Gif #: 4

Title: Shower of Diamond HeartsWord count (not including author's notes/header): 3,059

Pairing: Jacob & Leah

Rating: MA

Summary: A brief fling with Jacob left Leah wanting more, but things went South when Bella returned from her honeymoon. Done being second-best, Leah fled to the city to finally find a sense of control and power in her life, but Jacob was never done with her, and now he wants her back.

Warnings (if necessary):

It's been eight years since I've seen him, and it's not any easier. After practically elbowing my assistant to the floor and barging his way into my office, Jacob stands in the corner with his hands crammed into his pockets. He's sulky and sexy at the same time, and I bite the inside of my cheek until it hurts, just for allowing myself to think that. In reality, he is unshaven. His five o'clock shadow has seen at least three five o'clocks. His hair, while still short, is long enough to be rumpled and stick up in places. His clothes are wrinkled. The knee of his right pant leg has a grass stain, and he probably stinks. That's not sexy.

It's really not.

Except that I can smell him from here, and he doesn't stink. He smells like earth and pine and man. Damn my sense straight to hell.

"I want you to come back, Leah," he says, at length.

His gaze flicks from me, to the floor, and back again. The scowl on his mouth doesn't give me the impression that he's even happy to see me, and yet he wants me to come back to La Push. He could try to be more convincing. Not that even that would work.

"I didn't ask what you wanted. I asked you to turn your ass around and walk back out the way you came."

Now his gaze finds me and stays there. We consider each other across the length of my office and hold the silence. Hold the silence so long that I itch to look away, but I'm not going to be the one to back down first. And it doesn't really matter where I look. I'll still be thinking about the pucker of his mouth and the last time I tasted it.

At Bella and Edward's wedding.

They were dancing. Emily and Sam were dancing. Jacob and I were drunk and craving revenge. Stupid move. Stupid move to kiss someone for revenge only to realize that you liked kissing that someone. Even more than that, you liked when that someone put their hands on you. You liked the way they said your name and curled their fingers into your hair.

You crazy shit, you liked the way it felt when they fucked you just inside the treeline that surrounded the Cullen property. And that wasn't even for revenge, because no one knew you were there or could hear you over the music and people laughing and talking. It was because, all of a sudden, you realized that you might have always had a few pent up, dirty feelings for them.

"I'm not going back without you."

I snort, and straighten my spine and lift my chin and look down my nose at him. I will not go back to that hell hole to play the role of faithful wolf companion. I won't go back there to look at all the things I don't have, have never had. I had thought those few weeks Jacob and I had had together meant something.

But then Bella had come back, and, following Bella-fashion, had been in danger. Bella had been pregnant with demon spawn bent to kill her. Bella had miraculously survived only to be threatened by vampire war. Bella was always the maiden in distress. And what had Jacob done after days of fooling me into our private affair? He had run back to her, determined to protect his maiden. And it had been made very clear: I was nothing.

And I am damn well tired of being nothing, of being second best. I won't be thrown to the side for any more Emily's or Bella's. So I decided to come here. I live in the city now. I am a lawyer. I have my own office and desk. I had my own personal assistant until Jacob most likely broke her leg bowling her over to get in here.

"Well, you'll be living outside on the sidewalk in a box for the rest of your life then," I say, and I'm snarling even though I'm trying my best to remain composed.

"I made a mistake."

I close my hands into fists, and my fake, french-tipped nails dig into my palms. I clench my fists harder anyway, as if to use the pain to keep my control. I am not the Leah Clearwater he knew last. I will never, ever fall for a man again. I am powerful and important here. Two weeks of kissing and snuggling and mind-blowing, life-altering sex don't mean anything. At least, apparently not to Jacob. So they can't mean anything to me. I think my palms might be bleeding. I'm digging my nails in hard now, because all I'm thinking about is Jacob naked and old feelings are welling up in my chest, and I think I might be sick.

"You'll have to learn to live with it then," I say.

I don't think he's blinked in five minutes.

"I tried to, but I can't. I know it's my fault. I know I did the wrong thing and hurt you, but it wasn't—It's not like that."

"It's only not like that, because Bella and Eddie and their demon baby are all happy together, and you realize that you have nothing."

The noise he makes in his throat sounds like a growl. I tilt my chin up farther.

"It's not like that," he says again. "I had come to terms about Bella before that, but she's my friend, and I had to help her. I should have come for you sooner to explain myself, but what you and I—It confused me."

I lift a brow. "And that forgives all? I was obviously just an easy distraction for you. If guilt brought you here, feel free to go home now. I don't need pity."

Jake's hands come out of his pockets, and I tense automatically. His brows knit together at my reaction, and his lips pucker together in even more of a frown. He turns and locks the door. It's stupid to feel fear from this move, but I feel the anxiety lace up my spine with the annoyance that he just locked the door to my office. Like he owns the place. Like I didn't just tell him to get out several times .

"This isn't pity, Leah, and you know it." He's crossing the floor to me, and I back up until I am against my desk. "I don't know what this is, but I want you to come back."

"That doesn't cut it." I'm talking through my teeth, because Jacob is right in front of me now, and he's only stopped walking because we're pressed flat against one another.

I try to lean away from him, but his hand finds the small of my back and holds me there. I don't know why I don't have it in me to slap him. Except that I can feel...him against the inside of my thigh, and he's just looking me straight in the eye, not making any apologies for it. His need is so apparent that I'm actually getting fucking weak in the knees. I try to find my backbone of steel.

"What do you want me to say? I'll say it. But I know you feel it too. You're all alone up here. You aren't seeing anyone. I've asked around."

It annoys me that he has.

"I'm not seeing anyone either," he says.

And then he does something detrimental to my control. He ducks his head and kisses my neck. The scrape of the hair on his face is ridiculously exciting, and the press of his tongue against my pulse undoes me. He sucks a tender circle of skin and scrapes it with his teeth. I think my eyes cross.

"Jacob, get off."

It does not sound convincing, and I don't think he thinks so either.

"I like that you've started wearing dresses," he says instead.

One of his hands is on my hip, and he effortlessly pulls me against him so that my knees are on either side of him, and he is tucked between me, like he belongs there. And only my underwear and his jeans are separating us. I order myself to think, to push him off, before it's too late.

But it is too late, because I already pictured him naked when he first walked in, and that was a mistake, because now I want to see if it's all still like I remember it.

"This doesn't change anything," I say, because I have been ridiculously lonely here, and I'm not so much caving as satisfying myself.

"Undo my pants."

I do as he says without so much as a pause, and my hands are fumbling, because I'm hungry for it, and I don't know how I manage to undo his pants or help him work them down, but I do. Jacob takes hold of my dress, works it out from underneath me, and pulls the whole thing off over my head. I at least have the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen when he finds that I'm not wearing a bra. I'm not shy around Jacob—two weeks, and he knows my body better than anyone—and I don't try to cover myself.

"Leah," he says, his eyes finding mine, "come back to me."

He must know I won't give him the answer he wants, because he covers my mouth with his, and climbs onto my desk with me, easing me back onto my small stack of papers. With what feels like an effortless tug on his part, he rips my underwear away. I let my head fall back as he slides into me the first time, and I get an upside-down view of the city through my open, fifth floor window. The sun is setting as Jacob presses into me, letting out a breath that sounds like a sigh and breezes across the skin of my chest.

The view out the window reminds me of the first time we were together, in the woods. The sun was setting then too, but now we have buildings instead of trees. It doesn't matter, because the effect is the same. I close my eyes and inhale a ragged breath as Jake pulls back only to slide in again, this time harder. Hard enough to make me arch my back. And I can feel him everywhere all at once.

And maybe I didn't stop needing him when I left La Push.

"I can't," I say, and I don't know if I'm answering him or myself as I lift my hands and grip his arms to keep myself from falling off the edge of the earth.

He nuzzles his face into my hair, presses his mouth to my neck.

"I'll convince you."


But I can't let him convince me, so, when it's over, and he's lying on top of me, sweaty and spent and glorious, I'll tell him to leave. And I keep saying it over and over again until he does. He goes out cursing, and I put my clothes back on, and I go home. I take a shower and get dressed again in a different dress. I put on a necklace I bought myself with my first big paycheck. It is a shiny, gaudy thing made of pearls and diamonds. I fix my hair. I put on makeup. I squeeze my feet into the highest of high heels.

When I'm done, I don't look like Leah Clearwater anymore. I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse. I just feel hollow, and I suppose that's better than feeling too much, so I tell myself I am satisfied, and I get in my car, and I drive to the charity dinner I had told myself I would rather skip.

But that was before Jacob had shown up in my office, and I needed something to distract myself. So I arrive at the party and go inside and try not to feel Jacob's hands all over me.

"You're working on the Robinson case, right?"

I have somehow managed to engage in conversation with a woman I only recognize from a different charity function. I recall that she told me that then that she was a lawyer too, but I no longer remember who she works for. I nod, smiling vaguely, looking over her shoulder and thinking of Jacob.

"Have they reached a verdict?"
I look back at her for a moment. I try to remember, but I can't even remember the case she is asking about, and I have a feeling I should, because it seems like that must be the case I am currently working on. But I can't think of a single Robinson I know, and I don't care to know them.

Uley. Lahote. Call. The only names I know, and suddenly I'm seeing their faces in the crowd, even though I'm a million miles away from La Push and that Leah, and I don't miss it. I don't miss them or being a wolf or the feeling of freedom I had in the forest.

I don't feel constricted in this dress or these shoes. I'm not even considering wanting to see Jacob again. That last kiss meant nothing. The sex was just sex. I don't like it when he looks sulky or needy, or when he tells me he wants me.

"No," I say. "They're still deciding."

I make up what sounds like a reasonable answer, and the woman seems satisfied, because she goes right on talking, and I'm still not listening. The hollowed-out feeling is going away, steadily replaced by anxiety and a growing sense of anger. I'm angry that Jake came here and disrupted my life. I'm angry that he's making me second-guess myself. I'm angry that he's made me wonder who this woman is standing here in my body in this dress and gaudy jewelry. I hate high heels. They are impractical and hurt my feet. Why am I wearing them? I must look dumb and out of place. I draw in a desperate breath through my nose.

"I'm sorry. Could you excuse me for a moment?"

I don't wait for her to answer. I stride as fast as I can for the door closest to me. It opens up to a little garden area with a fountain centerpiece. I am barely out the door before I kick off my shoes. I jerk the pins out of my hair until it all tumbles loose. I drag my the back of my hand across my lips to smear away the lipstick. And then, because I feel like it's a collar more than jewelry, I reach up, take hold of the necklace, and jerk it hard enough to snap it.

Diamonds and pearls go flying through the air like rain. They hit the concrete path and bounce away from me. I wish my heart was as cold and hard as the diamonds that ripple out across the ground. I wish I wasn't so weak that I could actually still be pining for a man. I think I might cry, but the door opens and someone steps out behind me, so I force the sob back down my throat.

Can't I have any peace today?
I turn to flee to my car and get the hell out of here—to get home where I can hide in the dark and find someone to carve Jacob out of my memory and senses—and I run right into Jacob. I bounce harmlessly off of his chest and stumble back. It only then occurs to me that I'm panting like an animal.

"I was watching through the door. I was going to wait to see if you tore your dress off too, but I felt like I needed to go ahead and interrupt now."

He's teasing me, but his face is serious. It's not the sulky look from before. It's a thoughtful, considering one, as if he's trying to decide what to make of me.

"What are you doing here?"

I only now realize that he is wearing a nice white shirt and slacks. I didn't know Jacob even owned clothes like that. He's shaved his face and tamed his hair as well.

"Your assistant said you were here."

I feel caged, and though I know I should force myself to stand straight, I feel like crumbling. I hadn't realized how much I had missed Jacob or my old life. I hadn't realized how hard I was pretending here.

"But why did you come here?"

Jacob says nothing for a moment. When he shrugs and looks away, I feel like I might start yelling, but the need diminishes when he finally looks back. He draws in a deep breath.

"I wanted to show you that I can fit in here. If this is where you want to be, then I'll stay here with you, but I can't go back. There's nothing there for me either."

My knees wobble. I stare at him incredulously, not sure if I understood a word he'd said. Fit in here with me?
"Of course there is, idiot. You're the pack alpha."

During uncertain times like these, I have always found it easier to fall back on meanness.

"That's not who I am. You're the only one that's ever come close to knowing me or caring to. I was an idiot to screw that up."

"Jacob, I—"

"Jesus, for once, stop arguing with me. You're going to need someone to get you out of here anyway. If we leave together, you'll look less like the crazy girl that came out here to shred up all her nice things and more like the sexy woman that came out here to have sex with a particularly nice looking guy. You can tell them all I broke that necklace."

He points toward the remains of my broken necklace, but I don't bother to look. I just stumble forward and sag against his chest and am glad that he immediately wraps his arms around me and holds me up.

"Don't worry, Leah. I know who you are."

I turn my face so that my nose is tucked into his shirt. I breathe him in.

"Yeah, I know."