Disclaimer: We all know they belong to Stephanie.

Summary: Charlie's an intelligent man who comes to his own conclusions, but when Jake and Nessie come to visit one afternoon, Charlie decides he needs a few answers. Oneshot.

Visiting Charlie

The scene in the lounge was not so strange at first – a well built youth at his ease on an old sofa with a little girl by his side, her little legs propped up on the cushion, a book in her lap, her high, childish voice reading aloud for him. To an outsider's eye it was a fairly ordinary scene – until you realised the girl, barely bigger than a toddler, was reading French poetry with what seemed to be perfect diction.

Jacob was watching and listening to my prodigy of a granddaughter intently, though I'm certain he understood about as much of the chosen material as I did, nodding in encouragement, smiling with adoration.

Anyone would think he was the proud father, not a mere friend of the family. It was Saturday. Why was he not out at the beach with his friends? Or out stalking wildlife or whatever it was he did when he was …

I shook my head.

"Game's about to start," I announced, hoping to surprise them. They were so engrossed in their book I'd assumed they hadn't heard my approach. No such luck. Neither even looked up.

"What sport?" asked Jake, showcasing, once again, his increasing lack of affinity with the sane world. A couple of years ago he wouldn't've had to ask.

"Baseball season's starting today," said Nessie confidently.

"That's right!" I said, hoping I was infusing the right level of enthusiasm into my tone. It was difficult to muster. I'd just noticed Nessie's feet hanging over the edge of the sofa. She'd been too short for that just two weeks ago.

"Ah," said Jake, smiling at her as though baseball facts were just as impressive as the reading of French poetry. In truth, perhaps they were, considering she was barely eight months old. Eight months old and three feet tall with a full set of teeth, thick, richly coloured hair hanging to her waist and a vocabulary far beyond that of any adult I knew. I briefly wondered who she was learning the foreign language skills from and quickly decided I didn't need to know.

I plonked myself in the armchair closest to the TV and flicked the pre-game entertainment on, but from the corner of my eye I continued to watch the pair. Jake's attention didn't wander from Nessie as she put down her book and leaned forward to better absorb the marching band on ESPN. She giggled and Jake smiled reflexively in response.

I frowned. It was just … odd. The way he responded to her. The way his world seemed to revolve around her. It had been this way since the first time I'd seen them together - though I'd been so wrapped up in how my world had been so mind-bogglingly altered that day to really notice the bizarre level of devotion. I'd caught on later though, and now it was reaching a point where it was no longer amusing.

I'd brought it up with Edward once, father to father, to see what he thought of it all. He'd chuckled darkly and raised one of those too sculpted eyebrows at me. "You think it's inappropriate?" he said.

"More … a concern. I mean it's not … normal." As soon as the words were out of my mouth I'd regretted them.

Edward laughed. "I guess you should put it in the 'no need to know' category then," he'd said.

I didn't appreciate his amusement and opened my mouth to say so, but he'd held a hand up to placate me. "It's fine Charlie," he said. "Honestly, while it's more than a little irritating, there's no real harm. I'd put a stop to it otherwise."

"Hmm," I grunted, a little irritated myself. The kid's unshakable confidence and assumption of authority just rattled me sometimes. He sounded like a man twice his age when he spoke that way when in reality he was barely older than Jacob.

I watched as Nessie hugged her too long legs to her chest and suddenly wondered for the first time how old Edward really was. Nessie was growing at a rate that, frankly, frightened me senseless some days, and her affinity with facts and languages gave her that same confidence her father seemed to possess. Had Edward grown this fast? Was he, in truth, even younger than his supposed nineteen years? It would certainly explain the rush to get married if he was aging at ten times the normal rate, but that didn't make sense. Ness was changing by the minute. Edward appeared as youthful as he had the day he'd first entered my house with his oddly formal self-introduction.

Did he learn the way his daughter did? If so, he kept it well hidden, but I knew all to well how skilled he was at hiding things. He'd been accepted to Dartmouth, Harvard, Princeton ... That suggested he was smarter than average.

Jake's attention had finally broken away from the little angel now curled to his side, and he was giving me a shrewd look. "Penny for your thoughts," he said.

I fought back a sigh, not wanting to make this a big deal when it had been made abundantly clear that making big deals could potentially lose me my family. "Can you go along with the lies?" Edward had asked all those months ago. I'd agreed I could, and had obediently accepted the excuses so far – "it's just a growth spurt", "she's four years old, it's completely normal" - but looking at Nessie now, I was scared. I might not be able to read French but I could multiply with the best of them. Nessie's life was flashing before all our eyes.

"Just thinking on how much she's grown," I said, forcing an upbeat note. It must not have been convincing though because now they were both eying me carefully, the too mature expression on Nessie's face only adding to my worries.

Jacob nodded thoughtfully, his eyes turning back to his favourite subject. "Yeah," he said happily, "it's impressive, huh?" He slung one arm around her slim shoulders, reached for a soda with the other, and let his gaze casually wander to the TV as he took a sip. "She's slowing down though," he added offhandedly. "I reckon she'll actually look her age one day."

I took that in carefully, taking a minute to work it out. It sounded casual as heck, but something in the way he said it reminded me of how Billy would part with massive bombshells. "I'm going down to the beach to see if I left my bottle opener, I think I may need it later. My son was born, you know how it is."

I met Nessie's eyes as she gave me a reassuring smile - the eight month old reassuring her grandfather – and I chuckled as the relief came. She was healthy, and apparently set to live a long life.

Nessie's smile tripled and she turned to Jacob to nod in approval. Jake winked at her and pulled her a little closer, making my discomfort grow again. The relationship was far too mature, the exchange just a little too intimate …

"Jacob," I said sternly, suddenly having had enough. He turned to me in surprise, clearly taken aback by my sudden change of tone. "A word." I got up and went to the porch, forcing myself not to look to see if he was following. I didn't hear footsteps behind me, but I'd recently learnt that this meant little where the Quilliette kids were concerned - Seth had unintentionally snuck up on me a few times when I was over at Sue's, creating a couple of awkward moments I preferred not to dwell on – and I didn't want to show any weakness by revealing I was uncertain of his cooperation.

I turned, and as I'd hoped, Jake had obediently followed. He stepped past me, out onto the porch, brows raised apprehensively, and as a went to close the door I caught a glimpse of Nessie's wide eyes as she twisted herself around on the sofa to watch us. I tried to return her reassuring smile from earlier before clicking the door closed.

I took a deep breath and turned to Jake, completely uncomfortable, but knowing this discussion had to happen. A horrifying memory of the talk I'd once initiated with Bella regarding responsible sex came to mind, and I cringed inwardly as I realised how very unsuccessful that had been; the proof of my inadequate parenting now sitting nervously on my sofa.

I screwed up my nerve. "Listen," I said. He nodded. "I've know you since you were this high, and I like to think I know what kind of kid you are." He nodded again, an inkling of understanding showing on his face before it became remarkably blank, which, at that moment, did nothing for my faith in him. I powered on.

"I'd like to think this interest in my granddaughter is …" I reached for the right words, "Well … I mean it's … " and that was it. The embarrassment of what I was implying was sinking in and I could feel my face turning scarlet. "Help me out here," I appealed awkwardly.

Jake's arms came up and crossed defensively over his chest as he took a cautious step back from me, his eyes far more wary than they should have been if my fears were unfounded.

Then again, I'd just implied that he was carrying on an inappropriate relationship with a small child. Perhaps he was right to back away.

"I know what it must seem like," he said carefully, "but I swear to you Charlie, it's nothing you need to worry about. Really. It's in the "no need to know" category anyway, so ..."

His look of regret said he realised at once how very much that was the wrong thing to say.

"She's my granddaughter Jake," I said coldly, feeling the burn of anger rising from within. "And this isn't some … some …" I stuttered, not wanting to acknowledge the bizarre truth out loud as the words Edward had spoken that fateful day repeated themselves in my head - "Can you go along with the lies?" Jake was using my fear of losing my family to get me to back off and that was not even a little acceptable.

"This is something I need to know Jacob, and you're not using your … unusual situation, to get out of this. You're not just her babysitter, I can see that much, and you're … I mean, you don't hang out with your friends anymore, other than Bella, but I'm starting to think your visits to the Cullen's have more to do with Renesme than your friendship with my daughter.

"Now, Edward and Bella are young parents and they might not see what's going on here, but so help me …"

"Woah, woah, woah!" cried Jake, his hands up in defence. I glowered at him. "Charlie, it's not like that, it's … !" he trailed off, uncomfortable. "Charlie, it really is … werewolf," - he raised his voice to speak the word over my protest, and I fought the urge to childishly cover my ears, - "related."

I was furious for a moment. He really was using the 'need to know' rule to avoid this conversation! Then I looked at his face. There was real distress there and I realised he just might be being straight with me.

"Need to know?" I asked flatly.

He nodded, a small amount of relief crawling into his expression as he realised I was taking him seriously.

"Hit me," I said.

It took Jake a moment to understand that I actually wanted a little info on the supernatural here. "You sure Charlie?" he asked hesitantly. "I can't take this back."

I clenched my jaw and nodded resolutely. I meant it. I could go along with the lies, but I needed the truth on this one. He'd just revealed that Nessie's unnatural growth spurts were slowing down and he could break the rules again to reveal this too … whatever the hell this was.

"Okay," he said finally, "I'll explain." He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said again, this time to himself, gearing up for whatever it was he was about to share with me. He was nervous, that was obvious, and it made me nervous too.

"Look, Charlie, there's a thing that happens sometimes with wolves. It's not all of us, but it's not rare either. We call it … imprinting."

I laughed without humour. I couldn't help it. "What, like baby birds when they hatch?" I asked, the image of those huge, heavily muscled La Push kids following a mother duck around coming unbidden to my mind's eye.

Jake laughed too, albeit in a subdued kind of way. "Kind of," he allowed. "It's that kind of devotion, I guess. The need to follow that person - not to learn like the birds do - but to protect, to care for … to make sure that person is happy, safe … always."

I nodded, as though this were making sense, urging him to go on.

Encouraged Jake continued. "It's not romantic," he assured me, finally giving voice to my darkest fear. "She's eight months old, of course it's not romantic! It's more like … a need to hang around. Like I need to see for myself that she's got everything she needs."

I processed that, mulling it over. It didn't sound so bad, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew where this was leading. "And this will continue," I guessed, "as she gets older?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah." He said simply.

I nodded. "You got any expectations Jake?" I asked bluntly.

He frowned, clearly unhappy. "Hopes," he said eventually. "But she's her own person, and she'll decide what she wants when the time comes."

I didn't like the way that sounded. "Hopes," I repeated darkly.

Jake turned away, his hand coming up to his forehead. With his back to me he continued on. "Imprinting isn't a demanding thing Charlie. I'll be whatever she needs me to be - protector, brother, friend. She'll be free to choose whoever she wants when the time comes, and believe me her parents will make sure of that, but I'll always be there. I'll always be what she needs, and why would she not choose that?"

His voice had taken on a tone of melancholy, and I knew instinctively that he was not certain that she would eventually choose him.

"Hopes," I repeated calmly, still not terribly impressed, but accepting at least that this was not the depraved obsession I'd been trying not to consider in my head.

"That's all," said Jake.

"And Bella and Edward are aware of this?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.

"Yeah," he answered eagerly. "Yeah, they know all about it."

"And what do they think of it?"

"They're fine with it," he said, a little too quickly. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, they're mildly irritated - sometimes. But mostly they're fine with it. I mean they haven't barred me from the house or anything. They knew about imprinting before this happened so they had some background."

I grimaced. Of course they knew. Edward's laugh it off attitude towards Jake's constant presence at his daughter's side was suddenly making more sense.

Jake was watching my face closely. "So, I think the game is starting," he said, clearly trying to change the topic.

I gave him a derisive look, but caved. "There's some popcorn in the pantry," I said. "Go microwave it."

Jake gave me lopsided smirk and mocking salute before bobbing his too tall frame through the front door to do as I asked.

I sighed and returned to Nessie, taking Jake's place on the sofa and draping my own arm around her shoulder. She grinned up at me in a hopeful way. "Grandpa Charlie?"

"Yes Renesme?" I said, expecting some kind of sports question on the game she'd been watching.

Instead she nodded to the kitchen where we could hear Jake rummaging around for a bowl. "He's mine you know," she said solemnly. "He's mine and I'll look after him."

For a moment she seemed very much like a young child promising to look after a pet and I couldn't help but laugh. In a sane world Jake should probably be offended at the idea of being owned by an infant.

And then I remembered that the supposed infant had been reading French poetry only minutes earlier, and it struck me that she did not miss any of the implicit details of this imprinting thing - a phenomenon that I abruptly realised made Jake the far more vulnerable party. This earnest child understood the responsibility riding on her tiny shoulders.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling this was giving me in my gut, I was proud. I gave her a smile. "You do that kid," I said. "You do that."