Warning: Language throughout, Erotica in a future chapter.

Suggested Listening: "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is a three part series. I will post every few days, so within a week or two, this story should be complete. Part two is ready, and I'm currently working on the final installment. If the first chapter seems familiar to you, that's because it's also posted in my "Collection of Drabbles". This series began as a flashfic, then the muse got her hands on it and turned it into something more. Hope you enjoy!

Furthermore, Tricky Raven is hosting a silent auction! Authors (including me, SQUEE!) and artists are on the auction block and will go to the highest bidder. If you win, we will create a piece based on your idea! Is there a pairing or a story line you've always wanted to read? Something that's been rolling around in your head that you've always want brought to life? Then this is your chance! Run over to Tricky Raven today to look over the talent on the auction block and get your bid in! Don't miss out—bidding ends April 21st.

Crossing Lines

He smelled her before she crossed the ridge, heard her before she appeared between the trees. Having not phased in months—just to keep them off his trail—he was surprised at how quickly his lupine reflexes spun his body to face her when she stepped into the clearing. Licking his lips, his tongue caught her scent in the air, and a mix of lavender and pine volleyed over his taste buds…

A flavor he remembered all too well.

"What do you want, Leah?"

Placating hands held up on either side of her head, she froze. "I'm just here to talk."

"I didn't walk all the way out here just so you could hunt me down and yell because I broke the leech lover's heart."

"I'm not here to yell, Paul. But you have to come back to La Push."

He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Once. "We both know that's not gonna happen. So, why'd you really follow me to Canada?"

She glanced at the makeshift campsite.

Stapled to the ground with twigs, the tent was standing—though slightly skewed—and each time the wind sweeping through the mountain's higher elevation slapped against the vinyl shelter, it pushed the support pole a little farther off its axis. The fire in the pit was barely flickering, and the wood waiting in line to be tossed on the dying embers was broken rather than chopped. In his haste to flee, he'd obviously forgotten some basic necessities—like tent stakes, like an ax. But the bow he'd fashioned looked impressive as it leaned up against the closest tree, and the rusty pan used for cooking was still wet from the recent dip he'd given it in the nearby stream just prior to her arrival. Still, Leah had to wonder just how many kills he'd scored considering he wasn't allowing himself to phase—the only lethal method at his disposal.

Because in truth, he was looking a little thin.

Paul may have grown up by meager means, having to improvise with what he could scrounge near the reservation—hot meals manipulated from friends' homes, clothes borrowed from the shelter in Forks, broken toys rescued from random piles of garbage. He'd always been cunning and resourceful.

But a rugged outdoorsman, he was not.

"Maybe the better question is, what are you doing here?" She turned her attention back to him, staring into his chocolate eyes so the intent of her question would not be misunderstood. "Who are you running from, Paul?"

"Definitely not her." He dropped Leah's gaze and walked to a small cluster of young cedars huddled together before the thick of the woods took over. Whispering—"Not Bella"—but knowing the wolf in range could hear the husky timbre that coated his breath, he pushed on a slender trunk…just to occupy his hands.

She tilted her head, watching him toy with the sapling until it cracked. "What are you doing?"

"I need more firewood."

"Do you now?" she mused.

Intrigued by her tone, he looked up to catch her staring at his collection of discarded branches and broken limbs behind the tent—the four foot high collection.

"Anyway, you've just destroyed a young cedar, and unless your inexperienced ass wants to start a forest fire, you should stay away from cedars. Plus, with the heavy smoke," she snapped her wrist toward the gray wisps unfurling from the pit, "you give away your location too easily."

His wolf rose to the surface because she was the only one who ever dared to tell him like it was. She challenged him…was the only one worth the fight—

Goddammit. He missed her.

But that stupid Swan with her come-fuck-me tears had gotten his dick confused one night. Then when she ran off whining to baby Alpha the next morning after he didn't call her back…

"What the hell are you doing, Leah? I- I can't do this. We can't." Abandoning the helpless tree, he raked his fingers along his scalp. "I'm so sorry. I wish-"

"It's fine, Paul." She interrupted. "I knew what we were doing. I was able to handle our fucking arrangement—quite literally." She lied. "It was Bella who got attached. Remember?" She deflected.

He'd have given anything to go back in time and commit to Leah. He told her this then, on the mountain, next to the tent. "Fuck, I should've marked you—made it official," he added. Maybe if they would have just communicated…talked about their feelings…what they truly meant to each other…

Maybe if they would have stopped being so goddamn stubborn.

"We had our chance—before we were all enlisted to nurse depressed Bella back to health—but we didn't, and now it's too late." Leah absently tucked a wild hair behind her ear. "You've got to come home though; you don't have a choice."

"Why? What's left for me on the reservation?"

"Bella," she stated without pause. The time for arguments and persuasion was over. "She needs you now, Paul," dropping her eyes to examine her dirt clad feet, she watched, immersed in the quick work of her toe shoveling small pebbles from the earth, "and so will your son once he's born."

*Alright, hit me with your thoughts and feels—if ya wanna. ;)