37. I would find a way.

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

[AN: these are little glimpses into the Sam Bella future…]

Sam moved the rug one day just to see what Bella would do.

She came into the house with a bag of groceries in her hand. She looked at the rug in its new position looked at him and lifted her finger to point at him. "You can cut that shit out right now, Samuel Uley."

He tried to look innocent and failed. This tiny girl told him off more effectively than anyone else could.

"I am not her," Bella continued. "You don't have to keep giving me little tests. Do what you like with the dam rug… throw it in the trash for all I care…" she grumbled, as she started to put away the groceries.

He snuck in behind her and took the box of cereal out of her hand; placing it on the bench. He tucked himself into her back and he kissed her on the side of the neck.

"Sorry," he apologised in a voice so quiet she could barely hear it.

She sighed heavily. "When will you get it into your thick head that I am not going to leave you?" She tried to turn to face him. He lifted her to sit on the counter so that their faces were more level. "I'm not going to leave you… I'm not going to give you little tests or command you… I won't do it Sam… you have to trust me…"

"Sorry Bells." A little louder.

She put her arms around his wide shoulders and hugged him. "And I am not going to deny you sex… what kind of fucking idiot would I be to do that?"

"You like sex."

"Yes, you can thank Paul for that."

Sam growled. Bella hit him.

"And none of that jealousy crap either. You made me go out with him…"

"You didn't have to have sex with him," Sam blustered.

"Have you seen Paul? And he keeps asking… I am forming a theory that is his technique with women. He just keeps asking until you finally say 'okay, I'll sleep with you. As long as you go away afterwards!'"

Sam actually laughed at that.

"Now just stop it…" she crooned at him.

He sighed again.

"Help me put away the rest of the groceries … and then we'll see…" she suggested, opening her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

"See what?"

"How much I like sex."

Sam leered at her. "Okay. Not now?" He pressed himself against her hopefully.

"No. Later. My ice-cream is melting."

"Mine too baby," he rumbled at her.

She laughed.


"Okay Bells how did you do it?" Paul asked.

"Do what?" she asked Paul.

"Made Sam funny."

"He is funny."

Paul gave her a look.

"He is. He's got a brain and a fine sense of wit and irony."

"Uh huh. Wit and irony," Paul repeated.

"Oh shut up."

"He's happy," stated Embry, chomping on an apple. "Look at him."

The three of them looked at Sam on the other side of the yard. He and Jake were laughing about something. He did look happy. He noticed her scrutiny and he beamed at her.

"See," said Embry. "Happy. You just didn't know what happy Sam looked like before."


Bella was carrying out some salads to the long trestle table set up in the back yard.

"Bells, we need confirmation…" Quil called to her.

"Confirmation of what?" she asked doubtfully.

"Sam's sleeping arrangements," Quil stated.


"Come on… we don't bite," Embry encouraged.

She looked at Quil, Embry and Paul and decided that the only way she was going to sort this out was to man up and find out what they wanted. She approached them dusting her hands on her apron. "Make it snappy… I have things to do. Like dessert."

"Oh, okay… does Sam sleep with his dick tucked between your thighs?" asked Quil baldly.

"Fucking pack mind," Bella swore. She sighed heavily. "Yes, yes he does… can I go now?"

"Really?" asked Embry.


"'Cause he let it slip…" Embry started to explain. Paul had his hand over his mouth as if he was holding in his laughter.

Bella interrupted. She gave Embry the hand. "Don't care, Embry… things to do…" she started to walk away from the trio.

"But why?" Quil asked.

Bella sighed again and turned back to them. "Look," she said, "If his dick is there, then I know Sam is there… okay?"

"Oh," Quil frowned. "Okay. That makes sense. I mean he's not going to go anywhere without his dick, is he?"

"You owe me five bucks," said Paul.

"Fucking pack mind…" Bella swore as she went back to the kitchen.

"Ten bucks… she said the 'f' word, twice," she heard Paul say as she stomped away.

Sam found her in the kitchen throwing around baking trays. "Do I want to know?" he asked carefully.

"Fucking pack mind… no, no you don't want to know…"

"Okay," he backed away slowly. "Who should I talk to?"

"No one… it's just them…"

"I'm going to guess… Jake… Quil…" He paused long enough between names to gauge her response. She must have given him some physical reaction. It was like living with a human lie detector.

"Quil!" Sam roared.

"Sam?" a little worried voice answered from the yard.


Quil came into the house looking nervous. Bella kept washing up.

"She won't tell me it was you, but I can guess. What did you do to upset my woman?"


Sam glared at him. He jigged his head at Bella still throwing around baking dishes. "Upset… Quil… clearly upset."

"I just asked ... If it was true… that …" he stopped.

"Spit it out Quil…"

"You sleep with your dick between her legs… well thighs, I suppose."

Sam looked genuinely flummoxed by that statement. He spluttered, "W-what the?"

"See," said Bella. "Fucking pack mind."

Sam hung onto the edge of the kitchen counter with both hands and with his arms held straight out. His head dropped down so that his chin almost touched his chest. His hair hung across his face. The counter creaked ominously under the pressure of his fingers. "Get out," he growled at Quil who took one look at him and ran.

There was silence while Sam got himself under control. Bella knew better than to go near him when he was like this. She kept washing up.

"I'm sorry…" he finally managed. He shook his head. "I could stop doing it… if you wanted."

"Heck no. I love it." She squeezed herself under his arms so that she faced him. "Can you let go of the counter Sam?" She rubbed her hands up and down his arms and pushed her hair into his face. He loved her hair.

He lifted his fingers slowly. They looked white from the pressure.

She comforted him. "I know we have to live with the pack mind, but I will be damned if I will change anything that I like doing, just in case they find out…" Her voice dropped to a tiny whisper; meant just for Sam. "I love sleeping with your cock right there… I know you're there… I feel special and… trusted almost… like I'm guarding it for you… that's how I feel… and I love the way you hold me so tightly… as if you think I might disappear in the night… and I love it in the mornings when … you're good to go and we're already halfway there… and its so hot…"

Sam made a noise. It sounded like a groan. "Bells…" he moaned. He finally let go completely of the counter and he grabbed her. He hoisted her up against him and fastened their mouths together. He started walking for their bedroom still kissing her hungrily; his hands holding her under her thighs.

"The sausages…" she protested.

"They can turn their own damn sausages… I'm going to fuck my woman." He walked in their bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them.


Weeks later, Sam was lying on his back in the middle of his own yard. Watching the clouds roll by and keeping his mind delightfully blank. A face peered down at him. He grinned at her.


"Sam." She frowned a little. "What are you doing?"

"Watching the clouds go by."

"Uh huh."

"Want to join me?"

She lay down on the grass next to him and looked up at the sky.

"This is Claire's favourite game," he commented. "Funny kid. She lay in the yard with Quil and me that first day she came over… when Quil imprinted on her. And she insists on doing it every time she comes over. They just left. And I stayed," he tried to shrug but it was hard when he was lying down.

"What other games does Claire like playing?" Bella asked.

"Come over here and I'll show you."

He held his arms out to her.

"Where do I go?"

"Lie here on top of me… you know how to do that, honey," he growled at her, the innuendo clear.

She laughed.

"Now keep your back straight; you'll have to lift your arms and you can fly…" he grabbed her around the hips with his big hands splayed out across her pelvis and he lifted her straight up into the air above him. She let out a whoop of surprise and then she got the idea. She held her arms up and out to the sides like a plane. He laughed with her at the joyful look on her face. After a few seconds or so she collected herself. "Put me down before you hurt something," she begged.

He lowered her onto his body obligingly. "I think I like you better down here … and anyway, what would I hurt? I can probably bench press a small car."

She didn't answer him. She had her face buried in his chest.

He tried to look at her face but he couldn't pull his head back enough. "Bella?" he asked. And then very quietly, he asked it again. "What would I hurt?"

"Our baby," she whispered. She knew he could hear her.

He didn't say anything. He just wrapped his long arms around her and hugged her in against him. They lay there for the longest time. Silently. She listened to the strong steady beating of his heart and wondered when, with his exceptional hearing, he would be able to hear the tiny heartbeat fluttering inside her. If it even had a heart right now. It was probably just a blob of cells at the minute.

"Sam?" she whispered when the silence got too much for her. She wriggled a little and his arms loosened enough for her to slide up his body a little. Closer to his face. "Are you crying?" she asked. Her hands on his cheeks.

He just nodded.

"Oh honey." She flung her arms around his head and hugged him as hard as she could.

"I'm so happy," he managed to say. "That first time I was out here with Claire… I prayed Bells… I wanted our babies… not hers…"

She had forgotten about the fake pregnancy. She hadn't even shown him a test or anything; he just believed her.

He pressed his face into that spot behind her ear and sniffed hard. "Oh ….yes," he said in a low voice.

"Oh Sam." Her voice caught as if she was going to cry too. "Can you blame the gods? All because my life is such a mess, I lose track of when my Depo shot should be…" she laughed.

"So science is to blame then," he agreed.

"Or you," she suggested archly.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Because you can't keep your damn hands off me…"

"Right! It's not my hands you have to worry about, girl," he growled at her.

She squealed as he rolled them over quickly and hoisted her off the grass and into his arms. He ran for the back door as she laughed and clung to his neck.


[AN: this is where I am going to leave our happy couple. They will be very happy from here on; probably have a small pack of kids and live to a remarkable age.

And there will be no more imprinting for Sam.

Thanks for reading and reviewing to those who bothered to do so. Reviews are the only thanks us poor writers get, you know. Even if it is just a smiley face, I'm happy to get it. Fanfic, rightly or wrongly, is judged by the number of reviews a story has. And I do love reading your comments. The number of ways you all wanted to kill Emily was highly amusing and slightly worrying… have to say.

Emily? I assume she will go on with her life, but never be truly happy. Karma should make sure of that, don't you think? She will regret her behaviour and her lost opportunities.

Oddly, for me… I do not have another story ready to go. I am writing a threesome on the go for JBNP. Quil/Bella/Embry full slash. I've never tried writing slash before. If it finishes up okay, I may consider posting it on fanfic. But I will see. It's called 'Best friends share… everything.'

Oh, just in case you didn't notice. The chapter titles (except the first one) are the lyrics of the song 'Hurt' written by Trent Reznor of the Nine inch Nails. The Johnny Cash cover is awesome and eerily appropriate given the issues he had in his own life:


Or if you prefer the original (a live performance because an entire crowd singing along gives me the shivers):


OH and if you prefer to read this story in French, check Saw-v-1 on fanfic. It comes up as 'Wounded' in my google translator... lol

I have to work on some of my original stuff for a while, but I assume I'll be back, when the muse strikes. Until then, loyal readers… keep reading and reviewing!]

FF_2154210_ - 27/10/2011 03:30:00 AM