Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: I laughed at the number of reviews for the last chapter from people who've had similar experiences to Bella in church. Oh, you naughty ladies… *pointing fingers*… not that I've ever been distracted in church… or written fan fiction in my head during a sermon… *innocent look* Lol!

Thanks as always to my super-wonderful betas Aecarlso and Tiffanyanne3 for their help with this chapter… and of course to my gal pals on Twitter, who make me smile every day. Love you girls!

"This time like all times is a very good one if we but know what to do with it."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 12 – Of Scars and Sexual Frustration

Overall, living in 1918 wasn't bad. I mean, they had running water and electricity. The food was good… and of course, there was Edward.

But there were things I really missed about the future. Technology, for one: laptops and Google and cell phones and iPods and music and DVDs and TV. God. TV.

I had no clue what was happening on Lost.

Did they ever get off that damned island?

And as I said, the food was good… but sometimes I just craved a Big Mac… and fries… Oh how I missed crispy, hot, greasy fries… and Diet Coke.

Sigh.

But on that second Monday of April, 1918, there was something I missed more than TV and fries and all of that other stuff combined. Well, two things actually.

Tampons and Midol.

Yeah.

When I awoke Monday morning to that telltale cramping informing me I had about twenty-four hours until my monthly visitor made her appearance, I panicked a bit. I had no clue what women used for that particular task in this time… and I wasn't exactly sure how to find out.

I could have asked Maggie or Liza, but how weird would that have been? An eighteen-year-old woman who didn't know how to handle her period? There was really no way to ask without raising some unanswerable questions.

I poked around in the bathroom cabinets, hoping I might find something there, but no. Nothing. It really didn't surprise me. I'd imagine these days such things were pretty taboo, and you didn't leave your supplies lying around in public.

A trip to the drugstore was unproductive as well. I roamed up and down the aisles, my eyes at first trained for pink and flowered packaging before I quickly re-thought that strategy. I scanned the shelves again, reading each label on every plain brown box and bag, but there was not a feminine product in sight. I wondered if the more sensitive items were kept behind the counter under the pharmacist's protective watch and briefly pondered asking for assistance. The balding, paunchy man had his suspicious, beady eyes focused on me though, with what appeared to be a permanent scowl etched on his face.

What? Did he think I was casing the joint to steal a box of rolling papers or a jar of hair pomade? I looked away and quickly decided I'd try something else… what, I wasn't quite sure. I returned home to take my afternoon nap, hoping my dreams would bring me answers this time instead of just more questions.

No such luck. Several hours later, I dressed for work and picked at my dinner, PMS making me irritable enough that everyone pretty much left me alone.

Edward had track practice every day after school, but still managed to make it to the boarding house in time to walk me to work. He arrived at the door freshly showered, his hair still damp, wearing a checked shirt and casual trousers. It was the first time I'd seen him without a tie, and the effect of seeing just that little V exposed by his open shirt collar was more stimulating than I'd expected. My condition temporarily forgotten, I blushed when I realized I'd been staring at his throat, turning quickly to grab my purse.

He took my hand as we strolled down the sidewalk in silence. He could have driven, of course, but the walk allowed us to spend a little time together at least. Unfortunately, I was soon distracted by my predicament… and by my cramps.

"Are you all right?" Edward finally asked, concern on his face as he looked down at my arm clutched across my stomach.

I forced my hand to my side quickly. "Oh… ummm… I'm fine," I mumbled. "My… stomach just hurts a little bit."

"Maybe you should stay home from work," he suggested.

"No… no… I'll be fine, really," I said. "I'll take some aspirin when I get to the hospital."

"Aspirin? For a stomach ache?"

I bit my lip. "Well, I have a headache too," I explained. "Don't worry, Edward, it's nothing serious."

His look was skeptical, but he said nothing more, and I forced myself to ignore my discomfort and enjoy my time with Edward. Easter Sunday had been encouraging. His parents really did seem to like me – even his father, which surprised me – and the afternoon was a lot of fun once I got over my initial nervousness. He'd driven me home shortly after sunset, and I had high hopes of a repeat performance of that hot kiss from the day of Samantha's birthday party.

I was sorely disappointed, however.

Yep, another peck on the cheek. My inner seductress scowled at me in disapproval. I was really letting her down, apparently.

I realized that things would take time to develop between Edward and me. Ironically, given my situation, the problem was that I was running out of time. Every day, every hour, took me closer to the end of summer. I really had to get things moving if I had any hope of getting Edward to run away with me.

Geez. I sounded like a bad romance novel.

Edward, meanwhile, seemed to have reclaimed his gentlemanly ways. Hand-holding… cheek-brushing… chaste kissing… that was it. Not that I was complaining… well, not much anyway. It was all really wonderful. Edward made me feel special… treasured and respected. His touch made me tingle. His smile made me blush. Just being with him made my stomach turn somersaults. It was all the clichés about falling in love and it was amazing and… magical.

But I needed more. I needed to break his control and get at the horny teenager inside… and I was a little embarrassed to admit it wasn't only about saving him, at least not entirely.

I wanted him. I really wanted him.

I was actually a little shocked at the intensity of my desire for Edward. Sure, he had always sparked that in me – ever since the first time we kissed all those months ago after our afternoon in the meadow. But somehow this was different. It was almost as if the fact that I knew it was now possible - that we could really be together completely - triggered a level of lust in me I found almost impossible to control.

Which is why, as we neared the hospital, I found myself wondering if it would be possible for me to sneak him into the storage room and jump his delicious bones.

God, I was a slut.

"I still have a few minutes. Would you like to come in and look around?" I asked him, putting aside my storage room fantasies. Well, almost putting them aside.

Edward smiled. "I'd like that. Are you sure it's all right?" he asked, scratching at his throat.

Gah. Again with the throat. My mouth dried. Was it possible that PMS was making me even hornier?

I blinked, focusing on his words. "It's fine. I'll just show you around a little." I opened the door, pulling him inside. Nurse Patty was at the reception desk, so I introduced them.

"It's nice to meet you," Edward said, shaking Patty's hand. When he looked away, Patty raised her eyebrows at me and I knew there would be questions coming from her later on.

"Ummm…. I just thought I would give Edward a little tour, if that's okay," I told her.

"Of course," Patty replied, a knowing smile on her face. "Take your time."

I showed him through the various wards and examination rooms. Edward seemed really interested, asking questions and listening intently to my answers. It wasn't until we neared the stairs that I started to panic, realizing that the only place left to show him was Carlisle's office.

I spun around quickly. "So that's it, really." I grabbed his arm, planning to lead him back to the front door.

"Wait," he protested, his eyes flicking up the stairs. "What's up there?"

"Oh, not much," I said, waving a hand. "Just some offices. Nothing exciting."

Edward pulled his arm free, narrowing his eyes at me. "Is Dr. Cullen's office up there?" he asked. He always emphasized Carlisle's last name as a not-to-subtle reminder of the day I accidentally used it on him.

I tried to keep my shoulders from falling in defeat. "Yes," I said quietly.

"Isn't that where you work most of the time?"

I sighed. "Yes."

"Well then," he said with a smile, taking my hand and tugging me toward the stairs. "I'd like to see it."

Defeated, I led him up the stairs and toward Carlisle's office. When I saw the door was closed, I brightened a bit. "Oh, the door's closed," I told him with fake disappointment. "Dr. Cullen must not be here. I really don't feel comfortable going inside when he's – " The door opened quickly, cutting off my words.

"Bella, I thought I heard your voice," Carlisle said cheerfully, leaning against the door frame. I shot him a glare and his smile widened. "…and…it's Edward, isn't it?" he asked, cocking his head toward my companion.

Edward gritted his teeth. "Yes. How nice to see you again," he said, leaving no doubt that he felt the opposite.

I rolled my eyes and decided to get through this awkward situation as quickly as possible. "I was just giving Edward a tour of the hospital," I told Carlisle, although I had a sneaking suspicion he'd been eavesdropping on me again and knew exactly what I was doing. "He wanted to see your office and laboratory, since that's where I spend most of my time."

"Of course," Carlisle replied, as he stepped back from the doorway with a flourish of his hand. "Feel free to look around." He sat down behind his desk and opened a file, pretending to be engrossed in its contents.

We entered the office and I cleared my throat nervously. "So… ummm… this is the office… obviously," I faltered. "Those are the filing cabinets, where I… file… and… um…" I heard Carlisle chuckle and glared at him again, but he didn't look up.

"And this is the laboratory?" Edward asked, moving over to examine the microscope. He picked up a test tube and Carlisle stood quickly.

"Please be careful with that," he said firmly, taking the test tube and placing it carefully back in the holder. "These are sensitive samples," he explained.

"Samples of what?" Edward examined the test tubes closely, but didn't touch them again.

"Various things I need for my research," Carlisle replied. "That particular one is a blood sample from an influenza patient."

"Blood?" Edward repeated distastefully. "That's disgusting."

I giggled. The absurdity of the situation just hit me all of the sudden and I giggled out loud. Carlisle turned to me with a smirk on his face. Edward looked a little more confused.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Disgusting, perhaps," Carlisle said, turning back to Edward with a small smile still lingering on his lips. "But it's necessary for my research. They are the only samples of the particular strain of influenza I'm studying."

"What is it exactly you're trying to discover?" Edward asked. Amazed at the non-hostile nature of the conversation, I moved to join them at the laboratory table, standing on the other side of Edward as Carlisle explained.

"I'm trying to determine how it spreads. How to treat it. How to prevent it," he said. "Influenza, as I'm sure you're aware, can be deadly and quite infectious. If we can learn more about it, it might be possible to save many lives."

Excited that they were getting along, I jumped in. "Carlisle, why don't you show Edward some of the slides?" I suggested, reaching across Edward for the box. To my surprise, Carlisle gasped, and faster than I could see it, reached out to grab my wrist, pushing Edward back slightly as he pulled me closer and bent over my hand.

"What do you think you are doing?" Edward protested gruffly, but Carlisle ignored him.

"What is that?" he asked in a shocked voice, still focused on my hand. My hand with a very distinctive crescent-shaped scar, that to most people, would be nothing out of the ordinary – but to a vampire, would be anything but.

I closed my eyes as my stomach plummeted. I had no idea how to explain the scar that James had left the day he attacked me in the ballet studio. I had almost forgotten about it, and didn't even think to try and hide it from Carlisle's super-human gaze.

"I think you should let go of Bella… now," Edward said firmly, reaching out to pull my wrist from Carlisle's grasp.

Carlisle blinked dazed eyes for a moment, then released my hand like it burned him. "Of course," he said quietly, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

Edward looked down at my hand. "It's just a scar. You can barely even see it," he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the pale crescent. "That's odd, it kind of feels cold," he said, almost to himself. "It looks almost like a… bite?" His eyes met mine questioningly. I felt, rather than saw, Carlisle look up to examine my face as I quickly fabricated a lie.

"It was," I said, shrugging. "A boy in school bit me when I was little. It hurt like crazy and my parents were furious." I swallowed deeply, guilt churning in my stomach at the falsehood. "It's fine now, though. It doesn't hurt a bit. I usually forget it's even there."

Edward brushed his fingers over the scar once more before taking my hand in his. "It's hardly noticeable," he assured me, before turning critical eyes on Carlisle. "I don't know why anyone would even point it out," he said sharply.

Now it was Carlisle's turn to squirm. "Again, I apologize, Bella," he said contritely. "It just… caught the light from the lamp, otherwise I'm sure I wouldn't have noticed it at all."

Yeah. Right. I knew he wasn't going to let me off that easily. Once Edward was gone, the interrogation would begin.

Stupid vampires and their stupid superior senses.

"Bella, perhaps you should show Edward out," Carlisle suggested finally. "I received some new samples today, and I'd like to get to work."

"Oh, of course," I mumbled, pulling Edward from the office. I didn't miss the pointed look Carlisle gave me before I got out the door.

Crap.

"I can't believe he touched you like that," Edward fumed quietly as we walked down the stairs. "It was completely uncalled for and unprofessional."

"Edward, it was just a mistake, that's all," I said in a lame attempt to calm him.

"Bella, I'm telling you, that man has designs on you," he hissed.

"Designs?" I smirked.

"Don't laugh at this," he continued, "and don't make light of it. It's… shocking really. You're only eighteen and he's so… old."

I choked on a laugh. If he only knew.

"Dr. Cullen isn't that old," I said instead, as we neared the front door. "And I can't keep having this conversation with you, Edward." We walked through the door and I turned to face him. "There is nothing improper going on with Dr. Cullen, and there never will be," I said firmly. "All right?"

He looked away, his jaw clenched stubbornly, and ran his fingers through his hair.

"All right?" I repeated, placing my hand on his cheek and forcing him to look at me.

His lips lifted slightly on one side and he nodded. "All right," he agreed, leaning forward to kiss me gently on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow," he promised, before turning to walk down the street.

I sighed.

Yet another kiss on the cheek that did nothing to calm my ever-growing lust for Edward.

Carlisle was waiting in his office to pepper me with questions I didn't want to answer.

And on top of all of that, I still had no idea what to do about my period.

Fuck. My. Life.

x-x

My salvation – at least in part - came in a form that should have been blatantly obvious. Carlisle was called in to emergency surgery, putting off our sure to be uncomfortable conversation, and I was in his office filing when it hit me. The hospital had a maternity ward, for god's sake, so there had to be menstrual supplies that they used for patients. With a hopeful smile on my face I made my way to the storage room and scanned the shelves quickly. I was happier than I ever thought possible to find a box labeled "Sanitary Pads and Belts" on the bottom shelf. Releasing a sigh of relief I opened the box and scanned the contents.

Of course, I couldn't just take some, so I set out to find Nurse Patty on the ward floor. Pulling her into the hallway, I quietly explained my predicament, telling her I'd been taken by surprise and unprepared.

She smiled comfortingly. "Oh, just take what you need, Bella. All the ladies do it," she confided. "It's much easier, and as long as you tell me what you take so I can keep track of the inventory and deduct the cost from your pay, the hospital allows it."

Relieved, I took a week's supply from the box, then went into the ladies' room to figure out how to put one on. I examined the elastic belt doubtfully, then slipped it around my waist. A safety pin dangled from a string in the front and back of the belt and I determined that was how you attached the pad. Of course, pinning the one in back was a little more difficult. Sighing, I took the stupid belt off again, pinned the pad in place and put it back on, looking down in disgust.

Great. I looked like a freakin' Sumo wrestler.

I wondered how rich I could get if I invented the tampon. I sighed, realizing quickly it was probably not the noblest use of my future-knowledge. Although I was sure women around the world would disagree. Just saying.

Oh! Then I could invent Ibuprofen. And blow dryers. And Spanx.

Sighing, I got dressed, putting aside my dreams of wealth and modern conveniences and heading out of the bathroom and back to Carlisle's office.

Unfortunately, I knew there was no avoiding Carlisle forever. I finally gave in to the inevitable and waited for him in his office while I worked diligently, organizing files and straightening the laboratory.

Okay, I worked semi-diligently.

Okay, I pretended to work and bit my fingernails, worried about what I would say to him.

Basically, I had three choices. I could lie - tell him I was attacked in my sleep or something and couldn't remember a thing. Unfortunately, I was a terrible liar, and Carlisle, as insightful as he was, was bound to see right through me. I could tell him the truth, but I didn't see a way to do that without telling him about Edward. I couldn't… or rather wouldn't… do that.

The reason was simple. I could say it was out of some selfless desire to protect Carlisle from too much knowledge about the future… knowledge that could inadvertently change his path and potentially ruin his life. I didn't know how, but I knew it was possible.

Butterfly effect, remember? Even making changes that didn't seem like a big deal could have disastrous effects on the future. It was true that I did want to protect Carlisle from that.

But there was an even bigger reason for hiding my Edward plan from Carlisle.

He could stop me.

I was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn't. I was ninety-nine percent sure that Carlisle would understand my situation and the rationalizations for my plan to save Edward. I was ninety-nine percent certain that he would see my actions as saving a life, so he would have to support it.

But there was that one percent.

That one percent whispered in my ear that Carlisle would want Edward for himself… that Edward belonged with him and the rest of the Cullens… and that I was playing God by trying to change history… change destiny.

I knew that if Carlisle decided to take Edward from me, he would succeed. I wouldn't be able to stop him.

So even though I wanted to tell Carlisle everything and I knew in my heart he would most likely help me, I gave in to that one percent.

I just couldn't risk it.

That left me with my one final option – to tell him the truth, but as little of it as possible… and hope that would be enough.

When Carlisle returned, he said nothing at first. He didn't even look at me. He just walked around the far side of his desk and sat in his chair, leaning forward onto his elbows and resting his chin on his tented hands.

I sat down across from him, quietly waiting for the questioning to begin, but it didn't.

"Carlisle…" I began.

He started, as if just realizing I was in the room, then sighed heavily.

"Bella, I've been trying to make sense of this, but I just can't," he murmured quietly, his eyes falling to my scar. I quickly covered it with my other hand, shifting uncomfortably.

"I don't know what to tell you," I admitted slowly.

"I know what that is," Carlisle said, his gaze still focused on my hands. "What I don't understand is how it happened… and how you… survived." He looked up at me, a frown of confusion on his face.

I looked away. "I've heard that when a person is bitten by a rattlesnake, you can suck the poison out." I felt his eyes on me, but didn't face him. "If you're quick enough you can save their life that way, right?" I spoke as if I was just sharing an interesting fact, something I'd read in the newspaper or heard from a friend. Eventually, I turned to meet his steady gaze.

"Yes," he said finally.

I said nothing else. I just shrugged and looked down, running my fingers over my scar.

"Who did it?" he asked. I didn't know if he was asking who had bitten me, or who had saved me, but it didn't matter. Either answer would lead back to Edward, so I said the only thing I could.

"I can't tell you, Carlisle." Frustrated, he wiped his hands down his face tiredly as I continued. "I really wish I could answer all of your questions, but I just… can't. I'm asking you not to ask. I'm asking you to trust me… and I'm asking you not to ask."

Maybe it was because Carlisle knew all about secrets… about hiding who and what you were… about the difference between admitting you couldn't tell the truth and deciding to tell a lie… but as his amber eyes locked on mine, I saw the moment when he decided to trust me.

He just nodded, a small smile lifting his lips.

And he didn't ask.

x-x

Over the next few days, Carlisle and I fell back into our easy camaraderie, the tension seemingly forgotten. I did catch him staring at my hand once with a perplexed and worried look on his face, but when he noticed me watching him, he just smiled and turned back to his work. We talked a lot about the upcoming suffrage march, and Carlisle was surprisingly knowledgeable on the subject.

Well, maybe it wasn't that surprising after all. Carlisle was pretty knowledgeable about most things. Guess that was what came from being two hundred years old and never having to sleep.

"Several states have approved suffrage legislation, at least to a certain extent," he told me. "Illinois was one of the first. However, there is still a long way to go before women have true equal representation at the polls. A constitutional amendment is the only thing that will assure that nationwide."

"It will happen," I said confidently.

Carlisle shrugged. "Perhaps, but I think it will take some time. President Wilson has announced his support and the House approved the amendment in January, but the Senate won't even debate the issue until October… and with the election coming up… there's no way of predicting what will happen."

"That's why Eleanor said the march is so important," I replied. "A lot of suffrage groups have been backing down a bit because of the war, but this time is critical. We can't let the pressure off our senators if the amendment is going to be approved."

It was nice to be able to discuss those issues with Carlisle, because Edward was less than enthusiastic about the whole suffrage issue. He had come around a bit, finally agreeing that all women should be allowed to vote. However, he did not believe an amendment was necessary or prudent. And he was still very concerned about my trip to Springfield.

"If things start to get violent, I want you to promise me you'll get as far away as possible," Edward urged me as he walked me to work on Wednesday evening. I fought the desire to roll my eyes and tried to reassure him instead.

"I promise," I said solemnly. "I will be careful."

He laughed sardonically. "That's what you say now, but I've seen that temper of yours. You'll be the first one to jump into the midst of the fray."

I giggled. "I swear, Edward. No fraying."

His lips quirked and I nudged him with my elbow. He smiled as we neared the hospital entrance and turned to me.

"No fraying." He grinned, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. Again.

I sighed as he ran his fingers down my cheek. "I just worry about you," he murmured.

"I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed my forehead this time. "Have a good night."

I walked through the door and closed my eyes as I leaned back against the wall, my head thumping on it lightly.

"Bella? Are you all right?" I opened my eyes to see Nurse Patty watching me from the reception desk.

Sure. Just sexually frustrated and needing a big dose of Edward-loving.

"I'm fine." I sighed again, heading up the stairs to Carlisle's office to get to work.

x-x

I answered the door Thursday evening to find a harried-looking Edward on the other side. His shirt was untucked and the buttons misaligned, his hair standing wildly on end and his forehead damp with perspiration. Actually, as I took in his appearance, I noticed he was hot and sweaty… all over.

God. Was he trying to kill me?

"Is everything all right?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly because of my dry mouth.

Edward nodded, slightly out of breath, and ran his fingers through his damp hair.

"Practice went later than usual," he explained. "Our coach wanted to make sure we're ready for the meet this weekend. I'm sorry. I didn't even have time to shower, but I didn't want to miss seeing you before you left."

His collar was twisted, tucked in on one side, and I reached up to straighten it without thinking. My fingers tingled, touching the moist skin on his neck.

When did I develop a sweat fetish?

"I'm glad you made it," I said, trying to focus on his eyes, rather than his body. I added softly, "I'm going to miss you this weekend."

He reddened, but a grin spread across his face. "I'm going to miss you too."

I gathered my things and we started down the front steps. I noticed a clicking sound coming from Edward's feet.

He shrugged. "I didn't have time to change out of my running spikes," he said sheepishly. "I just threw on my clothes as fast as I could."

I giggled as we clicked down the sidewalk, but the laughter died in my throat when Edward stretched languidly and his shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of muscled abdomen.

Sweaty… muscled… Edward abdomen.

God in heaven.

"I'd like to see one of your meets sometime," I said, my eyes still on his stomach, even though he had lowered his arms and it was now covered.

"Really?" He smiled, obviously pleased at this idea.

Sweaty Edward? Running? In shorts? Yes, please!

"…maybe next weekend." He had said something, but I completely missed it.

"What?" I asked, distracted.

"I have a home meet, next weekend," he repeated. "Maybe you can come to that one."

"Oh, yeah… that would be great," I agreed, still feeling warm and kind of tingly at the thought of Edward in shorts.

He seemed oblivious to his effect on me however, because he continued talking, telling me about his upcoming meet in Elgin.

"Art DeMert broke his arm, so he'll be unable to compete this weekend," he said. "He's our best at high jump and pole vault, so I may end up in those events as well as my usual ones."

Great. Now I had this picture in my mind of Edward, running – in slow motion, of course – a long pole bouncing in his hands. He placed the end of the pole, launching him up and over the bar. Muscles rippled as he threw his legs up, landing on his back on the thick pad on the other side. Suddenly, I was on top of him as we sank into the pad's pillowy softness. I ran my hand up under his sweaty tank top, licking the cords of his neck…

"Bella?" Edward interrupted my musings. "Are you all right? You look a little flushed."

Yeah. Seriously flushed. My skin flamed and my thighs were still tense from the vivid images. I couldn't take it any more. Edward had me so wound up that just about anything set me to fantasizing, as horny as a teenage boy.

A teenage boy like him, who seemed to be just fine with our rather innocent level of interaction.

What was up with that, anyway?

The boy was the one who was supposed to be always trying to get into the girl's pants. They were the ones who were supposed to be horny, sex-crazed maniacs.

So why was I the only one who seemed to be suffering here?

"I'm fine," I said quietly, glancing sideways at Edward. He whistled lightly through his teeth, his hands in his pockets. Totally relaxed and at ease.

And all I could think about was sticking my tongue down his throat.

Seriously. It was all that I thought about… and it was starting to tick me off.

My inner seductress was tapping her foot and pointing to her watch. Okay, it was time to make a move.

"Edward," I said, stopping about a block from the hospital to face him. "Why won't you touch me?"

I looked up to meet his wide eyes. He looked around uncomfortably. "What do you mean? I touch you all the time."

That's right. Play innocent. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

"You hold my hand. You kiss me on the cheek," I clarified, adding quickly, "not that there's anything wrong with that. It's really nice." I took a step closer to him, lifting a hand to trail my fingers down his chest. Edward froze, his eyes darkening perceptibly before he blinked twice and grabbed my wrist.

"Bella, what are you doing? We're in the middle of the street," he reprimanded me in a hushed tone.

I tore my hand from his and stalked away a few steps before turning and walking back to him. Edward was flushed and slouched, his hands jammed in his pockets again. He wouldn't meet my eyes, so I waited patiently until he finally looked up to me.

"Edward," I said abruptly. "I just don't get it. After Samantha's party…"

"That was a mistake," he interrupted, his eyes falling as his face reddened further. "I told you I was sorry about that," he muttered.

"And I told you," I began, throwing my hands in the air, "that there was nothing to be sorry for."

Edward scanned the street quickly, then grabbed my arm and pulled me into a shadowed doorway. "Do we really have to discuss this now?" he asked.

"I think this is the perfect time to discuss it," I said irritably. "Don't you want to kiss me?"

Edward ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Bella…"

"It's a simple question, Edward. Do you or do you not want to kiss me?"

"Of course I want to kiss you!" He hissed loudly, looming over me. "But what happened the other day. It wasn't right. I took advantage of you and it wasn't right." He looked imploringly into my eyes. "I'm trying to treat you properly. I'm trying to be respectful."

Okay. It was now or never. I grabbed hold of my guts and lifted a hand to the back of his neck, stroking his damp hair gently.

"Maybe I don't want to be so respected," I murmured, licking my lips and leaning toward him.

"Bella," Edward said in quiet warning, but he didn't pull away. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

"It's a great idea," I whispered before pressing my lips gently to his. I pulled back slightly, but he lifted his hands tentatively to my waist and lowered his head to kiss me again. His thumbs circled softly on my hips and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he brushed my lips tentatively.

And all the pent up sweaty-fantasy induced sexual frustration I had been dealing with for the past week kicked in, and I lost it entirely. I locked my fingers into his hair, pulling his head toward me as I pushed him back against the wall, practically climbing on top of him.

It took a moment for me to realize he had frozen in shock. He reached up to pull my hands from around his neck and gently pressed them to my sides as I breathed heavily. Of course, once my brain caught up, I was mortified.

I stepped back against the wall on the other side of the doorway. "I'm so sorry," I muttered, blushing hotly. "I don't know what came over me… I should go."

But as I turned to leave, Edward grabbed my hand and tugged me toward him. "Bella," he said quietly, but I wouldn't look at him. I was too embarrassed. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Bella," he repeated and I finally met his soft gaze. "It's not that I don't… want… that," he explained, his cheeks pinkening slightly. "It's just that I don't want to treat you disrespectfully and…" he broke off, looking away and rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

"And…?" I prompted.

His gaze met mine briefly before dropping to his feet. "And," he continued, scraping his spikes on the sidewalk. "If I'm not careful with you… very careful… I'm afraid I'll lose… control." His eyes flicked up briefly and he shrugged. "I just… like you a lot, Bella. More than you realize… and I don't want to ruin everything."

God, he was so sweet. I forgot sometimes that he was only sixteen… and just as confused and insecure as I was.

"Edward, you're not going to ruin anything," I assured him, lacing my fingers with his. "I like you a lot, too… more than you realize," I added, looking down at our joined hands.

Edward reached up to stroke my cheek, lifting my face to his tentatively. He leaned in, hovering over my lips for a moment, his warm breath wafting over me. Finally, he kissed me softly. "You should probably get to work," he said before kissing me one more time.

I nodded, breathless and dazed. "Okay… yeah… I probably should," I stammered, stumbling slightly as I moved out of the doorway.

"Are you all right?" Edward chuckled.

I looked back at him, my eyes narrowed. "I'm fine."

He smiled as he fell into step next to me. "Where will you be staying in Springfield?" he asked.

"Ummm…" I searched my memory for the name Eleanor gave me. "The Leland Hotel," I told him. "Eleanor has a suite there." His jaw tightened at the mention of Eleanor, but he didn't say anything further.

"Well," he said hesitantly as I turned to say goodbye. "I was thinking that maybe I could… come for you at the train station on Sunday?"

I smiled at him. "That would be really nice," I replied, and his sparkling eyes crinkled with his responding grin. "But I don't know when we're getting back," I added. "I'll have to find out from Eleanor."

He scratched behind his ear absently, drawing my attention to the sharp line of his jaw and the light scruff darkening it. I really was out of control.

"Perhaps I could… telephone you… at the hotel?" he suggested with a nervous lift of his shoulder. "I could call Saturday evening after the march. You could let me know then."

I straightened his collar again. "That sounds perfect," I said. "I'll talk to you Saturday."

"All right." His eyes flitted to my parted lips and he leaned in slightly, brushing his thumb over my cheek. At that moment, a young family burst out of the hospital door, two boys running out and pushing each other as their mother reached out to grab their arms. Edward straightened immediately, his hand falling back to his side. Then, he caught sight of something inside the hospital before the door closed and his eyes darkened. He leaned down and kissed me swiftly on the lips, catching the door to hold it open for me.

"Good night," he said with what I thought was determination coloring his tone, before his gaze quickly shot up over my shoulder again. "I'll talk to you Saturday."

He turned to leave and, confused, I leaned for a moment against the open door before I remembered to call out, "Good luck at your meet!" He spun around with a grin, waving as he walked backwards a few steps, his feet clicking loudly. I chuckled and turned to walk into the hospital, surprised to see Carlisle watching me from the reception desk.

He quickly became absorbed with a file in his hands, and I realized what had led to Edward's rather possessive kiss. I couldn't decide if I should feel annoyed at that little display or encouraged.

"Good evening, Bella," Carlisle said, not looking up from his file. Nurse Patty was at the desk as well, so I didn't feel I could call Carlisle out for eavesdropping again, even though I was sure he had been.

"Hello, Dr. Cullen… Patty," I replied instead. "How is everything tonight?"

"Quiet," Patty answered. "Which means you'll have plenty of time to tell me about that young man of yours." She grinned, walking over to lean against the desk toward me. "He is very handsome, isn't he?"

Carlisle cleared his throat. "I hardly think that is a conversation for the waiting room, ladies," he chided, still focused on the file as he turned a page.

Patty and I both glanced around the empty waiting room and exchanged confused shrugs.

"Okay," I said, rolling my eyes at Patty, who only smiled sympathetically. "I guess I'll get to work."

"We'll talk later," Patty said conspiratorially and Carlisle snapped his folder shut, making her jump.

"We'll be in my office," he told her shortly, before turning to walk with me through the ward and toward the stairs.

"Carlisle, is there anything wrong?" I asked hesitantly.

"Wrong?" he repeated, his eyes forward. "No, of course not. Why would anything be wrong?"

"I couldn't imagine," I said sarcastically. "Obviously, I'm way off base."

"Off base?" He turned to me curiously as we topped the stairs.

"You know… like in baseball?" I explained, annoyed that he was getting me off the topic. "Off the mark… mistaken…"

The only reply I got was an "Ah" as we walked down the hall and into his office. He walked around to his desk, slapping the file on the surface, then turning to stalk to his laboratory table. He shuffled some containers around before returning to his desk.

Yeah. Nothing's wrong. Right.

"Carlisle?" I interrupted his silent ranting. "Are you going to tell me what's the matter, or are you just going to stomp around the room all night?"

He sighed, sitting in his chair. "I'm trying to determine how to say what I have to say without insulting you, or upsetting you," he said finally.

I sat down across from him. "Just say it."

He leaned forward, his arms on his desk. "I'm… concerned about you… and Edward," he said, not meeting my eyes.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "What are you concerned about?" I asked defensively.

Carlisle became very interested in a speck of dirt on the desk blotter. "I just want to make sure that he's treating you appropriately… respectfully," he said. "I couldn't help but notice his rather aggressive advances."

"You mean you saw him kiss me."

"Yes."

Part of me wanted to tell Carlisle to mind his own damned business, to quit spying on me and butt out - but I knew he was just looking out for me. Both Edward and his father had made it painfully clear that in this time a woman's reputation was to be guarded carefully. Evidently, that was one thing that he and Carlisle agreed on.

I purposely uncrossed my arms, resting my elbow on the chair arm and leaning my head on my fist. "I appreciate your concern, Carlisle, but there's nothing to worry about. Edward has been a perfect gentleman."

"That's not what it looked like to me," he disagreed, a frown on his face. Then, he looked away abruptly. "You need to be careful, Bella. If you tempt a boy like Edward, there's no telling what kind of unseemly things could happen."

I knew he'd been listening. I was furious at first… but it quickly turned to humiliation when I realized he'd heard me throwing myself at Edward. I could feel my cheeks redden as I replied shortly, "Nothing unseemly is going on, Carlisle. And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from listening in on my private conversations."

To his credit, Carlisle appeared embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Bella. I just don't… trust that boy," he said.

"Well you can trust me," I countered. "I know what I'm doing."

At least I hoped I knew what I was doing. My doubt must have shown on my face, because Carlisle eyed me carefully.

"Bella," he said slowly. "You may think you have everything under control. But if there's one thing I know, it's teenage boys… and believe me, most of them are only after one thing."

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes because I was worried he'd see the truth in them.

The fact that I was hoping he was right.

A/N: I just have to say how exciting it is for me to get reviews where you're guessing and speculating and theorizing as to what's going on in this story… although I can't answer your specific questions (and you wouldn't want me to) it does make me smile. If you'd like to chat about the story, there's a thread on Twilighted (link on my profile)… come and share your thoughts!

You can also follow me on Twitter (Tkegl) if you'd like…

And as always, on Monday check out the Fictionators blog (www(dot)fictionators(dot)com) for a preview of Chapter 13!