Haven't we met?

Some kind of beautiful stranger...

You could be good for me...

I have a taste for danger.

-Madonna, Beautiful Stranger

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this song or the Twilight book series; they belong respectively to Madonna or Stephenie Meyer. No monetary benefits here!

Jasper Whitlock turned his collar up at the biting Pennsylvania cold with a Texan indignation. Philadelphia was a bustling city in which he could lose himself; the happy human crowds made him partially thankful for his empathy. He tried his best to avert his eyes all the same.

Those who caught a glimpse tended to cause trouble. And of that, Jasper had had a lifetime to spare. He did not much care for the conditions up here, but it was better than the territorial battles down South and the risk of revenge.

Maria.

Jasper sneered. A beautiful Southern belle, anything but to the ones who knew her best. A siren. Curves any mortal or immortal would envy. Shrewd to a sociopathic fault. A murderess who wore her crimes like sheriff badges. Because she had not carried them out herself.

Their kind were not known for their compassion to any creature alive or dead, let alone newborns. They were a notch above humans, walking rats with no tails to Maria. Jasper had been an infatuated fool. Her cruelty had always glared him in the face, as vivid and cold as her crimson eyes. How coincidental that Maria's gaze mirrored the bloodshed surrounding her.

Surrounding them both.

Vampiric life consumed him whole, and the results were catastrophic. She barely noticed over the course of their affair. Jasper's love for Maria would never be reciprocated. Control of the Texas feeding grounds reigned constantly over her thoughts. She killed her own flesh and blood for it. Jasper knew at some point, that defying her would breed the same consequence.

Peter and Charlotte's return extended beyond serendipity; it was a godsend if one believed in such things. Despite his unhappiness, Jasper shuddered to think of standing by Maria's side to this very day.

But leaving her left no distractions from the "gifts" she forced him to use.

When his prey became human... Jasper hated every pang of emotion in his victim. He could not bear to witness their draining energy, as blood filled and rejuvenated him.

He lost sleep from the child-like fear in their stares, seeping into his conscious mind. He despised what he was.

Tired could not articulate the young vampire's state. He was STUCK in the painful limbo of mind-reeling hunger, and shameful regret. He felt robbed of all joy.

What Jasper wanted was some damn coffee. It served a purpose in warming him and simulating fullness.

"Convenient," he muttered as he spotted a diner named Mayfair across the street.

Shuffling across the street between cars, Jasper pulled down his hat brim as he strode in. Smoke encompassed him when he crossed the threshold. As it was the middle of day, there were a plethora of booths from which to choose. Jasper took the closest one.

He settled into the vinyl seat with a familiar ease. The feel brought to mind his saddles from the War. A tall, lovely waitress approached him shortly after Jasper had gotten comfortable. She whipped a notepad from her apron, and began a fresh page while whistling softly. A frayed name tag on her pinstriped dress read 'Lana' in bold, red cursive.

"That won't be necessary, miss," the vampire interceded politely. "If I could just have a cup of coffee, please?"

Her keen green eyes sensed his hunger on sight. But human food was no substitute. Neither was she, since his appearance pleased her substantially. If 'Lana' only knew.

"Sure you don't want nothing else? We have angus burgers, bottomless fries, and sandwiches if you like cold cuts," she offered with a hand on her hip. "It's not much more…"

Jasper was glad to have met her in a restaurant, because even in the chaotic clash of aromas Lana smelled good.

"Just coffee," the vampire said with a quiet groan. His fangs threatened to bare themselves. Lana's brow furrowed but she hurried away.

As Jasper buried fingers into his hair, another's scrutiny crept into his awareness. He carefully looked around. There was little out of the ordinary apart from him. The few people there were concerned with food and banter.

So then, what was disrupting his calm? It was uncanny to feel so on edge, and that stated much with his manipulative ability.

"Who the hell…"

"Ahem."

There stood his very startled waitress, coffee in one hand and the tab in another. Jasper appraised her guiltily and tipped his hat.

"Sorry, miss. Just thought I saw someone," he said inconspicuously. But Lana was sharp, leaning in while placing down his tab and joe.

"Look again," she whispered, "because that girl at the bar has been eyeing you the minute you set foot inside."

The blonde vampire peered over her shoulder to the left, and indeed a pale, beautiful female occupied the first stool. She was speaking with the bartender.

"She's been there since my afternoon shift."

Jasper not once turned his head that way. No wonder he missed her. Sable hair framed her face in closely manicured waves. The pleats of her green shirtdress barely skimmed her knees, but dark pantyhose took care of the rest. Every once in a while, those golden eyes drifted over to him. He returned his sights to Lana.

"She was starin' at me? This entire time?"

"I can see why," the waitress said with a wink, followed with the non-verbal goad to 'Go get her'.

Jasper pressed change into Lana's hand hastily, assuring his thanks with a firm squeeze and returned smile (fangs hidden of course). He worked his way to where the mysterious girl was waiting. The coffee sat at the abandoned booth.

Who was she? Why had she been here, observant but saying nothing? What was her relationship to him? Had they met before?

No.

He would have remembered a face like hers. Angelic and haunted, the hint of a berry-lipped smile. No, Jasper did not at all know her. But every fiber of his being yearned to.

And that intention permeated the space between them as she let amber eyes communicate for her. 'I know you.'

Words were broken thoughts floating in Jasper's head, leaving his lips in a manner much unlike his usual eloquence.

"H-hello, miss. Do I…have we been introduced?" He extended a hand, and she shook it before resuming her Bloody Mary. Her energy was something strange.

"What can I get you, sonny?" The bartender was a kind, older man.

Jasper politely declined the offer.

"Hello there." She had a voice like honey and rum on rocks. It held a faintly Mississippian twang Jasper knew from the Civil War years.

"Not formally introduced, no…" She had spoken as if entrusting a secret, which perplexed Jasper further.

His brow rose quizzically at her vagueness. "Then—"

"I've never introduced myself. But I know who you are, Jasper," she stated with a sip of her cocktail.

The stranger crossed one leg over the other. Jasper stopped in his tracks at the mention of his name, despite the fact (and he was quite sure) that it had never been shared. Those dainty pink lips became a triumphant smile. She sure knew how to get his attention.

She motioned to the adjacent seat which Jasper took wordlessly. He was far too dazed to follow his instinct to leave.

If I'm smart, then I'll run away

"I also know what you are. So you can unwind a little more."

It was difficult to do so when his true nature was knowledge to someone he knew nothing about.

But I'm not so I guess I'll stay

Heaven forbid, I take my chance on a beautiful stranger

Adjusting her mulberry scarf, she flashed Jasper her own set and concealed them reflexively. "I am the same, but with one huge difference."

The Southerner glimpsed his angered expression in her large, leveled gaze. If she had wanted to expose him, she had the chance.

The vampire set down the finished glass tentatively, her golden eyes not quite meeting his crimson ones.

"Jasper, I...don't drink from humans," she murmured, but supernatural senses made her words ring clear as day. "You don't have to, to survive."

"You don't."

She shook her head gently, and had the grace to look down as he felt his head reeling. Guilt was hitting his heart in dreadful spikes.

"There's another way to feed?" Jasper asked hoarsely. "How can that be?"

"Shh, shh, I know. That's why I came. That's why I had to find you." She moved swiftly to him, her chiffon grazing his leg.

I looked into your eyes

And my world came crumbling down

Jasper let her nearer, further anguished by his bloody crimes and the violent present. "Forgive my BLUNTNESS, miss, but why are you here bothering to tell me this? What's my fate to you?"

Some unknown force coerced him to desire her answer.

"You are the one. The man I've been waiting for…"

All discretion flung far away, Jasper's ruby eyes flared with intrigue.

"You…?"

She took a deep breath, and folded her hands on the marble counter.

"Dreamt about today, Jasper Whitlock. I've known your face for half my life. Goodness knows you weren't easy to find. But I kept on searching. You needed finding," she admitted fiercely. "I know I'm a stranger now, but you haven't seen what I did."

"You've seen me."

"I have."

"Us."

She bit her lip apprehensively, and nodded twice. He regarded her warily, this lovely mystery with the power to see. Premonition was a talent he had yet to come across. But Jasper knew better than to deny it. Like it or not, he did need someone to find him. Hell, Jasper had to remember who and where 'he' was.

"How much have you seen?" Jasper felt somewhat reluctant to ask.

She smirked. "The future we have."

He met her adoring eyes. What could he give her in return?

"This can't happen," Jasper protested quietly.

She shook her head defiantly. "It already is. This isn't an end, it's a different page."

To know you is to love you

"Miss. I'm...I've done evil things for the sake of love. Things that don't prompt forgivin'." He kept his words low. Out of remorse or fear, he was unsure.

"For her," she replied softly. "I know. I already have. And you will never do them to me." It was an acknowledgement as well as a warning.

Her gaze held a sensual clairvoyance Jasper could hardly mind.

"And you still want this. Want me?"

That smile was bright and affectionate, fangs behind pouting carnation petals.

To love you is to be part of you

"Yes. Yes, Jasper, I do. Kept me waiting long enough."

He stuttered a bashful "I'm sorry, ma'am'."

She stood, her petite height in stark contrast to his taller stature.

I pay for you with tears, and swallow all my pride

Jasper rummaged through his vest's pocket to leave several coins for her cocktail.

In her golden eyes there lay trust, promise. Warmth.

"Southern gentleman." The bartender chuckled at his companion's jibe.

She effortlessly sidled into step beside him. "Thank you, Jasper."

He offered her his arm, regarding her with mounting respect. "Miss, given the circumstances, I believe the thanks should be mine."

She bit her lip again, and Jasper would remember the quirk later. "It's Alice."

And as they departed to enter the busy human world, Jasper Whitlock found himself dumbfounded. It was hard to recall the prior century defining his immortal life. Harder still to acknowledge the possibility to change. But Alice inspired him to make one. And over time, they both did.

For the better. Jasper would never comprehend her reasons for "seeing" him, although he always asked. To Alice's credit the replies were never constant. He grew to love her as she haughtily predicted (several months after their first encounter). On that early spring day, he felt the seed of something ancient blossom within him. It had not left since.

Beautiful stranger...

- The End -