Rating/Warning(s)/Note(s): T, Loudward
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Prompt: Music

"Bella?" Edward asked against my lips as I finally gave into the raging desire I had fought for weeks.

"Hmm?" I half-moaned, one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around his waist and reaching up to his shoulders to pull him down. He shifted minutely, but it was enough to allow him to lift me up onto the counter, pulling my legs around his waist. My senses were consumed by him as he was all I could see, taste, smell and feel, and I was perfectly fine with that.

His lips left mine, causing me to groan in protest and wrap my legs tighter around him, but he just placed his forehead on my shoulder. After catching his breath some he panted out, "Your father?"

"Oh, crap," I exclaimed, pushing him away from me so I could hop down from the counter, but he wouldn't let me go. His hands pinioned my hips to the counter and all my squirming had no effect, at least on me getting away.

"Bella, please stop moving," he groaned. Fixing me with a stare once I stopped moving with a huff, he just smiled. "Now, I'm going to let you go, and you are going to eat. The last thing I need is you passing out on me. While you're doing that, I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed."

I'm sure my face reflected my confusion. "But you took one last night," I questioned.

"I'm not planning on using any hot water," he smirked.

"Oh," I replied, blushing furiously.

"If I let you go do you promise to eat?" Too embarrassed to answer I just nodded. "Good, I'll be fast then you can get dressed." Even though I had agreed he just reached behind me to open the microwave, pulled out the plate of food and put it right into my hands with a look that let me know he would expect me to eat it all. I leaned over to grab a fork from the drawer next to me, and shoved a bite into my mouth, blushing when my stomach groaned in excitement over not being ignored anymore.

"Thank you," he said right before taking off up the stairs. It was impossible not to smile a little when the shower turned on.

Not wanting him to beat me, I wolfed down my food and headed up the stairs to change. Stripping down I went through my bag, looking for something to wear. I hadn't been in the greatest state of mind when I packed for this little trip, so standing in my bra and panties I laid out what I had left that was clean and inspected it.

"Well, that makes the shower a wasted effort," I heard behind me and spun around to see Edward standing in just a towel, his hair wet and flat against his head. My jaw dropped, for some reason the towel was sexier than the board shorts he'd had on last night, especially as I watched a drop of water drip from his hair and flow down his chest, emphasizing the contours of it. Turning his back to me he put his hands in his hair. "Please, Bella, put on some clothes or I swear we'll not be seeing your father anytime soon."

"Sorry, I thought you would get dressed in the bathroom." Pulling on whatever came to my hand I rushed through dressing. "It's safe now," I told him, looking down at myself to make sure what I had grabbed didn't look too bad and shoving the rest back into my bag.

"Not really," he muttered as he headed for his own bag and pulled out something to wear. "Not sure how you expect me to not make sex jokes when you prance around like that."

"I wasn't prancing," I objected, my tone full of indignation. "Nothing looked right so I couldn't decide is all."

His eyes travelled up and down my body. "Everything seems to be just fine." His eyes met mine and the telltale smirk was back. "I don't even have underwear on under this towel, so unless you want a show like the one I got," he trailed off with laughter as I bolted from the room and down the stairs.

Five minutes later we were in the car, Edward once again had hold of my hand, claiming it was his after selecting his 'soothing' playlist on the ipod. "I figured soft music would help calm you down," he said softly as the strains of Wynton Marsalis' trumpet filled the car for the short ride to the hospital.

Despite the soft music I was bouncing in my seat by the time we reached the hospital, ready to run for the door as soon as the car stopped. "Bella, wait for me, please," he grumbled, using his hold on my hand to keep me in the car. In a flash he was out and rounding the back to open the door for me, once again latching onto my hand.

As a result I was dragging him down the hallway in a half run in the direction of my dad's room, getting there just in time to see Dr. Gerandy leaving with a smile on his face. As soon as he saw me he called, "Bella! Your father will be very happy to see you this morning." With a nod in Edward's direction he added, "Morning Edward, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Um, sure?" Edward hesitantly replied, letting go of my hand after giving my fingers a squeeze.

No sooner than I was free of him I launched myself through the door, looking for my father. He had a huge smile on his face, and his color was already better, more the peach I was used to from my youth, even though he seemed to be in pain and tired. "Bells," he breathed out in a rasp, and I rushed into his arms.

"How're you feeling? They said the surgery went well, does it hurt very much? Your color is better but you look really tired, did you get enough rest last night?"

My father's painful sounding laughter stopped me. "You really sounded like your mother just then." His arms came around me weekly, giving me a slight squeeze before letting me go and laying back down on his bed, obviously worn out from even that small exertion. "The doc says your boy probably saved my life," he panted, and I worried that my visit was already too much for him.

"Yeah, he told me." Sitting down in the only other chair in the room I took his hand and noted how weakly he was squeezing it. "Are you doing all right dad? You didn't answer me," I asked, my concern starting to turn to fear.

"The doc says I'm doing quite well. I hate being so weak, but he says it'll pass in no time." His fingers gave mine a squeeze in return. "Even so weak, though, I already feel better. Doc says it's because I'm getting enough oxygen now."

We had always used humor to cover up our true feelings, and this time it was no different. "Well, I don't think you could afford to lose anymore brain cells, so that's probably a good thing."

My dad ripped his hand from mine, needing both to press against his chest as he laughed. "Don't make me laugh, Bells, it hurts too much," he chortled with a grimace as a tear came down his cheek.

Deciding to change the subject I asked about what he needed now. He tried to wave me off, but Edward came in and answered my question. "He'll spend about a week here before heading home, where it'll be another three minimum before he can return to work." My dad groaned and tried to wave him off with a grumble about how he'll be perfectly fine in no time. "They had to break your ribs, Chief, and stop your heart, and cut into your arteries, it will be at least a month. Who do you have to take care of you?"

"I'll move back home," I decided instantly, knowing there was no one.

"You most certainly will not," Charlie rasped. "You have your masters to finish. Sue will come live with me, it's already been decided."

"Sue?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and noting my father's blush.

Happy day everyone!