Here's The Day

by Lyrical Logic

In which, through a series of less-than-spectacular events, Leah Clearwater finds herself embroiled in a plot to save humanity from the forces of the not-quite-so-human. Again. Language, alot of language. Threeshot. Leah-centric.

Here's The Day

In which, through a series of less-than-spectacular events, Leah Clearwater finds herself embroiled in a plot to save humanity from the forces of the not-quite-so-human. Again.

Disclaimer- ME NOT OWN

Warnings- Language, Leah does not take this shit well

Notes- Threeshot and a little seven chapter diddy of a sequel. Crossover between Host and Twilight. Dealing with the underused scenario that yes, vamps did happen and yes aliens did too in the same universe at the same time. Ish. Because I am amazingly annoyed that no one's done this and that there is a real lack of A- progressive Leah fic and B- Anything to do with the characters and issues mentioned at the end of the book (i.e Host).

And I missed writing Leah.

--

LEFT OF HUMAN

--

So, a man walks into a bar.

No, that's not right

An alien walks into a bar

Yeah, much better

Anyway he walks into a bar and-heads straight for the seat in front of her. Shit he's already down for the dance and the skinhead with the jackhammer gun doesn't look too much into sober-

Fuck

Fuckitty, fuck. Fucking aliens. What the un-dead weren't enough? She had to have extraterrestrial spawn?

And know you're wondering, what's an alien and a drunk skinhead got to do with a bar joke. Just so you know, she's a shit joke teller; she doesn't care enough to do it properly. Anyway, an alien walks into a bar and says-

"A guy walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Do you want to play a game? See those two rib-eyes nailed to the ceiling? You get to throw one dart. If you hit one, you get to take them home and I'll give you a free drink.' The man says, 'No thanks, the steaks are too high.'"

-To this fucking gorgeous gal –who's a little left of human anyway, let's go for the meta- with hips and curves and no sharp angles, no, those fangs are for show sugar, really. Anyway, he says that to the gal and she, -being no slouch in the reflex area thank you very much- turns to him and flicks him on the head.

"Buy something, fuck something or get outta my bar." She turns back to her mirror and applies more rouge to an already too red personality. Firework red is where it's at baby boy or did you miss the memo? Honestly, she thinks the sky burning blue would be enough.

Ah, but here comes the meta

Or the catch, whatever, digression right?

Thankfully, Red –he's a fucking ranga man, red mop to red eyelashes- orders a Pulse. Pretty much drinkable deadly nightshade from Steve, who, incidentally has a bad habit of looking too close. So yeah, not quite so thankful.

"We don't serve your kind here."

And yet you serve mine, ya fuckin' redneck. Someone oughta pull your balls out. But she's not really thinking that. Not at all. It's not like she started a bar in a back water version of almighty N'Awlins hoping the burnout of humanity wouldn't catch up with its favourite chew toy. It's not like everything went to shit when the Italians lost their hideaway and the Soul-Takers where one breath away from revealing the world's largest secret. It's not like she did her fucking job anyway, because the Soul-Takers had no fucking clue how to-

(But they always catch on too quickly when you teach them new skills don't they? And then they can't distinguish between what they should kill and what they shouldn't.)

- Not like to hide she had to join up with a secret governmental branch who fucking knew everything.

And that's why the meta pisses her off. Because stupid redneck-Steve and Skinhead-Jackhammer have this annoying habit of thinking with their dicks, which would be fine, hel-lo she's miss Girly-Wolf what does she care about men and measuring sticks. But really, this is the end of the fucking world and Douglas Adams, yeah, take your fucking fish she's not grateful.

Fucking meta.

So, yeah, Red's about to get in a fist off with Steve –stupid redneck- and Jackhammer –my god, that's his actual name, this empathy stuff rocks shit- is gonna be in a back alley waiting to rape him or something. 'Cause that is the way the cookie crumbles in post-apocalypse U-S of freaking A for those unfortunate enough to be left of human.

Or have no human left.

But who wants to be breakable?

Certainly not these human and sure as shit not the Red haired demon spawn in front of her.

"You don't serve paying customers? Damn, bet I should take my life saving medicine somewhere else."

Oooh, bad move Red.

Everyone knows about Steve's sister.

"Waddayasay!" he grabs Red's coat, slams him on the table, Red's grinning though, the blood just seems to make him happy, "You piece a' disgusting worm!? What did ya say to me?!" Steve brings Red up closer.

"You can't save everyone, Steve Reynold. Your sister was just too far gone."

Oh god

He's one of those

You know, smart, caring, a total jerk-off that'll make you believe the lie

(Isn't the best part of believe the lie?- Rosalie, oh god, Bitch-face, Rosalie)

She's had two of those-

(Lee-Lee)

(Le-aaaah)

-neither of them were her prince in shining amore.

So, Steve, angry as a hornet nest, accent so thick she wishes it was a southern dipped –emo-leech, he sounds so much like emo-leech she had to hire him- blanket, drives his arms into a lock behind Red's head and vice locks him. Or something. She's not big on getting close enough that she has to head lock someone. Much more first person shooter than that stupid wrestling game that Seth-

(Oh my god, Seth. Seth! Anyone but Seth)

-liked so much.

"Yeah, well, maybe you're right. Maybe I can't save everyone. But I can tell them why they can't go home. Why they have no family. Why the good Sheppard wails 'Why, god, why? Why have you forsaken us?' at every service." He tightens his –chokehold? Yes, that's a chokehold- on Red and mock-whispers, "Yes, worm boy, why."

Steve ain't the brightest crayon, 'specially not next to dear old Red, but hey, a girls got curiosity. Why, of all the stupid shit he could have said did he say that. That would get him axed, that would get him beaten, mugged, raped, murdered and not always in that order.

Why ruin the meta and takeover a planet they seemed to hate. Biological. Evolutionary. Meta-

(Did she forget to mention the three months spent in Oxfords secret basement with all the priceless books. That was a real hoot, that one. Also, lost library? Not so lost.)

-physical?

Um...where was she? Thinking wise, she knows where she is every other way.

Recap. Red's stuck, Steve's having an aggression orgy in his head and she's...what, exactly?

Besides Leah fucking Clearwater.

She's...curious, confused, a little bit of pity and a lot of sarcasm.

Same as ever really

"I don't know. Why the fuck would they tell me? I'm just-"

'-another hired gun.'

Sweet jesus, no

No way, no freakin' way.

That's too fucking unfair. Way too far cosmos, way too far

Not meta man. Not freakin' meta

Because, you can take her family, her tribe, her purpose but the one thing you can't take?

Her partner

You see, once upon a time in a place too fucking close, Leah Clearwater looked into the eyes of a stranger and found love.

She overlooks the whole, 'white guy, genocide' thing.

And then, as always, he did something irrevocably wrong and he might as well be dead to her.

Literally this time, not just metaphorically.

He pressed the reset button on an Imprint, maybe it was her being the she-wolf (God damn, Shakira and her catchy tunes) maybe it was meta, but he broke the cycle. He broke her soul.

Guess that's why the worms couldn't take her.

Nothing left

"Oi, Leah, find me some rope."

That's Steve. Only he's suicidal enough to talk to her like that. Last guy has no knee caps (And can you see what she learnt in Syria?) So, because continuity demands and she's a damn fine actress by now and Mr De Mil that close up would've been better before the end of the world-

She steps, once again, into the leading role.

"Steve, sugar, dah-ling, I say this because I care. Move on."

Steve's eyes flicker at her and he makes a not so obscure nudge to the door. What? She's fucking psychic now?

"Yes Steve, I do believe there is a door to this fine establishment. Well done." Maybe that was a little cruel but damn he's such a redneck (and not at all like the one she use to know with the blonde hair and the twang and the infectious bubblehead of a wife, not at all) and too much like the 'white boys' who came to the rez to taunt her. She's stronger then you'll ever be Steve, so shut the fuck up.

Much more meta.

But, stupid redneck was right about the door. Apparently, worm-lovers travel in packs like Jackhammer and use big guns.

Well, semi-automatic's

Packing fireworks anyway

Now, in backwash like this, that ain't surprising. In backwash like this a switchblade in a back pocket was your best friend, because humanity is desperate, the worms have no idea what's coming for them and those guys in the mountains? Yeah, not so secret honey.

Anyway the gun people who so obviously came from the desert sit on the tables guns poised on the chair and wait.

"Nate," Red says, "Buddy, mate-"

-what's crackalackin'

Nate, sweet old looking Nate, walks over to Red and says-

"You okay Burns?"

Burns? God, would Ren hate tha-

But Ren doesn't matter does he?

(Stupid heart. Always chooses the wrong people)

"Yeh, I'm fine, wouldn't even know what to do without oxygen deprivation."

And that's so Ren and this is so not meta that she snorts. Once, twice and laughs to herself. Sniffing dignified at the end of each self mutilating course.

He's Ren

Of course he is

She probably should've been watching for that.

Steve wigs out, reaches for her and before he can even touch a single flyaway blonde hair, before he can even think about ripping off her disguise and making her repeat what she already knows, she's grabbed his hand, palmed him in the face, slammed him in the crotch and smashed him over her knee.

"Do not pick racial fights in my bar, ya hear me?"

Fucking worms, fucking blood suckers. Theygo down with the shit and after they wallow a bit call her up to save them. She was done with this years ago she was done with this when-

(Does it hurt? What? Dying?)

Steve's spluttering, blood gushing from his face, hand palming his crotch. Aw, he looks so damn broken. If only they stayed that way.

"Race traitor!"

And hot damn that's funny, because she doesn't have a race to betray anymore.

They made damn sure of that.

Really, she can see where Hitler was going with this. Kill everyone who's not like you and suddenly you have utopia. But then, who's to say what makes you different. Skin, race, species and who really wants to be different? After all the same is different with all the fun and wangst taken out.

Red's talking to Nate, there's a gun happy blonde in the middle and that guys hand is far too close to that 12 year olds ass.

"Yo Mick, shove off the girl before I remind you what happens to people I don't like."

Mick, drunk guy from the 'burbs, wife gone and three mortgages sneers at her.

"Fuck off, worm whore."

Her hands stop moving on the bottle, a fine tremor, one she's so used to not even the meta can take it away forces itself through her hand.

"Now Mick, do you really want to start this?"

And this is her 'Fuck-me-so-I-can-kill-you-voice.' And Red and Nate and blonde star trooper have no idea where the shits about to hit.

"Fuck yea." And like a fuckwit he cracks his knuckles. She hates, men who-

Actually, she just hates men.

"Didn't you hear baby? Knuckle cracking makes you infirm."

He licks his lips once and turns to the girl, cups an underdeveloped ass and-

Well, nothing.

He's too dead to do anything.

She looks for another bottle of brandy, while the worm-lovers look for vitals. Maybe he won't wake up.

Yeah and maybe he'll really be a five year named Lucinda who likes pony rides.

Like, on ponies.

Good god she doesn't get paid enough.

She doesn't pay herself enough.

"By the way Steve, you're fired. I hate your redneck attitude and more than that, I feel like a raise. So, bye dah-ling."

Ah, much better

So, Leah Clearwater is still a harpy and the redneck has another reason to be stupid

The world makes sense again

Apart from the worms.

The worm-lovers sit down and start to order shit, she looks meaningfully at one of her girls to go over. She's tanned, lithe, pretty and so quick to the shit that she's a fucking genius man. Little Lucy, Jenny and Martha are her minions in training. What else was she meant to do? Prostitute them?

Maybe she can be Mother Theresa next time she decides to shed her skin

Which looks to be sooner than she was hoping for, the worm-lovers never come this close 'cept to get supplies and with the population getting so high, most just grow their own. Red's crew don't look desperate and they sure don't look hungry.

So why?

But then, oh then, the fucking meta hits

Oh, so that's why Korea went down like it did

Really, she should have seen this coming. If she had, Red wouldn't have found her in a hundred miles of this many people. To many civilians to witness something. How would she have done it though? Like Steve, chokehold till they just give up or like Skinhead, semi to the brain? Or, better yet, kill with the poison that she knows little Lucy's slipped up her frilly apron just in case the po-lice get her first.

Then again, the meta's on her side, who's to say with the burning (Oh god, that's just too funny. Of all the things in all the world-) coming 'round again lil' Red could tell left from right. But, then, what's she going to do about Ren? She shouldn't just let him go, from all the Intel they only come back if the host remains.

She could have him this time around

They could have them all this time around

Good god, does she want another knight-in-shining-fail?

But this isn't about her. This is about everyone else, again, and does she really want to be the hero again? Does she really want to save lives?

Does Leah 'BitchHarpyWhore' Clearwater wants to wear the amour?

God

They're not that desperate.

(This is so not meta)

Anyway, Red's looking at her like he said some shit she should care about. So instead of being polite she hits the point with a speeding truck of burning oil and go's-

"So, why me. Better yet, why now."

Subtly, is of course, the ingredient of the day

"Excuse m-"

"I know who you are –what you are, silky. Don't act coy." I'm so over fucking coy.

But he's a fuckass who sips his Pulse and looks like a seatard.

"Fine, worm boy let me tell you what happened." She drops the glass, watching the stunned silence with little interest. "A long, long time ago in a place far, far away a huge gleaming vessel travels through hyper space. This ship contains thousands, maybe millions of little baby beings. Glowing silver and with a nature so passive, they just hate the sounds of screams in the morning. But passive isn't for everyone is it baby boy? This sound familiar yet?"

Sarcasm where have ye been? Nothing like some good ol' passive aggression to make you feel alive. Nothing like the thrilling warmth of anger to heat decade old bones to a ridiculous passion. First love, second, third, true love. All kinds of love and passion. If only she knew what the electric jolt between him/it/Ren and her/it/Leah is.

Was

Asshole

(But you could never tell could you? Like Australia at that beach she was so sure that this would turn out right-

-And Ren, baby boy, couldn't you have just stayed?)

"Because on that ship of Christmas carols and rainbow hugs, are a group of highly specialized beings. Aggressive, restless, with such untapped potential."

She does tap him, gently, on the nose. Ren did that to her, he was a fuckwipe.

"Now, don't get me wrong, nothing bad about being a little quick to anger and there's nothing better than a little diplomacy. But with such extremes how can anyone find common ground? The little -damn there really is nothing more appropriate then worms, decide that they can't possibly pollute society with such unhappiness. So, for years, the 'Agros' live on their ship, never knowing that someone's measured them up and found them...lacking"

And her tongues on his pulse and she must look like a whore now and really what does she care; she'll outlive you all bitches.

"But what's this? A new planet you say, full of plants that thrive on aggression. Wouldn't this be perfect for the 'Agro's'? And it was, wasn't it baby boy. So perfect, the bad seeds could mix with the good ones. Some even turned around, saw the light. Others hoped good was infectious, rubbed themselves up and down the bad boys hoping they'd turn to the light."

She leans back. The curl of something forming in her stomach, it's hot and strong and feels like someone hooked her navel to his and just pulled.

She's never close enough.

"But it's not like that is it?"

And just where did all her strength and feminist thinking go?

"It's like a constant thrilling burn up and down your skin isn't it. A thrumming you just can't stop, all this wonderful anger. So unlike anything you'd ever known so you stayed and thrived and when they said 'back on the ships boys and girls' you knew didn't you. You knew."

So she's careful, careful not to touch the sensitive points, careful to not let this burn her up too much, to keep her cool, to keep her calm, careful to hold a hand on a piece of glass, to cut it into her skin, to save a life with it.

"Really? What did I know?"

And god, he is perfect and she would do anything to make him happy-

(So not meta)

-and she's the fucking same as-

-Quil-Sam-Sam-Sam-Sam-SETH-Jake-Seth-Sam-Quil-JAKE-Seth-Seth-Seth

Where did Leah fucking Clearwater go?

(He's not Ren)

"That this is what you wanted."

And oh god he smells the same and little parts of her she's sure she killed off with nerve gas or something sparks back to life. And she's so, so tempted to screw the meta and take this for all it's worth.

She has time doesn't she?

"So, with much resentment-" Don't stand so close to me, "You boarded your ships and slept, you were too...much for the species they found later, too much to fit in. So you slept."

And he's eyes are intense and so, so deep-

"Keep going."

"Then, well, came the end. You found us."

She's too fucking meta for this. Why universe, why take it all away so you can just throw it back like this.

"And we, we were too perfect. Both ends of the spectrum could live here."

He can't see can he? The lines on the glass and the shaking in her hand and how her shoes are suddenly too small and everything's too hot and she needs to eat and nothings ever cold enough to satisfy her because he's this close and her universe is still spinning sideways-

And feeling warm again is suddenly not enough

"And then there was the catch. Emotions, memories, we were too vivid and strong and we didn't take kindly to being invaded or suppressed. So what to do? A bunch of stupid ape people and you needed us. We were perfect."

And she's so tired

(And did you see-

Afghanistan

France

Vietnam

South Africa

Russia

North Dakota

Nepal

Germany

Brazil

-Did you see them die?)

"You sent in the 'Agro's.' Prettied them up called them 'Seekers' and let them loose. Doesn't seem so smart now does it?"

And that fucker has the decency to look abashed.

"No. I guess not."

"Nuh uh, pretty boy. Ya wanna know why?"

So she leans forward and tucks her head against his neck, whispers-

"Because there are still some secrets you just don't have. And me? I know most all of them."

Then leans back 'cause she's out of patience and Skinheads getting edgy.

"Whatever he told you, whatever he was going to tell you, tell him to shut up. Tell him Leah says 'Hi' and 'You remember Austria bitch?'"

She picks up another glass wraps a cloth around the jagged wound on her palm and sets to cleaning another glass.

"Now I ain't the type of gal to brag but I make the best fried chicken in all N'Awlins, and well, you can never be too sure who'll just pop on by for a quickie."

She turns away from him and crunches the glass all around her. The blood's starting to seep through her rag and for a moment she imagines painting the sky red.

Burning blue baby

"You got me sugar?"

He's a fucking worm, he is, just like those stupid bloodsuckers and he's going to ruin everything again.

"Loud and clear, darling, loud and clear."

Fucker, is all she can think, absolute fucker

But he's the key, and so's the other one they think no one knows about.

"Should you need it."

It's a little scrap of tubular glass made only when-

Oh that's just mean

-when lightning strikes the ground.

Inside is another riddle she just does not want.

"And where am I-"

"Know a place called the Olympic range?"

And suddenly, she knows what it feels like to have someone really rip your heart out.

So not Meta

--

On Leah's use of the word meta, I do know what the word means and I do know where to put it so it makes sense, Leah is using it as an expression the same way she uses fuck. It means something entirely different to her, something more as well as less.

And now that I've been sufficiently tiresome I'll let you move on with your lives.