A/N: This chap is dedicated to passionmama. At least the first part is. She knows why. xoxo

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight

-x-x-x-x-

Chapter 10 - I Am His

I'm making rounds on my patients when I discover ailing Mrs. Beres has gotten out of bed without assistance. She just "couldn't hold it" and "couldn't find her call light." It's in the bed with her, but she has poor vision and ultimately decided to take matters into her own hands.

Now she's barely standing, her IV line stretched across the room, her adult briefs down to her ankles as she wades in a puddle of her own urine. I get her back into bed, clean her up, slap on a new diaper, and hand her the call button. She thanks me and apologizes and I head down the hallway in search of towels and cleaning supplies. I could call housekeeping, but sometimes it's easier to just do things myself.

I don't hear the noises until it's too late.

Stopping at the janitor's closet, I snatch the door open without thinking, only to be accosted by the sight of a pale, bare ass and a pair of widely spread legs. I stand frozen in horror for five seconds – long enough for Emmett to turn around and look at me and long enough to see Dr. Hale's face peek over his shoulder, both of their expressions alarmed. Then I slam the door shut and run like hell down the hallway, anxiously digging my phone out of my pocket so I can tell Edward.

Because I was so right about that shit.

Red alert! – I just caught Nurse M and Dr. H doing a vertical tango by the ammonia bottles, I text him. I don't know why I don't use their real names and simply say 'sex' - perhaps I'm trying to preserve their diginity in case the secret hospital security system is able to intercept our text messages. Either way, you can never be too careful.

His returning text takes a little while, and I'm impatient and overly excited about my discovery. I clean up the pee while I wait and page housekeeping to come mop.

I hide out in the bathroom when I feel my phone vibrate.

As much as I want to comment on your choice of words right now… are you fucking serious?

Does a bear shit in the woods?

Bella…

YES I'M SERIOUS.

What happened?

Nothing. I ran away.

You ran?

Like my ass was on fire. It was horrifying.

Could have at least snapped a picture...

That's sick. I don't want a picture of Emmett's hairy ass on my phone.

It would have made good blackmail.

Damn. He's right. But there was no time. Emmett surely would have clocked me if he saw me scrambling with the buttons on my phone. I know for certain he wouldn't have stood there and posed.

Just knowing about this could be good blackmail, I reply.

True. I'm sorry you had to see that.

You and me both.

-x-x-

Not surprisingly, Emmett walks into the nurses station as if nothing happened. He's completely natural except for the fact that he won't make eye contact with me. Nor does he really talk to me at all.

I'm itching to bring it up, but I feel it's a matter best discussed in private, even though the actual act ended up being anything but private. I feel like the image of his ass has been scorched onto my eyelids. Every time I close my eyes, it's all I see.

It's been almost four days since I've seen Edward. Ever since our night in the park. We stayed there for almost an hour, just talking and kissing and enjoying the gorgeous view. With each sweet touch, with each detail shared, I felt like I was falling just a little bit harder.

And that scared me.

I wasn't purposefully keeping my distance from him. I spent most of Sunday finishing my unpacking, and then on Monday I worked on getting my Washington license and car tag. Monday night, I helped Alice hang some pictures she had bought. We drank wine and ate nachos with cheese dip, and then Irina stopped by and we shot the breeze over her torrid little setup with Peter. Alice admitted that she had caught on to what Irina was planning and that's why she stopped arguing against it, which didn't surprise me. After I was good and tipsy, they even got me to admit that I had kissed Edward the same night of the awful date. They then shared stories of horrible dates they'd been on, and I eventually confessed that it's been ages since I've gotten any real action.

That's when the night really took off.

Irina insisted I follow her to her car, only to pop her trunk and reveal a car stuffed to the brink with dildos. Well, not dildos, per se; she had vibrators, anal beads, butt plugs, scented lotions, and edible cream. It was like she was driving around with the world's smallest sex shop in the back of her car, and I was flabbergasted.

"It's not as good as sex," Irina said as she handed me one of her toys, "but it's a damn good alternative."

Alice was oohhing and aahhing as she looked at everything. As tipsy as I was, I still found the decency to blush over holding a giant purple dildo in the middle of the parking lot at Alice's apartment.

"What on earth are you doing with all this?" I asked her, handing back the toy.

"I sell them," she said simply.

"You sell dildos?"

"Well not just dildos," she corrected me. "But yes. I do Passion Parties." At my doubtful look she added, "It's fun! And I get a discount on everything I buy. So I can sell you something at a cheaper price."

"Can you sell me something at a cheaper price?" Alice asked hopefully.

"Of course, chica. What do you want?"

"Maybe we should take this inside," I said warily.

"There's no one around, Bella," Alice argued. "Hell, it's my apartment and I'm not even embarrassed. Now stop being a prude and pick out a dildo."

I gave her the stink-eye.

"I actually don't have any dildos with me," Irina corrected her. "These are vibrators. See?" She turned on one of the slong-shaped contraptions and it began buzzing in her hand. Alice looked on with rapt fascination. "This one even lights up," she said as she began sex toy diving for the next vibrator. She turned it on and it began flashing like a rainbow-colored patrol car.

"Oooh, I like that," Alice said, taking it from her.

"Seriously, guys. We should take this inside," I tried again, looking around nervously.

"Here, taste this," Irina said, ignoring my protests as she held a little stick up to my face. I immediately leaned back and away as she tried to shove the thing in my mouth. She actually managed to touch my lips with the tip before I put my foot down.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm not sticking any of your mysterious sex-toy funk in my mouth unless we go inside," I said loudly, causing Alice to sigh and replace her toy inside the trunk. I looked at Irina. "And just so you know, you're acting an awful lot like Peter right now."

Irina looked downright offended. She slammed her sex-toy chest closed and glared at me.

"You take that back," she said threateningly.

"No."

"Take it back or I'm giving Peter your phone number."

"Are you serious? I'm just…fine! Ugh! I take it back," I huffed.

But I got my way. She pulled her chest from the trunk and we made our way back inside, where she spread out each toy on Alice's kitchen table and explained their purpose. I eventually did taste the little goop sample, only to be told it was an edible lotion that numbs your throat so that you won't have a gag reflex. When I asked what in the hell I'd need it for – or more importantly, who I'd need it for - she and Alice just exchanged knowing glances.

I won't lie and say Edward didn't come to mind. Thinking about numbing my throat so I could deep-throat someone naturally led me to wonder how big his package is, and whether the cream would be necessary. Because honestly…he's good-looking, has a great personality, and he's a doctor. A fine catch to those who don't normally dislike doctors, so he must have something wrong with him. Right?

Although he certainly didn't feel tiny pressed against my thigh… but now is not the time to let my mind wander down that road.

"Here," Irina said, handing me a large vibrator. "This one's the Rabbit. A classic. You'll love it, Bella, I promise. Oh, wait!" She pulls out a slightly wider, longer vibrator. "Scratch that. The Magic Monarch is the way to go. Go big or go home," she said, turning it on. Little beads on the head of the "penis" started spinning and the entire tip began wiggling in circles like a worm or something. It was kind of repulsive looking, yet strangely, I was still a little turned on.

That must be the lack of literal screwing talking. It took surprisingly little persuasion, and before I knew it, I was the proud owner of my very first cock-shaped vibrator.

I haven't used it yet, but Irina claimed it's the answer to every single woman's dream. It's now tucked safely inside my panty drawer, peeking out at me every time I go to get a clean pair of undies.

Edward returned to work on Tuesday, and to my surprise, he had to work the night shift. He explained this to me later when we spoke briefly spoke on the phone.

"Nobody wants to work the night shift," he had said. "So we have to take turns. There has to be a hospitalist at the hospital at all times."

"Who did it last time?" I asked.

"Dr. Martin. He's working second shift now."

"So if there's always a doctor there then are you on call on your days off?"

I recalled that he was never paged during our dates or any of the time we spent together. I didn't think much of it then, but it seems kind of odd considering his profession.

"Nope," he said happily. "I'm only on call when I'm actually at the hospital. Being a hospitalist has its downsides, but let me tell you… I definitely don't regret not being paged in the middle of the night."

But it did mean he has to work night shifts, which means I haven't seen him for several days. But to make up for it, we now text each other often. It started out casual, with a text here and there, until we were eventually text-flirting all throughout the day. He texts me goodnight every evening – even if I'm already asleep – and my stomach flutters every time.

At the end of the shift, Emmett sneaks away before I have a chance to talk to him. Not surprising. He usually asks me if I need help with anything, but obviously the little scandal I witnessed earlier changes things. I try calling him, but he doesn't answer. Once again, not surprising.

I look at my watch on the way out. Seven-thirty. Edward won't be in for two and a half hours, and his shift will be over right before I come in.

Four days and I already miss him.

This isn't good.

-x-x-

The week drags. I finally get to see Dr. Ellis up-close when she stops by to round on one of her patients. She's tall, with long, wavy red hair and flawless skin. She even wears heels.

She's kind of perfect – tall, beautiful and feminine – and I hate her for it.

It's strange that I feel this way. I don't want to hate her, but it's a completely unintentional feeling. I can't just not hate her. But then I catch her smiling at Aro and, yep, she's nice and I hate her.

I have no idea if she knows I've been talking to Edward. She doesn't acknowledge me, but I don't acknowledge her either. Then again, it's always possible that she does know and just doesn't care.

She's gone before I can figure anything out.

On Tuesday morning – more than a week after my night with Edward – I'm floated to another floor. It's standard practice for the hospital to pull nurses when a floor is short-staffed. No one ever wants to do it, but no one gets the luxury of choosing when to go. Today, it's my turn.

Aside from an occasional text, I haven't spoken to Edward in several days. But I find out he's working today when I hear one of the other nurses announcing that she paged him. Just hearing his name gets me worked up, and knowing that he's here suddenly makes my job much more enjoyable.

I bid my time, staying quiet and keeping busy. And then I see him. As I'm leaving my patient's room, I spy him sitting at the nurses station, a chart open in front of him as he speaks with another doctor. I'm not close enough to hear what he's saying, yet I realize it doesn't matter so long as said doctor doesn't have long legs, shiny hair, and a fuckable rack.

I slow my walk down the hall, not sure I want to be seen just yet. It's been over a week since I've seen him and for a moment, I just want to observe. He's wearing a blue scrub top covered by a white lab coat, and it dawns on me just how sexy it is that he always chooses the comfort of scrubs over the pretentiousness of a suit or dress clothes. He also has on his glasses again, but they don't make him look nerdy.

Well, maybe just a little. But they're cute. Endearing. And strangely, sexy as hell.

Maybe something is wrong with me. I never thought I'd be the type of girl to be so turned on by a guy in glasses. I had broken down and used my Monarch – leading to a fun, exciting, albeit solo night – but just looking at Edward makes me feel virginal again, and I shift uncomfortably where I stand as I wonder, once again, how big his package is.

God, I'm so inappropriate. This is certainly not the time or place to be imagining my coworker's package.

Eventually, he stops talking to the other doctor and begins flipping through the chart. Deciding to have a little fun, I walk up to the station until I'm standing directly in front of him, with just the counter between us. He doesn't see me for at least a solid thirty seconds, and I just stand there, waiting patiently and possibly looking like a creeper as I stare down at him.

When I see another nurse cock an eyebrow at me, I decide to clear my throat and speed things along.

"Ahem."

Edward looks up and does a double take. Then his face breaks into one of the most breathtaking smiles I've ever seen, and my insides turn to goo on command.

I'm freakin useless.

"Hey," he says. "What are you doing here?"

"Working," I reply. "Apparently I've been exiled from the fourth floor for the day."

"Banished to the second floor?"

"Something like that." He smiles, and I look at his glasses while wondering if I should say anything. He went all self-conscious on me last time and took them off, which is ridiculous.

But it seems I can't help myself. "Your glasses are really cute."

He grimaces before reaching up and removing them, just as I imagined he would. "Yeah, I hate wearing them."

"Why?"

"I look ridiculous in glasses, for starters."

I frown at him. "I just said you look cute, not ridiculous."

"What, cute in a Christmas Story kid kind of way?" he asks skeptically.

I roll my eyes dramatically and move around the counter so that I can sit beside him. "They're just glasses, Edward. All the cool kids are wearing them now. Well, the cool, smart kids."

He snorts.

"Can you see without them?" I ask.

"I can get by," he answers. "I just can't read anything in the charts. And I'm not really supposed to drive without them," he says sheepishly.

"Don't you wear contacts?" I ask with a smile.

"Usually."

"And…?"

"And…I need to order some more," he admits. "Working nights has turned me into a slacker."

"You mean more so than usual?"

Hiding a smile, he lifts the front of the chart he'd been perusing to reveal the name. "Any chance you're taking care of Mr. Lowery?" he asks as he puts his glasses back on.

"Today is your lucky day," I say smugly. "Because right now, Mr. Lowery has the best nurse in the whole world."

"Is that so?" he says, amused. He lets the front of the chart fall back to the table and stands. "Care to round with me, best nurse in the world?"

"The best nurse in the world would love to round with you."

I stand and follow him down the hallway, making a quick turn into Mr. Lowery's room. I'm a little surprised when Edward greets the patient enthusiastically by his first name, Jared, and then when the patient's demeanor lights up as he spouts off an excited greeting of his own.

Mr. Lowery is a good-natured patient, always making jokes, and is extremely kind to the staff and never complains. He's a Vietnam War veteran who was exposed to Agent Orange and now has kidney failure as a result, and has been on hemodialysis for the past four months. While they usually place dialysis patients on the floor where I normally work – due to the fact that they do hemodialysis right down the hall – Mr. Lowery was admitted with chest pain and was subsequently placed on the cardiovascular unit.

"There's my man!" Mr. Lowery booms. "Decided to come join the rest of the world, I see? Getting a bit of sunshine?"

"What little sunshine there is in Seattle," Edward remarks. "How have you been feeling?"

"Just marvelous! Hard not to when you have the prettiest nurse in the hospital taking care of you," Mr. Lowery says, winking at me, and Edward smiles.

"What have I told you about playing favorites?"

"Pfft." Mr. Lowery waves his hand dismissively.

"I'm gonna have you lean forward just a little so I can listen to you," Edward says as he pulls his stethoscope from around his neck. He places it on Mr. Lowery's back and instructs him to take deep breaths, and I stand back silently, just observing.

When Edward finishes, he loops his stethoscope across his neck again. "No chest pain?"

"Nope. All better," Mr. Lowery says with a smile. "You think I can go home today?"

"Have you found a primary doctor yet?"

"Have you opened up your own practice?"

"Nope."

"Then I think we both know the answer to that one, Edward."

"I'm not planning on opening a practice anytime soon, Jared," Edward says sternly. "And you need to see a regular doctor."

"I do see a regular doctor."

"Coming to the hospital doesn't count. That's what we're trying to prevent."

"Trying to get rid of me?" Mr. Lowery leans over, searching for me. "Bella likes having me around. Don't you, Bella?"

"Of course, Mr. Lowery," I say with a smile. "But we also like you healthy."

"I am healthy! I haven't had a slice of bacon in months. You know what that's like?"

"I'm sure it's terrible," I say with a chuckle, then lower my eyes sheepishly when I realize Edward is looking at me. A moment later he turns back to Mr. Lowery.

"I'll have to look at the rest of your tests, but I think it'll probably be tomorrow before you get to go," he says. "Try not to scare Bella off with your flirting."

"Ah, she's a good sport," Mr. Lowery protests, and Edward smiles before turning to leave. I'm about to follow him when Mr. Lowery calls out to me. "Bella, you think you can unhook me so I can go to the bathroom real quick? I think today is gonna be my lucky day!"

Edward glances at me one last time before leaving the room, and I walk up to Mr. Lowery's IV pump and unplug it from the wall. "You know you have to push this to the bathroom," I say, lightly scolding him. "I'm still not gonna unhook you from your IV."

"Ah, well, it was worth a try," Mr. Lowery says as he slowly moves to get out of bed. Once he's sitting on the edge, he stays there for a second.

"So what's going on with you and Edward?" he finally asks, surprising me.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw the way you looked at each other."

I shake my head, holding out a hand to help him up. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"When you started laughing I thought I'd have to do naked cartwheels to get him to pay attention to me again," he says, slowly standing up. "Not that he'd willingly look at that, of course. But there's nothing like a good train wreck to grab someone's attention." He grabs the IV pole and begins pushing it along.

"Are you jealous, Mr. Lowery?" I tease.

He slowly totters towards the bathroom, the old wheels on the IV pole moving noisily across the floor.

"Absolutely," he answers.

-x-x-

Wednesday morning, and I'm back on my regular floor. Emmett is working and I take another stab at trying to get some information out of him, but he won't budge. Now he just sort of pretends like he doesn't know what I'm talking about - like I hallucinated the whole thing. Like if he just ignores it long enough, it'll all go away.

Denial, denial, denial.

Fucking with Emmett hasn't really lost its charm yet, but I decide to let it go for now. It really works best in small doses. I'm standing at the counter of the nurses station searching through a chart for an order when someone comes up beside me.

I turn to find a tall man with short, choppy brown hair and a set of gray eyes. He's well-built, but not overly so, and is donned in red scrubs with a taped-up, decorated walker propped against the side of the counter. He smiles down at me.

"Hey. Are you Bella?" he asks.

He's good-looking. I'm not gonna lie. But he must not be my type, because I don't feel the same pull that I do when I look at Edward.

Some of my hair has fallen loose from my tie and I tuck it behind my ear. "Yeah," I reply.

"I'm Garrett from PT. I was going to walk Mrs. Green," he says. "Is she alright to get out of bed?"

"Oh…um, yeah. She's fine." My reply sounds awkward. He grins at me.

"You must be new," he states.

"Well I've been here over a month," I point out. "But yeah, I'm still pretty new."

"I see. Well I work at the rehab. I just fill in here part-time sometimes."

"Oh, okay," I respond, returning his smile with a small one of my own. I start to turn back to the chart I was looking at, but his voice grabs my attention again.

"Do you like it here so far?"

I peek up at him. "Yeah, it's nice."

"Honestly?" He raises an eyebrow at me, and I laugh.

"Yes, honestly. Why wouldn't I like it?"

"No reason," he says with a grin. "Where did you work at before?"

Our conversation continues this way, him asking me simple questions and me answering. He's nice. Flirtatious, even. And I don't shun him away, because he's easy to look at and sometimes some innocent flirtation is good for the soul. My soul, at least; it's harmless.

He eventually takes his walker and makes his way down the hall. I'm still smiling lightly as I return to my chart, and then I look up to discover Edward sitting at a table.

He's not looking at me. His hand is in his hair, scratching his head, and he looks tired. And he's not looking at me.

This has to be on purpose. I'm standing in plain view, so surely he saw me when he entered the nurses station. He would normally talk to me – he'd say something to me when he entered, or try to catch my eye when he thought I may be looking. This seems out of character, and I can't help but suspect that it has something to do with the cute physical therapist that was just chatting me up.

I wonder if what I did was wrong, but I can't see the harm. It was just talking. Being friendly. The guy was cute, but that doesn't make it any less appropriate, right? A man is a man. And I felt no attraction towards him either way, so his looks are kind of irrelevant. And anyway, Edward and I aren't even dating, so I'm not sure why it would matter. And maybe it doesn't. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

I take the chart and walk across the counter, plopping down in the seat across from Edward. He looks up and smiles tightly, but that's it. No breathtaking grins today.

"Hey," I say quickly. "How are you?"

It seems like such a generic question, but I really don't know how else to start the conversation. Everything feels tense now.

"Good," he replies, rubbing beneath his eye and immediately going back to his chart.

And that's it.

I stare at him a moment, wondering if I really have anything to do with this sudden behavior change. Not everything is about me, after all. Maybe it's something else.

"Are you okay?" I press.

"Why wouldn't I be?" His tone is quipped and short, his answer a little off. I sigh in frustration. If I wanted to deal with this sort of insecurity I would have jumped his bones a long time ago. Maybe getting laid would make it worth it.

"Because you're practically ignoring me," I point out.

Edward looks up, frowning. "Why? Because I'm not lavishing you with all my attention right now? I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"Are you mad at me?" I ask in disbelief.

"Is there a reason for me to be mad?"

"No. But you're acting kind of childish."

Edward just sighs and stands up. "I have work to do, Bella," he says dismissively, walking away. I can feel my anger bubbling as I watch him retreat down the hallway because he has no right to be mad at me about anything. I've been nothing but honest with him this entire time, and I made it perfectly clear that we're not dating.

And even if we were dating, does that mean I'm not allowed to talk to another man? I may have laughed a little, but damn, can a girl not laugh now without getting the third degree?

I'm starting to get flashbacks of my relationship with Alec, and it's not a pleasant experience.

I consider following Edward so that I can confront him in the hallway, but I don't get the chance. A thin, balding doctor with a large nose walks out of the nurses station and poignantly calls, "I'll need the nurse to meet me in Mrs. Austin's room." His voice is pretentious, and he doesn't wait for anyone to respond or even acknowledge that they heard him.

Mrs. Austin is my patient. I roll my eyes and turn to Emmett, who's sitting at a computer a few feet away.

"Who is that?" I whisper to him.

"Dr. Byers," Emmett answers, cutting his eyes at me. "He's an ass, so don't cry and shit if he makes you feel stupid. I know how you women can be."

"Shut up, asshole," I hiss, moving to follow the doctor down the hall.

"I love you too, Pockets," I hear Emmett call, and I shake my head and ignore him as I disappear inside the patients room. Dr. Byers is already talking to her, completely ignoring me as I enter.

"We're going to need to get a stat CT of her head," he finishes up, not even looking at me. "I need the results called to me asap."

"Alright," I answer, and he walks briskly out of the room. I roll my eyes while I wonder why I even needed to round with him and then return to the nurses station. Edward still isn't back, and Jessica isn't anywhere to be found. She's been MIA for at least twenty minutes. I sit down in her seat and order the CT.

Dr. Byers starts barking off lab orders and scans that he needs and claims aren't on the chart. I know they're there, because I looked at them earlier, but I print them off without arguing. He then begins complaining that the I's and O's aren't recorded correctly, and a blood pressure was low in the middle of the night, so why wasn't he called? I explain to him as calmly as I can that it wasn't my shift and agree to write up an incident report on the poor nurse who gave me report this morning.

The CT tech calls me shortly afterwards and asks if Mrs. Austin will be receiving hemodialysis soon, because her creatinine is too high to receive contrast dye otherwise. But she isn't a hemodialysis patient. I reluctantly relay the message to Dr. Byers.

"Did you not just round with me?" he asks, obviously annoyed. Edward has taken his seat back at the other side of the nurses station and I kind of just want to melt away and die. I hate being demeaned, especially in front of him.

"I don't remember you saying anything about her creatinine, Sir."

"I said I was aware of her creatinine and we're going to do it anyway."

"Okay, well you're welcome to explain that to the radiologist, because he's refusing to do it. Want me to get him on the phone for you?" I try to keep the edge out of my voice, but judging from the lethal look Dr. Byers gives me, I'm not so sure I'm successful.

"Why the hell would I need to explain it to him? I ordered the test and she's having dialysis tomorrow."

I just stand there for a moment, wondering if I've missed something. I can feel Edward's eyes on me and I hate it. Finally, I say, "But she doesn't even have a dialysis access…"

Everything happens so fast I barely see it coming. Dr. Byers turns to me angrily, whipping the chart through the air at lightning speed. It spins and grazes my leg – not enough to hurt, but enough to shock the hell of me – before crashing into the chart rack and exploding into a million loose papers.

Damn, that's going to be a bitch to put back together.

Dr. Byers is on his feet and in front of me before I can even react, his face an alarming shade of puce as he screams at me. He's tall, and too close, and I honestly feel a little bit frightened as I stumble back a step and blindly try to put some space between us. He's spewing on about how he's the doctor and I'm the nurse and how it's his patient, not mine, and suddenly Edward is between us, creating a protective wall between me and the balding wrath that's all but threatening my life right now. He's telling Dr. Byers that he won't continue to talk to me this way, and Dr. Byers is still spouting off angrily, his misplaced anger now directed at Edward.

A cluster fuck has ensued. Kate, the charge nurse, has barreled into the nurses station to find out what's going on. Emmett has swooped in and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me far away from the potential violence. Garrett is standing with Mrs. Green, who's hunched over her walker in the hallway, and they both stare gapingly at the scene. Jessica has her mouth hanging open and is practically salivating at the sight, and I want to claw her stupid beady eyes out.

As soon as Edward realizes I'm out of harms way, he backs away from Dr. Byers, clearly not looking to fight. Dr. Byers looks like he's won a small victory when Edward walks off, his horrid face slowly returning to a more normal color.

Kate is trying to reason with Dr. Byers, but he isn't having any of it. He walks out of the nurses station, demanding that we call him when the chart is put back together.

Asshole.

Kate calls the nursing supervisor and complains for a few minutes, then hangs up and finds me. "We're reporting him," she says angrily, matter-of-fact, and all I can think to do is nod.

Edward has resumed his seat, still not looking at me, and he and Emmett are talking. He must still be upset with me. He would have done what he did for anybody.

Humiliation, anger, and sadness overwhelm me as I trek down the hallway, searching for a quiet place to clear my head. I disappear inside the linen room, wrapping my arms around my chest and blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears. I sigh in aggravation when I hear the door handle moving, but then Edward pushes his way inside just a second later.

His face is molded in concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, quickly making his way over. I shake my head and turn away from him, trying to hide my traitorous, watery eyes. "Did the chart hit you? Are you hurt?"

"No," I spit out. "I'm not hurt."

"God, Bella, I'm sorry. He was out of line. You're going to report him, right?"

I just shrug my shoulders. I do plan on reporting him; I just don't want to give Edward the satisfaction of knowing. I'm being a bitch. But I'm angry, even if irrationally so.

I fucking hate doctors. Even green-eyed gorgeous ones that feel insecure in their cute-ass fucking glasses.

"Bella, look at me." Edward cups my cheek, turning my face towards his. His body is close to mine, the skin of his hand warm. "Talk to me," he says.

"No." I try to turn away from him, but he tightens his grip.

"I'm not going anywhere until you talk."

I sigh, and then my verbal filter explodes. "Why the hell are you mad at me just because I talked to another guy?" I ask. "Am I not allowed to talk to anyone else now? I've been completely honest with you. I've told you how I feel, what I'm ready for. And now you're not being honest with me."

"I'm not being honest?" Edward says is disbelief. "Fuck, Bella. I've been nothing but honest here. Nothing but patient. I've told you everything I want, yet you still run around trying to resist everything you know is right. I have absolutely no claim on you because you won't let me. There's nothing stopping you from running off with some other guy."

"I'm not running off," I argue. "And I'm not forcing you to wait on me. You don't have to be miserable just because I need a little time to get my shit together."

My own words gut me, but they're true. I don't want him to be miserable. But in retrospect, I could clearly imagine myself launching into his arms, forgoing all of my decisions, if it kept me from losing him.

The clarity of my revelations is shocking. Edward holds all the power here. Should he pull away, I will follow. Should he wait for me, I will heal. I'll be able to move on from my failed relationship with a clear mind and a fresh start. There'll never be any doubt as to whether Edward is just a rebound, just the guy I'm using to get over a past failure. He doesn't feel this way to me, but can I really know for sure? Everything is so intense. My feelings for him are intense, and I can't make heads or tails of what it all means.

Either way, I am his.

"What?" he asks sarcastically, pulling me from my thoughts. "Because a meaningless fuck is more important?"

I look up at him in surprise, my eyes questioning.

"God, Bella." His lips press against my forehead. He's so close, so warm. I move just a little closer to him. "How stupid do you think I am?"

Before I can answer, he pulls my face to his roughly, crashing his lips to mine. As soon as my lips part, his tongue is slipping past, invading every inch. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, and his fingers twist in my hair to lock me in place.

The kiss isn't sweet or tender. It's forceful, hungry, and we devour.

And I am his.


Medical lingo/whatever-you-wanna-call-it explanation:

PT - physical therapy

Creatinine is a lab value that detects kidney failure. When it's up, you're kidneys are not working the way they should be. Contrast dye given during a CT scan (cat scan) is excreted by the kidneys. If your kidneys are not working properly and you increase their workload, they have a greater potential to completely fail or worsen. CT scans can be done without contrast dye, but you don't get as good of an image.

Hemodialysis is done when a person is in complete kidney failure. In short, the dialysis nurse (the nurse must be trained and qualified) hooks the patient up to a machine which pulls all the patient's blood from their body, filters it of all the waste (something the kidneys would normally do), and puts it back in their body. Without dialysis, a person with complete kidney failure would die. Quickly.

If Dr. Byers had been correct about the patient receiving hemodialysis in the morning, then it would have been okay for the patient to receive the contrast because it would have been filtered out of the patient's body via dialysis. However, as Bella pointed out, the patient did not have a dialysis access, which is something placed by either a nephrologist or surgeon in the patient so that dialysis can be performed. Some accesses can be placed at the bedside by the nephrologist while others are surgical procedures, depending on which kind of access it is.

And that concludes my lesson for today. Pop quiz next week. LOL.

-x-x-

Thank you X 1000 to passionmama, ms-ambrosia, and all my readers and reviewers. You guys are awesome. Reviewers are getting another outtake this go round, but I'd like to point out real quick that if you hate reviewing for whatever reason, all outtakes will eventually end up in the outtakes section on my profile. I just don't know when. Reviewers get them first as a thank you for sharing their thoughts.

Apparently FF still butchered my picture link last chapter despite my (dots). Let's try again: http : / / i988 . photobucket . com / albums / af10 / mybluesky / seattle . jpg - Just delete the spaces.

I haven't given up on my outline, but it's still shamefully unfinished. If I had to guess, I'd say this story will probably be 25-30 chapters total.

I'm mybluesky1 on twitter for teasers and updates.

Still sticking to my every 2 weeks posting schedule for now. If I can get them out sooner, I will.

xo