36. I would keep myself

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

Sam's Momma headed off to visit some other friends. He insisted on going to see Charlie immediately and Bella needed some clothes, he argued. He had collected her truck when he got the coffee and milk, so it was parked at his house. She drove and he looked out the window. He looked relaxed and comfortable; his knee folded up on the seat. He was actually wearing a shirt and had found a pair of shoes somewhere.

She kept glancing at him in amazement.

"What?" he asked.

"You're happy," she stated.

He smiled at her. "Yes, yes I am." He stopped for a minute as if he was thinking about what he wanted to say. "I've got… hope, now. I am thinking about my future… about our future. I've got plans and ideas and … dreams," he confessed.

There was a silence for a few minutes. "Haven't had any of that for a long time."

She smiled.

"And you are part of those plans," he added. "And you are coming back with me."

"You sure? It's kind of sudden; no time for you to be on your own. In your house."

"I know what I want," he almost growled.

She just raised an eyebrow.

She thought about how much he had dealt with in the last eighteen months. He had phased alone, spent two weeks in the forest and then come back. He had been forced into an unsuitable relationship; he had hurt the woman he did love. But he hadn't complained. He had just endured. He was a stoic. He had just dealt with the cards life had dealt him, with patience and endurance during periods of adversity.

He had carefully ushered each new wolf through their first phase. He had straightened out Paul; the rez delinquent. He had watched and worried about Embry, Jake and Quil; even if they hadn't recognised his presence as vigilance at the time. He had been supportive and thoughtful when the Clearwaters had phased at the worst possible time. He had guided the pack through battles against the undead. He had made good decisions, even if the pack boys whined about him being heavy handed with the alpha orders. He had done more patrols than anyone else. He had never asked them to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself.

And the whole time he had known that this position was only temporary. He was just holding the throne for Jake. And he had still done the best he possibly could for his pack and his people.

He had also found the time and the conscience, to care about a desperate, heartbroken girl. He had shepherded her through her re-emergence, just as skilfully as he looked after his new pack members. He had stopped her throwing herself from a cliff. He had saved her from a vampire.

And he had healed her heart, by giving her his. As if it replaced the one that Edward had torn out and taken with him when he left.

And he was only twenty. What on earth could he achieve, if he really put his mind to it?

And he was hers. It just blew her away. She loved him and he was hers.

He wouldn't let her be there when he spoke to Charlie. She gave up arguing and went upstairs to pack. She tried to listen in, at the top of the stairs, but he told her to go back into her room and shut the door. There was a silence. "Please Bells," Sam called.

"Fine!" she huffed loudly. She had tried slamming the door and staying at the top of the stairs to listen in, but he had known she was there, of course.

By the time she came down the stairs with her bag packed, she fully expected to have to fight Charlie. She was astounded to see him and Sam shaking hands.

"…and think about the deputy job, Sam. I mean, I know you have a lot on your plate right now but you'd make a great deputy. Just promise me you'll think about it."

Charlie looked over his daughter with the eye of a father who knows his daughter has finally grown up.

"Sam says he will send some guys over with your truck to collect any bigger pieces you want from your room."

"I put all my school books on the desk; they just need to go in a box as well."

Charlie gave a kind of embarrassed throat clear. "I hear you don't have much furniture… if there was anything you wanted, you could take it. Or anything from the garage." He shrugged. Clearly the rez gossip had spread to Forks.

"Can I take my bed?" she asked him and he nodded.

Sam took her suitcase out of her hand and excused himself. She thrust her hands into her pockets and said, "So…" she stopped. She had no idea how to have this conversation.

"You're going to live with him."

"Yes." She nodded.

"You're eighteen and I can't stop you, if that's what you wanted. He's a good man. I've always liked Sam Uley. But it is kind of sudden," he suggested.

"I've liked him… since that night… when he found me."

"Ah," said Charlie.

"I only realised recently. After Paul and I broke up. He doesn't have a lot of money, not like…" she shrugged. She didn't need to say the name.

"Money isn't everything. But he has a good heart and a good head. That's a fine combination. You'll be all right."

She blinked. She didn't want to cry. "I-I'll just be at La Push," she mumbled. "You're out there all the time…"

"True, and now I'll have somewhere else to make myself a nuisance at." Charlie chuckled. And then he frowned suddenly. "Did she take the TV?" he asked.

"I-I don't think Sam ever had one… but we could put it on the wish list."

"Humph. No television…" he mumbled.

"You know I will feed you whenever you need it," she suggested.

Charlie guffawed. "If you just added 'and do your laundry' … you'd have the speech most parents give their kid when they move out."

She smiled at him, then impulsively flung her arms around him and hugged him. "I love you, dad."

"Love you too, kiddo. Now you let Sam look after you."

"Sure, sure Dad."

"Sam says he'll make sure you study for your final exams. And I expect to escort you to The Lodge for a graduation dinner. Both of you, of course. Now you have taken it pretty easy recently, but now you need to get a job and think about some other study. Get your future together, young lady," he chided.

"Absolutely, Dad. Things to do," she said. It struck her that Sam had said that he had hope now, but so did she. She hadn't been planning for her future for a long time. She had just been existing; as much as Sam had been.

"I'll have my phone if you need to contact me," she told Charlie. "And the phone is on at the house too."

He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the truck. She blinked the tears away rapidly.

"You drove out, let me drive back," Sam suggested as he lifted the truck keys out her hand. He could probably smell her tears.

She let him. After a safe distance, she lay down on the bench seat and put her cheek on Sam's thigh. She felt his big hand on the top of her head and she cried. His hand didn't move but just the weight of it was a comfort.

When she had finished she wiped her face on the back of her hand and sat up again.

He just watched her. He didn't ask, but she knew what he would be worried about; her.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "Just… emotional."

"Right."

"He told me to let you look after me," she said.

"I heard."

"Like I'm a runt or something," she grizzled.

"Shadow thought you were the runt of your litter," he said with a smile.

"He did not!"

"That was his argument for why we had to look after you. I told him there was only one in your litter. He thought you were too little to look after yourself."

"I look after myself just fine," she blustered. "Although you and Shadow did a great job of looking after me too," she conceded. She had to give them that.

"Thanks."

"Humph." She looked out the window for a while.

"Runts survive," she said. "Wilbur was a runt."

"Charlotte's Web Wilbur?"

"Yeah… and Babe. He was a runt."

She thought a little more. "And Clifford the big red Dog. And look how big he got."

Sam just chuckled. "Sure, sure. All fictional runts."

"Pfft," she said. "Behave yourself or I won't give you a blowjob while you're driving."

"Jesus!" he nearly swerved off the road. And he actually sat up straighter in his seat. He glanced at her. "You serious?"

She just nodded. "Watch the road, Sam."

He squirmed in his seat. She lay back down on the seat and slid her hand up the inside of his thigh and inside the leg of his shorts and grasped him firmly. She had noticed earlier that he had put on nice shorts instead of his usual ragged leg cut offs; for Charlie, she assumed. They were a little baggier around the thighs.

"Commando… nice."

"Fuck, Bells," he groaned.

"The road, Sam."

"Sure, sure."

She carefully undid his shorts and pulled him out. She hadn't tried this before, but she knew what she was doing. And she got the impression that if all Emily did was missionary, then she probably didn't do anything else either. Not that she would ask him; she didn't want to remind him of her.

He was already hard and twitching. "Keep an eye out for Deputy Steve," she told him. And then she wrapped her lips around him. He jumped in his seat. She sank down onto him as far as she could.

"Oh fuck… oh fuck…"

She kept her tongue flat and swirled it around the underside of his cock.

"Oh Jesus, I can't…"

She heard the engine note of the truck change and then she heard gravel under the tires. He had pulled off to the side of the road. She lifted her head off him. He looked desperate. He slid across a little closer to her and gave her more room. She didn't have to battle the steering wheel now. She slid gratefully to her knees on the floor of the truck and bent over him again. He let his knees fall open, to give her room.

She licked over the weeping head. She felt his hand on her head again. So heavy and so warm. She closed her eyes and sucked him into her mouth. She kept her lips as tight as she could and pulled her head back; compressing his length.

"Fuuuck."

He was really leaking now; too excited. And he was rocking a little. She tongued under the glans on the head; pushing her tongue against the notch.

"Soon," he warned her.

She gave him a tongue swirl around the head and then she sank down onto him and sucked hard.

"Oh yes…" he groaned.

She blew out around him and then sucked again and she felt the first jet hit the back of her throat. She concentrated on just swallowing. His hand pushed her head down now. Another spurt. Another swallow. He let out a long guttural groan and she gave him a final suck before she lifted her head. He released her as he felt her push against his hand, and she let him slide out of her mouth. She looked up at him.

"Oh, Bells."

"I owed you," she said.

"Really? You mean every time… you'll pay me back?" he sounded astonished.

"Of course."

"C'mere."

She scrambled off the floor and into his lap. He kissed her. And wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her in against him almost hard enough to hurt.

"We need to get home, Sam."

"Home… yeah… home."

He kissed her again and then let her go. Then he lifted his hips and redid his trousers; tucking himself away.

888888888

The pack boys brought her bed over with much joking and ribbing of Paul because they swore the mattress smelled like him. Charlie had thrown in her wardrobe as well as a spare couch she was sure she had never seen before.

Sam was an early riser and he made sure she was up and fed before school.

They had sex in every room.

Over the next few days, people kept showing up at the house and leaving stuff. An extra bookcase, a kitchen chair, a side table, a chest of drawers, a few mismatched plates or glasses. There was always a garbled explanation of how they didn't need it and how Sam had helped them some time past and they had never really said 'thanks'.

Bella was astounded and not, at the same time. She was unsurprised that Sam had quietly helped people; that didn't surprise her at all.

She thanked them profusely, swore to each that she would find a use for the item. And she did. They had the most mismatched house of furniture she had ever seen, but it somehow worked. It wasn't perfect, but it was real and that made it so much better in her eyes.

They repainted the walls a sunny yellow colour. Sam held her on his shoulders to reach a high part. She dripped paint on him and then they got more paint on each other and had to shower and then the brushes dried out while they were distracted.

She painted all the mismatched wooden chairs in glossy shiny paint; a nice bright orange.

They played music and danced in their new painted house; well, Sam carried her and he danced and she just went along for the ride. She had missed music. She hadn't realised just how much.

FF_2154210_ - 26/10/2011 03:50:00 AM