express.
—Emily Young POV.

They knew were there even before we did. On Cullen land. I’d never met one of them myself—a Cullen—but Sam didn’t seem in the least bit curious at the waiting figure. Would we ever be surprised again by anything, supernatural or non? Unlikely. Not even I was was caught off-guard by these alien things anymore, much to Sam's discontent. I was just too comfortable with the idea that things like werewolves and vampires existed in our otherwise ignorant world. It was as typical to me as the sun rising, once I got used to it. The body watching us was still, abornormally fixed, and was utterly and amazingly perfect from what I could tell. This did startle me. Sam and the others had warned me about their "allure" before, but this was different: seeing it first-hand was an out-of-body experience, like I'd been blind until now. I understood Bella Swan for just a moment.

Had she been expecting us—some eerie vampiric intuition? Sam's harsh glare told me I wasn't too far off. I really wanted to know the direct specifics, but I was far too distracted to ask Sam. I'd form a coherent theory later if I could ever even my breathing again, and maybe find the chance to test it. Her shimmering hair was dark, flipping outwards in spikes around her pale face and topaz eyes. She wore the most delightful, lady-like smile. For a moment—just another moment—I thought that I wouldn’t mind becoming her meal, so long as her face was the last thing I saw. I guess that’s why Sam and the others hated them so much. They were natural predators, appetizing to the human eye, just as appetizing as our blood was for them. I’d learned, vicariously, to hate the Cullens too, through Sam and his wolfish pack. Maybe not hate, but I’d always shook my head in distaste when they came up in conversation, or when Bella Swan was near, destroying my Jacob. They were vampires, and that was all I needed to know.

Sam drove through the clearing, his car lights beaming onto the girls’ porcelain cheeks as he tightened his grip on the wheel. He was obviously conflicted about whatever awaited us in the house. Whether it was Jacob’s future, the Cullens, or Bella Swan… I just wasn’t sure—usually I could read Sam as easily as he could me. But his mind was blank to me now, ambiguous, and this frightened me. But only slightly. I glanced at Sam casually, watching his nose twitch, with interest. The boys, my boys, had always raved and ranted about how fowl the bloodsuckers smelled, and how disgusting Jacob smelled after picking up their stench second-hand Bella Swan. I didn’t “smell” anything though, untouched by my superior lineage. That's what Leah called it. The smell was described as something like overbearing cologne, syrup and flowers, all combined into one sugary perfume. I was momentarily satsified that I didn’t have such a superb nose. Thankful, even.

I blinked quickly, met by a frightening surprise when my lids fluttered open again. Sam inhaled a sharp breath the same time I did, the muscles in his neck locking tightly. There were now four pairs of eyes watching us, three new. I vaguely recalled Sam telling me that the Cullens' were lightning-fast, comparable to even the La Push pack. I was having yet another out-of-body experience, and then, watching Sam, I grew uneasy. I didn't exactly feel like I was in any danger, and that was the danger when it came to vampires. I reasoned with myself though. Jacob, Seth and Leah, and Bella before them, spent a lot of time with the coven, emerging perfectly unharmed. Save the more than sickly-sweet scent that I never detected anyhow. Sam's caution was enough to justify my worry, though, something to be especially wary of.

The new vampires were every bit as enchanting as the first, all ridiculously beautiful in different ways. Like varying genres of art and music. The biggest male, grinning precociously, shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting with obvious impatience. The second lean, narrow-eyed and careful male vampire, watched Sam intently, as Sam did him. He hovered closely—protectively, possesively—over the small female who had been the first to greet us. The third addition smiled towards us as stunning as anything could be, her perfect pearls gleaming hospitibily. She was awfully maternal-looking, despite her young appearance; she probably wasn't as young as I was giving her credit for, though. My heart jumped, swift and rapid.

Thump, thump, thump.

In the moment that passed, forever under the golden eyes of four vampires, Sam drew his clank-ing car to a stop. He heaved another long, unsatisfied breath, his car stuttering and wheezing as it lost the power to run without the key in the ignition. Sam needed a new car, desperately. I hoped it would die of natural casues, of old age, soon.

He took one more breath, calculating. "C'mon, Em." He sounded like we'd just been sentenced to death, on our way to gallows.

"Mhmm." I confirmed quietly, and paused, hesitant to close the proximity between us and the coven. I was curious about what awaited us inside, but I had too many threatening preconceived notions glaring my way. Stay way, run now! they warned. Too late. Faster than I could have hoped to register, Sam was at my side, grasping my perspired hand. The vampires didn't move, as we paced up the way. Up close, I'd realized my previous picture of them was ridiculously off. They weren't just the most beautiful things—people, vampires—I'd ever seen, they were the most beautiful anyone had ever seen. Ever. The small one, ducking under the arm that hugged her shoulders, danced to us gracefully, her feet strong and quick. I was surprised again, and couldn't stop my mouth from remaining stupidly open.

Sam tightened his muscles again. The tiny girl—"Alice," the guarded one warned—bound to me, her cold and hard hands barely squeezing my shoulders. I, too, tensed. Her hair swept across my lips and nose as she pressed her cool lips lithley to both my cheeks, perfectly cordial. The cool fragrance that swept into my senses left me utterly, completely speechless.

With an airy grin, she trilled. "You smell good."

That woke me up. Sam instantly growled, louder than his usual warnings when it came to me. Although I'd never been threatened by a vampire, so I couldn't be sure. His firm hand grabbed my elbow, leading me behind him in one swift, powerful motion. I didn't really feel the danger here—although her words had alarmed me internally—and that was a problem for Sam. The larger vampire frowned, watching Sam like he'd just thrown a trivial tantrum. Alice frowned too, disappointed.

"It was only a joke." Emmett, Alice had called him lightly, chided flatly.

Oh, just a joke. We weren't dinner for the group of four; perhaps they'd already eaten Jacob and Seth. Maybe even Leah if she stuck around. Then we'd be dessert if they coven felt up for a little game. It was the the other male, the one who'd been next to Alice, who agreed with Sam. "Not funny Emmett, Alice." It was almost as though he detected Sam on the verge of phasing, the shivers creeping up my shoulders.

"No fun, Jasper." Emmett grouched, eventually turning to return into the house. "Not like Bella was." Oh. The human Bella. Or, the alive Bella, if they'd gotten bored and eaten her also. I was inclined to think so.

Sam's rage deflated, reminded of the task at hand at the mention of her name. Bella's immortality and Jacob's imprint. Esme, the mother figure of the group, never said anything but "welcome" to us, though she dazzled Sam and I right into the house, sweet and friendly. It was more than I'd ever expected of any vampire. Alice and Jasper trailed at the back of us, which threw Sam extremely off; he didn't care much for being flanked by his mortal enemies. I wasn't really worried, which worried Sam. Always worrying.

When we were welcomed in, my jaw dropped again. It was a lovely house, perfect for vampires, not that I had any knowledge of what would be perfect for vampires; only what I'd seen in hyped-up horror films. I just figured it must have been, since they lived here. Logicaly maybe wasn't safe in the company of vampires, though. It wasn't my taste of course—too white, too clean—but it was hard to deny the simple charm of the interior. The first room, which connected every room on the floor, was open. The wall of glass, however, made everything all that more prodigious. Sam, too, seemed pleasantly surprised. Though the exterior didn't portray it, I'd expected something overly generic: caskets, darkness and outrageous victorian decor. Vampire things, gothic and antique.

"Nice place," Sam mentioned offhandedly, momentarily unaware that we were in the nice place of a vampire coven. Of the Cullens.

"Thank you, Sam." Esme glowed with pleasure, the interior designer of the... family.

Sam didn't respond, alert and anxious again. Already he'd let his careful guard down. Then I spoke for the first time, eyeing Alice and Jasper on the opposing side of the room as they joined Emmett accross the flatscreen. "Is Jacob here?" Of course he was, but the silence was too much to bare anymore. Maybe, by now, they'd admit to eating him. Esme paused, thoughtfully, before speaking in her bell of a voice.

"With Renesmee." Obviously, she understood the gravity of the situation. Her glowing warmth flattened into something more heavy, serious. That was it. Renesmee, the name Sam had poorly articulated to me earlier. It wasn't as common as Jessica or Emily, and certainly wasn't as easily pronounced. He'd been resigned, and preferred to, calling her "little monster" anyhow. What a horrible thing to say, though I was also worried. Always worrying.

For the first time, I couldn't help but feel jealous of the little monster (I forgot her streaming name already). Jacob wasn't with me, with or Seth or Leah—not even with Bella!—but with her. He would always be now, wouldn't he? He didn't really have a say in it, not that he would mind. Could we see him anymore, or as much as we used to? I felt like a mother losing her newborn to marriage, the idea improbable and immoral on too many levels. It was too, too early; I'd felt like this when Quil imprinted, too, and when Jared, and even Paul, had. Sam glanced at me, sensing a change in temperament. Jasper, too, watched me, observing ever flinch I made. He was another theory I would have to hypothosize later, when I could think with a greater span. His gold eyes were... anxious? I thought for a moment that he might also be fretting over the child just as much as I was, but his wonderful stare eventually averted.

"Renesmee." Sam repeated her name unsurely. Maybe I was the only one struggling with her name now?

The room grew silent again, the football came on the television dominating.

"Follow me." A new voice cut through the silence, smoothe and clear.

I looked up, curious, as did Sam and Esme. And then it happened again—that out-of-body experience, clouding reality into some makeshift heaven. Standing at the top of the stair, thoughtful and vexed, was Carlisle Cullen—that's what Sam said, anyhow. "Doctor," Sam said, in spite of himself. He must mean Dr. Carlisle Cullen, the single reason La Push doesn't consult the nearest medical facility.

"Sam Uley." Carlisle confirmed politely, a little too polite for my idea of a vampire. My impressions weren't matching up with everything I'd been told.

With a dazzling grin, Esme Cullen ushered Sam and I ahead of her, towards Dr. Cullen. Sam took my hand, trudging heavily up the stairs. Compared to their whispering steps, Sam's shuffling must have sounded like a thunder storm against the mountains. It was the only noise, save the howl of the crowd from the television. My steps were soft against the path, my heels clicking quietly against each step. When we met him at the top, onto the next floor, Carlisle proceeded wordlessly ahead. A lump lodged in the mid of my throat, compromising my breath for many moments. After weeks and weeks of non-stop worry—always worry—the existence we'd questioned instantly was close to being unraveled. The suspense, though frightening, was welcomed. If finding this out, good or bad, gave us just a little less to fret over, then I'd take it in stride. I would try my hardest, accepting as I was. As I had reasoned with Sam earlier, it was impossible, improbable that my—her—Jacob could imprint on the thing of nightmares. I hoped that I was right, yet somehow I knew it couldn't possibly be any other way.

"Inside," Esme suggested, touching my elbow with her icy fingers. The coolness enveloped my arms, goose-bumping.

Towards the end of the hall, she indicated the last room as our destination. Two things possibly awaited us: there was the obivous, death by vampire (though, from the trip from downstairs until now, my inclination towards that one digressed); or Jacob.

"Emily." Sam pulled his arm around my shoulders securely, situating me between his shoulders, in towards his chest. Probably just in case option one proved faithful. What could his arms do against thirsting vampires, though? Delay them a few miliseconds? Bah. Very, very little, I wagered with myself. As he evened his pace, between Esme and Carlisle, a very dangerous place to be, a hard, squealing voice echoed into the hall. My body numbed.

"She bit me, Jacob!"

Seth Clearwater. Like me, Sam froze in an instant. A quick second later he was sprinting past a startled Dr. Carlisle, though, towing my sluggish body along with remarkable speed. Maybe it was only amazing to me, the human, the speed at which he could respond and reflex. I didn't really have time to think about it though—the single thing running through my mind was the thought of vampire venom poisoning Seth's veins. Lethal to werewolves—it was a slow, desperate death I'd heard. Oh, poor Seth. Poor Seth, poor Leah and Sue, poor me; my cousin, killed by a vampire! But, before I could lay out my heartfelt speech, the one that I'd recite at his funeral, any further, Seth was in my view, a perfectly delightful grin pulled over his teeth. He was laughing, quite amused. Oh? Sam had gotten us into the room faster than I cared—or dared—to remember. Jacob, and Leah too, were now equally in my view. And a new—impossibly—even more beautiful vampire than the rest also held my gaze, blonde and breathtaking as the sun. Well, she was more beautiful than the sun actually. I paused, a pang of envy boiling within me; my face would never look as perfect, as smoothe as hers. Not with this scar—I had to mentally stop the thought, because, even with the scar, Sam was everything I'd always wanted and had. The scar was an accident, Sam's pain and constant reminder.

Of course, I'd made the choice to stay with him anyhow. For that, staying with him for as long as he would have me, I was willing to bet my life. Plus, even without the scar, I had no hope of being as beautiful—it was a fleeting jealousy.

"Seth!" Even though Seth was smiling, Sam curled his lip over his cleanching teeth, a growl humming in this chest.

I bit my lip, unthreatening unlike Sam, with distate; a tiny mark, barely noticeable, scarred over Seth's arm. With ease, my young cousin explained casually: "My skin is tougher than her bite. For now." He added, theatrically cryptic. "Oh, hi Em, Sam."

Only when Seth mentioned our names, did Jacob peel his eyes from a bundle in his arms—I couldn't see it well enough—of ivory blankets. He held it cautiously, protectively, into his chest, like Sam had held me when we entered the Cullen house. In retrospect, mansion was far more appropriate. Distracted again, I shook myself. Sam, under normal circumstances—and these weren't—would have scoped me as to why, but I was all too aware of the rumbling now whirring in his throat. He sounded like his senior-citizen of a vehicle now, only more deadly and far more dangerous. I don't know why I hadn't noticed before, that he wasn't threatening the Cullens for Seth's somehow-unpoisoned-bite. His eyes narrowed at Jacob, cautioning him.

Oh. Jacob, grasping the bunch of sheets inwardly, had a similar stuttering in his mouth. In fact, he looked as though he might pounce onto Sam any moment, if it weren't for what he held. Oh, oh—it was her, wasn't it?

Esme's voice shot through the hostility, which concentrated into a thick fog with every passing second. "Jacob," She said familiarly, "Please—"

"Excuse me, Esme dear," Carlisle smiled at her sweetly, my heart nearly melting, as he began diplomatically, "Sam, Jacob is under the impression, as we are now all conditioned to be, that you mean our Nessie physcial harm." Our Nessie?

Sam's snarle fell, deflated, and he knit his brows together. He gave them his wise, but puzzled face. Jacob, too, lowered his guard some. "Nessie?" Sam mumbled.

"Jacob's imprint." Carlisle offered, and the new female vampire hissed lowly.

This cleared it all up, apparently. Sam's bubbling hostility all but disappeared, replaced instead by calculations. He ran his fingers absently along his chin, humming incoherent words and phrases, as though he was formulating the answer for a complex, mathematical equation. His brow deepened, indicating worry again. Always worrying. He sensed something, something I couldn't, something only detectable by werewolves and vampires. In the room, I was a genetic outcast, singled out by humanity. I frowned, but eyed the object of concern, cradled carefully within the arms of Jacob Black—her Jacob Black. My nose crinkled as Sam continued his mental battle, no doubt pushing through strategies and outcomes, all of which was founded on something I was yet to know. Sam just nodded sagely, somewhat understanding, comprehending. I frowned again, baffled.

Carefully, I inched foward away from Sam's arms. "And this is her?"

Jacob's eyes wavered from Sam to me, lessening into something familiar. A familiar look of love for me, his subsitute mother. His eyes sparked, smiling. I thought, as irrational and disgusting as Sam had said this entire mess was, whatever she was—to Jacob or to anyone else—it didn't matter. She did this to him, for him. He grinned at me like the little fool he was, easy and happy, so unlike what he had been for the past few months. So unlike what he deserved. No longer painfully sarcastic, worn and fatigued. It was like all the pain that he had endured, for the unreciprocated love of Bella Swan, and for his pack and family, washed away. It had never been there for all I could tell, for all Jacob could tell. His eyes dazzled down to his girl, adoration and love—brotherly as of the moment—swelling. And it felt tangible.

Just as I'd grown accustom to seeing Jacob happy again, the stalk of sheets fluidly moved, lifting her eyes over Jacob's elbow. Oh. She met my gaze with an alien alterness, all too aware that I was watching her Jacob. Her human, Bella eyes fixed onto mine, indicating she confirmed I had some relation to the one who held her. Her future. Auburn, bronze ringlets curled over her face, resting on her porcelain cheeks. A tiny blush swept her cheeks, and I knew it at once. I knew what Sam knew, what had caused him to lose the battle before victory was even a thought, a hope. Blood ran through her veins, humanity. Dr. Carlisle supplied the other half to the mystery, which I hadn't thought to think.

"Half human, half vampire." He'd said, the answer to Sam's long-faught conflict.

"Have you figured out the exact meaning of that yet?" Sam spat. I couldn't be sure, but he seemed a bit annoyed that Carlisle had told me before he had the chance to.

"Only a few things, really. She does drink blood,"—Sam cringed at this—"but can also stomach human food, though she doesn't care for it much. And her venom is sterile, unlethal. A discovery thanks to Jacob. Obviously, blood runs through her veins, even though her skin and apperance is very much a vampires'."

"I'll say." I said, very dumbly again, to which Sam frowned. "She's gorgeous, Jacob."

Sam glanced at her for the first time clearly, having been prompted by my fascination, my irrevocable fixation. He tried—very unsuccesfully—to not be enamored by her beautiful, charming face, almost as lovely as any vampire I'd met. Which, in the past twenty minutes or so, equated six. She was almost as incredibly perfect. But not quite, diluted by Bella. Human Bella. Her curious eyes met mine, and then moved onto Sam's, searching. This didn't alert Sam in the slightest, like it had me. Well, the difference was complete humanity, probably.

"Damn," He groaned, averting his stare to mine. "Let's go Em. There's not much even I can do here." Sam Uley, defeated. Utterly, inexplicably defeated.

Normally, I'd never second-guess or hesitate to follow Sam the moment he said or did anything. But "normally" had no groundings here, in this moment. Sam felt my hesistance, sighed and paused himself, evaluating the collection in the room. Seth, from habit, ran his hand along his where the girl bit him. Seth grinned over Leah's shoulder at the abnormally large infant. Leah, uninterested, glanced her way every few seconds, ensuring Jacob's safety. Or maybe she really was as interested as I suspected, also allured by the chocolate eyes of the little monster. The most perfect, exquisite baby on Earth. Ever. She'd caused so much trouble, and, if I told her now, I thought she just might understand me. The little monster must have known. Her eyes emitted something wise, condescending almost. Jacob—happily holding her, as ever—didn't meet Sam's stare again, too preoccupied. Sam had been the same way with me upon imprinting, oblivious to anyone other than myself, which I'd remind him of on a later date.

"She's big." Sam dismissed his intentions of leaving, as my interest was nowhere near satiated.

That sparked something of interest in Dr. Cullen again. "Yes, alarmingly so. Edward and I haven't had much of a chance, but we plan on conducting some research—crunch some numbers and calculations, maybe a physiological diagram of sorts, to make sense of her aging rate."

"Oh, which reminds me," Sam beckoned me closer to him, very possibly opening a can-of-worms, "And Bella?"

To this, Jacob, Seth, Leah and the other vampire—"Rosalie" Esme called—perked, eyeing Sam in synchronization. Can-of-worms successfully opened.

Upon mentioning Bella, the little monster—I forgot her name again—surveyed Sam more closely, intently. Her blushing cheeks paled some, and her forehead wrinkled. She, too, looked as though she were calculating, wondering of Bella. By now, nothing was impossible, nothing amazing or alien. It was all a little too comfortable again. Jacob's jaw tightened, and his grip on the girl loosened some, though it was hardly noticeable. Her little hand reached up to lay on the base of his neck. Jacob's form stiffed, but fell when he was again relaxed. Rosalie, the most amazing vampire, cooed to the girl softly.

"That's my talented, Nessie."

Talented? I'd ask later, when I could think of something more original than a nack for singing or something. I did my very best, which took too much effort, to distract myself from the blonde vampire, who seemed pleased by my obvious draw to her. Vain, too. I really was extremely curious—worried—about the fate of Bella Swan at this point, now that I knew Jake was safe, giddy and joyed holding his imprint. Who could blame him, besides Sam? Sam probably didn't though, only keeping up appearances to let the congregation know he didn't really agree or sanction Jacob and the little monster. But, really, who was Sam to be against fate, the very fate the united us two, him and I? He'd lost before he had been called in for battle. He couldn't take her for Jacob, and, even if he somehow was able to, I knew he wouldn't. Even if Sam didn't quite know it himself yet. Jacob glowed and grinned, almost disgustingly, perfectly happy. And that's how imprinting was; Jacob would no longer deny the beauty of it, I'd bet.

The topic was open, so I felt less afraid to press the issue to a room of vegetarian vampires."Where is Bella?" I asked, innocently as possible. Leah's eyes rolled, all too familiar with my sugary tone. I used it only when I was overly desperate for something.

Fret never left Esme's face, but Carlisle appeared more hopeful than she did. "She's a few rooms down actually, but the changing"—he didn't stutter or pause—"is still in process. She'll be awake by tomorrow with any luck, and her chances are more than good. Edward's venom into her heart was quite innovative." Carlisle seemed proud of his son, the soul-taker.

Sam didn't seem pleased, but there wasn't anything, too little, he could do. He wasn't overly concerned or tempted with her change like the elders were, because, although it'd take Hell and high water for him to admit it, he trusted the Cullens on some level. Sam didn't fear this breach in the treaty; Bella's decision was informed, and she had wanted this; the Cullen's didn't force anything on her, not one vampire bite was unwilling to her, thus Sam held her more responsible than anyone. The Cullens, essentially, were innocent of any crime La Push held against them. Sam rather liked the peace, and Bella Swan wasn't enough for him to declare war on that. Jacob had disagreed disparagingly, but his voice in the matter had actually been the one to legalize her change, as rightful alpha. Technically, no breach had occured. The treaty, though balancing on a knife-point, was secured. Convention, among the mess of halflings and imprints and other things, was—perhaps—forever lost.

My shivers returned, though. Bella Swan was inching on her last hours of humanity. Moreover, so close to us.

Carlisle, sensing my sudden unease, as charming as nature allowed him to be—which was far too much—told me. "She'll be beautiful, Emily. Alice has assured us."

It wasn't her beauty I was concerned with, though this little bit of insight on Alice would assist my theories on her later. Maybe I'd just ask? Distracted, I shook again. I glanced again at the baby in Jacob's arms, at least a few weeks old in appearance, and nodded. Things were working out well, and it wasn't supposed to be quite this easy, after the deathly trek it had taken to get to this point in time—for Jacob, Bella, the Cullens and the La Push pack. I tried to be happy, ecstatic that things had worked out at all, but, undernearth this relieving surface, and I didn't if Sam felt it either, but... something was resting on the horizon, something dangerous that threatened the happiness of us all. Something deep and powerful, as heavy as dawn. It was coming, and I didn't know how or when, only that it was.

I waited.

© Disclaimer: I own nothing from Twilightverse,
or any of the pretty quotes used. All characters, places, and
quotes remain the intellectual and creative property of whoever
they belong to (Stephenie Meyer), which, if you did not catch, is not me.

This is nothing like I'd expected it to be, but my stories always turn out like that, don't they? This was a request by Free To Imagine, in her review of Lightside. I was planning on writing this anyhow, but her request pushed it faster along. You don't have to read Lightside to understand this, but it would help. This is a sequel to that oneshot, basically after Sam and Emily talk about Jacob and Nessie, etc. I wanted to try Emily's POV out, because it is so rarely used. I still have such a problem writing in first person though. Please do forgive that! Err. I just thought, in the end, that Emily should be given some insight on the upcoming Volturi incidents, so I hope it wasn't too far-fetched. If you'd like, please take a look at Lightside, which is in Sam's POV. Thus, I reissue this challenge: If you feel up to it, I challenge anyone to write a companion fic to this, illustrating anyone of the La Push packs' reaction to meeting Renesmee, or their reactions to learning of Jacob's imprint on Nessie. Well, thanks for reading! Oh, and this is dedicated to Free To Imagine for requesting it, and accepting my challenge!

Review, plsh?

¤ composed by lunamaria.