A/N: Sorry it took so long, once again! There's a better explanation in "Author's Note II" in my story LDF. If you don't want excuses, just enjoy.

Disclaimer: The song mentioned is Thunderdome by The Stevedores. The plot belongs to me. The characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.


Thunderdome

We stumbled down the stairs in a weird, but somehow giddy air. It was awkward after that heavy conversation. I hate heaviness. I hate dampening the mood not that it had ever been lifted in my parent's house… The giddiness was probably just on my end, though—I was holding her hand.

She played the fucking piano like Liberace. I was untrusting because of the shitty relationship I got out of last. We both learned something today.

When we entered the dining room, everyone was seated, but chatting amongst themselves. The first thing I noticed: there weren't two empty seats next to each other. And so it begins.

There was one seat nestled between Maria and her sister Lucy. Also on that end were my parents and Maria's parents. The second open seat was between Rosalie and my Aunt Maggie. Emmett was on that end, too, with my grandparents, who chose to show up, eat the food, and leave without having more than a one-word conversation with anyone.

If Peter were with me, I'd make him sit with Maria, but this was different.

"Nice of you to join us, Jasper," my mother called from her seat, not making a move to get up. "Please take a seat so we can get started."

Biting back an argument, I just led Alice to the seat by Rosalie. "She claims she didn't know you were bringing a guest," Rose explained quietly.

I pulled out Alice's chair and smiled bitterly. "I bring someone with me every year."

"We'll keep Miss. Alice company down on this end," Maggie leaned over to lighten the situation.

"Oh, no, have Alice come sit by me!" Maria called from the other end of the table.

"Yes, I would love to speak with the talented Miss. Alice," my mother smiled the same devilish smile that Maria had plastered on her face.

"Actually, mom, I have a few wedding things I wanted to discuss with her," Rosalie butted in, trying to save me.

I stood there like an idiot, not knowing what excuse I could use. Great.

"Oh, Rosalie, talk to her after dinner. None of us have had the privilege to speak with the infamous Alice."

God, I fucking hate condescending titles.

I squeezed Alice's hand. I was mumbling incantations in my head to possibly—hopefully—turn my mother mute and perhaps Maria's head would explode in the process. Nah, too messy, how about she just disappears? Better.

"I'll move, Jas—" Lucy began, but Maria kicked her under the table.

"You can't just move everyone around," mom interrupted so I couldn't take the offer. "It's not our fault you two came to the table late."

"Lucy, move," Mr. Moreno spat.

Vincent Moreno was some piece of work. A little background for the viewers at home: he wanted my father's company, obviously, but he knew he wouldn't get it. Even after Maria and I were getting serious—or I was getting serious—he was in some delusional state that if I did take the company, I wouldn't be able to handle it and Maria would convince me to hand it off to him.

The hidden motive there was just to get Maria and I to sit next to each other and possibly rip Alice apart in the process. That, I wouldn't let happen, but regardless...

Lucy silently drew up from her chair and we shuffled to our seats, sitting down in silence. Alice took the seat next to Maria, even though I knew that was a mistake. I went to the other side to sit next to the head of the table—where my father sat.

As soon as we sat down, the doors from the kitchen swung open and the first course was ushered out: the same fucking soup as every year. It was pretty much just broth, but you were expected to have at least a spoonful.

I remember I was stuck at the table finishing all the soup because I had made some snide remark about the chef. Mom made me sit at the table and finish all the soup on the stove. Needless to say, I slept in the dining room that night.

Moving on from my soup anecdote…

"So, Alice," Maria began, catching Alice with a spoon in her mouth. Jesus, could this girl get any cuter? Oh Christ, I'm fucking whipped.

"You're a wedding guru?" here we go.

Alice cleared her throat and shook her head with an always-polite smile. "I'm an event planner," she corrected. "I normally do weddings, though."

"Have you been married before?" Maria pressed.

What the fuck kind of question is—take a deep breath… I decided to keep my mouth shut for this one. Maybe we could get through dinner without an argument.

"Uh, no."

"How do you know so much about weddings, then?"

"Jasper, I hear you're still in that band of yours," Mrs. Moreno butt in so I couldn't hear Alice's response. "Oh my, what was the name of it again?"

"Actually we uh—still don't have a name."

"Oh."

Both conversations died off.

Silence ensued.

Well this is fucking awkward.

The next course came out: standard salad with a few unidentified items that were questionably edible. I'll get some Jack-In-The-Box on the way home.

That's it. I leaned back in my chair and reached out.

"Can I get something a little stronger than water?" I asked a hopeful member of the wait staff.

"Jasper," my mother interrupted with a humorless chuckle. "You know we don't just leave a bottle of wine at the dinner table. If you want a drink of substance, wait until after dinner."

A drink of substance… Welcome home, Jasper.

"It's the holidays, mamma, why not celebrate a little, hmm?" I pulled on a little charm, smiling wide and motioning to the guests around us. She didn't buy it though and ignored me to stab a cucumber.

"What if someone makes a toast?" I pressed on.

"A toast?" she questioned, looking up.

"A toast," I agreed and Alice turned her face straight down at her plate to hide the smirk. Got 'cha, doe eyes. I got you.

"Are you going to make a toast?" mom asked incredulously. Nice big words, Jasper. Back to school, back to school, to show my daddy I'm—

"I wasn't, no," I confessed and I got a few chuckles and scoffs from the table. "But if, in the spur of the moment, I happen to want to toast, we'll have to wait for someone to get a bottle of wine, for all the wine to be poured, and by then the reason behind the toast is lost. You can't toast with water!"

"Alright, alright," YES! She motioned for someone behind me to bring out a bottle of wine. She gave in. Maybe I can get through tonight all right after all.

"How is that cassette tape shop going, Jasper?" Mr. Moreno asked.

Remember the whole "Maybe I can get through tonight after all" thing? Yeah, that from two seconds ago! I spoke too soon.

"It's, uh—"

"It's records, daddy," Maria interrupted. "And CDs, too, right?" she looked past Alice to try to make eye contact with me. Think again, bitch.

"A couple CDs, mostly records, though. And it's going good, especially around the holidays. It's nice to know there are still a few—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt…" Mrs. Moreno made her vocal appearance for the night! Everyone, everyone! Golf claps. "But how did you two meet each other?" she motioned between Alice and I as someone popped a cork behind us.

"Ah, yes, I've yet to hear this story!" Maria grinned.

"You know, Jasper didn't even tell me he was bringing a guest tonight, let alone a young woman." Thanks, mom, but I invite someone every fucking year.

Alice glanced over at me to see who was going to take this question.

"A mutual friend introduced us," Alice said, turning back to look at everyone.

"Was it that rude, intoxicated boy, Phillip?" mom asked, concerned.

Rosalie choked back laughter at the other end of the table. I bit the inside of my cheek. I would deal with her later.

"No, it wasn't Peter," I corrected.

"Who was it?" Maria asked.

"Bella Swan," Alice replied. I cringed and waited a beat before it all started.

"The poorly dressed one?"

"That girl from college?"

"You know, I thought you had dated her for a while, Jasper."

That last one wasn't a lie. We went on one date and tried, but it was like kissing your sister. We both ended up laughing about it later.

"Where did you two meet?" Lucy piped up from her insecure bubble. She didn't make eye contact, but everyone heard the question and was waiting for the answer.

Fuck, should we lie?

Oh, I met her when I was escorting "Phillip's" drunk ass out of the bar the night I snuck out of the house to go play a gig.

"Aw, guys, don't be shy," Rosalie called from the other end of the table. "Alice told me the story the other day when she was showing me the new venue for my wedding." She did?

"She did?" I asked, looking at Alice, who was blushing and avoided eyes contact with me to glare at Rosalie.

"Hush up, baby bro," Rose scolded, clearing her throat dramatically before beginning. "It was at one of the band's shows. Their eyes met across a smoke-filled bar; it was like in the movies." That was a short story… and kind of cute.

But the cuteness was short-lived and the bullshit continued.

"Rosalie, dear, it's rude to raise your voice at the table," mom replied as if she hadn't heard the story or chose not to.

"You met at a bar?" Maria asked with a smirk. "How—quaint."

"Just like you and James," I mumbled,

"What?"

"Jasper, it's rude to mumble." Thanks, mom.

I refrained from saying anything, leaning back in my chair as one member of mom's wait staff took my plate and another poured me a glass of wine.

"So, Alice," my father spoke and immediately I turned to defense mode.

Maria and my mother were there to humiliate her and made snide comments that were never rude, but were condescending and would slowly break her. My father—well, you'll see.

"What about your parents? What does your father do for a living?" Fuck. Of course this is the question he asks.

"My adoptive father is a doctor in Alaska," Alice said and I took a long gulp of the wine. Here we go… After a beat of silence, she continued, "I mean, he's moved around quite a bit, but they just settled in—"

"Did you say adoptive—" Maria began.

The recognition on Alice's face was unmistakable. She said the wrong thing. There was no going back. Here was what I had been warning her about from the beginning.

"Where are you biological parents?" mom asked, sounding more accusing than sympathetic.

"They passed away when I was very young," Alice tried to back-pedal.

"I am very sorry, dear," Aunt Maggie said from the end of the table. Alice looked over to thank her, but didn't exactly have the chance.

Maria casually knocked her glass of wine over and it fell toward Alice, pouring down the front of her dress and pooling in her lap, staining her dress. Alice stood up quickly, knocking the chair down in the process. That tripped the waiter behind her, who dropped the next course, sending mashed potatoes splattering on the hardwood floors and the roast sliding down the hall.

Alice froze, looking around the table. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach and there was a lump in my throat the size of the universe.

"I'm sorry," Alice choked back any bit of emotion as she fled the room. Rosalie immediately got up and followed her out of the room. I moved to get up as well, but—

"Jasper, sit down," my jackass of a fucking father ordered and I did.

I picked up my napkin from my lap and set it on the table. I crossed my arms and leaned back, staring at him. Go ahead, fucker, lay it on me.

"Is this a joke?"

"Is what a joke, daddy?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.

"You bring a girl home to meet your family—" mom began, but my father cut her off.

"Did you pick some girl up in a bar and bring her here to shock us?"

"Oh, for the love of—" I trailed off.

"She doesn't have a successful job, any stable home, or parents," so because she's an orphan you don't like her or is it because she's not Maria Moreno?

"You met her in a bar, for Christ's sakes!" He began to raise his voice and that was my cue to buck back… or not.

"She's not your type, Jasper," my mother added. I heard the front door slam and guessed that was Rosalie taking Alice out of the house.

Since when are you my fucking mother and know my type? I've never had a type except one-night stands throughout college and the past year since Maria cheated on my sorry sold-out ass. Once again, I kept my mouth shut.

"You've dated more successful young women, Jasper, and that's what you need in your life; someone to stand by you and someone who knows when to take a step back from their career to—"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm going to go," I said, getting up from the table.

"Jasper, sit down now!"

"Merry Christmas. Happy Chanukah. Happy Kwanza. Happy Holidays. Happy New Year," I continued, pausing to finish off the glass of wine.

"We still have to discuss this," mom begged.

"Any other holidays I'm forgetting?"

"God damn it, Jasper," my father smashed his fist on the table, rattling all the china dishes on the table. "When will you grow up?"

I picked up my glass of wine and raised my glass. "I would like to make a toast," I said with a cheeky grin.

"Jasper, put the glass down," mom pleaded halfheartedly.

"Here's to my wonderful parents who have just humiliated the girl I love."

Did I just say love? Did I have too much to drink? Nah…

"Merry Fucking Christmas." I downed the glass and tossed it onto the table before walking out of the room.

I walked to the foyer, grabbing my coat from the closet and grabbed Alice's too. Slamming the front door I jogged down the steps of the porch and down the path to the garage.

I saw Alice sitting on the hood of the Mercedes and Rosalie leaning against it next to her. Rose was holding her hand and talking quietly. Alice was looking down in her lap, avoiding her gaze. She had kicked her heels off and they were haphazardly tossed on the pavement. They both looked up when they heard me approach and then Alice immediately looked back in her lap.

I hesitated, keeping my distance for a minute as Rosalie squeezed her hand and leaned off the hood of the car. She walked up to me first with sympathetic eyes—thought I'd ever see that.

"I convinced her not to get a cab home," Rosalie mumbled.

"Thank you." She smiled half-heartedly and made her way back up the path. I took a minute or so before I approached the car. I leaned down and grabbed her heels, dangling them on my two fingertips.

"You okay?"

She nodded. For the little that I've known Alice, she has never been silent.

"You want to go home?"

Again, she nodded. I reached out my hand and she took it to lean against me as she hopped off the hood of the car. She took her heels from my hand and walked barefoot. I opened the passenger door for her and shut it behind her.

When I got in the car and started the engine, she laughed bitterly. I looked over and she held up the bottle of champagne she had brought with her to make a good impression—though that was obviously hopeless.

Still, she didn't speak, so I just smirked and reversed out of the driveway.

The entire drive was silent. It was eating me alive and I struggled to think of something to say. In the beginning I apologized, but she just shook her head and gazed out the window. I couldn't tell if she was mad at me or just not in the mood to—whatever it was I let her work it out in her head, though I hated not knowing what was going on in there.

I pulled up in front of her apartment and she leaned forward to slip on her heels. She dug into her coat pocket to find her keys and hugged her coat over her chest, hiding the stain from the wine. She hesitated and sat there for a minute, looking out the window. Then she finally met my gaze and I could see her red puffy eyes. Fuck…

"Do you uh—do you want to come up and have a drink?" she held out the bottle of champagne and smiled weakly. I turned off the engine, getting out of the car and holding the door open the rest of the way, seeing as she still ignored my need to be a gentleman and opened it herself.

"You don't have to hold doors open for me," she said with a smile, taking two steps in her heels before taking them off and holding them instead. I took the champagne bottle from her.

I ignored her and after shutting the door to the car, I went and opened the front door of the apartment building as well. So long as she was talking, I'm good. We took the elevator to soothe her aching feet—sarcasm; we were both too lazy.

She opened the door to the apartment she shared with Bella, walking inside and holding the door open for me with an adorable smile.

"I'm just going to change out of this," she motioned to the huge stain and curtsied before leaving the room.

I wandered into the kitchenette. I remember Bella having me put some champagne glasses on top of the cabinet, not realizing that it was too high for her to reach without standing on the countertop. So I reached up and grabbed two glasses.

The apartment seemed different from the last time I was in it… I could see the quirky things Alice added, probably because she was sickened by the lack of decorations. There was a cat clock on the wall; fake dead flowers pinned up on the wall with lace binding the bouquet. The couch was reupholstered? Okay, that might not have been Alice; I just haven't been here in a long ass time.

There was a knit blanket on the ottoman and a tray on top of that. I put the two glasses and bottle of champagne on the tray before continuing my snoop.

There were a few paintings on the wall; one caught my eye. It was a watercolor landscape of Canon Beach, the waves crashing up against the huge rocks. When I looked further, a scrawled signature spelt out "A. Cullen" in graceful script, where the 'A' and 'C' intertwined.

"Oh good, you got the glasses," she said from behind me.

"You paint?" I asked, turning around and I wish I hadn't—in a good way, of course; always in a good way.

She was dressed in tight black yoga pants with an oversized cream-colors sweatshirt and adorable fuzzy lamb slippers. Her hair was tousled in a perfect and precise mess. She blushed and walked over to the painting I was standing in front of, while apologizing for her outfit.

"Hope you don't mind I'm in pajamas," she giggled and crossed her arms, her hands barely making it through the sleeves as she bit her lip, then put her nail in between her teeth critically. "I dabble in everything. For this one I just had free time and was at the beach, so I went to some small art shop in the town and got some watercolors. The man working there taught me a few pointers."

As I stared at the painting, getting lost in the perfectly melted colors on the canvas, I felt her tug at my coat. I blinked out of my reverie and took off my coat; she hung it on the coat rack at the door.

"Do you know how to pop the cork off that thing?" she asked with a giggle. "I always manage to get some of the cork in the bottle."

Before she could say anymore, a loud pop echoed in the room and she slid over, eagerly holding out a glass to collect the foam that spilled over.

"Madam," I bowed, pouring her a glass.

"Thank you, kind sir," she curtsied as she swung back the small glass.

"You are quite welcome." I poured myself a glass and downed it in one gulp. We both sat on the couch, pouring each other glasses. About ten minutes into this routine, Alice just grabbed the bottle and took a long chug.

When she finally separated herself from the bottle, she hiccupped and giggled. "What else we got?" she asked, going into the kitchen and rummaging through cabinets and the refrigerator.

Part of it worried me that she wanted to drink so much after a night with my parents, but fuck it! The feeling is mutual and I'm here with her. I'm not fucking psychologist; I'm not going to ask her to talk about her feelings.

I picked up the bottle of champagne and pouted, turning it over. Goddamn, she finished the bottle.

"Ah-ha!" she cheered from the next room. She walked back into the room, slipping and sliding with her slippers, and hopped back on the couch. She held out a bottle Jack Daniels and I drooled.

Doe eyes fucking liked whiskey.

She put down a bottle of Jack Daniels, then a bottle of Smirnoff, and finally a bottle of Baileys. I raised my eyebrow at the last one and she hiccupped again. She was already tipsy. Well doe eyes was fucking tiny, so I guess it didn't take much to get her hammered.

"For dessert," she explained.

"Ah."

"A toast!" she held up both the Jack Daniels and the Smirnoff. I grabbed the Smirnoff smartly; don't want her to get too bad.

I held up my bottle and smirked. "To what?"

"To—uh, to—ah, shit, I had something and I forgot," she giggled.

I smirked and pursed my lips trying to think of something to toast.

"… I got nothing," she pouted.

"Screw it, take the drink!"

"So here's to all the ties we've tied and those we've tied too tight we'll set aside. Tonight we toast our enemies and friends and strangers and families. Tonight we drink to gratitude." -The Stevedores


A/N: The end was kind of rushed, but I got excited. I actually know how I'm continuing this story (for once).

QUESTIONS FOR THE REVIEWS: How do you think this will pan out? Will Alice and Jasper ever fucking kiss? How drunk will they get? You hoping for a drunken sex fest? Naughty, readers!

Thanks for all the support. You are all amazing.

OH! I almost forgot, sunray16 made me a banner for this story! It's on my author page! Check it out and send her some love!

Thank you again and as always, I'd love to read your feedback!