Tomboy101: Ok, please no one get mad at me. I know I should be working on The Nightingale's Song but I couldn't resist when this idea popped into my head. Tell me what you think and in exchange I will update my Nightingale story, I promise. Thanks!

I set the last of the boxes on the already cluttered kitchen table. Sweat rolled down my back and I let out a deep sigh. I'd forgotten how muggy the air could get here in La Push after five years away. In her second floor bedroom I could hear my seven year old daughter Alivia already unpacking her toys. I smiled. Regardless of the circumstances under which my baby girl was born I love Ali with everything I have. I'd gone to college after I graduated from the La Push Tribal School so I could give her a better life. Now at the age of twenty-three I've moved back to my small hometown to reopen the book shop I'd inherited from my grandparents when they'd died two years ago. It was called Ravenwing Books and situated on the main drag in La Push.

I sat down on one of the wooden chairs around the table and propped my cowboy booted feet up on another.

"Momma!" Ali yelled.

Well that peaceful moment didn't last long. I sighed and I set my feet back on the wooden floor with a thump. "Yeah baby?" I called as I walked over to the stairs.

"Momma can you come 'ere please?"

I smiled. "Coming sweetheart." I went up the stairs and took a left. The house was a small, compact two story cabin-style place with the first floor consisting of a living room, kitchen, study and half bath. The second floor was three bedrooms, two bathrooms. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall; the other two bedrooms let out into the hall across from the banister overlooking the living room and connected to each other by a bathroom. Ali's room was the one closest to the master bedroom. I walked up to the open door.

Ali sat in the middle of a pile of half empty cardboard boxes on the gray carpet floor, various toys and other such items scattered all around her. Next to her, not looking all that thrilled, was our brindle pitbull-boxer mix. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Ali had fitted Trix with a hot pink ribbon around her neck and our loyal dog had let her. Quickly I fished my camera out of my back pocket, held it up, and snapped a picture. I've always taken pictures of anything and everything Ali does; I don't want to miss a thing.

Ali made a face at me. Her mahogany hair was pulled back into a waist length braid and the fringe over her forehead fell into her expressive hazel eyes. She takes after me in the looks department with her high cheekbones, full lips, and caramel skin, classic Native American, which is good. I don't know what her rapist of a biological father looks like and I really don't want to. "Momma!" She groaned.

"Alivia!" I mimicked. Ali glared. I laughed. "What's up buttercup?"

Ali quickly got over her irritation and pointed gleefully at Trix. "Look Mamma! Don't Trix look pretty?"

"Doesn't," I corrected automatically.

Ali rolled her eyes. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

I entered the room, smiling at Ali. "Trix looks gorgeous," I said as I sat down Indian style next to our dog. Trix stuck her big head in my face and licked my cheek, and not the sweet dainty lick dogs on TV give, oh no. Her fat pink tongue got me from chin to temple with copious amounts of slobber included. "Oh yuck, Trix!"

Trix grinned at me, lips pulled pack and tongue lolling out happily. I wiped most of the slobber away with the long sleeve shirt as my traitorous daughter giggled madly at my misfortune. I shot her a look and her eyes went wide. "No Mamma!" she squealed trying desperately to scoot away. "Don't—" Too late. I pounced.

Ali squealed and giggled, trying in vain to wriggle and squirm out of my clutches as I tickled her mercilessly. Between peals of laughter she managed to shout, "Trix! Help!" Instantly Trix jumped to her feet and barreled her way between us, using her wide shoulders and surprising strength to push me back. Planting herself firmly between Ali and me she wagged her tail nervously. I laughed. Typical Ali, use poor Trix for defense.

"Alright big girl," I said, holding my hands up in peace, "alright."

Trix woofed and grinned her doggy grin. Ever since we had brought Trix home from the shelter as a one-year-old two years ago she had been protecting Ali. It was amazing. I hadn't even had to train her to protect my daughter she just did. When Ali was home Trix couldn't be pulled from her side for anything which was a great comfort to me.

Ali hugged Trix. "Good Trixy," she crooned as she rubbed Trix's ears.

I shook my head and looked around the room. Ali's walls had been painted lavender per her request and her furniture had been set up by the movers last week, all she had left to do was put her clothes and toys away—which had yet to happen. I frowned at my daughter. "Ali," I said. Ali looked up at me with big, innocent hazel eyes. She knew that tone and thought if she turned up the cute I'd be less irritated. Not gonna work this time, sorry kiddo. "I thought you were supposed to be putting all your stuff away, not playing with your toys."

Ali quickly averted her eyes. "Sorry Mamma," she muttered.

"It's alright, honey, just get it done then we can go out to dinner, okay?"

Ali's head shot up. "Dinner?"

I nodded. "Yep," I said, popping the 'p'. "There's a diner in town and they serve Mac n' Cheese and chocolate shakes and French fries…"

I don't think I've ever seen Ali move so fast. One minute she was hugging Trix, the next she was dashing around her room stuffing things into drawers. Trix watched her, turning her head this way and that to keep Ali in her sights. I smiled and shook my head. "Let me know when you're done," I called over my shoulder as I exited her room.

"Yes Mamma!"

Still smiling I went back downstairs to the kitchen. The majority of our worldly possessions had already been properly placed in our new house. The kitchen was organized, our massive DVD collection was already in the glass door case by the TV, and the other such knick knacks we'd collected over the years were already set out. The only thing left to do downstairs was hang up pictures, organize the kitchen, go shopping for groceries to fill our fridge—something I intended to do tomorrow—and haul the last box of my clothes up to the master bedroom. I grabbed the box I had set down earlier and took it upstairs. As I passed Ali's room I peeked in. She didn't seem to have lost any steam as she continued to unpack but Trix had gotten out of her way by jumping up onto her bed. I shook my head and went to my own room.

My room had the same gray carpet as Ali's but the walls were white. My bed was a king made out of dark red wood covered in a sky blue comforter. A chest of drawers and a bookcase, both made of the same dark red wood, were pushed up against the wall on either side of a large curtain covered window and on the opposite wall a marble topped vanity area had been built into the wall next to a good sized walk-in closet with more room than I actually needed. On the other side of the vanity was another white door that lead to the bathroom. This bedroom was bigger than the room I'd had while I was going to school, a lot bigger. Back then Ali and I had lived in a small two-bedroom apartment. Now we had an entire house all to ourselves. I mean, it wasn't as spacious as the house I had grown up in with my grandparents but we had an extra bedroom in case we had guests! Not to mention Ali would go to the Tribal School starting Monday—it was now Saturday—where she wouldn't be made fun of for being the only Native kid in a hundred mile radius. Needless to say I was all kinds of excited.

I set my box down next to four others at the foot of my bed and started in on unpacking all my junk. It was mostly clothes, accessories and other such fashion items, including make-up, with a few framed pictures and a lot of books. The clothes went in the closet and drawers; my accessories and make-up went to the built-in vanity, I'd organize it later; I hung or set the pictures out; and the books filled my bookcase.

Two hours later I was almost done when Ali came running into my room, followed by a barking Trix. "Done!" she yelled.

I was crouched next to one of my boxes and had turned on my heels when she came in only to be caught completely by surprise when I was suddenly knocked over. Ali sat triumphantly on my stomach and beamed down at me. "Gotcha!" she cried. Trix pranced around us whining.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

I reached up and poked Ali's ribs. She squeaked and squirmed away. "Hey! No fair! I got you!" She poked me back which made me squirm. Yes, we are both very ticklish.

"Alright, alright," I held my hands up in surrender, "you got me."

Ali grinned.

"So you're all done unpacking?"

"Ah huh."

"You sure?"

Ali nodded.

"I guess you want food then?"

Ali nodded again. "Mac n' Cheese and a chocolate shake and French fries!"

"Well if we're going into town you need to get off me and get changed into some clean clothes."

Ali quickly scrambled off me. I sat up with a grunt. "Go on," I said, "go get changed and I'll meet you downstairs."

I watched Ali run out of my room before getting up and rooting around in my newly organized drawers for a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. I grabbed out a pair of dark jeans with white double stitching, a black lace-edged tank top and a blue and white flannel shirt.

As I dressed my mind drifted back to the last time I'd been in La Push. It had been four or five years ago back when the Pack had just started growing. Oh yeah, all the Quileute legends about being descended from wolves were true and so were the ones about the treaty with a coven of Vampires. It was a closely guarded secret in the tribe, only the wolves, their Imprints, and the Elder Council knew. The only reason I was privy to such a big secret was at the time the boys started phasing I was in training to eventually take over my grandfather's position as Medicine Man, only I would have been the Medicine Woman. Of course, I was eighteen at the time, getting ready to go to college—no, my grandfather was not happy about that but as I was of legal age there wasn't shit he could do to stop me, especially since I'd just come into the trust my parents had set up for me before they died—and the mother of a two-year-old. With all that insanity going on I wanted nowhere near all the danger. Not to mention that whole Imprint situation. Granddad had told me about Claire, the two-year-old Imprinted on by Quil Ateara. No offence to Quil, I'm sure he's a really nice guy, but I'm selfish and didn't want to run the risk of some wolf Imprinting on my daughter, or me for that matter. I wanted both of us to enjoy life before we settled down with some wolfy wall of muscle.

As soon as my senior year of high school had ended I'd moved Ali and myself down south to Baton Rouge, Louisiana so I could attend Louisiana State University, go Tigers, yay (please note the sarcasm). Granddad and I had this big knock-down, drag out fight over the move. It was an entire year before we spoke again and even then I hadn't come back to La Push, my grandparents had visited me.

Now I was back and I couldn't decide if I was entirely happy with that turn of events. I mean, I wanted to take over Ravenwing Books—I loved that shop—but I was worried. One of the last times I had spoken to my grandmother she had assured me the Vampire threat was gone save for the occasional one passing through but still…

"Mom! Hurry up!"

I jolted from my musings and scrambled to my feet. "I'm coming!"

I checked myself over in the vanity mirror. By the white man's standards I'm exotic but, really, I'm very simple when it comes to Native Americans. I have mocha brown skin, high cheekbones, full lips, and a round face. The only non-Native things about me—the slight curl to my hip length mahogany hair and hint of green to my otherwise unremarkable brown eyes—I got from my Romani mother. I stand about five feet four inches tall and have hourglass curves I'm very proud of. After having Alivia my stomach isn't as flat as before but I don't mind, just more of me to love. After I made sure I looked at least semi-decent I shoved my feet into a pair of gray converse and went downstairs.

I found Ali sitting on the floor in front of the large 60" plasma TV hanging on the wall in the living room playing tug-of-war with Trix. Dressed in a pair of jeans, a purple shirt and sneakers she looked ready to go. "Where's your sweatshirt?" I asked.

"Car."

"Alright then. Let's go."

Trix dropped her rope toy, ears perking up as she looked at me hopefully. "Oh no, big girl," I apologized, petting her ears. "We'll go later, I promise."

Trix hmphed at me and jumped up on the blue leather couch. She obviously wasn't pleased with me.

"I don't think Trix likes that excuse Mamma," Ali teased.

"Yeah, yeah. Get in the car."

Ali flashed me a grin. I followed her outside, grabbing my off-brand black faux leather purse off the hook by the door. I locked the backdoor then clicked the unlock button on my key fob for the car. Ali scrambled up into the cab of our white 2001 Ford F150 4X4 given to me for my sixteenth birthday. I followed her lead, started up the truck and we were off.

The unpaved road into the tiny town on the La Push Reservation was muddy from the most recent rain. We bumped along for fifteen minutes, singing loudly along with the old country radio station. When we got to the main drag I pulled into the parking lot of La Push Diner and parked out front next to several other beat up cars and trucks.

The diner was a small, old fashioned place. The front was solid windows with a neon green open sign blinking in the door. Inside was a plastic topped counter with barstools and vinyl booths. A few people who looked familiar but I couldn't for the life of remember their names sat eating in the booths. A lit up jukebox was pushed into a corner and I assumed it was playing music.

Ali skipped up to the door and pushed it open. Above her head a little bell dinged. The smell of good, homemade food flooded my nose and Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line" floated to my ears.

I followed Ali over the counter and sat next to her on a barstool. She grabbed one of the plastic encased menus and looked at it seriously. After a minute she set her menu down. "I want Mac N' Cheese," she said, looking at me.

"I want a cheeseburger," I told her.

"With French fries?" she asked. I nodded. "Good," she said. I knew she was planning on stealing my fries and dipping them into her Mac N' Cheese.

I pulled a deck of cards out my purse and held them up to her. "Go Fish?" I suggested. She nodded and I dealt the cards.

We had just started our game when a young woman walked up to us from behind the counter. She was younger than me by a few years, roughly nineteen or twenty, and dressed in a pale yellow waitress outfit. She held a notepad in one hand, a pencil in the other. The nametag pinned to her collar read 'Kim'.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, "my name's Kim and I'll be your server. What can I get you to drink?"

I looked up and returned her smile. "Hi," I said. "We'll have two waters, please, and the munchkin will have a bowl of Mac n' Cheese and I'd like a cheeseburger with French fries."

"Will that be all?"

I glanced at Ali. She nodded and went back to studying her cards. "For now," I said looking back at Kim with a smile.

"Alright," she said. "That'll be out in a minute."

"Thanks."

"You know," she said after a beat, "you look really familiar but I haven't seen you in here before I don't think."

I shrugged. "We just moved back," I explained. "We've been gone for a couple of years but now that I've finished college I'm back to take over my grandparent's business."

"What business?" Kim wanted to know.

"Ravenwing Books," I said.

Kim blinked then her eyes went wide. "Dakota?" she breathed.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said sheepishly.

"Kota, it's me, Kim."

Now it was my turn to stare. Last time I had seen Kim Porter she was a gangly little sophomore. I'd tutored her in Geometry my senior year. She was one of those extremely sweet but very shy girls more comfortable with homework than people. We'd gotten along really well and in exchange for my tutelage I'd gotten her to watch Ali every once in a while. "Kim?"

Kim nodded happily.

"Oh my gosh! Kim you look great. How long has it been?"

"Five years," Kim said happily.

"That long? Wow!" I turned to Ali. "Alivia," I said, "this is my old friend Kim Porter; she used to babysit you when you were little."

Ali smiled up at Kim. "Hi," she said with a grin.

Kim smiled back. "Hi," she said. "You've gotten so big, Ali. And you're so pretty, just like your mom." Kim smiled at me and I blushed. "Well, I've got to get your order in but you and I have to catch up soon."

I nodded. "Definitely. You have to tell me all the local gossip."

"Sounds great." Kim ripped a bit of paper form her notepad and scribbled some numbers down. "Call me and we'll grab lunch," she said handing me the paper.

"Will do." I tucked the phone number into my pocket. Kim smiled at us one more time and walked into the kitchen.

Ali looked at me curiously. "Who was that?"

I shook my head. "That was Kim. Like I said, she used to babysit you sometimes. I tutored her in Geometry."

"Geometry?"

"Math with shapes," I clarified.

"Oh. She seemed nice."

"Kim is very nice."

"Are you going to have lunch with her?"

I looked back to where Kim had disappeared. I couldn't put my finger on it but there had been something different about her, something not quite normal. "Probably," I said.

Kimberly Anne Porter ran into the Uley residence screaming at the top of her lungs for Paul Lahote. Jared Cameron, her Imprint, boyfriend, and one-day husband, jumped to his feet. "Kim!" He cried, running to her side. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Where's Paul?!"

"I'm right here!"

Kim whirled. A tall man, way over six feet, exited the bathroom off the living room. His soft black hair was cut short and his chocolate eyes were wide with curiosity as he looked at Kim.

"She's back!"

"What?" Paul asked. "Who's back? Kim talk slower."

Kim took a deep breath but the flush on her tan cheeks and sparkle in her brown eyes didn't fade. "You'll never guess who I just ran into at the diner. Dakota Ravenwing! She just moved back to take over Ravenwing Books!"

Every creature in the house froze. Even the annoying mosquitoes stopped buzzing. Jared didn't even dare to breathe. Dakota Ravenwing. Everyone in the pack knew the story. Damn that bitch, Jared thought furiously. Their Graduation Day, as she's crossing the stage, Paul looks into her eyes for the first time ever and he Imprints. He tries to find her after the ceremony but can't so he goes to her house the next day only to learn from her grandfather that she and her two-year-old daughter are gone and he doesn't know exactly where. Cue a heart broken Paul. Granted it was only a half Imprint because the girl was completely oblivious to the bond but still, Paul hadn't been the same. The assurances of Dakota's grandparents that she would come back were only comforting because Mitchell Ravenwing had the Sight, one of his gifts as the tribe's Medicine Man.

So Paul dealt with the pain and after a few years, in combination with all the drama with the Cullens, he had managed to forget, sort of. Sure there were occasional bouts of moodiness and the irrationally short temper but he had gotten better...

"Paul," Jared said as calmly as he could, "just take a deep breath."

But Paul was nowhere near even the idea of calm. He was shaking all over, muscles rippling beneath his skin. "Kim, go to the kitchen," Jared said, attention focused on Paul.

Kim didn't hesitate. She wasn't stupid and while scars worked for Emily she seriously doubted she could pull them off. Jared grabbed Paul by the arm and dragged his fellow wolf-man outside, only relinquishing his grip when they were a safe distance from the little yellow house.

Paul hadn't stopped shaking since Kim said Dakota's name. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated. Jared took several hasty steps back as Paul's body began to contort, shift, and change. There was a loud ripping noise and shreds of cloth that had once been Paul's khaki shorts floated down to the ground like snow.

Before Jared could phase too Paul turned his fluffy dark gray tail and bolted into the woods. Jared stared after him, lost at what to do. In the distance a wolf howled.