#hauteur

"It was Minnie before."

"What?"

"When you introduced yourself, it was Minnie. Not Minerva." Carlisle explained as he released her hand, relief flooded through him when she smiled. It was something he'd thought about more than he needed to. He spent a lot of time replaying his time with her behind closed eyes, as near to a dream as he could get.

"I don't remember that at all." Minerva admitted with a slight laugh, "Are you lying to me?"

"No!" He placed a hand over his heart, "Scout's honour."

Her eyes rolled, "Cause you're such a Boy Scout." She said sarcastically, turning her gaze to the darkening tree line, "I really did, then?"

"Oh, yes." He assured following her eyes, "Alice told me it was Minerva when I got home."

Minerva kissed her teeth, "Can't trust you Cullens with anything." His eyes shot down to her face to find her already smiling, a sight which made the sudden jolt of anxiety dissipate instantly. She nudged his shoulder lightly, "too easy."

"Shut up." He chuckled shaking his head, "Was it an impulse thing, Minnie?"

It always is with you. Looking up at him, shoulder to shoulder, was entirely too close. Nearly debilitating. She'd forgotten just how transfixing his weird fucking eyes were; a deep ochre, like he'd trapped the sun in his iris. Her own eyes darted back to the sky as she took a shaky drag off her cigarette.

"I don't even know." She admitted honestly, letting out a puff of smoke, "Maybe I felt like reinventing that day. Minnie does sound a bit softer, takes the edge off." She could feel him observing the side of her face. An unwelcome need was blossoming in her chest, something that had taunted her for the last few months. A need to be known. Carlisle had a way of stirring that up. Her lips pressed a little tighter together, as if it would be something physical to spill more than she should.

"Would you rather be Minnie?"

Whether he realized it or not, it was a fucking loaded question. Her mouth twitched ever so slightly toward a smile. Would you rather be soft? That's the question she was hearing. Is that who you want to be? The answer to that, unwaveringly, was yes but the fact of the matter was that she wasn't soft. Minerva wasn't sure she could be, even if she tried. All this aside, she answered the question, neglecting her internal nuance. "No." She replied decidedly, "Can't imagine getting cussed out by someone named Minnie."

"Me neither." He resolved with a chuckle, "Minerva it is, then." Another thing she'd forgotten. Good lord, why'd he have to say it like that? All the bite, all the hardness she felt her name occupied was absent when he said it. There was the softness.

"Minerva, it is." She agreed, pressing what little life was left in her cigarette out against the holy brick and flicking it off to the grass. "I need a drink."

Carlisle followed on her heels, breath still held like a vice in his useless lungs. He wondered what she might say, if she knew how her blood sang to him? She certainly wouldn't turn to look at him the way she did, just to make sure he was still there with her tinted lips turning up in a light smile. Literally and figuratively, Minerva took his breath away.

It astounded him that she didn't have the faintest clue the effect she had. Beyond the temptation of her divine ichor, the simple temptation of her. Though he hadn't been able to form the words to tell her, she looked astounding; the kind of beautiful that invoked the instinct to drop to his knees and pray.

She'd been right before when she teasingly remarked that the least of God's concerns was his cursing. In fact, there were quite a few things on the docket ahead of cussing. One in particular, that Carlisle was certain was highlighted, underlined and tabbed on the list was his complete and utter infatuation with a witch. Probably directly underneath his own status as a bloodsucking, creature of the night.

If he was going to hell anyway, he couldn't think of anything more worth hellfire than loving Minerva. As long as there was something more tangible than a late night, accidental split-second kiss he could look back on, he'd be more than happy to burn.

Minerva's heels clicked slightly on the polished floor as they made their way toward the staircase. A couple of voices echoed up the well and Minerva put her arm out, stopping dead. His brows furrowed, he hadn't been listening. There were too many other sounds going on for him to find any one of them worth tuning in to.

Minerva's localized and perfectly average hearing, however, had picked up on something. "I thought that bastard wasn't coming! You told me he wasn't!" Her eyes turned to him, an eyebrow quirking upward.

"I didn't think Dana was being serious when she said she was going to invite him." It was the groom, Carlisle recognized that voice. "He's really not that bad."

It was met with a scoff. "Yeah, well.. if Dana was walking in on his arm, you'd be pretty pissed off." The voice matched a face, very suddenly. Last he'd seen it, it was dripping with craft beer after Minerva had subtly broken his chair.

"Dana's my wife." Benny replied meaningfully, "You don't get to lay some moronic claim on a woman you hardly know and then make it her problem. Buck up, apologize to her and stop being such a freak about the doctor."

Minerva's lips were set in a line, not quite a scowl but certainly not impressed. Her eyes flickered up to his and she mouthed simply: "I love Benny."

It wasn't until the double doors at the bottom of the stairs clicked shut that Minerva let out a breath. "Dumb fuck." She muttered, finally moving forward. "I owe you twenty bucks."

"It does sound like it." Carlisle agreed, tucking his hands behind his back as they took the stairs. "What's he going to apologize for?"

"He was a real dick last time I was at the lodge." Minerva said simply, holding the railing as they descended. "It's not important." He was fortunate to know Minerva well enough to gauge that whatever had happened bothered her. For that reason, he thought it to be important.

Carlisle hadn't cared for Gus to begin with, though he hadn't wasted too much thought on the man. All he knew about the man was that Gus had a massive crush on Minerva and an equally massive loathing for Carlisle. It made sense. Evidently, everyone in the town of Forks could see what Minerva tactfully turned her eyes away from. Even still, it didn't bother him. Gus didn't stand a snowball's chance in winning Minerva over, her opinion on mortal romance was quite clear.

Disrespect, however, Carlisle had an issue with. Not towards himself, not in the slightest but Minerva was another matter. "He doesn't know who he's trifling with." Carlisle remarked making Minerva's lips quirk up in that resistant little smile.

"They never do." She replied simply, pulling the door open before he could reach for it.

It was a decisive B-line toward the bar the moment she stepped through the door. Music blasted through the venue, a DJ in the corner was bopping his head to the tune of some Pearl Jam song she couldn't remember the name of.

"What'll it be?" The bartender yelled over the music as they approached. It was a bit cruel to set the speakers up right next to the bar.

"Rum n' coke!" Minerva hollered back, "Double, please!"

"I figured!"

The witch just beamed in response as the bartender went about mixing her drink, he slid it deftly across the counter. "Much obliged!" She shouted back before nodding toward a far corner. Minerva never had a dog, which was an affront to her God, but she'd always preferred cats. Regardless, she could imagine what it felt like. Carlisle, it seemed, was going to be fixed to her heels all evening like a dog waiting for his next command.

It made her reconsider her stance. Perhaps a Border Collie or some kind of shepherd, maybe a bullmastiff.

"What kind of dog do you think you'd be?" She asked, once they were far enough away from the music.

"What?" He waved a hand when she started to repeat herself, beginning to laugh. "I heard you! Where is that question coming from?"

Minerva shrugged innocently. She wasn't about to tell him why she was thinking about it. "Answer the question!"

"Maybe a border collie." He admitted after a moment of thought." Son of a bitch."Or a Saint Bernard. They're the guiding type."

Minerva frowned ironically, nodding in approval. "I was thinking a shih tzu for you but that's way more accurate."

He rolled his eyes, smile unmoved. "What would you be?"

"I'm a cat person." She responded over the music, taking a deep sip of her drink— really more of a gulp. "Maybe a Doberman."

"Something that looks mean but is really, very friendly." Carlisle noted earning a disgruntled look that made his smile grow.

"I'll kill you!" She said, voice still elevated.

"You know you don't have to yell for me right?" He asked, leaning in a little so he wouldn't have to say it quite so loud. "My hearing is above average."

"Maybe I just like yelling at you." Minerva replied in a more natural tone, though she could hardly hear herself speak over the music.

"That's fine too!" It made her chuckle that he still had to yell to be heard. There was something so deeply embarrassing in yelling over music, he could suffer a bit.

Carlisle had seen Minerva drink and he had seen Minerva drunk. Even still, it felt like watching an Olympian in action. The casual trips back to the bar, where it seemed the bartender had just been making the drink in advance and sliding it forward at the sight of her approach. How much she was ingesting versus how collected she was made him ask several, private questions about her tolerance. That he knew of she'd had three flutes of champagne and four doubles. The average person would be fast tracking being face down in a ditch by that point but Minerva was far from a normal person and, as a result, simply at ease.

"Oh, Bella looks like she's having fun." Minerva's voice was so quiet that Carlisle couldn't tell if it was an observation he was meant to hear. Bella looked miserable, leaning against a far wall next to her father who was engrossed in a loud conversation. Carlisle could guess the beer in his hand wasn't his first.

He followed on her heels as Minerva weaves through the people to get over to the girl, who didn't pay them any notice until Minerva was bumping her shoulder with her own. "Having a ball or what?"

Bella just gave her a look before her eyes travelled to the witch's accomplice, at which point they lit up. "It's fine." It was far from subtle, the way Bella's dark eyes flickered back and forth between them, her eyebrows raised. "A-Are you having fun?"

"Absolute riot." Minerva responded sipping at her drink before leaning close to the girl. She was about to say more when she perked up. "Oh, Bella.." she held her drink out to the vampire with a smile, "Do you know the best part of weddings?" The girl just looked confused.

"You said it's the open bar." Her confusion was evident, brown pulling together.

"Okay, the second best thing." Minerva grinned, a smile that took over her entire face as she took the girls hands, "The dancing."

"No!" Bella pleaded, digging her heels into the floor. All it did was result in a severely ungraceful drag. "I'm begging you— Carlisle, help me!"

He put his hands up in surrender, a pleased smile on his lips. "My hands are full." He gestured to the glass in his hand before giving an encouraging thumbs up.

"Bella— when David Bowie tells you to dance, you fucking dance!" Minerva beamed, grabbing her hands and forcing the girl in an ungrateful twirl.

"I can't dance!"

"Nobody can dance! Nothing is real!" Minerva shouted over the music, "We're all reacting to the way vibrations move through the air and strike our ear drums, let loose!" It came out as a sort of plea, "Looking silly is the point!"

Bella still looked like she wanted to run, though unwillingly swaying to the music. Carlisle was chuckling to himself against the wall, absentmindedly swirling her drink in its glass though his eyes never strayed from her.

Anytime the embarrassment looked like it might grow too much for the girl, Minerva whipped out something more embarrassing to make her laugh. The sprinkler, the hand jive, the Charleston and the drowning man, somehow all made an appearance over the course of two minutes. It was the most Carlisle had seen Minerva smile in, well, ever. There was something unabashed about it, unburdened. Surely the alcohol played a part but he couldn't help the smile growing on his own face. He'd never listened to David Bowie before, at least not this song, but Minerva's mouth moved with every word.

"That wasn't so bad!" Minerva yelled after the retreating girl, following on her heels.As soon as the song had ended, Bella had taken her opening to flee.

"That's your one!" Bella huffed, though a small smile was tugging at her lips, "Don't make me do that again!" Minerva put her hands up in surrender, turning to Carlisle with a satisfied grin.

"You really cut a rug." Carlisle complimented, handing her back her drink with an amused smile.

She absentmindedly leaned closer, unnecessarily yelling over the music. The proximity made him distinctly aware of his held breath, "Lotta practice!" She took a drink before adding, "and a metric-fuck ton of false confidence!"

In the corner of his eye, he saw Dana point from the other side of the room before she said something to the woman next to her and the pair came charging over. "You're being ambushed." He said in her ear.

When he leaned back, her brows were knit together but as she was opening her mouth to ask what he was talking about, Dana had reached them.

"Min—" Dana grabbed her hands, breathless from running across the venue. "Oh, where have you been all my life?"

Minerva's eyebrows rose, a grin spreading across her face. "Working on my buzz!" She said over the music, lifting her drink. "Congratulations!"

"Nobody will do shots with us!"

Carlisle, himself, had never done a shot but he knew quite well that shots were the fastest and most effective way to end up face down somewhere. Minerva's eyes lit up, as if she'd just gotten incredible news.

"Fucking spoil sports!" Minerva hollered back, letting Dana drag her along to the bar. Minerva made no attempt to dig her heels in as Bella had when she'd been dragged. It was a wonder the woman didn't float. Even still, she turned her head back to wave a dramatic farewell to the pair.

"How's that going?" Bella asked, nudging him with her elbow. There was something knowing in her eyes that he didn't particularly like. He knew Edward had kept his mouth shut on the complicated logistics of Minerva and Carlisle's dynamic but perhaps he wasn't as good at being cryptic as the former was.

"Very well!" He responded, leaning back against the wall as he watched her appear through the crowd by the bar. There was something in how human she was, in spite of what she was, that fascinated him. He would have been content just to be in the same room as her, "There may be hope for me yet." He could feel Bella's eyes on him making him tear his eyes away from the witch across the room. "I'm rather surprised actually. I didn't expect much warmth."

Bella smiled softly, "Well, she's missed you." The girl said like it was obvious, "Probably more than she'd like to admit."

Carlisle's lips pressed together, he looked away from the younger girl, trying his best not to seek out Minerva, though his eyes automatically found her, tipping back a shot of something. As her head tilted, her hair fell over her shoulder in dark waves. "Yes, well.." he cleared his throat slightly, "I suppose that feeling is mutual."

Whiskey burnt the whole way down her throat as Minerva tipped back a second shot. She knew she was treading dangerously because it didn't taste like anything, just the familiar searing as it descended.

Dana leaned into her side, her eyes scanning over the wedding party with a content smile. "How are things going with Carlisle?"

Minerva rolled her eyes, "Fantastic, we're not talking about it." She smiled.

"Wait— Like you and him aren't talking about it or we're not talking about it?" Dana asked, leaning back a little.

The witch just grinned, "Exactly!"

For the better part of the twentieth century, Minerva lived in nightclubs. Her party girl persona had largely died out with studio 54 in 1980 but her sixth sense for the nearest dance floor had never died out. In fact, Minerva couldn't remember the last time she'd really danced. Of course, a wedding in the small town of Forks was no studio 54 but it suited her new sensibilities just fine.

Minerva couldn't hear music without dancing at least a little bit, so she was all to willing to be dragged to the dance floor. After all, Dana and Benny had fantastic taste in music. Though there was little they could have put on that Minerva would take issue with. She loved music. The logistics, the lyricism, the history, all of it. When they came out with the gramophone Minerva's head nearly exploded.

Music had come along way since the folk classics she grew up with. When she was a kid, half the things people sang about didn't exist. They did now though and Minerva loved this shit. Angel's weren't centrefolds back in her day but they sure as hell were now.

Dancing, singing to music loud enough to drown out her thoughts, it healed something in her. For a few minutes, she was just a normal girl having fun at her friend's wedding the way normal girls were supposed to. Minerva had a decent enough sense of rhythm that even if her dancing was bad, it was easy to overlook. Either way, it sure as hell beat the guys with dancing their hands in their pockets.

A guided twirl nearly put Dana on her ass leading the small huddle of women to cackle as they caught the bride before she hit the ground. "That's a sign you need water!" Minerva shouted over the music.

"Tonic water!" The brunette shouted back, "With gin!" Minerva's head tilted back in a laugh, she really couldn't say much to that without sounding like a hypocrite. When the song ended, Minerva shuffled to the outskirts of the sea of bodies. The bartender eyed her as she walked up, his hand slowly reaching to draw a prepared rum and coke forward.

"Actually, I just get a cola, please?" Minerva said with an apologetic smile.

His eyebrows shot up, "Oh, you do now how to pace yourself." He teased with a grin, leaning across the bar.

"Only on special occasions." The woman beamed as he filled the glass. "Thank you!"

"Hey, what's your name?" He said as she started to turn away. Minerva's lips tugged down in an ironic frown.

"Minerva." She called over the music.

"I'm Jack."

"Like the whiskey!" She rose her drink to him in an ironic cheers, "See you around!" Her senses told her he wanted her to stick around but Minerva didn't have any interest in that. Maybe a couple years ago she'd have given the poor lad the run around for something to do but now, she couldn't imagine entertaining it. Drunk or sober, like it or not, Minerva only had eyes for one person. To be quite clear, she didn't like it but there was no one who could contend. Carlisle was in a league of his own: The bastard major league but the major league, all the same.

Minerva sipped the cola, leaning against the wall to take some pressure off her feet. If the heels weren't starting to get to her, she would have finished the trek over to him. Catching his eye across the room was enough of an invitation for Carlisle though.

It felt a little odd. She could say jump and he'd ask how high? Just a look and he was coming her way. It wasn't like he was engaged across the room. Besides Bella and maybe Charlie, nobody else was going to talk to him. It made her feel awful.

Carlisle, however, was over the moon to meet her eye. In truth, it was the smile that beckoned him over. He took post next to her against the wall, as casually as possible. "Surviving?" She asked, tilting her head up to him.

"Quite." He agreed, his lips turning up in a smile. Carlisle was big on eye contact, he didn't have to put much thought into it. Unless she was being shifty, her eyes were usually locked on to his. This wasn't shifty. Far from. Her eyes, which looked far darker thanks to the dark lining along the lid, flickered for the briefest moment down to his mouth. It was long enough that he couldn't deny what was going through her mind. It was clear as day. He didn't need Edward's ability to know what she was thinking. Instead of looking back to his eyes, she just looked away all together.

"Bella said it's odd to see you dancing in the appropriate setting." He commented, finding himself after a moment of prayer. Carlisle could pretend all day that they hadn't fought, that everything was normal. He wasn't sure how much pretending he could do on that front. Not after this long.

Minerva was a world class pretender, he could follow her lead all day long. It was always the alcohol that made the act slip, without fail. When she'd kissed him that late night, it had been due to a few heavy handed drinks. Now, just a dip of the eyes and he was putty. He wanted her to feel safe enough that her guard could just slip. He wanted a kiss of perfect clarity, he didn't want to hear her apologize, he didn't want either of them to blame the alcohol; something as easy as breathing, which was ironic given breathing was quite difficult.

"I love dancing." She responded with a closed eye smile, "I know em all."

"Every dance?"

Minerva nodded enthusiastically, "Every one."

"I've seen the Charleston and the hand jive." Carlisle said with a laugh, "Waltz?"

"Obviously."

"Tango?"

"Yup."

"Swing?"

"Carlisle, I've spent half my life at a party. I promise you can't name one I haven't learned." Minerva said earnestly.

"The gavotte?"

Her smile tightened as she shook her head, "You son of a bitch."

"I knew I'd have you there." He nudged her shoulder, "I've got one over on you."

"I'm going to go home tonight, learn the gavotte, sober up, drive to your house and kick your ass." She put her finger up with every item on her to to do list before thoughtfully holding her chin between her thumb and index finger on the last item.

His head tilted back with a laugh, "Oh, I'll hold you to that." Carlisle assured.

"Can you hold this?" Minerva requested, holding out her glass. By the colour, he could either guess it was just soda or very mild on the alcohol. He didn't dare breathe in to assess for himself. She started to crouch before she stopped, assessing the slit in her dress with slight animosity before she lifted her knee to reach the buckle of her heel.

Carlisle's jaw tightened as she mindlessly leaned into him to keep from toppling over. A chorus of muttered curses slipped through her lips as she struggled with the clasp, the leg she was standing on wavering. "Okay." He chuckled weakly, almost unsure of himself to speak, "You hold this."

Her hand accepted the drink with a comment of, "you kept it cold" as she steadied herself on two feet. She grappled with her words for a moment as he kneeled down to undo the buckle with far more dexterity than she possessed. "We'll be the talk of the town, Cullen." She warned softly as she put her other foot forward.

He glanced up at her, a mischievous smirk on his pale, pink lips. "Aren't we always?" Carlisle undid the second buckle blindly, raising up from the floor as she stepped out of her shoes. The proximity was close, her eyes raising with him.

It would be so simple just to lean down and steal a kiss. Her lips were lifted in a challenging smile; a dark rouge, the colour of fresh blood. By god, he'd never craved something more. It wouldn't happen like this, not here. He could dream, though, and dream he would.

Minerva didn't shy away, swirling the drink in her glass absentmindedly. "And what are they saying?" Her head tilted the slightest bit, his eyes flickered down to the curve of her neck as her hair slid over her shoulder.

"Well, Gus just called me a motherfucker." Carlisle commented thoughtfully, earning a slight laugh. "Besides him, lots of gossip about what they think is going on, comments on my luck." Her eyebrows lifted a bit and he couldn't help the soft chuckle, speaking out of the corner of his mouth as he moved back to her side, "I'm walking around with the most beautiful woman in the room. I do think that constitutes lucky."

She grappled for a moment, stumbling over her words before she managed to get three strung together, "Oh, shut up." Dismissive as he was, he couldn't miss the flush that rose to her face under the careful layer of makeup. It burned too bright to be subdued. After a moment, she went on with a wry chuckle: "You really are desperate to be back in my good graces."

With his hands tucked in his pockets he shrugged, "I can be honest and desperate." He flashed an innocent smile that only earned an exasperated one in return.