What's this? A midweek quickie chapter? My my. Just watch me not upload this weekend now.

If you'd just let me ramble at you for a moment…

The first chapter has now been rewritten and updated. You don't have to go back and reread it, basically the same stuff happens. However: a) it is now much better if I do say so myself, b) it now has the right tone and properly foreshadows stuff, c) it includes the scene where Bella turns if that tickles your pickle and d) I actually know what the Volturi arc is now, so it includes that. So if you wanna go look, go for it. Second chapter will probably be updated next week.

"Miss Platt! Good morning!"

Carlisle beamed and tipped his hat to the lady in question, crossing the road and leaving Peter to stare incredulously at his back.

She smiled sweetly. "Doctor Cullen! How are you this morning?"

He informed her that he was very well. "How are you? I have been meaning to ask how the raffle went!"

She snorted into an unladylike laugh. "Oh I'm sure it's been eating you up inside!"

"It has! I could barely sleep!"

Peter finally shook himself out of his stupor and crossed to join them, looking at Carlisle like he was speaking in tongues the entire time.

"Good mornin' Miss Platt," he said, "my brother and I were just runnin' some errands."

"Oh, me too!" she smiled. "My mother bought a great deal off a catalogue and has tasked me with picking it up. I am the mailman once again! But I have learned from last time, and intend to take several trips instead of risking it all with one."

"Well then please let us help!" Carlisle offered before Peter could.

She demurely agreed and walked to the post office at his side, leaving Peter to trail behind them wondering what he had missed.

Once Esme and her numerous packages had been deposited at her home, Carlisle did an about turn back into town.

Peter jogged to keep up. "You wanna explain what just happened? And where are we goin'?"

"Mr Platt's office."

"Why?"

"To apologise for missing his dinner a few days ago and invite him to our house for drinks."

"Wait, what?" Peter exclaimed. "Who are you and what have you done with Carlisle? Since when do you care about the Platts?"

"I have thought it through and had a change of heart," Carlisle said without looking back, "Miss Platt is a good person and I realised that discounting the possibility of any romantic relationship with a human or someone younger than Bella was foolish."

"Seriously?"

"I'm not saying I'll marry her, but I would like to get to know her."

"Bella's gonna have a heart attack…"

"This is a good thing, right?" Carlisle stopped and turned. "I'm doing the right thing? She's been struggling with something."

"You're not just doin' this because you think Bella wants you to, are you?"

"Well that's one part of it…" Carlisle hummed. "I trust her judgement, and she has far more insight than me. Clearly, Esme Platt is something in our future, and you obviously know about it. That's what made me consider the possibility. But the more I think about it, the better it sounds. She really is very nice."

"Very nice!" Peter scoffed, "Damn, Carlisle! Anyone would think you're thinkin' with your dick!"

Carlisle spluttered, caught between a laugh and righteous indignation. He started walking again, trying to pretend Peter never said dick in the middle of the street.

Mr Platt's secretary was a kind, but scatterbrained lady. She hastily greeted the two men, started up a hearty conversation with them about taxes, and forgot entirely that she hadn't informed her employer that they were there. He ended up coming out himself, hearing voices from his office.

He beckoned them in, interrupting his secretary's rant about the state of the roads. She followed them and grasped Peter's sleeve.

"Oh my, I forgot Mr Cullen! Do you need anything? A glass of water? A place to sit down? I do think it's so brave to be out with your condition!"

Peter's eyes dropped closed and he heaved a heavy sigh, he turned to give Carlisle the darkest of looks.

"No," he said, not taking his eyes off the man he wanted to mangle, "thank you."

Carlisle bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Mr Platt was, once again, blandly pleasant to talk to. He heartily accepted their offer of drinks that weekend, and insisted that his wife would throttle him if he didn't invite them to dinner in the meantime. Peter managed to back out with a vaguely believable excuse, Carlisle decided to just suffer through it. Perhaps it wasn't necessary, but it would most likely make Bella happy.

Bella was, indeed, ecstatic. She chose his tie for him, a lilac one he had never seen before. She set about tying it, even though he had been doing it himself for literal centuries, grinning to herself like a child at Christmas.

Carlisle's heart swelled at her barely concealed glee. "Shall I tell Miss Platt you said hello?"

Her wide eyes flit up to his face, she bit her lip and nodded. He hugged her extra tight on his way out the door.

The Platts were as warm and welcoming as he imagined, the mother seemingly overjoyed that the good doctor had finally joined them for a meal. He was sure the house would have smelled delightful, if he weren't a vampire that was forced to find the smell of warm bread and roast chicken repulsive.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, Esme was forcefully steered to sit next to Carlisle at the table. Her mother insisted that it was in case he needed anything. Esme blushed and smiled apologetically at him. He didn't mind.

Mrs Platt beamed at the assembled table.

"Might I say, that is a very nice tie Dr Cullen."

"Oh, thank you. My sister surprised me with it just today."

"It's a very interesting colour," the lady stared imploringly at her daughter, "wouldn't you say, Esme?"

Esme's blush deepened, she smiled sheepishly at Carlisle.

"Lilac is my favourite colour."

"Is it?" he grinned. "Then Isabella made a good choice."

Dinner was a lovely affair. Clearly a lot of additional effort had gone into it: from the food, to the decorations on the table, to Esme who looked particularly lovely. It was a little awkward at first, but after some prodding from her mother Esme told him about the books she liked and her newfound interest in botany. Being a doctor, Carlisle had many opinions on the subject and they found themselves discussing plants until the rest of the table moved on without them.

The food was a struggle. Carlisle truly felt bad that so much effort had gone into it. He moved it around, denied second helpings, and hid some in a handkerchief when no one was looking. The bits he did eat he managed not to choke on. He was rather proud of his poker face.

After dessert, he had a quick drink with Mr Platt and then joined the rest of the family in the sitting room. Esme had dug up a book on African flower types that he had not yet read, and they spent an hour looking over it together.

Later than was strictly proper, he finally took his leave. He shook Mr Platt's hand, thanked Mrs Platt for her splendid hospitality, clapped young Alexander on the shoulder and told him to come see him at the surgery one day; and couldn't help but press Esme's hand for a little too long, and drag his eyes off her as he turned to leave.

He walked home thinking of a pair of sparkling eyes, a soft smile, and a quick mind.

Then he threw up in a bush.