Title: Miss Leah

Author: Kimi

Word Count: 2, 458

Characters: Leah, Paul, Jacob, Sam, Emily, Bella, and mentioned Quil.

Pairings: Leah/Paul friendship, Sam/Emily, Jacob/Bella, mentioned Sam/Leah and unrequited Paul/Jacob.

Brief summary: Paul doesn't understand Leah, and she not him. Of course.

Warnings: Some bad language, non-descript nudity, and bitchiness.

a/n: Something for our resident pack bitches. Begins during New Moon and ends later on in Post-Eclipse (there's no Breaking Dawn).

I'd also like to thank Kaiwynn for beta-ing this.

--

The first time he calls her the name is during a patrol, their feet practically flying over the damp green of the plants and the 'tip tip' of every footfall on the soft soil drowned out by the light rainfall. He isn't that far behind her though she yips at him to catch up and thinks, Shouldn't be so slow kid, to which he slows down to a run, then a jog, and finally to a complete stop.

Who are you calling a kid?

Leah stops to look back at him, eyes narrowed. Light grey ears swivel back and forth listening to the birds sing far up in the trees, their small wings fluttering to the beat of their own tune. They are certainly more pleasing to her ears than Paul's thoughts are to her mind; all barbs and sarcasm that she gladly throws back at him.

You of course. Who else has your level of maturity?

Paul's eyes narrow at her, the bleak light bleeding through the branches, turning the normally dark grey a wicked silver. He looks ready to rip a chunk of her skin off the bones when his face suddenly smooths.

Before she can remark on this sudden change he has phased back to his human form, every inch of bare skin revealed to her eyes. A growl rumbles from her throat at this, suspicion niggling at the back of her mind even though her eyes linger a little too long on the flowing lines of his legs and the freckles sprinkling his nose and cheeks.

“Not so mature now, are you Miss Leah?” The smugness leaks just as much from his voice as it does from the smile on his face.

Leah doesn't know whether to punch him or bite him.

------

Sam knows from the get-go that Leah and Paul will not get along; in his mind it is something inevitable.

The pack has gathered at he and Emily's house for a discussion on what strategy they will take to fend off the leeches from attacking the tribe (or anyone else for that matter) when the two start arguing. By some lack of chairs they had been forced to sit on the love-seat in the far corner of the room, Leah's six foot frame wedged in with Paul's own six foot three inches.

At first he just ignores their bickering because they aren't being vocal about their blatant dislike for each other. Leah is muttering something under her breath, one slender hand gesturing to something only she knows, legs crossed at the ankles as she fidgets at the other's close proximity.

Paul isn't much better; he picks at a hole in his jeans with feigned boredom, attempting to ignore whatever Leah is saying and failing miserably at it (he's glaring so hard at his pants that Sam is surprised that he hasn't burned another hole through them).

That is until it rises in volume.

Paul whispers something to Leah with a noise that Sam can only describe as a hiss, leaning closer to her face until their noses are almost touching. He looks angry (when is he ever not angry about something? is the question Sam has asked since they were children) with his jaw locked, eyes hardened, and teeth bared.

Leah shoves Paul over muttering something to the effect of,”Out of my face, ugly,” Paul sneering,”Gladly, Miss Leah."

Finally Sam snaps.

“Will you two shut up?” Paul flips him off while Leah scowls, arms crossed over her chest.

Sam massages his temples wondering how he's going to get through this without a few grey hairs.

-------

Paul hands Jacob a wrench quietly, enjoying the small peace of not having anyone in his mind or vampires threatening to kill innocent people. Moments like these are rare: where he can just be Paul the person instead of Paul the half human freak show whom howls at the moon for kicks and fears the word 'imprinting' more than anything, fears having a happy, normal family ripped away from him.

He always wakes up screaming.

Light flows in through the crack in the wooden door bathing him in warmth (he chuckles at this because he will always be warm even without light, but it never hurts) while the sound of Jacob humming weaves into the turning of the wrench and the squeak of the board's wheels at Jacob's movements.

He brings his knees up to his chest because it's just the way he sits. Once he tried it at the table in Emily's kitchen during dinner (Sam invited him over, he thinks, so the older man could watch him and make sure he didn't go on a drinking binge) with a cigarette in one hand, the other holding a small, green ashtray on his knee.

For convenience, he tells himself, leaning against the red car with a sigh, eyes closing at the memory.

Emily had wrinkled her nose at the smoke, waving her hand to clear it from valuable breathing space, then shooed him out onto the porch with a pack of gum and a reprimand: ”You aren't the only one who breathes this air, hon.” So he ended up eating his meal on the porch with Sam's laughter behind him.

Bastard, he would laugh at that. Sam, along with Jared, has always laughed at him for some reason or another since they were kids, whether it was Jacob running over his sand castle on the beach or a four year old Seth Clearwater hitting him with a branch because he'd taken his bucket for a few seconds (alright, maybe it was an hour but who was counting?) and forgot to give it back right away. Still wasn't a good reason for the brat to bean him with it.

He is so absorbed with the memories that he doesn't hear Jacob roll out from underneath the car, smudges of oil on his face. Vague thoughts echo into his mind from the other's, making Paul smile at the gentle brushes from their owner's presence.

“You know,” Paul says out loud, feeling for Jacob's hand blindly and smiling wider when he finds it,”I still haven't forgiven you for smashing that sandcastle; it was my best work.” He knows more than feeling, hearing, seeing, or even touching Jacob's face that he's smirking at him, brown eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement at his dramatics.

Jacob snickers. “Not my fault it was in the way.”

“Do you really put that much energy into pissing people off?” asks Paul, finally opening his eyes to look over at Jacob with a wry grin and a punch to the arm he doesn't miss. Jacob is still lying on the board with an expression of almost fond amusement (at his expense too, how nice) fingers loosely twined with Paul's lighter ones, the other hand resting on his ribs.

“Maybe,” Jacob sounds proud of that too. Gee, his list of need-to-knows just keeps growing doesn't it? Not that he didn't know Jacob was annoying before but he really knows it now that he's been in his mind a few times.

“And you're so good at it too!” It's said with mock enthusiasm and sarcasm that he's sure oozes from his pores.

After all he's the pack's other bitch, isn't he?

The others seem to think so anyway, except for Brady and maybe Sam. (How many times has he walked into a conversation where he hears the comment,'...Almost as bad as Leah...' or 'He's so damn irritating, I wish I didn't have to hear his thoughts,' and think to himself I'mnotlisteningitdoesn'thurtmetheyaren'tworthit?)

Brady is a good kid; a better younger brother to Paul than he's an older brother to Brady.

It isn't that he doesn't try to be a good older brother: He doesn't smoke in the house when Brady is there watching tv in the living room, doesn't bring any alcohol into his room and get drunk until he can't feel anything anymore past the dizziness and later nausea that he flushes away along with his shame.

Paul wishes he never has to see Brady's disappointment as the younger boy wraps his arms around him, handing him some medicine for his self-induced sickness.

Most of all he doesn't want Leah Clearwater's pity.

So he calls her 'Miss Leah' to mock her just as much as she mocks him with her pain over Sam and his love for Emily eclipsing any love he had for her before everything went wrong. A bark of bitter laughter nearly escapes from his throat at the thought of Leah, at her insecurities over her supposed lack of femininity and the wall of bitchy that she puts up to keep everyone the hell away from her and whoever drifts her way enters at their own risk.

Not that he understands her or anything.

Of course.

------

Later he squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of thoughts about Bella Swan, her laugh like wind chimes blowing in the wind, the highlights in her hair red in the blinding sunlight (only two shades lighter than his own), her shy smile beaming up at Jacob who returns it gladly. Like he's meant to be her own personal sun, her world thriving and growing from his presence, every crack in her heart filled with light until no darkness remains.

He wishes to himself that Jacob would touch him with that warmth, like her.

The moon only reflects the light, never changing or warming. Its borrowed light shines on the earth in the black of night, only making it lovelier to the sun when comes morning.

Paul will always be the moon to Bella's earth. Jacob will never look away from her.

Of course he doesn't understand Leah.

Of course.

----

The day of Sam and Emily's wedding is the day Leah breaks two chairs, snaps at Seth for burning the toast, and fights not to tear the light blue bridesmaid dress in half along with ripping out the matching ribbons her mother braided into her hair.

All she wants to do is keep herself busy so she won't have to think of what she'll do in five hours and twenty minutes (damnit, she isn't counting. Really.) at the front of a small altar where Emily will walk down the makeshift aisle in the backyard of Ms. Free's home, the beautiful half of her face all Sam will see.

Some part of her thinks Emily's scars make up for placing her as Maid of Honor.

(Another smaller part buried by anger and pain says,'I still love her. My sister.')

--------

Paul visited Jacob the day Bella left, dark circles under his eyes and war etched into his face. There were losses that could have been prevented if they had just looked a little harder, a little longer.

Maybe they could have been saved.

Jacob didn't speak to him, just wept into his hands.

He never hated the girl for being who she was, throwing reason out the window for a love that would kill her in the end. Seeing her in Jacob's mind jumbled her further for him, because she was reckless and broken and damnit he didn't care about her until he heard about the bloodsucker killing her truck so she couldn't drive to La Push.

Questions floated through Paul's mind after that like,'What makes her stay with him?', 'Why does she put up with him?', too many to answer but so important and he can't figure out why it was but it was and he realized suddenly that he didn't want her to die. Too many had already, why should she for something like this?

Young and stupid she was in his eyes until he saw her with a backpack full of her belongings walking to her truck, everything in her face screaming,'I'm never coming back'.

He ran up to her from the woods in his wolf form, dragging his pants in his mouth. She startled upon first seeing him thinking she might be attacked again (he can't blame her honestly), but letting curiosity leak into the surprise when he nudged the front pants pocket on the right side, the one without a hole in it.

Maple brown eyes filled with tears and she flung her arms around his neck. The silent Thank you was there in her gentle squeeze and her sad smile as she patted his fur, asking out loud if there might be a chance she could ever come back again.

Paul hoped twenty dollars and thirty cents was enough to help her get away as he watched her drive away.

(A part of him loves her a little for making a stand in her own life)

It didn't rain for two days after that.

------

Leah hears her heart being ripped into tiny unrecognizable pieces first by Emily's small bump (if Emily asks her to be the child's godmother she'll scream out loud) that isn't that noticeable as everyone focuses on she and Sam saying their vows.

But she notices. It is supposed to be hers after all.

-------

Leah is standing by Paul when Emily tosses the bouquet to the bridesmaids, not really paying attention until it bounces off Paul and hits her. The two of them catch it at the same time, twin looks of horror painting their faces just as a flash from a camera captures it forever.

They put their differences aside to chase Quil down for it.

Neither of them catches him.

--------

Leah dances with Paul after the ceremony, twirling on her bare feet in the grass with the heeled shoes lying forgotten a little ways away. Long fingers have unraveled the ribbons woven into braids that held under bobby pins keeping the elegant bun up, letting her shoulder length black hair fall freely.

Silence is companionable instead of harsh as they move together in circles, a large hand safely placed on her hip while the other clasps hers.

“We never speak of the bouquet incident again, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

--------

A few months later, Quil sends copies of the dreaded picture to their houses.

Ruth looks over at her son with barely suppressed laughter at the sight of her son, staring at the bouquet with blatant dismay and the person next to him as if she were the girl from the movie Exorcist.

Paul refuses to lift his face from his knees that are pressed against his chest, arms wrapped loosely around his shins.

Quiet mirth turns to giggles as she phones Sue Clearwater.

“Did you get them too?”

Sue's laughter is the only reply from the other end, and Ruth laughs too.

Paul hits his forehead against his knees. Repeatedly.

The lesson they learn: Humiliation brings people together.

--

a/n: This took a while to write, and I had a fun time doing it. :'D If Leah is out of character I'm really sorry because this is my first time writing her, it's more like a character excercise than anything. Hee.