The Unicorn's back door was cracked open slightly, and there was music blaring. My arms were full of bags of food—maybe I'd gone slightly overboard there—so I worked the toe of my shoe into the door and pulled it open.

First obstacle: four cases of beer in my way. Great. No hands. I tried to push them out of the way, but they wouldn't budge. "Umm—help?" No one answered, and I'm sure they couldn't hear me over the music. I wasn't sure who was there anyway. "HELP?" I shouted a little louder. A door popped open—Rose's office, I guessed, and two heads popped out. WHAT THE FUCK?? I almost shouted. I realized instantly that Rose's hair was mussed and the other head belonged to…motherfucker son of a diseased whore! That Jacob kid. The one who wasn't supposed to be fucking working. And there he was, slightly sweaty with a major case of Sex Hair. Second obstacle. You know what would help me in this situation? What's that thing called when you can set shit on fire with your brain? You know, like Drew Barrymore did when she was a toddler, before she got all hot? Mmmmm…Drew Barrymore….fucking focus, Emmett! Or like that hot chick in the Hellboy movies…shit, don't any guys have it? Pyrokinesis! Is this somehow related to the ovaries or something? FUCK! The Human Torch! There you go! Human Torch…he's a dude, and he's apparently even straight. BURN, YOU NATIVE BASTARD, BURN!

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I said coldly. "Rose asked me to come over and help. I thought you weren't supposed to be here," I said. It sounded like an accusation.

"Change of plans," Jacob said brightly. "Hey! You brought food! HEY, ROSE! HE BROUGHT FOOD!" Jacob bounded up to me like an overeager puppy who'd sighted a pan full of kibble. I hated him.

"So I see." Rosalie came up behind him as Jacob grabbed the bags of food—food I'd carefully selected for Rose—and bounded off with them. "Sorry…he never seems to stop eating. I practically have to hide the martini olives and lemon wedges." She shifted the boxes over so that I could come in.

"You don't seem to be doing much work," I said stiffly, nodding to the boxes that still obviously hadn't made it to the large refrigerator. If only something heavy had fallen on Jacob's ass.

Rosalie Hale lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Well, Jacob brought in some new music, and we were giving it a listen. All work and no play makes Rose a dull girl, and all that."

"Really?" I sneered at her slightly. "You might want to check out your hair."

Rose's eyes narrowed dangerously. She looked like a fucking puma ready to pounce, but she turned abruptly away and stomped off to a unisex bathroom at the end of the storeroom. She picked up a brush and raked it through her hair irritably. I could hear the sound of hair ripping from across the room. I sighed. This was not going well. They couldn't have been doing what I think they were doing? Right? Right?

"Fuck, Rose, you're making my scalp fucking bleed." I walked into the small bathroom behind her and took the brush away from her.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. They looked nearly black and glistened threateningly. If she'd turned to me, bared fangs, and gone for my jugular, I wouldn't have been surprised. "Easy, girl," I said, holding up one empty hand and the brush. "I just want to help."

Her eyes narrowed, but I ignored her, placing one hand on the top of her head. It felt awesome—hard, naturally, but covered in this beautiful silk the color of silver corn. Damn. I began working the brush through her hair gently. I remembered doing the same for my mom when she'd had the broken collarbone. It always made her happy. "You don't have to be like your father, Emmett," she'd once said to me. "You can be gentle and loving—you are gentle and loving. You are my son, not his."

And so my mom's son brushed out Rosalie's hair gently, working out all the knots and snags. But my father's son reminded me that those snags were probably there from fucking the help. And anger flared again. Because if they were doing what they looked like they were doing, then I was the biggest patsy ever.

I handed her back the brush abruptly and turned to walk out. "You might want to come along if you want to actually eat. That Jacob kid's probably worked up quite the appetite."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Rose's face was flushed, and she was absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair.

"It means I'm sorry I interrupted," I snapped, and marched off into the office, where Jacob had already opened every container of food and somehow located a paper plate—shit, he probably carried around a pack just in case free food showed up—and was piling mounds of my careful selections onto the plate. I wished I'd poisoned the shit. I imagined him lying face first in the curry. It made me feel a little better.

"You know, I really didn't bring food for three, Jake," I said, not bothering to hide my annoyance. He already had a huge mouthful of butter chicken. I hoped he'd fucking choke on it. Please let there be a bone in there…a big, splintery bone.

Rosalie came in behind me. "Yeah, leave some for the rest of us," she said, surveying the table full of Indian food. She still sounded annoyed, but she was still running her fingers through her hair thoughtfully.

I shrugged and reached for the food. When in doubt, eat.

I watched Rose fix a plate. She didn't pull any punches…she took decent servings of almost everything. She passed on the mildest butter chicken, but took a little extra of the spicy stuff. She ate like she enjoyed it. She wasn't shoveling it in like Jake, but she ate with obvious enjoyment. When she finished her tandoori chicken—a leg—she actually sat for a moment and sucked on the end of the bone. Nice. "Damn, Emmett McCarty, how did you guess that Tandoor was my favorite restaurant?"

"Really? Just a guess…it was always mine in college." I shifted, suddenly aware that my pants were approximately 8 inches too tight. And, yes, I mean 8 inches. I had a girl measure it once. Want to know Winchester's girth? She measured that, too.

"You went to the University of Washington too, didn't you?" she asked with deliberate

casualness. But I wasn't about to get into that with her, not now, not in front of Jacob ever.

"Yeah. But I'm from Tennessee originally." I'd rather talk about my background than get into the college days with her. "So what was blaring when I came in, anyway?"

"Puscifer," Jacob answered. A chunk of chicken came flying out with the P. Nice.

"Gross, Jake," Rose said, with a grimace. "Clean that shit up. This is my desk, asshole."

"Sorry," Jake said sheepishly, letting loose another spray of chicken bits.

"Okay, new rule…no talking with your mouth full," Rose said, pointing a fork threateningly in his direction. She punctuated each word with a seriously scary jab of the fork. At least once I thought she was gonna spear his eye. Okay, maybe I hoped she'd spear his eye.

"So, Emmett McCarty. What brought you to Washington from Tennessee?"

"My mom died. Didn't have a reason to stay after that." I was determined to keep this brief. God only knew what she'd do with my sob story if she got her talons in it.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she actually looked it.

"It's her birthday today," I blurted out. I looked up, appalled at the fact that I'd just revealed that. I hadn't even told Ed or Jasper.

Jacob swallowed hard. "My mom died, too. Car accident."

I looked at him. He wasn't fucking joking. I was fully prepared to rip his fucking head off and piss down his neck, but he was clearly serious. The look in his eyes couldn't be faked. "Sucks, don't it?" I said. It was the understatement of the century. The Southern accent was coming out in full force. Talking about Mom always did that, and I didn't want to anymore. Rose looked back and forth between the two of us, not knowing who to pity more, I guess.

"So, do you still need my help, since Cougarbait here decided to show up?" I felt a little bad calling him that after it was out of my mouth, but I was determined to change the fucking subject.

"Hey!" Jacob protested. Rose looked at him forbiddingly: his mouth was full again. He remembered, and snapped it shut.

"I was thinking about sending Jake home since you're here," she said softly. Soft looked weird on Rose.

"Hey, that's fine by me," Jake said, after he swallowed, of course. "Just don't pay him more than you pay me."

Fuck, the mind reeled from the implications. "I'm getting paid? With what?"

They both looked at me. Jake's mouth just kind of hung open for a while. Rose narrowed her eyes in my direction and said, very slowly, as if she were talking to someone who barely spoke English, "With. Free. Drinks. And Jake…" she pointed to him, "Gets paid for barbacking with MONEY."

Shit, she understood what I was getting at. I was suddenly ashamed of myself. I looked down at my plate, wondering how the fuck she made me feel bad. She was the one fucking an employee in her fucking office, after all.

"Maybe this is just too awkward," I said softly.

Jake took this moment to say, "You know what? I don't really know what's going on here, but I'm getting the hell out of it. You gonna be okay with him, Rose?"

"Yeah, Jake, I think I can handle it." Her voice just dripped with sarcasm. "You're not my guard dog. I don't need a guard dog."

Jake said, "Yeah, I know. He might, though."

I looked at him, just pissed off now. "You think you could help me in any way I couldn't help myself?" I flexed, completely unnecessarily.

"I see I'm not needed here," Jake said, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "You guys just try not to kill each other, please. She's my paycheck, you know."

"Out, Jake," Rose said. Ah, there was that note of pissy I'd grown so fond of.

Jake blundered his way out through the back. I heard a motorcycle start up and drive away. Rose and I sat in silence for a while, finishing the food up. Eventually Rose leaned back in her chair and patted her belly. Yes, "belly", and one that looked refreshingly soft and feminine, in contrast to the tight, zero-body-fat abs I had shoved in my face at the gym.

I'd never wanted her more in my life. So I decided to bite the bullet.

"So, what were you and Jake up to before I got here?"

Rosalie Hale's eyes practically shot daggers in my direction. "Clearly not what you were thinking."

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't treat any of my employees the way you treat Jake." I took the holier-than-thou approach.

"What the fuck ever, Emmett McCarty. Jake's my friend. Let me explain this concept to you. A friend is someone that you like, but don't sleep with. You have fun with the person with your clothes actually all in place. I assume you have similar with Edward and Jasper?" She arched an eyebrow at me.

I rolled my eyes in response.

"My point is that you can actually have the same with members of the opposite sex. Hard to believe, isn't it? But you can."

"Fine, fine, point taken. So what were you doing?"

"We were listening to music and dancing and horsing around. I, Rosalie Hale, actually enjoy having fun on occasion."

I picked up the CD case that Jake had left on the desk: V is for Vagina. Classy.

"So is this what you were listening to?" I asked.

"Yeah…it's pretty good, actually. We can put it on while we put stuff away, if you want."

"Okay." I couldn't quite believe that she'd actually asked me here to work, but we probably wouldn't get to the point before we did what needed to be done. "Let's get to it, I guess."

The delivery wasn't actually that big. There were a few cases of beer, some kegs, and a case or two of liquor. She got busy unloading the boxes of liquor and putting the stuff away behind the bar while I rolled the kegs into the cooler and hefted the cases of beer into place. I kinda liked the CD that was playing…very heavy bass, kinda hypnotic. It would probably make good workout music; it would make better sex music. I paused and listened to the lyrics of one song:

Wake up son of mine.

Momma got somethin' to tell you.

Change is come.

Life will have its way

With your pride, son.

Take it like a man.1

I actually fucking choked up a little bit. Even though some guy was singing the words, it was like she was there with me in the cooler. I shook my head like an Etch-a-Sketch to get rid of the thoughts. I'd thought about Mom way too much today. It was like picking at a scab: it would never heal if I didn't leave it alone, and it would scar either way.

"Hey, Rose," I called. "You want me to unpack the cases of beer?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind…it'll speed things up when we're open. Just load the sixes into the cooler."

I packed the beer away, admiring the choices she'd made. There was a case of Redhook, a case of Elliot Bay, and one of Hale's Ales, along with some other choices…Anchor, Flying Dog, Left Hand. Good stuff, really.

"You almost done?" I turned, and Rose was leaning against the door of the cooler.

I held up a bottle of Hale's Cream Ale. "Relation?"

"Coincidence." She smiled. "But I like their motto." I looked closer at the bottle: "Think Globally, Drink Locally."

"I try to buy locally whenever I can. People really like local stuff, and the more unusual, the better. Grab two of those, and let's go have a drink at the bar. I've got some time until we open. Alice isn't due in for another hour or so."

I grabbed two cold ones from the front. I'd put the new stuff in at the back. I hoped she'd notice later.

She was sitting at the bar when I got out there. "This stuff is actually my favorite." She had two frosty mugs already waiting. God, I love this woman.

I listened to the song playing while Rosalie popped the caps on the beers. She swiveled her hips slightly, clearly absorbed in what she was doing, but still enjoying the beat of the music. I couldn't help thinking what that little swivel would be doing for Winchester if she were sitting in my lap.

She'll make you cry.

I'll sell my soul, to be back in your bosom.

Gladly, now please suck me dry,

And still you'll cry, to be back in her bosom

To do it again.2

She poured out neatly, steep angle, got a beautiful head on the beer. She gives good head, I thought to myself. The beer was just the color of her hair. I held it up to the light. "Beautiful," I said out loud.

"I've never been much of a wine girl, but beer…that's the stuff right there." She drank back a long pull and actually smacked her lips a little. I'd never seen anything sexier in my life. I just sat there and looked at her with my mouth hanging open.

Rosalie Hale laughed. "Never seen a girl drink an actual beer? You probably mostly date the Natural Lite drinkers, right? Or maybe that 64-calorie horse piss that Miller has out now?"

Ohmygawd, I was as stiff as a board. I couldn't seem to close my mouth. "That shit reminds me of having sex in a canoe…"

"Because it's fucking close to water?3" she finished, smiling at me over the rim of her mug. "We're agreed on that score, Emmett McCarty. And I wanted to say thanks for coming," Rosalie said, the smile slipping off her face a little. "I wasn't sure that you'd want to, after how I treated you earlier."

Fuck, I'd like nothing better than to come right now. "Um, I understand, actually. I know what it must have looked like. And…" No time like the present, I thought. "I guess you know about my fraternity in college." I looked out of the corner of my eye at her, but her face didn't give anything away. She was looking down at her beer with a stiff face. "My ex-fraternity, I should say. I guess it didn't have a very good reputation, huh?"

"No, it didn't," she said stiffly.

"I didn't…I wouldn't…" I didn't know how to proceed.

"So were you there when the rape happened?" she asked softly.

"Yes. I was the one who called the cops."

She looked up at me sharply. "You were? So were you the one who took her to the hospital?"

"How do you know so much about that?" I didn't know that anyone knew that I'd gone to the hospital with that girl. The victim, I thought.

"I knew her," she said simply, and pressed her lips together in a thin line. She clearly didn't want to elaborate.

"Oh. Yeah, I went with her."

She just sat there for a long time, occasionally sipping her beer. "She was never quite the same after that, you know. She didn't really smile. She did, but…" She sipped again. "Her eyes were all wrong."

"I know that look," I said heavily. On my mom's face, I added silently.

"Really?"

I just nodded. "I'm sorry I ever pledged. I would've been better going it alone."

I took a sip of beer, then noticed that Rose was staring at me with a seriously weird look on her face. Suddenly, she launched herself at me, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. A lot. Her hands wound up into my hair, and she made little moaning noises even before I'd recovered enough to respond. I ran my fingers up into her hair, wrapped one arm around her waist. She nearly pulled me off my barstool. Christ, she's really strong, I thought. My tongue touched her lips gently, and she immediately opened up, letting my tongue into her mouth and actually sucking on it a little. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. She tasted like the beer we were sharing.

I wanted it to go on and on, but I had to stop it. I did. I couldn't just fuck her right there on the bar, even though I desperately wanted to. More than I'd ever wanted anything ever in my entire life. More than I'd wanted the complete set of GI Joes when I was a kid, more than I'd wanted my Jeep, more than I'd wanted to set fire to my frat house. She meant more to me than that. I wasn't about to fuck it up by treating her like a piece of meat. I brought my hand up to her face and caressed her cheek gently. I pulled back just a little. Her lips were still parted, and she looked—I hoped—slightly disappointed.

I looked into those eyes, and I was just fucking hooked. I trailed the backs of my fingers down her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes. "Let's not rush it," I said softly. "Besides, I didn't think you really liked me all that much."

Rosalie looked down. I put my fingers under her chin and gently tilted it back up. I let my lips graze across hers gently. "I know I like you," I said.

Rosalie looked into my eyes. Hers were the color of a late summer afternoon sky…intense blue bordering on purple. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have made a snap judgment about you. And I do like you. More than I should."

I let go of her, and she sank back down onto her barstool. "I made a judgment about you, too. Well, you and Jake."

"Yeah, well. I probably do flirt with him a little. I know he does with me. I'm the boss lady and all. I don't think he knows what to do with a strong woman." Her hand reached out and touched my knee, her fingers absentmindedly drawing little circles on my knee. It gave me goosebumps in places I didn't know you could get them. It was all I could do to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head. Seriously, I've had orgasms that didn't feel that good.

I said something that sounded like, "Well…fya…nta…hmmmm…"

She smiled and cocked her head to one side, that amazing curtain of hair cascading down to her shoulder. Well fya nta hmmmmm is right, I thought. "What was that, Emmett McCarty?"

Fuck it. I launched myself at her, and we were right back in the middle of it. My hands tangled back in her hair, her nails running up and down my back. I pressed her back into the edge of the bar, and she leaned backward a little, clearly inviting me to look further south, and I trailed my lips down her neck, burying my face in the little crook where her neck met her shoulder. I kissed there, flicked my tongue against it a little. She fucking moaned, and I brought my hand up to cup her left…

And I froze. Winchester threatened to go off at any minute, threatened me with a seriously sore evening, hell, I think at one point he threatened to debone permanently. But I knew we had to stop. This woman is special, something in my head told me.

"Rose…" I started to speak, but my face was still buried in her neck.

"Hmmmmmmmm?" she said, and took hold of my hand, bringing it up to the promised land.

Ohmygawd. Well fya nta hmmmmm….I couldn't even form a coherent thought. Granted, there was very little blood in my head—well, in that head, at least—at the moment. I could feel the firm lower curve of her breast nestle against my hand. She brought her lips to mine, and she took the lead. Her tongue touched mine again, and it was like electric shock. The rest of the bar faded away, and there was nothing but that soft, talented little tongue pressing against mine, swirling around inside my mouth, and it was all I could do not to come in my pants. I pulled away from her, giving her a last little nip on the bottom lip.

"Okay…I need to sit down for a minute." I wobbled backward and fell heavily onto my stool.

Rose just smiled at me. Her face was the most beautiful shade of pink. I wondered what else on her body was the same shade.

"Okay, I'm sitting down," I said stupidly. She laughed. Fault not mine is. Head no blood in. Yoda turning into.

I took another sip of beer. Maybe alcohol would help. "I think we should…go out sometime. Like on a date."

"That's a novel concept."

"What, dating?"

"A guy turning down a sure thing for a date." She leveled a stare at me that would melt chocolate. Sure thing…seriously? I thought Winchester was going to actually bust through my zipper. He was sure knocking, anyway.

"I think we could be more than a hookup," I said, or that's what I meant to say. I guess it was coherent, because she actually nodded. She agreed. Thank God.

"I just don't really have a lot of time for dating, with the bar and all. I work nights."

I sighed. "I know…I work days. And it's busy as hell at the gym right now."

"New Year's rush?"

"Yeah. It settles down the middle of February or so, but the next six weeks are pretty much gonna bite." I thought for a while. "You know what? Fuck it. I just hired some new help, and my manager Garrett's been there practically since we opened, so…maybe I can take an afternoon. Thursdays aren't very busy…"

"They're not very busy here, either. Maybe Alice and Jake could cover opening for me. You know, so I didn't have to rush off early or anything. Some things should just happen," and she started up with the knee thing again, "Naturally."

I closed my eyes to enjoy the feelings, but almost the minute that I did, we heard the back door open and a clear musical voice call out, "Rosalie!"

Rose sighed. "Alice is here."

"So I hear."

"Are you going to hang out tonight?" she asked, attempting casualness, I thought, but falling short of the mark.

"I can't think of any place I'd rather be," I said quite honestly, giving her a quick peck on the tip of the nose, and sat back to enjoy the rest of my beer, and the view as Rose walked away. Free beer, and the promise of a date with Rosalie Hale? It was shaping up to be an awesome night at the Unicorn Pub.

1 Puscifer, Momma Sed. V is for Vagina, 2007.

2 Puscifer, Rev. 22:20 (Dry Martini Mix), V is for Vagina, 2007

3 Idle, Eric. "The Bruces' Philosophers' Song", Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl, 1982