Jacob turned the page and a tarnished piece of old paper fell out onto the ground. He picked it up and unfolded it. It appeared to be a contract with stipulations and signatures at the bottom. His attention was caught by the names at the bottom: Carlisle Cullen and Ephraim Black. With a start, Jacob realized this was not a contract, but a treaty. The treaty. The one that allowed his pack to coexist almost peacefully with the vampire family his Nessie belonged to. He refolded the treaty and continued to read, playing with the frayed edges of the treaty unconsciously.

September 10, 1936

Sometimes a monster is the only hope. We have made a treaty with the cold ones.

Sally cannot get out of bed anymore. Since our roadtrip, I visited her everyday and she was getting worse. The wound on her leg developed red marks and ulcers and those ulcers started to show up on other parts of her body. The Forks doctor did not know what to make of it and the one in Port Angeles prescribed a pain killer, but nothing for the actual sores. Bixie remembered some salves her mother used to apply to sores, but that just made them bleed and ooze. The sores were growing.

She was in tears when I arrived. Her black hair hung limply down her back, sticking to her face and tears. Her green dress with the white squares looked as though she had slept in it and I realized that she had worn the same dress yesterday. "Ephraim," she begged, "hold me." I sat beside her on the davenport, her back leaning against my right side, and held her hand. She squeezed it when the pain got worse.

I knew what I wanted to do, but I was not sure I could convince Levi or Sally that it was a good idea. I could hear her grandfather breathing in the back room, unsure what to do as well.

"I think we need a doctor with… more experience." I finally said. She sniffled.

"I won't go down there again. You can't make me!" Sally said as she yanked her hand away from me and buried her face in her hands.

"Sssshhhhh. No one is making you do anything. I am just thinking maybe Dr. Carlisle will come here."

"Dr. Cullen hates me now, he won't come," Sally moaned. I considered that she was right. We were probably not his favorite people. After all, I had threatened most of the members of his family with death if I ever saw them again.

"Perhaps we could suggest a treaty," Levi said, coming out of his bedroom. His long white hair was pulled back with his old leather strap. "You said they wanted more territory to hunt. What if we split the county with them so they could hunt in the areas where the wildlife is the thickest, but we still keep them far away from La Push. An exception for this one group of cold ones who have not hurt any humans." Levi's suggestion was a good one. But could we really trust a group of bloodthirsty vampires to stay on one side of an imaginary line? Even human pale faces had a problem keeping treaties.

"We would have to write it. Our terms. Our wording," I paused for a moment. I looked at the back of Sally's head. "Do you trust Dr. Carlisle, Sally? Would it be okay if just he came?" She tilted her head back so I could look into her light brown eyes. She sniffled and nodded. "Okay, Levi," I said, "a treaty. Can you call Quil?"

"Did he finally get a telephone?" Levi asked incredulously.

"Sure did. Have the operator connect you to L2- 316." I traced a circle onto the back of Sally's hand and I felt her relax. She was asleep before Quil arrived.

Levi dug in kitchen drawers until he found a fountain pen and a thin lined notebook with a brown cardboard cover. He handed it to Quil and took his place on the maroon chair and Quil grabbed a wooden kitchen chair and straddled it backwards so he could rest his chin on the curved back. "I say they can't get within 50 miles of La Push," Quil began.

"From Neah Bay to Queets? That would help us protect the Makah and most of the Quinault reservations, too," Levi pointed out on the map he had spread out on his lap.

"But it would cut the Highway in half. And most of the good hunting ground, too. With 5 of them, they will probably need all the forest land they can get. How about we use that highway as the border, we patrol on the west side and they stay on the east," Levi looked worried. "That means the highway and Forks are…."

"No man's land," I said. That phrase reminded me of pain and death and war. It was the perfect name for it. Levi nodded and started sketching out the borders that the Cullens would be banned from crossing. Levi dictated the legalese, Quil's metal pen scratching the surface of the paper. I read the treaty.

Inasmuch as animal hunting is necessary for civilized coexisting for the Cullen family and humans, we, the Protectors of the Quileute Nation allow the Cullen family the hunting ground to the east of Highway 101 throughout Clallam County when both groups are in the area. The Protectors will patrol within one mile of the highway, leaving a no-man's land which will provide a buffer for the two groups. This treaty shall be considered null and void if

a) any Cullen or their associates shall ever bite a human

b) any Cullen or their associates shall reveal the existence of the Protectors to anyone

c) any Protector shall reveal the true nature of the Cullens to anyone outside the Protectors and their wives

d) either party is attacked by the other

This treaty does not hinder the necessary destruction of other parties who may infringe on the territory with the intent of bodily harm.

I looked up and Levi and Quil nodded once. "I think I should go alone to bring the treaty to them. I know where they live and there is no need to expose more of us to their tempers." I shuddered slightly, remembering the mere size of the one they called Emmett and his seething lack of control.

"No, Ephraim. You shouldn't go alone. I will come with you. That way Quil can stay behind and patrol," Levi spoke the words and I knew that was the way it would happen. Levi and I would bring the treaty down to the Cullens, and leave Quil behind, running the borders. I shuddered for a second time, knowing that bringing Levi was only a step better than bringing his granddaughter, but his voice allowed for no variation. He was my beta and he would be there to protect my back.

I was usually grateful that the Cullens lived over a hundred miles away, but as Levi and I bounced in my Dodge KC pickup, its two large headlights poking up from the rounded tire guards like a snail's eyes, I wished it did not take quite so long to get there. I was nervous. We needed Dr. Carlisle's help and the only thing we had to offer him was a treaty allowing them to hunt. Would it be enough? Would he consider helping Sally one more time? I knew I was relying on his compassionate nature. Can a cold one have compassion?

As we pulled up to the driveway that now represented terror to me, I noticed the broken glass and cookies had been cleaned up. Not even a sliver sparkled on the cement walkway. The wind blew the maple leaves in all the trees surrounding their large home. As expected, the Cullens knew we were coming. Whether they heard us or smelled us coming, I was not sure. Perhaps both. Edward stood on the porch with his arms folded in front of his chest, his hair rustling in the slight breeze. The door behind him was tightly closed. I looked at Levi and he nodded. The time had come.

I opened the door and closed it behind me while Levi mirrored my actions. He had the treaty in the notebook, although Sarah had carefully rewritten it onto some expensive paper she used for her calligraphy practice. I hoped the Cullens would agree to our terms. I wondered where Dr. Carlisle was.

"My father will be here shortly. We just called him at the hospital and he is on his way," Edward replied to my thought. Levi looked at me quickly, a bit of confusion on his face.

"This is the mind-reader," I whispered, knowing Edward could hear me whether or not I did.

We heard a pair of rubber tires turn up towards us and turned in time to see Carlisle in his Ford Deuce join us at his home. He was pale and blonde and wearing a white coat that almost reached his knees. Underneath, his white shirt and tie were crisp and modern. He stepped out and came over to us.

"Ephraim, good to see you," he said, taking my hand into his cold one, chilling each of my fingers as he did.

"Dr. Carlisle, this is Levi, Sally's grandfather. And my childhood friend."

Carlisle shook his hand too, and greeted him, but I couldn't help but notice he was comparing our age discrepancy. "Very interesting to meet you, Levi. I am sorry I cannot invite you in, but I am afraid Emmett has not been doing well lately."

The last thing I wanted to do was to be invited into his home where my nose would burn and my tongue with sting for hours afterwards.

Levi spoke up, "We are not here to impose. But we have come to ask a favor." I heard two vampires hiss, one inside and one from the porch. "But we have something to offer in return as a thank you. My granddaughter's leg has gotten worse. It has some sort of infection and it is spreading. The doctors do not know what to make of it. We thought that with your experience, perhaps you could…"

"Of course. If Sally is willing to have me look at it, I would be glad to," Carlisle said.

"We are willing to have you, and you alone, travel with us to La Push. And in exchange, we have written a treaty which will enable your family to hunt and will also ensure the safety of our people," I said. Levi handed him the treaty and Dr. Carlisle read it.

I tried to clear my mind so that Edward could read along with his father and not be distracted by my thoughts. But the hardest thing to do when you are trying to think of nothing, is to remove things from your mind. Instead I worried that they would find fault with the treaty or insist on more land or harsher terms. I wondered how Sally was doing and whether someone was with her while I was gone. She had not wanted us to leave and had cried and thrown a magazine at her mother before collapsing into tears on the davenport.

I caught my thought and quickly shifted my sight over to Edward. He was looking politely in the other direction. Trying to pretend, as I was, that he had not seen my weakness. Carlisle finished reading and silently asked Edward a question. After his son's subtle nod, Carlisle turned to us with a smile, chilling but warm. "I think this treaty will serve us both. I must admit, I think it is a solid document."

"Levi has been a tribal judge for decades," I said, giving credit where it was due.

I pulled out the fountain pen from my pocket and asked with my eyes for the treaty to be returned. I turned around, my back to their large home, and used my curved hood as a desk. I signed it and returned it to Carlisle. He accepted the pen, and the metal tip scratched the parchment again.

He stepped toward us, the treaty outstretched. "Here you are, Levi and Ephraim. Thank you for allowing us to hunt so close to your land." I nodded and took the treaty. "Might we ask permission for the treaty to go into effect immediately? Rosalie and I need to take Emmett hunting."

I thought about it. We had not discussed a timeline, but there was no real reason it could not be effective immediately. Although I did not know how attractive Levi's blood would be to a cold one since he was no longer able to shift to his wolf form.

"He smells pretty bad," Edward assured me.

"Well then," I said with a little annoyance, being sure to speak my thoughts this time, "once we are gone, the treaty can be in force. Carlisle, do you have time to come look at Sally's leg now?"

"Of course. I will be right behind you. And I promise this will be the last time any of my family comes to La Push, unless we are specifically invited by one of the Protectors." He seemed to truly understand how important this was to us. I was grateful the leader of this group of vampires was so compassionate and understanding.

"As are we all," Edward assured me. Carlisle left the treaty in my hand and returned to the porch.

I had hoped the ride home would be a happy one. The treaty signed, the problem evaded, instead I had nothing to concentrate on but the memory of Sally's face, pained and alone on the davenport. Her black hair streaming down over the edge of the maroon upholstered arm, her leg draped over the embroidered seat, full of red and angry sores. La Push could not come soon enough. I started to breathe harder as we rounded the Forks corner and the pine trees began to close in, ever so slightly. I took a deep breath and hoped Levi had not noticed.

"It's okay. It has been a long day. I miss my Sarah, too," Levi said.

After miles of trees, the houses started to appear. Scattered at first and then more tightly bunched together. "He's behind us now," Levi said with a quick glance over his shoulder. We arrived at the Uley/Hudson home and parked only a moment before Dr. Carlisle did. He grabbed his bag from the front seat and joined us at the door. I could hear Sally's breathing through the rough wood. She was sleeping.

I opened the door and let in a rush of sea-scented air. Sally laid on the davenport, just as she had been when I left her, her face pointed toward the door, but her eyes closed. Her leg had gotten worse, the ulcers seemed to grow even as I stared at them. The sound of two pairs of men's boots stomping on the wooden entry way woke her up. At first she seemed alarmed, awakened abruptly and not finding herself alone. But her face softened as she recognized her grandfather and me.

"You're back!" she gushed. I smiled at her enthusiasm. Her mother sighed from the kitchen. The warm smells of a stew filled the house. I stepped to the side and Sally saw Dr. Carlisle. Sally recoiled slightly, a painful memory of nearly being attacked fresh on her face.

"Sally," I said trying to soothe her, "Dr. Carlisle has come to look at your leg. He won't hurt you, I promise.

He looked at me, slightly frustrated, but then addressed Sally. "I am sorry you caught Emmett on a bad day, Sally. He wanted me to apologize for him. I have brought you some medicine for your leg. May I?" He indicated approaching her.

"Okay, but Ephraim has to hold my hand," she looked at me hopefully.

"Sure, sure," I replied. That was next on my list of things to do anyway. I knelt down next to her head and Dr. Carlisle approached her leg. He opened his bag and took out two small glass bottles with black lids.

"You have caught Sporotrichosis from the wood injury. It is a fungus and not a true infection. You will need to take one of these pills three times a day until these bottles are empty. It will start feeling better right away, but make sure to finish the bottles," Dr. Carlisle said, placing the bottles in Sally's outstretched hand. "My family is waiting for me, I had best go." He gave me a pointed look before turning toward the door.

"I will see you out," I said. I followed him out to his sleek shiny black car before he turned to me.

"Make sure she finishes all those pills or the fungus will take over again," he said. I nodded and then couldn't help myself. I had to ask him how he knew so quickly. He seemed to sense my question. Even without his son's ability, he was good at reading faces and human nature. "Edward could see the ulcers in your mind and he described them to me. I was pretty sure it was Sporotrichosis, but I brought three other prescriptions just in case." He smiled slyly at his little joke.

"Thank you for everything and if you could let us know when you guys move out of the area, we will patrol a larger territory again."

"Oh, of course," Carlisle answered, "And if we ever move back, we will make sure to let your tribe know as well."

"Move back?" I asked.

"Yes, well, there are only so many overcast places for us to choose from. We rotate through our favorites, but we never come back until at least 60 years from when we left. Usually people have forgotten us by then."

I tightened my lips in displeasure. I really did not want to run into these guys in another 60 years. "Well, if you do ever come back, the treaty will be in force."

We thanked each other one last time and he stepped into his car and drove away.

December 23, 1936

Things to remember about imprinting:

1. It hurts.

2. It is wonderful.

3. When she is ready, you will be ready.

"Do you think we will get arrested?" Sally asked with excitement flushing her cheeks. I took my eyes from the fir lined road and was taken aback by her beauty. How had I convinced this wonderful girl to spend time with me? Her light brown eyes looked worried beneath their anticipation. Her black hair was cut to her shoulders and curled tight against her head.

I patted her thigh, covered in a new white dress with a short belted jacket on top of it, cinched to fit her form. "Of course not. Walkathons are not illegal in Vancouver." She giggled and wiggled in her seat. I smirked, "Yet." The radio had slated this as "the last dance-athon in Washington" and we were determined to be there. In the last three months, Sally's leg had healed just as Dr. Carlisle had said it would and now she was anxious to join in a dance competition.

We pulled into the heavily populated town and searched for the Vancouver Sport Palace where the dance was being held. The brick and wooden buildings reached up several stories, casting shadows as the evening hour approached. The parking lot was nearly full and the clarinet and piano swing music danced across the air to us as we approached. I parked in a distant spot and jumped out in time to open the door for Sally.

She mimicked my mock formality and said, "Thank you kind sir," as I held out my hand to her and stood up from a low bow. My Dodge pickup was one of hundreds of car parked around the Sport Palace.

We left our winter coats in the pickup, the day had been sunny and warm. Sally wore a short-sleeved jacket and I was in just a white shirt and pants. We tried to choose comfortable things so we could dance for hours without getting sore or hot.

We paid our entry fee, filled out the papers saying we were healthy, and joined the other dancers on the floor. The spectators lined the bleachers and walls, pushing against each other for a better view. Some people were already dancing, but most were waiting for the official start of the competition. There was a kitchen on the side and the evening meal supplied to the dancers was already wafting onto the dance hall.

The band consisted of probably 20 men, with different instruments and of different races. They were playing a cheerful jazzy piece written to get everyone excited. It was working on Sally. She grinned up at me and held tighter onto my hand.

The emcee tapped on the microphone and got our attention. "Welcome to the Transcontinental Derby Show. I am Al Painter. Are you ready to dance?" He waited for the crowd's roar and continued, "We'd like to thank Vancouver for the use of this great new Sports Palace and Bill Darby's Continentals for the music. A big thanks also goes to KWJJ and Mikey who are playing us on the radio. You all know the rules. Dance for 45 minutes, then rest for 15. No knees on the floor and if you stop moving, a judge will ask you to leave. Dinner will be served on the first break. We will have a sprint later on, plus some comedians and live singing tomorrow night, but for now, let's dance!"

I turned to Sally and took her hand in mine, my other hand finding a home on her waist. She balanced a hand on my shoulder and we started to bounce and dance in time to the cheerful music. Sally had wanted to practice before tonight, but I convinced her that no amount of practice would change the way I danced. My feet bounced in time to the music, raising our whole bodies an inch with each step.

The people around us were dancing in a similar fashion, with only the occasional professional dancer venturing into more difficult tap dancing and flourishes. I was just happy to be holding Sally. The last few months had brought changes. Now that she understood the dangers in our world, she was more accepting of me as her protector. The thought of me as a wolf still terrified her, so I did not bring it up.

The people pressed closely around us, a surge of humanity bouncing in time with the swing music. The audience clapped and oohed at the occasional amazing move.

At the midnight dance session, the music shifted from the exciting swing and jazz pieces to a slow song by Cole Porter. A woman in a dress smooth along her body but flouncy at the shoulders and below the knees took her place at the microphone and began to sing. "So worth the yearning for, so swell to keep all the home fires burning for," she crooned and I felt Sally lean into me further. There was no longer any space between our bodies. I could feel every curve and each straight line and she fit like she belonged there.

She swayed back and forth to my lead, my arm wrapped all the way around her back, cinching her close to me. Throughout a lengthy instrumental interlude she clung to me. As the singer joined in again, to end the song, Sally tilted her head up toward mine. She rubbed her nose on my chin, softly, pleading. I bent down to her and our lips were at the same level. She closed her eyes in hope and I could no longer resist the softness of her. I pressed my lips against hers and was surprised when after a few seconds, her mouth opened slightly, begging for more. I caressed her top lip, and then her bottom lip. She moaned in approval and deepened the connection as well.

Just as I was about to kiss her deeper, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Sir, you can't kiss in here," came the squeaky voice of a skinny man in an old suit. I looked over at him darkly. "It's in the rules…" he justified.

I looked back to Sally who looked embarrassed but conspiratorial at the same time. She reached up on her tip toes and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me down for another kiss.

She smiled with each caress and then whispered, "Now will we get arrested?" She laughed and I kissed her forehead and led her off the dance floor while the man in the old suit crossed his arms in disapproval.

She let her laughter free once we were outside and Sally led me, hands tight, almost running, to my pickup. The parking lot was darker now, with only streetlights along the outside edges lighting the cars. We hadn't planned on getting disqualified so quickly, and had no plans in Vancouver. The first meal of the night had been sandwiches and oranges, so a meal wasn't even necessary. As we jolted to the car, her hand tightly holding mine, I wondered what we were going to do. A six hour drive home did not seem like a wise idea. The quarter moon peaked out behind the clouds, then disappeared again, dark clouds enveloping it.

Sally flipped around to face me once she reached the pickup. She looked at me, guessing, wanting. Then she whispered, "Kiss me again, Ephraim." And I obeyed.

This time it was soft and timid. There was no music to encourage us, no audience to be scandalized, only the two of us. Alone. I placed my hand on her arm, still by her side. My thumb found the inside of her elbow, soft and almost hiding beneath the short-sleeved jacket. My lips found hers again, kissing and pressing and worshipping. Sally raised her right arm up to my shoulder and pulled me closer to her, touching.

The rain hit my hair and cooled the back of my neck. I stopped to look up and smiled as I got a face full of cold December rain. Sally squealed and turned to the pickup. She tugged at the handle, trying to open the door and escape the rain. With a jerk, it opened and she climbed inside, her hair dripping onto her darted jacket, darkening it in stripes. The curls she has spent so long pincurling and tucking under came undone and her hair hung loosely around her shoulders.

I followed her inside and closed the door behind me. The rain echoed loudly on the metal roof, begging an entrance. Long streams of water wound down the windshield and windows, trapping us inside. Sally wiped her face with her hand and shifted off her long wool coat which was slung over her side of the seat. She leaned forward to put it on, staring at each button carefully as she closed the coat around her, trying to conserve as much heat as she could.

Finally done, she looked up at me. "Now what?"

It was late and cold and we were tired. But I had finally kissed her, finally told her with my actions how I felt about her. I pondered the next steps: the conversations and the caressing.

But it was past midnight. And we were tired. "Let's get out of here," I said and turned to start my pickup. The headlights bounced through the rain, allowing me to see just a few feet ahead of us. I drove over to a more secluded place, to the west near a lake where the lampposts could not reach. The lake was doppled with falling rain, echoing the drops on the roof. I turned off the car. I hadn't brought any camping gear, but the seat running all the way across the pickup was big enough for one night of lounging.

I put my back against the window and motioned for Sally with my arms. She dove in, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head on my chest, like we had when she was ten. But this time it was different. I felt a need for her, and felt that need from her as well.

I reached down beside Sally on the seat and pulled up my trenchcoat. It was a doublethick gabardine coat with a wide collar and thick buttons. I laid it on her like a blanket and stroked her hair, wishing for time to freeze tonight and speed up to the time when we could do all the things we wanted to do. My hand was rough and it caught strands of her hair as I stroked, parts of her becoming attached to parts of me.

In the morning, the pickup's windows were foggy. The windshield faced east and had already cleared. The sun was throwing light across the water, sparkling and glowing. I watched a Merganser land quietly on the still lake. I lifted my right hand again and stroked Sally's hair, waking her up the same way I had put her to sleep. She looked up at me tentatively, unsure where we were or perhaps what we were doing.

"Did we really get kicked out of a dance-athon?" she smiled quietly.

"Yes, for kissing," I said, pointedly.

"That part I remember," she said pushing herself up on my chest until her face was even with mine. Her good morning kiss was quick and lovely. She slid back down my shirt and sighed. Then she tensed, "Do we have to tell my dad?"

"Well, I think he will know we got kicked out of the dance when we arrive home today."

"No," Sally said, hitting my chest when she saw my smile, "about the kissing."

"Do you think it will upset him?" I was curious to learn what her father thought about me.

"I don't know. I just don't want him to worry about me and I always told him there was nothing going on between us, so now if there is…" she trailed off, not quite sure what it meant or even what was going on between us. She looked at me again, "Ephraim, what am I to you?"

"You are my everything, Sally. My best friend, my soul mate, my everything."

"For how long?"

"What?" I asked, confused by the question.

"How long have you loved me?" she clarified.

I wanted to say forever, because that was what it felt like. But the love had changed in such strange ways since the beginning, that it felt wrong to even call it by the same name. Love. So vague and confusing. Love for a child and love of a friend and love for a girlfriend and even love for a wife were different and yet we use the same word.

My hesitation hurt Sally. "Oh," she said in defeat.

She sat up, careful not to come in contact with my chest again. She was about to scoot to the other side of the pickup, but my heart ached at her absence. I reached out and pulled her close again, kissing the top of her head. She looked up and I took her face in my hands.

"Sally, I love you more today than I have ever loved you before. You are all that I want, all that I need. When you were a child, I loved you with the love a parent has. Now that you are a woman, I love you with more love than I can imagine. Never doubt my love for you," I said. I smiled and released her face.

She blinked back tears. "I love you too," she whispered. I reached out to her chin, caressing her jawline back to her hair. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

I chuckled at her change of subject. "Sure, sure. Let's go get breakfast."

On the drive home after our breakfast at a diner, Sally sat in the middle of the cab, cuddled against my side. She held my hand possessively. I let her decide what to tell her father and mother. She said she was going with dating, but that sounded too much like what the college kids did: setting a different date for each night. She said that the only other thing to be was engaged, and since we were not that, dating had to do.

I twitched nervously, wishing there was a better word for what we had. I would just have to ask her to marry me as soon as I could. I wanted everyone everywhere to know that we were together.