A/N: Kudos to my beta, ShadowPast620. Thank you, readers, for all of the toughtful reviews you have been leaving for me and my plotbunny, Elmer.
Bella awoke to the smell of food. Groggily she rolled over, barely catching herself before sliding off of the couch, the new blanket extremely warm, comfortable and a bit heavy for her small frame that had never felt such a covering before. Pulling up on this new and incredibly nice luxury, she watched as her toes emerged from underneath, wiggling them in appreciation. They were clean.
She didn't hear him approaching, but the Paul man's voice stopped her wiggling appreciation, cold.
"Urchin, where are your socks?" he asked staring at her bared feet as he stood at one end of the couch.
Slowly, Bella pulled them back under the blanket she was clutching, not knowing how to answer him. Had she been wearing them last night when she left her room due to the rain? She should've been since socks were important.
"I thought you liked them. Are they uncomfortable?" Paul asked, setting down a glass and coming closer to her.
What was she going to do? She didn't know where they had gone, she'd just woken up. Anxiously looking around the room, Bella wondered if someone had taken them. In the Underground, she had learned to never take her shoes off; socks only when in a washroom. They were a well sought commodity and if you took them off, along with your shoes, chances were you wouldn't get them back. Bella had learned that the hard way a few years ago when she had tried to relieve a blister. Thinking it would be okay, she took her shoes and socks off despite the frigid air to allow her feet to rest.
Sometime during the night, someone had taken them, leaving a barefoot Bella to fend for herself. It wouldn't have been nearly so bad if there hadn't been a heavy freeze that night. The monsters had found her attempting to hobble back to her cubby, barefoot and crying. Their punishment had taken her two weeks to regain the ability to walk and another four to do so without pain.
Paul must have realized that somehow, someone came in to take them and he was probably really mad after having spent money to buy them for her. She had no idea how to make up for it.
When Paul finally looked at her, she didn't see anger in his face, but then plenty of times the monsters had also smiled, or looked happy before hurting her because her clothes had become too ragged, or she hadn't been able to find a new garment to replace something. Looking over his shoulder, she shut her mind down as to what would be coming. He may have said no to her advances the other night, but he could still hurt her other ways, especially since she didn't know what had happened to her socks.
Defensive mechanisms kicked in unbidden, causing Bella to remain conscious, yet slip away nonetheless.
He took one look at the nasty blankness shrouding his girl's eyes and panicked.
"Come on, Urchin, don't do this to me, please," Paul pleaded, dropping to his knees to meet her at eye level. Cupping her cheeks, he slowly ran his thumbs over her cheek bones, needing that dead look to leave her eyes.
"Are you cold?" he asked, failing to understand why she went zombie like. Pulling the blanket up from her feet, he grabbed her to rub his hands against the flesh, wondering if she was upset over her missing socks. Shit, he had bought her a few dozen pairs and could easily go grab a new set if need be. As he continued to shift the blanket, a brightly colored puffy thing appeared from in between the couch cushions.
"Look, Urchin, they're right here," Paul said, carefully dropping her foot and yanking out the first one then dipping his hand in the cushioned crevice to search out the mate. "I think you must have kicked them off in your sleep," he babbled while putting the socks back on her.
With the feet coverings in place, he continued to warm her feet trying not to sigh in relief as the tension eased from his girl, her eyes slowly coming back into focus until she looked at him with an impassive expression.
"See? It's all good. Don't worry about it." Leaning back on his heels, Paul watched closely to see if the zombie crisis had really passed or if his girl was about to zone out again. Once she blinked a few times, he sighed in relief and slowly stood back up, extending his hand to help her.
"Come on, Urchin. Let's get our day started and then we'll go grocery shopping. You know, if you feel like it?" Paul added hesitantly at the end. Grocery shopping wasn't a dire imperative, but he didn't want to risk getting too close to the edge of having empty cupboards. Of course, if his urchin wanted to stay home, he was okay with that, too.
Relaxation was not even the appropriate feeling Paul experienced when his urchin reached out to grasp his offered hand, watching his eyes the entire time she moved to stand and follow him to the kitchen. Jesus, when the fuck would they be able to wake up normally and crisis free?
"Umm, I just cooked some sausage and threw some frozen biscuits in the oven so we could have mini sandwiches," Paul explained nervously, looking at the pan on the stove.
Walking to the fridge, he threw the door open wide, rambling like a bitch. "So, we've got that or if you'd rather, I can make something else, but what do you want to drink?" Grabbing the milk, Paul swiveled around to face his surprised urchin.
"Do you want some?" he asked holding up the plastic carton. Her eyes darted to the coffee pot and reluctantly, Paul put the milk away. "Coffee's fine. Go ahead and sit at the table. I'll be right there."
Did he have any fucking right to even be mad at her for preferring coffee over milk? Trying not to slam his irritation with the cupboards, he grabbed two mugs to fill, watching the three minute coffee pot take twelve to brew one damn pot.
"Piece of shit," he muttered, flicking the hard plastic case as if it would speed up the brewing process. Agitation high again, he went back to the fridge to grab the milk, wondering how it was even possible he had forgotten he'd need that shit in the first place.
He had watched Urchin astutely the second morning and knew she was light with the milk but heavy on the sugar, making him wonder again if he had any right to try and control what she should and shouldn't eat. His hand waivered over the cup before he pushed away the insecurity shit and just made the beverage the way she liked it. They could talk about proper nutrition later.
Like never.
Back in the dining room, Paul watched as his girl ate breakfast, noticing how relaxed she was when the food of choice was to be eaten by hands and not utensils. It would be unhealthy for him to let her only eat finger type foods, but he'd make sure to try to swing the odds in her favor. He at least had the fucking insight to wait until she started to pick at her food before he began again with the questioning.
"So, Urchin, today is Monday which means you've been here for five days. Well, six if you count last Wednesday, but you slept most of the first day," Paul remarked causally, watching as her fingers plucked at the side of the half eaten biscuit on her plate.
When he continued to remain silent, she looked up with weary eyes, failing to give him any type of fucking iota as to what she expected.
"Yeah, so not that it matters or anything, but I was wondering if maybe I could ask you some more shit?"
Her nod was quick.
"Well, for starters can you tell me your name? I mean, you seem okay with Urchin and fuck, if you like that I'll sure as hell keep calling you that, but the rest of the people I know think its kinda weird and shit."
She continued to stare at him.
"So, will you tell me?" Paul specifically asked again, hearing the increased pulse before he noticed a tiny bead of sweat form on her brow.
Fuck! This was simple and not supposed to freak her out!
"Urchin works if you like it," he tried to placate. "Hell, I don't need to call you anything else, okay? I just thought it'd be nice if I could tell people a real name. You know, like if we're out in town or some shit?" As the silence grew the minutes became longer to Paul. It was obviously fucking clear as glass she wasn't going to give him anything as simple as a name.
"Right," Paul mumbled dejectedly. "No name for now. How about something easier then?" Thinking quickly, Paul decided he wanted to hear her talk. No answer or question just something retarded so he knew what she sounded like normally, the freak out scream from two nights ago not counting as a voice.
"Can you say my name? It doesn't have-" he cut off his statement as soon as she started to vigorously shake her head. "You can't say my name?"
-Continuous refusal.
"Why not?" Paul asked a bit disappointed. Urchin still didn't say anything, but she gave him some weird look; one that spoke volumes and was encrypted as fuck.
"Is there…can I do something to make you want to say my name?" He tried again, determined to hear her speak.
Urchin dropped her eyes first then lowered her head. She didn't move and despite already knowing she wasn't currently talking, Paul found himself leaning closer in an attempt to pick up some words…mumbling…hell, even a burp! He stayed stationary within inches of her form when Urchin finally lifted her head to nod yes. Paul was so fucking shocked by the action he almost forgot what answer he was waiting for and it took him a minute to realize she had kind of agreed to say his name!
Somehow…
He had to wonder if this was some kinky intimate shit his girl wanted. Like her offering to say his name was an honor and she'd do it, but he had to do something first to earn that shit!
Tact completely unknown, Paul just blurted out his request of "Tell me!" at full volume, his excitement overriding any and everything else that could be occurring. He never thought the idea of a girl saying his name to be kinky or any of that shit –bedroom activities excluded—but he was almost riding a porno vibe here, waiting to hear his name fall from her lips.
Paul didn't hesitate to follow his girl when she clumsily got up from the table and shuffled to the kitchen. Methodically she seemed to be searching for something, opening every door and drawer only to shut them when they didn't house whatever she needed.
"Do you need something, Urchin? You can just tell me what it is, whisper that shit if you want to wait until after I've done whatever it is I need to before you can say my name in a normal voice," Paul said excitedly.
His excitement took an abrupt dive once his girl pulled out a bottle of bleach. What the ever loving fuck did he need to clean for her to say his name? His shock only morphed into disbelief when she fiddled with the top to open the bottle then brought it to her nose to sniff.
"Jesus, Urchin, don't breathe that shit! It'll fucking kill you." Striding towards her, Paul grabbed the bottle from her hands to screw the lid tightly closed. "I know I said I'd do anything, but you want me to clean something?" he asked stupidly when she stared at him expressionless.
She didn't answer, though and Paul anxiously trailed after her when she walked to his room, freezing when she grabbed the notebook with the grocery list on it.
"Umm, okay," Paul said, wondering if this deal needed to include the promise of buying cleaning supplies. Did she think his house was a shit hole?
His confusion only increased when she ripped off the list to study it and then gently set it aside. Maybe she could read after all? All thoughts about what his urchin could or couldn't do disappeared when she tore off a second sheet of paper and then proceeded to give herself a paper cut with it.
"Shit, Urchin! Don't fucking cut yourself with that; give it here." Paul was at her side in an instant, unmindful that he still held the bleach bottle or that while he was inspecting her cut hand, the girl was trying to instill another paper cut on the other one.
He heard the near silent slice as it cut her hand and his anger bloomed. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop it!"
It wasn't much of a struggle, taking the paper away from his girl. Paul's anger simmered slightly at her look of acceptance and he wondered for the millionth fucking time what this shit was about. She watched as he balled up both the list and the blank sheet to toss aside. Then, for who knew why, she tried to grab the bleach bottle he had dropped in his rage.
"No, Urchin," he reprimanded incorrectly. "You can't use bleach to clean your cuts. Let me go grab the first aid kit." Taking the container of cleaner, he started to turn around, only to pause when her fingers brushed at his back.
"I promise I'll be right back. It's just in the bathroom."
Bella wanted to cry. She was trying to tell him the necessary steps needed to make her talk and he was mad just not in the right way. The bleach didn't smell like the same stuff the vamps used, but it did sting her eyes and she was sure it would be just as effective. The paper cuts, though, weren't as deep as the demons made using their nails on her skin, and the Paul man didn't have fingernails like they did. He wouldn't be able to cut her that way.
True to his word, the Paul man came right back, this time the bleach gone from his hands and replaced with several different boxes of band aids. He didn't say anything as he grabbed first one hand then the other to fit with tiny bandages for her fingers. When he was done, he looked at her in anger, making Bella realize that if she was going to talk for him, she'd have to push for hard punishment.
She really hoped that he'd ask his questions after each blow. She was prone to passing out quickly after the third or fourth strike.
"Urchin, I don't want to see you hurt yourself like that. It may just be a goddamn paper cut, but that shit is unnecessary," he told her.
Her mind was threatening to retreat into safety and Bella knew she just needed to get it over with. He was still holding her hand and she gave it a squeeze, a very sharp one.
"It still stings, huh?" The Paul man asked. His anger was fading, not increasing, and she worried what steps she'd have to take to get him to understand.
Trying again, she squeezed his hand until her own shook from the effort, failing to notice that while he could feel the pressure, it in no way hurt him.
"I told you that shit wasn't funny," he explained patiently, still thinking she was communicating her own pain to him. "Good thing I took the bleach away, otherwise you'd really be in pain."
Bella dropped his hand in frustration, her stare going to the floor. Everybody knew how to hit a person, men especially. The Paul man hadn't hit her yet, although if she had pushed the concept when she had tried to show appreciation, he probably would've…
The action started before she could formulate where it would end. Her hands went to his waist and tried to unsnap his pants. The Paul man's reflexes were quicker, though.
"No fucking way, Urchin. Paper cuts may hurt and if you want to, you can kick me or some shit but I'm not letting you take that pain out on my boys," he said, not even sounding angry but…amused?
Now he held both of her hands while wearing a silly grin. This was not working out the way she needed it to. Well, not her specifically, but if he wanted to hear her speak, the incentive had to be enforced. Lifting her right hand, she brought it to her cheek, staring imploring at the Paul man to understand and just get it over with.
Bella didn't understand why she wanted to make him happy and appease his wishes. Her actions would bring swift and blood curdling pain, but if she could give him what he asked for, especially since he had given her so much already, she'd do it. Even if it meant he'd get rid of her sooner.
His own features had softened, his large hand cupping the cheek she had placed it against as his fingers stroked the thin flesh. She pulled it away slightly from her face, hoping he'd understand. She may not have had strength behind her momentum but it was enough, his hand making an audible smack as she pushed it hard back across her face.
"What the ever loving fuck!" He screamed, literally jumping back a good five feet from Bella. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" trailing off, Paul tried to process what had just happened.
Fucking hell, he had been all giddy and shit, touching his girl's face and then he hit her? It didn't matter that the action had been applied by Urchin. It had been his hand that slapped across her cheek and he hadn't done a motherfucking thing to stop it, whether he knew it had been about to happen or not! Just as quickly as he had jumped away, he was right back in front of her, cupping her cheeks again, firmly.
"Urchin…Christ we need to fucking talk about this shit. I mean, one minute we're on some weird ass scavenger hunt so you'll talk to me and then you cut yourself and want to use bleach to clean it and if that wasn't enough to make my fucking heart sputter, you go off and let me hit you. What the hell is this all about?" Paul asked, watching her eyes closely.
He could smell the fear, happiness, contentment and sadness all rolled up into big fucking ball of emotional contradictions and wondered if he could figure out what the driving force was from her eyes. If eyes were the window to a soul then Paul decided in that second his girl's needed pressure washing cause he couldn't see shit.
Dropping Urchin's cheeks he took a step away from her, rolling his neck in agitation. "Look, if you aren't ready to talk, we'll let it be. However, I need you to stop fuck- grabbing my shit. Naked and messing around? Sure, go for it, but using your fear to goad yourself into sex with me is an absolute hell-fuck-no, got that?"
Dumbly, his girl nodded in understanding, or at least he fucking hoped she understood that shit wasn't cool. Taking in her total appearance, Paul felt like shit. His urchin wasn't the type of chick he'd ever willingly agree to see or want to date and while the imprint had surely fucked him over in a one-eighty, he couldn't deny that there was something very striking about the type of woman she was.
Like he had been for most of his life, she wasn't worried about the aftermath of her decisions and only acted in a way her immediate circumstances demanded. The fact that Paul was still fucking clueless as to what triggered her actions, pissed him off, but oddly enough they also made sense in a crazy-assed, senseless way.
Imprinting, Paul decided, was not only a gift, but also one fucked up, crack ride of being alive and he was more than willing to see it to the end.
The water from the shower head pulsed strongly as Denise adjusted the handle to the spot where she knew gave her a temperature of comfort. Humming softly to herself, she stood in front of the mirror to strip and then brush her hair before venturing into the tub for her shower. Her thoughts quickly turned to the man who would love her forever, Collin Littlesea.
A descendant through her maternal side from the S'Klallam tribes located around Sequim, Washington, Denise had been quite shocked when Collin approached her out of the blue at one of the city's summer lavender festivals.
Much like the puppy she later found out he really was, he had trailed after her and her friends for several hours, too shy to approach her outright. He was extremely attractive to Denise, but she became slightly concerned when on the second day of the festival, he showed up again to follow her around, never more than twenty feet away despite the throngs of people enjoying the event.
She waited until she had ordered a hamburger from one of the vendors before approaching the towering giant and several of his friends.
"Excuse me," she asked politely on her way to discard her paper plate. "You look familiar to me. Do I know you?" She had never seen any of them prior to the day before, but the opening was common enough not to be thought of as rude.
The three males had all fallen silent the moment she spoke, only the suspicious stalker one unable to make direct eye contact. Denise suspected one of his friends had given him a kick under the table before he spoke to break the lengthening silence and she tried not to snort in amusement.
"Uh, no, I don't think we've met before," Collin mumbled, finally looking up to her face. "Not that I would've forgotten if we had met before, somewhere, but if we had I'd have remembered your name, too. I don't think I could forget you."
"He'd like to know you, though," One of the others snickered under his breath and earning a kick of his own.
"Okay. I just thought I knew you from somewhere. My mistake." Continuing on her way out of the picnic area, she wasn't immediately surprised when Collin appeared behind her, flustered and nervous.
"I'm sorry for my friends back there," he apologized before thrusting his hand forward. "My name's Collin. They like to tease me and everyone else, for that matter. I hope you aren't mad or weren't offended or anything."
"Denise," she replied in kind, amazed at how gentle his hand shake was considering his size. "And, no, I wasn't offended." His hand still followed hers when she went to pull away and Denise giggled.
"Can I join you?" he asked sheepishly, a faint tinting of a blush marring his high set cheeks. "I'm not sure I've seen all of the vendors and booths and you seem to know your way around here."
"Sure," Denise agreed, deciding to give in and let him hold her hand as they strolled past the vendors and potted plants, eventually making their way into one of the nearby lavender fields where other people and couples took pictures.
It had been amidst the deep blue and purple hues of freshly growing lavender that Denise had received her first kiss from Collin unexpectedly, but wholly welcome. Another guest had decided they made a cute couple and had snapped their picture moments before the yet to be met Jacob Black appeared to retrieve Collin. Denise still laughed to herself when the photographer had turned out to be Jake's unknown imprint as well: Nadine.
Realizing that the shower had been running for some time now, Denise snapped out of her memories to climb underneath the water, a shriek of shock bursting forth when the water touched her skin.
"Collin!" Denise cried out in surprised anger. "Did you turn the washing machine on?" Fumbling to get back out of the cold water, she wasn't surprised when her wolf burst into the small bathroom.
"Dee, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Collin demanded, searching the six by four foot room diligently. His hand shot out automatically for her to grab and step out of the shower as he studied the enclosure carefully.
Denise waited patiently until Collin's body frame relaxed into normalcy before she spoke. To do so otherwise would mean she'd have to repeat herself. "I'm fine, Collin, except for the fact that there's no hot water."
"Are you sure?" He asked, his eyes darting back and forth between his imprint and the still running water.
"Collin, I do live with a werewolf. I think I'd know if there was hot water or not." With her teeth chattering slightly, Denise reached out to turn the water off and was stopped by her wolf.
"Come here," Collin demanded, taking over the task of wrapping the towel around his imprint and then hugging her close to share his heat.
With one arm wrapped around Denise he used his other to reach to the taps and fiddle with the settings, sighing in defeat when he couldn't get any hot water either.
"You could run a bath," Collin finally suggested, not liking the look of disappointment Denise had. "I'll even wash your back for you," he suggested as a bonus; more for him than Denise.
"I'm not about to take a bath in ice cold water," she mumbled, pushing her face back into his chest.
"Weelllll, you could run a bath and then I'll sit in the water for a few hours until it's warm," he suggested with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.
The scowl was instant as Denise raised her head to glare at her wolf. "Collin, it's not funny. We need hot water."
"I know, honey. Fill the tub partially full and I'll go boil some water for you so we can get it warm. Then I'll call Paul and see if he can come over and take a look at it," Collin said, instantly mindful of the situation at hand.
"Lahote?" Denise questioned, trying not to scrunch her nose in distaste. "Do we really have to call him?"
If there was a chance anyone else could've come over and helped out Collin, he would've jumped on it, knowing how uncomfortable his girl was around Paul. "I know you don't really like him, but he works construction and probably has a better idea as to what to look for than I do," he explained softly. "If we have to get a new one…" trailing off, Collin didn't want to state the obvious.
It wasn't like he and Denise were destitute or anything. They had enough money for food, clothes, utilities and their house payment. A new water heater, though, would probably cost at least four hundred dollars, cutting into their meager savings.
"Fine, but hold off on heating up the water," Denise sighed in agreement. "The last thing I want is for Lahote to be in our house while I'm naked and in the bathroom."
"Yeah," Collin agreed. "That's probably a good idea. He's changed a little bit, though. He did finally imprint."
"I know. Kim told Claire who told Regina who told me. Thanks for not telling me earlier," Denise joked with her man, not at all surprised he hadn't said anything sooner and happy to change the subject from money to pack gossip.
"I didn't purposely not tell you, Dee," Collin half defended, half pleaded for forgiveness from his imprint, his younger pack standing still evident in the way he spoke to Denise. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with his wolf, but Collin still felt weird about being one and all that it entailed.
The force of imprinting may have been what caused Collin to see Denise that summer day at the festival, however, even without it he still thought she was beautiful and perfect for him. True he probably wouldn't have found the courage to ever talk to her on the second day, but after a few months of constantly revisiting Sequim he could've managed to ask her out on a date.
Probably.
"It's no big deal," Denise reassured him soothingly. "I'm not mad that you didn't tell me, although you have to wonder what kind of woman the Guardians gave him. Good thing we only have to get together collectively at special events. I bet she'll give Leah a run for her money."
"Actually, she's not like that at all," Collin said thoughtfully, thinking over the shared moments of the pack mind. "At least not yet."
Stepping away from him, Denise walked out of the bathroom and down the short hallway to their bedroom, talking over her shoulder to a following Collin. "It's the quiet ones you always have to worry about. Good thing Lahote's such an ass. He needs a female to yank his ego down a notch or two once in awhile."
Collin was quick to dispute his imprint's thoughts. "I don't see that happening either. His girl came from an abusive lifestyle." Instinctually he watched as she dropped her towel to put on clothes. He may be slightly shy and friendly but he was still a guy.
"So?" Denise argued, pulling a shirt on. "Claudia says there are quite a few girls in her classes that come from tough homes and most of them are as mean as enraged animals."
"Dee, I don't think it's like that with his girl. Whatever she's been through, she can't even talk about it to him," Collin explained, watching as Denise stopped pulling her pants on to give him an imprint worthy scowl.
"Why would she?" Denise asked. "People don't like to remember their past and I'm sure Paul hounding her about it every other minute isn't helping matters."
"I…don't think he's even gotten to that stage, yet," Collin tried to explain tactfully. "They're still trying to figure out her name."
"Well, if I was her, I wouldn't want to tell Paul my name either. It's easy to see that he's trouble. I'm surprised she didn't just make something up to ditch him."
Collin just laughed. "It's not that easy, trying to ditch your wolf. She's feeling a portion of what we as wolves feel towards our girls. Leaving him would feel worse than telling him a false name."
"Which brings me right back to my point: His imprint is obviously a tough as nails type of chick." Patting the side of the bed, Denise waited until Collin was fully seated right next to her before reaching over to hug him.
"Imprints aren't always exactly like their wolves," Collin said in self defense. "Look at Sam and Leah."
"Those two are definitely more similar than not. Sam may be quiet most of the time, but I've seen him get snarky towards Leah."
"Only in self defense!" Collin exclaimed.
"Really, Collin?" Denise challenged in disbelief. "Explain to me exactly how chewing the crotch out of most of her panties could possibly be skewed as self defense?"
Opening and closing his mouth several times, Collin found it impossible to dispute that mishap. "Okay, so maybe they do have some similarities," he grudgingly agreed. "I still don't think Paul's imprint is anything like him, though."
"Did you meet her?" She asked.
"No, not yet. Sam was thinking last night on patrol about a possible get together to introduce her informally to the pack."
"That might be nice to do before Thanksgiving gets here and Paul's woman ruins any of the holiday festivities." Denise knew Collin was generally kind hearted and he seemed to be making an extreme effort to protect this unnamed girl. She trusted him, but until she actually got to meet the girl, Denise was not about to put out the welcome mat.
"Dee, don't be like that, please. You haven't even met her yet," Collin asked quietly. His girl wasn't mean natured, but Paul's imprint would require a lot of unquestionable understanding and care, not only from Paul but the rest of the pack as well.
"I'm not being like anything, Collin. I'm not going to be rude or anything, but if she's anything at all like Paul I don't want to be surprised."
Denise's words might have sounded bitchy to the casual observer, but Collin knew where she was coming from. Even with a genie, brain surgery and total memory wipe-out, it was hard to believe that any woman Paul associated with would be entirely different from him.
"Yeah?" Paul snapped, answering his phone. His urchin had been giving him funny looks all morning and damn if he knew what she needed or wanted, especially after the earlier incident.
"Paul?" came Collin's cracked voice. "Is it possible for you to come over to my house for a minute? The water heater has shit the bucket and I'd need to know if its fixable, or if I should be heading out to buy a new one."
"Buy a new one," Paul answered immediately not caring either way. He sure as hell wasn't the Rez handy man and being part of the pack didn't mean it extended to human form all the goddamn time, especially on his vacation.
"Come on, man," Collin cajoled over the phone. "They're kind of expensive. Just come over and see if it's fixable." He paused before a wisp of desperation slipped into his tone. "At least for a few more months."
The slimy fucker. Paul knew water heaters were expensive and he also knew Littlesea and his girl weren't made of money. He kind of felt bad for the guy, but today was already occupied.
"I can't. Urchin doesn't like strangers and she wouldn't feel comfortable at your place," Paul explained, not bothering to add that he really didn't want to take her anywhere until he was sure she wouldn't try to 'communicate' with one of the other wolves. His mind wouldn't be able to stay sane if he watched Urchin grab a pack mate's junk.
"So leave her home. I only need you for a few minutes. Please?" Collin asked, aware that Paul was quickly growing angry if the harsh breathing was any indication.
"You fucking owe me, Littlesea," he growled into the phone, eager to just get this shit over with. "I'll be there in ten."
"Hey, thanks, Pa-" Paul turned his phone off, not interested in any thanks. Silently he stood up and walked to the back of the house where Urchin had holed herself up in her room.
"Urchin?" came Paul's questioning tone from the door. Looking up, she realized he looked kind of disappointed. "Hey, I need to run over to a friend's house for a few minutes. Did you want to go?"
Shaking her head no, Bella worried he'd make her go anyway. It was quite possible the Paul man had decided to use a friend to make her talk and Bella's desire to share with the Paul man wasn't great enough to allow a newcomer to torture her. She couldn't mask her surprise fast enough when he actually agreed with her.
"I didn't think so," the Paul man sighed as if he knew what she was thinking. "But I thought I'd ask. I won't be gone long. Will you be okay here for a half an hour by yourself?"
This was the chance she needed to check on her supplies outside and make sure the bugs hadn't found anything. Happily she nodded yes she would be okay and waited for his final decision.
"Okay," he agreed sadly. "I promise I won't be gone long and then maybe we can do something together."
The hopefulness startled Bella and she found herself agreeing more out of amazement than desire. He turned and left her room quickly.
She didn't hear him leave the house, but was well aware of the empty feeling in the dwelling that indicated she was alone. Sliding off of her bed, Bella went to the kitchen to see if she could find some more supplies. Two cans of food and a napkin wrapped doughnut were all that she felt safe enough to take at one time. Remembering that she had also hidden some food in a cabinet, Bella went to retrieve it, frustrated when it wasn't in the spot she had left it. By the fifth cabinet search Bella knew she couldn't waste any more time looking for the sandwiches and other doughnuts. If the Paul man had found them, he had yet to say anything and that worried her.
Finally armed with her new supplies and wearing the warm jacket the Paul man had bought for her, Bella escaped out the back door in search of her hidden tree cache. For fifteen minutes she walked around the tree line surrounding the Paul man's yard, wondering why she couldn't remember exactly which plant was the one she had climbed a few days ago. A pair of socks on the forest floor caught her attention and as she pickd them up to study the frayed fabric, she looked above, failing to see any type of brown paper bag.
Had it blown away during the storm or had animals scampered off with it? It didn't take long to scale the tree and look about more closely, hoping to find a trace as to what had happened. If the socks were here, then this had to be close to the area of hiding, right?
Sooner than she would have liked, Bella was back on the forest floor, trying not to cry. Her first collection of supplies had vanished with only a lone pair of socks remaining to show for her efforts. If there had been more time, she could've dug a hole and buried the pack with the new ones for safe keeping, but the Paul man wasn't dumb. He'd notice the missing backpack and probably the dirty mess Bella would become if she tried to dig a deep enough hole.
A prickle to the back of her neck caused her mind to halt on hiding possibilities and informed Bella she was no longer alone out here.
Her eyes scanned the immediate shrubs and trees, wondering if today would be the day the demons finally found her. She hadn't noticed before, yet there weren't any animal noises. No skittering of critters in the trees or the sound of birds chirping. It was really creepy.
Scanning the area once again, Bella stared transfixed at the large animal that was suddenly close to her. It was hiding, sort of, but she could still see it was a huge beast.
Was it mean? Would it attack her when she turned her back and tried to flee? It probably had lots of sharp teeth and would ruin her new coat.
Not knowing what she should do, Bella slowly slumped to the ground. The Paul man would be home soon and then he'd be mad that she had gotten into trouble and he would have to come out here to scare the thing away.
What if he didn't bother to look for her, though? She had double upped her clothes and taken the backpack with her just in case. He might be really mad, thinking she had run away and not even want to look for her. Maybe he knew these weird beasts were out here and would be happy knowing she probably would be eaten since he had spent money on her and all she did was run.
Bella allowed the first tear to escape. For as scary as he could be, the Paul man was actually kind of nice. She didn't understand why he had been so upset about her trying to kiss him down there; no man had ever told her no before and the only time they touched her during the act was to either force her to be still so they could do the moving or to pull her away so they could spray her with their release.
He had sounded almost hurt though when she told him she didn't want him to touch her like that. Why would he want to? There was nothing pleasurable he could get from kissing her…there. It must be a new kind of humiliation tactic that had not been performed on Bella before.
Something warm touched her cheek and Bella head's banged against the tree trunk behind her in shock. The creature thing had stopped hiding and had crept right up to her to lick her cheek. Less than a hand span away, the large mouth hovered in front of her face showing Bella just how many sharp pointy teeth it did have. She didn't think the creature was mad, but it could still be hungry.
It made a funny sound, and gently pressed its nose against her neck before taking a few steps back to lie down in front of her.
Carefully watching the creature, Bella pulled the pack off of her back to open it. She didn't want to share her food and hoped to be able to hide more of it out here cunningly. However the present situation required that she try to distract the beast from eating her by sharing.
The one can of soup she had snagged bumped loudly against the can of fruit and Bella wanted to cry. In her haste to gather some staples, she hadn't thought about needing a tool to open them. How could she share now? The only other thing she had grabbed was a doughnut.
It was all or nothing. Unwrapping the napkin, she pulled the sweet dessert free and tossed it to the beast, trying not to panic when its mouth flawlessly caught the treat and swallowed in one motion. It made a funny motion with its lips and Bella would have thought it was smiling if creatures could do that. Smile or not, once the treat was gone, it didn't leave.
Unhidden and this close, Bella could clearly make out the color of its fur, a very light sandy color similar to a dirty snow. Its head was shaped differently and it had a longer tail, but it kind of looked like a real life version of Moonbeam.
The creature cocked its head to the side slightly, slowly panting, but otherwise unmoving. It made its funny sound again and then inched forward, lying its head back down on its front paws to stare.
Maybe it was a pet and not wild?
Bella wanted to see if this thing was as soft as Moonbeam. She figured if it was going to eat her, it would've done so already and even if it hadn't, at this close range, she'd be dead quickly. There wasn't enough space for her to get away and she might as well comfort herself somehow. Stupidly she allowed unsteady fingers to reach out. It –this bear thing- was…plushy. Gosh this creature was really soft and…
A loud bang caused Bella to sit back in terror as she looked towards the direction of Paul's man house. He was home now. Quickly she turned back to her bear friend wondering what she should do. It was gone.
"Urchin?" the Paul man yelled coming back outside and startling her thoughts about the missing creature.
Oh no. He would find her out here and wonder why she had a backpack and was dressed warmly.
Scrambling to her feet, she tossed the backpack into a bush, thoughts of coming back out later to properly hide the food and then return the pack. Bella really hoped he wouldn't notice the missing blanket, she didn't have time to try to shove it under her bulky jacket and smuggle it back inside.
"Urchin?" he called again, a lot closer and more panicky sounding.
Bella moved a few feet through the forest before emerging, not wanting to give away her exact spot to the Paul man in case he decided to look around. Staring at her feet, she stepped away from the pine beds on to grass, waiting for the questions and probably a few well deserved smacks for leaving the house without permission.
"Jesus, Urchin, what the hell are you doing out here by yourself? Are you okay?" The Paul man demanded.
Bella found herself picked up and embraced tightly, a funny feeling in her stomach. He sounded really scared and angry, but his touches weren't mean. In fact, he was being extremely gentle, one arm under her rump to act as a seat and the other braced vertically up her spine, the hand cupping the back of her head to his shoulder.
"Did something scare you, Urchin? I wasn't gone that long was I?"He asked while hugging her tightly into his chest. "Fuck, I knew I should've told Collin to fuck off and not left you alone."
The Paul man kept muttering bad words and apologizes mixed together as he carried her back to the house. Bella allowed herself to relax, thinking she would be okay and a bit happy he was concerned for her. It wasn't like she had missed him-missed him and panicked because he left, but nobody had ever convincingly told her they were concerned about what happened. The funny feeling was sort of addicting.
He sat her on the couch, unzipping her coat to hang up, still offering apologies and mutterings. When Bella pulled her left arm free of the sleeve and then twisted so Paul could pull the right one, his nose started to flare.
Extremely gentle Paul man vanished.
"Who was outside with you?" he asked in a scary voice.
Shaking her head negatively Bella tried to tell him no one had been outside with her, the bear beast being an animal and not a person.
"Did he show himself?" Paul demanded his rage sky rocketing. His urchin didn't need to lie and he also didn't really need her to tell him who he was. The wolf's scent was all over the fucking place.
His voice lost volume, but not ire as he continued to question his girl; fearful and angered over what she might have witnessed. "Did you see a wolf?"
Bella still shook her head. She knew a wolf was like a dog and that was no doggie that had been sitting with her.
"Did you see an animal?" The Paul man continued to ask in a very scary yell. "A large fucking dog; bigger than anything imaginable and with light colored fur?"
This time she froze mid-denial. The Paul man thought it was a dog, but Bella knew it had been some type of bear. His description, though, was too close to what she had seen.
"He approached you?" Paul screamed taking a step back as the rage consumed him. Of all the goddamn, fucked up things a pack mate could do, this had to take the cake.
He couldn't stop his own anger as his urchin lowered her eyes in fear and shame. Dropping the forgotten coat from his fingers, Paul grabbed his phone, not giving a shit about whatever he had previously promised his Alpha.
The phone rang and rang finally going to voicemail. Paul continued his incoherent swearing and curses, not in a way that could be thought of as a message, but enough for Sam to realize he had one angry wolf awaiting his call.
"Don't you dare fucking leave this house," Paul threatened to his girl when the message beeped the end of its recording. He tossed aside the phone and slammed out into the back yard.
He was able to disrobe most of his clothing save his socks before bursting into a snarling beast behind the tree line. He didn't need to track the trail to find his target, but did so anyway, the wolf within taking control as nature whizzed past the enraged animal.
"Paul?" came a surprised thought. "What's wrong? She went back inside didn't she?"
Paul could hear the man through the wolf link and blocked it out, intent on hurting the other wolf who had dared to approach his girl. Thoughts of rage blinded his intentions and need, the other wolf waiting passively for his brethren to make physical contact which came quickly.
Despite the wolf controlled behavior, Paul gave no growl or snarl of warning seconds before he rammed his body into the other wolf, his teeth attempting to gain purchase through the furred neck. His victim reared back and twisted away, confused, but intelligent enough to know this was not a joke.
For nearly fifteen minutes, the wolves battled, one projecting a steady stream of violence and the other trying to figure out what had set him off. Had Paul's imprint been hurt in some way, there was no way he would suddenly be here this quickly and definitely not without thoughts of her injury.
Paul was usually angry and violent, but it was often short lived, dwindling away as quickly as it had risen and with it, his need to remain a wolf.
"How the fuck could you expose us like that?" Paul growled out to the wolf once he had decided to expel his rage with fists instead of fur. His anger had yet to dissipate as he stalked closer on two legs.
"I didn't mean to show her. Paul, she was crying and had tried to climb the tree. I was worried she had hurt herself," Seth tried to explain, shifting back once he was sure Paul wouldn't phase again.
"You could've phased, changed into a man and approached her," Paul continued to yell, taking a swing at Seth as the younger male dodged out of the way.
Paul could definitely beat the shit out of him, but with his extra bulk came a slower approach. Just enough for him to continue this lethal game of dodge and weave.
"I wasn't thinking," Seth yelled back from behind a pine separating them. "I haven't seen her since the first day you brought her home and she surprised me."
"Surprised you?" Paul asked, stopping mid stride to stare at Seth like a piece of shit. "What the fuck do you think she felt when she saw your form? You could've given her a damn heart attack."
Paul's halt caused Seth to do so too, and it was in those few seconds, Paul lunged and grabbed Seth, pulling him clear of the trees to pounce on him in the yard. He continued to rain blows upon the other man, his fear and anger no longer two, but one emotion.
Seth could've howled. He could've yelled for back up and another wolf would probably have been over in a matter of minutes to help contain the pack psycho. Even with the look of death Paul was shooting at him, Seth felt he owed it to the man to keep it between them. With a surprise punch landed to Paul's throat, the attacker stumbled back on a choke.
Neither man had been cognizant of a third party.
"Oh my god!" Claudia yelled in distress. "Paul, stop it! Stop hitting him."
It was a delayed demand since Paul was already several feet away from Seth and massaging his throat in an attempt to regain his vocal chords to continue to yell. Seth did look like hell but when his imprint's voice cut through the tension, he leaned up on his elbows, in pain and gasping for air a little bit as well. Imprints were known to help center a wolf, yet when Claudia flung herself to the ground to wrap around Seth, his pain flared up.
"Get away from here, Paul. Just go home and don't come back. I cannot believe you," Claudia sobbed, clutching to Seth. Her wolf was bruised and torn up, but not much more than Paul was.
He stared at the girl clutching her wolf and his gut twisted uncomfortably. He wanted that! He wanted an imprint that loved him unconditionally and was willing to throw herself between two males fighting regardless of the circumstances. The wolf in him, the man that was his soul, wanted a woman that would put him on an imaginary pedestal and look nowhere else for anything she might desire because he was the answer.
Instead, he had a girl that couldn't even say his name and it burned.
Limping back into the woods without a backwards glance, Paul checked to make sure he hadn't broken anything. He felt like shit and would probably be bruised for a day or so, but he was fit enough to phase and did so, his grey fur erupting like a rippling canvas.
The spilt blood pulled at his wolf body, telling him he couldn't go back home looking like this. Detouring by a pond to wash away the signs of his fight, the frigid water caused him to shake once at the coldness as it sluiced over his nude body to remove the evidence.
Outside of his own house, Paul caught sight of a brown lump that looked like…it was! Reaching into a shrub, he pulled out a cloth backpack that had last been seen stored in the hallway closet. Why the fuck was it out here? Unzipping the bag, he could only stare at the cans of food and Urchin's blanket.
Had he she been trying to leave?
The evidence of his imprint trying to escape catapulted him right back to where he had been when Claudia had appeared. He still didn't have any type of fucking clue as to how he needed to help his girl and apparently she didn't want his fucking help. Not if she was trying to leave!
She was still glued to the couch, her eyes wide and blank when Paul finally came home. He stopped in the doorway, all of his previous despair momentarily pushed away once he saw her. He wanted to comfort her, let her cry on his shoulder…well maybe not cry, but a sniffle or two and then kiss her until she smiled. It was impossible, though. Not when he knew he had deliberately put that look on her face. Turning, he went in to the kitchen, mechanically preparing dinner, unaware that he was making spaghetti.
When it was done and he had prepared a salad, he carried it to the dining room, making several trips to bring in the necessary dining ware, drinks and condiments.
"Urchin, food," Paul announced in an equally dead voice as he sat down.
He wasn't aware that he watched her hesitant steps; that it was the wolf within who had gained the upper hand and was observing its hesitant mate. He made no move to converse with her when he ate, the wolf watching attentively from his peripheral as his urchin leaned close to her plate, her bites—mostly finger grabs - small and measured, so as not to draw attention from him.
When he was done, he stood abruptly, his imprint's fork clattering to the table when he moved. He didn't ask her anything or take her food away, locked in his own thoughts. He didn't notice when he sat on the couch that it was close to an hour later when she finally appeared to sit at the far end as well.
It was hours before his stupor lifted again, the TV running infomercials while his girl huddled asleep and uncomfortably far away from him. It wasn't a true sleep, his girl was restless. Turning the volume down low and shutting off the visual portion of his entertainment center, he finally reached for her to hold like a kid.
It was her shivering that penetrated his senses first, the man frowning as he searched for the blanket, remembering that it had been in the backpack he had gathered from outside. Carrying his urchin along for the ride, Paul found the pack and pulled the blanket out before returning to the couch. Fully ensconced in fleece, he cradled her, thoughts of what had happened in the past few hours marring any joy or happiness in the privilege.
"I'm so sorry, Urchin," he croaked out to the slumbering figure, his head dropping to press against hers. "I'm not mad at you; just worried. Please don't hold it against me."
Softly he nuzzled her face, delivering innocent kisses against her cheeks, forehead, closed eyelids and finally her lips. When his clock chimed midnight he shifted, lifting his legs to the couch and placing his imprint between him and cushions. If this was the only time he could have with her, Paul Lahote would take it.