Alrighty, this chapter takes place after Chapter 44, "Destiny Calls" where Bella calls her parents. We never saw Renée's reaction to finding out Bella's a vampire, so I thought I'd explore that here. Hope you enjoy!

BELLA THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

After his experience in Sweet Home, Charlie seemed to walk around in a daze, his mind turned to other things. It wasn't unusual to find him in a retrospective daze, even at the station. Given Bella's leaving, everyone took pity on him and let him be.

"It's after six, Chief. Not going home?" the receptionist asked, her purse and keys already in her hands.

"Oh! Doris!" Charlie replied, snapping out of his reverie. "Is it? Yeah, I'm going..." He rose up, and turned off the light. Deep down, he knew he just had to get past these ghosts that continued to haunt him. Despite living in a sleepy town where crime usually consisted of kids playing Nicky Nicky Nine Doors, there was still work to be done.

But Doris just looked kindly at the man she had known since the fourth grade, and went on her way.

Charlie went on his way too, wondering how the day had flown so fast, and yet he had gotten so little done. The drive home was equally swift. He seemed to be on autopilot, and upon reaching the street he lived on, even wondered as to how he had gotten there.

Of course, he wasn't sleeping well, and that didn't help matters any. The house just seemed too quiet now. Too empty. He had gotten back into the habit of eating often at the diner, when he wasn't fishing something out of the freezer that couldn't quite be classified as food.

Just going through the motions, he parked the car in the driveway, not even taking a passing glance at the green Ford out front. But, as he strode closer to the house, he heard the fire alarm blaring inside. Not even fumbling for his key, he pushed open the door to hear the shrieking wail, followed closely by swearing, and saw smoke billowing from the kitchen.

Peeking his head around the corner, there stood Renée, madly waving a tea towel at the fire alarm on the ceiling. "Ren?" he asked, reaching up and pressing the button effortlessly. "What the hell are you doing?"

Renée was looking fairly harassed. "I know... Cooking has never been my...strong suit. Bella was..." but her words fell short. "Well, Phil's the cook now."

Charlie's eyes turned to the charred bit of meat on a frying pan, and thought it resembled what used to be pork chops. "Well, you tried. That's all that counts, I guess."

"There's baked potatoes in the oven," she said confidently. "You can't kill a baked potato."

Charlie nodded his head, and thought that she could try and probably succeed.

"So," Renée said, wiping her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. "Any news? Did she call you again?"

"Not yet," he replied, trying not to appear neither worried, nor desperate.

"Me neither. I stayed in all day, just in case she did. Called Phil every hour, despite him insisting that he'll let me know if she does. Then I got worried because I was tying up the phone line..."

"No email?"

"It seemed like I was checking it every two minutes," she went on, looking exhausted. "You?"

"No. Nothing."

They both looked disappointed. Yesterday proved to be the first time they had heard Bella's voice in over a year. She had said she was going to come home. Immediately afterward, Charlie had called Renée, and she took the first flight out to Seattle. Truth be told, she would've driven if she'd had no other way.

"Listen, Ren, there's something I gotta tell you. I didn't want to tell you last night, as I knew you were pretty tired, but this you gotta know."

"Oh God," she replied, her fear quickly grabbing hold of her. "Oh God, Charlie... What is it? Is it Bella? Is she hurt? Is she...pregnant?" Renée said, whispering the last word with dramatic flair.

"Just...sit down."

That was possibly the worst thing he could've said, for as she sat down, her eyes immediately began to well with tears.

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Why are you crying? I haven't even said anything yet!"

"She's in trouble, isn't she?" Renée replied, sniffling.

Charlie thought a moment. "Yes..."

"With the law?" she asked, her eyes wide with presumed horror.

Upon this, Charlie thought a moment. Only he knew about the strand of Bella's hair, and its connection to the unsolved murder. He, and he alone. "Not that I know of..."

"Oh," Renée replied, settling down a bit. "Well, what then? How is she in trouble?"

Sitting beside her at the kitchen table, Charlie heaved out a sigh. How to tell? It sounded beyond crazy, and it didn't matter how he said it in his head, he dreaded her reaction. "What do you think of Edward?"

Renée could only blink at him. "Right now what do I think of him? Pretty selfish to be keeping..."

But Charlie quickly cut her off. "No, I mean...physically. What do you think of him physically?"

If Renée had looked at him strangely before, it was nothing to how she eyed him now. Would she dare tell the truth? That just looking at the boy made her think thoughts no woman should? After all, he was dating her daughter, and old enough to be her son! "Good-looking enough, I guess..." she thought it safest to reply.

"Yeah," Charlie replied hurriedly while waving his hand, seemingly anxious to get to the point without outrightly saying it. "But, do you think he looks...normal?"

Again, Renée stared at him. "I don't think he looks abnormal, if that's what you mean... Does he have a defect I should know about? A tail? I've heard of people with tails... Saw an X-Files episode once; scared the crap out of me."

"No, he doesn't have a tail," Charlie said, firmly rubbing his tired-looking eyes. "At least, I hope not." He sighed. This wasn't as easy as he thought. He wondered if he could call Carlisle. Maybe he could break the news to her better...

"Charlie, you're not making any sense, and getting me all upset, talking about tails, and Edward! What does this have to do with Bella?!"

"I didn't mentioned tails!" he said defensively. "You brought it up!"

"Well, you were talking Edward being abnormal, and I didn't know what the heck you meant! I mean, is it scars? 'Cus if it is, it's hardly his fault!"

"No, no scars..."

"Tattoos?"

Charlie took a deep breath. He'd just have to spit it out. "He's dead, Ren."

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers, and she immediately put a trembling hand to her mouth. "Oh my God! When? How? Oh, poor Bella! She'll be heartbroken! How did he die?"

Immediately, Charlie realized his mistake. "Well, I don't rightly know," he replied, stumbling.

"Oh no! Oh no..." she said, closing her eyes, and shaking her head. "Poor Bella..."

"Ren, when I said he was dead," he began, feeling a complete fool, "I didn't exactly mean that he had died recently."

Renée made a dramatic gasp. "Did Bella kill him?!"

"What? No!"

"How long? How long ago did he die?"

"I told you, I don't know!" he said, exasperated. This was coming out all wrong! "Look, he's dead, yes, but the undead. You know what I mean?"

Blinking at him, she said, "Huh?"

He bit his lip. What did it matter if it sounded crazy? It was the truth. "Edward's a vampire!"

Moments passed in which Renée seemed to study his face. In the end, her own started to shake back and forth, as though she were criticizing him. "It not nice to speak ill of the dead, Charlie. Very disrespectful..."

"What? No! He's dead, yes, but he's still living! Don't you get it? Edward's a vampire, and so is Bella!"

"Whoa, wait. What?" She thought it amazing how quickly her brain had stopped working.

Sighing and collecting the best words he could muster, Charlie calmly said, "I know it sounds beyond insane, Ren, and if you were telling this to me, I probably wouldn't believe you either, but it's true. He and his whole family are a craven of vampires, and they've sucked Bells into it."

"Coven," she corrected, her voice surprisingly steady. She looked around the room in pensive silence for several minutes, weighing what he had said. At last she looked at him. "But, they just pretend, right?"

"I...don't think so. In fact, I'm pretty sure...not pretenders," he replied, beginning to get weirded out by how calmly she was taking this. When Billy had mentioned the idea to him, he'd been about ready to rip his friend's head off.

"So...like...dead. Really dead, but walking around? Talking?"

"Yup."

She stared at him. "Get out."

"No, I'm serious."

Her eyes squinted, but she remained eerily as calm. "No way."

"I drove for six hours to their home in Oregon to get her back, but she was already long gone by the time I got there. Met a few of 'em, though. Noticed some things I hadn't before."

"Like what?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"They're cold, Ren. Physically, I mean. Personality-wise, they were...strangely nice. But their hands...ice cold. Not normal cold. Dead cold."

"Could just be some freak coincidence..."

"Oh, it's freak, alright. And believe me, I sure wish it was a coincidence."

She swallowed. Hard. "But, you don't think it is."

"No."

"Vampires... Do you have any idea how loony that sounds? What are you going to tell me next? Goblins? Werewolves? Hyena-people?"

"Hey, I'm as in the dark here, as you! All I know is what Billy told me. What he said made me think. It took a couple of months, but I tracked 'em down. I showed up at their house a ridiculous spectacle, and you know what? They admitted to it, Ren. Believe me, I only wish this was a nightmare..."

For the first time since February when she had been sick as a dog with food poisoning, she felt like she was about to vomit all over the cracked linoleum floor.

"Here. See for yourself," Charlie said, pushing something across the table at her. Gazing down, she saw a photograph. Picking it up, her breath caught in her throat, and it felt as though her heart had just been shot with Novocain.

It was her daughter, but not as she had ever seen her before. She'd have recognized that face anywhere, despite the minor alterations. It was as though Bella had grown up, and was no longer the youngster she once had been. She looked...womanly.

And dead. She also looked very dead.

"And...the blood?" Renée asked, her voice barely a whisper, it was so filled with dread.

"True, so they say."

"Dead? For real, dead?"

"Yup. And they never sleep, which struck me as strange. Makes me wonder where that whole coffin rumour got started."

Renée shuddered at the thought of seeing her daughter in a coffin, alive, but dead at the same time. Exhaling deeply, she seemed to crumble neath the weight of so much sorrow. "Our poor daughter," she whispered, barely an audible hiss. Openly she wept, and she felt his hand reach out, taking hers. He had never been one to talk of feelings, or open up. To show emotion, to let someone in would be a sign of weakness. But now, so tied together as they were in their grief, they had no shame in sharing each other's tears.

Who knows how long they would've stayed there, possibly well into the dark, not bothering to turn on a light. But, they heard the crisp sound of car doors slamming shut, and instinctively, they knew they had a caller.

Wiping their eyes, and trying to look halfway presentable, together they strode to the front door, still open from airing out Renée's attempt to cooking dinner.

There was Billy sitting in his wheelchair, a young handsome man standing behind him, his face pensive and solemn. For a fleeting moment, Charlie thought it was Jacob, only to realize in the last second that it wasn't.

"Billy," Charlie said, stiffly. It had been many long months since the two friends had seen each other. Not since the eye opening day of the argument. After that, Charlie hadn't returned Billy's calls, and in time, the phone had stopped ringing.

"Charlie. Ren, good to see you," Billy replied, smiling at the lady.

"Hey, Charlie," Renée replied, studying the strangeness between the two. "It's been a long time. This your boy?"

"Oh, no," Billy replied, not being able to mask the sadness in his voice. "This here's Quil. He helps me out from time to time. Comes to visit me. Hope you don't mind, Charlie, us popping in like this."

"Not at all," Charlie replied to the dirt, edging it with his shoe.

"Thought it best to bury the hatchet," Billy continued on as though Charlie hadn't said anything.

It was obvious to Renée that whatever had gone on between them, they were both now sorry for it. "How 'bout you both come in? I'm afraid I've ruined dinner, but..."

"Oh, dinner's on me!" Billy replied, his face suddenly glowing at the invitation. "Got a good ol' plate of fish fry and some cold beer. What do ya say, Charlie?"

Looking sheepishly at his friend, knowing full well that he had three pairs of eyes on him, he replied, "Well, c'mon in then, while it's warm and the beer's still cold."

Billy grinned for the first time in months, and felt elated to be welcomed back into a house he feared he'd never set back into again. Their past confrontation had hit him hard. No Jacob. No Charlie. Quil was the only one paying him consistent visits these days. It was pretty clear he missed Jacob almost as much as Billy did. In the end, it had been Quil's constant nagging that drove Billy there that day. It just seemed time to forgive past wrongs, and move on with life.

Charlie took the bag of fish fry from his friend, only to have it taken from him by Renée. One thing she was certain: she could handle a microwave. After pushing Billy inside, Quil disappeared out the front door, heading back to the car to fetch the brewskies.

Now alone, Charlie and Billy cleared their throats, avoided each other's gaze, and searched their minds for something half decent to say.

"How's the fishing lately?" Charlie said at last, thinking it harmless enough.

"Pulled a seven pound trout out of the lake the other day."

"Seven pounds?" Charlie repeated, his left eyebrow raised.

"Yup." Silence ensued again, though it was far from comfortable. "You go fishing much?"

"Not since..." but Charlie let the sentence die in his mouth. No sense bringing up bad feelings. "Not much this summer, no."

Billy nodded his head, and thought he'd take a risk. Didn't hurt nothing. "I'm going out in the boat this Saturday. If you want, there's room."

Charlie looked away, uncomfortable. He had actually felt his heart swell in his chest. "Sounds alright."

Billy nodded his head, and the eavesdropping Quil finally felt that he could go back inside without disturbing anything. The boys had made up, and they could get eating. Man, he was starving! He'd smelled the fish fry cooking an hour ago, and then was forced to sit with it on his lap for the ride over.

"It's ready!" Renée hollered from the kitchen, and wheeling Billy in, the four sat down and ate. They'd even managed to salvage Renée's potatoes.

A few swigs of beer, and Renée felt bold enough to talk some talk. "So, Billy... What's all this stuff about Bella being a vampire?"

Quil's reaction was swift, unfortunately for Charlie, as he had been sitting across from him. He got sprayed with a mouthful of beer. Embarrassed to his fingertips, and gagging on his beer, Quil could only ogle at Renée's abruptness.

Strangely, Billy didn't seem all that surprised. He thumped Quil on the back a couple of times, and then turned to see Charlie wipe himself down with a smoky tea towel. Suddenly, Bill seemed very interested in pushing his food around his plate. After all, his big mouth is what had gotten him in this mess in the first place. The last thing he wanted was to be booted out of his friend's house after they had just set things right. "Whatcha want to know, Ren?"

"Is it true?" Her tender eyes searched his face.

"Understand," Billy replied, "that this was never my secret to tell, and that by doing so, I've put my family, my tribe, in a whole heap of trouble. However, it's said now, and I can't change that."

They seemed to wait with baited breath, saying nothing. After a while, he realized that he had yet to answer her question directly. It pained him to say it. "Yeah, Ren. It's true."

"How did you know?" she immediately asked, as though the question had been on her mind a long time. She seemed now the inquisitor, the detective, and not her former husband.

"Jake told me," Billy replied, carefully avoiding Charlie's eyes. "Saw her, he said, some months back. Wasn't too happy about it at first..."

Swallowing her dry throat, and determinedly fighting back tears, she asked, "And, the stories about vampires, are they true? They're...dead?"

Billy could feel the tension emanating from both Renée and Charlie. Treading carefully, he replied, "Carlisle's family's different, I'll be honest with you. They don't feed on people as other vamps do. But, yes, they're dead. You wouldn't think it, but they're pretty good at strolling around like regular people, blending in."

Without warning, Quil's eyes suddenly became dangerously dark. "They'd get away with it, too, if it weren't for the stench," he growled, earning a swift angry glance from Billy. It did the trick. He promptly shut up, but the damage was done.

Charlie zeroed in on it immediately. "What do you mean, the stench?"

Quick to put on a smile, Billy replied, "Oh, you know. Vamps are very sweet smelling. Helps lure their victims in. Gives them a false sense of security. He didn't mean anything by it," he added, giving Quil another warning glance.

It wasn't until nearly midnight that the pickup truck rumbled away into the distance. Abandoning the table and all the dishes on it for much desirable beds and rest, Charlie and Renée both crept up the stairs to their separate bedrooms, and slept soundly into the night. Occasionally, Renée had the odd dream of Bella, surrounded in mist, pale as a ghost, always just beyond reach.

The following day brought with it a surprise for Charlie. He had gone to work, and got a amazing amount of work done. Mending the rift with Billy seemed to have done him wonders, and he thought there might be hope yet for Bella, too.

If, that was, she would just come home. He prayed she would just come back home.

His shift now at an end, he made his way back homeward, and for the first time in over a year, was glad knowing there would be someone there. He handled the loneliness alright. It hadn't driven him stark, raving mad. Not yet, at least. But, one thing he couldn't argue with. He sure did like the company, even if it was just for a short time.

And there he found Renée, sitting on the edge of the sofa, a clipboard and pen in hand as she studied the television as though about to take a test.

"Hey, Ren," he greeted her as he came in, hanging his gun up by the door.

She didn't even look up, she seemed so captivated by what was unfolding on screen. "Hey, Charlie," she replied quietly, her eyes glued to the boob tube.

He finally took a gander, wondering what was so fascinating. Cocking his head to its side, he marvelled at what he saw. "What the heck is that?"

That was the first time Renée glanced up from the television. She looked at Charlie oddly. "That's a vampire."

Charlie, however, looked far from convinced. "No, what show is that?"

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," she replied. "Luckily Blockbuster had them on rental. I was about to buy, but my God are they expensive!"

"But...what's wrong with his face?" Charlie asked, pointing to the screen, where a bald, fanged vampire, his skin white as snow, stood talking to evil-looking minions. "What's with the bumps?"

"Don't they have bumps?" she asked, surprised.

"I don't think so..." Of course, he wasn't sure. It's not as though the vampires he knew had tried to eat him.

"Not even when they get mad, and...all vampy?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Huh," Renée replied, turning her attention back to the screen.

Charlie stood there a minute, watching both the show and his ex-wife. "Whatcha writing?"

"Just making notes. Trying to come up with ways to kill them."

"Is there something you want to tell me? Are you planning on killing Bella?"

"No!" she replied incredulously. "But, I had a thought. What if they won't give her back? I thought it'd be good to have a back-up plan."

"Huh," was his turn to reply. "So, whatcha got for weapons?"

"A wooden stake seems to be the most popular," she replied, her pen in hand.

"Somehow, I have doubts about that..."

"Why?"

"They're strong, Ren. I'm not sure a piece of wood would stop 'em."

Disappointed, Renée scratched 'wooden stake' off her list. "Garlic?"

"That one I know for certain. Nope. Doesn't work."

'Garlic' followed the same fate as 'wooden stake.'

"Holy Water?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.

Shaking his head, Charlie replied, "Nope."

Sneering, she continued to scratch. Her list was getting smaller by the minute. "Crucifixes. Surely, crucifixes!"

His memory still fresh, he replied confidently, "Uh uh."

Renée could not help but feel more and more disheartened. "Sunlight?"

"Huh." Charlie was stuck. This was one he did not know about. Would it be wrong for him to call up Carlisle and ask, knowing that he secretly planned to use it against him if need be? "Don't know about sunlight."

Happily, Renée circled the last remaining item on her list. "Oh! What about bullets?"

"Uh, trust me," Charlie replied, heading upstairs to change out of his uniform. "Bullets don't work."

That night, they settled down to watch a marathon on Buffy episodes. Renée had to catch Charlie up on the goings on, and one thing he felt for certain. He didn't like this 'Angel' guy one bit...

"But, he has a soul!" Renée said dreamily. "Hmm... I wonder if Edward has a soul..."

"I wouldn't count on it," Charlie replied darkly.

So, what did you think? I hope you found it amusing. I had a lot of fun writing it! I'm not sure if there are any Buffy fans out there, but I was in love with Buffy way before Twilight was just a glint in Stephenie Meyer's eye.

I chose not to include this chapter for the same reasons as 'Garlic and Holy Water.' Just too much attention away from Bella and Edward, and I wanted Renee being in Forks to be a surprise.

Another one is already in the works. However, I'm open to suggestions and ideas. What do YOU want to read about? I can't make any promises, but make a suggestion. You never know where it'll get you.

Please let me know what you think when you REVIEW!