Author's note- I just returned from camp! So I apologize for the wait ;). But good news, no more trips for me! So, I will speed up...hopefully. Enjoy!

Thanks again to Warui-Usagi for the flawless betaing that makes this story easier to read!

Disclaimer.

"But I don't know what I want to do for my party," Claire whined through the spread fingers covering her face.

"It's not a million dollar question, Claire," Chance complained, tapping the pencil on the notepad in front of her. Her little sister sighed and blew an extended breath up into her bangs.

I bent down over my girl from behind and wrapped my arms around her folded stomach. "That's okay, C, we'll figure something out for you." I pressed my lips against the smooth skin of her cheek, smiling against her face as Seth and Embry made gagging noises in the background.

"Thanks," she whispered, falling into me.

My heart was pounding evenly in my chest until the realization hit me again. Two days. I had two days until Claire was sixteen years old. Needless to say, the strong muscle beneath my breastbone wasn't so calm after that. Forty-eight hours. I could practically taste the day when everything would finally be under my control, when Claire and I could decide amongst ourselves what would happen between us and when.

"Quil?" The lovable voice that I'd been mesmerized by for years hummed in my ear.

"Yeah, Claire?"

"Do I have to have a party?" Her big, round eyes were soft around the edges.

"Not if you don't want one, of course not."

She sucked the corner of her balmy lip between her teeth and shaded her eyes with those long lashes by glancing towards her feet, "because I kind of just want it to be us."

My blood went hot and I felt a delighted smile swim across my face. I bent down and kissed her again on the cheek, letting my lips linger there as I murmured, "that sounds good to me."

It had been hard to separate myself from Claire today. I mean, it was always hard, but for some reason it was especially difficult as the date loomed closer on the calendar. The big 1-6. I still couldn't believe it.

The spinning, green sphere plummeted back towards me as I grabbed it out of the air, tossing the tennis ball back towards the ceiling. Claire sat in the corner of her room, plucking bowing scales from her guitar strings.

"Peach taffy," she said, her voice bright.

I snatched the ball as it whizzed down towards me again, "come again?" My amusement had crept into the tone.

"You asked me what my favorite candies were." Her eyes twinkled as she glanced up to me from the ground and my heart sped in its place.

"I asked you about an hour ago." I chuckled loudly.

"But I had to take the time to think about it first."

I walked towards her and stole the guitar out of her lap, taking her into my arms. "Well I am so glad that you chose to inform me." I pressed my mouth against her puckered lips, tasting the saccharine tingle of a peach. "Have you been eating them over here?" I asked, laughing. She nodded, pointing down to a few opened wrappers and full bag of gooey treats on the floor.

She attached her lips with mine again and slowly dipped her tongue into my mouth, allowing the sweetness to seep from her to me. "Can you tell?" Her voice was mischievous and caused the excited sparks in my stomach to jump to life.

I only answered her with another kiss. Her fingers tangled themselves in my hair, tugging and wrapping in a way that made me shake. The heat thudded through me, throbbing deeply under my stomach. My breath came in gasps by the time we stopped, my heart thundering beneath the ribcage. The sickening pain in my head was making blood pound in my ears, I was definitely anxious for that to be over.

"Quil?" Her voice was so soft that I could barely hear it.

"Yes?" I barely got the word out through heaves of oxygen.

Her chest expanded and deflated in my arms, her skin fevered. "I love you."

Those three little words meant more to me than anything else that had ever been uttered by a human being, "I love you, too." I took a deep breath and brushed my lips over the top of her head.

She smiled timidly, her hand shaking as she raised it towards my forehead, scraping some of the hair away from in front of my eyes, "will you show me?"

I blinked a couple of times, attempting to register the question before my brow furrowed, "what do you mean?"

I heard her heart beat jump as she readjusted in my arms, "well…I mean…not now—but y'know…in two days?"

What she was trying to get at sat locked away in the back corner of my mind, refusing to show itself for the sake of my sanity. "Huh?"

Her eyelids exposed themselves as she glanced towards the ground, wringing her hands and chewing on her lip. My heart drooped at the sight.

I picked up her nervous hands and held them tightly in my grasp, "I'm sorry, Claire. I just don't understand what you're trying to say."

Her eyes flashed. "Are you going to make love to me on my birthday or not?"

My heart stopped entirely as the sounds projected from her mouth. A fist shoved its way into my throat as I choked on whatever air had gotten trapped in my lungs. And then?

Silence.

"I—I…Claire…it's just that…" It's just that I've wanted this for so long that now that it's here I don't know what to do about it.

Her eyes were upset as I snuck a glance down at them, "it's just what?" Her tone led to negative places. "It's just that you don't want to?" She couldn't escape the crack in her throat.

I began to backtrack, "no, no, no, no! Claire, you've got it all wrong."

She scowled, "do I?"

I sighed, a long, heavy breath that seemed to carry all of my burdens in its width. How did I explain to the beautiful girl…woman…young adult in front of me that she might still be too young? How did I say that even though I wanted more than anything to be as close to her as physically possible that it might not be the right time?

A deep seeded craving in me ached at the thought of having to wait longer, but the logical side of me acknowledged the truth in the statement.

Claire was only sixteen years old. Barely. She wasn't even in college yet, and she was young for her age. I couldn't do this to my Claire, to my best friend, to my baby. I'd watched this precious thing sprout from her earliest days; I couldn't deflower her when she was only sixteen years old no matter how badly I loved her. It just seemed so wrong…

But the heat that was pulsing through me begged to differ—the want that tightened in my chest whenever I was around her pined for the day when it could show Claire what she meant to me in a physical way. I wanted her to know how much of me she held in her tiny palm. I wanted to be as much a part of her physically as I could ever be.

But she was only sixteen. Was the crazy love I had worth tainting her for when she was this young?

The crestfallen look in Claire's eyes wasn't aiding me in the internal battle. I could see that she wanted it, sense that she felt the same way about me as I felt about her.

Would it be considered as immoral as it seemed in my head in our situation? Regarding the fact that we'd been each other's soul mates for over fourteen years?

I didn't know. And I had no clue who to ask. But I knew I had to say something.

"Claire…" my voice waned into a soft breath, "you're only going to be sixteen."

She rolled her eyes and went slack in my arms, wiggling out from my hold. "That is the most cliché excuse I've ever heard."

"It's not an excuse!" I told her, capturing her tiny wrist with my hand and spinning her back towards me. "It's reality."

Her lips pursed as she grew red in the face, "No, Quil!" Her voice was loud, "You want to know what's real? What's reality? Reality is the fact that I have been in love with you like I am right now for over three years and cared about you as my one and only soul mate for a lot longer than that." The fire in her eyes flared angrily. "So forgive me if I don't quite understand why a societal norm is keeping us apart, because we are anything but normal."

She wrenched her arm from my grasp and stormed towards the door. My head fell heavily into my hands as I heard the old car's engine turn over and Claire drive away. Again, without a license.

The hardest part about it was that she was right. It was impossible for me to face the fact that we weren't normal, no matter how hard I tried to pretend we were. I'd been waiting for this birthday for fourteen years. I had phased at least three times a week, no matter how hard my body protested and no matter how tired I was, to make sure I didn't age. I had paused myself into this state of constant delay and anticipation.

And finally, it had all caught up to me.

But now that the hook was in my mouth, I had no idea how to swim. I didn't know how to act around Claire anymore. I didn't know how to treat her as a…lover. She'd always been my precious little bundle, a sister, a friend, a cousin, a 'girlfriend' kept at relative distance. And now that the time was upon me when I was actually allowed to be everything I had ever wanted to be to her…I didn't know how to do it.

My heartbeat was prevalent in my throat, a thudding presence that was forcing tears into my eyes. What was wrong with him?

Or perhaps the better question was: what was wrong with me?

Maybe he just didn't want the same thing I did. Maybe he didn't want to be with me like that. But from the way that he'd always powered through the migraines for our stolen moments…it sure didn't seem that way.

I'd never met a more complicated, but seemingly simple person in my entire life. Ever. I loved him more than anything. I loved everything about him. Even when he was being a dim witted, bad tempered dog I'd never loved someone more.

I wanted the opportunity to give myself completely to him, to swear my heart, my body, to him forever. You're only going to be sixteen. I didn't care what anyone said, sixteen seemed pretty old to me.

Most sixteen year olds hadn't been through what I had. Most sixteen year olds haven't lost their dads. Most sixteen year olds don't have a boyfriend who's a werewolf and has been around for their entire life. Most sixteen year olds haven't loved the boy they wish to give themselves completely to for fourteen years. Most sixteen year olds haven't been planning their marriage to the most important person in their life since they were two.

I wasn't like most sixteen year olds—that much was obvious. So I didn't understand why Quil was applying typical regulations to what felt right between us. My heartbeat hiccupped over the pain, knocking the breath out of me. The steering wheel was wet with sweat from my palms.

This kind of pain was new to me. And it felt oddly like rejection. And maybe that was exactly what I was feeling. My nerves curled and cringed away from the emotion as it branched through me, causing my stomach to twist in distress.

The road was identical in front and behind of me, flowing like one continuous river of asphalt beneath the vehicle. I didn't have my license yet, but I just felt the need to get out of that room, at least for a little while. And it was easier to get around when it was pouring rain outside in a car, plain and simple. His face flashed behind my mind's eye again, making me wince.

What if Quil just didn't feel the way I thought he did?

What if he just, flat out, didn't want to be with me?

My entire body flinched at the idea, a miserable shake rolling down my spine. The roads didn't look very familiar anymore and I began to wonder how far away from the reservation I'd gotten. Unfamiliar signs flashed past the windows, unrecognizable houses decorating the road side.

I squinted through the rain trying to figure out where I was. And then the blue and red lights began to swirl in the rearview mirror. I gulped and pulled to the edge of the road.

As my window rolled down the sheriff approached the car with a black umbrella. His badge, pinned statutorily to his shirt, read Chief Swan.

"Good Evening," he greeted in a gruff voice.

I wanted to refute that. Not so good for me.

I was in big trouble now.

Author's note- Leave your thoughts wonderful reviewers! They help a lot! :)