A/N: Beta'd by americnxidiot (ff net) and Feisty Y. Beden (FFn and Ravelry).

Poodle Skirts and Exceptional Buttons

Mom said I should pick out what I'm going to wear ahead of time. She said it would make it less stressful to get ready. She said I'd probably be nervous enough as it is, so I should try to be as prepared as possible. I agreed, but I didn't do it. I kept putting it off, because I didn't want to deal with it yet. I didn't want to have to figure out who the hell Date Bella is and what she'd like to wear. Now there's no ahead of time left.

I'm still not entirely clear what Date Bella is. Is this some kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing? Is it a hormonal thing? This would've been an excellent topic for sex ed, because I'm fairly certain that knowing what a vas deferens is has little to no practical application in my life.

Oh my God, I can't do this. I'm not mentally prepared for this. Why does this have to be a date? I'm fine spending time with Edward; I look forward to it even, but call it a date and all of a sudden I'm standing in front of my closet full of dread and anxiety, thirty seconds away from yelling something terribly cliché like I have nothing to wear. I really don't have anything to wear though.

My closet only has Regular Bella clothing. Why can't this be a Regular Bella thing? That would be so much simpler, but instead it's a big deal. It's all very official. This is a date. We'll be dating.

I'm pretty sure this is one of those times you're supposed to stick your head between your knees before you hyperventilate yourself unconscious. So I do. There may be some mild rocking as well.

I'm being silly. This is clearly an overly extreme reaction. I may be going on a date, my first date, but it's with Edward. I know Edward. I like Edward. Edward likes me, and I'm sure that he won't stop just because I'm too much like me. That doesn't even make sense.

Fuck it. He said it would be basic. I'm wearing jeans.

00000

I figure I've still got a good twenty minutes, just enough time to properly freak out and then calm down one last time before I have to leave. Then the doorbell rings. I freeze. He's early. Who the fuck shows up early? That's just... it's... oh my God. I'm pretty sure I'm experiencing that twenty minute freak out condensed down into less than a minute. I think this is what it might feel like to be punched in the stomach, except instead of a fist I'm being assaulted by feelings. I swear to God if Edward turns me into some kind of emo kid I'm going to bludgeon him with something really fucking heavy.

I realize my mistake when I hear the front door creak open. I hesitated, and now Dad is alone with Edward. This is so very not good.

Hastily I grab my stuff and race downstairs. I don't slow down enough for the landing and end up hip-checking the railing, but the only thing my brain really registers is hunting rifle. Son of a bitch.

"Dad!" I think my voice just hit a whole new register.

"What?" I'm sure he's trying to sound innocent, but it's a little tricky to pull off when you've got a large gun at your side.

"Again with the guns?"

"I was cleaning it." He's not even trying.

"You better not be cleaning it when we get back."

"Just don't be late. I want you home by midnight." This morning he said eleven, but I'm not going to remind him. He must notice my confusion though. "Your mother called."

I'm going to have to get her something really nice for her birthday.

I finally turn to Edward and smile. He's in jeans and a non-t-shirt too.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I'll see you later, Dad," I say as I walk past him onto the small front porch. As much as I'd like to kiss Edward, I feel way too self-conscious with Dad standing in the open door behind me. Instead we start walking towards his car.

"You look nice. I like the red things," he says, pointing at my top.

"They're flowers."

"I like them."

"Thank you. Your shirt has buttons."

He looks down at himself and touches a button with his fingers. "Yeah, well it pretty much just hangs open without them, which is kind of awkward in public settings."

"Right… I like them."

"You like my buttons?"

"Yep." Date Bella is an idiot. I laugh at myself and say, "They're exceptional buttons."

"Good. I imagine button quality is very important in button-down shirts."

"Well, sure."

Presumably this is Date Edward, who seems to be exactly like normal Edward but with a nicer shirt and bonus awkward conversation.

"You're early," I blurt out.

He shuffles a bit and runs his hand through his hair. "I know. I didn't plan to be, but Emmett kept trying to tell me his foolproof method of getting to second base on the first date, and then Alice tried to attack me with hair gel, so I figured it was probably time to leave. If you need more time, I can wait." He nervously glances back at Dad looming in the doorway.

"No, I'm ready."

"Okay. Should we go, then?" he asks, waving a hand towards his car.

"Sure."

We silently walk the rest of the way to the car, and share a slightly strained smile once we're both seated.

When he pulls away from my house he drives the speed limit, and keeps it up all the way down the street. Date Edward is strange and law-abiding. I'm not sure I like this whole alternate business. Date Bella is giving me a stomach ache.

As soon as we get around the corner, he pulls over to the side of the road.

"Is something wrong? Did obeying the speed limit send your car into shock?"

"My car is fine, smartass. I think we should start again. This hasn't been ideal. Maybe we could try something less terrifying."

"I can't believe he did that. I'm really sorry."

"Well, on the plus side I didn't piss myself, so I think I look pretty good, bravery-wise. On the negative side I didn't get to kiss you. That's mainly the part I want to redo."

My body blushes and smiles and does some coy fluttery eyelash thing completely without my mind's permission. Traitor.

"Hmm… I'm not sure kissing is allowed on the first date, at least not until the end."

"Oh no?"

I shake my head solemnly.

"Are you sure there isn't a loophole for people who have already kissed?"

"I'm afraid I don't have my copy of the official guidelines on me at the moment."

"Then I guess you'll have to make a judgment call."

"You can't just play fast and loose with the rules, Edward. What kind of a girl do you think I am?"

"Well you did let me kiss you in a school bathroom."

"If you're trying to convince me to kiss you, you're not doing very well," I say. "And for the record, you're the kind of guy that follows girls into school bathrooms and kisses them, and I think that's worse. It may even be illegal."

"I don't think it's illegal."

"Guys going into the girls' bathroom?"

"I realize we're not supposed to be there, but I don't think entering the bathroom is illegal," he argues.

"This isn't what we were meant to be talking about. This was really just a secondary point."

"The main point being that we've already kissed, so there's no reason to pretend that we're starting from scratch, progress-wise."

"That was your point."

"Right, your point was that you don't want to kiss me."

"No," I say immediately.

"You do want to kiss me?"

"Of course I do," I respond automatically. Shit.

"Then why are we talking about this?" he asks with a smug little grin. Why are we talking about this?

"What did you just do?" He completely turned the conversation around. I think Date Edward is a hypnotist or something.

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure you have to kiss me now."

I briefly consider coming up with some way to stall him further, but really, why the fuck were we talking about it in the first place?

"That would probably be for the best, if only to keep you from pulling any more mind tricks on me."

"Yes, you should definitely do all you can to prevent me from speaking. I suggest kissing." The look on his face is a little obnoxious, but somehow still cute. I really think Date Edward has magical powers. Maybe that's to counteract the fact that Date Bella is an idiot who compliments buttons and tries to talk cute boys out of kissing her.

"So fucking smug," I mutter, before leaning towards him and pulling on his coat.

"I think I've earned it." And then he kisses me.

It feels just like my non-date kisses with non-Date Edward. For a moment I can pretend I'm not a nervous wreck striking out into new social territory. It's nice. I mean, the feeling of normalcy is nice. The kiss is great. Although the seatbelt starts to dig into my chest, so I blindly try to press the damn release button, unsuccessfully. Edward bats my hand away and does it for me, and then his hand ends up on my face again. I think he might have a thing for touching my face. Is that something people have a thing about? Some kind of tactile face fetish?

We keep moving closer, shifting and rearranging to eliminate as much distance as we can. I think I might hate cars. It's very frustrating trying to kiss in them. Horse and buggies may be slow, but there's pretty much no chance that you'll bang your knee on a gear shifter, and that really hurts.

Edward gets even closer, because he's finally undone his seatbelt, but when his arm flails out to get rid of it his hand hits the horn. I practically jump away from him at the sudden blaring noise.

"Okay, I really don't think that is on the approved list of first date activities," I say.

"That's not what Emmett says," he replies with a small smile.

"So what was Emmett's method?"

He shrugs the question off and dismissively says, "I don't know. It's stupid."

"You just don't want me to know the signs to look for."

He laughs and shakes his head. "No, I just wasn't really listening. I think it was something about smouldering looks and crooked smiles."

"Smouldering looks, huh?"

"But I figure, given my history with fire, that may come off as a little threatening."

"I'm fairly certain he didn't mean for you to look at me like you want to light me on fire."

"No, probably not."

"Because that would be creepy."

"Yes."

"You've already got the smile down though."

"Do I?" And there it is.

00000

"I have no idea where I want to go. I haven't really thought much about college," I reply, before taking another bite of my dinner.

"It's pretty overwhelming."

"It really is. I don't even know what I want to do yet."

"Me neither. I think Carlisle's hoping I'll take an interest in medicine, but I'm not all that fond of blood."

"Blood makes me nauseous, which is unfortunate considering how often I seem to make myself bleed."

"It doesn't really make me sick - I just don't want to have to deal with it all the time."

"You could be an optometrist or a dentist or something," I say.

"No. Basically I want a job that doesn't involve other people's bodily fluids."

"Yeah, me too."

There's a beat of silence before Edward asks, "Are we having a serious conversation right now?"

"I think we are."

"I'm going to be honest: it's weirding me out a bit."

"It does feel odd, doesn't it?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Okay, well then... hm."

"What can we talk about?"

"Well we've done necrophilia," I say.

"A few times."

"And cannibalism."

"With cupcakes, no less."

"Chastity belts."

"Definitely one of my favourites."

"Those were mine. I think it's your turn to come up with something new."

"Uh..." He leans forward and looks thoughtful. "I think this works better when it's more… you know, organic."

"Well... have you burned anything lately?" That's some nice dinner conversation right there.

"Just wood. Although the hamburgers last week were a little borderline."

"Still with the hamburgers?"

"I can barely even grate cheese, Bella. There's not a lot you can do with my level of skill."

"They have cooking classes, you know. I'm sure they have a level so basic they'd teach you how to grate cheese. You may even be able to advance to chopping and slicing. Probably not tomatoes though. Those are tricky, but bread. Bread's pretty easy."

"Why is this so awkward?" he asks with a sigh.

"I don't know. Maybe we should start listing things again. I think we were doing pretty well with that."

"You've been weird."

"Have I?"

"You seem kind of… off."

"What, like bad meat?"

"Like maybe you're not really comfortable with this," he says hesitantly.

"I want to be here, if that's what you mean."

"So what's the problem?"

"I wouldn't say there's a problem." I think Date Bella's screwed me over. "It's just… well, we've spent time together, we've talked, you've even bought me food, but those weren't dates. So, if this is a date…"

"It is."

"…shouldn't it be different somehow?"

"I think the fact that we're both here with the understanding that it is a date makes it a date."

"You don't think it needs to be different?"

"I think that automatically makes it different. I think we could recreate the night I bought you pie, preferably without your date with Newton…"

"That was not a date." He gives me an unbelieving look. "That wasn't supposed to be a date," I amend. "I was tricked. It was an ambush."

"Well, we could do exactly the same thing, but if we thought of it as a date then it would be different from whatever the hell is actually was. Does that make sense?"

"I understand what you mean, but I'm wondering… what were you expecting when you asked me out? What kind of change are you looking for?"

"Umm…" His face scrunches, which is weird and adorable. "Basically I want what we had before with the addition of kissing… and whatever else that may lead to. Also, some kind of promise that you won't kiss other people would be great."

"Oh." That sounds so simple. "So basically it's friendship, but with sexual content."

"And prearranged outings that apparently necessitate the wearing of my one button-down shirt, which I hate, and a hell of a lot of unsolicited advice. On the plus side, if I bring you home too late and your father shoots me, I'll be at least slightly dressy for my hole-in-the-dirt funeral."

"It looks nice on you," I say.

"The whole shirt or just the buttons?" he asks with a teasing smile. God, I love that smile. Just like that I feel fantastic.

"Okay, the buttons thing was random, but at least I used the name instead of referring to the round things."

"I wasn't sure if they were flowers or not. They're sort of… blurry. Well, maybe not blurry, but they don't look like actual flowers."

"I think it's still pretty clear that they're flowers."

"I plead male ignorance of all things petaled. I may have been a bit nervous as well. Plus this is my funeral shirt. The only other time I've worn it was when Carlisle's aunt died, and the collar really bugs me."

"So, you couldn't tell it was a flower because you're a nervous guy in a funeral shirt with an annoying collar?"

He looks at me blankly for a second before he says, "I wasn't supposed to tell you it's my funeral shirt."

"Is that a yes?"

"So where did this 'different' idea come from?" Edward asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"My mom freaked me out by talking about Date Bella, and how you're not supposed to act like you're hanging out with someone when you're on a date."

"Date Bella?"

"I think it's supposed to be some kind of alternate personality reserved for dates."

"I'm not sure I like that idea. You were one of the main reasons I asked you out, you know." We both blush at that.

"What were the other ones?"

"Mostly the increased possibility of sex if I could get you to agree to go out with me."

"You're so romantic," I say with a laugh.

"Don't kid yourself; we both know you're here for the sex too. I know how it is."

Whipping a cloth napkin at someone isn't very effective. They lack mass. Edward picks it up from the middle of the table and hands it back to me.

"That'll teach me."

"Next time I'll pick something heavier," I mutter.

"I look forward to that."

There's a pause. It's kind of a long pause, actually. I should say something. It only seems fair after I apparently freaked him out with my normal conversation. So I spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Do you think women really wore poodle skirts in the fifties?"

He seems startled, and more than a little baffled. "Is there reason to think otherwise?" he asks cautiously.

"I guess I just find it hard to imagine them being worn on a regular basis."

"Women used to wear corsets all the time," he says with a shrug.

"Yeah, but I find that more believable somehow, maybe because they're not called something like 'basset hound brassieres.'"

He smiles. "That would be harder to believe."

"Exactly."

00000

"What the hell just happened?" I'm practically shouting as we leave the movie theatre. I know I should probably lower my voice and take deep breaths, but I feel like a giant ball of rage has taken up residence in my chest.

"I really have no idea." Edward's amusement is not helping.

"It started out fine, not great, but fine. The mixed up laundry meeting was sort of cute. I mean, I don't really understand what she was doing with her bra that it ended up with his stuff, but it's still within the realm of possibility. And then the falling in love, and then the falling out, and moving which lead to the long distance I love you, I miss you stuff, and then all of a sudden they're walking across the ocean." People are staring at me. I am officially a raving lunatic.

"Well, it is called The Ocean Walker. If that's not foreshadowing, I don't know what is."

"But it's not even like they were swimming, which would be ridiculous enough, but walking. Even if you could walk across the ocean from LA to Japan, that's a long way."

"You seem to be very upset about this."

"Are they trying to say something? Is there some deep metaphorical message in that, or do they just think we're complete fucking idiots who aren't going to realize how completely fucking ridiculous that is? I think I might be offended. I think I might be deeply offended that they thought I would think that that makes sense."

"I don't know that feeding the anger is the best idea."

"They're the fucking idiots."

"It's just a movie, Bella," he says, pulling me against his chest.

"You're seriously not even a little annoyed about this? You paid to see that."

"It was totally worth the money. You're really cute when you rant," he says, leaning down to kiss me quickly. My rage ball deflates like a pathetic balloon.

"Did Emmett tell you to say that?" I ask accusingly.

"No, I'm improvising."

"You're very dangerous," I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him.

"That sounds promising."

I tap him on the side, before wrapping my arms around his middle. I stand there with my face pressed against his chest for a few moments, before I start to laugh.

"What?" Edward asks.

"They walked across the ocean. That's like the most ridiculous movie ending ever."

"Maybe they were trying to say that true love transcends the laws of nature. Or maybe they're both somehow related to Jesus."

"But then they'd be related to each other."

"That would be awkward. They'd walk all the way to the middle of the ocean and realize they're cousins. Maybe that's in the sequel," he says.

"Doesn't sound like a romantic comedy."

"It would mostly be them going to therapy and talking about how they're related… because of Jesus."

"Well, okay then."

"It probably wouldn't be very funny."

"I can't imagine it being very romantic either. People would probably expect the sequel to be the same genre as the first one."

"People would probably expect the end of the movie to make sense, but they don't seem too concerned with that."

"Fair enough."

"So… pie?" he asks, stepping back and taking my hand to lead me toward Roy's Diner.

"Pie sounds good," I reply, squeezing his hand in mine.