[Geek]

This is fanfiction. All is property of Stephenie Meyer.



Dr. Carlisle Cullen knew that his looks were distracting. He had hundreds of years of practice trying to get people overcome the perfection of his golden good looks, and really listen to him. Sadly, some never got past the eyes the color of butterscotch glistening in the sunshine and chiseled perfection to hear his words.

Working in New York City was a bit easier then some parts of the United States. The human population was so diverse, they almost seemed supernatural themselves.

A true New Yorker did not get easily flustered; their hardened, emotionless face was their facial screen saver. Carlisle often thought he could walk out, skin sparkling in the sunshine, and not get a second look from the busy inhabitants of Manhattan. There was very little they had not already seen.

He grabbed his charts from Nala, one of the most efficient nurses he had ever had the pleasure of dealing with. Since he had been practicing medicine since 1902, this was a considerable mental compliment.

His effort to walk with human mannerisms was second nature now. As was fidgeting, sitting and running his fingers threw his always-perfect hair.

He closed the door to his office with a gentle care, then locked it. He could not hear the minds of by anyone that passed by, like his vampire child, Edward. Nor could he see into the future, like the sweet Alice. Her adoption of the Cullens as a family had brought so much musical light to their world. Not to mention the added benefit of knowing ahead of time what every choice each vampire in the family made would result in.

With the door locked, Carlisle was free to let his vampire nature allow him to be the most prolific doctor in existence. Of course, he had to publish papers and findings under aliases, or convince other doctors or researchers, that his brilliant ideas were really their own. In his 339 years as a vampire, he has lost the need to gain human recognition for his efforts. There was no need to see his name in lights for he was already immortal.

In the privacy of his hospital office, with no prying eyes, Carlisle was able to begin his routine. Classical music on, one hand and an eye reading a vintage account of a mysterious disease from the 1800’s. The other hand and an eye writing notes and making comparisons to a case in Idaho that another doctor and requested his opinion on. The antiquated book was from his personal library at home. It had been passed to him by the author himself. As Carlisle etched his notes in a tablet, the handwriting was a picture perfect Ariel font, with important words bolded, as if fresh from the printer. If the two cases he was comparing were as similar as it seemed, Carlisle thought there might be a need to alert the CDC to a possible infectious outbreak of viral bacteria the human population had thought was long defeated. His beautiful, meticulous brain filtering out the different options and courses of treatment.

He felt like he was on the verge of a discovery when the Psychologist in the next office arrived to his place of work with a bang and a bump. The man was so incredibly loud. It was phenomenal. The bodily function noises alone were almost at a level that would require a full medical work up. Phlegm clearing, flatulence, neck creaking, and knuckle cracking all made themselves audible visitors in Carlisle’s office.

Hundreds of years of practicing patience, and this man next door was going to drive him insane. Super vampire hearing was almost always a benefit. Not with Dr. Henry Stoole. He could make Jesus Christ lose his temper. Maybe it was because he was a constant drinker. Carlisle could hear the metal flask unscrewing in the office next door with a cringing squeak. Maybe, it was because Henry was the worst psychologist in the world, often accusing his patients of lying and trying to medicate any concern they had. Between his hyper billing of insurances and the heavy kickbacks he got from brand name prescription drugs, there was precious little that could qualify as a redeeming quality for Henry.

He had been next door to Carlisle for weeks now. Usually, the Hospital director kept the office space next to Carlisle empty. An odd request that was well worth the benefit of having Dr. Cullen on board. Renovations in the hospital had necessitated the crowding.

Carlisle took the interruption as time to reflect on his family. He gazed at their pictures on his desk. The hiking photo had them all paired up. Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. Edward was standing in the back, smiling by himself. Carlisle liked the picture because of the light in Edward’s eyes. Emmett had dared Edward to take the picture without using the timer. Of course, Edward propped the camera in a tree, pressed the button, and was in the photo before the flash. Edward had the thrill of a bet won in his eyes, and it almost masked the haunted loneliness that hid in his golden eyes.

Despite the rustic photo, which was a prop for the humans, the Cullens were enjoying City life. Even though New York had its share of sunny days, the nightlife was so extensive, a group of people that preferred the night raised no suspicions. Edward could be piano player in a bar, Alice and Jasper could attend the Fashion Institute together (much to Jasper’s protests) and Rosalie worked at a local car repair shop. Emmett was refusing to find a job to blend in.

Esme was loving working in the antique shop in Soho. It was almost perfect. Almost, only if Henry would just get reassigned to a different office.

Carlisle had the necessary steps in motion to get Henry in a new line of work all together. Carlisle’s conscious would not allow him to be privy to the knowledge of all that went on next door without feeling somewhat responsible to the patient’s stories he could not help but overhear. In the time Henry had been there, unlucky souls were forced to lay on the awful couch Henry still used it more as tool to make him feel more superior then anything else. Many had recommendations for other Doctors in their hand before they left the sliding doors of the hospital exit.

There was a tentative knock on Henry’s door, his 3:00 appointment.

Carlisle settled in to overhear the conversation. He needed to be able to steer the patient in the correct direction when offering a referral.

“Come in!” Henry was twisting on the cap back onto his flask and shutting the third drawer down in his desk.

The doorknob turned. Henry straightened up in his chair. Carlsie could tell from his fidgeting that the patient was female, and most likely good looking.

“Well, hello young lady. Please come in and lie down on the couch.” Henry was had deliberately begun talking in a deeper voice.

Good job Henry, she’ll just fall all over herself for you now. Carlisle mentally shook his head, but physically, he was as still as a statue holding pen to paper.

The new patient was timid. She murmured her greeting, but Carlisle could tell from the sound of her footsteps that she had decided to sit on the couch. Score one for the new girl, she didn’t fall for Henry’s power play..

Carlisle could hear the whispered, “tisk” seeping from Henry’s incompetent lips. Henry liked the upper hand. The patient was sitting in his chair, forcing Henry to sit on the couch.

“Well, Miss Duncan, I have reviewed the file your previous Doctor has sent over to me, a Dr….”, Henry paused here to ruffle some papers to find his answer.

“Dr. Lavender.” Miss Duncan filled in for Henry.

“Says here you hear voices in your head, and you refuse any medication to quiet these voices.” Henry couldn’t wring the sarcasm out of his voice.

Carlisle continued writing while carefully listening to the goings on next door.

“Um. I think there might have been a mix up, I have a sort of special situation that requires me to meet with my Doctor about once a week.” Miss Duncan seemed ready to run, her words perched tentatively like a butterfly on a flower’s pedal.