Thanks to YogaGal and PerfectlyPersuasive for inviting me to join this big crazy gay family, and thanks to bmango, naelany and coolbreeeze for their help with this chapter.

oOo

Edward glanced at his watch for the twentieth time since they'd been sitting there, only to see that the numbers had scarcely changed. Night had already come and gone (not that he'd slept), and he imagined it was even light outside by now. Squirming against the hard bench, he brought a hand up to rake his fingers through his hair in a frustrated gesture, an automatic habit. The instant his fingertips met scalp, he winced, though.

"I told you, you've got to stop doing that," Jasper hissed.

Still too embarrassed by his behavior of the night before, Edward just nodded and refused to look up. Maybe he'd been drugged. Roofies? Or, more realistically, PCP? How else could he explain starting a barroom brawl over his own petty jealousy? Again. For the second time in a week.

As masochistic as ever, he gently pressed against the tender skin above his eyebrow. It was still swelling, but at least he didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. The bruise felt like it ran all the way down the side of his face, and he suspected he was going to have one hell of a shiner.

Instinctively, his gaze flicked across the room to the other figure perched there, looking miserable. And alone. Edward's torn lip smarted as he smirked, recognizing with a certain satisfaction that Riley looked a hell of a lot worse than he did. A nasty blood stain dribbled from his nose, over his chin, and the whole front of his shirt was a ghastly-looking red.

Really, Jasper had been the only one to escape relatively unscathed from the fight; his only battle wound had been a kick to the ribs from when he'd tried to pull Edward and Riley apart. Edward was ninety percent convinced that Riley had been the one to inflict that particular injury, but in the rush, it had been difficult to be completely sure. Regardless, in retaliation, Edward had broken the curator's nose. Damn if that hadn't felt good.

The adrenaline was just starting to pump through his veins again at the memory of how his fist felt, colliding with Riley's face, when Edward heard the welcome sound of footsteps on the concrete floor outside the cell, and his head whipped up. The pain that resonated through his skull was the only thing to temper his excitement when the officer stepped forward and called out, "Cullen? Whitlock?"

Headache or no, Edward leapt to his feet faster than you could say, "Get the lube." But he paused when he noticed exactly how attractive the officer was, a tight body in an even tighter uniform. Without thinking, Edward reached back for Jasper's hand, clutching it possessively as he chanced a glance at his lover's face. Fortunately, if Jasper was interested in the policeman, he gave no sign of it, and Edward forced himself to loosen his grip.

As they followed the man out of the dingy cell and on into the equally dingy hallway, Edward had to remind himself that they were past all of that. The time for fucking anything with two legs and a dick was over. Now, it was all about the two of them. Jasper and Edward. Fucking each other. And only each other. No one else.

No matter how good someone else's ass looked in a nice, tight policeman's uniform...

Jasper's hand squeezed painfully at Edward's bruised knuckles. "Eyes up," he whispered, a hint of a threat in the back of his throat.

Blushing at having been caught, Edward forced his gaze to meet that of his lover's, scrambling for a good story. "I was just looking at his handcuffs, baby. Gives me ideas, you know."

He thought Jasper mumbled something like, "Could use a damn spanking. Knock some sense into you..."

Just the idea made Edward hard. But then the officer pushed through the double door at the end of the hallway, revealing the most erection-killing sight Edward could imagine.

"Um," he croaked, coming to a stop just inside the door. "Hi, Mom."

Esme Cullen turned around, and for a second, Edward watched the expression of abject horror that spread across her face as she beheld her son and his partner. She schooled her expression quickly, but Edward could still feel the sting of her disappointment. He recalled the shame of their last conversation, when she had laid out their whole tawdry story in such plain language, forcing him to see every misstep and every wrong turn. He remembered how she'd insisted that he go slow.

Clearly, that had worked out great.

"Edward," she said stiffly before turning back to another officer seated behind the desk. "Are we free to go then?"

The man looked down at a pile of paperwork, then nodded. "Mr. Cullen and Mr. Whitlock are free to go. Unless Mr. Biers decides to press charges."

The enormity of what he had done struck Edward cold all over again. He could be facing jail time. Fines. What it could do to his career alone, the effect this would have on his ability to interact with clients. If it got out...

Jasper interrupted, "I'm sure he won't."

Edward just managed to suppress a growl. "Are you trying to imply you still have an 'in' with him?"

"Don't be stupid," the blond admonished, jabbing Edward in the ribs and finding a whole new patch of bruises. "I'm trying to say that he's just as responsible as you are."

"But I threw the—"

"Shut up," Esme hissed as she reached for her son's arm. Knowing her tone entirely too well, Edward let her lead him out of the precinct and toward her car, feeling like he was all of twelve years old again, and that he was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

Sure enough, once they were outside, his mother rounded on him, eyes flashing with unconcealed anger, her fists balled tightly at her sides. Her voice dripped ice. "Edward. Anthony. Cullen. Of all the stupid, brainless ... fucked up things you have done in your life—"

"I know, I know, Mom," he said, trying to break in, but she would have none of it.

"Why, if you hadn't already been beaten to within an inch of your life..." She raised her purse menacingly, and Edward flinched, fully expecting her to use it.

"If it helps, the other guy looks much worse..."

As Esme's purse-wielding hand twitched higher, Jasper stepped forward and put a hand on Edward's wrist, adopting a protective stance that warmed Edward's heart. "Mrs. Cullen," Jasper began.

She rounded, freezing him in place with her stare. "And you. Jasper Whitlock. I have half a mind that I should have let you rot in there, except given your track record I didn't know what miscreant you would have ended up taking home with you."

"That's not fair—"

"But," Esme continued, "Edward informed me in his phone call that the two of you are 'together' now."

Edward moved to interlock his hand with Jasper's. "That's right," he said, chin high, eyes defiant.

Under his mother's withering stare, he felt his conviction waning, his posture softening, but he forced himself to stand as tall as he could, intent on presenting a united front. There would be no chinks in his armor. No doubt.

Finally, the inspection seemed to end, and Esme sighed before pressing the button to unlock the doors of her vehicle. Turning away from them, she muttered simply, "Get in."

Part of Edward's mind wondered what had happened to his usually warm, kind, if exceedingly blunt mother. The other part kept bitch-slapping the former and reminding it that she had just hauled his stupid ass out of jail, and that she was justified in being a bit put out.

As they drove, Edward in the passenger seat and Jasper behind him, the car was filled with an uncomfortable silence, broken only when Edward stammered out quiet instructions on how to get to the bar where they had left Jasper's car the night before. When they pulled up alongside it in the empty lot, the men couldn't get the doors opened fast enough, each spilling out with unmasked haste.

Before he closed the door behind him, Edward heard his mother call his name, and he turned back to face her. "Thank you," he began, but she cut him off.

"Dinner. Tomorrow night." Her eyes moved to gaze over her son's shoulder at Jasper. "Both of you."

Cold fear struck through Edward's heart. "I'm not sure—"

"I am. Seven o'clock."

Without another word, she redirected her gaze forward and shifted the car back into drive, waiting expectantly for Edward to close the door. When he did, she wasted no time in peeling out.

"I didn't know minivans could burn rubber," Jasper said, standing in awe beside Edward.

"That because you don't know Esme Cullen." Edward turned to look at Jasper, his expression severe. "But you're about to."

"God help us all."

oOo

Sure enough, the next night Edward and Jasper stood together on the stoop outside the Cullen house, each desperately gripping at the other's hand and waiting for someone to come and let them in.

Edward had brought boyfriends here before. Specifically, he'd brought Garrett here. His mother's unvarnished assessment of his ex rang in his ears, and he swallowed hard. Realistically, he knew that his family would be reasonably polite to Jasper. But what if they had the same opinion of him as they'd had of Garrett? Would it matter? They seemed solid now, but there was still something fragile to their new union, and he didn't know how deeply the roots could burrow if a seed of doubt was planted...

No, Edward told himself. This was it. They were together. And if his parents thought Jasper was a prick, well, then ... Maybe they'd be right. But Jasper was Edward's prick. The prick he loved.

"Ready?" he asked quietly, feeling his pulse rocket even higher as he saw the light in the entryway flipped on.

"Ready."

A second later, the door swung open, revealing Esme Cullen. Gone was the expression of wrath from the day before and back was the warm, genuine smile that Edward was used to. "Boys! I'm so glad you could make it!" She drew first Jasper and then Edward into a hug. Only, as she pressed a kiss to her son's cheek, she whispered, too quietly for Jasper to hear, "Do not think you are out of the doghouse, mister. You still have your father to deal with."

"I do?" he squeaked.

"You bet you do." But when Esme pulled back, she was wearing her most beatific smile again, and she invited them in. "Your father is just finishing up with dinner."

As they entered the kitchen, Edward took in the familiar sight of Charlie Cullen standing over the stove. The older man turned, his mustached upper lip lifting in a wide smile as he nodded at them.

While Esme was a competent cook, Charlie had developed a real interest in it after he had retired from his medical practice a couple of years prior. As Esme moved to pour the boys each a glass of wine, Charlie gave the pot another quick stir and then wiped his hand off on his apron before hugging Edward and then extending his arm toward Jasper.

Jasper shook his hand readily, though he did shoot a quick, nervous look at Edward, who accepted the glass of wine from Esme and began to lift it to his mouth. "Hi, Mr. Cullen. It's nice to meet you."

"Please," Charlie scoffed. "Call me Charlie. I hope you like meatballs."

Wine sprayed everywhere as Edward choked. "Sorry! Sorry!" Still coughing, he set his glass down and moved for the paper towels.

Fortunately, Jasper recovered smoothly. After making sure Edward was all right, he addressed Charlie with a placid smile. "Not to worry, Charlie. I love meatballs."

Edward grimaced as he wiped the last of the spilled wine off the tile. "I know you do," he grumbled.

"What was that, dear?" Esme asked.

"Nothing. Nothing."

They sipped on their wine and made small talk as Charlie finished up dinner, and before long, they were all sitting down around the dining room table.

"So," Charlie said, clearing his throat and passing the rolls. "Esme tells me you boys spent a night in the slammer the other day."

Fortunately, Edward did not have any wine in his mouth at that particular juncture. "Listen, Dad," he sputtered, "it wasn't—"

"Your fault? What it looked like? How would you like to explain it, then?" Charlie's expression was completely unreadable; nothing about it indicated whether he was about to toast Edward's free-spirited exploits or tell him to go pick out a switch and drop trou.

"I—Um."

"It was really a big misunderstanding," Jasper said, breaking in. "An ex of mine was in the bar, and when he and Edward ran into each other, things got out of hand."

Charlie raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Out of hand enough for you to all spend a night in jail." Turning back to his son, his voice began to climb in volume until Edward was wide-eyed and straight-backed in his chair and ready to run. "Did you stop to think about what this could mean? For your career? For your family?"

"No," Edward choked out. "No, I didn't." His eyes connected with Jasper's, and he suddenly felt calmer. "All I could think about was him. And the idea of another man so much as breathing the same air."

Jasper's expression grew tender, his fingertips spreading out across the placemat. Had they been at home, Edward knew that Jasper would be reaching for him. He knew that, in the end, everything he had done had been for love, and that the person who meant the most to him in this world knew it.

Unexpected relief came from the other end of the table as Esme piped in, "Oh, come on, Charlie. Like you haven't done the same thing. Back when you were his age."

Charlie's face darkened. "Back when I was his age, I had a son! Responsibilities!"

The implication was clear.

"Well, fine, then," Esme continued, waving her hand dismissively. "When we were in our twenties." There was a soft smile on her face. If it hadn't been his parents talking about the rash things they had done in the heat of passion, Edward would have been moved. Or at least curious to hear more.

As it was ... Well, ew.

Again, Jasper's voice was calm as he tried to explain. "While Edward may have acted rashly, he's been nothing but responsible since we've found each other again." He paused, moving food around on his plate before skewering a meatball and staring at it contemplatively.

Edward couldn't help wondering if Jasper was thinking the same thing he was. About the carefree way they'd begun, back before all of their many, many mistakes. About how each of them had grown.

About how, in spite of that growth, they both still liked their meat.

And their balls.

Jasper continued, "He's been wonderful with my daughter. And wonderful to me."

Edward could think of a hundred exceptions to that statement. The punching and the dick-slapping, for starters. But he'd dick-slapped Jasper as a sign of love, right?

At the mention of a child, Esme's expression softened even further. "Tell us about your daughter. Bella, right?"

"Well, she's eleven, and..."

As Jasper described his daughter, Edward watched the man's entire face light up, the love he held for the little girl so obvious in every word he spoke, every gesture, every mannerism. Edward knew all of this, of course, but there was something special about seeing it here, in his own childhood home. It was different seeing it now that the two of them had really committed to each other.

Something wistful and warm opened up inside Edward's chest, a longing he'd never really given the opportunity to grow before. He thought about the idea of a family of his own. A family he made with Jasper.

And he wanted it. He wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything before.

The unexpected emotion was rising up in his throat, when he suddenly found all of his attention refocusing on what Jasper was actually saying.

"... and she's been so great about the whole Edward moving in thing..."

A dozen red warning lights went off in Edward's head, and he sat up straight in his chair, eyes darting from Jasper's face to each of his parents' shocked ones.

Abort! Abort! Abort!

Jasper seemed to realize what he'd said about a second after everyone else did, and he stopped mid-sentence, allowing an uncomfortable silence to descend over the table.

Voice crackling with barely manageable restraint, Esme was the one to break it. "You two are moving in together."

"Um," Edward stammered. "Yes?"

His mother's napkin hit him squarely in the face. Apparently that was the end of restraint. "What happened to taking it slow?"

Edward winced, but his new realization about what he wanted from this relationship made him bold. There was a rightness to this. "What can I say, Mom? When it's right, it's right."

Moving in with Jasper was right.

Esme began firing off questions from every direction, Charlie breaking in too from time to time, and Edward scrambled to defend his decision. Jasper mostly sat back, mouthing a silent, "Sorry!" from time to time, but then his phone rang. He snuck a glance at it and then shot Edward another apologetic look. "Charlotte," he said quietly, rising from the table. "I have to."

Edward sighed, but nodded. Still suffering his parents' judgment, he kept one eye on his boyfriend as he stepped just into the hallway and answered his phone.

Then Jasper's face when white as ash.

Suddenly, Edward's attention was focused entirely on Jasper. His parents' voices receded into a dull background hum, the walls and the table all blurring into a perfect tunnel vision, until all Edward could see was the beautiful man at the end of it.

Jasper spoke a few quiet words and closed the phone, then turned to Edward, the look on his face one of a man who was completely lost.

A man who needed him.

Edward's napkin hit the table, and he rose with nothing more than a mumbled, "Hold that thought." He didn't spare his mother or his father a second glance as he rounded the table and came to stand before his partner. His hands instinctively sought out Jasper's, holding them tightly as he breathed, "What? What happened?"

Still deathly pale, Jasper's gaze went unfocused, and he closed his eyes. "It's Bella," he finally managed to get out.

Edward's heart went cold. "Jasper. Listen to me. You have to tell me."

"I don't know." Jasper opened his eyes again, but he still looked like he was in shock. "I think she's okay, but Charlotte didn't say what— Just that I need to get to the hospital. Now."

At Jasper's glazed stare and the coldness of his hands, Edward felt a deep pit of fear open up inside of him. The terror was a many-armed, unnamable thing.

Fear for the girl he'd come to love as if she was his own.

Fear for the way that Jasper had dealt with tragedy the last time.

Abject terror that he would push Edward away again.

"Okay," Edward choked out, struggling hard for a calm he didn't feel. "Do you want..."

Please, a little voice in the back of his mind screamed. Please don't shut me out this time.

Jasper's eyes suddenly snapped into focus. And in a single motion, they met Edward's.

"I want—" he started, before pausing, closing his eyes and then blinking them open again. "I need..."

Edward held his breath.

"I need you," Jasper whispered.

The hole beneath Edward's feet closed, and all at once, everything was manageable again. He was still terrified for Bella.

But they could do this. They would do this. Together.

"I'm right here," Edward swore.

And from that point on, he was determined that he always would be.

oOoOoOoOo

A/N: TheLadyInGrey will be hiding in a cave until the next chapter. Please feel free to join her there if you come unarmed.

Yoga & PP note: Oh noes! Yikes! Eek! Guess we'll just have to see what FarDareIsMai2 has to say about what happens to Bella in the next chap! Along with her fabulous slash, if you're looking for a wonderful (but different) BDSM fic...make sure to check out TheLadyInGrey's story, Our Lives Unbound.