Thank you ANGEL FALLEN FROM HEAVEN, Angelwithoutwings85, InazumaNina, Apocalypse owner, MariMart, birdy, Quyiken, Cestrenes97, PixieDustRed, Ksave, Mae, dog1056, Elia the Huntress, Tracer28, Absurdium est, bcrepn, HermoineX, Tessfan, XxXLuvTheOriginalsXxX, jazz and Guest for reviewing, as well as everyone who faved/followed this story. You guys are so wonderful, and you truly light up my world. Sorry if I forgot anyone!

You may also notice I've renamed the chapters. They're all lyrics of Taylor Swift songs from her album 1989. Thought we could go with a theme.

birdy: That would be too easy! First comes suspicion and spy vs not very sneaky wolves! Thank you so much for reviewing. I love seeing your reviews!

Mae: Aww, thank you! I'm so glad you like Natasha and her story. I do believe that's the highest praise a fan fiction author can get. *blushes* You and your stalker are welcome!

jazz: I'm so glad you agree with me, (cause this is one crack ship) I am definitely continuing the story. I've grown too attached to it to let it wither away. Thank you. Your review is so kind.

Tessfan: Thank you, so do I! I'm joking. Mostly. I do have it planed out a bit, but there's a certain stage I haven't had to write yet where I've only got a vague idea what I'll do. Hopefully that'll change soon!

Guests:

1) Thank you so much! YOU'RE WONDERFUL.

2) Hmmmm. I'm thinking about it. It's something I've considered a lot. omg, typing this, I finally know what I'm doing. Yes, yes he will be appearing! As for the bucky/nat I don't know, but there will definitely be a friendship between our leading ladies. It's something I really enjoy writing. No Cullens. This story is not about them, though they will be referenced. Avengers on the other hand... Guess you'll just have to wait and see! And don't want to spoil any more for you, but Natasha will definitely be doing some but kicking. Seeing Steve in his uniform... I have yet to figure that out. Maybe snort laughter, but also get slightly flustered? I don't know. Thank you for your review! I love reading and answering it!


The pack met at ten in Emily's kitchen, which she had transformed into a war room, whiteboard by the window, with what looked like a game plan mapped out in marker. Emily herself was armed with a laser pointer, standing tall in front of the troops. She sent Leah a reassuring smile when she sat down on the kitchen bench.

"Wow, um, you really went all out," Leah observed.

"They wouldn't let me use the council rooms," Emily sounded annoyed.

"Because teachers are discussing teaching our language at the local schools. That was deemed more important," Sam was amused at Emily's annoyance, "As it should be," he told said.

"Okay people, listen up!" Emily roared over the cacophony of voices in the kitchen. Silence.

"I know everyone has heard of Steve's massive win over Sam in a strength competition," she said.

"Thanks dear," Sam said dryly from his place at the head of the table.

"I'm keeping you modest," Emily told him, and even Leah cracked a grudging smile.

"We have got to figure out how he got so strong. Where does he come from, has he got a record. Does he know about us? What are his intentions?" Leah thought Emily was enjoying being the General way too much, though she had to admit, she was good.

"I've been told Seth and Quil know a kid from school who can hack anything," Emily continued.

Seth nodded, "He's super bored at the moment, so he'll love a job."

Leah gave him a suspicious glare, and he stared back innocently, shrugging.

"Embry and Paul will be in charge of tracking his every move. Jared can go through his things while out-"

"Hey!" Leah snapped.

Emily sighed, "Leah, we are only doing this for your and the packs protection. They might be really bad at showing it, but they really do care about you," at this, the pack murmured, a mixture of mmhmms and nuhuhs, which Emily ignored. Though Leah couldn't help but be surprised at the number that agreed with Emily. The ones that didn't smiled cheekily at her, just like Seth used to do. The only outlier was Paul. Everyone ignored him.

"I care too. Steve and Natalie seem like nice people. But given the evidence mounting up against him, Steve is not... normal," she said earnestly.

"I could just ask him," Leah said desperately.

"If he asked what was weird with you, would you tell him?" Jared asked. Leah paused, thinking about it. The question did not seem as scary as it had before the bonfire.

"Yeah," she realised, "I would."

The pack was silent. Emily took a breath.

"You know him best, Leah. And we trust you. Ask him. But if he doesn't tell you..." she trailed off. Nobody wanted to say it.

"I know," Leah said, sliding off the bench, "I'd ask for a lift, but I think that would just bring back bad thoughts," she grinned. Sam and Paul groaned.

As she left, she heard Sam mutter to everyone, "no scent, at all. Whoever it was knew what they were doing."


Steve was walking back to his motel room after a morning jog. Leah caught up to him just as he entered the motel car park, trying not to drool at how his sweat soaked shirt stuck to his body. It was incredibly difficult.

"Hi Steve," Leah said, and he turned, grinning at her.

"Hey," he said cheerfully, getting the keys out of his pocket, opening the door. He gestured for Leah to go in, following after her. He showed her the minuscule kitchen table, nothing like the behemoth in Emily's kitchen, opening the fridge and offering her a drink. When she shook her head, he grabbed orange juice and a glass, gulping it down.

"I had fun last night," Leah said.

Steve grinned, and some orange juice spilled out of his mouth. Leah winced.

"Me too," he said, trying to wipe the sticky orange juice off his chin as he blushed.

"You know, I have never seen anyone beat Sam in anything like that. How did you do it?" Leah asked him.

He froze, horrified, the pink draining out of his face till he was a stark white.

"Guess I just train a lot," he said weakly, not meeting her eyes, "army and all."

Leah felt the sinking feeling in her stomach of when someone you love lies to you. She stood up.

"I'm going," she blurted out. She didn't let Steve see her to the door. Once she'd slammed it behind her, she took off at a dead sprint. She didn't know where she was headed. She just needed to run.

Maybe the reason she was the fastest was because she had the most problems to outrun.

Eventually, Leah found herself at the cliff, staring out to sea. Sitting down, she curled into a ball, watching the water toss and turn like some kind of massive monster. Having the wind buffet her hair around, whipping droplets across her face had a calming affect. Listening to the waves crashing into the cliff was hypnotizing.

Knowing that to the ocean, she was nothing but an insignificant human was somehow peaceful, calming.

After an hour, Leah stood up. Emily was right. Something had to be done.

But Leah was going to do it her way.


She was back at Steve's little motel room, crouching under the window. Muffled voices murmured inside. She heard the sharp jangle of keys, and the front door opened.

"Can we get those pastries with the chocolate cream?" she heard Steve ask hopefully.

"You're like a child," Natalie grumbled, and Leah heard a car door being opened.

"Is that a yes?" Steve teased, and another door slammed shut. She heard an engine start, then tires squealing on gravel. Soon, the thrumming of the engine had melded with the sound of the wind in the trees, until it was gone completely.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up, testing the window frame gently. It was stuck. All of the motel's windows had been melded shut by the wind and rain and years. Most guests just assumed they were locked. Leah knew better.

Glancing around, she used her inhuman strength to lift the window pane up, and slipped inside, landing on the bed placed directly beneath it.

Catching a whiff, Leah knew this was where Steve had been resting. She had to fight the urge to snuggle under the warm blankets, made stronger due to her guilt. She stood up. Despite having flopped on the bed, the sheets were still perfectly tucked, tightly folded, perfect hospital corners.

Well, he had said he was military.


Paul was not having a good day. Someone had ruined his prized possession last night, and he had a suspicion that they did something under the bonnet as well. He'd have to wait to go to the shop to see, but his baby was not running as smooth as usual.

And that ass Steve beat Sam in a stupid arm wrestling match. Paul knew very well if he could beat Sam, Steve would have beaten him in a fight too.

But of course, everyone's nervous, so he had to get up at seven in the morning to go to a stupid meeting at Sam and Emily's. Then there wasn't even any food left, because Emily gave all the leftovers to that red head last night.

So Sam sent him to the local shops to pick up some food. Thanks.

That was bad enough, but on the way there, Paul got pulled over by one of Charlie's deputies, and got a ticket because both his taillights were broken (which, you know, not his fault). The deputy told him it's not his fault either as he wrote down the sum.

He got to the shops to find that all the good food is gone, because some asshole in Forks is having a massive party. So he's stuck with the home brand crap. Then at the checkout, he was a dollar short, so he had to ditch the chocolate bar.

By then, Paul was fuming. Both his arms were shaking as he carried the groceries to the car, and his grinding jaw was giving him a blinding headache.

He dumped the bags in the back, and started up his car. He made it all the way out of the car park and onto the street until his car broke down.

Practically spitting, he slammed his door so hard he heard a hinge snap. That caused him to rip the hood up, and unfortunately, off. Yes, literally. And he still couldn't see what the fucking problem was.

At this point, he was not even trying to stop the shift when it happened, right there in the middle of the road. Even in his extremely angry state, he knows he has to run. He pushed off his hind legs, ignoring the left leg of his jeans that was still wrapped around his foot, and jumped around, toward the forrest. Something large and black out of the corner of his eye. BANG. He was flying through the air. He flipped himself around to land on his feet, and he was off into the trees.

"Should we call that in?" Steve asked, stunned, as he and Natasha watching steam curl up from underneath the squashed bonnet of her car.

"To who? The auto shop or animal control?" Natasha snarked back.


Leah quickly realised that Natalie must be staying in another room, as the small room remained empty of any feminine objects.

She had found two things of note in her search. She wasn't sure which was scarier.

In the bedside drawer was a sturdy, high grade torch, and some kind of large hand gun. She didn't know one type of gun from the other, but it looked nasty. The draw below contained a large drawing pad, filled with notes and sketches, and the occasionally beautifully detailed landscape or portrait. Leah felt guilty for looking through something that what was obviously private, but knew she'd rather do it than have someone else.

The first few pages were filled with black and white sketches, of forests and ruined cities. A group of men, resting around a camp fire, laughing. A handsome man in an old soldier's uniform. Then a beautiful woman in a flattering red dress, curls pinned precisely to her head. As Leah flicked through the pages, the woman popped up again, smiling, laughing, frowning. Leah's favourite of the woman was where she held a gun in both hands, fierce look in her eyes as she shot at something Steve had not bothered to draw.

About midway through the pad, other people were introduced. Natalie lying on the beach, scowling over her sunglasses at the viewer. A huge blonde man playing scrabble with two petite women. Sitting at a lab was an older man sheepishly hiding behind glasses and curly brown hair. Next was a page with two men side by side. The first was younger with a mustache and a lab coat, smirking. The other wore an AC/DC shirt, arms crossed, similar expression on his bearded face. Leah though they looked strangely familiar.

The last few pages were filled with sketches of beautiful eyes under sharp brows. As Leah flipped through, she came to the final sketch.

She was beautiful. Leah remembered that night on the beach, the first time she met him. He'd captured the odd, conflicted feelings in her eyes. Steve must have drawn it from memory.

He knew she was broken too.

Leah dropped the pad into the drawer like it had burnt her, slamming it shut. She dug her fingernails into her shaking fists, trying to breath. Scrambling to the floor, she looked under the bed. A large, square art folio sat there. It was huge, thick to the point the seams were strained slightly.

Leah wasn't sure she could bare to look at more paintings. But if she didn't...

She slid the folio towards her, turning it around to find the zip. It was lighter than she had thought, considering it's bulk. To her surprise, there was a small padlock. Her lock picking skills were zero, but she could force it open. But then he'd know someone had been there. She grabbed the side seam that was practically splitting already. Maybe if she just ripped it a little, she could have a small peak.

It was locked for a reason. Maybe he's an art thief, she thought dryly, ripping the seam open by half an inch.

In the little window she had created, no paper or canvas could be seen. All that was visible was some kind of lightweight metal, painted bright cherry red. Holding it in her hands, Leah realised the package was circular shaped. Too thin to be a wheel. And wheels were straight, not concave. Maybe a bowl? Or perhaps her stupid joke to herself was right, and it was some kind of modern sculpture.

On a hunch, Leah pinched the edge of the metal between her thumb and her forefinger. It was too light to be that strong, and it should have bent like melted butter between her fingers. The unknown metal didn't give at all, remaining as perfect as before.

The sturdy black gun appeared in Leah's head. Along with the immoveable metal, it didn't paint a pretty picture.

She jammed it back under the bed and sat, crouched on the cold floor, thinking. He said he was in the army... but no amount of training could have given him enough strength to beat Sam. No amount of drugs, either. The sound of a car approaching flickered through her ears, but her concentration remained on the questions circling inside her head.

He isn't human, she concluded. Keys sounded in the front door, snapping her abruptly out of her thoughts.

She leapt onto the bed, squeezing through the window once again.

"Hey!" a familiar voice yelled. Leah broke into a dead sprint, bare feet crunching on dried pine needles as she raced through the forest. She couldn't see him, but she could hear Steve catching up, hot on her heels. That should have been impossible. Not even Sam could catch her when she started running.

Mid leap over a fallen log, she shifted. Her clothes split into pieces, falling into bushes, on the ground.

No matter what Steve was, he couldn't catch her now.


Having lost the trail of whoever-or whatever-had looked through his room, Steve turned around to head back out of the trees. As he turned, he spotted a misplaced scrap of blue out of the corner of his eyes. Crouching, he picked it up, turning it over in his hands. He heard footsteps, and Natasha appeared, trying her best not to pant.

"You didn't catch them?" Natasha frowned.

"Too fast," Steve said, rubbing his chin slowly, turning the cloth over in his hand.

Natasha cocked her head at the gesture, "Out with it," she ordered.

"I could swear I saw a person-a human figure running, but once we got into the trees..." he stood up and handed her the cloth, "it was grey. And bigger. A lot bigger."

With a look, he told her his suspicions about the huge wolf in the middle of the road.

"This looks like it came from a shirt. See part of the collar?" Natasha pointed out.

"There's more. Little pieces, scattered around here," he pointed. He and Natasha spent the next half hour collecting clothing scraps. There was denim too, from what appeared to be a set of jean shorts.

"What happened here?" Steve asked himself quietly, unable to make sense of it. Someone's clothes had been ripped to pieces, yet there was no blood. Not on any of the scraps, or the ground.

"I'm calling for backup," Natasha snapped, marching back to the cabin. Steve knew her well enough to know she didn't want to admit that she didn't have any answers.

He trailed after her, trying to convince himself it was a coincidence Leah had been wearing the same thing that morning, when she ran when he lied.

He got out his mobile to call her.


Please review. A second of your time makes my day.