Not Without A Fight
Annaleise Marie

Round Five

AN: So I saw New Moon and I really don't have much to say about it except: Best of luck to anyone else who decides to tackle that particular shitstorm. I then got to work where my co-worker, the original twimom, was verbal-fapping to the damned thing.

Anway, this chapter contains the first lemon of the story. I enjoy writing lemons but then, people I actually know read my stories and I'm kind of nervous about how they'll see me after they read it... Hmm... Additionally, the girl involved has the same name as my best friend, which made it very, very awkward for me to write. XD

I own a buffalo chicken Subway sandwich which is currently rocking the hell out of my tastebuds, but I don't own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

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EPOV

The next day wasn't much different than the one before, except that I had actually managed to sleep, and I went to my classes. I was glad it was Friday. Even though I had only been at Forks High for three days, it seemed like it had been a long week.

Bella stopped by my table at lunch to ask if I was going to Mike Newton's party. I wasn't sure until Alice informed me that Rosalie was planning on going. And you know, I had fallen behind in my attempts to woo the fair maiden due to my day spent as a zombie. Which was pretty much her fault.

Regardless, I am Emmett Fucking McCarty, and once I set my sights on a girl, I don't stop until she's under me – or over me, it doesn't really matter which – screaming my name. Except, you know, that time in North Carolina, because that's smack in the fucking bible belt, and people there are much more into the whole waiting-for-marriage thing.

The point is, I was definitely going to the party.

No matter where you are, high school parties are the same – no supervision, lots of booze, and an incredible amount of hormones.

Now, I would never take advantage of a girl while she's drunk. And let's face it, with Rosalie, alcohol probably wouldn't work in my favour anyway. She seemed like a very violent type of drunk. Although, in the right situation, maybe that could work in my favour. I smirked to myself as I got out of my Jeep, a block away from Mike Newton's house. Jesus Christ, the whole damned town had obviously shown up.

Not that that was saying a lot.

"Emmett!" I turned around to see Alice following behind me, pulling Jasper behind her. "So you did come! I knew you would!"

I wasn't sure if Alice and I were friends or whatever, but it was always nice, how happy she seemed to see me. Maybe she was my friend. I wasn't sure. I didn't really bother making friends anymore. Everyone always seemed to just stay people I knew.

"Rosalie's already here," she said knowingly. "She came with Bella and Edward."

"He didn't ask that, Alice," Jasper said. She smiled.

"But he wanted to know," she insisted, reaching behind him and pulling something from his back pocket. "Why, thank you, sir," she said before skipping off to the house. Jasper sighed.

"Hey man, do me a favour," he said quietly. "Keep an eye out for Alice in there, in case I lose track of her. She just took my flask, and I don't want anything to happen to her." I nodded. "And keep an eye on Rosalie, when you can. Royce is around here somewhere," he added, nodding at a black Challenger parked on the other side of the street.

I nodded again and he hurried ahead of me, catching up with Alice at the door.

When I walked in I immediately zeroed in on Rosalie, because apparently I have developed a fucking radar that can pick her out of a crowd in point-two-five-three seconds. Although, I probably would have noticed her even if I had never met her before because Jesus fucking Christ, what was she wearing?

I didn't know where to look first. She was wearing a tight halter top, made out of some shiny pink material, that showed off her perfect rack. The top ended a good inch before the waistband of her jeans and fuck, if I liked that skirt of hers, it was nothing compared to these jeans. They sat low on her hips and hugged her thighs and ass, and somehow made her legs look even longer, as if they didn't already seem to take up nearly two-thirds of her total height. Add to that the fucking black sex-heels she had decided to wear and suddenly all I could do was imagine those legs wrapped around me, those heels digging into me as I fucked her into the mattress.

I sauntered over to her – yes, I sauntered, because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I can pull that shit off – and leaned against the wall beside her.

"Well Miss Hale, you are looking just lovely," I drawled. She rolled her eyes.

"And you are just as charming as ever, Mr. McCarty," she said, sounding bored.

"Really?"

"No," she said, laughing and bringing her red plastic party cup to her mouth.

"You hurt me, Rosalie," I sighed. She didn't look at me, opting instead to stare out into the room. Apparently the living room, being the room with the stereo, was the designated dancing area. If you could call it dancing. It looked more like sex with clothes, really. Which was just fine with me. "So why aren't you out there?"

"No one ever asks me," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"I guarantee you they're just overcome by that gentle face of yours," I said. And now she was glaring at me. Well, at least now she was looking at me. Progress.

"Are you going to ask me to dance?" she asked. I smiled and shrugged.

"Only if you know the one from Pulp Fiction," I said. "I want to be Uma. You'll have to be John."

She shook her head and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Well fuck. I didn't mean I didn't want to dance with her; I was only joking. Actually, the thought of dancing with her, her body pressed up against mine in those fucking jeans, moving to the pulsing beat of Mike's playlist, was incredibly appealing.

But those fucking jeans were gone. I sighed and turned around to see Jasper standing there, grinning at me. It was somehow more unnerving than when he stared at me like he was planning to eat my soul.

"Smooth," he said, looking towards the hall where Rosalie had disappeared. "You are one suave fucker, I've gotta say."

"Jazz, be nice to him," Alice said, appearing from behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I am being nice. In fact, I come bearing gifts," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and producing a flask. A fucking flask. First a cowboy hat, now a fucking flask. I know he had one earlier, but for some reason it didn't strike me as strange until now. Maybe because he had been so serious about it when Alice had swiped it earlier.

"Aww, you're going to share with Emmett?" Alice asked, tightening her hold on Jasper. "That's so nice." It was about then that I realized that Alice wasn't hugging Jasper, she was holding onto him to keep from falling over.

"Don't flatter him Alice," Jasper said. "I swiped it from Newton. You emptied mine already."

"Oh I did not," Alice said, giggling.

"Now come on," Jasper said to me. "You're going to need to drink if you're going to chase my sister around all night."

"Why?"

"Because drunk people get discouraged," he said, lifting Alice up piggyback-style and leading the way out to the back deck. Newton had a pool, and there were already people in various states of undress, soaking wet, running from the house to the pool. I got slapped across the chest by Bella Swan's hair as she ran by, Edward right behind her. They both looked somehow more out-of-place than the rest, being soaking wet but still fully clothed.

Jasper plopped Alice down on a patio chair and sat down beside her, gesturing for me to sit down as well. He passed me the flask as Alice pouted and wrestled herself out of her chair before situating herself in Jasper's lap, snuggling into his chest.

I unscrewed the lid of the flask and took a swig, swallowing hurriedly before coughing and handing it back to him.

"What is that shit?" I asked.

"That, sir, is the fine taste of Brugal," he said, wincing and raising the flask to his lips, swallowing and wincing. "Newton has truly refined tastes in rum. Alice drank all of the Cap'n."

"Lucky Alice," I said grimly, trying to will the horrible taste out of my throat.

"I spoil her, and she leaves me with crappy booze," he said mournfully.

"I can hear you, you know," she announced, her voice muffled by his chest. He ruffled her hair.

"I know, darlin', but you won't remember it in the morning so I'm getting all of my shots in now," he said before passing the flask back to me. This time I was ready for it and the shitty liquor went down easier.

"I hate you," Alice told him.

"I know, darlin'," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't hate you," she said.

"I know, darlin'."

"Love you."

"Okay, time to get you home, I think," he said, hooking his arms under her legs and behind her back before standing up. "Listen, seriously, keep an eye on Rosalie," he said to me. "If anything happens to her, I will personally have you stuffed and mounted on my wall, you got that?"

"Got it," I said, saluting him. I don't know, he just seemed like the kind of guy you would salute.

Once they had left, I stood up, holding very still for a moment to gauge my own drunkenness. Apparently Brugal was as impotent as it was disgusting, because I only felt pleasantly buzzed and for a big guy, I have a very low tolerance.

---

Okay. So apparently Sir Brugal is some sort of mystical delayed-release type of shitty rum, because I wasn't entirely sure how I got in my Jeep. Especially in this situation. But fuck. I wasn't complaining.

What I could remember from the time that I stood up to now could fit in four sentences: I tried to find Rosalie. I failed at finding Rosalie. Instead, I found Lauren. Apparently I like Lauren, because there I was, in the back of my Jeep, with her straddling me as our mouths battled each other.

I brought my hand up to my chest when she pressed something against me and groaned into her mouth when I realized that it was a condom package. Fuck, this was too easy. Especially since I couldn't really recall trying for anything. But the way things were going, I had figured that we'd make out, I might get a hand job, maybe possibly a blow job, if I was lucky.

Her hands moved down, leaving the condom in mine as they flew to my belt, undoing it quickly before popping the button on my jeans and unzipping them. The next second her hand was in my boxers and I hissed at the contact, thrusting into her hand as her grip tightened and her thumb rubbed over the tip of my dick and she bit my bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, it felt like it had been ten years since anyone other than me had touched my cock.

I ran my hands up her thighs, letting one come to rest on her hip while the other moved inward to sweep over the soaked cotton of her underwear. Fuck.

She pulled away, hooking her own fingers through the waistband of her underwear under her skirt and yanking them down before tugging on my pants and boxers. I raised my hips to allow her to pull them down, tearing open the condom package with my teeth and rolling it onto my aching cock as she straddled me, barely giving me time to get the damned thing on before she slammed down onto me, taking me all the way in in one swift motion.

"Fuck," I choked out, pulling down on her shoulders to keep her still as I adjusted to being inside her. Fuck she felt good. After a few moments I relaxed my grip on her shoulders and she started moving, raising herself up before slamming herself back down, taking me to the hilt each time.

Now, I'm about three steps under a man-whore. I won't just fuck anything that moves, but I'm not exactly the most discriminate of guys either. I'm usually pretty damned happy with what I get, and let me tell you, Lauren was fucking talented, rising and falling in my lap, gasping every time my hips snapped up to meet hers. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, leaving angry red welts in their wake. She was riding me hard and fast, just the way I fucking love it.

So the fact that as I was twisting my fingers into Lauren's hair, I was turning it from platinum to gold, and that as I buried my face in her neck, biting into the skin and making her gasp louder, I was imagining her floral perfume as a spicier scent... This was all very strange to me. My alcohol-fogged mind changed everything about Lauren, softening her sharp features into more angelic ones, turning her gray eyes blue, making her thighs rounder as my hand slid up one to grip her ass. Even that, under my hand, became fuller and firmer.

She threw her head back as I thrust harder into her, and when she looked at me again, it was Rosalie smirking at me. I groaned, letting my own head fall back against the headrest as I felt her start to tighten around me, her cries getting louder.

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RPOV

"Jasper, where the hell are you?" I yelled over the music.

"I took Alice home," he said, sounding like he had been asleep. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, except that you were my ride home, you asshat," I ground out. He sighed.

"Just get a ride home from Emmett," he said. I concentrated on somehow glaring at him through the phone. "Don't look at me like that." Holy shit, it worked. Either that, or he knows me too well. "He's going to be coming this way anyway, and I don't want Alice to wake up drunk and alone."

"Fine," I spat. I just had to be the sister of the one teenage boy in America who was constantly considering his girlfriend's feelings.

After looking for twenty minutes I ran into Bella and Edward, who said that they had seen Emmett leave the house awhile ago and they hadn't seen him since. I cursed and went out the front door, staring down the street, looking for the Jeep, hoping he hadn't left yet. I was sure Edward would drop me off later if he had, but I was ready to leave.

I spotted the Jeep almost a block away and started walking, crossing my arms to try to defend myself against the chilly late October night air. I passed Lauren Mallory and she looked like she had been partying a little too hard. I was sure there would be stories about it at school on Monday. The girl was a huge gossip, even when it came to stories about herself.

I arrived at the Jeep to find Emmett leaning against it, smoking, looking just as unaffected as ever. When he looked up, he seemed almost surprised to see me there.

"Hey," he said. "What're you doing here?"

"Jasper told me to ask you for a ride home," I said, sure to let him know that this was not my idea. He nodded.

"Oh yeah, he took Alice home," he said. "So are you wanting to go now?"

"Unless you're wanting to stick around for a while," I said. He smirked.

"Nope, I'm pretty much done here," he said, opening the door and signaling for me to get in.

The Jeep smelled like sex.

---

I usually spend my lunch period in the library rather than sitting around in the cafeteria either watching Jasper and Alice swoon all over each other or listening to everyone gossip, but Monday I had woken up late and hadn't eaten breakfast. By noon, I was starving.

The cafeteria food made me want to rethink whether or not starvation was really that bad. Meatloaf shouldn't be gray. Well, really, it shouldn't exist at all, but if it does, it shouldn't be gray. And potatoes shouldn't have the consistency of cream of wheat.

I took my tray to an empty table and stared at my tray, trying to decide if I was going to risk the food poisoning or not. That was when I was made aware of who I was sitting next to.

"Everything about him is big, if you know what I mean," Lauren Mallory was saying and my eyes narrowed. Bitch. I remembered passing her on my way to the Jeep, and now everything was clicking into place.

"I really don't need details," Angela Weber said, and I silently thanked her. I didn't really need them, either. I was having trouble keeping my fingernails as part of my hands instead of part of her throat as it was.

"I do," Jessica said, laughing. "So c'mon, Lauren, tell us about it."

"Sorry, you know I don't kiss and tell," Lauren said smugly. I nearly laughed at that. Like hell she doesn't. The whole fucking school could name off who she's kissed. Or sucked. Or fucked. They could probably give you stats on how many of the three each guy got, she talked so much.

"So wait," Jessica Stanley said as I picked up my bowl of mashed potatoes, inspecting them and wondering if they were even mildly edible. "Are you two like, together now?"

"Well, not like, officially. But you know," Lauren said, giggling. I wanted to rip her vocal cords out.

Instead I stood up and turned around, standing behind her and bringing my hand up under her chin to hold her still. I imagine that there was a moment in which her eyes widened in panic, and I almost wish I could have seen it before I smashed the bowl of runny potatoes to her face.

I held it there for a second before pulling it away and setting it down on the table and crouching down, waiting for her to turn around. She did, slowly, as she wiped the potatoes from her stupid overlined eyes.

"Oh my God, Lauren," I gasped as she stared at me, her mouth open in shock. "I am so sorry. Oh well. Maybe you should run along and clean up." She blinked, clearly lost for words. "But before you go, I think I should tell you... You might not have heard, but Emmett McCarty is off-limits. You overstepped a line there. You might want to avoid that in the future," I hissed.

I stood up as her hands came up to her face once more, wiping at the runny potatoes.

I was just walking out of the cafeteria when I heard her start to scream, the rest of the cafeteria shocked into silence except for one person's deep, booming laughter.

---

EPOV

Fuck, I didn't know what Lauren had done to piss Rosalie off so much, but that was the funniest fucking thing I had seen in a long time. I had looked up when the gasps had started, and then the silence fell as Rosalie crouched down beside Lauren. I couldn't hear what Rosalie was saying to her, but Lauren looked shocked stupid.

After a moment, Rosalie stood up and left the cafeteria, smirking. I couldn't react to anything at first. I had about four different emotions going through my head. I felt bad for Lauren, sure, but I was also amused beyond belief at what had happened, and curious as to why it had happened, and fucking turned on as hell because holy shit Rosalie was hot as fucking shit when she was angry, and that edge of amusement mixed with her own fury just put it over the fucking top.

The cafeteria door swung shut behind her as I finally allowed myself to start laughing and Lauren broke into a shrill scream.

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AN: Dear God, writing about Lauren was hard. I picked her because not a lot is known about her in canon, other than that she likes Tyler, but jeez. I just kept imagining my Lauren and I was like "GAH THIS MUST END!" So I'm sorry if it sucked. The future lemons will be better, once we get into the actual pairings. :D

I have a plan to bring Edward further into the story, but it's going to have to wait just a bit, so those Edward fans out there, hang in there! It'll happen!

In last chapter's AN, I told you guys that "Wet Sand" fit this story. I was wrong. iTunes went all wacky on my song titles and the one that I was listening to is actually "She Looks to Me" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. "Wet Sand" does kind of sort of, on some level, fit the story, but "She Looks to Me" is much closer. Haha. Sorry for any possible confusion. I actually have about five songs for the playlist now. A few more and I'll link it on my profile with the others. If anyone has any suggestions, please feel free to submit them! 8Dd

There's a link on my profile for the shirt I used as inspiration for Rosalie's. Because I suck at describing outfits. Sigh.

/bribes reviewers with eternal gratitude... and cookies. How the hell can you say no to cookies? Come on.

PS – Don't drive drunk, youngens. The characters obviously survived, but you might not and I would hate to lose any of you. Either get a designated driver, like I've done once before, or walk, like I've done a few times before. Or you could sleep in your car after you've lost your shoes and no longer have the option of walking, like I've done many times before.