A/N: This is a short chapter, just a way to reconnect with Rosalie and get into Bella's head. Plus, I wanted to keep it light before it all hits the fan.

PE Skills = Physical Exam skills = I was tested on this recently, and my fake patient looked EXACTLY like Taylor Lautner. Oh man, what a weird day. Anyway, that was off-topic. haha.

Thank you for reading! And to those who reviewed, I'm thrilled with the positive feedback! You guys keep me motivated. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

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Chapter 11: PE Skills

BPOV

When I walked in the door to my apartment ten minutes later, Rosalie was lounging on the couch, watching a late-night marathon of The Girls Next Door. I hated to admit that I was the one who introduced her to that show, but seriously, it's quality programming. And Rosalie loved it, especially the focus on blondes.

"Hey, Rosalie," I said, flipping on the kitchen light. By the looks of it, she had been sitting on that couch for hours.

"Hey," she said, keeping her eyes on the TV screen. "So I'm thinking for my next job, I could try out for this show."

"Sounds great," I said, throwing my bag on the couch.

"It looks like the only two requirements are huge boobs and blond hair."

"Then you should try out. Hef would love you."

I walked into my room and changed quickly into sweats and a t-shirt, and joined her on the couch. I noticed her notepad with two columns, titled "Pros and Cons of Being on This Show." I started laughing and Rosalie turned to me, her eyes widening as she spoke.

"Holy hell," she said. "Where have you been?"

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious. I felt the familiar flush of embarrassment rise in my cheeks.

"For a 15-hour workday, you're practically glowing. Did you have a hot date you didn't tell me about?" she smirked, focusing her full attention on me. I started to wish she would scold me for laughing at her list.

"Um, no," I stammered. "And I'm not…glowing."

"Oh come on, Bella. Usually you come in here all huffy and pissed off and looking like an old hag. Tonight you tell me to try out for a part in Hugh Hefner's coven of busty ladies. And you thought I didn't notice, but you were smiling when you came in."

"I look like an old hag?" I teased.

"Oh, you know what I mean. You usually look tired. Don't change the subject."

"Ugh," I sighed, crossing my arms. I let out a little huff of frustration, because Rosalie had a gift for this kind of thing.

"I had a doctor's appointment."

"Ohhh," she said, grinning deviously. "Is that so?"

"Yes," I said, fighting a smile.

"Tell me about this doctor's appointment," she said, clearly meaning something else.

"It was a follow-up appointment for that fainting episode I had in the park."

"Go on…"

I could feel my cheeks burning, knowing that Rosalie was on to me and was not going to let this die.

"Well," I stammered, shifting in my seat.

"Oh come on, Bella, I already know about you and Edward Cullen. I want to hear more about this doctor's appointment, namely the physical exam part."

"Rosalie! How the hell do you know—"

"Emmett tells me things."

I knew Rosalie had seen Emmett twice over the weekend, and it made sense that she would ask about Edward. She wasn't nosy, just…genuinely interested. She always told me to date more, to worry less, to stop neglecting my "needs."

"What did he tell you?" I asked cautiously.

"He said you went to dinner with Edward on Friday night."

"Oh," I mumbled sheepishly. Rosalie looked a little hurt that I hadn't told her, and I started to feel guilty. "It was a business dinner."

"It was a birthday dinner."

"It was business for me, though. I didn't know anyone there," I protested.

"Bella, it doesn't matter. I mean, it matters because Edward Cullen is freakishly hot, and you should hit that, but it doesn't matter that you didn't tell me about your date."

"It wasn't a date!"

"Why are you in denial about this?" she asked, her eyes blazing, shattering my resolve. Sometimes I wondered what Rosalie would have been like as a doctor; she clearly did not tolerate bullshit. She probably would have used her stethoscope as a weapon.

"I'm not," I argued, staring blankly at the giddy blonde on the screen. I couldn't help but notice her horrific boob job, and the incompetent surgeon that had loaded her up with silicon—

"Bella," she said, snapping me out of it. "Look, I'll tell you about my dates if you spill about yours."

"You already told me every detail," I reminded her.

"Even when Emmett used his pen light to—"

"Yes, you told me about that."

"Okay, fine. Doesn't matter. At least tell me about tonight. Please?" she asked, sounding like a kid trying to get out of detention. I had a feeling she had used this voice many, many times for that very reason.

I sighed in defeat, and Rosalie smiled. I couldn't deny her, and as much as I hated to admit it, her cheery curiosity kept me grounded in reality, and reminded me that I had a life outside the wards.

"He wanted to see me for more tests, so I went after my shift to see him."

"Let's move to the physical exam."

"Oh my God, Rosalie," I said in sheer exasperation. "You're like thirteen!"

"I know," she said, chuckling mischievously. "But did you see his hands? I mean, whoa, to have those fine instruments roaming my—"

"It wasn't like that, Rose. He's a professional."

"I understand that, but come on, you're human. More importantly, you're a woman. So?"

"He did a brief exam," I mumbled.

"And?"

"Well, of course he has nice hands. He's a doctor."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean…you know," I managed, blushing furiously.

"Stop being all demure and shit and just spit it out, Bella! I'm dying here!"

"Well, yeah, of course I enjoyed it," I said, my voice so soft that Rosalie was leaning in to hear. "I've been examined a million times, but Edward...I don't know, it felt different."

"I bet it did," she smirked.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately for me, he knew it, too. He took my pulse and he had this strange look on his face."

"Maybe he thought you were going to combust from all that tension," she teased.

"Or maybe he was just amused that I was reacting to him like a typical teenager."

"No, I don't think that's it," she said, her tone more serious. "I bet he was using every bit of resolve he had to keep himself from flinging you down on that flimsy table and giving you an exam to remember."

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel my face on fire. Rosalie was smiling widely now, clearly amused by my discomfort. I had that image in my mind now, and my view of exam rooms would probably never be the same.

"It doesn't matter, Rosalie," I said, trying to think straight. "If I'm going to be his patient, then it needs to stay professional."

"Says who? Is there a manual for patient-doctor relationships? Give me a break, Bella."

"Plus, you know, he might be my boss someday, if I rotate at UC—"

"Do you always make this many excuses?" she asked.

"No, I just feel like…I don't know. He's closed off somehow. I couldn't be with someone who keeps things from me."

"I see," she said, slipping into a rare silence. I started to get antsy.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Emmett mentioned the very same thing to me," she said, studying my reaction. She spoke slowly and deliberately, as if for once, she was thinking about what she wanted to say. "No one really knows Edward."

"Exactly," I said. "Why would I be any different?"

"You are different, Bella. Emmett was floored by what Edward did that night at the club. He just doesn't do things like that, apparently."

"He would have done it for anyone," I mumbled.

"Bullshit," she retorted. "And you know it."

We sat in silence for a few seconds, while Rosalie stared me down. She was right, of course. But I still had my reservations—a lot of them.

"He asked me to dinner," I said finally, and Rosalie's eyes grew wide.

"When?" she pressed.

"Wednesday night."

"You said yes, right?"

I paused, letting her squirm for just a bit. She deserved it.

"Right?" she asked again.

"I said I'd go," I said slowly.

"Thank God," she said, exhaling in dramatic fashion. "It's a good thing I live with you, Bella."

"Why? So you can take advantage of my cooking skills?" Rosalie was a horrific cook, and I had a feeling her diet would consist solely of Chinese take-out and burritos if she didn't live here.

"Well, yeah, that's part of it. But no, this time I'm here to help you brush up on your dating skills."

"I have dating skills," I mumbled.

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. "In any case, we're going to start with your wardrobe."

"What about my wardrobe? I'm meeting him after work, I'll be in my usual suit—"

"Don't even tell me you were thinking about wearing a suit on a date."

"Well, I…maybe…" I muttered.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but we're giving the pediatrician in you a night off."

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