Chapter 13: Needs

JPOV

October 18th, 2005

Catskills, NY

The moment the five days were up, I was racing back to the cabin, itching to see Anya. I'd barely made it to the long drive, when I picked up Alice's scent, lingering around the cabin.

Why was she with Anya? Why did she get to stay with her and not me?

Jealousy flared in my chest, followed quickly by confusion. Anya wouldn't have let Alice stay unless she was okay with it. But why? What was I missing?

I forced myself to think it through. Why, Whitlock, why? Anya always had her reasons. She wouldn't do something like this without thinking of the bigger picture.

Okay, Eddie Boy's brooding. We're all in Ithaca, all doing various pursuits, and Alice…

Alice would normally be with me. In the books, we're a mated pair, inseparable. But here, things were different. Here, Alice wasn't with me. She was with Anya.

Bella. That's what this was about. Alice was dealing with the fallout of leaving her human friend behind, the ache of losing the only real connection she'd made outside of our family. And if Anya weren't here, I would be the one consoling her, the one helping her navigate this part of the story. A story Anya said revolved around Bella.

Are we even in it? Other than the birthday party fiasco?

I shoved those errant thoughts aside and focused on the fact my human girlfriend knew how much Alice had lost when we left Forks, how much it pained her to leave Bella behind. And Anya, in her own way, was trying to fill that void. To be the friend Alice needed right now.

A wave of understanding washed over me, cooling the jealousy that had flared up moments before. Of course, Anya would want to be there for Alice. She'd seen how hard this was for her. Hell, she would have read about it too probably. And in this world, where everything was so carefully balanced on the edge of what was written and what wasn't, Anya was trying to keep that balance. Yes, we must be in the 2nd playbook beyond the birthday party.

She was doing what I would have done. What I should have done.

Anya was okay. She was with Alice because that's what needed to happen. It wasn't about keeping me away or about anything I'd done wrong. It was about keeping the story on track, even if it wasn't the story either of us wanted to be living. Although I won't lie, I was enjoying my time alone with Anya, not having to pretend to be a student. I wonder, would Anya ever want to be a naughty student? Focus Whitlock!

I shoved my wildly errant and desirous thoughts of Anya aside and approached the cabin, where I caught snippets of their conversation. Alice's voice was lighter than it had been when I last saw her in Ithaca, tinged with the kind of ease that came from being around someone who understood without needing explanations. And Anya... I could hear the warmth in her tone, the way she was comforting Alice, just like she'd been comforting me for the last month.

I paused at the door, giving them a moment before I walked in. I wanted to see Anya, to hold her, to tell her I was back and that I'd missed her. Did she have any kilts or knee socks in her wardrobe? Not now Whitlock! But I also knew that what she was doing with Alice was important.

Finally, I opened the door, stepping inside quietly. They both looked up when I entered, and the smile that spread across Anya's face when she saw me made the last five days of frustration and doubt melt away.

"Hey, Tex," she said softly, standing up and walking over to me.

"Hey," I replied, pulling her into my arms, holding her close. "Missed you."

"Missed you too," she whispered, burying her face in my chest for a moment before pulling back slightly to look up at me.

Alice cleared her throat, breaking the moment, but there was no irritation in her eyes—just a kind of quiet understanding.

"Jazz," she said with a small smile. "Good to have you back."

"Good to be back," I said, still holding Anya close. "Everything okay here?"

"Yeah," Alice nodded, her gaze flicking to Anya before back to me. "Thanks to your girlfriend."

Anya smiled, a bit of colour rising to her cheeks. "Always happy to lend an ear, Alice."

I leaned down to kiss the top of her head, feeling a surge of gratitude for this woman who seemed to understand everything, even when I didn't. "You always do."

Alice stood up, brushing off her jeans. "I should get going, let you two catch up."

"You don't have to leave," Anya said, though there was no mistaking the relief in her voice.

"No, it's okay," Alice replied, her tone gentle. "I think I've intruded on your time enough. Plus, I've got a playlist to put together." She shot me a knowing look, one that was full of the lightness I hadn't seen in her for a while. "Thanks, Anya."

"Anytime," Anya said, her voice warm.

Once Alice left, closing the door softly behind her, I turned back to Anya, who was still nestled against me. "You really are something else, you know that?"

She looked up at me, a playful glint in her eyes. "You're just figuring that out now?"

I laughed, the sound filling the room with the kind of ease I hadn't felt in days. "No, I've known for a while. But you keep proving it over and over."

We stood there in the quiet, holding each other, the weight of the last five days lifting away. Anya had kept everything together, kept Alice from falling apart, and in doing so, she'd done the same for me. And just as I was about to inquire about kilts and knee socks, Anya caught me completely, 100 percent, off guard.

"Jasper," she began, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite place, "we need to talk about...needs."

I stared at her, not sure I'd heard her right. "Needs?" Like I definitely need to see you in a kilt…

She nodded, her expression serious. "Alice's needs. And if you need to fill that gap."

My mind went blank for a moment, trying to process what she was implying. Alice's needs? My thoughts raced back to what Anya had shared about the playbook, to the way things had been written to the reality of my history with Alice. Fuck, was Anya seriously asking what I thought she was?

"Anya," I started, but she held up a hand to stop me.

"Come on, let's go to the kitchen," she said, gently pulling away and turning toward the open space of the cabin. "I need to make some tea. This is… it's not a conversation for standing around in the middle of the living room."

I followed her across the room, the warm glow of the late afternoon sun filtering through the large windows, casting long shadows over the wooden floors. The lake outside shimmered, a blanket of deep blue fringed with the gold and orange of autumn leaves. The whole scene was serene, almost idyllic, but inside, my thoughts were anything but calm.

In the kitchen, Anya moved with familiar ease, pulling down a ceramic teapot from the shelf and reaching for a tin of loose-leaf tea. I leaned against the counter, watching her. My mind was still reeling, trying to latch onto something solid in this sea of confusion.

"In the books," she continued, her voice calm but determined, "you and Alice were together for decades. Your creator had written you as a mated pair—lovers. I know that. And I also know that just because you're with me now doesn't mean those needs have disappeared."

I stared at her, dumbfounded. This was not a conversation I ever thought we'd be having. "Are you... are you seriously asking me if I need to... with Alice?"

Anya filled the kettle and set it on the stove, the sound of water rushing into metal breaking the heavy silence. She turned to face me, her eyes unwavering.

"Yes, Jasper. I'm asking if you need to fill that role for her, for both of you, because of what's written."

I felt a mix of shock, disbelief, and something else—something almost like fear. "Anya, you know that's not... that's not what I want."

"I know," she said softly, turning to measure out the tea. Her back was to me, but I could hear the strain in her voice. "But I also know that you care about Alice. And all your damn creator said was 'the Cullens took to various pursuits.' What if that meant you and Alice... well, what if that was how you two coped? You, for being the punching bag, and her, for losing her friend."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. Anya was trying to make sense of the gaps in the narrative, trying to fill in the blanks that our creator had left so frustratingly vague. And in doing so, she was opening a door I sure as fuck did not want to walk through. So, we're not really in the 2nd playbook? Just the damn birthday party scene?!

"Anya," I began, my voice shaky but determined, "what Alice and I had, it wasn't just about coping. We were partners, yes, but it wasn't... transactional. We cared about each other, we still do. But it's different now. It's not like that anymore." It hadn't been for a long time.

The kettle began to hiss, steam curling from its spout. Anya took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she turned to face me again, her expression unreadable. "But what if it was? What if that's what the story needed you to do? To be with Alice, to help her through the pain of losing Bella? To help you deal with your own pain?"

I shook my head, a cold dread settling in my chest. "That's not who we are now, Anya. We've both changed. And I don't need that with Alice. I don't want that with Alice." Just let it go Anya!

Anya poured the hot water into the teapot, the scent of chamomile and mint rising in the steam, mingling with the crisp autumn air drifting in through the open window. She set the kettle down with a decisive clink and turned back to me.

"Jasper! Sacrament!" she exclaimed, her frustration bubbling over. "You don't get it. Take me out of the equation. I'm not here. You two are here, doing 'various pursuits.' Be honest with yourself. You won't hurt my feelings. But what would you and Alice honestly do to pass the time?"

I stared at Anya, my mouth half-open in disbelief. How could she be so calm about this? So rational? The idea of Alice and me… rekindling something, even temporarily, was hard enough to wrap my head around. But the idea of Anya being okay with it? About Alice and I having sex? I had no idea how to respond to her.

Anya took her mug of tea, wrapping both hands around it as if seeking its warmth, then turned and walked back toward the living room. I followed, trying to catch up with thoughts that were too quick and too sharp. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows through the large windows.

She sat down on the couch, tucking one leg beneath her and sipping her tea, looking thoughtful. I remained standing. The room felt too big, too small, too everything all at once.

She was clearly expecting me to think this through, to be honest with myself. Oh fuck.

I took a deep unnecessary breath, trying to clear my head, to push past the fear and the guilt. "If you weren't here..."

"Right," she said, urging me to continue, her eyes locked onto mine as she sipped her tea.

How the fuck are you so calm about this?!

"If you weren't here," I began again, my voice quieter, more introspective, sitting down beside her, "Alice and I would still be close. We've always had a bond, even before we were lovers. We'd probably still spend a lot of time together, talking, sharing our frustrations, trying to figure out how to navigate Eddie Boy's brooding."

"And...?" she pressed, not letting me off the hook.

"And maybe... maybe we'd fall back into old habits," I admitted, the words heavy on my tongue. Please don't make me say this, Anya! "Not because it's what we want, but because it's familiar. Because it's easier to slip into the roles we know, especially when everything else feels so uncertain."

Anya nodded, her expression serious but understanding. "So, you're saying that if I wasn't here, you and Alice might... become friends with benefits?"

"Maybe," I said, my voice strained. I am not saying the words, Anya! "But that's only because of the history we share, not because it's what we truly need. It would be a way to cope, like you said. A way to deal with the loneliness, the confusion." I don't want Alice that way.

She took a deep breath, absorbing my words. "So, it wouldn't be about love or passion. It would be about comfort. About not being alone."

"Exactly," I said, feeling a strange sense of relief in admitting it but still hating where Anya was going with this. "But that's not where we are now. That's not who we are now. I'm not looking for comfort in the past, Anya. I'm looking to the future—with you."

"Jasper!" Anya's exasperation cut through the air, as she practically slammed her mug down on the side table.

"Anya?" I asked, the tension creeping back in. I could feel that my answer wasn't what she had been hoping for. You cannot seriously be thinking I'd be excited to have sex with Alice!

She sighed, her tone softening as she looked at me with a mix of patience and something else—maybe resignation. "Oh, my sweet, sweet vegetarian," she began, her voice calm but firm. "I get that with me here, I've provided a lovely distraction, a reason to look forward. But Alice doesn't have that. What I'm saying is, if she approaches you for that comfort, I'm okay with it. I won't see it as anything more than her seeking solace in a familiar place."

"Anya..." I cannot believe we are having this conversation.

She shook her head, cutting me off gently. "I know she doesn't love you the way she did before. And I know you love me. But I'm also not an idiot. I understand that sometimes, in this world, things aren't as simple as just moving on. People—vegetarians—seek out comfort where they can find it. And if that's with you, then I can accept that."

Her words hung in the air between us, heavy with an understanding that went beyond just logic or emotion. It was the kind of acceptance that comes from deep love, the kind that understands that life—especially our lives—are not black and white, that there are many shades of grey.

I felt a pang in my chest, a mix of gratitude and something that almost felt like guilt. "Anya, you don't have to do this. You don't have to be okay with it." Hell, I'm not okay with this! You're mine.

"I know I don't," she said, her gaze steady, unwavering. "But I am. Because I trust you. And because I want to make sure Alice has what she needs, too. If that means she seeks comfort in you, then so be it. It doesn't change what you and I have. It doesn't change who we are together."

I pulled her closer, my hands resting on her shoulders as I searched her eyes. "You really mean that?" Is she lying?

She nodded, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. "I do. I mean, don't get me wrong—I'm not thrilled about the idea. But I'm also realistic. I know this world is complicated, and I know that love and comfort don't always follow the same rules here. If Alice needs you, I can handle it."

I rested my forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath, the steady beat of her heart. "I don't deserve you." Holy shit she is being completely honest. She is okay with me having sex with Alice. How the fuck did we get here? Did she talk to Alice about this while I was gone? Is Alice actually expecting this?

"Probably not," she teased lightly, her smile widening just a bit. "But I'm here anyway. And I'm not going anywhere."

I kissed her softly, trying to convey all the emotions swirling inside me—gratitude, love, respect all tangled with anxiety. When we finally pulled back, I looked into her eyes, feeling more connected to her than ever. "I love you, Anya. I love you more than anything." I am not having sex with Alice! I don't care if that's what Alice needs!

"I know," she said, her voice gentle. "And I love you, too. That's why I'm telling you this. Because no matter what happens, I want us to be okay. I want Alice to be okay."

I nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. "Thank you. For understanding, for being... you." Still not having sex with Alice!

She smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made my heart ache in the best way. "Always, Tex. Team Jasper to the end, right?"

"Team Jasper to the end," I echoed, feeling a sense of peace settle over me.

And then she surprised me once more. She looked at me wryly, a hint of mischief in her eyes, and said, "I refuse to compare notes with Alice. I draw the line at that."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. Then I laughed. "Noted," I said, still chuckling. "No comparing notes. Got it."

Anya grinned, and I could see the relief in her eyes, the way she was trying to lighten the mood despite the seriousness of our conversation. "Good," she said, her tone playful now. "Some things are just better left... unshared."

"Agreed," I replied, pulling her closer and resting my forehead against hers. "I think we can both live with that rule." You've made enough innuendos over the months to make me realize just how experienced you are.

She leaned into me, her body relaxing as she let out a soft sigh.

And then I felt it—a sudden spike of jealousy in Anya. It was something she rarely felt around me, and it was uncomfortable to say the least.

Oh.

OH.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, seeing the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "Anya!" I exclaimed, my voice full of reassurance as I cupped her face in my hands. "My sweet, sweet, beautiful librarian. I am not comparing notes either."

She blinked, caught off guard by my sudden intensity, and then a blush crept up her cheeks. "I wasn't... I mean, I didn't really think you would, but..."

"But you did," I finished for her gently, a small smile tugging at my lips. "And I get it. But I promise you, there's nothing to worry about. Nothing's happening that would make me even think about comparing notes about my time with you to that with Alice or anyone else." You are a thousand times the better woman than Maria ever was or could be.

I could feel the weight of the question settling between us, pressing down on the silence. Anya's eyes held mine, a flicker of vulnerability just beneath the surface.

Shit, she was really going there.

I took a breath, slower than necessary, more for her than for me. "Anya," I began, my voice low, steady, "you're the only human I've ever been with. The first I've ever loved. The first I've ever made love to."

Her eyes widened, a brief flash of surprise crossing her face. "But... you've existed for so long. I just assumed..." she trailed off.

I nodded, trying to convey that I understood. "What is that you always say? Assuming makes an ass out of you and me," I teased.

"Jasper!" she lightly swotted my arm.

"Sorry, you walked into that one, But I know. I've lived a long time, but humans... they were always something different. Distant. I wasn't the person I am now, not by a long shot. The thought of being with a human like this, of opening myself up like this... it never crossed my mind. Not until you."

She studied me, her expression softening as if trying to reconcile what I'd said with what she knew—or thought she knew—about me. "So... I'm the first?" she asked, and there was something almost childlike in her voice, a hint of wonder mixed with disbelief.

"The first and the only," I confirmed, pulling her closer, needing her to feel the truth of it. "And there's no one else I want. No one else I'll ever need. You're it for me, Anya." Still not having sex with Alice.

A small, tentative smile broke through her disbelief, relief softening the edges of her features. "Well, I'm glad I popped your human cherry," she said, her voice light, teasing, but with a hint of that mischievous glint I adored.

I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head at her audacity. "You are absolutely incorrigible, Anya." And damn, how I loved her for it.

She smiled against my lips, a soft, contented smile that made my heart swell. "I love you, Jasper."

"I love you too," I replied, holding her close, knowing that no matter what the future held, this was where I was meant to be—right here, with her.

"You mean you never played with your food before eating it?" she asked teasingly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

My God, this woman. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "Really, Anya? I am a gentleman!"

She grinned, clearly enjoying herself as she watched me squirm. "So, you're telling me that in all your years, you've never once... indulged a little?"

I gave her a mock-offended look, trying to keep a straight face. "I'll have you know that I've always had impeccable manners. Even as a non-vegetarian."

She laughed, a light, carefree sound that made my heart swell. "Impeccable manners, huh? Well, I guess I'm lucky to have found the most well-behaved vegetarian out there."

I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Very lucky indeed. Because when it comes to you, Anya, I'm more than happy to break a few rules."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she playfully pushed me away. "Careful, Jasper. You're starting to sound like you might not be such a gentleman after all."

I pulled her back into my arms, a grin spreading across my face. "Only for you."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm and genuine. "Well, I guess I can live with that."