daddy. Don't talk to boys. They're yucky."

"That's my girl." I smiled as Edward and Clementine scrunched up their faces and pressed their noses together. He set Clementine down and she skipped towards me, her little hand slipping sweetly into mine.

"Ready, Sweetie?" I asked.

"Ready, Mommy."

Clementine was all confidence as we walked out the front door and down the street to the corner where a few children were already gathered. The bus was just turning up the street and I crouched down to give my little girl a final inspection. I straightened out the shoulders of her sweater and smoothed down the front of her skirt, then pulled her in close. She smelled like fabric softener and syrup and orange juice - everything good.

The bus pulled up in front of us and Clementine squirmed in my arms when I held her just a little tighter. Sighing, I gave her a kiss and a quick tug of her blond pigtail. I stood and watched as she walked determinedly up the bus's steps without a backward glance. The bus idled for a moment as children shuffled into their seats. Then it was pulling away from the curb and rumbling towards the school. I stood and watched as it turned the corner and passed out of sight.

I wandered idly back to the house wondering how exactly it was that I had a daughter old enough to be starting school. It seemed like just yesterday that I had walked into that convenience store looking for a carton of orange juice.

The little store was dingy and dark and probably the last place I should have been at 2:00AM on a Tuesday night but I had been hit by the sudden and intense craving for orange juice. It had been weeks since I'd had the desire to put anything in my mouth and I felt absolutely parched. I tried water. I tried tea. I even tried some warm milk but nothing would ease my seemingly insatiable thirst. The first two stores I tried were closed. I had walked six blocks in the relative quiet of a city night before I finally found what I was looking for.

The girl at the counter didn't even bother looking up from her textbook when I walked through the door.

"Orange juice?" I asked.

"Back of the store," was the mumbled response.

I made my way through the maze of short shelves and overpriced stock to the back wall and began scanning the coolers for Tropicana.

"Coke. Rootbeer. Water. Water. More water. Fruitopia. Acacia Berry Blend? Where the hell is the orange juice?"

I stepped closer, hands skimming across the cooler doors as I searched frantically but the spot where the familiar white carton should have stood was empty. I opened the door and stretched my arm as far back as it would go, feeling around desperately for the orange juice. It wasn't there.

I felt like crying. I couldn't explain this intense longing, this need that had filled me and sent me out into the chilled city night in pursuit of a breakfast juice but my failure left me feeling empty and defeated. I closed the door and leaned my head against the cool glass.

"Shit. Shit, fuck, fuck fuckitty fuck."

"Boy, you really like orange juice don't you?" The amused voice cut through my tirade, startling me. I jerked backwards and nearly collided with the man standing quietly behind me.

"Whoa there. I'm sorry to startle you. I thought you saw me." A hand reached out to steady me. I turned quickly and stared openly at the man in front of me. He was tall and thin, almost scrawny, I thought. His face was covered by thick-framed lenses and his hair jutted away from his head at oddly random angles. Not my type. Not my type at all, I thought dismissively. And yet, despite all that there was an arresting quality to the sharp, angular planes of his face. I was about to tell him it was fine when I noticed the item he held.

"You have orange juice." My eyes locked on the precious carton he held casually in his hand.

"I do. And apparently it's the last orange juice. However, I might be convinced to share it," his voice was teasing and inviting, a tone I'd heard many,many times.

The truth was, if this situation had occurred six months ago, I might have taken him up on the offer…if he'd been a little more my type. But six months ago I wouldn't have been caught dead in a run down convenience store in the middle of the night, dressed carelessly in thin-worn pajama's, hair piled haphazardly on top of my head. Six months ago I had been carefree, and careless, the whole world my playground, my entire future ahead of me. And four months ago it had been someone exactly my type who had landed me in the situation I now found myself.

"I'm pregnant." The words still felt so foreign on my tongue. I, Rosalie Hale, 21 and barely finished with school, was pregnant. And alone. The last time I had said those words to a man he had cut and run and that was just what I expected to happen now. Only it didn't.

A warm smile spread across the stranger's face as he handed the carton to me.

"Well then, you definitely need this more than me."

"Really?"

"Of course. I could never come between a pregnant woman and her cravings. I value my life too much," he laughed. "How far along are you?"

"Um, four months."

"So into the second trimester. I hear it's much easier than the first. At least that's what my teachers tell me."

"Well, I can actually eat solid food again, so that's a plus."

He laughed and pressed the carton into my hands.

"Please...take the juice. Oh, and congratulations."

"Thank you." I wandered to the front of the store. I felt strangely unsettled by the whole encounter but couldn't figure out why. Then it hit me. This stranger was the first person to have any genuine interest in my pregnancy; the first person to treat it as something to be celebrated, not regretted. And I wanted to celebrate it.

I paid for my juice and left the store but I hadn't gone very far when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Hey! Wait up!"

I turned to see the stranger from the store walking purposefully towards me.

"Are you out here on your own?" he asked and I could see the concern in his eyes as he scanned the darkened street.

"It's fine. I'm a big girl." I turned to leave but his hand on my wrist stopped me.

"Wait. Listen, it's late. I mean really late, and I'm just concerned. I mean, you can obviously take care of yourself but I can't let you walk home alone."

I bristled and yanked my wrist away but before I could say anything he was speaking again.

"I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. It's just…I'd worry, you know?" He pushed his hand through his hair and looked questioningly at me.

"I don't even know your name," I told him.

"Shit, I'm really screwing this up, aren't I?" he grimaced before sticking a hand out to me. "I'm Edward Cullen."

I stared at his hand for a minute.

"How do I know you're not going to walk me home and then murder me in my sleep?" I asked. "They say serial killers are quite charming."

"You think I'm charming?"

"That's not really the point."

"Let me walk you home. I promise I won't ask for anything more nefarious than your name. I just want to make sure my orange juice is safe." His grin was infectious and I had to fight to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up in response.

"Fine. But if you do kill me I'm coming back to haunt your ass," I warned him.

"Never doubted it."

"And it's Rose," I muttered.

I thought I heard him whisper something to himself as he reached over and took the bag from my hand. It sounded like "Beautiful" and his cheeks were tinged with pink.

I ignored it and we walked down the street towards home. We talked as we walked and somehow I found myself opening up to Edward, despite my better judgment. I told him about my crappy job that paid the bills and not much more and he told me about med school and his residency. He asked about the baby's father and I told him I was on my own and that was fine. It was just how I wanted it. And when we stopped at the stoop in front of my apartment he gave me his phone number.

"In case you need more orange juice," he said as he pressed the paper into my hand and squeezed. I wanted to squeeze back. I wanted to take the sweet, funny man up to my apartment and let him warm me up from the inside out. But I couldn't. That wasn't me anymore. So I walked away without looking back.

A few days later I came home to find a crate of clementines waiting for me. A few days after that it was daisies and then it was him.

"Have dinner with me."

"I don't think that's the best idea, Edward."

"You have to eat don't you? Come on, Rose, I'm not asking for anything more than your company." But he was. He was asking for all sorts of things I didn't think I could give and I was terrified that if I let him in and he walked away that would be it. I'd break. But there was so much hope in his eyes and I was so tired of being alone. So I said yes.

Dinner turned into late night phone calls and after work coffee dates until before I knew it Edward Cullen had begun to fill all the empty spaces in my life. We were wandering through the produce section of Whole Foods one day when he turned to me, the strangest expression across his face.

"I love you, Rose."

My heart stuttered in my chest as I tried to find the right words to tell him what I was feeling. And then…

"My water just broke."

Edward was amazing. He stayed with me through everything and when they finally placed my baby in my arms he looked at me like I'd created the whole world.

"You are incredible, Rosalie Hale. Do you know that?"

"She's perfect, isn't she?" I could barely tear my eyes away. She was so tiny, all wrinkled and red with a shock of wispy blond fuzz covering her head.

"Do you want to hold her?" I offered.

I watched as Edward slipped his arms carefully under her and cradled the baby to his chest. He stared and stared at her, like he was memorizing every single detail.

"She's just beautiful," one of the nurses had come to stand next to me and we watched Edward humming softly to the baby. "Does she have a name?"

"Clementine." Edward's voice was soft and sure as he announced to the room that my baby should be named after a citrus fruit.

"What?" I stared incredulously at him.

"Her name is Clementine. Just look at her, Rose. She's so tiny and sweet and everything good. Just like a clementine." I watched as he bent his face to the bundle in his arms and gently rubbed his nose against hers.

"God, she even smells like oranges." He looked over at me and smiled. "And we can call her CC for short."

"CC?"

"Of course. Clementine Cullen."

My breath hitched at his words and I tried to act nonchalant but I was shaken. "Cullen?"

"Well obviously I'm adopting her as soon as we get married. We should really all have the same last name, don't you think? Of course, I could take Hale, but CC sounds so much better than CH."

"You're awfully sure of yourself, Cullen."

"No, Rose. I'm sure of us." He smiled at me and his whole face was lit up. I felt my entire world shift in that moment. All the walls I hid behind, all the defenses I had built, crumbled in the face of Edward Cullen's calm assurance. And I rebuilt them, stronger than ever, to stand not just around me this time, but around my family.

I reached the kitchen door and stopped to watch my husband. He'd worked quickly clearing the counter and stacking the dishes in the dishwasher. The kitchen was close to spotless. Now he stood leaning against the refrigerator door, carton of orange juice raised to his lips. His throat pulsed temptingly as he took long, deep swallows.

"You're not going to put that back in the fridge are you?" I asked him.

Edward tilted his head back and upended the carton completely, making a point to tap the bottom a few times to catch every last drop.

"Nope." He tossed the carton easily into the recycling bin and turned to look at me.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I'm just a little nervous for her. And missing her already," I answered.

"I know. But she's going to be fine. She's smart and funny and fearless. That kid is pretty much unstoppable. We have nothing to worry about. But if you're looking for a distraction…" Edward's hand snaked forward, his long fingers wrapping around my wrist as he tugged me towards him.

"Just what exactly did you have in mind?" I eyed him suspiciously. His fingers were tracing lazy patterns up and down my arm and he bent his head to press his mouth to the crook of my neck. His breath was warm and wet against my skin and I shivered.

"How much time do you have?" Edward's voice was low and thick and I knew that if I took one step back and pressed my body to his I'd be able to feel him, hard and ready.

"I have to meet your sister at 10:00 to look at some samples," Edward's fingers skimmed the curve of my breast as I spoke and my words came out shaky and uneven.

"Plenty of time." He spun me around and backed me up until my legs hit the edge of the counter.

"What are you doing?" I breathed out as his hands wrapped firmly around my waist.

"Distracting you." Somehow I found myself sitting on the edge of the counter, Edward standing between my legs, arms on either side of me as he leaned in to press his lips to the sliver of skin exposed by the collar of my dress. "How'm I doing?" He looked up at me and his gaze was all heat and need and want and I felt my insides tighten in response.

"Meh," I tried for nonchalance but the word came out sounding more like a moan.

Edward's eyes darkened.

"That sounds like a challenge," he said, and he pressed his mouth to mine. One hand cupped my cheek while the other wandered over my dress until he found the tie at the side and, in one quick motion, pulled. The simple wrap dress parted and Edward stepped back to look at me.

"You're wearing the purple ones," he growled.

"I know."

"You're a dangerous woman, Rosalie Cullen."

He ran his finger under the lace edging of the silk underwear and I sucked in a breath. My skin felt alive where his fingers pressed against it. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and pulled gently. I raised my hips and watched him as he slid the silk down my legs and tossed it over his shoulder before grinning up at me. Then I was pulling him to me and fumbling hurriedly with his belt. He stripped quickly out of his pants and it was all I could do not to grab him and pull him into me right then.

I scooted forward and he grabbed my hips and then he was inside me, my legs wrapped around him, and we just were. We moved together slowly, deliberately. At some point my bra came off and his mouth found my breast. He sucked and nipped while I moaned and scratched and then his hand moved between us and I was suddenly on fire. I leaned back against the counter for more leverage and let the fire consume me while he moved frantically inside me and the kitchen filled with the sound of us burning together.

When I could think again I found myself curled up in Edwards lap on the kitchen floor, sweaty and thoroughly content, listening to the sound of his heart beating against my cheek. This man turned me inside out every time. He was brilliant, charming, funny and so very, very strong. And somehow, he was mine. And I was his.

"So was that enough of a distraction for you?"

I could practically feel the smug satisfaction pouring off of him as he rested his chin on my head.

I smiled to myself as I shook my head. "Well, it was a start."

"A start? You are voracious. What more can I do?"

I stood and walked confidently towards the staircase.

"Come upstairs and distract me again."

Fin.