***I didn't say this in the last chapter, but I'm taking some parts of the dialog from Midnight Sun and Twilight—which, the dialog has to remain the same in order for this story to be canon. So, yes, Stephanie Meyer wrote a bit of that in the last chapter—and I'm trying to use as few of her words as possible, reinterpreting them through Jasper's eyes; however, these characters and the identifiable aspects of the Twilight books belong to Stephenie Meyer—the other stuff is my odd pen.
My recommendation: Amercnxidiot's Purgatory: a Love Story is just a fascinating fantasy fic—it's had a slower burn so far—but that's not a euphemism for "boring" in this case—it's a way of describing this eery world she's created, but but but NOW the story's into the rising action—Edward and Bella are getting along—and it promises to be a twisted pretzel, so come, come!
ElleCC is win for the beta!
This is my story for the FandomGivesBack, kudos to Bunnyslippersrok.
v^v^v
Cowboys Have Fangs, Too
Part 2.
^v^v^v^
Bella Swan was not what Jasper expected. As in, she was not even in the universe of the image that Jasper had conjured for Edward's mate. First of all, there was nothing particularly striking about her, though she was far from ugly. She wasn't fat. She didn't have any odd features, e.g., a puckered scar, a bulbous chin, buggy eyes, or weird moles. It was just that there was nothing distinctive about her at all. After so many years of feeling Edward's maudlin solitude, Jasper realized he'd been expecting someone unearthly to sweep his brother off his feet, a woman reminiscent of Helen of Troy—or Henry of Troy, as he and Emmett had joked—but upon seeing Bella Swan, Jasper couldn't help but feel a touch gypped.
"He can't hear her," Alice reminded him. "She's a puzzle to him."
Jasper shrugged. "It explains the interest, not the infatuation."
"You can't explain love and relationships—not that way."
"I've reached the conclusion that you can't explain love at all," Jasper murmured, brushing some dust particles off his sleeve.
"If anyone would know..." she trailed off, eying him at a slant." How do you explain us?"
Jasper kissed her forehead. "You put up with me, and I put up with your shopping."
Alice laughed before straightening in her chair and pressing her lips together in small moue. "Speaking of which, I bought something..." As Jasper felt the sexual tilt of her emotions, he edged closer to her on the sofa. She picked up his hand and kissed the top of his knuckles, flashing him a smile that was anything but demure.
v^v^v
About a year after they found one another, there was an incident on a train.
They were seated in the first class cabin, the small room all to themselves. They'd chosen a lesser-used route for this purpose. Alice was wearing something pretty, a pale green dress with ruffles and sleeves cut just below the shoulder. Jasper was wearing a cream-colored seersucker suit, allegedly to handle the heat, but mostly, he thought, because Alice had clapped her hands and beamed at him when he'd finally agreed to put it on. He internally scoffed even as he smiled. Charisma was supposed to be his talent.
The fact that they were on the train was also Alice's fault.
"Have you ever been on a train before?" she'd asked.
"No. Why would I?" Vampires could run much faster than a train.
Alice had frowned. "As a boy, were you impressed with steam locomotives?"
"I'm sure I was. I just don't remember."
She'd nodded, letting the topic go, but he could feel her longing curl around her, stinging and tight like barbed wire.
"Hey, none of that." He'd pulled her against him, kissing her temple. "Would you like to go on a train?"
Alice's expression had gone hazy in the same instant that she smiled, and then she'd replied, "Yes, I will like that."
Thus, here they were. Jasper was seated in the corner by the window. Alice sat nestled in his side, gazing out the window and bouncing in her seat along with the train as they passed by dairy farms, orchards in bloom, and the occasional small town depot, while the iron machinery chugged and clanked beneath their feet.
Then Alice went quiet. Her eyes fogged in a blink, and then she turned to face the door. "Someone's coming," she whispered. She gripped his hand, a silent warning for him to prepare himself. Jasper took a long breath. Outside the cabin, Jasper heard a pair of footsteps halt, and then a polite knock rapped on the metal cabin door.
"Please, come on in," Alice called.
The door clicked, then pushed open, and then a freckled porter in a smart grey uniform stuck his head in.
"Apologies for the intrusion, sir—" and then the porter's gaze fell upon Alice. His eyes widened, lingering on her face for longer than Jasper's liking—even if the man wasn't feeling lust so much as awe.
Jasper cleared his throat.
The porter seemed to collect himself, then straightened back into his formal posture. "Ma'am," he continued, "would you care for any refreshment? We also provide complimentary hot towels to remove the dust of the journey, should you wish them."
He sounded too eager. Jasper continued to glower at him.
"No, thank you," Alice answered. "We're fine as is."
"Of course, ma'am, but if you'll be needing anything at all, then just—" Then he caught Jasper's expression. He gulped.
"We're fine," Jasper added.
The porter ducked his head as a show of submission before backing out of the door, and Jasper heard the intake of air as a passing fellow passenger avoided knocking into him by a hair. Finally, the door slid shut.
Alice turned to him with obvious slowness, her bottom lip jutting out as she gave him a look of total disapproval.
"He smelled good," Jasper explained.
He got an eye roll.
"He was a ginger. You know how I feel about gingers."
Alice leaned her head back against the wall, and he felt mischief replacing her former mood. "I like red hair," she insisted. "It's rare."
"Actually, I was going to say that gingers taste extra spicy, but as for hair, I love your hair. I love you." He ran his fingers through her short almost-curls before letting his forehead fall to rest on the top of her head—but she shoved his face away.
"What would you say if...?" She examined his expression, and he could tell what she was doing. She was thinking of various pronouncements she could make right now and was testing possible outcomes.
"Ask it," he demanded, attempting to pull her face back to his.
She held back, this time with an ornery smile. "What would you say if I said that I liked his uniform?" she asked, leaning back at an angle that arched her chest so that shadow beneath the crease in the ruffle seemed to elongate just so...
Jasper shrugged his shoulders with nonchalance. "You like uniforms. Period."
"Ooooh, but this one was special. That smart grey. Those glistening buttons. That silver whistle. Those white gloves... just imagine what those crisp, white gloves could do to a—"
"He had freckles."
"He did. God, fuck, freckles," she mock-moaned.
"You're trying to provoke me."
"It's working." She laughed.
"It is." And then he pushed her down onto the bench. There was a groaning of wood as he pinned her. He was pretty sure Alice's dress was going to be stained with some of the finish.
"No!" Alice declared, shaking her head while laughing. He could feel her excitement and anticipation more than her desire. "Wait, one minute, please? I want to get something! Please," she urged.
With a sigh, Jasper leaned back, making a show of adjusting himself in his suit trousers as he sent Alice a small poke rich with his disappointment.
"I will be right back," she insisted, righting herself before standing. She gave her dress a playful swish, and then she opened and sailed through the cabin door.
Jasper leaned back, frustrated. He gave a glum look down at the bulge along his right thigh. "Sorry, there, ranger," he apologized. "She'll be back."
However, five minutes later Alice was not back.
The train was moving along the river now, and Jasper was finding the consistency of the mills, barges, and flat floodplains to be uninteresting, especially without Alice there to point out every detail to him with her guileless, big eyes and excessive gesticulations.
But then he heard the clop of footsteps down the hall. Alice did not clop. It was the porter—who stopped in front of the cabin door and knocked.
Jasper debated a minute before taking a breath of air and calling out, "Door's open."
The porter stuck his head in with a smile and the feeling of... anticipation—only to have his smile falter when he saw only Jasper in the room.
"Yes?" Jasper asked through his teeth.
"I came with tea service," he explained, and his freckled skin flushed—and Jasper had to close his eyes because he could almost taste the threads of blood running along those cheekbones. "You would like tea, yes?"
Jasper opened his mouth to respond, to say, "no," but then the porter took a step forward, and the train gave an unexpected jolt, which made the porter trip.
As the porter slipped, Jasper saw the tea pot on the tray begin to slide, rotate, and then—the porter tried to catch it—but—the hot liquid hit his hand, and Jasper could smell the effect on the skin, the mutilation of cells as the hot liquid scalded them.
Jasper was by the porter's side in the next moment. He had the tray out of the porter's fingers; the tin kettle and porcelain cups, stable on the bench. He had the towel pressed against the man's burnt hands. "There now," Jasper said—which was a mistake—because then he was out of air, and the man's neck was so close—that smell—and the man's breathing was already rapid from the adrenaline rush of the accident.
The porter did not say anything at first—he was focused on the pain—but as Jasper leaned in closer, he felt the man's sudden apprehension. He felt the porter's back tense.
"It's all right. I know it hurts," Jasper whispered, and then he was sending a wash of numbing, drowsy calm through the man.
"Thanks," the porter murmured. His eyes were fluttering, fighting against the effects of Jasper's emotional transfer, and then the porter started to sway.
Jasper grabbed him before he could slump back, but then the man's flushed neck was beneath him. Jasper could see the wiggle of his narrow Adam's apple, he could see throbbing from the main artery, and even more, he could feel the man's total, drowsy surrender.
Jasper's mouth flooded with venom; his nostrils flared.
"This won't hurt... too much," he added in a whisper.
He pressed his lips down, almost like a nuzzle—he just wanted to smell... But then his teeth touched and cut and were slicing through the layers of skin and flesh, and the rose of it touched his tongue, and his mind burst open, and it was over: the roll of soothing heat down his throat. The way the beating heart felt against his chest, pumping each gulp into him. The ways it bound his entire body and made him forget everything in the world.
It had been so long, and the sweetness was so much that he took in too much too fast. He half-choked, the blood spilling down his chin, even as he licked to catch every drop and drank in more, even as he and his prey slumped lower and lower to the floor as Jasper's desire to focus on anything as trivial as standing up on two legs gave way.
Her fleet footsteps registered three cars down.
He should have stopped then.
Instead, he sucked harder, even as his mind was reeling from what was to come.
The porter's heart stopped at the same second that the cabin door flew open.
Alice: gorgeous, furious.
She punched him. The blow sent him flying backwards. He gained his balance at the last second, avoiding what would have been a flight out of the window.
Then he looked at her. Felt her.
Anger. Disappointment. Guilt.
"I didn't—"
Alice cut him off with a wave of her hand. She shook her head at him, her eyes squeezed shut. Her jaw set. "Just don't—don't say anything." She shook her head again, this time as if to clear her thoughts, and then she continued in a controlled tone. "We have to dispose of the body, check for possible risks. Then we'll jump ship. We'll have to find a place to..." she trailed off.
"I'll get us a hotel," Jasper whispered.
"No. You can't be around people. We'll have to start all over again—besides..." and here, her shoulders drooped. "Your eyes, Jasper. They're red. They won't be gold again for months." He nodded, standing silent, useless, and guilt-ridden because of what this meant. They'd have to put off their search. She wanted to follow her visions. They were supposed to be heading north. She'd last seen them in the North. Now they would have to...
When Alice bent down to lift the corpse off the floor, Jasper took steps forward, but Alice shook her head at him again, her eyes still severe. She turned back to the body of the porter. She straightened the edges of his uniform and smoothed out the wrinkles. Then she grabbed her handkerchief out of her pocket and daubed away the blood smear along the neck. She brushed her hands over his eyelids, shutting away the unfocused blue irises.
Then, with the body balanced in her arms, she cracked open the door—but the hall was empty. They both knew it. He heard her pull the body down the passage, to what he presumed was a closet, and then there was the muffle of the body being settled. Finally, he heard her whisper, "Jasper, let's go."
Nevertheless, he stood still for a moment.
Because he was staring at the small bundle on the floor. It was what Alice had been carrying as she walked in—not that he'd noticed at the time.
He bent down and picked it up.
A spare porter's uniform.
He set it down on the bench. With weighted steps, he went to follow his wife.
v^v^v
The day before Bella was supposed to come over, Edward marched into the library and decided to give Jasper a warning.
"Give her space, Jasper. I don't want to have to deal with a single wayward thought in your brain—I want you to meet her—but I swear if you even have a single thought—"
"Edward—back off—he's not going to do anything," Alice interjected, skipping in front of Jasper.
Edward gave a dark chuckle. "She smells good, and she's has no inner sense of balance. I don't want any—"
"You, Carlisle, and I will be there. Besides, Jasper does not want to drink Bella. Do you, honey?"
Jasper shook his head at Edward with a half-grin. "No way. I'll be sure to hunt. Besides, you're easier to put up with when your girlfriend's around." He gave Edward a light punch in the shoulder.
Alice covered her mouth to hide her smile.
Edward rolled his eyes at the both of them. "Fine. I was only being cautious."
He stomped off.
v^v^v
The first words Alice had ever said to Jasper were, "You've kept me waiting."
Upon later reflection, Jasper had realized that if any other person had said such words to him, he would have assumed the worst—bristled—possibly even left the diner. Heck, even if he'd known his companion well enough, at the very least, he would have settled for a nasty comeback, but with Alice it was always different. There was never any hint of expectation, of control. Her aura was simply... happy, playful. It was loving.
She loved him.
He'd felt that, the moment he met her, as pure as anything. Like air. Just as clear.
It was absurd, and yet it drew him in like nothing he had ever known—because Alice didn't care about the macabre lacquer of his past, just like she didn't care about the scars that marked a webbed geography about his flesh, or the fact that the way forward for him seemed to be a loop back to where he was the day before, as if he was twisted in a web of his own making. Alice was about potential. The road ahead, wide and bright.
He remembered when he first asked Alice about her talent. They were in a hotel in Philadelphia. They had been together less than a week.
"You see multiple paths? You know what's going to happen? What about choice?"
"Yes. Sometimes. It depends."
Jasper laughed, leaning back onto the bed and pulling the pillow up around his ears on either side.
Alice pulled herself up and leaned down over his side. "Some things are so clear—like the weather, the stock market, you, the Cullens—but others are... complicated," she finished, her nose squishing up as she pursed her lips.
"What about us—right now?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, her brow furrowing as if in intense concentration, and then she held her hands out on either side, fingers pressed as if in formal yogi meditation or something, as she hummed in a teasing tone, "Jasper Whitlock will have at least one orgasm, possibly two if he pleases Alice to her—"
She didn't get to finish because Jasper pulled her onto him and kissed her. Alice laughed into the kiss, and Jasper's hands slid down her back, pulling her tighter against him as her tongue traced along the sharp edges of his teeth. She responded back with equal vigor, swinging a thigh over his leg and pushing with her kiss, pressing his head into the pillow, but not one to be conquered, he pushed back. He flicked his tongue against hers, then pressed with only a gentle nudge of the pink tip, but then he relaxed and wondered at how the taste of his venom mixing with hers somehow made it all the more sweeter.
What made the kiss finally end was when Alice raised her arms so that Jasper could push the sheer fabric over her hips, past her breasts, and off her arms.
While Jasper had moved slowly, Alice did not. He had teased her, and now Alice responded with haste. She used her teeth on his top shirt button. Her fingers snapped the rest.
When she went for his pants button, he caught her hands. "Gentle with the pants button," he cautioned.
She gave him a fixed stare, and then grabbed both sides of the seam, and she ripped those, too.
Jasper yelped. "Jesus-fucking-Christ, Alice!" But his complaints didn't last all that long, because then Alice's impetuous passions crashed down upon him at the same time that her hard thighs did, and Jasper gave a long groan as he felt her, tight and slick and clamped upon him.
"Shsshhit," he hissed, and then he grabbed her, and his hands were pushing her ass up and down, moving her up and down upon him.
"That okay?" Alice breathed out.
"Ehhsgood," Jasper blurted through the strain, his hands gripping her harder and moving, and she opened her mouth to make some other remark but then Jasper slammed her down harder, and she rotated her hips, and they both moaned.
"We don't always have to go at a gallop, you know," Jasper murmured between pants.
"I didn't want to know what would happen..." she replied through gritted teeth. "I just wanted to feel."
...that would explain—a lot.
"Got it," Jasper replied, holding Alice's hips still for the moment.
She gave him a wry smile back. "Yes—now, hush up. Move."
And then, well, talking was not an option, for they were lost to the feel of it, and it was such that Alice's lust was feeding Jasper's lust, and Jasper's lust was feeding back into her, and they were both panting, despite the fact they needed no oxygen, and Alice's head was arced back—her eyes unfocused, but this time she wasn't looking at the future. She was so now, and her breasts were pert and luminous despite the shoddy light of the room, and she felt... The moist, ungodly coaxing pressure generated by it was making Jasper almost lose his rhythm.
He knew that she was close when he felt her go rabid-red above him, pulsing in sequence like blood through the organs of the heart, then twisting and untwisting, and Jasper locked onto the beat of it, and then they were both loud and off-key in the throes of it as grunts turned into long-held growls and then "fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fucks" that were sang out until they cut off.
One long moment of silence.
Then Jaspers fingers found the shape of her arms, and he gave a lazy pull to drag her mouth to his again. Her lips were loose and soft when theirs met, and she snuggled tighter to him, both of them basking in the afterglow of the moment—which was all the more heightened by Jasper's cloud of peaceful bliss that suffused the room.
An hour later, they were still clutched about each other, and Alice said, "We can go slower... this next time." Jasper saw her brow furrow, as she was already looking ahead.
"No plans. We can go however we want."
"But sometimes I like plans." Alice nodded.
"They won't bore you?" he asked.
"Not if the path is new... it's not like I can taste or smell or feel in my visions—I just hear and see."
This was an incentive for Jasper to lick Alice's ear.
She giggled. "And since everything has been new..."
That stopped Jasper. They'd met, it all had been so immediate, and he'd never even asked... "Everything—have you ever—I mean been with—?" He made himself close his trap.
Nevertheless, he could tell that Alice understood. She shrugged. "I don't know. Don't remember."
Jasper nodded, and then tensed, realizing he was about to enter into a conversation that he was not in any way looking forward to. Talking to Alice about Maria would be...
Alice laughed. "It's okay. I already know what you would say if I asked you."
He felt something akin to panic. "None of it meant anything before—not like this," he told her. He sent the force of his meaning, at her—wanting her to know how much he meant it.
Alice watched him for a minute, calm as ever. Then, she leaned down to look into his eyes. "I know. Just like I knew your name before I met you."
He smiled, and then he asked, "Alice, if you woke up and didn't remember your past, how did you know your own name?"
"I just knew it."
"What about your last name?"
"It will be Cullen." She sounded so sure.
Jasper gave her a rather sour frown. "Well, I was going to lend you mine, but since you've already promised that you're going to—"
Laughing, Alice cut him off. "I can have more than one last name."
"Really?" he asked.
However, Alice's face had twisted into a pout. "Was that a proposal? Because if it was..."
She would want something more elaborate—he knew. Probably in Paris with a harvest moon and string quartet in the background—which he wasn't ready to supply at this exact moment, so he avoided the conversation by kissing her again. By the light in her eyes and the way she laughed again, he almost wondered if Paris was exactly what she was seeing.
Either way, it didn't matter. Their limbs entwined, smooth and hard, and they both forgot about everything.
v^v^v
Jasper knew for a fact that Alice was not going to kill Bella.
Edward also knew this, and oddly enough, Bella seemed to be aware of this—which sent Jasper wondering about her mental state...
However, Esme and Carlisle did not know this. They had no telepathic or empathetic tools to know.
Thus when Alice slid down the banister, greeted "Hi, Bella," bounced over to kiss the girl's cheek, and told her, "You do smell nice, I never noticed before," Jasper felt obliged to douse the room in a veritable swamp of calm—and save Carlisle and Esme from his wife's gregariousness.
Bella noticed him. She scanned him over with a touch of apprehension, but it was strange. He didn't feel the prickling sense of fear that he normally felt from humans. Instead, he felt her shyness—not her fear. She was nervous about meeting him.
Interesting.
And yes, he noted, she did smell good.
"Hello, Bella," Jasper greeted her. He gave a quick dip of his head. He did not extend his hand. He wasn't missing the protective glare that Edward was giving him out of the corner of his eye. He was sure that the thoughts on her smell had not helped all that much in that area.
"Hi, Jasper," Bella returned with an easy smile, and a hint of—deduction—Jasper thought. She knew that he was using his power, which meant that...
You're a big mouth, he thought at Edward.
Edward gave a twitch of a shrug, though his eyes never left Bella, who was exchanging pleasantries with Esme.
She's not afraid of us, for whatever reason. She's just shy—which is still screwed to high hell. She should be shaking in her boots with five vampires in such proximity.
Edward spared him a glance then and gave him a quick nod, one that was filled with a mix of emotions: fear, frustration and also...
You're in love with her? Jasper asked himself as much as he posed the question Edward.
He felt Edward's tension at his words, a quaking rawness, but then Edward snapped his gaze at Carlisle—who was focused on informing Edward about the possible arrival of the nomads Alice had seen in her vision, earlier that morning
After which Edward was the one half-shaking in his boots.
Even Bella noticed, but then she focused on the piano in the drawing room.
Esme leaped on that—it allowed her to play hostess—and then Edward was seated at the piano bench and playing, and everyone was listening until Alice had some vision or another—some romantic moment, and then she sprung into action, and they all found themselves being soundlessly herded out of the room.
"Is he going to change her?" Jasper asked Alice once they were alone in their room.
Alice huffed and crossed her arms around her as she plopped herself in an armchair. "He should, but..."
"He won't," Jasper finished, and then he shook his head. "What a dumbass."
Alice gave a slow nod in reply. She was still listening to the piano notes from downstairs. "He doesn't want to..." and here, it seemed she was searching for the right word. "He doesn't want to subvert her—her humanity, mostly."
"Well, better that than kill her."
Alice shook her head. "I never see him drinking her anymore."
"You see her as one of us."
"I do—but then I don't. She wants it, but he wants—well, he's Edward."
Downstairs the song ended on a high, sad note, and with the gradual elevation in Bella's heartbeat along with the music, Edward's emotions had begun to shift, to the point that Edward's pants were now feeling rather uncomfortable...
"Who gets off on tragedy, apparently," Jasper muttered in disbelief.
Alice gave him a worried look. "I don't want to know. Do I?"
Jasper shook his head. "No, not as much." He'd tell Emmett later though...
v^v^v
They'd been together for more than a year when Alice sprung from a willow and tackled Jasper.
Jasper was tracking a coyote pack. They were in Illinois, south of Chicago and following the river up toward the city. It was the time of year where the neon green buds peaked out from last year's compost and migrating birds packed the trees, disturbing the forest with their obnoxious chirping.
It was when Jasper was distracted by one such white shit-laden tree full of sparrows that Alice tackled him.
Because he was hunting, Jasper's reactions took over, and as her heel came for his chest, he grabbed for it while twisting his body out of the line of fire—but then his hand never caught her heel—because Alice's slipper was gone before his fingers gripped, and she was flying up, a slash of lavender among the dark branches overhead, and she had both hands on an overhanging branch and swung in a 360 degree circle before letting go and landing in a neat y-stance, with arms held to the sky and a triumphant smile on her face.
Jasper was no longer in attack mode at that point, but he was pissed as hell. "You could have—I could have—What the fucking hell were you thinking?" he demanded, stalking towards her.
His anger seemed to bounce right off her. "I fought you!" Alice declared with unabashed glee.
Alice's joy had its effect. Jasper tried to stay angry, but a smile leaked into the corner of his mouth, and Alice knew that she had him. He sighed, shaking his head in partial defeat, and asked, "So what the hell was that?"
"I wanted you to fight me," she explained, still ignoring his anger.
"Couldn't you just ask?"
"I could have, but it wouldn't have worked." Alice gave him another blithe smile.
"Perhaps because I have no desire to fight the woman I love."
"That is so boring."
"Yes, it is. My apologies," Jasper muttered. "But no—I will not fight you. Besides, we need to hunt." And with that, he cast a line of hunger at her, which caused her to swallow and clutch her throat. Job done, Jasper sniffed the air, the scent of the coyotes was headed north, but there was another scent of deer from the northeast.
He set off.
Alice shadowed his steps. "Just so you know, I'm going to keep attacking you until you teach me," she informed him as they chased the trail.
"Deer or doggies," Jasper asked, ignoring her threats.
"Coyotes," Alice replied with a roll of the eyes. "There's an over-infestation here, anyway." She was trying to sound natural—flippant, even, and yet he could feel the calculated tilt to her alleged "unconcern."
"I have your number. You're not going to catch me off guard again."
Alice spun to face him with crossed arms, while at the same time, her eyes went unfocused, and she searched the future ahead. Jasper waited. At first, he felt spikes of interest, followed by coils of disappointment, but then he felt the pulse of hope—anticipation—and then Alice had the facade of nonchalance back in place.
"Alice," he warned.
"There's a circus ahead," she informed him with clasped hands. "—and one of the trapeze artists broke their ankle in the last show—but if we show up..."
Jasper groaned. "No. No fucking way are you getting me to swing on a chopstick in a room full of humans."
Alice ignored him, grabbing his hand and pulling them both forward. "My costume will be alternating shades of blue strips, with a tartan border, and a satin skirt."
"I don't care what the hell—"
"The skirt fails to cover my entire ass."
"Which you apparently want to show to a room full of strangers."
"If you'd come too, it'd make me so, so happy."
"No. That is a debt that could never be reconciled."
Alice grinned. "Oh, but I think I could." Parallel twists of mischief and desire began to lace around her.
Jasper watched her through narrowed eyes. "How is that?"
"Well…" She leaned in close, and her lips brushed the lobe of his ear as she whispered. "For starters, it involves a lion, a whip, and a high wire…"
Jasper could not help it. He was all ears.
v^v^v
The next time it happened, they were hunting again. It was early morning, and they were wading through knee-high snow drifts and idly tracking a moose's trail as the snow continued to feather down from the white sky.
In front of him, Alice stiffened.
Jasper opened his mouth to ask at the same time that the scent breached his nasal receptors.
Blood.
He plunged ahead, mind out of body as the line of red velvet strung him forward. He had only a passing awareness of the snow exploding around him as he ran, of the thin branches snapping as he smacked through them—and then—her.
But it was too late, then. She caught his shoulder before he could duck.
Snarls erupted in the ditch, as she swung him around, her boot smashing into his thigh and sending him sailing down the slant of the ditch and into a deadened oak at the bottom.
Which was about the time he realized what had just happened.
Spitting a twig out of his mouth, Jasper growled.
Alice's face maintained its self-satisfied smirk, crouched as she was at the top of the ridge.
"Did you know beforehand?" he asked.
"About the human?"
"Yes."
"Maybe."
"Maybe means yes," Jasper muttered.
"A little yes." She pinched the air to show just how little.
Jasper kicked the snow. "This isn't going to stop, is it?"
"I told you it wouldn't."
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"Fine. Now bend your knees."
He felt Alice's entire body light up with excitement. "And what else?" Her eyes were huge.
"Your advantages are your speed, your size, and your talent. You need to stay as small as possible. Defense first. Offense only when you know you have the full advantage to strike. Now, turn your body at this angle." He demonstrated, pulling his leg back behind him.
Alice mirrored his stance. "And what about you? What are your advantages?"
He leaped up the ridge of the ditch. He pushed her back and into the snow before she could stop him, and then he grabbed her chin, pushing her face away as he leaned close to her ear, and asked her, "Do you have to ask?"
She did not ask again.
v^v^v
Alice didn't look up from the magazine in her hands. "Also, there's going to be thunder tonight—on the south side of the mountain, mostly, but it'll hit the field."
Jasper went to the window and examined the sky. He could hear the flutterer of the wind off the glass—it was from the north now, but that would change. The sky was its usual grey, but night was approaching, and hints of mauve in the clouds indicated the onset of the end of day.
"Baseball?" he asked.
"Batter up."
"Will Emmett and Rose get over themselves and come?" he asked as he returned to sit on the bed.
"There will be no keeping Emmett from a game. Rose will do her thing, but she'll play. She'll probably try to slide tackle Edward, though."
Jasper laid back. "But that's always a given."
"Of course."
But Jasper shot up straight on their bed.
Because on third floor, in Edward's room, there was a burst of predation, followed by the sound of feet leaving the floor. The clamor of weight hitting the leather couch. Bella's airborne gasp.
Jasper stilled himself. Alice did, too.
He half-expected to smell-blood.
But he didn't.
Instead, he heard laughter. Bella was mildly annoyed. Edward was happy, playful even.
What the fuck?
"He was only messing with her," Alice explained. She returned to flipping pages.
"But he felt so..." Jasper shook his head to clear his mind. "It's still incautious."
"Fine, go bother them, long nose. You want to."
"Vigilance," he muttered, but then he was down the hall, up the stairs, and standing in front of Edward's door. He wasn't surprised when he heard Alice's footsteps stop behind him.
He held up his hand to knock, before pausing and holding it in the air... on the other side Bella's breathing was elevated—and not just from Edward's attack on her person—there was uncurling of her libido, too.
With an eye roll, Alice called over Jasper's shoulder, "Can we come in?"
Through the door, he heard Edward's chuckled, "Go ahead."
Edward thought Jasper's hesitation was funny.
Alice ducked under Jasper's arm, pushed the door open, and charged on in, announcing, "It sounded like you were having Bella for lunch, and we came to see if you would share."
Embarrassed, Bella's face flushed, which seemed to amuse Edward all the more, because he gave them a wry smile, leaning over Bella's shoulder. "Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," he teased.
Jasper needed a subject change. The situation was too bizarre. "Actually, Alice says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Emmett wants to play ball. Are you game?"
Edward responded with a clash of excitement and apprehension, tensing with Bella in his arms.
Before Jasper could respond, Alice declared, "Of course you should bring Bella."
Jasper shot a glare at Alice. So much for vigilance...
"Do you want to go?" Edward turned to look Bella in the eyes.
Of course she's going, Jasper thought at Edward. She's as weird as you are.
Edward ignored him because Bella was concerned about the weather, which was funny. The only time that the Cullens concerned themselves about the weather were the five days a year that Forks managed to have some sunshine—or, of course, when lightning made an unexpected show in the Pacific Northwest.
Alice grabbed his hand. "Let's go see if Carlisle will come."
Apparently, Edward and Bella needed their alone time. "Like you don't know." Jasper shook his head as he followed her out of Edward's room.
Now, they needed to see about placating Rosalie.
v^v^v
Next chapter goes up on Friday.
:o)
Love to you all.