Author's Note: I can't even tell you how many of these "Survival Kits" I've put together over the last four years for the weddings I've been involved with. I got the idea for making them from a friend who's a registered nurse and they've been a hit ever since. As usual, a big thanks to Blondie AKA Robin and Warui-Usagi for looking over this. I'd also like to thank Angeliss and Leechlover, who also volunteered to help me with editing. You ladies are amazing!

Usual disclaimers apply.

Chapter 6: The Honeymoon Survival Kit

"Wow…I have no words. Just…wow," Alice breathed, her goldenrod eyes gleaming with pride.

"You do look amazing," Jessica gushed, nodding vigorously, her curls bouncing wildly.

"Absolutely incredible," Angela agreed, in an awed voice.

"It'll do," Rosalie said approvingly, tilting her head to one side. "It will do nicely."

"But eet eez Ezabella's opeenyonz dat are emportant!" Paul-Henri said. He leaned over my shoulder and spun my chair around so that I faced the full-length mirror that covered one of the suite's walls. My little-black-dress-clad posse was gathered around me, oohing and aahing like it was the fourth of July. I, on the other hand, frowned at my appearance, unsure of what to think.

My hair had been shaped into a colossal cascade of corkscrew curls. Henri had teased up some of the under-layers to add volume, and then used a one-inch curling iron to shape it into dozens of loose, glossy ringlets, some of which were pinned back artfully, while the rest tumbled down my back and over my shoulders. Nestled into the shiny mass of curls was a glittering diamond tiara, capturing a sheer one-tier veil. An intricate diamond necklace adorned my throat, while matching bracelets and anklets adorned my wrists and ankles. Aside from my engagement ring, I almost never wore jewelry in normal life, and I was constantly aware of the metal on my skin.

I was wearing more makeup than I'd ever worn in my life, and the colors were darker than what I was used to. I had to admit that the eyeliner was artfully applied; I'd never figured out how to put the stuff on without stabbing myself in the eye. The three different shades of silver that accented my large brown eyes drew attention to them. My eyelashes were curled, and the special no-clump-waterproof mascara made them look three times longer than usual. My eyebrows were tweezed (which hadn't been a fun process), forming two thin, straight lines above my eyes. The French Four had applied a deep shade of magenta lipstick that they'd allowed to dry, followed by a glossy topcoat. They assured me that the lipstick wouldn't kiss or wear off for at least fourteen hours. Not that Edward's going to be around to kiss it off, so it doesn't really matter, I thought bitterly.

My fingernails (which were previously jagged and bitten at) were now smooth, long (but not unreasonably so), and exactly matched the lipstick. The shiny topcoat of my fresh pedicure gleamed from within my strappy, four-inch, spike-heeled pair of dark, hot-pink shoes. I had to admit that the shoes did change the appearance of my body. My calves, which were forced to contract, looked very shapely. The angle they put my legs at forced me to stick my butt and chest out a little to compensate, adding the illusion of curves to my too-thin body. As good as the shoes looked; I worried about how I was going to be able to walk in them. The skin on my arms, chest, and back had been rubbed with some exotic smelling balm that not only moisturized my skin, giving it a supple appearance, but also added a subtle glitter, barely noticeable.

But it was the dress that really altered my appearance.

It was the exact shade of dark, bold pink that the lipstick and nail polish were. The stretchy material was covered in swirling patterns of sequins that made the dress sparkle like a disco ball. Its hemline was asymmetrical, reaching nearly to my knee on the right side, but slanting rapidly up to expose two-thirds of my left thigh. A slit in the short side of the dress exposed another three inches. The bust line had some kind of a padded, under-wire push-up bra built right into it, which pressed my small breasts up and together, showing cleavage I never knew I had. The neckline was a curved V, like the bottom half of a heart. A halter-top enabled the dress to leave my entire back completely bare. Though the entire thing was as tight as a wetsuit, hugging my body like a second skin, it did not ride or bunch up when I moved, but fit as nicely as if it'd been tailored specifically for me—which, knowing Alice, it probably had.

"Wat do eau tink?" Paul-Henri whispered in my ear, placing on hand on my bare shoulder, and trailing his fingers down my arm.

"I look…like…like…" I faltered, struggling with how to best react to the seductive image before me.

"Yez…?" Paul-Henri said, his hands tousling my hair, giving it a bit more volume. He pressed his nose to my hair; taking in the scent of whatever product he'd used in it and smiled approvingly.

"I look like a ho," I said uncomfortably at last, after struggling to come up with the right adjective. I bit my lip and gave him an apologetic look, while the rest of the girls gasped indignantly. Paul-Henri threw his hands up in the air while the rest of his team groaned.

"No! How dare you say such blasphemy!" Alice cried in disbelief, squeezing my shoulders. "You look hot."

"Forty meenutz et took uz to transform diz mouzy leettle triffle eento a god-dess, and diz ez de tanks ve get?" Paul-Henri said with a sigh. He kissed my cheek and squeezed my shoulders. "Eau are zo zexie, mon cherie," he said. I squirmed, uncomfortable under his touch.

"Don't worry about him," Jacques, the black-haired, bespectacled nail technician told me, in perfect, unaccented (though high-timbered) English, as he finished pressing a jeweled pattern into each big toenail. "He's not trying to get fresh with you." Paul-Henri peeked his head around my shoulder.

"I'm gay!" he sang proudly, tossing my hair one last time, adding a final spritz of hairspray.

"I…erm…kinda already figured that out," I said lamely, giving the nail tech a weak smile. Arnaud and Bernard, other two members of the makeover mafia laughed out loud.

"You are quite stunning," Esme assured me. "Just look at yourself!" I dared another glance. There was no denying that the woman in the mirror was magazine-cover pretty, but I didn't know where me was underneath all the layers of nail polish and hair product.

"Say cheese!" Lauren said, snapping a picture just as I was turning from the mirror. She played back the image and grinned, bringing the camera over to show me. The photo only confirmed my worst suspicions.

"Yep. I definitely look like a whore," I sighed. What would Charlie say if he saw the way I was dressed right now? I wondered if a heart attack or a stroke would be more likely. The rest of the girls rolled their eyes, dragging me back to the couch as Alice paid the Fabulous French Four and ushered them out, thanking them profusely. I tried to walk in the heels, and was surprised that, though they were far from comfortable, my feet did not slide around inside of them…nor did my ankles twist. In fact, some kind of gel cushioning had been added to the inside surface, protecting my feet from blisters. I wondered if Alice had bought me a pair of shoes designed for professional ballroom dancers. I transferred my wallet to the tiny black purse that Alice had insisted that I carry instead of my battered khaki one, and slipped it over my shoulder. "All right girls," I sighed in resignation. "Let's go get this bar-hopping over with. I mean…if I'm not ready now, when will I be? Let's go." As bad as the prospect of clubbing sounded, I was eager to get out of the penis-themed hotel room.

"No so fast, Missy," Rosalie said sternly, sitting me back down in one of the squashy armchairs.

"There's one more gift that you have to open before we head out to the bars," Alice said.

"There is?" I said in a voice that clearly asked do I have to?

"There is!" Jessica insisted, running into the next room and returning a moment later, dragging a huge gift bag behind her. It rattled and clanked as she pulled it into the room and heaved it onto the coffee table.

"Why did this one have to wait?" I asked. Angela and Esme ducked their heads, while the other four laughed merrily.

"This gift is more…practical…than the other ones," Esme admitted. "It's a 'Honeymoon Survival Kit," so to speak." My heart thudded.

"Edward didn't tell you about his worries that I wouldn't be able to 'handle' having sex with him…did he?" I blurted out in a horrified voice. Jessica and Lauren immediately burst out into laughter while Rosalie gave me a haughty look, and I realized the implications of what I'd just said. Esme just shook her head.

"This was actually Carlisle's idea." My jaw dropped. She looked uneasy, but continued. "He was concerned when he saw on your medical record that you'd never been to a gynecologist, so he wanted to make sure that you were…er…well…medically prepared for all of the complications that could come up during…during…" her voice trailed off, embarrassed.

"During your transition into marital bliss," Rosalie finished, smiling broadly, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort.

"Excuse me?" I said, my voice ending in a shrill squeak. I couldn't believe that Esme and Carlisle…not to mention the other Cullens…had been discussing my lack of sexual experience behind my back. My medical records! Aren't they breaking some sort of patient-privacy laws here? I wondered.

"There are definitely some…well…supplies that we wanted to make sure that you had handy, you know…in case anything went wrong on the honeymoon," Alice added. My heart pounded. Nothing is going to go wrong on the honeymoon, I insisted to myself. Edward is not going to accidentally kill me, or turn me into a vampire or break my spine during sex. They can worry all they want, but I know him, and I know that we'll make this work.

"We all contributed to this," Jessica said brightly.

"Some of us more than others," Rosalie said dryly.

"A lot of thought and discussion went into compiling this, but we think we have everything in here that you would need to take care of your more…well…human needs," Alice finished. The implication was clear, though it would, of course go over Angela, Jessica, and Lauren's heads. If I were a vampire, many of these things would probably be unnecessary.

"Thank you," I said though gritted teeth. This was bad.

"We'll pull out the items one at a time, and explain the importance of each of them," Alice said importantly.

"There's a lot of stuff in there that is seriously useful," Esme said, in a slightly embarrassed voice. "I didn't have some of these things back when I got married the first time." I suddenly had a vision of Esme as a young, terrified human, going into an arranged marriage back in a different era, and understood her desire to help me, as awkward as it was.

"First time?" Angela asked curiously. Esme shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"I was married briefly to someone else before Carlisle. Long story. That relationship ended very badly," she said quickly. Angela was sensitive enough to pick up on the cue that now was hardly the time or place to explore that history.

"Trust me, you want this stuff," Rosalie said. "For human sex, they're all very practical items." I couldn't question further…not in front of my friends.

"Alright, you've got me curious enough now," I admitted. "Go ahead. Show me what you got."

Beaming happily, Alice stood and plunged her hand into the giant bag. "The first item is…sunscreen!" she said, whipping out a bottle of Banana Boat SPF 45. I squinted at it.

"Erm…thanks," I said frowning. "But...why?"

"Because sunburned sex is not fun sex!" she said, matter-of-factly. I snorted. Like you'd know, Miss I-don't-remember-my-human-life, I thought sarcastically. Rosalie reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of green, goopy, aloe vera gel.

"Lidocaine-infused aloe," she explained. "Because even sunburned sex is better than no sex at all." The girls were laughing mirthfully at that one. A rush of understanding swept through me as the Swiss Alps scenario disappeared completely.

"I knew it! We are going somewhere warm!" I exclaimed happily. Visions of swaying palm trees and white sandy beaches came to mind. The vamps exchanged looks.

"Actually, not necessarily," Rosalie said defensively. "You can sunburn very easily while skiing."

"Only on my face," I objected. "The parts that really matter would be covered up by ski gear. Tropical paradise, here I come!" Alice shook her head.

"Don't get so sure of yourself. There are some places in the world where you can go skiing and to the beach all in the same day. This tells you nothing!"

"I still think I'm going somewhere sunny," I insisted, gloating.

"As much as I'd love you to guess the secret location, we must move along if we're going to stay on schedule," Alice said. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Esme reached in the bag. She pulled out a bottle of Excedrin.

"This is so that no one can use the excuse 'I have a headache,'" she laughed. I smirked. I knew that Edward complained of headaches from time to time, which was related in some way or another to his ability to read minds; but I doubted that human medicine would have any effect on them. No headache could stop me from wanting him, though, I thought firmly.

"Condoms, in case you mess up your birth-control," Lauren said, pulling out a packet of Trojans. I suppressed a laugh of derision. Like I need birth-control, what, with Edward being sterile for the last century, I thought, scoffing mentally.

"A pregnancy test, in case you really mess up your birth-control!" Jessica howled, waving an E.P.T. around over her head. The rest of the ladies joined her raucous laughter and I rolled my eyes. One more item that is definitely on my list of things to leave behind. Trading the possibility of children for eternity with Edward? I can deal with that.

"Candles, to help set the mood," Angela said, pulling out several fragrant candles, which were all in little glass jars. She set them on the coffee table. I picked one up and sniffed it. It smelled good…floral. I turned the jar over to find out what scent it was and actually laughed out loud. Freesia. Of course.

"Passion fruit scented body-butter…to really set the mood!" Esme said. She winked. "You can use this with the erotic massage coupon."

"Good suggestion," I admitted. Then I stopped to think about it. Edward has such cold hands. I'm not sure that a massage from him would really be all that pleasurable. Not unless we were somewhere that was swelteringly hot. The more I thought about the bikinis and sunscreen, the more likely it seemed that I'd end up somewhere near the equator. The idea pleased me. As much as I loved Forks, the idea of seeing Edward's iridescent skin shimmering in the sun it was appealing to no end. Sparkle penis, I thought, giggling. Wow.

Rosalie then reached in. "A gallon of pure, undiluted, cranberry juice," she said, heaving the jug out and plopping it down in front of me. "In case you get a bladder infection. I hear those are the pits…" Lauren nodded vigorously, as if she had quite a bit of experience with them.

Esme pulled out the next item, a brownish-orange cylindrical bottle with a white cap. "I also had Carlisle write you a prescription for a week's worth of Bactrim," she said shaking the bottle of pills. "It will clear up any bladder infection in less than two days."

"Where can I get that stuff?" Lauren asked quickly. "I get bladder infections all the time!"

"Usually, you have to have a urinalysis that shows that you have an infection," Esme explained. "However, sometimes, physicians will prescribe them to newlyweds so that they don't have to interrupt their honeymoons to spend half a day in a ready-care clinic, since they're so common."

"Bladder infection?" I asked, confused.

Rosalie gave me a patronizing look. "The opening to your urethra is very close to the opening of your vagina, in case you didn't pay very good attention in Anatomy and Physiology. If you don't adequately clean the area up after sex, you'll be prone to infections. You'll feel like you have to pee every two seconds, and the urine will burn as it comes out. You totally won't feel like having sex. At the doctor's office, they actually call it 'honeymoon cystitis.'" I wondered what Rosalie's specialty had been when she'd gone to medical school. She'd be the scariest OB/Gyn in the world.

"You will get one if you're not careful," Alice said authoritatively. "Make sure to pee after sex. That helps to prevent them as well." I inwardly wondered if she'd "seen" me suffering from one. Of all the things to have visions about…I thought wryly. As if to follow up on the previous train of thought, Alice tossed me the next two items at once. "Monostat One and a prescription bottle of Diflucan, in case you get a yeast infection," she said, as I eyed each package. "Just follow the directions on the package if you smell anything fishy." Laughter erupted from the group at the word "fishy," as if they all were in on some joke that I didn't get. I guess that yeast infections will be yet one more thing on my list of things to "Google," I thought.

Lauren reached in and tossed me a cardboard box. "Thin maxi pads, to catch the stuff that drips out of you afterward," she said. She gave me a serious look. "Douching is a bad idea. My gynecologist said that it can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease." Crap. I don't know what "douching" is either, I thought miserably. Why, oh why didn't Renee ever talk to me about this stuff? I giggled hysterically at the thought of asking Charlie. Can you say awkward?

"Tampons, in case you get your period," Alice said, holding up a blue Tampax box. I nodded once, gratefully. My period was as regular as clockwork, and depending on how long our honeymoon was, I would probably need them. Suddenly, a terrible question popped into my head. Does Edward have a harder time being around me when I'm on my period? I wondered. I mean…sure I use tampons, so it's not like the blood is just hanging out in a pad, but he still has to be able to smell it. I was revolted. The idea that Edward would get thirsty after smelling my used tampons made me want to gag. I'd never asked him about it…the question was so embarrassing. He'd never brought it up, but, then again, he was a gentleman. I then realized that, once I was turned into a vampire, I'd never have to worry about being on the rag again. It was a comforting thought. Enough about periods, I thought to myself. I'm officially grossed out; on to the rest of the gifts.

I turned my attention to Jessica, who was rooting through the bag. She pulled out a purple and white tube. "Vagisil, to help take care of that burning, feminine itch," she said.

"What burning, feminine itch?" I asked stupidly. The rest of the women in the room (except for Angela) exchanged glances.

"Trust me…when you feel it, you'll know," Lauren said, arching one perfectly tweezed eyebrow, reasserting her haughtiness. I found myself glad that after tonight, I'd never have to see her again. She wasn't even on the guest list for the wedding. I don't know which I'll miss more, I thought acidly. Periods or her; it's a pretty close tie.

"Pamprin and Midol, in case you get PMS," Angela said, setting the next two bottles on the table.

"KY and Astroglide, to keep you slipping and sliding," Lauren said, setting her bottles next to Angela's. She thrust her hips, making humping motions, which everyone ignored and she self-consciously stopped. I shook my head, almost embarrassed for her. I picked up the Astroglide bottle and read the back out loud.

"Experience pure sexcitement with Astroglide's new premium lubricant, Astroglide X. This new formula was designed for those who demand high performance products to enhance their love life. Astroglide X contains a unique blend of high quality ingredients – known to act as skin conditioners – for enhanced silky sensations and prolonged mutual stimulation. For a truly SEXSATIONAL experience, add Astroglide X."

"Sexsational!" Jessica cackled. "That is so my new favorite word!" I nodded in assent. Can't think of a better word to describe my fiancé, I thought.

It was Angela's turn to pull from the bag. "Chapstick, to keep your lips kissable and soft," she said, tossing a three-pack of Lipsmackers at me. I fumbled them, and was happy to see that they were actually normal flavors like cherry, vanilla, and mint. They all contained sunscreen. Again…this adds to my growing evidence to support the beachside honeymoon theory.

"And finally…most important of all…" Rosalie reached her hand into the bag. The rest of the girls began to make drum roll sounds with their hands on the coffee table. What's it going to be now? I wondered. I tried to think of any other sex related item that could have been bought at Safeway and was coming up blank.

"Ta-da!" Alice cried, as Rosalie, with a flourish whipped the final item out of the bag. I stared, aghast, then swallowed hard. It was the last thing that I would have expected to see in a bag of drugstore items.

"A nurse costume?" I squeaked, in a voice that said you've gotta be joking. "That's in the survival kit? With all the medications and practical things, you put a nurse costume? As in…our sex life will not survive without it?"

"It's from Emmett," Rosalie said with glee, a mirthful look on her face, reveling in my humiliation. "He was very insistent that you needed one."

"Of course," I said sarcastically. "Of all the medical complications that Edward and I could face on our honeymoon, forgetting the nurse costume is the most serious."

As if he'd been waiting outside the door for his cue, Emmett burst into the room, dressed in regular clothes, his Ice-Sculpture-Delivery-Man costume gone. "It would constitute as sexual emergency, if you ask me. Nurse costumes are the best! Besides, if you're going to be messing around with a bunch of medically related stuff, you might as well do it in the proper attire," he said in a boisterous voice. Rosalie grinned. I covered my eyes and sighed. The last thing I needed right now was kinky sex advice from the "Raging Bear."

"Go away Emmett," I groaned. He ignored me, and instead strode up behind me and began tickling me furiously. I laughed and squirmed uncontrollably, much to my dismay. There's nothing funny about this. Why is he forcing me to laugh? After about a minute of torture, he stopped, and looked me right in the eye.

"There's a little-known Cullen family secret that may be of interest to you," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"What's that?" I wondered in a grumpy voice.

"Like you…Edward is very ticklish," the massive monster said in a serious voice, his dimples deepening as he grinned. "He may be stronger than you, but if you get him in the side, just beneath the rib, he's completely helpless."

I tucked the tidbit away for future use, but then narrowed my eyes at him, putting my hands on my hips. "What are you still doing here, Em? I thought bachelorette parties strictly for guests of the XX chromosomal makeup."

He chuckled. "Don't worry; I'm not here to stay. Pierre just wanted me to let everyone know that the limo is here to take you guys out to the clubs."

I frowned, glancing at Alice. "I thought you said that the bars and clubs were walking distance from here," I said, confused.

"They are," she replied. "That doesn't mean that we're walking though." She snorted with derision. "Come on! You don't think that I'd make you walk half a mile on concrete sidewalks in heels? You'd break an ankle!" From her serious glance, I didn't doubt it.

As my ladies in black grabbed their purses, reapplied their lipstick, and headed for the door, Emmett pulled me aside. "Pssst! Bella!" he whispered, motioning me into a corner.

"What is it?" I whispered back, wondering why we were whispering. He glanced around, making sure that none of the humans were listening in on our conversation.

"You know how you keep trying to seduce Edward and he keeps getting away before anything happens?" My jaw dropped. How does he know anything about that? I wondered. I eyed Alice suspiciously.

"What about it?" I asked, angry that everyone seemed to know what went on in the privacy of my little bedroom. Emmett gave me a fond smile.

"If he saw how you looked right now, he wouldn't stand a chance. I'm going to say this in the most big-brotherly way possible: the men out there tonight aren't even going to know what hit them; the word hot doesn't even begin to describe how good you look tonight." My face suddenly felt very, very warm. Was my future brother-in-law drooling over me?

"Um…thank you? I think…" I faltered. He grinned widely.

"Gotta jet, sis," he said, patting me on the head, which felt a little patronizing. "Have a good time. Prepare to be hit on persistently by horny human males. They'll be after you tonight like you wouldn't believe." With that, the gargantuan vampire was gone and Alice was ushering me out the door and to the elevators.

What have I gotten myself into?