Author's Note: So, this chapter is a little iffy, but oh well, here it is! Thanks for the reviews!

Disclaimer: Reece, Basel/Baz, Dr. Gardner, Patsy, and Reece's parents are mine

By the time we all got back, Billy was screaming about some hysterical lady that continued to call the Clearwater's and harass Leah about my whereabouts. Oh. Right. Yeah. That'd be my mother.

Leah ran to the door when she saw the six of us approaching, and I'm fairly certain if looks could kill, I'd be dead. Ever-loving Seth must have sensed this as well because he stepped protectively between us like some suit-wearing body guard.

Oh my word! my brain exclaimed, enraptured, Just think of Seth in a suit! Ya know how guys are suddenly like ten times hotter, even if they're already super mega ultra hot to begin with, once they don a suit? Yeah, pretty much almost jumped Seth's bones on the front porch imagining him in a James Bond-ish way. I shook my head to clear out my dirty thoughts, which were now spreading to picture the other members of the pack in suits as well, and peered around Seth to raise my eyebrows in question at his sister.

She glared down, launching into her story about how, even though she had assured my mother I'd call her back when I was available, she continued to call non-stop anyway. Yeah. As I said before. That's my mother.

I hustled over to the phone lickety split, followed by my entourage of werewolves, and dialed my home digits.

"REECE?!" the woman was so loud that not only I flinched, but so did every other resident in La Push.

"Ow." I replied, deadpan.

"OH! IS THAT YOU, HONEY?"

"Good God mother. Stop shouting into the phone, I'm going deaf over here," I answered.

"It must be you," she concluded, "I'd recognize that tone anywhere. Now, honey, when are you coming home?"

In an awkward unison that resulted in many glares and odd facial expressions, Jake and Seth both whispered, "You can stay another night."

I nodded, acknowledging their invitation. "Um, actually mom, I was thinking I'd stay over again…"

"What?" My mother asked, heart broken that I didn't want to return to her nest. "Well, honey," she forged on in as even a voice as she could muster, "I suppose that would be okay, I'm glad you're making a friend…but I'd really like you to come to Dr. Gardner's."

Ugh. Dr. Gardner. Ever since we were shipped up here my mother insisted on having family therapy sessions to better improve our lives, and ever since I found out my mother had employed a shrink, I bought a book on disorders and 'developed' a new one every Saturday afternoon for Dr. Gardner to diagnose me with. "Can't I just skip today mom?"

"No missy," she scolded, "Dr. Gardner wants to check up on your insomnia." Ah, my insomnia, the only disorder I actually possessed.

"That's cured," I assured her, glancing around at my supernatural sleeping pills.

"Well then he'll want to see how you're dealing with your schizophrenia."

"Ya know mom, I think that might have been a false alarm."

"Oh, well what about your post traumatic stress disorder?"

Coincidentally, I probably could have that, considering nearly being drained of all the blood in my body by a psycho vampire in the woods was very scarring. But, alas, I didn't. "Mom, it's under control."

I could practically see her shaking her head in determination. "Well, honey, if you're to stay another night, then I want you to at least come to the session. Daddy can drop you back off later."

A look of pure agony spread across my face. Stupid shrink. "Fine."

"Oh goodie! Then I'll see you soon. And next time, answer the phone. I had to talk to that grouchy friend of yours eight times."

I rolled my eyes. "Then stop calling. Bye!" and I hung up before she could say anything more.

"Who's that boy?" my dad inquired suspiciously when I arrived home, "I thought you were staying with a girl named Leah."

"I was, dad, but she doesn't have a car," I explained. Dad closed the door and approached the front room's window, watching as Jake drove off. "It's just Jake, dad; he's a friend from school that lives by the Clearwater's."

"Humph," my dad grunted, before being interrupted by the wonderfully cheerful voice that only one crazily annoying woman in the world could possibly possess.

"Oh, honey, you're home!" my mother cried, smiling wide, her bright orange lipstick smearing across her front teeth. Yes, my mother wore orange lipstick. It's the new pink, duh. "Phew," she scrunched up her nose, covering her mouth with an over-blinged hand. My mom loved jewelry, especially gaudy rings and bangles. "Why on earth do you smell like dog?"

I lifted my arm and smelled the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I didn't think it was that bad. "Jake's got a dog." I winced as soon as those words flew out of my mouth and into the room.

"Jake?" my mother squeaked. "Who is Jake?"

I sighed dramatically loud. "He's a friend from school that lives by Leah and drove me home 'cause Leah has no car. Dad and I have already discussed this."

My father confirmed my statement with a well place, "Humph."

Mom pursed her lips, scanning me over, surely trying to find my lie. Then again, she bought every single disorder that I acted out, so I was positive she wouldn't catch the 'oh, well, all the people I met today are werewolves' truth that was behind my story. "Well, stay away from that Jake's house then," she ordered, sneezing delicately. How someone sneezes delicately is beyond me, but my mother has it mastered. "I don't want to continually sneeze every time you come home from visiting La Push." Fat chance mom, fat chance.

"Whatever," I mumbled, glaring at the stairs, willing Basel, my lunatic, nerdy brother, to frolic down the stairs and interrupt this moment. He didn't, so, for my sake, I screamed, "Baz!"

"Honestly, honey, can't you call him by 'Basel', I hate that you shorten such a respectable name," my mother huffed. She just did not understand that such a respectable name made him even more of a geek.

"BAZ!" I yelled once again, firstly to annoy my mother, secondly to actually get the kid moving. "Time for therapy!"

The car ride consisted of Baz reciting all the numbers of pi. At least, as many as he could fit into the drive. I think my brain died after the first fifty, because I didn't even realize we were at Dr. Gardner's until Baz poked me in the eye. The eye! Curse him.

I slumped down into my usual white puffy chair that I always occupied during these group therapy sessions. See, for family therapy, we're all supposed to sit happily together on a couch, but I told Dr. Gardner that it made me uncomfortable that I didn't have a choice in the matter and that that sort of pressure could inevitably push me over the brink and into permanent insanity. So he had a separate chair next to the couch just for me. Aren't I lucky?

From my miniature throne I could see outside from a window that spanned the entire wall, if I looked to my left, I'd see my family, and to my right, I'd spy Dr. Gardner; so obviously I usually zoned out the window, wishing I could just fly away from the madness that is my psychotic family. But today, something unusual occurred outside my sacred window. Today, two large dogs were sitting out there, enjoying the shade that the tree in front of the building provided. One of them winked. And I knew, I just knew that that one was Embry. My jaw dropped in surprise at their presence. I mean, the Cullen's had said they were going to watch me for a little bit, but it had been a week; if any vampires wanted their revenge, you'd think they'd have taken it by now.

Dr. Gardner, noticing my facial slack asked me what was the matter. Slowly I turned my head to answer. "Sorry," I apologized, "I've just never seen those dogs before…in town."

Dr. Gardner quirked an eyebrow. "What dogs?"

I pointed straight ahead. "Those--" But my Quileute friends had disappeared and I was left looking like a moron in front of a psychologist. Never a good thing. Unless you want to be locked up in a padded cell with a straight jacket wrapped snuggly around you.

"What is with you and dogs today?" my mom started pestering me. "She's been talking about dogs all day. She came home from a friend's house and smelt like one, too."

I widened my eyes at her. "Mom, I didn't say one thing about dogs. You were the one who said I stunk and then banished me from the house if I ever came home with such a vulgar stench again."

"So let me get this straight," Dr. Gardner interrupted, furiously scribbling, or doodling I had also thought possible, on his yellow pad of paper. "Reece, you've got friends now?"

"Humph," my dad contributed to the conversation, no doubt thinking of Jacob and how he didn't want any male coming in contact with his daughter. Ever.

My mom batted her eyelashes and spun to answer Gardner. "Yes," she informed him, "Reece stayed at a friends house over in La Push last night."

"Well, no wonder she smells like dog," Gardner looked at my mother as if she was a silly twit, which she is, but she's not used to receiving such a look from anyone but me, "The entire area surrounding La Push has a wet dog odor."

"Humph," my dad agreed.

"How odd," my mother stroked her chin, probably trying to decide whether to allow me to keep my friends or to demand I try to make new ones, which would happen no time fast.

I sneaked a peek at Baz, who had brought along a notepad of his own and was hurriedly taking notes. He had informed me a year ago that he wished to write a memoir about his life in order to inspire other genius kids that were also stuck in families like his. When I asked him to define our family, he merely shrugged his shoulders, stared intently at the floor and replied, "Oh, you know."

And all the while that my mom and Dr. Gardner were discussing dogs, my dad 'humph'ing when necessary and my brother taking down interesting tidbits for his future readers, my eyes wandered back outside to where the two dogs, werewolves, I was certain, had been lounging in the damp grass. I had recognized the one that winked. But the other one, he was a mystery to me. Not that it mattered. If there were wolves I hadn't met, I was sure I would. I mean, I was basically engaged to Seth. Which, thinking back to him in a suit, wasn't so bad. So I was beginning to wonder why it had been Embry and Unknown Wolf that were watching me instead of Seth or Jacob when Dr. Gardner rudely interrupted my thought process.

"Reece?"

My head snapped up, "Huh?"

My whole family was staring at me, awaiting my answer to a question I hadn't realized had been asked. Dr. Gardner furrowed his eyebrows, leaning over his notepad and muttering, "Dazed expression…lack of interest…attention span almost non-existent…" Oh shit. He was diagnosing me for something I didn't have and also hadn't been pretending to have. "Now, Reece, I want you to answer my question truthfully. We won't judge you, and you won't get into any trouble," the doctor assured. By now I was thoroughly confused. I had read my disorders book back and to front and I couldn't think of a single disorder besides ADD that could have my 'symptoms'. But then why would he tell me I wouldn't get into any trouble for admitting I had it? Dr. Gardner's face turned somber as he looked at me intensely, leaning forward slightly. "Did you…experiment at all lately, with any substance?"

Huh? And then I remembered that my eyebrows still hadn't fully grown back from the experiment in chemistry and I chuckled, "Oh yeah, for a couple of days."

My mom nearly fainted and my dad angrily turned red and said, "Humph!"

"Now, now," Dr. Gardner interjected, "Let's all try to stay calm here."

I raised one of my half-grown eyebrows, "What's the big deal. Everyone was--"

"That's no excuse!" My mother shrieked, now fully attentive.

"Okay, so I made a few mistakes while experimenting, but I'm sure that next time I try I'll be able to do it correctly."

"IT?!" My mother wailed.

"Humph," my dad grumbled.

"And how much did you take today?" Dr. Gardner asked with concern.

"Take?" What were these people on? "Take what?"

Dr. Gardner sighed. "Weed, pot, grass…"

"Excuse me?" I yelled. He was talking about that kind of experimentation?! I swear this family is worse off with therapy. "No, I've never done any of that. I was talking about a chemistry experiment--"

"So you did do it? Oh, goodness, it was that Jake boy, wasn't it?" My mother looked as if she was about to have a heart attack, she was clutching at her chest, and if she wasn't careful I'm pretty sure here long long fingernails were going to impale her soon. And I really did not like how she had spit out Jake's name, as if he were some sort of venereal disease.

"No, mom," I said flatly, tired of this conversation, "Chemistry, as in the class, with the molecules and shit."

"Humph," my dad scolded me for my language as Baz dejectedly crossed off nearly an entire page of writing. Apparently he wanted me to be some crack whore to make his memoir more appealing to his readers.

"Oh," my mother finally breathed again, "Oh, okay then…"

Since when did family therapy turn into gang up on Reece time? As I was about to suggest we concentrate on Baz, who was at a more impressionable time in his life, I remembered one of Dr. Gardner's golden rules. If any of the participants in a session began to feel as if they were unable to cooperate for any given reason they were allowed to leave the room. Thank the freaking Lord. So on the pretense of insanity I dismissed myself, much to my mother's horror and embarrassment, and went to sit in the lobby and wait for the next fifteen minutes until the shrink was done. I really didn't understand the whole point of therapists. All you do is talk. Why didn't my mom just buy herself a volleyball like the guy in Castaway and save herself the time and money? She could draw a cute little face on it and name it Wilson and have interesting tea parties in which they can discuss whether orange really is the new pink and other really important topics like that. And Wilson would never interrupt her, would always listen, and would be much less prone to use any sort of tone with her because he wouldn't possess vocal chords. But whatever, my mom preferred Dr. Gardner to a volleyball named Wilson. Personally, I would choose the volleyball.

Seth was sitting impatiently on the front steps of the Clearwater house. I could see him as soon as the house came into view. He was just so tall, even folded up to fit on the stairs. My dad began to slow down once he realized that the house we were heading for was the same one that Seth was now perched on, waiting for my return. And that sounded really corny, yet romantic. "Who's that boy?" he asked, coming to a halt two houses away. "I thought you were staying with a girl named Leah."

De ja vu. Only now I'm the one in the car.

"Dad, that's Seth, Leah's brother, therefore, he lives in the same house, so just chill," I comforted him.

"Humph," my dad said, putting the car back into drive and going the half block left to Seth's humble abode.

As soon as I stepped from the vehicle Seth jumped up, joy spreading across the features of his face, as if it was the first time he had seen the sun in...forever. He didn't even notice the way my dad was mentally stabbing him with a pitch fork, for which I gave Seth props. Most guys ran as far away as possible when they saw my dad, and those weren't even the ones interested in me, because, quite frankly, guys just weren't that interested in me. "Hey!" he greeted with a grin, wrapping me up in his impossibly warm arms. This time I returned the embrace, if only because I was so ecstatic to get away from my family and the probing Dr. Gardner.

"Humph," my dad said in farewell as he drove away, glaring in the review mirror the entire time until he nearly hit someone's mailbox and had to dangerously swerve to avoid the accident.

I dislodged myself from Seth. "Well, I'm back," I smiled, "So we should probably head over to Jake's house, he's probably wondering where I am."

Seth nodded, if not a little depressed at the fact that he couldn't have me completely to himself, so, out of simpathy for him, and I guess because I really wanted to feel up his bicep, I grabbed his arm and dragged him along to the Black's.

Paul was there when we entered the front room, mercilessly beating Jake in some video game I had never heard of before. "WOO!" he screamed, causing Billy to come wheeling into the room like a madman and shush him. "Sorry Billy!" Paul waved, never taking his eyes from the glow of the TV screen. What was it with guys and video games? Seth was having a hard time deciding whether to stare at me, or at the epic battle taking place in the Xbox...or whatever gaming console they had, so I plopped down on the couch and he followed suit. Mmm...suit...

And that is how I spent the next few hours. Only I fell asleep so thank Budda it didn't feel that long, because the next thing I knew, Seth was carrying me, wedding style, into Jake's room and laying me in my sleeping bag as if I were a china doll. He carefully tucked me in and kissed my forehead, unknowing that I was awake. This little gesture caused a smile to grace my lips that neither Seth nor Jake caught, for which I'm grateful because I am usually not one to be won over with things like that. And then I dozed off.

And, of course, with my luck, had this awful nightmare where Embry, Jake, and Seth were all begging on their hands and knees for my hand in marriage and I replied with, "No my gentlemen lovers, I cannot accept any of your glorious and outlandish offers, because my heart already belongs to another." At this I dramatically threw my head to the side where Wison, the volleyball, was waiting in a tie at an alter, and I got married to a peice of athletic equipment. I don't even play sports for God's sake!

I sat as still as a statue after waking up from that. Jake's room was dark except for the very cliche moon beams streaming in from the window. Jake snored and rolled over. I needed a breather, some fresh air. I crawled clumsily over to the window, which was open for some reason beyond my level of thought to compute, and climbed...or fell, let's not get into details...out and into the yard. And I very nearly into cardiac arrest right there in the grass when I heard from behind me:

"Hey, Blur." I spun around like a hopped up ballerina to stare at the figure of an insanely tall and lanky person.

Seth was leaning casually against the Black's siding, as if it was normal for him to creep around at night, peeping in at Jacob. "Hey, Bond," I replied sarcastically.

"Bond? As in, James Bond?" he asked, amused, and probably slightly flattered, considering James Bond kicked some major ass. And how cool would it be if James Bond were also a werewolf? Because then he'd be even more unstoppable than he already is.

I raised an eyebrow. "You were spying on me, weren't you?"

Seth blushed furiously, chuckling quietly, "Yeah, I guess I sort of was."

"Well there you have it," I continued, nodding my head, "All you need is a suit and you'd be set." Good God, the stunningly gorgeous image of Seth in a suit was popping into my head A LOT that day. I wonder if there is a disorder like that...oh, wait, it's called nymphomania.

"Well, I'd have to challenge you on that," he argued with a barely concealed smirk as he cocked his head charmingly to the side. "It seems to me as if Bond tends to lose the the suit pretty quickly after meeting a pretty lady."

It was my turn to blush I guess, because I did. "Oh," I barely squeaked out, "I, er, guess you're right."

Seth bit his lip, stepping a little closer. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

If only he knew it was the image of Seth without a suit that made me uncomfortable, and not him exactly. And my psycho body was all 'YEAH! GO FOR IT!' and my brain was all 'DO IT!' but that one part of my mind that was still functioning properly said, 'Well, you know you want to, but you know you're not ready, so just wait. Cause he'll be here when you truly are ready'. Which was true. But before I could actually say any of this, Seth's hand was stroking the side of my face, I was looking up into his tender dark eyes, and he leaned in, awkward and cautiously, to kiss me.

And holy shit there were fireworks.

Author's Note: Seth is THE man. That's all I have to say. :D