Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.

Rated M for several reasons.

Chapter 15: The Kitchen

**Chapter 14 Catchup – AKA Last Year's Episode**

"What can you see in the future?" Leah asks and Alice laughs.

"Bella is going to be very sick at about 2am tomorrow morning and I am going to hold her hair like the good friend that I am."

"Nice," I grumble. "I thought you couldn't see anything when the wolves were around?"

"I couldn't," Alice admits, "but it's starting to change. I can see around Leah fairly well now, and Jake and Paul to a degree."

"So, you can see Sam?" Leah wants to know.

"No, I don't think so, it's not an exact science." Alice says regretfully. "I still get total blank spaces and I wonder if that's him, or his pack, but I don't know for sure. It's very frustrating."

That sobers us all for a moment, so she mixes another cocktail. Screwdrivers.

To add color to Alice's early morning experience I snag a slice of veggie pizza and the conversation moves on to other things.

BPOV

"Bite me," I moan, but Alice only laughs.

I have made it down to the kitchen this morning but accepted that I won't be making it any further than the couch for the rest of the day. Unlike Leah, who drank me under the table last night, threw up copiously, napped for a couple of hours and then ran home. Naked.

Supernatural people suck.

…..

Mid-afternoon rain is pounding on the house and surrounding trees when Alice breaks our comfortable, magazine flipping, silence.

"I should probably go," she says, "Jasper is getting angsty, he keeps making his mind up to come over, then remembering that I told him to leave us alone."

"Poor Jasper," I offer but she just laughs.

"Neither of us is easy to be married to but we rub along fine all the same. I shall treat him to a couples' hunt," she says, waggling her eyebrows at me.

"Ew, I think."

"You think right," she confirms, unfolding herself gracefully from the couch.

"Thank you for last night," I say, making my own less dignified journey upright. "I really need that."

"You are more than welcome," she says, giving me a quick hug. "I'll call you tomorrow to see how you're doing."

"Thanks."

And out the door she blurs, barely ruffling the fire warmed air.

"I have a hangover," I complain to the empty house, but there is no reply.

…..

I don't have any days off now for a week, so I have no choice but to throw myself into my work. There's no time for introspection or fretting, all I do for the next week is eat, sleep and work. And most of the eating was only done because Esme or Leah made me have lunch or dinner with them and Paul insisted that I cook it for him.

My three days off rota therefore came as a bit of a shock when they arrived. So much so that I offered to take shifts from my colleagues, but they ratted me out to Carlisle, who sent me home with instructions to do something to 're-charge my batteries'.

…..

Feeling in need of something to really command my attention, and drunk on my success with the bathroom, I decided to rip out the kitchen. How much harder can it be?

"Bella, what are you doing?"

"Shit! Edward, you scared the crap out of me! Don't creep up on people!"

"Sorry," he says, barely hiding his smile, "I knocked but you did not answer."

"I don't have super hearing Edward and as you can see and hear I was busy knocking out this larder cupboard."

"I can see that" he says, reviewing the still standing wreckage. "What did it do to you?"

"It survived the 70s Edward," I sigh, setting aside my mallet with some relief. Damn thing is heavy.

"I do not wish to sound like a scold Bella, but should you be doing something like that in your condition?"

Ah, caught in the act. My sling, which Carlisle quite rightly instructed me to wear whenever I wasn't in bed, is abandoned amid the debris of what used to be a dresser.

I scowl at him and he raises an eyebrow at me.

I retrieve the sling and place it pointedly on the table.

He laughs.

And so do I.

"I am not overdoing it," I promise, "please don't turn me in to your dad."

"I will not," he assures me, "can I help?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly, "I can't help thinking that the satisfaction of doing it myself won't outlast you finishing the job in 60 seconds without breaking a sweat."

"Point taken," he allows, "how about I fetch dinner instead?"

My stomach rumbles, that is the best idea I've heard all day.

"Would you?"

"Of course, anything you desire."

"Edward, don't offer an indecisive person choice, we'll be here all night and I'll starve to death."

"I might not be the best a choosing," he points out.

"Surprise me, if you don't mind?"

"I like a challenge," he says with a new all over twinkle, "I will be back within the hour."

I bet he calls Alice.

My cells dings, apparently she searched multiple futures and deduced that a medium rare steak and fries was what, or will be, what I most appreciate.

And she could be right.

In the meantime, I am not going to be denied by a stupid larder cupboard whose hinges have spent decades snagging my clothes and getting me into trouble with my parents . . . .

…..

Edward did indeed bring me an amazing steak, which I wolfed down with unladylike gusto. And then he very calmly, and at human pace and strength, helped me destroy my kitchen and utility room. He seemed to enjoy it as much as I did although he mostly seemed to be just tidying away the mess I was making, into a dumpster I didn't know I'd ordered. And talking. I asked the occasional innocuous question and the inhuman encyclopaedia spewed forth interesting information. He wasn't even all that smug when I finally had to admit that my shoulder was killing me, and I needed to stop. It seems we can get along simply fine if I bury my anger toward him.

…..

I'm now back on night shifts for a week and the kitchen is well and truly ripped out, its former contents (including appliances) hauled away in the dumpster that I didn't know I'd ordered.

No kitchen and night shifts are a tricky combination and I think I may as well just tell the hospital to pay my salary to the diner and I'll collect what's left over at the end of each week.

I really should do something about the it, like hire a contractor, but I find the empty space strangely compelling. With the aid of the internet, I've hooked up a faucet to the water supply and my coffee maker sits next to it on the dusty floor while I sit on the one chair, I saved from Charlie's ancient dining set and the bare lightbulb glares down at me.

I may be becoming a little peculiar.

…..

Three days off.

I took my dirty laundry to the Sud 'n' Soak in Port Angeles and treated myself to a stroll around the shops and a nice meal. I treated Leah too, because she insisted that I couldn't go alone. We made a day of it. She drove although my arm is much better and officially out of the sling.

I cleaned the house and took Paul to the diner with me for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

On the last day I wallowed in my pit, had a bath and read a book in the kitchen.

And then I went back onto day shifts.

…..

"Well," Alice asks as she breezes into my kitchen a few days later, "is this minimalist or work in progress?"

"It's action for action's sake," I reply.

"I see," she observes wryly, "I'm not an expert on kitchens, but shouldn't a human have one?"

"To be fair there are many humans on this planet that manage perfectly well without one."

"So, you'll be setting up a cooking fire on the porch then? And banging your clothes on a rock in the creek?"

"Probably not," I snort, "I'll get round to it, it just doesn't seem important right now."

"Fair enough," she says, turning slowly to take in the full glory of it all. "Edward was all for installing you a new kitchen, he and Jake had even planned it out."

"What stopped them?"

"I showed Edward a vision or two of your reaction. He was somewhat shocked. Jake, less so."

"I'll bet," I snigger.

"He means well," she shrugs, "Esme sent me over to collect you for a girlie night. Leah is already on her way. Grab an overnight bag and let's go."

"I have work in the morning," I point out.

"And Carlisle will drive you. Now hop to it."

"Yes ma'am!"

…..

"The boys have gone hunting," Alice informs me as we pull up in front of their house, "so it's just us."

"Rose?" I ask, a little apprehensive.

"Yes, Rose too," she replies, "don't judge her as harshly as she judges everyone else, she's nice once you get to know her."

"Okay."

Alice just laughs and hauls my overnight bag out of the car as Leah speeds down the steps to give me a painful hug.

"Have you seen this place?" She demands. "It's a fuckin' palace!"

I nod and let her drag me up the steps to get a much gentler hug from Esme.

"Welcome," she whispers into my hair, "I'm so glad you came."

"We're in here," she says, leading the way into the media room I vaguely remember peering into from my previous visits.

"We have snacks," Alice says, "and wine. And chocolate. And chick flicks."

Leah and I make a beeline for the wine, although Leah can multitask and plate up snacks at the same time.

"This is lovely Esme," I say gratefully, "what made you think of it?"

"Alice and Edward," she replies with a laugh. "they said you were getting 'squirrely' and needed to get out more. And you've been avoiding me, so . . . ."

"Alice!" I object.

"Don't have a go at me," Alice says, holding up her hands, "Edward said you were getting squirrely, and I just looked into the future and saw the fluffy tail and nut addiction."

I open my mouth to object further, but Leah stops me, "Bella, I have seen your kitchen, that shit's not normal."

"It's a work in progress," I begin . . . .

"Not tonight," Esme insists firmly, "tonight it's a 'who cares'."

Leah waggles her glass at me, and I decide to let it go, so we toast, and Esme pokes her head into the hall to call Rose.

I didn't hear a reply, but Leah goes rigid and locks eyes with Alice, who rolls her own.

"Rosalie Hale Cullen!" Esme suddenly yells, making me jump.

Again, I don't hear a reply, but Leah and the vampires obviously do.

"It's okay, Esme," Leah says, "I can leave if its causing a problem."

"You will do no such thing!" Esme snorts. "I will not tolerate uninformed prejudice in my house."

Something else must have been said because everyone abruptly heads outside with little old me trailing in their wake.

On the lawn tiny Esme and lanky Rose are in each other's faces. Alice and Leah both look embarrassed.

"What's going on?" I hiss at them.

"Rose is objecting to my presence," Leah says quietly, "apparently I smell like mangy wet dog and shouldn't be allowed in the house of decent vampire folk."

"What?"

"The La Push Wolves do have a distinct scent," Alice explains, "but its not offensive, it just takes getting used to."

"Says the woman who smells like burning toffee apples," Leah snorts without heat.

"We smell sickly sweet to the wolves apparently," Alice explains when my brow furrows. "Don't take too much notice of her Leah, this isn't about the way you smell, it's about Rose not being the centre of the universe, she hates that."

We fall silent for a moment as the row appears to escalate and then Rose abruptly blurs away into the trees.

"Sorry about that," Esme says as she returns to us, "Rose has decided that she immediately needs to go and tell Emmett what a terrible mother I am."

"Esme . . . ." Leah begins.

"Rose is a complicated woman," Esme interrupts, "and I love her dearly. But sometimes she needs to be clearly shown where the line is that she shouldn't cross. Tonight, was one of those times. Can we put this unpleasantness behind us and enjoy our night?"

"Pleeeeeese," Alice begs.

Leah considers for a moment and then nods.

"I get to pick first movie," Alice calls, blurring forwards.

"Like hell you do," Leah growls, disappearing after her almost as fast.

"Well," Esme says, linking her arm with mine as we follow at a more sedate (human) pace, "at least we got you out of the house."

"Will Rose be okay?"

"Emmett will calm her down and talk her round," she replies confidently. "She adores him more than she hates everyone else."

"Has Carlisle, ever, you know, analysed her?"

"He tried, once, in the 50s."

"What happened?"

"Carlisle was a big fan of Freud and spent some time with him in Vienna. I bought him an antique couch for their sessions. Rose tried to give Carlisle an enema with it. They agreed never to try it again."

"I see."

…..

The Cullens didn't seem unduly concerned about Rose so after a while Leah and I relaxed into our night and had a good time.

At the point when I started to nod off in my sumptuous chair Leah made her goodbyes and headed home to Harry and Jake, so Esme showed me to the bedroom I had used previously. The night that Charlie died.

I was so tired I couldn't get hung up on it. I just changed into my pyjamas and opened the drapes and balcony doors before wrapping myself up in the downy, cotton fresh, comforter . . . .

…..

I don't know how long I slept or what woke me up. But a fresh breeze is billowing the drapes and bathing my face in pine scents from the trees that literally brush the balcony rail and moonlight is illuminating everything with a suitably chilly silvery accent.

Often when I wake up a few hours into my sleep, especially when I've been drinking, I can snuggle back down and will myself back into the land of nod. But not tonight. Tonight, I decide to get up and drag the comforter out onto the balcony with me.

It's fascinating to be up in the gently swaying branches of the trees and genius of Esme to have the back of the house practically among them. I feel strangely . . . . alive . . . .