Dedication: Because I promised MadQueenOpus I would diligently work on my existing fics, naturally I just had to slap her with a new one no one even asked for. I'm just built deficient lmao

Summary: A tattoo artist, the sheriff's daughter, an eighty-dollar bet. What could possibly go wrong? Romance isn't dead yet – just being rendered. It's a prototype, something you have to plan, revise, and work on for the rest of your life. This is the Jasper/Bella AU you didn't know you needed. Written for MadQueenOpus, with all my love. Enjoy.


Eighty-Dollar Muse

I

"Jazz! She's here again."

Jasper Hale looked up from his sketchpad and scowled. "Jesus. How many times is it now?"

Rosalie laughed softly. "Fourth time this week."

At the image of the staid-faced brunette idling along the narrow hallway of his tattoo parlor, Jasper set his current selection of stencil pens and toner ampoules aside. He fought the urge to march up to the girl and get it over with, whirring under his breath, "What's she doing?"

"Hmm… Just lookin' through the pictures on the wall." Rosalie replied discreetly, swiping a quick glance at the noiseless visitor from her vantage point at the front desk. "Last time it was the catalogue and portfolios. I reckon she likes your art?"

"Well bless her heart, then," Jasper bit out through gritted teeth.

Rosalie looked amused. "Right, well, I'm just callin' it like it is. As I don't see the sheriff banging down the door, maybe you should... talk to her."

Jasper drew his gaze back to Isabella Marie Swan's day dress-wearing, pastel tone-colored, unblemished physique as she continued ogling at the portraits of his previous clients on the parlor wall. Soft curls swayed and kissed at the low-ribboned slope of her back.

He clicked his tongue. "You know what? Fine."


Bella hadn't even realized she had been holding her breath until a deep voice startled her.

"Look, lady. If I'd doubted your six-foot-nine Hercules and his giant friends were minors at all, I wouldn't have inked him, much less let them into the shop. Honest mistake. And if you want me to come clean to Sheriff Swan, I will. Just stop it with the sleuthin' around in pretense of sight-seein'. It's irkin' me. I got stencils to finish."

Bella stared at the honey blond shop owner as he prattled crossly. From the stiff frown on his face, to the sharp chisel of his jaw, down to the charcoal ink strokes that began at the base of his neck to the toned broadness of his shoulders and arms. There was a dainty half-winged, half-geometric skeleton shaped like a perched raven on the plane of his left clavicle; fine swirls and vector imprints everywhere else on the top of his chest – etched vibrantly, masterfully painted on exposed skin.

Bella wondered – did he have more under his black cotton top? Even the length of his fingers had artistic tints... How far and deep did they go? Had he done them on himself? Did they hurt at all? Mm...

When his words finally registered, Bella blinked at him and pushed her brows together, mystified. "…Huh?"

Slim lips pulled into a deep scowl. "Don't play coy. You came here two weeks ago demanding to know who inked Jacob Black."

As a matter of fact, yes, Bella did, but she was still puzzled by the harshness of his tone. "…Sorry, was I not allowed to? I haven't gone to this part of town much."

The tattooist looked her over and looked at her funny and stated: "You're the sheriff's daughter."

Bella nodded once; slow, wary. "That's right. Charlie's my dad."

"Yes and you are snooping for proof…" Jasper hinged, all the while maintaining his hold on her gaze, "…that I inked a few minors. Am I right? I'm saying it was an honest mistake. Now, unless you're insistent on tattlin' and sendin' me to county jail – you can leave. It won't happen again, alright?"

Bella stared at him, clueless, until finally, it clicked. "Oh!"

Jasper arched a single brow. A wry hint of a smile showed on the brunette's face before she could help it and Jasper had to pull his gaze away from the bare pink fullness of her lower lip.

"Oh, no, no." Bella said. "I'm not here for that."

"You're the sheriff's daughter," Jasper repeated in exasperation as if the statement already explained everything. "You want to snitch on the Quileute boys since they got smashed and inked at my parlor underage."

The curve of Bella's lip stretched into a regular smile. She couldn't help the ridicule in her voice when she accused the man opposite her, "Mr. Hale, you've already pegged me a goody two-shoes. I haven't even been back in town for a full month."

"Lady, you opened a goddamn flower shop at Main Street. No offense, but your type don't come here unless it's trouble. Take your big city busybody attitude somewhere else."

"...Pfft." Jasper's glower came undone when a genuinely infectious laugh bubbled out from the woman across him. "Say, do you remember what you inked on Jacob?"

Eyes still narrowed at her, Jasper muttered under his breath, "A wildcat worth eighty dollars."

"That's right. On the back of his hand." Bella laughed again. "Jacob's ailurophobic. He's extremely afraid of all feline creatures, that rascal. I bet him eighty dollars he couldn't do it."

Jasper blinked at her. Once, twice; trying to understand.

"Well, he did it and proved me wrong. So now he's betting it back. He's insane. It's like we're still kids."

"…I don't follow?" He made sure to sound unimpressed.

"I'm here because I wanted to see for myself how good your hands are." Bella humored his stupor as she explained for him outright. "Jacob bet that I couldn't tatt a serpent sliding up my thigh. I'm ophidiophobic."

"…You're afraid of snakes." Jasper paraphrased, blank-faced. "And you want a permanent one crawling up your thigh?"

Bella hummed short and thoughtful. Her hand moved to cop the curve of her belly, then drew down, down, down. "I was thinking it could start from the side of my hip, span the side of my crotch, then end at my upper thigh." Palm going back up again, her nail tips caught slightly at the flimsy chiffon fabric of her dress skirt. "The finer the outline, the better. Maybe you could entwine it in a few lotus flowers? I really liked the watercolor one at last year's floral catalogue. The one you did on Tanya?"

Unbidden and art unleashed, the exquisite phantasm of a slim, stygian serpent adorned with powder blue lotuses on a pale, saucy thigh slithered and seared permanently unto Jasper's mind. He nearly salivated at the concept and barely stopped his eyes from drawing back downward and imagining what the sheriff's daughter would look like, laid only in a two sizes too-large, gray cotton shirt and her most presentable lace underthing, arched on his brown leather chair. Brows furrowed in concentration, groaning from the pain of being branded so intimately, moaning his name to stop, even for just a while…

Shit. What a visual. Jasper's face contorted. "Wait."

Bella's eyes pinched innocently along with the worsening brightness of her smile. "Yes?"

"You're the sheriff's daughter."

"Yes. I am." Bella confirmed for the third and final time. A french-tipped feminine hand now held out towards him. Jasper swallowed thickly. "As you already know, I opened the botanical at Main Street. Charlie may have told the town my name's Isabella Marie, but since you're bound to see more than anyone ever has, Mr. Hale, you oughtta call me Bella."

Jasper closed his mouth, opened it, and closed it again. No sound came out.

Immensely entertained by the turn of events, Rosalie leaned back on her seat and guffawed at the spectacle of her brother, who was unusually awestruck. Days like these never happened to a town this small.

"It's so nice to meet you, Bella. We didn't get to tell you the first few times you dropped by, but what Jasper means to say is: yes, he's very good with his hands, you've come to the right place, and does three weeks from now sound good? It's the only day he isn't fully booked."

"Oh, yes, definitely. It's a date."

"Great!" Rosalie penned it permanently into their work calendar, making sure Jasper had the whole day to compose himself. A haphazard work plan simply wouldn't do. "Now, do you have some time to go over some sketches with us?"

"S-Sure..."

As Bella headed to the unoccupied leather recliner and sat next to Jasper's designated artist chair, her scarlet dress hiked up above mid-thigh. Rosalie threw her a mischievous wink and offered a folio-sized sketchpad for her modesty as she drew.

Bella's smooth voice filled the parlor, a small, lulling hum here and there. A telltale burning grew in Jasper Hale's throat and he lifted his head to the heavens.

Lord willing and the creek don't rise, he'd make sure this was the opus of a lifetime.


Version 12/03/2021

Don't worry. Part II soon.