Dreads and Pi

There was only one good thing coming out of Paul imprinting on my sister. One. We didn't have to hide anything from Rachel.

The Day of the Really Ear-piercing Appalling Deed, or D.R.E.A.D as I liked to call it, it had been a pure nightmare trying to get Paul to leave. He stayed after all the other guests had gone, being all lovey-dovey with Rachel in the living room while dad and I exchanged dark scowls.

During the evening, Dad pulled him off to the side to talk to him for a about twenty minutes or so. Unfortunately, I had to distract Rachel in the meantime for her not to get suspicious, so I have no idea what dad said to Paul but I certainly hoped he warned him profoundly. Dad was well aware of what imprinting meant, and it wasn't his favorite smalltalk-subject either. When Paul finally left that night, he and Rachel exchanged endless promises and mutual joy over meeting each other the next day. Rachel had already accepted my muttered apology about my behavior earlier (I suspected she'd spoken to Charlie and gotten his human version, and that she thought it was really cute).

So Paul left, leaving Rachel in seventh heaven like a particularly giggly fourteen year old ( I had to lay the whole night listening to her whispered phone call to Becca, as she repeated over and over how great Paul was, how mysterious, how cool and most importantly, how hot. I was in my room making faint gurgling noises, considering whether or not to vomit).

Sometime the next day, between endless walks on the beach, whispered words and secretive kisses that made me want to cut my ears off, he told her. Everything. Crash bang boom schmacadoo and then she knew. The secret was out of the box, wolf out of the bag, leech out of the mansion.

I made sure I wasn't around at the moment.

Next time I saw Rach, she was walking around in the house with a poorly disguised hickey on her neck, wearing a knowing expression because now she knew, something she couldn't even tell Becca, and it was major. Like, huge. She wanted to have a long, hairy, how-does-it-really-feel-like-to-be-a-werewolf conversation, followed by a does-Paul-think-about-me-as-much-as-I-think-about-him conversation, ending in a isn't-this-wonderful-don't-worry-it-will-probably-happen-with-you-too-some-day monologue.

By this time I'd shut my ears and refused to say another word, vowing to myself to introduce her to Emily as soon as possible.

For the pack, this didn't really make a whole lot of difference. Sam didn't have a problem with it. This didn't really affect him much, except he was happy that Emily was happy, because she would get someone else to confide in. And he felt a little sheepish when it came to Leah, of course, as this was ripping up old wounds, and Leah wasn't particularly overjoyed about imprinted couples in general - Sam always felt sheepish towards Leah. Also, he was a little annoyed to have more issues to deal with pack-wise, as both Paul and I would have less abilities to concentrate now. Paul would be broadcasting images of my sisters' underwear and I would be lunging myself at him whenever he was within reach in attempt to pulverize his nose or tear his head off. Other than that, no biggie.

Dad had fled the house, and it was beginning to look permanent. Paul had altered his ways, as the norm was for the i-people, and his center of attention was now purely my sister. This was something my dad was fully aware of. He was also aware it was permanent, and by that also break-up proof. He was also quickly becoming aware of the consuming amount of attention the two of them were willing to provide each other, and that said attention wasn't necessarily something a father would want to hover around for. Rachel considered herself a grown and independent woman, who could do what she liked with whomever she liked. From previous experience, dad knew forcing a stubborn daughter to see reason wasn't very effective - at least it hadn't been with Becca - and so dad went for the theory better inside in private than outside in public.

It wasn't that he disliked Paul; he had been just as polite towards Paul as he'd always been towards Bella. I knew dad wasn't thrilled that this had happened to Rach though, but I knew he'd get used to it quickly – he'd already lost one daughter. At least Rach would be staying now.

So when Paul started regularly appearing at the door just after dad had finished his morning coffee , dad explored his newfound abilities at excuse-making. Going to Sue's, going to Charlie's, going to his doctor, going to the store, going fishing, going to the neighbor, going to Charlie's, going fishing … (I knew for a fact that he was hiding out over at the Clearwater's most of the time.)

He would barely manage to get out of the house before the smooching and wooing started, and with dad gone, the living room was an open battlefield for tonsil hockey and other un-sisterly activities. This gave me no option but to flee either, as both Paul and my sister seemed to forget how the wolf-gene also included better hearing (I did not leave the house with a light heart, as I knew that when I came back no surface would be safe).

So I fled to Bella's house whenever I could, making Charlie shake his head and roll his eyes. He thought I was being ridiculous, and I'd overheard him gossip about it with dad (the traitor) over the phone. Charlie was convinced I'd ´get over it´when I realized things weren't this ´black and white` (dad was being suspiciously neutral, hmm-ing and mmm-ing a lot, finishing with a ´sure, sure´. Still traitor.)

It was exactly one week after the Day of the Deed, and I was over at Bella's. After doing the laundry and discovering one of Paul's boxer briefs in the hamper, I'd fled the house faster than dad was able to mumble `excuse` and was now lounging in Bella's bed watching her fold socks.

"And the worst part is," I said, ending a long tirade where I was systematically pouring my heart out. "There's no way to make it stop. It's not going to end when he leaves to work, or when she goes back to school, because she wont, or when he screws up and she dumps him, because she wont and he wont either. This is just how it's going to be from now on. Paul and Rach. Wooing in the living room. Always. Every day. Ever. I'm banned from my own home."

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a little?" Bella said, searching in the pool of black socks to find two that would fit, her lip twitching slightly as she smiled to herself.

"No."

"Not even a little?" she pressed, picking up two promising candidates before putting one of them back down.

"Definitely not."

Bella sent me a quick smile, the warmth in her eyes making my stomach prickle. I reached out to stroke a finger down her shoulder, making her smile widen.

Since we'd argued that day when it happened, (which by the way must be the best fight in history since Bella ended up saying she loved me and we had sex three times the following day, at her place, my place, and in the garage), we hadn't spoken of imprinting at all. We had only talked about Rachel and Paul a lot. Talked as in I would complain loudly, call Paul very suitable and well-deserved names, Charlie would roll his eyes and phone dad, Bella would laugh and shake her head, or maybe pat my cheek jokingly. But we only spoke of them as if my sister had just gotten a very annoying new boyfriend, a new crush, a new … whatever. We didn't speak of it as imprinting. Which it was.

Since that fight, I hadn't brought it up and neither had she. I think this was mostly because of the conversation she'd had with Leah, a conversation they both still refused profoundly to tell me about, dammit. I was deeply suspecting that Leah had been bashing out my deepest secrets and embarrassing Bella-fantasies to Bella herself. This was absolutely horrifying of course, but on the other hand Bella seemed a lot happier now. Though sometimes, when she would get thoughtful, her lips tightened and I knew she was thinking about the imprinting-issue after all. This really bothered me, but I hadn't spoken to her about it yet.

"What were you and Leah talking about?" I asked her for the five hundred and thirty second time. My plan was to ask this question until she got so annoyed she exploded and spilled it all, but so far Bella was only annoyingly calm.

"That's none of you business," she told me kindly without even looking up from the ocean of socks in front of her. She also got that tiny smirk on her face, the slight twitching of lips that meant she knew something I didn't, and that it was something she liked very much. My brain was practically squirming with curiosity, and also a tiny little feeling of uneasiness. Who knows what Leah had been bashing out? It could be anything.

"Bells, come on. You have to tell me sometime," I pressed.

"Nope."

"Please?"

"I'm not going to tell you," she said calmly, still smiling that smile, while folding another pair.

I sighed heavily and poked her in the side. She only smiled that smile again, and picked up another sock.

"I'm not Rachel, you know," she reminded me. "That ask-until-she's-going-crazy thing doesn't work with me."

Huh. She was probably on to something there, but no way I was admitting it.

"Nothing is going to piss Rachel off anymore now," I grumbled to myself, as this brought my mind back to our previous subject. I stared up at the ceiling. "Oh no, not anymore. She's in love." I groaned. "Damn Paul. Can I move in here? I can sleep in your chest of drawers."

"Yeah," Bella said, "I'd like that. Though I'll get a little offended if you'd rather sleep next to my socks than me."

It took me a second.

"Really?" My head snapped up from the bedspread, and I turned to look up at her. She only kept folding socks in a steady rhythm.

"Yeah, I admit that would be a little disturbing," she said. "I would get all jealous on my socks. Which would be kind of weird."

"No," I waved her off. "Can I sleep here? Charlie's cool with that?"

"I'll talk to him," she said simply.

I felt a cheesy smile plaster up on my face, and she laughed. We sat in silence for a few moments, as she finished folding the socks.

"What did you and Leah talk about?" I whispered, knowing I wouldn't get an answer.

"Nothing," she insisted with a smile, and smacked my shoulder with the sock she was holding.

I grinned at her, sighed, and rested my head to the side. I knew she'd give me a hard time, but I'd find out eventually. Right now, I was content just laying like this next to her as she folded socks. Now and then Bella took time to run her fingertips lazily through my hair. I was feeling a bit drowsy.

There was something I knew we should talk about. Something I wanted to tell her. Something I needed to let her know. And this might just be the best moment to do it. It was something that I'd been thinking about for a while, and she should know. It wasn't bad, it was nice, I think. Though it wasn't exactly the thing to just plunge out with over the dinner table. I wanted to do it smoothly, as so little else I'd done so far. And I had no idea how to begin.

This was no dinner table, though.

I was debating to myself whether I should say something or just leave it for another time, when Bella took the problem straight out of my hands without even knowing it.

"I like your hair," she said, as she ran her fingers through my hair once again. All the socks were folded now, and were laying neatly in a laundry basket by the end of the bed. "It's getting long. You need a haircut soon."

So easy. Just like that, and then not. It was so easy to see where this could be headed, and then also I could just drop it as it was and not say anything. But this might just be the best opportunity I'd get. Bella dragged her fingertips through my hair once again, playing with it.

"I was thinking..." I started, but then paused before plunging in it anyway. "I was thinking maybe not cutting it."

I tilted my head up to the side and measured her expression closely. She smiled, a little puzzled and dragged her hand through my hair once again.

"Do you mean, like, long?" she clarified.

"Would you mind?" Not that I thought she would, but ...

"No, not at all," she frowned. "I just... wouldn't that be uncomfortable? Isn't there a reason why you cut it when you phase?"

Just like that. So easy.

"Yeah," I said slowly and deliberately. "It is."

There was a brief silence.

"Then wouldn't you be running around with fur reaching the ground?" Bella asked. She sniggered. "You would be like a gigantic Bearded Collie. That can't be very practical."

I easily ignored her comparison between me and a collie - I mean, come on – and instead watched the tip of my own finger as I stroked down her arm.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to do that," I said quietly. "Maybe I wouldn't need fur anymore at all."

I looked up at her, letting my words sink in. I knew it the moment she got it, but she still frowned as if not quite believing what I'd just said.

"I- what do you mean?" she finally said.

I smiled at her puzzled face, and decided to put it simple. "I've been thinking. And when all this is over – I'll stop phasing."

She only stared at me for a bunch of long seconds. Then she frowned slightly. "Why?" she asked carefully.

"Just -" I moved my gaze back to my finger on her arm, moving upwards this time. "Because I want to go back to having a normal life again. And I want to go to college, which is kind of problematic when you change into a giant, hairy furball every other day, and because there's not really any need for it anymore with all the vamps gone, and I never really wanted it either; I don't want to be alpha, even if I should, and -" I turned to look at her, grinning slightly, "-because that means I can get on with my life and grow old and get wrinkly with you - you cant be the only one who gets wrinkly, that would be weird and kinda pedophiliac. And also-" I looked back down at my hand, "because that will make imprinting impossible."

I thought back to see if I'd left something out. Nope, that seemed to be about it.

Bella seemed speechless for a few seconds. That usually happened after someone saying the word "imprint".

"Wow," she finally said, after a long moment where our breaths and heartbeats were the only sound in the room. "You think you can do it, just like that?"

"Maybe," I said, thinking about Leah. "After a while. With some practice."

We didn't speak for a long time after that. Bella seemed to be in deep thought beside me, and I let her think. I listened to the vague sounds of running water and Charlie walking around in the kitchen downstairs. It didn't take long until I became drowsy again.

It had been quiet for several minutes when Bella broke the silence. "What do you mean when you said you don't want to be alpha?"

I looked at her, and she was frowning slightly, the familiar v back between her eyebrows. Oh, right. I'd never told her about that before. How Sam wasn't really the one supposed to lead the pack – it was me. So I told her this in quiet words as I listened to Charlie clunking around downstairs. I explained both about how I had better control than the others, how that probably would make this all easier for me, and how I probably should have taken Sam's place but declined.

"It's just not for me," I finished. "I never wanted to lead."

Bella looked at me for a long time, a weird look upon her face.

"Chief Jacob," she whispered, as if testing the words on her tongue.

I snorted. Loudly. "Oh, shut up."

She only grinned at me. "Does this mean I'll be older than you again?" Her eyes glinted a little as if she was just about to burst out a 'Hah!' and then roll over laughing mischievously.

I only raised one eyebrow at her expression, and the slight smile I saw there.

"You'll never get older than me," I said. "After all, my age of skill and knowhow is legendary."

She tipped all the socks over my head in reply.

I stayed with her the rest of the day, and I was surprised when she actually spoke to Charlie about me spending the night. And, not so surprisingly, Charlie got all bothered and squirming when she did. He huffed and puffed a little before finally agreeing that as long as I came and went through the front door, (this made me squirm a little, but more out of guilt than anything else) it was fine. Bella was blushing profoundly all the time, and throughout the whole conversation they both made sure they were looking anywhere but at each other as if both of them were suddenly finding the yellow kitchen cabinets extremely interesting. The whole thing was pretty hilarious.

I regretted it soon enough though. Later that night, after we'd said goodnight to (a still bothered and huffing) Charlie and climbed the stairs to barricade ourselves in Bella's room, the result of my own suggestion hit me.

"Oh man," I groaned, and flopped down on her bed. Her tiny, tiny bed. "I forgot your bed is only half as big as mine is."

Bella only laughed at me and flopped down beside me. "Get used to it."

Some comfort, huh.

I gave up trying to get myself to fit, and just slung my feet over the edge. They'd just have to hang there for now. We lay there quietly for a few moments, listening to the night-sounds through the open window and the muffled sounds from the TV downstairs. Bella hadn't asked more about the phasing-issue, nor had she mentioned it again. I suspected she was still getting used to the thought. But when I'd watched her smile and the glow in her eyes, I also suspected that she liked it a little.

"I called Edward today," Bella said then, breaking the bright pink bubble where my thoughts were buzzing. Out of the blue, just like that. Just making nice bedtime conversation, not even realizing what topic she'd dragged in like a slug on the carpet. My jaw tightened for a second.

"You did?" I muttered through clenched teeth. How nice.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "He said they are leaving tomorrow. I'm going over there to say goodbye."

My jaw de-clenced. Clenched again, de-clenched. They were leaving. Tomorrow. Now. No time. Finally. I took a deep breath, and decided that dancing a victory dance right now would probably make Charlie quite a bit more than bothered if he was to hear bumping from upstairs.

"Okay," I said. Completely chill. No biggie. Breathe. Relax. Don't grin too much. No dancing. Just pretend like nothing. Chill. Cool. Uh huh. I could do this. "Want me to come with you?"

Even my voice was steady and not overly thrilled. Man, I was good at this.

"Sure," Bella said.

"Okay."

Smooth, Black. Breathe. Pretend like nothing. Cool. Just stay cool.

Bella looked up at me, her eyes glinting. "You don't have to do that."

Uh oh. "Do what?" I said innocently.

"Pretending you don't want to do a victory dance."

I stared at her. What was happening to the world? They were all turning psychic, the whole bunch of them.

"Man, how did you know that?" I asked her, stunned and a little timid.

She flashed me a grin then. "You're not very hard to read."

And then she leaned over and kissed me, and if I'd wanted to make a victory dance before, now I wanted to make a Broadway Show. We kissed, and it quickly became frenzied and clumsy. Her hands started roaming, and I put my hands on her hips to pull her closer. Listening closely to make sure Charlie was still safely downstairs watching sports with the sound turned on – and loudly - I then put him as far out of my mind I could possibly manage. I didn't really think much at all really. Bella started nudging my shirt, and my brain died completely.

Like if they were following a command from someone else, my hands grabbed her around the hip and lifted her over to lay down beside me on the bed. She touched her lips to my ear and my heart started flapping uncontrollably in my rib cage. Bella pulled at my jeans.

We were exceptionally quiet. Or, as quiet as one can be when one haven't been alone with their girlfriend, (like, alone,) for more than a little eternity (four days equals eternity). I knew the only reason she didn't freak out and throw me out of the window was because her dad was far away in the other side of the house, busy watching sports with the sound on (I repeat, loudly), and because she relied on my better hearing to catch it if something would happen. And of course, I was being exceptionally good at being quiet. As quiet as one can be after a four day eternity. That had to count for something.

Her bed was too small and squeaky, so again the floor became the solution. She buried herself in blankets and giggled a lot, pardon-me-for-trying-to-be-quiet, and our previously clumsy touches were definitely becoming more familiar and way more successful by now. By the time she had undone my jeans and made quick business out of anything called boxer shorts, I was already declared technically brain dead for the fifth time.

"Man- Err, Bells, when you do that...oh cra- uhm, that's not a good – ughm – idea."

She was running her hands up and down in certain ways, wrapped around certain places, giggling, stroking, kissing, teasing and making my head swim. No wait, making my head drown. My head couldn't swim. It was drowning brilliantly.

"Be quiet," she giggled, in a particularly unbellaish way. She had obviously no plans to throw me a life jacket anytime soon.

"Urrg- that's a – ughm – bad – oh sweet mother of – idea."

She only kissed me, breathing heavily, her breath fanning over my cheek as she blissfully ignored my stuttering advise.

"Shush," she whispered again, touching her lip with one finger in a disturbingly hot way which really didn't help the matter.

Her hands were cold against my heated skin, she was naked and had hair falling down her front, she was teasing and giggling and I was trying my very best to be quiet. But the floor didn't squeak, and the blankets were soft, and she was softer and it had been four days.

My brain was long lost, but that really didn't matter. I didn't need it. She was above me, and she was buckling her hips and in not long I had to remind her to be quiet a bit more than four times, which by the way was boosting my ego enormously. Her hair slipped over her shoulder and down her back as she moved, and I desperately tried to find out what the square root of pi was to keep my concentration in check. We kept it up for a while. Not until the blankets were wrinkled and I had to cover her mouth with my hand to keep her noises down, did the world break into several tiny pieces as pi went to hell and I to heaven.

Believe it or not, we had been silent. I did listen, when we lay down - as in fell in a heap on the floor on top of the scrunchy blankets - but the house was exactly like ever before. Charlie was still muttering words to the players on the screen, sound on and loud. I took a moment to praise the brilliant invention of recaps.

Bella turned to look at me, resting her chin on my chest. She smiled widely, her breath still uneven. I pushed her hair away from her face as it was sticking to her damp forehead. She looked so happy and peaceful and so hazy I was sure she'd spill all her secrets without a second thought if I asked her.

Wait a sec.

"Hey Bells?" I whispered softly.

"Mhm?" she said in a very drowsy, slightly drunk and postcoital sounding way. Piece of cake.

"What did you and Leah talk about?"

I looked down at her as innocently as I could, my toes curling in mischief. She looked at up me for a few seconds, and then her lips curled up. Just like that way they always curled now, when she knew something I didn't and she loved it.

"None of your business."

Dammit.

A.N:

As always, a huge thank you goes to JJ Twi1ight for multilingual beta-work, and also to you who reviewed.

We are approaching the end, and you might already sense what is coming... If not, I've made a big business out of bribing people (shamelessly), and this is no exception. You review me, I spoil thee ;)