Warning: This story contains excessive foul language and some sexual references. That's why it's rated T, folks.

That being said…

Hey. This is my first multi-chaptered Twilight fic. Leah-centric, of course, because Leah's just that awesome. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.

I got the idea for this from "Cowboys & Indians," a completed Leah/Jasper (and Edward and Seth thrown somewhere in there) friendship Twilight fanfic by Minisinoo. You should all go read it. Right now. Seriously. It's one of the most bloody brilliant Twilight stories EVER, and the best Twilight werewolf/vampire friendship fic I've ever read. Historically accurate details (as far as I know), philosophy, in-character characters (xD), great character development, great development of friendship… etc. BEST. STORY. EVER. Drop everything and read it. RIGHT NOW. (And then you can read this after. xD) My story paled, pales, will pale, whatever, in comparison. Thanks.

… okay, rave over. (It's all true, though. Srsly.) This is a Leah/Jasper FRIENDSHIP fic. No romance. Yeah.

I'm not that great with writing Leah's personality (only some drabbles), so please tell me if she seems out of character, and how, if you could be bothered. :) Thanks. Same goes for Jasper. (Because God forbid he becomes "perfect" like /some/ vampires…)

Sorry for the extremely long author's note. Now, onwards~

Leeches suck. In more ways than one.

Quirking her lips sarcastically at the pun, Leah Clearwater threw herself down onto a random, nearby couch and crossed her arms rather huffily over her chest.

A week hadn't passed yet after the "battle" with the Volturi, so all the bloodsuckers with the weird names were still hanging around the Cullens' Cleanly Crypt of Creepy Constitutional Correctness, or 6C, as Leah had dubbed it (she liked alliteration; it was the best she could come up with in place of "bloodsuckers' extremely tidy house of doom and creepily nice, politically correct décor"). Jacob, in all his alpha glory, had told his pack (between stuffing his face with food and letting his imprint, the creepy little Leech Spawn touch him… alpha glory indeed), ever so eloquently, to "hang around and patrol 'cause there still might be some leech royalty or whatever around, and I want to kick their asses."

Leah, having just finished another one of her patrols with Seth, and sporting her own clothing (well, her own tank top and a pair of her little brother's old shorts), thankyouverymuch, had stormed into 6C to find Jacob, and preferably insult him. However, he was hanging out with his Leech Spawn imprint, in the middle of a crowd of bloodsuckers and the Leech Spawn's disgustingly happy, annoying, lovey-dovey parents themselves, Mind-Rapist Leech and… Leah couldn't think of something catchy or derogatory enough for Bella Swan/Cullen (she decided she really needed to find a name for them as a couple, preferably extremely insulting and something that utilized alliteration). Leah did not fancy going up to Jacob then… standing by the dumpster was bad enough, but diving into it? No thank you.

So now she waited, bored and annoyed, for her alpha to finish his Precious Quality Time with the Leech Spawn. Luckily, Dr. Dracula McFangy and his family had enough money to afford a huge house, a huge house that included more than just one room with couches to recline on, so she could at least hang out there unwillingly in peace, without the presence of bloodsuckers. Leah propped her feet onto the coffee table in front of her and hoped that her dirty, bare feet would stain the glass there. The more, the better, she said to herself, but her viciousness lacked any real bite.

"What are you doing here?"

Leah started in surprise at the words, which had hit her at about the same time the stench did, and half-turned, twisting her body around to glance at the speaker. Unfortunately, the fact that her feet were up on the coffee table prevented her from doing this properly, and she landed on the expensive-Persian-carpeted floor with a thump and a series of muffled expletives.

Peace, my ass. There's never peace when the bloodsuckers are around.

"Mind your own fucking damn business," she snapped, heaving herself up off the floor. It was the blonde bloodsucker, the male one, who had spoken. The one who could manipulate emotions. Stupid leeches with their stupid goddamn powers.

"You're in my house," the leech said, his tone actually daring to sound slightly amused. "I'd think it's at least partially my business."

"Fuck off," Leah responded automatically.

"This is my house," he reminded her, again. Yep, he definitely sounded amused. Fuck him.

Leah had to stop herself from actually growling at him. He didn't deserve a growl. He didn't deserve anything. Bloodsuckers didn't.

She sprawled herself back onto the couch, deliberately trying to appear as insolent as possible, and studiously ignored him.

This worked for about five minutes, and then her temper frayed, in a way the carpeting in the house never would. It wasn't like she could help it, though; it was the damn leech's fault for standing there, still as a statue, and staring at her with that slightly thoughtful and otherwise inscrutable expression on his face. Damn bloodsuckers and their unnaturalness. "What the hell are you staring at me for? Go suck blood or something!" Wait… I shouldn't encourage him… crap! Ugh!

"Why are you so hostile?" he asked, as if she hadn't even spoken. And he's so freaking impolite, ignoring me… hasn't he ever heard of decorum?! Never mind the fact that Leah had just been ignoring him and putting her dirty feet up on his family's coffee table, of course.

"Why shouldn't I be?" she snarled back.

He smiled tolerantly, like a mother explaining to her toddler for the first time that yes, fire is hot. No touchy fire. It burns. Ouch. (Leah realized that she wasn't just thinking about fire anymore, and quickly returned her attention to the present.) "Why do you hate us?" the leech was asking.

"I was made to." Leah glared at him, wondering why she'd actually answered his question—and without an insult too!—and stared down at the couch she was currently sprawled on. There were a bunch of creases on it, and a stain that looked like… blood. So not everything's perfect in this entire goddamn house. Ha!

Then she realized that the stain was blood, probably from some animal (or maybe even human!) the leeches had been sucking (in the house?), or the blood Jacob had said Bella fucking Swan had thrown up or something before she'd given birth to the Leech Spawn…

Leah jumped from the couch as fast as she could… a little too fast. She went down again in a tangle of limbs and cursing.

"Do you always swear so much?" It was the blonde emotion-fucking leech again.

"Damn it, you're still here?" Leah demanded. "Why the hell can't you just leave me alone? Don't you have better things to do than stand here and stare at me?"

This time, he actually acknowledged her words and answered her question. "I'm trying to figure you out," he said, calmly.

"There's nothing to figure out. What the hell are you talking about?" Leah spat back at him.

He smiled, still tolerant. Fire always burns. "Your emotions are… all over the place," he finally said, carefully, as if he was taking deliberate care in his word choice.

Leah stared at him, stupefied for a moment, and then stupefaction was quickly replaced with anger. "I don't need you screwing around with my emotions!" she shouted, perfectly aware that every leech in the house could probably hear her now. And likely Jacob, too. Yeah, well, fuck Mr. Leech Spawn Lover. … I'm telling a lot of people to fuck themselves today, huh? I should stop… no, I do not care if I'm talking to myself! Fuck you! … there I go again. … O-kay. Shutting up now.

"I'm not 'screwing around,' as you so eloquently put it, with your emotions," the leech said, still calm and tolerant, as if she hadn't just shouted at him. Huh. I said that eloquent thing about Jacob earlier, Leah noted in the back of her mind. "Haven't you noticed that you haven't felt inexplicable calm or such?"

"Yeah, well, I don't need you planning to screw around with my emotions." Leah glared at him for good measure. Glares of Doom from Leah often sent most people running for the hills.

Blonde Emotion-Fucking Leech (or BEFL, as Leah decided to call him on the spur of the moment), however, was not most people, apparently. Then again, vampires usually weren't. (The whole glittering-in-sunlight and drinking-blood thing was kind of a dead giveaway.) He only smiled (and if he continued looking all calm and forbearing she'd have to slap that smile off his face, regardless of how much it would definitely hurt her hand) again. "I'm not planning to, either."

"Well, then stop reading my emotions! Mind your own fucking damn business!" Leah screeched at him, her temper flaring again. "All people want to do is screw around with my life! Leave me alone!"

She realized, with some dismay, that she was no longer talking about the BEFL (what was his name, again, anyway?) wondering about her emotions. And now there was a new expression on his face—one of slight sympathy and understanding. He probably knew what she was suddenly thinking, and felt it, too. Leah was suddenly overcome with the urge to phase and scratch and tear at that look on his face until it was as scarred as Emily's (not possible for bloodsuckers, unfortunately), so he couldn't look at her that way anymore.

She turned and ran instead.

The chapters will get longer as the story goes on. Probably. So, what do you think so far? Reviews are awesome. ;D -hinthint-