Woohoo, I'm on a Twilight FanFiction roll! After writing the steamy second chapter of "Survival One oh One," I wanted to write a little one shot of another scene I thought shoulda gone differently!

The scene where he is fixing up her arm during her birthday. Total sexual tension. A little limey Carlisle and Bella goodness! (Nothing too intense)


No Small Shards

Carlisle gripped my bleeding arm, his cold fingers serving like an icepack to my wound. "Leave," he commanded the others, seeing the blood lust gleaning their eyes. The other Cullen's filed out, and Edward went after Jasper to calm him down.

"Come," Carlisle instructed softly, his grip softening as he pulled me up from the floor. He guided me up the stairs to his study.

His tone was apologetic as he began skillfully working on my injured arm. "It's not quite as easy for Jasper in comparison with the rest of us," he explained. "He hasn't been away from the taste of human blood for quite as long."

I smiled meekly, trying to keep my eyes shut as the rusty iron smell of my blood trickled to my senses and threatened to overwhelm me. It was ironic, I mused: my blood made others thirst for me, while it made me want to vomit.

"It's okay," I replied uneasily, wincing as he removed a particularly large shard.

"I'm sorry for your pain," Carlisle said gravely, and I felt like he was referring to more than just my wounded arm.

"It's okay," I repeated, my voice more assured. "How can you stand it? I mean, is my blood just not quite as tasty to you?" I tried pathetically to lighten the mood.

Carlisle humored my attempt with a chuckle. "Oh, you've got it all wrong, my dear," he replied gently. "Your blood smells absolutely mouthwatering. It's many, many years of practice that have given me this control over the urge."

I nodded in understanding; Carlisle got used to human blood, working with it all day long in the hospital. After all of the large shards were removed, he brought my arm closer to his face. "I need to make sure no tiny shards chipped off," he explained.

As the long metal tweezers swept a little too deeply, my arm jerked in pain. I looked in horror as my blood-coated arm pressed squarely against Carlisle's lips. No expression crossed his face as he gently pulled my arm away. His lips were pressed together in a tight-line, and his eyes were closed.

And then, his mouth opened.

A slow moan rolled from his throat as a drop of my blood trickled between his lips. I watched with a morbid fascination as his tongue licked a slow, cleansing line across his upper lip, and then repeated the same with his lower.

His eyes, which had been closed as though in a trance, suddenly opened languidly from his reverie. "Bella," he murmured softly, his lips darkened a shade red from my blood. "Oh, Bella."

His fingers wrapped tentatively around my wrist, pulling my wounded arm almost at eye-level just under his nose. He inhaled deeply, his eyes drifting shut again as he simply breathed in. "Sober I have been, for many hundreds of years," he murmured, his lips so close to my arm I could feel the exhaled breath of every word. "Not a single, solitary drop of blood...and now..." He pressed his lips to my arm, kissing my injured flesh. I winced at the sting of contact, frozen, not sure what I should do. His fingers grasped around my wrist slid upward, squeezing ever so lightly. Fresh blood pricked to the surface, and he placed feathery soft kisses to the crimson-moistened flesh. "Oh, Bella..." His tongue rolled slowly over the 'L' in my name, licking a slow line across my flesh.

"Bella, stop me," he whispered, his lips kissing harder into my wound.

"How?" I asked weakly, feeling powerless.

"Make me stop," he murmured again. "Unless you want this...this life." The last word caused another long taste from his tongue, and I suddenly understood... if I didn't stop his slowly unraveling control, he was going to bite me, and I was going to become a vampire.

I was suddenly panicked at this thought. Not here, not now; I wasn't ready, I realized with a pristine clarity. I wrenched my arm from his grasp, holding his chin with my palm, my fingers gripped around it with as much strength as I could muster. His face trembled in my grasp.

"Not enough," he whispered, his hand easily prying my fingers from his face. I watched as his lips pressed to my fingers, kissing the very tips. "Not enough yet, Bella," he murmured. His eyes drifted back open, an suddenly I understood. I took a trembling breath and leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. I felt his soft breath wash over my face, a sigh of relief as his lips melded to mine. I shuddered at the taste of my own blood on his lips, but he tipped my chin with the incline of his finger, pressing firmly against my mouth.

I felt dizzy and overwhelmed, these feelings intensified tenfold as his other hand entangled briefly in my hair. "So beautiful." He mumbled the words against my lips. I sat their on his desk with him standing between my legs, our lips touching together for what seemed like an endless moment. I pressed my tongue out hesitantly, cringing at the coppery taste of my blood, but I felt this was necessary. I licked his lips carefully, cleaning off the blood that stained and tempted him.

"Just one more taste," he whispered, "please." My eyes widened as his tongue was suddenly pressed against my own, kissing me strangely and deeply. He sucked my tongue into his mouth, savoring every drop of blood that remained. He moaned audibly, and the sound unquestionably stirred something in me I wasn't accustomed to.

He kissed me hard and soft and deep for another endless moment, and suddenly, I was watching the role of a professional doctor, lightening quick and surprisingly painless stitches sealing my wound for good. He made quick work of wiping any excess blood with a small swab, and wrapping the newly stitched flesh. He looked at me hesitantly. "There weren't any small shards," he said quietly.

I would have laughed if I wasn't in such a stupor.



Lol. That's totally how the scene shoulda gone. I'm just sayin'. =)

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