A/N: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I'm only making her characters do my bidding for a little while. The plot and original characters of Longing do belong to me, however. Jasper as the God of War and Peter "just knowing shit" are ideas that belong to Idreamofeddy.

Thank you to Shelljayz, my awesome and beloved sister and beta/prereader, who helps to clear my head and unstick me when I get stuck, Laurie Whitlock, my wonderful and cherished friend and beta, and juliangelus, another wonderful and dear friend and prereader. I love you guys.

To those of you who have read, followed, favorited and reviewed: you are amazingly awesome and I cherish you. You blow me away.

Congratulations to shirleypositive72 on your win for the Energize W.I.P. Awards! You so deserve it, dear! Congrats also to Laurie Whitlock for your win. You deserve it too! Thank you all to everyone that took the time to vote. It was awesome of you to support the authors you love! :)

How has Jasper been coping with Bella's revelation and what has she decided to do to cheer him up? Read to find out!

oOo

Wednesday, November 25th, 2080

JPOV

Since the 2012 attacks, students in the U.S. were graced with the whole of Thanksgiving week off instead of just the day of and the day after. It was a little thing that was supposed to promote morale and gratefulness for what we, as a nation, still had in the wake of tragedy, which was why I currently found my ass sitting on the couch in the living room, pretending to watch Emmett, Edward, Peter and, surprisingly, Carlisle play some bullshit video game while the girls, Bella not included, did their own thing. My opinion on it might have been different, I might have even joined them, if I wasn't still brooding over Bella's revelation on my human past and all the other shit that was still on my mind, the stuff I had been struggling with for weeks now. I'd promised Carlisle that I would consider his theory that I had PTSD but I hadn't yet. Well I had tried ... once. It hadn't gone well. It had resulted in simultaneous panic and rage which ultimately led to the red tint taking over my vision and an inevitable blackout. When I came out of it, it looked like a bomb had gone off in the forest in a choppy one hundred yard radius. I hadn't tried again. There were a lot of things I hadn't tried at all. I hadn't moved forward with telling any of the rest of the family about my issues after the way things had gone with Carlisle nor had I confronted Peter about his assertion that I'd forgotten things. With our eidetic memories that shouldn't have been possible. The possibility that it was true filled me with foreboding, and Peter wouldn't have lied about something like that. He wouldn't have lied to me at all. Given all that, I just wasn't in the mood to play video games.

I'd been avoiding Bella. I didn't know what else to do, even though that was stupid. I didn't care if it was stupid. I was a stubborn bastard. I did what I was going to do whether it made sense or not.

We do do that, don't we? the Major mused. We're deep sons of bitches!

I rolled my eyes. How is that deep, you jackass?

I could picture his, my, shrug. He didn't answer. I scowled.

I didn't have time to dwell on my annoyance over it though because a thin, rectangular cardboard box was dropped in my lap. I picked it up and studied it—it was a beef stew MRE.

I looked over my shoulder at Bella, who was responsible for giving me the MRE, and cocked an eyebrow. Her action had caught everyone's attention, not just mine, and we were now being watched, covertly by some and blatantly by others. Peter and Charlotte were showing particular interest in our potential exchange.

Bella moved around the couch until she was in my line of sight, her expression full of playful mischief. It wasn't a look I often saw on her—the playful kind anyway. Now plain old mischief, on the other hand ... I didn't know what to make of this different, less evil-looking kind.

"I figured dropping a bag of blood in your lap would be crossing a line. It would also lack the humor and irony," Bella explained.

MREs—Meals, Ready-to-Eat—were self-contained, individual food rations in lightweight packaging the United States Military bought for its military service members to use in combat or other field conditions where organized food facilities weren't available. Some form of them had been around since The Revolutionary War. I'd had them during my time in The Civil War, though what they'd consisted of then paled in comparison to what they were made up of now.

Since she didn't seem to be in a hurry to oblige me with an answer, I finally asked the question I hadn't actually put into words, "Why did you drop an MRE in my lap?"

"Because it's funny and ironic, like I said," she stated, shrugging, and it was funny ... kind of. Peter, Charlotte, Emmett, Edward, Alice and Rosalie didn't share my cautious amusement over her antics, they flat out thought it was fuckin' hilarious. Carlisle and Esme were more on my page. Thank God for parental figures! If nothing else, they were almost always on your side. Then Bella spoke again, and her sexy voice expelled all thoughts of parents from my brain. "And you're in a funk, Texas, so I'm taking it upon myself to defunkify you."

"'Defunkify' me," I repeated, mystified. "That's not even a word."

"It is now," she came back at me. "And you pulled me out of my funk. Then you saved my life. Pulling you out of your funk, a.k.a. pulling your head out of your ass, is the least I can do. Not to mention, we raised the white flag days ago, but we haven't done any actual flag waving since."

I snorted, set my mouth in a stubborn line and folded my arms across my chest in defiance, but Bella was undeterred. She plopped herself in my lap and pressed her lips to my cheek, taking me and everyone else by surprise like she always seemed to do, but that was the point. The idea was that I would be less inclined to fight back if I was caught off guard. It was a good strategy. It didn't work, but it was a nice try.

"I never did thank you for saving my life, so ... thanks."

Her breath, which was lacking that awful smell distinctive to humans in the morning alone and instead smelled like cinnamon, floated across my face and did things to me that should have been illegal. I squeezed my eyes shut, gritted my teeth and shoved her off me before she figured out what those things were, but she snagged my hand as she went, catching the falling MRE in her free hand, and used the momentum to drag me to my feet. I could have resisted, but if I did, she would have ended up back in my lap, and I didn't want her there.

Don't lie! You totally do! the Major sang. I totally do!

But I didn't, and it wasn't all to do with not wanting her to discover the physical effect she still had on me. Bella was the person whose touch bothered me the least, but I did not want her to fuckin' touch me right now. She knew things I didn't want her to know, things I'd never planned on telling her. I hadn't even known some of the things she did, and I was disturbed and pissed off over it all. I didn't want anyone to fuckin' touch me at the moment because of that shit. But there she was, touching me, and for some annoying reason, I wasn't prying her soft, little hand from mine, even though everything in me was shouting for me to shake her the fuck off.

Bella didn't say "come on," or "let's go." She simply tucked the MRE in the back of her pants and propelled me forward towards the garage and through the door, grabbing the helmet I used solely for the sake of appearances off its peg on the wall and pushing it down onto her head. She looked adorable, and I really liked the idea of her wearing something of mine. It caused a weird and entirely unpleasant little jerk in my chest that I did not fuckin' like but wasn't entirely unfamiliar since I met her. I quashed that thought and went back to being irritated. It was easy; I was good at being irritated, and I legitimately was. Then she led me to my Tomahawk, threw her leg over the frame and settled on the leather seat. I just stood there, staring at her. In part, I was taking the time to admire the view, but mostly, I wasn't sure I wanted to get on it with her. She flipped the visor of my helmet up, and her eyes met mine, intense and challenging.

Damn it! I groaned to myself. Did she somehow know I couldn't resist that shit? I narrowed my eyes, mirroring that challenge. If nothing else, I always gave as good as I got.

"What makes you think I'm gonna let you drive that, Bella?"

"Well, I can't let you drive it, can I? Where we're going is a surprise, and if you don't know where we're going, you can't get us there," she reasoned. "We would take my car, but ..."

... But she didn't have a replacement yet. Shit!

"You crash this, and I won't bother savin' your ass this time," I warned. It wasn't true, but threatening her felt good. What can I say? I'm an asshole.

"I crash this and I'll deserve to be nothing more than a gruesome splatter of roadkill on the highway," Bella agreed. "Now get your ass on this motorcycle, Whitlock! I'm losing my patience here!"

But she wasn't—not in the way she usually did anyway. There was that bite to her voice that suggested she was, and she was calling me "Whitlock" again instead of "Texas," but her tone was still softer. I recognized that tenor, though it wasn't exactly the same. It was like the tone she'd used with me in the alley in Louisville the fifth and final time she'd ordered me to kiss her, the tone that had broken my resolve.

Son of a bitch!

I mounted the motorcycle, circled my hands around her waist, squeezing her tighter than I needed to, and blindly let her take me wherever the hell she wanted.

oOo

Bella drove for roughly thirty-five minutes, towards Ozette Lake, speeding but not pushing my bike as hard as she could have. When she pulled to a stop by a sign to the left of a long dirt drive, I hopped off the bike and levelled her with a look of confusion.

"What are we doin' at a horse ranch, Bella?" I queried.

Bella dismounted as well and pulled the helmet off, her ponytail a sexy, disheveled mess from the trip.

"That's pretty obvious, don't you think?" she responded.

It was obvious. Unless Bella had signed us up to muck stalls or something, there wasn't really anything else for visitors to do at a horse ranch but ride, and what she was wearing—riding breeches, boots and half chaps—now made a hell of a lot more sense. I suddenly wondered if she'd chosen to bring me here because she also knew about my human life before my time in The Civil War. Despite how much easier it was to be around her, alone with her, than I thought it would be, I didn't like that at all.

"I'm a vampire, Bella," I retorted in exasperation, kicking at a rock in the dirt by my foot. "Animals can sense that I'm a predator, so they try their damndest to haul ass as far away from me as they can get as fast as they can manage it! That's pretty damn obvious, so, I repeat, why would you bring me here?"

"You're also an empath, Jasper," Bella reminded me, placing the toe of her boot over mine before I could send any more rocks flying. Like I could fuckin' forget what I was. "You said you can feel and manipulate the emotions of others. Can you explain to me exactly what that means?"

I didn't want to explain it, but it was better if I did. "I feel emotions—all emotions. I feel physical shit too, like pain, for instance. Most physiological factors, like pain, affect a person's emotional state. Since the two are so interconnected, most people can't separate them, so they intertwine and I feel both. You would think that wouldn't matter, but people are complex and nuanced, so I think, in part, that makes my gift complex and nuanced."

Bella snorted and stepped back, releasing my foot to its own devices. "Not all people are complex and nuanced."

I smiled. "Some people are simpler than others emotionally, but they're still biologically complex, so that still affects my ability."

"Okay."

"Every emotion I've ever felt I can replicate and project onto another person. Say a person is angry," I continued. "I can envelop them in calm until it's like that anger never existed. If I really want to, I can make them forget why they were even angry in the first place."

She nodded, absorbing that information. If she wanted to know more than that, she was shit out of luck.

"Alright," she thought aloud. "My basic assumptions were correct." Then she met my gaze. Why had she even bothered to think about it? "My hypothesis is this: animals feel fear the same way people do. I would think, given your own description of your gift, that you could manipulate their fear as well. When we go in that barn, take the horses' fear away, send them peace or whatever, and they should be fine. As for why I brought you here ... when we were in the alley in Louisville, you asked me why I moved there. Even though you were annoyed, when I told you I picked it because of the horses … I don't know," she shrugged, dropping her gaze to the dirt and watching with interest as she ground a piece of bark into it with the sole of her shoe. "You looked wistful for a second, and I thought there might be something more to it."

While we were in the alley I had recalled how much I loved horses, but I'd never bothered wondering if it had registered on my face. I was too pissed off at the time. I didn't know why she would remember.

"Then there's what General Magruder said about you being really good with them in his journals," Bella added cautiously. "And being around horses always helps me," she revealed, finally peering back into my eyes and looking a little vulnerable. "So I was hoping that coming out here might help you too. I took a chance that it might be something we could possibly have in common and that we could use the time we spent with the horses to get to know each other ... if you're still interested."

"I am still interested," I assured her, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "But this isn't a good idea." Her eyes darkened in wrath, and her lips turned down into a scowl. "Okay, fine. It's a great idea ..." I placated, immediately pulling my hands back out and holding them up in surrender, and it was. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it myself. I'd missed horses so damn much. The idea that I might be able to have them back in my life ... I wanted to hug Bella for possibly giving that to me. That was definitely a bad idea. "... in theory. But you're forgetting something."

"Which is?"

"My gift is shot to hell with you around."

Alright, so that wasn't precisely true, but I wasn't about to get into my neuroses or psychoses with her. Bella already knew too much deep shit about me. She could ask me all the superficial shit she wanted, but the rest was off fuckin' limits. We wouldn't be baring our souls over a saddle or joining hands and singing Kumbaya around a campfire.

"Right," she mused, bringing her hand next to her mouth and biting her lip as she thought.

I was back to wanting that lip between my teeth. I internally rolled my eyes at myself. Awesome!

"Can we try it anyway?" She pressed gently. "I've got an idea or two ... if they don't work, we'll find something else to do."

"Fine," I conceded stiffly. I had to put up some resistance, even if it was only through my tone of voice. I didn't want to put the idea that she could just bat her fuckin' eyelashes at me and get her way into her head. That was not going to be how this friendship worked.

She grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes—it was my go-to for hiding certain emotions, like that sometimes, when she smiled like that, it made me feel a little warmth and not the sexual kind.

Bella reached for my hand and wrapped her fingers around mine, again towing me along behind her like a dog on a leash. It irritated me—I still didn't want to be touched, and I always did the leading—but I let her do it anyway. Halfway down the drive, she stopped, let go of my hand and turned to face me.

"I know you know about horses, but how much do you know exactly?"

"Some," I responded vaguely. I didn't recall much of my life before I was turned, but I did remember that, as a human, I'd known as much as a person probably could know at that point in time. I only remembered bits and pieces now, not seeing the point in relearning it all as a vampire since I could never put the knowledge to use. "I knew more when I was human, but the change makes you forget things."

"Okay. Well, you need to be less ..." she trailed off, uncertain of how to phrase whatever she was going to say.

"Less what?"

"Less 'grrr,'" Bella growled, her face scrunching in an attempt at menace and her hands coming up and curling into claws.

I chuckled heartily. I couldn't help it—she was adorable. So far, her plan to pull my head out of my ass was working. "I'm a vampire, Bella," I reminded her again. "'Grrr' is my default setting."

"I don't mean 'grrr' in a vampire way," she said. "As a person, you're kind of surly, Jasper."

I chuckled again. "You're not exactly known for your social graces, Bella."

"Hey!" she protested, attempting to sock me in the shoulder. I caught her hand in mine before she could and squeezed it the slightest bit before I released it. I hadn't meant to do it, and I didn't know why I did. "I have social graces aplenty ... when I choose to use them, which isn't often. I'm just saying you're too tense."

"What was it you said to me the other day?" I asked, bringing my index finger to my chin and pretending to think hard. "Oh, right! 'Hello, pot. I'm kettle.'"

"I'm not disputing that, but that isn't the point," Bella admitted. "The point is you have to leave your tension outside the barn, as hard as that is to do. Even if we can get a horse to overlook what you are without the aid of your gift, we won't be able to get it to overlook that, and if you're tense, so is the horse. Same goes for nervous, scared, excited ... you get the picture."

"How about we get the horse over the vampire thing and then worry about how tense I am?" I suggested.

Her face took on a thoughtful expression before she responded. "That works, and if you already know something I'm explaining, just tell me."

I nodded, and Bella reached for my hand again. This time I saw it coming and instinctively flinched away from her. I expected hurt to cloud her features like it always did with anyone but Peter and Charlotte, but it never came. Her eyes filled with empathy instead. She didn't comment, and she didn't reach for my hand again as she turned to continue towards the barn.

Goddamn it! I growled, gritting my teeth in irritation, not knowing if it was more because I didn't want her to be so understanding or because I detested looking weak. No, it was definitely the latter. I did not give a shit if Bella understood me, and I refused to appear weak.

I grabbed her hand but didn't let her lead me around this time. Fuck that. If I was going to let her touch me, we would be on equal footing. I would walk at her side.

I studied her out of the corner of my eye, checking to see what her reaction was. If she smirked, I would make her regret it. She didn't.

When we reached the barn, there was a man standing at the entrance.

"Are you Bella?" he asked, his eyes not even taking in her face before dipping down to her toes. He moved them back up her body so slowly he was pretty much eye-raping her, and his lust was practically bowling me over.

Rip his throat out, Jasper, the Major seethed.

Why would I do that? I asked serenely. It's kind of hilarious.

And it was, because Bella was tapping her foot in impatience, clearly annoyed by his blatant perusal. If this dude wasn't careful, she was going to flay his ass. If she didn't, then I would rip his throat out. Damn, she really had grown on me.

"Yes, and this is Jasper." She jerked her head in my direction. Then she held up our innocently joined hands. "He's my special friend ... and he bites."

I should have given the bastard a grim smile that showed my razor sharp teeth to emphasize Bella's proclamation, but I didn't. I was scowling though. Normally, I would have found her semi-false proclamation funny as hell since the guy looked like he was about to shit his pants, but my chest felt uncomfortably tight, and the last thing I could do at that moment was force a smile onto my face—cocky or menacing. It still seemed to succeed in putting the fear of God into him.

The asshole gulped so audibly I was embarrassed for him, his own embarrassment and fear radiating out of him, and his fear was entertaining. "Your horses are Chaos and Gemini."

How very fitting.

"We'll only be needing one of them," Bella informed him.

The ranch hand nodded. "I'll just show you where the tack room is, take you to them and leave you be."

It was just plain irresponsible and against the rules to let us ride off with the barn's horses without coming with us. Horses were expensive animals and I knew this guy was just a drudge. He would catch hell if something happened to them, but he was too intimidated by Bella and me to do his job properly and come with us. That was a good damn thing because I probably would kill him then.

"Good idea," she condescended.

"You can pick which one you want. Just let me know which one you decide on before you take off," the guy said, and Bella nodded.

She didn't immediately follow him as he turned to head inside the barn, and I waited with her because this shit was her idea. She held up a finger to get him to hold on as she took her phone from her jacket pocket, pulled up satellite images of the area, and studied it briefly. After a second, she nodded to herself, tapped a few keys and lifted her eyes to mine. My phone beeped in my own pocket.

"I just sent you coordinates and a map," she informed me quietly. "Meet me there."

"Bella, what—"

She rolled her eyes and leaned in close, whispering, "Do you really think it's a good idea for you to walk into a barn full of horses without your handy-dandy mojo at your disposal? We're going to do this one-on-one in a wide open space. Less chance for mayhem and injuries."

oOo

The coordinates Bella sent me to were that of a large clearing with a stream edging the far side. It was unevenly ringed by pine and redwood trees, but the ground was covered in long grass that would be excellent for whichever horse Bella had chosen to graze on. As usual, it was a typical overcast day, but it wasn't raining.

It was an hour before Bella appeared through a gap in the trees, perched atop her horse and moving at a leisurely trot. She looked beautiful, like she belonged there.

"So we're special friends now, are we?" I teased as Bella approached me.

She'd tied the horse to a tree fifty yards away from me, giving him—I could see it was a male from here—a long lead to move around with. I remembered enough about horses to know he was a silver dapple Quarter Horse gelding, and he was a spectacular animal. His wariness over my proximity even this far away was drifting over me like a breeze on a chilly day, but he wasn't panicked ... yet.

"Shut it, Texas!" Bella scolded and then shuddered. "The guy was a skeeze. It was the best and quickest way to get him to back off without things getting messy, and things would have gotten messy. I was starting to feel dirty standing there."

"Oh, poor baby," I mocked, patting her on the cheek the way she had me in the locker room the other day. She glared. I grinned even though his staring had bothered me too. "Which horse did you choose?"

"Chaos."

I smiled faintly before asking, "Where do we start?"

"Same place a human would," she answered. "But much more carefully."

"And where would a human start?"

"Breathing and body language," she responded.

"You do realize I don't have to breathe?" I questioned.

"I'm aware," Bella answered dryly. "But you pretend every time you're around humans. Now you're going to pretend for Chaos over there because even if you don't need the oxygen, you're still pulling air in and pushing it out of your lungs, and the motion of it should be enough. The act of deep breathing puts horses at ease, Jasper, because even if you aren't relaxed, it gives off the illusion that you are."

That sounded familiar, and it made sense, so I would do it. Plus, it wasn't much of a departure from my regular routine.

"And what about my lack of a pulse?"

"We'll stay close together, touching," she emphasized, making a face, "and hope my heartbeat will be enough to mask that. Horses are smart though, and from what I can tell, Chaos is a quick study. If you match your breathing with mine, it might throw him off for longer."

I ignored her blatant display of distaste at touching me, biting back the irritating and unwelcome stab of hurt it brought. That still made no sense, and I didn't have the right to be hurt. I had just recoiled from her, and I still didn't really want her to touch me.

"And body language?" I asked

"You shouldn't have a problem with that," Bella replied. I raised my eyebrows, hoping she would get that I wanted her to expand on that. She did. "Horses need strong leadership, Jasper. They can generally sense if they can get away with taking advantage of you. The right body language helps to convey that you won't put up with any shit they try to pull. If you start out that way, they won't try to pull any shit at all, unless that's just the horse's personality. Some just like, need, to test your limits before they will respect you and follow your lead … just like people. Essentially, you have to build a connection with the horse, you have to build trust. The stronger the trust, the more smoothly things go, which is why it took me an hour to get here. I took the time to build some trust between me and Chaos and to form a bond. All that starts with breathing and body language."

"You still haven't told me what the right body language is."

"You pretty much embody it: standing up straight with your shoulders back, keeping your eyes forward, taking wide steps, only for the love of God, don't prowl," Bella cautioned. "And don't fidget. It's all about projecting confidence. Also, exude energy. If you don't, neither will they, and they'll take advantage then too. Then there's the deep, even breathing. When we finally get you to Chaos, which probably won't be today, smile at him and use firm touches because light ones are more like tickling. Just be you, minus the tension and surliness. So subtract like three-quarters of your personality, and you should be good," she deadpanned, grinning not three seconds later.

I rolled my eyes at her jab but didn't respond to it. Some of her instructions were things that were familiar, so I nodded.

She took my hand again, which I didn't fight against this time, and we slowly began to close the distance between us and Chaos. At twenty-five yards away, Chaos' fear and alarm at my presence ratcheted up to a level that had him spooking like crazy.

Bella dropped my hand and started to go to him but turned back to me before she did.

"Back away from him but not at vampire speed. Do it slowly, and make sure you don't move into his blind spots," she instructed. "Do you know where a horse's blind spots are?"

"Directly in front and behind."

She nodded. "I know you're a fair distance away, but if you look at him, don't make eye contact. That's a predator thing. I know you are a predator, but we need to draw as little extra attention to it as possible. It will only make him more nervous."

I gave her a gesture of understanding, and Bella went back to approaching him. She moved slowly with her eyes dropped to the ground and came at him from his left. The closer she got, the more jumpy he became ... until she hit a five foot distance.

She pulled her eyes to his shoulder height, still not meeting his gaze—he was still too spooked for that—and spoke softly, soothingly, "Whoa, Chaos. Easy, boy, easy. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. Jasper isn't going to hurt you either. I won't let him. Easy. Whoa."

He began to calm immediately at the sound of her voice, his unease not going away all at once, but dissipating more quickly than it should have. Was she a fuckin' empath? Then again, I suppose it helped that she took the time to form a bond with him. Still, it seemed a bit abnormal.

Watching Bella with this horse was practically hypnotic, but I chose not to focus on that and how sexy it was. I needed to pay attention to this shit. I remembered some of it, but I was rusty, and if I ever managed to get near this horse without giving him a heart attack, I needed to know it.

Less than two minutes of uninterrupted consoling later, Chaos was serene, and Bella was able to look him in the eyes without detriment to his mental or emotional state. She was scratching him on the withers and had her face pressed into his jaw. A few seconds later, she pulled away from him, kissed his nose and came back to me.

That's when the true work began.

We gave him ample time to recover between each attempt before we finally let him off the hook for the day. Bella didn't want to work him too hard for too long, and two hours later, we'd managed to get me within eighteen yards of Chaos before he spooked. It seemed like an endless process, but once we started, I was determined to stick with it, as long as I didn't actually hurt him in some way. We'd made remarkable progress in that time, more than I ever thought we would considering I didn't think we would make any, and I was feeling much lighter than I had before Bella had dragged me out on this little field trip and made me part of her science experiment. My head was officially out of my ass.

Bella now had Chaos tied to a tree near the stream so he could drink, and the two of us were camped out on the opposite side of the clearing to give him as much space as possible.

I was lying on my back, my head resting on the soft bark of a large, torn branch. My eyes were closed, and I was feeling relatively peaceful—more peaceful than I'd felt in days. Before I closed my eyes, Bella had been lying on her stomach, her head resting on her clasped hands, her eyes closed as well. We coexisted in the quiet for a good long while, and it was comfortable and relaxing. I liked it.

Some time later, I heard a ripping sound echo in the surrounding space, and my eyes opened. Bella was sitting up, had the MRE she'd given me earlier in her hands, was tearing the cardboard box and pulling out the packet of beef stew. She ripped a corner of the packet open with her teeth and tipped it back into her mouth.

"That's attractive," I teased.

She raised a brow. "Do you or do you not sink your teeth into your food and then slurp it out of its packaging until there's nothing left to slurp?"

"You have a point," I conceded.

"So," she started, picking at the grass by her leg with her free hand. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue," I replied.

"Why?"

"It's the color of water and the sky. Both are calming to me, so I gravitate toward them. You?"

"Orange," Bella answered.

"Really?"

"Were you expecting me to say pink or something?" she asked.

"No," I replied cautiously. "But I wasn't expecting that."

"Well, it's not like bright ass orange is my favorite. I'm more a fan of sunset orange," she explained.

"That's not a Hunger Games thing, is it?" I questioned, mild disappointment coloring my voice.

"Those are great books, but no," Bella defended without offense and no characteristic eye roll. "I like color in general, but there are many I have negative associations with. I don't have that with orange, especially that shade. It actually has positive connotations for me."

I raised my eyebrows, and she went to explain, which surprised me. "It's metaphorical, I guess, which is cheesy as hell. It's just ... I've had choices taken away from me before, and each new sunset represents another day I've gotten to live my own life, even if that life is still heavily colored by the time when I had no choice. That probably makes no sense."

A stab of camaraderie and empathy shot straight through my heart as she shared that; a powerful rage penetrated my bones as well and red started to cloud the edges of my vision at the knowledge that someone had taken her choices away. There was also a sadness tempering it all that tore at me, made me ache and want to reach out to her. I didn't. I didn't feel like I could.

"It makes perfect sense," I whispered softly, moving my gaze off into the distance as I remembered things I'd rather I never thought of again. Perfect recall was a son of a bitch sometimes.

"You sound like you know from experience," Bella observed. There was an emotion in her voice I couldn't place, but I didn't mind so much right now. The red tint to my vision began to fade.

"I do." I refused to say any more on that subject, and she didn't appear to want to discuss it any further either because she semi-changed the subject.

"Do you have any colors you don't like because of bad memories?" she hedged, her expression betraying that she wasn't sure if she should be asking and also her surprise that she was asking at all.

"Red," I answered wryly, an ironic smile twisting my lips.

Her face turned incredulous. "You don't like red?"

"I hate it," I revealed. "But I love it. It's one of those incredibly complicated things it would take hours to explain, and I can't even guarantee I would be able to find the words to do it anyway. Then there's that I just don't want you to know."

Bella nodded, not bothered by my blunt admission and not pressing me, moving on like I hadn't just said one of the oddest, most ironic things a vampire could say. Honestly, what vampire didn't love the color of blood?

"That's fine."

"What are yours?" I inquired reluctantly. She hadn't been sure if she should ask the question, and I wasn't sure if I should either.

"Pick one," she muttered lowly, probably to herself. She seemed lost within her own mind, as though she had forgotten that I could hear her words, no matter how lowly spoken. I didn't like it. Five seconds passed before her eyes met mine. "Red isn't my favorite either ... So, when did you join the Cullens?"

"In 1984," I told her, partially relieved she'd fully changed the subject now while another part of me was aching to know why she had a problem with red. I was fairly certain the reasons for her distaste weren't mundane. Mine certainly weren't. I was also certain she didn't want me to know her reasons just as much as I didn't want her to know mine.

"I would have guessed you joined the family with Peter and Charlotte, not Alice."

"Why would you guess that?" I asked curiously.

"Despite how close you are, you and Alice are polar opposites. With Peter and Charlotte, you're all different, but at the same time, you're like extensions of each other," Bella said. Her shrug was nonchalant but her gaze was shrewd.

"I lived with Peter and Charlotte before Alice and I met. I still do off and on," I explained vaguely.

"Oh." A hint of curiosity and something else—awkwardness, maybe—flashed in her eyes, and I prepared an edited version of why I'd ever stopped living with Peter and Charlotte full-time when she inevitably asked, but she merely left that subject behind. "Charlotte mentioned venom the other day. What does that mean?"

"Vampires secrete venom. It's why we smell sweet, which, as Rosalie said, is part of how we draw in our human prey," I began to explain. "It paralyzes our prey as we feed, which is unnecessary. It's not like a human could get away from us. It's also a defense mechanism, as in it acts as poison to animals, shape-shifters and werewolves—"

"Actual werewolves exist?" Bella questioned.

"Yes," I responded. "But there aren't many of them left. Caius of the Volturi hunted them to near extinction." Bella nodded. "As Charlotte mentioned, we use it to heal ourselves. Venom is also a principal part of our physiology, part of our biological makeup. It replaces the blood in our veins and all our other bodily fluids when we're changed, saliva and tears for example. It's also what turns a human into one of us."

Bella was silent as she digested this. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask," I responded, echoing her words from the beach the other day. "Doesn't mean I'll answer" was just as implied coming out of my mouth as it was coming from hers. I expected her to continue to question me about venom. She didn't.

She smirked briefly before turning serious. "I'm thinking that going MIA wasn't a decision you made for yourself."

Her expression turned pointed, and I was pretty certain I knew what she was getting at. I did not like where her line of questioning was probably going to go, but I could have been overestimating her intelligence. That was unlikely, but I wouldn't decide how much I didn't like it until I knew for sure.

"That's not a question," I said. I wasn't generally a guy who avoided shit but stalling would make it easier to answer her, if I even did.

Bella rolled her eyes at my evasion. "Was that when you were turned?"

I didn't just not like that question. I fuckin' detested it, and I wasn't expecting the fury I felt at hearing her ask it. It caught me off guard. My back went ramrod straight and my jaw clenched. "Well, I sure as fuck didn't go AWOL."

She touched her hand to my leg and I glared at her, tensing up even more, but our contact had an eerie sort of calm seeping in to me. After a minute, I relaxed and my expression softened a little.

"I wasn't suggesting you did," she assured me, her tone apologetic. "But I promised not to make assumptions, and I wouldn't have cared if you did go AWOL, Jasper."

I huffed and pushed her hand off me, but I somehow knew with certainty that she meant that. My expression softened even more.

"So, were you 22 when you were turned?" Bella asked with a hesitant air about her.

I hated that she knew so much about my human life, which meant I hated this question too. I wondered why she had bothered asking it when she did know so much, though she couldn't have known the knowledge she had about my age was inaccurate. I was also tempted to ask her why she'd had a history teacher who'd only taught her about war and its leaders, especially such obscure ones, and when she was so young at that. That was really fuckin' abnormal, and I debated whether or not to answer her question or to deflect by telling her how strange that was instead, but there was a part of me that was glad she'd asked about my age. For some reason, it was important to me that she know.

"No," I said. "I lied about my age when I joined the Army. I was just shy of seventeen at the time and hadn't quite made it to 20 when I went MIA."

She nodded again. "That's kind of amazing, Jasper. You know, when I first met you and thought you were human, you struck me as military. I just figured you were a military brat before Carlisle and Esme adopted you."

My eyebrows raised. If I was human, my forehead would be fatigued from all the times they did that because of her. "Why would you think that?"

"You may not be a soldier anymore but everything about you screams it," Bella shrugged. I wanted to scoff because as much as I didn't want to be, I was still a soldier. I didn't scoff though. I did wonder how she knew what did or didn't scream "soldier." "It's been over two hundred years since you've worn a uniform, and you still act like one. Why?"

"That's like askin' a zebra why it has stripes, Bella," I answered like that was the most obvious thing in the world. For me, it was but not so much for her. She had no idea I had continued fighting in a war for another century after my human death, but that didn't make me sorry for how I came across. "It's just part of what they are, for better or worse. How do you know so much about what soldiers are like?"

"I've hung around a few," she replied. "Do you think it goes away? Being a soldier?" There was a brief flash of pain in her eyes as she asked. I couldn't fathom why. I wasn't sure I wanted to, but that didn't mean I liked to see her hurting.

"I don't know," I responded honestly. "Maybe for some people but not for me. If it hasn't gone away after all this time, I'm pretty sure that means I'm a lost cause."

Bella reached her hand out to me but let it hover over mine instead of taking it, uncertain. I appreciated that she didn't just grab it this time, and I made a decision; I wrapped mine around hers. She tensed for a moment at the contact and then relaxed, letting our joined palms fall to rest on my knee.

We sat in silence for several minutes, and it felt to me as though we were linked by more than our hands. I just couldn't figure out what that link could be.

"I really admire soldiers—what they represent," Bella said, ending the silence and breaking our contact. Oddly, I mourned the loss. "I admire the people who choose to fight for their country, the bravery that requires. The military is something that is very much needed, I know that. I've always known it, and I get it. I don't have a problem with it. What I do have a problem with is what the government sometimes justifies doing in times of war or in the name of the defense of our country, what any government does with that excuse," she added quickly. I couldn't quite tell, but she looked panicked. "At any rate, joining up, especially at such a young age, was a really brave and honorable thing to do, Jasper. I don't necessarily agree with it, but ..." she trailed off uncomfortably. I waited for her to continue, but she didn't.

I didn't have a response for any of that, and as glad as I was that she now knew my true physical age, I didn't want to linger on that part of my history, still uneasy and wary as fuck that she knew as much about it as she did. I took her silence as an opportunity to ask a question of my own. "Why were you on the streets, Bella?" Her eyes narrowed, but I didn't react. "One of your conditions is for us not to pry, but you promised not to pry either. You just asked me some very personal questions on a subject you know I'm not a fan of. Quid pro quo."

Bella blew out an exasperated breath. "It wasn't really a choice, but at the same time, it was. I had to choose between two shitty situations, and striking out on my own was the lesser of two evils. It's one of those incredibly complicated things you were talking about earlier. That's not really an answer, at least not the one you wanted, but it's the only answer you're getting. What you need to understand is that my life over the last five years isn't something I regret. I do regret some of the things I've done but not my actual life. I wouldn't change a moment of it, even the less than savory things. You do what you have to do, ya know? Can we please get back to silly shit that matters but doesn't now?"

"Yes," I agreed. As much as I would have liked to know Bella's story, I couldn't ask her to tell me hers when I wasn't willing to tell her mine. I might very well go crazy—crazier—as a result of my rabid curiosity, but it was still better to stick to the aforementioned shit that mattered but didn't.

It didn't take me long to think of something. I remembered all those months ago when I fantasized about having conversations with her. One of the questions I'd wanted to ask was what her favorite color was, the other— "Do you like to read?"

She smiled brightly at me. "I love it! It's one of my favorite things to do."

"Mine too." I smiled back. "What kinds of things do you read?"

"I'll give anything a shot once," she said.

"Are you one of those girls in love with British chick lit?"

"Not really." Bella shrugged. "Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë are amazingly talented, and their books are great with many relevant things to say about them as people, their generation, and the times they lived in. I did enjoy them, and they are definitely something a person needs to experience, but they aren't something I would read over and over again."

"But you are into The Sword of Truth," I asserted.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I like the main theme of the series—that you only have one life and it belongs to you and you alone. You can't let anyone take it or your choices away from you, and it's your responsibility to rise up and truly live the one life you've been given. It resonates with me," Bella told me. It resonated with me too, and the sense of kinship I'd been feeling with her grew a little more at her revelation.

"You're missing one," I cut in. She gave me a quizzical look. "That you can't turn a blind eye and live a lie just because it's easier to deny the truth than it is to face it. That one is important but probably the most difficult to live by."

"Yes," she agreed. "But sometimes living a lie is necessary. I do think it's possible not to turn a blind eye at the same time, though. It all depends on the situation." I wanted to know what she meant by that, but then she gave me a slightly sheepish smile and started speaking again before I could ask. "Sorry about Halloween by the way." I raised my eyebrows to prompt her to explain. "Alice and Edward decided what I was going to be after I told them I liked the books, and then Alice coached me on the 'Mistress Bella' thing. There's just something so raw about the Mord-Sith. They're forged from pain and suffering. Halloween was supposed to be a night totally about fun, and I did have a great time, but a part of me really connected to what I was dressed as. Part of me knew what I was doing, but there was another part that was sort of channeling it without really meaning to, and then you were just so happy when Emmett hit Riley—a little too happy. He's a good guy, and he could be my friend. I still wasn't convinced you hadn't turned me in at that point, and I wanted to goad you, piss you off, get under your skin, make you suffer a little. It's not the most mature thing I've ever done."

I was again desperately curious as to why she could connect with Mord-Sith, of all things, but didn't feel it was my place to ask. I also wanted to know why she'd said that Riley could be her friend, not was. That wasn't my place either. Bella and I were only just getting to know each other, and that could open the door for her to ask me shit I didn't want to answer—she'd already knocked on too many of my doors today. I gave her a response to her apology instead.

"I was furious with you at the time, but it's over and done with. There's no use dwelling," I figured, and I really didn't see the point. Things between us were finally better. As much as her Halloween stunt pissed me off, I couldn't let that fuck things up after all the progress we'd made. I liked where we were now. I liked sitting here with her just talking. It was ... nice.

Aww, how sweet! The Major mocked. I ignored him, noting absently that he'd been abnormally quiet during this little adventure.

"I'm also sorry I keep touching you," she said sheepishly. When I frowned, she carried on, "It's just … I know you don't like it. I won't do it anymore."

"I don't have a problem with touching, Bella," I denied flatly. Her picking up on that bothered me, going back to how much I hated looking weak in front of her, in front of anyone, which I still refused to do. I didn't know if she believed my denial. "You on the other hand ..."

I expected her to come back at me with a furious, smart-mouthed retort, but she didn't.

"What about you? What are your book preferences?" Bella asked, changing the subject.

"I'm like you," I answered. "I'll read anything once."

"Even sappy, smutty romance novels?" she joked, her eyes sparkling. I liked it when her eyes sparkled. She took another sip of her stew.

"Those are my favorite," I deadpanned so perfectly, so convincingly, that Bella choked on her lunch. She started to cough violently, and I scooted over next to her to pat her on the back, my laughter hysterical as I did it. She scowled at me as she continued to cough and as I continued to snicker.

"You're an ass," she rasped, still scowling.

"Many things make me an ass," I said seriously. "But that isn't one of them. It's not like I told you I masturbate to them."

Bella choked again, though she had nothing to choke on. I couldn't help but choke too—on another laugh.

"We're talking about masturbation, Jasper? Really?" she grumbled, a hint of incredulity in her tone and a trace of a blush on her cheeks.

I shrugged, giving her my best innocent look. I couldn't resist teasing her because honestly, making her uncomfortable was awesome and more than a little fun. "You're the one who brought up smutty romance novels, and I'm an unattached guy. More importantly, I'm an unattached empath in a house full of mated vampires who are constantly fucking. Masturbation is an inevitability, a necessity more like."

Bella clapped a hand over my mouth and stared daggers at me, that trace of a blush flaring a little brighter. I was too entertained by her embarrassment and irritation to give a shit that she was touching me without my permission again, especially after she'd just apologized for it and promised not to do it anymore.

"You know, when I suggested we get to know each other better, that is not what I meant, Whitlock!" she complained, her tone both sulky and irked. "Any mention of anything below the belt after this and the part in question suffers for it. Got it?"

I grinned against the skin of her palm and nodded, so Bella removed her hand from my face. Her glare deepened as she gazed at me, probably to emphasize her threat. I smirked in response which elicited an eyeroll from her.

"What does 'mated' mean?" she asked after a few moments.

I snorted, my smirk turning down into a scowl of my own. "It's just vampire code for soul mate. Some say it's more than that, but I don't buy either of those shit theories."

"Why's that?" she inquired. Her obvious desire to know what I meant made me uncomfortable.

"I believe we have souls and I know that mating is real. As much as I want to deny that, I can feel that it is with my gift and that it's a different kind of love from the typical romantic kind," I said. "But that our souls can connect with someone else's? It's far-fetched, don't you think? As for the other, some people think that we're made for our mates, not just mystically but biologically, like on a cellular level. We don't come into existence for ourselves. Our lives aren't our own or for our own benefit. Everything we are is literally created to connect us to that other person, everything we are is created for that other person. We are meant to be with him or her, and no one else. We don't have a choice. It just is. Whether that's true or not, it's not something I can believe in ... it's not something I want to believe in, and it's certainly not something I want for myself."

Bella was silent as she contemplated that. "And all the couples in the house are mates?"

"Yes," I replied. "They're also all married."

"Okay," Bella acknowledged. She cleared her throat and moved on. "So what do you like to read, really?"

"I tend to veer toward biographies and historical fiction," I said, happy to be leaving that uncomfortable shit storm behind. "Though I do genuinely enjoy great science fiction and fantasy, like The Sword of Truth, some of the classics and intriguing mysteries."

She was a mystery I still wanted to unravel as much as I tried to tell myself I didn't. I wondered if she picked up on the implication; my voice had implied there was more to it than the face value of my words, and she was smart. If she did pick up on it, she didn't show it, but she wouldn't, would she?

"Can you please explain 'Jazz'?" Bella requested suddenly.

"What?" I responded, my brow furrowing.

"Your nickname," she clarified. "I get that your name is Jasper, and in that regard it makes sense, but it and all its derivatives have got to be the pussiest nicknames ever."

"Watch it, sugar," I warned, glaring fiercely at her. She was right though. Those nicknames sucked. "Jazzman" wasn't so bad, "Jazz" had become more tolerable over the years, but "Jazzy" made me want to murder people. I fuckin' hated them all, whether some of them were easier to swallow or not, but they were what the family called me ... I couldn't say no to them.

Her hands shot up in a placating gesture. "Fine, fine. The nickname is a touchy subject. Got it. I'll leave it alone."

"Good." I nodded in approval. "What about your middle name?"

"I actually don't have one," Bella said, folding her hands in her lap. Not having a middle name wasn't the most obscure occurrence in the world but her lack of one piqued my curiosity. It was yet another thing to add to the list of oddities that was Bella Crawfield and another thing I would have liked to question her about, but though when she next spoke the tenor of it was absent from her tone, there was a finality in her eyes that told me not to pursue the subject. "Yours?"

"Michael."

"Traditional, but it fits well. I like it," she decided firmly, shooting me a smile that I returned.

"What is it about horses that you like so much?" I asked next, turning so that my whole body was angled toward her.

Bella dropped her eyes from mine, biting the inside of her lip, and moved them to Chaos, who was still over by the stream but was grazing now instead of drinking. "There's a lot of shit in my head. It's … busy, always busy," she confided hesitantly. "Most of the time I'm great at keeping things separate, and that busy-ness fades into a buzz in the background, allowing me to find complete and utter focus when it's needed, but when it isn't? Let's just say that an idle mind isn't the best thing for me. Letting my mind go quiet would be a relief, but I can't do that because then I can't keep my shit separate anymore. It blends together and … nothing good comes of it," she said, plucking a shoot of grass from the ground and tearing it to pieces. "When I'm around horses, I get to have the silence that I never can otherwise. Everything stops, but the stuff I don't want to deal with doesn't take over. I can live in the moment, just be, which is something I've never had before. It's peaceful, and I'm good with them. I seem to connect with them better than I do with people. Then again, I do my best to avoid connecting with people. Horses are safer."

I didn't look at her. I instinctively knew she wouldn't want me to. As for the rest, what was I supposed to say to that? That I understood? Because I did, but was that something she would want to hear? Was it something I wanted her to hear? Part of me wanted her to; the bigger part didn't. I gave her the only thing I imagined she would want, the only thing I could give her. "I get the busy-ness."

I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye, but she didn't reply. She was respecting my vulnerability just as much as I was respecting hers, and that's what I was having trouble understanding. I was being vulnerable with her, and I didn't do vulnerable. I didn't open up to people like this, not unless it was Peter and Charlotte. It had taken me nearly a century to share anything like this with the family—only Edward and Alice really—and weeks to finally make the decision to speak with Carlisle about what was currently going on with the God of War. I hadn't exactly spilled anything too vital or terribly personal to Bella, but it was bordering on it, and I'd done it with hardly any thought. I didn't get it. I didn't understand what made her different. She wasn't different—not really. We still wouldn't be baring our souls over a saddle or singing Kumbaya together, that was for damn sure. Maybe that wasn't Kool-Aid I would ever drink, but I had always admired Bella Crawfield. I'd always suspected there was more to her than her tough girl façade. This afternoon was proof that I was right all along. I wasn't foolish enough to believe that we wouldn't still fight and bitch at each other, but we were making progress. Things at home were going to be a lot easier from now on.

"Is your head out of your ass yet, Texas?" Bella asked.

"Yes," I replied, casting a sideways glance at her. "My head is 100% free and clear of my ass."

A grin broke out across her face, and I found myself leaning toward her. I was the one who pressed my lips to her cheek this time.

oOo

A/N: Ah, Jasper and Bella bonding! I don't know about you guys, but I love it when they get along. :)

Equine therapy is extremely beneficial to people that suffer from PTSD. I have been lucky enough to experience those benefits firsthand through a scholarship to a barn that specializes in it, and I do not what I would do without them or where I would be if I hadn't found them. Of course, it absolutely needs to be paired with traditional therapy with a psychologist and generally medication of some kind. Equine therapy is also immensely helpful for depression and various other emotional disorders, the rehabilitation of physical disabilities and traumas as well coping with mental disabilities. If you have an organization like this in your area and love or even just like horses, please consider volunteering or making some sort of donation if you can. Most organizations like this survive on donations and can't function without volunteers to help with lessons and fundraisers, and what they do is so important. If you are interested in seeing what they are about, you can check out the barn I go to at www*healingreins*org. Obviously not all barns that specialize in this type of therapy are the same, but it will at least give you some idea of what they do.

Everything in this chapter regarding horses I learned from my lessons at Healing Reins, though I am not an expert by any means still.

What do you guys think of Bella and Jasper's bonding?

If you want to see a pic of Chaos, go to my photobucket album for Longing. The link is on my profile.

Next chapter is Thanksgiving. :)

Take care!