AN: So this is a one-shot written for Annilaia's birthday on the 25th of this fine January. Happy [early] birthday! Just a note: this is post Breaking Dawn, Bella's a vampire. Not to be taken seriously under any means. And this whole story is a joint-birthday celebration for Bella and Renesmee who's birthdays are close together. Enjoy! :)

Happy Birthdays

"Balloons? Alice, really?" If she was going to cover the whole house with balloons for crying out loud, she had better tell me why. I mean, the crystal vases had been an experience, but I figured by now she'd learned that celebrating birthdays was not a good idea. When you stopped aging, you just didn't care.

"I knew you'd act this way, but just live a little. It's for Renesmee's birthday, too." She grinned, holding one out to me which I shook my head to refuse. "It'll be a waste if I take them away. They were from a specialty store. The latex smells like Calvin Klein's Eternity Moment fragrance." Renesmee's favourite scent besides Werewolf, I noted to myself.

Rosalie appeared in the doorway, plugging her nose while Emmett laughed his loud, booming laugh beside her. "So that was what I was smelling for the past hour. Ugh. Couldn't you just use the scent of flowers or something. The roses were lovely the year before last."

Of course. Rosalie loved the smell of rose blossoms.

"But then it wouldn't be a surprise!" She giggled. "I sprayed their bed with the men's Eternity. Under the mattress, of course. It shouldn't be too overpowering. I didn't touch the pillows," she mock-whispered." Rosalie burst into loud, almost obnoxious laughter. She had since learned that particular inside joke. Then again, there were no secrets in the Cullen household.

I would have blushed if I could have. "Ugh. Alice." I gave her that look I always do, but it never works. I don't know why I even bother. It was the 'Why? Oh please God, why?' look that usually inserted pity into the hearts of friends and family members. Or it had, anyway. Now when I did it, Charlie usually looked stunned. Alice looked...like she was still going to put balloons everywhere.

But even when a moment is bad, you can always remember when things were at their worst. Then, you realize how far you have come. And how much better things can get.

"Bella," my husband greeted me. It was as formal as the day he first introduced himself, not that I expected it to change in the last fifteen minutes–give or take. He nodded his head at Alice, managed a greeting smile for Rosalie, and then pounded fists with Emmett who shook with laughter again. Jasper moved in, too, deliberately slow to alert us of his entrance but quickly moving to Alice's side. She flashed a smile at him, whispering something quickly to which he laughed.

"Whatever private jokes are being exchanged," Edward said, loud enough to be heard over Rosalie and Emmett's ongoing banter, "I want to know every part of them. Especially if they concern Bella's birthday."

I groaned, hoping it was silent and realizing it was the complete opposite.

"I really don't see what the problem is," Alice said, really sounding like she meant it. "I mean it's only a few balloons and a slight addition to your closet... what's so frightening about that?"

I bit my teeth against my lip, a familiar feeling of discomfort rising in my limbs. "You didn't say anything about clothes, Alice. That's like insult to injury." I saw Emmett out of the corner of my eye, turning around to laugh, his back shaking from the effort to keep it silent. Once he grew bored with that, though, he and Rosalie left the room to–I'm sure–be somewhere more private.

Alice pursed her lips slightly, growing less patient with me by the second. She seemed to have learned that as a vampire I was less of a pushover—much less likely to just let her have her own way whenever she wanted it.

"Well," she said finally, "I could let you see the garments, and choose your favourite. Of course, it would be a waste, but I could pretend to take it back to the store for you if you wish."

I gritted my teeth silently. "Just show me the clothes Alice."

She beamed and was up the stairs in an instant to begin rifling through the thousands of bags in hers and Jasper's closet. I'd allowed myself a glimpse, once, when they'd been away on a hunting trip. It seemed that the room was much more hers than his. And that was putting it mildly. Her clothes were everywhere, her magazines in neat, perfectly square piles on the floor. It wasn't until I saw a pair of Jasper's boots being used as bookends that I realized this was his room, too. Whatever space she occupied, she gave it her full and complete devotion, never mind the others who might want their space there too. I had a feeling, though, that Jasper wasn't into material possessions.

She returned a second later, the pile of clothes covering her torso, face, and most of her arms. She looked like a laundry-monster, bobbing down the stairs while she struggled to encompass all the pile with just her arms and hands. It seemed a challenge, even to me. Then I remembered how experienced she was with carrying clothes to and from dressing rooms, sometimes with me still in them.

She stuck her hand in the pile, fishing out an itchy looking cardigan with black and gray threads stuck out everywhere. It had buttons down the front, and two tiny pockets on the bottom. I touched it, and it seemed softer than it looked. I was suspicious, though.

"What are the washing instructions?" I asked. She made a sound similar to throat-clearing, but I continued. "It looks hard to wash with all these threads."

She giggled. "Those aren't threads. They're angora fibres, a symbol of high quality. And it shouldn't be hard to wash, just don't stick it in the dryer like you usually do." Edward shot her a look, but she didn't seem to care. She was referring to a time last year when I'd put one of the sweaters she'd bought me into the dryer by mistake. Now it looked more like a dog sweater. It was too small to fit Renesmee.

"How come none of these clothes have tags, Alice?" I rifled through the pile as she handed it to me, finding some decent items out of the five or ten she'd bought. It wasn't an unreasonable amount, but perhaps the quality was overshadowing the quantity. The price, that is. And if it didn't have a symbol on the front, that either meant that it was a cheap shirt she'd found at bargain, or one where the designer didn't feel the need to use symbols. I'd been told by her on many occasions that sometimes the designers without symbols were upcoming, but were already worth millions by designing for Michael Kors.

Whatever she was selling, I wasn't buying it.

"They don't have tags because I removed them. And before you freak out, just know that Edward helped. He said I was causing you 'unnecessary pain', but also knew he couldn't stop me." She smiled, this time a bit half-hearted, while shoving a polo shirt into my hands.

Edward looked a bit miffed. "I told you this was over the top," he said slowly. "You know how she hates birthdays. And anyway, she's not aging anymore. You can forget it."

She shook her head. "Because she's not aging, she'll have all the more seasons to wear these clothes. If not now, maybe twenty years from now when the style comes back."

I was still staring at the polo. On the left breast pocket there was a tiny alligator with its mouth open, staring at me. I knew this one. How could I not know this one? Think back, Bella, come on. The alligator (or crocodile, whichever) had been on one of Lauren's shirts. It was a memory almost too distant to remember, but she had worn those a lot. I had seen it a couple times, when flipping past it in a rejected magazine Alice bought me, or passing it in an obviously-out-of-my-league boutique. It was an impossible amount of time later when I remembered. "Lacoste? I don't golf, or whatever. And when was the last time I wore a polo shirt?"

She snapped out of her argument with Edward. "You wore one over your bathing suit when you were on the island, remember? You ran out of tank-tops."

She was right. Damn.

I struggled to think of a clear argument against this. "Well it's definitely more expensive than necessary. If you think for a second I stopped caring how much stuff costs, you can think again. It's not the money, but the waste of money that bothers me. You should be donating clothes to charities, or protesting sweatshops or something."

Her chin raised in an almost-Rosalie gesture. "I routinely donate to charities. And every month I share some of my stock earnings with sweatshop countries..." She stopped for a second, her rant running out of steam. "Forget about the other clothes, I'll keep them for Renesmee when she gets a bit older. Just try on this one jacket."

It was black, short, and double-breasted with a bow on the bottom of each side. It was heavy, probably a thick cotton, and it had cuffs on the sleeve. I almost felt that 'first love' feeling when I slipped it on. It fit perfectly, and I was immediately envious of whatever child would get this after I donated it to Goodwill.

"Sort of looks familiar," I mumbled, thinking it was under my breath.

Edward grimaced as Alice opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Don't say it, Alice. Please."

She gave him a patronizing look. "Remember when we watched re-runs of Gossip Girl last weekend and you were admiring that Valentino? This is almost the same one. It's newer, though, and a short style instead of thigh-length."

I did remember, as much as I tried to forget. Even though Jasper was right there, and they'd been together for almost sixty years, she still let out a little scream every time Serena's new boyfriend came on the big-screen. Yes, he looked like Daniel Gale from The Bad Mother's Handbook. The even stranger part was how Jasper didn't seem offended in the slightest.

Then Rosalie swept in the living room, attempting to hold Renesmee's hand. The child didn't have the patience for hand-holding, though, unless it was Jacob's warm unbreakable grip. Renesmee danced forward, holding the bottom of the jacket, fingering the seams gently.

"Black Valentino," she commented in her extremely high soprano. "Nine hundred dollars new, on sale for seven hundred and fifty. You bought this two weeks ago, am I right?"

Alice embraced my child, smiling angelically to herself. "Of course you're right, Nessie. I have you a very similar one in Aunt Rosalie's favourite colour. Shall you go get it from my car?" I was amazed at how she easily handed the keys to her Porsche over, barely hesitating. Most parents didn't let their kids handle car keys until they were at least sixteen. Definitely not when they were just a year old. But, then again, Alice was already preparing for Renesmee's sweet 'sixteen' with a car hidden in storage.

I heard scream very similar to Alice's coming from the garage. Alice could be pleased now that someone appreciated a brand-name.

Renesmee hugged Alice around the waist, giggling the words, "Thank you so much, Aunt Alice. Red is the upcoming colour this autumn season." Only Alice could truly know the season's upcoming colours. It was a lovely jacket, more stylish than the one Suri Cruise had been sporting. This one also made the bronze in her hair more vibrant. I thanked Alice with a silent smile, and she nodded, knowing I was appreciative.

I heard Edward let out a breath he'd been holding. Relieved, I guess, that I'd taken everything so well. Normally this was the sort of thing that set off an outburst in the household.

Emmett clapped Edward on the shoulder. "Aren't you sick of all the girly stuff? I swear, if they get into an epic debate about the difference between maroon and burgundy again, I'm going to lose it." I looked at Jasper with great sympathy. Emotionally, Emmett had 'lost it' one too many times this week alone—not to mention previous decades. Esme had told me –with near mourning sadness– about the coffee table she'd had to sacrifice for one of his more temperamental moments

Rosalie sighed in an expression of absolute melodramatics, before issuing a very ironic statement: "Oh, please, Emmett, stop being such a drama queen."

Alice issued an under-her-breath "Oh, you're one to talk" which Emmett chuckled at.

When I realized how strangely silent Renesmee was, I noticed how she was still admiring her reflection in the full-sized mirror. Some families might think it was strange to have a mirror in the living room, but Rosalie always used it to check her outfits in between conversation or before she left the house. Renesmee was modelling in the mirror, checking the back and front of the jacket as if it had changed in the moments since she'd put it on. A child from Rosalie's own heart.

"I really wish she wouldn't do that," Edward muttered when he saw who I was looking at. "She's reminding me more of Aunt Rosalie every single day." This was one of those times, I suspected, when he wished children weren't so impressionable.

Rosalie shot him a very merciless glare. "And I am quite proud of her!" she said, going over to scoop Renesmee up in her arms. She was getting far too big to be carried, but Rosalie wouldn't hear it. She didn't really listen to any opinions other than the ones she agreed with.

Alice raised her arms up over her head and screamed, "Shush!" in a not just ironic but also very policewoman-like gesture. "It's time for opening presents!"

Renesmee's eyes widened and she flashed a grin. "Jacob, too?" She looked around for her companion but he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she huffed and sat down on the couch.

Alice narrowed her eyes. "No, we are not giving gifts to the...Jacob. Apparently he had some last minute preparations, and that is alright with me because the fragrance with these balloons is just lovely at the moment..." She rambled on for a moment before taking a deep breath in and out, gauging the scent. She smiled delightedly.

Clearly some things about Jacob still miffed her. Like, she'd love to be in the same room as him because Renesmee's future could be so confusing—sometimes she found it a relief when he freed her of precognition. Other things, like his scent and large presence seemed to put a dent in her plans. He never was in her plans at all, not that she could plan for a blind-spot.

She also seemed upset by his 'last minute preparations'. The thought of not being prepared was astonishing to her. It was impossible for her not to be ready for Renesmee's birthday, but she seemed to forget that he was, after all, only a teenage boy. And sometimes they got last minute gifts.

Sure enough, he stumbled into the room just as Rosalie wrinkled her nose. He looked tidier than usual, actually wearing a shirt–white, button down– and nice black pants instead of the shorts. Renesmee looked at him as if she was utterly confused. I watched as she walked over to him, poked him in the stomach, and looked into his eyes with wonderment before exclaming, "It is my Jacob!"

His face turned a bit redder. "I thought I'd get dressed up for the occasion." He wrapped his arms around her before going over to give me a loose, one-armed hug. "Joint-birthday, huh? Good thing I came prepared!" Alice snickered at the word while he handed me a silver wrapped gift. The colour of the wrapping made me not only feel uneasy, but Jasper looked surprisingly hostile as well.

Upon further inspection of the package I noticed that it was an odd shape. Kind of squishy, but not like clothing or a blanket. It was small, too, fitting in the palm of my hand. I was very cautious with the silver wrapping, thanking some higher power that I could not cut my finger this time.

Renesmee stopped me. "We have to unwrap our gifts together!" Her gift was the size of a small book or DVD. We each flipped the gifts around, unwrapping the corners. It surprised me how much time Jake had taken to wrap these. He'd been a bit haphazard with things before Renesmee came along.

Her gift was a cute journal with a leather cover. It had a stitched wolf in it. I remembered how much I had complained when he had given me gifts, saying I'd preferred the homemade kind. I guess Jake had remembered this for future use.

"This way," he said, "you can write down some of the thoughts you don't want to share."

And then I just stood there, looking at my hands. Edward didn't look impressed. I heard a coughing sound from Alice and Jasper. Rosalie looked downright offended. Emmett was suppressing laughter. It was a heating pad. The kind you put in mittens or socks in the winter. Especially in Forks.

"I thought you'd be needing another heat source," he said sarcastically. "You know, being without your usual space heater." He was laughing, then, but none of the rest of us were. Except maybe for Renesmee's tiny laugh from next to him.

He was looking into the fevered eyes of eight suddenly murderous vampires.

It was Edward that threw him out the door, calmly walking back into the house and rubbing his hands together like they had dirt on them. "Mission accomplished," he said, throwing a crooked grin at me. I smiled, too, having already forgotten who that boy even was. Jacob? The name didn't sound familiar.

Renesmee seemed a little sad, at first, but Alice managed to quickly distract her with mentions of "Cake!" and "Cookies!" all of which were turned down. Renesmee sniffed at each human delicacy, but turned her nose away. It was sad that Esme's effort was wasted, but at least she got to try a new recipe—that was a rarity.

After Renesmee had received various clothing items, a diamond hair clip from Rosalie and Emmett, and a thick edition of the Grimm Brothers fairy tales from Jasper, it was my turn to open the last gifts.

It was from Rosalie.

It was a silver pin with an inscription that read, Arm Wrestling Champion. It seemed that it had once been a gift from Rose to Emmett some time ago, but she was now passing it on to me. If he had been able to cry, he would have been sobbing right now. It was laughable how pitiful he looked.

"And my gift is a rematch!" Emmett shouted.

Alice rolled her eyes at him. "You forget, Emmett. This isn't just a mere birthday party. Bella has nearly completed her newborn year. She's probably not at the same strength she was before." She sighed, telling me to 'Ignore him. Please.'

"That's precisely the point!" Emmett argued, his ego severely deflated. "She's more likely to be beaten, and I'll get my title back!"

Or I might win. A more tempting proposition.

That's how we ended up in the backyard, holding right hands on top of a boulder while Rosalie counted to three. It was a bit harder than last time. Actually, a lot harder. He was strong, and even though I'd won once, I knew this time would be different. I was struggling, our arms not moving as we both struggled with the weight. It seemed to be a tie.

And then I saw my angel of a daughter dance across the grass. She smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and then put her hand around mine. With our combined effort, Emmett's hand smashed into the boulder with a deafening crack.

I smiled with satisfaction.

–xx–xx–xx–

"That was an interesting day, wasn't it?" Edward said as he pulled off his caramel-coloured shirt, putting his arms around me. Renesmee was tucked-in, downstairs in her own bed. She was likely crying out for Jacob in her sleep–a habit Edward wished she'd get out of.

"Interesting doesn't begin to describe it," I muttered. If the day could have tired me out, it would have. But I don't think it would have made me tired of Edward.

"I forgot," he said simply. That was impossible. He never forgot anything.

"Forgot what?" I asked, thinking it was car payments or to send a sympathy card to Billy Black.

"Happy birthday," he whispered, reminding me that there were still a few hours of my birthday to spend alone with him. Oh, and the rest of eternity.

–xx–xx–xx–

AN: I hope you liked it! Happy Birthdagh! And apologies for the numerous references to designers, television, other brand names, etc. Oh, and the sympathy card reference if you're offended by the thought of Jacob dying. It's a joke, and I know Emma's not offended. XD

Reviews are cool! Um, hope you enjoyed it!