It has been too long since an update, and with my sister out of the house, I can think again. I won't go as far as I wanted to because my book is getting in the way of other projects, and other ideas are getting in the way of my book. I don't know exactly where I'll stop, but please don't kill me for pushing you guys off. My Halfling fans… the book's going great, & hopefully I can get it sent to a publishing company before winter.

The water falls' waves are crushing the poor, defenseless cliffs behind us. Tourists are laughing, shouting, and taking countless pictures of the Falls and themselves. Souvenir shops line the roads, the sells men shouting as people go by. "A Nigara Falls postcard?" "Get your picture taken in the prettiest caves!" Nothing could really represent the natural beauty better than our minds though.

I breathe the cool, wet breeze in. It smells better because Jasper's here. It is so easy to snuggle into his chest, wrap my arms around him, and pretend to sleep. He wraps his arms around me, too and rests his head on mine.

"You're very good at this," he whispers.

"At what?"

"Living among humans."

"I've done it for so long now it's become second nature. The Cullens have really helped me."

"Do you know where they are yet? I want to meet them."

I look up at his crimson eyes. He looks honest, and after all we've shared, I know that he'd never lie to me. There's something special about him, something I can't remember feeling before, but my forgotten past seems to be helping me get through this.

"What is it about a military man that I'm so drawn to?" I laugh. Neither one of know exactly what I mean, but a past life somewhere inside me laughs sadly. "Let's go see them now."

"Where to, Miss?" he asks in his perfect southern gentleman accent.

Butterflies dance inside me, and I lean closer into him, my mental eye looking in the future.

I always hated that. I could see myself having another vision, but I couldn't see what it was yet. I shouldn't complain because I'd see it myself very soon, but to be able to find Carlisle and Esme and Edward and Rosalie and Emmett now… But Jasper was my main priority right now.

The train stopped violently at the Philly train station, and crowds of people swarmed in and out, all rushing to reach their newest destination. I waited till the last second and jumped off the train and turned around to watch my past leave. I wouldn't miss it. Soon I'd have a close friend and a family.

I wasn't sure how hard it would be to find the right diner, but I wasn't expecting it to be so close! I went it, knowing that he wouldn't come today- the sky wasn't dark enough though a storm could break any minute. The diner was small, only able to hold fifty people, and not even half that many were inside. A few booths held a family, the little kids laughing or causing their mothers trouble. The tables in the middle of the room were all lined up like a large group was coming later, but the three waitresses in the back weren't concerned with their future customers. Instead they were gossiping in the kitchens, once in a while looking in the diner at the dirty bar. Two old men, teeth missing, hair a mess, coffee in hand, papers everywhere else, grinned back.

I cringed, but I walked in anyway. The servers had just bleached the floors and walls, and the smell was overwhelming. Mixed with the greasy foods and disgusting coffee grinds, this had to be the worst thing I'd ever smelt! I stopped breathing and sat down at the stool I'd see Jasper from and began flipping through my notebook, looking for a blank page.

I took out my pencils and began slowly sketching his face. While my fingers worked, my mind searched for the exact day or time I would meet my companion. Different times spun in my head; he wasn't sure what he was doing. I had a hard time just finding where he was going next. Dead people, Charlotte and Peter, and dark alleys circled around him, each picture full of depression. I so wished that I could fix that and make him happy.

Had he ever been happy? For as long as I'd seen him, I couldn't think of a genuine smile, a real moment of joy. He resented killing his prey, was too cautious around his former alliances, and taking cities was just a sport. I couldn't wait to find out where he came from. How old was he? How did he always know what to do? People obviously reacted the way he wanted them to. If he say relax, they did. If he needed them to focus, they could.

"I don't think he's coming today, Missy," slurred the drunk man a few stools down. He was on his third cup of coffee, maybe trying to sober up, but the caffeine wasn't doing him any good.

"No, not today," I sighed. "The weather's too nice. He'll be here on the worst day this week. I just wish I knew when that is."

"You're drunker than me, Missy!" howled the man. He stumbled over and picked up my sketch. "This weather's a damn sight. I don't know how it could get worse unless a hurricane comes through. Now, let's see this lad. Oh! World War II man, is he? Well, he's been through a dosey. Why's he all scared up like that?"

That caught me off guard. I though I'd seen Jasper's face clearly, and yes, there were some scars on his chin and arms, but they were very faint, nothing to worry about. Or so I'd thought. Seeing my drawing for the first time, I noticed how beaten up he was. How had I missed this? Crescent scars covered his neck, arms, and face. The most dominate ones were around his eyes and chin. This was the Jasper I'd been seeing for nearly thirty years, but the way I portrayed him now showed him as a deadly vampire.

"He's been at war a very long time. He's the best his leaders have seen, and he pays the price for it," I whispered just loud enough for the man to hear.

"Well, those damn Germans could've done worse, I guess. Look what they been doing to them Jews!"

"Yeah, those damn Germans…"

In my mind I could see magnolia trees everywhere, the bright sun high above, and young couples laughing, a young, eager man behind me. I could remember a sketch book, wild dresses, and sneaking out.

"You're not a damn German are you?"

"Long live Kaiser Wilhelm!"

And once again I saw the boy's face. A burning airplane, a crowded church, electricity all over! My brain hurt just from the thought.

"You alright, Miss?"

Two others were around me now. I simply nodded and picked up my things, leaving much too quickly than a human should. I was out on the damp streets within seconds, and the cool, wet air seemed to be the right medicine.

I went back the next day, but the weather wasn't much worse than the day before. I sat in my spot, turning down everything everyone offered, and got out my sketch book again. This time I paid closer attention to watch I was drawing, but my mind was still centered around Jasper and his inability to know where he was going. It was frustrating!

Everyday I drew someone else. So far I'd drawn Jasper, Carlisle, Esme, Edward, and Emmett. Today I would start on Rosalie, and from then I wasn't sure. I didn't know any other vampires except Frankie, but the less I remembered him the better I felt. I'd only gotten through with the basic outline when I heard the waitresses start complaining.

"She's been coming everyday for the past five days now, but she never orders anything!"

"When's the poor girl going to learn that she's being stood up?"

"Her brave soldier is probably dead."

I heard, but I ignored them all. I was used to human anger and lies. Besides, the sky was growing darker by the minute. I was sure that I'd be able to prove them wrong today. Tomorrow's forecast looked lighter, and soon the sun would be an issue for me. Jasper wasn't used to the sunlight, so he'd leave as soon as it started coming.

Hours passed, and Jasper still didn't come. The rain came down, each drop harder and louder than the one before. Lightning was lighting the sky, knocking out power in the smaller buildings, zapping the rods on the skyscrapers. Thunder shook the glass outside, shaking the few crazy pedestrians running down the street. Between drawing Rosalie's flawless curls, I scanned the scene outside. Several men thought about coming in, many blonde and handsome, but none were him.

"Well, Missy," chuckled the drunk man. He'd been by my side everyday, each time a little drunker than before, and everyday he tried to sober himself up with much more caffeine than was healthy. "The day's not getting worse, and the sun'll be back tomorrow. Where's your lover boy now, eh?"

"Jasper," I corrected him. "He's only a close friend, and he'll be here any minute. You'll see."

More time passed, and my Rosalie picture was nearly complete. I was procrastinating, drawing extra curls, adding little details to her necklace. Finally I had to put away the paper, no longer able to add more without ruining it.

I turned around to watch the people just as a tall man came into view. He had a trench coat on, the collar popped up to keep his neck dry, but his honey blonde hair was soaked to his head. With one marked up, snow white hand, he pushed it out of his face, his black eyes so dark that I was surprised that he could control himself. He sighed, looked at the small diner.

He sat down in the closet chair to the door, the chair farthest away from the cold, silent customers. He took off his coat and threw it over the chair next to him. He was dressed like all nomads: a white, ragged, button-down shirt; simple, wrinkled brown pants; dirty shoes. He had dark shadows under his black eyes, and I noticed how striking his scars really were.

I had to admit that I was scared. He'd been through more than I knew, but he was ready to turn his life around. That was what brought him here to me, and that was what would keep us together.

I could tell he didn't want to hurt these people, but his thirsty eyes couldn't help but look at the humans around us as his next meal. A wicked smile involuntarily crossed his beautiful face. I could already see his next moves, all the possibilities he was unknowingly thinking of. If I didn't act soon, the mother and her two young sons would die very soon. He would walk over to them, act sweet, pretend to take care of them. She probably lost her husband in the war, and he could comfort her. He'd offer to drive her home, steal a car and take her to "his place." The kids would play by themselves, quiet and happy while he and the mother "talked." She'd never come out of the bedroom, and the kids would have to be silenced… forever. Did he know that he was already leaning closer towards them?

I jumped off the barstool and tried to steadily walk towards him, but I was too excited to speak to the man I'd see from afar for so incredible long, to touch his scared hand, to know his past, and to save that family.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," I smiled. I held out my hand, not wanting to scare him away but unable to leave him here alone. For everyone's sake, we had to leave now, together.

He smiled, his eyes distracted from the hunt, confused about my behavior. He looked down at my hand and back at me.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

His voice was much better in person. His southern accent was strong and so polite. He'd never acted like this in my visions. Did this mean that this was a different side of him, that he was already changing into something better? I hoped so.

He took my hand and stood up. I handed him his jacket, and he wrapped it around my shoulders like a human would to his girl. Holding hands, both unsure about what would happen next, we walked out of the diner.

Through the storm, I could still hear my week's acquaintances' reactions.

"He came!"

"The boy's not dead?"

"How sweet!"

"Freaks, both of 'em! I don't think they even know each other!" cried the drunk between hiccups.

"Look, Momma!" laughed one of the little boys. "Look at the pretty girl outside! She's helping that man be good. I want to be like her one day."