Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or the characters, or even an Emmett action figure (NECA get on that, already!).

A/N: So I kept wanting to tell you all what happened the night that Emmett got kicked out of his house by Rosalie because it was so gosh darn funny! This comes in around Chapter four. Enjoy!

[ Emmett ]

I was feeling pretty smug as I walked up the driveway to the front door, my keys jingling around my finger as I whistled. I opened the door and threw my keys in the bowl, kicking off my shoes. The house was dark and I walked into the living room, flicking on the light and the television.

"Ooh, basketball," I muttered to myself as I went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer, twisting the cap off with my t-shirt. I grabbed a bag of Frito's and plopped back down on the couch, my feet resting on the coffee table.

I'm not sure how long I sat on the couch because I passed out, my hand on top of my stomach, my head hanging off the back of the couch.

I jolted awake at the sound of the front door shutting loudly.

"Fucking…ugh, fuck my life."

"Rosie?" I called.

"Emmett, get in here and help me, will ya?"

I went to the front door and saw her carrying about ten bags from the grocery store. I grabbed a few of the heavier ones, lugging them into the kitchen.

"Are we having a party?"

"Yeah didn't you get the invitation? It's called dinner with my parents."

I looked around. "What? I didn't know about that."

She sighed. "Emmett Cullen…I've told you about this for two weeks now. Don't you ever listen to anything that I say?"

"I'm sorry, babe."

"Well maybe if you hadn't been so busy trying to help Edward out you'd remember about things back here at home."

I pulled her close, tucking her between my arms. "You know I love my brother, but it's nowhere near as much as I love you, my sweet little love-muffin."

She crinkled her nose and looked up at me. "Sweet little love-muffin? How many beers did you have?"

"Just one, I swear!"

She narrowed her eyes, studying me. "Well don't have anymore. I don't want you making a fool out of yourself when my parents get here."

I sighed, pulling away from her. "I wish you wouldn't treat me like a little kid."

She started unpacking some of the groceries, setting some aside for tonight's dinner. "Can you clean up the living room a bit? I don't want my parents thinking we live in a pigsty."

I hung my head as I skulked into the living room, folding up a blanket. I picked up my chips and some trash, heading back into the kitchen to throw it out. Rosalie was bent over looking in the cupboard for something. I stood there, watching her with an amused smile on my face.

She stood back up, hitting her head. "Motherfucker, I hate this kitchen," she groaned.

"Can I kiss something and make it all better?"

Rosalie turned around and glared at me, rubbing her head. "Yeah, go kiss that onion."

I frowned and walked over, peeling the outer layers and beginning to chop. My eyes were burning and I tried to blink the tears away.

"Something wrong, Emmey?"

I shook my head. "These onions are strong."

I swear I saw her smirk as she began rubbing down a slab of ribs, which did nothing but awaken South Pole Emmett. I bit my lower lip as I tried to concentrate on the onion. Rosalie must have caught on because she began alternating her strokes on the rib, quick, quick, then slow.

"Rosie," I whined.

"Is something wrong, Emmett?" she teased.

"You enjoying that meat over there, hun?"

She nodded. "Oh yes, very much so. The thickness is just right for a good rub down."

I groaned, bracing the edge of the counter. "Rosalie Hale Cullen, you are such a tease."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Who said anything about teasing?"

I looked over at her as she sauntered up to me. "Rose…"

She put her finger to my lips. "Let's just say if you behave yourself at dinner tonight, I'll rub something besides that slab of ribs over there."

I swallowed hard. She leaned up and kissed my cheek before going back to making dinner. I shook my head. That woman was a fireball.

In the distance I could hear a phone ringing. Rose rinsed her hands before running off in the other room.

I kept chopping the vegetables she had set out for me, and also ended up making a pretty decent salad.

I tried not to eavesdrop on Rosalie, but every so often would hear her groan or remark "that asshole." I assumed she was talking to Bella.

Maybe the flowers hadn't worked on her.


I began working extra hard on dinner, wanting to surprise Rosalie when she came back in the room. I knew if she was already worked up, the slightest thing would set her off.

I heard her groan again before slamming her phone down on the coffee table. She walked back in, looked at me, and then pulled the silverware out of the drawer. She threw it down on the kitchen island, barely missing my hands.

"Set the table. I'm going to take a shower. If my parents show up, don't say anything to them."

"Baby, what's wrong?" I tried.

She pointed a finger at me, narrowing her eyes. "Do not even think about calling me baby."

With that, she turned and walked out of the room.

"Well I think I'm royally fucked."


Dinner was long and excruciating. Mr. and Mrs. Hale were nice enough people, but with Rosalie in a bad mood, the dinner was already set for disaster. She barely spoke to me, only once in a while so that her parents wouldn't suspect there was a huge fight on the horizon. But I knew; I could see it in her eyes—something had happened during that phone call that was not going to be pleasant.

It was then that I decided I didn't want this family dinner to end.

I tried to keep conversation up with Mr. Hale, talking about sports and trying to plan an upcoming fishing trip, hoping to appease Rosalie with some father-bonding time. But it didn't work. And now I was going fishing.

Rosalie was just hugging her parents goodbye as I was loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. I was rounding the corner, already tugging my jeans off, about to head towards the bedroom when I heard her voice, icy and threatening.

"Don't you dare take one more step, Emmett Cullen."

I cringed, my back facing Rosalie. I counted to three slowly in my head, turning and trying to give her a warm smile.

"Cut the crap."

My shoulders shrugged—if there was one thing I learned about Rosalie, it's that it was best to just come clean.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

She had one hand on her hip, the other across her face. "Do you wanna tell me who Lucy is?"

"Oh," I said, looking down at my feet. "She's this lady at the flower shop."


"And she helps me pick out flowers for you whenever I get in a fight with you."

"Are you fucking her?"

I looked up. "What?! No! It's not like that"

"Well geez, Emmett, how am I supposed to know? All those times I thought you picked those flowers for me, it was some bitch---"

"Don't call Lucy a bitch."

She quirked an eyebrow. "So you ARE fucking her."

I shook my head, my fists tightening and loosening. "I swear to you I am not sleeping with Lucy. You can go down there and ask her yourself."

"Oh, right! Like I'm supposed to believe you and her," she sneered.

I was mad to the point of seeing red. "Rosalie that is enough."

She threw her hands up in the air. "No, I have had enough of this shit. Get out, Emmett. I don't care where you go or what you do but just get the fuck out."

I stared at her wild-eyed. "You're kicking me out of my own house?"

She pointed towards the door. "Maybe Lucy can help you out tonight."

"Baby, please," I pleaded, walking over to her.

She crossed her arms over her body. "Emmett, go."

I headed towards the door, swung it open dramatically, and walked out. I got halfway down the lawn when I heard her slam the door shut and lock it. Only then did I look down and realize I was in a white t-shirt and my boxers—no shoes, no pants.

I knocked on the door, but she wouldn't answer. "Rosie, I need my pants, my keys, my wallet. C'mon, baby, I said I was sorry!"

I heard her feet coming towards the front door. She opened the curtain next to it and looked at me. "Tough shit."

I sat on the driveway, thinking if I stayed out here long enough she might change her mind. Only minutes later I heard a distinctive sound.

"Oh no," I said, standing up and running towards the door. The sprinklers came to life, zapping me with cold sprays of water. I knocked again, begging for Rosalie to let me in.

After ten minutes I gave up hope. I had no shoes, no money, no cell-phone. I was resigned to sleeping on the porch until I remembered that Edward and Bella lived pretty close. I puffed out my chest and began walking down the street.

I hummed to myself, staring up at the stars. I wasn't exactly sure what time it was, but I knew it had to be late. By the time I had walked a few blocks, my feet were beginning to hurt. I sighed, pressing forward.

Another few blocks later, an elderly woman was outside dragging her trash to the road.

"Can I help you with that?" I asked.'

She looked at me. "What are you, some pervert creep? Get away from me!" She threw a milk carton at my head.

I took off again, trying to make it to the house. "Fucking how far do you live Edward?" I grumbled, my stomach beginning to rumble again.

What was most likely about two miles later, I saw Edward's silver Volvo shining like a beacon in the night.

"Hallelujah!" I shouted with my hands high in the air.

I took the last couple of steps up to his door and knocked.

"Please be Edward, please be Edward," I chanted, knowing by now Rosalie had called Bella and most likely told her not to let me in.

I heard feet, and the door opened to reveal Edward. I almost kissed him—I had never been this excited to see my brother in my entire life.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"Rose kicked me out."


I sighed. "Apparently, she found out about Lucy, and wasn't happy. I think she thinks that I'm having an affair. So she told me to find somewhere else to sleep. And here I am. I'm not going to Jaspers, he doesn't understand—Alice never kicks him out. Besides, we're in this together, brother."

He nodded, letting me in. "Come on in. You can stay in the guest room."

I stepped in, my feet rejoicing when they hit the carpet. "I don't know how she found out. Lucy would never tell Rosalie."

"Ohm I think I have a pretty good idea of who the tattler was," Edward said as he pointed towards his bedroom.

I looked at him hopefully. "Did she like the flowers at least?"

"Nope, she wouldn't take them."

I frowned, but my stomach jumped excitedly when I saw the box of gummy bears. I reached over and grabbed them, popping a few in my mouth and savoring the fruity taste. "Well, tomorrow we'll just have to try again."

Edward rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't want to try again, Emmett. I want Bella back, and I want my bed back. I want this to be over. I'll grovel, I'll cry, I'll pay her money," he whined.

I rolled my eyes. "Money? That's prostitution."

"Figuratively, Em. Come on, I'm not that stupid."

I nodded. "Tomorrow we are going to have to call in the big leagues."

He resisted. "No. No more of your flower ladies, or whatever you have on your speed dial. I'm done, Emmett."

I knew, however, that he was far from done—Edward was just getting desperate. But I had a few tricks up my sleeve still. "Just sleep on it, little bro. I've got a game plan. Just trust me on this one."

He threw the stuffed animal from the flower arrangement at me, hitting me on the shoulder. "Go to bed."

I waved at him, heading off towards the guest room. I washed my hands and face in the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and washing my aching feet as well. I climbed into the bed, sighing with content as my body relaxed into the plush mattress.

I stared up at the ceiling. "God, if you're listening, I promise from now on I will be a good man—no more bets, no more pranks (well, maybe a few pranks), and no more flower lady shenanigans if you please help me get back with my Rosie. I love her so much. Amen."

I closed my eyes and let sleep come, hoping tomorrow would be better.


A/N: So there you have it, folks. Emmett's point of view. I have a few other scenarios to share with you from other character's points of view, so keep on the lookout for them ;)