I was aiming for a oneshot with this one, but I figured I'd upload what I have now. It remains to be seen whether I write a second chapter—I would like to, but it may be a little unnecessary. Bah, who knows. If I update, I update. Otherwise, this stands on its own as a story, so feel free to read and speculate on those things which are not specifically detailed.
In any case, it's short.
This doesn't take place at any particular point in the series. I guess it would be during some of the Jacob/Edward drama in Eclipse.
Bella charged into the hallway, slamming Edward's door behind her. "I'm going to see my friend," she yelled back at him, "and if I find out you followed me again, I'm going to find a way to break your knees, and I mean it."
She flew down the staircase. In the front room, Carlisle was on his feet. "Where are you going, Bella?"
"None of your business, is it?"
"Whoa, whoa." He reached out an arm and caught her around the waist, but she recoiled.
"Let go of me!" The words were a feral growl, and Carlisle was so startled that he released her immediately.
"Bella—can we talk? You're angry, you shouldn't drive—"
"You know, I am just sick of you people trying to tell me what to do all the time!" said Bella. "I'm going to La Push, and I'm going right now, and I don't have to talk to you or Edward or anyone else in this damn house before I do it!"
Carlisle blinked. "Of course… of course you don't," he said.
"Damn right." Bella spun on her heel—right into Edward, who had materialized from out of nowhere. He put both his hands on her shoulders. She wrenched away and glared. "Edward, I'm going to see Jacob."
Edward hissed. "No, you're not," he said.
"Unfortunately, you have very little say in the matter."
"Like hell I—"
Carlisle put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Hold it, Edward," he said. "I think Bella may have a point."
Edward turned an incredulous look on him. "You're not serious."
Carlisle shrugged.
"You're just going to let her run off to that… that dog, as if it's nothing? Do you have any idea what could happen to her?"
"I'm not going to let her do anything," said Carlisle. "If she wants to see her friend, she's more than allowed to."
"She doesn't understand—!"
"Please stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here," said Bella. The two turned to look at her. "Edward, Jacob is my friend. He has every right to spend time with me."
"He's dangerous, Bella," said Edward. His words were curt, and Bella was irritated by the anger humming beneath the surface. "They all are. I don't want to see you get hurt."
"He would never do a thing to hurt me."
"Maybe not on purpose, but, Bella—"
"I've known him all my life," said Bella. "Much longer than I've known you. I trust him." She looked him in the eye. "That should be enough."
"It isn't enough!" Edward was stung, and his pride flared up around him like a defensive flame. "He could rip you to shreds!"
"So could you." She moved to step around him, but Edward, of course, was faster.
"You're not going." He grabbed her arm and tugged her back. A fraction of a second later, Carlisle's hand was around Edward's wrist.
"Let go, Edward."
The three of them were frozen in place, Carlisle holding Edward holding Bella.
Bella watched both of them warily. Edward dug his fingers into her arm. They were ice-cold, and she felt her circulation start to wane. She winced.
"Edward, let her go."
Edward matched his father's stony gaze. It seemed to take all his willpower, but Edward slowly relaxed his fingers. Bella shook her arm to get the blood flowing.
Carlisle was still holding Edward's wrist, in case he made another lunge. With a surge of anger, Edward yanked his hand free and bolted upstairs.
Carlisle started to call after him. "Edw—!"
They heard a door slam upstairs. There was a brief silence. Then, without another word, Bella turned and marched straight out the door. Carlisle watched her go, looking dazed, as if he wasn't quite sure what had just happened.
Bella spent the rest of the afternoon in La Push, although her mind was on Edward. Jacob made several attempts to hold a conversation with her, but all she seemed to want to do was sit and brood. He finally suggested, if she wasn't feeling well, she might want to go home, and Bella agreed.
She pulled into her own driveway just before six o'clock. Charlie was still at the station. She was starting on dinner for one when the phone rang. She held the receiver under her chin as she rubbed a chicken breast with lemon.
"Hello?"
"Bella, it's me."
Carlisle. Bella bit her lip. "Hi."
"Do you have a minute?"
"Not really."
"I just want to talk to you."
"Don't you folks usually just show up when you want to 'talk?'" said Bella. She was now hacking the chicken into cubes with a little more force than was entirely necessary.
"I thought I would do you the formality of calling, first."
Bella sighed. "I take that to mean you plan on coming, whether I want you to or not?"
"No," said Carlisle, and Bella cocked her head. "You have more than a right to your own privacy. We don't have to talk if you don't want to."
Her hands were coated with chicken goop, so she used her wrist to push the hair out of her face and leaned her elbows on the counter. "Oh," she said. "No, it's okay. I'm just making dinner. You can come over, if you want. There's enough for two."
"Well, I'll have to politely decline the dinner invitation."
"Oh—right, sorry. Well, you can come over, anyway."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Only—"
"Yes?"
"Um, please don't bring Edward," she said softly, lest he might overhear. She felt a twinge of guilt. "I'm not quite ready to deal with him, yet."
"Don't worry," said Carlisle. "I didn't plan to. This will be between just you and me."
"Okay… thanks."
"See you soon."
Barely two minutes had passed before the doorbell rang. Bella rinsed her hands and went to greet him.
"Come on in," she said as he stepped onto the foyer. "And—look, before you start, I'm sorry for snapping at you, earlier. You're my friend, too, after all."
Carlisle smiled, and he visibly relaxed. "It is quite a relief to hear you say that, Bella."
She finished chopping vegetables—which took no time with Carlisle's help—and they sat down ten minutes later at the small kitchen table.
"So," said Bella, lifting her fork. "You wanted to talk."
"Yes." Carlisle steepled his fingers before his face. "After you left, I had a little talk with Edward." He took a deep breath. "He is pretty upset."
Bella's heart plunged straight into her stomach. "I figured," she mumbled.
"I wanted to tell you that I've given it some thought, and I think I understand why you were so angry," said Carlisle. "Edward has always been very protective of you, and since you've rekindled your friendship with Jacob Black, I believe the measures he is willing to take to keep you safe have intensified. I just want to make sure you understand where he's coming from."
Bella nodded. It was a reasonable request—and she was still feeling the hint of guilt for her earlier behavior.
"As I am sure you are aware by now, Edward is an extremely proud person," said Carlisle. "He is in a significant minority of sentient beings that have been around for more than a century, and as such, he knows a great deal more than your average human. Perhaps this entitles him to certain bragging rights—he's spent more years in school than I think any human alive."
Bella chewed her food.
"His educational endeavors aside, however, being a hundred years old does not mean he knows everything. He does tend to forget this, from time to time. Especially when it comes to—well—socializing, for lack of a better word, he's always been a bit behind on the times.
"Things were very different when Edward was growing up. I mean, growing up the first time. Relationships were different. Women were different."
Bella was starting to understand, and she wasn't sure she liked where this was going.
"In the nineteen-hundreds, Edward's behavior toward you would have been considered totally acceptable. I don't think he's paid as much attention as the rest of the world to things like the women's rights movements. When women officially gained the vote, he was a newborn vampire, after all. Women had been voting prior to that, of course, but he missed a lot of the hype surrounding the official laws, and the fallout thereof, and what have you.
"By the time feminism was really in full swing," he went on, "Edward was for all intents and purposes a seventy-year-old man. He had the ideologies of the early nineteen-hundreds, and by that point, he was unlikely to be swayed in his opinions."
Bella narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me he fought against Women's Liberation."
Carlisle paused. "He stayed out of it, for the most part," he said. "We have always tried to distance ourselves from politics. We live in the human's world, and we have no right to meddle in it." He was being deliberately vague, the significance of which was not lost on Bella.
She pursed her lips. "And I'm just supposed to accept that he can't maneuver a modern relationship and move on?" she said. "I don't think I can do that, Carlisle."
"No, no," said Carlisle, waving his hand. "You misunderstand my point. None of this means that Edward can't be brought into the twenty-first century. You are his first relationship—at least, the first in a long time—and the only way he knows how to act is based on his earliest upbringing. I believe it's safe to say that his methods are outdated—I just don't think he fully understands how that might be problematic. I have spoken with him, but I think it would be best if you were to plead your case for yourself." Carlisle looked at her carefully. "Do you think you can do that, Bella?"
Bella sighed. She poked at the last of the vegetables on her plate. "I can try," she said.
"I think he will take it better coming from you," said Carlisle. He had an odd look on his face, and Bella wondered exactly what their "little talk" had entailed.
"I'll come over tomorrow," she said. "If that's alright."
"Of course," said Carlisle. He got to his feet. "Thank you for talking with me. There is one last thing I would like to do, and that is to apologize. For Edward, and for myself. If Edward is 'behind on the times,' I'm ancient history." He laughed at himself, and Bella smiled, too. "It wasn't until today that I saw the surfacing problem, and so I apologize for not acting sooner."
"Thanks," said Bella. "I do appreciate it, Carlisle. It didn't even bother me so much before, it's just—it's gotten so much worse, after I started hanging out with Jacob again, and I talked to my mom the other day, and she was worried Edward and I were spending too much time together, and it just got me thinking… I know he cares about me, and I know he's only trying to protect me. But I don't need that much protection. I don't want it. You know?"
"Of course," said Carlisle. "And you're absolutely right. We'll see if you can talk some sense into him, tomorrow."
"Sounds good."
"Oh, and thanks for dinner," said Carlisle, and he grinned. "It smelled wonderful."
Fun fact: I put this scene in the kitchen because it seemed reasonable that Bella might invite Carlisle over for dinner. It wasn't until the whole thing was written that I realized Carlisle wouldn't even be eating in the first place, and I had to go back through and change half of the action. Duh.
