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

Chapter 24: Underpaid & Overworked

APOV

Wed March 2, 2005

I carried on with life, as I always did. The van incident seemed to have blown over, and I often caught glimpses of Edward purposefully avoiding any direct contact with Bella. It was full on Heathcliff mode.

Okay, I'll admit it—I might have made an excuse to wander toward their Biology II class once or twice over the next month. Ostensibly, it was to ask Mr. Banner if he'd had a chance to look over the catalogue of textbooks for the next academic year. Because, apparently, being the librarian meant I was also responsible for ordering every classroom resource. Honestly, it felt like I was running a bookstore on top of everything else. Definitely not in the job description, and definitely not reflected in my paycheck.

When I walked into the classroom, I caught Edward's curious gaze, clearly wondering what I was up to. I rolled my eyes at him, humming a few bars of Wuthering Heights just loud enough for him to catch before turning my attention to Mr. Banner. Bella, however, seemed completely oblivious, too wrapped up in the dazzling presence of the vampire sitting beside her who kept ignoring her and only answered monosyllabically.

Leaving the classroom and heading back to my domain—heels clacking on the concrete paths between the buildings – I couldn't help but laugh to myself. I'd been around the Cullens far longer than Bella, and I wasn't exactly dazzled by any of them. Was it because, in some strange way, I still saw them as characters in a book, while for Bella, this was her reality? Was that the difference?

Or maybe it was an age thing. Bella was a teenager, hormones driving her every thought, while I was in my late twenties. Well American Anya was mid-twenties. Either way, I have a fully developed frontal cortex, thank you very much. My perspective was different—wiser, perhaps, or just less prone to the swooning tendencies that seemed to plague her. Continuing to muse over this, I felt that familiar tingling at the back of my neck—the telltale sign of a vampire nearby. Jasper. Sure enough, there he was, casually lounging by the library doors, waiting for me, it seemed.

A quick glance around, and then I darted into the library, pulling him into my small office before anyone could notice. As soon as the door closed behind us, I wrapped my arms around him, the familiar coolness of his body instantly calming the lingering thoughts from my mind.

"Hey, you," I murmured, pressing my cheek against his chest, feeling the steady stillness of his body beneath my touch.

He chuckled softly at my warm greeting, then started humming Wuthering Heights back at me. Okay… not exactly our song. I'd made my thoughts pretty damn clear about how creepy I found Edward's behaviour toward Bella, so this little musical reference wasn't exactly hitting the right note.

I pulled back slightly and arched an eyebrow at him. "Kay, Tex, I'm gonna need a little more context here. This – us – not in the playbook."

Jasper's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Heathcliff texted me, wanting to know why you were in his classroom."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back against my desk. "Seriously? I was just checking on textbook orders, like any diligent librarian would," I replied, my tone dripping with mock innocence. "But if it put a bee in his bonnet, all the better."

Jasper laughed again, that rich, warm sound that made my heart flutter a little faster. "You do have a way of needling him," he said, his voice full of admiration.

"Well, just tell tall, dark, and broody that despite his silent treatment, The Duck is lapping it all up." I replied. "I could have declared my undying love for him, and she wouldn't have noticed. She only has eyes for him."

The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and not in a good way. I couldn't help but grimace, the ick factor hitting me hard. I'd never been a fan of how Meyer had written this part of the book—this grand love affair that was anything but healthy. It was all-consuming, obsessive, and downright creepy at times. It grated against every instinct I had about what love should be.

Jasper noticed my reaction, his expression softening. "You really don't like it, do you?"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I snapped. "Remind me not to play poker with you."

I got up from the desk and settled into my chair, my mind racing as I tried to gather my thoughts. How much could I share without giving away the plot? It was tricky, especially since my memory of the books was hazy at best—except for this part. This intensity, this unhealthy obsession, I remembered all too well. And I definitely remembered how heated the debate had gotten at book club.

By now, Jasper had pulled up the other chair and settled down across from me, waiting patiently. He had this way of sitting, perfectly still, that unnerved most people, but I found it oddly comforting. It gave me time to think, to decide what I wanted to say.

I looked at him, trying to find the right words. "It's just… this kind of all-consuming love, it never sat right with me. I remember the arguments we had about it—how some of us thought it was romantic, but others, like me, felt it was more toxic than anything. This intensity, the way they lose themselves, their thoughts consumed about the other... it's not healthy."

Jasper nodded thoughtfully. He was letting me take my time, not pushing, just being there.

I could tell he was trying to understand, but I wasn't sure how to get my point across without messing with the plot. I'd accepted that this was their reality, and I needed to let it play out. I wasn't some Greek god, here to toy with mortal lives for my own amusement.

Okay, maybe I was willing to bend the rules a bit when it came to Jasper—but hey, Team Jasper to the end. I wasn't about to lose sight of that. Still, I needed to balance my loyalty with the fact that Edward and Bella needed their love story, too, however flawed it might be.

Jasper continued to watch me, patient as ever, his golden eyes waiting for whatever I was about to say next.

"Right, Tex," I began, leaning forward slightly. "How familiar are you with the whole Harry Potter phenomenon?"

"The school of wizards and magic?" he asked, his confusion battling with a hint of amusement.

I could see another question forming on the tip of his tongue, so I decided to throw him a bone before he got too far down that rabbit hole.

"No, Tex, no magicians are planning to take over Forks," I said, giving him a reassuring grin. "I mean, are you familiar with how that whole phenomenon took the literary world by storm? How it was marketed towards youth, became this massive cultural touchstone?"

He nodded slowly, the amusement still lingering in his eyes but giving way to curiosity. "I've heard of it. Alice mentioned it a few times, something about midnight release parties?"

"Exactly," I said, leaning back in my chair. "It was a big deal. Kids, teens, even adults—everyone was swept up in it."

Jasper tilted his head slightly, listening intently. "And how does that connect to… this?"

"Well," I began, "your creator—another first-time author, I'd like to point out—was met with a similar reaction. Especially when the damn movie was released. When I left on my train ride home, before I somehow ended up here in Forks instead of Montreal, I'm not joking when I say that this book—your faces—were everywhere. Heathcliff and The Duck—were plastered all over billboards, magazines, you name it. You, alas, relegated to the background as a minor character." I paused, catching myself before my frustration over how Meyer did Jasper dirty got the better of me.

"But I digress, Tex," I continued, shaking off the tangent. "My point is this"—I raised my hands in the air, emphasizing the gravity of what I was about to say—"the love between Edward and Bella was put on a pedestal by young girls everywhere."

I could see Jasper absorbing this, taking in what I was saying.

"It's why we read the damn book in the first place," I added. "Jen—my friend from book club—wanted to know why her teenage daughters were drooling over the broody... vegetarian," I finished, catching myself just in time before letting the "v-word" slip.

Jasper's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed this, then he slowly asked, "And this adoration... you dislike it?"

"Yeah," I replied, leaning forward. "Think about it this way—if Edward were... not a vegetarian but more like Mike Newton, and he was doing all of this—giving a girl the cold shoulder at school, barely noticing their existence. Then at night, to be standing outside their house, listening to her breaths as she slept. Never telling her he was doing it—"

I left the sentence hanging, watching for his reaction, hoping he'd catch on to how disturbingly criminal the behaviour was, how illegal it actually is.

Jasper's expression darkened as realization dawned. "It would be stalking," he said quietly. "Obsessive, invasive... wrong."

I nodded, relieved that he was catching on. "Exactly. But because it's Edward—the brooding Gothic Heathcliff—it gets romanticized. Girls read about it and think that's what love is supposed to look like—intense, overwhelming, and all-consuming. But if you strip away the vegetarian veneer, it's just... unhealthy. Dangerous, even."

Jasper's gaze remained steady on me, his expression thoughtful. "Your intense dislike is that people, especially young girls, are being fed an idea of love that's toxic."

"Exactement," I replied. "It's like putting a pretty bow on something dark and calling it a gift. They're drawn to the intensity, the idea of being so deeply desired, but they're missing the fact that this kind of obsession isn't love—it's control. It's possessiveness. And that's what makes me uncomfortable with how their eventual relationship is idolized."

Jasper leaned back in his chair, clearly weighing my words. "So, what do we do with that?" he asked after a moment, his voice low. "How do we reconcile their story with what we know is right?"

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know if we can, Tex. Their story is their story—it's going to play out the way it's written..."

I trailed off, my thoughts tangling again. The last thing I wanted, like I said, was to play the role of a Greek god, meddling with the lives of mortals for my own amusement. As much as I found their love story flawed—badly written, even—it was still Bella and Edward's love story. I had no right to interfere, no matter how much I wanted to nudge things in a healthier direction.

I sighed again, looking at Jasper. "It's not our place to change their story," I said, my voice softer now. "No matter how much I might disagree with it, it's theirs to live out. We're just here... I don't know, to observe? Mock maybe? Drink wine? Find our own …."

Letting those words linger, Jasper leaned closer, his cool hand slipping into mine. He began tracing his fingers over mine, his touch gentle, almost as if he were fascinated by the simple connection between us. His focus on our hands was intense, as if he were contemplating something deeper, something beyond the words we had just exchanged.

I really did enjoy the feel of his hands on mine, and once more, I found myself shaking my head at how Meyer did Jasper dirty. This—the connection between us—was so much healthier than anything she had written. Even if he was the newest vegetarian, and I was probably playing with fire as his fingers tapped along my pulse.

I couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "Don't get any ideas, Tex. I'm not a snack."

Jasper chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, unlike broody Heathcliff, I don't have that struggle."

"Right... the singer thing," I said, curiosity sparking. I'd read about it in the books, but I'd never really understood how it worked. "So, how does that feel, exactly? I mean, when you find your singer?"

Jasper's expression softened, and he seemed to consider my question carefully. "It's... intense," he began, choosing his words with care. "Like every part of you is drawn to that person—her scent, her presence, it's almost overwhelming. But it's also more than just thirst. It's a pull, something that goes beyond the physical, though that's a big part of it."

His fingers stilled on mine, and he looked at me, his gaze steady. "But it's not always a good thing. It can cloud your judgement; make you act on instinct instead of reason. That's where the real danger lies—letting it consume you."

I thought about that for a moment and then snorted, which earned me a confused look from Jasper, given the seriousness of the topic.

I sighed, realizing I was treading dangerously close to revealing too much of the playbook. My gaze drifted to the clock on the wall; the school day was almost over. It was a convenient distraction, but it didn't last long.

The buzz of Jasper's phone broke the moment. He pulled it out, his expression unreadable as he read the message. "Apparently, Edward won't be heading home with us tonight," he said, his tone cryptic. Then he looked at me, waiting, as if he expected me to have the answer.

I knew exactly what that was about. The book club had torn that scene apart, analyzing every detail. But how much could I—or should I—share with Jasper? My mind raced back to Bella's first day and the conversation Jasper and I had in my house. What had I said then? What hints had I dropped?

A smile spread across my face as the memory was called up in my mind. I looked up at Jasper, my expression playful but knowing. "Remember when I said you might need to lean into the struggling vegetarian bit?"

Jasper's eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued but cautious. "Yeah...?"

"Well, it's time to embrace that," I said with a mischievous grin, "and then join me on the sidelines to watch the fireworks."

But the look of fear that flashed in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. Merde!

"Metaphorical fireworks, Tex," I quickly clarified, holding up my hands. "Ugh, I hate not being able to spit it out."

His tension eased a bit, but the concern lingered in his expression.

I leaned in closer, my voice softer but firm. "Just trust me. Go home, carry on like normal, and then... well, I expect you back at my place tonight, okay?"

Jasper searched my eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright," he drawled, though the uncertainty was still there.

A/N: Are Heathcliff and The Duck finally going to have their moment?!