A/N: I've been really excited by the response we've had to this fic – thank you so much for all your amazing reviews! Here's some more Jake written by yours truly. Enjoy! Oh, and Stephenie Meyer owns it alllll. I'm just running with her matches.

Chapter 3 - Jake's POV

Bella seemed to have bought my ruse to see her, which I'd facilitated with every piece of walking apparatus we had scattered around our little house, but it was lucky I went, anyway, or she wouldn't have had a ride. Something I kept repeating to myself so I felt less of a creepy weirdo.

I'd come up with a plan of action last night - tentatively entitled Operation Swan Hunt - step one of which involved me digging crutches out of the crawlspace; not so easy when you're six feet five and built like Optimus Prime. Step two was getting her cell phone number, step three was to slowly ease into holding her hand, and step four was to find some sort of excuse to meet up with her at least weekly. I had lots of ideas for our at-least-weekly dates - a sunset bonfire on the beach, a movie night, pancakes at the diner, ice cream on the promenade in Port Angeles, riding my bike along the coast road... and maybe even just sitting in my garage like we used to - her reading, me working on something, good music and warm soda...

Of course, step five was the difficult one. Step five involved her admitting her feelings for me and kissing me. But I could be patient - I'd waited for Bella Swan for a long damn time - I wasn't about to rush things now. Steps one to four should definitely be implemented before step five. Probably.

I was snapped out of my reverie as I noticed her shivering a little and I turned to her as we pulled up at some traffic lights. I was trying in vain not to get caught staring at her bare legs, which she'd pulled up onto the seat and was hugging.

"You cold up on deck there, B?"

Before she got a chance to answer with more than a shy smile, I held out my arm. "I'm practically always around grilling temperature. I blame the Mountain Dew. C'mere."

Her eyes widened but her body seemed to respond before her brain caught up. Suddenly, I had a Bella nestled into my side. Yes.

I cuddled her in close with my arm as she breathed out in what sounded suspiciously like relaxation.

"God that's better." There was a pause, and she reached up to press her palm to my forehead. "Shit, you really are hot. Mountain Dew, huh? It doeslook radioactive."

I nodded solemnly. "It's actually a huge conspiracy to turn American teens Communist."

She took over. "Well, where else are you going to get enough uranium except embittered former Soviet republics? Still, it isa worry. I want you drinking nothing but bourbon from now on."

I chuckled, and she turned her nose into the fabric of my t-shirt. I thought I felt her breathe in, but I couldn't be sure. That was because I got distracted at the sight of her pushing her hands between her thighs. Presumably to warm up her fingers, said the part of my brain still allowed some dwindling blood flow.

B reached for the radio, and messed with the dials till a classic rock station came on while I tried to preoccupy myself with thoughts of long-haired, skinny white men to avoid pitching a tent before we got anywhere near camping equipment. It definitely helped, and by the time we reached Wal-Mart I was pole-free and ready to continue pretending to be an adult male with more than a modicum of control over his twenty-first digit.

Bella hopped out and sighed in relief at the sign. I raised an eyebrow, unsure why anyone would be pleased about visiting Wal-Mart. She must have seen the question on my face because she explained: "whenever I came to visit I used to go hiking and fishing with Charlie - you remember? We used to go to this shop - Newton's Outfitters - and the Newton's kid, Mike, had a... big smile for me. As Charlie put it. He used to follow me around the store, and I was convinced he'd drilled holes in the changing room walls. I had visions of him jerking off to a CCTV camera using boot wax for lube."

I laughed but my hands twitched at my sides. Weird. I wasn't usually the jealous type.

The Sporting Goods section of the store was strewn with outdoorsy paraphernalia; camouflage nets and creepy mannequins stiffly showcasing the latest al fresco peeing techniques and dehydrated meal bags. Yum.

We rummaged through the racks for a while, Bella making little comments along the lines of, "my Gran has a similar carpet pattern, and that's with her aging kitty's leakage problem." Then I struck gold. Picking up a dark purple jacket with a hood, I held it out for Bella's approval. Ok, I may have gestured to the fine tailoring like a dick, but it got a giggle so it was more than worth it. Socute.

When she tried it on, the coat fit neatly on her delicate frame. She looked good; snug. I stood back so she could see in the mirror, and was about to ask what she thought when a man with spiky blond hair rounded the display, a predatory look on his face. I managed to stop myself from growling. Just.

"Well, who do we have here?" he smirked.

"Mike!" Bella made a strangled noise. "What the..?"

"I'm the manager here, Isabella! They snapped me up with my years of experience at the Outfitters. Hey, that looks really good on you, reallygood. Here, let me..." he trailed off and began flitting about her, "adjusting." Bella looked decidedly uncomfortable and I could feel my fingers curling up into fists in my palms, so I stuck my hand out.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Jacob. I'm here with Bella." I may have put more than a little emphasis on the "with."

His handshake was limp and sweaty, but at least he'd stopped touching her. His attention was only briefly diverted, however, and he quickly turned back to Bells. "So, what are you up to back home, huh? Seeing the Chief, I guess. I heard about his... injury. If you need to talk..."

Bella slipped the coat from her shoulders and replaced it on the hanger. "I think I'll take this, Mike; we're in kind of a hurry, if you don't mind. Going to get the old man, actually. Nothing can keep him down!"

Finally, he seemed to get the message, and looked a little dejected, running his hand through his spiked hair. Huh, it moved. I would have felt bad for him, but then I noticed he was staring at Bella's now coat-free breasts. Frowning, she crossed her arms in front of her and headed for the registers, Mike scurrying after.

I surreptitiously watched the transaction while examining the crampons; I didn't want Bella to feel pressured or crowded. It seemed she was okay with that, since when she came back over she slipped her free hand into mine and gave me the cutest grin. "Ready to go, Jake?"

I just knew Newton was watching us andthat I was pushing it, but I couldn't resist. I leaned down and brushed my nose with Bella's, just an Eskimo kiss. She started a little, but then her eyes closed and she nudged me right back. I felt my chest tighten and I squeezed her hand, wanting to try and convey that this was not all for show, that this was real, too. "I'm ready," I told her, trying for an intimate tone that would tell Handsy Mike that if he tried anything he'd be barging in on a private moment.

He waved halfheartedly from across the aisle. I grinned at him and nodded my head. "Bye Mark!"

Bella's eyes lit up with suppressed laughter, but we both managed to hold if off till we got to the parking lot. Then she grabbed my arm with the hand not holding mine and we both wheezed.
"Dear Lord, why me?" Bella complained to the sky, still giggling. "Why must you thrust Mike Newton into my path at every opportunity?"

"Mike?" I countered. "I dunno where he was, but my questions on what happened to Lance Bass have been answered. Times have clearly been tough since N'Sync."

She only let go of my hand once we got to the truck and punched me lightly in the arm. "I'm pretty sure Lance Bass is living in LA with his boyfriend, Jacob."

I shook my head, and she swatted at it while rolling her eyes, but as she went to clip me I caught her wrist and gently brought it to my chest. I leaned in a little closer and she caught her breath. Her eyes were so beautiful close up, with multi-colored irises like knots in polished wood. As her lips drew closer to mine I almost deviated from my plan and shot straight to step five.

Instead, I barely managed to hang on to a few particles of self-control and mumbled "that's what he wantsyou to think." She rolled her eyes at me and got back into the truck.

We arrived at the hospital about an hour later after an animated conversation on celebrities' sexuality (Taylor Lautner and Kristen Stewart - so gay), the best types of truck (F-350 and Ironhide) and my haircut (disastrous, apparently). I chopped all the length off a couple of summers ago. Bella pouted about this. I silently vowed to grow it out a little.

B practically jogged down the corridors as we made our way to her dad's room, and threw her arms around him when we got there. I'd forgotten how worried she must have been about him the past few days, especially last night, when she was on her own in the house. Charlie just chuckled and patted her on the back. He was in the best mood I'd seen him in in ages, which is to say he grunted hello and told the nurse not to forget to pack his toothbrush.

At that, Bella blushed and turned to her father. "You be nice to the nurses, dad, or I'm withholding your Vicodin."
"I am nice!" he protested, pretending to be shocked.

I helped Charlie out of bed and into a wheelchair, which he only accepted after I convinced him it was the fastest way out of the place. With Bella pushing, and me carrying his bag and discharge papers, we made our escape.

A light rain was falling outside the automatic doors, and we all turned our faces up to the drops, inhaling the freshness which blew away that horrible stale steel smell of hospital. I looked over at Bella standing in the rain. That was a mistake. Droplets had caught on her eyelashes and as I stared she poked out her pink tongue to catch a few more. Dear God. The girl who featured in approximately ninety-nine percent of my teenage fantasies was technically standing next to me, wet, with her mouth open. Technically. She was going to kill me without even trying.

Charlie interrupted my ogling with a grumbling cough, and Bella leaned down to fuss over him before moving off towards the truck. I swallowed and watched her go for a moment, trying to subtly readjust the crotch of my jeans. Thank fuck I'd bought the loose style. Hereafter known as the Bella Swan Is A Dick Siren fit.

I jogged over to the truck and helped Charlie on to the bench seat. He didn't even ask why we weren't in Bella's car; in fact he looked a little green. B's concerned face came back in force - it was really cute, featuring a slight pucker between her eyebrows and a bitten bottom lip - and she asked Charlie if he needed to go back inside. At that he sat up straighter and said he just needed fresh air. Bella giggled and motioned to the door.

"I sort of broke Jacob's window. We came here in his truck 'cos Ruby's battery's flat, but then I tried to wind down the window and it fell off the track thingy and down into the door. So you'll get plentyof fresh air on the ride home."

Charlie grunted, then nodded. Bella frowned and handed him a bottle of water from her bag before feeling his forehead and wrapping a big, fluffy blanket around his shoulders. He relaxed and let her care for him, taking small sips of the water and squeezing her offered hand.

"Hey, hey, Dad," she spoke in a soft voice, "this sucks, huh?" Charlie huffed in agreement. Bella's lips lifted at the corner of her mouth in a sweet half-smile. "And this trip's going to be really crappy, but just keep focusing on three things, okay?" He looked up. I busied myself tying Charlie's bag under a tarp on the bed. "Your recliner, my lasagna, and Sports Center."

He managed to bark out a laugh. I decided to join in. "Don't forget getting to wipe your ass on soft paper."

"Jacob!" Bella snorted.

"And sleeping in your own bed."

"Damn straight about that, son."

B jumped up into the cab and tried to get Charlie to move into the middle, but he motioned her away. "Let me sit near the window, Bells. It might be, uh, useful if we go over too many bumps."

Her eyes widened as she nodded, and she came around to my side and slid into the middle of the seat, helping her dad buckle in, then clipping her own lap belt into place. I got up into the cab tentatively, wondering quite how close this was going to make Bella and I, and how much I could get away with in front of her father. Our thighs were pressed together as we set off, and Bella's arm brushed mine every time I changed gear, but we weren't nearly close enough for my liking. Still, Charlie actually seemed tired out by the move and fell asleep pretty quickly leaning up against the door, so B put the radio on low. I was about to put the moves on - maybe another of my patented Jacob Black back massages (sometimes, I was even surprised at my own level of teenage boy lame) - when I looked at Bella. She seemed really upset, and I was pretty sure I knew why.

"It's fucking hard seeing him like that, isn't it?"

A tear rolled down her cheek and I held out my arm. She snuggled into my side. I tried to suppress a groan at the contact, but I couldn't help my speeding heart. Every time Bella touched me it was so good.

"It's just... he's such a..." her voice broke. I hugged her in tighter to me and stayed quiet, wanting her to finish her thought. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "He's just... strong and capable and infuriatingly independent and Charlie. He's not him like this."

I nodded. I knew just what she meant, and what she probably needed to hear. "But this won't last forever, B. And even if it did, even if he ended up like my dad, you'd be fine... because you love him."

"What if I can't cope? It's just me and him there, Jake... what-"

I held up my hand. "I'm going to stop you right there. You call me. Whether it's noon or three in the morning, you call me and I will come and help."

"I can't expect you to-"

"I don't want to tell you to shut the fuck up, Bells."

She giggled, then frowned and took to fiddling with the hem of my t-shirt. "When was your dad's accident?"

"2000."

"Could you tell me what happened? Not if you don't want to, of course."

I smiled and squeezed her arm again. "It's fine, Bells. It was pretty straightforward. My dad went off the rails a little after my mom died. That was when I was eight. He couldn't cope for a few years: cried a lot; drank even more. Wouldn't let anyone or anything comfort him. One day he was driving back from a bar after he had a few too many and took his car off the road into a tree. They had to cut him out."

Bella turned to look up at me, her expression filled with sadness and empathy. "I'm sorry, Jake."

I shrugged. "It was a good thing, in the end. It stopped him drinking and forced him to get help. He was in hospital for six months and had grief counseling along with his operations and physiotherapy. When he came home he hadn't recovered, of course, but it seemed like he could breathe again without pain. Almost as if losing his legs was payment for surviving mom." Bella gasped. I made a face and added, "I know that sounds sick, but I really think he felt so bad for surviving when she died. Almost as if the wrong parent got left behind."

She nodded. "It's a pretty common thing. Who looked after you while he was in the hospital?"

"My sisters, mostly, and Sue and Harry Clearwater. And your dad."

Bella looked up at me, her eyes wide.

"Yep. He went to see Billy almost every day, made it part of his rounds. And he'd come get me, Becca and Rach twice a week to visit with him, then take us for lunch at the diner afterwards."

On hearing of her dad's kindness, Bella's smile became small and wondering and there was a lull in the conversation. We both glanced over at a lightly snoring, well bandaged Charlie as we wove along wet, pine-lined roads.

Bella's voice broke the silence. "What's it been like taking care of your dad?"

I laughed a little. "Challenging. Most days I want to murder the bastard." She laughed and shoved me in the chest. I caught her hand and laced her fingers with my own. "Nah, it's fine. I have a routine - laundry, groceries, cleaning up. He does his share, too. We're a good team."

"But do you ever wonder what your childhood would have been like without... all the..."

"Shit?" I finished for her.

"Well... yeah."

"Sometimes. I try not to. But if I'd had a more... normal time of it I wouldn't be me. I'm not saying it's been some dumbass character-building trial or whatever, but being pissed off about your life is pointless - it just makes you sad and bitter and I never wanted to be like that. I love my dad. The time I had with my mom was amazing. And though I miss my sisters, I know they'd move mountains to get to me if I needed them. I'm damn lucky."

Bella was looking at me as if I was speaking in tongues. "Jake... you're amazing."

I could feel my face beginning to burn, so I just ducked out of the way and kissed her head. "I'm all right. Plus, now that you're back I have someone new to play with."

She raised an eyebrow, and I had a hard time keeping my eyes on the road.

We got to Bella's shortly after that, which was probably for the best. I'd spilled enough of my guts. Charlie woke up with a start as I pulled onto his uneven drive and seemed very pleased to finally be home. I helped him down, and we shuffled towards the front door as Bella ran ahead to open it and clear the path. He seemed to visibly relax once inside his own front door, but I didn't let up supporting him till we reached the living room.

Charlie sank down into his recliner with a deep groan. Once the pain of moving had subsided, he looked at Bella and I and gave us a huge grin, then pulled the recline lever. We both laughed at his enthusiasm, but I turned away quickly, trying not to butt in on the father-daughter moment. "I'll grab Charlie's bag from the truck."

She nodded. "I'll make some coffee."

When I came back in with the duffel I laid the bag down in the hallway and followed the delicious smell of brewing coffee into the kitchen. I heard Charlie's snore before I even realised he was asleep. Bella shook her head. "I think it's a police thing. He can pass out within seconds of lying down, and he can sleep anywhere. I once caught him leaning against the fridge, totally out, with half a chicken leg in his hand."

B poured two cups, and put out a jar of cookies that looked homemade. I sat down at the little wooden table by the bay window and started on the jar. The cookies were oatmeal and raisin and so freaking good - moist and chewy, with just a little bit of crunch.

"Be-wa, di' oo mak thes?" I mumbled as I stuffed my face.

B grinned. "I was all worried yesterday. I bake when I'm worried. You like?"

I nodded vehemently, attempting not to spray her with crumbs as she put a cup of hot coffee in front of me and took a cookie for herself. I was wondering how I could engineer staying longer, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Dad. Damn it. WEN R U BACK? he wanted to know. CANT REACH WAFFLES IN FREEZER. GOING INTO DIABETIC COMA. ALL YR FAULT. PS BRING A 6PK OF VIT R.

"I better go." I showed Bella the text and downed my coffee before kissing her on the head. I'd gotten away with it twice now. Win! She nodded, a contemplative look on her face. I was just about to suggest I call her later to see how she was doing when I realized... I had no way to get in touch with her.

"What'syournumber?" I stumbled out way too fast. "In case, you know... emergencies." She smiled, and recited it. I punched in the number then called her phone so she had mine too. Step two completed. Heh heh heh.

I got my first text from her when I was half-way home, after I'd picked up dad's beer, and a bag of cool ranch Doritos from the 7-11. From Bella: You've got oatmeal in your hair x.