Part One: Good Afternoon, Professor
A/N: This is a plot donkey that refuses to be caged even after its heehaws are written down in basic point form. So I had to get this out. Start of a two, or maybe three chapter long story.
I know that building a robot such as this isn't simple, and I don't study the parts well so I can't use technical terms... sorry. But it's a story I badly want to try.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
April, 2012
Another piece.
He wipes the sheen of sweat on his forehead with the white sleeves of his scientist coat. His fingers work furiously as they tweak, pulling out another screw as he grits his teeth.
"No, the mechanism doesn't work this way, Edward," he snaps at himself, obviously frustrated as he flings the screwdriver on the ground and kicks it against the wooden cupboard which it meets with a loud, satisfying 'thud'.
He slumps against the tables behind him, his eyes closed in exasperation as he let out a sigh. He feels the exhaustion drains out of his body as he absorbs the silence and peace around him.
His long lashes flutter open, almost brushing against his high cheekbones as he gathers his sanity once more.
He gazes at the pale but delicate features drawn out months before.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes alight with an undefined emotion.
He shakes his head free of his thoughts, getting back to work immediately.
\\\+\\\
June, 2012
"Edward, this is getting ridiculous," Esme tries to reason as he heads down to the basement to get his work done. "You've been working on that since forever."
"It's because it's forever that I need to do this!" His eyes are ablaze with fury and his voice is sharp as he snaps.
When he sees the hurt in Esme's eyes, he feels guilt gnawing inside him and his voice softens, "I need to do this."
"Why, son?" Carlisle asks, as he squeezes his wife's shoulders in an attempt to comfort, "You've been distant lately."
Edward opens his mouth, closes it, then starts back downstairs.
"Oh, Carlisle," Esme murmurs against his sleeve, "I feel as if I'm losing my son to his so-called... project." The last word is full of hate and distaste.
Carlisle smoothes the top of her brown hair soothingly, remaining silent.
Esme sniffs as she leans to his touch.
\\\+\\\
July, 2012
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Edward shouts, his rage echoing in the empty room. He runs his fingers through his unruly hair. "Why can't I get this right?"
He takes the metal plates out from the body, squinting at it as he raises it to the bright light hanging on the ceiling. "Oh."
Sudden realization flashes past him and a grin appears on his face.
"That's it," he says to himself.
He plucks one of the wires out and reattaches it to another circuit.
A wide grin stretches his face. "I'm a fucking genius."
"God, Em, if you were here.." his grin fades, and he falters in his movements.
"I'm helping you, Em," he murmurs quietly. "It's slow, but I'm trying."
\\\+\\\
September, 2012
"Edward!" The frantic voice of his father shakes him, and he drops his tools immediately, rushing up to his father's panicked gestures.
"What happened?" Edward demands, as he falls beside the unconscious body of his mother's. He presses two fingers against her neck. "It's weak. Have you called the ambulance?"
"Yes," Carlisle replies, rubbing the sides of his forehead with his fingers, obviously stressed out.
"What happened?" Edward asks again, his voice with a tinge of impatience. "Don't leave anything out."
His father sighs, a weary one. "I wasn't about to." He glances at Esme, "she was worried about you. Losing yourself to the project you are dedicated to."
"I told her it wouldn't do much good meddling. She should let you finish your project and everything will be back to normal again. She refuses to, then just bursts in tears, saying this was similar to the period when your brot -" he chances a careful look at Edward, who remains stoic, "your brother was obsessed with his creation."
"Dad," Edward starts to say, but he cuts him off.
"I understand you've things you want to do, but take your mother's health into consideration - it isn't the greatest."
Edward pinches the bridge of his nose. The sirens approach.
"I get it," he says quietly, "I'll fix a schedule."
His father beams at him, "Thank you, son."
Edward manages a grin in response.
\\\+\\\
15 November, 2012
"Hey, Mum," Edward kisses both her cheeks as he enters. She grins as she takes the groceries from him.
"Thanks, honey."
Carlisle gives him a thumbs-up sign as she walks back to the kitchen to put away the groceries.
"Going to be done?"
"Yes," Edward confirms, nearly exhilarated, "I feel so excited."
"That's great, son," he pats his shoulder once, "you'll tell us the reason then, right?"
He nods his head in affirmation and heads down to the basement as scheduled.
\\\+\\\
5 December, 2012
"Emmett was never specific with what he was building," Edward says, "but he left me a recording and he had told me before he passed on - to finish it in his memory."
Esme's eyes widen in surprise at the mention of Emmett's name then waters slightly. Carlisle purses his lips, but otherwise remain silent.
"He was building a human."
The room is tense as he allows the other two occupants let the news sink in.
"A human? A bloody human?" Esme shouts, jumping up from her seat, "is he insane?"
"How can that be possible, son?" Carlisle asks calmly as he rubs her trembling shoulders soothingly.
"Relax, sweetheart," he whispers in her ear. Her posture relax a little, but there is no other change as she stares at Edward, eyes hard.
"And? What else?"
"He had been on it for at least ten years, Rosalie's appearance in his life paused his process at some point, but after her accident, he continued working on it endlessly. It was his life's work, you can say." Edward steeples his fingers together. "After his..." he swallows at the sudden tightening of his throat, "death, about a year later, I got his parcel. I was shocked - It was as if he knew he would die. That early."
He pauses, collecting himself as he takes a deep breath, "It was the video camera he always liked to carry around when he was with us, you know? The one with ridiculous hello kitty stickers because he claimed it made it look fashionable. That idiot."
He chuckles with his family, then he sobers, "I ran through all of it. It was the latest video, created a few weeks before his death. He filmed this basement -" he gestures to the ground, "with the lifeless doll in it. He pleaded to ask me to finish it - it was his last wish because he'd always wanted to make it to something more. But he didn't get the chance to."
He fixes a fierce and determined stare at both his parents. "I couldn't reject it. He was so sincere and the project itself seems so... magical. I followed his manual, but Em wasn't a very organized person and I ended up improvising."
"And now I'm nearly done."
His parents are quiet for a moment.
"Can we see it?"
He shakes his head, "I want it to be complete when you do. It's going to be by January, earliest."
They both nod.
"I'm sorry, dear," Esme says softly, "for trying to deter you from helping your brother. I didn't know -"
"No, mum, I was wrong." Edward grins. "I shouldn't have been an insufferable asshole and ignored you guys for weeks."
"You've grown to be a good man, son." Carlisle ruffles his hair affectionately, and he makes a sound of protest as he dodges away.
Esme simply laughs at their childish antics and they both chase each other around the room.
\\\+\\\
20 December, 2012
"Hey! That's mine," Edward protested as another pair of hands snatch the packet of turkey away. He turns, a little irritated, and meets with a pair of brilliant blue eyes.
"Well, sorry, dude, better luck next time," she says, winking as she throws the last turkey into her cart, her behind swaying in a way so obscene that it can't be unintentional. He feels himself grin as he attempts to catch up to the strawberry blonde.
"At least give me the turkey, you don't celebrate Christmas that early, do you?" He challenges as he leans against the cart to stop it from moving.
The blonde rolls her eyes. "I have to, my parents have it early."
His eyes widen. "You too?"
"They get too excited for Christmas," she says, laughing as they begin walking, now side by side.
"Mine too," Edward agrees, chuckling along. She's beautiful- even her laugh is unique.
"Edward Cullen," he introduces himself, sticking out his hand.
"Tanya Denali," she replies, accepting his hand. They remain that posture for a moment too long, and she drags her index finger from his wrist as she pulls away from his grip. She gives him a sly smirk.
He smirks back, feeling her actions eliciting a reaction from his lower parts and he shifts.
"Got little Edward all excited, did I?" Tanya asks, a little too smug.
"Not little at all," Edward replies, winking at her.
She blinks, a little taken aback, then laughs again. "We'll see about that."
\\\+\\\
5 January, 2013
"Yes! Just one last thing missing." His brows wrinkle as he searches through the cabinets, then slam it shut it frustration. "No, not there."
His phone rings then, and he smiles when he realizes it to be Tanya.
"Hello, baby?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"I want to see you now," he laughs when he hears her whine over the phone. "Don't laugh, baby, I'm serious!"
"I've work right now, honey," he says, still laughing. He can practically feel her pout.
"No! Eddie!"
"You know I hate that nickname, Yaya," he feels himself cringing when he says that.
"Ew! You're incorrigible, Edward! You didn't have to use that disgusting nickname," she snaps over the phone, but it is filled with good humour.
"Okay, okay, sorry, darling," he says, as he rummages through the drawers.
"That's better," she says approvingly, "now get your ass over here now."
"I've work, I told you," Edward says, shaking his head, exasperated at her antics.
"What about me, lying on bed in nothing but your favourite red lingerie set?" He hears her purr over the phone.
He groans despite himself, adjusting his pants as the visual flashes past his mind, "Jesus, Tanya! I'm a man! Don't play dirty!"
"I want to be dirty," her voice is full of implications, with none that are innocent for a five year old to listen.
He slams the cupboard shut. "Be there in fifteen."
"Yes!"
"Get ready for some punishment because you so obviously need it."
"Yes, sir!"
\\\+\\\
10 January, 2013
"I did it," he says softly, eyes wide as if he can't believe it. "I did it!"
"I fucking did it!" he screams in joy, emotions running rampant. His parents knock on the door and he shouts his assent.
They scramble in, stare at the unmoving life-sized doll on the bed and laugh, "Good grief, it's Emmett's idea all right."
"I know!" He gestures to the body so like a normal woman's. Yes, done to the very detail.
"It's filled with fresh blood, pumped by a machine I managed to reduce in size to fit in her, and all her mechanisms are much like our bodies! It's amazing," he says, still in awe as he traces his finger along the outline of her face.
"Can it move?" Esme asks curiously.
"Oh, just you wait, mum," he says, eyes shining mischievously, and he turns the doll around. Near the rear end is a small dot that looks like a mole. He presses on it. "It connects to the pumper and activates it. It'll start pushing her other mechanisms to work. Give it some time."
He waits a moment. His parents look delighted. "We'll go get some juice for you."
He nods, but he isn't really listening.
Her fingers twitch. He feels a smirk lifting the corner of his lips up.
She sits up, and she turns to face him in such a confused manner - so like a real human, it's disconcerting.
"Good afternoon, I'm your professor and your creator," he introduces himself confidently.
She stares at him like she can't comprehend English. Then she replies, "Good afternoon, Professor."
Her voice is sweet and innocent - so much he feels as if his heart is going to stop beating but her flat dull brown eyes allow him to breathe - he feels like a fucking teenage girl meeting her first infatuation.
He shrugs it off.
"You'll be my assistant from today on," he says, voice laced with authority, "No one will know your true identity, except for my family and I."
"Yes, Professor." She nods obediently, and he feels himself smile, but she doesn't return it. It doesn't affect his mood.
"Oh fuck!" A curse tumbles out of both Carlisle's and Esme's lips the same time, their faces pale as they watch the clearly moving girl jump down from the bed, then nearly tripping over and falling into Edward's arms.
Edward chuckles. "You'll have to learn how to walk properly."
She looks at him curiously. "I know how to, Professor."
"S-son," Carlisle manages to speak, "she -"
"I've decided to name her, Dad." Edward beams proudly, patting the girl on her head affectionately. "She's adorable."
"Edward!" Esme sounds absolutely appalled. "She's still a girl, and however shocked I am to see her moving and talking, I don't want a naked girl walking about in my house!"
She pulls the befuddled girl in her arms gently, and says, "I'm Edward's mum, and I'l lgive you some clothes to wear now, all right?"
"Edward?" she stumbles a little over the second syllable.
"Yes, your professor."
She looks over at him. He continues beaming.
"What's her name?" Esme asks, eyes appraising the girl's body; it is hard not to. How can she feel this real?
Edward looks directly at the curious female, eyes wandering about in the room. "Your name is Isabella. Isabella Masen."
A/N: Please drop a review to tell me your thoughts. It's a little draggy, I realized, after finishing this chapter, but some parts were necessary. So this marks the beginning of a two-shot - or three. I'll see how it goes according to feedback!
-C.A.