Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are not mine. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyer. I'm just using them for my own means and purposes.

A/N: Please be kind. Not beta'd.

"Sound check. Cameras Rolling. 'Soulmate', scene 342, take 8, and Action!"

All hustle-bustle ceased as the actors took the floor again. They wrapped each other in an embrace and the dialogue started. The silence was almost eerie as they gazed into each other's eyes.

"Oh Tony, I thought I'd lost you forever!" Kate Denali, a black haired beauty with acting skills as lethal as her looks, sobbed (she was rather convincing).

"My darling Susanna, know once and for all, I love you and only you. Only you have my heart, only you have my soul." crooned the actor, Edward Cullen was his name, equally good with words and emotions, heart-throb of millions around the globe, with his emerald green eyes and bronze sex-hair.

It was him I had to get candid with.

One of the reasons I loved my job at Cine Inc.

I had interviewed him a few times before and was scheduled to do so again after the shoot was over. I was strangely nervous after our last meeting and hoped I would not do anything more spastic than last time.

"Here's your water Bella!" Seth, my new photographer whispered, handing me a semi-warm bottle of the Himalayan water they had on the set and we both watched the actors play out the scene, while the extras adjusted the lights and the director and his multitude of assistants handled the cameras. I thanked him and took a sip, internally cringing at the weird taste it left in my mouth.

I was sitting with five other journalists, all there for the same reason I was, to get the latest scoop on the gossip in the world of movies. Movie-sets always amazed me, the sheer business of it all more than anything else. While what I was watching was a relatively simple scene as compared to some I had been witness to over the years, there were still a hundred hands coordinating each movement. It often felt like I was sitting in a busy honey-comb, with every random action seemingly coming together and making sense at the last minute.

After a few takes I lost interest in what the actors were doing and turned to a fellow journalist. She was quite pleasant, and regaled me with stories of a diva, who had apparently had enough of the sushi flavored condoms her boyfriend used. I in turn entertained her with stories about a horny director who fondly told us about the size and feel of his wife's "new milk sacs" (his words not mine) while discussing in detail about the female anatomy and its references in his latest movie. Too bad some things could never be printed in a family (sort of) magazine.

"And cut! That's it for today people, good job! Edward, nice shot. Kate, work on those eye muscles a bit more, Rotunda check my appointments…"

The director's voice trailed off as he walked out of the container like studio hall. The crew-members started packing up amongst busy chatter. Both the actors were standing with their respective posse and chatting amicably while signing autographs for the few fans who had managed to get through security.

I saw a press agent for the movie walking up to us. She was a sharp looking woman presumably in her early thirties, wearing a steel grey dress suit and black rimmed glasses. I consciously smoothed down my own skirt as I stood up to greet her. She introduced herself as Johanna and told us that the cast-members we were scheduled to interview would be available to us in a short span of time. She then led us to the snack table and left us to ourselves. I mingled with a few more journalists as Seth wolfed down the fancy looking pastries and croissants kept there.

Some time passed and Johanna again made an appearance with her Blackberry.

"Vogue? Blitz? Mr. Henderson will meet you in Studio No. 3. He apologizes for the inconvenience." A few journalists scattered away grumbling among themselves.

"Stars on the Block? Please proceed to Miss Denali's vanity van, she is ready for you." The girl I was talking to earlier moved out with her photographer, asking for directions on her way out.

"Cine Inc.? Mr. Cullen is waiting for you in his dressing room." I had been to this particular studio before and knew where the dressing rooms were. Before long we found the one with "Edward Cullen" written on it. I rehearsed my questions once more, ran my fingers through my now tangled hair, checked Seth's camera (it was surprising how many times that piece of junk malfunctioned) and knocked softly on the door.

"It's open," Edward called out in his rich baritone. We stepped in and I took in the surroundings. A 42" plasma TV, a state of the art music system playing soft Classical tunes strangely out of place in such a modern setting, a large dressing area littered with cosmetics and costumes, a wine cooler, a large canopy bed and even a grand piano along with other small musical instruments. My eyes finally landed on the black leather couch and the Adonis currently occupying it. He was out of his costume and now donned navy blue denims that hung low on his hips and a bark green shirt that made his eyes pop. His hair, an object of one too many women's wild fantasies, was assembled in careful disarray as he stroked a hand through it. Needless to say, my mind instantly went into the gutter.

Edward's eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as he looked past me, probably trying to attach a name to the unknown face that was Seth. I saw the crinkles disappear with the speed of light though as those orbs he called eyes landed on me and I groaned internally.

He very obviously remembered our previous train-wreck of a meeting as well as I did. It was about six months ago. When Edward Cullen was just an up and coming actor, not the superstar he is today.

It was a hot day and the floor was bustling with action. The shooting for a major movie would be wrapping up soon and I wanted to get an interview with the entire star-cast before they packed up. I had taken a special interest in Edward Cullen, TV star making his debut on the big screen. Didn't matter that his looks made me wetter than a whore at a bachelor party.

I had just interviewed a very harassed looking director and was on my second glass of 1976 Shiraz while Edward doled out the standard answers to my equally standard questions. Now I don't generally drink on the clock, but that day had seen me interviewing some rather stuck-up horny bastards, some of whom had tried to feel me up. And that includes the females. Enough said.

Sadly the one I wanted to enjoy a grope-session with was being extremely gentlemanly ad keeping his hands to himself. Damn it!

Halfway through I realized I was getting lost in his eyes as he spoke and tried to get back into the correct frame of mind by picturing him with thick glasses, reciting the yellow pages. If I had assumed that would help me concentrate, I was sorely mistaken. He looked delectable doing even that and daydream Bella lunged at him almost as soon as he was finished with the letter A. It was understandable since he was wearing leather, yes you heard me right, and managing to look like a sinful dessert to my diabetic (and strangely disturbed) psyche. I may have drooled just a little bit.

I was jolted out of my daydreams however by his PA, who not so politely gestured that Mr. Cullen had to run for a shoot in a couple of minutes and had better things to do than answer my drab questions. I ran over the material I had to make sure I had enough moolah to gratify other diabetic psyches out there. Satisfied with my haul (I was brilliant, sue me) I ended the interview and got up to shake his hand, forgetting in the process that I had extremely expensive red wine in my clumsy hand, spilling it unceremoniously on his probably expensive and non-salvageable costume. Thank you for bailing out on me, hand-eye co-ordination!

Jay, his designer, almost had a coronary as I instantly grabbed tissues off a counter and rubbed the stain more vigorously than I should probably have, stunningly close to his man junk. I was still spewing out apologies to his stained leather pants as they escorted me out of the building.

Seriously, it was a miracle he even agreed to see me again.

I need not have worried though, for as soon as he recognized me, a large smile graced his features and he patted the seat beside him. I swooned a little, rolled eyes at my inner teen-self and quickly took the offered position while Seth, without any introductions, started snapping away. I made a mental note to berate him later about his lack of etiquettes. Actors were still humans after all.

"So Edward, it's nice to meet you again." I started with a smile, not entirely sure he was as pleased to see me as he was letting on.

"Yes it is, Isabella." He grinned. Yeah, we're on first name basis, suck on that bitches.

"It's Bella," I automatically corrected, an impulse from years of trying to get away from the god-awfully formal ring to my name. Realizing I was in no position to correct him, I hastily added, "But Isabella is just fine." Seth flashed his camera again.

Edward laughed, a strangely pleasant sound, "I like Isabella if you don't mind." Ugh! He was edible even when he was being a smug bastard.

"Uh, no, um, whatever suits you fancy," What! He laughed again, sensing my discomfort. It was not helping that it drew my attention to his lips and my mind went into hyper drive imagining them in places, doing things that would push me over the edge in frenzy. Damn you hormones!

"Surprisingly on time, Miss Swan." a cold voice snapped me out of my reverie.

In the movies, it is when things are getting comfortable between the lead characters that the ultimate nemesis decides to show up. Too bad life sometimes comes too close. I knew who the voice belonged to of course. Leah Clearwater, PA to Edward Cullen, also known as Bitch Extraordinaire.

She was an unnervingly bitter woman, almost militarized in her approach. She fretted over each and every detail like her life depended on it. Everything she did was filled with obsession, and that included hating journalists with a passion. It was almost like we were a bane to her existence. An evil plot designed by God himself to disrupt her carefully constructed world by our pesky reporting. Though she did at times acknowledge, that if not for us, there wouldn't be a star to work for, she preferred to keep herself at arms-length. She had been the one to setup this meeting, faxing the list of questions that were off limits to the office and a list of instructions on how to behave around Edward. The list was surprisingly long. She no doubt remembered our last encounter.

"Would you care for some wine?" she continued, her voice strained with politeness.

"No." Edward and I said at the same time. Color flooded my cheeks as Edward laughed again. Leah turned on her heels and resumed her wallflower duties after handing a glass to an overeager Seth.

I sneered at her before turning to Edward, realizing a little too late that he was too close to be deemed professional and momentarily lost my mental and physical balance as his smell assaulted my senses, all raw manliness and sex.

"Breathe Isabella." Edward's perfect tongue wrapped around my name and heat pooled between my thighs as I tried to make sense of what was happening. Get a grip Bella! I rebuked myself. I was generally much more professional, part of the reason why almost all interviewees agreed to a second meeting with me. It was not in my nature to let my mind wander and I could sense that Seth, new though he was, was also confused by my ruffled behavior. It was disconcerting how he affected me and I decided not to let my emotions run the game.

Putting some distance between us, I decided to do what I was sent here for. "Mr. Cullen," Mr. Cullen was good, it kept me detached, "On behalf of Cine Inc., I just wanted to ask a few questions and then I and my cameraman will be out of your hair." I flashed him another smile, more confident now than I was before.

Before he could answer, I carried on formally, "So, let us start off with something easy, tell me a little about the current project you are working on." That was always a good question. It helped both parties get into a comfort zone before things got more personal on the questions front.

He smiled before he launched into a detailed explanation about the underlying theme of the story about a young World War II soldier and his affair with a much married woman, twice his age. While the journalist part of my brain categorized his speech and edited it to make it print-worthy, the other part, which was determined to land me in unemployed hell by the time the interview was over, pictured about him in his WWII uniform, taking me from behind in a dark 1940s alley.

My journalist mind was however on high alert, for as soon as he finished off his explanation with a panty drenching smile, I gave him an equally dazzling smile and carried on as if I had not just been fantasizing about him in all his uniformed glory. This went on for some time till I ran out of pre-organized questions. Now I would start wading into unchartered waters.

"That sounds like a blockbuster in the making Mr. Cullen," I smiled, "How difficult was it to get into character?"

"Not difficult in the least," he replied, "Our director made sure we were absolutely thorough with the facts of the war and the mindset of the people in those days. It does not seem that far-fetched then when you know what the people were going through. Morales are low when you know that life can be over in mere minutes, and listening to the heart and giving into your carnal desires does not seem like a bad idea eventually. Besides, Kate is the hottest forty-five year old cougar I have had the pleasure of doing business with, so it was no problem at all." My jaw dropped open at his declaration and I had to stomp down on the insane jealousy that surged through my body.

He let out a bark of laughter, probably at my expression. "Although, Garrett would kill me if word got out that I had the hots for his wife, so keep that off the record will you hon." He winked, his eyes dancing with humour. Hon? This man was going to be the death of me.

"So, no time for cougars or other special ladies in your life then?" I asked, doing a little jig inwardly that he had walked so early on into that one. There was some throat clearing at that and it was then that I noticed Leah disdainfully looking down at me. I cringed a little, since I knew that personal questions were off limits in this particular interview.

"Well, we all have special ladies in our lives, my mother Esme and baby sister Alice are taking up all of my time at the moment for example." he smiled good-naturedly, though his eyes showed that the question was not well appreciated. I knew then that the next question would be out of line, but like all good journalists, I went in for the kill.

"So then the rumors of you secretly marrying an unidentified blonde bombshell in a courthouse a month ago are just that?"

"Miss Swan," Leah interrupted, standing up, obviously incensed at my blatant disregard for structured rules and faxed instructions. But Edward held up a hand to his PA, who looked like she wanted to bitch-slap me and turned questioningly to Seth.

"Seth Jordan," Seth offered when he understood what Edward was asking.

"Well Mr. Jordan, would you mind a tour of this huge premise? I have never seen you here before, so it would be safe to assume that it is your first time?" His voice was controlled and Seth looked as confused as I felt, but still nodded.

"Leah?" he said, his eyes still on Seth. It was glaringly clear that Leah did not appreciate being made the tour-guide in charge of a lowly cameraman. Her face turned a comical shade of purple as she realized what Edward wanted her to do.

"But-but who will supervise the interview?" she sputtered, trying to get out of the situation as Seth let out a belch simultaneously, probably the result of too much Chardonnay.

I inwardly thanked my cameraman. A squirming Ice Queen was always a welcome sight.

"Do you not think I am capable enough to handle one journalist, Leah?" Edward asked, cocking his eyebrow, clearly enjoying her discomfort. Had I not been a little mortified, I would have laughed at her predicament.

Leah hung her head in defeat and clickety-clacked her way out of the room. Seth looked at me, clearly at a loss for what to do, his camera hanging loosely around his neck. I gave him a weak nod and he moved out of the room, following Leah.

The footsteps quietly faded away and I was half considering making a run for it myself. Edward was not even looking at me and the tension grew to the point of being unbearable. Just as I decided the situation could not be salvaged, I felt a warm hand on my knee. I gasped and looked over at Edward. A small smile was playing on his lips as he stared at a painting on the other side of the room.

"Call me Mr. Cullen again." He whispered his voice like hot dripping chocolate. My mouth went dry as all the wetness went south. He squeezed my knee, "Say it."

"Mr. Cullen." I whispered, my heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

Before I could catch my breath, his mouth was on mine, moving roughly and with passion. His warm breath assaulted my senses and my lips parted of their own accord. He pushed his tongue inside and I responded with equal fervor, forgetting my surroundings, losing myself in him. Our tongues danced as his hand slowly moved upward into my skirt. I arched into him as he grazed my inner thigh. He moaned into my mouth as he felt the heat emanating from my saturated pussy. I groaned in anticipation and felt the muscles in my thighs tighten, as if waiting for the onslaught of his fingers and possibly more.

"You are so beautiful." His voice was raspy as he stroked my panty clad pussy. He was teasing me. "Please Edward." I whimpered, needing friction. The entire interview had been like foreplay and I was more than ready for him. A small part of my brain was now raising red flags and yelling mayday, but the much larger part wanted nothing more than him inside me. My brain stopped working as he stroked some more and I was determined to take matters into my own hands (literally) if he did not do something more.

Just as I was deciding my point of entry, he dug his fingers inside. I spread my legs wide to give him more access and all but sprawled on the huge sofa. He covered my body with his and started whispering incomprehensible things into my ear. They quickly turned into moans as I palmed his evident erection through his jeans. The sounds he was making spurred me on and I rubbed against him.

"Do you know what you do to me? Do you know how long I've wanted to do that, you tease?" He whispered in my ear as his fingers continued their assault. "Mmmmhhh…" I tried, but my mind was already the consistency of molten goo.

"Oh God Bella! You're so wet!" he moaned as his fingers dug deeper. And then….

"Did you just slap my pussy?" I asked incredulously, moving back a little, effectively putting distance between him and my pussy. His grin turned even more lopsided.

"Serves you right for teasing me like that. And a blonde bombshell? Seriously Bella?" he sounded incredulous and I noticed (it was hard not to) that his fingers dipped inside again. I moaned in reply because truthfully I couldn't care less at the moment.

"Focus Bella!" he ordered, which I thought was rather contradictory with what he was doing at the moment – making me lose my mind. "Answer me." He tried again, his motions turning forceful, making me whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"I-I'm cc-lose!" I cried out as the first wave of an orgasm crashed through me. His face became soft as he bent forward to kiss me, digging deeper in the process. I stared into his darkened eyes as his lips moved against mine. Slow and loving, a paradox with his moving fingers. I couldn't take it anymore. This beautiful man and his agile fingers completely dominated my mind and I couldn't imagine another place I would want to be right now. Finally, with one fine stroke of his fingers, my pussy constricted around them and I came with a force I had not experienced in a long time.

"Wow."

"My sentiments exactly." He chuckled, removing his fingers and licking them off one by one. Did I just say I was losing my mind?

"Wow." Yes, this maddening man had reduced me, Isabella Sawn, MA Literature, into a bumbling idiot.

He laughed at my response and took my mouth into his again.

"Bella," he said, after that glorious kiss, "You do know I prefer brunettes, don't you?" It was my turn to laugh. "I had an inkling." I replied, loving each moment of our banter.

"Then, why dear wife did you just pull that stunt over there?"

Oh, did I mention Edward Cullen, heart-throb of millions around the globe, with his emerald green eyes and bronze sex-hair was also my husband?

"I thought that'd keep them off our backs for some time." I winked as he pulled me into a hug.

"Well I don't like it," he said, his tone turning serious. "I don't like anyone thinking I'm with anyone else other than you."

"Well, Edward, it's not like anyone knows we are together, do they?" I countered, a little peeved.

It's not like it was easy for me, seeing his pictures with random models every other day in the tabloids. All of which were staged for my sake. I understood why he wanted to keep us a secret. His job was one in which anyone close to him was hounded within an inch of their lives. My in-laws were a living proof of that. Blood-ties are not as easily hidden after all.

My mind went back to the first time Edward had called. It was just after that disastrous interview which had ended in me making a fool out of myself. I was sitting on my couch, pajama clad and teary eyed, dipping into a bucket of Ben and Jerry's, watching re-runs of Friends. I was contemplating how I got here; sure I would be fired from my job after the Edward Cullen Clan called them up to complain about clumsier-than-thou employees and sued their ass. I could almost picture Lauren, that cow, snickering as the bosses screamed at me in front of everyone and publicly humiliated me before they kicked me out.

Just when I let out a watery chuckle at the irony of Rachel ruining her job interview on the same day I'd ruined mine, the phone rang. Now since only six people in this world have my home phone number, none of whom I had any inclination to talk to, I decided to let my trustworthy voicemail get it.

The voice I heard next made me fall off my couch with a thud.

"Isabella Swan?" An uncertain yet unmistakable voice of Edward Cullen came on. Blood thundered in my ears as I wondered whether he had called to sue me himself or inform me about the specifics of the restraining order he had no doubt placed upon my maladroit ass. I decided to bite the bullet. This was better than public humiliation in any case.

"Bella Swan,"I cringed internally at my own stupidity. It seriously knew no bounds today.

"Well, Bella Swan, this is Edward Cullen. And I just wanted to tell you," I shut my eyes waiting for that inevitable 'I sue you' when he said, "I cannot get you out of my mind, will you go out on a date with me?"

As simple as that.

Too bad my mind didn't think so and I started blabbering.

When I couldn't respond with anything that he could understand, he decided to intervene. "Thing is Bella, try as I might, I just cannot stop thinking about you. I was going to ask you out after that interview but the, ahem, circumstances did not allow me to. So I got my men to get me your number and this is the one they found. I would much rather be doing this face-to-face but unluckily my job does not afford me to do so. Also Jane would burst a vein if she found out." He sounded sad and my heart went out to him. Poor guy had no clue what was in store for him when the movie came out. I had no doubt in my mind he would become an overnight sensation with the masses. "You should know though, I'm putting myself on the line and I have a feeling you'll be worth it." He finished and waited for me to reply.

It was the weirdest day ever, so his words did not surprise me as much as they should've. That worried me a little. I was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out and yell 'Punked' but when that didn't happen and I realized Edward-Freakin'-Cullen was waiting for my answer on the other end of the line; I did what any respected journalist would. I squealed. Not a moment I'm proud of.

After making sure his ears had not fallen off and I was not going to hyperventilate, I started thinking what this would mean for my career. Will I be getting assignments just because I was The Edward Cullen's girl and not on my own merit. What about my privacy? Would that be a thing of the past too? I could picture the headlines now 'Superstar Edward Cullen's Plain and Mousy Girlfriend trips and moons half the Cannes' I had no idea if I was ready for that kind of scrutiny. I told Edward as much.

He was surprisingly understanding. He told me to think about it and give him a call on his private number, which he gave me. It did not escape my notice that his PA did not know about his intentions but decided not to bring it up for now.

It was a tough decision to make but make it I did. The next day, with shaking fingers, I called Edward and told him I was ready to give it a shot. Little did I know it would be the best decision I ever made.

We decided to withhold our relationship from the media and our colleagues (that included Jane and I was secretly thrilled at the idea of us doing it under her all-sensing nose), to protect my privacy and not become victims in the process.

Six months flew by, and we met up as discreetly and as much as we could. Edward was surprisingly down-to-earth and simple and made maintaining a relationship with him as easy as a walk in the park. We fell in love within weeks and understood early-on that what we had was forever.

Difficulties arose, however, when his movie broke all box-office records and Edward Cullen became Edward Cullen Superstar. Cameras followed him everywhere and were it not for the support of our families; we wouldn't have lasted as long as we did.

When Edward proposed in the fifth month of our relationship, I realized how immensely difficult it was going to be to keep it under wraps. But my love for him was all-encompassing and I knew we could face whatever lay ahead together.

We were married the next day in our sweats in a ceremony witnessed by just ten people, all of whom were close family.

We have been working on being married for over a month now and have had our share of difficulties. But at the end of the day, he is all that matters for me and I intend to make it work.

To make it easy for ourselves, we did not mix much professionally and tried to maintain a distance. So when my boss called me into his office and ordered me to interview Edward before the release of his next big cinematic treat, I knew I was headed for trouble. I gave Edward a heads-up and he assured me all was going to be fine.

How stupid of me to believe he wouldn't try anything.

"I'm sorry, Bells." His voice was laced with sadness and I couldn't help but feel like a dick. "I want to shout out you're mine to the entire world but I've seen how the strongest of relationships are broken under the media scrutiny and I'm afraid to lose you. I can't even think about it. It makes me nauseous."

I took his face in my hands and kissed him softy. "I know Edward. Never doubt my love for you. I don't care what the world thinks or knows about us. I promise you we'll make this work. You won't get rid of me that fast." I chuckled, pulling away.

"So now, Mr. Cullen, should we finish our interview so that I can get back to my husband. You see, he's at home all day, waiting for me to return. And when I do return, he grabs me and takes me from behind and we make sweet love all night."

Edward laughed loudly. "Well, Ms. Swan, consider it a date. I'm sure your husband is a lucky bastard. And just so you know, you can write whatever you want about me, but make sure that my next lover is as hot and sexy as you are." That earned him a slap on his shoulders and soon we were locked in an intense game of Tickle-me-not. Just as Edward was leaning in to kiss me we heard them.

"No! Mr. Jordan that is studio property. You may not touch it!" The cold and highly annoyed voice of Leah Clearwater filtered through the walls as the duo made their way through the corridor, effectively bursting our bubble. I quickly adjusted myself and Edward squeezed my hand, before letting it go.

The loss of the warmth of his hand saddened me but my spirits were raised considerably when Leah walked in through the doors, highly frazzled and clearly annoyed. Following her was the funniest sight I had ever seen.

Seth Jordan, a six foot tall Caucasian, twenty-three years of age, was wearing the most ridiculous ensemble of memorabilia and knick-knacks I have ever had the privilege to see. A jaws hat was perched on his head while he wore a Jurassic Park tee-shirt and ridiculous pants that looked like skorts with pictures of Shrek drawn on it. He was carrying an assortment of mugs and stationary in his large hands, each resembling a movie produced by the studio. But it was the piece-de-resistance - the Breakfast at Tiffany sunglasses, the exact replica of those worn by Holly Golightly on the promotional posters – that made me crack up.

Seth droned on about his adventures as Leah huffed and puffed in a corner, giving the phrase if looks could kill a whole new meaning.

We finally wrapped up the interview and I could feel Leah taking a deep sigh of relief. I thanked Edward for his time and turned to Seth, who was bursting out of his clothes with excitement.

Amidst all this chaos of packing up, and Seth delighting me with his tales, I could feel Edward's eyes on me. When I turned to look at him, he mouthed "I love you", smiled that secret smile which he kept for me and left the room.

It is then that I truly believed we could make it. It didn't matter that the world thought he was single and ready to mingle, Edward Cullen, my husband, would be tied to me forever. And I was more than sure he would be as tied to our little one, due in nine months and fall in love with him as soon as I gave him the news. Tonight.

A/N: Reviews will mean the world to me.