(Disclaimer-I've no ownage.)

Could you imagine if bella was reincarnated as a GUY? that would be funny as hell! so i created another fanfiction.
yeah, you guessed it, bella is reborn as a DUDE in my new story MAN-BELLA! you should definitely go read it.
its not exactly a one-shot, because theres more than just one chapter, but its pretty amusing. GO READ IT!
SERIOUSLY! but first, read this.
so this also took a while to be put up. i'm sorry about that. it seems i'll be adding chapters
every weekend, rather than during the weekdays. sorry about that. i'll try to squeeze chapters in during
the week if i can, but i have a lot of homework. so yeah, it kind of sucks that i only received two reviews for
the last one. i don't know whether you guys just have a lot of stuff to do now that summer is done for, or
if you just thought the whole kyle thing was kind of lame. i'd still like to know what you think of it, and i hope
that you all didn't just completely lose interest in this. the kyle-situation may sound a little dumb, but i can
assure it isn't as ridiculous as it sounds. so please keep reading. and heres another chapter.
its longer, but if you DON'T like how long my chapters have been, PLEASE tell me, and i'll shorten them up
a bit. anyway. please leave reviews, and enjoy.

Dancing with Wolves

The auburn wolf carried me back onto the road—where I'd all but crashed his car in my reckless hurry—in his human form. He kept his black eyes linked with mine, and I could see the trillions of questions waiting for me just beyond them, in the depthless seas of his mind. I knew he wouldn't ask nonetheless, and it made me as happy as possible in my current, sad situation that I didn't have to warn him I wasn't in the mood for talking. He could just tell that conversing wasn't on my agenda for the moment, and he bequeathed me the silence I was looking for.

Not one word had been spoken since he'd found me in the middle of the circled field, bent over myself like a weeping child who'd just lost her dog. He'd just pawed off into the woods again, dragging his pants behind him. When he came back, he'd simply lifted me off the ground like a cotton-ball and cradled me all the way through the woods, letting me continue to sob for the puppy I couldn't find.

But I wasn't a child, and I shouldn't have been crying, and I hadn't lost my dog. In all the absurd honesty of the world, my dog had lost me.

And found me again in the fetal position.

I liked the feel of Jacob's warm arms spread around me like a heated coat. That's what he felt like to me, warm and cozy, midnight fire. His eyes were dark as coals, his flesh hot as flame. He was like a walking, breathing hearth—or at the very least, a char-grill. Or, if we were to substitute his eyes for dark chocolate, his toothy grin—which he didn't seem to be willing to show at the moment—could stand in for the marshmallow, and then we'd have ourselves a Smore—though his skin didn't really resemble that of a graham cracker. We'd make do, however.

I kept on like this, thinking of all the possible things I could make him out to be, as he dragged me onto the passenger seat of the car and belted me. It was better to think foolish, childish thoughts than to focus on what had just happened. Jacob didn't need to see me melting down again.

Melting. Melting like the tense atmosphere when Kyle held me. Melting like the calm when he went away. What was it that had me so clouded when he was near?

I shook my head at the thought, trying not to focus on it. I'd already done my share of loosening grips on thoughts I didn't want to think about today. This I would store away in the cobwebbed corner of my head, snap it away in the file labeled Next Time. There was no way I would bring myself to come to terms with it now.

It. Because that was what Kyle suddenly was. An It. What was he?

It was almost humorous—in a dark way—that my mind seemed to find loop-holes in each one of my non-related thoughts and bring them back to Kyle. It'd always done that to me, for as long as I could remember—which may or may not have been two hundred years. That muscle in my head was a tricky one, always digging up what I tried to bury, shoving it in my face like a despised surprise birthday cake for my very last birthday. It'd be nice for once to just be able to blow out the candles and walk away from it, but such things were impossible.

As were humans being able to have that kind of affect on someone.

What in the hell was he?!

"Bells?" Jacob's voice snapped me like a twig, right out of my spinning thoughts. We were parked on the side of the road still, the key sitting awkwardly in his hand. A great deal of effort was obviously put into keeping his face straight, voice even, but I could tell by the way he kept averting his eyes that he was mad with worry.

"Jake?" I replied, voice just as cool. His mouth slid a bit to the right, but the gesture never touched his eyes. Nothing did, they were smooth and empty as glass. I panicked, trying not to consider that he might be taking me back to the mental hospital. As much as I tried, though, I also failed horribly. I was sure Edward had told Jake everything he knew about my new life. Maybe that'd been a mistake, telling Edward about my new life in the first place.

"You okay enough to talk about it?"

"No."

"Well, that sucks." He grinned without humor, probably just to ease whatever anger he feared the words would cause me. "Look, I know it sucks, finding out you're wrong about stuff. I don't want you to think you've gotta sit out here alone, though. I might not get it totally, 'cuz I've never died before, but you can still tell me things. I'm waiting on a description of those dreams still, too, you know." He nudged my hand gently with his, trying to stir a reaction. I met his eyes.

"You think I'm upset about my memory." I watched him carefully as he nodded, a little perplexed. My head was swimming like I'd swallowed down two whole containers of Nyquil. My voice was as flat as the line on the heart monitor that'd signaled my death.

"Aren't you?"

"Didn't you smell him?" My eyebrows twitched over my eyes, joining. I felt my pulse quicken while Jake jerked his eyes around from left to right, surveying the area around the car. The fresh coating of panic in my voice had alarmed him, and he was looking for the source of my fear.

He should have smelled him. He must have smelled him. He'd pranced over in his fur-coat only three minutes after Kyle's retreat. Jacob—being a wolf—had a great sense of smell, one that could sniff things out from a mile away. He would have smelled him.

"Who? Smell who, Bella?" His panic matched mine—was mine. It seemed my moods were rubbing off on him a lot lately.

I made myself breathe. I didn't want to get him worked up for no reason. Maybe he'd smelled Kyle after all, and had thought him only a hiker with no connection at all to me. There was no need for him to remember such a thing, not if he'd thought the scent just a trivial passerby on a trail. No need to worry.

But there was still a thick line of distress in my throat that caked all my words.

"Did you smell anyone? Anyone at all. A hunter, a hiker…anything?" My desperate words were met only with confusion and a shake of his head. He peered out into the distance as I began to hyperventilate, his fingers clutching mine.

"What? What is it, Bells? Who?"

"Him. Him…Kyle." I finally managed to get out the name, and felt a little sliding unease roll down the length of my spine. I could still taste that bittersweet serenity on my tongue—the taste of him. It made my heart hop in my chest—terrified little leaps that only made breathing evenly so much more difficult.

"Who is Kyle?"

"The guy that drove me here."

"I thought you drove yourself? Wait. Someone else was driving my car?"

I sighed heavily, pinching at the bridge of my nose to calm myself. There was too much confusion, too much that I hadn't told him yet. He needed to know the story, though I wasn't ready to be the storyteller now. I bit at my lip, irritated.

"No. I'm talking about when I came here to Washington."

Jake sent me a long, quiet look. I knew that he was trying to see if I'd allow him the information he wanted, or if it would just be better to keep his mouth shut.

"Oh." He said.

I took a swig of air, trying to call upon the last bit of courage my tired body held so I could tell him. He watched me as I did this, turning slightly in his seat like a little boy waiting for his bedtime story. The urge to run for it came over me like an electric shock to every one of my muscles, and I tensed, readying myself for escape.

But I couldn't run away from Jacob. Why would I want to?

I didn't understand what was happening to me, why I was always so nervous and distrusting. Ever since my Houdini act at the hospital, I'd been running from everything. It was like flight was my only reaction now—to every single thing in the world.

I was getting to be like Victoria.

I shuddered, locking the door to the car so I couldn't get out. Then I turned to him, and I told him everything from start to finish. Even the dreams.

--

"You came back to me." Jacob gloated when I'd finished my tale. The smile I'd wanted earlier was big and pronounced on his pretty lips, a twinkle furrowing its way into the black of his eyes. He was pleased to know that in my dream it had been him I'd turned to, him I'd chosen. He also thought my portrayal of losing the baby—and him—was my memory trying to remind me of them, of the end of my life. But neither of us could figure out why I'd thought I was shot—or the battle with Tanya and Irina.

"I didn't know if you'd still want me when you came back." He said suddenly. I flipped my eyes back in his direction, startled out of my musing, at the tone of his voice. It was casual and calm, slightly teasing, but I could hear the seriousness behind it. "But I guess it's cool, though, that you did—in your dream, anyway."

I blinked, seeing where he was headed with this.

"Not only my dream, but reality, too."

"You told me you're not sure what reality is anymore."

I shook my head. "No. I don't know what happened in the past, I'm confused what my reality was. But I know what it is." I held our tangled fingers up in front of him, giving his palm a gentle squeeze for emphasis. "This is real. These feelings…they're real. I've dreamt of you for as long as I can remember, Jake—"

"Not just me. Batboy, too."

"Batboy?"

"Bat, like a vampire turns into a bat. I've taken to calling him that."

"Well then, yes. And even Billy and Charlie and Alice. But you're the one I wanted most. You're the reason I broke out of that…horrible place. I needed to find you. So don't even start this with me. If I didn't want you, I wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, two out of the three you mentioned are dead now. So I guess it's only me, Edward, and Alice now, isn't it?" The edge of his voice was cold when he said the words, and I tried to remind myself not to let them sink in too deep. He was hurt, that was it. He missed his father, and he didn't believe me. I knew that I still cared for Edward, and so did he. But I'd not made it so obvious as for Jake to be worried.

He swallowed hard, pulling his fingers from mine and staring at the steering wheel. "That was uncalled for." He murmured, anger draining from his voice. His eyes were narrowed, aimed on the hand he placed against the horn. "Sorry." He said to it. I just shook my head.

"I get why you said it. You miss him. There's no need to be sorry."

"No need to be sorry?" His head rocked back as he pivoted in his seat to face me. The earlier fury was back in his voice and more forceful than ever. Clamping his teeth shut, he breathed deeply through his nose. His eyes were so filled with rage I was surprised they didn't turn red.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jacob looked away from me, hiding his face. He seemed to think better of it, though, because he abruptly faced me once again. His eyes held mine with a searching determination, his shaking fingers the only sign of his previous temper. I braced for whatever was coming—and there surely was something coming. I could see it in his face.

"What is it, Jacob?" I whispered.

"You talk about him when you're sleeping." The way he said it made it sound so innocent, like any normal topic of conversation—casual, nonchalant, almost matter-of-fact. It sounded nothing like an accusation, but somehow it managed to morph into something condemning when I played it back in my head.

I stared at him, horrified and filled with regret. What had he heard? My breath failed to find me, and my hand shook over his. I couldn't understand how it even got there. The warmth of his skin was blown away by the icy fist gripping my stomach.

"You say things like you love him, you miss him. Can't live without him. You said that only once, though. Just one time. So it's probably nothing." He shook his head fractionally, both of us hearing the persuasive tone in his voice. He was trying hard to convince himself he was right, that it was nothing. His eyes still held mine, watching me. They were blank and cool, dead.

Something stuck in my throat.

"Last night, I came into the room when you were sleeping. I was trying to pretend it was back the way it used to be, back when you would sleep in my bed. Tried to forget you'd died, that anything had changed. The pain stays with me, though. This little twisted knife stuck all in my chest. Then I see you dying there on the hospital bed, hear the line go flat just when I walk in to save you." He snorted once without humor. I sat in silence.

"And so I freaked. I grabbed you outta the bed and held you on the floor with me last night. Just sat there watching you, keeping you warm. Every time I see your face now, I see that dead-white one that stared up at me, lifeless in that hospital. When you died, I wasn't there. I wasn't holding your hand; I wasn't telling you I loved you. I was out in the hall pitying myself. I wasted time. Now I can't stand to think of wasting a second without you."

His hand fell away from underneath mine.

"But you want him. You want Edward, don't you?"

"No." The whisper made no sound, but he saw it on my lips.

A bitter grin twisted his mouth, a show of sarcasm, and he snorted again. "When I held you in my arms, I kissed your hand. You were so pretty, lying there sleeping. Then you said his name. I touched you, and you said his name. Not mine. His. Edward. You said 'I love you Edward. More than anything.'"

My lip quivered and my eyes stung. I leaned in toward him, and he leaned away. My chest rose and fell awkwardly, bowing me with the severity of my pain. Jacob, poor Jacob. I'd never meant to hurt him. This always happened. I always hurt him. It was so stupid and obnoxious and tedious. I hated it, yet it seemed so very inevitable, like it was my very duty on this earth to bring him misery. I didn't want to be the one to hurt him like that. I didn't want to be stuck in an everlasting replay of a game called Kill-Jake.

"No, no." My voice was thick with tears. The words were almost completely incomprehensible. His eyes tightened. "No, not more than anything. Not more than you. Please." I reached for him again, hooking my hand around his arm, trying to pull him to me. His fingers ripped mine away from him and he tossed my arm back, flinging open the car door.

"You're still mine." He said angrily, pacing in a small circle. He sounded mad, but his eyes were packed with hurt. "You're mine. You married me, and you're mine. I have your ring still." Jacob's voice shook as he stood by the car door, looking in at me. There was so much vulnerability on his face, so much agony that I couldn't even think of being irritated by his claim. He didn't think of me as property. I knew him well enough to understand that. He was trying to tell himself he wouldn't lose me again.

"I'm yours." I repeated, nodding. "I love you. Jacob, you're mine, and I love you."

He sat back down in the car, sucked dry of his anger, looking weary and weathered. I could see the years beginning to take place in his eyes, see wisdom and centuries of heartache in the deep brown of them. I dropped my face into his side, exhausted as he was.

But I wouldn't sleep. Not until I knew I wouldn't hurt him with my unconscious babble. How would I be able to tell, though, when the words would be spared from my mouth in the middle of the night? Already now I felt whole with Jacob, felt everything for Jacob. He was the one I wanted. So why was I dreaming of Edward?

I sighed, pressed my hand into the fire of his forearm and waited for him to speak. He simply pulled me closer to him, wrapping both of his arms around my waist and tugging me into his lap and over onto the backseat. Wiping quietly at my eyes, I thought of what he'd said about me being his wife. Obviously something must've been done to have led to our marriage. But what could've possibly happened? How could I have so quickly gone from engaged to Edward to married to Jake?

"Sorry, Bells." Jacob muttered above my head. His chin moved against my hair with the motion of his words, his fingers drawing soothing lines down my cheek.

"Me, too. I don't know why I said that last night. I really do—"

"Love him, too. I get that you love me. But you love him, too."

I sighed into his chest, rolling my eyes. It felt like I'd been through this conversation a thousand times with him, though I knew that this was the first time in over two hundred years. It was difficult to be patient, though. I knew that he would forever be the one I wanted, but he had to believe it for himself. Frustration was unavoidable, seeing as I'd just gotten him to believe that I loved him in my dream. It was a long and monotonous—not to mention hurtful—process just to get Dream-Jake to trust that I wasn't going anywhere. Now here I was having to get Real-Jake to believe me all over again, right back at square one, smack-dab in the middle of reality.

This was one part of my dream I didn't want to have to live through a second time. The rest I could deal with—even the death and the battle with the vampire sisters. I was just utterly tired of hurting Jacob, especially now that there wasn't even really any second-guessing like there was when I was unconscious.

In the dream, I'd not been entirely sure. But I knew better now than to remain sitting on the fence. I had to choose a side. I had to choose Jacob.

"Bells?"

"What?"

"Who is Kyle again?"

I laughed dully, a tired amusement, and sluggishly twisted my face to look at him. I'd forgotten to explain about Kyle when I'd told Jacob my story. Actually, I'd almost forgotten Kyle completely until he brought him up.

A subtle shiver shook me.

"Er, you know how I said I hitchhiked to get here?" I asked. He nodded at me. "Well, Kyle was my ride. He was sweet and warm and not at all vampire-like, but then today…" I trailed off, staring into space, the scenes of my earlier experience with Kyle running around in my head.

"You like this guy." Jacob commented, nodding, watching my expression. My face hardened.

No! I groaned internally. Why was it that Jacob always understood everything I'd never even said to him? He knew me so well that it was beginning to be a little dangerous—detrimental for our health. The very last thing I needed was Jacob worrying about me running off with Kyle, too. This was ridiculous.

Mentally, I kicked myself in the face.

Jacob smirked. "Yup." He said smugly, watching me with a sort of half-glum satisfaction. Apparently he'd taken my irritated silence as a confirmation. His dark eyes brightened when they took in my frustration, and he grinned at me, nuzzling my neck with his face. I shrugged him off.

Angry and annoyed, I rolled down into the foot space right in front of the backseat, letting myself just sprawl out and fill the legroom there. He raised one lone black eyebrow at me as I settled in on his feet. "Havin' fun down there?"

"Yup." I said, mocking his smug tone. He grinned widely.

"So continue. He seemed all normal and then today…?"

"I don't know. I mean, at first, there was only paranoia. I knew that something was off the second he stepped into the meadow. I'd never felt so suspicious of him before, so…wary. He'd always been so kind and trustworthy before, completely comfortable to be around. But there was just this thing about him today, something I couldn't pinpoint.

"He walked into the meadow with a smirk on his face, told me he'd hoped to catch a glimpse of me while he was hiking through the area. It sounded convincing, but I didn't trust it. Then when he hugged me, I kind of persuaded myself to remember all the nice things he'd done for me…and I made myself stop being so paranoid.

"And then the entire situation reversed.

"I was no longer suspicious or on edge. I was back to being completely comfortable around him again—only ten thousand times more comfortable. I don't know what happened. It was like some kind of trance where I was trapped inside of this horrible…calm. Like he'd stripped me of everything but that serenity. And it felt like we were floating." I paused, glancing at Jacob, and saw the expression on his face.

"No, no. I know it sounds like some corny exaggeration of some weird love thing. But that's not what I meant. It wasn't all sweet and perfect. It was horribly perfect and peaceful, like I couldn't escape it. I could feel the bud of fear in my stomach, and I could tell that something was off, but the thoughts were muddled, like I couldn't access them…couldn't process the danger while he was touching me. And when we…well, we…" I stopped. How could I tell Jake that we'd kissed? How would Jacob respond to that?

I froze on top of Jacob's feet, staring stone-like at his face. I'd just walked myself straight into a self-assembled trap.

"When you what?"

I continued to stare.

"What, Bella? When you what?" He blinked, and then his face went blank with surprise. "Oh. You kissed him." His voice was subdued, careful, and a little bleak. We stared at each other for a moment before anyone said anything. Then he wiggled his foot under my back.

"Bells," He started. I watched him carefully, looking for signs of distress. He hadn't had much of a reaction, and I expected something more. My stomach was in knots trying to process the thoughts not showing on his face. "Bella. Get up." His toe nudged me softly.

"Why?" Where did he want me to go? Was he going to take me back to Houston? To Edward? Were we going to go find Kyle? I worked hard to steady my breath.

"My feet are falling asleep."

"Oh." I sighed in relief, sitting up. Jacob leaned over, grabbing my elbows in both hands, and lifted me onto his lap, wiggling his toes to wake them up. I watched them, wondering how infatuated you had to be with a person before you started thinking their feet were pretty, too. I must have been head-over-heels, because I didn't think they were too gross at all.

I chuckled halfheartedly at my odd thoughts, glancing back up at his face, and gasped, shocked at what I saw there.

Jacob's lips landed on mine with a warm and heady passion, sending me into a state of frenzied-shock. Liquid flame seemed to pour out of his lips as they moved against mine, sending beams of golden sunlight throughout my entire bloodstream. I could feel the fire shoot through me, searing all the way from my lips to my fingers and toes, burning every inch of my flesh, encasing my heart in a red-hot flame.

I was on fire. A scorching, beautiful, russet fire.

When he pulled away from me, my lids slipped closed and I fell back against the car door, breath clinging to my lips rather than leaving them. My eyes wouldn't open all the way. I felt foolish and giddy.

"So. Who's the better kisser, Bells? Me, or that pansy Kyle?"

I grinned sleepily, trying to get my hand to reach for him. He found it struggling, and grabbed a hold of me, dragging me back into his chest. "I'm gunna say Kyle, actually. You're lacking a little in originality."

He snorted, flicking the side of my head. "Jerk. You have no right to say that with the way you fell back grinning over there."

"What?" I objected, looking at him. "I was not smiling."

Chuckling, he threw his head back. "Yeah, okay. I wish I'd've had a camera for that one. You're completely infatuated with me, Bells. But don't be embarrassed or anything. It's perfectly understandable." He winked, leaning in to kiss my cheekbone.

"You sure as hell think highly of yourself." I muttered sarcastically, smiling a little. I could feel the fresh blush burning my cheeks, and it embarrassed me. I shook my head at my own foolishness.

"Seems you're pretty into me, too."

"Whatever, idiot. Take me home."

"Home." He beamed. "Nice to have you back, Bells."

And he kissed me again.