Chapter 35: Duck for Lunch

JPOV

Afternoon Saturday March 5/05

This was the last place I wanted to be. At home with the family, getting ready to be introduced to The Duck—Bella Swan. As if the rest of us didn't already know who she was.

Fuck, I wanted to be at Anya's. In her home office, surrounded by her eclectic book collection, just soaking up that addictive emotional cocktail she'd have going while she worked away on her dissertation – pure joy and contentment, swirling with love for me. Her emotions override my thirst like nothing else. Besides, I'm in love with her. But no, I got stuck here, playing the role of Alice's perfect little boyfriend. Because that's what Bella's expecting, right? A perfect, happy vampire couple. How very quaint.

When I called Anya to tell her about this whole setup, she practically howled with laughter. Apparently, this scene is quite famous in the playbook. I'm supposed to lean into the whole "struggling vampire" routine: stiff posture, no breathing, barely talking. Anya's exact words? "Be robotic." Alright, I can do robotic. Hell, I've been perfecting that act for years.

But just because I'm supposed to behave didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun with Eddie Boy. When I heard the car pulling into the driveway and Eddie opening Bella's door, I began my campaign by saying loud enough that I knew Eddie would hear it outside, but not Bella, "And now the lamb enters the lion's den."

I then stopped breathing. Time to be robotic and stiff. Eddie's spike of annoyance hit me like a breath of fresh air. Oh yeah, that got to him. Score one for the poor struggling vampire. I took my place beside Alice, looking like I'm hanging on for dear life. Alice glanced at me, her expression half-amused, half-curious. "Jazz, what gives?"

I shrugged, feigning innocence. "I'm just playing my part, darlin'."

She rolled her eyes. "Mm-hmm. Well, you could have at least showered first. You smell of Anya."

Shit, I still hadn't done that. Well, I was up most of the night playing video games with Emmett, so you know, I lost track of time. I kept that thought to myself and instead, met Alice's gaze, unfazed. "Is that a problem?"

Alice shook her head slightly, her tone softening. "No, I don't mind. I know how important she is to you, but Edward might take offense."

And I care because?

Right on cue, Eddie boy walked up the stairs towards the kitchen. I could practically see his nostrils flaring as he catches the scent. I thought to myself, nice and loud so he could hear, Yeah, Eddie Boy, you're not the only one with a delicious human.

His head snapped up faster than I thought possible, but he recovered quickly, stepping up to make introductions. The ever-polite baby brother. Esme, bless her kind heart, started talking about lunch plans, mentioning that they're making Italian, like that would impress The Duck. Bella stumbled over her words, insisting that she'd already eaten and didn't want to impose.

I shot a glare at Edward, projecting my thoughts like a mental bullhorn. And it didn't occur to you to tell the rest of us this? Thanks, bro.

Rosalie's reaction was priceless. She crushed the glass salad bowl in her hands, shards falling to the floor, and snapped, "What a waste of time."

Esme was unimpressed and sharply demanded that Rosalie clean up the mess. Meanwhile, Bella was left standing there, awkward and unsure. Poor thing looked like she stumbled into the middle of a den of wolves. Oh, sugar, you have no idea.

I can out-awkward anyone. I barely moved, keeping my posture stiff, my eyes wide as if I were about to lose control at any moment. And started to mentally count the seconds before Bella began to squirm. Eddie boy was unimpressed and hissed under his breath, "Jasper, stop it. You're scaring Bella!"

I glared back, not breaking my robotic façade, and thought loud and clear, What gives, Eddie? First, you're lecturing Anya to stay away from me because I'm scary, and now that I actually look scary, you want me to stop? Afraid your precious Bella can't handle seeing a real vampire?

But why stop there? I turned up the dial just a bit, thinking, Maybe I look like I'm jonesing for a hit of heroin—oh wait, that's you, bro. Seriously, you called her your personal brand of heroin? What crack were you smoking when you thought that up?

Edward's frustration spiked, his jaw tightening to the point where I was surprised his teeth didn't shatter – hey that can happen! I've seen it! If he could've drawn venom just from the way he was digging his nails into his palm, he would've. Instead, he shook his head, jaw still locked in place, and muttered, "Just forget about it. Come on, Bella, I'll take you upstairs."

Wait a damn minute. Did Eddie Boy just say he's taking a girl to his room? What the fuck? Eddie is taking a girl to his room?

I almost broke character, the surprise too much to keep my robotic act intact. Edward, Mr. Self-Control, taking a human girl—no, The Duck—to his bedroom? The vamp who can barely handle a polite conversation with her because he's too busy fantasizing about draining her dry? My mind raced, and I couldn't resist one more dig. What, Eddie? Gonna show her your CD collection? Or maybe recite some Victorian poetry? Real smooth, baby bro.

But as much as I found it hilarious, I couldn't deny the tiny sliver of jealousy curling in my chest. Sure, Anya and I were further along in our relationship. I mean, I didn't spend a month avoiding her like the plague the way Eddie did with Bella. No, I spent practically every night at her place. Hanging out in her office, reading books, talking, dancing, hell, even playing board games. And yeah, we had some serious make out sessions on that couch of hers. But she never once took me upstairs. I mean she did ride my fingers on the hood of Eddie's car last night. Twice. But still.

Upstairs has a certain implication, a layer of intimacy that neither of us has broached. I got it, I did. Anya's human, and she has every right to set the pace. But seeing Eddie, of all people, trying to push those boundaries with Bella... It just didn't sit right. A part of me wanted to storm up there and remind him of all his lectures about restraint, self-control, about how dangerous we are. Hypocrite.

Fuck it.

I moseyed on upstairs to my room and start strumming my guitar. I couldn't sing, not if I'm supposed to be acting like I'm about to lose it at any moment, but I could play. The sound carried through the house, reaching every corner. It was like a background soundtrack to whatever pure and innocent thing Eddie's trying to do with Bella.

But what to play? What would really mess with Eddie Boy's romantic notions? Something to poke at his carefully controlled demeanour. I grinned, fingers hovering over the strings. Oh, I know. How about "House of the Rising Sun"? A classic, and the lyrics were just ironic enough. A haunting tune about a place of sin and temptation. Perfect for a guy like Eddie trying to keep his cool with a girl who smelt like a walking invitation to his darkest desires.

Emmett, bless his heart, showed up at my door just as I was getting into the rhythm. A grin spreading across his face as he took in the scene. He didn't say a word, just sat his ass down on my desk chair and began to sing along, Damn, this was perfect! His deep voice filled the room, and I knew Eddie could hear every word.

Then suddenly, I got another idea. A downright wicked idea. We're going to have ourselves a little duet with the one song I knew would rub Eddie boy the wrong way, especially if he wanted to spend the afternoon swooning over his human. After all, I had to give up my Saturday afternoon for this family lunch; the least I can do is mess up his romantic plans.

"Hey, Em," I whispered, keeping my voice low so only he could hear. "How about a little 'Wuthering Heights' next?"

Emmett's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Oh, I got you."

We started the opening chords of Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights," and I couldn't help but laugh under my breath. Our creator modeled Edward after the great gothic brood, Heathcliff himself. It's almost too perfect. The melancholic notes filled the air, and Emmett's deep voice contrasted hilariously with the song's usual high-pitched wail. We didn't care about hitting the right notes; it was the message that counted.

"Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy, I've come home. I'm so cold, let me in at your window…"

When we heard the delightful scream of Bella as Edward leapt out of his bedroom window with her on his back, I just about lost my shit. I managed to keep my expression calm, but inside, I was simmering with annoyance. Oh, so it's perfectly okay for him—the great Edward Cullen—to leap two stories with a frail human on his back, his singer no less, but me? The struggling vampire who just wants to kiss his girlfriend? No, that's apparently crossing the line.

Not even two days ago, after Anya and I shared our true feelings for one another, I've got her leaning against the kitchen counter, kissing her, letting my hands slide under her shirt and I know she wants to jump and wrap her legs around my waist. Next thing I knew, Emmett busted in Anya's backdoor and literally yanked me off of her looking sheepish as hell, saying Edward was in a state misunderstanding one of Alice's visions. Something about needing me back at the house. He had that apologetic look he gets when he's following orders, and I knew. Edward had seen something in Alice's vision that looked like I was about to take a nibble and decided to step in. Because I couldn't possibly control myself, right? Anya let out a string of Quebecois curses when she figured out what Eddie boy was thinking was happening.

Oh, hell no. The hypocrisy. I'm the one who's not trusted around humans, the one constantly reminded to keep his distance, to mind his thirst. But Edward? He's allowed to throw caution to the wind and play Superman with Bella, treating her like his own personal backpack. How is that any less dangerous than what I was doing with Anya?

"Did you hear that?" Emmett asked, clearly in as much shock as I was.

"Oh, I heard it," I replied.

Not gonna let the fucker get away with this.

Taking my guitar, I marched straight to Eddie Boy's bedroom, shoved the door open and parked my ass right in the middle of his ridiculously pristine room, guitar in hand. I made sure I was settled in real nice and comfortable, spreading out, letting my clothes soak into the room. Smelling like Anya. If Eddie's gonna keep telling me I can't control myself around humans, then fine. And I might have taken Anya's panties out of my pocket and put them on his desk. Little fucker.

I didn't care how long I had to wait. The moment he got back, I was dragging his broody ass straight to Carlisle's study. Fuck this shit – we're gonna talk like men about the hypocrisy he's been throwing around like it's gospel truth. If he wants to jump out of windows with his fragile human, fine. But I'm not gonna sit back and take his shit about how I can't control myself kissing my own girlfriend.


Sun March 6/05

Fucker took his sweet time coming home. It was practically dawn when he finally showed up. And he didn't even bother bringing Bella back to drive her home like a normal boyfriend. No, he must've run through the woods around Forks with his human on his back, then leapt up to her window to settle her into bed like some gothic guardian angel before standing sentinel over her while she slept.

Meanwhile, I passed the time playing the guitar, my fingers working out my frustrations on the strings, and texting Anya. She found the whole situation amusing, texting back with some joke about spider monkeys. What? I texted back, and she just texted, Never mind. I could tell she was disappointed that I wouldn't be spending the evening with her. But she brushed it off, saying she'd keep herself busy house cleaning. Said she'd reached a roadblock with her dissertation, so she was gonna take out her frustration against the soap scum in the bathroom, a bottle of Chardonnay for company, and Kate Bush as her soundtrack.

Damn, I love my woman. She knows how to take care of herself, and she doesn't put up with any of my shit. Not like Bella, who seemed content to let Edward be her creepy night stalker. I guess that's what makes us different. Anya would never let me get away with that kind of crap.

When Eddie finally did show up, he—yep, no surprise—leapt up into his window like some kind of hero straight out of a novel, all grace and no effort. Which I suppose ironically, he is, given how he's practically worshipped in Anya's world. I was on him before he could even take a step into his room, grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him back toward the door, grabbing Anya's panties off of his desk and stuffing them back in my pocket. He tried to protest, his eyes wide with surprise, but I was already dosing him with a heavy blanket of lethargy, enough to slow him down, make him pliant so he wouldn't fight back.

"Jasper, what—" he started but I cut him off.

"Time to face the music, Eddie," I said, my voice low, brimming with the frustration that'd been stewing inside of me for the last seventeen hours. "we're gonna have a little chat with Dad about your behaviour."

He didn't have much of a choice. The lethargy worked, slowing him down, limbs heavy. He stumbled slightly as I frog-marched him down the hallway, my grip ironclad on his collar, making sure he didn't try anything stupid.

Reaching Carlisle's office I shoved him inside, closing the door behind us. Carlisle looked up, nonplussed from his desk, where he'd been reading some medical journal, probably about the latest advancements in the human world. Edward turned to me, a mixture of anger and confusion on his face, but he still didn't quite have the energy to do anything about it. Good.

"Carlisle," I began, turning to him, my voice deceptively calm, "can I have your professional opinion? What is more dangerous for a fragile human? Being kissed by her vampire boyfriend, or leaping two stories out of a window hanging off said vampire's back?"

Our patriarch clearly was not expecting this. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He glanced between Edward and me, trying to make sense of the situation. Eddie wasn't putting up much of a fight, given I was still dosing him with lethargy, which is just as well. I'd a point to make, and I wasn't in the mood to stop.

I continued, gesturing with my free hand for emphasis, "Because, you see, I had to give up my Saturday to be at home, to play the dutiful boyfriend to Alice, because that's what Bella's expecting when she's invited for lunch. And Eddie here barely lasts five minutes downstairs before he whisked Bella up to his bedroom. Only to then jump out of the window with her on his back!"

Carlisle's eyebrows shot up at this, clearly alarmed, and his gaze shifted to Edward, who's still standing there, looking more tired than angry now. I decided to up the ante, dosing Eddie boy with some compliance. I wanted answers, and I was gonna get them.

"Tell me, brother," I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "what exactly did you two do all afternoon?"

Edward tried to resist; I could tell. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes narrowing, but the compliance took hold and eventually, he sputtered out, "I... I took her climbing... on my back…to the top of the giant pines. About 120 feet in the air on the edge of the mountain, overlooking the sound. And then we climbed the branches... even higher."

Holy shit. That would absolutely kill a human. The audacity, the recklessness. Edward Cullen, Mr. Safety First, the one who lectures me about control and restraint, spent the afternoon playing Tarzan with a girl – his singer – who could snap like a twig with one wrong move.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Dropping my grip on his collar. For a moment, I didn't even know how to respond. I turned to Carlisle, who sat there, looking as stunned as I felt. His mouth was slightly open, his brow furrowed no doubt trying to process what the idiot man-child just said. This is the guy who sicced Emmett on me because I was kissing Anya? I had the sudden urge to laugh because the hypocrisy was so fucking rich.

"So, let me get this straight," I said, voice tight with disbelief. "You're mad at me for kissing Anya, worried I'm going to lose control, but you're taking Bella tree climbing without a safety harness or a helmet? What the hell, Edward? You could have killed her! And you're worried about my self-control?"

Edward at least had the decency to look ashamed, eyes dropping to the floor. Then he opened his mouth, no doubt to give some half-assed excuse, but I wasn't fucking done – oh hell no, I was on a roll.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Carlisle," I spat out, turning to our father figure. "He gets away with anything because he's Edward. But if I so much as look at a human the wrong way, suddenly I'm a threat, I'm the one who's dangerous. How's this fair?"

Carlisle ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to find the right words. "Jasper," he started, but I didn't give him a chance to finish that thought.

"No, Carlisle, this needs to be addressed. I'm not saying I'm perfect. I know my flaws. But Edward needs to stop acting like he's the only one capable of being around humans without causing a disaster. He's not the only one who can be responsible. If he can take risks with Bella, then I should be trusted to manage my own relationship with Anya. I know my limits."

When Fucker finally did speak up, his voice was soft, almost pleading. "I was careful, Jasper. I swear I was careful."

"Careful?" I echoed, incredulous. "Jumping out of windows and climbing trees with a human is careful? And you dare to lecture Anya about how dangerous I am?

Edward's eyes flashed, and he refused to leave it be, "Yeah, well, brother, we both know that kissing is way more dangerous, so close to her neck! That is the real danger. And you spend hours alone with Anya, whereas I have to constantly have one of you with me all the time!"

I glared at him, my anger flaring again. "Eddie, Bella is your damn singer! You would drain her dry if you could! Anya is not my singer, and I don't need to be chaperoned because I'm not going to do something stupid like take her tree climbing on the top of mountains! You really wanna know what Anya and I do all evening?"

Both Carlisle and Edward were staring at me now. Edward's jealousy spiking, his face tight with frustration, and Carlisle looked thoroughly annoyed, probably because he's stuck here, having to mediate this whole mess. But I couldn't help myself. I'd spent all day thinking about Anya, about what it is we do, and I wasn't about to hold back.

"I'll tell you what we do," I started, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Half the time, we sit in her office reading. In silence! She's busy working away on her dissertation, and I'm reading her books. We might get a little crazy and dance! Oh, how dangerous. But the best part of the night with her? It's when she falls asleep cuddled beside me after we watch a movie. In other words, brother dearest, we do normal stuff. We don't go flying off mountains or leaping through trees like maniacs."

There was a moment there when Eddie boy looked like he was gonna counter my argument. But he simply couldn't reconcile that the scary dangerous vampire spends his nights reading in silence with his human girlfriend.

I almost felt bad for Carlisle who clearly was tired of our bickering.

"Jasper," Carlisle eventually said wearily, "I understand your frustration. And Edward, I know your intentions are good, but you both need to find a middle ground. You're both right in your own ways, and you're both taking risks. You just need to be aware of them."

Risks? Did he just say risks? What fucking risks am I taking? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A flare of anger surged up in me, hot and biting.

I barked out a harsh laugh, incredulous. "Risks? What fucking risks am I taking? Oh, I know! I might step on Anya's foot while we're dancing! Or, God forbid, I read a book too fast and give myself a damn paper cut!" My voice was rising, sarcasm dripping from every word, and I couldn't stop the mocking edge. "I mean, really, Carlisle. The only danger in my relationship with Anya is that she might bore me to death with her dissertation on French Resistance members during World War Two. But sure, let's compare that to leaping out of windows and scaling 120-foot-tall trees with a human who smells like a walking drug!"

Carlisle sighed, his expression one of patient suffering, the kind he's perfected over decades of dealing with our bullshit. "Jasper, you know that's not what I mean—"

"No, actually, I don't know what you mean," I interrupted, not ready to back down. "Because let's think about this, I was asked by the family to keep an eye on Anya because fucker here was adamant that she knew our secret and was going to expose us at any moment." I shot a glare at Edward, whose eyes narrowed in response. "And okay, she does know our secret, but has she ever tried to expose us? Have I ever done anything reckless to expose us?"

I turned to Carlisle, raising an eyebrow. "No, wait, that was Edward here when he got between Bella and a van."

Carlisle at this point was clearly unimpressed with where I was going with this. Edward's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. "That was different," he snapped defensively. "Bella was in danger—"

"And so was our secret!" I cut him off, my voice rising. "You think just because you were saving her life, it was justified? You were ready to expose us all, Edward! In front of a crowd! Don't you dare stand there and act like I'm the one who's reckless when you're out there pulling stunts like that."

Edward's nostrils flared, and he moved towards me, his eyes flashing with anger. "You have no idea what that was like! She would have died—"

"And that's the problem, isn't it?" I fired back. "You'll risk everything for her. You'll risk our family, our safety, just because you're obsessed with her. And I'm supposed to be the one who's dangerous?"

Edward's eyes narrowed, and I could practically see the words forming in his head before he spat them out. "At least I'm not sneaking into a teacher's house every single night!"

Fucker. He really went there, didn't he? "Edward, I am not sneaking into her house. I am invited in. In fact, I have an open invitation to stop by at any time. Anya and I have an understanding—one built on trust and respect, something you seem to have a hard time grasping."

Edward's mouth opened once more, probably to throw another accusation, but I cut him off, stepping closer, my voice low and edged with the anger that's been simmering all night. "And do you know why I can't be public with Anya? Why I have to hide what she means to me? It's at your insistence, Edward! You're the one who demanded I carry on this charade of dating Alice, just so Bella doesn't figure out something's off. All this deceit, all these games—it's your doing. You wanted Bella kept in the dark. You're the one who's made it, so I have to sneak around like I'm doing something wrong when all I want is to be with the woman I love."

Edward's eyes widen, and he hissed at me, "You're in love with her?"

"Yeah, Edward," I snapped back, not holding anything back anymore. "We're both adults. We love each other. I'm in love with her. Not just because of how she makes me feel, but because of who she is. And you know what? She loves me, too. She knows what I am, and she still loves me. We don't need to play these stupid games. It's real, and I'm done pretending it's not just to make you more comfortable."

Edward looked stunned, like he'd just been hit over the head. Fuck what I wouldn't do to be able to snap his head off! His eyes flickered with something I couldn't quite place—shock, maybe, or jealousy. Like he couldn't comprehend the idea of someone like me, with my scars and my struggles, finding love. Maybe he thought he was the only one capable of that kind of connection, that kind of risk.

"What... what does that even mean for you?" Edward asked hesitantly. "You can't have a future with her, Jasper. Not the kind of future humans want."

"Oh, and you have a future with Bella?" I shot back sarcastically. "But to answer your question, what does that even mean to me? It means I've found someone I can be myself with. Someone who knows me for who I am and doesn't turn away. Where I don't have to hide who I am, what I am."

Edward's eyes were practically bulging out of his sockets by this point, horror clear in his gaze. "You've told her about your time with Maria?"

God, this guy is clueless. No, he's a special kind of stupid, as Anya would say. I tried to spell it out for him, enunciating each word like I was talking to a child. "Eddie boy, she's from an alternate reality where we're all characters in a book—your love story with Bella, to be precise. So yeah, she knows about my time with Maria. She knows everything, because in her world, she's read about it. And you know what? She doesn't press the issue. If I want to talk about it, I talk about it. If she asks questions, I answer them. It's called communication, Edward."

Edward was stunned at those words. "Your time with the newborns?" he echoed, as if the words are too strange to comprehend. "That's in my love story with Bella?"

Well, shit. He truly does have Main Character Syndrome. I couldn't help but let out a short, bitter laugh. I nodded my head and again found myself talking to him like he's a five-year-old, because maybe that's the only he could comprehend what I was trying to say "Yeah, Eddie," I said slowly, enunciating every word. "Our creator has me as the poor struggling vegetarian who was a bad, bad vampire for nearly a century, training newborns. Drinking from humans. That's my role in your story. No doubt twisted in how you've shared with Bella who I am. So, yeah, I'd actually say Anya knows all the dark parts."

I paused for a moment, letting that sink in, before continuing. "After all, that's what you all seem to focus on, isn't it? The dark parts. You never focus on the fact that I got out. That I walked away from it all. That I made a choice to be better, to change. But no, it's always about the blood, the fighting, the killing. Like that's all I'll ever be."

Edward had the decency to at least look guilty, "Jasper, I—" he started, but I wasn't done.

"You know what Anya sees?" I shared, my voice softening as I think of her. I pause, a small smile tugging at my lips when I picture how Anya looks at me, how she makes me feel human again. "She sees a character who got the shitty end of the stick by our creator, someone with depth, history, and many layers. She's Team Jasper to the end. I'm the one she fell in love with, Eddie. Mere words on a page, and she fell for me. Not the gothic, broody hero—you. But me—the one who's always pushed to the background, treated like a walking threat."

Edward looked like he'd been slapped. He opened his mouth, then closed it, completely at a loss for words. Fucker for once had nothing to say. And I couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction at finally getting through to him, at making him see me as more than just the monster in the shadows.

Thinking of how Anya felt about me, how she loved me despite everything, I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else, "Fuck it, I'm out of here." I turned to Carlisle, who'd been watching the exchange with that same calm, concerned expression. "Carlisle, can we at least agree that none of us should be scaling 120-foot trees with humans on our backs? We can start with that. As for me, I'll be back Monday morning—I'm gonna go salvage what I can of this weekend and spend it with Anya."

Carlisle nodded, no doubt relieved that the shouting match was done. "That sounds reasonable, Jasper. Take the time you need. And Edward…" He turned to his first born, his voice softening. "Think about what Jasper's said. We need to respect each other's choices, even if they're different from what we would choose."

I didn't even bother to wait to hear what Eddie had to say, I took a page from his book and leapt out of the window and made a beeline to Anya's. Well, I did take a detour to hunt, mentally exhausted from dealing with Eddie boy. The fresh blood helped to settle my nerves, washing away the edge of irritation that's been building all night. When I finally found myself at Anya's house, the sun was just trying to rise, peeking through the heavy cloud cover. A typical Forks morning, gray and overcast, but with that faint promise of light.

The back door to Anya's house was unlocked, as always, and I slipped inside silently. I'd been here so many times, it was starting to feel more like home than my actual house. I could smell the faint trace of the cleaning products she used the night before, mingling with the warm, rich scent of brewing coffee. Smiling to myself, I imagined her scrubbing away her frustrations, Chardonnay in hand, Kate Bush playing in the background.

Stepping into the kitchen, I find her standing at the counter, making coffee. She's completely adorable in her plaid pajama bottoms and a fitted AC/DC t-shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, her hair a wild mess held in place by her trademark chopsticks. She's got one hand on her hip, the other holding a mug, and she yawned, her eyes still half-lidded with sleep.

I leaned against the doorway, just watching her for a moment, taking her in. She's perfect. Absolutely perfect. Not in that unrealistic, airbrushed kind of way. No, Anya's perfect in the way that makes her real, tangible. She's a little messy, a little tired, and completely unguarded. The kind of perfection that you want to wake up to every morning. If you could wake up every morning.

The kitchen was spotless, practically glowing in the early morning light. She wasn't kidding about the deep cleaning. I could see the shine on the countertops, the freshly polished sink, the neatly organized shelves. She really did spend her Saturday night elbow-deep in soap scum and grime, exactly as she said she would. A wave of warmth and affection washed over me. This is Anya, in all her chaotic, wonderful glory.

She yawned again, turning slightly, and caught sight of me standing there. A sleepy smile spreading across her face, her eyes lighting up even through the haze of early morning.

"Hey, you," she finally said, her voice soft. "Didn't expect to see you so early. Or... late?" She glanced at the clock, then shrugged, still smiling. "Coffee?"

"Very funny, darlin'," I replied, wandering over to her. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close in a tight—but not too tight—hug. She melted into me, and I couldn't help but pick her up, carrying her to the couch. She laughed lightly, still holding her coffee, as I settled us down, her snug in my lap. Damn, I'd missed her emotional cocktail, that perfect swirl of joy and contentment mixed with her love for me. It's like being wrapped in a blanket of pure, blissful warmth.

Anya sighed against me, taking a sip of her coffee, her head resting on my shoulder. "So, lemme guess," she says with a teasing lilt in her voice, "you gave Heathcliff an earful when he finally came home?"

I pull back to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "How the hell did you know?" Then I remember the playbook. "Right. You knew Eddie Boy was gonna be reckless."

She winked at me. "Of course. So, what did he do this time?"

I roll my eyes, the frustration from earlier bubbling back up. "The damn idiot took The Duck climbing trees—120 feet in the air on the edge of the mountain!"

Anya busted out laughing, almost spilling her coffee. "You're kidding me! That's classic Edward! Jen's daughters were utterly delighted when they read about that. Thought it was the stuff of pure romance. Jen, though? She was horrified—she's an ER doc, remember? She said it was a recipe for disaster. That damn scene is what got us all roped into reading your story in the first place."

I can't help but chuckle, the tension easing from my shoulders. The absurdity of it all is almost funny now that I'm here, wrapped up with Anya. "Well, maybe I should thank Eddie Boy for being so reckless," I mused, "or else you might never have read about me."

Anya looked at me, her eyes softening, a smile playing at her lips. "Yeah," she responded quietly, setting her coffee down on the table. "Guess I should thank him too." She leaned in and kissed me lightly, her lips soft and warm against mine.

I kissed her back, savouring the moment, the feel of her in my arms, the taste of coffee lingering on her lips. I pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, needing to feel her, to drown in everything that she is. When we finally pulled apart, she's breathing a little heavier, her cheeks flushed.

"Tex," she murmured, resting her forehead against mine, "would you be terribly upset if I just fall asleep here? I never actually went to bed."

I laughed softly, brushing my thumb over her cheek. "Whatever you want, darlin'. I'm more than happy to just be your giant pillow for the day."

She sighed contentedly at that, her body relaxing even more against me. "Mmm, lovely. But first, be a doll and put a fire on. I'm going to milk this for all it's worth. And, hmm, put on an Edith Piaf record. Perfect for a lazy Sunday."

I chuckled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before slipping out from under her. "You got it. Fire and Edith Piaf coming right up."

Moving around her living room with vampiric speed, getting the fire started in the hearth. The flames catch quickly, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room. I found the Edith Piaf record and set it spinning on the turntable. Her voice filled the space, rich and soulful, singing in French about love and loss. It's the perfect soundtrack for a morning like this, the world outside still waking up, the house filled with warmth and music.

I detoured to her home office to find the book I was reading last, Romeo Dallaire's Shake Hands with the Devil – a must read to understand the Canadian Forces Peacekeeping Role in Rwanda. Picking it up and headed back to the living room, where Anya is already curled up on the couch, waiting for me. I settled back into my spot, and she immediately snuggled into my lap, her head resting on my chest. I wrap an arm around her, holding her close, my other hand opening the book.

My feet stretched out on the ottoman, and I leaned back, feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks. Edith Piaf's voice washes over us, and I can feel Anya's breathing slow, her body sinking deeper into mine. By the time Edith is halfway through singing "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien," Anya is asleep, her face peaceful, a faint smile on her lips.

I look down at her, my heart swelling with a tenderness I didn't know I was capable of. This—right here, right now—is everything I've ever wanted. To just be, without any pretense or fear. To hold the woman I love, to feel her warmth, to be a part of her life in the most ordinary and extraordinary ways.

Sure, as fuck beat swinging through trees.