It's time, it's time! Halloween for Bella and Jasper! So, as usual, everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I just like to play with the characters. Beta-ing done by the wonderful EdwardsMate4Ever.

(Sweet Jasper)

Band Practice (Jasper's POV) – Chapter 3

As soon as we're through the door, instead of getting away from the other teenagers, we are confronted with a group of young males. And they are all eyeing my lady with interest. Worse, I can feel something coming from her. I glance over to see her smile. Not flirtatious. Something else.

My girl has depth. I suppress the snarl that's building inside and hustle her around the group. I can sense them staring at us as we walk off.

It' only a few hundred yards before we hit the main street. I catch Emmett's eye and I gesture that I'll be back. He starts the van and follows anyway.

We reach the highway and she turns toward a restaurant. I can smell the sickening odor of human food being fried but she isn't hungry. We head toward a darkened area, a park.

A park that features a long, black train locomotive, ensconced under a wooden awning, at the front.

How weird. As we pause to look at it, I can feel my lady's awkwardness spike, but she's about to say something, so I wait.

"So, my name's Bella. What's yours?" she asks.

I'm so hung up listening to the sweet tone of her voice that I don't answer right away. She stares at me. "Oh, sorry," I say. "I'm Jasper."

"Where are you from?"

What a loaded question. I've lived so many places, so many times. "Most recently, Alaska."

"Alaska?" she says. I can feel curiosity percolating through her nervousness.

"Lots of wildlife up there," I tell her. "Not a lot of people. I like it here."

She stays silent.

"I'm guessing you don't," I add.

She blushes and almost stammers out her reply. "It's small. You can walk from one end to the other. No jobs, nothing much to do."

Ah. Boredom, the teenage curse. Trying living stag for a hundred fifty odd years.

We have successfully circumnavigated the locomotive and we're now into the park. I glance across the open field and don't see anyone else, so I guide her to a bench. We sit and watch the light recede from behind the tree line as twilight fades into dusk.

I reach out to touch her hair. So soft under my fingers. "This small town probably seems limiting to you," I whisper, "but right now, it seems the most wonderful place in the world."

She turns and I feel as well as see in her eyes that she believes me. I could feel her reaching for me inside.

I lean forward and touch my lips to her cheek, gauging her reaction to my stony-ness. She starts, but I pull her closer and touch her lips with mine.

Her heart is pounding as she slips her arms around my neck and pulls me closer. I could feel her inhaling my scent. Does she recognize it as her mate's?

We kiss, and I nuzzle my way down her neck. Her pulse is aching beneath my touch and she moans. I pause just above it, longing to break the fragile skin and let that blood into my mouth, but her moan brings forth an unexpected reaction from me. A purr.

I have never purred, though I had heard others purr in the presence of their mates. It felt amazing.

My hands slip down her side to her thigh. It felt good just touching her on the outside of her jeans, nothing too intense in this open space. Just feeling that she was getting comfortable with me.

I could tell she felt awkward, though I didn't know why. Female modesty, maybe? It was such a public place. I would take her somewhere else, but I didn't want to break the moment.

For that, as it turns out, I was about to have unwanted help.

A car drives by, and a few boys whoop at us out the window. I have to suppress a growl.

My beauty pulls back, embarrassed.

"Guess I got a little carried away," I say. I stand and hold out my hand to her. When she tries to stand, her legs are so unsteady she falls back onto the bench on her soft little butt. Adorable.

I laugh despite myself and sit back down next to her, reaching for her hand. "The feeling is mutual."

She blushes. "But you stood up," she declares indignantly.

I smile, lean forward and touch her hair, finger-combing it, luxuriating in its soft waves. I would never get tired of touching her. She would get over her embarrassment in a few seconds and we could continue….Nope.

"Guess we should be going back," she says as she stands up. No wobble this time.

Damn. "If you say so," I say, standing myself. But I could still feel a reluctance in her, so I lean down for a kiss and…

"Wait, it's a dance," she states. "I don't have a dress."

Dress? I'm thinking of taking off her denim vest and she's talking about a dress? Play it cool. "Neither do I," I say, striving for a husky voice while leaning in to nuzzle her behind her ear. Oh, the sound of that blood pumping through her veins. Must be careful, she's so fragile in this human form.

"Silly, you wouldn't wear a dress." She giggles, pushing at my chest.

Wait. She's shoving me back? Don't growl. "What should I wear?" I ask.

"You're in the band. Isn't that what you're going to wear on stage?"

I must look confused, because she continues. "What you have on?"

The band. The guitar. "Right," I say. I hear Emmett snorting in the van and I resist shooting him a glare.

"Well, let's go back," she says.

I scratch my head. Should I just hustle her into the van and take off? One look at her trusting face tells me no. I remember, how could I not, after all the time I've spent in high school? This is her night, after all. Her dance. It's an important part of her human life. I need to dance with her.

The walk back to the school only takes a few minutes. As we approach, I look again at the school. The front is lit up and the parking lot filled with cars and…a rush of human scent. Young and mouthwatering. Some of the children are wearing ball gowns while their escorts are awkwardly sporting cheap suits or rented tuxes. Others are looking relaxed in jeans and hoodies.

The mingled scents of tobacco, marijuana, beer and cheap perfume begin to assault me as we get closer. But rising above it all is the sound of laughter and a feeling of happiness. Girls walk past us, their hair put up in weird arrangements, struggling for sophistication. Some apprehension, some darker feelings, but mostly I'm feeling the joy and excitement of being a human teenager.

For a moment I feel a twinge of regret for what I'm about to do. What right have I to take her away from this? Then I remember the feelings I've been picking up from her. Unworthiness. Loneliness. And once she saw me, shy joy. She isn't happy here.

She is meant to be with me. I feel stronger, but also protective.

She should have her dance.

XX

So, Jasper's POV! Hope you're enjoying the story so far.

I really appreciate all of the support I've received for the story this year. My thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited or alerted the story.

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