Wanderlust - Chapter One

She sneered at no one in particular, watching in fascination and slight triumph as their faces distorted into disgust as cigarette smoke danced lazily in front of their faces. With bored eyes, she scanned the gawking crowd coming out of the store, not caring the least as old women eyed her too-short-shorts with disdain, didn't care as children watched in slight awe as she took drag after drag on her cigarette, didn't bother to notice the teenaged girls who promptly eyed her with hate and badly hidden jealousy as men shamelessly racked their eyes over her short stature. She did, however, notice the mother struggling with too many bags and a screaming toddler in a wobbly stroller.

Throwing down her smoke and grinding it to the ground with the heel of her boot, she casually stalked over to the pair, flipping long strands of brown curls over her shoulder. The woman looked up, hastily brushing aside frizzy hair and pushing aside too long sleeves; startling as she saw the unintentionally smoldering eyes, smiling nervously as the brunette walked up to her.

People watched, people stared but neither of the two noticed. The girl stopped in front of the woman, the smell of cigarettes and sweet perfume washing the air, a velvet voice coming out in a dazzling purr, "Did you need some help?"

Roaring laughter filled the air, gloved hands roughly gripping the steering wheel as full lips smiled a smile of pearly whites, "Did you see the looks on their faces?!"

The frizzy haired mother of two laughed uproariously, pulling out a small cigar and lighting it with a flick of her lighter. "Man, holy fuck, did you see that old lady? Shit, I thought she was going to have a heart attack when she found out that it was just blankets with a little speaker taped to that stroller."

The brunette grinned, bouncing in her seat as she watched from the corner of her eye as the other woman took off her wig, foot stepping harshly on the gas pedal. She grinned at the back of the truck, stroller wheels peeking slightly into the rear view mirror, adrenaline flooding through her veins as the other prowled on, "Seriously, Iz, my man. You have got to join these heists more often, your plans are fucking ingenious."

Isabella raked a slender hand through smooth tresses, grinning at her partner in crime, pointing her nose in the air, "My plans are perfection."

"Which is exactly why you should move in permanently with us," the now revealed blonde shook her head, wavy hair coming down to her shoulders, a package of makeup remover wipes now held in her hands. "I have no idea why you would never choose this life, oh Izzy dear."

"Living life stealing from innocent bystanders?"

"Yes, stealing from people. Picking pockets, being able to unlock that troublesome door with a flick of your wrist, you have the power. And I'm not saying that shit just so I can have a body next to me on my bed on those cold, lonely nights. You just went to the local grocery store and stole all that fucking money from all those cashiers and you emptied the huge fucking safe located in the back of the store. From under their noses, Isabella, you bypassed the security camera's, all the customers and workers. You finished in an hour, and you were waiting outside when the final stages of the plan were in action!"

Isabella smirked ruefully, "Life as the common thug?" She reached over, snatching the miniature cigar, rolling down the windows of the truck, ignoring the 'well fuck if you're going to have the windows open like that, at least slow down!' and sharply turning a left, unmindful as she exited the high way and the vehicle disappeared behind branches and leaves alike. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the 'mother' tore off the wig harshly, a slight snigger escaping her lips as the blond winced at the crudely applied makeup, "No thanks, sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, just know there's always some bed space available with me that has your name on it." The blond winked at the Swan, still wiping smudged makeup of from her disguise as a single mother. "I mean, like, you could make a brand new life over there for God's sake! People learn to fear you, they don't walk on the same side of the street alongside you, they shield their pockets with hands and purses and they don't even know your real face. You become invisible, the police have to look the other way, and your skills out on the street matches that of no other!"

"Sweetie, if you want me to sleep with you, you're gonna have to tell me your real name."

The blond stuck her tongue out, lips frowning slightly as she answered, "I don't think so my dear. No one knows my name and I wanna keep it that way."

"Come on, I need to at least know something to call you by."

"Just call me what the other guys at the HQ call me."

Raising an eyebrow, Isabella asked, "And that is?"

"Blondie."

Squawking, Isabella nearly choked on air. "How the hell do you expect me to call you something as unoriginal as 'blondie'?! If you dye your hair, what else am I supposed to call you? 'The Dye'? 'The Color Changer'?"

Snorting, 'blondie' started applying all kinds of makeup, perfecting her skin and ignoring the other as Isabella stopped in front of a large building. She did, however, take notice when Isabella started to dig into her purse, "And just what are you doing now?"

"Well, Blondie," the name was sneered from smiling lips, "I just happen to have ran out of my happy pills, so the beautiful house you see here is my dealers."

Pausing from applying her mascara, Blondie raised an eyebrow at the run-down shack, the grass a dead yellow in the moonlight, flowers ripped from its roots and laying on the dead grass. "Yeah, well, offer him the free advise of a fucking gardener, Jesus Christ."

"I'll be sure to tell him your winning words of charming him into your sheets, yes."

She made a move to climb out, before Blondie grabbed her wrist, stuffing a thick wad of cash into her hands, "Get me an ounce of weed, please."

Stepping out, she stuck her head in the still open window, gasping, "That is an outrage!" Pouting, she held up the wad of cash, "I know you have enough for one ounce for me too."

Carefully applying lipstick, she spoke after smacking her lips slightly, "Do whatever the fuck you want. I wanna get back to the HQ before two."

Grinning, Isabella skipped into the house, humming a tune only she knew.

"Fuck." A grunt, "You can't be fucking serious right now."

If finding the right fucking key becomes a daily olympic struggle and all I get is the bronze medal, I will swear not to fucking swallow pills like tic tacs in the next five days.

Grunting again, she looked closely at the key she was holding, squinting her eyes and murmuring encouraging words to it, "Come on sweetie, I know you can do it." Petting the key affectionately, she abruptly jammed it through the keyhole, crooning with triumph and kissing the key sweetly with an exaggerated loud smooch before opening the door.

Hesitantly, she glanced at her truck, eying the door attached to the house with a comfortable bed up the stairs, back to the cheap ford truck with the stale, chipping orange/red color, back again; before slumping against the door frame with a groan. She slowly walked to the hulking vehicle, shoulders slumped and eyes red from last nights events; and it wasn't until a car driving by in a frustratingly slow pace did she straighten her spine and look like the ever cold Isabella Swan. It was when the truck pulled into her driveway did she allow an angry sigh to escape her, securely locking the vehicles doors, stupid, if that damned Jacob Black can pick this up from absolute nowhere and make it 'function', then he sure as hell can make this baby purr like a tiger with an automatic lock.

Slamming the door shut, she didn't pay any notice to the stranger now getting out of the truck, instead just opting to walk right into the house. "Hey!"

I wonder when the next heist is going to be.

She ignored the hasty, fast footsteps coming up her driveway, knowing it would take a normal person more than a couple steps to land in her doorway. I think I should start planning over here in Forks, imagine the looks on their faces when-

A hand slammed the door back open before it fully closed, "I said, hey!"

Startled, she froze. Looking up, she sneered blurry face, eying the high cheekbones and chiselled face, "Well, I guess we're not fucking here, now are we?"

Firmly ramming the door shut, she locked the deadbolt and the chain, stomping her feet as she snarled, "Why aren't my fucking cheekbones that high?"

"Yeah, well," a hand brushed aside coarse, dry hair, "Jessica Stanley invited me to her slumber party for next week, and knowing her, it'll probably be the most fun since prom last year."

Confused, one of the freshmen crowding the eleventh grader stepped up timidly, hands fidgeting as a stuttered question passed through quivering lips, "W-wh-at h-happened la-ast year?"

Bemused, the freckle nosed junior stared down her pig-like nose at the small girl, before snorting unattractively and twirling a thick strand of frizzy hair between equally thick fingers with dirty fingernails. "Why, the biggest party of the year of course!"

Dreamily, her dull eyes stared dumbly at nothing for awhile, chubby hands slapping against flabby thighs, before finally, her thin lips formed words too fast for any of her crowd to follow.

Snorting quietly, Isabella took a drag of her cigarette, flinging long strands of hair out of her face before scrolling down on her text messages. She had long ago let her earphones lay on her shoulders, listening interestedly to the avid conversation before her. She smirked as that new girl told lie after lie, telling all first years of tales that didn't involve her, gossiping about people she knew nothing of, snorted as the girl sneered the name of a Bella Swan right in front of her.

"I heard that girl was so broken after her boyfriend died," the girl snapped, rolling her eyes and moving her jaw in furious motions as she chewed on a gum after snatching it from a nearby backpack. "I think that guy died in a car accident or something, but that Swan girl was devastated and didn't go out of her room for months."

She laughed then, unable to hold it in anymore. It was a bell-like sound, filled with bitterness and anger, full lips letting such sounds escape. The sound was followed by several pairs of eyes, mouths opening in silent warnings for the girl but no sounds coming out. Almost instantly all of her crowd recognized her, eying her tight clothes, silently judging the cigarette dangling in her fingertips. But the girl didn't see girl laying down on her truck, leaning her back on the windshield and leisurely taking drag after drag before idly throwing the smoke away. She yapped on, unaware of the crowd's slow footfalls retreating from the unfortunate looking girl, eyes closed as she exaggerated the story with avid hand gestures, "But Jessica told me the guy was a total hottie, and she didn't get why he was with her in the first place. But anyways, they were together for like, a year or whatever. That Swan girl was really-"

The bell rung, and when that new girl opened her eyes, all of her followers were gone, her cellphone was missing, and that wad of cash her mother gave her before she moved in with her uncle had mysteriously vanished.

Whistling, Isabella paid for the hamburger and fries, discreetly pulling another ten from a nearby girl with baggy pants who was next to her. Nonchalantly, she chewed on a fry and checked her text messages as the girl murmured a thanks to the man at the register before leaving with a bottle of coke.

Shrugging slightly when a subtle hand brushed her shoulder, she put her phone on the table before promptly digging into her hamburger. She pretended not to notice when she felt a light weight being added to her pocket.

When the stranger left with not ordering anything, she distracted the suspicious waiter with exaggerated gagging and cursing loudly over the noise of a closing door, "What the fuck?!"

Panicking, the waiter ran over, patting her on the back vigorously, "Are you okay?"

When the car with the unmistakeable purr didn't start outside, she continued, "Am I okay?! This hamburger tastes like shit!"

Stuttering, the cashier reeled back and cringed, "W-what do-o you me-mean?"

"It tastes like you just upped and took a giant turd on it, that's what I mean!" Hiding a smirk, she nastily continued, "I mean, what the fuck is that green spot on my hamburger? It sure as hell ain't fuckin' relish, that's for damn sure!"

Grumbling, she walked down the road at the diner, ignoring the scandalized looks the workers in there sent her way. After leaving a crying cashier, a pissed off boss and a shameful cook, her job here was done. By grossing out any eating customers, the boss went in there to calm things down, simultaneously yelling at a cook and consoling an angry, concerned parent, she made the perfect distraction while Blondie did her job using the back door willingly opened by a fellow cashier who stalked off in angry tears.

Half an hour later, she arrived at her wanted destination, after a long detour to the bookstore. She sighed contently as she slumped next to a stranger with limp, nearly dead hair. Setting her bag next on the bench, she said, "Your wigs are always a main part in your disguise. Why?"

She saw the stranger light up a smoke out of the corner of her eye, "Well, yeah, those buggy strings protruding from your skull kinda frames your face and defines any small feature. Along with the eyebrows," she waggled bushy looking eyebrows, her eyes nearly hidden with the shadows they appeared to make, "If you hide the eyebrows and the hair, even your fellow stalker won't recognize you with your characteristic appearance still loud and clear."

"Dude, I just smoked a fat joint on my way here," she said, rolling her eyes as the other carried on as if she hadn't spoke at all.

"There's a billion ways I learnt to hide myself in with just bronzer, an eyeliner and plastic wax." At Isabella's skeptically raised brow, she elaborated, rolling her eyes as if she was reciting the alphabet to a fully grown adult, "I define the features I want to stand out and hide what I don't want others to see. At first glance, I could look like a damn sexy woman, but on a closer look, people could mistake me as flaming homosexual dressed as that same sexy woman. Hiding a disguise under another disguise is vital."

"So, right now, what's the disguise under the disguise?"

The wolfish grin on the other was unsettling. She watched the other warily as she sat up, wriggling on the stone bench with an aura of utmost cruelty, "Oh, sweetie, you don't wanna look too close."

She whipped her head to the other direction, a tree suddenly her only focus point as she heard the other dig into her purse.

"It always has to be a different disguise each time, no matter how small the differences are." A half-smoked cigarette was thrust in her face, Blondie going on excitedly, "You never know if you encounter a cop with too much experience out in the field, or a supposed genius with a great memory who has seen you on a previous heist."

Briefly, she remembered the first time she had met Blondie, the other high on a drug only she knew. She had been mumbling nonsense then, her eyes dilated and her form shaking harshly as she mumbled sentences that could only be understood by her ears. Then, Isabella could only hear tiny snippets of the words tumbling out of the others mouth, "Wigs... Contour, my disguise... failed, she saw...what if. But-no... recognize? No."

Nodding slightly, she leaned forward, staring at the tree line ahead, refusing to look at the others disguised face, "So, you define the features you want others to see and hide what you don't want them to see."

"People only see what they want to see, either by ignorance or just plain hate at what could be hinted. They're willing to ignore anything suspicious if it fits into their ideal way of thinking."

Shrugging, the girl put her phone in her pocket, grabbing the plastic bag filled to the brim with books, "This shit's too confusing. I'm heading back to Forks, I actually have to be present to this last week of school."

Blondie had a cigarette in her mouth, she was rolling a joint while she stared incredulously at Isabella. "You serious? Didn't those pricks make you finish your exams yet?"

Wincing, she let go of the bag and grabbed the joint, lighting it up and harshly inhaling, "We already finished those, but the whole school's gonna be there for an extra week, choosing courses. Completely optional, you don't have to be present, but Charlie's been griping at me for not being home enough these days."

Snorting, Blondie made a grab for the joint, and when Isabella pointedly ignored her by taking a harsh drag, she said, "Charlie can suck my dick. You're 18, you can do whatever the fuck you want."

Humming, she nodded. "How much cash was there at that diner anyways?"

Blondie shook her head negative, lighting the weed quickly, "It was a fucking waste of time. Just a small fortune, not nearly enough. It can pay the HQ's food and bills, but it only pays me and you a $1,000 each. And remember that party we'll be hosting? After that, I'll presume we'll each only have about $700 left. Which isn't fucking much when you buy your fucking pills."

Pouting, Isabella poked her friend in the arm, "But your weed is expensive too."

"How much are you looking to save, anyways?"

Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes at the moon, "Probably about a hundred grand? I don't even know where I would want to go, but I want to have enough just in case other people's pockets aren't filled with my future riches."

Blondie let out a low whistle, "That'll take you at least a couple months, even with your skills. You live in a small town, don't let Seattle make you think otherwise."

"I know, but I'll be having to stay in Forks more often now, Charlie's starting to wonder where I go." She blew out a gust of air, handing the joint to the other, opting to change back to the previous topic, "But I'm looking for a big city when I finally move. I might not even leave Washington, if I find even a town with a lot of fucking rich people."

"Choose New York, the city that never sleeps." Here, Blondie sneered, taking a drag of her joint, "From what I see, you're an insomniac my dear."

"Not when I smoke this beautiful plant." At this, she leaned forward and took a long drag from Blondie's long-finger hold, staring blandly at Blondie for a few moments, before breaking out in a maniacal grin. She re-picked up her plastic bag, throwing the still blazing joint only God knows where. "If I wanna get back to Forks before sunrise, I should get going now."

"Say 'hi' to Mr. Mustache for me!"

When she got home, it was early morning and Charlie was sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee. She didn't bother to act sheepish and apologetic, ignoring the glare she was currently receiving, instead calmly taking off her shoes and skipping over into the kitchen, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek and a, "Hi Daddy!"

Immediately, she had to turn around, remembering her scent of booze and weed, and hiding her smirk as his eyes visibly softened and the hard edges around his mouth disappeared. Instead, she went to the fridge, grabbing the bread and popping some in the toaster.

"Where have you been?"

The gruff voice was ruined by the soft tone directed at his daughter, the undoubtedly previous luster there having been erased since the kiss on the cheek. She grabbed the jam and the butter, nearly skipping in small circles around the tiny kitchen. "Oh, you know, there and here. Hangin' and chillin' over there while I go over here."

She finished buttering her toast, adding jam to it now as she continued talking, "I remember I saw this homeless man and he kinda reminded me of you, no offense dad. He had the hair and the eyes," she sniggered, "he even had the weird caterpillar 'stache you have going on."

It worked as Charlie chuckled softly, walking up to her and ruffling her hair. She took a bite of her toast calmly as Charlie walked away and watched as he put his gun belt on. His questioning eyes were still on her, however and she scrambled for another subject, "I think I'm gonna make a huge breakfast for myself after you leave." Mischievous eyes twinkled, "I can finally go back on xbox live and beat that little shi-"

Charlie cleared his throat, "After my shift, I'll be going fishing with Billy and Harry for the weekend." At this, he stared down at her, not afraid to use his height as he towered over her, "And I don't want you to be staying here alone, so I just ask that you go over to Jake's for at least awhile."

"Who the hell's Jake?"

"Bells... He's the one who gave you your truck, and repaired your truck just two days ago."

Making an 'O' shape with her lips, Isabella made a big show of having a sudden epiphany, nodding along as Charlie continued, "I've known Jake since he was a newborn, and that boy has never showed a sign of being taller than 5'5, but holy jeez, that boy's gotta be as tall as the eiffel tower the last time I've seen him."

Rolling her eyes, she listening distractedly as she pulled a mug out of the ugly yellow-painted cupboards, pouring coffee in and casually putting in one teaspoon of sugar. She hummed slightly as Charlie continued to praise the Black boy, didn't pay attention as he prowled on, taking her distracted hums as a means to go on, "You know, he's a real nice boy, that Jacob. Real big though, would probably make you feel like a dwarf."

She capped the mug and walked up to Charlie, placing it in his hands and patting his cheek lightly while pushing him out the door as he continued talking, "Real sharp, too, been neglecting his studies lately, but seeing him work on anything metal is like watching-"

"Okay, dad, have a nice day at work now. Be sure to say hi to Officer Nicky for me, will you?"

"Sure thing, kiddo! But, really, Jake is such a good-"

"Seeya!" Slamming the door, Isabella hummed a tune as she skipped up the stairs to her room, unmindful as she heard a muffled 'hey!'. She grabbed a change of clothes, grabbing towels from the laundry room before dumping it on the counter and heading downstairs.

She scoffed lightly at herself; she forgot to lock the door, and if Charlie were to head back over here if he happened to forget something too, he'd throw a hissy fit about Isabella's apparent decision of throwing her safety out of the window. She smiled slightly as she noticed the TV was on, grabbing the remote and hitting the power button on the mute television. Before it was shut off, however, she caught sight of the headline 'bear attacks-' but didn't bother registering the rest.

She shrugged, brushing the matter off as the phone rung, looking around the living room for a bit before she found it on it's charger. Plucking it off, she answered, "Hello, hello! Dobby the house elf, what's your favorite sock color?"

A deep laugh was her response, "Is Charlie home?"

"Nope, nope, he left just about five minutes ago."

She listened keenly as the stranger paused, relaying the information to another man on the phone. She scrunched her nose, huffing slightly when bangs fell in front of her face.

"Okay, well," impatiently, she harshly brushed her hair back, jutting her hip slightly, "Can you just tell him Jacob called? His daughter's apparently supposed to visit and I just wanted to say that I'm free tonight."

"Oh."

She pouted, leaning against an imaginary wall and stumbling, "Well, Black, thanks for asking, but I suppose I can find an empty spot in my oh-so-busy schedule to watch over a mechanic."

A/N: and chapter one is done! this is the longest chapter i have ever written, even my stories are never this long (well, okay, they're about the same length). im going to be brutally honest, however, im not even thinking of where this would be going.. :o but if i do decide to continue this story, the cullens are going to be the first thing that goes in the trash. so sorry, not sorry. and also, if this is to go anywhere, it would be going to be a fer sure paul/bella story, i can assure you.

welp, see you guys whenever!