A/N: BIZZAM! Another update! And it's NOT 3 months later! WINNING! I don't own Twilight or its characters - they all belong to that vatican assassin warlock, Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 36

BPOV

"I'm going to kill her," Carlisle snarled, snatching the letter off the floor. "Anonymous complaint, my ass! That coward. If she wants to try and ruin my career, she should at least have the balls to slap her own name on it!"

"I don't understand," I said to him. "I though you said we were fine. How can she ruin your career? What is there to investigate?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, rubbing his temples. "But this isn't good, Bella. The Office of the Provost wouldn't send me this letter for an unfounded complaint."

"This is crazy! You aren't even my professor!" I protested as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. "Who are you calling?"

"First, I'm calling Dr. Meade. Then I'm calling an attorney."

"An attorney? Oh God, do I need an attorney?"

His fingers scrolled like mad over the small device. "I don't know."

"Fuck! I should have known she would do something like this, but then again, I also thought we were in the clear."

"We ARE in the clear. She obviously lied about us. This stupid 'investigation' will prove that. Hello? Dr. Meade? Yeah, hi, it's Carlisle Cullen."

He didn't give any indication that he wanted privacy for the call, so I sat down on the couch and nervously folded my hands together.

"Yes, I just got it today...I'm afraid I don't understand what the complaint is about...Are you serious?...No, I didn't lie to you...That's ridiculous, she was just helping me - she wasn't paid or anything."

Paid? What the hell was he talking about?

"Listen, I understand what this looks like, but I'm telling you - the girl who made this complaint is sick. She's Bella's former roommate and...I know the complaint was anonymous, but I'm not stupid - it had to be her, Maria!"

I could see Carlisle's face turning a deeper shade of red the angrier he became, and I shrank further into the couch with anxiety.

"Fine! Well, I'm calling an attorney, Maria. And I'd appreciate a little support from you. We didn't do anything wrong, and I intend to prove that...Goodbye," he snapped, before launching the phone across the room. Luckily, it hit the back of an armchair and fell with a soft thud to the seat cushion.

I looked at him expectantly. "So...?"

"So, the problem is...they believe you were my employee," he growled, raking both hands roughly through his hair. "And a relationship between employer and employee is 'expressly forbidden.'"

My mouth dropped. "Your employee? How was I your employee?"

"Apparently, you helping me with my book qualified you as my 'research assistant.'"

"That's what this is about?" I snorted angrily. "Well, some research assistant I turned out to be - we only met a few times for...wait."

"What?"

"Carlisle, I never told Angela I was helping you with your book."

He looked at me with confusion. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "I mean, she couldn't have known I was helping you with your book unless someone told her. Oh shit..."

"Oh shit, what?"

"Edward must have told her," I sighed, burying my face in my hands. "He knew."

"How the hell did Edward know?"

"Because...I kind of told him the story of how we met when Angela was getting her stuff out of the apartment."

"Jesus Christ, Bella, why would you do that?"

"I don't know! He asked me! How was I supposed to know it could be used against us?"

"It was none of his damn business in the first place!" I flinched as his voice shook the air in the room. "Now we don't know if it was that little maggot or Angela that made the complaint!"

"Don't yell at me," I glared at him. "I'm not the enemy! I know it was stupid, but Edward wouldn't do that to me."

"Right, because ex-boyfriends never try to fuck with their exes," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Not Edward. He said he was happy for me, and I believe him."

"So happy for you that he would give Angela the ammunition to use against us? Great. That's just wonderful."

He had a point. Why would Edward tell Angela what I had told him? It didn't make sense, but neither did him submitting the complaint either. But truly, it could only be one scenario or the other...

"You're right," I said softly. "I don't know what to believe. I need to call Edward."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied. "If he's the one who made the complaint, then speaking to him could just make things worse. He'll twist your words and use them against us."

"But I know Edward..." I started to say. But in truth, I didn't seem to know him anymore, did I? Whether he was the one who stirred up this shit or instead gave the power to Angela, he clearly wasn't the person I thought he was. "What do we do, then?" I asked helplessly.

Carlisle glanced at his watch and then slumped down next to me on the couch. "Well, I don't think I can speak to an attorney tonight, but I'll find one tomorrow and see what they say. So until then, all we can do is wait."

"I'm so sorry about all of this," I said after a minute. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

He seemed to soften, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "I know."

"But we are going to fight this, right? Angela, Edward, we're not going to let them win, are we?"

"Of course not," he assured me. "I'll get the best damn attorney money can buy, if need be, to straighten this all out."

"Carlisle, that's well and good for you, but what am I supposed to do? I can't afford an attorney, and I doubt my parents can either, let alone one of the best."

"Don't worry about it. I inherited plenty of money after my parents' death. I'm sure an attorney can represent the both of us, if needed."

"When is the investigation?"

"I'm not sure. It may have already started for all I know."

We drifted into contemplative silence, but after a few minutes, I swung my leg over his thigh until I was straddling his lap and pressed my forehead against his. "I hate this," I said softly.

"Me, too," he breathed.

My thumb absently swept over his bottom lip. "But whatever happens, happens, right? We stay together. None of this breaking up for the greater good bullshit, right?"

"Right," he said, gently capturing my thumb between his lips. "Trust me, I've learned my lesson."

"Good," I whispered, sliding off his lap. "One less thing to worry about." I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the black leather. "C'mon. Let's go upstairs."

"Bella, is this really the right time?"

"What? You'd rather sit down here and stew about something we have no control over right now?"

"No, I just don't know if I'm in the mood."

"That's fine," I replied, pulling the Aikman jersey up and over my head before gently flinging it in his face, "I don't know if I am, either. But like you said, we're not going to solve anything tonight, so I'd rather go to go to bed or have some fun before the shit storm hits us full blast."

"Well, when you put it that way..." he said, as I drew his hand over my shoulder, leading him toward the stairs.

"You know, Woody Allen once said that sex alleviates tension."

"He also said that love was the cause of it," he answered, following me up the steps. His now discarded belt fell with a resounding clunk to the floor.

xXxXx

There was a small knot in my stomach as Carlisle dropped me off at my apartment early the next morning with a kiss and a promise to call me as soon as he had talked to a lawyer. I tried to busy myself with a shower, some breakfast, and gathering my books for class, but the knot simply refused to yield. I tried to tell myself that everything would blow over, but those quiet nagging doubts kept creeping in. Who was I to say that even if we jumped this hurdle that Angela wouldn't just have another one waiting for us?

I reluctantly left for my classes and work, clutching my cell phone tightly in my pocket in case Carlisle called with news. I knew I'd eventually have to speak to my parents about what was going on, but ever the procrastinator, I wanted to wait until I had all the facts first. My mother would be supportive, of that I was sure, but my father...well, he was hard to read sometimes. When I'd told him of my relationship with Carlisle, he'd merely grunted his congratulations and then asked me what the weather was like.

My classmates were curious about my absence, and their constant inquiries about my hands only served to remind me of how quickly everything had fallen apart with Angela. Even my boss Nancy had a million questions about how it had happened and how I was feeling. I wanted to scream at all of them to just leave me alone, but I tried my best to keep calm.

Finally, I received a text message from Carlisle asking if it was alright to talk to me. I excused myself to Nancy, explaining that I needed some fresh air and wanted to take my break.

I wandered into the courtyard and found a small cement bench far enough away from the groups of students studying and chatting.

"So...what's the word?" I asked him hesitantly.

"Well, I talked to Dr. Meade this morning, and she referred me to an attorney - J. Jenks - who can advise us." I let out a small sigh of relief before he continued. "But since this is an internal investigation conducted by the department, he can't officially represent us."

"Well, that sucks."

"I know, but I told him about our situation and he feels that we have a strong argument - you weren't my student, you weren't 'officially' a research assistant, so I had no reason to disclose that to Dr. Meade when I told her about us."

"So why are they even bothering with an internal investigation? Can't we just tell them that?"

"All complaints have to be taken seriously by the University," he explained. "It not only protects the students and faculty, but the University itself. Anyone could make up the most ridiculous lie about me, like, I'm selling crack to my students during class, and the U would have to treat it like any other complaint."

"I see," I replied, managing a small laugh. "So what does this internal investigation entail?"

"Basically, it consists of a three-person panel, made up of neutral parties. They'll talk to me, and they'll talk to you, as well as the complainant - "

"Which means Angela, right?" I interrupted.

"Well, we can only assume it's her. The complainant remains anonymous unless they decide to have their identity revealed."

"Whatever happened to the right to confront your accuser?"

"This isn't a court of law, Bella. The University wants to encourage people to come forward with complaints - not just of this nature - without the fear of retaliation or harassment from staff or peers."

"Oh." Well, that made sense, I guess.

"So anyway, the panel will decide whether or not there lies a conflict of interest in our relationship, and what steps to take from there."

"Steps like what?"

"Well, if they find no conflicts, then we're free and clear...again, so to speak," he chuckled quietly. "But if they think that I lied about our relationship or that there is a conflict of interest, I could be disciplined."

My blood ran cold. "Disciplined? Like, fired? Can they do that?"

"They could, but that's highly unlikely based on the circumstances. But they can deny me tenure or a promotion, or they could file a grievance against me."

"Oh my God, a grievance? What the hell is that?"

"Don't worry about it, because I seriously doubt any of that will happen. According to Mr. Jenks, all we have to do is be honest, and he's sure they'll see that Angela's complaint is completely unfounded."

"I sure hope so," I sighed.

"That said, have you spoken to your parents yet?"

"No, not yet. I'm done here at the library at 4, so I'll probably call them afterward."

"But aren't you supposed to be getting your stitches out at 3?"

"Ugh, you're right," I groaned. "I completely forgot. I better go tell Nancy that I have to leave soon."

"Do you want me to pick you up and take you? I can skip my office hours today."

"No, that's okay, I'll just take the bus; it's not far. But thank you."

"Alright then, but be safe."

"I will. See you tonight?"

"Be there around 6. Love you."

"Love you, too."

I snapped my phone shut and closed my eyes. I sat on the cold cement bench for a few minutes longer, trying to convince myself that Carlisle was right. As scary as some of the outcomes had sounded, certainly the truth would prevail. If the panel was going to speak to Angela, it wouldn't be long before they saw that she was a girl with issues and a vendetta. They had to.

Nancy was completely understanding about my needing to leave early, "Poor thing," she had cooed while I gathered up my belongings. "You've got a lot on your plate, don't you?"

"More than you know," was my mumbled reply as I slipped out the door.

A/N: A most grateful thank you to my lovely ladies, uhyesplease and StormDragonfly. I love you more than I love making fun of Kristen Stewart - and that's a SHIT TON!