AN. Ummmm... hello? *waves timidly* Yeah, that updating plan I had? MAJOR fail! 2010 has been a bitch, and things got hectic! To summarise, it went a little something like this – feel free to skip my little pity session here: flu / Christmas / more flu / most of Vegas in bed with aforementioned flu / skiing (yippee ki yay) / sitting in the airport waiting for my flight to be called... Haiti earthquake alert on my phone – Me... 'oh. fuck.' Barman... 'more ice?' / glue the phone to my ear & one hand to the mouse for the next month (for anyone that didn't catch my profile page updates, I work with natural hazards, & did a lot of work on that) / cold / science book segment submission / more Haiti work / cold / consultancy project / still have the cold – why, oh why, oh why, immune system?!? / journal paper submission / massive consultancy project of win and awesomeness / and then... Thursday-today when I said I was updating: concussion from some drunk twat falling and head butting me on the train home / ANOTHER cold / beta had asthma attack and then Muse tickets. *takes a breath & catapults whiney alter ego out the window* But here we are... finally! And I have to give a MASSSSSSSSIVE shout out to JaspersDestiny (Tina), for stepping in a whipping out her Mr Clean to beta the ass out of this so I could post it! I love her, like a box of chocolates. Yes Tina, I forest gumped you – that's how much I Love you! Kisses, hugs, and pretzels, biatch! And to all of my Lambs, who I've got nothing but hearts, fuckery, porn, and lolcats for – if you haven't visited alsltwilight(dot)blogspot(dot)com go check it out!
I have lots of 20 written already, which is magnificent because unless you've been under a rock today, you'll have heard about an earthquake and subsequent tsunami in Chile that has the potential to suck me under work wise. But it's pretty much there, and I've been doing major scheduling rearranging over the last few weeks to make sure TLM happens (because it's my love, and I'm not abandoning it EVER – just to make that clear), so we're now back on regular every other week updating – which I'm fucking joyous about, because I've missed TLM so so so much! Picture and text teasers, along with mini treats are going up on my blog catonspeedland(dot)blogspot(dot)com & you're more than welcome to harass my ass on twitter.
Thanks to anyone who chased and poked me, and to anyone who is still reading this despite my rubbishness. You make my day.
Let's get on with show shall we, because it's been too long already! Here's JPOV, BPOV, and a lot of fucking words.
L x
####UPDATE#### because you guys are fucking awesome, and I hit the 1,000 club (which shocked the ever loving shit out of me), I've released the picture teaser for the next chap waaaaaaaay early - you'll see why when you get to the end ;)
JPOV
There are very few facts in life that are indisputable, but over the past three months, I have come to discover that there are three things I can add to the list of 'things I have never been more certain of'.
One: Babysitting sucks ass. It sucked ass in Mexico, and it still sucks ass now. I'm good at it, but no matter how patient I tell myself to be, I am - at times - an impatient motherfucker.
Two: Getting frustrated, and announcing this fact, is a bad fucking idea.
Three: One Miss Isabella Swan, formerly of Forks by way of Phoenix, and every which way in between, has one hell of a right hook. Oh, and it's best to not piss the lady off. Ever. I just want to show her stuff - show her that not everyone out there is a complete shit - but I can't do that if she's going to go postal when out amongst the humans. We're getting there, but it's just taking time... which brings me back to fact number one, and there starts the vicious circle again. I push, she pushes, I push her some more, and she eventually snaps and tries to take a bite. It's instinctual. And whilst I don't blame her, I won't hesitate to put the smack down on her until she calms the fuck down. I need the time, too, as every step we take puts me back in Mexico, where the sounds, smells, and feelings wriggle and writhe inside of me, making my limbs and fingers twitch with violent anticipation. But this is different in so many ways, and I choose to make it different. When Bella thrashes beneath me on the ground, I stroke her hair, whisper in her ear, and soothe her. When she reaches her breaking point, I hold her. I don't put the fear of God, or me, into her. But when she needs a push, I'm there, feet planted, using the laws of physics to gain extra leverage because that lady is as stubborn as an ass. I watch, I listen, and I stay close. The millimetres we gain are milestones. Every day we start again, and the process continues. We push forward together.
Fuck. I need to add a fourth fact... If it can go wrong, it will go wrong. My errant thought back on her first hunt about Boy Scouts was apparently not too far off the fucking mark. Although she didn't stalk them, the little fuckers practically gift-wrapped and delivered themselves to her door. We live at the end of an eight mile long dirt track in the middle of Buttfuck, Texas, and they send the kiddies out to door-to-door thin mints around here? Jesus-fucking-Christ, are they hoping the little shits aren't going to come back alive?! This brings me back to fact number three, as the local scout troupe nearly lost a few members that day.
We'd been working on her sensory overload because whilst spacing out like a loon gives Bella this cute little dazed look, she needs to learn to get that shit on lock. Whilst we're not in the depths of battle - and she's damn sure not getting near any - being surprised by shit is not good, and she needs to learn how to look after herself, especially with Peter here. That fucker needs to be treated like a grenade. So there we were, pumping MTV Dance through the 60" HD LCD TV, and the surround sound system we have hooked up in the sitting room at warp 10 - because nothing will quite transfix you like bedazzled, neon, latex-clad monkeys playing with a techno synthesizer. You just can't look away, and your ears get trapped in the baseline.
Three hours in, and we were all so hooked in that when the doorbell rang and Bella got up to answer it on autopilot, none of us noticed the tiny beating hearts over the sound of The Chemical Brothers - at least not until she'd gotten that front door halfway open, that is. She'd been alright until the scent wave of hot, sweaty, little morsels broke across the threshold, at which point her mind flipped the Kill Switch, and the three of us were scrambling across the hallway to tackle her to the floor - which is where she got the swing in. It's been a long time since someone landed one on me.
Her face was ethereal in its animalistic fury – she was gone, and there was nothing left of that beautiful, sarcastic woman who'd bitched me out on her death bed all those weeks ago when she'd dropped out of nowhere and into our lives. Her eyes were narrowed slits, bubbling with an intensity that itched and crawled at something deep inside of me. Her body rolled and flowed in position, angling for the perfect striking position. She was the hunt embodied, and for a moment I wanted to give myself over to the creature who whispered from the darkness to me to join her. I couldn't, though. I'd promised her that I would save her from herself when she couldn't. I'd promised myself that I'd be the man who was worthy of the kind of trust she'd placed in me. It still felt wrong to bring down something so beautiful, but that wasn't going to deter me. She was so focused on the scene before her that I was able to clear her legs from beneath her, quickly pinning her face down on the floor, arms behind her back, as Charlotte sat on her legs. You could hear the echoes of the floor tiles giving way in tiny snaps, crackles, and pops down the alcoved passageway as she growled, thrashing like hell to get to the little lunchables, venom just pouring from her mouth like a river and pooling across the floor.
The children were framed in the open doorway - mouths gaping open, eyes starry-wide, hearts whirring like high speed tops, and the smell of fear and urine - and the darkening of tiny pairs of shorts - floating in the air. The sun was over the other side of the house, so we weren't giving them a light show - but, shit, this could go bad fast. Luckily, this was one of the few times when Peter's special brand of fucked up comes in handy because he just rolled his eyes at them, leaned in, beckoning them close, and whispered, "She used to be like...reaaaaaally fat, kiddies." He gestured widely with his arms, whilst puffing out his cheeks and giggling like a mad man at them, "It's dangerous to have chocolate near her." A few cheeky winks, some fat jokes, twenty cases of the foul-smelling chocolate they were toting lighter, and $2,000 in their collective pockets later, and the boys were skipping up the drive, giggling and laughing, never knowing how close they'd come to death. I pray for the parents of those children, though, because those little fuckers have their bartering skills down - we're talking future stockbrokers of America here. I'm almost tempted to get their names so they can manage some of my money in a couple of years' time.
As the sounds and scents of pumping blood dissipated with their departure, we were left with the aftermath - a split between tearless sobs and the desire to track their trailing paths out into the desert. I'd seen it and felt it a thousand times before, but it's still heart wrenching to witness. Whilst her emotions were still blocked off to me, I could literally feel the fight seep out of her from beneath me, submitting to the force of my body on hers, as she slowly regained her senses. The first time is always the hardest, and whilst it never gets easier, you learn to manage the impact - not that I fared much better, even now. Even though they'd been children, the desire had still been there, and if they'd seen just a little bit more... well... I'd like to think it wouldn't have gone another way, but who can really say for sure? Sadly, it wouldn't be the first time for me, but I prayed every day that it would never happen again - that I would never stoop to that. The only thing I could do was draw her shuddering figure tightly into my arms as she begged and wailed for me to not let her go after them, hoping that I could offer something to her, even if it was just the force to restrain her while she broke down for the both of us.
That had been a quiet night for us all.
None of the camaraderie or games we'd enjoyed in the prior weeks. Just contemplation.
Peter and Charlotte had snuck out at some point - I don't know when. I was just focused on the figure still clinging to me like a life raft in the hallway. We didn't move for hours. I just held her whilst her mind wandered. I don't know if it helped, but I like to think it did. I wish someone had been there for me when I'd been like this, but our experiences were so different. I was never denied anything in those first few years - even then Maria had seen something in me, and I was never hungry, and never without company. I was determined that Bella would experience everything I wish I had had the chance to, and my promise to her was solidified even more in those hours of silence. I wouldn't fail her. She shed the emotions I wish I could have let go of back then. It was oddly cathartic for me, as though she was bearing it enough for the both of us, allowing me to stay strong for her. The memory of her broken figure there on the ground was all the motivation I needed.
Of course, the quiet couldn't last. Peter had to make their reappearance known, as if the strong smell of sex that wafted in with them wasn't enough.
"Oooooh! I feel all exposed and vulnerable and in need of a hug from a basket of kittens! Char, can we get kittens? I promise I won't let Jasper eat the pussies! We'll get ones that smell really bad."
It's a good thing Charlotte is always ready with that backhand of hers because I was arms full of Bella, and I didn't intend on letting go until she was ready. The crack of rock on rock was enough to snap Bella out of her funk, though, and her scramble off the floor was so fast - even for a vampire - that it was almost comical. If she could still blush, we'd have felt the effects of her rosy glow right then. I just stared that fucker down - I would never feel bad about holding her.
That was the point when things got serious for me, and my mind kicked into gear to devise a way to train her to deal with the lure of humanity. Systematic desensitization was the plan. It was something Carlisle had always wanted to try with me, but I didn't fancy being treated like another one of his little experiments at the time. That man wasn't happy unless he was poking or prodding some shit, and it damn well wasn't going to be me. Fucking Alice never pushed for it either, but then again, God forbid I get any control and be let off the short leash that cunt me on. Bitch. The plan was to gradually expose Bella to small samples of blood, and work our way up from there.
It did not start fucking well.
Peter and Charlotte managed to secure the samples. I don't know where they came from, and frankly, as long as the person fit their criteria and wasn't going to be breathing much longer, or if they swiped it from a blood bank, I didn't really give a damn. The fresher, the better. I couldn't do it, and my trust in them was absolute.
We all talked through the whole process. But still, it was only an idea - I just hoped it wasn't a fucking stupid one, and that it didn't cause the pair of us to get sucked under. Amazon did a lot of fucking business that week, and we now stocked more books and journal papers on addiction and rehab than a Betty Ford clinic.
The first time they uncovered that tiny sample, I wanted to lick the shit out of that petri dish. It was just fucking there, and I didn't have to kill anyone to get to it. It wouldn't harm anyone... But I didn't. Too much of my focus was on the trembling figure next to me. I'd gained a little bit more control since 'The Birthday Party Heard Around the World', getting to the point where I could sit along the perimeter of the local bars, dissuading anyone from getting too close with a nice healthy dose of fear. It was nice to indulge in some blissed-out, intoxicated vibes from time-to-time, and I could quickly shut down any stirrings of violence before they sucked me in and under. Now, I thought Bella was doing really fucking well, and I congratulated myself on a job well-done the first few times we repeated the desensitization process, feeling all smug and cocky as shit, until I realised she was completely shutting down - refusing to breathe, that is. Now, getting a vampire who doesn't want to breathe, to breathe, is normally not an easy feat, but Bella was still new to this rodeo, and she instinctively reacted to me pinching her nose by opening her mouth wide to gasp for the air she didn't need.
Her face, when I grabbed her nose, would have been hilarious if shit hadn't gotten serious quick.
Fortunately, Peter, Charlotte, and I have more experience than anyone should ever need in dealing with the beast that is the instinctual newborn. I'd like to say we were gentle. In an ideal world, we'd sit around a campfire and discuss the moral and ethical counterpoints of letting her have the blood versus resisting it, and sing Kum-Bay-Fucking-Yah. But in the real world, we'd all of us be underground by this point. So, face-planting Bella into and through the end wall, and locking her in a choke-hold to stop her snapping teeth from adding to my little collection was fucking necessary. I was angrier with myself that I hadn't realised what she'd been doing, and I may have taken some of my rage out on her by shouting at her...
"What the fuck did you think you were doing? What! Were you just plannin' on holding your breath forever? Huh? Not leavin' this place? I thought we were going to trust each other on this! I can't help you if you're going to lie from the start!"
My mind had been frantic. What if this didn't work? What if she wanted to leave? Fuck. What would I do if she left? Shit. I'd probably just follow her anyway. I couldn't bring her into this world and just leave her, even if she wanted to track down and annihilate troupes of scouts.
"I just didn't want to let you down!" she'd wailed, cowering under my looming figure. I hadn't realised how much I'd scared her, how I must have looked in my rage, dealing heavy words at her, and advancing with every syllable. "I was," sob, "scared," sob, "it's all so confusing still."
I'd realised my arrogance in the whole matter then. She was still trying to process everything that had happened, and she'd done so well up until then. So, I was sure my plan would be simple, forgetting the reassurance she'd need, forgetting how I'd promised myself I would make this as easy on her as possible.
I just wanted so much for her.
I wanted everything for her - everything she wanted, and everything she didn't know she wanted yet.
Buried in my arms, we'd agreed then that perfection was unrealistic, and we'd both just try. That idealistic goal of never slipping had placed too much burden on us both.
Shit happens. She knew that better than most, and I knew that more than others.
We'd just try.
Progress was slow – I'd still get pissed off from time-to-time, and she'd throw a temperamental bitch fit; I'd curse the volatility of newborns, and we'd lose a few more trees and the wildlife would get a scare. But we kept working - kept pushing forward - in spite of the steps backward. Bella was a natural at some things, but not at others – for some damn reason she couldn't keep her shoes on. I think it was the speed – the look of exhilaration on her face as she dashed across the Texas plains at night was breathtaking. I had to keep close and stare at her because I still couldn't feel shit. Peter was convinced she was some kind of shield... Well, no shit, fucker! It didn't take an idiot to work that one out. But even he couldn't say for sure - whatever she was, was fucking with him, too, because he didn't always get feelings involving her anymore.
We'd just have to wait and see what happened.
Which is what we were doing now.
Out hunting.
While Bella was back at the ranch alone.
Peter and Charlotte had practically had to tie me down and drag me out of there. I knew we needed to start giving her some more length on the rope if she was ever going to trust herself and keep moving forward, but it was screaming against everything in me to leave her there. Hell, she was scared, too, and that was the only thing that had made me keep it together – she wouldn't be okay if she could read the fear in my eyes.
So here we were, running away from the tug that was anchored deep inside my chest. If I didn't know my heart couldn't produce them, I'd swear I was having palpitations. Every time I'd rub at it, Peter would chuckle.
Must not hit him, must not hit him, must not hit him...
Fuck it.
I dead armed him and ran like a bitch, leaving him cackling behind me as Charlotte sighed and pounced on him.
I didn't need to hear that shit go down, so I nearly cried with joy at the scent of a civet cat winding through the undergrowth. They weren't big, but at least they were carnivores, so it didn't taste quite so much like dirt or bland nothingness. He went quickly, as did his mate who I found with him. I took her, too. I couldn't leave one without the other.
My feet were itching to take me back to the ranch, but I ploughed onwards, giving myself over to the animal that was barely caged beneath the surface. At least by losing myself in him, I could lessen the feeling that was gnawing at my insides.
I'd gotten better at controlling myself alongside Bella through her desensitization training – it was for the both of us, really, and I only wished I'd taken Carlisle up on it sooner - buried my pride and just done it. Maybe I would have been in better control that night, I would have seen earlier what was all too apparent now, and I could have saved Bella the pain those assholes had caused. But then, she wouldn't be here, and I was selfish enough for that to settle the matter for me. I don't think I could be without her now, hissy fits and all. She was growing up fast. In vampire terms, she was just a baby, but she had the potential to be magnificent when she got a handle on herself and mastered her control. I saw glimpses of it every day, especially during the fighting lessons we'd been working on. Shit, those were a lot of fun... for me. She got pissed off a lot. Okay, so I enjoyed pissing her off from time-to-time, but she needed it to blow off some steam. And the fact that she looked magnificent when she was enraged was not a hardship. Other things were hard...
Tell me about it... I'm surprised our dick hasn't revolted and run for freedom yet... Use it or lose it, chump!
I was subconsciously steering myself back towards the ranch, leading myself back. I liked being close to her. We talked, we argued, we did stupid shit and serious things. I didn't like being far away from her.
So go back home...
I shook my head to clear it, and I lost myself again in the sounds and scents of a group of pronghorn antelope a mile west from me. The pulsing sounds and metallic flavour, intensified by the midday sun, were enough to rattle the bars inside. I decided when he came out now, though.
As I slinked closer, moving like air over the ridge on the other side of which they roamed, the antelope started at the sound of the dry brush crackling under my sprinting feet, bolting at the roar of thunder that rolled out of my gaping jaw. I didn't chase after them, though, because I was already running in the other direction, toward a pull...a feeling...that was making my skin crawl, my whole body straining forward as everything blurred around me. Everything disappears but that feeling. And unless those antelope are running a suicide mission, there are echoing footsteps in my wake, and Peter and Charlotte are sprinting with me.
Because something is fucking wrong. And it's scaring the shit out of me.
BPOV
Jasper.
Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper...
That motherfucker was everywhere.
Behind a tree... Jasper.
Sitting atop a rock... Jasper.
Looking over my shoulder... Jasper.
Creeping outside the shower... Mother. Fucking. Jasper.
Oh. My. God.
Now that last one really fucked me right off. How was I supposed to get intimately acquainted with those fuckawesome jets if he's standing outside like a creeper?!?! I am not putting on a goddamn show for him! He can run to fucking Vegas if he wants that shit. I'm sure they've got something to cater to his needs there. Anything goes in Vegas. I should know, I hit that place up twice on my travels. I'm not allowed back in Pure, although I'd love to see the bouncers refuse this face now. I'd give Cindy Crawford a run for her money, and I didn't have that freaky-ass mole either! I don't give a shit if it's her signature feature, I can never just stop staring at it. It's just... like right fucking there! Shit, I'd give Rosabitch a run for the gold medal, too. And I wasn't blowing smoke up my own ass - I was one sexy-looking bitch. Go, Team Sparklepires! Screw Extreme Makeover, this was the shit! And I couldn't do that anymore, which was oddly a relief... you don't know how demeaning it had been on bad days to have someone take me to the toilet in the hospital – having someone bend you over, or give you the reach-around, and wipe your ass. Do you smile? Make eye contact? Thank them? It gives me shudders just thinking about it. Or worse still, have a house full of vampires listening in while you're trying to cop a squat. Stage fright. That's what it did to me back in Forks. I swear, back then, I was either going to die from spontaneous combustion from Fuckward refusing to touch me, or from blocked bowels from... well, quite literally holding shit in.
I'll tell you what I do miss, though.
Shoes.
I miss my fucking shoes! The whole pressure exertion thing was getting better, but I'd ruined countless pairs already by running too hard, pushing too much... And fuck, if I was going to push for that timeshare with Char's 'boots of wonder', I'd have to get a grip on that soon, or I was going to ruin those babies. If that happened, I'd have to start a fire and throw myself in. You do not damage Louboutins and live. Or unlive... Same fucking thing. It's really, really, really bad, times infinity to the max.
Huh! I can count to infinity...
Oh, shit!
No! No! No!
Ummm... kittens, rainbows, the smell of bobcats, the sound of birds' wings flapping, Char's shoe collection, the colour of sunrise yesterday for those three seconds when that shade of purple appeared, raindrops falling, Jasper's ass in those vintage Levi's...
Oh, yeah...
That last one... that last one did the trick.
I have to be careful where I let the new mind wander – just because I can do something, it doesn't mean I should. Shit, I get trapped so easily by random tangents that float through my head.
Focus.
Ugh!
I had rallied and raged against Jasper for this little piece of alone time. I put the old big brown - I mean, orange - eyes on Peter and Charlotte, who I'm pretty sure sided with me just to get me to stop staring at them. The transition stage from red, red, red, to that butterscotch amber I was aiming for was in an odd fucking stage right now. Orange. Like fucking Garfield's fur, as Peter's teasing ass kept pointing out. Or pumpkins, traffic cones, high viz jackets, jail house onesies... the list was endless. He did not like me being able to catch him unawares, and he took great pleasure in taunting me over silly shit. Prick. I mean, he's grown on me like... well... cancer. He's just wormed his way in under my skin and into my heart, and he won't leave. Char, on the other hand... I swear we're cut from the same piece of fucked up cloth. She just gets me, and it's the same with her. She knows when I need some encouragement, a gentle push, or a verbal bitch slap, and she is my greatest defender from Master Jasper.
Yeah. Master. Fucking. Jasper.
I know he's not from that time period, but I was goddamn pissed off at him and it just came out, but it described the rules with which he was governing me. By God, it was funny watching him stammer through that one. Peter found great pleasure in my ability to shock the ever-loving shit out of Jasper. I swear he just waits around all day, watching and waiting to see what will happen next in the Belsper Telenovella. His words, not mine. I had to sit through four days of debating over whether it would be Jasperella, Emorella, Belemo, Swanlock. The combinations got more and more ridiculous, and only stopped when Jasper finally cracked and pinned Peter to the floor in some matrix-worthy move.
That shit was cool! I wanted in on THAT!
I was transfixed. He'd been so still. I could see him seething, slowly boiling, but the transition was so rapid, so smooth, so graceful, and yet powerful - unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It was beautiful and just so raw. Watching him stare down Peter with eyes of liquid fire, I got another glimpse of that man I'd seen flashes off. The Leader. The Capable Man. Because in that moment, there was no doubt of that. All. Fucking. Man. Fucking Peter had caught the look in my eyes as they crawled all over Jasper, calculating, thinking... That just wouldn't do. Praise Jebus there's always a portion of my mind ready with the wit.
"Do you boys need some time alone for your sausage fest? Char, did you know about this? You told me you guys didn't do the big love, you lying wench! Or do they leave you out? 'Cause that's just gentlemanly of them."
Suitably emasculating, with a touch of bitch. Perfect.
Jasper scrambled up off the floor, whilst Peter just gave me his shit-eating look.
I hate that look.
It's only been 98 days, and I know that look means all kinds of fuckery. So, when Peter sidled up to Jasper and walked around him, looking him up and down, and looked me straight in the eye, declaring, "Oh, but sugar... who could resist this?" whilst gesturing to Jasper like a game show prize, I had another reason to want to deck that conniving motherfucker. Jasper merely rolled his eyes and told Peter that he wasn't his type, which caused Char to chuckle in the corner and me to smile fondly internally at a similar memory. Peter's eyes didn't leave mine, and I kept the blank face on. My fingers were twitching to rip him a new one, but I was determined not to give him the reaction he was looking for. Yeah, Jasper's hot. End of. He's hot, I'm hot, Peter's hot, and Char's a fucking babe. But I have enough trouble trying to exert the right kind of pressure to pull my jeans on and off without adding men into the mix. I'm running on a limited wardrobe of simple clothes right now – there is no way I'm risking my shit until I know I'm not going to shred it like an angry kitten.
Although, Jasper taking off my jeans would be pretty hot...
Yes, please...
Fuck!
...the edge of a blade of grass, that pixel three up from the bottom right side on the TV screen that produces that wrong shade of green, the feel of fur and skin parting between my teeth, the way my skin sparkles in the sun, the ladybird that has been crawling across the palm of my hand, the echo of each of its tiny steps as it traverses miles of tough pale skin...
But yeah, anyway, that move Jasper pulled? I wanted in on that! I knew some basic self-defence – you don't grow up a policeman's daughter, or live rough and ready on the road, without knowing some shit. Hell, that twat who tried to jack my car in that back lot in Cali, when I was trying to get some shut-eye sure got a surprise. I was small before the cancer, but that didn't mean shit.
Leverage and pressure.
That's all it takes to reduce a 250-pound man to tears like a little girl.
But whatever dojo Jasper-san was running was something else.
"Oh, my God! Teach me that, Jasper!"
I didn't even try to hide my enthusiasm with nonchalance. I wanted to learn that! No amount of concentration would have allowed me to hide it - I was practically bouncing in place with childish glee! Wax on, wax motherfucking off! I was prepared to go to the mattresses on this, but Jasper was quick to agree, telling me I needed to learn to take care of myself if the situation ever arose. His scars were a testament to that.
And damn, it was nice to have something to channel the rage into, and it definitely helped with my focus. Not that I wasn't trying before, it's just that I like a nice little incentive these days for my troubles. I haven't been that simpering child who craved approval and would ask 'how high?' and 'please, sir, can I have another?' for some time now. Although, that last one can be moved into the pending folder because Master Jasper is HOT when he gets angry. It's a good thing he can't get a read on my emotions because I was all over the place. I don't know if it's the upgraded mind or the animalistic elements of the vamping, but sometimes there's just this urge to tackle him to the ground and lick the shit out of him - which was the downside to our training...
Personal. Up close. Contact.
It was going to kill me.
My mind was trying to tell my body it was tired, but my body was telling my mind to shut the fuck up! Tiredness is all in the mind now - you've got stamina you don't even know about, baby! But still, we'd been going at this series of moves and something was just not sitting right with me. I was tired. And grouchy. And the earlier blood testing had not gone well. Charlotte was now down a sofa. Add that to the list of four end tables, a light fixture - don't ask about that one - and countless floor tiles.
Of course I was tired. But Master Jasper was not letting up. He just kept pushing and pushing, and I was not in the fucking mood! All that stuff I'd discarded about volatile newborns was not bullshit, and I'd been an arrogant prick in many ways thinking that with time and patience that I'd be okay.
Well, right now I was not okay.
Right now, I wanted to shut Jasper the fuck up and go sink my teeth into something! I was PMS'ing like nothing on earth, flipping one way and then the other... and Jesus-fucking-Christ, he's going to pick fault again like I don't know I'm not fucking up here!!!!!!!!!!!
"You're off balance, Bella. You need to keep your core stable, and stop flapping your arms around. Despite your name, you're not a damn bird. They ain't doing shit, woman!"
Shit, I was gonna lose it again...
Breathe Bella, just breathe...
No.
Gonna tackle him! Gonna tackle him hard!
Fucking useless, though. I ran at him as soon as the thought crossed into my head. He'd sighed, dropped his shoulder, and used my momentum to flip me over, securing each of my limbs with one of his, our arms and legs intertwined as I lay panting unnecessarily beneath him, his eyes teasing.
"Swan, you're so impatient," he drawled out, a hint of a smirk pulling at the side of his mouth, his eyes glittering through the loose curls that had swung down into his face.
Red. All I saw was Red.
Impatient?!?! I'm. Fucking. Trying!!!!
ASSHOLE!!!
I didn't want to sink this low, but it's time to pull out the big guns – I need a win. I'd spent hour after hour, and day after day, in the dirt - on my face, on my back, on my side, in the mud, in the rain, in the sun. I needed a victory...
My hips rolled up from the floor, denim meeting denim, the sounds of the rough fibres grating against each other like a bow drawing across its strings, and the friction created miniature fires that seemed to flare and break out between us. I gulped at the feeling, and drew my bottom lip between my teeth. The gold from his eyes disappeared in clouds of black and shadow, his body tensing and then relaxing on top of mine - not quite touching, but hovering above me. I was hyper-aware of everything, my focus fully on him as I shifted slightly beneath him, my eyes wide open, staring, drawing his focus just to me.
My fingers threaded themselves through his as I snaked one leg around him - slowly, unhurried, locking our ankles together. I flicked my eyes downwards, feeling the lashes brush against my skin, the softest and lightest of feather touches, before batting them open. Somewhere on the other side of the world a hurricane ignited. The remaining light went out from his eyes, and only darkness gazed back at me as a light breeze stirred up around us, mixing and swirling our two scents together as they pooled in our stillness. I lifted my head slowly off the ground, his drifting down towards mine to meet it, the huffs of breath coming from the two of us the only sounds that dared to disturb the air.
I moved my lips up to his ear, exhaling across the expanse of his neck, before moaning out his name.
"Jasssssperrrr..."
His eyes flickered.
My hands tensed against his as I threw my weight into my hips, anchoring my ankle against the ground and flipping him over as I crouched above him, victory reflected back at me in his startled eyes.
"Now who's off balance?" I crowed, before jumping up and running back to the house, laughing and giggling, trying not to focus on the heat I could feel between my legs, the feel of him pinned tightly between my thighs, or the velvet heat that simmered in his eyes.
Ugh! I could go for something salty right now... a wild hare maybe... It would let me run some of this frustration off...
The wins were getting more frequent. Not in the fighting - of course he had to be a man about that and proceed to school the shit out of me. Fucking men! But I was slowly adjusting, getting used to the multitude of sights, sounds, colours, tastes, smells, feelings... Every day was an adventure, and it never ended. You never really realise how much time you have until you don't need to sleep, but it was such a strange concept now – the sun rose, it fell, it rose again... over and over, and we were always doing something.
Everything was distracting.
Especially Jasper's desensitizing experiment.
There were moments where I cursed the existence of vampires. The urge to rip, and tear, and maim, and kill, and bathe in a river of blood showed me a darkness within myself I never knew could exist. I wanted those children. I still want them. The memory of their smell - the spirals of blood bursting through tiny capillaries just under the surface of their tight, fragile, breakable skin - would recall across my eyes every time Peter or Charlotte brought out a fresh sample. Every single time, I wanted to run for the door and chase those children down. I would be able to do it, too – I found that out when I tracked a single deer that had escaped from a herd I was hunting. The scent of fear and adrenaline waved and teased a trail behind it, intensifying the natural scent of the animal. I wouldn't even have to think about it, I would just have to lose myself to the voice that called out from the corner of my mind. One slip, and that voice - that was my own, but not my own - would lure me like a siren right to their door. Jasper caught me twice making a break for it. Each time, I shattered like glass in his arms when sanity returned to my mind. He just held me tight, unwavering, binding me in place with arms of unrelenting soft steel, stroking my hair and murmuring words of encouragement to me. Fuckward was right. We were monsters.
But then I looked at Jasper, at Peter, at Char - the last two admittedly indulged in the sweetest of ambrosias, but Jasper managed. He struggled, he fell, but he got back up, he kept making that choice, and that helped me through. A little. And it got easier. I think. Or I got better at burying that shit - God only knows I'm a master at avoidance when I want to be. So, we went longer and harder. I had broken down repeatedly. But, every time they were there for me. Every time, one of them would pick me up, brush me down, and we would start again. I'd beaten death back at every swing it had taken at me – I could do this. With them. Only with them.
Which is why I only lasted twenty minutes inside the house without them before I crept outside, pausing every few steps to take stock of everything around me before taking a few more. It was too quiet in there without them. My feet were guiding me along the path they'd taken before I got a hold of myself and forced them to stop. I needed to make an effort here, no matter how much I wanted to run after them. But fuck if I was staying inside that house. What if someone turned up? I didn't trust myself not to kill them, and I'd have no backup, no fall back. So, I took the safe option and decided to play just inside the woods. There was a small clearing beside a stream that hemmed the property, where the water pooled and branches hung low over the glassy mirrored surface.
I hopped up on one of the branches and lay back, curving my spine against the bark, closing my eyes, and feeling the texture beneath my toes. My fingers were twitching all on their own, no need to fake the human motions that had simply fallen away from me. I couldn't get comfortable, which was ridiculous considering I didn't really feel discomfort any more. I could stand on one leg all day and not feel anything. I'd tried it. I was curious, despite the three of them rolling their eyes at me.
It took imagining that nosy bastard next to me before the unease subsided just enough to not want to run the rest of the way to them. Enough that I could sit back and let nature wash over me in this place. It was beautiful. What would have been an unmanageable cacophony of sounds to my mind, could now be separated into the rhythmic lapping of water, the grating of stone and sand as the currents pulled at the bed of the river, and the rustle of stems as tiny creatures tip-toed over them. I lazily opened an eye and watched a conga line of ants on the other side of the clearing manoeuvre a leaf ten times their size in my direction.
That's what I liked about insects. They knew I was no threat to them - they were too small, too insignificant, unlike everything else that would scatter and flee in panic. Maybe they had no sense of self-preservation. I'd like to think it was the former. They made me feel like human me, and I always took care stepping over them or around them. Shit, I even tried to rescue a woodlouse from a wild turkey once, much to the amusement of Peter, who just laughed his ass off at my explanation. Cock sucker. It's a good job he's funny and Char likes him, or I'd have taken some of my rage out on him with my fists and my teeth. Even he looked out for me, though.
A smile stretched wide over my face, and I felt content. I liked it here. But I couldn't wait for them to get back. I think today would be a good day.
Whispers of footsteps, light and fast, whistled towards me, before slowing, pausing, breath drawn in, and grasses rustled. A figure stepped through the trees and slinked towards me.
Not Jasper.
Not Charlotte.
Not Peter.
I was up and standing before I was even aware of it, my skin crawling at the deliberate strides heading straight for me. My weight shifted to the balls of my feet, arms loose - but steady - floating just by my sides, not too high to raise awareness, but enough to stabilize my centre of gravity - Jasper's instruction ghosting in my ear.
The figure paused, eyes closed, inhaling the air deeply. I watched like a fly trapped by a spider as a smirk crawled across lips that unzipped bright, razor-sharp teeth from darkened lips. The eyes flashed open and every limb in my body drew taut like a bow, as every detail filtered into my mind.
Red eyes.
Wrong! Danger. Wrong! Danger. Wrong!
The words screamed at me, and I wanted to run. I wanted to run hard and fast away from the creature who slinked ever closer, hips swaying hypnotically... but I just can't. I can't, and my eyes can only track the hand that moves deliberately towards my face.
I can't move, and the silent scream behind my eyes is deafening.
AN 2.0. I know, I go away, for ages, I keep you waiting, and then hit you with a cliffy? I'm a heartless bitch. Come find me and I'll discuss it with you in depth lol!
Rec time – or the street corner of catonspeedland – I'm sticking some leg out, and raising my skirt for the following (if you haven't come across the following stories, you are in for a treat!!!!):
Second Chances by aerialla1 fanfiction(dot)net/s/4831589/1/Second_Chances It's Jasper/Bella, beautifully descriptive, has twists, turns, and a wonderful exploration of Jasper post birthday party. I ship this one hard.
Running by Merina Green fanfiction(dot)net/s/5613495/1/Running Jasper/Bella again, and shiiiiiit... what can I say? It's FABULOUS! Completely different from anything I've read, and Donna has a story that is keeping my eyes glued to the screen! I'm lucky enough to get sneak previews of this one (I'm up to chapter 26 – aren't I a lucky bitch? Yes. In this case, I am.) Lickage has never been so hot. Read it and you'll see what I mean.
And last, but by no means least... Once Bitten, Twice shy by lifelesslyndsey fanfiction(dot)net/s/5730725/1/Once_Bitten_Twice_shyPeter/Bella – cause you can NEVER have enough Peter, and lyndsey is just my brand of heroin. It's got catpire!!! CATPIRE people!!! And a bella with balls and a big bag of crazy. Their interaction is verbal poetry to me. But you already know I love lifelesslyndsey, so this should come as no surprise.
lima uniform charlie yankee, over and out! Xxxx
####UPDATE#### because you guys are fucking awesome, and I hit the 1,000 club (which shocked the ever loving shit out of me), I've released the picture teaser for the next chap waaaaaaaay early - you can find it on my blog, the links to which is on my profile page. Walk, don't run... ahhhh who am I kidding? STAMPEEEEEEEEEEEEED bwahahahahahaha! p.s you guys... *points at all of you and makes cheesy jerry maguire 'you complete me' signing move* yeah, i went there... deal with my cheese people tee hee!
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