Author's Note: A special thanks to Ame Warashi for the idea for this chapter – Carlisle was tougher than I anticipated. Thanks to LovinTopazEyes91 for the inspiration for the gift in this chapter - and thanks to everyone else that came up with ideas! Also, to passionfornight, for giving me the best review I've ever received – thank you! In this chapter, Bella manages to find danger in the most mundane of activities.

Chapter Five:

Carlisle

Edward thought that helping a medical expert would be the safest activity for me, so I was stuck standing in Dr. Cullen's office, while he tried to decide how I could help, and subsequently appease his neurotic son.

"I really don't mind, Carlisle," I began, trying to relieve the awkwardness. "Edward's just freaking out over nothing."

Carlisle chuckled, "Over you, not over nothing."

We stood there, surveying the already-pristine room. After five minutes, Edward rushed in and stood threateningly close to his father.

"Nothing heavy." He growled.

"Books aren't heavy." Carlisle commented, but then turned to me, and seemed to make a mental note. "Okay, maybe books are heavy."

"Thank you." He said, turning to the door.

"Now then," Carlisle began, but was once more interrupted by Edward's reminder.

"Something safe!"

Eventually, Dr. Cullen pointed to some file cabinets. "Why don't you start in the top one, and for each folder, separate anything over ten years old into that box."

I nodded and made my way to the back wall. The cabinets were taller than they looked – threateningly taller. I took a deep breath and stood to my tiptoes, reaching for the handle of the top drawer.

I expected a drawer filled with files to be heavy, so I gave the handle a good yank – sending the heavy metal drawer flying into my forehead, which in turn sent me flying into a bookcase.

"Bella!" I heard Carlisle and Edward scream simultaneously. I made a move to sit up, only to find a cold hand holding me down.

"Stay outside Edward," Carlisle warned, though my boyfriend didn't need to hear it – I'm sure the entire house could smell the blood dripping from my aching forehead.

I groaned as I tried to sit up when Carlisle moved to find his medical bag – lovingly dubbed "the Bella bag" by Emmett. Not only did I have a bleeding forehead and a satisfied neurotic boyfriend who stood in the hallway thinking about drinking me dry; I had a headache.

"How are you doing?" Carlisle asked as he returned, cleaning my cut and making me lie back down.

"You wouldn't happen to have any aspirin?" I pleaded, making the mistake of looking up at the doctor, who was now busy fixing my forehead. I closed my eyes and willed the smell to go away, but couldn't. I marveled at the irony – both Edward and I were in agony because I was bleeding.

"Do you feel like you're going to pass out?" Carlisle asked in his kindly bedside-manner voice. I grunted in response, unable to form a coherent answer to his question.

Moments later, I found myself being carried to a plush leather chair, and I opened my eyes to find my boyfriend entering the room with a glass of water and some Tylenol.

"My hero," I muttered gratefully before I swallowed and took a deep breath. Esme was already in the back of the room, cleaning any residual blood from my accident, and Carlisle was putting away his bag.

"You are a danger to yourself," Edward laughed dryly, glaring at his father.

"I think I'm more of a danger to everyone else," I commented, as the vampires scurried around me.

"Let's just hope that you don't have a concussion," Edward said, his cool hand relieving the burning sensation from where I'd received the stitches.

After a half hour, Edward returned to whatever had kept him occupied all day – possibly finding a way to stuff all of my hand-me-downs from his family into his car and my truck. Esme had finished cleaning, and I was grateful for the overwhelming smell of bleach, instead of the nauseating smell of my own blood.

Carlisle opened each drawer and stacked the files for me, in order to avoid another mishap, and returned to a small cupboard next to his bookshelves. I realized that the pile reached well over my head, and sighing, stood on my tiptoes once more to pluck a file from the top.

Unfortunately, neither I nor the stack of papers had as wonderful balance as rest of the house's inhabitants. As I fell amidst a sea of papers, I heard a distraught yell from the door, "She's drowning!"

There was plenty of noise as seven vampires hurried into the room and attempted to offset the effects of stampeding paperwork. As the dust cleared, I found myself being pulled from the mess by a worried looking Esme. I sat down away from the paper mountain, representing the death of several Bolivian rain forests, and caught my breath. When I looked up, I smiled sheepishly at the six pairs of worried eyes. Surprised, I turned and find the seventh kindly vampire crouching next to me.

"Bella," Dr. Cullen began, "ironically enough, I didn't intend to be one of the masses showering you with gifts today, but I did buy this for you last week."

I looked at what he held in his hands – a white plastic box with a red cross adorning the top.

"Thank you!" I surprised myself by hugging my benefactor, genuinely grateful for the gift. After all, I am a danger to myself.