Thank you all for the lovely response to Chapter 26. The love you have for these boys continues to humble and thrill me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

-o-

Jasper

When Edward whispers those words to me, those sweet, long-desired words, they fill my soul. He loves me. I return them to him gratefully.

"Lie down with me," he says softly. "Please lie with me and just let me hold you." He reclines on the deep sofa and opens his arms to me, and I relax into him, my head on his chest over his heart. When we are settled together, he heaves a deep sigh; it's so wrought with emotion that it is almost a moan. "I have ached for you, Jasper," he says, his voice trembling. "When I realized how much you meant to me, and how I forced you away…it was the blackest day of my life."

I bury my face in his chest and inhale deeply, letting his scent soothe me. I know exactly what he means – I have ached, too, since the last time I was in this apartment. "I'm here now, beautiful," I tell him, raising my face to his to see that he has tears in his eyes. He smiles warmly, his eyes shining, and kisses my forehead.

"I've missed hearing you call me that," he replies, and pulls me closer to him – we are as close to each other as we can be, our bodies pressed against each other wherever possible.

"I missed saying it," I sigh.

"Did you…" he says, and then stops.

I lift my face to him again. "Did I what?"

"I'm probably wrong," he says. "Maybe my mind manufactured something because I wanted it so much…but when I was leaving your apartment on Tuesday, I could have sworn I heard you call me 'beautiful'."

"Yes," I concede quietly.

"Oh."

"I'm a hypocrite, I know," I continue. "Telling you not to use my nickname; and then indulging myself using yours."

"Well, you were saying it more to yourself than to me," he replies thoughtfully. "I barely heard it."

"Regardless," I tell him, "it's an hypocrisy I want to end right now. You've missed hearing 'beautiful' – I've missed hearing 'Kas'. I'd like to hear it again…if you still want to use it, that is," I add quickly.

"If I want to use it? I may never use anything else again," he says; then, in the barest whisper, he adds, "Kas."

This time it is my turn to sigh deeply. I slide one of my knees between his, tangling our legs together so that we are as intertwined as possible. Edward's hand comes up to my head to softly stroke my curls, and he begins to hum – something I've never, ever heard him do. I can't even remember him singing along with the music when we danced. His voice is deep; it resonates in his chest, his heartbeat becoming the metronome for the melody. The song is slow and soothing. It goes on and on, carrying me surely into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

-o-

I awaken to a state of complete bliss, feeling his strong arms wrapped around me. I am utterly content; because not only do I now have Edward, but I have all of him, and he has all of me. There are no secrets, no forbidden topics; even being afraid of him overreacting to something seems like less of an issue now, because everything is out in the open.

We are, of course, still on his couch, which means I've barely moved all night; not that I've wanted to, but now my body is stiff from lying in the same position for eight hours. Carefully, trying not to wake my still-sleeping lover, I slide out of his arms. When I have successfully extricated myself, I stand slowly and stretch my sore muscles. Looking down at Edward, his face is one of utter serenity. I have to smile at the perfect happiness in his countenance.

I head into his kitchen to make coffee, noting as I pull out the bag of coffee that he's out of Starbucks' Christmas Blend now; he must have used up his stockpile. I scoop the Caffe Verona into the coffeemaker, and a moment later it's gurgling. As I wait for my black gold, I lean on the counter and stare out the kitchen window, reflecting on the similarities to the first time I awoke here on a Sunday morning. Waking by myself, leaving Edward to continue to sleep. Getting a pot of coffee brewing. Looking around the quiet apartment to learn about the man I've spent the night with.

Of course, the similarities are only superficial. The differences are what make this morning so important: Edward's loved ones looking out into the room from their places of honor throughout the house; a plant in the kitchen window and two in the living room – they weren't here before; the card on the fridge, noting Edward's appointments with his therapist; and of course, Edward himself, laying his soul bare to me last night. I was right; he is the person I believed was hiding behind his façade. The knowledge makes me happier than I've ever been.

I pour my coffee and meander back into the living room, sitting comfortably in a large arm chair across from the couch where Edward still sleeps. Forty-five minutes pass as I just sit, drinking my coffee and watching him sleep. I would happily make this my early Sunday morning routine for the rest of my life.

But then I sigh, and remind myself not to put the cart before the horse again. We have both committed to taking things more slowly this time – we need to get to know each other, and time is the only way to do that.

Thinking about taking things slowly makes me wonder about sex. Of course people can have sex without emotion – they do it all the time. And it's not as if Edward and I haven't already been together; but this is different. I feel like there are more conversations to be had before we reconnect in that way, despite the progress and openness we've already achieved. When I make love to Edward again, I want it to be without reservation, absolutely nothing holding us back. And I'm just not there yet.

I hope that when I tell Edward this, he will understand that it's not a rejection of him – god, I want him more than ever – but rather, it's an attempt to build sustainability in our relationship.

As I drain my cup, he starts to stir on the couch, his arms flexing as though reaching out to hold what – who – is no longer in them. I get up, leaving my cup on the table, and return to the couch, kneeling beside it. His eyes still closed, his hands find me and his mouth splits in a drowsy smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," I murmur.

"Mmmm – it is a good morning," he replies sleepily. "Held my angel all night long. Best morning ever."

I can't help climbing back onto the couch and intertwining myself with him once more. "What are your plans for today?" I ask gently.

"Hmm…" He purses his lips. "Well, I was sort of hoping the love of my life would come see me today. Since I can check that off the to-do list, I guess my schedule's free now." He chuckles. "How about you?"

"No plans," I murmur.

"What do you to say to going out for breakfast with me?" he asks.

"Sounds good. Same place as last time?" I suggest.

"Sure," he agrees.

"In that case, I guess I'd better run home and get changed," I reply. "Want me to come back here, or just meet you there?

"Run home…? Why go all that way?" he asks, looking at me with bleary eyes. "Why don't you just shower here?"

"Um…I could, I suppose," I answer slowly.

He pulls back from me a bit, looking uncertain. "You can borrow clothes from me…" he says, as though he's trying to answer my unspoken qualms.

"Sure," I reply.

"Uh-oh," he says. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," I reply, feeling guilty that I'm making him feel insecure. I sigh. "Can I be straightforward with you, beautiful?"

"Yes; in fact, I wish you would," he replies, looking more confused than ever.

"If I shower here, Edward…I'll be…showering alone." I try to say it as gently as possible; but it is a statement, not a question.

"Oh," he breathes. "I see what you're saying. Jesus, you had me fucking worried."

"Are you upset?" I ask quietly.

"I'm not upset," he replies. "I'm disappointed."

"Yeah," I acknowledge. "I sort of am too, to be honest. I mean, it would be so easy to just slip back into that part of our relationship, Edward; and I know it would be…well, amazing. But if we're going to take things more slowly, build a real relationship – I just don't think jumping into bed right away is really the way to do that." I pause, realizing how I've never actually begun a relationship that way myself. "Maybe that sounds old-fashioned…outdated…I don't know…"

He slowly nods. "It probably is a little old-fashioned," he muses, adding, "but, so what if it is? Just because something's old-school doesn't mean it's obsolete. Who's going to tell us we're wrong? What's important to me, Kas," he says, taking my chin in his hand and looking at me seriously, "is that we get this right. You and I are going to do what's right for us. And when it does happen – it'll be better than it's ever been. Because we love each other."

"Thank you," I murmur, lifting my face closer to his. He leans down to meet my lips with his and our mouths move together in a slow, passionate dance for long moments. Finally, he pulls away, clearing his throat.

"Okay, sexy," he says. "If we're going to live up to what we said, you know, five minutes ago, we'd better stop that; and get our asses up and get ready."

"You're right," I sigh.

"Had to happen sooner or later," he says in mock martyrdom, and I chuckle as I stand up, grabbing his hand to pull him up with me. "Why don't you go ahead and shower; I'll get some clothes for you to wear and leave them on the vanity. You know where the clean towels are."

I nod and head to the bathroom. Just shy of an hour later, we're both showered and dressed, and ready to go to breakfast. As we're about to walk out the door, Edward's phone rings. "Sorry," he says, "just let me see who that is." He peers at the caller ID, and says, "My parents. Do you mind waiting a moment?"

"Of course not," I answer quickly, gesturing at the phone.

He answers; it's obviously Esme on the other end of the line. He walks away, towards the large windows and speaks quietly. Several times he turns to look at me, smiling gently as he talks to her. I try not to be intrusive of their privacy; but it's obvious he's giving her the gist of our conversation last night. From the happiness written on his face, I have to assume that Esme is sharing in his joy. Just before he ends the conversation, I hear him say, "I'll ask; but it's up to him, okay?" He tells her he loves her – which makes my heart swell – and says goodbye.

"Okay," he says, when he's hung up the phone. "Shall we?"

We walk to the diner hand in hand, strolling as though we have all the time in the world. Inside, we slide into the same booth we occupied last time, ordering the same breakfasts as before. Once the server has taken our orders and poured us each a coffee, he takes my hand on the tabletop. "So, my mom wanted me to ask you something; but I want you to know that you should feel free to say no – if you're not ready, or whatever reason – just say so…"

"Okay, you're making my palms sweat," I tell him. "What does she want to know?"

"She asked if you would accompany me to their house today, after we have breakfast, so she can meet you. You know, properly," he says, quietly adding, "this time."

"Oh," is my lame reply. Somehow, knowing what the request is doesn't relieve any of the stress.

"Yeah," he says awkwardly, clearly not knowing how to interpret my cryptic reply.

I muse, "I have already met her. And I know Carlisle – we've had our share of intense conversations. This couldn't possibly be worse than that."

"Well, that's a ringing endorsement," he teases gently; but then his face turns serious. "But really, Kas, if it's too soon, don't feel pressured. My mother will understand."

"No," I answer, squeezing his hand. "It's not too soon. You and I are already in this together, beautiful."

"We are," he smiles broadly.

"I want you to introduce me to your parents," I continue, "not as your father's coworker; but as the man you love."

He smiles, but his face is thoughtful. "Hmmm."

"What?"

"You said 'man'," he muses. "Have you ever noticed that we – everyone – uses the word 'boy'? When did that change?"

I'm struck by his observation; and as I ponder it I realize it's absolutely true. I've always used the word 'boy' in my head. What changed?

"I don't know, for sure," I reply slowly. "I think, maybe…we changed. I don't feel like a boy anymore; not after everything that's happened. I think, suddenly, we're grownups."

"Took us long enough," he grins, and lifts my hand to his lips to kiss it. The server brings our breakfast; it smells delicious and we both tuck into it, absolutely ravenous.

After breakfast we walk back to Edward's building to pick up his car, so we can drive to Carlisle and Esme's house. On the way, we pass Lake Union Prep, laughing over some of our old teachers as we swap horror stories. I direct Edward past my old house; and then he swings several blocks north, to his parents' house. As we park on the street in front of the house, I'm suddenly nervous.

Edward turns off the car and reaches for the door handle. He waits for me to open mine as well; but I'm frozen, welded in place from nerves. "Hey, angel," he says softly. "You okay over there?" I can't answer right away. He asks again, a bit more insistently this time. "Jasper? What's wrong?

"I'm nervous!" I choke out.

He looks at me in genuine amazement. "But you've already met them!"

"Well, I know your father, of course; but what about your mom? I met her once, and I can't imagine the impression I made was all that great!" I wince, remembering the scene at the restaurant.

"Kas," he says, and gently taking my chin, he turns my face to his. "They're going to love you – both of them." He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips to soothe my nerves.

I give him a long look and a weak smile, and take a deep breath. "Okay," I say, blowing it out. "Let's go in."

As we walk up their front walk, he takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and giving it a squeeze. At the front door, he raps on it sharply a couple of times, and then opens the door, not waiting for them to answer; it is, after all, his parents' home. As we step in, he calls out, "Anybody home?"

Visible from the foyer is the living room to the left, and it is from here that Carlisle emerges, with a very open and welcoming smile. "Hello, son," he says to Edward, clapping his hand on Edward's shoulder, then smiles broadly at me.

Edward replies, "Hi, Dad. I've brought someone home to meet you." As though we haven't already spoken numerous times before.

Carlisle plays along, though, grinning and nodding. "Let's wait for your mother. Esme?" he calls. "Are you coming, my dear?"

Esme steps into the foyer from the other direction. She also wears a broad smile, and gives Edward a kiss and a hug. "I'm glad you're here, dear," she smiles at him, and then turns to me.

Edward steps back to me, and puts one arm around my waist, looking at me as he says, "Mother and Dad, I'd like to introduce you to Jasper Whitlock…my partner." His face is beaming with happiness and pride; and I feel the same way at hearing the word "partner".

I return his glorious smile, and then turn to Carlisle and Esme. "Hello, Carlisle," I say, extending my hand, and he accepts it gladly. Turning to Esme, it's clear she expects more than a handshake. Her arms are open wide to me, and her eyes are brimming. I bend down to embrace her, saying, "Hello, Esme."

She hugs me tightly for a long moment. As she releases me, she says, "Jasper, we are so happy to welcome you to our home."

"Thank you both. I'm very glad to be here," I reply, looking from Esme to Carlisle, and then to Edward. He is watching the whole exchange with a beatific look.

"I'm going to give Jasper a tour of the house," he says.

"Certainly, darling," Esme replies. "Join us in the sunroom when you're done." Carlisle puts his arm around her and they stroll off in the direction from which Esme came.

The front foyer is large and open; set in the hardwood floor is a huge, ornate iron grate that covers the cold air return for the furnace. Despite the abundance of darker wood in the turn-of-the-century home, the color scheme is a light sand color throughout, balancing out the dark wood and keeping the overall feel very light and casual.

As I take in my surroundings, Edward takes my coat and hangs it in the closet off the foyer. He leads me up the staircase to the second floor, showing me his room. He blushes a bit when he indicates the posters on his walls from his teenage days, saying, "My parents haven't changed…um…anything." Down the hall, he indicates where Alice's room is, then the bathroom; a spare bedroom is next, followed by Carlisle and Esme's room.

Downstairs is the large formal living room and dining room, with Carlisle's study off the living room; at the back of the house is a large eat-in kitchen. He leads me back through to the front foyer, and then into the sunroom. I have to chuckle at the notion of a room devoted to the sun in a city that sees rain nine months or the year; but the room is large and bright nevertheless. There is a wood fire burning in a fireplace at one end of the room, and comfortable-looking furniture arranged throughout the room. Carlisle and Esme are each sitting in a large wingback chair; they smile at us as we stroll into the room, hand in hand.

Edward leads me to a love seat and we sit, facing them. A plate of gingersnaps and a pot of coffee sit on the low table in front of us. Esme pours us coffee for all of us, and insists we each try a gingersnap, even though we just finished stuffing ourselves at breakfast. We make small talk for a while; they ask me polite questions about my parents – Esme remembers my mother from Lake Union-related events – and whether I have any siblings.

In return, I ask questions about their house, their garden, and the volunteer work Esme has mentioned. Normal, getting-to-know-you questions, that keep us at the surface level; even though I'm sure there are things to be said that would dig far beneath the usual pleasantries of a new acquaintance.

Eventually we reach a lull in the conversation. After a moment or two, Esme breaks the silence.

"Jasper," she begins, "I think it would be a good idea to address the elephant in the room." I blanch a bit at her directness; but, hoping for the best, I nod and smile weakly. "Carlisle and I realize what a large part you played in Edward's return to us. I would like to think, of course, that eventually we would have reconciled, regardless." She pauses here and smiles at Edward, the patient smile a mother gives when correcting her errant child. "But even if that did happen, Edward may still have been alone at that time. Your presence in his life has had such a profound effect…" Her voice catches a bit, and Carlisle reaches out to take her hand where it rests on the arm of her chair. She smiles gratefully at him. "You make him very happy, Jasper," she murmurs, "and seeing it makes me tremendously happy. We owe you so much, and I am thrilled that we will have a chance to get to know you better, now that you two have decided to work things out."

I get up from my chair, and she rises to meet me in the middle of the room. We embrace; and my voice is thick with my own unshed tears when I reply, "I love your son, more than anything. He makes me happy, too; and knowing he has a relationship with you now, means so much to me." Edward and Carlisle both rise to stand beside us as Esme and I release each other. Carlisle slides his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to him; and Edward wraps both arms around my waist. We are a perfect picture of family happiness.

We chat for a few more minutes; then Edward looks at me and says, "Well, I think we should probably be going." I agree, and thank Esme and Carlisle for their kindness.

Soon we are saying our goodbyes, and Edward and I walk out the door. As it closes behind us, he grabs me around the waist, lifting my feet right off the ground and swinging me around as easily as though I were a small child. He has a jubilant smile on his face and I'm certain that my own smile is as brilliant. Still, I hiss, "Your parents' neighbors are going to be talking!!"

"Pffftt!" is his reply. "Let them!" He sets me down, but keeps his arms around my waist and pulls me close for a quick kiss. I swear I hear laughter from behind Carlisle and Esme's front door, but when I turn to look, there are no faces in the window.

Edward practically dances down the walk to the car. Once we're seated inside, he says, "They loved you! I told you they would. Didn't I tell you they would?"

Amused, I agree. "You did tell me they would."

"And you were nervous!" he scoffs. He continues chattering excitedly as we drive back to his building, talking about how they always have a big Fourth of July party and that he can't wait to take me to that. He mentions his younger sister Alice, and that maybe next time we visit them, she'll be there as well. I've never seen Edward chatty before, and it's frankly quite hilarious; though I keep my amusement disguised.

He's still talking when, back on the street in front of his building, he walks me back to my car. I'm heading home, as it's getting into mid-afternoon and I have some work to do at home, to prepare for some meetings this week. At my car, I turn to him and say, "I am thrilled to have met your parents. I love you." He returns the sentiment, and we share a long, slow kiss.

I unlock my car, get in and start it up. I let it warm up for a moment and he stands beside the car. I push the button to put the passenger's side window down, and he leans down to look in. "I really am relieved that it went so well," I say, and he smiles; then I add, "Let's hope it goes just as well when you meet my parents." And then I pull away.

I won't let him sweat it too long – I'll call him when I get home – but I can't help chuckling when I see him in the rearview, frozen in place on the curb, his mouth hanging open and a look of shock on his face.

-o-

Voting for the Bellies is open! Please visit www(dot)thecatt(dot)net/tw to vote for your favourite stories.

My Age of Edward contest entry has been posted as well; and the first round of AoE voting is open. You can find all the submitted entries, and the voting info, at the AoE profile: www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/~theageofedward. My story is called "L'est de Calais", and is an EdwardxJasper slash story as well. I hope you will check it out!

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Begin Again, by C-Me-Smile

Shelter, the movie

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