Sadly, I can't take a pain pill and drink, but I can take Advil, so I get home—leaving the litter in my car for Jasper to grab—and head inside and pop a few while I wait for Rosalie. I pull out my bottle of rum as she pulls into Edward's driveway and grab a glass for her wine. Heading out back, I turn on the firepit and pull two lounge chairs closer to it with a table between them. Ulysses explores the deck, but doesn't dare go down the stairs. I think he's afraid of leaves, to be honest.

Rosalie comes over from the back yard, bottle of red wine in hand.

"God, it's so much nicer here than Baltimore," she says, sitting down in the lounge chair next to me while I pour her first glass.

"That's where you live?"

She nods. "It's where our family is. Our dad is a trauma surgeon and moved us around a lot as kids. Seattle, Chicago, Miami, then lastly Baltimore where he took a chief position. He finally retired this year, but now, he runs a free clinic, which is honestly more work for him."

"What do you do for a living?"

"Oh, I'm a plastic surgeon. I mostly do breast reconstruction for cancer survivors."

"And yet I'm the hero when you're a family full of doctors."

She shrugs. "We don't get shot, stabbed, or hit by baseball bats."

"I've yet to be stabbed, thank you very much."

"Didn't you get shot by a paintball gun a while back?"

I take a sip and nod. "Yes. Right in the forehead. I had a welt for a week."

"You're a danger magnet, Chief," she says with a laugh, taking a sip of her wine.

"Maybe, but I love my job. And I'm good at it."

I chug a little bit of my rum and Coke and relish the feel of being tipsy.

"So, what can I do to get under your brother's skin more? I like annoying him."

She smiles, sipping her wine. "You like him, don't you?"

I shake my head and pretend to throw up. "God, no. I like annoying him and beating his ass at baking, but I don't like him. He's anal retentive. His notes annoy the shit out of me."

She nods. "Okay. Sure. It's just … I think you two would be a good match."

"We're polar opposites."

"Which works sometimes. But forget I said anything. Let's discuss this bake off. He thinks he can beat you."

"Ha! Good luck to him."

"I wouldn't think so little of him. He had our mom teach him, so he's got a pretty good understanding of baking. He came home one fall weekend after moving here and begged her to teach him everything she knows, and she has. He said he had to beat the Chief of Police."

"He hasn't beaten me yet, and this year we're both going for the clover, which is winning all four categories."

"Yeah, that's why I'm here. I'm his taste tester."

"I have cookie dough brownies, if you want to taste them."

Her eyes widen. "Oh, yes! That sounds delicious."

I finish off my first rum and Coke and run inside, grabbing some of the dessert for her and refilling my drink. She ohs and ahs as she eats, and I know I've got a winner.

"Okay, this beats his pumpkin bars," she says, still moaning. "But he's got a killer cake and pie."

"I'm making a carrot cake and red velvet cupcakes. The pie is blueberry, which I know he's copying."

She nods. "He is. And it's really good. I'd be slightly concerned when it comes to the pie part. The others I think you'll beat him in, but what do I know?"

"I think I have him beat in every category." I sip my rum and Coke all cool like. "He's an amateur. I'm the pro."

She laughs. "You do seem to sweep the competition. Mind if I pour another glass."

I shake my head. "Be my guest, Rose."

We enjoy drinking and talking to each other. She's a pretty cool chick. I can't believe I thought she was another conquest of Edward's. She's way too good for that. We get drunk as we talk about her little brother. I find out he was a nerd with glasses, which mirrors myself. I had Lasik done before I started the academy, and he had his done in medical school. He's never been married, no hidden kids, or anything. He's spent his life following in his dad's footsteps, just like me.

I guess we have a lot more in common than I realized.

Around six, we're both pretty drunk, and Edward comes home. He stands on his back porch with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What the hell are you two doing?" he asks.

I lift my glass and Rose lifts hers. "We're getting drunk and shitting on you," I say with a snide chuckle. "Join us."

He huffs and crosses the lawn, climbing up my stairs. "I can't believe you got my sister drunk," he says, pulling a chair over. "What have you been over here saying, Rosalie? Giving away all my secrets."

She looks at him innocently. "No," she says slowly. "Okay, some. I can see why you like her."

He scoffs. "I never said I liked her."

I grin. "Aww, but you do. I've grown on you."

"Well, I don't dislike you, so there's that. You're not taking pain pills with that alcohol, right?"

"Nope. I took Advil. I'm smarter than I look, Doc."

He nods. "Good. I should get my wasted sister home."

She chugs the last of her glass and burps. "I'm not that drunk."

She is that drunk.

"Sure thing, Rose. Let's get you up."

"Take off her heels," I say, knowing she's going to stumble.

He does as I say and gets her to her feet—albeit rather shakily. She's so far gone, and eventually, Edward just picks her up and carries her home. I wish them a good night, and then clean up the deck, bringing Ulysses in.

Man, that was fun.

I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to Ashley, May, and Mary prereading and Sally for beta'ing.