Title: Hear No Evil
Summary: Charlie arrives home from a tough shift at work to be greeted by strange noises in his living room. AH, ExB
Word Count: 497
With a pack of PBR in one hand, and a bag of fish-fry in the other, I was ready for a quiet night in front of the tube. It had been a rather hectic day at work – yes, even in Forks – and I couldn't wait to take my gun belt off and put my feet up.
As I approached the lounge I could hear raised voices. With my hand paused on the door knob, I stood stock still and listened through the wood. It sounded like an argument.
"How do you like it?" my son-in-law asked.
"I don't care, Edward!" Bella snapped. "Let's just get it out of the way before I lose interest, or divorce you!" Her tone was harsh and biting as the tirade continued.
Wow, she sounds just like her mother.
"We've been at it for hours. I'm sweating in places I didn't know had sweat glands, my thighs are chafed, my hair is sticking to me, and I'm pretty sure the friction burns on my knees are approaching third degree…"
"I'm so sorry, Love, but I want it to be perfect," Edward replied in a strained voice. "We can't have your father walking in on us halfway through."
"Well if you don't get it up already, I can guarantee he'll get home before we've finished."
"Long screw, or short screw?"
"Whatever you think; personally I'd just go with a good nail."
Definitely not arguing… abort, Charlie, ABORT!
"I don't think it'll fit. The hole's too small," Bella moaned with an exaggerated sigh.
"Of course it will. Just back up a bit slowly. No sudden movements or we'll cause damage," Edward replied in an authoritative tone.
Back up onto what slowly? Holy Jesus! Not my daughter. What the hell were they teaching her in Arizona?
"Edward! Quit leaning on me, it hurts! You're pushing in at the wrong angle and it'll get stuck!"
That's it! I'm getting my gun. My hand reflexively went to my gun holster, quietly unsnapping it.
"It won't, I waxed it earlier to lessen the friction..." Edward groaned again as I thought I heard the sound of bare feet squeaking against my new wooden flooring. "It's just a tight fit."
"No shit, Sherlock!"
"If you'd relax it would go in much smoother..." More grunts and squeaking. "God-damnit! Put your backside into it!"
What the hell was he doing to my little girl? I had to stop it, I'd busted in on situations worse than this.
"Edward, stop, you're hurting me!" A loud thump made the porch shake and the doorjamb rattle.
That's it! Nobody hurts my little girl and gets away with it. Clothes or no clothes, this was going to stop. Now.
Busting in the door, gun drawn, I was greeted by a very red-faced Bella and Edward; fully clothed, sweaty, and what looked like a construction site gone wrong.
"Surprise," Bella announced with little enthusiasm, pointing to the brand new TV cabinet now standing proudly in the corner.