Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight universe. The title of this chapter and opening quote belong to A Fine Frenzy.

Synopsis: A look at the differences between Alice and Jasper.

"Help me out said the minnow to the trout. I was lost and found myself swimming in your mouth. Help me chief, I've got plans for you and me." - The Minnow & The Trout by A Fine Frenzy

The Minnow & The Trout

She knows what people think.

They think Alice and Jasper's differences are profound, that they work in spite of them. They see only the problems, only those things that should cause conflict. They see tall and short, big and little, surly and cheerful, introvert and extrovert, flawed and flawless, saved and savior.

They see the things that Alice and Jasper never have. They see the things that Alice and Jasper let them see. She knows that people shake their heads, that they cluck their tongues. She knows that people don't really understand.

He took her hand.

In a half empty diner, she held her hand out and he took it. Her hand was thin and pale. Every tiny bone was clearly evident through deceptively fragile skin. His hand was long of finger, wide of palm. Scars crissed and crossed from wrist to fingertip. Jasper took her hand without a thought. He wrapped his long hand around her tiny one, cocooning it in his loose grasp.

She stared down at the hand that was so different from hers and sighed at the rightness of it all. Her hand felt warm and strong with his surrounding it, with his cradling hers. The gesture was so simple, so mundane. And yet, she felt like her hand was made to be held by his, as if it had never fulfilled its purpose until he took it.

Later they would learn that his hand could span the width of her back, that the fingers of both hands could wrap around the circumference of her waist. They would learn that her hand could perfectly nestle between the scars on his hip. They would learn that her fingers could thread comfortably through his, that their hands, big and small, fit together.

He held her close.

Jasper had this way of engulfing her, of turning their difference in heights into a positive. From the first time he hugged her, they realized that their bodies were like intricate puzzle pieces. Her head fit easily in the groove of his chest. Her hands settled at the small of his back. He bent his head down, resting his cheek on her head, letting honey-blond and inky black thread together. His arms wrapped around her, squeezing until she felt breathless. It seemed that every muscle in her body was right where it belonged, nestled against his, the hills and valleys of her frame aligned perfectly to the hard ridges and smooth plains of his.

It was the safest she ever felt. She was strong and capable, but in his arms, she felt untouchable. She felt like they were one being, like her fears were his, like her insecurities were shared, like she had someone, finally, to lean on.

He spoke.

They had their own language, right from the start. Looks and touches said more than words ever could. But they had words. Long conversations filled their sleepless nights. In private they discussed every thought, every feeling, every memory. They learned the intricacies of each other and in learning those intricacies, those little details, words became less and less important. He didn't need to shout his love, not when the lightest of touches to her face would say more than the inadequate word ever could.

It was the most exciting thing to her, learning what a look meant, what a touch meant. She might like to talk and laugh. She might like to fill the silences with words and hear all of his stories but she couldn't think of anything better than knowing what he was thinking, than glancing over and reading the most minute change in his expression.

Edward told her once that his thoughts were an interesting mixture of the deeply analytical and the hopelessly in love. Every thought, no matter how indirect, was for Alice. So a touch was never just a touch and a look was never just a look. It was his way of shouting, his way of filling the silences.

He laughed.

It was the most extreme of misperceptions. Alice was happy and Jasper was surly. Alice was fun and Jasper was brooding. It could be true. There were moments where the perception was exactly right, where Alice was happy and Jasper was surly. But no one seemed to realize that there wasn't anyone that made Alice laugh quite like Jasper. His sense of humor was wicked and his jokes were often all the more shocking because they were disguised by all of that slow southern charm.

His smile was nearly always slow to unfurl. Whether the smile was soft and gentle or teasing and mischievous, it always made his whole face light up. It always relaxed his tense muscles and drew out her own smile. When he laughed, it often started as a deep rumble, as a sound from somewhere low in his chest. She prided herself on her ability to make him laugh on the worst of days.

There had been days in their past when he couldn't laugh, where the pain of his lust for human blood had frozen that ability. But once he got to the other side of those torturous months, she had only to invoke some private joke to see him throw his head back and laugh, to hear that surprising sound burst forth. She laughed with him, neither sure which of them was supposed to be the happy one.

He saved her.

Alice pulled him up, again and again. She stood with him, never doubting his abilities, never doubting his capacity for self-control. She protected him, preventing him from becoming the monster he was so sure he already was. And maybe she saved him, maybe reaching out her hand in that diner saved him. Maybe she saved him again with each kiss, with each touch, with each smile.

But, she had dark moments, moments when her visions overwhelmed her, moments when all the darkness of her past washed over her in one dizzying wave. And in those moments, he pulled her close, those intricate puzzle pieces fitting together to save her from her torment. He protected her, preventing her from becoming overwhelmed by all of her emotions, by all of the memories she didn't have. He protected her from enemies both seen and unseen, always aligning himself so danger would have to go through him to get to her.

They were both the saved and the saviors. They were two overprotective fools that had each other's back before their own.

She knows what people think.

They see only the differences, only the extremes. But she knows the reality. She knows that in their own way, in their own time, they have embraced their differences, never seeing them as a source of conflict or challenge. They work as a couple because of their differences, turning them into similarities, making them a part of their binding thread. In their way, they are both big and little, both saved and savior, both introvert and extrovert, both cheerful and surly. In every way, they are both loved and in love.

She knows what people think but she doesn't care and he doesn't care because in reality, they aren't that different. Differences don't matter much when a soul has found its mate.

Note: This has been a crazy busy week so that's why I didn't post on Thursday like I normally do. I promise I'll do a good old-fashioned missing moment scene soon. Sometimes I just have more fun doing these character study style pieces.

Some people ask if I write specifically for a song or if I find a song to fit what I've written. This is definitely a time where I got the idea from the song. It may seem like a strange title but it was probably my favorite song off of the One Cell in the Sea album. Check it out.

Thanks as always for the reviews and faves and PMs and alerts and recs on the last one. You guys rock!

Now, please review and I'll try to post again tomorrow!

- Brynna