Special thanks to PG and Beccagold. You guys are the hot fudge and cherries on my sundae.

Just a quick heads up: this chapter contains mildly graphic descriptions of childbirth and some other medical stuff. If that kind of thing squicks you out, you may want to skim : )

Chapter 4

Damn his legs are long! I struggle to keep up with him as I follow him over to Labor & Delivery. He heads directly over to the nurses' station. A beautiful tall blonde woman in fitted cranberry colored scrubs walks over to us. She looks like every man's nurse fantasy, with curves in all the right places and a face that belongs on a magazine cover. She glances over me briefly, and then turns her attention to Edward. I suddenly feel very plain and mousey and shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from fidgeting.

"Hey, Edward," she greets him with a small smile, and hands him a chart. "Patient in room six is at four centimeters. Contractions are regular with some variable decelerations. I put her on her side and the fetal heart rate seems to have improved. I need orders for an epidural."

He flips through the chart. "There weren't any written already?"

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Up until 10 minutes ago, she didn't want one."

"Then, go ahead and call Anesthesia."

He turns to me as we walk over to the room. "What's the most common cause of early decelerations in fetal heart rate?"

Easy one. "Head compression of the umbilical cord. Turning the patient on their side relieves the pressure on the cord."

He nods. "Labor can progress pretty quickly after they reach four centimeters. We'll check her to see how far along she is and take it from there."

When we reach room six, I hear the patient before I see her. She is crying out in pain, and I feel my heart start racing. The closest thing I'd ever seen to an actual delivery was a circa 1970's film they showed us in class. I don't remember there being screaming in the film.

The woman looks young, probably close to my age. She has dark long hair that looks sweaty and tousled and a dark olive complexion. A man that I'm assuming is the father is sitting next to her, holding her hand as she struggles through a contraction. Her breathing starts slowing down as the contraction subsides, but her eyes look wild and her face is panicked.

"Hello, Mrs. Montes. I'm Dr. Cullen," he greets her warmly, and takes her free hand with a compassionate smile. "It looks like your labor is coming along very well."

She gives him a tight smile. "Is it too late for an epidural?" she rasps out, her voice scratchy from her screaming. "I really tried to do without it, but the pain, I didn't expect…" and she abruptly stops speaking. I can see her face and body tense up as another contraction hits her. I glance over at her monitor, and see that her contractions have become extremely regular and close together. Edward waits patiently as she writhes and cries out, giving her words of assurance.

"I'm going to check you to see how dilated you are." He then lifts the sheet covering her lower half and checks her progress. He looks back up at her quickly, his face calm and composed. "You're almost six centimeters. This is your first baby, so you should still have plenty of time. The anesthesiologist should be here soon, so try to hang in there." He tells me he'll be back and leaves the room.

Soon turns into a bit longer than soon, and Mrs. Montes is practically clawing the walls. I start talking to her in between contractions to keep her distracted.

"So do you know the sex of the baby?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "This is our first baby. It took so long for us to get pregnant, and we really just wanted to be surprised." She gazes at her husband, giving him a loving smile, which is quickly replaced by a horrible grimace as another contraction rips through her. "Holy fuck!" she screams loudly. "Where the fuck is the fucking anesthesiologist?" My eyes go wide, and she lets out a loud groan. "Oh my God, I can't do this. I have to push," she cries out in a panic. "NOW!"

Oh shit, where the fuck is the fucking anesthesiologist? The hell with that—where the fuck is Edward? I rush into the hallway and see him and the blonde Barbie doll briskly walking toward the room. He quickly puts on a gown and gloves and checks the patient.

"She's already crowning," he says. "Mrs. Montes, you're at ten centimeters already. I'm going to need you to start pushing as hard as you can when I say it's okay."

"What about the epidural? Can't I get an epidural?" she pleads, her voice frantic.

"I'm sorry, it's too late now. Your baby seems to be in a bit of a rush. You can do this," he reassures her, his voice commanding and confident. He glances at the monitor, seeing a contraction starting. "I need you to push now," he tells her firmly. "Keep pushing until I say to stop."

I watch in a combination of fascination and horror as Edward calmly coaches her through the delivery. Poor Mrs. Montes is puffing and screaming and swearing as if she's being cracked in half, and somehow it all seems a hell of a lot messier than I expected. At this point, I have officially decided not to have any children. Ever. Edward performs a small episiotomy to help her along. When the baby's head finally pops out—looking bloated and kind of purplish gray and slimy—all I can think of is that scene from Alien.

"You're doing great," Edward praises her. "Your baby's head is out, and the hardest part is over. Take a deep breath, and wait until I tell you to push again." He waits for her next contraction, yells "Push!" and she pops the rest of the little bugger out with a long, gut-wrenching scream. His hands and long fingers securely cradle the tiny human as he guides it out. He hands the now screaming baby quickly to Nurse Barbie, who wraps it in a towel and cleans it off briskly before wrapping it up and giving it back to Edward. He then takes the baby and places it into Mrs. Montes' trembling arms.

"Congratulations," he tells her with a stunning smile. "It's a beautiful baby girl."

Mrs. Montes starts to sob, and the way she looks at her brand new baby is just indescribable. It's a combination of joy, wonder, and pure unadulterated love. I feel my eyes mist up and a lump form in my throat, and I glance over at Edward. The look of proud satisfaction on his face is just as priceless.

XXX

After Edward completes the delivery, he begins to suture the episiotomy. "So what did you think?" he asks.

"I think I finally understand why I'm an only child." That doesn't make me a bad person, does it?

He chuckles softly. I stand behind him and watch as he carefully repairs the tear in this poor woman's hoo-ha after the freakish trauma it's endured. And I'm not going to lie to you—something about it kind of squicks me out. I mean, I've watched and assisted in countless different surgeries. None of them ever bothered me, but this is somehow…different. After a few minutes, I have strangely become aware that the room seems to be getting a bit warmer, but I almost feel as if I'm getting chills. A peculiar uneasy feeling forms in the pit of my stomach, and I can feel a dull ache building somewhere in the back of my head. I look down to the floor, but for some reason, the tiles look a little…wavy…

I suddenly feel like I need some fresh air. Immediately. I think I mumble something about getting a drink of water or something and just as I turn to leave, my feet don't seem to have gotten the memo, and the last thing I remember is feeling something hit my head before the entire room fades to black.

XXX

I am unexpectedly assaulted with the caustic smell of ammonia. My eyes shoot open and I feel disoriented, confused.

"Well, good morning, sunshine," a semi-familiar voice calls to me. I squint to try to focus, and my eyes meet a set of pretty, large deep blue ones. I realize to my dismay that it's Nurse Barbie holding a foul vial of smelling salts and I groan.

"Oh good God, please tell me I didn't do what I think I did," I mutter, completely humiliated.

Barbie lets out an exasperated sigh. "Don't think you're the first one it's happened to. Ready to stand up?" She holds out a hand to me and helps me up. I feel strange and wobbly, and I can feel my heartbeat in my ears. She supports me as I walk and leads me over to a chair. I stop in my tracks.

"No, I'm fine. Please, just let me get out of this room." So I can find a large volcano to jump into.

"Rosalie, go ahead and take her back to the residents' lounge," Edward says without turning around. "She hit her head, so make her lie down for a while."

"My head is fine," I insist.

Edward turns around and glares at me, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenches it. It's actually pretty hot. But that look tells me loud and clear that this is not open for discussion. Feeling embarrassed and utterly defeated, I lower my eyes and let Barbie take me back to the lounge.

I'm quiet most of the way. Sheer mortification can do that to a girl. I finally decide to man up when we get there and thank her for the escort.

"Oh, and I'm Bella, by the way. Though right now I feel like my name should be 'Mud.' "

She tosses her pretty, perfect, long blonde hair behind her shoulders. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get over it. There's a water cooler if you want. And it may not be a bad idea if you do lay down for a bit." With that, she heads back to L&D.

Nurse Barbie doesn't strike me as a very warm and fuzzy kind of gal.

My head still feels a little sore, so I decide that lying down for a few minutes can't hurt. I curl up onto the pleather dorm-room style couch and close my eyes.

I realize I must have actually fallen asleep when something hits my forehead and startles me awake. I open my eyes and there he is, Dr. Smug Bastard, sitting in the chair next to me with a guilty grin plastered across his face.

I give him my best death glare and think how nice it would be to be able to shoot laser beams out of my eyes so I could singe his hair. Hmmm…that makes for a rather entertaining visual. "Did you actually just throw something at me?" I snap.

"If you recall, you passed out and hit your head. What kind of a doctor would I be if I let you fall asleep with a possible concussion?"

I grit my teeth. "How about this—you stand around and watch some guy get his balls sewn back together after something the size of a watermelon comes shooting out of them, and let's see how it makes you feel."

"Whoa, easy there," he says, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. "I'm just checking to see if you're all right."

I moan and cover my eyes with my forearm. "Can't we just pretend nothing happened? Please?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Well, I can be bought."

I sit up and raise my eyebrows back at him. "The chocolate is non-negotiable. You cannot cheat your way up the hierarchy with blackmail. I'm not that kind of girl."

He looks pensive for a moment, and I can virtually see the light bulb go off over his head. "I have to respect a woman who doesn't give her dark chocolate up to just anyone," he says with a sly smirk. Punk. "And I have a better idea, anyway."

I fold my arms across my chest and cross my legs. "Oh, I can't wait to hear this one," I grumble. "Do tell."

"It's very simple, actually. You're going to be taking call with me for the next couple of weeks. All I ask is that the nights you're on that you bring me some of whatever you've made for dinner."

I'm taken a bit by surprise, and even flattered. I consider this for a moment. I can definitely work this to my advantage. "I'll tell you what. If you promise to teach me how to suture as well as you do, you've got yourself a deal."

He flashes me that delicious asymmetrical smile that does funny things to my insides and gives a firm nod of his head. "Done and done."

XXX

It's been a quiet night. I'm not sure what I actually expected, but there hasn't been much of anything going on. Not like I'm complaining. It's been a long day, and I'm just praying it doesn't start getting busy in the middle of the night. I use the down time to study, and Edward tinkers around on a netbook in his lap.

After a while, he closes the laptop and places it on the coffee table in front of us. Edward stretches, then leans back in his chair and puts his feet up on the small table. "So, Swan, what do you plan to do after graduation?"

"I'll probably go back home and get a job somewhere around there," I answer, neglecting to fill in the details about the position waiting for me back at my pediatric practice.

"And where would that be?" he asks, his bright green eyes inquisitive.

I shift around in my seat. "Forks, Washington. Most people have never heard of it." Alice teases me all the time about being from Podunk, Washington. Truth be told, it really is a small, rather uninteresting town. But it's where I grew up, and to me, it's home.

A strange look clouds his features. He glares at me in a peculiar way, almost like he's trying to read me.

"Forks." He says it as if it's a statement, though he's obviously questioning me.

I'm a bit confused by his reaction. I don't say anything, and wonder if he has heard of it and I've just given him new ammunition to tease me with. And then, out of nowhere, he leans his head back and starts laughing.

I'm sorry, but did I miss something?

His laughter dies down, and he runs his hands through his thick, messy hair. I'm staring at him stupidly, trying to figure out the joke I wasn't let in on. "Oh, that's a good one," he finally says. "Emmett put you up to this, right?"

I'm beyond baffled at this point. "Who the hell is Emmett?"

He studies me for a minute, and his expression becomes doubtful. "You're honestly telling me you're from Forks."

I bite my lip and look around the room, feeling uneasy again. His mood swings are giving me whiplash.

Sensing my discomfort, his face softens. "I'm sorry," he finally says. "But I don't think I've ever met another person from Forks before."

My eyes widen. "You mean…" I start, scrutinizing him and seeing that he looks completely sincere. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not," he confirms. "I grew up there."

A smile breaks out across my face, and he returns a weak smile in response. "Holy crow, that's just…crazy." I shake my head in disbelief. "Do you still have family there?"

"My parents still live there."

I chew on this for a while. He grew up there, too. He went to the same high school that I did. Seriously, what are the odds? Then a random thought pops into my head. "Your father isn't also a doctor by any chance, is he?"

"Yes he is," he verifies. I chuckle softly to myself. Of course the hot Emergency Room doctor at Forks Community Hospital had to be his father. "I take it you've met him?" he adds.

I look down at the book in my lap and fidget with the top corner of one of the pages. "I think I may have been to the ER once." Or twice…I definitely don't want to get into that right now. And by the expression on his face, it doesn't look like he wants to, either. His mood seems to have shifted somehow, and he's become more aloof and almost distracted. I shrug timidly. "Small world."

He mutters something under his breath that almost sounds like, "You have no idea," but I can't be sure. It doesn't seem as if it was even addressed to me.

He stands up abruptly and scratches at the back of his neck. "I'm going to go get some coffee," he says, and walks toward the doorway. He pauses for a moment and turns his head back toward me without actually looking at me. "Do you want anything from Starbucks?"

"No thanks," I answer softly, as I glance over at the coffee maker in the room. He nods and walks out, leaving me alone and wondering what the hell just happened.

XXX

I must have nodded off, because he startles me when he finally returns to the residents' lounge. I glimpse at the clock on the wall and see that it's a little after 11:00 p.m., over an hour later. He walks toward me but only picks up the laptop on the table. He looks tired.

"Why don't you get some sleep," he says, gesturing with his head toward one of the on-call rooms.

My neck feels stiff from the awkward position I fell asleep in. I knead the back of it to loosen the muscles. "Isn't there something I can do? Is there anything going on I can help with?" I ask. I feel like I've done nothing all night. Oh, I stand corrected. Nothing except pass out and make a complete fool of myself, and somehow aggravate Dr. Moody.

"It's pretty quiet tonight. I'll page you if something comes up." I try to read his face, but his expression is impassive.

"Okay," I murmur, and get up to grab my bag. I can feel him watch me as I head into the call room.

"Hey, Swan," he calls to me. I turn my head to look back at him. "How's your head?"

"Oh, it's fine," I say dismissively. I wish I could say the same for what's going on inside it. "Goodnight."

I hear him quietly answer "goodnight" as I close the door.


A/N: SM owns Twilight. I'm just playing.

Poor Bella...if any of you out there have some interesting theories of your own, I'd love to hear them.

Thanks for reading : )