Today's episode of Fic on the Fly is brought to you by the letter… S.

Hard to pick this round! There were several similar prompts given, so forgive me if I missed listing you. Miamia80, Sarabella79, AnjieNet, Lurecyka, JTFanFic, PJ Austin, and Lovemesomelove called either "Strategy" or "Plan". Wonderfullybedazzled, That'sMzPeachesTYVM, and Dans l'ombre weren't far away.

Scooterstale, darling dear, I'll get to yours soon enough ;D

Prompt #25: Strategy

Being the vampire that I was, having been essentially frozen for all time in my late adolescent form – both physically and in terms of personality – change for me always came slowly and not without great impetus.

Now, bearing in mind my recent debacle of a rescue attempt, one might argue that being torn limb from limb by a pack of rabid, drooling dogs and being saved through no aid of my own, literally seconds before losing my head could serve as such a great impetus.

If one were to do so, frankly, one would be… right.

Extreme pain and near-oblivion wasn't exactly a novelty I wanted to experience again, at least not any time soon.

Consider my lesson learned.

As such, taking my warlord-turn-brother-in-law's advice, rather than rushing headlong into enemy territory again (as my dimwitted instincts for whatever reason demanded), I fought that irrational side of myself and decided to employ a bit of intelligence and planning this time around. And as any good strategist would tell you, gathering information on one's target(s) was essential.

Which was why I found myself about to scale the outside wall of a small, abandoned Cape Cod in the middle of Forks, Washington, at quarter past ten on a Saturday night.

Okay, fine, it was also why I had three other vampires strategically stationed in a loose half-mile perimeter and playing sentries and why I had two others searching for all the information they could find concerning the current canine populace of La Push.

After a quick scan of the area revealed no sign of possible intruders, with a quick, lithe leap, I shot up even with the second story window and easily caught the eaves. I was fortunate in that, as I'd expected, unlike the bottom floor, the window up here had been left unlocked. It creaked ever so slightly when I slid it open.

I made a mental note that I'd need to talk to the girl about locking her windows from now on.

After I'd gotten her away from those beasts. Obviously.

Inside the house was dark and shadowy, but my eyes had no trouble seeing. And for a long moment, I simply hung there one-handed, gazing into the small room, cataloguing and memorizing each and every piece of furniture and all the accompanying paraphernalia.

Because it was her room.

Or her old one, at least.

I instantly knew it from the small bed over in the corner, still draped in various girlish shades of purple and lavender, but more so, I knew it from the entire wall of nothing but floor to ceiling shelves – bookshelves, though judging by the dust patterns, long since cleared of their inhabitants – a reminder of that day I'd stumbled upon her in the library in Seattle.

It almost made me smile to know that I had at least something in common with this strange human who hated me and yet who still compelled me to behave like a madman.

That almost-smile vanished faster than I could blink, however, because one other thing told me the space was – or had been – hers.

The room still… smelled like her.

Without thinking, driven by the vicious, blood-thirsty predator within, I sucked in a mouthful of that stale but still oh-so-decadent air. Even outside the room, despite the house having been vacant for God only knew how long, it was stronger – more concentrated – than the library or the classroom. The pure, unadulterated scent of her poured out through the open window and hit me like a wrecking ball. With only that one gulp, my throat instantly seized with a rush of fire so intense that I nearly lost my grip.

Wood snapped and crunched when my fingers dug in to prevent my fall.

Momentarily blind-sided, barely in the here and now, that baser, animal half of me clamored and roared, begging to chase her down to eat – to devour and literally consume her in the vilest and most violent of ways. Like every other time I'd allowed her perfume into my lungs, I wanted her blood like no other, so much so that despite the miles between us, I swore that I could hear the wet smack of her heart – that singsong mesmerizing cadence that said she was mine to have and possess.

With what little reason I had left, I shook my head, trying my damnedest to clear it. When my gaze swung left and settled, in the mirror across the room, a monster with feral black eyes and slick white teeth glared back at me, startling me into some kind of coherency better than any physical act I could have ever come up with. Spraying venom, I cursed myself twice, once for who I was and again for not thinking, and then clamped my mouth shut, locking the fire inside my chest to smolder and hopefully die out.

Having not been repeatedly exposed to the girl's – correction: Isabella's – wretchedly delicious fragrance over these last few days had apparently demolished what little restraint I'd built. As such, I argued – fine, rationalized – that thirsty animal side of me was at least understandable, if not deplorable. I was a vampire.

But I could work on that.

I could control it.

I had before, I contended, and it wasn't like I ever needed to breathe anyway.

As my sanity slowly returned and as my eyes scanned the room again, stopping once they hit that small bed in the corner, I began to recognize something else, however. Something confounding and infinitely worse than me wanting to kill her like the natural predator that I was.

See, there was that other half of me – the as of yet unaccounted for half.

You know, the side that didn't want to eat her at all.

And that was what really made me pause as I hung outside her bedroom. Because unlike the handful of minutes when I'd been in the girl's presence in class, I realized that that other – maybe new, maybe not… maybe truly insane – side of me just wanted climb through the window and bury my face in her pillow and wallow in that blasted scent all night, esophageal inferno be damned.

It was a disturbing sensation to say the least.

I blamed that asshole Jasper and his nonsensical lies.

Speaking of…

Edward! Jasper abruptly called out, interrupting my crazy-vampire introspection. There's a mutt on a motorcycle just outside town coming your way! Looks like he has some brown-headed girl on the back.

I froze when I saw the associated image, and there was another loud snap of wood beneath my fingers in response.

Not some brown-headed girl, I thought.

Get the hell out of there right now! he yelled in my head.

I didn't, of course.

Instead, with a quick swing, I vaulted inside the room.

Because… well, maybe being dismembered wasn't such a great impetus after all…

PROMPT #26?

We'll do this again in a couple of days :)