I'm sorry I've not been around since April. I'm not really going to be incredibly active right now either because I'm currently 90k words into a novel (I scrapped all plans of adapting this and it's an entirely new high fantasy book instead), but this is the 1st anniversary of this story and so... Please take the next chapter as a present.

Blue Moon Chapter Three

Carlisle was listening to Vivaldi's Winter when Carys entered the breakfast room, huffed softly and asked him if she could put something better on when he was done.

It pained him to hear her say there was anything better than Vivaldi but he couldn't deny her; he agreed and then watched as Carys set about cobbling together a breakfast from his purchases the night before. He'd arranged most things in front of a plate on which he'd placed two slices of toast, and he now tried not to pay too much attention to what she ate. He didn't want her to think he was hyper-focused on her eating habits - even though he was.

He told himself it was fine: he'd always been concerned with what she ate or didn't eat; he hoped she liked what he'd bought, that was all there was to it.

The music ended when Carys was halfway through a packet of Skips and had just stabbed a pickle with her fork. Dropping the pickle, fork, Skips - everything - she raced to the stereo and made her selection.

Vivaldi's Autumn began to play.

Carys grinned knowingly at Carlisle all the way back to her seat; he lowered his head and shook it in disapproval, but made sure that she saw his smile. So Carys hadn't wanted to put an end to his music – she just wanted to see if he would react. If he would complain. If he would defend Vivaldi.

He waited to speak until Carys had resettled herself and half reclined in her chair, throwing her legs out in front, crossing her ankles while she stared off into the distance and munched on a piece of toast.

"You look like an eighteenth-century aristocrat, my darling."

Carys broke her stare to grin at him. "I know. I feel like one in this room."

She was referring to the breakfast room. It was a smaller version of the dining room - with space for ten rather than twenty - and was far brighter in the summer months. He was glad she liked it; he had already mapped out the basis of a new painting of her to be set in the room and his mind turned to wondering whether he should make this one a little more modern: show her as she was right now.

Yes, that was what he would do.

He would paint her exactly as she was in that moment: wearing his shirt half-tucked into her shorts, a piece of toast in her hand, grinning at him with that spark in her eyes.

"It doesn't quite seem real here," Carys added, looking up at the ceiling. Her eyes tracked quickly around the room. "I feel like I'm in a dream or something."

"A good dream?" Carlisle heard himself ask.

"A very good dream," she said. Returning her gaze to him, she looked wistful now. "I plan on giving you the best memories here. Better memories than you could have ever hoped for."

Carlisle reasoned to himself that Carys couldn't have known where his mind would have gone and he smiled at her instead of responding. That morning she had sat cross-legged in front of the floor-length mirror in their bedroom while she did her makeup. It was a happier memory than most of the ones he'd brought with him into his second life – in regards to this house, at least.

Carys made quick work of her breakfast and waved Carlisle off when he offered to take her plate. She gathered the various food items and left the room. He sat where he was for a minute, listening to the sound of her soft sock-clad footsteps padding to the kitchen.

He supposed he should get ready when the faucet turned on.

It didn't take long to get everything together; he was done by the time Carys was, and he joined her in the kitchen, checking his glasses in the window while she dried her hands. Carys looked over her shoulder, dropped the tea towel, then slowly turned to face him. One hip cocked, she held onto the edge of the counter behind her and rested back against it.

"You got glasses," she said softly.

Carlisle smiled. If they'd stayed in Forks for much longer he would have taken to wearing these glasses to make himself look a little older, and he liked to think they suited him.

"We're going to be research partners," he explained. "I'm pretending to be a lecturer at Cornell – which isn't too much of a lie with the school year and all – and you'll be my PhD student."

"Yeah," Carys said thickly. "I can do that." She nodded slowly, staring at him with an oddly eager expression on her face.

Her expression was odd purely because it usually preceded an invitation to bed – but they had an entire day at the library planned and she'd fended him off that morning in case sex made them late.

Carlisle dismissed the thought and crossed to the satchel he'd dropped to the table. "Excellent." He opened the bag, withdrew two pieces of paper, and held up the letters of introduction which would allow them access to some of the more restricted manuscripts and books in the British Library. "Have a look; you're going to be Vale again darling, sorry about that."

Carys slowly made her way to his side and read them over. "You really went all out on this one, didn't you?" she asked.

He nodded. "Of course I did. Now, I think we need to think about snacks and mealtimes. We'll be at it all day so you'll likely need to refuel–"

"Yeah," Carys breathed excitedly, stepping closer. "Definitely."

"–but food isn't really allowed in some of the parts of the library we'll be in, so we'll have to hide it."

Carys cleared her throat, hiding her face from him. "Right," she said, shoulders slumping. "Yeah, that makes more sense."

"More sense?"

"Nothing."

"Carys?"

"Nothing..."

Carlisle grinned. "Regretting your choice, are you? It's too late now: we're going."

Carys whined and darted him a blushing glance before she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "It's the glasses." Her words were muffled by his clothing. "They're sexy."

"Oh, I know they are. Why do you think I wear them?" And then – because she was so very embarrassed and he couldn't help but tease her – Carlisle wrapped his arms around Carys and whispered in her ear, "A clergyman, a doctor, a lecturer. You do like an authority figure, don't you, my love?"

A deep inarticulate sound ripped from the back of Carys' throat. "I hate you!" she snapped, slapping his chest.

Carlisle held her tighter and fought a laugh.

"Shut up Carlisle."

"Oh but you're so lovely when you're all hot and bothered."

"Lovely and tempting?" she asked hopefully.

Carlisle chuckled. "Very tempting, but we have things to do. If they're too distracting I'll get rid of the glass–"

"No!" Carys cried. Pulling away, she stared at his face, stroked his cheek, and murmured, "No. No, you keep those on."


The day was just as predicted. It was hot but overcast enough that Carlisle was safe from direct sunlight. Carys convinced Carlisle to park a little away from the library and she now cut ahead of him in the crowd, striding purposefully towards their destination, seemingly oblivious to the stares of the people they passed. To Carlisle (two steps behind) it was amusing. The humans would turn to look at Carys and then double-take when they caught sight of him trailing after.

The crowd shifted and Carlisle paused mid-step to avoid walking into two young women. A teenage boy took advantage of the gap, racing past. An older woman tried shoving through and Carlisle stepped back a little to save her from colliding with his hard body.

"Sorry," she said; it was clear she didn't mean it.

"No, no, sorry," he said, trying to sound sincere.

A hand gripped his wrist and Carys pulled him through the blockade, glaring momentarily at the crowd as a whole before her expression melted into an encouraging smile which she turned on him before facing ahead again.

She didn't let go of his hand until they were safely on the other side of the packed street and had taken a quiet side street instead. He felt a little foolish – being stuck in a group of humans and having to be saved.

"Sorry," Carlisle said when Carys adjusted her hold and fell into step beside him.

"For what?" she asked, nonplussed.

"The crowd just..."

Carys grinned up at him. "It's good to be home, isn't it?"

Just like that all his doubt and feeling of foolishness fell away.

"It is," he agreed.

It wasn't long before they reached the edge of the huge brown and white squares which paved the ground around the British Library.

Carlisle had caught sight of the buildings first and Carys had admitted that it amazed her - as these things sometimes did (or at least that was what she said) - that something as "absolutely gigantic" could be hidden from view so easily - this time by the busy station behind.

And then she saw the library and pressed harder against his side, a grin plastered on her face while she murmured excitedly. And it was plastered - the grin - because (and Carlisle wasn't sure if she knew this and doubted she'd be so open if he made too big of a point of it) Carys' eyes betrayed her nervousness and just a hint of fear. Her eyes shuttered almost instantly but for a split second, it was there.

Carlisle shrugged her hold off his arm, flung his arm around her waist, and drew her to a halt against his side.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Of cour-" Carys stopped before she could finish the lie and shook her head, her arms slipping around his torso. "I'm scared." More than half her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. The grin reappeared. "Let's not go today. Let's go tomorrow?"

She couldn't meet his eye. Carlisle pulled her closer, kissing her temple, and after a few moments, she relaxed against him. Her heart slowed.

"We need to go today," he said apologetically when she drew back enough for him to see her eyes again. "If we don't-"

"We won't go at all," Carys sighed.

"No, not that." Carlisle smiled gently. "If we don't go today it might be too sunny and we might not be able to go until Thursday."

Carys hid her face again but Carlisle could feel her small smile through the fabric of his shirt. She blew out a sigh and sobered, then leaned back to meet his eye again.

"We have to go today," she said.

"We have to go today," he echoed.

It didn't take long before Carys was shaking Carlisle off, taking a deep deep breath, tugging him along towards the entrance. Carlisle didn't mind it when she did this - this being: all but dragging him somewhere when she was the one who had been worried about it - because Carys sometimes found it easier to do things for other people than she did for herself. Case and point: knowing Carlisle might not be able to go back to the library until Thursday meant she could tell herself (and her nerves) that he was the reason they were going today so she needed to help him and she could, therefore, save both of them from more days of worry if she dragged him along.

Carlisle had seen it plenty of times before.

Some people could be passive-aggressive about doing things for other people, but most humans ... well, they weren't. So many humans, and a couple of vampires he could name, worried so much more than they needed to about things they did for themselves. Having someone to do things with made things easier. Carys took things one step further, as some did. When she was really worried she became insular, or she clung to Carlisle, or she identified someone else's worry or fear and wielded it like a shield, sometimes a sword.

A small pit formed in the base of Carlisle's long-dead stomach. Carys knew he called the dhampir 'sweeting'. She had promised not to make a decision based on anything other than herself and the evidence they found, but he'd need to remind her of that when the time came - preempt things. Just in case.

Carys' hand shook in his and he squeezed three times under cover of adjusting his hold. It wasn't something they usually did but Carys had taught him it, just as Amy had taught her as a child that when it was really needed - when you were nervous or scared or had to be quiet or simply wanted to let someone know without the whole world knowing - you could use the code.

Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze: I. Love. You. Or: You'll be okay. And. I love you.

She flashed him a grateful smile and squeezed back. Four times.

Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. I. Love. You. Too. Or: Thanks. I needed that. I love you too. Really, thanks. Or: Thanks. I love you too. Do you need reassurance? Don't worry, I've got you.

They entered the library side by side and Carys let out a soft gasp. Her eyes grew round and gentle. She literally sagged against him, her head tipping back to stare up at the floors above which were visible through the glass between the shelves, desks and entrance hall below.

Carlisle echoed her sentiments and those of the other humans who stared up through the fathomlessly vast entrance hall. Vast, stark architecture. White, glass, black, metal, brown brick, all housing the largest collection of books and manuscripts in the world. Floor upon floor upon floor, rising high, each filled with rows and rows and rows of bookshelves and reading desks. Millions of books for the reading. Millions. Ever growing because everything which was published in the United Kingdom had to have a copy submitted to the British Library. Yes. Carlisle had been visiting for centuries and he could understand and agree with their awe every time he returned.

"It's bigger than I remembered," Carys whispered to herself. "How is it bigger than I remembered?"


They had been pouring over manuscripts and old tomes for three hours when Carys sighed. It wasn't a shallow sigh, a heavy sigh when searching for a new, more comfortable position, a tired sigh, or an uncontrollable, unconscious sigh. This was a slow, heavy, sharp sort of sigh. A frustrated sigh.

Carlisle watched her from the corner of his eye. She adjusted her position, shifted her hold on the book, and continued to read. The slight crinkle between her brows remained, deepening slightly with every pass of her slightly narrowed eyes over the page.

"Anything good?" Carlisle asked, balancing his book on the edge of the table. "I've not found anything in this one yet." He added it when she looked up – to make her think he was simply bored with what he was reading.

Carys' eyes flickered between his face and the book in her hands. She lowered it to her lap and said, "This says ... it says that cambions are insatiably hungry in the first seven years. So much so that seven whet nurses wouldn't be able to keep up."

"It's a good job we're super-rich."

She smiled. "We won't be by the end of this."

"Ha!" Carlisle grinned, lifting his book and then returning it to the table. "Well, this one says that dhampirs grow up in seven years."

"I've seen that somewhere else... Ah!" Carys tapped the spine of the second book in the 'read' pile. "This one says dhampirs disappear after seven years."

Carlisle drew his notebook towards him and made the note while saying, "I'll put it on the list. Seven years ... Several references..."

"It stands to reason if you grow up that fast, you might move on," Carys murmured.

"Yes. If you find another, I'll add another tick to the list. I've also read that it will be that hungry. I'll add that too." He already had while he was writing the other point and his pen didn't move.

"Yes, it all makes sense ... seven years ... say they're eighteen when they're done, that would be two and a half times as fast." Carys' smile deepened. "I'm quite hungry myself."

"Are you?" Carlisle smirked. Carys had already eaten through more than half the secret snacks, but that wasn't out of the ordinary.

"Well I'm eating for two here," she said, deadpan.

"That's been disproven."

"Well I'm eating for two species ... and the little one wants saveloy and chips for dinner ... and a couple of wallies."

Wallies... Cockney slang; Gherkins. Note to self: buy more gherkins.

"That's very East End of you," he said.

"We both know you like a bit of rough." She winked. She actually winked.

"Please don't say things like that here, Carys. This is the largest library in the world. It houses the largest collection of manuscripts, texts, books. Every publication made in the UK is required to submit a copy to its collection. We are surrounded by history and literature."

Carys' face fell. "It's too sacred a place?"

"It's far too sexy a place," Carlisle said. "If you tempt me, I can't promise I won't take you straight home."

"You're turning into me," Carys warned.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you're turning into me."

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I thought you asked if I'd like to be in you," he teased.

This shocked an indignant laugh from Carys. "No, you didn't!"

"It must have been wishful thinking."

"Randy fuck."

"Now you're purposefully confusing me." Carlisle feigned a frown and then cleared the expression. "The answer is yes, just so you know."

She cocked her head to the side. "Yes to..."

"The offer." When Carys continued to look confused, Carlisle added, "A randy fuck."

"Oh, you-!" Carys held her middle finger up at him and returned to her book with reddened cheeks.

Carlisle chuckled, slid her a biscuit when the coast was clear and cleared his throat over the sound of her chewing.

A couple of hours later Carys started staring at him and Carlisle did his best not to look up until she addressed him. She had been reading from a book he'd read many years before and so he had some expectation of what was to come.

"Carlisle," Carys whispered. The desks nearby had become occupied over the past hour and so they had to be even more careful than before.

"Yes," he asked, just as softly, looking up.

"It says here that incubi impregnate women while they're asleep."

Silence. They stared at each other and Carlisle waited for what was coming.

"Have we had sleep sex?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes. "No."

She stopped teasing. Her smile slipped. A longer silence, in which Carys did not blink until she had to.

"It also says," she whispered, "that a succubus - that's a woman-"

"Yes," Carlisle replied.

"-has to have sex with a human man-"

"Yes."

"-and if we ignore the whole unconscious bit and the whole killing him bit-"

"Yes."

"-then it says she collects the..." Carys' voice lowered to the barest of whispers. "Sperm. And then gives it to the incubus. Probably by sex."

"Yes."

"And then he gives it to the human woman via sex and gets her pregnant."

"That is what it says."

"... Hmm."

Carys returned to her book. Carlisle did not; he watched her because he was quite sure she wasn't finished. A few moments passed and then Carys inhaled sharply; her eyebrows shifted up and down; under her breath, she murmured:

"Hope you and Heidi made a good kid."

There it was: what Carlisle had been waiting for.

"Carys," he whispered, leaning in, "it was a very long time ago, and that's not how this works."

"I know that. You think I don't know that?" she asked softly.

Carlisle hesitantly returned to his manuscript.

Carys added, "I wonder who the human father is."

Carlisle dropped his head to his hands and Carys reacted by making a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. He looked up to find her stifling her laughter with a hand, trying desperately not to guffaw.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" he asked.

"Having a brief affair with the most attractive woman in history? No, Carlisle. No, you're not."

At least she wasn't jealous anymore. Sitting up, he took the book from her and replaced it with another, saying:

"One day you'll forget about it. Regardless, I think that's enough of that book for one day."

He waited for her to settle in, and then continued reading.

Papers rustled, pages turned, Carys said, "This one's taking about unnaturally large and cold appendages."

Carlisle replaced the book with another. "Try this one instead," he said.

This time, when Carys took the book and began to read, she didn't appear to find anything amusing or worrying about it.

Carlisle hoped it would last.

He was lucky: it did.

They read in amicable silence for the rest of the afternoon, their peace only disturbed by the odd addition to the list they were making or human moments such as Carys' trips to the bathroom or when Carlisle snuck her more snacks beneath the nose of the librarian who regularly checked on them.

Ah, the librarian.

The librarian did not like Carlisle. The librarian loved Carys. There was nothing she could ask for that he wouldn't immediately give her, even if he'd only just been telling Carlisle he couldn't help him. His name was Matt, and if he caught Carys eating, Matt looked the other way – but when Matt saw another woman dare to unscrew a bottle of water, all hell broke loose. Very quiet, very polite, very passive-aggressive hell but hell nonetheless.

If Matt spared Carys even the briefest of questionable glances or comments then Carlisle might have been able to explain why it rubbed him up the wrong way, but the man had an infuriating way of almost being too nice to Carys in a way that wasn't quite enough to be commented on. He wasn't overly friendly or strange or creepy or flirty. He just had ... an interest Carlisle didn't like. It was as if she couldn't do any wrong in his eyes.

"You two should just stop eyeing each other," Carys complained when Carlisle said he'd return the books for them. "You're both nice enough. I mean, I don't know Matt from Adam but he seems nice enough and he's just doing his job. You're not usually this standoffish, Carlisle."

She was right, of course. Carlisle wasn't usually this standoffish. But he was finding it difficult not to be.

"He likes you too much," he heard himself say. "I don't like it."

Carys sighed and kissed his shoulder. "Come on. We'll go together so you don't end up killing the poor man."

She was joking, of course, but something was rising in Carlisle that he didn't like. He hated it, in fact. It wasn't just jealousy or the want to carry her off, or possessiveness, it was a clutching fear.

"Fine," he agreed. "I'm sorry, darling."

Carys stroked his arm. "It's kinda you, to be honest."

"Oh?"

"You're distrustful of a librarian because he keeps getting me the good books."

Carlisle grumbled. When she put it like that it sounded ridiculous.

Holding the books in front of him – perfectly stacked so Matt didn't have anything to complain about – Carlisle followed Carys to the main desk.

Matt grinned warmly when he saw Carys; his eyes grew cold when he saw Carlisle.

Matt was a handsome young man with wavy brown hair, pale skin, and a very slight tan. His eyes were – in Carlisle's biased perspective – too green and too light and too warm and far too classically attractive to be trusted. The man was tall – as tall as Carlisle – and had a grin that Carlisle thought was far too attractive for a librarian.

In fact, he could just say it as it was: he didn't like how attractive Matt was. Librarians could be attractive; of course, they could – but this librarian shouldn't be.

"Back again, Carys," Matt said in his smooth voice. "All done for the day?"

"We are," she said. "We'll be back though."

"I'll have everything ready when you do."

Carlisle cleared his throat. Carys hadn't told him when they would be back.

"Here you are," he said as kindly as he could manage. He placed the books carefully onto the desk. "All present and correct."

Matt's light green eyes bored into him. "Good," he said with an expressionless tone, a smile plastered on his face.

"Good," Carlisle echoed in the same way, with the same polite smile on his own face.

"Fine."

"Right."

"Hmm."

"Mmm."

Carys made an uncomfortable sound.

Matt's gaze flickered and clung to her just as Carlisle's did. It was things like that that Carlisle really didn't like. The man had no right to be looking at Carys as if he was worried about her.

"I think we should get going," she said.

Matt nodded. He checked their books and accepted that they were all there. Then he accepted Carys and Carlisle's thanks without making further conversation.

"See you again," Matt said, smiling warmly when they made to leave.

"See you," Carys said. And then, when they were out of earshot she said, "Okay. That was ... I thought two were about to attack each other in the middle of the library. You clearly don't like him and he clearly doesn't like you, and it's only getting worse so we'll just try and avoid him next time."

"Thank you," Carlisle said. He darted a glance over his shoulder. Matt was staring coldly after him. "I just don't like him."

Matt's eyes narrowed. Carys looked back. Matt glanced away immediately. Carys took a deep breath and focused ahead.

"I don't like the way he looks at you," she said. Clinging to his arm, she shuddered. "Next time I'll wave my ring about or something."

"Somehow I don't think that's the problem," Carlisle said immediately. He was more than a little pleased that she now agreed there was something wrong with Matt. "He might get a bad feeling from me."

They reached the lifts and waited for the next available one.

Carys stared up at him. "You're so lovely though."

"Some people are warier than others," he said. "It happens."

"Oh..." Carys looked morose. "I don't like that either."

"No. Nor do I."

"Carlisle...," Carys said quietly. "Is this affecting you? You said you needed to be with me more since all this happened, but ... that was really rude back there. Rude for you, I mean. Do you think maybe this is kicking your protective instincts and your emotions into overdrive or something?"

Carlisle hummed thoughtfully in response. Was that what it was?

A/N: I haven't written in the third person past tense for a while but I think that went okay!

Edit: I changed the librarian's name from Mark to Matt because I remembered I know someone with the name and it felt weird.

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed since the last chapter! That's: BMBMDooDoo-Doo-Doo-Doo, chellekathrynnn, Momochan77, BubblyYork, LeeForShort, 0oKitteno0, GuestMG, derniermom, seconddragon, Shelly J88, CarlaPA, Guest (Thank you!), KEZZ 1, Nana (It's double time, so she's currently about 22 weeks pregnant if it was a human child, so her bump is coming in but right now she's only just beginning to show (it depends on the woman and I guess it's not normal but I come from a family where people show later with their first so I ran off that thinking it was normal. I agree that it should be later but I'm going by the old legends and such and then adapting them a little to fit the story. She's been pregnant since March so she's got 9 weeks to go but she'll have had about 6/7 months of pregnancy all in all), Guest (Thank you!), Lewtam, Guest (Thank you!), mariananininha, RosieKay, CMalwaysHP, Guest (Thank you!), JosieNightOwl, NeonKat (Thank you so much!), Bailey2797, Guest (I miss writing it! Hope you liked the new chapter), and Janie ( 3).