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The Mythical Creature's Guide to Living in the Modern World (22/23)


"The galaxy will just keep going. Everything, even the Reapers, will come around again.
But you and I, we are important right now. And this is what will never happen again. Us."

Kaiden Alenko in Mass Effect


 

Chapter Twenty-Two, Psi

Luckily, however, my quick recap of, "Sam was looking for you. Instead, he decided to annoy me,"seemed to keep that issue from rising back up.

The glare Jake was levelling at Sam broke for a moment, and he turned to me, smiling. "Everyone annoys you, Leah."

"Yes, but he was worse then even those Seventh Day Adventists who came through town last year."

Surprised, "He was singing gospel?"

God, I actually wish he had been. That would have been less of a torture then this. "No," I told him, moving towards the couch and collapsing there. Examining my nails, I was disgusted by how much dirt was still under them. If I'd the money to invest in such a project, I might've gotten a manicure or something, just so some part of me looked like a girl for once, and to see if it meant my claws changed colour with the nail polish. Hmm... I could paint them electric green and when I phased I could tell everybody I'd poisoned claws... See if anyone tried to attack me then. "It was just the usual rant about how irresponsible we're all being."

"Ah. I suppose this would be a bad time to tell him about Billy's request then."

I rolled my eyes. If I had my way, that whole conversation with Billy would be forgotten. "I thought you were going to beat him up – or are you waiting for me to make popcorn or something?"

"Would you like popcorn?"

"No, I'm good."

"In that case," he spun on Sam, who was still watching us like some odd tennis match, growing slowly angrier and his eyes darker as we continued. Though Jake, still deliciously glistening from the rain (hey, I've I'm going to date him, I have every right to drool over him. It is my prerogative as his girlfriend and my right as a woman. And, of course, preparation for jumping his bones as soon as he kicks Sam's ass) looked like he wasn't going to burst out of his skin any time soon, Sam was all but growing furrier by the second. "You and me need to have a talk about boundaries and the way you don't try to kill your ex's."

"As I was telling Leah-" Sam began, trying to calm down, which only made Jake angrier.

"And she said you were being an idiot, so I don't want to hear it." Smart Alpha. See Sam, he listens to me. "So we need to come to some sort of compromise."

Lo and behold, they sat down at the kitchen table and did. It was kinda weird. And not really a compromise and more of a list of things Jake was willing to put up with from Sam. This pretty much amounted to being, Sam and his pack patrols La Push and our pack keep an eye on the vampires and their land. If the Cullens or one of their "friends" does anything untoward, we'll take care of it. If a vampire or something else (the bogeyman, bigfoot, militant girl scouts) wonders onto La Push, Sam can deal with it however he sees fit. There will be no crossover, except as far as the boys going to school (I was adamant on that fact, and it was the first non-insulting thing I said throughout the conversation), and after they graduate La Push will be Sam's entirely. After the leeches leave, maybe we can join back together, but for now, this is the plan.

Oh, yeah, and if Sam tries to kill me or Nessie or anyone else again, Jake will kill him. End of story. Even I was kinda scared of Jake when he told Sam that.

The day would've ended well if that'd been the end of it. But of course it wasn't.

"I'm not just going to sit by and watch you hurt her," my dear old ex, who seems to forget an awful lot that he's an "ex" and therefore not entitled to any opinion on my life.

So I tossed the first thing that I could reach – a spatula – at him. He caught it, of course, but it made me feel marginally better. "My life, dickweed. Don't you think that we already had this discussion? That I might learn from my mistakes – i.e., dating you? So go share your opinions with someone who actually cares. Like the National Inquirer."

But Sam was Sam, and he really did honestly think he was doing the right thing, which was kinda annoying. I mean, Sam might've been the oldest of us – he'd be twenty-three soon – but that doesn't mean he knows everything. Despite what he may think. "Old Quil is the only one left who knows anything about the last pack – and even then, all we really have are legends. There's so much about ourselves we don't know. What if-"

"Oh, not this game again," I interrupted, jumping down from the counter (where I'd been sitting, going through three apples, a pear, and half a box of Frosted Flakes). "I'm getting sick and tired of having to listen to this. Haven't you two decided everything that matters? As much as I'd like to watch the battle of the machismo, I really wouldn't. I'm a big girl. So, since this looks like the last time I'll be on La Push for a while, I'm going to grab some more clothes for me and Seth."

I hated going into Seth's room – it was like a shrine to every comic book and Star-whatever movie made – but I grabbed him some shirts and some more shorts and a jacket, because him going to school in the fall without one was likely to have someone call Children's Services on Mom, and he honestly wouldn't think to grab this stuff himself. It went into this ratty old army surplus bag Dad had used when he went fishing with Billy and Charlie. I paused at that on my way to my room, wondering what Dad would think of this latest development. Would he be like Billy, all but cheering Jake on in the bleachers, or would he laugh at the idea? What about Mom? I'd not told her, though she was bound to have picked it up on the rumour mill. I'd not be able to see Mom for a while unless she came off the Rez to see me or went to the Cullens, the latter at least I couldn't see her doing. In the background I heard Sam yell – very loudly, probably annoying the neighbours, who'd be forced to call the cops (i.e. Charlie, wherever he was, from his date, shudder, with Mom) and that would be bound to end well – something about how Jake had no right, la-de-dah, and Jake yell right back that, if I wanted to fuck him, that was my business. And then I sighed. As great as it was Jake was standing up for me, Sam just took all the pleasure out of it. And if either of them phased in the house, there'd be all that annoying fur to vacuum up, and nothing sheds quite like an angry Alpha except for maybe two of them.

I didn't want to be the practical one here. I hated practicality, or, at least, once had. It was my job in life to run a patrol and see to it that Jake and Seth, and now Quil and Embry, went to school and slept decent hours, even if it had meant 'til now that it had me running ragged on school nights and just giving up all together the afternoons and hoping the Cullens were keeping an eye on things. In my free time, I insulted things. I'd already had nine good ones in my head to call Embry besides the usual "bastard." Three of them evolved soap operas. Most emphatically, I was not supposed to be spending my free time making sure that my brother has clothes to wear to school that don't make him look like a ragamuffin (God, did I just think that word? I've spent entirely too much time around the leeches. Next thing you know, I'll be using words like ergo and anti-dis-establishment-arianism. They now much die. Listening to High School Musical) and arguing with my ex about how he's not the boss of me, and wondering what else I should pack to bring to the rock. I mean, clothes yes. And the leeches have food and running water and all that. But what do we really need? Socks? No... More sleeping bags. That's what we need. Because this plan means we'll be seeing a lot more of Embry and Quil, and poor Ms. Call will probably think her son's avoiding her or run away or something if he'll only be allowed on the Rez during school hours, and Claire probably won't be too happy about limiting her Quil time. But we took all the sleeping bags from our house and Jake's... and we'd have to swing by Quil's and Embry's anyway to grab stuff for them... and school supplies. Those might be important. I hope to God that they have that stuff, 'cause between us I don't know how Jake's finding the money to pay for gas for the Rabbit, let alone school lunches for him and Seth.

I sighed and stood up from my bed, where I'd been sitting, staring sadly at my dresser, wondering how I'd gotten into this mess and how, since I was the self-proclaimed "Queen of the Pack" I was going to get out of it. I didn't want to have to, but I knew where Mom kept a stash of a couple emergency twenties, which would probably be enough to last a week or so. As I headed up the hall to Mom's (thankfully empty) room, I heard the door slam downstairs. I hoped it was Sam leaving, 'cause I was still more then a little peeved at having been interrupted with Jake earlier and even more so for having to deal with Sam after. By the sound of the bounds up the stairs, I knew it to be Jake, and turned back down the hall before even entering Mom's room. "So, the bastard's gone?" He looked almost as angry as he'd been when he punched Sam, and his hair was still a little wet and kept on falling in front of his warm, brown eyes. It was hard to not look.

Slowly, Jake nodded, coming right up to me and lifting me off my feet, pressing me right up against him as he kissed me. For several moments we stayed like this, then began the long, tumultuous journey into my room. Only once he'd pinned me beneath him on the bed and moved to do wonderful things with his mouth on my throat (all our clothes discarded somewhere between the here and there) that made very noticeable actions elsewhere, was I able to get out a, "You should argue with him more often, Jake; I like the results."

Pulling himself away just enough to respond properly (as my hands traced the planes of his chest), "He seems to think you have no decision-making process of your own, that you're just doing what I want."

If that was the case, Jake, I'd have thrown you from here to Kathmandu, wherever the hell that is. But I just kissed him instead, 'cause I'm pretty sure he already knew that. Which was what he'd been arguing to Sam about. Which was why he was kissing me now, and if there was a little bit of spillover from our wolf selves with how good he smelled, or how good I smelled to him, it didn't matter, because I knew why I loved him and vice versa and we'd a proper bed and no one around to bug us.

Chapter Twenty-Three.