A/N: A sneak peak from Alice. Not an original chapter, but I thought it fit - even thouogh the entire story pretty much doesn't fit...

Chapter 23 (Outtake)

Piece of Pie

Alice's POV

I upped the stakes for our pre-match make-out session; I couldn't jinx jazzy after all. It was the final game against Rochester—the same team that beat us last year. Last year when Jazz was so shy and fumbling around me that I was lucky if he opened his mouth when he kissed me.

A lot had changed, I thought with a small smile as I watched Jazz, his face still dazed, his eyes glazed over, as he pulled up his uniform pants clumsily; a goofy grin on his face.

"Fuck I love you, baby!" he said to me a moment later, his eyes midnight blue as they met mine. His grin grew before he plunged his face into my neck and sighed.

His body was still quivering, I noticed.

"Well I wanted to make it count, Jazzy," I murmured into his ear as he cringed slightly and chuckled.

His steamy breath tickled my skin before he pressed his lips tenderly into it. "My Alley-cat, you're not a dud root either," he mumbled into my neck again before pulling away and locking his lips with mine, just as I was breaking into laughter, cutting me off instantly.

No chance Jazz would get carried away; my lips wouldn't hold much appeal to him for a while. Not to mention the fact that he was completely mellow from being post climactic.

It was how our traditional pre-match make outs had started. Jazz used to be so tense before his games, and I'd rather graciously offered my services in relaxing him. Though, we needed to leave earlier and earlier these days to fit it in.

It usually occurred in the back seat of either Jazzy's car, or mine, in a nice secluded place in the woods, a few miles from the field. I say usually because at times we were required to take Edward with us and were then forced to venture out to find a suitable place on our own.

It was not our finest hour over all, but fast becoming our most adventurous. Besides, the end result was always what we aimed for; Jazz hadn't screwed up in a game once since our little tradition had begun.

After, Jazz drove us to the game, one arm draped around my shoulders, the other on the steering wheel, with that wide, just-got-laid grin invading his expression. It was a lot sexier, though, when we were in his mustang...

"We'll celebrate properly tonight, Alley," Jazz whispered huskily into my ear before kissing my neck tenderly, preferring it to my lips for a while.

We were behind the dugout in the bleachers, rounding everything off and leaving it on a high note.

"We most definitely will," I replied, reaching up to tickle his earlobe. He stiffened and laughed, kissing my forehead quickly before he jumped over the gate in one agile movement onto the field and disappeared into the dugout.

Sighing contentedly, I made my way higher up onto the bleachers, finding a seat that would give me the best view.

A few minutes later I noticed Edward and Bella approaching, my smile growing into a smirk. They were strolling leisurely as they chatted, their bodies angled towards each other. Bella's smile was warm and a little apprehensive, while Edward's looked ... slightly unhinged. His hands were shoved in his pockets stiffly, his hair—judging by the state of it—looked like it had seen his fingers raked through it on numerous occasions. I wondered when and how he managed to express his frustration with Bella so close.

I scoffed softly to myself and realized, as I focused more intently on him, that he was obviously in the midst of one of those heated moments he had around Bella—something I really hadn't seen firsthand before—nor did I want to, for that matter. I felt myself cringe; you could practically see the vein in his forehead throbbing. His face was flushed and he looked like he'd just wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, judging by the light sheen to it.

He was carrying his shoulder bag with him—which was kind of weird.

I suddenly broke into laughter—trying to keep it to myself as scores of people began filling the seats around me—as the realization over Edward's motive behind the bag dawned on me. Exactly two seconds later, my skin began crawling while a cold shiver ran up and down my spine as my thoughts probed beyond the humor.

Ugh, Edward!

I turned away hastily, pushing away that disturbing little insight into my brother, tucking it to the back of my mind along with the rest of the memories there. Memories forged from being born into a family with two older brothers—though Edward was only four minutes older—which would undoubtedly see me in therapy at some stage. Emmett's nudist phase when I was thirteen still had remnants of my sanity in the red.

I shuddered again, only slightly grateful that Edward's circumstances were no longer at the forefront of my mind—not that I preferred Emmett's or anything—before my attention was immediately diverted to the field. Jazz and the team were making their way to their respective positions.

I felt the grin penetrate my face deeply, as a wistful sigh involuntarily escaped my lips.

Could that guy get any sexier?

What his baseball uniform alone did to my erogenous zones—not to mention how it accentuated his taut buns...

I propped my elbows on my knees and rested my chin in my closed palms as my thoughts wandered to our privately scheduled post-match celebrations tonight. Whether I was celebrating or consoling with him, I was determined to make him—

"Hey, Als," came Bella's warm greeting as she dropped down in the seat beside me. Edward sat awkwardly beside her and took the opportunity to run his rigid fingers through his hair while her attention was on me.

The poor guy really was tortured by her.

"Hey, Bells," I replied, throwing Edward a wicked smirk and almost chuckling as he scowled back, before placing his bag on his lap.

I shuddered a second time.

Bella's eyebrows fused together as she gazed at me before she slowly turned to glance at Edward.

Well, at least he still had an effective amount of charm working, because when she turned back to me, a slight blush was working its way to her cheeks.

"So we're just in time, huh?" she piped up, her eyes taking on a glazed appearance momentarily as a small smile lit up on Edward's face.

I wasn't sure whether the two of them were cute or a total cringe-fest yet, but what I did know was that there was no way I could sit with my brother while he was in that condition.

"Edward?" I spoke up; he turned his star crossed gaze from Bella to me, his brow shooting up in question. "Jazz said something about the coach wanting you to watch from the dug-out," I explained to him as though it was a very important piece of information that I'd only just recalled. It wasn't a lie, just a slight variation of the truth.

From what Jazz had said, it was an invitation from the coach, so Edward was still a part of the final game, in a sense.

He looked torn. He glanced from the field then to Bella, both alternatives causing his eyes to burn with longing, though his gaze lingered on Bella and immediately I felt a pang of guilt. But seriously the guy needed to focus on a bit of baseball and get himself under some kind of control—something he obviously had none of. I hated to think what he'd be like when Bella slept over. Emmett would give the poor guy hell.

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck before he sort of shrugged to himself. "Okay, thanks, Al. I'm going to get a drink or something first. Do you guys want anything?" He looked directly at Bella when he asked this, and judging by his smile I doubted the offer extended to me.

Bella smiled back shyly. It was strange to see that side of her again.

"Um ..." she paused, tilting her head in contemplation, "I'll have a pie with sauce," she answered before she dove into her bag—to retrieve some money I assumed—while Edward looked at me his expression completely bewildered, raising his brow questioningly at me.

I shook my head in reply. I had no answers for that one.

Bella looked up again, a ten dollar bill in her hand, glancing at Edward and me slowly; her expression turning puzzled.

"What kind of pie do you want, Bella?" Edward asked her delicately, not being able to hold back the amused smile that was so tender it was practically a serenade.

"A meat pie...?" Bella repeated, suddenly looking uncertain, her face steadily flushing deeper.

I chuckled and nudged her playfully while Edward's expression turned more affectionate as his grin broadened. She dropped her gaze and smiled to herself self-consciously, and I knew she wasn't being as near as gracious to herself as she appeared. She hated her bogan Australian language—I never had the heart to correct her when she said that. I wondered if she would still feel the same way if she was aware of how much Edward liked it. How every time she spoke the word 'bloody' he'd start smiling to himself as though she was a puppy who was doing something irresistibly adorable.

Just like he was doing now...

"I don't think they sell pies and sauce unfortunately, Bells," I teased her warmly. She grinned to herself, it was still self-conscious, but turning wry. When she raised her head again her cheeks looked like she'd gone OCD on Esme's rouge.

"Get her hot chips and sauce instead, bludge," I quipped artfully, gazing up at Edward and almost laughing as his expression went from adoration to irritation in the length of a breath, no doubt thinking what an evil little rat I was.

I knew Bella's hot chips and sauce story was meant to be a vent when she told me, but I honestly couldn't stop myself from laughing the entire afternoon over it. She had been a good sport about it, just as she was now, nudging me back with a mocking amount of aggravation.

"Get me anything, Edward," Bella said to him a moment later, holding out her ten dollar bill.

He surveyed it for approximately half a second. "My shout," he replied, grinning at her in that OMG-what-an-adorable-puppy way again before stepping over me, placing his hand roughly on top of my head as he passed and headed down the bleachers.

I shook him off with exasperation. "Hey! What about me?" I called out after him when he kept going.

He turned back smirking knowingly. "I'm sure you and Jazz ate together when you first got here."

I blinked in surprise. How the hell did he know that?

My eyes wandered to seek out Jazz on the field, narrowing, before I turned them back to meet Edward's again, whose smirk had widened cunningly.

Jazzy! I thought with a piqued huff!

"Just what I thought," Edward added, making me rue I wasn't holding something heavy that I could propel at him.

"Males," I grumbled, turning to Bella who was grinning at me secretively. I felt the grin tug at my irritation, knowing one look in Jazzy's direction and it would completely dissolve. I was hopeless.

"So what did you and Jazz eat before Edward and I got here?" Bella teased me dropping her voice in a mock whisper.

"What did you and Edward talk about in the car?" I imitated her tone.

"Oh ... the usual." Bella shrugged with deliberately feigned indifference. "How I'm going to kill him ... how he's going to get me to the prom..." she continued, a furtive smile playing at her lips.

"No way! Don't tell me he actually pulled out the courage to ask you!" I exclaimed, suddenly bursting with pride for my goofball of a brother.

"Alice, come on, I told wanker-bloody-Newton that I was going with Edward. I would never have been able to live it down if I showed up without him." Bella's grin was all out sly and playful.

I snorted. "And that's the only reason you're going with him?"

Her smile turned wistful this time, while her cheeks burned brazenly again for a moment. "Well ... no, we're going as friends."

"Uh-huh," I replied slyly, deliberately sounding out both syllables while Bella's face tinged deeper.

"Edward's nice—I mean—he's trying and ... he's—he's nice," she stammered, obviously feeling the need to explain, while squirming in her seat a little awkwardly and dropping her gaze from mine.

"Uh-huh," I repeated, smirking, exaggerating the syllables with a drawl this time, before turning my gaze to stud muffin, sexy buns at first base.

He looked up and caught my gaze, his grin broadening, making my heart do a little flip flop. I blew him a kiss, and like the adorable dork that he was, he went through the motions of catching it and putting it in his pocket.

"Oh, seriously?!" Bella scoffed teasingly from beside me. "You know, Als, you and Jazz are pushing down the door of being grosser than Nessie and Jake."

I turned to her with a mock scowl, and she chuckled.

"So how are you and my 'nice' brother getting to the prom?" I asked her, raising my brow astutely, almost chuckling as her eyes warmed immediately.

"On his tricycle," Bella replied straight faced as a small secretive smile formed.

"What?" I asked her blankly, as she laughed.

"Never mind—" she broke off suddenly with a gasp just as the deafening crack of a baseball connecting with a timber bat all but broke through the sound barrier.

I followed her gaze. The ball was flying high through the sky, threatening to land beyond the boundary fence as the outfielders took off in pursuit of it.

I held my breath, wanting to close my eyes and cover my ears as the buzzing in the atmosphere immediately heightened. It was the same type of catch that Edward had missed during the final game the year before; a contributing factor to their loss. Ironically, as tall as Edward was, he was probably a centimeter too short to catch it.

The left fieldsman leaped up, stretching his arm toward the ball and caught it with millimeters to spare.

The crowd broke into cheers.

I let out my breath, sighing with relief while a few surrounding Bella and me muttered and cursed in disappointment.

I turned back to Bella a moment later. "So, you and Edward are going to the prom together, just as friends?"

She half shrugged. "Yeah, I can handle being just Edward's friend."

I gazed at her with growing skepticism and I was sure something flickered behind her eyes contradicting that last admission. I grinned broadly, raising my brow deliberately. "I think you're in serious danger, girl."

"Alice..." she mumbled, her cheeks staining as another surge of heat gathered in them.

Crack!

I turned my attention back to the game.

"DUD ROOT, it's started already!" came Emmett's booming voice without warning, bringing out an immediate, but good-natured sounding groan from Bella.

Jazz was chuckling and shaking his head to himself, while catching the first base runner out with casual ease.

A surge of heated desire washed over me.

"Alice, why do I feel the need to tell you and Jazz to get a room?" Rose said dryly, sitting on the other side of me.

I tore my gaze from Jazz, rolling my eyes and answering with completely feigned haughty innocence, "Because your mind is in the gutter, Miss Hale."

She snorted unconvinced and took her nail file from her purse.

Only Rose would manicure her nails during her brother's final game.

My eyes caught Bella's and guessing from the hinted amusement in her expression, she was thinking the same thing.

"Where's Bludge?" Emmett inquired casually with the smallest smirk as though it was actually Edward's name, as he sat himself beside Rose.

I was actually glad Edward was going to the dugout now, and with the presence of Emmett my guilt over it went on a steady decline.

"He's going to watch from the dugout," I answered him.

"Well that will be cooler for him—now that Summer's coming and all," he quipped, his eyes darting in Bella's direction, his lips twitching as he struggled to keep a straight face.

"Em, stop being a wise ass," Rose sighed with exasperation, holding out her hands to examine her work.

As if on cue, Edward appeared carrying a small plastic bag. He sat beside Bella, pulling out a coke for her and a tray of fries.

"You're back, Duds. What happened, did you get cold?" Emmett grinned with sly wickedness, causing Rose to jab him with her nail file.

Edward sighed, rubbed his brow with aggravated impatience and threw Emmett a truly menacing glare.

"Dud root!" Emmett exclaimed, with fabricated alarm.

Edward hung with Bella for a few minutes eating his hot dog while Bella munched on her fries, sharing them with him, and offering them to me and Rose.

I knew Edward was very conscious of the fact that we were all aware of how awkward and unsure of himself he was around Bella, so I tried to act casual and not make a point of watching how cute they were. I kept my eyes on the lush form that was Jazzy at first base, but my attention was firmly fixed on the two people adjacent to me. They were chatting and laughing softly together and a quick discreet glance in their direction told me that Edward was sitting so close to Bella that their arms were frequently coming into contact. I found myself smiling, almost wistfully at first—as it evoked memories of Jazz and I when he first began to get touchy-feely with me—until it became a full assuming smirk.

Gone was all Edward's confidence and self-assurance. My cocky brother who's misplaced logic had always been encased with his emotions, who'd often assured me he'd never make a fool of himself for any girl, had finally been cracked, and was at this moment well beyond the point of no return.

Until Bella came along, Edward's interest in girls, other than for sexual gratification, had been practically non-existent, and together with his daily mocking assurances that it wasn't likely to change, had Emmett—unable to crack him—deciding he was gay.

From then on over the next several months we were forced to listen to The Village People constantly! Emmett used to set the stereo timer so that as soon as Edward and I came through the door each day after school, we'd be greeted with 'Macho Man' on full volume. He'd wiped Edward's Ipod and filled it with Barbara Streisand and Abba; it was Jazzy that discovered it—much to Edward's continued torment.

That Christmas, Emmett had bought Edward a t-shirt that had 'Pink sheep of the family' written on it, and Edward's nickname from then on had been "Gaylene". Edward had gotten so pissed off about it after a while that one day he threw a baseball at the back of Emmett's head so hard, it actually made a cracking sound that made my blood run cold just as I was about to erupt into laughter. Emmett had roared, clutching the back of his head and howling for a good ten minutes, before he responded by punching Edward in the face—only half in jest—but giving him a black eye. His torture method over Edward had then been making loud comments at school—usually in between classes when the halls were jam packed with bodies—that Edward should learn to open his mouth or open his eyes in future. It wasn't until Mom found out what Emmett was saying that it stopped, not that it did any permanent damage to Edward. Not too many people took Emmett seriously; outside of the wrestling ring that is, and Edward had screwed enough girls that his reputation was pretty solid.

I must have been grinning at Edward in a ditzy way because as my memories faded slowly from my thoughts, my brother's face came into focus, a bemused, dubious expression slightly creasing his brow. His thoughts were practically screaming at me: Alice ... what the fuck?

This seemed to be who Edward had become of late; the one who'd emerged from the fallout that was the turmoil of our lives over the last several years, almost whole again and not nearly close to being healed, but with Bella beside him I knew that would right itself in no time.

I turned back to Jazz and smirked to myself discreetly. Let them think I was lusting after the provocative form that was my boyfriend and go back to sharing their plate of fries.

Fries, chips—it was all good.

A/N: Yeah, it's all good-thanks for reading