Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. Aside from a few obvious parallels to the Twilight universe, this plot belongs to me.
'Half a nymph with glancing eyes and fair cheeks, and half again a huge snake, great and awful, with speckled skin.' Hesiod, Theogony on Project Perseus
Chapter 10
Staring at herself in the mirror in the changing booth, Bella was surprised to find that she actually liked what she was seeing. The skirt swirled prettily when she swayed her hips.
But Bella didn't want to leave the changing booth. She felt awkward in the dress—like it didn't belong on her. And she didn't want to have to put up with Alice's reaction when she caught a glimpse of Bella in the outfit.
Why couldn't Alice just leave things alone?
Of course, Alice was the reason that Bella was even trying the dress on.
For days, Alice had been leaving voicemails begging Bella to come down to her boutique. In the end, Bella had decided that it might actually be a good thing to see Alice one-on-one. Despite Bella's promise to Edward, she still hadn't decided whether she wanted to see any of the Cullens again.
On the one hand, Bella felt like it was in her best interests to cut them all off.
On the other hand, part of Bella—a part that she despised—actually missed Alice.
She kept going around and around in circles, trying to decide what to do.
In the end, she decided to see Alice on her own. If it didn't go well, then Bella would be fully justified in forgetting the Cullens for good. If it went well, then—
Alice had been so excited to see Bella coming through the door of the boutique that she'd actually clapped her hands. Clapped her hands with glee.
And for a minute, Bella almost thought that it might not be that bad, catching up with Alice.
But then, looking around the boutique, Bella began to feel uneasy. She was, once again, dressed in thrift shop chic, and the cheapest top on sale cost a hundred dollars.
Bella's sense of trepidation was by no means allayed by the realization that Rosalie was also there. Bella had nothing against Rosalie, but she couldn't help feeling a little intimidated by someone so beautiful.
Then Alice pulled out the dark blue stretch dress.
Despite Bella's best efforts, Alice wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. So Bella tried the dress on, refusing to look at the price tag.
And, unfortunately, she liked the way it looked on her. She really liked it.
But it probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. And her dingy bra straps were exposed by the cut of the sleeves, while the clingy fabric showed just how cheap her underwear was (underwear, not panties, as the latter, in Bella's opinion, should cost more than three dollars each).
Bella pulled the dress off and put her clothes back on.
"What's wrong?" Alice pouted when Bella came out of the booth. "Doesn't it fit?"
"It fits just fine," Bella said, returning the dress to the rack and stepping away resolutely. She wasn't trying on anything else.
"Don't you like it?"
"I like it."
"Then what's the problem?"
Wasn't it obvious? "I don't have the right lingerie." Bella said, as if a strapless bra was the only thing standing between her and a dress that probably cost a couple of hundred dollars.
Alice perked right up. "We can take care of that." She grabbed Bella's hand and started to drag her away.
Bella looked around wildly for Rosalie, desperate for help. But Rosalie had disappeared into one of the changing booths, perhaps never to be seen again.
Alice halted in front of a wall of panties and started to pull down a thong.
Bella stopped her. "Alice, that costs more than what I spend on groceries in a week." Rolling her eyes, Bella tried to hand the dress back to Alice. "Not to mention this dress. I can't afford it."
"Oh, relax Bella," Alice giggled. "I know that."
A surge of anger shot through Bella. Was Alice just fucking with her? Bella remembered again how Alice had thrown her away, all of those years ago.
"These are gifts," Alice said. "Just remember, when they ask you who you're wearing: 'Alice Cullen.'"
Bella's annoyance gave way to reluctance. She didn't want to take a gift from Alice.
Not wanting to have to deal with that issue, Bella deflected. "You designed the dress?"
Alice rolled her eyes. "Duh. Why'd you think you're here?"
I don't know. Why don't you tell me? Bella thought ruefully. Was this really the Alice she'd become friends with all of those years ago?
The fickle little creature standing before Bella was certainly more than a little reminiscent of the Alice who'd tossed Bella away so easily.
But she thinks she's being nice, Bella told herself. And she let Alice push her back into a changing booth with the dress, a strapless bra and a thong.
Am I really going to do this? Bella asked herself as she began disrobing again. Play dress up like we're kids again?
When they were young, Bella was so desperate for friendship that she would have done almost anything to make Alice like her. A fucking pet. Back then Bella let Alice dress her up all of the time, at least behind closed doors. In public, Bella refused to wear anything that would draw any attention. Alice, on the contrary, was always garnering attention with her outlandish getups, though more often than not, the attention was unwanted, Alice's tastes being a little too outré for most. It wasn't until Bella's mother came to town that Alice suddenly became so much more popular.
When Bella emerged from the dressing room, she found Rosalie studying herself in a mirror, an exotic leather bustier lending Rosalie an air of fierceness.
"Like an Amazon warrior princess," Alice complimented Rosalie.
"The Amazons cut off their left breasts," Bella said, without thinking. "So that they could pull the strings on their bows."
"You're so weird," Alice said, handing Bella a pair of shoes.
"I don't wear heels," Bella told her, wondering what had possessed her to make that remark about the Amazons.
"But you would look better in heels. The height would make your legs seem so much thinner."
Bella didn't like the implication that she looked overweight, but she held her tongue, only to feel Alice tugging on a lock.
"And you should get a cut," Alice said.
"I like my hair," Bella said, because it was true.
Alice nodded. "But you could just try something new. Like wearing make-up. You could be so pretty."
What Bella heard was: You could seem thin. You could be pretty.
"Alice, be nice," Rosalie chided.
Alice laughed. "If you can't count on a friend to tell you the truth, who can you count on?"
A friend? Was Alice being a friend when she turned on Bella all of those years ago?
"Bella, you're not upset are you?" Alice asked.
"I'm fine," Bella lied, because Alice had no right to know that Bella actually gave a fuck what Alice thought about anything.
Alice seemed to buy the lie—because she's a narcissistic vapid bitch, Bella thought.
Rosalie seemed less convinced.
Nevertheless, the three of them headed to a café down the street for lunch, as if they were actually friends.
Alice spent most of the lunch filling Rosalie in on stories about the good ole days, when she and Bella were still teenagers in Forks. Of course, Alice conveniently left out any mention of their falling out. And, as lunch wrapped up, Bella couldn't help wondering if Alice had any intention of addressing it, ever.
At no point had either of them said as much as a word about just why they were no longer friends. Both of them had stuck to gushing nonsensically about how good it was to get back in touch and how excited they were to be seeing each other again.
Perhaps that was for the best. What was the point of reopening old wounds? It wasn't as if Bella wanted an apology—she didn't know what she'd do if Alice actually tried to apologize—but Alice's blasé attitude, as if the two of them had simply fallen out of touch and nothing more, was a little hard to take. Then Bella reminded herself that Alice had in fact just given her a dress and undergarments. Bella ought to feel grateful.
Except that Bella couldn't help wondering if Alice's generosity was only fueled by the fear of being seen with someone wearing thrift shop chic.
Bella had put that thought out of mind as soon as Alice suggested the café for lunch—it was so very low brow.
But as the two of them were walking out of the café after lunch—Rosalie having already headed back to the office—Alice linked arms with Bella and said, "You know, I only mentioned this place because I wanted you to feel comfortable, but it was much better than I expected."
And it was like a kick in the gut.
Bella knew that she was probably being overly sensitive. If it anyone else had said something like that, Bella would have been grateful that they were taking into consideration the fact that Bella couldn't really afford the finest fare.
But it was Alice, and to Bella it sounded like Alice was saying, yet again, that Bella wasn't good enough, even dressed up as she was.
And to think that Bella had been feeling guilty about agreeing to her fairy godmother's proposition to take advantage of Alice. Now—
Fuck Alice.
Bella suddenly stopped walking.
"You know what Alice? Fuck you."
"What?" Alice gaped at her.
"I don't need your fucking charity. I'm fine just the way I am. I like myself. But I won't like myself anymore if I condescend to put up with a conniving little bitch like you."
Alice just stared back at her.
Bella laughed. "You haven't changed at all, have you? And I'm sorry, but the fact is, you're not good enough for me. So take your cheap ass dress and your crappy lingerie, and shove it up your ass."
Bella turned, heading for the nearest shop so that she could use the restroom and change.
"Wait," Alice pled, grabbing onto Bella's arm.
"Get the fuck off of me," Bella snapped.
Their argument was drawing the attention of passersby but Bella didn't give a damn. She'd spent her entire senior year being the center of attention—practically the whole student body mocking her and insulting her for months on end. She couldn't care less about the three or four people who'd stopped to stare at her and Alice.
"I didn't mean to put you down," Alice said.
"Right."
"I just—I wanted to do something nice for you."
"So you spent the afternoon insulting me? And then telling Rosalie all of these bullshit stories about how we were the best of friends? Why didn't you tell her about the time you wrote 'whore' on my locker at school?"
Alice blanched.
"Yeah, you thought I didn't know it was you, did you? I saw the whole fucking thing, you bitch."
To Bella's complete and utter annoyance, tears actually started trailing from Alice's eyes. Like Bella was supposed to feel sorry for Alice.
"Bella, you have to understand—it was horrible for me back then."
"Oh, I understand. I was right there," Bella reminded her.
"I mean—they were so mean to me. All of the time."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Bella couldn't believe that Alice was trying to make herself out as the victim.
"I just couldn't take it anymore."
"They were mean to me, too, Alice. I fucking stood up for you."
"But then," Alice's eyes dropped. "But then everything with your mom happened and it got so much worse. It wasn't just you—they were calling me names, too, for being your friend."
A wave of nausea passed over Bella. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "So you're telling me—" Bella's voice cracked as her eyes began to stung. Don't you cry in front of Alice! she told herself. "It's my fault? It's my fault that you turned on me?"
"No!" Alice's horrified gaze met Bella's eyes again. "Of course not! But, I was selfish. I was a bitch. You're right. I should have stood by you. I just—" Alice broke off, putting her face into her hands.
Bella wanted to scream at Alice. How dare she—
"I'm sorry, Bella," Alice said, her face in her hands. "I don't like who I became when I did that to you. I don't like who I was at all. Sometimes, I still don't like myself."
"Then fucking change!" Bella couldn't believe that Alice was pulling this shit.
"What?" Alice dropped her hands.
"If you don't like yourself, don't be that fucking person!" Bella felt like shaking Alice.
"It's not always that easy."
"Of course, it is. You're not a fucking automaton. You make your own decisions."
Alice shook her head, dashing the tears from her cheeks. Then, noticing that they were being watched, Alice glared at the eavesdroppers before looking back at Bella and dropping her voice to almost a whisper. "They were calling me a 'whore,' too. I told them to fuck off, and they asked if I thought it was alright—" Alice broke off again. "They asked me if I thought it was alright that your mother—that she did what she did. And I said 'no.' I said 'she's a whore.' And Bella, you thought so too! You thought she was a whore! You hated your mother! You hated her for what she did! So I said that I thought she was a 'whore,' and they said that I had to prove it. I told them that it wasn't your fault, that you weren't like your mother. And they started in on me again."
When Bella replied, her voice had dropped as well, but it was laced with venom. "Boo hoo, Alice. I feel so fucking sorry for you. Thank God you were able to get them off your back at last by turning on me."
"It wasn't like that!"
"What was it like then? Tell me how you turn on your own best friend?"
"They were saying that Edward was one of them. One of the boys." Alice took a deep breath. "And he wouldn't talk to me. I tried to ask him. I wanted him to tell me it wasn't true. But he just ignored me. All summer long. He would hardly speak to me at all—and then he left for college. It was like I'd lost my brother! Because of your mother! She took him from me."
"And that's my fault?"
"No, but if you'd never come to Forks, if your father didn't have that accident, if your mother never came, none of it would have happened."
"Fuck you, Alice."
"I'm sorry. I know it wasn't your fault. I knew it then. But I was just so fucking lonely—Edward wasn't there to look out for us anymore. To keep the worst of the bullies away in school."
Bullshit, Bella thought. She refused to believe that Edward had ever done shit for her.
Alice continued, "And I just gave up. I couldn't take it anymore. I thought that if I just told them that I agreed with them—about you—if I was just saying it behind your back, that it wouldn't matter. You wouldn't know. And they'd leave me alone. Then it just got out of control. I—I wrote that word on your locker. And for the first time, I wasn't being treated like a loser. I wasn't the one they were always making fun of. They were acting like I was one of them."
"You were lonely? You? After you betrayed me, I had no one. No one! No friends! No family!"
"I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry. I thought you would have understood that I had to do it."
"Understood?" Bella couldn't help laughing. "That you had no choice? You had a choice. I never would have turned my back on you. Not for anything."
"Don't you ever make mistakes? Don't you ever do something and it's like it's not even you doing it? Like you're not in control?"
Bella laughed again, a cruel sound. "Grow the fuck up Alice. You're responsible for the things you do."
Alice swallowed. "You're right."
For all the good it does me, Bella thought.
"I'm sorry, Bella," Alice said again, gazing at Bella with an imploring expression.
"And what? I'm just supposed to forgive you?"
"I thought that's why you contacted me. I thought that you were over it."
"Over it?" Ha!
But then, Alice had every reason to think that, didn't she? Bella realized. Alice didn't know Bella's true reasons for getting back in touch.
"I'm not the person you used to know," Bella said, though she wasn't sure what she meant by that.
"I'm not either."
"Really? Because you still seem like a shallow, stuck-up bitch who would turn on me again for the sake of your reputation."
"I wouldn't! Not again. I learned my mistake. I've missed you." And Alice really did sound sincere.
What the fuck is going on? Bella wondered.
Her head was aching. She was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a scene—the very kind of scene she hated so very much.
But she'd finally gotten her apology, for whatever it was worth. An apology that she'd long since given up on.
Alice started speaking again. "If you can't forgive me, I'll understand. But can we maybe start over?"
Bella took a step back, her eyes widening. "I don't know how to trust you," she told Alice truthfully.
Alice winced, but nodded. "I'll just have to prove myself, then. That's ok."
Cut her off! Bella's instincts said. But, something else had her saying, "This patronizing bullshit has got to stop. I mean, do you even realize how rude you were to me today? With that shit about my legs and my hair. Not to mention the café."
"I get it. I do. I just—the people I work with in this industry are such assholes. The way they talk to each other. And sometimes I have to act like a bitch, too, so that people don't fuck with me. But that's my job. That's not who I am."
Bella closed her eyes. Cutting Alice off might be the safest option, but did she really want to do that?
Bella was lonely. Angela—and probably Jacob—no doubt considered her a good acquaintance, and there had been other acquaintances over the years, but Bella never really made an effort to really get to know people anymore. She didn't trust anyone. She couldn't.
What the fuck are you doing? Bella asked herself again as she felt herself nodding. "Ok."
Bella had a drawer-full of misgivings about trying to renew her friendship with Alice, but she would be lying if she said that she never missed her old friend, the old Alice.
Maybe she was being desperate, maybe it was just another sign of how low she'd sunk, but Bella just wanted to remember what it was like to have fun. To laugh with a friend. She wanted to remember what it was like all of those years ago, back before her father's accident.
Because, fucked up though Bella's life had been back then, at least she wasn't alone.
So Bella decided to give Alice another chance.
The two of them went back to the boutique and hung out for a few hours. Alice insisted that Bella keep the dress on, and Bella had to admit that she liked the way it made her feel—almost as if she had more confidence.
When they got to Newton's that night, a few of Bella's former students flagged her down. Going over to talk for a few minutes, Bella had been surprised—and exhilarated—to find that they not only remembered her, but that they thought she was one of the better TAs they'd ever had, or so they said.
Alas, Edward was none too pleased to discover Bella surrounded by a small crowd of her former students—all of them male, and all of them paying her court.
Bella had her back towards Edward, long shiny curls bouncing up and down and fabric swirling around her legs. Not that shiny curls or legs were objectionable in and of themselves—but said curls were only bouncing because Bella was bobbing her head as she spoke animatedly to a small group of young men clustered in front of the dart board, and the legs was swishing as she turned from one to the other, clearly oblivious to the fact that the young men were checking her out.
Edward wasn't quite sure what his intentions were. Tanya's words were still ringing in his ears: "To corrupt Isabella Swan. I know you want to."
He did. He wanted the high-and-mighty Isabella Swan, who'd always looked down on him, to realize that she was no better than him.
But it wasn't just that. If Bella really was missing out on life, because of what happened at Port Angeles, then that wasn't right.
And there was the not insignificant issue of Edward's recovery. He was struggling with an addiction. Bella's unobtainability made her the very sort of temptation that he would've been all too eager to sample just six months ago.
But he was better. He was getting better.
Or rather, he was teetering, wavering on the brink of something that he couldn't quite describe because he couldn't see it clearly.
At least he wasn't sitting in the break room at work thinking about throwing himself out of a window.
No, he was standing in Newton's, watching an asshole leer at Bella's ass.
Yeah, that was enough of that.
Creeping stealthily up behind Bella, Edward made sure that the wannabe suitors had shifted their attention to him by the time he gave Bella a hello. The disappointed puppies looked like they'd just been hit on the nose with a newspaper. That's right fuckers.
Startled by Edward's sudden appearance, Bella cast him a wary frown, but he just smiled back. He was standing rather too closely for comfort, so she shifted towards the wall, her exit blocked off by the lapdogs.
Not wanting to cause a scene, Bella decided to be magnanimous. She said "We were just discussing the gendered implications of imperialism."
Edward blinked. Glancing at the assembled young men, he said, "These fellows are all standing around discussing the gendered implications of imperialism? With you? In a bar?"
"They're all old enough to drink."
Edward laughed. "That's not what I mean."
The losers were all scowling at Edward. That was alright.
"I used to be their TA," Bella tried to explain.
"Oh, I guessed that already."
She shook her head. "America's activities in the Persian Gulf have been likened to those of Athens in the Delian League by more than—"
Edward couldn't take it anymore. "Sorry boys, the lady and I have to talk."
"Is something wrong?" Bella asked, following Edward.
"Only your pig-headed refusal to see what was really going on back there."
"Which was?"
"They wanted to take teacher home."
Bella stopped. "You're insane!" she whisper-screamed. "They were just interested in the subject."
"I don't doubt it. Are you even wearing a bra?"
Bella looked down at herself and blushed, remembering the strapless number Alice had given her. "Of course."
"Where'd you get that dress from? It doesn't look like your style."
"Alice." Bella didn't like Edward's tone. What did he mean about the dress not looking like her style? It did show more skin than she was used to exposing, but was that necessarily a bad thing? She already suspected that she looked like a kid playing dress up, but was it worse than that? Did she look bad?
Not to mention that Edward was being a dick.
Bella shook her head. "You told me that you were going to be nice to me if I came tonight. You promised." She felt the admission made her sound weak, but it wasn't fair—he was being a dick.
"How am I not being nice? I just thought that you might want to be given a head's up that they were checking you out," Edward said with a smirk, his tone implying that he thought it was a joke that anyone should find Bella attractive. "Should I have kept my mouth shut? Maybe you wanted one of them to take you home." He glanced back at the crowd of youths. "Which one's your favorite? I'll take you back so that you can proceed with the plan."
"Make fun of someone else," she said, moving to go around him.
"Why do you think I'm making fun of you?" he asked, stopping her.
"You're going to make me say it?"
"Say what?"
That no one could want me, Bella thought. Instead she said, "You know that they're not interested in me that way."
"How would I know that?"
"I'm a good TA, actually," Bella said, changing topics. "They liked my class."
"Oh, they liked your class alright. It had nothing to do with your teaching abilities."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've never had a student hit on you?"
Bella's jaw dropped. "Of course not."
Edward didn't believe it. He was pretty sure she'd been hit on plenty of times, and just hadn't realized it. "They're still watching you," he told her. "Your every move. They're wondering if you're going to leave with me tonight and if not, which of them has the best chance with you. If I hadn't come along, they would have tried to talk you into going to some party."
"I wouldn't have gone," Bella said, her forehead furrowing.
"They still would have tried. They're probably arguing right now over whether or not you swallow when you give head."
Her jaw clenched. "Don't say things like that. It's not true."
"You come here in a dress like that with your hair like that, and surround yourself with barely legal boys who'd like nothing more than to lick your neck, which, I might add, has been quite vulgarly exposed by this dress of yours, and you expect me to buy this innocence act?"
"Fuck you."
"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."
Abruptly, Bella swung to the side and slipped past Edward. But he caught up with her before she could make it to the table where Alice and Emmett were sitting.
"I don't know what you want from me," Bella said, deftly slipping out of Edward's reach.
"I want you to stop playing the Lady of Shallot for two minutes and realize what an amazing woman you could be."
"Could be?" she seethed, spinning around to glare up at him. "So I'm not amazing right now?" This was like the conversation with Alice at the boutique all over again. Bella could be thin. She could be pretty. But she wasn't. Not now.
"The insult exists only in your perception of yourself," Edward back-peddled. This wasn't going the way he'd planned. He hadn't intended to start a fight.
"My perception? How am I supposed to take it when someone tells me that I'm not amazing?"
"As a challenge to live up to your full potential." And Edward meant it. He felt like she'd cut herself off from life. She wasn't living to her fullest—and Edward couldn't help thinking that it was in part because of what he'd done with her mother, and because of Port Angeles.
"I don't share your opinion as to what my full potential might be," Bella said primly, chin in the air.
"And just what do you think that I want for you? Just what do you think I consider your full potential to be?"
"I don't know," Bella snapped, exasperated. "You probably agree with your sister?" She glared down at the dress. "But I won't be a painted whore."
"You don't know me at all," Edward retorted. That was the last thing he wanted for her.
"Yet you claim to know me so well," Bella huffed. "You keep telling me that I should want things. But I don't want anything. You say that you know all about my desires. You don't know anything." Bella left out the part about thinking that the Lady of Shallot from Tennyson's poem should have stayed in her tower. That the fair maiden was better off alone, pining away for companionship, then going down into the world, where all she had waiting for her was a meeting with death.
"What is it you're afraid of?" Edward asked. He wanted her to admit it—that she was afraid of the world.
"Being judged."
"I don't judge you," Edward said. He was the last person to ever judge anyone.
"You do nothing but."
And, on second thought, Edward had to admit that she was right. He did judge her. Grimacing, he said, "I can't help it. You're just so," he struggled for the word, "unmade."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's how you see me? Unmade?"
"Unfinished. Undone."
"And how would you have me be finished?"
Could he really say it out loud? "I would—I would have you corrupted." Edward had no intention of taking Tanya up on her offer. That is, his proposal to Bella had nothing to do with Tanya. Tanya had merely spelled it out for him, given words to his own unspoken inclinations to discover a hidden potential. This would be solely between Bella and himself.
Bella's jaw fell open. She gazed at Edward in shock. "Corrupted?"
Bella fell quiet for a moment, then pursed her lips. "What of you?" she asked. Her eyes swept over Edward, head to toe and back, like he was a piece of meat. "Could you be corrupted too?"
"No. I'm already corrupt." The suggestion was nonsensical.
"So a person can only be corrupted towards—what is it—debauchery? You want me debauched?"
"You needn't call it 'debauched,' but yes. You'd be corrupted. And afterwards…you wouldn't be the same. You wouldn't have to be, I mean. You'd be free. Don't you see?" Edward ignored the fact that it felt like he was trying to convince her as much as himself. "You've put yourself in a prison."
"I'm not in a prison. I'm happy."
"How can you be happy if you've cut everyone off?"
"That's exactly it. I don't want anyone."
"But don't you realize what you're missing?"
She sneered. "What? A husband? Children?"
Edward nodded and she went on. "Masen, I'll tell you what. I'll get married when you do."
Edward blinked, taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. "That's different. I've gone…too far, in my corruption. I'm no longer suitable for family-life. But I wouldn't let you go so far off course." He wouldn't. He'd stop himself from completely corrupting her. He could do that, couldn't he?
"You wouldn't let me go off course? How kind of you." Bella couldn't believe what a patronizing dick he was being.
"What about a wager?" Edward asked, the ludicrous idea popping into his head as he scrambled for a way to get her through to her.
"What?"
"A wager."
"What would I have to do?"
"Nothing you didn't want to," he assured her. "Just give me a chance."
"A chance for what?"
"To corrupt you."
AN:
Lady of Shallot appears in a poem by Tennyson – I think he invented her, but I could be wrong about that. As I said, she's in a tower by herself, staring out at the world and pining to join it. When she finally does, she dies.
Rec: An old favorite of mine - In the Days of Auld Lang Syne: Fix You by Feisty Y. Beden Reeling from traumatic events in high school, Alice hid away a part of her soul. Can Jasper help her find it again, when she didn't know she was looking? Story is rated M for language. A/J, AH, OOC. Part of larger series *In the Days of Auld Lang Syne* Twilight - Rated: M - English - Angst - Chapters: 28 - Words: 110,346 - Reviews: 651 - Favs: 218 - Follows: 116 - Updated: May 14, 2010 - Published: Feb 24, 2009 - Alice, Jasper – Complete