Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga.

I can't believe how long ago I started this story! Seem's like yesterday... Sorry for the lag! Hope this can make up for it!


Chapter Three: Jail Bird's Mate

"Ha, ha! Oh God, Lee I can't believe you spent the whole night hitting on a homo! This is just too good to be true―oh man, look at this! I'm crying from laughter! There are literally tears emerging from my eyeballs down my face! Classic!"

Mortified, I scowled at Embry, then narrowed my death stare at Seth. "I told you to keep your stupid mouth shut!" I snapped at my sibling.

Seth was about to respond―probably with some lame excuse like how he can't stop the pack mind-reading bullshit―when Quil interrupted. "I still don't get how this whole thing happened," he mused, his bulky frame leaning against the kitchen counter as the rest of us crowded around the table in a swarm around eight pizza boxes I had delivered. Quil had stolen one and balanced it on a single hand and shoved the slices in with the other.

"You mean how Leah could easily be mistaken for a man?" Embry tried to keep a straight face.

Quil grinned. "Nah, I mean, don't women come with built-in gay-dars or something? Isn't that what your gender always boasts about? That you can, like, tell or something?"

"Ha. Yeah, of course we do," I growled at him, my fists itching for some contact with flesh. Preferably Quil's flesh. "Along with microchips that tell us to cook you food and do your dirty laundry, you stupid sexist―"

"Please don't make her give the 'men are stupid sexist pigs' speech," Seth begged.

"I've heard it twice more than normal today!" Embry added cheerfully.

"Watch your goddamn tone buddy," I cuffed him across the ear. "My lectures are not to be enjoyed." I glowered at him for good measure, disgusted at the mere mention of my prudently thought out semi-feminist views being even slightly entertaining.

"I don't enjoy them," Seth said quickly.

"Don't be a kiss-ass, Seth." I scolded.

"Yeah, Seth. Don't be a kiss-ass." Embry snickered smugly.

I glared at him and set my carefully-clenched fist on the table. "Embry Call, I swear, if you don't shut the fuck up this second, I'm gonna get my dad's ancient hot-glue gun from the cupboard―you know, the colossal-sized kind with lots of sharp bits sticking out everywhere, held together by duct tape―and shove it right up your stupid―"

"Ouch," Jacob laughed, and chose that moment to stroll into the room. "I don't think I wanna know how that threat ends."

"Meh, I can take a pretty good guess," Quil nodded mockingly.

My eyes narrowed. "Okay guys," I spoke slowly, to ensure those of them with underdeveloped minds could keep up. "We shall never speak of this again. The fact that Leah Clearwater was a fag hag for a night will by no means be repeated outside this house. I don't care how funny you think it is. I don't care how awesome of a joke you think it would be to tell over a few drinks. I don't care if someone beats you to the last fraying threads of your pathetic little lives. That. Night. Never. Happened. End of story."

Satisfied, I folded my arms into my lap to signify the end of the conversation.

Embry went to open his big mouth to speak. "No bloody way buddy," I hissed. "I still haven't ruled out the hot-glue gun notion. It will be safer for you and your anus if you just don't say anything for a good long while."

"But I―"

"Nuh-uh," I interrupted again. "No speaking."

"But Leah―"

"Cram a chew-toy in it, Embry."

"But―"

"Jeez, I said no!" he pouted and went quiet. I huffed irritably. "Okay, fine. What is it?"

He grinned triumphantly. "So… you thinking of jumping back on the horse anytime soon or what? Getting back in the wagon? Put all your eggs in one basket? Make an investment on someone? Fish for a better prize?"

I scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding me? I am never going on a date again!" I threw myself onto an empty pizza box since my body suddenly felt heavy with all the weariness. I groaned. "This is it. It's over. My life is over. I should've known I'd end up one of those crazy ladies with a zillion cats and an extensive stamp collection that's worth less than horse shit."

Jacob, who'd been unusually silent, walked over and sat by me.

He smiled.

I was too depressed to yell at him for thinking my pain was funny again. He's such a jerk.

He reached out and plucked dried mozzarella cheese out of my hair. I could practically hear his brain reeling. Opening and closing his mouth several times, he finally spoke: "If it makes you feel better, I'll let you break Embry's nose," he offered comfortingly. For whatever reason, I knew those words were not what he had intended to say, and it sort of left a hollow feeling in my chest. Despite it, I smiled at him because it was such a Jacob-ish thing to say and it did make me feel a little better as we both ignored Embry's loud objection.

"Thanks Jake," I said softly. "That means a lot."

Yeah. I'm the kind of girl to get choked up over breaking someone's bones. Nice.

The next week, I'd managed to have been on three very successful dates.

Well, by successful I meant 'better in comparison to the rest' and by successful dates I meant 'better in comparison to the rest with the same guy that I had somehow not managed to scare away thus far, or render unconscious, or be rendered unconscious, or utterly screw up in some way'. Amazingly, the glass seemed to be becoming half-full, and this time it wasn't with vodka, which is always a sober plus.

Directly following the gay-date fiasco, my self-confidence ran a new low―hitting forty-two feet below sea level and getting jammed between a couple jagged rocks somewhere between dying-alone and no-mans-land. Jacob, Seth and Embry had both tried to get me to slow down on the "seeing-of-unknown-men" by claiming that the packs put together should be enough testosterone to annoy and satisfy me for a while. It had been Quil's verbal kick in the ass that had made me accept Taylor as my third date, by telling me to go for it, negative outcomes be damned.

I'd yet to regret my decision, and it's safe to say the rest of the pack aren't too happy with Quil at the moment, for talking me back to the ledge that was my dating life.

Early afternoon I collapsed onto my couch, lifting my feet up to rest on Jacob's lap. I'd been condemned with the silent-treatment from my Alpha and the others ever since my first successful dinner with Taylor and it had ceased to be amusing. Especially since two of them were squatters practically living in my house. Jeez.

"C'mon Jake," I groaned, poking him with my foot. "You can't ignore me forever."

He turned his head and looked at me sceptically. "You still going out with Taylor?" he asked stiffly.

I rolled my eyes. "It's a bloody unisex name, Jake," I informed, flaring. "And so what if I am―?"

"Then I'm still ignoring you."

"But you haven't even met the guy yet! What could he possibly have done?"

"Why don't you go find Quil and ask him? It seems like he's the only one of us you're listening to nowadays anyway." He stared pointedly at the television, looking at me only by the corner of his eye, as if waiting for me to cave in by this snubbing gesture alone.

My lips twitched and I took the opportunity to do something very unlike something I'd ever do―I leapt on top of Jacob and pinned him between my body and the couch, forcing his gaze to be on me and me alone.

"Aw, no. Did I hurt your itty-bitty feelings, Mighty Alpha?" I said girlishly.

Jacob spluttered and―wait, did I detect a blush? "N-no. Don't be stupid." He faltered. It was very unlike Jake to lose his cool in an unanticipated predicament. Despite him being flustered, he was doing that eye-smouldering thing that he's pretty damn good at and I noticed my hand had fallen naturally onto his chest. He lifted his own and placed it over mine keeping it there, so I could feel his heart beating on my fingertips.

The whole situation took me off-guard, and I was so surprised I didn't think to get off him immediately, and I swear we started gravitating closer to each other until another voice sliced the thick air around us.

"Ahem," Embry had walked in with a bowl of popcorn.

Clearing his throat, I took that as the jolt to get my ass back into gear and to not be straddling my Alpha on the couch. I could just imagine how bad the whole thing looked.

"Sorry. Am I interrupting something?" There was a coldness in Embry's tone that surprised me even more. He was never so blunt, always laughing and joking around, taking the piss out of me. Seems like everyone's acting more than a little strange today.

"Course not," I laughed the whole thing off as if it were nothing. "Sucked in, boys. You're both talking to me now. Looks like I win. Well... Ha."

This was kind of awkward.

Embry and Jake shared this look I didn't quite understand, and the next thing I knew I'd muttered some random words that made no sense―something that sounded like, I think I left Seth in the oven―and blotted the hell out of there before I got sucked in to the black hole of their gaze.

Yes. Very awkward. But why? I mean, a part from the general awkwardness of me mounting the Alpha of our pack, that happened to be Jake, the guy I've known since forever? And I wanted to get closer. What was it about Jacob Black that made me throw all logic out the window? Urgh, I'm so stupid sometimes.

And why did Embry walking in send a jolt of energy through me? Why did I care what that kid thought―what either of those kids thought? Besides the whole getting along with everyone cause we're supposed to be some kind of fur-tastic team? The better of the two packs?

And why, why, am I mulling over the whole thing so desperately?

Urgh.

I should've known it was too good to last.

Taylor took me to a small, smoky pub on the outskirts of Forks to hear his friend play in some kind of music band. It wasn't exactly my scene, but whatever. There was always a filled drink in my hand, so I was content. I was in that happy place, which is usually the only place a werewolf can get to without indulging in much hard liquor.

Anyway, it was a good night. The band didn't really suck too bad, and Taylor was interesting to talk to. He'd had his last beer a few hours ago so he'd be okay to drive us home. I met his mate in the band―he was the bass guitarist. He was an alright bloke besides the fact I could smell the alcohol on his breathe, my enhanced nose just about tried to spring away from my face every time the guy opened his mouth even remotely near me.

We'd said our goodbyes, my nose cheered, so Taylor and I headed back towards his Ute. We jumped in, I realised I'd forgotten my jacket―which was really just for show, since I wasn't cold at all―back in the pub. Taylor waited in the car once I'd insisted on running back to get it myself. I'm independent dammit.

On the road, we got stuck behind some dickhead driving―no, crawling up the road in the centre of both lanes. I was just about ready to get out of the car, abuse the asshole in front of us, and walk home cause it would be ten times faster than the speed we were going.

"This is fucking ridiculous," I muttered to Taylor. "Just tap him on the bumper to get him going. Go on."

Taylor pursed his lips. "This is a new Ute, Leah."

"Then honk your horn, flash your lights, do something!"

I'm not known for my patience. So sue me.

Taylor took out his phone.

"Dan?" he spoke into the receiver. It was the bass guitarist. "Yeah, man. Hey look, do you think you could pull over, and I'll just drive you home? No, no, I swear, we'll pick up your truck in the morning… nothing will happen to it, dude. It's like from the seventies."

What.

What?

His friend was the douche in front of us? Seriously?

I didn't have much time for a valid response. I saw flashing blue and red lights come speeding up beside Dan's car. And Dan sped up. The police sped up. Taylor swore and also sped up. I tried to calm myself, because there was no way we were actually chasing a cop car, right?

"What the hell are you doing?" I exclaimed.

Taylor's eyes didn't leave the road. "Following them."

Dan slammed on the breaks. The cops slammed on their breaks. Taylor's new Ute stopped inches from the police car and I jolted forward in my seat, swearing.

To keep this brief, we spent the night in the police station waiting room for this Dan to get out of jail for drunk-driving and leading a 'high-speed chase' when we seriously didn't go over thirty miles an hour. Trust my mum and Charlie to be on a damn holiday. I couldn't weasel my way out of this one without my mother's boyfriend sitting in the Chief chair.

Charlie's asshole of a Deputy had taken our things as 'evidence', denied us a phone call and refused to let me leave no matter how much I verbally assaulted him. I knew he still had a grudge against me from when I was a young teen and lit his front doormat on fire because he'd repossessed my homemade potato launching gun. Now I had no way to get home except to wait for Taylor, Dan and their cars to become un-confiscated, since I'd been denied the right to make my own way there.

I'd been handcuffed to my chair. Apparently so I wouldn't walk out. I guess the Deputy had heard a lot about me from Charlie. The annoying thing was, I could have easily broken the cuffs if I wanted to. Damn werewolf secrecy crap.

"So," Taylor finally spoke, both of us sitting stiffly beside one another in the cramped room. What with my hand being cuffed, it made the situation even more uncomfortable with my arm twisted at some weird angle. "I'm assuming an apology just won't cut it, eh?"

I stared forward, my face blank. "Nope." I popped the letter on my lips.

Taylor grimaced. "Thought so. Would it have helped if the Deputy didn't Taser you?"

"Ah, lemme think… Nope."

I continued to stare at the fake fern plant in the corner.

"Is there any way I can make this up to you? I mean, I know I let my mate drive drunk, but it was only cause I thought I stood a chance at making it home with you tonight and didn't want him throwing up and killing the mood, and I thought if we drove behind and kept him out of trouble then maybe―" I didn't want to hear any more of his pathetic ramblings.

"Taylor," I stated dully. "Please shut the hell up."

Hours passed. My wrist was beginning to chafe.

Then I heard footsteps. Hoping the Deputy had developed some wisp of a soul; I perked up and tried to look as innocent as humanely possible as that was for me. Maybe it would earn me some desperately needed brownie points.

A voice called out. "Leah?"

I was confused.

"Wha―Jacob? Is that really you?" I sounded way too eager to see him. I thought about what this probably seemed like to him, seeing his responsible Beta handcuffed to a chair at the cop station. I wondered if it was too melodramatic to start sobbing with relief. And there he was, standing in the doorway, grinning like a God. "Jake, oh man you have no clue how happy I am to see you!"

The Deputy followed in behind him, and reluctantly un-cuffed me. I gave him a smug look and absentmindedly rubbed my wrist. Now that Jacob was here to rescue me, there was no further need to even try and play nice.

"Well, I'm certainly going to be writing a very nasty letter to your superiors about this," I warned him.

I practically skipped out of the building, not even giving Taylor a second glance even though I could feel his stare burning holes through my back.

"Nice to see you so cheery," Jake commented, with a big smile plastered on his face.

I laughed. "Oh Jake, I could so kiss you right now!"

The second the words left my mouth, we both looked at each other awkwardly.

"Um, figure of speech," I mumbled, eyes glued to the sidewalk. "Anyway, what I mean is I'm totally grateful, and don't get me wrong, but how the hell did you know where to find me? And how the hell did you manage to bust me out?" I gave him a suspicious glance. "Did you bribe or promise sexual favours to that prick with a badge?"

Jacob shifted his feet and fiddled with his car keys. "Uh, Deputy Jones owed me a favour."

"Oh really?" I smirked. "And why is that? Rescue a kitty from a tree?"

Jake smiled coyly. "I helped him put out his doormat once. It was on fire."

I had nothing to say to that.

My Alpha took me home, where I sunk gratefully into my mattress. I'm sure the pack was crashing downstairs again, slowly making their move into my house one dirty pair of socks at a time, but I was in too good a mood to kick them out. I fell asleep lying down face first, dead to the world and on top of my bed, exhasted from the hours sitting bored out of my mind at the cop shop. When I woke up, a blanket I could have sworn wasn't there before, was covering me.


So, what do you think? Please let me know! Once again, sorry for the delay!

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Hazel-Buttafly