When a Cricket chirps in the Night

Chapter 1

The tourists within the swerving bus screamed, gripping onto their chairs (anything in reality) for a sense of balance. Some were not so lucky and went crashing within the aisle of the tour bus, still screaming bloody murder as the bus leaned on two of it's tires on one side. It didn't help when the bus came down to all four, that it was sliding down a muddy hill.

Cricket waited until the bus came to a rocky stop. Her breaths were coming fast and hard, heart pumping as if she had personally competed in the Olympics. She brushed back her lion mane-like fiery hair, pushing away her curls as she glanced at everyone in the tour bus and blinked rapidly. "Wha in tarnation jus' happen'd?" she chirped, her southern drawl annoying her seatmate.

"Shut it, Cricket." The man next to her, who groaned in pain, said. "Fuck, I can hear your Texas-ass from a mile away."

Her freckled face twisted in a menacing look. "Shut yer mouth!" she said, punching his shoulder. Cricket ignored his groan and peered around the other groaning members of the tour. "W'eres the tour guide?"

Speak of the devil.

A scrawny man struggled to lift himself from his seat and address to everyone. "Is—is everyone alright?" he asked.

"My spleen!"

The tour guide winced and turned to the bus driver who was knocked out, most likely from the pure relief of being able to stabilize the giant transportation vehicle. He turned back to his tourists and ordered them to check on their seatmates while he fished out a map from his backpack. His eyes squinted, darting around the map and twisting it around until he had figured out where they were stuck. "A-aha!" he stabbed at the map, nearly poking a hole in it. "We're near Forks!" The tour guide turned back to the people of the bus with an expression of heaven as he yelled, "We're saved!"

He was officially an idiot.

Cricket snarled, glaring at the back of the tour guide's head as he walked ahead of everybody else, flashing his flashlight from side to side before continuing in the dark. It was one in the morning for Christ sakes!

Cricket Turner (which she was unfortunately named by her highly-medicated mother and hippy-like father) had saved enough money from working as a teller in a bank near her apartment back in rodeo Texas. She had just turned twenty-one years old last month and spent all her savings into the dream of exploring the different states of America. It was a dream she has ever had as a child and she was lucky to have found the tour in the first place.

This specific tour was created by the state of Texas as a present towards the newly college graduates. They decided it as something like a last three months of freedom before slaving off to job-hunting and family-breeders. Starting in the capital of Texas, the tour was to travel clockwise, traveling to California to Oregon to Washington to Idaho to so on and on forth. The tour was hella expensive and was stated to travel around the country in a swirling oval to explore all fifty states. They had held Hawaii off for last, because you know, they save the best for last.

But look at this; it wasn't going swell. Nope, not at all!

Cricket whined as she dragged her luggage behind her. "Ah'm gunna kill tha' sonuvabitch!"

Her seatmate, Jeremy, rolled his eyes, blowing his blond hair out of his chocolate eyes. "Sometimes, I wonder if you have a whole different language for you southerners."

Cricket rolled her eyes at her Californian-bred friend. "Ah mean, lookit 'ere, Jer'my! We're in Washington! Washington, dagnabbit! We jus' startin' our trip, too, and now that bus be goin' all git nabbin' in Washington?"

Jeremy merely watched as the southern redhead fired up, spewing out words that made no sense at all to others as he blinked rather bored. Born and bred in California, but transferred to Texas for college, Jeremy still had no idea what the norm southerners say most of the time. All he knew was that most likely most of them inbred with their family and created this thick-ass language that no one in the world can understand besides their relatives.

He rolled his eyes and nodded towards the moving herd. "Come on, redhead, let's go."

"Aww' man!" Cricket sobbed, walking further into the night as she dragged her luggage behind her. Her pale green eyes watched as the tour guide whipped up into shape, gibbering with the other graduates as if trying to gain their good side.

He hasn't been getting anything from her besides her spitfire attitude.

Cricket sighed and continued after Jeremy, her converse wrapped around her swelled feet. Nothing sounded better than some tequila and jack! She hummed in appreciation, sighing as she followed the crowd.

As the group continued to follow the freeway (and yes, a lot of the college graduates did complain rather loudly), they finally found light.

"Hey, y'all, there's light!" Cricket cheered, relief to get away from the dark.

Soon enough, everyone stood in front of a shady motel with the neon light of the Motel 7 Heaven sign fizzling every so often. Many of the people shuffled in place, reluctant to get a room when they should be in a very expensive hotel room as planned by the brochure.

"Come on! I've talked with the motel owner and he says we can get a very generous deal if everyone nabs a room!" the tour guide said, smiling brightly as if there wasn't a possibility of a murder happening tonight.

Jeremy sighed, turning his neck and cracking it before heading towards the motel. "Come on, Cricket, let's go. I'll room with you."

Cricket frowned at the Californian surfer, picking up her luggage and following him slowly as her eyes darted from one place to another. She's known the dude for over two weeks now and she wasn't suspicious of anything happening tonight. But the motel wasn't exactly a comfortable thought. "Are yew sure there ain't gonna be any killin's or sumthin'?"

Jeremy finished writing off and signing some paperwork with the motel owner and turned. "Cricket, just shut the hell up and let's go to our room. I'm tired."

"Buh' I want liquor!"

"Fine, just give me an hour then we'll go. I want to rest my feet!"

As they passed the tour guide, Cricket gave him a stinky eye and wasn't at all surprised when he returned it twice-fold. During the whole tour, that rat-face had been giving her the jeebers and made snarky comments about her heavy southern accent throughout the two weeks. She wouldn't at all be surprised if he dumped her body in a ditch tonight.

The thought made Cricket click her tongue and reminded herself to put her Swiss Army knife under her pillow tonight.

"Cricket!"

"Ah'm comin', ah'm comin'!"

Cricket walked inside the motel room and dumped her luggage onto the bed and screamed loudly. "Mah feet hurt!"

Jeremy came out of the restroom and rubbed his very attractive face from the tiredness threatening to overtake him. "I can really use some alcohol."

The motel owner who was checking in on everybody's rooms popped his head into their doorway and grinned. "There's a bar down south about a mile or two! It doesn't close until five in the morning, I say! You, youngsters, should go check it out before leaving in the morning."

"Less' do that!" Cricket jumped off the bed and grinned at Jeremy! "Is's only one-forty five!"

"Fine," Jeremy sighed.

Suddenly, at his agreement, the door was flocked by the other females of the tour. They immediately surrounded Jeremy, squealing and laughing flirtatiously as they told they were going to tag along with Jeremy. It was one of the reasons why Jeremy stuck himself to Cricket rather than the others. The cowboys were threatened by his Californian-self while the innumerous Luanne's intimidated him with their bold sassy sexy bodies and threats of rape.

But Cricket was just Cricket. She had no interest whatsoever in him and he was glad for it.

"I'm going with Cricket."

At that said, Cricket found herself at the glares of the other women.

"Whuh do ya want?" she said, narrowing her eyes back at them.

They merely scoffed and rolled their eyes. "Jeez, who let that trailer trash here?"

Instead of confronting the women, she merely sneered at them and walked into the restroom to change.

After she showered, Cricket looked into the mirror and wrinkled her nose at her reflection. She brought her hand to her face and fingered one of the many freckles that splattered on her face like rain. Her mother always called Cricket her little freckled-spotted egg, but damn…Cricket didn't like it! She hated her freckles. It literally covered her whole face, neck, and shoulders. It was no surprise that the damn brown spots scavenged around her breasts too!

She merely sighed and started combing at her tumultuous hair, untangling it and blow-drying it till it literally was a bird's nest.

Why couldn't she just have normal brown straight hair, was a mystery to this day.

Cricket whistled through her pouty pink lips, applying light make up and mascara. She fished out torn jean shorts and a mini-white tee, finishing off with her lovely ripped up converse. Just because her family was trailer trash didn't mean that she shouldn't look like it!

Jeremy knocked on the door. "Hurry it up in there! I want to sleep soon, you know!"

"Ah'm ready!" she chirped, throwing the door open and chucking her luggage within the closet. "W'ere's the room key?"

"I have it," Jeremy said as he walked towards the door. "Shirley and the rest of her group are going to be joining us."

Before she can even look digusted at what he said, a short blond made way towards them. Shirley, the mini-barbie wannabe smirked at Cricket, looking at her up and down before saying, "You can actually clean up for once."

Cricket wasn't at all threatened. The short woman had nothing on her five-eleven tall frame. "Come on, shorty, don't drag us down." She merely said before turning her heel and walking towards the direction the motel owner pointed to.

Shirley fumed but said nothing as she hooked her arm around Jeremy's and pressing her rather large breasts against his side.

Cricket laughed at Jeremy's misfortune but thought nothing of it. She continued to walk through the night, somewhat enjoying the cool breeze as it toyed with her curls. The girls behind were already complaining about the walk and their itsy bitsy feet in their itsy bitsy teeny tiny cute shoes. That's why Cricket was smart. She wore converse and she was already used to walking two miles from work to home.

The bar was in sight and it was just as lively.

It wasn't big per say, but it was comfortable. The people in the bar obviously knew each other from the way they greeted one another with a friendly hug. And from the way they were looking at the newcomers, they were curious.

"How are you doing tonight, hot stuff?" the bartender asked with a wink, cleaning the glass mug in his hand with a small towel before giving his whole attention to Cricket who blinked at him rather owlishly.

"Ah'm doin' aw'right," she answered. "Ah'll have a coke wiff sum rum."

The bartender literally leaned away from the bar, blinking at Cricket with an incredulous expression before Jeremy translated her words. "She'll just have a Cuba Libre and I'll have Heineken."

The others immediately ordered their drinks and were already having a blast.

Jeremy's face was flushed red and eyes glazed as he forced himself to listen to Shirley's fast-paced words, not understanding a single word she was saying. When he turned to Cricket, he found her staring across the bar to the entrance, which was blocked by a couple people. Thinking nothing of it, he turned away from an irritated Shirley and bumped shoulders with Cricket. "How you hanging in there, cowgirl? You can handle your drinkn?"

Cricket turned to Jeremy with a loopy smile and nodded rather slowly. "Ah'm guurd, ah can take c'err of m'self."

Her words slurred together where Jeremy couldn't even grasp a word of two from her.

She didn't listen to Jeremy as he said something about drinking water and walking to their motel in an hour or two. Cricket threw her head back and finished her drink, sighing rather loudly at her empty glass.

"Want another one?"

Her glazed eyes turned to the man leaning against the bar next to her.

"Ahn't yew rather cute," she smiled, her dimples flashing to the man.

The man smiled, showing his very white teeth before laughing. "I've been called several things before but never cute."

"There's ah first time fer everything," Cricket mentioned. "Ah'll take that drink, stranger."

"Embry Call," he introduced himself as he flagged down the bartender. His dark eyes looked into her own, dancing with mirth as she happily hugged the glass cup to her chest.

"Cricket," she merely said as she sipped at her refreshing drink.

Embry laughed, which didn't shock Cricket at all. When people heard her name, they tended to think for a minute, believing that she was lying until she was literally forced to show them her license. It wasn't everyday you heard a rather strange name like her own.

"So, Cricket," he started, leaning a bit towards her to a point where Cricket knew he was going to be asking for something. "Why don't you do me a little favor since I bought you that drink?" he asked, using the back of his index finger to rub against the length of her upper arm in a sort of seductive way.

"If yah wanna git sum, yer gonna have to get 'nuther girl!" she said, chuckling at his failed attempts of seduction.

"No, no, no!" he laughed. "Don't look now, but there's someone behind me, the one wearing the grey sweater with the sleeves torn off, that made a bet with me and he picked you as my victim."

"Whas' the bet?"

Instead of saying it right there and then, Embry leaned towards her, pushing his face into her curls before whispering rather lightly into her ear, "Just look over my shoulder and laugh."

When Cricket looked over his shoulder, she immediately picked out his friend who made the bet. She smirked a sassy grin, watching as his face dropped while the others he was with pounded his back from his lost bet. She began to giggle, face flushed, as Embry let out a rather impressive growl as he rubbed his face all over her very ticklish neck. Just as a show, she brought up her hand and gave the group a thumb up until her eyes met one of the men in the group.

And he was looking at her in livid anger.

"Aw'right, cowboy, ah think-"

Embry was pulled away viciously from her and thrown across the bar. The man, who had been glaring at her, turned to Embry and snarled something to Embry.

"Fuck, Paul, you could've at least given me a warning!" Embry said angrily.

The Paul fellow ignored Embry, sitting on the seat next to Cricket and glared at her. "Why'd you let him do that?" he all but snarled.

She blinked owlishly, her pale green eyes taking in the form of the man who had just stolen the playful Embry's seat.

He was…huge. His arms were beefy, muscular with all the right lines that would've made every woman in sight drool if it wasn't for his scary demeanor of at least six feet. His shoulder span was wide, preventing Cricket from looking over his shoulder to see if Embry was okay. And he towered over her like a castle that refused to crumble at the strongest winds.

His dark eyebrows slashed down his face, making it seem as if he was always angry, always in rage. And those brown eyes of his did nothing to lessen the fact that he was very, very upset with her.

Nostrils flared as the corner of his lip lifted upwards in a sneer.

The thrumming of his fingers on the bar caught her attention. His hands were huge, fingers long and lean; there were a few miniscule scars here and there, but it did nothing to deter the fact that his hands were very, very attractive to Cricket.

A man could do many, many things with those hands.

Cricket actually felt herself staring at this man and immediately ripped her fuzzy state of mind away from it. She looked up at him watching in confusion as suddenly his face expression eased from its darkened anger, as if her ogling him was a treasure to him. She frowned at him and leaned back. "Who 're yew?"

When he smiled, it seemed a bit threatening. His sharp canines glistened in the low lighting of the bar. "I'm Santa, baby." He chuckled darkly, leaning back as he patted his thighs. "Why don't you come and sit on Santa's lap?"

"Ah don't think so, mister. Yew got sum rattlesnake right there ready tah bite." Cricket said pointedly to his crotch.

"No, it just wants to slither in some nice," he said, leaning forward with his dark eyes fastened onto her own. "…wet, dark hole."

Her face flushed with red and she pulled away from him. "Ahhh…" she said, completely lost on the matter of his rather bold words.

Laughter erupting from behind this fellow caught her attention and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Is this 'nuther bet?"

Paul glanced over his shoulder and gave his pack a menacing look. The immature pups giggled, nudging each other while the older ones flashed a fang to provoke the temperamental beast. It was unfortunate at times like this all he wanted to do was phase and tackle them to teach a lesson. He turned back to his fiery imprint. "This is anything but a bet."

"Mhmmm," she said, taking the next fresh cup of alcohol from the generous bartender.

"What do you do?" Paul asked, turning his whole body so that he giving his entire attention to her.

Cricket arched a red brow at the man's interest and felt a little sass come into play. "Nunya."

He frowned. "Nunya?"

"None of yer goddamn biz," she snorted, sipping more of her drink.

The dominant wolf didn't take kindly towards her attitude. He leaned forward, his expression darkening as he growled. "It's gonna be my business especially when we're stuck for life." It didn't matter he let a word or two slip, or that his pack had perked at his words.

This was his imprint and he wasn't going to take a slap or two like Jared.

"Wha da hell is tha' suppose ta mean?" Cricket squinted at the dark man in disbelief. Her vision turned blurry, but that didn't mean she was going down like David and the Goliath. She could hold her drink, but that didn't mean she could drink a hell of a lot like some men.

It was then, Cricket actually noticed the man before her.

"Wha a're yew? Indian or sumthin'?" she asked, hiccupping.

Paul smirked at her rather adorable flushed freckled face. "Native American," he responded.

When confirmed, Cricket threw her head back and roared in laughter. It was then she realized what his intentions were in her drunken state. "Oh, ah get it! Yew wanna play wiff me, huh?"

"Only if we're naked," he said, leaning forward with a dark intent.

"Yew wanna play cowboys n' Indians, ey?" She shook her head from side to side, feeling her curls swinging around. "Thas' why yer pickin' on the southern girls, huh? Well, tough luck." Cricket nodded to the other girls from the tour over her shoulder. "There're more fer the pickin'! Yew a'int gettin' a bite of this cookie."

She took another gulp of her drink, watching as he peered over her shoulder to the gals surrounding the much-annoyed Jeremy. "I don't think they look as appealing as you naked," he simply said as if he was talking about the weather.

What really sent her over the edge was the hot look over. She shivered unintentionally, feeling the prickling and tingling sensation of hormonal overload working all over her body.

Cricket took another long gulp of her drink and slammed it on the counter. "W'ell, thass my cue tah leave!"

And just like that, Paul hooked his foot on her barstool and pulled her over to him till they were one inch apart from touching. "You won't be leaving tonight," he said softly, his eyes gazing at her parted lips with only one purpose.

The redhead gasped, looking at his thin, narrow lips with eyes the size of saucers. And just as he was about to bend down and close those three small inches, there was a woman standing at their elbows. "Woah!" Cricket said, pulling herself back like a slingshot.

The growl coming from Paul's throat did nothing to dislodge the girl from their side.

As much as she didn't want to be there, Leah Clearwater had no choice. She picked the smallest straw of the bunch and was forced to approach the two whose arousal was literally stifling the air.

When she cleared her throat, they hadn't heard her much to her discomfort.

Leah had no choice but to come close enough until they noticed her. "Paul, Sam wants us to start patrolling now," Leah hissed, glaring at the rather attractive redhead who arched a brow at her words.

"Whut are yew, sum ranger or a fire fighter?" the redhead asked.

"Something like that," Paul responded with a smirk. "I rather be the fire man to douse that scorching blaze between your—"

"Paul!" Leah said sharply, grasping Paul's arm by the bicep harshly. "We don't have time for your fuck buddies…" she said meaningfully as she glanced at the redhead only to look over said redhead's astonished face and watch as chocolate eyes looked straight at her.

It was like each one of them had magnets and the intensity of the pull was too strong to overcome. Leah released Paul's arm and walked slowly towards the blond man as the fluttering feeling within her chest made her actually smile in its purest form. "Hi," she said rather lamely to the confused Jeremy who responded with a hesitant greeting.

The annoying bitches surrounding her precious imprint were immediately pushed away viciously as she staked her claim.

Cricket turned and watched the russet-colored woman work her magic with Jeremy as she chugged down another drink. "Welp, thas in'terestin'."

"That is one hell of a story," Paul said quietly, watching Leah become a whole different woman before his eyes.

Cricket turned sharply to Paul and frowned adorably. "Ah want a story!"

Paul smirked and leaned back. "Well, hope on Papa Wolf's lap and I'll tell you a story," he said while patting his thighs. He didn't think his imprint would listen to his words until she clumsily started to do his bidding. He expelled a breath of hair when her very lovely bump sat rather hard on his lap, feeling the throbbing ache of pain start in his crotch.

"Isn't it Papa Bear?" Cricket asked.

Once he had himself controlled, Paul answered, "I'm a wolf, sugarlips."

She frowned. "Dun call me that."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Now…about that story," he started, wrapping his arm around her so that she was leaning against his chest much like a small child would. "There once was a man who wanted to do nothing else but worship a redhead's body from head to toe. Starting with her hair," his hand came up and gently caressed the fine tips of her hair. "…her cheeks," his lips brushed against her cheeks. "…her lips—"

"That ain't no story!" Cricket crowed in displeasure. "I want a real story! None of dis sex crap! Honestly! Whut kinda hell of a story is that?"

Damn, his seductions really needed to kick up a notch.

"A porn one," he couldn't help but say.

"Not fer me!" Cricket finished her drink and pointed at the empty glass to catch the bartender's attention. "Gimme one wiff pirates and dragons!"

"A pirate sailed the seven seas just to stick his dragon into a very attractive redhead's—"

"Enough!" she hollered.

Paul laughed, honestly laughed. He didn't catch his pack's amazement, as his whole attention was one the very tall woman who was sitting on his lap. "Alright, alright," he said, placing his hand on her curly head and pushing it to his shoulder till it was lying there. He turned his head into her ear and started whispering softly about the moon and the sky, the weeping stars and the cool breeze traveling against the harsh barrier of the wild.

Cricket began to nod off as she felt the waft of his breath against her cheek. His words tantalizingly played with her mind, throwing images of each letter until there was a story of a man and the sky.

I shouldn't be writing a new story at all. Oh goodness, haha. I already have so much to juggle but this one was literally bursting to be written.

Honestly, I don't know much about Twilight and don't really find myself liking it at all. I couldn't find anything good to read, so I reluctantly entered into the realm of Twilight in hopes of finding something good to read. I came across that I adore Paul's character and very much want to read more. But alas, there were only a few stories that fed my starving self and so I started to write a story with a Paul pairing in hopes to satisfy myself. If you would be so kind as to feed me some information about Twilight and the world of it, I would very much appreciate it! At the mean time, I'll be doing some research! (:

So, there you have Cricket! I know the dialogue might be tricky to read, but be patient, haha. I've been working on changing my works of dialogue (instead of the norm nowadays) and decided that she should be a Southerner. It does its trick!

If you know any great OC stories with any pairing, be a doll and leave a title and author ;D

If any questions, feel free to ask!

Enjoy.