A/N Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. Anya Simms is all mine.

Chapter 22 - The Dance

APOV

Thurs Jan 27th/05

It had been two days since the van versus Heathcliff incident, and things seemed to be unfolding as they should. Or at least as best as I could remember. It had been a while since I'd read the book, and honestly, I'd only gotten to the van chapter on the train ride before I found myself in this Dreamworld.

I felt a little bad that I'd told Jasper I'd read two and a half of the four-book series. It was true, just not the whole truth. The last time I'd read them was at least three months ago, all over a single weekend when I needed a mindless escape. I just kept Twilight on me because I liked to read the passages about Jasper. There may have been a few glasses of Rosé as well.

Hello, Team Jasper wasn't a lie. But I was really dealing with a Coles Notes memory rather than an eidetic one.

Still, it wasn't the plot holes or forgotten details that occupied my thoughts now. It was the feel of Jasper's lips on mine. WOW. Meyer did get that part right. Kissing a vampire is OMG hot. Like, electric-current-running-through-your-body hot. The kind of kiss that makes your knees weak and your heart race—or it would have, if I hadn't been so focused on the fact that I was kissing an actual vampire in an alternate reality.

I could totally see why Bella was into Edward. Well, into a vampire. I still thought Edward was too broody and overbearing—seriously, someone needed to tell him to lighten up—but the appeal was clear now. There was something about that intense, otherworldly connection, the feeling that this wasn't just a kiss but a seismic shift in the fabric of your life.

But Jasper... Jasper was different. He wasn't a broody teenage vampire with a tortured soul. He had depth, history, layers that were so much more intriguing than Edward's endless angst. And now that I was here, living in this Dreamworld where the line between fiction and reality was blurred beyond recognition, those layers were starting to reveal themselves in ways I hadn't expected.

In a word – he is a man. All man. Well, I supposed technically a male vampire. An adult. Ugh. No, he is all man.

Sitting at my desk, pretending to work on my dissertation but really just replaying the kiss in my mind, I couldn't help but smile. There was something undeniably thrilling about all of this. Not just the kiss, but the way Jasper looked at me, the way he was surprised by my action but didn't rebuff me – poor Bella. She was not going to get the same reaction as me.

And yet, I couldn't forget that I was in a world I didn't belong to. This wasn't some fantastical romance novel come to life—okay, maybe it was—but it was also a tangled mess of danger, secrecy, and complicated feelings. And I still had no clue what my role, if any was, in this whole mess.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a sigh. What was I supposed to do now? Keep playing along, letting the story unfold as it had in the books, or try to steer things in a different direction? I wasn't sure I had the power to change anything, but I wasn't sure I didn't either. And that uncertainty was driving me crazy.

"Why, darlin', what's got you so lost in thought?" The light Texan drawl broke me from my reverie, and there he was, standing at the backdoor, looking at me like he was the mind reader and knew exactly what I'd been thinking about.

His gaze was intense, but there was a softness in his eyes, a warmth that made my breath catch. God those honey golden eyes are something. I pushed myself out of my chair and sauntered over to him, closing the distance between us.

Oh, what the hell, lean into it, Anya!

"Close the curtains, darlin'," I whispered, leading him toward the record player in the living room.

Jasper moved at vampire speed, shutting the curtains with a swift motion that left a whoosh in the air. The world outside disappeared, leaving just the two of us under the warm glow of the room. I flipped through my vinyl collection, my fingers dancing over the covers. I knew exactly which one I wanted. Fingers crossed American Anya had it.

Hey, when you're about to have a moment with the vampire who should've always been the lead of the story, you make sure the soundtrack is perfect. Eureka! She did!

I pulled out the record and placed it on the turntable. The needle dropped, and the opening chords of "Je l'aime à mourir" filled the air, the guitar riffs gently filling the air. I turned back to Jasper with a grin. "You up for a dance, Major?"

He took my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. "With you? Always."

The music wrapping around us, I could barely contain the little happy dance happening inside me. Here I was, swaying in my living room with Jasper, the vampire who'd been my favourite since day one. I couldn't help but smile at the irony—dancing to a song about loving someone to death, with someone who was technically already dead.

I looked up at Jasper, his touch light, cool, his eyes holding a quiet intensity. For once, I wasn't overthinking. I wasn't planning my next move. I was just here, with him, swaying to the rhythm, living in a moment that felt more real than anything in a long time.

The song ended, and I led us over to the couch, flopping down and pulling Jasper with me. I snuggled up to him without a second thought, feeling the cool, comforting weight of his arm around me.

Definitely did not feel like I was curled up to a statute. Nope, he was all man.

"Team Jasper, huh?" he murmured, a hint of a smile in his voice.

I grinned, my eyes closing as I settled against him. "Like I said, a hill I'm willing to die on."

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through my hair. I might have been joking, but there was something undeniably real about this moment, about us.

"That was wonderful," I giggled, my voice light with the lingering joy of the moment. I couldn't help but think about how often I'd fantasized about this exact scenario when reading Twilight—being close to Jasper, feeling that connection, that spark that had always been so palpable on the page. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I let out a contented sigh. "You know," I murmured, my head resting against his chest, "I used to imagine what it would be like, being with you. Reading the books, I always wondered what it would feel like..."

He tilted his head slightly, looking down at me with those intense, honey-gold eyes. "And does the reality live up to the fantasy?"

I couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with his cool touch. "It's better," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "So much better."

He didn't say anything, but the way he held me, the way his fingers traced gentle patterns on my arm, said more than words ever could. This wasn't just some fleeting fantasy come to life. This was something real, something that mattered—at least, it mattered to me.

I closed my eyes, letting myself relax into the moment, into the feeling of being here with him, with no expectations, no playbook, just the two of us.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remembered was waking up to the sight of Jasper pacing in front of me. I stifled a yawn and stretched, reaching for my glasses on the coffee table, before teasing, "Careful you don't wear the hardwood out, Tex. Not sure if it's vegetarian-rated."

I still couldn't bring myself to call him what he actually was. The Volturi, the Wolves, all those damn rules about humans not knowing—it was too much. So "vegetarian" it was.

Jasper stopped pacing and held out his phone, his expression tight. On the screen was a text from Alice—HE'S OUTSIDE HER FUCKING HOUSE!

I blinked, then started to laugh—a full-body, can't-stop-yourself kind of laugh that echoed through the room. Still chuckling, I made my way back to the record player, flipping through my vinyl collection until I found the one, I wanted. With a flourish, I put on the record and let the opening notes of Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights" fill the room.

"And now," I announced dramatically, "the song comes to life!"

Jasper's face was a mix of concern and slight confusion, though I knew it wasn't the song that threw him off—he knew it well enough, considering how often I sang it around the house. No, his perplexity was about why I was being so cavalier about the situation.

Seeing his unease, I decided to throw him a bone as I walked back to him. "He's fine. She's fine. It's creepy as hell, but it's fine. Remember what I said—tween girls love this. Adult women? Let's just say my book club had a lot to say about calling the police. Ironic, given it's the Chief of Police's house."

Jasper didn't seem entirely convinced, his jaw still tensed, as he absorbed my words. I knew it was a lot to take in—the idea that this bizarre behaviour was not only expected but celebrated by a large swath of the target audience.

"Look," I continued, trying to soften the blow getting him to sit on the couch beside me, "I know it doesn't make sense. It's romanticized to the point of lunacy. But that's the fantasy. Edward keeping watch over her house at night, being all broody and tortured about it... it's what they eat up."

His expression shifted, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant acceptance. "So, this is... normal? In the context of the story?"

"As normal as it gets," I confirmed, placing a hand on his arm. "In this world, anyway. Just remember—it's a story. A very intense, very dramatic story that wasn't written for rational adult minds."

He let out a slow breath, his tension easing just slightly. "I still don't like it."

"Neither do I," I admitted, attempting to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, kinda hard when he was hard. Very hard. "But it's part of the playbook. And right now, we just have to let it play out."

Jasper nodded, though I could see the unease lingering in his eyes. He wasn't one to just let things go. I didn't blame him; Edward was playing with fire being so close to his singer. And no doubt Jasper felt conflicted about being here and not there with Edward ensuring he didn't cross the line.

"Hey," I said softly, drawing his attention back to me. "I know it's hard. But you've got me, okay? I made my way through the book, multiple times. And he does stay outside, okay? Think of it as exposure therapy."

He snorted at that before his gaze softening. "If you say so." he murmured.

Feeling cheeky and hoping to cheer him up, I snuggled closer and whispered, "Wanna see what the fuss is all about? You know, compare notes with Heathcliff in the morning. I'd say you'd have a leg up, given you can actually read my feelings and, oh, I dunno, aren't a fucking creep?"

He let out a genuine laugh, the sound warm and rich. He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly amused by the suggestion. "You really know how to take the romance out of things, don't you?" he teased, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

I grinned, pleased to have lightened the mood. "Just trying to keep things in perspective, Tex. Isn't it nice to have a night off from the brooding toddler? Besides, blondes do have more fun, am I right?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "You've got a point there. I could use a break from all the brooding."

I leaned up and kissed his cheek, feeling the coolness of his skin against my lips. "That's the spirit. But seriously, no midnight visits, okay? I like my sleep, and I promise I won't be as understanding as Bella if I wake up to find you standing in my backyard watching my house."

Jasper chuckled, shaking his head. "Noted. No creepy midnight visits. I'll leave that to Edward."

"Good," I said with a satisfied nod, snuggling back into his side. "Because I'd rather spend the night doing this."

Jasper's arm tightened around me, pulling me closer as he let out a contented sigh. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "So would I."

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and made out like a couple of teenagers.

It was WOW – I couldn't get enough of it.