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

A/N: Suggested Listening: The Moment That It Stops by The Narrative, I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked by Ida Maria, Self Esteem by The Offspring, All Alright by Fun

This out-take takes place over the course of Chapters 20-23 of Butterflies and Hurricanes, and is for everyone wondering what exactly has been going on with Leah and Paul. Enjoy!

Out-Take One: I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked

"Could you be real, just for a second?"

"I am being real... I'm serious, you shouldn't have to apologise for anything."

The look he was giving me was genuine, but I couldn't figure out the catch behind the words. Who they were coming from was the biggest clue of all. I narrowed my eyes at him, shaking my head and spinning around to continue on my path.

"Cut the bullshit, Paul. It's-" I shuddered dramatically, "...unsettling."

"It's not bullshit - I'm agreeing with you. Fuck, are you so used to fighting that you don't even know when someone's on your side?" His footsteps continued in my wake, and I almost crashed into his chest when I turned once again to study him. He was looking down at me – one of the few guys in the whole state who still could - with something that looked akin to earnest. "I'm on your side."

The eye-roll couldn't be helped. Really. He was driving me nuts. "You know, this sympathetic crap is wearing thin. It's not like I don't know how much of a bitch I am, Paul." I examined the stubs which used to be my fingernails before looking back at him. "In case you haven't noticed, I kind of revel in it. You of all people should be able to relate."

"Of course I can. Aren't you listening?" he said, giving me a look of frustration that probably matched my own.

"You're on my side," I said evenly, not quite conveying the magnitude of my disbelief through my tone. Something around here stank, and it definitely wasn't me. He nodded, his face emotionless as he mirrored my folded arms. "Against Sam – against them?"

He sighed. "Look, everyone around here knows what a shit deal you got... I'm not going to start judging you for lashing out at them." His lips quirked up on one side in a smirk. "Besides, you do it in style."

A smug sneer stretched across my mouth, and I looked past his shoulder, back in the direction we came. "Girl's gotta get her hits in while it still hurts," I mused.

Paul's chest shook in a mischievous chuckle, his hand moving to wipe the smile right down his chin. He shook his head. "I can't believe you said that to him."

I threw up my shoulders, turning on my heel again. "It's the truth. Mostly."

"You really faked it for the first six months you guys were doing it?" He fell into step beside me, watching my reactions with more interest than was probably warranted.

Cocking a brow, I didn't meet his gaze, training it on the trail through the trees I was headed for. There was no way I was answering that one; my life was enough of a soap opera as it was, and it wasn't my fault Sam and Emily felt the need to make their little announcement with an audience. It wasn't my fault I'd given Emily some sage bedroom advice for the newly-wed right in front of Paul, Jared and Kim.

Alright, so it was unnecessary, but fuck if it wasn't fun.

"Aw, come on... you can't plead the fifth now. Spill."

"Why?" I barked. He was really starting to grate on my thin patience. "Worried Sam's not the only one privy to my Oscar-worthy performances?" I was walking backwards now. Dude didn't seem to take the hint that I didn't have time for a chit-chat. I smiled smugly off into the trees. "A lady wouldn't divulge that. Not without ulterior motive. Maybe I'll tell you when there's something I actually need from you, Lahote."

Paul's trademark bravado was back, and he wrinkled his brow. "Darling, if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that nobody's that good an actress." His steps halted, and I found mine doing the same. He seemed closer now than he had been a minute ago. "And there's no way you'd need to fake anything with me."

I stood for a second, for some reason entranced by that look he was giving me, and how he'd seemed to step so far into my personal space that his breath was on my cheeks. So this is what it was all about.

"Looking for a repeat performance, huh?" I said, finding my voice again. I really fucking hated knowing that he could tell I wasn't totally unaffected. The temperature was rising, and I think most of it was to do with the searing heat in my blood. The one night we'd explored... that.. was one for the books, and yeah, I'd thought about it again. And again. None of the breakable losers I'd spent my time with since had quite held up – but there was no way I was going to let him know that.

Walking a finger up his chest, I followed my hand with my gaze, satisfied with the catch of his breath and the nervous wetting of his lips. I just needed to buy time, get my head straight.

"I'm game if you are."

His eyes were blazing as they settled on my lips with the same want I'd seen before, but I wasn't falling for this shit. It was enough to put one notch on Paul Lahote's bedpost, never mind carve a second. My hand came to rest on his cheek, and I pushed.

"Not in this lifetime, hombre."

He took a deep breath, needing a moment to gather his bearings as I stormed off. I seemed to be doing a lot of that these days.

"I can wait," he called after me, and I shook my head, continuing onwards. "Just... in the mean time? Remember who's got your back."

I turned with a frown, feeling that weirdness taking over again. "What's your game, Paul?"

He held his hands out innocently. "Just reminding you, you've got a friend. I'm here."

I shook my head, turning yet again. At this rate, I wouldn't make it home by dark. "This is fucked. "

"Leah, do yourself a favour, and learn not to push everyone away." I stiffened, feeling like those words weren't quite his own.

"I'll try to remember that, Dr. Phil. What, you've been reading one of those self-help books again?" That would have been a stretch; Paul hadn't read anything since dropping out of High School that didn't have at least one exposed nipple. In fact, the words sounded like they'd come from a different source. I steeled my jaw, taking a step forward as it slowly dawned on me. I was going to get to the bottom of this. I needed to go see Bella.

Shuffling my feet, I knocked again, wondering what the hell the hold-up was. Paul could hear as well as I did, even over the blaring television and the crackle of beer cans I picked out from the living room. It was common knowledge how Paul's old man had dealt with his mom's death, so there's wasn't much mystery surrounding wh was the cause of all the noise. He really needed to get the fuck out here - if he kept me standing here much longer, this terrible lapse in judgement might have worn off.

After a third knock, a resounding "PAUL! GET THE FUCKING DOOR!" boomed over the chaos, and the slamming of an interior door cut off the noise to an extent. It was replaced by a screech of guitars and angry vocals, before a second slam rang out, and stomping footsteps came in my direction. The front door swinging open to reveal him looking shocked, worn out, and pretty fucking out-of-character.

"What are you doing here?" he said, automatically pulling the door tight to his shoulder, so that all I could see was the expanse of his chest clothed in the tattered, grey, wife-beater. I kept my eyes trained there, because I had no desire to get caught staring at those black boxer-briefs, and have to live with the jibes. The dude was built like a fucking underwear model, but it was no use letting him know I knew that.

"I talked to Bella," I said simply, jutting my chin out while I figured out what the hell to do with my hands.

He shifted his weight on the door frame and stared. Why did he always have to stare? "And?"

"And she told me about your little reconnaissance mission. Thought I wouldn't figure it out, huh?"

That self-satisfied look was back, and he picked at the splintered wood, training his eyes on the gesture. "Not really, but what did I have to lose?"

"I could have come here to cut your balls off."

His eyes slithered in a wide ark towards my face. "But you didn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm still standing here with a full package." His eyebrows rose as he flickered his gaze down towards his own crotch. Well, he had me there. "So, you wanna talk?"

I shook my head, wondering for the tenth time in as many minutes what the hell I was doing, how I'd let Bella Swan talk me into hearing this asshole out, but something made me stay. I didn't know if it was he promise of perfection under the threadbare shirt, or the infinite heat in his eyes as he looked - I mean really looked - at me instead of avoiding my gaze like an intimidated bunny. I leaned a weary arm on the door frame and grimaced.

"Not really, but is there any way of avoiding it?"

He shrugged. "Not if we're going to be grown-ups about this."

I scoffed, taking a step back. He was doing that personal space thing again. "Wow, Paul Lahote wants to be the grown up," I teased.

"I wanna do grown-up stuff," he smirked, "With you. Seems we should at least be able to talk like adults." I felt like he was drinking my whole being in with the way his eyes raked over my body. I could have been naked and felt the same. For some fucking insane reason, that didn't really scare me like it ought to.

I didn't have a snappy comeback at the ready, so I just chewed on my lip. Maybe I'd been spending too much time around Swan. "Put some pants on, then."

"Make you uncomfortable, do I?" he asked, already stepping backwards into the house.

I shook my head. "No, but grown-ups usually tend to wear pants. It's kind of expected. Y'know, manners and all."

He grinned devilishly at me, took an exaggerated bow, and winked. "Whatever you say, m'lady."

The tree was pressing into my back, and I could feel the scratches left by the bark already beginning to heal. Turning my head to the side, I ripped my lips away from his, panting as I tried to clear the fog that had nothing to do with the late summer night, or the heat coming off two of our kind in uh.. this kind of position.

He reattached his lips at my clavicle, sucking and nipping and running his tongue over tender flesh in time with each slow, lazy thrust. "This still isn't talking, Lee," he mumbled into my skin, the only signs of exertion coming from the billowing breaths running over my exposed skin.

I dug my fingers into his back. Dude was getting distracted. I didn't need that shit right now, not when release was so close. I really fucking missed being with someone who could keep up, not pass out halfway through and call it a victory for getting me naked in the first place.

The next thrust was forceful, and I cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, tightening my grip on his waist with my legs. My eyes widened to take in the image of his gaze melded to mine, each following jerk of his hips designed to hold my attention, not to let this descend into the raw, thoughtless sex it had been the last two times we attempted this.

The first night we'd left Paul's house, drove to the beach to talk, and I'd evaded any semblance of real conversation. The only way I could stop him from storming off was having him press me against the driver's side of my car and fuck me until we almost shattered the windows.

The second attempt was slightly better. We'd finally - begrudgingly- admitted our attraction to one another before seemingly having to prove such attraction, when he ripped my panties off and laid me on the dusty ground by the cliff-tops.

So this was number three, and the anticipation of what was going to happen, plus the memories of what we'd done the last two times meant I was giving off scents I have zero control over. And Paul? Well, he was never one to leave a lady in need. What a gentleman.

"We need to talk about this," he grunted, all gravel-toned and intense and he'd stopped fucking moving. I was so close and he just stops to gossip?

"Paul!" I ground out through a grimace. "Not the time." I attempted to move my hips, encouraging him to just do something to relieve the burning ache that was settling in my lower stomach, but he stood rigid and unyielding. I started to wonder how I'd seen his strength as an attractive attribute. If he was human, I'd have won by now.

His lips were on my neck again, leaving those marks I knew would have bruised before my body changed and stopped being breakable, at least in the ways anyone could see. Maybe my strength was what made him hot. I looked down at the inky darkness of his hair, contemplating yanking a few strands free, just to see what happened, but... huh...whatever he was doing, felt pretty damn good.

"Not getting caught up in this again," he said absently, finally giving in to the torture and rolling his hips so that the crown of my head made harsh contact with the tree. "If we can't talk without doing this, then we'll talk during."

The noise of protest died on my gaping lips as the latest shudders of pleasure exploded within me. He was right, but I didn't want to let him win. The bastard was putting up a hell of a fight, though.

"Fine," I huffed breathlessly, arching my back so I had the advantage of height. "You wanna talk, we'll talk." I searched my mind for anything that wasn't the conversation he had been alluding to. "Have you seen Bella lately? She's gone off the radar."

His smirk was nothing short of infuriating, and he shook his head. "You know that's not what I meant," he warned, "But if you wanna properly include Swan in our quality time, I won't be one to object."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, like I hadn't expected that response. "Hey, we're talking, aren't we."

"Not about what we should be talking about," he said in reprimand, pulling my arm back over his shoulder and securing it, watching proudly as my breasts rose and fell with frustrated breaths.

"Can't you just shut the fuck up and enjoy it?" I clenched my inner muscles sharply, watching with satisfaction as his eyes rolled back in his head, and for a long moment, I was pretty sure he forgot his own name. After the reflexive thrust which made a few late-summer leaves rain down around us, he seemed to get his bearings back, and pressed his cheek against mine. His breath was hot on my ear, and the sheer intimacy of it all left me speechless.

"Do you want me?" he asked, no hint of a tease, no inference that it was an innuendo. Genuine Paul was back, and I didn't know what the fuck to do about it. So I gave in, and I was honest. Squeezing my eyes shut, I rearranged my grasp on his shoulder gulping. I nodded. My reward was another mind-blowing stroke, reaching so deep within me, it was my turn to forget who the fuck Leah Clearwater was.

"But just like this." His tone was resigned, but he didn't falter in bringing me closer to the edge. I nodded again, despite the urge to talk. He grunted in reply, moving me further up in his arms to gain access to my exposed nipple. "I can live with that, for now."

I whimpered as his mouth latched on, shaking my head as a response. A desperate hum sounded in my throat as I clawed the ability to talk back from the abyss. "No – not," I sighed, wetting my lips against the panting of my breath. "It's only gonna be like this."

He lifted his head and looked at me for an endless second, searching my eyes for something I was sure he wouldn't find. I felt bad about it, sure, but I was going to be honest about this. There wasn't anything in me left to give, and if he wanted some beautiful love story, he was going to have to look elsewhere.

"Paul this is all there is. There isn't going to be anything more between us... I mean, you get that, don't you? There's nothing left here for you." I spoke as cnadidly as I could without that rouling feeling of sickness making its appearance. I wasn't the type to wear my heart on my sleeve, and I wasn't the type to go pouring my feelings out to anyone who would listen, but he needed to hear it. I wasn't looking for sympathy. He just seemed to have certain expectations I was in no position to fulfil. I wasn't about to go breaking someone else's heart because I was too full of nothing to give them fair warning.

Could you put all that into words when someone was willing to take that chance on you? Was it fair to tell them you weren't taking a chance on them, when they hadn't even asked yet? He was watching me think, and the different expressions filtering over his face gave me hope and took it away all at once. It was crunch time, and if he was really up to this, now was when he was going to show it.

Suddenly he kissed me. Hard. I could do nothing but respond, feeling his hands move to grip under my ass, keeping my body exactly where he needed it to get precisely what he wanted. The heat was almost unbearable, and he sucked on my bottom lip, allowing me to breathe without relinquishing the hold he evidently had on me.

His movements increased, and all I could make out beyond the darkness was stars and obscure shapes, my body giving in to each wave of pleasure, as I gasped at the last vestiges of coherent thought. It wasn't long until I was coming undone, shaking and whimpering and calling out to a God I no longer believed in. He let me ride out the wave, pressing kisses to my face and smoothing the tendrils of hair stuck to my cheek back as he watched. Stared. He always stared.

He kissed me again, slower this time, without the aggression, and my heart jerked uncomfortably – he didn't understand, and I was going to have to stop this before we both fucked everything up.

"Paul you're still not-"

"I got it. This is it, you and I destined to fuck each other's brains out for as long as it's fun. I know."

"Then why are you... that's not what I," I grunted, wondering why it was so fucking hard to string a sentence together around him.

"You get to call the shots, okay? I'm just along for the ride, and we'll see where this takes us."

I peered at him through the darkness, wondering if it really would be alright, if he really was cold and emotionless enough inside to be able to do this and not get hurt. The way he was looking at me screamed otherwise. For some reason, I wanted to find out.

"Fine," I said in defiance, feeling an instant pull of regret after the fact.

Hi lips pulled up on one side again, and he drew a possessive hand up over my flank, along the curve of my breast and to the back of my head, where he leaned in, promising a kiss, teasing a secret he'd only ever tell me.

"Fine. You can have me like this. Just don't get all pissed when you fall in love with me."