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

Chapter 11: Detention

JPOV

The drive home after detention was in a word – painful. I wish I was back in the library. At least Anya's emotional cocktail was the ever-present happiness and contentment with an underlay of mischief. Plus, her music was rockin'.

Eddie boy was stewing, his frustration simmering just below the surface. Mingled in with that was paranoia, doubt, and even a little embarrassment. Hunh, that's new. Anya truly got under his skin today, not in the way he expected, but in a way that was infinitely more amusing. I almost wanted to thank her for the entertainment.

Scratch that.

It was more entertaining than anything I'd seen in a while. Hell, I had a hard time not laughing out loud when she teased him earlier.

"Jasper," Edward finally broke the silence, his voice tight and buzzing with suspicion. "What exactly was so funny back there?"

I kept my eyes on the road. Really, you truly had no idea what was funny? Should I find you a mirror bro? We were twenty minutes into our drive home; and he still hadn't figure it out. No doubt still pissed off that he couldn't pry open Anya's mind like a locked diary. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to see him this rattled. Almost.

"She made a good point," I said, keeping my tone casual. I knew Edward wouldn't let it go at that, though. Not a chance.

"A good point?" Edward repeated, irritation sharpening his words like the edge of a knife. "About what?"

I glanced over at him, unable to resist needling him just a bit. "Well, for one, she wasn't wrong about you running to Carlisle. She thought it was pretty childish, actually—' he complained to your father about detention? What age is he? Five?' was how she worded it."

Edward's eyes narrowed, his frown deepening into that familiar scowl. "I didn't complain to Carlisle," he snapped, defensive. "I was being cautious."

"Sure," I said, my voice tinged with sarcasm. "But Anya's sharp. She caught Alice and Rosalie texting right after we got those detention slips. She put two and two together. Give her some credit; she's got more going on upstairs than most people in Forks."

I could almost see the irritation rolling off Edward in waves. He hated being called out, especially by a human who, in his perfect world, wouldn't notice anything beyond her own nose. Too bad for him, Anya didn't seem to miss a thing.

"She thinks I'm childish?" Edward muttered, more to himself than to me.

I couldn't help the snort that escaped, not bothering to hide my amusement this time. "That's what I said. Seriously, Edward, you're not doing yourself any favours with all the brooding. She's not buying the tortured soul act. Maybe you should try being a little less… intense."

Edward's frown deepened, and I could tell he was mulling over my words. "And what else did she say?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent, but the curiosity was plain in his voice.

Damn, he really is bothered that he can't read her mind! I shrugged, keeping it light. "Nothing much. Just that you need to lighten up, live a little. She doesn't see the point in all the… intensity." I paused, remembering how Anya's emotions definitely peaked at mischief when she'd made the comment. It was almost like she was daring him to have some fun, to stop taking everything so damn seriously.

"She's playing games," Edward muttered, suspicion flaring up again.

I sighed, giving him a sidelong glance. "Edward, not everything is a game or a conspiracy. Sometimes people are just… people. Anya isn't out to get us. If anything, she's trying to figure out why you're acting like the world's ending because you got detention."

Edward fell silent, his thoughts still spinning with doubt and suspicion. But I could sense the shift in his mood, the slight crack in his resolve. Maybe he wasn't entirely convinced, but he was thinking about it. He was considering that maybe Anya wasn't the enemy he wanted her to be. Let's see if I couldn't help a brother out and emote a little convincing and calm.

The rest of the ride was in more comfortable silence, and I found myself trying to get lost in my thoughts without Eddie boy picking through them. Good thing vampires can think about multiple things at once.

Personally, I found her refreshing. I saw when she caught me singing along to Pink Floyd, she didn't call me out on it, nope she smiled and turned the volume up. Was this detention or did she just need free labour? She's beautiful when she smiles. And then there was the way she turned up the volume to Wuthering Heights, and singing the chorus, her eyes closed like she was anywhere but in a musty library handing out detention. It was impossible not to join in, and I dare say she liked it.

I'd spent the last ten days watching her from a distance, and it had been anything but dull. At work, she was all tailored outfits and professionalism, like she'd just stepped out of a magazine. But at home? At home, Anya was something else entirely. Barefoot in low-rise jeans and a rock t-shirt, she'd dance around her living room, lost in the music, completely unaware of the world outside. Or she'd splash through puddles in the rain, carefree and laughing.

Yeah, I wish I was back in the library. Her emotional cocktail was addictive, all joy, and happiness.

There was something about her—sharp, witty, and unafraid to challenge Edward's eternal broodiness—that made me take notice. Anya was unapologetically herself, and that was a rare thing. Even if I didn't know who she was, she was just fun to be around. She didn't fit the mold of 'librarian' and I think that's what bothered Eddie boy the most, she was – normal.

Pulling into the drive and parking, Edward was barely out of the car when his agitation flashed. I followed more slowly, sensing the storm brewing in him. He was clearly on a mission, and I had a feeling Carlisle was about to get an earful. Great, time for round two because clearly, he hadn't gotten the message yet.

The moment we stepped through the front door, Edward didn't waste any time. "Carlisle," he called, his voice sharp, "I need to know what was said in that phone call with Anya."

I trailed behind him, sensing the mixture of exasperation and amusement in the house even before I saw them. Emmett was lounging on the couch, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched Edward storm through the room. Clearly, he was enjoying the spectacle of it all.

Was it wrong that I was too?

Carlisle appeared from his study, looking every bit the calm, collected patriarch, though I could detect a hint of weariness in his expression. He'd probably been expecting this confrontation since Edward first caught wind of the call.

"Edward," Carlisle began, his tone measured, "what exactly are you asking?"

Edward crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes narrowing as he confronted Carlisle. "The phone call with Anya this morning. What did she say to you?"

Carlisle sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off a headache. He was spending too much time around humans. "Edward, I'm not sure what you're expecting, but it was a very professional conversation. If you're worried that she knows something, I assure you, that's not the case."

Edward's frustration didn't abate. "Professional? What does that even mean? What did she say?"

Emmett, who had been watching the exchange with barely contained amusement, finally spoke up. "Oh, come on, Edward. Don't you get it? Anya wasn't having any of it. She basically handed Carlisle his ass for not following protocol."

Edward shot him a glare, but Emmett just shrugged, unbothered.

Carlisle sighed again, this time more heavily. "I did call her, Edward—repeatedly—after receiving the texts from Alice and Rosalie. I was concerned, as you were. But Anya refused to take my calls at first. When I finally got through to her, thanks to Ms. Quincy, she was very clear about her displeasure."

Edward's frown deepened. "Displeasure?"

"Yes," Carlisle replied, his tone patient but with an edge of exasperation. "She made it quite clear that if you were to be missing class you needed to provide a note or reason well in advance. She was very professional but firm. Essentially, she reminded me that she's in charge of her domain, and that includes disciplinary actions."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that, earning a sharp look from Edward. "She really did put you in your place, huh?"

Carlisle gave me a look that was both amused and resigned. "You could say that. She was polite, but she didn't back down. Anya is... formidable when it comes to her responsibilities."

Emmett laughed outright at that. "Sounds like our librarian doesn't mess around. Gotta respect that."

Edward, however, wasn't amused. "And you're certain she didn't hint at knowing anything? No slip-ups, no... anything?"

Carlisle hesitated for just a moment, clearly weighing his words. "Well," he began slowly, "she did make an offhand comment about how teenage boys fainting at the sight of blood could be embarrassing."

Edward's eyes widened slightly, and I could feel his frustration spike again. "What? She said that?" Now I was getting the headache from all the frustration spikes, time to roll out a little chill.

Carlisle nodded, but there was a calmness in his expression, as if he didn't find the comment as alarming as Edward clearly did. "Yes, but I don't believe she meant anything by it. She was simply stating the obvious—that fainting at the sight of blood can be embarrassing for young men. It's a common enough sentiment."

Edward, however, wasn't convinced. "But why mention it at all? It's too specific." Yep, need more calm. He was trying his best to fight the emotional manipulation, so this called for doing things old school: with words. And reason.

"Edward, think about it. The both of us skipped science because of the blood testing lesson. It wasn't exactly subtle. And when we got those detention slips, remember what she said? 'Vasovagal syncope.' She wasn't hinting at anything supernatural; she was talking about the common reaction to blood—the kind of thing any teacher might mention when two students mysteriously avoid a blood test."

Edward's expression tightened as he processed my words, but the tension didn't entirely leave his posture. "She knew exactly what she was doing, though," he muttered, still clinging to his suspicion.

Ok, need to spread around some more calm.

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully, but his tone was calm (no thanks to me!) and rational as ever. "Perhaps she did. Anya seems perceptive, no doubt about that. But what she's perceiving are perfectly ordinary explanations. She sees two teenagers who skipped a class on blood testing and made an educated guess. She's a professional, Edward, not a mind reader."

Emmett, still on the couch felt this was the time to add his two cents, "Come on, Edward. It's not like she's figuring out our secret. She's just got your number. I mean, two boys skipping out on a science lesson because of a little blood? It's surprising it took us this long before someone complained."

Edward shot him a glare, but even I could tell his resolve was beginning to falter. Guy couldn't handle the idea he'd be outmaneuvered, and by a lowly human at that. Yet, there was as perverse sense of logic to it. And I hated to even admit it to myself, but Emmett had a point, this was the first time in my fifty odd years with the Cullens where we'd been caught skipping a blood test class and punished for it.

"She's just playing the part of the observant educator," I continued, trying to ease the tension, injecting some more light calm into the room. "She's not on to us, Edward. She's just not as easily fooled as most people. And really, can you blame her? Skipping science on blood-testing day is bound to raise a few eyebrows."

Carlisle placed a reassuring hand on Edward's shoulder, his voice softening. "Edward, you have to trust that not every sharp human is a threat. Anya is simply doing her job—handling her students with the same care and attention that she'd give to any situation."

That shut Edward up for a moment, but I could tell that wasn't fully happy, especially given the not being able to read her mind issue. Never gonna let that one go.

Emmett chuckled again, clearly enjoying the whole situation. "You know, maybe you just need to lighten up a bit. She's not trying to outsmart you—she's just a no-nonsense librarian who's good at her job. And let's be honest, it's kind of fun watching you squirm for once."

I should have just left it with the calm in the room, Edward's annoyance was finally beginning to soften but, well let's say Anya inspired me to just push the envelope a little bit. "You know, Edward," I began, barely keeping it together, "you really didn't do yourself any favours when she compared you to Heathcliff."

Edward's eyes narrowed, a warning in his gaze. "Jasper…"

But I was already too far gone to stop. "Yeah, it happened during detention. Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights started playing, and Anya just couldn't resist singing along. She even cranked up at the chorus, saying it reminded her of you—lurking outside windows and all that."

There was silence for a moment as Carlisle and Emmett processed what I'd just said. Then, Emmett let out a loud bark of laughter, doubling over in his seat. "Wait, wait—she compared you to Heathcliff? Oh, man, that's perfect! Edward Cullen, the modern-day tortured soul."

Carlisle's mouth twitched into a smile as he tried to remain composed, but the amusement was clear in his eyes. "And how did Edward take this comparison?" he asked, his voice full of good-natured curiosity.

How the fuck do you think?

Edward's scowl deepened, but I wasn't about to let him off the hook. "Not well," I said, unable to keep the laughter out of my own voice. "I think the best part was when she told him to lighten up—something about how all that brooding might give him wrinkles."

That sent Emmett into another fit of laughter, and even Carlisle chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "She really said that?"

I nodded, smiling at the memory. "She did. And then she suggested that maybe Edward should start enjoying life a little more. You know, live a little."

Edward groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "She's impossible," he muttered, clearly wishing the ground would swallow him up.

"Oh, come on, Edward," Emmett teased. "It's about time someone called you out on your whole 'mysterious and tortured' act. And I gotta say, I like her style."

Carlisle, still smiling, gave Edward a sympathetic look. "It sounds like Anya is the type who doesn't mince words. Perhaps it's a good thing she's not easily intimidated—by us or by you."

Edward finally sank into one of the chairs, rubbing his temples. "She's going to drive me insane."

"Only if you let her," I shot back. Though I wasn't really sympathetic, Anya had rattled him, and it was undeniably entertaining, to see Edward be thwarted by the lowly human.

Emmett, still grinning, clapped Edward on the back. "Look at it this way, bro—you've met your match. Just think of her as a challenge."

Edward shot him a glare, but there was a resigned edge to it. "Some challenge."

Sensing the shift, I decided to push my luck just a bit further. As I turned to leave the room, I couldn't resist softly singing the chorus, my voice carrying the familiar lines with just enough emphasis to make Edward's eye twitch.

"Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy, I've come home..."

I barely got the last word out before I saw Edward tense up.

Score Two for the Empath!

"Jasper!" Edward's voice was a low growl, full of mock anger, but I could feel a vein of humour.

I didn't wait to see his reaction. I bolted out the front door, the wind whipping past me as I sped through the trees, Edward hot on my heels. His footsteps were right behind me, gaining with every second.

But I couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up in my chest. Anya might have rattled Edward today, but in that moment, all I could think about was how good it felt to lighten the mood. For once, Edward was the one caught off guard, and it was about damn time.

Later that evening, I found myself perched comfortably in the old oak tree across the street from Anya's house. The leaves rustled softly in the night breeze, the scent of oak, pine and earth surrounding me as I settled into my familiar spot. The lights were on in her living room, and Anya moved about, completely unaware of my presence.

She was dressed in low-rise jeans and an old, worn AC/DC t-shirt that looked like it had been through countless concerts. Her hair was loosely pinned up with a pair of chopsticks, tendrils falling around her face as she moved with a carefree energy, so different from the composed librarian I'd seen earlier. This was her time—her moment to unwind and just be herself.

When the familiar riffs of AC/DC's Back in Black filled the air, I watched as Anya began to dance. It wasn't the kind of dance you'd see on a stage—it was the kind you did when no one was watching, when the music just took over and you let it move you. She swayed her hips to the beat, spinning around with an effortless grace, her bare feet gliding across the floor as she lip-synced along with the lyrics, completely lost in the moment.

I could feel her joy, her absolute delight in the simple act of dancing by herself in her living room. It was infectious. And well, once more I couldn't help myself, I let my senses stretch out toward her, allowing myself to fully soak in the emotions radiating from the house. The happiness, the joy, the sheer contentment—each feeling hit me like a wave, washing over me. And the more I opened myself up to it, the more I felt my own mood lifting. For a moment my senses were so flooded with her happiness that I felt dizzy—almost stoned by the sensation.

I leaned back against the tree trunk, letting the feeling wash over me. It was surreal, this deep connection to a human's emotions, and I found myself drawn deeper into her world with every passing second. Anya had no idea I was here, watching from the shadows, but I felt as though I were right there in the room with her, sharing in her joy.

She twirled again, laughing softly to herself as the music shifted to another song. The beat picked up, and she moved with it, her laughter filling the room as she continued her impromptu performance. Her emotions ebbed and flowed like the music itself, and I soaked it all in, feeling a strange sense of peace that I hadn't known I was missing.

Seriously, what is there to be paranoid about? She's genuinely joyful, sees the beautiful in the small acts of life and not once in my ten days of tailing her did I even get a whiff of malice. She might be eccentric but not evil or Machiavellian. She was just, Anya.

I stayed in my tree for several more hours as I soaked in her joy when dancing, then she mellowed out to contentment at which point she was curling up on her couch with a book. In due time she rose from the couch and headed upstairs. It was time to call it a night.

I really didn't want to, but I leapt down from the tree, the oak swaying gently as I landed silently on the ground. I hung onto the remnants of her joy and contentment as I made my way back through the trees to home.

Edward would kill me if he caught wind that I had allowed myself to soak in everything I was feeling from Anya—every ripple of joy, every wave of contentment—and it had been intoxicating. I'd never let myself open up like that around a human before, not fully. There was always a barrier, a part of me that stayed guarded, cautious. But tonight, with Anya, I had let that guard down completely.

And it had been... liberating.

The craziest part though? Was how, in that moment of complete openness, I'd heard and felt the pulse of her blood—a steady, rhythmic beat that thrummed just beneath the surface. I'd felt the warmth of her blood coursing through her veins, which should have triggered my thirst.

It didn't.

Instead, it was her emotions that called to me. No fucking clue why, I mean, I've been around humans for over a century, and I knew the pull of their blood better than anyone. It was an ever-present temptation, a constant test of my control. But with Anya, there was something different. Her emotions had been so pure, so overwhelming in their positivity, that they seemed to drown out the usual triggers. The more I ran to home the more I realized that I didn't really care what it was about Anya that muted my bloodlust. If this what being buzzed is all about than I will ride that high. And I didn't give a fuck how paranoid Eddie boy is about the eccentric librarian. I won't let him ruin this for me.