Aha, my apologies for missing another week. This chapter needed WAY more research than I was expecting! It turns out that America in 1915 got kind of ignored by historians, how annoying right? Upside is that I'm back into Downton Abbey again! My apologies if this all came out too English, it probably did. Blame my parents for creating me this way.

This is yet another chapter dedicated to Fletcher, for making me write it - even when I get distracted by pinterest.

"Church gets so overlooked these days, but back in my time it was the social center of the community." - Rosalie

1915.

Remember when we walked to the North Pole? You had been recently turned and Edward hadn't made his way back to us yet, after his self inflicted break down. It wasn't just him though, everyone blamed themselves for Victoria getting to you. I did too. I was so focussed on protecting the others that I didn't listen out for you - the most fragile of us all.
 So there we were, you and I both miserable because everyone else was miserable. There's nowhere to take you to get away from it all because you can't be near humans and we can't go near the wolves because the smell just pissed you off so much. So what do we do? We grab Emmett and Alice and go on a hike - to the North Pole, just because we could. It was by far one of the most whimsical and spontaneous things I have ever done in my long life, and I enjoyed every second of it.
 I'm sorry if I never made it clear how much I enjoyed spending time with you in those early days. I have spent countless years around newborns and always associated it with hatred, violence and pain. You showed me it didn't have to be that way. I will always be grateful to you for that, and for so many other things.

Jasper turned the worn paper in his hands for the thousandth time. He had read it more times than he could count. The soft words of a version of himself that he will never become, written to comfort the slip of a girl he had met thirty years before. He envied that man for knowing her sooner, but he knew her longer, deeper. He knew her inside and out.

It was the only page allowed to him from the ridiculously large letter his future self wrote for Bella, and even that took months of pestering. He still wondered what else he said to her. He thought about what their relationship had been all the time. It was impossible for him to imagine ever thinking of her as his sister - even though that was the part she played in public. But she insisted on keeping her secrets. And he insisted on not thinking too deeply into how she was hiding something from him in the same way she hid Esme from Carlisle.

Esme wouldn't be hidden much longer though. He hadn't seen Bella so excited in decades, perhaps ever. They had been in their new house for less than a day. All their belongings were still in boxes. Yet she insisted that he, Carlisle and Peter put something nice on because she 'had plans'.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being tricked into something.

Still, he straightened his light grey waistcoat and threw the matching jacket on over the top. The Denali sisters kept them all supplied with clothes that suited the times, since apparently Bella couldn't be trusted to do it. She was still pottering about in her bedchamber, so he made his way across the hall to question her about these 'plans'. At the door he hesitated, and with a devious smile he undid his tie and his top three buttons. She was beautiful when she was vaguely annoyed.

He rapped twice on the door as he opened it, not that she didn't know he was there. She'd told him there would be more privacy in the future, when "soundproofing" had been invented. He yearned for the day that private business didn't have to be conducted in the woods.

Bella stood facing away from him, still grappling with her hair. It was an aspect of her life that vampire grace had sadly not helped with, doing it for her was a skill he'd learned quickly. With a chuckle, he came close behind her and pulled her hair away from her struggling hands. He smoothed out the tangles she had created and twisted it into a knot at the back of her head. She sighed and indignantly passed him the hair pins.

He patted the bun to show he was done and she whirled to mock glare at him. He tried not to laugh at the twist of her mouth, then failed in his efforts when she noticed his open collar. She rolled her eyes and set about fixing his buttons with a sigh.

She was lucky, her clothes had gotten much easier to deal with in recent years. Her blouses weren't so tight, her skirts weren't so large. They rose above her ankles now and it was no problem at all, even in polite society. It almost made him sad, that he wouldn't get to hear her swear when her train catches on things anymore. Maybe something in the fashions of the future will piss her off. He could only hope.

She tied his tie with practiced ease. As if it hadn't taken her weeks of practice to get it right. She didn't even look at it, instead glaring directly into his eyes. She was just showing off.

"So," he smirked, "where are we goin'?"

She patted her finished knot and whirled away. "Church!"

He froze as he caught her bright smile in the mirror. Peter's agonised groan and Carlisle's corresponding laugh sounded from downstairs.

He cleared his throat. "You've never wanted to go to church before."

"I've actually never been," she smiled shyly, "I had to find a book on how to act."

He snorted. "They make books on how to act?"

"Yeah!" She pulled a light straw hat out of one of the boxes on the floor. "I had to read so many etiquette guides when I first came back here!"

'When I first came back here'. She liked to refer to her travels through time as if she had simply lived out of the country for a while.

He smirked and moved close behind her to flick her sensible hat off centre. "I haven't gone to church since I was a boy. Why exactly are we goin' now?"

Bella rolled her eyes in the mirror and straightened it. "Because we are fine, upstandin' members of the community. The respectable family of the good Doctor Cullen."

She slipped into her Texan accent like a soft pair of shoes; easy, comfortable and suiting her perfectly. Indistinguishable from his and Peter's by even a native.

"Bells…" Jasper ducked down to whisper in her ear. "I once watched you make a man strip naked and dance before you killed him."

Bella pouted. "You know I only copied what he would do to his victims."

"And I also know how much you enjoyed it."

She turned to face him, their faces barely two inches apart. Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. "What exactly are you sayin', Whitlock?"

He grinned. "Only that lyin' is a sin, dear sister."

She snorted and ducked under his arm to grab her coat. "That would be rather hard to avoid, don'tcha think? Now, we're goin' to be late for church… brother."

Peter was sulking downstairs. He protested, loudly, that he could surely be the rebel brother that the whole family was ashamed of; but quietened quickly with a look from her. Both of them had learned not to question Bella's plans - especially now. 'Operation Esme' would be a delicate business as it was, she didn't need him and Peter making themselves difficult.

But it was more than that, he thought as they strolled to the church. He knew more than anyone how much Bella missed her family. Today she might see Esme again. Her mother.

But Esme wouldn't be her mother yet, and he wasn't sure how ready she was to deal with that.

She had prepared in some ways, she was posing as much younger than she usually did - 16. So at least Esme, at 20, would still be her elder. As per her instructions, Peter was 18 and he 21 to Carlisle's 25. Bella said he needed to be of age to drink, so he could accompany Carlisle to 'men's only' functions. She was lucky he loved her enough to sit through the thick boredom that always surrounded such things.

They entered through the gates to a quaint redbrick church. A few people chatted in the yard, but Carlisle led them straight up to the priest standing at the doors.

"Dr Cullen!" The priest smiled. "So good to see you again, oh and your family too!"

"Father Thomas," Carlisle greeted and grasped Peter's sulking shoulder, "please meet my siblings. Jasper, Peter, and Isabella."

"God bless you, my children." The kind man gestured inside. "You are most welcome. There is a pew at the back that is usually empty, on the right. Just until you get your bearings."

Carlisle nodded his thanks and herded them through the doors, nudging Jasper and Peter to remove their hats. He looked right at home, although his father had been an Anglican priest, not a Catholic one. Esme's family was Catholic, so they were Catholic. Carlisle didn't mind, despite Bella's lack of an explanation. 'Jesus is Jesus' after all.

They sank into their pew as the other parishioners started to file in. Bella was nervously bouncing in her seat between him and Peter, but all of a sudden went perfectly still.

A family of four had just walked in: a well dressed, middle aged couple, who were confidently making their way to a pew right at the front; followed by a teenaged boy and a young woman. It was the woman who caught his attention, Bella's too. After all, she matched descriptions and pictures he had seen so often. She had a heart shaped face, large brown eyes and soft, light brown waves that matched her mother's, pinned back under a simple hat.

Bella's breath caught and her eyes went wide. Jasper was hit with waves of familial love, a warm feeling similar to what she felt for Carlisle. It mixed with a concoction of hope and loss and safety and yearning. He slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed her palm, making sure to hide their hands in the folds of her skirt.

She squeezed back but didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the back of her young mother's head, until Peter nudged her and said people could see her being weird. Even then throughout the service, as they said their prayers, sang their hymns and took communion; her storming emotions never calmed and that fierce yearning never faded.

"Go in peace."

The congregation rose and poured out the church doors, only to congregate again in the church yard. Of course, the whole town was gathered in one spot, it was prime socialising time.

As newcomers, the Cullens were getting many curious looks. But without a proper introduction, no one approached. Jasper, Bella, and Peter kept to a corner, waiting for Carlisle.

He had been grabbed as soon as they left the church by some sweaty, pudgy handed man who kept calling him 'Cullen'. The man then started going on and on about the house they had taken up and the problems they will surely have with it, and the less than savoury neighbors who apparently lived on their street. Carlisle smiled politely, but his family could clearly see the mask start to crack.

"Carlisle looks like he needs rescuin'." Peter murmured.

"Who's he talkin' to?" Said Bella.

Jasper thought back to the last time he saw the man. "The other doctor at the practice, I think?"

Carlisle responded to their whispers with a quick, pleading look.

Peter snorted. "I'll go."

He trudged up the church yard to where Carlisle was conversing with the unpleasant man. Carlisle turned to him as he got close.

"Ah Peter!" He smiled and gestured to the man beside him. "This is the other doctor at my practice, Charles Evenson. Dr Evenson, this is my brother Peter Cullen."

The man raised a hand for Peter to shake. "How do you do, Mr Cullen."

Jasper would listen to Peter being uncharacteristically pleasant and his no doubt imaginative excuse for Carlisle to slip away, but Bella had gone rigid beside him. He turned and was hit with waves of rage the likes of which he had never felt from her. It was even worse than what she felt for Maria or Anton. More intense than her guilt or her loneliness or her fear.

She was staring hard at Dr Evenson, with a fury in her eyes that could be easily noticed by the people around them. She began to vibrate from holding herself back, a growl started rumbling from the bottom of her stomach. He wasn't supposed to touch her too intimately in public, but he had to press a hand to the small of her back just to remind her where she was.

Her gaze snapped to his, too quickly for where they were.

"He's a dead man." She whispered, too quiet for any human to hear.

He nodded. "Noted. Think you can hold back until we're done here?"

She growled. "I s'pose I have to."

Dr Evenson eventually tipped his hat and departed, convinced by whatever platitudes Peter had told him. Jasper didn't notice or care, he was too focussed on the girl beside him. Peter led Carlisle back to them, frowning as he noticed Bella's rigid posture.

"Everythin' okay?"

"Yeah," Jasper rubbed Bella's arm in an effort to comfort her when his gift couldn't. "Maybe we should-"

Footsteps and a cleared throat caught their attention. Father Thomas was leading the well dressed, middle aged couple from earlier right towards them, their eyes on Carlisle.

Esme's parents.

Bella whimpered. She had been waiting for this for so long, but right now it was too much; far too much. Her colours were swirling and clouding and nothing he did could calm them, she was overwhelmed.

"I need to get out of here." She whispered, the rest of her body unmoving.

Carlisle was confused, and concerned. His normal combination when Bella did something he didn't understand. "Why? What's wrong?"

They were giving too much away, but there was no time to give him an excuse. They couldn't risk being rude to Esme's parents, their plan depended on their friendship. Jasper cut in, "Peter, go with her?"

Peter nodded solemnly and linked his arm through Bella's. Together they walked out of the churchyard, avoiding meeting anyones' prying eyes. Jasper watched as he whispered comfort to her down the street.

He turned back to Carlisle, who had his worry painted all over his face, and the priest who was very close by. Without time to talk, Jasper sent Carlisle a wave of reassurance and acceptance, hoping that it wouldn't make him more suspicious.

"Dr Cullen!" Father Thomas called. "Please allow me to introduce two of my parishioners to your family; Mr and Mrs Platt."

Carlisle smiled genially, Jasper's mood control doing wonders. "Of course!"

Mrs Platt cut off his introduction, her enthusiasm too great. "I thought I recognised you, Dr Cullen! We have met before, you helped dear Esme when she injured herself."

"Oh yes!" Said Carlisle. "How is Miss Platt? I hope her leg healed well."

"Absolutely perfectly." The lady said,"Dr Harrison, God rest his soul, declared her good as new. He was very complimentary of your work."

Carlisle ducked his head. "That was very kind of him. I'm glad Miss Platt saw no lasting damage."

The lady smiled and fell silent, like her vaguely disinterested husband. Carlisle stood in awkwardness until he realised his blunder.

"Oh, my apologies!" He gestured to his side. "Might I introduce my younger brother, Jasper?"

Jasper grinned, removed his hat and bowed subtly. "A pleasure, Mr and Mrs Platt."

"Likewise, Mr Cullen." Mrs Platt said politely.

"I'm sorry our brother and sister aren't here to meet you." Jasper replaced his hat. "He felt faint and needed to go home."

"Oh not to worry, I am sure we'll meet them sometime." She said. "Is your brother often ill?"

"Unfortunately yes." Jasper said with a solemn look, trying not to laugh.

The church yard was emptying; Father Thomas had long since scurried off, and Mr Platt was looking around with impatience. Esme and her brother were nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps it is time to be off, my dear." He muttered.

His wife smiled happily, but the annoyance she cast and the elbow in his ribs told a different story.

The man cleared his throat. "Oh yes, of course. Since we are neighbors I was wondering if you two would like to join me for a drink and some cards? Would tomorrow night do?"

Carlisle opened his mouth to say no, but Jasper cut in first.

"We would be delighted, sir."

"Excellent." Mr Platt held out an arm for his wife to take. "I will send a card to your house with the details. Good day, gentlemen."

Jasper and Carlisle waited for them to go and then followed at a safe distance.

"Why on Earth did you say yes?" Carlisle whispered, annoyed.

"You're the one who keeps saying we need to talk to humans more!"

"Talk to them, yes. Spend our evenings playing cards with them? No." Carlisle sighed. "And now we will have to drink. It's impossible to just pretend to drink alcohol, the smell is too strong."

"It's alcohol! It'll evaporate eventually!"

"Yes." Carlisle glared. "Eventually."

"It'll be fine!" Jasper grinned, after a few decades of living with someone you knew their weaknesses. "Besides, he's a well to do man. He might have cigars."

Carlisle paused and pursed his lips. "I do enjoy cigars..."

Jasper patted him on the back. "That's my boy!"

Bella had recovered by the next day, although her feelings of apprehension and rage still hadn't fully lifted. Jasper had to confess that once she told him who exactly Dr Charles Evenson was and what he had done to her mother, he struggled to hold himself back too. One day they would kill him, when it wouldn't interfere with their plans. And they would do it slowly, carefully; with as much pain as possible.

With that soothing thought stored in the back of his mind, he smiled indulgently at Bella; who was excitedly sorting through tie options.

She held one up to his neck. "Did you know that wearing a combination of black, red, and white makes people statistically more likely to trust you?"

"Really?"

She paused. "Yeah, I think so… I guess I have to wait for that research to be done again to find out if I'm remembering right, don't I?"

"I s'pose you do!" He laughed as she settled on a light blue tie.

"There," she popped up his collar and started to tie it, "it makes your hair look more golden."

"Is it really that important that I look good for this?" He whispered, softly holding his hand over hers, stilling her fidgeting fingers.

"No, I guess not…" She whispered back. "I just need to take control where I can, I s'pose."

He sighed and drew her tight into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I know it's hard. But trust me, okay? I'll charm the asses off these people until they can't wait to marry their daughter into our family. I'll get Carlisle the girl."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his chest. "I know you will. I trust you."

Carlisle was downright sullen on their way to the Platt house. He was emitting waves of confusion and frustration. The man really hated being out of the loop.

"C'mon Carlisle," Jasper drawled. "You don't know this guy! He could be really interestin'!"

"Jaz, there is literally a plaque on the front of our house saying 'built by Platt & sons'. I know exactly what kind of man this is."

"Nothin' wrong with the construction industry! We'd be nowhere without it!" Jasper announced, then avoided Carlisle's eye for the rest of the walk. Peter was much better at this deception shit than him.

Carlisle might have had a point with the plaque. The Platt house was incredibly ostentatious; with excess windows, dormers, and trims; a fountain in the drive and heavy double doors in the front. Jasper couldn't help but snort a little at the gilded lion head knocker, but knocked anyway. He glanced at Carlisle, who was still swirling with suspicion but kept his face blank. He just had to hope that Mr Platt was a decent enough man to win over Carlisle's better nature.

Sure enough, Mr Platt was a good man; maybe a little detached and disinterested. It was obvious to all parties (except perhaps Carlisle) why Mrs Platt had insisted they be invited here. But at least Mr Platt was an interesting conversationalist. So long as you're interested in buildings.

Finally, after a few rounds of cards and whiskey in his wood panelled billiard room, the conversation moved from the benefits of timber frames to the people present.

"Can't help but notice," Mr Platt grunted, "that you have different accents."

Carlisle laughed awkwardly, he'd never enjoyed lying. "I was sent to boarding school on the east coast for most of my teenage years, while the others stayed in Texas with our grandmother. The accent stuck, I suppose."

Mr Platt raised an eyebrow. "Just the one of you?"

"I didn't want to go." Jasper explained. "Our younger brother Peter has always been very sickly. I couldn't leave him, our sister, and our grandmother without protection."

"Poor Peter…" Carlisle sighed. "He's always had a weak chest. He'll never work, I'm afraid. "

"He makes an excellent companion for Isabella though."

"Yes, he's a good lad like that. Just such a shame that he's so ill all the time."

They both smirked into their whiskey glasses, remembering the indignant look on Peter's face the last time they told everyone he was sickly.

The man shrugged at this display and nodded.

"Besides!" Jasper continued. "Carlisle has always been the clever one!"

"Ah yes!" Mr Platt smirked. "The famous doctor who saved our Esme."

"I only set her broken leg." Carlisle smiled.

"If you listen to my wife, you'd think you brought her back from the brink of death!" The man sighed. "Honestly, it's a good thing you're a decent fellow-"

A knock sounded at the heavy wooden door, he barked for them to enter.

To no one's surprise if you know Mrs Platt, Esme poked her head around the door.

"Father, Mother says she needs-" She noticed his company and gasped.

Jasper and Carlisle stood immediately in respect, but bless her soul; she clearly had no idea that they would be in there. She wasn't dressed for any company, let alone gentlemen callers. Her gown looked casual and comfortable, her hair unbound and curling around her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry! She didn't say you had visitors!"

"It's no matter, girl." He crooked a finger as an invitation to enter. "I have a feeling there is a reason she didn't tell you. Do you remember Dr Cullen?"

She turned her bright smile towards them. "Of course. A pleasure to see you again, Dr Cullen."

Carlisle inclined his head towards her. "And you, Miss Platt. I was delighted to hear that your leg healed without complications."

She laughed. "Yes, I was back to climbing trees after a few months. Much to my mother's dismay."

Carlisle laughed back, then turned and introduced her to Jasper; who politely acknowledged her.

"They have a sister a few years younger than you, Esme." Her father said. "I'm sure your mother would enjoy your being friends."

"Oh yes, I'm sure Isabella would be delighted to make your acquaintance." Jasper smiled. "She spends far too much time with her borin' brothers, she yearns for female companionship."

Esme returned his smile politely. "That would be nice!"

"What was it your mother wanted, my dear?"

She turned to smirk at her father. "The key to the silver cabinet."

He rolled his eyes. "It is in the second drawer in my desk - where it has always been."

"Well you can't deny that that was a lot more pleasant than you expected." Jasper announced as they reached the lane.

"I suppose." Carlisle chuckled. "Mr Platt was nice enough, and there were cigars."

"I'll never understand why ya don't just buy cigars, since you love them so much."

"They're an extravagance."

"And your point is? We don't eat! Put the food money we don't use into your cigar habit."

"The food money goes into moving houses every five years," Carlisle laughed.

Jasper joined in and let them fall into a companionable silence.

"Miss Platt is very pretty," he ventured.

"She is." Carlisle agreed. "Careful, or I'll start to think you have designs on a woman who isn't my daughter."

"Isn't that what everyone wants?" Jasper scoffed.

"No, it's what Bella wants." Carlisle smirked. "I don't know this Edward boy from Adam. Besides, even if she does prefer him, I would still be offended on her behalf if you strayed."

"Doting father that you are," Jasper joked.

Carlisle grinned. "Indeed."

"So… you treated Miss Platt for an injury last time you were here? You never mentioned it."

"Why would I mention it?" Carlisle frowned. "Yes, she fell from a tree, snapped her tibia bone clean in half. She was brave, a very charming girl."

"And it appears she's grown into a charmin' young woman."

"Mm," Carlisle agreed. "So it would seem."

And so they walked home side by side, dreading having to cough up the alcohol they had consumed. But Jasper kept a spring in his step. He had done his job.

Step one: complete.