Author's Note

I'm back! :D

But, sadly, Paul did not receive his much wanted forty reviews. For the past weeks he has been inconsolable, depressed, even! Why, even Momma Quil's muffins weren't the same!

But, that's OK. We have come to learn that +30 is good enough for us. It was close, and the reviews warmed us. So, thanks to those who reviewed. I'm sorry that I am, alas, too damned lazy to write you all out like I did in the earlier chapters.

So, I would like to apologize for the fact that I haven't updated. School is...well, school. Plus, I was grounded. D:

I hope you guys like this chapter--someone needs to. Oh, and did I mention that there are only two chapters left?

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Twilight.

[Months Later]

I was crouched down beside the baby mat where the little baby Michael was laying down on his back. He looked up at me with his curious brown eyes, the ones that I saw every time I looked at Jared. I stuck my tongue out at him, grinning when he tried to mimic me unsuccessfully.

"Have you seen Emily?" Sam asked, poking his head in the living room.

"I think she's in the nursery with Ryan," I said, watching as his face lit up. It was a wonder how both Kim and Emily wound up with baby boys.

After Sam left, I resumed playing with Michael. I picked up one of the toys that were strewn about—a stuffed wolf, I saw—and wiggled it in front of his face. He gasped in childlike surprise and reached for it with his tiny arms. I placed it in his arms, gently, and couldn't help but stare in wonder when he hugged the wolf to his chest.

"Cassie!" Quil called from the kitchen. "Come get Michael's bottle!" I rolled my eyes, smiling. Since Emily was always busy with Ryan, Quil had taken it upon himself to take over the kitchen.

I stood up and headed toward the kitchen. I pushed open the door and walked over to Quil, grabbing the bottle from his hand.

"Has Michael been playing with his toys?" he inquired in a, dare I say it, motherly manner.

"Yup," I said, popping the 'p'. "He really likes the wolf, though."

"Of course he does!" Quil exclaimed. "I made it for him, a-la-Quil style."

"Why he would like a shabby thing like that, I have no idea," I teased, dodging Quil's hands when he reached to pinch me.

"Shut up and go feed the poor baby, before I go gangster on your bitch ass," Quil threatened, and I laughed.

"Ah! No!" I mock exclaimed, making a run for the door.

"Lookout, ya'll! White girl on the run!"

--

"Cassie? Are you okay?" Tommy asked, nudging me out of my daydream.

"Yeah," I said, settling my chin in my palm. I just knew I was forgetting something, but I couldn't quite figure out what.

"You look…different," Tommy said. I looked over to where he perched on the couch, squinting his blue-gray eyes at me. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "Yes…yes, I think that's it."

"What's 'it'?" I asked, a little snappishly. Tommy stared at me for a moment, before nodding his head.

"Yeah, that's definitely it."

"What?"

"The sexual frustration," he said simply. "It's gone." I jumped, nearly falling out of the chair. Blood rushed into my face, but I wasn't going to let him know that I wasn't a virgin now.

"What do you mean?" I cleared my throat, trying to make my voice go back down to its regular pitch.

"…You made brownies without me, didn't you?" Tommy asked, glaring angrily.

"No," I said, shaking my head vehemently. His eyebrows crumpled in confusion, and he cocked his head at me.

"Did you read a porno?"

"God, no!"

"Then explain to me, my dear Cassie, why you aren't sexually frustrated anymore?" Tommy grinned a Cheshire Cat grin at me, and I could almost hear his delighted purr.

"I-I was never sexually frustrated," I stammered, wincing as his smile grew more and more pronounced.

"You did it!" Tommy crowed joyously.

"No!" I denied, grimacing at how childish I sounded. Tommy guffawed loudly, falling off the couch and onto the floor. Blood rush into my face as he rolled around, tears streaming down his face.

"You did it! You did it!" Tommy sang between his laughs. "Cassie did it!"

"Shut up!" I hissed, clapping my hand over his mouth. He reached up and peeled my hand away from his mouth, a roguish glint in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Cassie. Leah and I do it all the time!"

"Ew!" I screeched, plugging my ears. "I don't want to hear about that!"

"Fine, fine," Tommy chuckled, pulling my hands from my ears. "I'll stop."

"Don't tell anyone!" I begged, giving him my best puppy dogface. He grinned at me before nodding and marking an 'X' over his chest.

"I, Thomas Christopher D'Toris, do so swear that I shall not reveal to a single soul—besides Leah—that you are no longer a virgin."

I glared at him for a moment before nodding my head. "You better not."

--

"I'm telling you Al, I'm forgetting something!" I ranted, pulling a t-shirt over my bikini. Al scoffed from the other side of the room, and I could practically hear her eyes rolling.

"It will come to you, Cass, as long as you just leave it alone."

"But it's so infuriating!" I complained, slipping my feet into a pair of flip-flops. I made sure that my necklace—a one-year anniversary gift from Paul—was fastened tightly around so that I wouldn't lose it. The carved wolf charm was smooth under my fingers and I instantly warmed up.

"We're meeting the guys at the beach, right?" Al asked, and I nodded my head. It had been a while since I had seen Paul because Sam had him and the guys working double shifts—with the exception of Jared. Obviously having a child was equally tiring and they didn't have the time between hormonal wives and crying children to patrol the woods for danger.

"I wonder what Embry will wear," Al said with a mischievous grin. I gagged and she threw her shoe at me.

"Oh, shut up," she said good-naturedly. "Like you don't want to know what Paul's wearing." I flushed a bright red and glared at her, making her laugh.

"Lets go," I grumbled, stomping out of the room and out of the house. My shoes smacked against the pavement as I stomped over to our car, Al not far behind me. I unlocked the car door and hopped in, already shoving the key into the ignition. I pressed the 'unlock' button, and Al sat in the passenger's side. As I pulled out of the driveway, she fiddled with the radio station before settling on a bouncy pop song.

"You took some Ibuprofen, right?" Al asked, and I snorted grumpily. My back and leg had been acting up again, and Al couldn't stand the mood it put me in.

Taking my reaction as a yes, she sighed in relief. I could only roll my eyes, shifting in my seat to lessen the pressure on my leg.

When we got to the beach, Al and I spotted Janine talking to Tara, and off in the distance Brian building sand castles. When we walked over to them, Brian smiled at me, revealing two rows of shiny white teeth.

"Al! Cass! Come help me make some sand castles!" He beckoned us over with a bony finger, and Tara rolled her eyes.

"He's utterly convinced that he's going to take over the beach," she explained. Behind her, Brian beamed largely, nodding his head fervently.

"Of course I will," Brian said. "But Tara and Janine here think that it's a fool's quest—"

"Which it is," Janine said, smiling. Brian stuck his tongue out at her, crossing his eyes.

"Don't mind him," Mitchell said, walking up to us. "He's still suffering from an immense hangover from last night."

"Yes!" Brian said, grinning. "That party was freaking awesome! They were playing Madonna all night—"

"He loves Madonna; practically worships her," Tara whispered to us.

"—the drinks were strong and the men were gay!" Brian crowed, doing a little happy dance in the sand. Mitchell gagged while the rest of us laughed. Mid-laugh, Brian stopped, looking behind us.

"Mmm," he purred. "Sex on legs." I turned to see who he was talking about, laughing even harder when I saw it was Quil who was approaching us. He lifted me in a huge bear hug, grabbing Al with his other arm.

"Well, if it isn't my two girls," he boomed. "Long time, no see!" I didn't miss how Brian's face sagged in disappointment, but immediately brightened.

"You guys know each other?" he asked, and Quil cocked his head to the side.

"But of course!" Quil said, grinning madly. "We've known each other for—Oo! Are you making sand castles?!" Brian nodded, and Quil's eyes lit up in childish delight.

"Me and Claire-Bear used to make these all the time! Can I help?" Quil asked, and Brian tapped his finger against his bottom lip, thinking.

"No," Brian said after a moment. "Gay men only." Quil's mouth dropped with a loud click. But he quickly erased it, replacing it with a dark glare.

"Well," Quil said, "I'll make my own sand castles—straight men only, of course." With a smirk, Quil dropped down to the sand, not two feet away from the suspicious looking Brian, and started to pile up sand. I sent a wary glance to Al, and she bit her lip nervously.

"I'm gonna go look for Paul," I said, still watching as Quil and Brian shot each other dirty looks. "Could you watch them and make sure that they don't do anything…drastic?"

Al nodded her head. "If you see Embry, send him over here, would you?"

--

"Where've you been?" Paul asked as I plopped down onto the sand beside him. His hair was messier than usual, and dark purple rings rimmed his eyes.

"Looking for you," I said simply, brushing his hair from his eyes. Paul leaned into my hand, smiling slightly as his eyes closed. "Tired?"

"Kind of," Paul said quietly.

"Perhaps you should go home and get some sleep," I advised. Paul opened his eyes for a moment to regard me with a serious expression.

"Not if you're not coming," he said stubbornly.

"Paul," I said sternly. "Go home."

"Cassie, no." Paul and I glared at each other for a moment before I gave up, falling backwards onto the sand.

"When are you going to sleep then?" I asked, exasperated. Paul mimicked my moves, lying down beside me.

"Now," he said, resting his head on top of mine. I rolled my eyes, but let him wrap his arms around me.

"We're gonna get sand kicked in our faces," I grumbled. Paul muttered something incoherent, and I smiled. Within the minute, Paul had fallen asleep and soft snores emanated from his chest.

--

"Pst! Cassie!"

I groaned, opening my eyes. Through my hazy vision, I could make out Claire standing by Paul and I, looking quite harried.

"Mm?" I asked sleepily.

"It's Quil," Claire said distraughtly. "He won't stop!"

"Stop what?" I mumbled, already closing my eyes to go back to sleep.

"Building those damned sand castles!" Claire shrieked, waving her arms about. Beside me, Paul groaned loudly, opening his eyes.

"This is about Quil?" he asked, eyes tightening to a nasty degree. Claire nodded her hand, biting her lip anxiously. Paul growled and stood from the sand, heading over to where Quil and Brian were in tense competition with purpose. I scrambled from the ground and jogged after him, grabbing his arm.

"You aren't going to hurt him too bad, are you?" I asked, not entirely keeping the worry from my voice. Paul didn't answer me, but I saw his face soften ever so slightly. I followed him, hand still wrapped in a death grip around his arm.

"Quil," Paul called, sounding relatively calm. Quil paused in constructing his sand palace—decked with shiny shells and an unfortunate starfish—and turned to look at Paul, his face turning ashen at the sight of his stony expression. Brian watched the exchange with a calculating expression, grinning mischievously when he saw me hanging on to Paul.

Paul crooked a finger at Quil, gesturing to the woods. Quil gulped loudly, but obliged, if a bit reluctantly. Before he followed, though, he sent Brian one last dirty look. Brian only smiled sweetly, plucking Quil's starfish from his sandy palace and placing it on his own castle. Quil spluttered indignantly as Paul dragged him away, his tremors becoming more and more noticeable as they gained distance.

"Is he okay?" Janine asked, gesturing towards Paul's receding figure. I smiled wryly.

"He has a bit of a temper," I clarified, and she nodded her head. I heard Al snort her laugh, and I sent a glare in her direction. Embry was sitting beside her, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Where's Seth?" Al asked Embry, who shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

"Last I heard he was chasing some chick's skirt back at the burger shack," he said, resting his chin atop Al's head. Janine wrinkled her nose delicately, and I had to laugh. It never ceased to make me laugh when she turned her nose up at the slightest mention of sexuality.

I nudged her with my shoulder. "Don't be such a prude," I teased. Janine stuck her tongue out at me, but I could see the deep humor in her eyes.

--

"You may have won the battle, Brian," Quil spat his name with as much venom as he could muster, "but you have not won the war."

"We'll see about that, Quil," Brian sneered.

The sun was setting, and everyone was piling into their respective cars. Al and Embry had already left, and Tara was busy trying to coax Brian from his glared down—or rather, glare up, seeing as how Quil towered over him.

Paul stood behind me, his hands planted firmly on my hips. His thumbs rubbed circles on my skin, and the blood rushed to my cheeks. Thank God it was too dark for anyone to see.

"Hey guys! Leaving already?" Seth asked, jogging up to us. He was shirtless and his hair was thoroughly disheveled. Paul snorted quietly, and I rolled my eyes.

"The sun's kind of setting, Seth," I pointed out. "Of course we're leaving. Where've you been, anyway?" Seth smiled roguishly at me, and I shuddered.

"Never mind, then," I said, making Seth boom with laughter.

"Cassie?" Janine called, and I looked over to her fast approaching. "Sometime, could I please borrow your Language Arts & Journalism textbook?"

"Sure. I could give it to you in Mr. Collin's Monday, if you'd like," I offered. Janine beamed joyfully at me, nodding her head.

"That would be splendid. I've got an essay I've got to turn in a couple of weeks from now, and I really need some help on it."

"I could help, if you want; I really don't have anything else to do besides the article Mrs. Caldor wants, and I'm almost done with that."

"Superb!" Janine exclaimed, eyes twinkling. She was the only person I have ever known who used her SAT words correctly in her sentences.

"Janine! Get your ass over here!" Tara yelled, gesturing to the van. Janine smiled dryly at me, and I giggled.

"Bye, Jan," I said, loosening Paul's grip on me so I could hug her. She leaned forward and wrapped her slender arms around my shoulders in a gentle embrace.

After Janine slid into the van, I turned to berate Seth but stopped when I saw his dazed expression. I looked at Paul's incredulous face, and my face froze in horror.

"He didn't," I gasped, but Paul just nodded wordlessly, confirming my fears. "You imprinted on my friend?!" I shrieked at Seth, but he didn't respond. His eyes only followed the disappearing van as it turned a curb, the glowing taillights dissipating in the darkness.

--

"I can't believe he did that. The nerve!" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. I paced around the bedroom, scowling all the while. Paul sat on the bed, sending me worried looks as I continued to curse Seth to the deepest pits of hell.

"Cass, Angel?" Paul asked quietly, patting the spot beside him. "Why don't you come lay down for a bit? It's getting late." My eyes darted to the alarm clock. 11:57 P.M., it radiated. My scowl became more pronounced and I picked up on my pacing.

"How could he do this to me?" I hissed. Paul sighed, giving up on his attempts to calm me.

"Seth can't help it," Paul reasoned, and I snorted.

"He will if I make him," I snarled. Paul didn't respond, and I turned my glare to him. Paul was staring at me warily, as if he was thinking of a 'safe' way to respond to my rants.

"Maybe," Paul started slowly, "this is a good thing. Maybe it's just what they both need."

"Or maybe it's not," I retorted. Paul sighed, pushing his hand through his hair.

"Cassidy," Paul said sternly, "you need to go easier on Seth; it's not something he can help, whether you bully him or not." I spluttered indignantly, not knowing what to say to this. Paul's face was carefully composed, a perfect poker face.

"Angel," he said, more softly, but sounding extremely cautious, "are you, you know, on your period?" Paul twitched nervously as my scowl intensified invariably.

"What?!" I yelled, making Paul wince even more. "What does that even have to do with anything with this conversation?! And, no, I am not on my p—"

And that's when I remembered what had eluded me for so long.

-face-palm-

And that, guys, is how I'm going to end this story: with perhaps the BIGGEST cliché of them all. I think you guys can guess what it is.

I'm pretty much beating myself up for my lack of creativity at the moment, but it was the only way I could think of. I've got other writing projects I've been fantasizing about, and I crave to write them out.

One of the stories WILL be a Seth x Janine story. Nice and lighthearted with some appearances of Paul and Cassie.

Oh, and, yes, Tommy does know about the pack now. Not much of him, and I'm afraid I didn't make it clear. I'll try and incorporate it in the next chapter.

So, perhaps you could spare a kindhearted/genuine review and console me in my grief?