A Brain, A Heart, A Home, The Nerve.

Yeh, it's sad, believe me, Missy

When you're known to be a sissy

Without the vim and verve

But I could show my prowess, be a lion and not a mou-ess

If I only had the nerve

EPOV

There are just some things that I understand to be true. My brother is not to be trusted, never get into the pissing match known at Truth or Dare once the weed's been passed, and The Wizard of Oz is the worst movie ever…Except for Sweet November. But that's a chick flick so it doesn't count. It doesn't count at all.

I'm watching my fuckhead of a brother laugh his ass off. He thinks he's a pretty funny guy and he's usually laughing at someone for some reason or another. Unfortunately, this time, the laughing is entirely at my expense.

You'd think he would have more respect for our family honor, but nope. Not Emmett McCarty Cullen. He's over with a posse of badly dressed boys and minimally clad ladies. Pirate Cullen is over there on the couch, his crew of partygoers, all of them with the laughing and the pointing and the staring.

Emmett needs to remember that payback is one nasty bitch.

I'm on what has to be the final of a six-pack that I started an hour ago sitting on the piano bench in the living room, and my legs fucking itch from the tulle.

"FUCK. YOU. EMMETT!" I scream across the half-filled living room.

Emmett's response, glee-filled shriek of laughter could be heard through the entire building.

I resumed my self-immersion in Sam Adams. Six down, but the night was young. I had only changed into my costume an hour ago and, as far as I can tell, the people who really need to be at the party hadn't yet shown.

The girls still hadn't shown up and I was counting on Alice; she promised she was going to bring Bella. If let to her druthers, Bella would sit at home in her sweats passing out candies to the two children who lived in her apartment building. That's no good; she needs to be here.

Alice better not be too late. Hmm…I wonder what her costume's gonna be. Alice told me that I would be pleasantly surprised.

With that thought, I noticed that my beer was empty. Damn. I am not willing to be without liquid refreshment if I have to deal with the Costume From Hell. That beer was the last of the six-pack I picked up before Farce-O-Ween began. I thought about what I'd drink next.

There was a keg of the Beast in the guest bathroom for the unclad and underwashed masses to share once they paid the cover charge, but there's no way in hell I'm desperate enough to drink that shit or deal with those assholes tonight.

I know where the good stuff is. Tonight calls for excessive alcohol and I prefer to access the good stuff.

Hmmm. It'd serve him right if I wipe him out of his Super Sacred Secret Stash. I headed off to the kitchen to dig up the good stuff. As I hurried through the room, I could feel the sidelong glances and sense the barely suppressed snickering.

Fuck it.

Fuck them.

Pushing the folds of some-sort-of-orange fabric out of my way, I knelt down to find the Secret Stash.

Hmmm…Ok. The supplies definitely weren't for lacking.

What do we have here? Patron. No, not so much. JD. That's not gonna do it either. Huh? Why the hell does Emmett need an entire case of Boone's Farm? Pussy. Aha! Here we go. Ketel One is just the thing.

Taking the full bottle, I resumed my position on the bench by my piano in the living room. I watched as Jasper kept letting coeds and no-eds into the apartment. His view: if he'd fuck 'em, they can come in. So far, it appeared that we had a slutty nurse, a trampy cop, a whole lotta playboy bunnies and wanna-be hookers, several naughty schoolgirls, and Glinda the Good Witch.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou Emmett.

I had a perfectly fine costume picked. Shit, pirate costumes never fail and I was channeling Young Johnny Depp, the 21 Jump Street Johnny Depp. Turns out she has a thing for pirates; I figured that out after she was all but panting the one day she made me sit through a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon.

I grinned as I remembered that night. My dick twitched in appreciation; she had never gone down on me before that night. She's my saucy pirate wench.

Where the fuck is she!?

Knocking back a few slugs of the clear liquid and ignoring the throbbing beat of the random hip-hop Emmett had cranked, I glared at my brother and remembered how I got in this predicament.

I would not just be a nuffin'

My head all full of stuffin'

My heart all full of pain

I would dance and be merry

Life would be a ding-a-derry

If I only had a brain

EPOV

A week or so ago, Jasper, Emmett, and I were hanging out at our apartment. The girls had taken a weekend to go to Portland to visit some friends for what Alice declared to be "Primo Girl Time." Jasper and I rolled our eyes at that; the last time the girls had gone for a weekend away, they each had gotten their belly buttons pierced. Sexy, yes, but who knows what they'd end up doing this weekend? I equally feared and hoped for a tattoo.

Oh well. They're big girls. Bella, Alice, and Rosalie know how to take care of themselves.

I have keep reminding myself of that when they run off for the weekend; I get nervous when I can't see Bella for extended periods of time. She does seem to get herself into unreasonable amounts of trouble.

Hell, the first time we met was after a notably heroic rescue attempt as she attempted to rollerblade for the first time. I came out of my favorite bakery munching on a warm apple cider donut and nearly got creamed by this leggy brunette wobbling all to hell on an unfortunate pair of blades. I steadied her, offered to share the spare donut I had stashed in the bakery bag, and volunteered myself to walk her back to her apartment

So that weekend it was just the three guys. We prepared for a marathon session of Wii, DVDs, and drinking.

By ten pm on Saturday, we were bored mindless.

"I miss Rosie," Emmett whined. I missed the hell out of Bella, but I wasn't about to turn this into an Oprah Special.

"Hold on, Jasper and Edward. I know what we can do right now that would normally make Rosie chop off my balls." Crap, Emmett. That's never a good thing.

He ran to his room and I could hear him dig around for a while. He finally emerged from his room holding a baggie and wearing a shit-eating grin.

"Um, Emmett, is that what I think it is?" Emmett nodded in response to Jasper's question.

"Dude. We're a little old for that, don'tcha think?" He shrugged apathetically at me and then proceeded to roll the joint.

And then the real trouble began. By the time we had puff puff passed our way through three of the sickly sweet joints, all the while tossing back the Chivas, we were laughing like schoolgirls. Somewhere in the midst of the giggling and drinking, one of us—Emmett, I believe—had the wise idea to play Truth or Dare…which in guy speak means either Be a Pussy or Take the Damn Dare.

Seriously, what 23 year old guy doesn't want to play a game whose primary reason for existence is for teen girls to 'experiment' and get some play?

By the time we started that nonsense, the pot, the Chivas, and the beer we'd had earlier in the night started to hit hard. I vaguely remember Emmett being dared to flash our neighbors; Jasper and Emmett nearly got into a fight when Jasper refused Emmett's dare of altering one of Alice's hellishly high heels; I remember agreeing to let Emmett pick my Halloween costume.

I naively thought I was getting off easily with that one. I mean, really? How bad could a different costume be? It certainly couldn't be worse them my brother flashing the next door neighbors, a couple in their sixties. Emmett was convinced that the husband had a crush on him.

The next morning, after painfully clearing the contents of my stomach for what seemed to be eons, I was replenishing my electrolytes, chugging PowerAde and downing bananas to help ease the hangover hell. Halfway through my feast, Emmett trotted into the kitchen, rubbing his palms together in glee.

"Brother, I have the best costume EVER picked out for you!" He chirped as he headed out to hit the gym. Bastard never gets a hangover.

Toward the end of the week, he brought a copy of The Wizard of Oz home from Target and made us watch it. A few days later, he pulled out his dusty LP of Dark Side of the Moon and we watched the movie again. I never have been a huge fan of the movie, didn't know that Emmett was, but tolerated this newly developed and unusual preoccupation of his with barely suppressed agitation.

I tried getting him to let me know what costume he'd picked for me, but mum was the word. He smiled, told me not to worry, said that everything was taken care of, and walked off whistling "The Lollipop Guild." I still had no clue what brothermine had up his sleeve.

And then tonight the bastard comes trotting down the hallway with this…monstrosity…in his hands; all the while singing "We're Off to See the Wizard." As he passed the costume my way, he laughed like a fucking hyena, said "See you in a few, bro," and then cloistered himself in his room until the party began.

Drunkenly, I looked to my slightly distorted image in the mirror on the opposite wall. There I was: neck to toe in orange, in a fluffy, orange monstrosity.

I stood up to turn away from that reminder of my stupidity. As I stood, my knees started to wobble and my head felt as though it was a snow globe being shaken by a giddy six year old. I looked at the bottle of vodka and realized that I finished the entire thing.

Shit. That's not good.

And then the world went black.

BPOV

I can't believe that Alice made me wait three hours to get to the party. She wanted to make an entrance and have a better chance to make an impression on Jasper; I needed them to hook up already. Their incessant awkward flirting was driving everyone crazy.

She had spent the majority of the day dragging me from spa to salon and from shop to shop and then, once those chores were over, trying to coerce me into this pitiful excuse for a dress and the stilts currently affixed to my feet.

As I moved into the apartment that the guys shared, I started looking for him. I missed him.

I scanned the crowd for his unmistakable coif of bronze hair and I saw Emmett giggling at something. Emmett. Giggling. Hmmm. I then noticed something else

Why does Emmett have a Sharpie in his hand?

Shit, that boded no good for his poor victim. I headed toward him, grabbing Rosalie's hand as I went because if anyone can wrangle that man-child into submission, it's Rosalie.

We made our way across the room surprisingly quickly, considering the swarm of sluts that were bumping and grinding to the music.

And then I saw Emmett's copper haired victim.

"Dammit, Emmett! What the hell did you do to him?" I screamed at him, pushing Emmett off of my Edward. Rosalie took Emmett away and I took a good look at my man.

There's Edward Fuckable Cullen, all 6' 3" of his leanly muscled gorgeousness. I'm still not sure how he picked me out of all the other girls around. I love him, though, and have stopped tormenting myself with that question. I tug down Alice's joke of a costume and squat next to Edward.

Oh poor Edward. I saw the empty bottle of vodka a few feet away from him; this costume's gotta be killing him. I didn't even know they made Glinda costumes in his size.

In the middle of his forehead, Emmett had written H-O. It looked like he'd started writing another letter; my guess is that he'd started an M. Edward had mentioned Emmett's recent obsession with The Wizard of Oz. I now understood why.

Stupid boys.

I tried to wake him up by shaking him gently, but got no response.

I shook harder and started to get worried. How much did he drink tonight?

"Edward Cullen! Wake your sorry ass up now!" I can't believe he was this careless. "Goddamn it! Wake the fuck up!" I kept shaking and shaking him, getting angrier and angrier as the seconds ticked by.

"Can't you use your fucking big brain instead of the ego that's stuck in your pants for once?" I thwapped him across his noggin for emphasis, and commented, "Stupid boy."

"You didn't mind the ego in my pants the last time you had him in your mouth," he mumbled softly. His evergreen eyes slowly fluttered open and I saw his lopsided smirk twitch; he'd be fine. He wouldn't be getting into anyone's pants tonight except for his own, but he'd be fine.

Just to register emotion, jealousy, devotion

And really feel the part

I could stay young and chipper

And I'd lock it with a zipper

If I only had a heart

EPOV

I was slowly brought out of the blackness brought on by my alcohol consuming frenzy by a very pissed off sounding Bella. Damn. I wondered what Emmett had done do incur her wrath this time.

I heard her ask me why I couldn't think with my big head instead of my little one. That was just too funny; she seemed to like him just fine most of the time.

Hearing a sharply drawn breath that seemed closer to a gasp of outrage, I tried to figure out what she was pissed about.

Slowly opening my eyes, I realized that I had made that last little observation out loud. Shit. That didn't go over well.

Gently rolling my head to the side, I let my eyes adjust to the new influx of light onto my alcohol-ravaged retinas. As my eyes adjusted to the limited light in the apartment, two willowy legs encased in white stockings, possibly the most heavenly sight imaginable, greeted me.

Bella was squatting next to me, apparently from when she was trying to revive me. As my eyes continued up the legs I so love to have wrapped around me, my gaze was unimpeded by anything but nylon, so I kept going, going, going, until HELLO, I saw the suspenders from a garter belt and then a blue and white checked hem on her skirt.

Garter belt. Ung. She was going to kill me tonight.

I finished the rest of the journey to the apex of her thighs and saw her bare pussy through the delicate webbing of her panties.

Smooth.

Alice must have taken her to the spa for a wax.

Oh how I wanted to go in for a taste. Hell, she'd be cumming so hard she'd be too satisfied to care. Ah, but she's a screamer, so it's not like I could feast discreetly.

Later, my love. Later.

Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes away from where I wanted to be, from where I wanted to settle in and stay for the rest of my life, and moved my gaze over the rest of her costume.

Those sadistic pricks had dressed My Bella in an R-rated Dorothy costume. From the sky-high red glitter platform heels to the dangerously low-cut neckline of the shirt under the checked apron dress that was playing peek-a-boo with her nipples.

I was in heaven and in hell.

Though, on a positive note, the Glinda hideousness did a better job of hiding my erection than the tight as hell pirate costume would have done. Huh.

Bonus.

I finally met her eyes, but was not greeted by the I'm-happy-you're-ok-I-love-you-let's-go-fuck warm brown gaze that I wanted to see. Instead, all I saw were angry golden sparks shooting at me.

What the hell?

"You ass!" She hissed at me. HISSED. At. ME?! "You just had to be a baby about this instead of just sucking it up and dealing. Idiot." Finishing this chastisement, she smacked me on the side of the head, not enough to really hard enough to hurt, but with enough force to make my already woobly head spin a few more times.

By the time I had gathered myself from the new bout of dizziness, she had summoned Rose over to help her stand up. Alice really should not have shoved Bella, clumsy, danger magnet Bella into those skyscraper heels.

"Baby, come on. Don't be mad," I pleaded to her retreating form.

Rose pivoted, glared at me, and snapped, "Go play with your brother, dumbass. You deserve each other right now," and then stomped to the kitchen with Bella in tow.

As I stared at the two women that had both my brother and I wrapped around their respective fingers, Emmett made his way over to me, reached for my hand, and helped me stand up on my rather unsteady feet.

"Emmett, what the hell was that all about?"

He shrugged, "Apparently we're immature douche bags. Rose's words."

"Oh," I tersely replied, still unsure as to how I was being immature.

"Damn, you idiot. Bella's pissed cuz you nearly drank yourself into the Drunk Tank."

Shit. I made her worry; she doesn't handle that very well. It's what happens when you have to parent your parents; she'd spent too much of her life making sure that her mother, Renée, minded her p's and q's. I'd have to formulate a plan to fix this. Tonight.

But before I got started on that, I noticed a subtle change in Emmett's appearance that I was compelled to mention.

"Really, asshole: guyliner?" I snorted at this addition.

"Shut up, Glinda," he retorted, and I did.

Emmett strolled into the kitchen for some supplies, I propped myself up against the nearest wall and proceeded to watch the girls as they huddled near the table on the other side of the room. He came back, tossed me a purple PowerAde and grinned.

"Man, you're cut off," he commented as he pointed toward the purple bottle.

"Yeah, yeah," I shrugged. There were bigger problems to contend with right now. "So how are we gonna fix this?"

"Fix?"

"Yeah, fix," and I pointed to the women in the other room.

"Oh. Rosie's always pissed at me about something. She'll calm down and, anyway, she's happy she got to paint me a little bit." He pointed while rolling his eyes to the JohnnyDeppliner circling them. "You, on the other hand, are screwed."

"Thanks, Emmett. Thanks a lot."

He snorted and then wandered off toward the crowd of people circling the entertainment system. I returned my focus to the trio around the table. They were laughing about something and I was enjoying watching Bella's boobs bounce along with her chuckles.

Not wanting to overtax my somewhat tenuous equilibrium, I crossed the room to sit on my piano bench and resumed stalkerwatch 2008. Hmmm…Bella reached across the table and, Christ, I could, if I squinted and angled my head just right, see everything I saw earlier. Mmmm…Bella bent over a table. We haven't done that yet.

Focus, Edward. Focus.

I leaned back against the piano and tried to figure out what I could do. So what was she pissed about? OK, yeah, I probably shouldn't have tried to drown my sorrows as enthusiastically as I had done. What had she said? I should have just dealt with wearing the costume? I thought I had been.

Huh.

Emmett strolled over looking smug as all get out holding some sort of magazine. Sitting down next to me, he handed me the book. "This might help."

I looked at it, rolled my eyes, and commented, "You have got to be kidding. This is taking it a bit far, don't you think?'

Shaking his head vehemently, he added, "She'll eat that shit up."

Groaning, I acknowledged that he was probably right and started flipping through the pages. I am so whipped. Give me Chopin, give me Debussy, don't give me a book of showtunes and ask me to play along merrily. This is not my kind of music at all. But for her, I'd do it. For her, I'd play along. "This better work, Em."

He snickered, walked over to the sound system and turned down the hip-hop despite the loud protests from the drunks molesting each other in time to the pulsing music.

I perused my choices and noticed that I hadn't realized just how many songs were in the Wizard of Oz. Finding the one that seemed most appropriate, I turned around on my piano bench, flipped up the cover on the keyboard, and started the familiar tune. Sensing that people were watching me play, which was not usually a big deal, was a little annoying and a bit distracting; I only wanted an audience of one, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Yo, Eddie," taunted my brother, "aren't there words to that song?"

Gah. There are. Fuck it. I was already in this deep; I figured I might as well hit the final nail on the coffin of my dignity. Taking a deep breath, I started reading the words and smoothly started the song again and picked up with the verse that seemed to fit the bill.

"When a man's an empty kettle, he should be on his mettle and yet I'm torn apart," I sang quietly trying to avoid the prying eyes.

"Just because I'm presumin' that I could be kinda human if I only had a heart," I was reminded why I hated this movie; these lyrics were just weird.

Please work, please work, please work.

"I'd be tender, I'd be gentle, and awful sentimental regarding love and art," I kept on with the song and finally felt some movement behind me as someone quietly shouted, "move it," but kept on with my song.

"I'd be friends with the sparrows and the boy that shoots the arrows," and she sat next to me. I turned to her, looked in her chocolate colored eyes and finished, "if I only had a heart." She smiled, sighed, and turned to rest her head on my shoulder.

I finished the rest of the song with my girl at my side and the rest of the tone-deaf idiots at my house singing along with the tune. It was a good moment, even if it reeked of cheese.

"I'm sorry," I confessed when the song was over.

"Just be safe. I can't deal with that shit; I just can't."

"I know." I kissed her then. Not too hard, not real deep, but a soft apology and she kissed back her acceptance. "Do you wanna get out of here? Don't I owe you three wishes or something for saving my life?"

She grinned, "Ah, you should. Alas, you are the good witch and I have not been a good girl."

I raised an eyebrow and grinned noting, "But you've always been a good girl."

"Eddie, honey, baby," she smirked knowing how much I hated that nickname. "Even good girls have their secrets. Alice and I went on a little adventure today."

"Oh, I saw that you must have gone to the spa."

She looked at me quizzically and the only thing I could do at the moment was grin my widest grin.

She blushed remembering. "Um," she stammered, "not that. I added some jewelry."

What had Alice let her do?

I was horrified and excited at the same time as my thoughts ran rampant. I ran my gaze over her in a quick assessment. Nothing new in the ears; it was still the same four pair of silver studs on her lobes and nothing new anywhere else on her face. I scanned down to the peek-a-boo top and stopped. I met her eyes questioningly, flicked my glance back down to her chest, and met her gaze once again. Her blush confirmed my hope.

This was going to be fun.

"Just, um, be gentle tonight." Her blush shone even brighter making that request.

Gentle, hell, I can do gentle. I can also bend her over, not be so gentle, and still not hurt her.

During my daydream, Bella stood up, adjusted her shorter than short skirt, and grabbed my hand.

"C'mon Edward, let's get out of here," she urged.

Standing up, I noticed how large the crowd in the living room had gotten and wondered aloud, "It might take a while to get out of here."

"Don't worry about that. Remember, it's all in the leading." Her eyes flashed at me as she grinned and began weaving through the crowd.

Smug, silly Bella killed me. I swatted her behind, picked her up, and carried her toward the door.

"What are you doing?" She asked breathlessly, "Besides trying to cop a feel?"

I flashed my brightest smile, "Just trying to get us out of here."

Stepping into the kitchen, where purses, keys, and phones were stashed, we grabbed the necessary supplies.

I tugged on her hand, lifted her again despite her giggling protests, and kissed her thoroughly.

"I love you, you fool," she told me.

"This fool loves this silly girl," I retorted. Closing the door to the apartment behind me, she snatched the car keys out of my hand.

"I'm driving."

Sighing, I gave in easily. "Drive us home, babe," my mind ran wild with the thoughts and plans that would keep us occupied all night long once we got to her place. "There's no place like home."

I'd be brave as a blizzard

I'd be a gentle as a lizard

I'd be clever as a gizzard

If the Wizard is a Wizard who will serve

Then I'm sure to get a brain, a heart, a home, the nerve.