Disclaimer: Twilight and all related elements © Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company 2005. All characters and situations—save those created by the author for use solely in this fan fiction—are copyright Stephenie Meyer and are used without permission. No profit is made off this story and is for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: I'm sorry whoever gets this twice. seemed to eat the latest chapter after it's little reboot last night. Oo
A series of vignettes set during either Twilight or New Moon, from prompts given by members of Topaz & Debussy over on LJ.
This one's for Kyrene once Blood Roses, who wanted something with Charlie!
oOo
There were three things in the world that Charlie Swan truly loved with all of his heart.
One was an escape from the reality of everyday living; the time where he could sit and contemplate irrelevant trivialities and let go of the troubles that belonged to Forks' Chief of Police and Charles Swan. On the lake everything seemed to melt away, the waters and quiet bringing nature sharply into focus, cutting out all extraneous thought. It was a long cherished (and secret) wish that someday he could retire somewhere along these banks that he frequented so often, find peace. Some days the lake seemed so far away.
The second thing he loved he no longer allowed his mind to dwell upon, even for the briefest moments. Thinking her name now only provided small pangs of regret and pain, compared to the deep bouts of depression that were mainstays in the years following his divorce. Not bad for nearly nineteen years of work.
The third was Bella, of course.
His daughter, so much like Renee (he felt wistful) and yet even more like himself at times. He knew; Bella had never felt things like Renee felt things- glorious heart on her glorious sleeve, emotions high in her throat. Bella swallowed her emotions, kept them close, much like Charlie did.
Charlie blinked, surprised at himself. He wondered what the guys at the station would say if they could see Chief Swan now, sitting about like a daft moon-eyed poet, moping about feelings.
His daughter was sitting next to that Cullen boy, limbs curled up in an effort to be as close to him as possible without looking as if that was her intent. She probably thought it was an extremely subtle maneuver. As if Charlie hadn't ever been a teenager once.
Edward Cullen. Charlie grimaced to himself, hating the fact that he was in the house again. He should have listened to Billy when he'd first warned him about his daughter's new boyfriend, but his friend had seemed so sporadic, so strange in his warnings. And the Quileutes and the Cullens had never gotten along, for whatever reason. Charlie assumed it was something to do with an old feud over land; the reservation elders had long memories and the Cullens surely had never gone out of their way to ingratiate themselves with anyone in Forks.
Still, he was grateful to Dr. Cullen and to Alice for all they had done for Bella. It was this boy he could not forgive. He wondered how Bella could have, after what he had done to her.
The clock that sat atop the television blinked, showing 10:01. Aha.
"It's ten, Bella," Charlie said nonchalantly, looking at the television screen, trying to chase out the note of triumph out of his voice.
He heard Bella give a pained sigh, the couch shift underneath as the two teenagers- children- stood. He watched them out of the corner of his eye.
The Cullen boy turned, leaned in close to whisper something to Bella, and Charlie coughed. Bella shot him an angry glare.
"I'm going to walk Edward to his car, okay Dad?" she called, not waiting for his answer. Charlie turned grudgingly just in time to see her whip out the door, Cullen behind her. He sat back, eyes on the clock. He'd give her two minutes. That was fair.
The door slammed a few moments later, and Bella stalked back into the room. "I'm going to put away the rest of the food."
"All right."
Charlie had found himself buying pizza and other take out more often than late; it was the best he could do. He doubted vaguely that Bella ever minded- she had taken it upon herself to cook most nights ever since she'd first moved to Forks but since last summer and her- episode- Charlie had felt guilty about it. He wondered if she had burned out from it all- thinking she should take care of him, of school, her injuries from her little foray in Phoenix… she had become a walking shadow of what she had been when she first arrived.
"Is…Edward going to be here tomorrow?" He said, not bothering to turn around.
"You don't need to be so hostile, Dad," Bella muttered mutinously from the kitchen.
"I don't like that boy, Bella," replied Charlie sternly; feeling impotent all the same. "And I don't like him in this house, either."
"Fine, we'll stay out of the house."
"Bella."
"I'm going to bed. Good night, Dad."
Charlie exhaled, frustrated. He heard Bella go up the staircase, and then the house was quiet. Peaceful, he thought grumpily. Maybe he and Billy could make it up to the lake this weekend.