Again, this is a piece of fanfic, I don't own anything.

Another happy happy, joy joy thanks to Diamondheart, without whom you would be subjected to my mixed metaphors and barren dialogue.

Bella POV

Jake piled our stuff into the Rabbit and we headed toward La Push. It was such a nice drive through the woods and always helped me relax, though the drive took quite a bit longer than the usual 15 minutes when Jake drove. I wasn't going to mention it; he'd probably just plead needing to tune up the Rabbit, stare at the road and turn as pink as his russet skin would allow.

We made the drive in relative quiet most of the way to La Push. A little piece of me couldn't help but wonder if his unusual lack of conversation had to do with the ever so subtle change that happened the day before and we were waiting to see if the waters were still in the same state today.

We got to the gravel of the First Beach parking lot and were delighted that no one was there yet. Jake grabbed the picnic basket out of the backseat of the car and then walked around to the trunk.

"What are you getting? Can I help?"

"Sure, Bells. I have some blankets and a radio back here. Just grab the blankets, I'll get everything else." He pulled out a smallish radio with a cd player and a couple disk cases and I hauled out the two heavy beach blankets; there was one softer blanket that clearly was meant to get wrapped around me later. Once the sun went down the air near the beach chilled very quickly. Being the scrawny thing that I was, I chilled quickly.

We walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes when I decided I needed to break the ice. Jake had been sneaking glances at me, and I think he just wanted me to talk first. Or maybe he just wanted me to talk. Only recently had I rediscovered my voice and frankly, it was so underused I had sounded gravely until just these past two weeks.

"So, Jake. I had a really nice time last night. Really nice." My awkward conversation starter at least got the right idea across.

"So, a nice time for you involves a little splash of vomit in the car? Remind me to aim low from now on, Bells!" Jake's face had split into a wide and warm grin, the teasing drawing a smile from me as well.

I did give him a mock-exasperated eye-roll, though.

"Come on, you know what I meant. I meant after... last night. That was nice. It felt... like... I don't know. Just..." I stumbled over my words and regretted trying to describe my feelings. My face started getting warm.

"Nice? I swear Bells, if you say that again I'll have to turn in my guy card. You reserve that word for your grandmother's flowers or the neighbor's zucchini bread. With me you should be saying things like heart-pounding, swoon-worthy, or faint-inducing." Jake wiggled his eyebrows a little implying he had other terms he'd like applied.

I laughed a little. It still felt foreign. Laughing was an oddity for me, last night's outburst being a dispiritingly rare occurrence.

"Oh, Bells." Jake sighed. "If I could bottle that sound I would."

I stopped walking, slightly shocked at this intimate insight. The icy gap in my chest throbbed slightly at the on-going shifts in our friendship. Was this really okay? Was this more than Nice?

Jake paused, turning after taking a few steps past where I had stopped. He turned his head slowly before turning his body to face me fully. He set the radio and picnic basket down and took measured steps toward me. He stepped into my space and folded me lightly into his warmth, leaning his head down to nuzzle against the top of my head.

We stood like this for a few moments before Jacob spoke next to my ear in a soft and slightly husky voice, his breath just brushing the sensitive skin there.

"Bella, when I told you I was here for you, I meant it. I care more about you than…than anything. Your laugh has become the most wonderful sound to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to make you smile again."

He leaned back slightly and brushed his lips against my forehead before picking up the blankets I'd dropped and retrieving the basket and radio.

"Not much further, Bells; you see the big log?"

I nodded.

"That's where we're going."

Another nod.

After Jake laid out the blankets and set out a few of the picnic dishes I knelt down on the blanket and placed a hand on his arm to stop his fussing with the picnic.

He turned his head to me slowly again. His sweet dark eyes met mine and burned with feeling.

"Jake... thank you." I whispered.

"For what, Bella? For telling you the truth?"

"Yes."

He reached out and took my hands. Our eyes never broke contact as we both leaned slightly forward toward each other. My chest throbbed, but from the strengthening beat of my own heart. Our lips were just grazing and I could feel Jake's breath hitch as emotion overtook him and he shifted his weight to move closer to me, holding my hands tightly...

"OUCH!!!"

"What?!? I'm sorry Bella? Did I hurt you??"

"My h-hand. It's okay, really" I protectively covered the cold, silvery and slightly raised mark on the back of my hand that, under the pressure of Jake's touch, had stabbed with a sharp and burning pain, briefly knocking the air from my lungs.

Jake looked at me searchingly but didn't push it. Giving my hands a light pat, he grabbed the handles of the picnic basket. I was grateful for his efforts to lighten the mood. No way I was getting into that with him.

"What do you say I sample the goods and let you know if it's safe?" He already had his first sandwich unwrapped and hoisted halfway to his mouth. His first bite took at least a third of the sandwich down and he chewed appreciatively.

"That one is ham salad. I had a leftover hunk of meat from a ham I made a few days ago. Charlie is a bit hammed out so I figured you could be my next victim." I smiled. He was the only guy who was thrilled with 3 day old and twice refurbished leftovers. Likely a side effect of growing up on the rez.

"First of all, I am more than happy to help you clear out your refrigerator, and second, I am the only hunk of meat you should discuss in the future." I narrowed my eyes at him a bit for that comment, but smiled anyway in spite of myself. None of the boys at my school ever had as sharp a comeback, and HE never teased in so familiar a way. It was... nice. Ugh.

His mischievous smirk made my half smile open up a bit and a little giggle rise in me. It wasn't much of one, but it was real. And it made my chest contract painfully over the barbed wire nudging my lungs. My breath caught for a split second and I coughed to cover it.

God! Would I ever just be happy without being punished?

Billy POV

The tall shirtless man paced on the ground in front of me. His frustration was tangible. It was understandable, but the cause was simply too close to home for me. I just wanted a little more time.

"It's got to be done. We need him and it's so close. I don't understand why it just won't happen!" He was too controlled to yell. He was too governed to lose it, but the restraint he'd had to call upon of late had worn his self command paper thin.

"He's been happy lately, Sam. Happier than I've seen in a very long time. It's keeping him from the anger and the sense of threat that he should be feeling. It's like it's frozen."

"Exactly! The whole process, it's locked and we've got to give it a push. There could be more of…them coming any day."

I knew exactly what that meant. I couldn't bear to see it done, though. Not the actual event, which would be bad enough, but the change in the rest of my son's life. He would be a powerful one, a leader even, but he would be a slave to it and those he protected. Other things might change, too. Things that would break not just his heart, but the girl's, and possibly others, too. And she was just beginning to get better. He might even have to break away from her forever against his will, just to serve. It could break her completely, along with my best friend.

I looked very hard at the young man before me. He was subject to my will and that of my peers. There may be an elected chief now, and that schmuck could deal with the state and federal authorities, argue our unconventional land use, moderate our subsistence programs and make sure there was funding for the adult literacy programs and troubled youth outreach. But when it came to tradition and our secrets, the Council of Elders reigned supreme. Some of the old folk in La Push paid no attention to the elected chief at all. Old Quil had never even been to an official tribal meeting, preferring the bonfires, coffee tables and Council meetings to get news and business done.

I knew he was right of course. I had noticed the changes for months. He was huge now, though sure to get bigger, and he'd been filling out his frame with the muscle of a man and losing the softness of boyhood. Were it not for that sweet girl coming into (or back into) his life after the very soul had been drained from her by the Cullen boy, he would have changed weeks - if not months – ago.

But he was a mechanic, and he loved to fix things. He'd loved her for years before all this, and now she not only was here, but was choosing to spend her time with him; broken, but free. He had a project. The project was his life; she was swiftly becoming the most vital thing to him. School was all well and good, he passed just fine and was clearly on pace to graduate, but once he changed, so might those plans.

But the threat was there. The man before me had smelled it. His brothers smelled it. Hell, I could smell it if I tried. Three was simply not enough and they would need their true leader eventually. I had no choice. But I could beg for time. I could beg that my son's sweet smile and joyful eyes keep their sparkle before getting the hard edge of the one watching me. I decided.

"It's Saturday. It's the beginning of spring break. The activity has been constant but low for weeks. Give him this time. Let him have this break. On Friday you can start, but give him this week."

I felt my voice trail off and my eyes grew a touch moist.

"Give me this week. Let him stay just my son for this week."

Those hard eyes relaxed and for a moment I saw the understanding, sympathy, and warmth that men who knew things they'd rather not reflected there. He nodded.

"Of course, Billy. Friday."

"Thank you, Sam. Tell Paul and Jared."

"I will."

And with that I condemned my devoted son to slavery.

Jake POV

We ate and made small talk about school and her plans after graduation. She seemed a little lost when it came to that subject, but was thinking about either the school in Port Angeles or just some online courses.

"Jeez Bells, cutting it to the last second, don't you think? I figured you'd go to UW at the very least, if not go ivy league." She was so smart. Don't get me wrong, the idea of Bella staying close to home made me want to jump up and down like a cheerleader, but the potential she had simply wasn't going to get tapped at crappy little extension schools.

"Well, maybe I'd just do it for the junk classes, and transfer credits later. My plans, ah, have been changing. A lot."

"How so?"

Her eyes immediately went down and she made a slightly pained sounding cough. She mumbled and started looking at the CD cases.

"What? Bella, did you say something?"

"Um, I thought I was going to go to college with him." Oh. HIM. We never spoke of... Him. It so plainly caused her pain and made me feel like a jerk for ever bringing it up. He still consumed her at times, I swear. He made her hurt even now, six months later. Four of those months she had rarely left the house except for school and work. From my father's half of the phone conversations, it was clear that she just laid on her bed staring at nothing or did homework. She had the perfect exterior, good grades, neat and tidy, but was dead in every other way. Then she found the motorcycles.

That was the oddest thing, and so out of character, especially for the daughter of a cop. Charlie hated the things, and had declared more than once that if he could ban them from Forks, he would. So when Bella Swan showed up at my garage with not one, but two old but redeemable bikes, I knew something was going on. I chalked it up to getting back at the ex, and thanked God that she didn't chop off all her hair like a lot of girls did after a bad break up. I loved that hair, and I really loved that it was looking better these days now that Bella was eating better. It shone again and now in the mid day sun the reds and golds shimmering in the rich brown around her face and down her back were distracting.

"Transferring sounds like a decent plan later. I bet Charlie won't mind the company. And the cooking!" She smiled a bit at my obvious excitement about food. I could eat well, but lately it was a little peculiar. And alarming. Sue Clearwater said I was like a newborn, on a three hour feeding schedule. Some days two hour.

"Yeah, going local gives me some options, and they're less expensive than the bigger schools."

I let the conversation drop and I took the CD cases that she was still turning over in her hands. I knew she'd lost her taste for music, but she always overdid things, listening to complex and tortured piano pieces or massive compositions when music really was for fun and pleasure. So I brought an eclectic mix she could just rifle through and choose from. Some of it wasn't even mine, but dredged from the room my sisters shared and a few from friends.

"Pick one. We can chill out before we head back to help with the bonfire."

"Did you sign us up to help or something?"

"No, but everyone around here goes early for the cook-out and to talk. Lots of people go early if they can't stay long, and it's sort of like a community party, family reunion, and story time all rolled into one." The kids from Forks never really caught on to that part, just showing up for the party, but I wasn't going to mention it.

She took the stack of cases back and thoughtfully looked them over before choosing some Ray Charles. She handed me the CD and I set it in the player. The rowdy piano started hammering and I couldn't help but smile. Still in the comfort zone, but certainly far from the usual fare.

"Why Ray?" I really was curious. She didn't seem the type to play some crappy top 40 or just plain classic rock, but I didn't expect this. I was rather relieved, though: I may have brought the damn Enya CD, but I was beyond thankful she didn't pick it.

"It's good. And it's real. When a good artist makes a song about hurt, it makes you hurt, when it's happy, so are you. And when he talks about love, well, you can't help but agree with him." Her tone was a little sheepish. She'd thought about this, and had listened to it before.

"So, what else do you listen to? Have you listened to much lately at all?"

She grimaced a little, "Not much lately... but Charlie always used to have a classics station on, so I got used to that, and in Phoenix I heard my share of rock, punk, soul, country, and all the mixes in between. I tend to like things that don't make it on the radio much."

I went for broke.

"Classical?"

She winced.

Oops.

"Some." She dropped the conversation.

I wasn't going to pick it up. Not today. Not when we had finally made some progress and my lips still tingled from the light brush of hers – before I had to go and effing hurt her hand. Not when I still had a few more hours with her lit by the flickering light of a bonfire. Not when the night air would chill her and I would wrap my arms around her to keep out the cold. No way was I screwing that up.

Bella POV

"He…played, you know." I whispered; I wasn't sure Jake heard me, since he made no reaction to what I said. Two sensations warred in my chest: the ever-present, aching gap and the beating of my heart. After a few seconds he raised his eyes from where he had been fiddling with the CD cases and gazed steadily at me. His look was soft with empathy, but only that; he wasn't trying to sear my soul or peek into my head like HE always had. Funny how HIS failure to read my mind had always me feel inadequate somehow.

Jacob's eyes showed only warmth, a warmth offered freely, without reservation or expectation.

I blinked first. And again, still not completely believing what I had said or Jacob's reaction. I expected … well I wasn't sure, but since everyone knew how bad I was for so long, I expected a told-you-so to start, or an interrogation about HIM and minutiae our relationship, or even a cold shoulder for mentioning an ex. I didn't expect the gentle response that demanded no follow up. He just leaned his elbows forward on his knees and looked at me, the cases left forgotten in a pile next to him.

Could I say more? Could I do this without revealing too much? Who would believe the grip HE had on me even now? I sat up and faced Jake, pulling my legs up a bit and crossing my ankles. I absentmindedly brushed a bit of sand off his knees and gathered my voice.

"He composed songs for me. A lullaby. It was..." my voice caught and in an instant Jake's arms were around me gently.

"You don't have to explain Bells. It's okay. Shhh, it's okay." His comforting voice repeated while I just sighed hard. Not quite crying, but far from calm. I didn't want to cry; I was broken enough.

After what must have been at least ten minutes I picked my head up from where I'd been resting it on his solid shoulder and he leaned his head against mine, his chin near the bridge of my nose. I imagined the remarkable picture we must have made. After a moment I allowed myself to relax; it occurred to me that this loose embrace was far more intimate than any hug I'd ever had, far more so than any contact HE had ever allowed. It was something I'd never had before.

The back of Jake's hand brushed my cheek, and I closed my eyes and leaned into the heat of his hand. Neither of us spoke. Leaning into his hand had brought me toward his chest slightly. My breath came a little quicker and I realized what I was thinking about... and going to do.

I opened my eyes partway and saw Jake's half closed eyes, his body moving forward, arms tightening to bring me nearer. I brought a hand up and wrapped my fingers around his bicep for balance. My eyes drifted closed again and I gave up thinking. I felt the warmth of Jake's face near me again and I tilted my head back. Tentatively, and slowly enough for me to pull away before real contact, Jake's soft and warm lips caressed against my cheek. I didn't pull away. I didn't wince. My heart pounded and my breathing sped through my nose and lips, mingling with the air Jake breathed too.

His lips moved closer to mine. One soft kiss after another overlapped on a trail to meet me. I turned my head to close the distance and stopped breathing entirely for a moment.

I'd felt cool marble that moved; never yielding to me as much as I wished it would, being wrought of a different substance than me. But the soft and heated flesh that moved against mine was a sensation that could not be constrained by the description of words. Jacob glided and caressed, he gave and did not ask for payment.

There had always been the awareness of risk with HIM, always the inflexible boundary: here and no farther. And always the knowledge that to be fully partnered to him meant death, in one form or other. As tempting as that apple of knowledge was, the fruit of that tree had been stripped away from me. Perhaps I should be thankful.

I gave back. I'm not an experienced kisser, but it wasn't my first either. It was, however, my first where I opened my mouth first and was accepted and not pushed away. We nipped lightly and explored each other for a few moments tentatively at first, then with growing confidence. A tiny sigh escaped me when Jake pulled back slightly, breathy and flushed. God, what must I look like?

He looked into my eyes and took a deep breath before letting out an awed, "Oh, wow!"

He was more eloquent than me. I just hummed in agreement, "Mmmmm."

A few precious seconds of looking into his eyes and I launched myself into his arms fully, moving my legs out of the way to eliminate any distance between us. His arms wrapped around me and I could feel his heartbeat -heartbeat- in counter tempo to my own. Jake was a pretty built (very built) guy, but his tissue and sinew gave way when my body pressed against him, our torsos melding together rather than mine wrapping around or being forced to mold to his. And he was warm, hot really. Any chill I felt off the water was counteracted by him.

We broke apart and I was sure somehow that something solid was growing between us.

Maybe it wasn't new, maybe it had always been there, and... Just maybe it had always been right.

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