11. FAMILY

"ECH, COVER THAT THING UP," JACOB COMPLAINED AS HE, RENESMEE, ALICE, AND I

passed through the living room toward the front door. Renesmee shivered delicately as Rosalie quickly threw a blanket over the thick iron box that housed Aro's idea of a wedding gift. I was sure Rosalie's instantaneous action was not at all for Jacob's sake. We walked to the garage in thoughtful silence. I assumed I wasn't the only one who felt uneasy going abroad right now.

I wondered, for the millionth time, how the Volturi could have known about the wedding. Had they found someone else with the ability to see the future? That seemed unlikely -- no two gifts were ever quite the same, and if there had been someone else like Alice out there I would have thought Aro would have found her -- or him -- before now. Were they having someone keep watch on us? A spy? Again, I doubted it. Wouldn't Alice or Edward have been aware? Seen him or heard him? How, then? Some new power we hadn't yet heard of, maybe the ability to see what was going on immense distances away? If that were the case, then they would surely know that Renesmee and Jacob were leaving Forks, and Alice was positive that the Volturi would be clueless. So, then how? I asked myself again. How?

"It's too bad we can't take the Porsche with us," Alice sighed as we passed by the sleek yellow Turbo 911 in favor of the less conspicuous Volvo. Edward was trading Alice for the two weeks we would be gone, allowing his car to remain in airport parking so we could return whenever we got back -- just in case. On the off chance that something did go wrong, I wanted immediate transportation back to my family. Alice ran her fingers down the length of the car as she walked by. "I don't suppose we'll be able to rent anything as fast."

"You could always steal something again. Add another felony to your record," I smiled, trying to muster up enthusiasm I didn't really feel for the decision to leave. Alice stuck her tongue out at me.

I piled the huge steamer trunk she had packed for us and the two more reasonably-sized suitcases of Renesmee and Jacob's into the Volvo's trunk. It was surprisingly roomy for such a small car.

"See, I told you I could have fit the other case," Alice grumbled as she noticed the corner of space still open in the trunk. I rolled my eyes, handing her the two large carry-on bags she had insisted we needed as she slid lithely into the front seat.

Jacob chivalrously helped Renesmee into the back -- though she hardly needed it

-- then clambered in beside her. He looked tired. He had spent most the night staring at his new bride, asleep with her head in his lap, on the white couch in the living room surrounded by anxious and restless vampires. We had all discussed in endless circles the possible ways the Volturi could have known about Renesmee and Jacob. The same theories, the same arguments, over and over and over again. I felt exhausted, and I didn't even need sleep. A couple weeks in a tropical locale would do Jacob some good, I thought. Poor kid looked drained.

Renesmee, on the other hand, was exuberant. I tried telling myself her excitement was for the change of scene and not the, er, wedding night (well, technically they had spent their wedding night in their family's living room) in the secluded villa on the balmy beach paradise... Thank goodness I didn't have Edward's gift. Try as they might I was sure the newlyweds couldn't keep all their thoughts out of their minds in his presence. And Jacob had such vivid mental images, Edward had told me. Pure torture for a father. Poor Edward.

I climbed in behind the wheel and started the car. I doubted human ears could tell the difference, but I certainly noticed the distinction between the Porsche's nearly inaudible purr and the Volvo's revolving hum. That Porsche really was a thing of beauty -- almost enough to make me drool over cars like Edward and Rose. I set the sedan into reverse and backed dexterously out of the garage.

I waved goodbye to Bella, Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, Carlisle, and Esme as we pulled out of the drive, all of them standing on the porch steps to see us off. Bella and Renesmee had already had about fifteen nearly tearful goodbyes today. It had taken all of Alice's confident assurances that her daughter would be safe to convince Bella to release Renesmee from her steel embrace. Bella seemed almost as worried about Alice and me, but we had promised her -- again -- that everything would be fine.

"Don't worry," I had whispered to her as Alice hugged the family goodbye, "I'm keeping us a good six countries away from Volterra." Bella had seemed a little mollified

by that, and I had hugged her tightly, a thank you for all her care and true concern. "We'll see you in two weeks," I assured her, dripping a little calm over her. Her worry wasn't going to change anything -- might as well leave her relaxed for as long as possible. She'd have time enough to be distressed when I was gone.

We left the big white house behind, Renesmee gazing out the back window, even after the house was lost in the ferns and trees and twisting road. She was a jumble of emotions; anxiety, sadness, guilt... but mostly anticipatory excitement. Finally she turned back to Jacob and took his hand. I could see them looking into each other's eyes in the rearview mirror. The connection was so deep, so profound, I suddenly felt ridiculous for objecting to the thought of them together in Cancun. Not that I wanted details, but they both deserved all the happiness in the world. Jacob would give my Nessie that happiness, and that was all I wanted for her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I said, pulling an envelope from my breast pocket. Of course, I hadn't forgotten, but I thought this surprise could wait after all the commotion from last night. I handed the envelope to Jacob. He looked puzzled until he read the return address. Then a slight apprehension rolled over his immense frame. "I was going to give it to you after the wedding, but..."

Jacob looked at my eyes in the mirror, then slowly tore open the envelope.

"What is it?" Alice and Renesmee asked together. Renesmee curious, Alice annoyed -- she didn't like having to ask.

"It's my SAT scores," he said, staring blankly at the paper he had pulled from the envelope.

"You took the SATs?" Renesmee asked excitedly. I knew she was dying to know how Jacob had done, but she was afraid to ask in case he had faired poorly. Jacob looked at me again in the mirror, his face still blank. Renesmee noted the expression and her excitement faltered. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway, we're already in--"

I couldn't suppress my grin. I had my ways, and I knew Jacob's scores already.

"No," he said slowly, shaking his head, "I ... I got a fourteen-eighty."

"What?" Alice and Renesmee cried, again in unison.

"That's amazing! Oh, I told you you deserved to go to Dartmouth!" Renesmee crowed.

"Congratulations, Jacob," Alice turned in her seat to smile brightly at him. An incredulous grin began to spread across his face.

"A fourteen-eighty. Billy's not gonna believe this."

"Sure he will," I beamed, "You're a virtual genius under all that humility."

"Right," Jacob mumbled, looking embarrassed.

"Brains and brawn," Renesmee giggled, hugging her husband close to her, "Oh, I'm so proud of you! Even J Jenks didn't forge a score that high!"

"Thanks, Jasper," Jacob said, nodding in gratitude at my reflection. Alice eyed me suspiciously. When I was with Jacob, she couldn't see me in her visions either.

"What did you have to do with this?"

"Not much," I said, at the same time Jacob answered,

"Everything."

"He helped me study," Jacob explained as Renesmee and Alice gazed at him, "Did a hell of a job, too, apparently. No way I would have done this well without Jasper. You're actually a pretty good teacher, man. I thought it was just with fighting and strategy and stuff, but you really made all those vocab words and algebra theorems stick and make sense." He stared at the SAT scores again. "Thanks. Really."

"Don't mention it," I said, trying not to smile. "I actually had a good time. If you need any help with finals--"

"I'm gonna live at your house during finals week," Jacob chortled, leaning forward and patting me roughly on the shoulder. We all laughed.

In what seemed like no time we had arrived at the airport, parked in the long term parking area, extracted the ridiculous mountain of luggage, and were heading to the ticketing counter. Alice had called a few hours earlier to change our tickets around, and Renesmee and Jacob were all set to leave about forty-five minutes before we did. We checked our luggage at our different airlines and met back at the International Departing Flights terminal. Alice adjusted the white eyelet dress she had selected for Renesmee (ridiculous here in Seattle, but perfect for sunny Cancun), smoothing down a ruffle, tightening a strap, twisting the bodice slightly to the left. Alice always insisted on perfection when she was anxious, and I knew saying goodbye to Ness for the first time in almost six years was making her more fretful than usual.

"Remember that cave about two miles east of the villa," she rambled, "and you have to go see the ruins -- they're amazing. Oh, and there's this wonderful little cantina about three miles outside of town, if you want to go dancing -- and I hear they make the best margaritas..."

At last the plane was boarding and Alice was fussing like an overbearing mother sending her only child off to college.

And Ness didn't want Bella to come, I smirked inwardly.

Finally Renesmee and Jacob were lost in the sea of passengers and the bend of the boarding tunnel. I put my arms around my little wife, bending to rest my chin on her slender shoulder, and whispered gently in her ear.

"They're going to have a wonderful time. And so are we."

Alice grimaced, still looking anxious.

"Do you think she'll find the camisole I got for her? Or the bikini?"

"She'll be fine. She knows you well enough to dig through the suitcase for hidden treasure as soon as she lands."

Alice smiled slightly. Not the blinding angel-smile that would stop my breath in my chest, but we were working up to it. I took the immense "carry-on" bags from her in my right hand, grasping her warm little hand in my left, and turned toward our own terminal. We would be leaving soon as well, and really, after Paris, we didn't have a plan. Incredible and romantic as Paris was, it was a mere train ride from Italy. I wasn't staying there any longer than it took to rent a car or book another flight.

"So where do you think we should go?" I asked as I maneuvered through the rushing humans. I tried to ignore the burn in my throat and breathe only through my mouth.

"Oh, I don't know. Anywhere, really. We could make it an adventure." She grinned up at me.

"Leave it up to Fate?" I asked, smiling back. Maybe I could surprise Alice, after all. If I made no decision, she would see nothing certain. "I say we just take the first available European flight from Paris. Play it by ear."

"Any flight that takes us a continent away from Italy," Alice corrected, elbowing me playfully in the hip.

"Yes," I agreed, completely serious.

"Ah, well," she sighed, "there are plenty of pretty, secluded places I haven't seen yet on the far side of Russia. The shopping won't be any good, but..." She waved her hand in resigned dismissal.

When we reached our terminal Alice decided to pick up some odds and ends at one of the gift shops. Like we needed any more luggage. I reclined against a pillar while the attendants prepared to board the first class passengers. I saw a tall sandy-haired girl with deep brown eyes eyeing me in appreciative awe. I tended to forget how these poses made me look to human eyes. Like a movie star or a model. Glorious. I shifted my weight and looked away from the girl uncomfortably. Rosalie might adore the attention, but I didn't. The last thing I needed was a hot-blooded human fussing over me in a cramped airplane for the next five hours. I swallowed the excess of venom in my mouth that flowed at the thought. I heard the attendant whisper to someone,

"Look at that guy! Wow." I could feel their eyes on my face, raking my body, but I stubbornly stared out the window at the landing airplanes. Alice needed to hurry up.

"Wasn't he in that magazine Trent had? Oh, what's it called?" The other person, another woman, whispered back.

"No, wasn't it a movie? The one with that guy, you know -- the brunette with three names?"

They continued their discussion, trying to place me. It was a good thing it was overcast (as usual) outside, or they'd really have something to gossip about, I thought. No, no, the sparkly model, the one that glitters in the sun...

"Just in time," a silver bell voice chimed as a light hand rested on my arm. "Those two were about to come offer you some 'special treatment.' "

I chuckled softly and, very conspicuously, pulled Alice in close for a long, passionate kiss. The intention was simple, but after a twenty-fourth of a second with Alice's lips against mine, I forgot where I was or what I was doing. As usual when Alice and I were together this way, all I knew was her. A weight that had nothing to do with the Volturi or the hot-blooded humans knotted my stomach, and my breath stopped in my chest. A plane could have crashed into the terminal right now and I wouldn't have noticed.

The whispered disappointments of the two attendants brought me back to reality. I smiled as Alice disentangled herself from my arms, leaning against me a bit embarrassed. Public displays of affection were not usually something I gave into, but really, this was for the greater good. I didn't kiss her again, but I pulled her close to me, my arms around her shoulders, hers around my waist.

"I'm glad we're doing this," I admitted. She knew I meant the anniversary trip, though the kiss wasn't a bad idea either.

"Me too. I don't suppose you'd want to spend one night in Paris -- we could walk the Seine by lamplight and I'm sure that boutique on the Champs Elysée has plenty of new merchandise in..."

I pressed my lips together. As tempting as that was, the sinister thoughts of Aro and his grasping hands flashed in my head. I suppressed a shudder.

"We'll play it by ear," I hedged, not wanting to disappoint her. I was sure I couldn't relax enough in France to make the stay worth while, anyway. Really I wouldn't feel in any mood for romance until we had at least one country between us and the Volturi. I shook my head -- why was I giving up the distance of an ocean and a country for such frivolity? What was I doing?

Alice felt me tensing and stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against the tip of my nose.

"We're going to be fine," she breathed in my ear, "Stop worrying."

"It's not me I'm worried about," I mumbled. I could take care of myself.

"I know," Alice sighed softly, turning her head to the side so she could lean it against my chest. "But I promise, we'll both be fine. I know what you would do to protect me. Do you think I'd risk losing you by putting myself in danger?"

I knew what she meant. I would easily throw myself in front of a train to protect Alice. If there were any chance something would happen to her, and therefore that I would be endangered protecting her from it, she would never risk this trip. She would give her life for me as quickly as I would give mine for her. There wasn't much, well, really there wasn't anything, we wouldn't do to keep the other from harm. We were the chink in each other's armor.

"Well, we'll see," I replied evasively, smoothing my hand over her thick inky hair.

"Now boarding all first class passengers and passengers requiring assistance for flight two-oh-nine, first class passengers and those requiring assistance for flight two-oh-nine," the sandy-haired flight attendant called over the intercom. I gathered Alice's bags as we prepared to board the plane.

The flight was not quite as bad as I had anticipated. After my passionate display with Alice, the flight attendants seemed rather resentfully unconcerned with my comfort. I saw the four stewardesses aboard stealing furtive glances our way, but they tried not to stare openly when I refused drinks or the in-flight meal. I did hear the heartbeat of a little blonde attendant begin to race when she heard my voice -- like warm honey or velvet to her ears -- as I asked for a pillow (it was always good to keep up appearances), but she was either inaudible over the thrumming of the engines or she kept her reactions to herself. I didn't hear her speak to anyone about me, at any rate.

Alice happily sketched in a notebook or prattled on a little too innocently about the shops she'd just love to visit in Paris. I bit my lip but didn't say anything. Alice usually got her way in the end, but I wasn't giving in to this request easily. She'd have to give me some damn good assurances that nothing -- not a hint or a flash -- would come from the Volturi. As I couldn't see into her mind as Edward could, I didn't see how she planned to make me as certain as I needed to be in order to stay even one night. Words like "honeymoon suite" and "sheer" and "Parisian lace" were dropped none too subtly throughout the flight. I did my best to ignore her. The rapid pace of my breathing was not helping anything, and I had to clench my teeth and the armrests very tightly to keep myself composed. Eventually my little schemer seemed to realize she was only making things more difficult for me (or her visions had shown her she wasn't swaying me much), and she flipped open the magazine she had purchased at the gift shop. Despite my slight exasperation, I had to work hard to keep the twitch from my lips as she "accidentally" let the page fall to an article about new "bedroom moves." There was something to be said for the sexual revolution.

I feigned sleep for a few hours, thinking -- again -- about Renesmee and the Volturi. How had they known? They were always recruiting new "talent," but what kind of super-power would allow them to know Ness and Jacob were getting married? Had they really found someone to take Alice's place, since she had declined to join? As glad as that would make me -- to have Alice off the hook, no longer sought after -- it was almost the same as if she were in their possession. At least, the results were almost the same. Alice's power in the hands of the Volturi. They would be omniscient, omnipresent. I shuddered. No, I was sure if they had an evil Alice we would have heard something about it by now. Allistair and his conspiracy theories -- or Garrett or Eleazar and their mistrust of the Volturi -- someone would have suspected something and passed it along by now. If suddenly the Volturi knew things they couldn't have known, thousands of miles away, rumors would be buzzing. Wouldn't they? Then how? A spy who knew enough to stay out of Edward's range of "hearing?" That was possible, but I was certain that even if Alice were distracted she would have seen another of our kind if he or she were that close. She always did. Truthfully, if someone were close enough to see us, no matter how stealthy they were, one of us -- or one of the werewolves -- would have seen or smelled them. There just was no way to hide from so many watchful eyes. How, then? How?

The question spun in circles in my head, the same questions and theories and arguments we had discussed all night, that I had repeated in my mind since the moment Renesmee opened that damned present.

"Ugh!" I groaned and shook my head, readjusting my position. I didn't open my eyes. To everyone but Alice it would just look like I was having a dream. I tried to focus on something else. Until there was more information, it did me no good to dwell on baseless theories. Until I got back to my family and we devised the next step in our plan, what was the point of this whirlpool of conjecture and hypotheses?

With an effort I shifted my thoughts to more pleasant avenues, to various memories and daydreams. Alice the first day I had seen her in that dingy diner in Philadelphia, the incomparable way I had felt after talking with her for just a moment. That love and hope that filled my entire body, my entire being.

Edward's face when he had come home from his hunting trip to find a battle-scarred soldier and a tiny ballerina fortuneteller making themselves at home in what had previously been his bedroom. My mouth twitched. That face had been priceless.

Or Alice in that tiny walk-up outside Boston when we had tried, for a short time, to live on our own as Rosalie and Emmett sometimes did. It had turned out to be too difficult for me to be living in such cramped quarters with humans -- their scent saturating the walls, the furniture, my very clothes... I would have endured it if Alice had been happy, but she was much more contented when we lived with Esme, Carlisle, and Edward. Alone time was good -- definitely, no complaints about alone time -- but it was nice to have a family to talk to and interact with. Even so, I remembered fondly Alice in one of my undershirts -- enormous on her petite frame -- happily humming to herself and painting the handkerchief-sized living room, trying to add some light and color to the miniscule space. I had to smile at that. That apartment was Alice trying to "rough it."

I reminisced about Edward's bachelor party, when Emmett and I had kidnapped him from Bella's unwilling arms for one last night of "guy time," as Emmett called it. It wasn't much of a bachelor party, by traditional standards. No strippers or alcohol or smoky clubs. Just the three of us (Carlisle had good-naturedly bowed out, insisting it was a "boys night," and fathers did not belong) on the Rugged Ridge mountain expanse, where cougars were plentiful. Though Edward had found two lions to his liking and Emmett had even stumbled upon a mid-sized black bear (I was content to stick with a lone mountain wolf I had cornered against the sheer side of a cliff -- he was only about eighty pounds, but he put up a very satisfying fight), the conversation was what I remembered most. Edward simply wouldn't shut up about Bella. To be fair, this was all new for him and his wedding was the next day, but I wondered how it was humanly -- or immortally -- possible to speak one person's name so many times in the course of one night. Despite the constant buzz of "Bella" in my ear, I was delighted to see Edward finally happy. Just so damned elated. After all these years he finally got it.

Oh, he had always patronizingly assured us he understood what we meant when Emmett and I talked about how we would do anything -- anything -- for Alice and Rosalie. He had nodded his head, insisting he would die for them too, for any of us. Sometimes Emmett would try to argue, try to explain, but Edward was always so certain he knew everything. Now he actually understood. When it came down to it, dying for someone was easy. It was all the other millions of things you would be willing to do, things you never thought yourself capable of. I cringed as I thought about Renesmee's first year of life. I would never have left everyone when the Volturi descended upon Forks of my own accord. To this day I couldn't express how miserable, how wretched, how truly unspeakably awful I felt leaving them all there, knowing they thought I was abandoning them, knowing they thought I was a coward. Living with the knowledge thatthey believed I wouldn't fight to the last twitching strip of sinew and bone in my body to protect them; knowing how they must feel, thinking that that knew me, trusting me, and then ... I just left to save my own hide. I sucked in a gasp of air at the thought, nearly choking on the vanilla-and-cotton scent of the woman leaning forward to grab something stowed under the chair behind me. If anyone besides Alice had asked me -- well, begged me was more accurate -- to leave, I would have refused flat out without a second's hesitation, and probably with a growl and a few choice swear words in response. If I hadn't actually done it for Alice, I wouldn't have believed myself capable of such base treachery. Of course, in the end, Alice was right. Alice was always right. Aro needed to believe she had gone, never to return. We had needed to find Nahuel and his aunt. My family forgave me once they understood -- even forgave me when they hadn't understood, which made me feel even more detestable. But the fact remained -- I would have left with Alice and never come back. I would have hated myself for doing it, but I would have done it all the same. For better or worse, Edward finally understood that.

My mind shifted to the image I had conjured when Bella had unveiled the Hanover house; the dream of a human Alice with a human me and human babies. Alice was made for the fashion of the twenties. How she would have loved that era, had she been free to enjoy it. Had her parents not been so inhuman as to lock her up in that dungeon of an asylum, as most mental institutions were in those days. I scratched four deep grooves into the plastic of the armrest as my nails dug in, and quickly had to try to scuff them out. Don't leave evidence. But the daydream. Alice in a white linen dress, straight and simple, rocking in a chair on the porch, fanning herself as a summer breeze flitted across the lawn up to the house. Me in a vest and wide legged pants, pinstripes with a watch chain hanging low, leaning against the wall watching little Jackson run through the tall grass with two flaxen haired sisters. In all probability, though, any children of Alice's would have that thick jet black hair. That would be okay, too. The picture changed to a beautiful little girl with thick inky curls, holding a rag doll in her hand with her dainty finger in her mouth. A gorgeous little girl with Alice's eyes and thick lashes. Of course, neither Alice nor I really knew what color her eyes had been when she was human. Even if she could have remembered, I doubted they had many mirrors in the asylum. I focused on the stunning girl's eyes. Golden, as Alice's were now? Maybe a deep blue? That would be striking. Maybe a warm chocolaty brown like Bella's and Renesmee's?

I felt Alice rest her head on my shoulder, sighing softly. I smiled, opening my eyes to look down at her flawless pale features, her spiky black hair, her perfect pointed nose.

"Do you ever wonder, well, if you and I could have..."

She glanced up at me. "What?"

"If we had ever ... had our own child,"

She exhaled, a little furrow of surprise in her brow.

"What do you think she would have looked like?" I spoke almost in a whisper.

Alice thought for a moment. It wasn't as if we had never talked of the things we longed for from the human future that was now lost to us -- families, a normal life, growing old together... -- but we had never really talked about having children as we were now. There really was no point. Until Bella and Edward, we hadn't thought our kind could reproduce at all. And even now that we knew, it was a moot point for us. Alice wasn't human. She could never carry a child anyhow.

"Who said it would be a girl?" She smiled faintly, tracing a half moon-shaped scar on my forearm with her dainty finger.

I smiled, strangely glad she was playing along. It may be an impossibility, but I could daydream if I wanted to, couldn't I? After all, these were the only kinds of dreams left to me.

"Okay, what he or she would have looked like."

Alice was quiet for a minute, then she said softly, "I always thought, if such a thing were possible, that we'd have a little boy just like you. Tousled honey blonde hair and tall for his age, fearless." She looked up at my pleasantly surprised expression, "We'd have to keep him from playing with the lions and bears, or from jumping off a cliff. He wouldn't know fear. He would have given Renesmee a run for her money," Alice chuckled softly.

I couldn't help smiling more broadly. She had thought about this too. A cousin for Renesmee, not human, as I had pictured, but a sturdy, bold little monster to race young Ness through the woods and tackle deer and pull her curls. I chuckled too.

"I thought a pretty baby girl, with dark curls and pink cheeks -- I'm sure you had pink cheeks once. And your eyes -- whatever color they might be, they would be your eyes. So sweet and thoughtful and quiet -- well, I guess she wouldn't have gotten everything from you."

Alice pinched the scar.

"And she would have been impeccably dressed, all the time. Two or three years old, it wouldn't matter. Never a ruffle out of place, never a spot or a wrinkle. I can see her pouting when her brother gets a smudge on her new frock..." I smiled, looking over Alice's head out the window into the midnight blue of the darkening sky.

"A boy and a girl, then," Alice whispered, slipping her hand into mine. I kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"A boy and a girl," I agreed. It was a pretty dream. Maybe someday, years from now, we would adopt like Carlisle and Esme. Not children, but one day we might feel like parents, too. And we'd find a golden haired youth in his teens, and an ebony-haired ballerina, and we'd take them in and teach them the ways of our family. We could do that. Someday.

* * *

As we exited the plane in the Charles de Gaulle International Airport in Paris I sucked in deep mouthfuls of air. It wasn't exactly fresh, as we were still inside the building surrounded by humans, but it was better than the dense saturated odor of the enclosed plane. The second leg of the trip had been much worse than the first. Either the flight crew on the plane from Chicago to Paris was much friendlier, or my mouth-to-mouth performance with Alice had been the best idea I'd ever had. The flight attendants were almost unbearably attentive for the eight and a half hour flight from Illinois to France. I clenched my hands into tight fists at my side. Recycled air, one hundred twenty-seven heartbeats pumping thick warm blood through tight veins, so close to the surface, just under that thin membrane of skin ... I locked my jaw tight. Thinking about it wasn't helping -- too bad I couldn't calm myself down.

Alice and I made our way to the crowded baggage carousel, being careful not to touch anyone with our icy skin. An elderly couple and a man who appeared to be in his late twenties gave us a wide berth as we tried to squeeze up to the conveyor belt. The woman eyed us cautiously, knowing instinctively that something was not right with us, but as this gave us unfettered access to the parade of luggage I didn't mind. Sometimes being a vampire had its advantages.

I hefted up the steamer trunk as it passed by us, pretending to struggle with its immense size and obvious weight. It would never do to sweep up the huge trunk as though it were stuffed with feathers -- which was about as heavy as it seemed to me. Always keep up appearances. I didn't really have to think about it much, anymore. It was pretty second nature now.

"So, do we check into the five-star honeymoon suite overlooking the Seine, or do we hope for business class on the next flight to Saint Petersburg?"

I glared at her. The thought of sitting through another minute of dense recycled human air -- even if I spent the entire flight holding my breath -- made my mouth fill with venom and my throat blaze. This was hardly fair. I gritted my teeth, vacillating between immediate relief from the barely endurable ache or immediate escape from the possibly life-threatening danger. Ugh!

"Fine. One night," I managed, though I did not unclench my jaw.

"Excellent!" Alice crowed, taking my arm and dancing toward the exit. Alice always got her way. I'd have to stop giving Edward such a hard time -- we were both pushovers.

Alice hailed a taxi and I kindly helped the driver hoist the huge case into the trunk. The carry-on bags had no hope of fitting in this car, so I held them on my lap as we drove to the hotel. I ground my teeth again in exasperation at the picture I must present. Even Edward didn't carry Bella's purses.

Alice pirouetted out of the cab as the driver held the door for her, flitting across the sidewalk toward the grand hotel. I handed the driver seventy-five Euros, nodding politely at his stuttered thanks, and lifted the steamer trunk out of the back of the taxi. The first streetlamps began to flit on as twilight descended upon Paris.

"Réservation pour Whitlock," Alice trilled in her musical, lilting voice to the well-dressed male receptionist at the check-in counter. He stared at her for a moment, seeming a bit dazed. Alice tilted her head slightly, waiting politely. He stuttered incoherently in French before typing something into the computer. He had to re-do his inquiry three times as he punched in the wrong keys. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I thought Alice liked this.

"Ah, oui, madamemoiselle. Le suite de lune de mîel," he noticed me standing a few feet behind Alice and his face fell a little. I could feel the disappointment in him. I smiled back at him widely, letting the light of the elaborate crystal chandelier in the lobby glint off my teeth. He barely suppressed his shudder and motioned to a bellhop to get our bags, handing Alice a plastic magnetized key. "Chambre seize quarante-deux."

"Merci, beaucoup," Alice flashed a dainty smile, setting his heart racing again, and spun on the spot to face me. I rolled my eyes again so she could see.

"What?" she asked innocently.

The bellhop led the way to the elevator -- I held my breath on the way up -- and showed us to the honeymoon suite, room sixteen forty-two. I slipped him a generous tip and turned to watch Alice prance around the suite in delight.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Someday we should stay here for a whole week," she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

"If someday is when Italy has fallen into the ocean, then sure," I replied casually, carrying the steamer trunk to the master bedroom. I had to admit, this was a gorgeous hotel. The inverted "C" and "E" logo of the posh Champs Elysée Plaza hotel was inconspicuously embroidered and embossed all over the rooms. The rooms themselves were decorated in soft lilacs and purples, giving a very springy and regal feel to the space. When I saw the delicate pink rose petals spread over the huge master bed and the "honeymoon" gift bag filled with scented candles and expensive massage oils, it was hard to regret giving in to Alice's designs.

I set down the trunk and returned to the wide living room where Alice had pulled open the heavy curtains and was gazing out at the sparkling lights and beautiful avenue of the Champs Elysée. I came to stand right behind her, wrapping my strong arms around her tiny waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. I kissed her earlobe delicately.

"Mmm," she sighed, apparently completely contented.

"Ok, so one night in Paris isn't a terrible idea," I conceded, breathing the words softly into her ear. She turned her head so our faces were an inch apart.

"Why would you ever doubt me?" she smiled coyly, reaching her right hand up to caress my cheek. I leaned in the inch so our lips met, softly at first, but building in intensity as she turned her entire body to face me and pressed her petite frame against mine. The hints of lace and satin had left me very ready for this moment, and our kiss became more urgent as Alice caught up to my mood. I doubted she'd been very far off. Though my muscles didn't get tired or sore, it was always rather inconvenient having to crane my neck and back down to reach her. With one deft movement I lifted her up so her legs were encircling my waist and our faces were even.

Alice's back was against the thick glass of the window, so I was able to release my left hand from under her leg and begin running my fingers down her face, her throat, her collarbone. She scratched her nails lightly down my back, finding the bottom of the pale blue sweater and pulling it up toward my head. I smiled as I realized her intention and extricated my arms and lips from her long enough to allow her to pull the sweater off. She dropped it to the floor and continued tracing her nails up and down my back. My breath came faster, the knot in my stomach tightening. I pressed my mouth harder to hers, parting her lips with mine, biting her bottom lip very softly with my teeth. I traced the silhouette of her body from her shoulder to her waist, brushing my hand across her flat stomach, her thigh, her hip. When her scratching became a little less restrained I moved my hand to her hair and grasped a thick fistful. I tugged a little harder than was strictly necessary, and Alice's head bent back as a gasp escaped her perfect mouth. I ran my lips down the length of her neck, and, holding her tightly around the waist, moved to the immense rose-petaled bed. Our lips did not part as I maneuvered -- rather impressively actually, as all my focus was on Alice -- through the living room and past the double doors of the Master bedroom. I thought fleetingly about the wasted lingerie lying unmodeled in the steamer trunk, but there was no way either of us was going to wait to unpack it. Besides, I thought, as I laid my little angel softly upon the petals and thick brocade comforter, there was always later. It wasn't like we needed time to sleep...

* * * *

It wasn't until I heard the soft rap on the door that I realized it must be morning and we had both forgotten to place the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door. In a flash I had pulled up the khaki pants that were strewn in the corner of the room, shut the living room curtains tightly, and was pulling the door open the slightest crack to refuse the maid service. I hoped Alice wasn't following my example and getting dressed, although if that last lacy number was any indication of what she had brought, I wouldn't mind another fashion show.

As I sauntered back into the bedroom I grinned broadly and crawled on hands and knees across the bed to kiss my wife good morning. Alice was sitting up with her knees against her chest and the thin lavender sheets pulled up under her arms. Her hair was more ruffled than she would ever have allowed it to be, if she had noticed, and it was absolutely adorable.

"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Whitlock," I said, leaning over her and pressing my mouth to hers. She smiled her heart-breaking, breath-stopping smile. Brilliant. We didn't often use the surname Whitlock, but if this had been a regular marriage, a regular anniversary, that would be her name. Alice Whitlock. I beamed a little broader at the sound of her name in my head.

"Happy anniversary, Mr. Whitlock," she answered, snuggling down into the covers and resting her head on the pillow. A thought seemed to occur to her and she frowned slightly, like the baby girl I had pictured with a smudge on her dress. "We missed the Seine by lamplight."

I chuckled softly and turned to lie next to her, looping my arm under her shoulders. I traced the pale satin skin up and down her upper arm with my fingers -- the sensation was incredible. Touching Alice was like stroking the most perfect crystal, smooth and flawless -- a crystal infused with an electric current that sent shocks and shivers of ecstasy down my body, from my fingers to my toes, coming back to knot in the pit of my stomach.

"Yes, I suppose we got a bit carried away."

She smiled again, flashing her brilliant teeth, and her brow smoothed. She nuzzled into me, resting her head and hand upon my bare chest. Thrills of electricity coursed through my body. I stroked her hair with the hand that encircled her shoulders. Alice brushed her lips against my chest and sighed contentedly.

"Oh well. The Seine could never have compared to this, anyway."

I had to agree. There was no beauty on earth that compared to the glorious little angel in my arms right now. I looked over at her flawless form. Her eyes were closed, her lids a soft lavender, only a few shades lighter than her lips. The thin sheet wrapped around her soft body didn't hide much -- it clung to her perfect silhouette in a rather enticing way.

"So when is check-out?" I asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Alice glanced at the clock and grinned, more imp than angel now.

"Oh, we have a good three hours," she giggled, her voice chiming silver.

"Will that be enough time?" I wondered mischievously.

"I guess we'll have to make due," she said, rolling over so she was above me. The thin sheet fell away at the movement, and suddenly time and space and everything in the world but Alice's lips and skin and scent and breath disappeared. It was hard to care if they ever returned. This was enough.