This is a verbatim transcript of my actual date with Chief Charlie Swan. Okay, not really. It's the first creative writing I have done since high school. Having gone on a few dates with different cops and being intrigued by the Ms. Meyer's wonderful character, as well as being twi-obsessed, I got to wondering what it would be like to go on a date with Chief Swan. He's more age appropriate for the 40's crowd and human, besides being dead sexy, at the height of his sexual prowess and I felt that Bella, viewing her dad through critical, teenage eyes, mistakenly perceives him as impossibly old and over-the-hill. This was supposed to be a a racy tale of how Charlie got laid while on a business trip, but he was too much of a gentleman to permit that. He was perfectly chivalrous and we are now engaged. Sorry, ladies! Ms. Meyer, many thanks! A++++++++!!

A Date With Charlie

Beguiling, shapely, petite, independent, single female really, really loves rainy days, reading and swimming. This is how I offhandedly filled out various recent online ads and profiles, along with some of my favorite quotes. I did end up meeting some great guys online, none of whom were a match. The novelty of chatting, e-mailing, and phoning soon wore off and became just another chore. Most of my close friends had married people they met online. I had other priorities. I'll date when someone I like in the real world asks me out, I thought. Problem was, I had never liked anyone who had asked me out since then. But, I stayed in touch with a few of my online buddies, who hung in there despite the decreasing number of my electronic responses. The day I got an e-mail from one guy from Washington State I was in an unusually receptive frame of mind. He was going to be in my area soon for a law enforcement convention, would I please accept an invitation to meet and have dinner? His note, like all his other communications was short and to the point, yet with a hint of dry humor. Charlie Something-or-the-other. We had chatted online off and on for a few weeks before exchanging e-mails and he had let on that he was a sheriff or state trooper, I couldn't remember, exactly. Your basic, salt-of-the-earth type. He was geographically challenging for me, living as I did in Southern California and I had never even considered that I might meet him. During one of our early chats he admitted that his daughter, Isabella, had bought him a laptop, set-up his profile and basically bullied him into chatting with others online.

SHE THINKS I NEED TO MEET MORE PEOPLE-He wrote.

She sounds like a take charge kind of kid.- I responded.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA- He answered.

Once, he had mentioned his hometown and another time that his department had a new website. I viewed his page and came away with a vague impression of him as your average, nondescript law-enforcement agent. Impulsively, I had sent him an e-mail with my phone number. Look me up if you're ever in town, I had written, sent, almost instantly regretted. Oh well, what are the chances? I had thought to myself and promptly forgot about it. A few months later I received his invitation. It was polite and direct like everything else he had ever written to me. He gave a cell-phone number. Musing over the safety of meeting someone for the first time, even in a public place, I had decided in his favor, had written him to accept, and was now navigating the short freeway distance from my nearby town to his hotel.

I was a little early, but he was already waiting for me in the lobby. I recognized him at once. He was more rugged and substantial in person than I had garnered from his photo. Taller. Handsomer. He had a full head of thick, dark hair, just receding at the temples and had that clean-cut, straight-arrow look that most off-duty cops have. Unexpectedly, I was delighted and impressed. And I wanted to delight and impress. He was better dressed than I had imagined he would be. His clothes looked expensive and understated.

"You don't dress like a cop," I teased him, after we greeted each other awkwardly.

"My daughter's friend, Alice, took me shopping when she heard I had a date," he admitted, "It was kind of embarrassing, but now I'm glad she did."

"How come you're glad?" I asked jokingly.

"Because you're the best thing I've seen in a long time," he answered slowly.

"That's pretty flattering, Officer," I responded, not usually caring for compliments, but warming to his almost palpable pleasure in meeting me.

"Actually it's Chief, Chief Swan," he corrected me, his expression serious, "But, please, call me Charlie."

"Oh, right," I suddenly remembered that detail from his web page. He was Chief of Police of his small town. "So, what's the plan, Chief?"

"I made a reservation at the Inn for dinner, but it's your town, so if you have a better idea..."he trailed off.

"No, that sounds good to me," I agreed, "As long as I'm not taking you too far away from your cop buddies."

"Nah, they're around here somewhere," he laughed. He offered me his arm for the short walk to the restaurant.

I had never eaten at the famous Inn before, but knew some of its history and mentioned it to Charlie after we were seated.

"The President stays here when he's in town. Pretty plush, huh?"

"It's a long way from Forks," he agreed, "I did eat here once a long time ago, with my wife when we were trying to reconcile. Ex-wife. She moved here for a while, near some relatives." He cleared his throat and changed the subject abruptly to ask me about my job.

After dinner, I suggested having drinks at a new cigar lounge nearby. Charlie was agreeable, only mentioning that he preferred beer to spirits and was not a smoker. He did not seem at all surprised when we were loudly greeted at the entrance of the lounge by some of his convention-going colleagues who were already seated at large booth. They insisted we sit with them. Upon being introduced to me, several kissed my hand with exaggerated courtesy, one winked. I hid a smile. Seated, I asked for a snifter of brandy and Charlie, uncharacteristically for him, or so he said, ordered a pricey malt whiskey.

"Very smooth," he said when I asked about his drink, "A little rich for my blood."

The rest of the evening was spent crammed closely against Charlie in the crowded booth, leaning back against his chest, while his buddies regaled us with cop stories and shop talk. The stories grew increasingly more gruesome as the men each tried to top the last graphic tale. Charlie said little but what he did was concise and authoritative. It was easy to see that his fellow officers held him in high regard. It seemed to me that Charlie's nose and chin were caressing my hair as I listened to one hair-raising case after another, unperturbed. Descriptions of violence and gore have never bothered me. I felt a large, warm hand close over mine under the table. When I turned to smile up at him, Charlie leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Sorry our date got taken over, but I think the guys like you."

"I don't mind at all," I whispered back. The warm hand squeezed mine.

When his friends moved to the humidor to pick out their cigars, I ordered a coffee.

"Well, Chief, was it a good time tonight?" I asked, looking up sideways at him. He hadn't moved from my side or released my hand.

"It will be if I know I can see you again," he replied, and added, "I would ask you up to my room to talk or whatever, but, one, I'm bunking with Frew and two, maybe that's moving a things a little too fast."

"Or 'Whatever', huh?" I said skeptically, but Charlie answered quietly.

"I know when I've found something good."

"My ex might not agree with you," I said, dryly.

"He must be an idiot," Charlie retorted, "I would bet my badge you're a one-man woman and that he cheated on you."

"That's pretty perceptive," I said after a moment's silence, "You're absolutely right." I changed the subject. "I would like to see you again too, but since you're leaving tomorrow morning and I have to go to work...I guess I'd better get going, Charlie."

"You okay to drive?" he asked quickly.

I nodded. I could tell that it would always be about the safety of the those he cared about for Charlie. His mere presence had a calming, almost stupefying effect, like no one I had ever met. It was mesmerizing and magnetic. His every word rang with integrity. The world felt like a safer place to me than before simply because I now knew he existed.

Walking to my car, I had a chance to ask about his ex-wife, who it turned out, he was on good terms with and heard about his recently wed daughter. I got the definite impression, that she had married well, into money, and that Charlie did not entirely approve of the match, for reasons he refused to go into, and that he felt almost insanely protective of her. I also asked about his dating history.

"I've had a few lady friends," he admitted, cryptically, "Nothing serious." I didn't press him for details. I could imagine the situation pretty well. This fiercely loyal man had married a silly, thoughtless girl he had adored and been abandoned by her, mourning her departure for years. Then I asked him about what had appealed to him about my online profile.

"Oh, I could tell that you were smart and kind. That you were responsible and had a good sense of humor,"he said, "Or maybe it was that you liked rainy days? It rains a lot where I come from. I printed out everything you ever wrote to me and held onto it. My secretary came across it one day and gave me a real hard time. I had a gut feeling that one day I would be asking you to come visit me in Washington and that you would say yes." I had a sudden flash of intuition.

"Did you do a background check on me, Charlie?" He looked surprised and abashed.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Just a hunch. Don't worry. I'm not mad. I think it's a good idea nowadays," I smiled, "Did you find any skeletons?"

"Not even a parking ticket." With that we arrived at my car. He took my other hand in his.

"Would you call me when you get home so I know you're safe?" he requested. I nodded, silent. "Can I, I mean, may I, kiss you good-night?" His coffee-colored eyes were scanning my face.

"Of course."

His brief kiss was warm, dry. We embraced, then he was in my rear-view mirror, waving as he walked up the steps to his hotel.

When I arrived home and called his cell, I could hear the shower running.

"Hi, Chief. Taking a cold shower?"

"Might have to do that since you didn't invite me over," he replied. I said nothing. "You still there?" he queried.

"Remember my profile? Old-fashioned?" I reminded him.

"I remember," he grumbled, "How old-fashioned would that be exactly?"

"That depends. Maybe next time get a room to yourself, Chief," I teased him.

"You can call me Charlie, ma'am and I wanted to tell you I had a great time tonight."

"Me too. Thanks for dinner, Charlie. Good-night to you and your bunk-mate." I laughed.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he promised and rang off.