AN: Sorry guys—updates will be spotty for the next two weeks, but I'll do my best. Thanks again for all of the wonderful things you say.

*****

Leah howled; she laughed till tears sprang in the corners of her coal black eyes, she panted and shook and was generally humiliating. Jake swept a wide hand across his face, kissed my cheek, and said he'd wait outside. I knew that meant he was going for a run—the pinnacle of hope for our children sounded like the laugh track to Friends. It wasn't a good feeling. Everyone else in the restaurant stared openly at the pair of us; when Leah finally calmed herself she turned and pointedly stared back at them before slowly turning to face me. The smirk on her face disappeared when she saw my own somber expression.

Perhaps 'somber' is the wrong word. I felt the icy lock of fear on my ribs, as if the Volturi were already reaching inside of my chest cavity with their dead, white fingers. Perhaps 'hopeless' is the word we're looking for.

"Listen, Bella," she said, and it did not escape me that to my recollection, she'd only said my real name once before, "Sam is not going to agree. He's not going to see the merit in a plan that could single-handedly wipe out the entire fighting wing of the pack. And not to sound rational, or anything, but we don't know what we're facing—we own this territory. There's a reason Jacob is the only one of us to leave the pack." Her fierce, slim features were lovely, lured away from their tendency towards ire and frustration. Leah did not like telling me no. Her eyes narrowed on something over my shoulder, and her compassion suddenly retreated underneath glacial disgust, a low swear word riding the sigh that escaped her lips.

"Just say yes anyway." Dull music floated over my head towards her, and I realized Edward was behind me. "Consider it an opportunity to tell Sam what you really think."

"He knows what I really think, even when I don't want him to, genius," Leah hissed. Surprising me, Edward slid in the booth beside her. In spite of her tough talk she slid in to the furthest corner of the booth; her nose bunched rigidly as she continued. "Kinda like someone else I know. Anyway, walking up to Sam, stinking like vamp-sauce and saying 'Bella Swan suggested we send all our best fighters to Italy to face an unknown number of militaristic, self-righteous—"

"—white—"

"white, colonizing—"

"--Christopher Columbus was Italian," Edward murmured at her, his golden eyes the exact same shade as her skin. He paused while she halted over his words. "And I meant telling Sam what you really think." Leah's mouth dropped open just a fraction before she could rally her next counter-attack.

"Are you flirting with her?" The incredulous tone of voice did not mask Jacob's amusement, and the frigid hold on my heart loosened as he sat beside me in the booth. Warm hands cupped mine and we both looked back at Edward. For the first time since I'd seen him, Edward blazed down on us with his crooked smile. I felt it was my responsibility to break the spell.

"He's dazzling her," I grinned, and Jacob's rumbling laugh once again attracted the attention of every patron in the restaurant. Leah spent a full minute glaring at them in turn before she locked eyes with Edward once again.

"Even if you didn't stink, vanilla, I would hardly be dazzled by nature's deadliest dental work. And—" she put her hand up, palm towards him like a stop sign, just as he appeared to be mounting his next attack—"I will not be swayed by your intimate knowledge of my personal issues regarding said personal issues. I'm not going to stand in front of the pack and say anything that might jeopardize my standing with my guys and—" hand still up—"I am not going to endanger them." She lowered it, finally, but continued to stare at Edward.

"I know you love them," he said, soft and clear, but then a sly grin shaded his beautiful face. "Almost as much as you hate Christopher Columbus." Leah looked like she wanted to smack him, but it was strange; she looked almost the same as she did when she wanted to smack Jared, or Paul. Not Quil or Embry, certainly not Seth…but something vital had changed.

Jacob and Leah did not hate Edward Cullen. And Jacob, at least, certainly did not want him or his family to die. I realized my mind was ticking through these things a little too busily when Jacob turned to watch my face, his nose twitching; my adrenaline must be up. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Edward can solve some of this," I said in a low voice. Everyone turned towards me wearing matching expressions of puzzlement and doubt. "Edward can read Carlisle's mind, ask him the right questions…Edward can make sure the enemy is completely known." I looked around at them, Leah and Jake confused and Edward's arctic beauty perked towards hope. "What does the pack need to know, Leah? What kinds of things are important before a battle?" She tweaked an eyebrow and glanced at the vampire next to her.

"Everything. Anything." She leaned towards me and her expression was grave. "Of all people, vamp-tramp, you should know that underestimating the enemy is usually the best way to die." I didn't feel proud of the role I'd played in the deaths of the vampires until I realized that Jacob would not be here with me, right now, if I had been slower, or too afraid—too human—to think on my feet. I nodded.

"What should I ask him?" Edward's eyebrows were lowered, concern painting itself there; Jacob cocked his head like a wolf and continued to decipher the scents in the room. He whipped his head around, eyes wide and staring, but too slow to stand before Seth Clearwater tried to slap the back of his head. Jake caught his hand, noticed the crowd staring yet again, and let it go. The giant man-child laughed.

"Yeah, what should he ask him?" Seth was tall and masculine, but his playful words were reminiscent of the child I'd known. He smirked down at Jake, who scowled. "Downwind, bro." He leaned closer. "Old trade secret. Learned it from a master." More howling laughter; I would have laughed too if it didn't remind me of Leah's earlier outbursts.

"He should start with, 'how can Leah tell the alpha she wants to send almost everyone she loves on a suicide mission?" Embry made the entire row of booths creak and moan as he settled in the one adjacent to us, waggling his eyebrows but clearly still serious.

"Nah—how about, 'do you remember what ancient Quileutes did with treasonous lady-wolves?" Quil also smirked, but the question hung in the air, stark and heavy.

"Maybe we should go to Sam before hand," Leah muttered. Edward did nothing but watch her, even as the conversation changed, wrapping around topics like pie (which was worse here than at Emily's), triple cheese burgers (also worse than at Em's), why Bella Swan was so pale, why Jake cut his fingernails, whether or not we could both die of embarrassment at the same time, and the waitresses. All of them: young, old, thin, thick, listening or across the room. It was light, hilarious, tender, amusing and wonderful. I felt seventeen again.

And I watched Edward watching Leah, and squeezed Jacob's hand. Something was happening there that was none of my business, but the pack knew about it, and Edward appeared to; for me, the question of what Leah was really thinking would have to go unanswered for now.