A/N: My beautiful beta babes are RaindropSoup and mcc101180. They fix my comma splices, dialog tags, and say lovely things that talk me down from the edge. My perfect prereader princesses are TwiSNFan and Louisemc86. They give me giggles in google docs and titillate me on twitter. My readers and reviewers rock my world.

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. The Bulldozer owns me.

Chapter 4

Savage - a climb that has given you great satisfaction and you are very proud of.

Previously...

"If you don't mind, boys." I eyeball Edward from head to toe, and back up again. "I've got another mediocre boulder to knock off."

Edward's eyebrows briefly shoot into his copper-bronze hair, before settling at a normal height and narrowing.

"Excuse me?" he splutters. "Mediocre?"

From the doorway, Emmett laughs. I smile triumphantly.

Oh yes, Mister. Game on.

I was looking for a reaction. I think I got one.

Jade eyes flash at me, and his jaw sets. I've hit a nerve.

Ignoring the other two people in the cave and placing my feet on the starting holds, I concentrate on nothing but the feel of the plastic in my hands, the footholds beneath the grippy rubber of my shoes, and the next move.

Starting at the beginning, I make my way around to the layback easily. Now that I know what I need to do, the move comes easily. I let my body swing and call on all of my muscles to propel me to the hold that caused the problems to start with. With my feet locked and my hands gripping, I look over my shoulder—Emmett is sitting on the floor of the cave and is eating a packet of chips while he watches with interest. Edward stands in the middle of the cave with his arms crossed and gaze steely.

With a wink at the Bulldozer, I release one hand. I reach back behind me and into my chalk bag. Re-gripping, I repeat with the other hand. Dusting the excess chalk off on my hip, I stretch for the next move. It's a relatively easy one and allows me to move on quickly.

At the two-third point, I'm really starting to feel the burn in my hands and calf muscles. The sweat builds between my shoulder blades, and I do my best to ignore the fire in my forearms.

I will not show that I'm starting to struggle.

Edward has moved back to the doorway, leaning against the frame, while Emmett sits at his feet. He's still munching noisily on his chips.

I can hear them speaking, but I pay no attention to what they're saying. I need to keep my focus.

I think I've figured out how Edward prefers to set his routes now. It's a stretch if you're tall, but not impossible. For someone like me, of somewhat-limited height, it's different. I need to apply a bit of lateral thinking.

Although my reach isn't great, I can hold on for ages. I do enough running that my thighs and calves allow to get me a fair amount of propulsion, and the time spent here over the last few weeks has served me well.

To my further advantage—here, in the cave, I have no fear. There are plenty of mats below me, so falling isn't going to hurt. My pride might be though; I just need to make sure I don't embarrass myself.

Have faith in yourself, Swan.

I've got two moves to go. I look for the next one and again, its way out of my reach. I'd need to be at full extension on both my right arm and leg to get it. I settle into the relatively comfortable position I'm in and re-chalk my hands, one at a time. I need to think.

I'm aware of two pairs of eyes still on me. Over my shoulder, I hear a low chuckle.

"You seem to be having a few problems there," the cocky voice over my shoulder points out.

"No shit," I mutter under my breath.

"You know," starts Emmett, seemingly through a mouthful of chips. "If you just switch feet—"

"No helping." The Bulldozer cuts him off. "If the route is so—what was it—mediocre, she doesn't need any help, does she?" His voice is full of over-the-top confidence. We're talking beyond cocky now. He's bordering on impertinent.

That provides the incentive I need. There is no way I'm letting this fucker—the wall or the man—get the better of me.

I place my weight on my right foot. If I nail this, it'll look fucking awesome. If I don't, well...I'm going to eat mat. Hard.

I switch the angle on my right foot so the outside of my ankle is pressing into the wall. Plastering a look of absolute determination on my face, I give the wall an almighty shove with my left hand and left foot at the same time. My body swings like a barn door, and using my right foot as a pivot point, I whip my head to look over my left shoulder, spotting the next handhold. My back hits the wall with a thud, and I snatch at the green piece of plastic almost blindly. I lock my left foot onto a foothold, and I'm now at full-stretch, my legs spread at a rather unladylike angle.

Gripping on to the wall with all I'm worth, I hold on and face my audience, my chest heaving.

Edward's eyes widen, and I swear his perfect jaw hits the floor. Emmett chokes on his chips.

I grin.

Pulling myself up and stepping easily up onto the next hold, I turn back to face the wall. I make the next few moves easily. Reaching the last handhold, I slap it with my hand with everything I've got, complete the route, and hop daintily to the floor.

Emmett swears.

Edward says nothing.

I brush my hands off on my leggings, my legs trembling. My hands feel so weak that I'm sure I wouldn't be able to hold a glass of water right now.

I can't interpret the look on Edward's face right now. He's still staring at me, his green eyes blazing. Without a word, I retrieve my iPod from the dock. I walk toward the doorway where the route list is stuck to the wall, my shoulder brushing against Edward along the way. I look again at the information provided:

A Lick Of A Wrist - B3

Route setter: E. Cullen.

First:

Oh, now I get it.

I pick up the Sharpie marker that is tied to the wall next to the paper. With a shaky hand, I scrawl my first name next to First.

I turn to face Edward and Emmett, who has risen to his feet and is now standing next to the route setter.

"A lick of a wrist," I remark dryly with an arched eyebrow. "Really?"

Edward, again, says nothing.

"Well...here's a flick of mine."

Flouncing out the doorway, I reach my hand up, over my shoulder, and flip him off. As I walk toward the stairs, I hear Emmett say, "told you she was badass."

It's not until I'm back in my truck, heart pounding, that I realize I concentrated more on getting out of there than changing out of my climbing shoes.

-~[YD]~-

I'm typing away at my hot desk in the Seattle Times office when a familiar voice calls over the partition. "Bella, do you have lunch plans?"

I smile as I finish the sentence I'm typing. Alice has, by this time, appeared in front of my desk. I'm back on our regular schedule of Monday morning meetings. James wasn't in today, which, to be quite honest, I'm somewhat relieved of. The guy gives me the creeps—and the last meeting with him was just plain awkward.

"Nothing set in stone, Alice. I was just going to grab something at the deli downstairs."

"Japanese?" she asks, hefting her super-sized designer bag over her shoulder.

I nod enthusiastically before picking up my own, less-ostentatiously sized bag and follow her rapid-fire heels toward the elevator. We wave at the Facebook-fascinated receptionist, Gianna, on our way through—she doesn't even notice we're there. I have no idea how that girl still has a job.

Reaching the shiny elevator, Alice daintily presses the down button before inspecting her makeup in the polished reflection of the doors.

After being seated at a comfortable table for two and ordering lunch, Alice opens her bag to bring out a tablet. Tapping on the screen, she brings up a website and turns it to face me. A large mountain cabin is the main image on the screen.

"I've found it!" she proclaims cheerfully. "Accommodations for our trip! Isn't it fabulous?"

The web page definitely looks impressive. The image of the cabin slowly morphs into rolling pictures of scenery, people wandering along trails, happy couples canoeing on a river, and softly falling snow.

It isn't what I'm used to on my low-budget, low-key trips, but I have to admit—it looks amazing.

"Alice, it looks beautiful," I tell her, "but there's no way I can afford something like that."

"Aha, my dear, penny-conscious friend," Alice replies with a tap on the side of her nose. "It's all taken care of."

"I can't ask you to—"

"You didn't," she says, cutting me off. "And besides, Seattle Times is taking care of it." I look at her blankly.

"You're writing an article, right?" I nod. "Yes, well, the lodge was only too happy to provide a discounted rate. So, Tanya is picking up the tab."

I blink. To be honest, I hadn't considered approaching Tanya to have the Times pay for accommodations, especially for my friends and me. When I did freelance, I always paid for my lodging out of my commission. But, seeing that I'm no longer working on commission...well, I suppose it makes sense.

I smile across at Alice, popping a piece of sashimi into my mouth. "You've got a deal, then," I tell her.

"Fantastic!" She claps her hands and jiggles in her chair. I swear, if I could bottle her energy, I could sell it for a fortune. "It'll easily fit all of us. It has four bedrooms, a jacuzzi, open fireplace, gorgeous kitchen, amazing views..."

I have to admit, it does sound pretty nice. The weather is starting to cool, so it would be a welcome relief to not spend a few nights on the ground. Even though I have great equipment, I'm rather looking forward to "roughing it" in style.

We spend the rest of lunch generally catching up and sipping tea. Alice tells me about the small, independent boutique downtown that wants to sell some of her clothing. She's been designing like a mad-woman, but she tells me she has some awesome results.

"Speaking of which, I have a few things for you. I'll bring them into the gym on Thursday night."

"You don't have to give me clothes, Alice."

"Nonsense," she says, waving me off. "You've got, like, the perfect physique. Athletic, curvy, but toned. You'd be like a walking advertisement for me."

Her logic astounds me, but then again, Alice usually baffles me. Glancing quickly at my watch, I realize I should get back to the office. After paying, we stand out in front of the restaurant. Alice gestures toward the opposite direction.

"I've gotta head downtown," she tells me. "I've got to meet a photographer for a fashion spread we're doing. We're using the Seattle skyline as a backdrop. It's going to be great. I'll email you the details for the cabin, OK?"

I give her a little wave before heading back to the office. I'll get in a few more hours before heading to the gym for a boulder. I'm still feeling freaking awesome about nailing the new green one—particularly in front of the cocky, incredibly good-looking route setter.

Last week, I skipped my usual Monday night boulder, the day after my epic badassness on that stupidly-named new green route. Truth be told—I could barely fucking walk.

I was so very, very glad that I had no reason to be in the office because, to be completely honest, a few hours on that route had killed me. I'd soaked myself in bath salts to try and ease the burning ache in my muscles on both Sunday and Monday. I'd attempted a run, before making it less than halfway on my usual path and having to turn around to go back home with my tail between my shaking, painful legs.

By the time Thursday rolled around, I was able to walk again without a noticeable limp. This, I considered a success, given my state earlier in the week. I still didn't try anything too extreme, though. I'd also politely declined Jasper's speed-climbing challenge.

A quiet weekend that included some cleaning, a few long-overdue emails to Renee and Charlie, a run around the new park Alec had told me about, and a well-earned solo movie night gave me all the recuperation I needed to feel good for this week.

Today, I feel great. I just have a few more hours in the office before going for a quick boulder in the gym. Then it's home nice and early for dinner, hot tea, and a night of trashy TV.

Tanya's office door is ajar. I'm about to knock when I hear raised voices. Well, only one raised voice. And she sounds severely pissed.

"I don't care, James. Those meetings are non-negotiable, unless you're out in the field...You know damn well what the rules are...No, that's crap. You know it...Yes, I know who your father is...Yes, I know who you are, too...Fine. Whatever. Just make sure you're here tomorrow at nine."

Sensing that the heated conversation is over, I knock gently on the door. Tanya sounds defeated when she calls in a soft, muffled voice, "Come in."

I poke my head around the corner of the slightly-open door. "Is now not a good time?" I ask quietly. She waves her hand.

"No, Bella, of course it's fine. What can I do for you, hon?" Tanya smiles weakly. This is not the strong woman I'm used to.

"I just wanted to run this by you," I tell her as I push a piece of paper across the desk. She motions for me to sit, and I settle into one of the two comfortable arm chairs facing her desk. "It's the schedule for the trip I have planned."

"Of course," Tanya says, her voice lighter. "It looks great. I've asked the lodge to invoice us. Of course, the Times will cover the cabin. We just request that your group picks up the tab for food and any incidentals."

"Okay," I reply. "We're going to, hopefully, use one of the local guide groups for the practical stuff. I've had replies from most of them, and there's only one that hasn't gotten back to me. Unfortunately, they're all busy. I'm hoping Quake Outdoors will be available. If not, no matter. I'll lead the program myself."

I was really hoping not to have to do that. The guide providers had stuff I didn't: insurance, easy access to med-evac, and equipment. While I had no qualms heading out by myself into the wilderness, I wasn't comfortable leading a group of four others whose experience I couldn't be perfectly sure of.

Tanya slides her reading glasses down her nose, before standing and handing my paper back to me. I skim it as she speaks. "It looks great, Bella. I'm sure the six of you will have a blast. I'm looking forward to reading the article. If it goes well, we might be able to stretch the concept to a wider scope."

Pleased with by her praise, I smile and walk toward the door. With one hand on the door handle, I turn to face my boss. She is rubbing her temples with her lavender-colored fingertips. "Are you okay, Tan?"

Tanya takes a deep breath before letting it out. "I'll be fine, Bella. It's just, when I signed up for this, when I was younger, I did it because I loved the water, you know?" I nod in understanding. For me, it's the same concept with a different element. She shakes her head, as if to rid the thoughts from underneath her strawberry blonde hair. "Just promise me something. Don't let any assholes take advantage of you, okay?"

I give her a grim smile as I walk through the door, closing it gently behind me.

-~[YD]~-

I'm still in the process of tying together some loose ends for the trip in a few weeks, and I've left my number and a message with a few climbing and hiking tour providers on the Olympic Peninsula.

I'm making myself a coffee, one Wednesday afternoon, when my phone rings. Picking it up and tapping the green button before thinking, I don't recognize the Washington number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Bella?" The deep, husky voice is one I have not heard in years. Hearing it again lightens my heart and takes me back to happy times. Times where I was truly loved for who I was. This is a voice that sounds like home.

"Jacob?"

"Holy shit, Bells! Are you the chick from the Times?" Jacob's voice booms through the phone. I hold the handset away from my ear as I laugh.

"Yes, Jake, that'd be me. Why are you calling? How did you get my number?"

I can almost hear the boy who was my best friend in high school roll his eyes. "You called me, Swan." He pauses. "It's still Swan, isn't it? I mean, you're not married?"

"It's still Swan..." I laugh bitterly. "What do you mean I called you?"

"Quake Outdoors ring any bells, Bells?"

Realization hits me. "Quake is you?"

"Well, not all me," he replies modestly. "My buddy Quil, too. We started up a couple of years ago, mostly taking tourists on short walks and stuff. We're much bigger now, though. We do overnighters with school groups, take university groups climbing, and some canoeing and stuff." He sounds incredibly proud.

"That's fantastic, Jake!" I enthuse. "So, is it just you and Quil, or do you have help?"

"We've got four of us on permanently—me, Quil, his girlfriend Claire, and our other buddy, Embry. Remember him?" I murmur in the affirmative. "Anyway, we employ seasonal staff for when we're really busy or for big accounts like school groups or corporate escapes. Otherwise, it's just the four of us."

I'm in awe. I haven't seen Jake since I left Forks for college. At the time, he was always getting into trouble. His dad, Billy, had been Chief of the tribe at La Push. Sadly, he'd died during my senior year. Jake was still a junior at the time. My dad had told me that Jake almost didn't graduate. Thankfully, his sisters made him pull his head out of his butt and get his high school diploma. After that, last I heard, he'd packed up his truck and headed east.

"We have so much to catch up on, Jake. It's been such a long time. I can't believe Charlie didn't tell me you were back." I made a note to bring that up with my dad the next time I spoke to him.

"From your message, it sounds like that'll be soon." His voice softens. "I've really missed you, Bells."

I close my eyes. "I've missed you too, Jake."

We chat a while longer about the activities our group could do while we're there. Jake tells me that we can bring our own gear if we have it, but they'll supply big stuff like canoes and kayaks if we'd like to hit the water. I'm not sure how well that will go down with Alice. I tell him I'll let him know the activities we'd like to do closer to the date.

As we hang up, I flop back onto the couch, my heart aching a little. I've really missed my best friend.

-~[YD]~-

Thursday night, I stroll into the gym with a spring in my step. I'm still buoyed by the conversation with Jake, and I'm incredibly excited about the upcoming trip. It's a chance to be back close to home and enjoy some time with my friends—new and old.

"Chalky!" I smile at the familiar greeting as Emmett walks out from behind the counter to give me a bear hug. He lifts me off the ground in the process, and I laugh freely. "You seem happy. What's got you all bushy-tailed? Is it a guy?"

I roll my eyes. "Honestly, Emmett, you're worse than a girl." He snorts at me. "It is a guy, but not what you think. I found out yesterday that our main guide is going to be my old best friend from home."

"Small world!" he responds. "I'm really looking forward to this trip. It's going to be awesome!" He offers me a big fist, which I bump in return.

"Are the others here yet?" I look around for my friends.

Emmett shakes his head. "Rose has a few more clients. She should be done in an hour. Alice and Jasper are on their way, though. Jas just texted me. Just you and me for now!" He throws a big arm around me.

All of my Seattle friends are really affectionate. It must be the cold weather—it was much too hot to hug back in Arizona.

"Climb or boulder?" I ask.

"Climb, for sure," he says. "Besides, you—bouldering? Yeah, too distracting." He waggles his eyebrows.

I hit him playfully on the arm. We haven't spoken again of my bouldering efforts from last week. Nor have we spoken of my somewhat inappropriate parting gesture, although I suspect that it's simmering below the surface. Knowing Emmett, he's waiting for his moment.

We have a bit of a play on some of the longer routes on the ground floor. As I'm hovering above the mezzanine level, chalking my hands and planning my next move, I look across the expanse of the warehouse. I love being up this high. I think back to when I started climbing.

Jake, Quil, Embry and I used to do some bouldering and rock scrambling around the cliffs at La Push beach. Looking back, it was probably pretty dangerous. At the time, we thought we were invincible.

It was when some of the older boys from the Res began really showing us the ropes—pun intended—that we started to have fun with it. After time, we graduated to top-rope and then to traditional climbing. We mostly borrowed cams, nuts, hexes, and other protection devices from the older boys. They taught us not to kill ourselves.

When we'd started top-roping, I'd told them I was afraid of heights. Sam, one of the older guys, explained to me that the height wasn't the thing to be feared. Being up so high isn't a problem—it's when you fall that things got ugly. So, my fear wasn't a fear of heights—it was a fear of falling. As long as my gear was well placed and I didn't take stupid risks, I'd be safe. It made complete sense to me. Total lightbulb moment.

I'd used that philosophy many times since—in both climbing and in life.

From below, I hear Alice's voice call to me, shaking me from my daydream. "I'll be down in just a minute!" I call back.

I finish the climb in a few more moves, tap the bar at the top, and call to Emmett. "Dirt me!"

Emmett obliges, lowering me to the ground.

After unclipping my harness, I turn to Alice, who gives me a hug. "Hi, Jasper."

Jasper greets me in return, tightening his own harness. "Where's my crazy sister?" he asks.

Emmett opens his mouth to respond, when Rosalie appears beside him. "Have some respect for your elders," she says, ruffling Jasper's hair. He scowls at her. I laugh.

"I never got my rematch," comments Jasper, levelling his eyes at his sister. She snorts in response.

"If you felt like getting a whipping, you should have just said so. Belay for me, Bella?"

I smile. "Not a problem," I reply. The five of us walk up the stairs and set up at the Coke wall—the unofficial speed-climbing wall of choice at RockFace.

After everyone is harnessed and appropriately tied in, Alice calls the start. "Ready, set, GO!"

Rosalie is quick—I need to be just as fast on belay to keep up with her. I get into a rhythm as she moves up the wall. I don't really have the time to see who wins—that job is left to Alice. Judging from Jasper's cry at the top, I'm guessing it's him.

"And the crowd goes wild! Roaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr!"

"Whatever, young'un," Rose responds as I lower her to the ground. She unclips and hands me the carabiner. "Your turn."

I hesitantly take the 'biner from her and clip it to my own harness. Every time a speed-climbing challenge has been thrown down, I've either gone home or been responsible for calling the start—being the center of attention with cheering and screaming isn't my thing.

"Ahh, what the hell." I chalk my hands and clap off the excess. Turning to my opponent—who is cackling at me evilly—I extend my arm. Narrowing my eyes, I beckon with four fingers—just like Morpheus.

"Bring it, Chalky." Emmett grins. I grin back and place my hands on the wall.

"The rules are, there are no rules," Alice says. "First to the top wins, use any hold you can get your hands on, and the edges of the wall are fair game if you think they'll help you get there faster. Okay, then!" She raises her hand before dropping it dramatically. "Ready, set, GO!"

I use my legs to push me as far as I can go, reaching for a large jug hold with my right hand at the same time. As I grasp my fist around it, the hold pivots on the screw that is holding it to the wall. Rose wasn't expecting my big lunge and has not yet taken up all of the slack in the rope.

My hand slips from the hold, and I hit the floor, landing heavily on the outside edge of my foot.

Put simply, it hurts like a motherfucker. I cry out in pain.

"Oh, my God, Bella! I'm so sorry!" Rose unclips from the belay device and rushes to my side, where I sit curled up at the bottom of the wall. Tears spring in my eyes.

"It's okay, Rose, really," I grit out. I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. She takes my foot in her hands and cradles it gently.

Alice skips over, phone in hand. "What do you think, Rose?"

Rosalie is examining my ankle. I wince when she touches the outside of it. "It's just a sprain, I think. She should have it looked at, though."

"I'm already on it," Alice responds, phone to her ear. "Hi, it's me. Are you on your way? ...Good...Yeah, my friend hurt herself. I need you to look at her...Okay, we will...Okay...I'll get Emmett to do that...'kay...Bye." She turns to Emmett, who has since been lowered back to the ground. "My cousin's on his way. Em, you need to go and get some ice."

Emmett walks away from us quickly, his large form disappearing down the staircase. Rose is telling me to steady my breathing, which I'm trying really hard to do. Jasper has gone to wait in the entrance for whoever Alice called, and Alice...Alice is dancing all around me.

"Please, Al, can you sit down?" I plead. "You're making me dizzy." The pain is severe, and my ankle is already starting to look like it has a purple golf ball attached to it. I glance away.

Within what seems like minutes, Emmett has returned with an ice pack. Rosalie gently applies it to my ankle. She's in the process of wrapping an Ace bandage around it when Jasper appears at the top of the stairs. Behind him...

Holy shit, could this night get any fucking worse?

Carrying a black medical bag and looking as hot as ever in black dress pants, shiny black shoes, and a white pinstriped business shirt—sleeves rolled up—is the Bulldozer.

I can't help it—it must be the pain talking. Polite Bella has left the building. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"You're Alice's friend?" he retorts.

I look at Alice. "The Bulldozer is your cousin?"

Alice looks at the Bulldozer. "You're the Bulldozer?"

The Bulldozer looks back at Alice. "What did you call me?"

Emmett looks at me with some form of recognition. "Oh! You're the brunette with great tits that fell in the lobby?"

I look at Edward. Pain and disbelief show in the screech in my voice. "You said what about me?"

No one can say anything else—because tiny Alice has leapt onto Edward's back and is shrieking while swatting wildly at his head. He has dropped his medical bag and is attempting to field her blows.

I turn to Rosalie. "What the hell is going on?" She drops her head and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"This place is a fucking madhouse."

A/N: Oh, Chalky. I've done that. She's right—it really, really hurts. What's the hurtiest thing you've done to yourself? (Don't judge me, hurtiest is a word! It's on the internet now—it must be a word)

Some Recs: Leave 'em a review!

If you follow me on twitter, you'll know I have a love affair with High Fidelity by iReen. She completed it this week. If you were waiting for it to finish, run, don't walk. It will change you. iReen has the most beautiful way with the English language, that I want to swim to San Francisco just so she'll say things to me. It's her bravery to post HiFi that motivated me to put YD out there.

Speaking of completed fics - A Pound of Flesh by jaxon22 completed this week, too. Worth a re-read from start to fin.

Another short, sweet and complete: My Angel Is A Centerfold by SophiaAnne. Only 5 chaps, but a cute, well-rounded story. Check it out.

Some definitions:

Traditional climbing: A style of rock climbing where climbers place all gear to protect them from falling. There's no top rope to hold you, nor are there bolts to clip onto (as there are in Sport climbing).

Cam: A spring-loaded device used for protection.

Hex (short for hexcentric): A hexagonal shaped nut that is attached to a flexible looped wire. You stick it into a crack and use it as a protection point on the rock.

Protection: Ooh, the innuendo! In the climbing sense, protection is stuff that stops you from falling and killing yourself. In trad climbing, a lead climber (first one up) goes and places protection for the seconders, or followers, to use. Can get expensive if you forget to collect it at the end of the day. That's what gumbies are good for—they usually forget to grab all their gear. In sport climbing, protection is pre-placed bolts that are permanently stuck into the rock.