DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer, along with Little, Brown and Company, owns all the rights to the Twilight Saga.

Mrs. Newton didn't appear too happy with my news of quitting. She walked off mumbling about the pain of having to train someone else. Though, Mike took the news hard.

"Why are you quitting?" He asked.

"I just have other things I want to do with my time."

"Like what? Spending time with your too old of boyfriend?"

"No, like helping the kids on the reservation."

"Helping how?" He questioned, suspicious.

"With the afternoon programs. And I also started a tutoring program."

"I know you're a good person, Bella, but why on the rez? You could do that stuff here in Forks."

"Because Forks has programs already established and plenty of volunteers to help. La Push doesn't have any outside of school help for kids. Plus, after I marry Sam that will be my home too."

"You mean if you marry Sam."

"No, when I marry Sam." His constant questioning of every decision I made was really starting the grate on my nerves.

"You're eighteen, Bella. You can't possibly know who you're going to marry. Plus, you haven't even been with the guy that long."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Mike. But when you meet your soul mate, your age or the amount of time you've been dating hold no value."

"Whatever. I still don't understand why you're quitting."

I rolled my eyes and left the front to work on inventory for the last time.

At three on the dot, I walked out to the parking lot to find Sam leaning up against my truck.

"Hello, mé'oonna," he murmured, wrapping his arms around me. I leaned up to give him a kiss. I felt his tongue trace along my bottom lip. I open my mouth and he quickly made his way into it, caressing my tongue with his. As his hands ran up and down my sides, I moan into his mouth. Too soon he pulled away.

"Well, hello to you too, stranger," I said, smiling up at him.

"Do you need to go home before heading to the rez?"

"No," I said, shaking my head.

Sam opened the passenger door. "Your chariot awaits, my lady," he joked, sweeping his arm out.

"Well, many thanks, kind sir."

I hopped into the truck, Sam did a minute later. He cranked up the truck and started for La Push.

"Did you eat lunch?"

"No, I skipped it try to avoid down time with Mike."

"How about we stop at the diner then?" I quietly turned and looked at him. "What? The diner has good food."

"Will Leah be working?"

"I don't know. But are we really going to let her dictate where we go or where we eat for the rest of our lives?"

"No, I suppose not. I just like to avoid confrontation if possible."

"Well, the dining options in La Push are limited."

"I know. Do you think we could just get it to-go?"

"We could."

"Then we can take some back to Paul too."

"I don't why you continue to treat him as nicely as you do."

"I bitch at him on occasion," I said defensively

"Not nearly as much as you should."

"Well, it's not in me to be a bitch all the time."

Sam turned and smiled at me. "I know, baby. Another reason why I love you."

We walked into the diner hand in hand. I wearily looked around the place for the tall Native goddess. Not spotting her, I relaxed into Sam's side. I looked up to see him looking down at me, giving me a comforting smile while he squeezed my hand. Sam led us to the diner counter. I took the seat next him. The waitress behind the counter smiled at Sam, ignoring my presence. Shocker, I thought, recognizing her as one of the girls gossiping in the bathroom those weeks ago.

"Good to see you, Sam."

"You too, Sadie."

"What can I get today?"

"I know what I want, but I think Bella will need a menu. Bella?"

"Yes, please."

Sadie sneered at me. "Sure, just a sec."

She handed me the menu, and I glanced it over.

"I think you'd like buffalo burger," Sam suggested.

"Buffalo? Like a real buffalo?"

I heard the waitress snort and mutter under her breath, but loud enough to still hear, "No, an imaginary one, retard."

I saw Sam about to comment, but I reached out for his hand. He looked at me, and I shook my head. It would be a losing battle with someone so strongly on Team Leah. I wouldn't waste Sam or my breath on her.

"I'll try the buffalo burger with sweet potato fries, please."

"And I'll need two double BBQ burgers, the fried fish platter, a basket of chipotle chicken tenders, another buffalo burger, a large onion ring, a large regular fry, two baked potatoes and a…" Sam stopped and looked at me. "What type of pies do you want, baby?"

"I planned on fixing brownies later."

"You know you only enable him when you give into his wants like that."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to get into his good graces."

"He's more trouble than he's worth. Unless you plan on baking two or three pans worth, we'll need a pie or two."

"Anything but cherry."

Sam smirked. "Of course not."

"Kim mentioned once that Paul liked blueberry, and I haven't had that type in a few years."

He sighed, but didn't say anything my further facilitating of Paul. "Fine, add two blueberry pies too."

"Sammy?"

He scoffed at the name as he turned. "I've told you, Leah, not to call me that anymore."

"I can call you whatever I want. I've been calling you that for five plus years, and I'm not going to stop on her account."

Sam rubbed his forehead agitatedly. "Leah, please don't."

"Don't what?" She asked, batting her eyes.

"Don't start with the drama crap."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sam."

"Bella and I just want to wait for our food in peace."

"Can't two old friends catch up?"

"They can when both parties are happy with being just friends."

"I can't help how I feel, Sam."

"Well, maybe some distance will help you move on."

"I don't want to move on."

"Leah," I said, quietly.

"What?" She snapped.

"I know it can be hard, accepting that your first love won't be your first and only, but I'm sure there's someone perfect out there for you."

"What would you know about it? You took my Sam from me."

"No, I didn't take him. I met him long after the two of you broke up, and we started dating months after that. And I know how it feels because I had to let go of the guy I thought I would spend forever with too." I saw Sam wince at the word 'forever.' "But letting go was the best thing that could have happened. It allowed me to open my heart to Sam, and now I'm with my soul mate."

"You don't anything about me," she said heatedly. "Sam and I would have found our way back to one another if you weren't in the way."

"No, Leah. We wouldn't have," Sam cut in.

"You don't know that, Sam."

"I do. We broke up long before I ever laid eyes on Bella. We weren't right for one another. And we never would have been happy in the long run."

Leah looked back and forth between us before rushing to the back.

"No need to say I told you so," he muttered, laying his head on the counter.

"I would never say that," I said softly. He lifted his head and one eyebrow. "Okay, I would, but not in a case like this."

"Maybe we should avoid her if we can help it, even if not to avoid the trouble, then to avoid hurting her further."

"I think that would be wise. If I lost Edward before finding you, I would probably still hold onto the memory of him and me long after the break up too."

"Yeah. It was easier for me to move on, even without meeting you yet, I knew Leah and I weren't meant to be. And I knew you were out there somewhere, or at least I hoped."

"So let's not flaunt our happiness anymore."

"Agreed, but where on earth are we going to get good cooking on the rez now?"

"What I am, chopped liver?"

"Nah, baby. You're the best cook, but you deserve a break every once in a while."

"Good answer."

"And also the truth."

A throat cleared behind the counter and the waitress stood with a scowl on her face. "Your food is ready."

"Thanks. How much is the total?"

"$48.65."

"Here," he said, handing over some bills. "No change. Thanks, Sadie."

Not soon enough, we arrived back at Sam's house. We carried the food into the kitchen, passing Paul in the living room. He hobbled his way into the kitchen, shrugging off Sam's help.

While the boys filled their plates, I whipped up the brown mix, so they would cook during the meal.

"No nuts in those, right?" Paul questioned.

"No nuts, Paul."

"Good, the nuts ruin them. Brownies should be gooey and soft."

"I agree whole heartedly," I said, giving him a small smile. He looked taken back by my agreement.

"Well, yeah, anyone with sense would," he said, going back to his burger.

We ate in relative silence. I thought Sam's thoughts were probably still back in the diner with Leah. I knew part of him still pained from hurting Leah.

After we finished the meal, Sam announced it was time for him to take over patrol from Jared. As soon as the door closed behind Sam, I turned to Paul.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked him.

He spared me a short, uninterested glance. "I don't know what you're doing, but I'm watching TV."

"I guess I could do that."

Paul let out a long, perturbed sigh. "Whatever."

I sat in Sam's usual recliner while Paul laid out on the couch, propping up his leg. He flipped through the stations quickly, too fast for me to ever really see what was on each channel. After ten minutes of hasty channel surfing, he stopped on the National Geographic Channel. I watched for a moment to see what appeared to be a special on indigenous people of Papua New Guinea.

"Really, Paul?"

"What, Sunday afternoon television sucks. It's this, crappiest movies whoever it is that picks movies could find from the nineties or infomercials. I don't want to watch a movie with bad acting and worse plot, and I certainly don't care about learning the finer points of five hundred dollar knives. So I pick this, deal with it."

I pressed my lips together hard, trying to keep the laughter in. But a few small snorts of amusement fell through.

"What's the problem, leech lover?" Sadly the names had continued. He only called me Bella when he really needed something and knew he had to be nice to get it or when Sam stared him down.

"Nothing, Paul, I just love that you know such details about Sunday television programming."

"Right," he said, drawing out the word. "I've got my eye on you," he warned, giving me a stink eye.

I shrugged. "Sure, sure."

An hour later, the special ended and a show that started off with a slightly intriguing, kind of freaky clip of a child in the womb came on. It was the same feeling you have when you see an abnormally tall or short person; you know it's not right to stare, but you physically can't tear your eyes away. The screen changed to the intro shot, showing us the title of the new show: In the Womb: Identical Twins. Paul and I shared a look, before he flipped the television off.

"I personally don't care to know what goes on inside a womb."

"It was kind of freaky looking," I added.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "As a girl, aren't you supposed to be in awe of the wonder surrounding birth or some shit like that?"

"I'm sure when I'm pregnant myself, I'll view it as a miracle of sorts, but I don't particularly want to see all the development of an embryo at this point in my life."

"You'd think with over two hundred stations, something would be on that's worth watching."

"Mhm," I agreed.

Paul and I sat in silence for a minute before I came up with an idea.

"We could play a game," I suggested.

He raised an eyebrow. "I like games. What were you thinking exactly?"

"I don't know. Kim and I never got around to buying any board games for the place. Do you know of any games around here?"

"Board games, definitely not. Video games, there's a plethora."

"No, not video games. I suck at them, you rule at them. No."

"You're forgetting I only have one good arm."

"You'd still destroy me. Got any other ideas?"

"Sam keeps a deck of cards in the junk drawer in the kitchen."

"Sounds good, I'll go get them."

I walked into the kitchen and easily found the deck of playing cards. I grabbed the small writing pad and pencil in the same drawer. I didn't know what we would play, but I figured many games would require us to keep track of our scores.

Walking back into the living room, Paul remained in his previous position on the couch. Deciding the recliner would be too heavy to move by myself, I left the cards, pad and pencil on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen to grab a chair. I sat the chair on the other side of the coffee table from Paul. He had already started to shuffle the deck awkwardly, trying not to move his right arm too much.

"What do you know how to play, paleface?

"A few games, but I vote for Rummy."

"Stupid, pussy game. We'll play Texas Hold 'em."

"I suck at poker, Paul."

"It's because that pale skin gives your bluffs away every time with that blush."

"So let's play something else."

"Ah, but I like that I have the upper hand at poker."

"We play a game that we both have equal chances of playing."

"Fine, take away the cripple's fun."

"Pulling the handicap card won't get you far with me."

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "How about playing war?"

"Your freaky fast reflexes would beat me at slapping the pile every time."

"Again, I point out the one good arm," he said, literally point to his bum arm.

"One bad arm doesn't cause your one good arm to move any slower."

He looked annoyed. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Go Fish?"

"That's worse than Rummy," he grumbled.

"You get your pick of those two, Paul."

An hour later, I found myself dumbfounded at the table before me. I had a lonely one pair of matches while Paul had nearly a dozen in front of him. The current hand was our second round at playing Go Fish. The first, I lost by an embarrassing sixteen pairs.

"Do you have an eight?" I asked Paul.

"Nope. Go fishing." I pulled a two of clubs from the deck. "Do you have a queen?"

"Go fish," I said.

"Do you have an eight?" He asked me. I looked up at him blankly to see him staring back with amusement in his eyes and a smirk sitting on his lips.

I let out a defeated sigh and handed over the card. "I hate you."

"You're just a sorry loser, that's all."

"Do you have an ace?" I asked.

"Go fish," he said, playing with the cards in his hand. I drew a card and pulled an eight. Great, one hand too late. "Do you have a five?" he inquired.

"No. Go fish." I watched him pull the card and smile. He then laid down a pair of sevens next to the freshly placed eights. "Do you have a king?"

"Go fishing," he told me.

I pulled a diamond, which on closer inspection was a five. I grew excited that I would finally have another pair upon my next turn.

"Do you have an ace?" My previous smile dropped. Not two turns ago I had asked for that card and now he all of a sudden had it. In fact, the same thing happened with the eights and the sixes before that.

He smiled at me. "Come on, paleface. I know you have it, so just hand it over."

I gasped. "You– You're– I…"

"Spit it out there, paleface."

"You're so cheating, you cheating…cheater!"

"Wow, once again you amaze with your use of the English language. Sam really ought to teach you some better comebacks. And as for your appalling allegations, I stand by the fact that I am simply a magnificent player at the game of Go Fish."

"No, no, no. I'm starting to see the pattern. You wait a turn or two and then ask for the very card I already asked for."

"It's not my fault that the deck gives me the cards after you've already requested them. I'd be stupid not to ask for them since I already know you have them in your hand."

"I don't think that's what is happening here, Paul."

"And what, pray tell, do you think is happening here, leech lover?"

"I ask for a card, you lie about not having it and then you ask for it a short while later. That's cheating!"

He looked at me blandly. "Nice theory you have, because that's all you have: a theory. You have no proof, just a string of bad luck on your part."

"I don't think I want to play with you anymore."

Paul shrugged. "I win by default then. But really, paleface, you shouldn't be such a sorry loser."

"I don't mind losing when it's fair."

He smirked. "Doesn't look that way to me." I saw his eyes shift toward the kitchen.

"Paul–" I started.

"Fine, whatever," he cut me off. "Let's drop it."

I started to question his sudden change in attitude, but the sound of the back door opening cut me off. With a smile on his face, Sam entered the living room.

"Hey, baby," he addressed me.

"Hi, you're early," I said, standing to greet him. He took me in his arms, and I relished in the warmth.

"I saw no signs of activity, so I figured I'd come back in awhile and then do a couple of quick perimeter checks periodically. I'll be right next to you, so you'll still be protected."

"That sounds like a great idea." He bent down and left a chaste kiss on my lips, leaving me wanting more.

"I thought so too. I missed you," he said against my lips.

"All right, all right, enough with the lovey-dovey crap."

"Paul, it's always a delight to be in your presence. What did you and Bella do while I patrolled this afternoon."

"Oh you know, just the usual. She waited on me and foot, and then we fucked like rabbits in your bed."

My eyes widen like saucers at his answer while Sam's face turned red.

"Paul!" Sam roared.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Don't say shit like that or I'll rip your throat out and your balls off," Sam growled lowly.

Paul rolled his eyes. "I was kidding, obviously."

"No one's laughing."

"Everyone in this pack is a party pooper with a stick up their ass. I just try and lighten things up every once in awhile."

"Go to your room."

Paul's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me, Dad?"

"You heard me, Paul. Go to the guest room until I call you out. I want to spend time with my imprint, and obviously you're only going to be a distraction from that."

"You can't shun me like that," he whined.

"I sure as hell can; it's my house. Stop bitching and start hopping."

"Fine," he huffed, pulling himself to his feet. "I didn't want to be in the leech lover's presence anymore anyways."

Sam sighed. "Just go," he said, tiredly.

We watched as Paul limped his way to the back of the house toward the bedroom. Sam pulled me down onto the couch with him.

"He didn't bother you too much did he?"

"Well, I thought we were having a rather pleasant day until I figured out that he'd been cheating the whole time we played Go Fish."

"Does a pleasant day with Paul exist?" Sam snorted.

"I can hear you, jackass! And there's no proof I cheated," Paul yelled from the bedroom.

"We'll see what I hear next time you phase," Sam called back.

"Fuck," I heard Paul curse loudly.

Sam shook his head. "Don't ever play a game with Paul; he always finds a way to cheat."

"That's why we picked Go Fish. It was one of the only games I could see that he would have a physical advantage at playing. It never crossed my mind that he would flat out lie to my face about the cards he held," I grumbled.

"That's because you're good and honest, Bella. Not everyone in the world is like you. Never gamble, baby, people would eat you alive."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So any trouble besides the cheating?"

"Nah, he behaved."

"Good. Then what do you want to do while I'm in?"

I buried my face in his chest before answering so he couldn't see my face turn cherry tomato red. "Can we maybe try for where we left off last night?" I asked, meekly.

I felt him tense up below me and it left me confused. "Uh, yeah. Of course we can, but I wouldn't think you'd want to with cripple in the house."

"Well, I figure he'll see it anyway later in your head, so what's the difference. Plus, I wouldn't mind torturing him for a bit."

"His running commentary for one could be annoying. Though, he did just turn his iPod on full blast a minute ago, so his hearing us would be at a minimal."

"And I feel like I never see you– alone anyway. I miss being close to you."

"I miss spending time with you too, baby. So much. Once we get the redheaded leech, things will settle down."

"I love you, Sam."

"And I love you, mé'oonna."

We spent the rest of the evening making out like a pair of teenagers. The clothes did stay on, but the night left me feeling ready to move the physical boundary line back. We wouldn't be having sex any time soon, but I felt comfortable with our physical relationship starting to move in that direction.

But for now, all the focus would lie on keeping me alive and safe from Victoria.