My one DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything relating to Stephenie Meyer's Twilight Series, or Romeo and Juliet, Jane Eyre, Star Trek, Gone with the Wind, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Princess Bride, Star Wars, The Wheel of Time, Full House, Bye Bye Birdie, The Music Man, Cyrano de Bergerac, anything Jane Austen ever touched, Doug, or The Phantom of the Opera,The Little Mermaid, or Catch-22, *gasp*or any Dead-Ale Wives material! I thiiink that's everything I referenced.

This is my alternative ending to New Moon… it is a comedy, but some angst is required for assembly, so if you read the first few chapters asking yourself "why so serious?" Well... give it time, please.

I take the story over at the bit right after Alice comes to find out about the cliff diving incident, and leaves when Jacob shows up before Harry's funeral... then Bella and Jake are in the kitchen and he's just about to kiss her, but the phone rings...I trust you remember the scene. The first few sentences are particularly not mine!



The shrill ring of the phone made us both jump, but it did not break his focus. He took his hand from under my chin, and reached over me to grab the receiver, but still held my face securely with the hand against my cheek. His dark eyes did not free mine; I was too muddled to react, even to take advantage of the distraction.

"Swan residence" Jacob said, his husky voice low and intense. Someone answered, and Jacob altered in an instant. He straightened up, and his hand dropped from my face. His eyes went flat, his face blank, and I would have bet the measly remainder of my college fund that it was Alice.

I shook my head quickly, managing to recover my composure from the almost-kiss, and held up my hand for the phone. Jacob ignored me.

"He's not here," Jake spat, and the words were menacing. This irritated me, how dare he be so rude to someone on my phone? I could hear the voice distantly on the other line, but I worried that if I didn't take over the conversation immediately, Jake would say something rude.

"Jake, who is it?" I asked brightly, hoping false cheer would diffuse the situation. He just glared at the faded countertop, his arms shaking while he listened to the voice, which cut off for a second when I interrupted.

Jacob paid no attention to me, the jerk, and he seemed to be listening to Alice. But then, after a brief silence, he muttered, "Who do you think it was?"

"Alice?" I guessed, but he wasn't listening anymore. The phone murmured.

"Well, duh! Who the hell else would it be?" The murmuring continued on the other end. What was his problem, anyway? It was myphone; what right did he have to be so rude to her, and to swear at me like that???

"Jacob Black, you give me the phone, RIGHT NOW!" I reached for it, both hands wrapping around the faded cream-colored handset, using all my strength to try and pry it out of his fingers. He barely seemed to notice, but suddenly his free hand was around both of my wrists, and he forced my elbows down and back to my stomach, and then firmly pushed me backwards, pinning me to the refrigerator. I was temporarily shocked into silence... This was getting ridiculous. I glared at him.

The voice on the other end spoke again; I wished I knew what was happening. Whatever it was, Jacob kept getting angrier.

"Yeah, and what's it to you, bloodsucker?" he practically grunted. A pause. "Well come on down if it bothers you so much. My pack will enjoy making kitty litter out of you leeches."

"Alice, he's being a jerk and wo---"

A big quivering hand covered my mouth, and now he was cradling the phone against his shoulder, his arms crossed awkwardly across both our chests. That was it! I was through just letting idiot men take control over me. This boy had no right to keep me off my own phone. He had no right to hold me hostage, either.

As I tensed to knee him as hard as possible, that beautiful voice of Edward whispered in my ear maddeningly, "Not wise. He's close to snapping. Stay still." My breath caught, and my head, steadily shaking beneath the quivering hand of an unstable teenaged werewolf, instantly recognized the sensible advice. I behaved. Alice would just have to come and see me as soon as the coast was clear of my idiot friend.

"No, Doctor, actually she's not," Jacob said abruptly, his voice trembling with the same fury that was shaking my entire skull. Carlisle? I was incredibly confused. "I want you to send a message to Ed--- HIM. You tell him never to come back, do you hear me?" He was shouting now, it hurt my ears. "You tell that bloodsucker that if I ever so much as dream he's come back, I will tear him apart personally. And I'll take my time."

He paused to take a breath, and I struggled vainly against his hold. I had become frozen at the mention of Edward's name, the hole inside me threatening to swallow me...but poor Carlisle, having to hear that tantrum. I was furious with Jacob, and I was desperate to talk to Carlisle, to keep Jacob from telling anything about... the way I was... before. It was much worse than any feeble threat of Jake's---he wouldn't have a chance, and the Cullen family knew it.

I decided to stomp on one of his monstrous feet, hard; it seemed a safer option than my previous plan-no hallucination whispered any other suggestion, anyway, so I went ahead with it.

The big jerk didn't even wince, and I was digging down with my heel, stamping with all my weight. I started trampling with both feet, and he finally took notice of my feeble attempts. He swiftly took away my last form of attack by lifting one foot casually, and laying it on top of both of mine. He wasn't hurting me, it was simply meant to incapacitate.

More murmuring from Carlisle... and he was cut off again.

"Yes," Jacob snarled, and then he took a steadying breath, inhaling slowly.

"He broke her." A long pause, and another shuddering intake of breath. "She almost died because of him, because of what he did to her. And all this time…I nearly had everything straightened out. With this mess, we'll have to start all over."

He snorted then. "If your filthy bloodsucker of a son had really known her... if he'd had any heart at all, he would never have left her. Not like that. Not if he had loved her..."

That started the waterworks. Tears bubbled from my eyes and dribbled down my cheeks. Agony took the place of anger. It wasn't as if Jake was lying, I just couldn't bear to hear about it. To fully realize that the whole time, all those months, I had thought I was hiding my pain from everyone, when I hadn't fooled even one person. It was awful.

Jacob looked down when he felt the droplets on his palm, and he released me instantly. The hand holding my wrists moved to the phone, and he took a step back. I blinked slowly, trying to clear my vision, and then I looked up into his face. Our eyes met. That furious mask had completely disappeared without a trace. I could tell, even with everything still blurry, that he was crying, too.

"... the way I love her," he finished, his voice sounding choked and strained, desperate instead of angry.

The room went silent. Neither of us looked away, and I was afraid to blink. Until this moment, it had never occurred to me that he might actually love me. Love... not just infatuation. Not a crush. He's not a boy, I realized.

There was a tension between us that I had never noticed before. As if, even in this tiny kitchen, we were too far apart. Something was pulling me towards him, needing me to comfort him. I knew intrinsically that if I could just make him feel better, that I would be healed, as well.

"My poor Jacob," my lips mouthed, unable to make the words resonate, incapable of breaking the hush that filled the room. Instead, I took a hesitant step forward, reaching up towards his face with one hand, and tried to smooth away the tears I had caused. He was doing the same, at that same moment, a rough thumb gently wiping at my damp cheek. We would have chuckled at the synchronization any other time, but neither of us even smiled. This was not funny. This was a shared ache that only we two could ever understand.

He sniffed quickly, trying to clear his voice, and backed into the kitchen table, as far from me as the phone cord would take him. He stared resolutely at the floor now, trying to regain composure.

"I wish I had a picture of what she looked like then, when she first came out of the woods... so you had an idea of the wasted shell she became. She forgot how to smile... stopped listening to music, or reading. Charlie didn't know what to do. She wouldn't let herself be happy, not for months. I don't know why she didn't kill herself..." His voice became so quiet now I could barely hear it.

"Oh Jake," I sniffled quietly. What could I say? I didn't know why, either.

"You tell him..." Jake began again fervently. His eyes had been trying to burn a hole in the floor, but now they locked to mine, with an intensity I had never experienced.

"Tell him that I found a piece of the heart he ripped out, and it's mine now. I won't be giving it back."

The phone dropped from his fingers and hit the tile floor with a dull thud before snapping towards the wall, pulled by its elastic cord. Another crack sounded when it slammed into the cabinet, where it bobbed up and down a few times before finally laying at rest.