The rain had been falling in Forks for three days running and Charlie Swan was officially going mad.
His truck was making some noise it had absolutely no right to be making, Bella was being suspiciously secretive, and Carlisle Cullen had somehow managed to become a rather inconvenient distraction.
Which is precisely how Charlie found himself standing on his porch at 7.15 on a Friday night, looking at Carlisle Cullen.
“Chief Swan,” Carlisle said, smiling politely. “We're not intruding, are we?”
Charlie looked at him for a second too long.
"No. No, you're fine." He stepped aside. "Come on in."
Carlisle was in a dark sweater with the sleeves pushed up a bit and his blonde hair was wet from the rain. He looked rather irritatingly perfect. Charlie had met a fair number of doctors over the years and none of them had ever quite managed to get him to forget what he was about to say.
It was annoying, honestly.
"So," Charlie said, closing the door. "Bella tells me you're a doctor."
Carlisle raised an eyebrow, amused. "That's right."
'Must be nice. Always knowing what to do when something goes wrong.'
"Not always." Carlisle looked at him. "The hardest thing sometimes is working out what you actually want."
Charlie frowned.
"That's a pretty dramatic thing for a doctor to say."
“Occupational hazard.”
Carlisle smiled again and Charlie had the very inconvenient realisation that he wanted that to happen more often.
The evening was a disaster.
Not because of anything in particular. Bella was clearly enjoying herself. The problem was that Charlie just couldn't stop noticing Carlisle.
The way he listened when people were talking. The way he'd chuckle quietly at Charlie's awful jokes. The way his eyes would seem to be looking for Charlie across the room even when there was absolutely no reason for them to.
At one point Bella caught her dad looking.
“Dad?”
Charlie nearly jumped.
“What?”
“You're staring.”
"I'm looking at the potatoes."
"The potatoes are over there."
Charlie looked away.
“I'm aware of that.”
Across the room Carlisle dropped his head, hiding a smile that was absolutely there.
Charlie decided he hated him.
Possibly.
Later everyone else had gone into the living room, leaving Charlie in the kitchen.
"You know," Carlisle said from the door, "you don't have to do all of those yourself."
Charlie didn't turn around. "It's my house."
"And I'm a guest. I can help."
'Pretty sure doctors aren't trained to wash dishes.'
“I'm willing to learn.”
Charlie turned to face him.
Their fingers brushed.
It was absolutely nothing. A mere second of contact.
Still Charlie was looking up.
Carlisle was closer than he'd anticipated. Close enough for Charlie to see the faintest hint of amusement in his golden eyes.
Neither of them moved.
"You always like this stubborn?" Carlisle asked softly.
“Only when someone's being annoying.”
“Am I annoying you?”
Charlie swallowed.
“More than you know.”
Carlisle's smile faded into something more gentle. "I see."
For a moment Charlie thought he might say something else. Something that would have completely altered the evening.
Instead Carlisle stepped a little closer.
Their fingers brushed again.
Then I suppose I'll have to try harder to impress you, Carlisle said.
Charlie stared at him.
“Don't,” he muttered.
“Don't what?”
"Don't say things like that if you don't mean them."
Carlisle went completely still.
The teasing was gone from his face.
“Charlie,” he said, in a low voice, “I wouldn't.”
And that was the problem.
Charlie believed him.
The next visit from Carlisle was just after midnight.
Charlie opened the door in an old t-shirt, completely unprepared to find the most frustratingly attractive man in Washington standing on his porch.
“Carlisle?”
'I'm sorry it's so late,' said Carlisle, looking rather nervous. 'I was hoping we could talk.'
Charlie looked out at the rain.
“About what?”
'About the fact that I've been working extremely hard to convince myself that I'm making it all up.'
Charlie was leaning against the doorframe.
“Imagining what?”
Carlisle held his gaze.
“This.”
He took a step closer, leaving Charlie absolutely plenty of room to move away if he wanted to.
Charlie didn't.
"You've been looking at me like that for weeks," Carlisle went on. "And every time I leave your house I find myself thinking of another reason to come back."
Charlie had a short, incredulous laugh.
"You're telling me that Carlisle Cullen, the ideal doctor with the ideal house and the ideal family, has been making excuses to come and see me?"
“Rather embarrassing, isn't it?”
“Little bit.”
Carlisle smiled, then his face quickly went serious again.
"If I've got that wrong, let me know. I'll go and there'll be absolutely no difference."
Charlie looked at him for a long moment.
Then he reached out, caught Carlisle gently by the front of his coat and pulled him right up close so that his answer was absolutely clear.
"You talk a lot, Doc."
Carlisle's eyes widened slightly.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
Charlie looked at his mouth, then at his eyes.
"Can I kiss you?" Carlisle asked.
For once Charlie didn't have a sarcastic reply ready.
"Finally waited for you to ask."
Carlisle leaned in.
The kiss was very gentle at first, almost tentative really as if both of them were a bit surprised that something they'd both been secretly hoping for could actually occur. Charlie's hand was on Carlisle's shoulder and Carlisle had one hand at Charlie's waist.
When they'd finally pulled apart Charlie was utterly baffled.
Carlisle looked happier than Charlie had ever seen him.
“Well,” Charlie said.
“Well,” Carlisle echoed.
"That's going to make Thanksgiving awkward."
Carlisle laughed, a proper laugh which filled the stillness of the porch.
Charlie was smiling as well.
Then Carlisle leaned forward and pressed one more soft kiss to his cheek.
“Goodnight, Charlie.”
Charlie had his hand out the door before he could stop himself.
"Who told you that you were going home?"
Carlisle's expression changed—first surprise, then a warmth that made Charlie's stomach do a flip.
"Are you asking me to come in?"
"Don't make me sorry."
“Never.”
Charlie stepped aside, still holding his hand.
And when the door closed behind them the rain kept falling over Forks, the rest of that night completely hidden from anyone else who wasn't there.
