A/N: So the following in Italics is part of a scene that I originally started and then got frustrated with, because I was trying to do some shower sex logistics with Em/A and encountered a severe case of the fail. I gave up the sex and instead wrote this rant to shower sex. After that, per Miztrezboo's request, is a little bit of Emmett's inner monologue (and physical interaction) with Alice and the element of water, because she is amazing and possibly the greatest makers of gif's on the planet.

Outttake: Brought to you by the letter G

APOV

Standing up sex is entirely pointless when your boyfriend has roughly a foot on you.

Granted, if he wanted, Emmett could probably hold me up on his dick and bounce me up and down like a rag doll he's that jacked, but I would feel like I wasn't doing anything, like I was just worthless.

So I don't understand the shower sex compulsion.

Oh, I understand the hot tub compulsion and the claw-footed bathtub compulsion, but shower sex? Shower sex in the group bathrooms in the boys' dormitory, or worse, the boys' locker room?

Ew.

No thank you, I politely decline having to explain to my doctor why I have athlete's foot in my hoo-ha.

But sex in water…clean water, that seemed like a good idea. Being wet always looks good to people in the magazines, right?

Besides, we would be weightless in water, and Emmett would maybe temporarily forget his size complex when I got out of the water in my thin white shirt, with no bra underneath.

And no, I don't know why I'm wearing my Olaf's shirt in my water fantasy, but I blame that movie with Neve Campbell and Denise Richards.

Fucking unrealistic expectations.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*

EPOV

Alice does small things because she is a small person. The way her hips are so narrow that they don't switch from side to side like the beating of bongo drums. It's more like…little finger cymbals or chimes as she moves to a quicker beat when she is walking to keep up with me, and slower when she is walking deep in thought and I must slow down for her.

The way her ears seem almost elf-like they are so small and funny-shaped. I know she hates them; she never tucks her hair behind her ears.

The arch of her foot in my hands seems breakable, and her bottom row of teeth look like they belong on an eight year old.

But the thing about Alice is that these small things, coming from this small person, practically echo. Her stride is graceful and confident, even if it is a bit short and she must hurry to keep up. I've caught Jasper's eyes dropping to her waist more than once when she is walking, assessing with some surprise the honky tonk butt that's hidden under the plaid.

The way her words, often said with a carefully peaceful exterior, make their point just as loudly as when she is screaming.

The way I get all girly and sentimental thinking about this shit when I should be thinking about bending her over this weight bench and watching us go at it in the floor to ceiling mirror.

She does this.

Watches me lift weights because I can't sleep until I'm completely and utterly physically exhausted, even though we both know I'm a pussy because I could be working out all my energy on her, except that she's so tiny.

I bench press more than she weighs, what would happen if I really went to work, really hammered out my frustrations and adrenaline and sexual energy on her?

My father is in the military; the 'never hit a woman' rule has been stitched on the inside of my skull.

Isn't leaving bruises on a woman's body from loving her the same thing?

So we sit in the weight room, which stinks of stale sweat and that weird, old leather smell from the benches and mats lying around the room. Alice sits high up in an old abs machine and mutters to herself in Spanish with a southern twang.

On nights when I know she has Spanish homework, I forego my IPod altogether because it's so damn cute I swear I'm growing a vagina.

Ew, vagina.

Who named it that? That sick fuck needs to be dragged out to a field and taught that the letter g makes absolutely NOTHING sound sexy. Seriously. The "juh" sound ruins everything.

I start with legs, as always, and if I'm really wound up, I go all the way through the circuit; cardio, legs, arms, abs, and cool down. My quads feel like jelly after a round of lunges and squats, but I have a staring contest with Alice while I do them in the mirror, and I wink and grin at her when she loses and just has to check out the pants.

And watching my girl eye my stuff? Does not help with the lunges.

Tonight I quit early.

I never quit. Another lesson in life not learned from Sesame Street, but instead by the army. Fight or die trying. A great thing to teach a four year old.

But tonight the army and my slightly scarring childhood are not forefront in my mind.

I'm watching Alice's foot bounce up and down in her grey St. Olaf's sweats, textbook forgotten in her lap.

Her hair is wet because she went running with Rosalie after school and when it's wet, it kind of does some funky curl thing at the ends before it dries and gets really frizzy and static-ky.

"We've only been here for twenty-five minutes." She helpfully points out; clearly telling me her mind was not on her task at hand either.

"I need a shower."

"You're barely sweating."

"Alice. I need a shower."

"So go. And make sure you wear your flip flops. There's mold from the dark ages in those showers."

Well. Way to kill the mood Alice.

I sighed. "What are the odds you'll let me fuck you in the shower?"

Might as well be blunt. Alice could sniff out half-truths like a bloodhound.

Her eyes narrowed to slits. She would look absolutely fucking hot in a pair of black-framed glasses.

And apparently I have a nerd fetish.

Weird.

"There are no odds unless you want to wrap me up in a bio-hazard suit."

I bit my lip.

Apparently my dick thought bio-hazard was pretty good dirty talk.

Z was a sexy letter. That had to be it.

"Back to the dorms?"

"Mike is in your room and Rose is in mine."

"So kick her out."

"Ah! Kick Mike out!"

I couldn't. Guy had already been manhandled by my lady once, twice was just mean.

I sighed. Leave it to Rosalie Hale to find a way to give me blue balls without being in the vicinity of said balls.

"Classroom?"

Alice rolled her eyes.

"Practice room?"

"Edward would murder us with his bare hands if we put a single mark on his piano."

"Lake?"

"Again, with the desire to attract multiple diseases via water."

"Well, how about the pool then? There are even chlorine tablets to make sure it's clean."

Alice eyed me with some interest.

Bingo.

And that's how we ended up using one of Edward's keys to sneak into the pool after hours, in the complete dark, stubbing our toes and swearing like sailors until we hurriedly stripped off our clothes and stood, butt naked, staring at the depth of water in front of us.

"It looks cold."

I rolled my eyes.

"It's water Alice. Can we please just—"

And then her tiny little hands were on my ass and I was falling.

Crack.

Face first into the water.

Fuuuck.

It was cold.

And my dick thought so too.

Note to self. Sex in water must require heated water.

I surfaced, coughing and wheezing and 'brrring' fit to wake the dead and Alice was standing there, naked with her hands on her hips, looking doubtfully down at me.

"Don't make me chase you around this pool and throw you in." Because that would mean I'd be running when I was wet and shriveled and so entirely cliché that it would make me sick.

I just wanted my girl to be wet and on my dick, who knew it would take this much work?

Actually, what I really wanted was to pin her down in my bed and give it to her so hard and so deep we'd both be sore and exhausted for days, just thinking about the epic fucking we had done. I wanted to bury myself inside all that energy and wear her out. I wanted to have my tongue in her mouth and my cock in her body and I wanted to use her until she screamed herself hoarse.

I wanted a lot of things. And Alice loved to tempt me, but I held back. Whether it was because of embarrassment or fear or self-consciousness about wanting something so damn badly and having to say it out loud before I just hopped on and started humping the hell out of her, I kept quiet.

Because I could damage her.

And because it would just be too damn telling.

Everything I wanted from Alice, it stemmed out from sex. In class, at lunch, hell even when we just hanging out, I couldn't express just how sprung I was on her. Her smile, her crazy tiny ears, her even crazier tiny feet, her laugh, her resilience—I'd sound like some kind of stalker. Or love sick idiot, I'm not sure which I'd rather be.

So Imma fuck my girl in the water, which is this sick, perverse urge that I'm sure one hundred percent of males jack off to, and pretend its about fulfilling any latent Denise Richard/Neve Campbell fantasies I had.

It's not about that.

It's about wanting to do as much with her while I've got her.

Just in case.

Just in case someday she breaks up with me, or we have to move apart, so some crazy high school drama shit splits us up.

I want to be the one who has her firsts.

I may not have been her first, due to the aforementioned high school bullshit that resulted in Cullen doing a job I probably would have chickened out about anyway, but I was her first orgasm.

That's probably way more important than first fuck in girl world.

I want to be her first water fuck.

Her first outdoor fuck.

Her first everything.

I want to be her first love, if she'll let me.

Yeah, I told you I was sprung.

So I hoist myself up one of the steps on the side of the pool and reach out my hand, still half in the chilly water.

Alice eyes it and closes her hand in mine.

Tiny.

Each bone can be felt clearly and if I squeeze too hard, her knuckles shift together and she yelps.

The fine craftsmanship of her wrist also fits in my palm, at the edges of my fingertips as I pull her closer to the pool.

I want her to be under me.

I want her to inside of me, just as much as I get to be inside of her.

She takes a step down, reaching the highest step on the ladder. Her ankles and calves are distorted by the dark water, but so white I can see them from above the surface.

She shivers.

I make a silent promise to keep her warm.

She's looking at me, smirking, reading that promise in my face.

She catches me sometimes, thinking those girly thoughts.

It always brings the best smile to her face.

I smile back and wrap an arm around her waist, bringing her down, despite her protests into the water and reveling in the almost magical touch of her wet body against mine.

As we move she clings and slithers against me. Her nipples are hard as rocks and she's got goose bumps everywhere.

And I can't help but kiss her, legs around my waist, body sealing itself to mine, springing forth heat that neither of us can explain because we're both chattering with the cold.

More goose bumps.

"Oh." Alice purrs and kisses my neck. Then she blinks.

"You taste like chlorine."

I debated telling her it was better than sweat, but kept quiet as she kissed my ear and over to my jaw, ending with my lips.

Her nose was still crinkled.

"If my vagina gets icicles on it, I will be severely pissed."

"God! Alice! You know I hate that word."

"Well I hate water sex. Water sex is overrated." Alice chirps as she hoists herself further up my body, hands using my shoulders to support herself. Her nipples peak out above surface and then disappear as she splashes water inadvertently.

"What about water orgasms? Those overrated?" I tease, one hand reaching down to rub one knuckle across that spot she likes so much.

"N-no." And her heels press into my ass, telling me how much she doesn't think they're overrated.

I do my own taste test, indeed tasting the water instead of skin, almost slimy in mouth, but the sensation of her wet body is too good to care that's weird.

Alice brings my face up to hers, as she is situated above me per usual, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth and determinedly kissing me until I'm out of air and more than a little hard.

I place her hand underwater and she closes around it, slick and yet firm, as we prepare ourselves with barely audible breaths of air.

"It's like your hand's there, but it isn't. Like a ghost." Alice sighs to me through lazy-lidded eyes and her breath is getting faster. If I'm not careful, she'll go over the edge and drown.

There would be worse ways to go I suppose.

I remove my fingers and press my dick against her, rubbing her clit.

"Can you feel this?" I grin and she can't even manage looking indignant.

"Either fuck me with it or get out of the pool McCarty. I'm trying to have overrated water sex here." She sputtered and I groaned.

My girl knew what talking like that did to me.

It was cliché, but it worked. Not to mention I could tell she meant it.

She wanted me.

She had me.

My first try was met with our bodied colliding and me slipping away from her.

The second try resulted in even more slippery results and I grunted in frustration.

Then I was in and we both sighed.

It was like having sex with a ghost.

She was in my hands, but the weight I was used to supporting was not there.

I was inside of her, but I could still feel the water all over my body.

We were moving, but it more that the water was moving us like a gentle wave than the usual thrust and squirm together tighter than I was used to her.

I missed her weight.

I missed thrusting into her.

I missed her pressing further down.

I missed being dry and in my bed.

Maybe she was right.

Water sex was overrated.

But I cupped her cheeks in my hand anyway and kissed her deep and let her wriggle and crash into my chest as we gasped and pushed, pulled and exhaled.

When the end came for me, she was already done and clamped onto me, clutching me for dear life, fingernails digging into my shoulders as she fought for purchase.

She was weightless and flying.

And I wanted to follow.

I shoved myself in as deep as I could go and let go; sinking almost entirely beneath surface as Alice yelped and lost her grip on me. I saw her legs kick out in surprise and then remember the motions of swimming as her hand tugged me by the hair, keeping me above water.

I breathed hard as she grasped me by the ears and kissed me soundly, using one arm to bring us to the edge of the pool of her own volition.

I was useless, still reeling.

I loved that she did that to me.

Every time.

Water or no water.

She hauled one arm over the edge of the pool and began to pull herself over the edge before we drowned one another.

I watched the round globes of my girl's ass appear and grinned like an idiot.

If that was the visual I was blessed with, I'd have sex in a body of water, contaminated or no, once a day happily for the rest of my life.

Alice stood with no small amount of trouble and turned to look at me.

"There aren't any towels." She eyed her clothes and cringed, clearly not relishing the idea of putting them on while dripping with water.

I pushed myself out of the pool and pushed some of her wet hair back to kiss those elfish ears of hers. I lingered there.

"I'll keep you warm."

I couldn't tell her all those thoughts that floated through my head on a daily basis. I couldn't find words for what happened when I got lucky enough to have sex with her.

But I could make that promise and keep it, even if the rest would have to go left unsaid.