A/N: This came out of nowhere. It was originally published in seven parts in 2008. There aren't any spoilers. I didn't have a beta. I do, however, hope that you thoroughly enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

"I'm not sure that I feel comfortable with this…" I began, but as usual, Edward didn't even let me finish my protest—

"There's no reason for you to be uncomfortable. This is my home, and you know you're welcome here. Besides, you're safer here than anywhere else while I'm gone," he reassured me while cradling my face in his cold hands. He wouldn't have said that a few months ago, but he had come to trust his family, particularly Alice's visions because she reassured him often that no one in the family was going to make me dinner. It made me feel better too, to know that, but still, there was no reason for me to have to have a sleepover at the Cullen house every time he went hunting. It was usually less awkward than this though. Usually, Alice stayed with me for a few days while the others went, but this time, that was not the case.

"Are you ready?" Esme asked, waiting for Edward to join the rest of the adopted brood. Then, she turned to me. "You know the rules—make yourself at home. I actually got to go grocery shopping," she announced joyfully, "so don't be shy. If you don't eat it, it will just go to waste."

I couldn't help but smile at her. Esme was always so nice and it always excited her to get to do the domestic things that I took for granted. "No, right, of course," I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. I still got embarrassed by the way she made such a fuss over me.
"Good," she said, with another winning smile. "If you need anything at all, let Carlisle know."

"Okay ," I said, hoping that my cheeks weren't getting all red and hot. It was awkward, the thought of staying here with just Carlisle. As it turned out though, he'd just got back from hunting because he had a couple of surgeries scheduled for the week and although he was practically immune to the scent of human blood now, it was still more comfortable if he had recently fed. So I said my good-byes to Edward and the rest of the Cullens and watched them hop out of the kitchen window and disappear into the woods.

The departure was so quick that it left me feeling awkward standing there in the kitchen by myself. Out of curiosity, I opened the refrigerator and sighed. The whole thing was packed. Esme always outdid herself. I was going to get fat staying here. I closed the door and sighed again, moving from the kitchen into the living room and then up the stairs. I wandered into Edward's room and then out. Into the library, and out of that as well. It was too quiet. I finally gave up and went back downstairs, flopping down on the couch to watch t.v.
I was nearly asleep when I heard the sound of someone coming in the door. I was glad that at least Carlisle was habitually human in that way. He announced his presence with a cheerful greeting, always careful not to startle me. That was probably a habit too, but I appreciated. I pushed myself off the couch and met him in the foyer while he was shucking off a light coat and scarf. It was nearly fall now, which in my opinion made it absolutely miserable because as rainy and blah as it was during the spring and summer? The fall and winter would have given anyone a case of SAD. "You're home early," I said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Carlisle just gave me that smile of his—it was very warm and comforting, the same smile he'd given me after my near-death-by-vanning. "I've been there almost all night," he explained. "I have to leave some time to get some sleep you know." I knew what he meant. He couldn't just live at the hospital and would need to seem like he went home and slept, especially before a surgery.

"Oh, um, yeah, of course," I said, finding myself backing up a bit. I wasn't completely comfortable around Carlisle. It's not that I was scared of him or anything. I knew he wasn't going to hurt me. It just felt…tense. I rubbed the back of my neck and then motioned towards the living room. "Uh…the game's on if you wanna watch it."

His smile broadened and my heart suddenly skipped a beat or two. I ignored it. It happened when all the Cullens smiled at me. They were just all so ridiculously beautiful that it was almost impossible not to get butterflies in your stomach. Unless it was Rosalie doing the smiling, then I always worried for my life. I wish he'd sat anywhere else except on the couch where I'd built a nest of blankets because now if I sat somewhere else it would be obvious that I was trying to get away from him. So I sat down once more and curled up with my blankets. It wasn't long though before the awkwardness evaporated. I'm not really a sports-enthusiast…like at all, but having a step-dad who was a minor league player, a dad who was pretty fanatical himself (not to mention his friends who came over), and hanging around the Cullens, well, I've gotten a little more cultured about sports in general.

One minute I was sitting all self-consciously absently picking at my cuticles and watching the television, and just a few minutes after that, Carlisle and I were both sitting on the edge of the couch yelling at the runner who was caught in between second and third base in a show down with the short stop and third baseman. I didn't realize until after the play was over that I'd been alternately slapping the top of Carlisle's leg yelling "GO GO GO!" and then shrieking when the player was almost tagged out and hiding my face against the vampire's shoulder "I can't stand it, tell me when it's over!". Okay that was a little awkward. It didn't get any better when he leaned over a bit and spoke directly into my ear in a low voice, "He's out." That warranted more than a butterfly in the stomach or a skip in the beat of my heart. No, my stomach pretty much turned itself inside out and my heart? It just stopped. There was no point in it beating anyway because there was no blood there to pump. It had all settled in my face and then lower. I don't know how I get myself into these positions.

I leaned back, trying to suck in enough air so that I could make a coherent sound. "Oh…" I breathed, feeling my head spin, "that's too bad." I knew that I needed to move back away from him, but for some reason my body didn't seem to want to obey my mental directions—of course, I probably wouldn't have either if I'd been my body (not that I'm not, but…anyway). The messages were so conflicting coming from my brain. The logical part that could recognize danger in all its forms was telling me that this was a very bad position and I needed to move. Now. The less-restrained part of my brain…the part that I let control me more than it should was purring seductively to stay right where I was. Logical brain recites the speech Edward gave me about vampires being the ultimate predators and everything about them inviting me in. Not-Logical-Brain says it doesn't care because has logical brain been looking into those molten gold eyes for the last thirty seconds? Of course then, my stomach had to get involved in the whole thing and growl in a very unladylike sort of way. That gave logical brain enough time to shake me out of my stupor. I scooted back from him and smiled nervously before standing up. He stood as well, an act of chivalry that so few men used anymore. It had taken me a while to get used to Edward doing it, but now it just seemed normal. It was different when Carlisle did it though. Edward's was more of a formal, courteous habit. When Carlisle stood, it felt more like he wanted to do it rather than it simply being in in-grained behavior.

"I should probably eat," I said, placing a hand on my stomach. "Esme will be really disappointed if all that food spoils."

Carlisle laughed and it made my heart leap into my throat. Stop it stop it stop it! "Yes, there is enough in there to feed a small army. Esme got very…excited," he explained, almost apologetically. Carlisle, after all, was much more in touch with the needs of the human body and knew I couldn't eat that much food if I'd been living there full time for a month. The way he spoke about his wife though was so fond and I didn't understand the sudden stab of jealousy. Edward talked about me the same way, I knew, but I couldn't pretend the pang hadn't occurred. I could pretend, however, that it was just because I was missing him. That made the jealousy more guilt-free.

"Hmm…I could go for pancakes," I said because something sweet sounded good and the organic maple syrup I had seen in the kitchen was singing to me with its siren call. "If you want…I can teach you how to make them. I'm no Rachel Ray or anything but…" I didn't even know why I was offering. He had no reason to ever make pancakes. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to stay in his company, but if that was the case I was definitely not admitting it to myself. Besides, I was just trying to be fair. Who knows, one day he might be in charge of bringing something for a potluck and want to make it himself instead of just buying it.

He nodded, which surprised me, and held his hand open to gesture for me to go first into the kitchen. I went, wishing I could feel like more than just hands, hips, and teeth. I knew at that moment there was no way I was walking gracefully—as long as I could keep my feet under me though I would be content. Surprisingly enough, I managed just that—no tripping or falling flat on my face or anything. I was feeling very accomplished as I gathered everything together to make the pancakes. Maybe this wasn't going to go completely awry. I placed a large bowl in his hands and then emptied the mix into the bowl and added water. "Stir that, but not like…too much because it will get all stiff and make them chewy," I told him, gesturing very seriously with the whisk before handing it over to him. He saluted me with the whisk and gave me this lop-sided smile that made me feel more melty than the butter in the pan. Everything was going very well. My pancakes looked gorgeous when I flipped them and Carlisle was right next to me pouring new pancakes as I moved the finished cakes over to a plate.

"Okay," I said, cutting off the stove. "Now, for the finishing touches," I announced, handing him the whipped cream. I washed off a handful of blueberries and then pointed to a lone pancake on a plate. "Shake that up, point it at the pancake and squeeze." It was so weird to me to have to say things like that but I suppose if it had been over a hundred years since I'd dealt with anything food related I'd probably be confused too. Of course, it's always been a failing that I'm not specific enough. I watched as Carlisle shook the can and aimed it at the pancake…and nothing happened. Blonde brows knitted together and he tried again, nothing. So he shook the can again vigorously and I should have stopped him then but it didn't occur to me where this was going until he really squeezed "Carlisle—no it's-!" BOOM! The can exploded under his iron grip. I screamed and covered my face, but it did no good. When I opened my eyes I was covered in whipped cream. He, too, was covered in whipped cream, as was the rest of the kitchen. For a second he looked as startled as I had but then his lips cracked into a smile again and we both burst into laughter. I don't know what came over me then; maybe it was just the laughter and rush of blood that came from being startled that was making me brave but I took one of the blueberries I'd washed and placed it on his nose on top of a fluffy glob of whipped topping, "There, almost good enough to eat."

As soon as I said it I wished I could die. Just crawl under a rock and die. How could I have even said that to him? I felt the blood immediately rush to my cheeks. I saw his eyebrow lift ever so slightly and I didn't even want to hear what he was going to say in reply. But then something happened that I wasn't expecting at all. Carlisle reached up and plucked the blueberry off the tip of his nose. He studied it for a moment and then held it out to me. I reached out to take it from between his fingers with my own, but he pulled it back and made a soft "Ah ah" sound at me to indicate I wasn't doing it right. I dropped my hand, confused and he took a step closer, holding up the blueberry again, this time perilously close to my mouth. Realization dawned on me then about what he was expecting. The blood that was in my face all drained out and settled somewhere heavy around the lower part of my abdomen. Again, he quirked his eyebrow and I parted my lips. I could have hoped that he'd simply pop it in and be done with it, but like it or not, he was a vampire, a predator and he still liked the game. I knew he could hear the way my heart was racing. The blueberry was placed slowly into my mouth and then he traced my lower lip with his thumb to close my lips. Thank goodness for automatic reflexes because my hungry stomach reminded my brain to chew, which I did and swallowed, though it felt a lot thicker than just a blueberry. I was breathless.

My brain was trying to remind my lungs to breathe but at the same time was too absorbed with the pale man in front of me to really consider breathing necessary.On the upside, I thought vaguely, if I faint from not breathing that just means I'll wake up with him… Oh, and I could see it now. Me—falling out right there on the spot and him catching me before I hit the ground in his all-too capable hands. Then, he would scoop me up and carry me to the sofa and lay me down gently and kneel next to me, calling my name to wake me up—a cold hand on my cheeks. I could imagine his voice, filled with concern: Bella…Bella…?

"Bella?" he asked, his smile turning into something of a smirk, this time with both brows raised.

My face went immediately scarlet when I realized that my little Sleeping Beauty fantasy had completely run away with me and I hadn't been imagining him saying my name. So, about that rock I wanted to crawl under…? "Oh, sorry? I was just…uh…in shock at the mess we just made. I guess I got distracted." I knew he knew the truth of the matter because I'd been looking at him the entire time, but he was gracious enough not to embarrass me further.

"Of course," he said, looking around and chuckling again. "It's quite decorative, don't you think?" I nodded dumbly. "Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up and I'll take care of this."

"Carlisle, no, don't be ridiculous, I—"

He interrupted me before I could finish my protest. Like father, like son, I guess. "I won't hear of it, Bella, not while you're a guest in myhome." I don't know what it was about the emphasis of it being his home that made my stomach turn a funny little flip. "Go," he said then, shooing me away with a hand. So I went, or started to anyway until his voice turned me around again, "Pick out something warm to wear. The hospital is usually cold."
Although I couldn't see my expression, the amusement on his face told me that my look was that of a deer caught in headlights. "Why do I care about the temperature in the hospital?"
"Because you'll be there for a while this afternoon and this evening," he pointed out, already starting to clean up the mess, which was good, because it meant I didn't have eye-contact with him.

"Ooooooh no. Really, no. I'll be fine here Carlisle. Really, I—"

"Ah ah," he said, cutting me off again. Okay, I was going to have to have a serious sit-down discussion with the men in this family about letting me finish my very well thought out protests about why whatever they were suggesting was a bad idea. "I have been charged with keeping you safe, dear Bella," okay, that just made my heart flutter again, "which means keeping you close at all times. So naturally, you'll have to come with me to the hospital. You can stay in my office if you—"

It was my turn to cut him off, "But I hate hospitals, Carlisle. I've spent enough time in them already—more than enough." My tone was bordering on whiny and I knew it.
"Bella," he began gently and moved fluidly around the island in the middle of the kitchen so that he was standing in front of me once more. There was a mischievous twinkle in his deep golden eyes that I wasn't so sure I trusted. "There is no need to be scared of hospitals. I'm the scariest thing there and you aren't scared of me, are you?"

Boy was that a loaded question.

"No", I responded after taking a minute to slow my pulse to make my body as convincing as my words, "I'm not scared of you. I know you'd never hurt me." And that was the truth. I knew Edward would never hurt me intentionally, Carlisle, on the other hand, I knew would never hurt me—period.

"You're not scared? Are you sure?" he asked and like that was close enough that if I'd taken a deep breath we would have been touching. I didn't have to take a deep breath though because now he was the one touching me. His cold hand was curled around my throat and I thought for a second maybe he was trying to scare me until I realized that there was the slightest pressure by two of his fingers just below my jaw. "Your heart is beating awfully fast, Bella," he pointed out. I knew then that I was in trouble. He had no need to actually check my pulse. He could have heard it easily from upstairs, a few feet away was obstacle at all.

"Okay," I admitted, swallowing thickly, "maybe I am a little scared…of hospitals," I finally got out.

He stepped back then and smiled, folding his hands in front of him. "I suppose I'm just going to have to help you get over that," he said in an easy, perfectly non-threatening tone. "There really is nothing to be afraid of there, Bella, although I understand where your fear comes from. I have time in between my afternoon and evening surgeries. I'll show you around. Perhaps when you've seen what goes on…behind the scenes, you won't be so frightened."

I nodded dumbly. "Sounds good," I mumbled. "I'm going to go and clean up then." I tried not to run when I turned away from him…and I was mostly successful, at least until I got to the steps. I knew he heard me sprint up them though, and stumble on the top step. At least I didn't go sprawling face-first onto the landing though. I went and got my clothes out of Alice's room (she actually had a bed, unlike Edward) and then went locked myself in the bathroom.

Upon taking inventory of myself I found that I was indeed covered in whipped cream that was now starting to dry in my hair. "Gross," I said and reached over to turn on the water. The showers in the Cullen house were a thing of beauty, the sort that you would see in a movie with the large glass blocks and marble enclosing you…but without completely closing you in. The shower was full of all sorts of bottles and interesting potions. Alice was big on different scents, which made taking a shower something like going to the store and picking out a new body wash. I sighed and let myself shrink back into the hot spray. Hot water ran down over my shoulders over my back and front. I brought my hands up and slid them across my stomach, gasping at how cold they were compared to the hot water. It made my mind wander about how a different pair of cold hands would feel on my body in that shower. I leaned back against a part of the marble that had not been touched by the water, finding it colder than my own hands but certainly more solid. Solid in the way that Carlisle would have been if he'd pulled me back against his chest. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against the wall, daring to let a soft moan escape from between my lips. This was ridiculous. What was wrong with me?

I had to get out of that shower quickly before I really let my imagination run away with me. This was beyond frustrating. I blamed Edward for this completely. My sex drive had been all but dormant until I came to Forks. Now, I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. Edward certainly had no intentions of relieving the situation, which left it to me. Patience though, is not my strong suit and any attempt I'd made at easing the constant tension wound up just tightening the strings a little more without any release. I'd resigned myself to the idea that one day I was just going to snap and whether or not Edward wanted to wait was not going to matter because I was going to get my way about it. I bathed quickly, gritting my teeth as the fluffy sponge I'd brought with me grazed over the more sensitive areas. I couldn't take this. I definitely couldn't go downstairs and face Carlisle in this condition.

I had to cool off. I closed my eyes, whining a little to myself about how there had to be some other way. This was, I'd discovered, the best way to break the cycle of arousal because there was no way to stay wound up under an ice bath. One…two…I slammed the temperature control all the way to the left and the water went glacial. I gasped loudly, deeply when the frigid water hit my overheated body. My breath came in fast gulps, my hands flailing at my sides for a minute until I finally just covered my face to wait for my body to go numb to the needling spray.

It was for the best, or so I thought. I didn't think about how it would sound to anyone else. But then, I wasn't used to anyone else hearing everything that went on while I took a shower. I suppose to anyone else who had been listening it would have sounded like I was hyperventilating in the self-imposed ice bath, and if someone had been listening to my heart, no doubt the pulse spiked with the adrenaline rush that came from steeling my body against the cold. Unfortunately for me—someone had been listening to those things.

I didn't hear him come in until he seized me by the wrists. "Bella! Are you—oh for heaven's—" he stopped speaking and let go of me with one hand, reaching around me to shut the water off. He pulled my hands away from my face and I must have looked shocked. I certainlyfelt shocked standing there face to face with the doctor. His hair had gotten wet turning off the water which caused it to fall forward more instead of the perfectly adjusted and smoothed back appearance it usually had. Water dripped off the tips that looked like they wanted to curl. I hadn't heard his lecture, well most of it, I caught the last half, "it sounded like you were hyperventilating, or having an asthma attack, I'm so sorry…"

I guess at that point it occurred to him that there was nothing seriously wrong with me (if he only knew) and he was as embarrassed to have been standing there with me naked as I was going to be once I came to my senses because he reached around the corner and got the towel I'd hung there. He wrapped me in the fluffy material and don't think for a minute I hadn't noticed the glance down that his eyes made before tucking one end of the towel in to keep it up. I wish desperately that action hadn't placed his cold fingers in contact with the soft swell of my breast because I recognized the way I took a breath in order to prolong the contact—to deepen it. I was pretty sure he'd noticed it too. Carlisle though, the ever cool and composed just pushed his hand back through his hair to smooth it back again and then put both hands on his hips, squinting at the shower head. "Huh, I guess an element went out," he said, sparing me at least a little dignity in the matter, "the hot water usually lasts longer than that. I'll have to get that looked at."

"Yeah," I said, clutching at the towel and brushing past him on my way out. I tried to tell myself that it was unintentional and unavoidable but I was starting to realize (or at least admit to myself) that it was anything but. "Um…I'll…be ready to go in a few minutes," I squeaked out. Now I was shivering and covered with goose bumps but that wasn't stopping the warmth spreading inside my body regardless of if it reached the surface. This was absolutely miserable.

"All right," he said, again right over my shoulder. Damn it, he did that on purpose. Did the man have no decency to let me suffer in my embarrassment without adding more to it? I went quickly into Alice's room and shut the door. I locked it too, not that it would keep him out if he truly wanted in, but it was the principle of the matter!

I got dressed in a deep green shirt that buttoned all the way down and a pair of jeans. I put on a gray 'page boy' cap that Alice had decided looked incredibly cute on me and a scarf that had blocks of gray, plum, and green on it. The scarf was probably a little much, but I really do hate the cold. My coat was downstairs so I couldn't hide forever. Unfortunately. I made my way down the stairs trying to fluff my still-damp hair. Carlisle was already waiting for me by the front door, my coat in hand. Of course he was.

"Miss Swan," he said, holding up my coat to help me put it on. There was just enough mirth in his tone that I knew he was having fun with this. I slipped one arm into the wool coat and then turned my back to him so put the other one in. Carlisle adjusted the coat on me and then ran his fingers just below the collar to smooth it out, grazing my neck in the process. A whole new wave of goose bumps popped up then. This was going to be the longest day of my life.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, too quiet. I was starting to think that he was just taking a sick pleasure in listening to the way my heart jumped every time he moved and how shallow my breathing was to try and not make a lot of noise. The thing about hanging around vampires is…you start to realize after a while just how loud you really are—without even meaning to be! All the breathing and sniffling and shifting and tapping. So there I was, sitting as still as I possibly could, breathing as lightly as I possibly could and trying to keep my eyes focused perfectly on the road ahead. I was counting seconds for every breath. In for three, hold for three, out for three, hold for three. It was good, this distraction. It kept my mind occupied for the most part…he did have a rather large back seat…damn it! For the most part.

When we arrived at the hospital there was no one around, so he took the liberty of opening my car door for me before I had even really processed that we had stopped. I stared at the pale hand he offered for a second too long. "Come now, Isabella, I don't bite." I hated him at that moment. Firstly, for making teasing me (as I knew good and well that he did bite and that I wouldn't be completely opposed to him being the one to turn me) and secondly for using my full name—mostly because to hear that name on his lips felt more like diving into pure, unadulterated sin than anything else I'd ever experienced. It made me wonder why I'd always insisted on "just Bella".

I took his hand and considered briefly making some smart comment under my breath, but again when you hang around vampires—there's no such thing as under your breath. Oh sure, they could talk in front of you all day long and you'd never know it but just try to get one thing past them. I settled for a quiet "thank you" as I used his hand to pull myself up. I started to let go immediately once I stood, but found I couldn't reclaim my hand just yet. He had a hold of me. To look at our hands, mine was simply placed on his palm with his thumb covering the tips of my fingers down to the middle knuckle—innocuous, except that he barely had to put forth any effort at all to keep my hand in a vice grip. It made me feel very fragile and very small…and incredibly aroused as well. Unlike Edward, Carlisle never tried to avoid touching me or ever showed anything less than complete confidence in his touch. I wondered again just how sure that touch would be in other ways. I went scarlet and turned too quickly once he released my hand and bounced off the mirror of his car. That was going to leave a bruise. At least I hadn't broken the mirror off though, bruised ribs I could deal with. He chuckled softly and placed a hand on my lower back to guide me around the mirror—as if I hadn't figured out the first time that it wasn't going to move. Hmph!

We didn't enter through the main entrance, a fact for which I was thankful—not that it would have seemed out of place for me to be in a hospital (granted, it was more likely through the emergency entrance than anything else). I pulled my hat down a little lower to cover more of my eyes and let my hair cover a good part of my face. I didn't want anyone to recognize me and ask questions and have it get back to my dad and …just no. I stayed just a little behind him, and most definitely did not glance down to look at his backside. Definitely did not.

He deposited me in his office with the assurance that he would return in a short while. He gave me directions around the hospital, which I knew would be worthless. I wasn't going anywhere. I was feeling a little braver while he removed his outer coat and exchanged it for the white coat hanging in his office, so I made it a point to brush against him when I made my way around his desk and picked up his laptop. I took it with me and plopped down on the small leather couch placed against the wall. He gave me a questioning look and I returned the look with a smile. "What? It's not like I'm going to look up porn on your computer—relax." He made his way over to me then, eyes an intense gold and locked on my own. His pale skin was hardly a contrast to the stark white coat. He leaned forward—far too close and I leaned back against the couch. For the briefest moment I honestly believed he was going to kiss me. I was sorely disappointed when he hit a few buttons on his laptop, never looking away from me.

"I was concerned about HIPPA violations, not pornography," he said in a low voice that felt like velvet sliding over my most intimate places. "Look at what you'd like." I wondered if that was an invitation. I realized I wasn't breathing again. I tried to recover and still maintain some semblance of cool, calm, and collected, so I held my breath a second longer before letting it out in a sound that was more like a "psh!" than anything else. I shooed him away then and snuggled back into the couch. He gave me an odd look then, and I couldn't exactly decipher the meaning behind it.

He left me after that to my own devices, which really, as I soon discovered, weren't all that numerous. I surfed the web for a while, watched some videos on youtube and did some research for a project that wasn't due in my English for another month. I checked my email and myspace at least three times each before giving up on anyone keeping me occupied. I didn't even have a forward from Renee. Very disappointing.

When boredom became too much I finally got over my fear of being recognized and left his office. I wandered up into the maternity ward to see if Forks had any new residents. It had three new, tiny little swaddled bundles all sleeping. Two blues and a pink. I wondered who they would become. The pink bundle squinted her eyes open and yawned. Some place inside of me got very warm and fuzzy watching that and I think my biological clock ticked for all of two seconds.

"They aren't as fragile as they seem," a familiar voice said just behind my ear. This time, I didn't jump…much. I closed my eyes and took in a slow breath and I could see, just for a second, an image that would never be. A much warmer and human Carlisle standing behind me at the window with his arms locked around my waist, looking at our own little pink bundle. I put the thought away from me immediately. Those sorts of thoughts couldn't be attributed to wild teenage hormones. There was something seriously wrong with my head.

"Funny," I remarked, "I keep saying that and no one listens to me." I was referring to myself of course and Edward's insistence that he would hurt me if he ever touched me in the way that I had been craving since our first kiss—a feeling which was becoming increasingly synonymous to the way I felt around Carlisle.

"That's because to us you are as fragile as you seem." I felt then the chill of a single finger trailing down the back of my neck. "Delicate, like blown glass." It sent a shiver down my spine, but at the same time ignited a righteous anger in me. I wanted to prove to him that I was anything but delicate. I didn't have time though to remain indignant because he had placed just enough pressure on my neck to turn me so I would walk with him. "Allow me to prove a point," he said, sounding far too cheerful. At that moment, I knew he was up to something.
We walked down mostly empty hallways until we got down to the area that was reserved mostly for specialists and what not. In Arizona we had an entirely different building dedicated to physicians' offices, but then, there were probably more people in and out of the hospital back home each day than even lived in Forks. He pulled me in to the first open exam room and shut the door. My chest tightened and it was a definitely harder to breathe than it had been five seconds earlier. "Sit," it wasn't a request when he motioned to the padded exam table.

I did as instructed, wrinkling my nose as the paper crackled under my butt. He stepped in front of me, looking very serious. He removed my hat, and then my scarf. "Breathe," he said gently to remind my brain to pay attention to the necessities. Then again, maybe he just wanted me to get a good breath in before his next move. As I was releasing the breath I took I felt a pressure at the top of my chest and then cold fingers just under the buttons. I didn't have to look down to know my shirt was being unbuttoned. I swallowed. I felt then, the back of his hand brush over the swell of my left breast, pushing the shirt away. His hand turned and his fingertips lingered just a little too long. My skin felt like I was burning alive, but I was still shivering. I watched him, uncertain of what was going to happen now but knowing full and well what I hoped it would involve.

"I want you…" he began, and I felt desire curl in my stomach, "to hear things the way I do." What? He took the stethoscope from around his neck then and placed the ear pieces in my ears and the ridiculously cold round part against my chest. My heart sounded loud in my ears—racing with a background melody of my quickened breathing. Carlisle placed my hand on top of the stethoscope so that I would hold it in place. He stepped away from me and I started to protest to ask the point of all of this, but he held a finger to his lips to silence me. "Close your eyes," he told me, "and breathe slowly—calm your heart. I want you to understand what it is for me to be close to you."

Again, I obeyed without question. I heard him walk across the room away from me and I knew he did it intentionally so I'd understand he wasn't right next to me. For a few minutes that felt like they stretched on for hours I focus on my breathing and my pulse. Both slowed into a normal rhythm. It was surprisingly comforting to listen to. The tension in my muscles started to ease and I felt my face relax into a more natural position rather than being scrunched up in concentration. "Stay focused," he told me, his voice coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the door. "And don't open your eyes." I nodded my acceptance of his terms and focused on the bump-bump bump-bump of my heart and the woosh-swoosh of my breathing. I should have known there was more to this game and there was a point of listening to those sounds.

It was only a minute later but it felt like I'd been there for twenty when I sensed somewhere in the reptilian part of my brain that something had changed. Humans come built in with a danger-sensor and I thought mine had been broken. Apparently I was wrong. My skin started to crawl and I felt the urge to run. Still, my heart and breathing remained steady in spite of my body tensing. And then I heard it—a low growl originating directly under my ear above my jugular. I gasped loudly and it was nearly painful to hear the air rush into my chest that quickly. My pulse tripled beating out a sharp staccato in my ears, nearly drowning out the growling. I wanted to pull away—to jump off that table and turn on him and ask him what the hell he was doing, but the moment I started to lean forward to do just that I felt his lips on my throat. "Stop," he murmured, and I froze. I could hardly concentrate on anything except the sound of my heart, which felt and sounded as though it might burst. He wasn't done with his demonstration though. Carlisle's lips moved with the barest touch from my throat up to my jaw, tracing the line from my ear to my chin. His hands had positioned themselves on my hips, holding me steady. He stopped, hovering just over my lips and I opened my eyes before I was told to do so. The look on his face was a thing of beauty—raw, without the mask that the Cullens so easily put into place. It was a conflicted look, but one I definitely could classify as desire. "Do you understand?" he asked me.

"No," I breathed, pulling the stethoscope from my ears and letting it drop into my lap. I desperately wanted to close the distance between us, but couldn't quite find the muscle control to do it. I watched through half-lidded eyes as he remained perilously close to me.

His hands moved from my hips and he instead placed one on the table next to me and the other directly over my heart, and consequently, the too-warm skin. When I took a deep breath it made my already over-sensitive nipple graze his palm. I was doing everything in my power not to whimper each time I took a breath. It was torture. "When I am near you, this is all I can hear," he explained. "I've maintained perfect control for centuries and you—you threaten that."

I bit my lip then at his explanation. Just great. I knew my blood had that effect on Edward and even Alice had said I smelled exceptionally good, but hearing it again from Carlisle made my heart sink down into my stomach. "So I've heard," I said, sounding a bit more dejected than I would have liked. "Edward says the scent of my blood is like his own personal brand of heroin."

And then he laughed—he laughed! I must have looked affronted because he only laughed harder. "You silly, naïve child," Carlisle said. The hand that had been resting above my heart lifted slightly so it was just his fingertips touching me. Then…I felt those cold fingers start to slide down the curve of my breast into the valley between them and then lower onto the soft plain of my stomach. "It is not your blood I am speaking of." And like that he was gone—back to the other side of the room hanging his stethoscope back around his neck and I was left there trembling and wound so tightly that it was hard to breathe.

That's it , I thought to myself. This has gone on long enough. I steeled my resolve and slid off the table and crossed the room to where he was. "Where are you going, Dr. Cullen?" I asked in the most innocent voice I could muster. He didn't know what was in store for him now. He'd pushed me too far. "Now it's my turn." He cocked a blond brow at me questioningly. I pointed at the table, making sure to use my I-mean-business-face. "Sit." Now he just looked amused. He wouldn't be amused for long, I decided. I walked back over to the table, moving in between his slightly spread legs so that I was pressed against the table and nearly against him. "I want you," I began, surprised at how steady my voice came out, "to feel things the way I do." All the tension he had caused? He was about to pay.

"Bella—" he began, and I was sure he was about to tell me that whatever I was planning was a very bad idea. I didn't care, and I didn't want to hear it. I got my first taste of revenge by cutting him off.

"Ah-ah," I said, mimicking his earlier tone. I punctuated it by pressing my finger to his cold, smooth lips. "I'm done with talking. Now, close your eyes and focus on your breathing." Not that he needed to breathe, but it was a habit. "And don't open your eyes." He obeyed and I felt a small rush of triumph, but I wasn't ready to call this a complete victory. No, this wasn't over by a long shot.

My hands went first, tracing the lines of his face. My fingers found their way into his hair. My bravado still peaking, I closed my fists and gave a soft tug. Carlisle growled low in his chest and I became even more confident. I used the small step at the end of the exam table to get high enough to plant my knee between his legs, perilously close to his groin. I tugged at his hair again and pushed myself up so that I was straddling his leg. That single action put me in complete contact with him and I knew he could feel the heat radiating from my body to his…particularly against the top of his left thigh. I was embarrassed at how easily he could read me, but at the same time, I knew I had to use it to my advantage. It was the reactions of my body to his presence that had eroded his self-control so much. I realized then my plan of attack: It wasn't so much what I could do to him, but rather, let myself feel completely without reservation and any sense of self-preservation (or modesty for that matter). That alone would drive him far closer to the edge than anything my inexperienced hands or mouth could have done to him—not that I wasn't planning on trying.

Slowly, I told myself, but myself wasn't really listening. My hands were shaking, but you couldn't hear it when my nails dug into the rough white material of his coat, scratching down his back. I'd lowered myself at that point a little bit backwards. My balance was steady, but starting to shake. I ignored it and made quick work of his tie. The silk material slid easily from his collar and into my hands. I draped it around my neck in place of the scarf that he had removed. I had started to unbutton his shirt and was not paying much attention to him. It wasn't until I felt his cold hands move across my stomach and to my back that I realized the draft wasn't just coming down the top of my shirt—no, he'd unbuttoned it all t he way while I had been stripping him of his tie.

I stopped and placed my hands on his wrists and pushed them away. His eyes didn't open, but he smiled and I knew he was humoring me, but it didn't last. When I succeeded in completely unbuttoning his shirt and started to push it, along with the coat, off his shoulders, his hands took hold of me again by my hips. Once more I stopped and placed my hands on his wrists to move them away. This time, though, they didn't move. "Dr. Cullen," I said, trying to sound appropriately chastising. It was a little too breathy for the effect though, "did I not tell you to keep your hands to yourself?"

"No," he replied in a husky voice.

"Oh," I said, flustering a bit. "Well I meant to. Keep your hands to yourself, it's part of the whole game."

"No." And he opened his eyes. They were beautiful, his eyes. A brilliant gold but were darkening around the edges. I was afraid he was going to make me stop and tell me that I was a wanton hussy and that I'd never be able to face him again.

I was wrong.

Faster than I could breathe, faster than I could think, faster than I could blink, I found myself on my back on the exam table with Carlisle on top of me. The growling had settled into something like a lion's purr and I was definitely feeling like prey.

"You didn't let me fin—" I started, but was cut off. This time though, it was his mouth that did the cutting off and for once, this was an interruption I wasn't complaining about.

Kissing Carlisle was very different from kissing Edward. He did not shy away from me, or panic after it got intense and stop the kiss. Carlisle was older than Edward, his control more secure. My lips were going to be bruised and I knew it, but I didn't care. I wasn't even concerned about how I would be explaining it to Edward. That thought scared me—more the lack of concern than having to do it. It all went back to the fact that there was something seriously wrong with my head.

My mind caught back up to my body and I found that my body had been doing just fine on its own. I had come out of my shirt by then and came back to focus in just enough time to hear the rip and feel the fabric burn my skin when Carlisle grabbed the front of my bra and tore it from me. Another mark to explain. Perhaps though, Carlisle was taking my statement in front of the nursery seriously about how I wasn't as fragile as I seemed. If that were the case, he could leave all the marks he wanted—so long as he didn't stop.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows and started to scoot back so that he'd be able to get on the table as well. It wasn't necessary, apparently, and his firm grip kept me rooted to the spot for a moment before pulling me forward. It took my elbows out from under me and I nearly fell because the paper ripped free at the top and slid with me. He wasn't concerned with my lack of grace though and for once I wasn't embarrassed about it either. I was a little too taken with the way the fluorescent light reflected off his bare chest and stomach, framed still by his coat and untucked shirt. I liked the way he looked like that. Carlisle was always so immaculately put together that to see him disheveled was sort of like finding a secret part of him to which so few were privy.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his eyes never left mine, which made it very hard to concentrate enough to answer his questions. Granted, being pulled flush against his still-clothed erection was not helping matters either.

I felt my breath rattle as I tried to suck enough air into my trembling body to form a response. The question was which response I was willing to give. Several came into my mind-some far more dangerous than others for both of us. I settled on one that addressed the here and now rather than the future and forever. "I...I want you," I said carefully. The words felt so foreign in my mouth. I'd thought them so many times about Edward and also about Carlisle in the last two days but I'd never had the nerve to actually say them.

"You want me?" he asked, sounding a little incredulous and at the same time infusing his tone with just a touch of mirth as though to ask 'Is that all?' And no, it wasn't all.

"I need you, Carlisle," I sounded almost whiny. It was embarrassing-he hadn't even finished undressing me, and he was still mostly dressed himself. "Please..."

"Oh? You need me, too?" he was just teasing me now and I knew it. Bastard. One of his hands gripped the ends of the tie that I'd draped around my neck and gave a soft tug so that I went from leaning, to sitting, and eventually standing on the small step. It made me taller than he was, but not by much. It did put his mouth conveniently at the line of my throat. "And what, my dear Isabella, is it that you need from me?" even as he asked the question though his cold lips were on my neck, his teeth grazing over the velvety skin just below my jaw. His hands too had found ways to be occupied-at first with the button and fly of my jeans and next with the smooth skin of my hips and thighs when the last vestiges of my modesty were pushed down past my knees.

The exam room was cold. His hands and mouth were colder. My body reacted to the cold with a blanket of goosebumps and my nipples tightening so much that it was almost painful. And yet? I felt like I was burning alive from want. His mouth trailed lower and although his tongue provided no relief from the chill in the room it did a great job at fanning the flames already threatening to consume me. The only contrast to the cold of the room was just how warm and slick it felt at the juncture of my thighs. Every slight shift in position and I could feel it. I was about to start whining again when I felt his tongue curl around my nipple and his lips close over it as well. His mouth was so cold it was almost painful but my need for him was far more so. We could have been standing in the middle of the arctic and I still would have welcomed that touch. My knees threatened to buckle at the sensation. He must have sensed it because he ceased his ministrations on my breast and placed his hands on my hips, willing me to sit back down. His hand slid from my navel up to just below the hollow of my throat and exerted just enough pressure that I would lie back again. I felt the rattle as he pushed the step back into the base of the table and realized a moment too late that he did this to be able to get closer.

Again, his mouth was on my overly-sensitive nipple, this time with teeth playing over the taut bud. I gasped and arched my back, pressing up against his mouth. His control was so careful, so perfect. I didn't have to worry that he'd lose control with me. I was the one who needed to be worried about. Carlisle gave my hips another tug and slid me down until our bodies met. The cold of his stomach felt like shoving a red hot poker into a bucket of ice water when he pulled me against him. I could feel more acutely now just how wet I was when my honey-slicked lips made contact with the cool, dry skin of his stomach. I wasn't thinking when I rocked my hips just enough to get friction between the hard, flat plane of his stomach and myself. I was a little embarrassed at first that I'd done it, but when I heard and felt the growl reverberate through his lips and teeth into my skin it quickly dissipated.

I rocked against him a few more times, feeling certain that if I'd continued that I probably could have gotten off that way, but he pulled back away from me. I almost cried out when I lost the touch of both his mouth and his body, but he did not keep me waiting for long. I watched him slide a single finger from the top of my mound down over the slick folds and then felt it disappear inside of me, joined then by a second. My world felt like it was unravelling and that was just his fingers. My already frayed nerves were stretched thinner as he began an easy rhythm pumping his fingers in and out of me. The feeling was like nothing I could describe or compare. I was on the verge of breaking but still felt unsatisfied.

I knew what was missing. I realized then that I had known want before Carlisle. I'd wanted many things in life, including my vampiric boyfriend. This was beyond want. This was as necessary as breathing. "No...no...stop," I gasped, struggling to remain at the edge of reason.

He did so immediately, removing his fingers and taking a step back. The look on his face was confused at first, and then for a split second I thought he looked abashed. It dawned on me that he thought I wanted him to stop because I'd changed my mind, but that was not the case at all! I sat up and reached out for him, only able to catch the edge of his white coat. He complied though when I tugged at it to pull him closer. His mouth was in a hard line and I saw now for the first time just how vulnerable he was as well. "It's not that," I murmured, brushing my nose over his collarbone. My hands slid down to cup the rock-hard shaft still confined in his slacks. I hoped he was catching on to what I was implying.

"Then what?" he asked in a low voice. I knew better. He just wanted to hear me say it. My already flushed cheeks darkened but I wanted him so badly that I couldn't deny him.

"I want you," I mimicked my earlier statement, but this time punctuated by loosing his erection and wrapping my fingers around his shaft. "I want you inside of me," I clarified. I watched his eyes darken again with lust and the growl that started low in his chest reassured me that I was not going to be disappointed.

He removed his pants the rest of the way and spread my legs once more. There was no preamble-there was no need for one. He slicked the head of his cock by running it between my swollen lips before pushing halfway inside of me. It burned as my body stretched to accommodate him but the feeling was delicious. I felt him stop when he met the fragile resistance inside of me. "Bella..." he began softly. He had probably assumed I was a virgin but now perhaps the fact of the matter was making him second-guess.

"Take it," I gasped, angling my hips down and causing the burn to increase with the pressure against my maidenhead. "I don't care," about what? His reservations? My comfort? What on earth we were going to tell Edward? All of it. "Just take it. Please, Carlisle..."

He didn't give me another chance to change my mind. His fingers secured my hips and I knew from the pressure they would leave blue-purple marks. I didn't care. Carlisle pulled almost completely out of me before impaling me in one fluid stroke. The initial sting was sharp but faded to a more delectable burn. My eyes closed and my fingers tangled in my own hair as he pulled out of me and thrust back in. I felt full-not just with him but with life. I felt complete. It terrified me.

My ability to think and worry about what all that meant was short-lived though and the worry was replaced with a mind-numbing, earth-shattering pleasure. It built in delicious waves, roiling higher and higher but I couldn't seem to fall over the peak. "Harder, Carlisle..." I pleaded, writhing in his grasp.

"I don't want to hurt you," he ground out and I realized just how much control he was using for our coupling.

"You won't," I panted. I realized though that even if he'd broken me that I wouldn't have cared. I couldn't get enough of him. He grit his teeth to sharpen his focus, but he did comply with my wishes. He thrust into me with enough force that I could feel my bones jarring inside my body but it was exactly what I needed. My eyes opened just enough to watch as the fluorescent bulbs above me seemed to go supernova. My world faded into a shimmery blur and I only vaguely registered the sound of him grunting as he reached his own release.

It wasn't like anything I'd felt before-brilliant, blinding, earth-shattering…and painful. Fuck!. I opened my eyes and although he was lying on top of me, an immovable weight, I tried to push myself up and get away. "It hurts," I gasped suddenly, feeling my stomach contract and pull me into a half seated position.

"It is normal to be sore after the first-" he started, but again, I cut him off.

"No, you don't understand," panicked now, and finding it harder to breathe, "It hurts." Seconds ticked by, minutes and I felt like I was going to claw my skin off. By then he too was looking on the edge of frantic, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I wanted to scream. It felt like my blood was boiling it felt like I was…dying. The realization hit us both at the same time and we stared at each other in shock-well, I stared the best I could because I could hardly breathe at that point.

You see, as it turns out, vampire venom is not relegated solely to their saliva, and while that would have been all fine and dandy if there hadn't been access to my blood stream-that was not the case at all. I was changing, turning, and whether I liked it or not there was no way to stop it, there was no way to suck the venom out of my blood this time considering the entry point (though he certainly could have tried).

"Bella, I-" he didn't know what to say, and I didn't blame him. I didn't know what to say either. After all, this is what I'd wanted, right? To be one of them (and on a baser level, I'd wanted the sex, too).

"Shh," it came out more like a hiss than anything. "Clothes…I can't…what do we…" it wasn't long after that I lost consciousness, and by that I really mean I just lost the ability to speak because there is nothing like that pain. It was worse than anything I'd ever felt, and then more than that, and then more than that. I desperately wanted to lose consciousness, but I couldn't, and yet I couldn't interact with him. I couldn't speak, but if I could have, I would have begged for death-just break my neck, do something, make it stop-I couldn't. My whole world was composed of blazing, excruciating pain, and it never let up. I was completely unaware of what was happening outside of my own personal hell, except that for a time, the pain got even worse (as if I'd believed it to be possible at all), and then suddenly, stillness. I couldn't move. I wanted to scream, I wanted to flail, but my suffering was motionless, and now silent except the constant agony in my mind.

Three days passed, I think. You lose track of time just trying to fight through the next breath. There was no solace, but as time progressed I could hear voices filtering through in and out. I recognized Edward's, Alice's, Carlisle's, and Esme's gentle timbre as she brushed the sweaty hair off my forehead. It brought no relief, until finally…peace. My world finally came into sharp relief and the pain dissipated completely. I opened my eyes and recognized Alice's room, and for a moment I thought it was all a terrible, terrible dream until I realized I heard voices again, but there was no one in the room.

Downstairs I could hear the Cullens speaking as clearly as if they had been in the room with me. I stood up and walked silently-that was a first-to the mirror and examined myself. Pale, too pale, and for the first time in my life, far too beautiful. That couldn't be me, yet, it was. I was changed. I was one of them. Carlisle had…fuck. It all came rushing back furiously how this had happened. Downstairs I didn't hear fighting-I wondered what they had been told and I needed desperately to talk to Carlisle and find out what my story was supposed to be. There was no time though because a second later the door opened and I heard Esme exclaim (happily, might I add) and then I was engulfed in her arms. "Oh Bella!" she cried, "Leave it to you to break your neck falling in the stairwell!" That was what he'd come up with? Lame. But I'd go with it.

"Yeah well, you know-" my sentence paused, was that my voice? It sounded so different. "Hopefully I won't be as clumsy now?" I offered, gaze shifting now as Edward was suddenly replacing his mother. My arms wrapped around him and he felt so familiar, and so different now that I shared his impervious form. Over his shoulder my eyes locked with another's. Golden eyes and a half-smile from the patriarch of the Cullen clan. There was something else behind those eyes that I couldn't quite place-regret, sadness, perhaps jealousy as well because at that moment we realized that the choice was either to rip the family apart completely, or to keep it together with one pretty little lie and a half-moon scar on the back of my shoulder that he'd placed after I'd gone 'out of it' so that we could explain away the real cause of how this happened. I was the one to break eye contact, staring at a spot on the floor then and chewing my lower lip. Edward was talking rapidly, and I was certain he was professing his love for me and apologizing so many times for me becoming one of the 'damned', since he was convinced we were all going to Hell when we did die. I was too lost in thought though to really give a damn about what he was saying though. My heart wasn't beating, but it seemed it wasn't incapable of breaking. I looked up again, and Carlisle was gone, and then my vision was blocked completely by Alice ripping me out of Edward's arms into a crushing embrace, Jasper as well, though he was more tentative. I think he was just glad that he didn't want to eat me now. Emmett was next, picking me up and spinning me, and even Rosalie, though her embrace was slightly more callous. She seemed angry with me, and I knew why. Immediately I flashed back to standing in front of the nursery and although I'd never really wanted children, I understood the emptiness that she felt because for a moment I'd felt the longing, the distant wish for a family, and now-in so many ways it wasn't possible. Our lives now tied up with that lie like a shimmery organza bow that was too gaudy-and I hated it. Everyone was so happy. Everyone but me, even if I gave a world class performance for being happy as well. I suspected, too, that Carlisle shared my distaste for the entire situation.

My saving grace, eventually, was that Edward decided quickly that we should have a place of our own. I was both sad, but ultimately thankful for that because seeing Carlisle felt like torture, and I can say honestly that I would have rather have been burning again. Months went by and my best distraction was learning the nuances of my new life-hunting in the woods, testing my speed, my strength, and certainly my power of will not to careen over the mountain lion and tackle the senior family member in a lot of kinky, blood-drenched sex. Fortunately, as time went by, I mastered all of those things except for when we locked eyes, or he spoke to me, or he pulled me into a 'fatherly' embrace that lasted just a little too long and was a little too tight for the both of us. No one seemed to notice.

They didn't notice either the smirk on his face when he would announce that he was going to the hospital for a surgery and would teasingly ask if I wanted to go with him. I always had the same reply, "You know I'm afraid of hospitals," I'd say in a nearly dismissive tone, thankful now that my heart didn't beat because I knew that it would have been racing at the memory.

"That's a shame," he would said, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "There's nothing scary about a hospital, especially now, for you. I'm the scariest thing in there, and you aren't scared of me are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I'd say with a toss of my hair-I still can't get over how luxurious that feels now, and I'm sure it looks much the same as it feels. "I'm not scared of you. I've got at least six more months that I'll be stronger and faster than you."

But today, today was different. It wasn't his usual casual laugh and wink on his way out the door. Today he seemed more pensive, "Well," he began, tapping at his chin, "perhaps when you are stronger-mentally-and think you can withstand it, I'll really take you along with me."

I blinked several times in rapid succession, thankful that everyone else was wrapped up in a baseball game on television. A slow smile spread over my lips then. "Maybe," I gave a non-committal shrug, "You might be able to help me overcome my fear of hospitals," and for the first time in six months…I had hope.