A/N: Some important stuff goes down in this chapter, so...yeah, I think that's a good thing. Edward is changing, slowly but surely. It's his own process, but Bella is a strong influence. I'm keeping their dating/relationship history vague, but this may come up later.

Um, some random info about me and myself and its relevance to this story: 1) I usually write in the hospital cafeteria, because it's pretty quiet there at night. It's a strange place, though. 2) All places/parks/neighborhoods I mention in SF are real. 3) My description of the hospitals is pretty accurate. 4) The stethoscope has secret powers - don't ask. 5) I know that pulses are measured in arteries, not veins (but "veins" sounds better in a romance, you know?).

Also, Carlisle and Esme are Edward's biological parents - I didn't mean to cause any confusion (I'm having Edward call him by his first name because it sounds cooler that way, haha).

Note that Platt is Esme's maiden name in Twilight.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

***

Chapter 14: The Exam Table

EPOV

I managed to leave Carlisle on civil terms, although he didn't mention Esme again for the rest of the night. Nor did he mention Forks, although he had achieved his goal of planting the idea in my head, as if there were any chance whatsoever that I would take it. I could never go back there. Too small, too familiar, too isolating. I would never be Carlisle Cullen, the small-town doctor with a perfect family. He knew it, but he had asked me anyway. I guess I couldn't entirely blame him.

I managed to shake off the whole encounter by the time I woke up on Tuesday morning, greeted by bright sunshine and the sound of rush-hour traffic outside my window. I woke up with an unfamiliar, anxious feeling in my stomach, and I wondered what the hell I could possibly be nervous about.

I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled into the shower. I wanted to kill mornings. Just eradicate them, forever if possible. Life would be so much better that way.

I was still groggy with sleep when I put on a suit and climbed into my Volvo, which purred to life with its usual long, slow hum. I walked in through the back door, as usual, and found Brandon standing outside my office.

"Good morning," she said, smiling brightly.

"Hi Alice," I said, and her smile disappeared instantly. It took me a second to register her reaction, and I swallowed hard when I realized what I'd done. Shit. I was spending way too much time with Jasper, who talked about her at every possible opportunity.

"It's no use," I said, pulling myself together. "Jasper talks about you all the time. 'Alice' is in my head now."

"It's okay," she said. "I'd like it if you used my first name."

"All right," I said, reaching my hand out to her. "I'm Edward."

Her radiant smile returned, and she shook my hand firmly. "Alice," she said.

"Great to meet you, Alice. Now, what's on the agenda for today?"

"Two new admissions," she said, flipping through her notes. "And you have a few consults."

"Sounds scintillating," I commented dryly.

"As always," she agreed, and I followed her down the hall to see the first patient.

As soon as I stepped into the exam room, the nervous twist in my stomach suddenly made sense. In twelve hours, I would see Bella again. Not as a patient, not as a colleague, but…just Bella.

I liked the thought of that.

***

The day passed slowly, as I knew it would. I finally managed to escape Alice's clutches at 6:30, and by the time I got home, I had only a few minutes to shower, change, and look presentable. I felt like I should have put some more thought into this. What the fuck did people wear on dates? It wasn't exactly my forte.

I showered frantically and shook my hair dry, figuring that the tepid San Francisco air would do the rest. I could probably use a shave, but hell, I didn't think Bella would mind the five o'clock shadow. I threw open the doors to my closet and scanned the racks, which looked woefully…businesslike. I wore different variations on the same thing to work every day, and given how many hours I spent at the damn place, I didn't own much else. I let out a low, frustrated groan.

I looked at my watch, realized I was dreadfully late, and picked out a pair of black slacks and a dark brown shirt, which probably clashed, but I wasn't exactly a fashion guru. I threw on a sports jacket and headed out the door into the night, hoping that a short ride in my car would calm me, as it usually did.

San Francisco is a tiny place when you look at it on the map, and Bella was only a few minutes' drive away. I thought about taking a detour, but I was already late, and I was acting like a kid on his way to the prom. I wondered if she felt even remotely the same way.

I pulled up in front of her apartment, killing the engine on her quiet, shady side street. This street was one of the most beautiful in the city, and it overlooked the downtown to the east and lush, rolling hills to the south. There was a smaller hill just a quarter-mile down the road, and if you climbed it, you could see for miles in every direction. I wondered if Bella had ever ventured there, to admire the city lights she so loved. I wondered what it would be like to take her there.

I climbed the steps slowly and rang the bell, feeling the blood humming in my veins as I waited for someone to answer. I heard a slight pattering on the stairway inside, and I took a deep breath, and ran my hand through my damp, tousled hair.

When she opened the door, that deep breath morphed into a shocked gasp, because holy hell, she looked positively stunning. I was so used to Bella in her charcoal suits and messy ponytails, which also looked amazing, but tonight she looked…well, she didn't look at all like a pediatrician.

"Hey," she said, almost shyly. Her thick chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, resting just beneath her collarbone. The luscious scent of fruit and freesia infused my senses, and I knew that breathing normal air would never be the same.

"Hey, Bella," I said finally, as my lips curved up in a smile. I couldn't help it. She looked so fucking beautiful, it made my head spin. "You look…incredible."

"Thank you," she said, a delicate pink rising in her cheeks. "Shall we go?"

She stepped out into the chilly night air, and crossed her arms instinctively. She had on a thin sweater, and her shoulders trembled in the breeze.

I opened the door for her and she climbed in gingerly, more so than usual. My clinical mind picked up on it, but I forced myself to push it away.

"I'm sorry I'm a bit late," I said, feeling like an idiot for making her wait.

"It's okay. Ten minutes is hardly late."

"Well, since I promised you otherwise…"

"Don't worry about it, Edward," she said in her soft, smooth voice. I noticed the slightest tremor in her words, and I thought for the briefest second that maybe she was nervous, too.

"I wasn't sure where to take you," I admitted, as we cruised down the steep hill. "So I decided on a friend's restaurant, which I go to often. I hope that's okay."

"Anything is fine with me," she said, brushing the hair from her eyes. "I always welcome a night off from cooking."

"Do you cook?" I asked, wondering where in the world she found the time. I had a feeling Bella was a marvelous cook; she struck me as the type that succeeded at anything and everything she tried.

"I try," she said humbly. "I'm horrible at baking, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

"I'll subject you to it sometime," she said, growing suddenly quiet. If she only knew how much I wanted to see her again, to guarantee another night like this, another time…

But instead I just nodded, and the subject changed to our lives on the wards, because that's what we did. Bella truly loved her work, and it showed in her voice, and her face, and her glowing smile. She was a gifted storyteller, the way she talked about children and parents and their various life stories. I could listen to her all night.

Ten minutes later, we pulled up to a tiny little place in Noe Valley, a quaint neighborhood nestled on the hill beyond the Castro. Even though it was almost 9 on a Wednesday night, the dining room was crowded with chattering patrons. The host recognized me immediately, and escorted us to a table in the far corner.

"Always good to see you, Edward," he said, as we sat down. "How is your father?"

"Good," I said, suddenly reminded of Carlisle's visit. "How is your family?"

"Excellent. Working hard as usual."

"I'm sure. You seem to be doing very well here."

"We're lucky," he said, scanning the room. "It's the Platt tradition."

I smiled at Bella, who looked completely lost. He poured us two glasses of complimentary Pinot Noir, and left us with our menus.

"Platt was my mother's maiden name," I explained, before she could ask. "Her family owns this restaurant."

"Oh," she said, her eyes a soft, penetrating brown. I wondered if she would press for details, if she would ask about my use of the past tense, but I had a distinct feeling Bella wasn't the prying type.

"It's lovely," she said, glancing around the room. "And judging by the crowd, I'm sure the food is very good."

"It is good," I agreed. "Well, I mean, I like it."

She smiled brightly, and took a languid sip from her glass. The waiter returned promptly, and she ordered what he suggested. I did the same, and he bustled into the kitchen, leaving us alone in our secluded corner, warmed by red wine and the cozy lighting of the room.

"Well, I don't want to leave you on edge about your tests," I said finally, leaning in slightly. Her expression tensed, which nearly broke me. I didn't bring her here to worry.

"They're normal," I said quickly, wishing her smile would return. "Everything is normal."

Her eyes actually widened a bit, as though she hadn't expected that. I wondered what had changed in the last few days; I wondered if something had happened…the way she had gotten in the car…the slow, careful steps she took…

"Is something wrong, Bella?" I asked, before I had time to think about it. She glanced down at the table, a shadow falling across her face.

"Can we talk about it later, Edward?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

"Will we?" I asked. Shit, I was worried now.

"Yes. I promise," she said, managing a smile.

"Okay," I agreed, because looking at her face, I had no other choice. If she had come here to forget something, to put it out of her mind, then I no choice but to grant her that.

Her smile brightened, but only for an instant before her pager went off. She glanced down and her face fell. When she looked up again, her expression was longing, apologetic.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I have to stop by the hospital."

"Don't worry about it," I assured her, hoping to ease the strain in her voice. "We'll get everything to go."

"Okay," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"You apologize too much," I scolded, but my tone was light.

"I know," she said in her lovely, quiet voice. "Rosalie tells me the same thing."

"No more apologies tonight. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, and her face brightened just a bit.

Our waiter gave us two boxes and we walked out the restaurant towards my car. A light rain had started to fall, and I was thankful that I had parked just across the street. I wanted to touch her, to wrap my arm around her and shield her from the cold, but I hesitated. I felt like there was some kind of barrier, some invisible line I didn't feel quite ready to cross.

I revved the engine and we sped toward the Mission, San Francisco's most diverse neighborhood, a patchwork of taquerias, bars, and thrift stores. The Mission was the pulse of the city, and the General was its beating heart.

"I'll park and wait for you," I said, as we pulled up to the turn-around.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I'm not sure how long I'll be."

"I'll be in the cafeteria," I said, struggling to remember exactly where that was. I hadn't been here in ages.

"If it takes hours—"

"I'll wait for you, Bella."

"Okay," she said, a soft, radiant smile gracing her face. "I'll see you soon."

***

I found the cafeteria after a quick self-guided tour of the hospital, which was just as I remembered it: anarchic, frenzied, and completely out of control. Oddly, though, the cafeteria was eerily quiet, and I found a table by the window, which looked out onto the streets below. It couldn't compare to the views from my hospital, but it was a window just the same. I could sit here for hours if I had to.

As predicted, I lost track of time, and I was startled by Bella's voice when she came up behind me.

"I'm back," she said, taking the seat beside me. Not across from me, but beside me. I took this as a good sign.

"Everything okay?" I asked, although my thoughts were clouded by the scent of her hair, and the heat of her body next to mine.

"More or less," she said, exhaling deeply. "It was Sam, one of my older patients. He's been here for a long time, and I worry about him."

"Is he all right?"

"Yes…well, now he is. He went into septic shock earlier tonight, and they're giving him a new round of antibiotics. It's so hard with the chemo…"

"I know," I said, sharing the grief in her eyes. Impulsively, I reached out and placed my hand on hers, and I felt every nerve in my body roar to life.

"I'm sor—" she began.

"Bella," I scolded.

She smiled, shaking her head in defeat. "Old habits are hard to break."

"I can't argue with that," I said, and my words held much more meaning than I had intended. She looked at me quizzically, but I changed the subject by unwrapping our boxes, which were cold but still smelled amazing.

"I'll heat these up," she said. "I don't want you wandering around, looking for the microwave."

She returned five minutes later with steaming hot food, and we sat by the window, enjoying the leftovers from my failed attempt to take her to dinner.

"Where's the wine?" she asked.

"Last I checked, they don't offer that to go," I remarked teasingly.

"Oh come on," she chided. "Doesn't Edward Cullen always get what he wants?"

"Not always," I said, meeting her gaze, her eyes burning with questions and uncertainty and unmistakable intensity.

"What do you want right now?" she asked, pushing her plate away, demanding my undivided attention. I happily gave it, although I couldn't suppress a sly, devious smile.

"I want to see what the exam rooms are like at the General," I said simply.

"Is that so?" she asked, in a tone that sounded downright sultry.

"Yes."

"Well then," she said, standing up. "Let's take the Bella Swan tour."

"Is it as good as the Edward Cullen self-guided tour?"

"Uh oh, you took a self-guided tour?" she asked, looking horrified.

"Yeah. I'm pretty proud of it. I ended up here, didn't I?" I teased.

"True," she smirked. "I'll see if I can do better."

It was nearly midnight, and the halls were uncharacteristically quiet, as Bella led me through the sinuous wards. I had a feeling she knew this place better than her own apartment, and while I was a bit taken aback by some of the facilities, she took comfort in its rawness. I had to admire her for that.

We made our way to the top floor, most of which was under construction. She stopped in front of one of the new exam rooms, and turned to me.

"Be prepared to be completely blown away," she said, her hand at the door.

"I am," I said, failing to suppress a grin.

We walked into the stark white room, which smelled faintly of disinfectant and wood chips. I noticed the brand new exam table and the flat-screen monitor, which was a definite improvement over the rest of the hospital.

"Very nice," I remarked, although my eyes had already traveled to her exquisite, form-fitting dress, outlined seductively in red. I had a feeling Rosalie played a part in this.

"Do you think so?"

"Yes," I said, momentarily embarrassed because my voice sounded strange. Too rough. Husky even.

"It looks like we ended up dining at a hospital cafeteria after all," she said, but her voice sounded different, too. Lower. Quivering just a bit.

"It wasn't my first choice, but I'm satisfied with it," I said, leaning against the exam table. She had her stethoscope around her neck, which contrasted nicely with the low rise of her dress. Instead of her two personas warring, they seemed to compliment each other.

"Hmm," she mused, walking over to the sink, leaning against it so that our knees were almost touching. This wasn't exactly a large room.

"How the tables have turned," she said.

I read the devilish glint in her eyes, as she ran her fingers along the bell of her stethoscope.

"You can't use that on me, Dr. Swan," I protested, eyeing the object around her neck.

"Why not?" she asked, and her face fell infinitesimally.

"I'm not in a gown."

She smiled sheepishly, and her face flushed a glorious red. I wondered if it felt as warm as it looked. Goddammit, I was about to combust.

"Shall I step out?" she asked demurely.

"No," I said, and my voice was husky as all fuck now. "I don't need a damn gown."

She removed her stethoscope from her neck, but instead of putting it on, as I thought she might, she placed it carefully on the table beside her. She moved a little closer, and I could hear her breathing, which was coming in quick, nervous gasps. She reached out and placed her fingers lightly on my wrist, feeling the blood coursing through my veins.

"Wow," she said, clearly amused. I knew my heart rate was through the roof; hell, I could hear it thundering in my chest.

I took her wrist in my hand, feeling her own blood rushing beneath the surface of her skin, pulsing with life. She gasped at the contact, and she looked up, her eyes dark and deep and throbbing with the same need that I felt in her wrists. I answered that look in her eyes, urgently and completely, as I took her face in my hands and brought her lips to mine, savoring the taste of her as I gave in to every instinct and desire I had felt since I saw her for the very first time. And somehow, impossibly, the reality was better than any meager dream or fantasy I had conjured up. She felt like heaven on fucking earth.

I leaned back against the table, and she moved toward me, keeping her lips on mine, fighting for entrance to my mouth with her slick, wet tongue. I eagerly granted it, and she deepened the kiss with a desperate fervor. A low moan escaped her lips, and I coursed my hands down her body, indulging in the slender curves of her hips and the soft texture of her skin. She tasted like strawberries and flowers and rain, and I savored every detail of her mouth, her taste, her full, delectable lips.

I pulled her closer toward me, letting out a groan as she brought her hips against my raging erection. She whimpered at the contact, and I was fighting the urge to spin her around and set her on this exam table, hike up her glorious dress, and take full advantage of the doctor-patient relationship. But I had to balance that with the slow fire burning in my veins, the urge to explore her, to touch her everywhere, to pay her the slow, careful attention she so deserved.

At the same time, we were in an exam room of all places, and we couldn't risk it. Especially Bella, who was just a resident, who couldn't afford to suffer the embarrassment of getting caught abusing an exam table…

So I broke the kiss, somehow. I don't know where I found the resolve, but it was there somewhere, and when I pulled back, we were both panting heavily. She seemed to understand, although a part of me really wished she would protest. I had a feeling I could be easily persuaded to toss my conservative plan out the window and forget all about propriety. But Bella didn't argue; she just stood there smiling, her cheeks a lovely, dazzling pink.

"That was…nice," she breathed, a teasing smirk on her face. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her brow, as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Very nice," I agreed, recalling our earlier conversation. Her smirk widened into a radiant, irresistible smile.

"Also very inappropriate of me, as your doctor…"

"Yes, very inappropriate," I agreed. "So inappropriate, in fact, that I'd like to schedule my next appointment right now."

She giggled, and I couldn't help but grin. Hell, I'd like to book my next appointment indefinitely if that were possible.

"It's late," I said finally, after a long, but contented silence.

"It is," she agreed, replacing her stethoscope around her neck.

"Come on," I said, taking her by the hand. "I'll drive you home."

***

As we climbed into the car, I remembered Bella's promise to me earlier, and I almost wished I hadn't. I didn't want to bring it up now, not with her looking so unencumbered, and happy, and content.

But it wasn't long before she read the quiet silence, and the transparent concern that was probably etched on my face. She sighed deeply and turned toward me, resting her hand on mine.

"Edward," she said, her tone suddenly serious. "I made a promise to you earlier in the night, but I don't want you to worry."

Well, of course now I was worried. Really worried.

"Just be honest with me, Bella." I locked my eyes with hers, but she broke our gaze, finding solace in the city lights.

"I'm okay," she said, but her eyes betrayed her. "I will tell you sometime, but not tonight."

"Why?" I croaked. Esme's face flashed before me, and I felt my chest tighten at the memory. Esme, who had kept everything from me, to protect me. To make sure I didn't worry. And all along, all I wanted was the truth.

"I don't want tonight to be…like that," she explained. "Like you're the doctor, and I'm your patient. I just want to keep tonight…perfect. Because it was."

I didn't know what the hell to say to that, because if Bella thought tonight was perfect, then I didn't want to ruin it for her.

"It was for me, too," I said, which felt like the truest words I had ever spoken. She smiled sadly, her eyes dark as coal in the near blackness of the car.

I pulled up to her apartment, feeling that familiar emptiness rising in my throat. I could tell she didn't want to leave either, because she sat in the seat, her breathing calm and deliberate.

Finally she turned to face me in the stillness of the car, her skin a pale, fragile white in the shadows of the streetlamps, her expression conflicted. I wanted her to tell me everything, but I knew she wouldn't. Not tonight.

"Good night, Edward," she said softly, leaning toward me. She brushed her lips against my ear, and I felt a shiver down my spine.

"I had a lovely evening," she whispered.

She pulled back slightly, but I found her lips with mine, kissing her sweetly. It was soft and slow, like a reluctant good-bye, and she offered me one last smile as she climbed out of the car and walked up the stairs.

And then she was gone, and I was left with the image of her lovely face in my mind, and her sweet taste on my lips.

***

Oh snap, major Fail coming. It has to be so! Don't worry, I won't kill Bella off...this isn't The Little Mermaid.

I am not a proponent of sex on the first date (just a personal preference - I know it happens, etc. etc.). But this story is rated M for a reason, so...we'll get to that later.

Please, please review! I was so nervous about getting their first date right, and I hope it was okay. Thank you!!