Yet Another Honeymoon

By: J. A. Brightstar

Disclaimer: All named characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 1

I sighed with relief as Jasper and I exited the plane. "The pilot flew so slowly," I grumbled. "We could've run here faster than that stupid airplane."

Jasper smiled, and squeezed my hand. "Aren't we impatient," he teased. Despite the light tone he used, his eyes smoldered as they ran restlessly up and down my body. I brushed imaginary lint off of the black silk Chinese-style dress that I had designed myself.

We decided to walk to the nearby hotel, instead of trying to drive through the crowded streets of Hong Kong. Jasper put his arm around me, and I slid my hand into his back pocket. Despite our unusual pallor, we looked like a normal American tourist couple.

A sudden vision besieged me. Jasper and I on a bed, his hand slowly unzipping my dress, gliding across the skin on my back…

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. Although my eyes were seeing what was in front of me, my mind stayed focused on the scene that the vision had portrayed.

Then another, less pleasant vision swept through my mind's eye. Jasper, sinking his teeth into the throat of a small Asian girl, feeling the warmth of her blood glide across his throat…

I shook him sharply. "Jazz!" I said urgently. He looked down at me, his eyes slightly crazed. "Think about what's going to happen at the hotel tonight," I ordered him. Although the visions of us were very distracting, I could tolerate those more than I could tolerate the visions of him drinking a human's blood, draining them dry…

I shook my head to rid it of its morbid thoughts.

We finally arrived at our hotel. The clerk greeted us with heavily accented English. "Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Hale. So good to have you here. You are in the penthouse. Would you like a bellhop to help you with that bag, sir? No? Very good. Have a pleasant evening now."

Jasper and I stood in the empty elevator. I looked suspiciously at the camera in the corner. I was pretty sure that it was aimed directly at my face. I turned away to gaze at Jazz instead.

He looked down at me and smiled. "You're very…excited," he noted. He brushed his fingers lightly against my face.

"You think?" I asked, my voice slightly higher than usual. Anticipation made my stony skin extraordinarily sensitive, and I felt his light touch to my core.

Jasper and I barely made it through the door of our hotel room. I did my best to be careful with his shirt, but in the end, it ended up in strips on the floor.

I half expected my dress to end up the same way, but then I remembered my vision.

Sure enough, Jasper stood behind me, his breath brushing against the back of my neck. He slowly unzipped my dress, brushing his hands against the small of my back.

I gasped softly, and heard him laugh lightly.

I whirled around, crushing my mouth to his. He reeled back slightly, then caught himself. I ran my hands across his back, feeling him shudder slightly.

His left hand stroked up my side, while the other pressed me closer to him. We fell onto the bed, still kissing feverishly.

And thus our third honeymoon began.

Chapter 2

We were lying next to each other the next morning, staring at each other, when a sudden vision made me gasp quietly. Jasper, massacring a group of small children, all to get to the one whose blood cried out to him, singing a siren song…

"No!" I cried out. I sat up abruptly. I felt a strange burning in my eyes. Jasper wouldn't fail. Couldn't fail. Why here? Why now?

It made no sense. Jasper had managed to be around Bella, and had only tried to attack her once. He could restrain himself then. Why not now?

Bella…I suddenly realized why. Of course. The way Bella had smelled to Edward…that was how this Asian girl would smell to Jasper. "La tua cantante," I whispered.

"What?" Jasper asked me urgently, shaking me gently. "Alice, what did you see?"

I shook my head slowly. "Nothing. Just…children dying. It could have been prevented so easily…" I kept my voice from wobbling and betraying my half-truth.

Jasper's worried eyes stayed on my face. "That doesn't seem to have much to do with singers," he noted. I winced. I had forgotten about that.

"It was a choir," I lied quickly, avoiding his eyes. I prayed he wouldn't notice.

I looked up to see his eyes still on me. I smiled. Touching my lips lightly to his, I forced myself to relax. I would not let him succumb.

I felt his reluctance to let go of the question, and trailed my lips along his jaw. "Witch," he said, laughing. I smiled again.

We had managed to keep the bed intact the last night, but I was worried that with my anxiety, it wouldn't manage another round.

His chest was already bare. I ran my hands lightly across it. Even after sixty years, his smooth, perfect muscles never ceased to amaze me. I traced my hands in light circles on his stomach.

He caught my hands and looked at me with a dangerous look in his eyes. "Don't test me," he warned. I laughed.

"Or what?" I said, batting my eyelashes. I kissed his jaw, trailing my lips down the side of his neck, straying to his collarbone. His breathing hitched. "You'll torture me mercilessly?"

He snarled lightly, teasingly. "Of course," he countered. He suddenly flipped over, trapping me underneath him. I felt every smooth contour of his body against mine. He pressed his lips to my forehead. One arm snaked around my waist, and he sat up, so that I was perched on his lap. "I have my own ways of torture," he murmured.

He ran his hand from my shoulder down my waist, pausing there slightly before continuing to slide his hand down to my thigh. I shivered, though of course I wasn't cold.

Suddenly, Jasper and I stopped. We heard quick footsteps, and a throbbing heartbeat approaching.

And then the scent hit us.