Hey, a chaptered Blackwater fic! No way!

I don't know how quickly updates will come. For those who don't know, updates are my enemy. I'm terrible. I've written four chapters for this already, but who knows with me.

Anyway, enough rambling!

This is rated T, mind you there might be later chapters rated M, I haven't decided yet. And Leah likes to swear. So be ready for that.

One last thing! The quote in the summary is from the play Wicked, which I would love to see. But alas.

Standing in front of the mirror, in the not-quite-as-pretty-as-Emily-had-predicted pink strapless bridesmaid dress, Leah came to the conclusion that her right boob was significantly larger then her left one.

Now she knew that everyone had one boob that was bigger then the other (well, not men, but Leah didn't have time to get into all the things men didn't have to go through), just like everybody had a leg that was a little bit longer (she was 12 when she first found that out, and she got so freaked out she made seven year old Seth tug on her left leg for 45 minutes). But she hadn't expected it to be so noticeable! But there it was, staring her right in the face (or rather, chest). Her right boob was significantly larger then her left one.

She was standing there, contemplating that unfortunate turn of events, when Jacob Black, her escort, walked in, looking quite handsome (not that she would ever admit that) in his black tux.

"Leah? Come on, let's go."

Leah didn't move, simply cocked her head and tried to look at her chest from a different angle. Nope. Still bigger.

"Um, Leah, what are you doing?"

Leah sighed, putting her hands on her hips and talking to Jacob's reflection in the mirror.

"My right boob is significantly larger then my left one."

Jacob's face turned confused.

"Er… that's great, Leah…"

"No, it's not great. It throws the whole dress out of whack."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but we've got to go."

Leah still didn't move, cocking her head the other way. It still didn't make her boobs look the same size.

"Leah?"

"Hmm?"

"This isn't about your boobs."

"It isn't?"

"Nope."

"Well, enlighten me, Jacob. What is this about?"

"You don't want to do this, and you're using your boobs as an excuse."

Leah laughed. "Hate to break it to you, Jacob, but your amazing insight into my disfigured chest is totally wrong."

"You're using your boobs as an excuse to not go out there, because you don't want to be here, and you don't want to be the maid of honour."

He was so right, and that pissed her off to no end.

"Alright, so I don't want to see my ex- boyfriend marry my cousin, is there something wrong with that?"

"Not at all. But hiding behind your chest is wrong."

Leah rolled her eyes. "You're right, O Great One, I will forever on face my problems."

"Why did you even say yes, Leah?"

Leah turned around and faced him.

"What else was I supposed to do? She didn't really give me a choice."

"She said, 'Leah, if this is too hard for you, I completely and fully understand. You don't need to do this.'"

"Yes, but she didn't actually-"

"Leah."

Leah sighed, looking around for a chair to slump into. There wasn't one, so she just tugged on her braid.

"Look, I don't want to talk about this. I just want to get this stupid goddamn wedding over with so I never have to wear this stupid goddamn dress again."

Jacob grinned. "I'm with you. And you're right- pink is not your colour."

Leah hit him hard in the chest before looping her arm through his and exiting the room, smiling wide (and totally falsely) as she walked down the aisle.

She tried to imagine. She tried to picture that it was her wedding, that Jacob was her father, walking her down the aisle. That her ugly pink dress was replaced with a white one, one that looked nicer on her, and that her short hair hadn't had to be tugged at so fiercely to put it into a braid that she felt like her scalp had been tugged off. She tried to imagine that Sam was waiting for her.

But that wasn't the truth. The truth was it wasn't her wedding; she was stuck in this stupid dress, with Jacob Black walking her down the aisle as she went and stood next to Rachel and Kim, trying to smile when all she really wanted to do was cry. Because this was not her wedding, and Sam was not waiting for her. Sam didn't even glance at her.

Jacob gave her a little squeeze and a look that said they would talk about it. Leah scowled at him. It was really annoying, the way he seemed to pick up on whenever something was wrong. Guys weren't supposed to be that intoned with emotion. God knows Leah could scream bloody murder and slam her door and throw things around and Seth still wouldn't know something was wrong with her.

Leah resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She resisted the urge to yank out her hair. She resisted the urge to phase and run off to Canada. And when Emily started to walk down the aisle, she resisted the urge to lunge at her and ruin the other side of her face.

She was a terrible person. She was a terrible cousin. She was a terrible maid of honour.

Sam, for his part, didn't notice that his ex-girlfriend was thinking of ways to severely injure his bride. Sam didn't seem to notice anyone, really. No one except Emily. Who didn't even really look that pretty. And Leah wasn't thinking that because she was vindictive, or anything. She just didn't look that pretty. Her hair was pulled tightly back, so that Emily's face was taut, and the dress clung tightly but not tight enough, so that you could clearly see Emily's lack of curves.

Smirking slightly, Leah thought that she would rather have two mismatched boobs then no boobs at all.

Sam didn't seem to have a problem with Emily's boobs, or lack thereof. Sam didn't seem to have a problem with anything, actually. Of course, that would probably change if he could hear Leah's thoughts at the moment.

Leah looked at the line of ushers. Sam's best man was Jacob, simply because of blood, so he stood there, looking around, looking bored. Behind him, Paul and Jared stood. Leah felt like an outcast, the imprints all standing together, and then her. She glanced at Jacob. Renesmee should have been maid of honour. Then the happy imprint clan would be complete. In the first row sat Quil, Embry, Seth, and all the newer wolves. Emily only knew so many bridesmaids, after all.

Emily was taking forever to walk up the damn aisle. Really, Leah wasn't getting any younger. Mind you, Leah wasn't getting any older, either. Dammit. Couldn't she just hurry up?

When she (finally!) did get to the front, Emily smiled beatifically at Leah and handed her the bouquet. Leah smiled back and tried to concentrate on something else. Hmm, let's see… books. Movies. Love. Romance. Richard Gere. Emily loved Richard Gere. No, fuck, that wasn't working. Pillows. Blankets. Bed. Sam and Emily in a bed. Goddammit!

Leah let her gaze wander and it rested on Jacob Black. Hmm, that could work. Jacob Black. Bella Swan. Renesmee Cullen. Imprint. Sam imprinting. Sam imprinting on Emily. Sam imprinting on Emily and leaving Leah. Fuck! Even Jacob had betrayed her.

"I do."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Emily had just said 'I do.' She knew what was coming next. Something that held only pain. Only pain, only for her.

Gee, wasn't she lucky.

She looked up and found herself staring at Jacob. She didn't look away, just stared at him. He was almost anchoring her to the earth, and she stared at him as Sam said the words she had regretted hearing for years.

"I do."

Pain swelled up, starting at her toes and making it's way up, stabbing into her lungs and her heart and all of those internal organs that matter most. The pain nearly suffocated her, and she closed her eyes, trying hard to fight against it. Pain, pain, go away, come again another day. That was the problem. It always came back.

The crowd cheered, people cried, Sam and Emily kissed, but all Leah wanted to do was hunt. Yes, killing a deer or a duck or anything would make her feel a hell of a lot better right now.

xxx.

"Dance with me?"

Jacob Black stood over Leah, smiling, holding out his hand. Leah glared up at him from her seat. She was sitting at the unofficial werewolf table, poking at her food. Embry was on her left, and Seth was on her right. Jared and Kim were dancing, Paul and Rachel were making out, Quil was holding Claire and twirling around the dance floor in a way that was sure to end badly, and Sam and Emily were dancing, if you could call it that. To Leah, it just looked like they were having sex with clothes on, they were pressed so closely together.

"No."

Jacob didn't listen, just grabbed her arm and yanked her up. She glowered at him.

"I said no."

"I know."

"You're so fucking annoying."

"That's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" He asked. Leah pulled away from him, but Jacob was stronger. He simply smiled and dragged her into the middle of the dance floor, linking his arms around her waist while she- begrudgingly- lifted hers around his neck. Leah had to admit, it was nice dancing with someone who was actually taller then she was.

"It's almost over, Leah."

Leah sighed, her eyes roaming and finally landing on his shoulder.

"It's never over. It never will be over. Sure, the wedding will end, but after that, there will be anniversaries, child births... they'll always be together. It will never be over."

Jacob didn't know what to say to that, so he simply pulled her closer and they danced until the song ended. Leah pulled away abruptly after that and sat back down.

"What, no more dances?"

"I'm done dancing."

"Come on Leah."

"No."

Jacob sighed, but sat down next to her anyway.

"You can still dance, you know."

"Who else am I going to dance with?"

Leah looked around.

"Well, there's Kim. Emily. Rachel. That one girl who keeps staring at you, the one with the really thick eyeliner? I'm sure she would dance with you."

Jacob didn't say anything, just picked at the food that was on Seth's plate.

"Jacob? If I ask you something, will you promise not to get mad?"

He thought for a moment.

"No."

Leah continued on anyway.

"Do you think its right? The way you have to wait? I mean, it's better for you, because she ages quickly, and she's probably old enough that you could now, if you wanted to, even though I know you have that whole weird, wait until she's actually eighteen thing going on. But what about Quil? Do you think it's right that he still has years before he gets to be with the person he's supposed to be with?"

"Leah, you know what I think about imprinting."

"But is it the same? That's what I've been wondering. Do you still think the same, even though you've imprinted?"

Jacob sighed, leaned back against his chair.

"Yes. Sort of. Relatively."

"That doesn't clear up anything. It just adds more questions."

"I think that being trapped like that, it's wrong. I still think that, even though it's happened to me. I don't like how much it hurts, being away from her. I don't like how I would do anything for her. I would rather love her through my own free will, instead of some weird voodoo magic spell that makes it so that I can't breathe unless she's there."

Leah didn't answer for a minute, but then she said, "Do you wish you had never imprinted on her?" She couldn't bring herself to say the spawn's name. Jacob's eyes clouded over, and he turned away from her.

"They're throwing the bouquet," he said, and sure enough, there was Emily, beckoning her over. Leah let out a low sigh, but she got up and went over anyway. It wasn't like she had much of a choice.

Women were crowded all around her. Old woman, young woman, even Claire was there, high up on Quil's shoulders, which was definitely not allowed. Emily grinned at them all and then turned her back, and to Leah, it seemed like the moment that followed was in slow motion, the way Emily's arms flew over her head, the way the bouquet left her hands, and the way a million different hands suddenly flew out, desperate to catch the flowers. Leah wanted to stop on their toes.

The bouquet, on the other hand, was heading straight towards her. Leah had a second to think about the irony of it all before she reached out and grabbed the flowers, snatching them out of the clutches of fifty other women. Emily smiled at her, and a few women glared at her, and finally Leah's brain caught up with her actions, and she looked down at the flowers in her hand and concentrated on not throwing them underneath her heels and stomping on them.

"So when's the wedding?" Leah looked up to see Jacob grinning at her, and she resisted the urge to throw the stupid flowers at him.

"I'm doing you a favour. Thick Eyeliner Girl was ready to pounce."

"Yes, you're a saint," he said sarcastically. She looked once again at the flowers in her hands.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with these?" She asked, and Jacob shrugged.

"I don't know. Hold onto them. Maybe they'll bring you luck. Maybe you'll imprint," he teased, and Leah rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, that'd be great," she said. But as she looked at Sam and Emily, once again acting like the Happy Married Couple they were, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe it would be better. If maybe the pain would go away.

xxx.

Seth was delirious enough to ask, when they got home, if Leah had fun.

"Oh, yes, Seth, so much fun. Because seeing my ex marry my cousin is my idea of a good day."

Seth went silent, and Leah immediately felt bad, guilt creeping up on her, something that hadn't affected her in years. Damn, she was going soft.

"Sorry Leah. I forgot. I was tired..."

"I know. It's fine."

But it wasn't fine, and a wall suddenly slammed itself down in the middle of them. Leah excused herself awkwardly to her room, where she tugged off her dress and took her hair down.

Standing in front of the mirror, Leah stared at herself. She was pretty. There was no denying it. She didn't want to be conceited, but she was. She had heard it from many people. And even after she had to cut her hair short, she was still pretty. She was prettier then Emily. Much prettier then Emily.

But, she reminded herself bitterly, it wasn't how you looked that made you imprint. It was who you were on the inside. It was meeting the one person who you could connect to, who shared the same personality as you. Emily and Sam were alike in so many ways- that's why they were meant to be together.

There was nobody out there as bitter and cynical as her, apparently. Apparently, she thought bitterly, she was completely unlovable.

She picked up the flowers she had caught at the wedding, stuck her nose in them, and then chucked them against the wall. When they were still there in the morning, she went out in the back and burned them.

I have absolutely no idea when this takes place.

I'm thinking that Renesmee would be old enough that she's more aware of love. She's not old enough for Jacob to want to be with her yet, but she's old enough that she's thinking about love and relationships. As to why Sam and Emily took so long to get married, while, who knows. Maybe they're one of those couples who get engaged and don't get married until four years later.

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