The Kindness of Semi-Strangers
By Freddie Stardust
Disclaimer: I own nothing – Stephenie Meyer is the genius behind the Twilight series. I make no money from writing this story.
Chapter Three – Captain Cullen to the Rescue
The ride to Port Angeles seemed to take a lifetime rather than the hour it actually took up Route 101. Jessica's musical tastes were infuriating; she loved the generic crap pumped through mainstream radio, whereas I would have been content listening to just the sounds of the road, or else an old Bowie album.
When we finally arrived in the city, Jessica and Angela led me through the grid-patterned streets. On the way to our destination, we passed an old shop that had several sale tables set up just outside the door. Jessica giggled as she picked up an item off the table.
"Bit early for Halloween, right?" she said, waving the figurine around. It was a miniature Count Dracula, complete with oversized fangs and a tiny billowing cape. "No wonder it's on clearance."
I looked at the figurine for a moment, taking in its pale skin, crimson eyes, and general air of foreboding, despite its obvious purpose being for the amusement of candy-seeking, costume-clad children. It seemed familiar, but once again, my mind was throwing a curtain down. I was unable to place why it was so memorable, and followed Jessica and Angela down the street to a shop that sold a mix of new and secondhand gowns. They were almost beautiful enough to make me reconsider my thoughts on prom – almost.
I valiantly endured the Inquisition ("Does this make my boobs look big enough?" "Is my waist too high in this one?") for an hour and a half before bailing. There was a bookstore I had noticed on the way in that look like it might have the second volume of the first edition of Villette, and so I set out in search of the shop.
There was only a light mist coming down outside, so I left my hood down as I navigated the side streets of Port Angeles. Despite it being so early in the afternoon, it was incredibly dark; there was a thick cover of ominous clouds threatening to turn the light mist into something much more capable of soaking through my clothes.
I finally found the shop after asking directions from a local and stepped inside, wiping my shoes on the mat inside the door. The clerk was a younger guy, maybe a year or two below me in school, who was much more interested in his comic book than anyone who stepped through the door. I found the classics section after a bit of searching and was dismayed to find only volumes one and three of Villette.
After looking around for a few more minutes, I walked back outside and found it even darker than it had been before. I pulled up my hood in anticipation of the impending storm and walked quickly back in the direction from which I had come.
I heard laughter a block ahead of me. It was distinctly male and drunk in nature, and I had to decide rather promptly how to act – go back to the safety of the bookshop, or press on?
Deciding that I was just stereotyping what was probably a friendly bunch of guys, I chose the latter and continued on. Big mistake.
"Hey there beautiful," came a voice from in front of me.
I gave a strained smile and tried to keep walking. An arm on my shoulder caused me to stop rather abruptly.
"I was talking to you," said the owner of the voice. He was probably in his early twenties and had the distinctive air of a frat boy – visor pulled sideways over perfectly gelled brown hair, polo shirt complete with popped collar, and sneakers that were blindingly white despite probably being a few years old.
"Yeah, it's rude not to answer when someone pays you a compliment," said another guy, this one blond-tipped.
I kept my silence, trying to decide how best to escape without provoking them to violence. Adrenaline was pumping through me, confusing my thought process and fueling my flight or fight instincts. Flight seemed like a good idea – there was no way I could take on four guys on my own. I could barely walk near a stationary object without getting hurt.
The brown-haired one edged closer to me, his friends fanning out to my sides and back.
"Didn't your momma teach you manners?" he slurred, whiskey breath washing over me. I was paralyzed by a variety of emotions: disgust, anger, and predominantly a blinding terror.
Just as the guys were all closing in on me, there was a flash of color to my left and right, and then a voice – a beautiful, heaven-sent voice.
"Is there a problem here?" Carlisle Cullen's voice was deceptively calm as he stood on my left. The guys jumped back, taken aback by the very sudden arrival.
I looked to my right – Jasper Hale was standing there still as a statue, making no attempt to hide the fury that was painted on his face. His eyes looked almost black with rage.
The leader of my would-be attackers attempted to laugh light-heartedly, but it was hard to brush off the whole affair when two tall, obviously livid men flanked his target. I would have laughed if I weren't still terrified.
"No problem man. Just catching up with an old friend, right?" He dared to look at me in hopes of corroboration of his story, and I shrunk back a bit. I could have sworn I heard Jasper growl, and the four boys backed up a bit more, keeping a wary eye on him.
"Is that true?" Carlisle asked, his question directed at me but his gaze still trained on the guy. I shook my head almost imperceptibly. "Then perhaps you should leave now," he continued.
The kid rolled his eyes. "I don't take direction from anyone, man."
Jasper took a few steps forward, and the guys took a few steps back. Carlisle's head whipped around to look at his adopted son. He moved his lips quickly, saying something in a tone so low I couldn't hear at only a foot's distance away. Jasper continued to stare angrily at the group, but made no further move toward them.
The blond-tipped guy shook his head, obviously rattled. "Come on, guys. This scene's whack anyway." They began moving away from us, throwing occasional glances over their shoulders at us as they went.
Once they were a safe distance away, I began to tremble, my knees nearly collapsing under me. Despite all the trouble I had managed to get into in my lifetime, this was by far the most horrifying experience I had ever had. I had nearly been mugged, or beaten, or raped, or all of the above.
Carlisle caught me before I even realized I was falling. He looked to Jasper as he held me to his chest, and Jasper nodded. I suddenly felt much calmer, lighter, as if I was floating. The fear was still there, but it was almost as if someone had thrown a sheet over it.
"Bella, can you understand me?" Carlisle asked.
I nodded, still shaking.
"You're in shock. I need to take you somewhere warm, and you need food."
I thought of Jessica and Angela waiting for me at the store – they would no doubt be getting worried.
"My friends…" I began, my voice barely a broken whisper.
"Jasper, could you find Jessica and Angela, please? Tell them Bella got sick and I took her home."
Jasper nodded. He seemed to be doing as little speaking and even breathing as possible. He strode down the street and disappeared around the corner.
Carlisle held me close for a few minutes, moving a reassuring hand up and down my back with my head tucked safely under his chin. I took deep breaths to try to stop my shaking, inhaling his intoxicating scent at the same time. He smelled of sandalwood and spearmint – deep and crisp.
"Can you walk now? It looks like it's about to rain pretty hard," he said softly. I nodded, not wanting to leave the comfort of his cool embrace. Luckily for me, he kept one arm around my shoulder as we made our way slowly down the street into town.
By the time we made it to a restaurant, the lunch rush was over. Carlisle led me into an Italian place and asked for a corner booth. The hostess gave him an appreciative once-over before leading us to our table, and if I hadn't been so distraught, I would have glared at her.
Once I had scooted around into the center of the booth, Carlisle sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. I relaxed into his touch, finally feeling like I wasn't about to be attacked.
"Thanks," I murmured, shutting my eyes and leaning my head back against the seat.
"Any time, Bella."
"You're like a superhero or something. Captain Carlisle. You'd make a great cereal." I cringed at my words; I tended to ramble when I was upset, and it seemed tonight was no exception.
Carlisle laughed. "Thanks, I think."
My body was still trembling slightly, and Carlisle rubbed soothing patterns on my shoulder.
"So, just out of curiosity, why were you stalking me tonight?" I asked before I could stop the thought from being verbalized.
Carlisle froze for a moment, and then continued tracing shapes on my upper back. "Jasper and I were here with Alice. She needed a new dress for prom, and I needed to pick up a cake for the chief of medicine's birthday."
I raised an eyebrow. "The bakery is on a sketchy side street by the marina?"
"Correct."
"So where's the cake?"
Carlisle sighed, but I could tell it was a sigh of defeat, not annoyance. "You're far too curious for your own good, Bella."
The waitress chose to show up and take our orders at that moment, and I rolled my eyes. Perfect timing.
"What would you like, sir?" the waitress drawled, blatantly eye-fucking the doctor.
He smiled politely and shook his head. "I've already eaten. But my friend here needs some food, stat."
I bit my lip out of nervous habit. "I haven't actually looked at the menu."
"May I order for you?"
The gentleman-appreciating romantic in me that I thought was long dead did a gleeful dance. "Um, sure."
Carlisle smiled at me and then turned to the waitress. "The lady will have the mushroom ravioli."
The waitress nodded and sauntered off, giving her hips an extra bit of wiggle in hopes of catching the doctor's attention, no doubt. Her mission failed; his topaz eyes were trained on me.
"Good choice, Dr. Cullen. I love mushroom ravioli."
"Carlisle. Just Carlisle. I'm off duty tonight."
I nearly moaned as he hit an especially sensitive spot on my neck, and perhaps I didn't do a good enough job of stifling the sound, because Carlisle gently removed his hand from around me to adjust the position in which he was seated. For some reason I couldn't explain, I almost felt as if his occasional shifting, blinking, and even breathing were only for my benefit and that of the people around us.
"Alright, Carlisle, then. You were about to fess up," I reminded him. "What's really going on with the Cullen family? I may sometimes be one crayon short of a full box, but I know when something is out of the ordinary."
He pursed his lips together in thought. "Edward seems to trust you."
"Don't you?" I retorted sharply.
"Yes," he said immediately. "That didn't come out as I intended, and I'm sorry. But if you'll just hear me out, you'll understand what I mean."
I nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"The Cullens are different; you're right. We're not like the rest of the people in Forks. We're not like most of the people in the world. But that is a fact we work very hard to disguise, and it is disguised because most people are not equipped to understand or accept it."
He paused, whether for dramatic effect or to reorganize his thoughts, I didn't know.
"I like you, Bella. I like you a great deal. I think you're a wonderful, intelligent, and very insightful young woman."
I blushed hard at his words. "I don't think you know me well enough, then."
He gazed intensely at me as he spoke. "I think I do. And perhaps I 'd like to learn more."
The food finally came, thankfully brought out by a runner who didn't ask questions about Carlisle's appetite, or lack thereof. Its arrival gave me a moment to regroup as I processed what Carlisle had just said. I picked at my food, trying to clarify his suggestion.
"You're still avoiding my question," I said, deciding to ignore his cryptic yet thrilling words for the moment. "Why are the Cullens different?"
Carlisle laughed. "You're rather tenacious, aren't you?" He shook his head with a smile. "You know why we're different, Bella. It'll come to you. Just try to remember."
"Remember what?" I asked, panicking. "What did I forget? Was my head injury that bad?"
"No, your head is fine. But if you think hard enough, you'll figure it out." He rested his head on his hand as he watched me eat. "I think you should have a cell phone."
"Is that what I'm supposed to remember?" I said, injecting as much sarcasm into my tone as possible.
"I'd rather you have a foolproof way of getting help if needed, instead of relying on happy coincidences."
I shrugged. "I guess I could get one."
Carlisle lit up with a dazzling smile. "Great! There's an AT&T store a few miles down 101. I'll drive you over, and I can be the very first name in your phonebook."
I blushed furiously and lowered my face toward my food, pretending to examine a fluffy pasta pillow. "Sounds good to me," I said as nonchalantly as I could manage. I had a feeling he saw right through my cool and collected act. Truth was, Carlisle Cullen made me feel like a fish on land; I was completely out of my element.
As soon as I finished eating, Carlisle walked me to his car, a sleek black Mercedes that looked far too expensive for me to be within a three-mile radius of it.
"Nice ride," I said, wincing at my unintended double entendre. Open mouth, insert foot.
"Thanks," he said with a grin as he opened the passenger door for me. I gingerly lowered myself onto the seat and admired the interior. I was by no means a grease monkey, but I could still appreciate a fine piece of machinery. With a truck like mine, it was hard to take nice cars for granted. Anything that went two miles without backfiring was an upgrade for me.
We sped down 101, making easy conversation about work, school, the weather; all the small talk that usually made me cringe. It was different with Carlisle, though – much as I wanted to kick myself for even thinking it, I really could just listen to his voice all day.
Man up, Swan! Let's not get googly-eyed over Dr. Sexy Pants. Not until we figure out the wife/girlfriend situation…
"Here we are," Carlisle announced, pulling into a spot in front of a retail store with a neon sign announcing its status as an AT&T dealer.
It didn't take me long to pick out a pretty cheap, practical LG flip phone that would fit in my back pocket without making me look like I had a giant boil on my ass. Carlisle helped me hash out the details of the plan and pricing, and then, as promised, programmed his number into my contacts list. He then handed the phone back to me, letting his cool hand linger a bit longer on mine than necessary.
Don't blush don't blush don't blush. Fuck, I'm blushing.
Carlisle opened the door for me again, and I inconspicuously pulled a loose hair off my shirt and chucked it out the slightly lowered window. No way was I sullying the car with even a single hair.
"Hey Carlisle, how is Jasper getting home?" I asked as Carlisle dropped into the seat next to me.
"It's a nice day for a jog," he replied with a mysterious smirk. I decided not to press the issue, not wanting to seem like I was prying. But that would be one hell of a long jog… Would he really just leave his kid to run a distance that took an hour by car?
"Kidding, Bella," Carlisle said, rolling his eyes. "He's bumming a ride from Alice."
"Oh." Smooth.
The ride back to Forks was shorter than I would have liked; Carlisle drove rather fast, and I probably would have been scared shitless if I hadn't been busy ogling him out of the corner of my eye.
As we pulled up to Charlie's house, I gave Carlisle a bright smile. "Thanks so much for… everything. Feeding me, rescuing me, catching me up to modern-day technology…"
He laughed and squeezed my hand gently. "Any time, Bella. You have my phone number now – don't hesitate to use it."
Before I could read too much into his words, I peeled myself off the soft leather seat and walked up to the front door, giving Carlisle a quick wave before slipping inside.
I closed the door behind me and slid to the floor, giggling like a lunatic in a rather self-indulgent moment of uncharacteristic girliness. As I heard Carlisle's car drive off, I inexplicably giggled harder.
This was just too bizarre. One minute he was Dr. Cullen, stitching me up after a death-defying accident, and the next he was buying me lunch and telling me to call him.
"Bella? You home?"
I picked myself up, leaving most of my dignity on the floor as Charlie peeked into the foyer.
"Sounds like you had fun with the girls," he half-stated, half-asked in typical awkward Charlie fashion.
"You have no idea." I smiled nostalgically, and then quickly shook my head to clear it of my frivolous fantasies. "Hungry?"
"Always." Charlie gave me a smirk before disappearing once more into the den to watch the college games. I rolled my eyes (with love, of course) and headed for the kitchen to make dinner.
I whipped up a quick chicken casserole and salad, and then called Charlie into the kitchen. He sat down at the table, taking an appreciative sniff of the air.
"You're a hell of a cook," he said, loosening his belt in anticipation. I shrugged, though secretly pleased at the compliment.
We ate in relative silence, occasionally making small talk about how his ball game had been rained out halfway through or my new cell phone, whose number he quickly programmed into his own phone.
Great. My dad is more technologically "with it" than I am. Baby Boomers – 1, GenX – 0.
As I cleared the dishes, Charlie put the leftovers into Tupperware containers. "Should be having some sunny days soon," he said, attempting more small talk. "God knows this town could use it; with everyone so pale, you'd think we were a town of vampires."
The dish I was holding slipped out of my soapy hands and into the sink with a crash.
"You okay Bells?" Charlie asked, picking up the plate and wiping it off.
Pale. Cold. Fast. Strong. Eyes. Dazzling. Lack of appetite.
"Oh…"
A/N: Another shameless ploy for reviews in the form of an acrostic poem (in which the first letter of each line spells out a word – guess which one…)
Carlisle is a sex god
And to see him in action,
Reviews fuel the writer.
Little words of encouragement
I love to receive;
Send a quick
Little blurb, and I'll write
Even faster!
Apparently I've confused the crap out of people regarding Edward's… er, orientation. I love confusion. I think I'll keep it going for a while. All will be explained in due time.
Much love to those adding me on Alert or Favorites – every add has been a bright spot in an otherwise stressful and all-too-long week. Hurrah for the weekend, and hurrah for the Alerters/Favoriters!
A big sloppy kiss to my lovely reviewers – Nevaehell, Megara1, Jits, aerobee82, Dist12, notashamedtobesoilyfan, acw1, StormDragonfly, heartless13, Leah (loved your haiku, by the way!), teishamarie, GimmeABeat, Emma-girl, Merina Green, MissJessica92, jess, Kookie-chan, yueyuuko, kaylamarie2012, Nobody42, and Scorp112. I enjoyed each and every one of your reviews; even a little blurb just telling me you like it and to write more sends me into a fit of giggles similar to that which Bella suffers after Carlisle drops her off at home. I'm so not exaggerating – they totally make my day. :-)
Coming soon: Bella has words for Carlisle. Some of them aren't so ladylike. Stay tuned.