Y'know what, sometimes you just get bored of things. A special nod to the people who came back to see if I've updated, you have some dedication to this fic that I clearly don't. And extra kudos to anyone who private messaged me to check I'm alive. I'm sorry I kept everyone waiting for so long and I'm really sorry it definitely wasn't worth the wait!

Honestly, because I struggled with this so much, I haven't put the energy into it that I should have. This thing is way too English. Like WAAAAAY too English. All I have to do is change the word 'sidewalk' to 'path' and suddenly it could be set in Downton. I might read the Great Gatsby to help. Might.

Anyways, my apologies for the wait. I would promise that the next chapter will be on time, but I don't want to lie to you. Thanks for sticking with me 3 (Also I have spent the last two months writing a bunch of other stuff so stand by for some of that if you're into it)

(Also also, I'm truly sorry this chapter is called 'rogered'. I just found it so funny I couldn't not)

'The society of the past seems strange these days, but sometimes I miss it. Without technology or the expectation to work, we 'ladies of leisure' spent our time together. Friendship was as precious as gold in those days' - Esme

September 1915. Bella.

A week after moving, Bella prepared for another morning spent in church. She had been getting away with just changing her broaches, blouses and shawls for the last few days to make it appear that she changed clothes; but then she and Peter went hunting and one misplaced wrestling move snapped all the bones in one half of her corset. Good thing Irina had made her so many spares.

So Sunday morning she finally bathed; picked a couple of stray twigs from her hair where her bun had hidden them, scrubbed the dried blood off her arms and face, and sat in front of the rarely lit fire to impatiently wait for her hair to dry. Not for the first time, she yearned for showers and blow dryers.

With a fresh chemise on (she ripped the last one without noticing) she carefully wrapped a new corset around her torso. The bones were still rigid and unused to the curves of her body, if she pulled too hard she could damage it. One thing going back to the past had changed for her was her opinion on clothes. When you only had a few dresses, you had to take amazing care of them and you definitely had to like them. Back during her jeans and tshirt days, she never had as much affection for her garments as she did now.

It being unworn, the laces were loose in strange places and she fumbled to pull them tight without snapping them. She had her back to the mirror but had never quite mastered looking behind her and doing something fiddly at the same time.

There was a quiet knock at the door, she sighed.

"Come in, Jasper."

He had a sheepish grin on his face, as he always did when he sensed her frustration and offered to help without being asked. He just couldn't stop himself.

She glared half heartedly at him, then turned her back to him and pulled her hair away.

"Please?"

He came close behind her and started at the bottom, pulling the laces just tight enough that the garment molded to her body, since her body could never mold to it. He gently tightened each section, working up to the middle of her waist where the laces were left long for tying - then he moved up to the top.

Here was a little more intimate, as he pulled it just tight enough over her breast, knowing the exact contours of her body. He worked down, his fingers lingering over her shoulder blades and the lines of her back, caressing to the small of her waist where he finally tied the laces in a simple knot. Then he slowly pulled them around to tie properly in the front, where he secured them under the hook below her waist.

He was done, but he stayed exactly where he was. His hands resting on her stomach, body so close behind her she could feel his breath stirring her hair. This was hardly the first time they had been in this position, not nearly, and Bella had two choices. She could politely thank him and move away, he would smile as if it didn't sadden him and they would chat about some inane thing while she finished dressing. Or, she could stay. He wouldn't do anything, he never would; not if she didn't start it. But she could stay and enjoy it, just for a second.

She wavered, but gave in to the easy option and rested her hand over his, leant her back against his chest and smiled at the lips pressed softly to her shoulder. What little they had would have to end soon, but for now she would cling on.

The church yard was, as ever, a pleasant place to chat and people watch on a late Sunday morning. They still got curious looks, as the newcomers, but Jasper and Carlisle had established themselves at their jobs (legal clerk and doctor, respectively) and so they weren't quite so strange and interesting as they might have been. In fact, they were finding themselves quite popular. Jasper and Carlisle had been pulled away to talk to the families of coworkers, leaving Bella and Peter to entertain themselves.

"Miss Cullen!"

Bella turned from Peter's enthusiastic commentary on Father Thomas's secret late night indiscretions with a farmhand to the lady bustling through the churchyard towards her.

"Mrs Platt!" She greeted in return. "How are you this mornin'?"

"Quite well, my dear. Quite well." She smiled genially at Peter as he tipped his hat to her. "I wondered if you might like to take tea with myself and Esme this afternoon?"

"Oh!" Bella tensed for a second, drawing strength from Peter's prompting hand on her back. "That would be lovely!"

"Excellent," the lady turned to return to her impatiently waiting husband, "we will see you at three!"

Bella took a deep calming breath and smoothed down the front of her most sensible day dress. It came down to just above her ankles, made of a light blue gingham to highlight her youth, with a loose matching jacket tucked into a sash at her waist. Her long mahogany hair was pulled back into the loosest bun she could manage, with loose tendrils pulled out around her face. She looked damn adorable.

She stood at the Platts' heavy front door and intimidating brass knocker. It was staring at her, its blank eyes mocking.

This was ridiculous. She was a vampire, an eternal being, fifty-four! She shouldn't be so freaked out at the thought of spending time with a twenty year old girl. But it wasn't just a girl, this was Esme - her mother. But this Esme wasn't her mother yet, and might never be.

She shook herself. Esme would definitely never be her mother if she just stayed on the doorstep like a weirdo. A rush of confidence suddenly filled her, almost familiar enough to have been her own. Of course, it wasn't. Jasper was loitering nearby.

She sighed, and finally knocked loudly and clearly on the door.

It opened almost immediately, by a maid who gave her a look that said she knew exactly how long she had lingered on the doorstep. Bella gulped down her mortification, put on a smile and asked for Mrs Platt.

She was shown into a bright drawing room, pleasant enough but unnecessarily ornate in strange places. Mrs Platt and Esme sat on the plush velvet sofas; Esme sketching and Mrs Platt embroidering. They looked up and beamed at her entrance.

"Miss Cullen! How lovely to see you my dear. Please sit." Mrs Platt ushered her to the sofa beside Esme. "Mary? Tea, and some of the scones if you please."

Mrs Platt settled back into her seat and smiled at her guest. "I'm so glad we finally have a chance to chat, Miss Cullen. My husband has spent time with your brothers, but he somehow doesn't seem to know a thing about you!"

Bella laughed. "Thank you very much for invitin' me; Mrs Platt, Miss Platt."

"Oh," Esme lightly touched Bella's arm, "do call me Esme!"

Bella tried to cover how hyper focussed on her arm she was and smiled back. "Then please call me Isabella."

How she longed for the day that it would be acceptable for non family to call her by a nickname.

"So, Isabella." Mrs Platt said as the tea was brought in. "My husband tells me you are an orphan."

Esme turned to her mother with wide eyes at an incredibly uncouth thing to just come out and say, but Bella couldn't help but be amused at the lack of tact. Mrs Platt was just as straightforward as she had been described.

"Yes," She said. "My parents died when I was a baby, my grandmother raised me and my brothers."

"But you do not live with her now?"

"No." Bella took the cup of tea Esme had gracefully poured for her. "She passed away four years ago."

"Oh I am sorry. Is that the reason that Dr Cullen left here before?"

Bella nodded into her cup. "Yes, he didn't want us to be alone. Jasper was still young."

"So then you were raised by a governess?"

"Um, no. No governess."

"No governess?" Mrs Platt raised an eyebrow. "My dear, you were raised from age twelve just by your brothers? Do you have any other family?"

"We have some cousins livin' in Canada, but other than them," Bella shrugged, "it's just us."

"So you have had no female influence whatsoever?" Mrs Platt gasped. "How on Earth have you managed? Men are perfectly fine, but there are some things they just can't do."

Esme cut in. "It must be lonely."

"A little," Bella smiled. "But I am close with my brothers. Peter and I spend most of our time together, and Carlisle has always taken such good care of all of us."

"How wonderful." Mrs Platt said. "Mr Platt did tell me your youngest brother was sickly, I do hope it's nothing serious."

Bella covered her snort with a sip of tea.

"It's not serious," she said, "he's just always had a weak chest and can't exert himself too much."

"Good. Now, will you be starting school next week? I assume you will enjoy the chance of making new friends."

"Yes, I am."

"Oh!" Esme grinned. "I volunteer at the school on Wednesdays to help the little ones with reading. I hope I will see you there!"

"I hope so too!"

"And even if you don't," Mrs Platt sternly handed her a scone, "I hope to make these Sunday teas a regular occurrence, Isabella. I can't have you spending such tender years only in the company of men."

"Thank you, Mrs Platt."

After an afternoon of pleasant conversation and wishing Mrs Platt goodbye, Esme kindly escorted Bella to the door.

"I'm afraid I must already apologise for my mother." She shrugged softly and handed Bella her shawl. "She does love taking girls under her wing, but she means well. I assure you."

"Oh, I don't mind." Bella replied. "It's nice that she cares, despite barely knowin' me."

"Well, we both do." Esme reached out and pressed her hand, an encouraging smile on her face. "I hope we will be very good friends, Isabella. In fact, with the same woman mothering the both of us, we are almost sisters!"

Bella laughed along, although a part of her started screaming. She made her excuses and rushed out the door, waving halfheartedly back to Esme as she left the drive and entered the street. One word kept echoing through her mind.

…sister sister sister sister sister sister…

She was so preoccupied as she walked home that the scent of an unknown vampire took her by surprise. She had glared so hard at the sidewalk that she didn't notice the man staring at her from the middle of the street.

But then the wind changed, her head shot up and she met his blood red gaze.

He tilted his head to one side in question and smirked.

"I wondered why a group of our kind seemed so settled among humans," his voice was too deep to be pleasant, "but it appears you are practically humans yourselves."

Bella tried to smile in a way that didn't betray how much she wanted to rip him to pieces. How could she allow a human drinker near Esme when she was still so fragile?

She sensed movement from inside the house. The others had heard them.

Carlisle appeared at the door. "We didn't realise there was any of our kind here." He said. "Won't you come in away from prying eyes?"

The man shrugged, and Bella followed him into the house. Jasper and Peter were on their feet in the sitting room, already on alert.

The man eyed them, and their scars. "My apologies for infringing on your territory, I used to spend time here before I went to Europe. I just came back and thought I'd look in."

"No harm done." Carlisle smiled and gave the others a look. At ease. "However, I must insist that you do not hunt here."

Roger nodded. "Fine. But may I ask why you would choose to live among humans like this? How can you stand it?"

Carlisle gestured to his home. "Would you stay for an evening? I can explain all, and I'm sure coming from Europe you have some interesting stories of the war. We also have bathing facilities should you want them."

Roger still looked on edge. He couldn't seem to look away from the two scarred men staring at him for too long, but gratefully accepted Carlisle's offer all the same.

Roger joined them in the sitting room once he was washed and dressed in some of Peter's old clothes. They chatted and traded stories all night. He was rather grizzly, a bit aggressive and prone to taking offence at small transgressions; but he delighted at the trio's stories of their time as nomads, and his descriptions of what he had seen in Europe captivated them all. They could not begrudge his company.

When the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, he finally stood to leave - lest he be stuck in their house all day. Carlisle called Jasper and Peter upstairs to fill an unused bag with clothes they wouldn't miss, leaving Bella alone to entertain the nomad.

"You know…" He crept close and murmured to her. "It sounds a great deal like the nomadic life suited you."

"I suppose," she said, "but I much prefer living among humans, not hunting them."

"Well…" He stepped a little closer, a little too close to be comfortable. "If you ever decide to go back to that life, I keep a permanent correspondence address in New York." He rattled off a sequence of numbers and letters. "Feel free to contact me, you'll find I can be a very… agreeable companion."

Bella could be a little clueless in these matters, but she was fairly sure she was being hit on. Sure enough, so was Jasper. A growl rumbled from the doorway where he stood, murder in his eyes.

Roger's eye's shot up from where they had been cemented on Bella's neck and he took a respectful step back. Jasper filled the gap, shooting to her side and pushing her a little behind him.

Bella had seen him angrier, but for some reason he seemed almost afraid. He lost control of his gift. He projected thick waves of rage into the room, strong enough to affect even the calmest man. Bella shook it off, recognising it as an emotion not her own - but Roger clearly didn't. His growls grew to match Jasper's.

"Jas…" She whispered, squeezing his shoulder. "It's fine. You need to calm down. Deep breaths."

Jasper snapped out of it and swallowed his growl. The waves dissipated away, leaving the poor nomad distressed and confused.

Roger shook himself and stared warily at the empath. "My apologies," he said, "I couldn't detect any strong marks, so I assumed she was unmated."

"An assumption…" Jasper growled, snaking an arm back to pull Bella closer. "You should leave."

Roger raised his eyebrows and glared daggers at Jasper's aggression. "It was a simple mistake, I meant no harm."

"I don't care. Get out."

Jasper glared at the man until he ran out the back door without a word of goodbye to anyone. Then he finally turned and pulled Bella tightly into his arms, burrowing his face in her neck and inhaling deeply. Bella mechanically wrapped her arms around him, patted his back and stroked his hair. Peter and Carlisle crept in, walking on eggshells around Jasper as if he were an exploded bomb.

Essentially he was. He was acting like a vampire who's had his mate threatened. It was fair enough, a natural reaction governed by instincts. But they weren't mated.

Yet everyone was acting like they were. The nomad took one look at Jasper's reaction and thought they were mated, and Jasper didn't correct him. Peter and Carlisle seemed totally understanding, no confusion at all. Because they knew this reaction, this was normal for mated vampires. But they weren't mated.

Bella pulled back as soon as Jasper loosened his grip, and rushed upstairs as soon as she could with the excuse of getting ready for school. Thankfully, Carlisle would escort her as her guardian, not Jasper.

She hadn't fully thought this part of her plan through. It wasn't something anyone had predicted. But now she was faced with having to break up this relationship that never officially started. She had to go get Edward in 1919, four years time. What had been a vague event on the horizon suddenly became a looming deadline that she wasn't sure she had time to meet. She needed to distance herself, turn their relationship into what it always should have been. Maybe they could never be brother and sister, but they had to be platonic. Was four years enough time to cool their relationship into an innocent friendship?

It would have to be.

Jasper.

"Well wasn't that a pleasant outin'!" Jasper stretched in his chair like a cat. "Mr Platt sure is good company."

"I suppose…" Carlisle eyed him warily. "Honestly, as much as I appreciate Mr Platt's friendship, I'm not sure why you seem to like him so much. I have never seen you show so much interest in a human before."

Carlisle was a little too suspicious. Jasper had had to cut in again to stop him rejecting Mr Platt's invitation to drinks and had been overly friendly the entire time they were there. But at least he had backup, now they were home and debriefing Peter in the sitting room. It was nice too, sitting close enough to a raging fire for it to warm his freezing skin. He only wished Bella was there, but she had apparently gone hunting.

Jasper shrugged. "He's a nice man, so's his family. I like straightforwardly good people. They're rare sometimes." Carlisle still looked unconvinced, Jasper elaborated. "But mainly I like bein' in his house. His daughter, Miss Esme, has such pure emotions and they radiate through the whole buildin'. It's like a hug."

It wasn't even a lie. Esme's emotions were remarkably pure, sweet and warm. Even though he had only spoken to her a few times, Jasper could see why Bella loved her so much. He had struggled to believe that in the future he considered a woman seventy years younger than him as a mother, but once he met her he understood it.

Carlisle grunted and stared at the crackling fire in the hearth. "Miss Platt is a very sweet girl."

"Woman." Peter corrected, lounging on the couch. "She's twenty Carlisle, don't wanna be disrespectful."

"Err.. quite." Carlisle muttered, confused. It was a strange thing for Peter to say, since Carlisle's own daughter was in her fifties and still just a girl in his eyes.

"I get the feelin' she fits with you quite well," Peter continued, "and her mother clearly wants a relationship between the two of you. You ever considered it?"

Carlisle's eyebrows rose. "A romantic relationship with a human? No. Honestly, I haven't considered romantic relationships with anyone in a very long time."

"No reason why you couldn't, with control like yours."

"I suppose, but…" Carlisle shook his head. "It would just be strange. Even if I got past the idea of being in a relationship with a woman hundreds of years younger than me, Miss Platt is younger than Bella. Even if I did develop feelings for her, that would be too strange to get past."

A wave of panic drew Jasper's attention outside. It was most definitely Bella. He quickly excused himself and darted outside, where she stood silently freaking out in the yard.

"It's alright, sweetheart." He whispered. "It's just a setback. He'll come around."

Bella accepted his embrace when he offered it, but she stood rigid in his arms. Her emotions were drawn in, like she was holding them in. He looked for the gold, but when he found it it was dull and cloudy. She was hiding something from him.

He almost said something, but then they heard Carlisle brush off Peter's insinuations again and he could only hold her tighter.

He would keep working at Carlisle forever, to make her happy. He would get her her mother, no matter what it took.