"Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love. How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity." –Albert Einstein

'Advice' from Quil & A Talk with Embry

After bolting out of the house, (there are things a little brother just does not need to hear), I made it to Embry and Quil's place in ten minutes. They're renting the place from Jared's Uncle Jeb, who just got back together with his wife, and has a "spare house" for them to rent.

I let myself in, (we are family), and make my way into the living room. Both Quil and Embry are concentrating on the TV and I plop myself down on a couch and see what has them so interested.

"Francine! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry daddy, I didn't mean to lie."

"Why didn't you tell me your bike wasn't stolen? I thought you liked it."

"Well, the thing is daddy…"

Arthur? They're watching Arthur? "Seriously?" I ask in disbelief. They both jump, not having noticed that I was there.

Embry quickly finds the remote and changes the channel to some sports channel before spewing out some excuse, "Lost the remote, um, too tired to look for it…"

I roll my eyes and look at Quil, getting ready for his excuse. He looks at me and shrugs. "What can I say? Claire got me hooked. Buster is her favorite," he smiles.

I shake my head and laugh, no wonder Quil imprinted on Claire: he's a kid himself. In a silent agreement, we all turn to the TV and watch sports, pretending that it never happened. As I'm watching the highlights on how the New York Giants slaughtered the Red Skins, Embry clears his throat and asks me, "So, what's up man? Was there a sock on the house doorknob?" he smirks.

Ass. "No, there wasn't any type of warning," I shake my head forlornly.

That seemed to get their attention and they rushed over to my side, "What did you see? What did you see?!" Quil squeals uncontrollably.

After taking in a shaky breath, I look up and whisper, "It was horrible. Horrible!"

Embry and Quil start to mother me and rub my back while murmuring things like, "Shh, you're okay, you're okay," and, "Just take deep breaths, okay? Deep breaths," coaxing me to talk.

After a few minutes I tell them everything; how I ran to the Cullen's only to be tortured for information (I had to ham it up or else I would be ridiculed for spilling the beans for, well, ever), the amazing car ride home, which was ruined my catching my mom and Charlie play a completely different version of 'cop and robber,' then stopping off to my room for a nap only to wake up starving, then losing my appetite when seeing Leah and Jake making out on our kitchen counter (where I eat!) across the fridge (where I keep my food!). By the end of it, both of my pack brothers are sitting on the couch processing what I just told them.

"We live in perverted times my friend," Embry announces.

I fervently nod in agreement, "I don't think I can survive seeing another Mom/Charlie or Jake/Leah session of them getting ready to 'do the do.'"

Quil shrugs and suggests a solution. "Well, to avoid another awkward situation, you could always do the old school thing."

We both look at him, waiting for an answer. Understanding that he won't say anything until we ask him, (jackass), I ask, "What?"

He smiles, happy that I'm playing along. "Write them a letter." We look at him like he's lost all his marbles, which he probably has.

He looks at us incredulously. "What? My grandpa said it would work."

I cross my arms over my chest and cock an eyebrow, what is it with him always asking Old Quil for advice? He's Old Quil, his advice isn't always sound. He's the guy who said that computers were not the future, and that typewriters would last forever. I shake my head, clearly unimpressed by his plan and ask, "And what exactly am I supposed to say?"

Embry pretends to write a letter and narrates, "'Dear Jake, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from shoving your tongue down my sister's throat in, on, or around anything that I may touch, eat, sleep, or grew up on. Much appreciated. Your buddy, Seth Clearwater.'"

Quil shakes his head annoyed. "That solves nothing."

I nod; that solves nothing at all. Who sends letters anyways? Besides Old Quil and, apparently, Quil.

Embry looks at us and nods before adding onto his narrated letter, "'P.S. If you hurt my sister, after she's done kicking your ass, I'll kill you.' There, it solves everything now."

Quil and I whip pillows at him.

Embry laughs and shakes his head, "Where the hell did we find you, Quil?"

Quil beams. "I was Mrs. Connolly's star pupil and –"

"Pfft, she made you the door greeter," Embry interrupts. "I don't think that job translated into "star pupil." And when did you learn what the word "pupil" meant anyways?"

"Funny story, actually. So I was home and grandpa Quil gave me a Thesaurus for my birthday—yeah, some present. But, it actually came in handy because Justine, Claire's mom called and said that when I'm watching Claire to only watch educational stuff so that she can expand her vocabulary, not that Claire isn't smart. Anyways, after her call, I started to look up some words in the Thesaurus, you know, to use bigger words with Claire-Bear to expand her vocabulary…" Quil ranted. After four minutes, Embry turns the TV back on. Eight minutes later, he's still talking about Claire. If we don't stop him soon, he'll go on, and on, and on, and on all day.

"Quil?" I interrupt.

He looks at me, startled, clearly having forgotten that there are other people here and answers, "Yeah?"

"How the hell does this have anything to do with Jake and my sister?"

Quil blinks a couple times. "Well…" He thinks about it for a couple seconds before saying, "I guess it doesn't." Then he starts back up again on Claire-Bear topics.

This is going to be one long-ass day.

After lunch, we order a couple pizzas (three and a half each, no leftovers), and Quil, thankfully, settles down enough to relax on the couch where, like Claire, he takes his afternoon nap.

"Oh thank god," Embry whisper-exclaims.

I look at him and smile, "I thought he'd never shut up."

He nods. "Yeah, he never does. Did you know that he talks in his sleep?"

I laugh. "No! He does not! That's hilarious."

Embry smiles. "Yeah, except when you're trying to sleep and your super-wolf hearing amplifies every snore, every mumbled sentence…everything."

"How do you deal with it?"

Smirking, Embry says, "I slip him cough medicine in his nightly juice. Just enough to konk him out for a full eight hours. He'll still mumble occasionally, but they aren't full-blown conversations. Plus, I always have a back-up plan: earplugs."

I laugh, quickly stifling it so I don't wake up Quil.

Embry turns down the volume on the TV and leans towards me. "Listen, I get how you're worried about Leah. When my mom started dating, it was tough. Every single guy that came by, I just wanted to beat them, make them know that they can't hurt her; that it's not allowed. That if they ever hurt her, that the next time I see them, they won't survive."

I stare at Embry with respect. We all knew he and his mom were having problems since he phased. He would be gone for hours at a time, patrolling, and Mrs. Call would be worried out of her mind, assuming that Embry was out doing drugs, or worse. It's just the two of them, so trust is a big issue. Since he couldn't go up and tell her, 'Hey mom, the reason that I'm out of the house so often is because I can morph into a gigantic, hairy beast. Don't worry; I don't kill people, just vampires. I'm here to keep you safe. Now, I best be off, I have to patrol the area to ensure your safety. Toodles!' he had to lie. It wasn't until Mom 'accidentally' let it slip to Mrs. Call (She actually drove over to Embry's and said, "Morning Abigail, just thought that you should know our tribe's legends are true and that your son can morph into a wolf. That's the reason he's always sneaking out; he's protecting La Push. Don't be too hard on the boy; it's been very hard on him. Oh, look at the time, I best be off. See you at the next bonfire!" and drove home. When she told me and Leah what she did, we had no choice but to call Jake and Embry so that they could calm down a hysteric Abigail Call) that her son was a wolf that things got better for them.

Embry sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that you need to have a talk with Jake. No need for threats, no violence, just an honest talk. He knows what happened that last time Leah got her heart broken, he knows how hard it was for you, and for Sue to see her like that. Just, talk to him. You know him; you've been inside his head. You know he loves her, you just have to let your fears go about losing Leah and talk to him."

I mull over what Embry said. Am I afraid of losing Leah? I know that after Sam broke her heart that she wasn't the same. She was meaner, crueler, bitter, and upset. Leah's always been sarcastic with her biting comments, but it was different after the whole Sam/Emily triangle. Her comments wouldn't be teasing, but out to intentionally hurt and insult people. There wasn't that glint in her eye when she called me "Doofus," letting me know that she was just having fun. Then we phased and Dad died…I thought that the Old Leah would never come back. Her comments got worse, she lashed out at everybody and anybody, making sure that she hit where it would hurt the most. When Jake made his own pack things got better. Leah's comments weren't as harsh, and the old glint in her eye came back when she would poke fun at us. She began to smile and laugh again, looking like pre-Sam Leah.

Am I afraid of losing the pre-disaster Leah that just came back to us?

Yes.

But, Jake went through the same thing. He lost Bella, his mom, and both of his sisters who wanted more than what La Push could offer. When Bella got pregnant, they helped each other. They talked and bonded, even though they both thought I didn't notice, talking about their heartbreaks and how they both 'could do so much better' than Isabella Swan-I-like-my-men-cold-dead-and-sparkly-Cullen and Sam Levi-"Oh my god you're done already?"-"That wasn't even two minutes"-"Ow, that's my hair"-"Seriously?"-"Are you done yet, I'm tired"-"That's it?"-I-like-my-women-to-share-the-same-gene-pool-Uley.

He's my Alpha, my buddy. He knows how much Leah means to me, how much I love her (Even though I will vehemently deny it I she asks… It's what we do).

I look over at Embry, (he's a genius), and smile. "You're way too smart to be living with Quil," I tell him.

He sighs and nods, "I know, I know."

"I'm going to talk to him tomorrow," I tell him. "I don't think I can stand to talk to Jake after what I saw today." I cringe at the memory of our poor, defiled kitchen, not to mention our couch!

"Good plan."

I get up and find a pen and search through old flyers for a sheet of paper.

"What are you doing?" Embry asks, not taking his eyes off of the TV.

"Writing a letter," I say just as I find a sheet of paper. Success!

"To who?" Embry asks with a laugh.

"Charlie Swan," I tell him as I begin to write.

Dear Charlie,

I would appreciate it if you would refrain from shoving your tongue down my Mom's throat in, on, or around anything that I may touch, eat, sleep, or grew up on. Much appreciated,

- Seth Clearwater

P.S. Stay away from my bed at all times.

.

Disclaimer: All of the characters, concepts, and anything affiliated with the Twilight saga belong to (their rightful owner) Stephanie Meyer. The rest of the work belongs to me and should not be copied in any way, including translations, without my explicit consent.

Major thanks to Flyaway Dove for Beta-ing this.