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Cupcakes, part four

By Ren

I don't recall how long we had been like this: Edward's arms around me, my arms around his neck, our lips quite… occupied. Despite the obvious oddity of the statement, I felt completely… right, and whole, snuggled into the arms of a man whose heart had rested physically and emotionally for nearly eighty years, and now beat figuratively again for me, and only me.

His lips slowly pulled up from mine but hovered a breath away. I leaned closer, wanting to feel those stone cold lips once more. He chuckled softly – his sweet breath blew across my face and tussled the thin strands of hair framing my visage.

"Bella… you need to learn to breathe." Right. Breathing. I suppose it was important to me. …for now. I took a slow deep breath and unwillingly opened my eyes to stare up into his. Edward's playful, crooked smile stole my breath away and made my heart stutter slightly. His eyes, however, were far more intense than his playful smile. His eyes gave everything away; his longing, his desire, his hunger and even his thirst when it was present. Right now, it was not. His golden eyes harbored hunger though, hunger for the body of a woman. One woman: me. It made my knees go weak.

Gently, he lowered his lips to my forehead, brushing them across my skin, cooling it – and igniting a raging blush on my cheeks at the same time. My eyelids closed as I savored every aspect about him. His hands on my waist; his touch, his scent… Slowly, his lips trailed down; they pressed against my temple, then my cheekbone, down to my jaw, up to my nose… and then he kissed my lips softly again. A flutter of a kiss – a butterfly kiss. He planted two more on my face; one upon each closed eyelid.

"Edward…?" I don't think I was very coherent, but he seemed to understand just the same. He answered my own slurred syllables with a low 'Mmm?' noise, seemingly undistracted from his feather-kisses.

"What's… burning…?" Again, I murmured, only faintly aware of anything outside my little bubble. Everything in my bubble demanded my utmost attention, and for the time being, 'everything in my bubble' was defined as Edward Cullen.

"Kind of… smells like cupcakes…" He kept right on kissing me; as completely undisturbed as I was by the scent of burning something. Burning cupcakes.

"The cupcakes!" I shrieked loudly, startling us both from our bubble. Edward looked away from me toward the oven. I had no choice but to peel my eyes away from him to address the current emergency as well. Detangling myself from Edward, I scrambled over to the oven.

I'll admit, it was stupid, as were most things I executed without thinking. Sometimes the things I did were stupid despite thinking. Thoughtlessly, I pulled open the door and reached inside just as Edward cried out a warning.

"Bella!" But I had already grabbed the metal pan with the cupcakes and almost instantly felt a searing pain rush from my fingertips up through my forearm to my upper arm and shoulder. On instinct, I dropped the hot metal pan. I think I cried out in pain – a scream, maybe a shriek, I don't remember. My thoughts were blurred by the fire in my arm; it was even making my shoulder ache.

Then, it was cool. Just like that. I opened my eyes slowly. Through the tears, I could make out Edward clasping my hand between his two cold palms. I sniffled and smiled weakly as I wiped away the tears with my good hand.

Edward's worried expression didn't fade, even as I smiled in spite of the dulling pain.

"Bella…? Does it still hurt? Are you alright? What were you thinking!?"

"…I wasn't. Obviously," I said dryly. Edward let out a low, relieved chuckle, and then leaned forward. He kissed my cheek and pulled back, taking with his kiss the last of my tears.

Slowly, he started to pull his palms away. Quickly, I averted my eyes. I did not want to see what my hand – my right hand, my dominant hand! – would look like. I could feel Edward turn it over in his hands, brushing his fingers over it. I winced slightly. I was sure there would be blisters. At the least.

"…well?" I was afraid of the answer. "What's the damage?" I glanced to Edward, careful not to look at my upturned palm in his hands. His golden eyes rose to meet mine, a faint smile on his lips. I felt his cold hands close around mine again.

"It's not bad. Not bad at all. For someone who's such a danger magnet, you sure are lucky in spite of it. Still, I think Carlisle should look at it. Here, when he gets home. We don't have to go to the hospital. Unless you want to?"

"No! Not at all! But we don't need to trouble him with my stupid klutzy self."

"Bella, be reasonable. Please. For me. You sure have a knack for nearly giving me a heart attack – it's quite a feat, I assure you." I made a dramatic show of rolling my eyes before I consented, just so he would know how much I disapproved.

"Fine. But the cupcakes… I dropped… where are… they?" Edward pointed over to the counter with his head. There, sitting innocently, upright and perfectly untouched, was the tray of cupcakes. "…how?"

"I caught it. It didn't burn me. Well, I didn't really hold it long enough to let it, even if it could."

"Oh." I nibbled on my bottom lip nervously.

"Shall we make a new batch? We need more than twelve, don't we?" He tilted his head to the side curiously. I nodded in assent. Before I could protest, he had disappeared from my side, and then appeared within a few seconds holding a white cloth. "Let me see your hand, Bella."

I eyed the thin scrap dangerously.

"…What for..?" Edward sighed with exasperation.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Which way would you like to do it?" I could feel my lips press into a thin line; Edward's lips quirked into a smirk in response. With another exaggerated sigh, I thrust out my hand towards him. Before I could change my mind, he had neatly wrapped my wounded hand in the thin cloth and tied it gently. "Not too tight, is it?"

"Not at all."

"And it won't fall off?"

"Only if I can help it," I muttered. Edward laughed and wound his arm around my waist, leaning down to kiss my cheek before leading me to the counter. Hesitantly, I poked the metal tray. Metal was amazing. It could absorb heat quickly, but just the same, it gave it off quickly. The metal was just slightly above room temperature now. Despite expecting it, I was still surprised that I had burned my hand on it a mere few minutes ago.

Edward began at one end and I, the other. Together, we worked to the middle, carefully lifting the little cupcakes in their paper wrappers out of the tray, and setting them neatly onto a plate. The cupcakes, although in a quickly-cooling tray, were still quite warm. They couldn't be frosted until they had cooled, otherwise the frosting would turn to liquid and run off. I explained this effect to Edward as we did our routine. I placed the paper cups, he poured the batter.

I guessed we would have enough batter for maybe another two dozen after this set, giving us close to forty-eight cupcakes. That would be plenty for class. I wondered what would happen to the extras.

Once finished, Edward pointedly took the tray from my hands and proceeded to the oven and set it inside. I sighed. I wasn't stupid enough to burn myself twice. And I had burned my hand taking the tray out, not putting it in, in my defense. Shutting the door, he turned to look at me speculatively.

"You don't have any idea how long those took, do you? Even though they smelled like they were on fire, they turned out perfect." I had to agree with him; they were a light golden-brown; the perfect consistency. I had performed the toothpick test, only I had had to use a knife. The Cullens didn't have much use for toothpicks – the idea made me chuckle, much to Edward's frustration - and I hadn't thought to get any at the store. I slid the knife down through the center of the cupcake from the top and then pulled it straight back out. The rule of thumb was if the knife came out clean, they were cooked through. If dough stuck to it, they were too gooey and needed to cook longer. The knife had been spotless.

"I have no idea. I was a bit distracted, you know. I'd guess maybe… half an hour?" He nodded as he picked up a timer and started pressing buttons on it. "We can always check them after that, anyway, and leave them longer if they aren't finished."

Edward turned his attention on the front door. Even I heard it; but only when I listened carefully: the soft 'thud' of the front door closing. If Edward hadn't been listening so obviously, I wouldn't have bothered to strain my ears to try to listen, too, and I would've missed the sound.

"Carlisle's home," he said at last. He turned his soft golden gaze down at me. I melted, just like frosting on a hot cupcake. "Shall we go pay him a visit? He's in his office." As much as I wanted to tell him no, to say I was fine, all I could do was nod like an idiot. Stupid dazzling.

Edward took my good hand in his, laced his fingers with mine and tugged my dazed body out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and led me up the stairs. We went down another familiar hallway, past that antiqued cross, and paused in front of a door. Edward knocked on it softly.

"Come in," Carlisle spoke softly from within. I let out a soft groan as Edward opened the door and pulled my reluctant self inside.

"Bella burned her hand and I was wondering if you would look at it – against her wishes, I might add – and just make sure it's alright." The doctor was seated behind his desk, some books open in front of him. I wondered vaguely how many times he had read them. Edward tugged me into the room by my good hand, and then took my bandaged one.

Carlisle reached for it, and surrendering, I sank into the chair across from him. I let him take my hand across the desk and slowly begin unwrapping Edward's bandage. I felt his cold fingers press gingerly into my palm, touching places I imagined were burned. I couldn't tell because his fingers were so cold. Were a human doctor doing the same, my hand would probably be burning beneath the touch. Despite what Jacob thought, there were perks to being with the vampires. Especially for the accident-prone like myself. Edward could be my personal icepack if he wanted to.

The silence dragged on. After a moment, I glanced up to see Edward staring at Carlisle. Once in a while, Carlisle would glance up to Edward and Edward would either close his eyes and open them, or press his lips into a thin line. They were carrying on a conversation without me. Uhg. Even with the perks, there were some disadvantages. Like Edward's gift. I sighed. Carlisle glanced to me suddenly, then he looked a bit sheepish.

"Sorry Bella," he spoke slowly, then turned his attention down to my hand again. "Your hand seems to be fine. It will probably be a little tender for a while, but Edward was right. There's no serious damage. Your human instincts kicked in after you grabbed the pan, at least. You dropped it before it damaged the tissue." I laughed dryly.

"At least my instincts work half the time, right?" I felt Edward tense beside me slightly. Carlisle just smiled honestly.

"Really, Bella. You should think higher of yourself." I glanced away as I blushed. "But about your hand. Would you like an icepack for a bit? At least until the burn cools?" I couldn't help but look back to him and grin.

"Thank you, but I think I have that covered," I said. I looked to Edward as I took his hand gently with my burnt one. His hand closed gently around mine before he brought it up to his lips, placing a single kiss on each of my fingertips. My heart stuttered with each kiss. It was even more embarrassing in front of Carlisle.

Lowering our hands but not yet relinquishing mine, Edward guided me to the door. Eager to change the subject, and hopefully dispel my crimson blush, I tried to revert the conversation to the first thing I could think of.

"What were you talking about? With Carlisle?" Edward glanced down to me and smiled faintly.

"He was scolding me for smearing cabbage all over the inside of Emmett's jeep. He was pretty upset," Edward chuckled darkly, clearly not at all ashamed of his actions.

"Really? That was all?" Edward just nodded, still smirking. "We should check the cupcakes. They might be done soon." Edward nodded absentmindedly, his expression changed now from devious to thoughtful. I watched his expression as I walked along beside him, our hands still together. He had a very far-away expression on his face. Was he listening to someone?

"What is it," I pressed him. He just shook his head in response.

"I don't know… yet."

As soon as we entered the kitchen, I could tell Edward knew then. There, where our plate of beautiful, perfect, made-with-tender-love-and-care cupcakes had rested was, instead, a plate with… something else.

Edward was at the counter where the plate was in a heartbeat, holding a note in his hands. Within a second, he'd read it, and was handing it to me. As soon as I took it, he had opened the oven to see if the second batch of cupcakes were still there. They, too, were gone, along with the bowl of unbaked batter. The note was short and to the point:

"If you ever want to see your cupcakes again…. I don't know, I'll think of something later. But I have them! Hahaha!

Please see Rosalie for the ransom arrangements, and have a nice day."

What the…? And what was that smell!? I glanced over to the plate. Something mushy and green and white was sitting there in a pile.

"Edward… what is that? It smells gross. Like a rotting vegetable." Edward's nose wrinkled slightly. My beautiful god resembled a destroying angel at the moment, as he glared at the greenish-whitish mush. Through tight lips and clenched teeth, Edward uttered one word that sent the paper in my hands fluttering to the floor.

"Cabbage."