A/N: I don't own anything except Sage, Michael, and the plot.

As mentioned, this story is rated M for a reason. It has adult themes, situations, and lemons. If you are not at least 18 years old, please don't read.

As always, thanks so very much to RemyKilday for pre-reading.

Heap big thanks to my Schwoogie-Muffin, HammerHips, for making me scream her name in every bathroom stall east of the Mississippi

Chapter 20: Building A Mystery

You're so beautiful
With an edge and charm
but so careful
When I'm in your arms
Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

-"Building A Mystery" by Sarah McLachlan

Jasper POV

The drive to Napa seemed to take forever. In fairness, had it just been Sage and I, it probably would've gone better for me; even if Alice had been with us, it would've been better.

Instead, I was forced to watch Sage and Michael huddled together in the back of the cab, each reading a book. Occasionally, he would kiss the top of her head or she'd reach up and scratch his scalp, but for the most part, they were silent and barely moved.

Had I been the casual observer, I would have probably thought the scene was sweet. Instead, with my muddled feelings for Sage as they were, I wanted to horsewhip Michael.

But I didn't.

Because that would be wrong.

And because Sage wasn't mine.

And she'd kill me for going Caveman.

He was really sweet with her and I could tell he cared, but there was this underlying sadness I couldn't put my finger on. But all of that still didn't stop me from wanting to remove his arm from around her shoulders, force him to keep his mouth off her, keep his eyes from watching her every move.

When we pulled up, Peter and Charlotte were waiting for us on the porch swing. Just like always, Sage flew out of the truck to hug Char, but this time, when she was done, Peter grabbed her in a hug and then tucked her into his side.

"That the Power Tool?" he asked me, nodding at Michael. I couldn't help but smirk at that.

"His name," Sage ground out. "is Michael." She jabbed her finger into Peter's side, forcing him to let her go and then she hopped down the steps and wrapped her arms around Michael's hips, hugging him tightly.

"That's right." Char smiled sweetly. Obviously Sage had been confiding in someone, even if it wasn't me. She stepped down off the porch and hugged Michael. "I'm Charlotte, but friends call me Char. Welcome… and please let me look at your tattoo."

Sage snickered. "Char has a tattoo addiction… looking more than getting."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I've heard nothing but plans to get a look at that fuckin' tattoo for two solid weeks. Hope it's worth the hype." He grumbled.

He smiled. "I'm sure we can find the time."

"Awesome… let's get them settled. Sage, you need to bust Diablo out and run him around a bit. I mighta… spurred him a little and he's not really happy with me."

She scowled. "Quit spurring my horse or I'll spur you and Char can forget about kids." She grabbed her bag from the truck and we followed suit.

As soon as we were inside, Peter pointed to Michael and then to the couch. "No fornication or funny business in this house."

Sage poked her head out of her room. "Peter! I stay the night at his apartment at least once a week!"

"I don't give a shit! No funny business!"

She padded back out to us. "I don't think any of it would be funny compared to that one time at the club, Schwoogie—" I grabbed her and clapped a hand over her mouth so that the rest was muffled. She tried to pry my fingers off but I kept them there.

"I have to agree with Pete… it's one thing if you're staying at Mike's, but if Emmett knew Peter and I willingly let you bunk together, he'd castrate us… and I like my nads."

I let go of her mouth and she glared between us, an eyebrow raised. I could tell she knew we were conspiring against her, but she didn't say it. "Fine." She sighed.

"And that means no sneaking out here or sneaking him in during the night." Peter qualified. "Because Jasper's a light sleeper so he'll hear you if you leave your room… and I sleep with a sawed-off under the bed, and I'd hate to shoot your Power Tool in the battery pack."

She glared at Peter and then I caught her give Charlotte a look. "Char, I forgot to tell you about this website I found—"

"NO MORE TOYS!" Peter yelled, eliciting giggles from the girls.

"Has he found the clitoris yet?"

Charlotte snickered. "Once. About three weeks ago. He was so proud of himself."

"And on that note, I'm going to get settled." I said.

I took an hour to settle in and rest and collect my thoughts and when I went back out, everyone was out in the large ring. Sage and Diablo were racing Char and her Arabian, Destin, around the ring. Peter and Michael were sitting on the fence watching, smiles on their faces.

"Jump him! Jump him!" Peter was yelling to Sage.

Diablo skidded to a halt in front of them just as I made it to the fence. "I haven't jumped a horse in years. I don't think now's the time to be testing whether or not he's trained. Have you even jumped him on a lead?"

Peter shrugged. "Not really. Guess I'll start." He sighed and patted Diablo's flank. "You do need to start breaking him into the English saddle. You wait too long, we'll never get him trained up enough that you can pick and choose how you want to ride."

Sage shrugged. "I'm OK with sticking with Western. English is too involved."

"Yeah, she's a cowgirl at heart." Char smirked as she skidded to stop next to Sage.

"Shame for us though." Peter sighed dramatically. "Her ass looks amazing in those ridin' breeches."

Sage smirked. "Look at it this way… you have a higher likelihood of seeing me in leather chaps." All three of us shifted uncomfortably and I could tell Pete and Michael were adjusting just as much as I was. "Yeah, that's what I thought." She stuck out her tongue and kicked Diablo into a canter.

"Well," Peter sighed. "I guess we'll get ourselves saddled up. Michael, you ever ridden?"

Michael blushed. "Once… many, many years ago… and never again. You guys go ahead. I'm fine right here." He smiled and leaned against the fence, his eyes fixed on Sage as she and Diablo kicked up a dust storm throughout the ring.

We all rode around for several hours, though Sage eventually stabled Diablo and went to shower and spend time with Michael. When we returned to the house, they were reading on the couch, Sage curled into Michael's side.

And those violent urges of mine just wouldn't go away.

Peter cleared his throat and snapped me out of my jealousy-induced haze enough that I was able to go get showered and changed. When I was done, he knocked on my door and entered before I answered.

"What do you want?" I growled as I stuffed my dirty clothes in a laundry bag.

Peter rolled his eyes and leant up against the chest of drawers, his arms crossed. "You're not helpin' yourself by gettin' riled up."

"And what's that mean?" I challenged.

He rolled his eyes again. "I mean that he's not permanent. He's just here for now." He sighed and cocked his head to the side, studying me. "You've just gotta suffer through."

I snorted. "For how much longer?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Not long."

I shook my head. "A minute is too long."

Peter sighed again. "Suffer through. Don't be an ass. You'll just make her cling to him tighter."

So I suffered through dinner and Peter and Char's interrogation of Michael. Had he been dating anyone else, he'd have passed the test, but he was dating Sage and he summarily failed. At least by Peter's standards, he failed as well. Charlotte was being so nice it was hard to tell if she was on my side or not.

We all went to bed fairly early. I swore I could hear Sage talking, but when I checked the couch, Michael was dead asleep, so I assumed she was simply talking in her sleep. I'd heard her mumbling for months. I remembered that it took me by surprise when she'd started because she hadn't done it prior to Christmas.

The next morning, however, she was bright-eyed as she sipped her coffee and teasingly fought over the newspaper with Michael.

My eyes narrowed though as I noticed Sage's lips were swollen and slightly bruised. She caught me looking and blinked at me innocently.

"What's the plan for the day?" I asked as I poured some coffee for myself.

"Swimming." Charlotte answered. "Maybe some Poker later."

I felt my cheeks flush. I remembered all too well what happened the last time I'd played Poker… and what had happened after. I doubted there was a chance of a repeat performance, given the current company.

When Sage left the table to go get ready, I immediately followed her and yanked her into my room.

"What?" she whisper-yelled.

I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. "What the hell were you doing last night?"

"Oh calm down, Jasper!" she huffed. "We just fooled around a little bit."

"Fooled around?" I demanded.

She rolled her eyes. "We made out, OK? We were bored, neither of us were tired, so I snuck out and we watched TV and made out for a while. Nothing else."

She wasn't lying. I could tell. For one thing, she was completely unabashed at being found out.

Swift kick in the ego, right there!

And then a thought struck me. "What were you dreaming about last night?"

She blanched. "What are you talking about?"

"You were talking in your sleep last night… you've been doing it for months."

She sighed. "It's nothing. Just… stress."

I nodded. I didn't want to fight with her, so I wasn't going to push.

Sage and Michael sat in the bed of the truck when we drove down to the lake, laughing and talking easily.

And again with the violent urges…

As soon as we were set up, Charlotte was bouncing on the balls of her feet, waiting for Michael to peel off his shirt and expose the rest of the tattoo. He didn't disappoint her. She immediately began tracing outlines, studying, commenting on the skill. It made Sage snicker as Charlotte essentially felt Michael up.

"Look at this! Look! It's gorgeous! And is that Saint Peter there on your shoulder? How long did it take?" the questions went on and on and on until finally…

"Baby, do you think maybe you could… I dunno… put your hands to better use?" Peter scowled at her, obviously jealous of the attention she was directing at someone other than him.

"Peter, don't be an ass." Charlotte brushed him off easily.

"I'm not!" he cried, forcing Sage to fully laugh.

"Here, how about I help with that, Petey?" she asked, moving to slide herself between Charlotte and Michael.

"Thank fuck." He grumbled. "Hey! Chicken fight?"

"No!" Sage and Charlotte yelled together.

Peter looked utterly deflated.

"I don't know Michael well enough to flash him." Charlotte explained.

"And Peter's seen mine once and that's once too many."

Michael immediately wrapped an arm around Sage's waist and pulled her back to his chest. Leaning down, he placed a quick kiss on her neck and asked, "Should I be jealous?"

She shook her head. "It was for the sake of winning… you know, take one for the team."

"Ah… so that's a yes." He teased, kissing her cheek.

We swam for a few hours before settling in on the dock to eat the lunch Char had packed for us. Peter gave me a wink as he passed out Hostess cupcakes and I knew he knew where it would lead.

Weird fucker…

I immediately waved mine at Sage and she nodded, immediately opening hers. I quickly and efficiently peeled the cupcake away from the sugared frosting and handed the topping to her. She handed me her cupcake and I repeated the process.

"You two are weird." Charlotte deadpanned as she watched us. "What the hell?"

"I don't like the frosting." I explained. "It's too sugary."

"And I don't like the cupcake. Too spongy." Sage added. "So we sorta trade up." she smiled and happily ate the disgusting frosting.

Charlotte nodded. "Weird."

"The worst part is that they actually have it down to a process." Peter mumbled.

I noticed that Michael's hand immediately went to Sage's bare thigh, resting lightly, but I could tell our little quirk had upset him. She was sitting between his legs, resting against his chest. He didn't need any more confirmation that she was with him. But I got under his skin. He wasn't nearly as secure as he was playing it off, not nearly as calm and collected as he was letting her believe. And when he met my eyes, he as good as told me. I simply smiled.

We continued swimming on into the afternoon and it seemed my jealousy rose with the heat. He was always touching her, holding her, and at one point, he wrapped an arm around her waist and swam backwards with her, just going along lazily. I remembered getting chastised for doing that.

To make matters worse, I was wholly aware that I had to keep my shirt on. It wasn't as if I could act like Peter and show off the muscles I worked hard to maintain, or Michael with the extensive tattoo to add shading and contouring, even though he didn't need it. The scars were too much, and I'd never pick now to be the time to tell Sage about them. It only served to make me self-conscious, though Peter kept shooting me looks as though to say Stop thinking like that.

I did my best to keep my cool for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, though I almost lost my shit when we started playing Poker. Of course, instead of sitting on my lap, she was sitting on Michael's, and actively participating in the game this time.

Halfway through, Peter began pouring drinks and immediately pulled out a bottle of Mama Juana.

"No thanks, Pete." Sage called.

"You're not drinking with us?"

"I'll take a glass of wine. I don't drink hard liquor anymore… especially not Mama Juana."

Peter frowned. "Why not?"

She cut the deck as Michael shuffled and smiled. "Because the last time I had that stuff was when we went dancing… and I lost a lot of time… you know, I wasn't expecting it to pack that much of a punch." He nodded. "And Jasper still refuses to fill me in on what exactly I missed, so I figure it's just better not to drink it and then I don't have to worry about what he's hiding."

Ah. Moneyshot!

That could be a part of the reason for the Joan Collins' 'Tude.

I settled for concentrating on my beer, but it didn't escape me that Michael was giving me a long, hard look, as though trying to read my mind and discover what Sage so badly wanted to know… except he already had an idea of what it was.

We played for several hours into the night, finally stopping as Sage slumped against Michael's chest, completely zonked out.

"Here, I'll get her in bed." I sighed, tossing down my cards as Peter presented a straight.

Michael shook his head. "Thanks, Jasper, but I think I've got her."

There was so much in that one sentence, I didn't know where to begin. I heard Peter chuckling to himself, though he made it seem as though he was giddy over winning. He and I both knew what he was implying: Mine. Not yours. Mine. She's with me now. We stared each other down for several long minutes before Char cleared her throat.

"Michael, how about I help you out, you know? Turn down the covers and whatnot."

He nodded quietly. "Thank you, Charlotte." He adjusted Sage in his arms and lifted her easily, mindful to support her head against his shoulder. She mumbled something too low to discern and he smiled and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "It's OK, Babe. We're getting you in bed." He murmured quietly.

I groaned. "I'm going to bed. I'm done."

"Just for the night." Peter mumbled. "Remember, he's not permanent."

I rolled my eyes. "Right." And I padded down the hall. I chanced a glance into Sage's room as I passed and saw Michael pulling the covers over her and kissing her forehead again. He whispered something I couldn't hear as I passed and then I heard him come back out into the hall. "Night." I mumbled over my shoulder at him.

"Night." He answered.

I laid in bed, but I didn't sleep. Things had gone so completely sideways in less than a year of being home, and the dormant part of my brain that harbored a crush on Sage had somehow infected and taken over the rest of my mind. Now, I was finding it nearly impossible to be simply her friend; I was forced to watch her with another man and the only reassurance I had was from a cocky half-wit who just knew shit. Peter's words, not mine.

I was almost asleep, but then the screaming started.

"JAZZ! JASPER! JASPER!"

I flew out of bed and out into the hall; my first suspicion was false. Michael was scrambling off the couch, apparently taken by surprise. I forced the bedroom door open and forced myself to breathe.

Sage was thrashing uncontrollably, screaming, struggling against unknown hands. I climbed into the bed and scooped her up. "Sage, Sweetie, I'm here. I'm here! Darlin', wake up, please!"

Her eyes sprang open and recognition dawned on her face, but her breathing picked up and she was panicking, struggling. "Jazz! Jazz he's gonna get me, I have to—"

"Darlin', no! No one's gonna…" I trailed off, my brow furrowed. I glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious, and then asked, "Who?"

The further into the waking world she came, the more she settled, and her labored breathing slowed and evened out. "R-Royce." She muttered, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.

Michael moved to grab the phone but I shook my head. "Her breathing's fine… she's fine… maybe this is what she needs."

"How is passing out what she needs?" he murmured and I could hear a mixture of anger and hurt in his voice. I wondered idly which was connected to the fact that she'd called out for me and not him.

"It might help her process. Sage is a funny girl. She processes things differently. One minute she'll watch and listen, the next she's right in the action." I muttered quietly, stroking her hair. "I'll sit with her for a bit, make sure her breathing stays OK, and we'll go from there."

He nodded, but he was seething. "I see. And why are you the one staying with her?" he asked.

I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw cracked. "Michael, some things are not about the one she's with being with her. Sometimes it's about the one who knows her best being with her."

Oh, look, you can see him go red, even in the dark!

Is he gonna yell?

Nah.

He simply nodded, turned on his heel, and stormed back down the hall.

I leaned back against the headboard and shifted Sage so that she was lying on her side with her head on my chest. I sighed, stroked her hair, and kissed her forehead, waiting several long minutes. When I was satisfied that she had gone from passed out into sleep, I slid out from under her and left, leaving the door open a crack.

I padded out to the kitchen to find Michael leaning with his elbows on the counter, his head down, while the coffee maker hummed and popped.

"She's asleep." I sighed. He simply nodded.

"Peter and Charlotte came down to see what the commotion was about. I sent them back to bed." He said lamely.

"That was a night terror." He nodded again. "I hadn't realized she'd been having them… but shit's startin' to fall into place now that I know."

He straightened up suddenly and turned to face me. "How did you not know?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked dumbly. His face was impassive, calculating, and it unnerved me.

"I mean that I've spent one, maybe two nights a week with her for the past few weeks and I knew something wasn't right. So again I ask, how did you not know?"

"You knew?"

He shrugged. "She's got a process in place. She hugs a pillow to her chest, buries her face in it before she falls asleep… but with two people in the bed, she doesn't really have the room she needs to curl in on herself." He sighed. "She's never screamed before… just a lot of incoherent mumbling… every now and again a word."

"What kind of words?"

He shrugged again. "Killed… hurt… please don't." I winced. "Normally, I just hold her and she calms down." He went on. "She's certainly never called out for you before." He spat that last bit and I knew he was hurt by it.

"I'm her Great Protector. Did you honestly think she'd yell for you after only a few months?" his expression answered that.

"What happened that night she lost time?" he asked suddenly.

I blushed. I hadn't expected that. I cleared my throat and grabbed a mug from the cabinet, turning to fill it so that he couldn't see my face. "You know the answer to that."

"No, actually, I don't. There are so many ways it could go, I can't get my head around it, so why don't you educate me?"

I sighed and turned. "We kissed." I answered. "Once." He nodded, his face impassive again. "That it?"

"Why haven't you told her?"

"Because I wanted her to remember it on her own. Are you getting a kick out of this? You've got her. Why do you need to know?" I ground out.

"Because I don't have her… not fully… not the way I want. There's this part of her that's always with you." My brow furrowed and he sighed and continued. "There are times where we sit and read, or watch a movie, and I wonder if right then, she's wishing I were you. Sometimes, when I kiss her, she tenses… usually when her fingers run over my arms because the tattoo is still relatively fresh… it's like an alarm that I'm not who I'm supposed to be." He seemed almost broken as he told me this. "But some part of her does want to be with me… otherwise she wouldn't. I know her well enough for that. And you should know… I'm selfish enough to keep her until she tells me she doesn't want me anymore."

"Why would you stay though?" my voice was hoarse.

He smirked and his eyes shown with great sadness. "You love her too. Can you honestly blame me for not wanting to give her up?"

I considered him for a long while. I truly believed he loved Sage. Yes, I could see it in how he looked at her; how he was always so caring and attentive; how he seemed to adjust as she moved, always trying to keep her close, as though he might die if he wasn't touching her. It was like watching myself with her.

For once, Michael and I had something completely in common.

Who'd of thought?

"No," I said finally. "I guess I can't blame you."

We both glanced at the hallway as the soft pattering of feet announced Sage's intrusion into our conversation. We both smiled as innocently as possible, given that we'd just been talking about her behind her back.

"Hey, Babe." Michael sighed. She shuffled over to him immediately, stepping into his embrace and wrapping her arms around his hips. He ran his fingers through her hair, smiling. "You ready to get up?" she shook her head. "Want me to come lay with you?" she nodded, turned, and started back toward her room with him in tow.

He cast me an apologetic look, though I could also see he was happy and relieved that she'd come for him. I guessed he was also happy that he'd gotten her non-verbal communication, but I knew better. She hadn't come for him for her own benefit. She felt horrible for having yelled for me and was trying to make him feel better. And I'd let her. Because I knew how he felt.

Sage POV

I felt horrible. Physically and emotionally wrecked.

My dreams had never been so vivid before, and sadly, sickeningly, I knew the reason.

They'd started the night we found out Royce had gotten parole. I'm not sure if it was Jasper's upset reaction, or his insistence that nothing would ever happen to me, or a combination of the two coupled with my own imagination, but I'd dreamed of a faceless man attacking me for months.

And then Royce showed up on our doorstep.

And suddenly the man in my dreams had a face. He was more violent. And my dreams were filled with shattering glass and Rosalie's and my screams intermingled.

Usually, I was able to wake myself up with the moaning and whimpering. I'd never screamed before, but the dreams had never been so bad before. I'd never gotten as far in the dream as I had that night, and in my panic, I'd called out for the person I knew would always protect me.

And I'd inadvertently hurt Michael's feelings in the process.

When I finally crawled out of bed and out of Michael's arms around two PM, Jasper had a fresh pot of coffee waiting for me. I sat down at the table as he poured me a cup and then he joined me.

"Talk to me, Sage." He whispered. "How long's this been going on?" I shrugged. "Don't lie to me. You know when it started."

I drew in a shuddering breath. "Around the time Royce got parole…" I murmured, glancing up just in time to catch Michael just come into view in the doorway. He quickly backed up, but I could tell he'd stopped just beyond the doorframe, lingering out of sight.

"What got to you last night?" I shrugged. "Sage…" he warned.

Tears were trickling down my cheeks. "Rose likes to talk every now and again." I muttered, turning my eyes to my coffee mug.

"Rose likes to talk about what?" The heat rose in my cheeks and he drew in a sharp breath. "Oh." I could tell he was trying to steady his breathing. "Please tell me Rose didn't give you gory details." I didn't say anything. "Sage?"

"You said not to tell you." I replied quietly, jumping slightly as his palm collided with the table.

"Jasper…" Michael warned, stepping around the corner.

"I'm fine, Michael." I murmured. "Jasper's just upset with Rosalie." I tried to smile reassuringly, but Michael was watching me carefully.

"When?" Jasper asked.

"Thursday night. While you were at work."

"How is it I didn't know about this?"

I sighed. "Because she doesn't like talking about it when you and Emmett can hear. You get upset, Emmett gets angry…" I was mumbling miserably.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?" he cried.

I cocked my head to the side. "Things haven't exactly been good between us, Jas." He grimaced. "When was I gonna tell you? Between trading jabs at each others' significant others or when we were just plain ignoring each other?"

Michael shifted uncomfortably. "Why didn't you tell me, Babe?"

I wiped my eyes. "Because it's not my story to tell, Mike." I sighed, but gave Jasper a wry smile. "We have a rule in our house. If it's not yours to tell, you keep your mouth shut."

Jasper smiled sadly and pulled me into a hug, setting me on his lap. "It's a shitty rule right about now though, Darlin'. I wish you'd at least told Michael." He muttered into my hair. I relaxed into his embrace. I'd missed this. This was part of my relationship with Jasper that nothing could ever replace. This comfort, physical and emotional, was something we'd have no matter how much we fought.

But it made me sad to see Michael's face as I settled into my comfort. Sad, almost broken, but he gave me a reassuring smile.

"I think I want to go lay back down." I murmured.

"Alright." He sighed, releasing me.

I smiled at Michael and took his hand. "Lay with me?"

He smiled back, kissing the top of my head. "Anything for you, Beautiful." He wrapped an arm around me and led me back to my room.

I crawled under the covers and he followed suit, spooning me, wrapping his arms around me protectively. Eventually, I sighed and turned in his arms, snuggling against his bare chest.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked confusedly.

"Everything… I'm a mess… and then with Jasper… I know it makes you uncomfortable."

He stiffened, but began rubbing slow circles across my back. "Babe, I'd rather watch you with Jasper nonstop than have you torture yourself in your sleep. Don't ever internalize like that again. If you can't tell me, at least tell him. You mean the world to us and if you can't talk to me, it's important that you talk to him." He kissed my hair. "Promise me, please?"

"I promise." I sighed. I kissed his chest and felt his arms tighten around me.

As I drifted off, I almost swore I heard him whisper, "I love you."

End Note: Leave me a review and I'll send you a teaser for the next chapter