A/N: Thanks for all your feedback from the last chapter… I gather you all like the new developments in the Jake/Nessie relationship! So, I know I told you this chapter would be up on Sunday… but I got called in to work, so I'm posting early! For all of you who are in the same boat as me (staying home Saturday night because you've got to get up early on Sunday), here, this present is for you!

I have a very important question: Would you, the readers, allow me to change the rating on this story to Mature in order to allow some slightly racier content? I don't intend for this story to ever get TOO explicit, but I think a little elaboration might be a good idea. So, I'd like to put it to a vote: tastefully-done "love scenes" and a higher rating, or leave the rating as-is and censor the content to fit? Please let me know via reviews… I need to make a decision before I post the next chapter.

I hope you all enjoy this one. I'm looking forward to your reactions… thanks for reading, and please review!

~Crit.

Chapter 19: In which Jacob is Vindicated

"Hi."

Renesmee jumped in her seat at the sound of Rideau's voice. She'd almost forgotten their Monday morning routine, but as he slid the enormous paper cup into her hand she thanked every god she could think of that he'd remembered. She took a long, leisurely sip of her Americano and then looked up at him with thankful eyes.

"Hi," she replied. "Oh, Jesus, thank god for coffee."

Rideau grinned at her as he settled into his chair. "Doesn't look like you got too much sleep last night," he remarked casually. "Homework?"

Renesmee tried to stop her cheeks from colouring. Actually, she hadn't gotten any sleep at all. "Something like that," she said in her best imitation of a casual tone. "Anyway, this coffee is really saving me."

"I'm happy to be your savior." Rideau opened his notebook. "So what's new? Tell me the most exciting thing about your Sunday."

Renesmee had a momentary flash of images, all of them of her and Jacob and the things they'd been up to the past few hours. None of these images were entirely appropriate for sharing. "I just hung out around the house," she said lamely, "with Jacob." She couldn't avoid the fondness that crept into her tone when she mentioned his name. Jacob. She suddenly wanted to be home very badly.

Rideau's expression had suddenly turned stony. "Great," he said in a way that suggested it was anything but. He turned to his text book and started thumbing through it without really looking. Renesmee sighed quietly. There was nothing to do but confront the tension between Rideau and Jacob. She'd gone on deluding herself into thinking they were getting along fine for far too long now. This couldn't go on without being discussed.

"Reed," she said gently, trying to purge any impression of nervousness from her voice, "I know you and Jake aren't the best of friends, but he's a really big part of my life, and—"

"Look, I get it," Rideau said, closing the cover of his book with a little too much force. "Can we just change the subject?"

Renesmee shook her head. "I don't think we can," she said uncomfortably. "Look, you and I are friends, and I really value that. But in order for our friendship to work, you have to at least try to get along with Jacob. I know you're not his biggest fan, but Jake is my…" she struggled to try and find the right word for their relationship. Boyfriend sounded kind of juvenile, Partner was so sterile, and Lover just sounded ridiculous. "I love him," she finally said, quietly and firmly. "I'm always going to, and I'm really going to have trouble holding a conversation with you if you go all cloudy day on me every time I mention his name."

Rideau was looking at her with a mixture of disappointment and sadness, two emotions that she'd never seen on his face before but that were nonetheless instantly recognizable. Then, without a single word to her, he swept his belongings off the desk and into his messenger bag and rose swiftly, heading for the back door.

"Reed!" She yelled after him, and then, louder, "Rideau, wait!" Those of their classmates who had already taken their seats were watching her with growing interest. Renesmee didn't care; she sat there, frozen, for a few minutes before she grabbing her bag and marching after him, carefully restraining herself from charging at full speed. Clara tried to grab her arm as she breezed past, but Renesmee looked down at her and shook her head, and her friend shrank back in her seat upon seeing the intensity of her expression.

She found him outside, on the path that lead in the direction of his building. He was about two hundred feet ahead of her, and she easily closed the distance at a light jog, barely exerting any energy whatsoever. He went rigid as she gripped his shoulder and spun him around with a fraction of her full strength. "Rideau Linley," she said in a stern voice, "What is wrong with you?"

Rideau's lips were set in a hard, unyielding line. The brilliant light from the early morning sun glanced off of the lenses of his glasses, making it look as though his eyes were blazing down at her. "What's wrong with me?" he said, almost mockingly. "What's wrong with you, Ness?" She hadn't let go of his shoulder, and now he grabbed both of hers. "What are you thinking? You're way, way too smart to follow this pattern."

Renesmee was keenly aware that she'd missed something. "What?" she said dumbly. "What pattern? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You, Jacob… the whole thing, it's the classic pattern of an abusive relationship."

"Excuse me?" Renesmee was certain she must have misheard him. "I'm going to need you to repeat what you just said, because it couldn't possibly have been what I thought I heard."

Rideau sighed heavily and shook his head. "Ness, you can stop pretending. I know exactly what's going on." The hands that had been gripping her shoulders moved to the sides of her arms, almost like a caress. Rideau's expression had softened, and he was looking deep into her eyes. "I've seen this happen before to people I… people I care about, and I can recognize the signs. He's a big guy with a short fuse, quick to go off on anyone who challenges him; you call him passionate. He's obsessed with you, always watching your every move; you call him protective. Every time he behaves angrily—or is it violently?—you brush it off by saying it's nothing you haven't been through before, and then you change the subject. You call me late at night on a Saturday when you two have been together, with little to no explanation, and ask me to come with you to the library, just so you can get out of your apartment and away from him." He squeezed her arms gently, in a way that Renesmee assumed was meant to be reassuring. "Ness, it's okay. You do have a way out of this. I can help you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Renesmee stood there, stunned, for a few moments. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Only when Rideau hesitantly brushed one thumb across the tender skin on the inside of her arm did the world come back into focus. "Let go of me," she said slowly in a low, careful voice.

"Ness, let me help you." He didn't loosen his grip.

"Rideau, I'm warning you, let me go now." She could feel a small bubble of anger rising in her throat. With that anger came the heightened senses she'd worked so hard to repress over the past few months. She could hear every leaf in every tree along the path brushing against its neighbours. The scent of Rideau's blood, warm and wet and tantalizing, traveled towards her in swells as his heart pumped, faster and harder than usual.

A sudden look of bravery joined the determination in Rideau's face. "No," he said firmly. "I can't. I've got you now, Ness, and if you'll let me help you I promise you that I will never let you go."

"Get off of me!" The bubble burst and Renesmee ripped herself easily out of his grasp. Rideau stepped back suddenly, looking alternately at his hands and at her face. He looked terrified. Renesmee was keenly aware that she had used more strength than a normal human girl of her size and stature would usually be capable of, and she didn't care. Let him be frightened. "You listen to me," she said, her voice low. "First, let me make one thing clear: Nobody, not Jacob or you or anybody else, lays a hand on me if I don't want them to." She took a step towards him, and he leaned ever so slightly away from her. Renesmee thought fleetingly that she must look supernatural at the moment, with her vampiric qualities enhanced by her rage, her skin gleaming, faintly iridescent in the bright sun. Good. She had a point to make. "Second, and I hope you listen to me when I say this: Jacob would never, never hurt me. Not ever. I am the most important person in his world… I'm the centre of it. And he's the centre of mine. We were designed by nature and fate to be together, and nothing will ever change that." Her anger intensified as she raged at him. "How dare you even suggest that Jacob has anything but the utmost love and respect for me? You can't understand our relationship, and so you take it and create some sick, horrible story to turn yourself into a hero and me into a helpless victim? Well, I'm not a victim, and I'm far from helpless. And the only thing you are is a self-important egotist insulting the man I love."

"Ness, I—"

"I'm not finished." Renesmee wasn't about to let him talk his way out the argument without having said her peace. "I have to ask you one question, and I want you to tell me the truth. I have to know: is this about more than you being worried that I'm being mistreated at home?"

Rideau was refusing to look her in the eye. "I don't really know what you mean," he said, sounding thoroughly unconvincing.

"Yes you do. We both do. I've done everything I could to ignore the signs, even when they were obvious, even when Jacob warned me, because I wanted a friend so badly. I wanted someone I could trust, who wanted to spend time with me not because of any sort of drama or ulterior motive but just because he liked being around me. Human beings make friends; I just wanted to be human." Renesmee stopped herself, aware that she'd said too much.

"Ness, you are human," Rideau looked as though he were about to reach out for her, and then thought better of it. "And I am your friend. It's just that, after I became your friend, I liked you so much. And it hurt to see you with him, especially since I could tell that the two of you were hiding something." He shook his head. "I know there's something tying you to him. I wish you'd at least try to get free."

Renesmee was flabbergasted. She'd basically told him that she wasn't a human being, and he'd completely missed it. Carlisle was right; given any sort of choice, people always believe what's easiest rather than what's really true. "Did you ever stop to think about the fact that what Jacob and I share might not be something I want to be free of?" She shook her head. "Here's the thing, Rideau: I like being tied to Jacob. Sure, maybe we fight sometimes. Maybe we piss each other off and say stupid things to each other. But we've known each other forever; how could we not? Our relationship is changing, and working it out hasn't been easy, not all the time. But the fact is, he knows and loves me better than any person on the planet, and he understands everything about me, things you could never understand."

Rideau suddenly met her eyes, and Renesmee almost faltered under the depth of emotion in his gaze. "I could try." His voice was very soft, almost inaudible to the human ear, but Renesmee heard every nuance and fluctuation of tone in those three words. Her resolve melted away as suddenly as her rage had come on, and she understood at last what was happening. Rideau wasn't trying to be selfish or cruel or arrogant. This wasn't about his petty dislike of Jacob, or his desire to play a heroic part. She had done everything that could possibly repel a person, from throwing a tantrum to making scary, albeit half-veiled, threats to nearly breaking his wrists. And yet here he was, heart racing faster than she'd ever heard a human heart beat, offering to try to understand her deepest secrets.

He loved her.

"You could try," she said in a much softer tone, trying to will some of the tension out of her body, "But, Reed… you'd only fail." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but it's just not possible."

The hurt he was feeling swam in his eyes. She could almost smell it. "Why not?" he said, his voice cracking in a way that was so completely mortal. Renesmee felt the spreading ache of sympathy. "Ness, there isn't anything about you that I wouldn't—"

"Please!" She yelled the word just to stop him from finishing his sentence. "Please, just stop it. I don't want this. I don't want to hear any of this from you." He reached out tentatively for her arm. His fingertips brushed her skin.

"If you'd just give me a chance…" Renesmee grabbed his fingers and squeezed them in her fist, twisting his hand away from her forearm. She was dimly aware of him wincing, but in her anger she couldn't bring herself to really care.

"I told you to stop," she said lethally. "And I meant it. Seems to me, since you're the one putting your hands on me when I tell you not to, that this relationship is the one that's no good for me." She released his hand—he clutched it with a pained expression— and then shot him a withering look of disapproval. "Guess I'm not smarter than that after all, am I?" Without waiting for his answer, she turned on her heel and began to walk away at a pace that was slow enough to look human but fast enough that it would get her out of reach as soon as possible. He called after her, but Renesmee didn't turn, letting his voice fade into the noise of the city as she got further away, breaking into a run and not stopping until she was home.

*~*~*~*

"I'll kill him."

"Jacob, come on…"

"No, I'll kill him." Jacob looked like he was half a second away from that skin-quaking, fur-sprouting, snarling-growling-ball-of-claws-and-teeth thing that he did every so often, and Renesmee didn't exactly relish having to calm him down once he reached that state. Best to do it now, while there was less chance of him breaking her stuff. She placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Just calm down, okay?" She looked up at him pleadingly. "I know this is upsetting for you, but right now I am upset too, and I need to talk to my best friend." She moved a bit closer to him, knowing that her proximity would likely help set his head right. Or at least away from violence, which was the main objective. "Please, Jake."

He took a long, deep breath and then released it slowly, staring straight ahead the whole time. When he finally looked down at her, the hard lines in his face had dissolved into a soft, sympathetic expression. He placed his hand overtop of hers and pressed it gently. "Sorry," he said sincerely. "The idea of him going after you just kinda makes my blood boil."

"You should have seen my reaction," Renesmee replied, a bit shamefully. "There's a slight but very real possibility that I may have broken his hand." Jacob chuckled. "Jake! Not funny!"

"Sorry," Jacob said again. This time, Renesmee didn't believe him. She covered her face with her hands and shook her head.

"Oh God," she moaned, "I'm such a disaster! I make exactly two friends on my grand quest to discover my humanity, and all that results from it is that one of them ends up maimed and heartbroken."

"This is why you can't have nice things," Jacob quipped, rubbing her back soothingly. She lifted her face for a moment to glare at him before sinking it into the fabric of his shirt.

"He's never going to forgive me," She said, her voice muffled. Jacob's hand stilled.

"Whoa, mind repeating that last part? Because it's the craziest thing, but I could have sworn I heard you say you wanted him to forgive you." Renesmee looked up at him again and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on, Jake. Rideau's my friend. And as pissed off as I am right now for the things he said about you, about us, I still want to be friends with him."

Jacob was shaking his head vigorously. "No way," he said firmly. With a good measure of trouble, Renesmee stepped out of his embrace and took a few steps away from him.

"Excuse me? That's not your decision." She crossed her arms, and Jacob stood square to face her, mimicking her stance.

"I'm not going to let you be friends with someone who's trying to take you away from me," he said, maintaining a surprising amount of cool. Renesmee let out a short bark of laughter.

"It's not a matter of you letting me do anything. And unless you're intent on proving Rideau right, I'd suggest you retract your previous statement." Jacob huffed sullenly.

"I don't like it, Nessie."

"That's too bad." Renesmee stared him down. Finally, Jacob's shoulders slumped, and he dropped his arms to his sides in defeat.

"You really want to be friends with him," he said, more a statement than a question. "If that's what you want… well then, I'm behind it." It looked like it took Jacob an awful amount of effort to say the words, and Renesmee felt instantly guilty. Was his compliance the work of his imprint, forcing him to be supportive because it was what she needed from him? Or was he doing this out of love for her, and out of respect for her feelings? Maybe it was a bit of both. Renesmee didn't want it to matter; she wanted him to really understand that this course of action was the right one.

"You're still upset that I want to stay friends with him," she said, leading him a few feet away to sit on the couch. "I want you to be okay with it, before I try to talk to him. I'm not going to be ready to do that for a while, anyway, but I need you to understand that it's going to happen eventually, and to be fine with that eventuality." Jacob sat down beside her.

"I just don't think you understand what's going on in his head," he said to her, frowning. "He's in love with you. You don't know what that's like, but I do, and I'm telling you right now that he's not going to give up that easily."

"It's a crush, Jacob, not an imprint."

Jacob met her eyes, one brow raised. "You know that half of your DNA is specially designed to attract and infatuate humans, right?"

Renesmee sighed. "Okay, so maybe it's a little more than a crush. But Rideau's a smart guy, and I know that we really are friends. I have to believe that, when all is said and done, that's what's going to remain: our friendship." Jacob was still sulking. "What?"

When he looked back up at her, his expression was pained. "Here's how it is: supposing he doesn't give up? He agrees to be your friend, but secretly he's still trying to win you over, dropping little hints here and there about how compatible the two of you are. You do all of your little academic study-buddy things, going to museums and lectures and poring over texts or dusting artifacts or whatever. And then one day it hits you: you and this guy have everything in common, and here you are, stuck with the Dog-Faced Boy while Clark Kent goes back to the fortress of Solitude every night by himself." Jacob shrugged. "That, of course, is just one of many ways I see it happening."

Renesmee regarded him incredulously. "You can't be serious," she said, and when Jacob nodded she squeezed her eyes shut as if her head hurt very badly. "Oh for the love of…" she scooted towards him on the couch and took one of his hands in both of hers, looking deep into his eyes. "Jacob Black," she said clearly and firmly, "That is never going to happen." She stroked the bronzed, callused skin of his palm. "Nor any other scenario which might bring about the same result." She grinned up at him. "I love my Dog-Faced Boy." This got a tiny smile out of Jacob, who curled his fingers around hers. "You know, you're really going to have to get over that. I intend to have friends for the rest of my life, and some of them might even be male. And since I'll probably live forever, there will likely be a lot of these friends. And none of them will ever, ever change how I feel about you. So you might as well just get used to it."

Renesmee could tell she'd won him over by the look on Jacob's face, a mixture of relief and devotion that brought about a tight clenching sensation in her chest. He leaned forward slightly and planted a small, quick kiss on her nose.

"Okay," he said, smiling a little. "I'm sorry… again."

"Don't apologize, Jacob… just try to trust me a little in the future, okay?"

"I do trust you," he said earnestly. "I just worry."

"You never have to worry about that." She went to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, and was taken off-balance when Jacob suddenly turned his head and captured her lips with his own. They stayed like that for a few moments, until Jacob pulled back and gave a very theatrical yawn.

"Geez," he said loudly, "I'm really tired." Renesmee narrowed his eyes at him.

"Uh-huh…" she said skeptically. Jacob flashed a mischievous look at her.

"You look pretty wiped too. We should probably go to bed early… I wouldn't want you to be too tired to focus in class tomorrow."

"Oh," She replied, putting on a concerned tone of voice. "Maybe you're right. That would be awful. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"Right." In one motion, Jacob had scooped her up from the couch, and in another he'd dashed up the stairs. "Your place or mine?"

"Jacob," she said, exasperated, "It's all our place. Just pick a room, already!"

She didn't need to tell him twice.

In the Next Chapter:

Jacob felt his cruel sense of victory fading. Renesmee was clearly unhappy at the loss of her friendship, and as much as he didn't care whether he ever saw the little twerp again or not, he knew that she did. It made him feel bad to know that she was worried over the situation, while he was so consistently happy all the time. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over it, Nessie," He said in his most soothing voice. "He kinda had it coming, hitting on you like that when you'd already told him no." Something in his memory twigged at that, and he debated for a moment over whether or not to tell her that particular story…