A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying some more time with Constructionward and his Dancerella. Remember: this will update all the way through Friday.

Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.

Outtake: The Future – Part 3

Rose arrives a little while later. Sue is watching the baby, so she's got roughly ninety minutes before she's got to get home and nurse little Emmett Junior. Edward sleeps through her entire visit, and when she leaves, relieved to see that her brother is in fact going to live, I promise to keep her updated.

Edward does wake when Mel arrives, but he's still a bit groggy and falls asleep again within ten minutes. While he rests, Mel and I stand just outside his door, discussing his out-of-sorts condition.

"Boy, the anesthesia really did a number on him!" Mel says.

"Yeah, it has. He'll be fine though."

"Ugh, he's such an idiot!"

Apparently, the warm fuzzies for her uncle have evaporated.

"Mel."

"Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but he could've died!"

"Well, let's thank God he didn't, shall we? And let's hope that he realizes how stupid his actions were."

"You think he will?" she asks, raising a brow skeptically. "You know how Uncle Edward can be."

"It was kind of hard to have a rational talk with him while he was awake, but yes, I do think he will."

Carlisle and Esme are the next visitors, but Edward misses them as well because he doesn't wake up until much later when visiting hours are over and only his spouse may remain. He's finally much more clear-headed; though by the way he winces, grimaces and squeezes his eyes shut every few seconds, he's also in a lot of pain.

"Do you want me to ask the nurses to give you something?" I ask.

He shakes his head stoically. "No. No, I'm fine."

"But if you need a pain reliever-"

"I'm fine, Bella." His voice brooks no room for discussion. In fact, as drunk and mellow as he was while under the effects of the anesthesia, he's woken up a cranky fuck.

"You missed everyone's visits."

"I saw Mel, and other than you, there's no one else I want to see."

The doctor eventually comes and has a talk with Edward and me about the procedure and about what's going to be required for his recovery. The entire time, Edward watches him distrustfully.

"When can I go home?" he asks the second the doctor is done.

"Possibly tomorrow, perhaps the day after. We'll see."

"And when can I get back to work?"

"Not for a couple of months at least, Mr. Cullen."

Edward shakes his head. "That's not an option."

"Edward."

"No," Edward says curtly. "Maybe I can stay home for a week or two, but-"

"Mr. Cullen, you've had a severe shoulder dislocation, in addition to torn ligaments. You need to let that heal. If you try to push yourself before your shoulder is ready, you will end up with permanent damage."

"I have to work."

"What you have to do is allow that shoulder to heal," I say, trying to keep my own temper in check. "Now between our savings and the studio, we can certainly afford for you to stay home as long as you need."

He glares at me as if I've somehow just betrayed him.

"Besides," I say, trying to sound much more soothing, "It'll give us more time together."

OOOOOOOOOO

Three days into Edward's medically-forced two month vacation, I'm ready to fucking kill him. If there were a poster child for acerbic, moody, broody and ungrateful ass, Edward would be it.

He insists he has to get back to work, that it doesn't feel right for me to be supporting us for the next few months. I call him a male, chauvinist pig.

"Damn right," he says.

Needless to say, he's been in no mood to find out he's about to be a father – and I've been in no mood to tell him.

"What about Mel?" he complains one morning.

We're sitting in bed, and I'm kneeling behind him, massaging his neck and good shoulder to see if a rub down will ease the crankiness, but he keeps right on bitching. He feels tight and stiff, and though it's usually such a pleasurable and sensual experience to touch and squeeze his strong, sinewy muscles, right now I just want to squeeze my hands around his neck.

"We were supposed to take her to Puerto Rico this summer. It was her graduation present. Now what, she's gotta forego her own graduation present because some stupid, know-it-all doctor says I've gotta stay put?"

I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to choke the shit out of him.

"I've spoken to my Abuela, and we've decided that Mel can go with Becca instead. Mel's okay with the new plan."

"I like the way I was consulted in this new plan," he says acerbically.

I stop my ministrations. "Do you have a better solution?"

He's sullenly silent. "No."

"All right then," I say, resuming the massage.

"But don't you think that Mel's too young to go on vacation without us? Ow! What the hell?"

It takes all my mental fortitude to ease up on the pressure before I rub him into the ground.

"Edward, pick an argument here. Do you want to find a solution so that Mel doesn't miss out on her graduation present, or do you want to make an eighteen-year-old young woman stay home until her aunt and uncle can accompany her? Either way, we're not going to Puerto Rico this summer."

"Never mind," he hisses. "You seem to have all the answers anyway."

I hold back the expletives on the tip of my tongue, as well as the desire to scream at him that maybe if he hadn't been so fucking stupid and crossed the scaffold without a harness, we'd all be going on vacation this coming summer, lying on the warm sand...

Even me and my big belly.

I lie awake in bed at night, thinking about the baby I haven't told him of yet.

But when am I supposed to do it? In between his glowering at me for forcing him to take it easy? Or do I tell him in between his huffing and puffing when I call my director to tell him that the understudy is going to have to fill in for me as Maria for the next couple of weeks? Or should I tell him while he's glaring accusingly at Mel when she insists that she and Jake will have no problem taking over the afternoon classes for the next couple of weeks so that I can stay home with him? Angie is busy with last minute wedding prep; then she'll be gone on her honeymoon for a couple of weeks, so Mel, Jessica and Jake will be working together along with the rest of the staff.

"Uncle Edward," Mel says across the table the next morning, when Edward has been home for four days that feel like four months. "You really are being a pain in the ass here."

"Why?" he questions. "Because I don't like being made to feel useless?"

I roll my eyes to the sky, trying to ignore him while I take a scalding sip from my morning café con leche. I know I have to quit coffee now that I'm pregnant, but the baby-daddy here has my nerves so shot to hell right now that if I don't have one morning cup of coffee, I'm afraid I may murder him once Mel leaves for school. He's only got one good shoulder right now. I've got a pair of really strong, dancer's legs.

I can take him.

"No," Mel responds, "because you've always told me that I should realize when I'm being childish, yet you obviously don't see how you're acting like a baby right now."

"No," he says shortly. "You're all trying to treat me like a baby."

"Hell no; one baby is more than enough," I mutter under my breath.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I snort.

Mel purses her lips, turning her blue eyes to me. "All right, Aunt Bella. Good luck with Mr. Cranky Pants today."

I snort once more, blindly sipping my coffee.

"And don't worry about the studio. I've got it under control."

"All right, thanks Mellita. Hey, Jessica's supposed to be off today, but she said she wouldn't mind coming in if you think you and Jake need more help?"

Mel frowns. "Uhm…no, we've got it."

"Okie dokie," I smile.

OOOOOOOOOO

As soon as I turn off the shower, I hear the dim roar of work tools followed by the sound of ripping and tearing - all of it accompanied by some heavy grunting.

"That fucker better not even be…" I mutter as I wrap a towel around myself and quickly step out of the bathtub.

Sure enough, when I slip and slide into the dining room, almost breaking my neck as I drip all over the wood floors, I find Edward crouched in front of a wall, ripping off the wainscoting we'd decided we were going to replace in a couple of months. He's doing the entire thing one-handed because his other arm is bandaged tightly against his chest to keep the shoulder he shouldn't be moving AT ALL in place.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

"I think it's pretty obvious," he says, without even turning to look at me.

"But...but," I splutter, "you're supposed to be taking it easy!"

"Bella, I'm fine." His tone implies that I'm being extremely ridiculous – all as he pulls off some more pieces of the wall, groaning and grunting through the whole thing.

And I stand there watching him, dripping wet and clenching my fists tightly around the towel covering me while my soaking hair splatters all over our wood floors. Yet though I'm trying my absolute best to burn a hole through his head with my eyes, he apparently doesn't feel it.

"If you mess up that shoulder," I hiss through my teeth, "you'd better NOT come crying to me."

"Got it."

A/N: Thoughts?

Twitter: PattyRosa817

Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.

Another update tomorrow!