*A/N: Forgive my tardiness. I lost a family friend due to death and then I lost my best friend soon after. There was simply no joy in breathing for awhile; air singeing my lungs every time I took a breath without my best friend. It burned so much I didn't even want to look at my writing.

I know I'm being dramatic, but when you have been best friends with someone since junior high and inseparable til now, you are allowed to be theatrical.

Anyways, this story is rated MA for a reason. So I'd like to continue with this story despite the long absence, even though people may not like it, regardless of what tomorrow might bring for me while in my travels between two jobs, school, and reckless driving to parties, concerts, and gigs to forget him.

Thanks for those of you who sent well-wishes, and continued to read & review while I took a step back. I sincerely hope you enjoy this long over-due chapter.

So to my best friend, my freak, to my Hellboy, my creep, this is for you.

Chapter Summary: Bella reacts badly, at first, to the news of Paul not being fully honest with her the night before, and learns the hard way that old wounds do eventually heal. Paul becomes fed up with keeping his anger in check while living in the house, but Bella surprises him with a bold move of her own, and out of tragedy, something better emerges.

Chapter IX: 'Creep,' by Radiohead

PPOV

My cock woke me up the following morning; it was as simple as that.

The rush of blood to its head had it pulsating so hard that when it bumped my inner thigh, I almost wrenched myself out of Bella's hold for fear that someone else had touched me.

Bella.

I forced my eyes open, wiping away the sleep that had almost nailed them shut, but I did not remove my arms from around her waist. I inhaled air, taking a part of her scent with it. I tried to think of the sweetest thing I'd ever smelled in the morning and fell short. Nothing could take the place of her. I wished that my fingers could be a part of her skin so that I wouldn't ever have to let her go.

With that thought, it throbbed again, thumping itself against the harsh material of my jeans from the night before, still waiting for me to either let it out to breathe or to relieve. I wasn't sure just yet on which I would allow myself to do. But I did know one thing.

I had gotten to hold Bella last night.

I sighed, feeling deeply indebted to her kind soul for letting me even touch her. Of course, all along my plan had been to keep her in my arms, but when Newton wouldn't move, I had to take action. I had to let 'the marshmallow' know that I was the one who was supposed to hold Bella that night, and if he thought that he was going to get any further with her than he had, I was going to phase in the living room. If he had succeeded in stopping me from holding her, I was going to rip him apart because that had been my only intention. All I wanted to do was hold her, nothing more.

Well…maybe more.

What more could I have done? For over a week I had been sleeping restlessly and last night was the only time I had felt peace. Bella was not safe unless she was in my arms; that much I had felt. That much, I had known.

I heard Bella moan, grabbing my attention. "Paul? Paul, you are in such big trouble," she announced in a sleepy voice.

I grinned. I had heard everything she said last night. Well, everything until I had fallen asleep for real. At least she hadn't kicked me off the couch.

"God, you're hot. Let me go," Bella continued, her eyes half closed. She turned herself away a little but I kept my body over her, wanting the moment to last a little longer. I gently nudged her with my chin. "You're horrible. Go away," she muttered, playfully reaching back to swat me with her hand. I stared at her lips and advanced closer to her somewhat sleeping form, more than tempted to feel her mouth on me just once before she awoke for good and tore into me for behaving so poorly last night. I still wouldn't have changed a thing that I did even though I had upset her; she belonged with me.

Suddenly my nose twitched, picking up a scent that I knew too well. Fuckin' figures. My back tensed with a horrible but welcoming sensation down to the tip of my spine, readying my body to phase if he moved another inch or said one word that I didn't like. A deep and steady growl emerged from my tightly pursed mouth, waking Bella fully.

"Paul, what's the matter?" She rubbed her eyes and looked at me, but now I was focused on the huge figure standing in the front doorway. Another pair of eyes stared back at me, narrowed and angry, and he was just as pissed as I was; I could feel it. One clear bead hung from Jacob's chin and I promised myself that before that small bit of sweat would hit the living room's hardwood floor, I would phase and pulverize Jacob into the next room.

Bella turned her head a little and relaxed, almost. "Jacob, what's wrong? Why are you standing like that?"

Jacob's arms were at his sides and his jaw was rigid, making all the muscles of his face age him at least ten years, but if he made a move, I would make sure that he wouldn't live another ten minutes.

I spoke first. "You need to take it easy, little prince."

Jacob still hadn't moved, but still I kept one of my arms over Bella's body. I would never have phased so close to her. My plan was to flip the couch, forcing her to move to the other side of the living room while I took care of Jacob.

"What were you doing with your arms around Bella?" Jacob demanded.

So that was his problem. He didn't like me touching Bella. Well that was too bad; she was mine.

Bella shook her head, suddenly realizing what Jacob may have been implicating. "We were sleeping. That's all," she assured him.

My ears picked up on the rhythm of her semi-calm heartbeat, and I allowed my fingers to relax a bit. If she wasn't worried, then neither was I.

The Prince squinted his eyes at me. I almost laughed at the pup trying to look fierce. "He wasn't sleeping," Jacob insisted.

"I just woke up," I tried replying back as nonchalantly as I could, but in truth, my heart was racing and my breath was a ragged rant. Jacob's jaw set into a firm line as Bella continued to be oblivious to the situation.

"He fell asleep during a movie last night and I just fell asleep with him. Nothing happened." She moved a little and I blocked her with my body. Jacob's eyes widened again before he shouldered his weight to his left. His heel arched up and as a reflex, I stepped closer not wanting to back down from a fight; normally, if I could push back an opponent and distract him for a second, then that moment would be all I needed to phase. Or at least swipe at him with my paw.

Jacob saw me draw closer, but upon realizing the close proximity of Bella and myself, met my rigid stance with crossed arms and threw in a glare, for kicks I surmised. I, however, almost wet myself to keep from laughing.

"Ooohh," I said in ridicule, "He's standing like Sam. I'd better watch out."

Bella turned to me and put her hand on my neck. My anger diminished at almost the exact instant her slightly cool fingertips made contact with my searing flesh. "Paul, let me up," she requested.

I kept my feelings at bay, having to work past my wanting to keep her close by. She got up and walked over to Jacob, much to my internal dismay, who grabbed her lightly by the wrist.

"Bella," Jacob began tersely, "you have no idea how worried I was when I saw you two together like that."

"Jeez, Jacob." Bella blushed at his interpretation. "All my clothes are on anyway," she insisted politely. "Nothing happened."

I cringed; she didn't even sound like she wanted something to happen. I felt disappointed again and angry that I had let my wants get the better of me. Bella was just starting to see me as a friend. There was no way she could want me for anything else now.

Jacob looked at me again and I forced a cocky smile. The little prince didn't need to know that I was really breaking inside from my imprint's refusal of an intimate relationship. I would just have to be patient a little while longer. After last night, I had hope. It was better than we had been a week ago at least.

"Paul probably copped a feel through your clothes," Jacob determined.

"Jacob!" Bella's face flustered more into a reddish-purple color, resembling the shade of a bruised plum. "That is not what happened! Tell him, Paul." Her doe eyes beckoned toward me. "Tell him that you only fell asleep; we both did. Tell him."

Words hung like steel in my throat. Tell him what? I wondered, trying to keep the look of panic off my face. Tell him that I wanted you? Tell him that the only reason I acted so nastily was just so I could hold you undisturbed for a night? I wasn't going to say shit, I resolved.

"Damn, Jacob," I said, forcing another grin. "Any reason why you have to sell me out? You don't need to tell her everything about me."

I watched Bella's expression turn, anger taking over her face and I felt mine weigh heavy with guilt that I tried to convey in my eyes, but she didn't see it. I saw her body coming toward me, my arms still at my sides. I did not block her nor did I flinch as her hand snapped back and whipped across my face with pretty decent speed. As I said, I didn't shy away. My head barely moved.

But I did hear the bones in her hand break.

"OW! Ow, that hurts!" Bella bawled as she clutched her hand.

"Bella!" Jacob ran to her, catching her before her knees hit the floor. I stood there, still feeling ashamed that I hadn't been able to just say what I really wanted to say. I watched her holding her hand, swelling immediately in seconds and she glared back at me in fury. I shook my head.

"Told you you would break your hand," was all I dared to say.

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Jacob grabbed her, hoisting her up and I fought the urge to tell him not to touch her. "I'm taking her to the hospital!" Jacob shouted at me. "This is all your fault."

I folded my lower lip for a second before replying back a response. "I'll grab her coat."

"No!" She screamed out, backing closer into Jacob and away from me. Why am I always getting yelled at? "Don't come near me. I can't believe you, I just can't," she repeated.

A tremble ripped through my left shoulder. "I warned you—"

"I should have known that was all you wanted. I thought we were actually becoming friends," Bella interrupted. "I thought I was beginning to understand you and then you stand there and admit that all you wanted was to put your hand up my shirt!" she continued to rant.

I gulped and compelled the next few words out of my mouth. Words that made the old Paul seem a little closer than she had hoped. "It worked, didn't it?"

Bella's face fell further and she turned into Jacob's body. "Please take me away from him."

"You got it," Jacob obliged. "Come on, we'll go to the ER."

I watched them leave and didn't move from the spot where I stood until several minutes had gone. When Bella's truck finally pulled out of the driveway, I layed back down on the couch to place my head where I had been holding Bella not that long ago. FUCK!

BPOV

At the hospital

"I can't believe I was so stupid. So stupid," I reiterated to Jacob as the silent nurse continued to wrap my hand. Nurse Hawthorne hadn't needed to say much anyway; I was a regular to the ER.

Jacob nodded. "It's okay. That's just how Paul is, you know," he said softly. "You want me to talk to Sam about getting him out of the house?"

"No. Now I want him to suffer in that house with me," I answered quickly, and then felt the need to explain as I watched his face turn in a small surprise. "I can't unleash him back onto unsuspecting girls and not feel badly about it later. He stays."

Then Jacob laughed. "Yeah, the girls on the rez were wondering where he was. They only see him at school and he's usually so wrapped up in himself that he doesn't pay nearly as much attention to them as he use to."

"They should feel blessed."

"I told you."

"Ever get tired of being right?" I snapped.

He shook his head, looking on proudly. "No. Do you ever get tired of being wrong?"

I pouted. Nurse Hawthorne smiled at Jacob and me and then left the room. I gently flexed my hand and winced from the pain. Paul really did have a hard head. "Next time, I am using a crowbar," I said matter-of-factly.

"For next time, that would be best," Jacob chuckled.

"He's really not that bad. I know he's not," I tried adding as casually as I could. "He does these things. These little things that I've never heard about him doing with anyone else. Jared doesn't even know where some of this stuff is coming from and he knows him best, right?"

Jacob shrugged. "I guess Jared knows him better than the rest of us. I don't really know. I don't spend my time wondering what Paul is thinking about. It's usually about a particular body part or two."

"But he's so…he just seems so unlike himself lately," I continued persistently. "When no one is around, he actually doesn't bug me as much. He's actually nice. He's even quiet sometimes and he stands there, watching me."

Jacob scoffed. "Watching you do what? Shower?"

"No," I paused. "Come to think of it, I haven't caught him doing anything illegal; no drinking, no smoking, no guests of his own except the pack. There hasn't been a single girl in my house, not a one. He leaves when I leave except when someone comes to relieve him and he goes where I go. He complains, but once we get there, he's fine. He asks questions, he bugs me a little bit, and then he gets quiet and watches me," I went on, without prompt. "It used to make me nervous but then I found that I like it. It's like his eyes see and make me feel like a movie star. I never felt anything like it."

Jacob arched an eyebrow. "So Bella Swan likes being peeped?"

"Not peeped. Just…appreciated, I guess," I said lamely. "I hate when people give me compliments; it makes me blush, but with Paul, he seems to know that and has still found a way to make me feel comfortable. Like last night when he was asleep, I was feeling a little weird that he was holding me but then he said something and my whole body just relaxed under him. It was absolutely like nothing I had ever heard before. It was one simple word—"

"What word?" Jacob interrupted, clearly upset.

I shrugged, placing my broken hand gently on my lap. "I don't know. It wasn't in English."

"Probably not. We're learning our native language in school. What did it sound like?" Jacob pressed.

"Like 'chung lee.' 'Chung lo?' Something like that."

"Don't know that word."

"Well, then it was definitely weirder. Something breathier maybe. Like instead of 'chung,' maybe it was 'chin?' Or 'kid?' Something with 'kid' the beginning? Come on, Jake." Now I was getting antsy.

"Hey, I wasn't there." Jacob began to sound agitated again, a small vein throbbing in his neck. "I know a word that's similar, but it's pronounced 'chid.' Not 'kid.'"

"That sounds right, but there was something at the end of it. What does that first word mean?"

"It means 'you.'"

"Okay, and there was an end part too. Something with an 'L' at the beginning. It was definitely like 'lee' sounding."

"'Lee?' Like 'li?' Did it sound like chidlɁi?"

"Yeah, I think so. Say it under your breath."

"Huh? Under my breath?" Jacob looked skeptical.

"Yeah, cause he sounded like he didn't want to say it. Like he really didn't want to admit to it. Say it under your breath," I repeated and then suddenly had an idea. "Wait; let me cover your mouth with my hand."

"Bella," Jacob's muffled voice sounded from under my good hand. I waited a few seconds while Jacob gave in, took a deep breath, and repeated "ChidlɁi."

I almost squealed, feeling embarrassingly too much like a girl. "That's it! That's the word, I think. What does it mean?"

Jacob sighed. "Paul would have to say some shit like that."

"What? Is it nasty?" I felt my optimism draining. It would not have surprised me a bit if Paul had been muttering an obscenity under his breath after all. "Is it a naughty word?" I asked, feeling almost ashamed that I still wanted—no, that I still needed to know what Paul had said.

My best friend shook his head a little at me. His brain was going to start rattling in there. "No," he admitted reluctantly, "but it's not true either if he's the one that said it." Jacob sat up straight, rubbing the back of his head as if he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. "He was never one for being owned or controlled by anyone so that's the part that's weird."

"What? I don't understand. What does it mean, Jake?" I asked again, feeling the edge of the cheap, plastic exam table. I even sat still so not to crinkle the wax paper my butt was sitting on. What is it, Jake? I screamed inside. What did Paul say?

"It means 'yours,'" Jacob said finally. "Simply 'I'm yours.'"

*A/N: Sorry to break the story here, but I just wanted to clarify that the Quileute word chidlɁi actually means 'you, I' but that was the closest I could get after researching it. However, for this story, let's pretend that it really means 'I'm yours.' Back to BPOV.

Jacob and I drove back in silence, but it was only because my hand had started to throb again and the pills were already beginning not to work. Jacob promised that he would see if he could find some natural remedies on the rez instead for me to take. I nodded eagerly and immediately after he offered, not even caring if I had to start licking the underside of a rock that had just been bathed in 'fire-water' to get the throbbing ache in my hand to stop.

"White man's medicine doesn't seem to work on you anymore since you've been hanging around a pack of La Push werewolves, huh?" Jacob joked.

I smiled lightly, perspiration already breaking my brow. We pulled in to the driveway and I glanced up, catching Paul's eye. He was waiting on the porch, without a shirt on, of course. I barely waited for Jacob to open the door to the truck before I stomped over to Paul.

Paul shifted from one foot to the other but his eyes met my glare. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"I broke my hand on your face," I retorted angrily. "What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Not my fault."

"Then whose is it?" I pressed. "Is it Jacob's fault?"

"No, it's yours. Day one, I told you not to break your hand on my face," he said stonily.

"The least you can do is apologize," I snapped.

Paul furrowed his eyebrows. "For what? You were the one who—"

I cut him off. "Alright, alright." I tapped my foot impatiently. "Don't consider getting out of this arrangement either. If you think I'm kicking you out of the house so you can enjoy your freedom and screw every girl you meet again, you have another thing coming. You're staying here anyway."

"I never said I was going," Paul answered back.

I looked at him, blinking.

Jacob marched forward, glaring at Paul. I had forgotten he was even there.

"That's right; you're going to stay here and take care of her until she can move her hand again," Jacob proceeded to order. "You're going to wait on her hand and foot. You're going to fluff her pillows, wash the dishes, whatever. You'll be writing out her homework, if you have to."

Paul smirked. "You're not Alpha yet, so you can't order me around."

"You will do it," he commanded again.

"Listen," Paul snarled, losing his grin, "I've got this much patience left—"

"Hey, be quiet, both of you," I stepped in, keeping my attention and eyes as best as I could on Jacob. "Paul is staying here and that's punishment enough for both of us. And Jake, don't worry about it, I'll manage by myself. Besides," I dropped my voice, "Paul is too selfish to care about anyone else but himself anyway."

I heard Paul's breathing change and I felt him pull the hem of my pants, making me face him. "I'll do it," he said, his voice scratchy.

"You'll do what?" I asked, unsure if I heard him correctly.

"I'll wash the dishes, do the beds, whatever," Paul said, clearing his voice. "I'll do your homework; you tell me what to write."

"What? Why?" I questioned, still unbelieving.

"I look good in a butler's uniform." He resumed his smile. "And out of one."

I groaned.

Some afternoons later…

"Bells!"

Before I could take my next breath, Jacob had me in one of his trademark bear hugs, with my feet dangling an inch or so off the floor. The front door was hanging open and the windy Forks rain rushed itself into the archway of the house.

Funny, I thought, Jacob must've run here in the rain but yet he was already dry. How could he have dried so fast? Must be a wolf-thing.

Nonetheless, I wasn't supernatural and Jacob's grip was too strong. "Jake," I choked out, "Could you let me down?"

I heard an audible scowl not too far behind me. Jacob's arms tightened around my body and I was powerless to counter it; I was officially gasping for air. "Ja—" I tried again before three tremors bounced off the walls and into the hallway.

"Let go of her, fuckin' idiot!" Paul roared. "You're crushing her!"

I felt myself drop, landing at an awkward angle on my ankle. I bit back a yelp and stared into Jacob's apologetic face.

"Oh Bells, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "I forgot. I was so happy to see you—"

"You just saw her yesterday," Paul interrupted. "Don't you have other duties?"

Jacob narrowed his eyes at Paul and stiffened. "Bella is my duty."

I nearly blushed when Paul took another step closer to Jacob, puffing out his chest.

"Swan is my duty now or have you forgotten?" Paul sneered.

"And look at what you did to her!" Jacob pointed at my arm still in a sling and I grimaced.

Paul glanced at me for a moment and jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. "I'm taking care of things," Paul defended.

Jacob snorted. "That's what worries me." His eyes hardened at his pack mate and stood taller, towering slightly over Paul; Paul didn't seem to care one way or the other. He didn't budge under Jake's scrutiny or his impending closeness. Not even when Jacob met him eyelash to eyelash apart. "Stand aside," he ordered. Paul smirked, barely acknowledging him. Jacob crossed the threshold, brushing past Paul anyway while tugging me a little behind him. "I'm making sure there are no more slip-ups."

Paul's nostrils flared threateningly, but he still kept an eerie leer on his face. "What did Sam say?" Paul asked openly, grinning even wider.

Jacob tensed, but his answer flowed easily. "I don't care what he said. Nothing else is going to happen to Bella under my watch."

"You mean under my watch," Paul ascertained.

Jacob waved his hand dismissively and sat on the couch. He patted the seat, urging me to sit next to him. I was starting to feel uncomfortable but moved to the back of the couch to meet him halfway. Paul practically leaped out of the hallway when he noticed Jacob getting more comfortable.

"Leave," Paul growled.

"Go walk yourself," Jacob countered back, nastily.

"Jake!" I gasped, surprised by his tone and knew with certainty that the word that he really wanted to use in that reply was not 'walk.'

"You've been coming by for the last two days," Paul whined insistently. "Why don't you have a life?"

"Paul—" I started.

"Bella is my life," Jacob answered.

I turned between the two, worrying who could hurt who would hurt who the worse. "Jake, please—"

"Swan's your duty. Swan's your life," Paul mocked. "I thought the life of the supposed next Alpha would be more glamorous. Even Sam takes a rest to go and see Emily."

"And I'm seeing Bella," Jacob argued.

"You're not seeing her! You're showing up to the house, unannounced and uninvited!" Paul yelled.

Jacob stood up."This isn't your house!"

"I live here too!" Paul smarted back.

"Don't remind me."

Paul bit his lip and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly, his skin glowing red. Jacob's hands started to make popping noises, his knuckles and joints cracking without his aide. I widened my eyes; I knew what was going to happen next. I ran around the couch to stop their inevitable phasing and banged my knee into one of the coffee tables. I yowled in pain, reaching for my hurt leg in vain, stretching with my wronged arm still in the sling.

"Bells, no!" Jacob immediately rushed to my aide while Paul chortled, now with a more relaxed stance.

"Bang up job there, Swan," Paul said, with more than a hint of laughter in his voice.

I saw the red outline of his massive body as I squeezed my eyes shut, connecting the multicolored motes that bounced around the darkness. "Oh, be quiet!" I replied through gritted teeth. "At least I stopped you two from phasing in my house."

Jacob kneeled; I almost whitened at the thought of Jacob preparing himself to propose, but he had only lowered himself to rub my knee. You should know better, Bella, I scolded myself. Jacob's not that nuts about you. I glanced up and witnessed a flash of something in Paul's eyes and I hastily took my knee back, hobbling backward and off-balance toward the couch. "Thanks, Jake," I said quickly and sat down. Jacob stayed on his knee, looking at me with searching eyes while Paul shook his head, as if trying to gather himself and his own thoughts together.

Suddenly the doorbell rang.

Jacob was the one who growled then and Paul sprinted to get the door. Jake was not far behind.

"Hey!" I called out after then to no avail; I twisted and tried to stand with my hurt knee and protect my sling arm from flailing too much as best as I could.

"What do you want?" I heard Paul bark, but I hadn't heard the door open.

"Oh, you're here again," a reply came back. The words sounded worse than the tone of the voice; the poor guy sounded intimidated.

"Never left, kid. Now what do you want?" Paul repeated.

"Yeah," Jacob joined. "What do you want?"

I could imagine the image of Mike stepping back to take in both Quileute boys who were secretly werewolves and protectors of Forks perfectly. If I hadn't known of their secret abilities, they might have freaked me out too. "Supernatural jocks," I muttered to myself.

"Is—is Bella here?" Mike stammered. "The door was open and-and I just wanted to make sure—"

Paul and Jacob laughed mockingly, interrupting him. "What's it to you?" Jacob asked.

I heard papers flutter as I continued to walk, awkwardly, and as fast as I could without hurting myself even more, to the front door.

"Home—homework—for the past couple days," Mike's voice stated, straining to make a desperate attempt to be even at the end…and nearly pulling it off. "You know, be—because of her hand? Her homework!" he insisted again.

"Really?" Paul asked. "Lemme see that—Ooops!"

I finally came up almost behind my two protectors and watched a few loose-leaf sheets fall to the wet ground. I wanted to give Paul the benefit of the doubt, but somehow I knew he had dropped the papers on purpose.

"So sorry," Paul said, not sounding very apologetic at all.

Mike turned a slight shade of pink and bent down to pick up the papers. Paul started to reach for him as Mike's head went down when I warned, "Paul."

Paul blinked but his hand was already in motion; Mike looked up too quickly and went face first into Paul's giant hand. There was a small smacking noise and then an "Oomph!" followed by Mike's butt hitting the landing of the wood porch. Jacob reached out to grab Mike by the cuff of his pants, but still he slipped a little down the first two steps, skinning his elbow. All was silent for a second as we tried to register what had just happened to Mike before two roars of laughter erupted, clapping like thunder in the sky.

"Oh did you see that!" Paul hooted. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah!" Jacob echoed. "Oh my God!"

"Holy shit! How can someone so soft land so hard?" Paul was holding his sides, slapping at the air. "Priceless! I thought Swan had all the grace in Forks, but this one—ah, God, this one!" Paul continued to laugh as he cut himself off.

I was fuming. Not only had both guys assumed I couldn't even walk for my own safety, but now they were belittling Mike, who had been nice enough to bring me my homework. "Both of you guys are jerks!" I sounded.

Jacob stopped laughing but Paul was still sniveling.

"Mike, are you okay?" I helped him to his feet, with the right arm this time, and started pulling him toward the inside of the house when Mike went pale.

"No, no, Bella," Mike stopped me. "I'm okay. I'm good. I just wanted to bring you your homework. I don't need to come in or anything."

"Smart move," Paul voiced.

I glared at Paul. "I can have any visitor I want in my house, you got that?"

Jacob chuckled lightly as Paul's face dropped, but I quickly turned my anger onto him. "And you, you can now start calling before you come over here. I am not a child nor am I a duty of yours either!" I said venomously.

Jacob gulped lightly. "Sorry, Bells."

I looked away from Jacob and concentrated on Paul again. He had such an innocent look on his face that I had almost forgotten why I was upset with him. Almost.

"And you can apologize for pushing Mike," I ordered.

Paul's head reared back as I if had slapped him. "No."

"No?"I questioned.

"No," he reiterated more forcefully. "That little soft, bitch—"

"It's okay, Bella. It's cool," Mike said. I turned incredulously to Mike and watched him grin back sheepishly. "It's okay," he repeated with little conviction. "Really. I gotta go. I'm really sorry about the messy homework." His eyes dropped as he tried to hand me a few semi-soggy pages. "I could call you," Mike began to offer, "with the rest of the assignments if you can't make any of the words out."

"Or not," Paul threw back.

"Yeah, or not," Jacob chided in.

I snatched the pages out of Mike's hand unable to keep the anger out of my voice as I started, "Guys, what did I just say—"

"I—I can call Bella if I want to, you know," Mike said out loud.

Paul and Jacob looked at each other and started laughing again, softer this time, but the mockery was still there.

"Looks like the marshmallow grew a spine," Paul goofed.

Jake nodded, not quite able to start speaking yet due to his scoffing.

I sighed and faced Mike, figuring he had had enough embarrassment for one day. I was sure the whole pack would know what had befallen Mike before dinner that night. "Thank you again, Mike," I said as levelly as I could and kissed his cheek lightly.

Silence came back, sounding louder than before; Mike's eyes filled with gratitude, Jacob's were glossed over in sheer disgust, but Paul's was the worst.

Lightening from the passing storm sharply cracked behind the house with Paul's hands listlessly hanging down. His eyes shone like two bits of pearls covered in tar and the momentary flash of hurt that swept across his russet face hurt me much more than a broken hand ever would again. I blankly stared at him, unsure of quite what to do, wondering if I could even do anything at all. My mouth started to open when Paul's hand flinched and then shot out the second time that afternoon, but all he did was paw a part of the door frame, a few splinters crumbling from the door's hinge. Mike's eyes widened, but before I or Jake could say anything to warn him off, Paul sulked back inside, banging into the slightly mangled door on his way into the house.

Mike laughed uncomfortably.

"Well, thanks," he said and hurried off. "Call you tonight, Bella!" Mike announced as he climbed into his Dad's Chevy Trailblazer and drove off.

I looked on, reassuring myself that Mike had actually left and likely wouldn't double-back to the house, and slapped my homework papers into Jacob's chest.

"Why didn't you stop him from falling, Jake?" I accused.

"I tried." After I gave no response, Jacob shrugged. "Okay, fine. It made for a funnier story if the marshmallow fell instead."

I rolled my eyes.

"Bells," Jacob started cautiously, "do I really have to call each time I want to come over?"

I made an angry noise with my throat. "Not now, Jake. I have to go yell at your other half."

Jacob grimaced a little, but held his tongue and started to help me into the house, but I shrugged him off; I was not an invalid. Jacob allowed me to be angry and stayed a few steps back as I marched into the living room and glowered behind Paul, who was aimlessly flicking through channels.

"Paul," I called out.

He made no movement, not even tensing up at the sound of my voice.

Jacob whistled.

"Okay, I've gotta get going. Patrol and all…" he trailed off.

"What, now?" I asked. It was amazing; Jacob and Paul's alpha leader sanctioned the hotheaded werewolf in my house to babysit me while my best friend intermittently dropped by to help said hotheaded werewolf to scare my friends, and turn my house, my very life upside down.

"Sorry, Bells," Jacob said quietly. "I'll stop by…call you later," he added once he saw my stern face.

Jacob gave me another hug that I did not return and left, closing the door behind him. I looked after him to make sure the door was closing enough properly when Paul suddenly jumped in my face.

I took a reflexive step back, staring into his still black and soulless eyes. I swallowed loudly, determined to keep my back straight and my breathing minimal for fear I would take his odor, his smell, his aura that was the very being of him into my lungs and lose my mind.

"Why'd you kiss him?" Paul demanded to know.

I grunted and looked back at him with as much as will as I dared, still trying to keep my mind on the task at hand; which at the moment was to not to fall into a puddle on the floor in front of him.

"Jealous?" I inquired innocently.

Paul's jaw moved, but he didn't answer and my eyes widened in surprise because I suddenly knew the answer; he was jealous. Paul sniffed and then retreated back, his head hanging down and his hands pulling uncomfortably at the ends of his shirt.

"Fix me something to eat," he abruptly commanded.

My good hand jerked, folded and then resting on my hip. "I can help you fix yourself something to eat," I offered instead. I waved my slung arm a little to make a point and Paul nodded.

"Do that, then."

We continued to watch one another for a few more seconds, carefully sizing each other up before I just gave in and walked away from him and into the kitchen.

And as I fanned myself a little for relief from the heat, I heard Paul gasp as if he too had been holding it in for too long.

"Swan, I'm hungry!" Paul bellowed again from downstairs.

My head hit the cheap pine door to the bathroom. I was seconds away from escaping; the bathroom was really the only place I could attempt to achieve privacy from Paul. "You're always hungry! How many mouths do you have?" I asked.

"This particular mouth works just fine; trust me," he vowed. "Get down here and make me something to eat!"

I did my best to ignore him. I closed the door and locked it, happily hearing the little mechanism click. I took one look around and frustratingly yelled, "Paul, the toilet seat is up again!" through the door.

"Well use your good hand to put it back down!" he bellowed back.

I sighed deeply and did what he said, feeling thwarted that he was turning every request that I made of him into a fight. I proceeded to go to the bathroom.

"I said I'm hungry, Swan!" Paul called again.

Always hungry. "Will you wait a minute, Paul? I'm in the—" my voice caught as the bathroom door flung open with Paul standing in its doorway. Hadn't I locked that? I wasn't sure of what I did anymore. I never needed to lock the door with Charlie…but then again, I don't think Charlie ever tried purposefully to peep in on me using the bathroom.

"Paul, what the heck?" I screamed out, quickly putting a hand over the top open button of my jeans.

"Swan, will you curse like a real fuckin' person?" he snarled. "That habit isn't cute either."

"I don't need to curse," I stated smugly.

"Maybe not, but you need to hurry up and get downstairs so I can make dinner," Paul demanded. "I don't know what to do with the chicken."

"Did you wash it?" I questioned, pulling on my pants as quickly as I could without falling while jumping up. Looks like two precious half-breaths was the only peace I was going to get in the bathroom tonight.

Paul gave a gritty "No," from in-between his teeth.

"Start by washing it then and I'll be down there by the time you finish," I instructed. I then followed my own advice and washed my hands, glaring back at him. That seemed to be the only way I could look at him while he was awake. Oh the nights I've seen him sleep—

Paul wrinkled his nose. "Are you going to wear those jeans to dinner?" he asked suddenly. "You've already been wearing them for two days and you stink."

All of my thoughts shut off. I wheezed, mortified, and embarrassed at his coldness. It wasn't easy changing your clothes or taking a shower with a perceptive, hotheaded, and annoying teenage werewolf in the house. Especially one that kept barging in without knocking. I was seriously considering that Paul may have been trying to catch me performing a lewd act on purpose. I was already so vulnerable with him; what more did he need to do to me? I struggled not to cry as I met his eyes.

"It's hard for me to change, Paul," I said in a small voice.

He sucked his teeth and walked down the hall. I heard him roughly open one of my dresser drawers and when I blinked, he was back with a pair of loose, blue sweats and a white t-shirt.

"Give me your arms," he commanded. "We'll do you shirt first."

I shook my head at him immediately getting what he wanted of me. Well, I wasn't going to do it. I'd rather stink.

Paul stepped closer. "I've seen chicks naked before," he proclaimed. "So you've got nothing I don't know about already. Get over it because I'm not eating next to you with you smelling like this."

I blinked quickly again, imagining the color of my cheeks matching his naturally red skin. "I—I can't—I don't want you to see me," I stammered bashfully.

"Then I'll close my eyes, Swan, but you need to at least change your clothes. Would you feel better if I were the Prince instead?" he snapped, clearly annoyed.

"At least he would have been nicer about my odor."

"There's nothing nice about your odor," he hissed again.

I turned away, but the tears had already begun to fall. Paul was a nightmare and there was no point in denying it any longer; he had finally broken me down and I had nothing left to fight him with. I started to tug at my own shirt, anxious to get it off of my skin to shut him up. I even pushed the thought out of my mind; that I was about to be topless in front of a guy that was the walking plague for the CDC, according to Jacob. I stretched the fabric of the tee and lifted it to my neck as I felt his fingers on my rib cage. The hot wetness on my face was matched by the growing dampness between my legs. The tips of his fingers were only on me for one brash moment; a heavenly and wonderful millisecond that made one of my knees shake and left my mouth slightly agape. A hard gulp was stuck somewhere in my throat. The clean cotton shirt was suddenly rubbing against my back, and Paul moved his fingers to my elbows and assisted me with the rest of the removal of my shirt. He held my bandaged hand still as he put my other arm through the other sleeve and pulled it down, over my head without a second more to spare or linger over my topless body.

"Stop crying," he ordered, snapping me back to reality.

I wiped at my face, hoping that if he was looking at my face his other senses wouldn't pick up anything else. "What? Don't like to see girls cry?" I challenged, almost matching his harsh tone.

"Now that you mention it, no, I don't," he answered.

"Well girls do cry, Paul. At least the ones that are human do," I sniffled. "And I cry."

"I know that," he spat back. "I just…I just don't like seeing you cry," Paul finished.

I glanced at him, not sure if he had meant to say what he said or not. I tilted my head, starting to ask him what he had been implying with his last statement when Paul suddenly jerked me, forcing me to turn around to face the tub, put his hands on my waist, and yanked my jeans down. I grunted at the amount of burn left on my skin by the friction when he lifted me with one arm to remove my fallen jeans from around my ankles and slipped on my sweats. He pulled them up and tied the drawstring.

I hated to admit it, but it was over too quickly.

"You're dressed," he announced as he spun me back around to face him. "Now can we fix the chicken so I can eat now, your highness-in-training?"

I nodded compliantly and watched him walk out again, this time trudging down the stairs. My un-bandaged hand raced over my face and my knotty hair for a few minutes before I followed quietly a few paces behind him. He disappeared into the kitchen. My body was still trembling from how the comforting, but quick hands of Paul and I was amazed that he had somehow managed to do something nice without eliciting a sexually suggestive comment at the same time. Was I dreaming? I had been topless after all and he hadn't even seemed to care. Either I wasn't his type or he was really use to me.

"I thought every girl was his type," I permitted myself to say out loud.

"I'm more hungry than horny right now, Swan," he called from the kitchen. "And I'm getting impatient. Someone's dog is going to get stolen and ravished right out of its front yard if your ass isn't in here to help me in five seconds!"

I scowled. There was no privacy from Paul and his super werewolf hearing anywhere in the house.

Paul was already washing the small Cornish hens and three were already done by the time I finally did make it down the stairs. He slapped the remaining hens on a free counter and started stuffing them with the grounded meats I had helped him prepare earlier this afternoon.

"What about washing the rest of them?" I asked.

"I don't get sick easily," Paul argued. "And I doubt salmonella poisoning will affect a werewolf."

"What about me?" I complained. "I'm eating this food too." Didn't he ever think of anyone but himself?

"Eat the good ones," he said simply. "Keep them separate from the rest of them and you'll be fine. I washed those pretty good."

"I don't want you sick," I insisted. "I don't even want a hint of it."

"And you don't want me angry either." Paul narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm eating this one way or the other."

I rolled my eyes, but remained quiet. Paul looked satisfied and resumed his stuffing. I watched him push the grounded meat into the chicken for a few more seconds before I started to shake my head at him again.

"You stuffed it too much," I exclaimed, trying to get Paul to move so I could help.

"I did not," Paul disputed and gave me a little shove with his hot elbow, a hand still stuck in the hen. "You never put enough meat in the stuffing. I need meat. I'm not a fucking rabbit."

"Paul, language!" I shouted.

"Back off, Swan, I'm warning you," Paul swore.

That's it! Before I could stop myself, I threw what was left of the stuffing in the bowl at him. It splattered across his polo shirt and he looked at me, furious. The last chicken plopped! onto the floor.

"Fuck, that's it! I need to get out of here," he yelled and walked out of the kitchen. "First she wants me to help and then she throws shit at me! She's fuckin' crazy!" I heard him trail off into the next room.

I sighed, feeling a bit bad that I had lost my temper as I heard him talking quickly on the phone for some seconds before he slammed the phone back down. I walked over to the living room, calling out to him after I was sure that his conversation was over. I felt horrible that I had thrown food at him, but he was so difficult. I knew I was driving him crazy with all the 'back and forth' I kept doing; he had just screamed it.

"Paul, come here," I called softly to him. "Can we please get this into the oven before you leave or you won't have anything to eat when you finally do get back."

"Christ, Swan, if you don't stop, I'm gonna break your other hand on purpose," he threatened. Paul was putting on another shirt, this one dark blue, and then met my eyes. "I wish your God-damn bloodsuckers would come back now," he stated spitefully. "You are on my last fucking nerve."

My gasp from the bathroom finally escaped. "You are so insensitive!" I cried.

"Then stop riding me about everything I'm doing! If no one can do it like you, then you do it!" Paul challenged. "In the meantime, stop treating me like I can't do shit by myself! I'm not an idiot, Swan!" he declared blatantly.

I kept my hands and arms in front of me, moving toward the kitchen door, the only way out except through the front. Something told me to back down. A voice was telling me that I was pushing Paul too far, but I couldn't stop. I had been enduring his cruel words and attitude for too long and I couldn't take another night of his bullshit without understanding why.

"I have never said that you were an idiot!" I claimed.

He scoffed. "You and everyone on the rez act like it! You're all the same! I'm not dumb! And I'm not a whore!"

"You act like you are! Oh, the big, mighty Paul can't be messed with or tamed!" I mocked. "You think that nothing can get through that thick hide of yours? You think if you keep pushing people out that no one will be able to see how you really are?" I screamed back.

"Don't talk to me about pretending to be something that I'm not, leech-lover."

The wind was knocked out of me by imaginary hands, but I pressed myself to keep going. "Don't you dare to speak about them to me like that! The Cullens' saved my life and what have you done except eat, sleep, and scream about not getting any?" I accused. "I'm trying to help you!"

"Help me by moving your ass out the front of that door and let me go out. How the fuck can you stay in this house all the time?" Paul asked. "Depressed or not, missing your parasite or not, it gets old, Swan."

"It's Bella, you asshole!" I insisted, my throat hurting from my raised voice.

"Ooh, the little Miss Perfect Swan cursed. Never thought I'd see the day," he sneered.

"Why are you like this?"

"Why do you like them?" Paul retorted back. "They're not even here and you're defending them. Fuckin' leeches didn't even want you! They left you and you still sit obediently in the corner, waiting for them to arrive? How pathetic."

Angry tears streamed my face, but I wasn't going to stop to wipe them away. I needed to get this out. "What about all those girls that you were with? How badly did you treat them and they still came around you, wanting to be with you? They were like dogs in heat," I tried to shout back, but my voice began disappearing into a squeak from overuse.

"That's exactly what they were, Swan, bitches in heat, and who the fuck are you to tell me anything about dating?" Paul maliciously argued. "Wasn't that leech your first love? How did it feel the morning after fucking a cold rock?"

I was horrified. "That's none of your business," I whispered.

Paul seemed satisfied and his smile turned scornful. "Disgusting. I can't believe the Prince even dreams about you. It's gross. And you're nothing but a tease," he added before resuming his previous position and stepped closer toward me. I backed away as my breathing hitched, but I moved my body even closer to the door. I was now completely blocking Paul in.

His brownish tinted colored eyes burrowed into me, abruptly turning the shade of black ink, and I dug my hands into my sides out of instinct for tense confrontations. Paul bit into his lower lip, drawing a small amount of blood from his teeth just before he bared them at me. I forced myself to stand up straight, testing my strength against his as he tightened his own hands, turning them into fists. His knuckles cracked like bits of kindle in a warm hearth, but he was making his own heat with little effort or influence. He continued to stand there, attempting to stare me down, and I cringed before I could stop myself, but I did not shrink back from him. The house was eerily quiet for some time before Paul spoke a low order that should have had me quivering from its intensity, but I was not afraid of him.

"Move," Paul uttered.

"No," I said back with a much less amount of force, but with courage all the same.

"I'm not your sweet Jacob, Swan," he promised. "I'm not afraid to get rough with you."

"Then do it," I dared, suddenly getting my voice back. "Show me," I heard myself saying, using the same words that he had demanded of me a few short days ago.

Paul's fire was the only thing I felt when the world stopped. He was suddenly so close to me that I could hear and feel his heartbeat pounding into my upper chest, mimicking the speed of mine. My eyes had blurred as he moved with such stealth that I should have missed it, being human, but I suddenly knew every move he was making without the aid of my sight. I abruptly felt a connection to him; an electric, kismet energy that multiplied in its intensity as soon as he was within reach of me. No longer was I blinded and crushed by the weight of my anger for things I could not change; I had lost Charlie. I was abandoned by my vampire love, Edward. I even lacked the comprehension to understand why Sam had put me in the house with this one particular wolf. To keep me safe, I answered myself. Paul would keep me safe. No one else, but him could.

He moved his hand and I continued to keep my eyes trained on him, wanting to will him to move it closer to me so that we'd be touching. He's not going to hurt me, I realized. He doesn't even want to hurt me. Is that why I cared for Paul like I did? Is that why I didn't want him to leave, even after I had broken my hand on his face? No. No, I wanted Paul. He wasn't like anyone I knew and I wanted him all to myself. I didn't want to share him with those other girls and I didn't want to have to worry, wondering if he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with. I could see it in his eyes again; he knew that I wanted him.

Paul was here. He was almost on me, gaps of space be damned. I could see the slight sheen glowing across his forehead. I could even see the reflection of myself in his eyes as he continued to stare at me, suddenly unsure of how to act. I had just asserted myself against him, pushing him to the point that he was close to phasing, but I was not afraid to push him and I never had been. It took until just then to realize why I was never afraid of him; I wanted to be with him. The feeling was so strong that it knocked out my instinct to survive against all odds, because if I didn't have Paul with me, there would be no point in living. I had thought Edward was the world, but Edward was gone and he wasn't coming back. But now I suddenly didn't care. I didn't want Edward back at all.

I felt Paul's nose gently bump onto my cheek and heard him inhale me. My lips parted, preparing to finally give in to the one flavor I had not been able to taste with my tongue since I had met him, since I had found him.

He pulled back a little and I grabbed him by the roots of his hair so hard that my injured hand began to throb at the same pace of my heartbeat. I touched his lips with mine and forced my tongue into his mouth. Paul seemed surprised momentarily and his whole body twitched, but then he snaked his arms around my hips and returned the kiss, slowly and quite passively, gently knocking his tongue against mine and they danced to the beat of a song that hadn't been written yet. My stomach jumped; nervous by the fact that I hadn't felt a kiss like this before, but I wasn't letting that stop me. My back hit the wall, which should have shifted my attention from our kiss to another small pain in my back…but that didn't stop me either. Paul showed his appreciation for my focus by deepening our kiss, dipping my head as he reached in my mouth to pull out my tongue again, forcing me to keep reacting to the heat of his body. Our bodies seemed to stand as one now.

His fingers scraped across my whole torso, grabbing my face, and leaving a faint but burning shadow of heat behind every surface of my skin that he touched. His mouth moved with certainty, but he was so tranquil that I almost thought that I was kissing a completely different person than the one who had been yelling at me in the kitchen. This person that I was kissing seemed almost tamed.

I pushed my body further into him, becoming even more immersed in our kiss, and I heard him make a gurgling sound with his throat.

"Bella," he murmured faintly.

I shook the sound of his deep voice from my mind, staying in sync with him. His hips pressed into me, making my body tingle, and I was sure that all I wanted to do was keep kissing him. I nodded my head, to affirm my own suspicions and he pushed his face into my neck, leaving my lips behind for the moment.

"Jesus Christ," one of us mumbled. I was so in tuned to him that I wasn't sure which one of us had taken the Lord's name in vain, but that didn't even seem to matter either. What was important was that we both wanted it.

Paul grabbed me by my waist and began kissing a trail from the side of my mouth down to the hollow of my neck. I shuddered against him, but did not pull away. I had never orgasmed with another person before, but I was pretty sure I was close to doing so right now. He kissed the throbbing vein in my throat and I smiled as his soft, black hair grazed my cheek. He angled my face lightly with his tongue, careful not to force me lest I stop him too soon, and touched the bottom of my chin with his right hand. His nose moved, inhaling me again, and I rubbed the side of his face with my palm, as if I was cooing a small animal.

"Bella," he said again as hips came between my slightly open thighs. I gasped when I felt something thick and hard between them. I almost swallowed my tongue as he moved slowly again, closer to my face. I felt his fingers move toward my back, pulling me ever closer and he grinned a little. I held my breath as his lips glided over my entire face before landing on my mouth again. I hunched my shoulders and my thoughts became consumed with nothing else but our kiss.

"Oh my God," I finally answered back before he silenced me with another lock of our lips.

*A/N: This oughta do it. You helped me to sleep, Paul.

I know, too dramatic. Sorry.

Thank you for reading/reviewing and even for listening to my rant in the beginning author's note. For helping me rediscover my Paul addiction, the next chapter will come a lot sooner, I promise. No time table, but I swear, I'm trying.