Songs Mentioned:
I Want to Break Free, Queen

Chapter 4: Various Pursuits

APOV

Sept 18 – Sept 20th, 2005 Ithaca, NY

This was the weirdest off-stage limbo I had ever found myself in. I'd been in strange situations before, but this—this was something else entirely. I'd managed to find my way to Jasper, and now I was holed up in his bedroom, waiting. Waiting for our "various pursuits" home to be ready. I refused to leave until everything was in place.

I knew it was hurting Alice. I could feel it every time she passed by the door, her thoughts heavy with unspoken words. She wanted nothing more than to talk about Bella. The highlights of New Moon had started falling into place during my flight to Ithaca. How Alice was losing her one true friend.

Sure, she had Jasper. The two of them were inseparable, thick as thieves. I'd long come to terms with the fact that they used to be lovers. I wasn't an idiot. Vampires, I reasoned, had needs too.

But Alice's backstory—how she woke up in this world of vampirism with no memory of her human life—haunted me. And now, after finally having a human friend, that connection was slipping away from her. I doubted Edward could be bothered to read Alice's thoughts, to understand how painful this was for her too.

That left me with a nagging thought: what 'various pursuits' had Meyer intended for Alice to take up while Edward effectively put the family in a time-out? Would she seek more time with Jasper? Does he give her comfort that only he can?

I spent a lot of time in prayer during my self-imposed solitary confinement. Would Carlisle be able to pull it off? To fake my death so convincingly that when Bella eventually crawled out of her funk—how long did that last again?—she wouldn't try to find me. I wanted her to hear something simple, something final. Maybe a student from school would casually mention, "Yeah, Ms. Simms was in a fatal car accident," or "There was a horrific fire at her home, something about a gas leak." And she'd accept it, just like that. The world playing one last cruel joke on her, leaving her utterly alone.

I had a lot of guilt over that. But what else was I supposed to do? I knew I couldn't stay in Forks. Well, maybe I could've stayed, but the stupid girl knew Jasper was my boyfriend. With my henna tattoo, and how over the summer months she'd sometimes catch us together at the Cullens', tracing each other's bite marks, it was obvious. I was madly in love with him, and I hadn't exactly been subtle about it.

That first hour in Ithaca, I had my own existential crisis. I'd fucked up. I'd shoved my relationship, my connection to Jasper, right in Bella's face one too many times.

I really was a special kind of stupid.

So, I stayed in that room, praying Carlisle could pull off the deception flawlessly. Not too dramatic, but final enough that Bella would just accept it. I needed to disappear. Once I got over my crisis and remembered that "the Cullens were taking up various pursuits," I started to feel a flicker of excitement. The idea of spending all of my time with Jasper, without the charade of being a school librarian and him a student, was intoxicating. We could finally be a normal couple.

Well, as normal as we could be—me from a different reality, and him a fictional warrior vampire.

I digress.

And Heathcliff was none too happy about that. Jasper had to stay out in the hall, effectively guarding my room. He threw lethargy, indifference, whatever he could muster, at Edward to keep him away from me. I hated it. I could see how the past week—from Bella's birthday to our arrival in Ithaca—was wearing him down. He should've been out hunting, gorging himself on all the "veggies" he could find, not babysitting me.

But here we were, trapped in this strange limbo, waiting for our new reality to begin.

I was never more relieved than on the night of my third day of self-imposed exile when Jasper burst into the room, whipping around and packing everything at vampire speed. His excitement was palpable, an energy in the air that made my head spin. It was dizzying trying to keep up with him, but I felt too stoned on his emotions to protest. Instead, I laid back on the bed, soaking it all in, and laughed.

Eventually, he stopped, and I arched an eyebrow at him. "Time to engage in our various pursuits?"

He kissed me in response, a swift and eager brush of lips that left no room for doubt. Then, before I could even process what was happening, he whisked me out of the room and into a car parked outside. We didn't even bother with goodbyes to the family.

Once we were in the car, a Ranger Rover I soon realized, and settled into our drive, I busied myself with hooking up my iPod to the sound system and scrolling through my playlists, searching for the perfect song to kick off this next chapter of our relationship. When I found it, I couldn't help but smile. "I Want to Break Free" by Queen. It was a bit on the nose, sure, but after three days of limbo, desperate to escape Heathcliff and his eternal broodiness, it felt like the most perfect anthem.

I rolled down the windows and let the cool night air whip through the car, then belted out the lyrics with all the pent-up energy I'd been holding in:

I want to break free!

I want to break free from your lies

You're so self-satisfied, I don't need you…

Jasper glanced over at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his amusement mingling with the thrill of our escape. This was it—the freedom I'd been craving, the start of our "various pursuits" together. I sang louder, letting the music and the moment wash over us, a declaration that we were finally free.

JPOV

Sept 18 – Sept 20th, 2005 Ithaca, NY

Various pursuits. I couldn't wait. But first, we needed to take care of business.

Carlisle was already busy handling Anya's request—to fake her death and stop Bella from snooping. He was meticulous, as always, setting the stage for our escape. I overheard him telling Fucker that he needed to check on some old medical colleagues from years ago. The lie rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so convincingly, that even I almost believed it.

Eddie Boy was too wrapped up in his self-pity to notice how ridiculous it sounded. Carlisle delivered it with such calm assurance, such unwavering belief, that I started to wonder if I was losing my gift. Maybe Carlisle was the real true empath. But nope, the mind reader didn't question it. He was too focused on his own misery to see through the façade.

I kept my distance, careful not to draw attention. Anya needed this to work, and that meant keeping Edward in the dark. The less he knew, the better. But he's a vampire, and we do have an impeccable sense of smell. When I left our room to get some food for Anya, he was waiting for me. Pounced, really, demanding to know why she was all over me. Why the two of us seemed so damn happy while he wallowed in misery.

Well, Fucker—you did this to yourself, I thought, the words flashing through my mind before I could stop them.

Edward's eyes shot up, narrowing. "Me?" he hissed; his voice laced with venom. "You nearly mistook Bella for dinner! Or has tempting Anya already made you forget about that?"

Right. I was the struggling vampire who nearly took a snack out of the human. I should be wallowing in guilt and self-loathing, just like Edward. He wanted me to join his pity party, to share in the burden of his never-ending grief. That's not to say I didn't feel guilty about the birthday party, but I shoved it down. There was no room for that now. Not with Anya waiting for me, not with the future we were about to seize. Edward glared at me, his emotions tittering between judgment and frustration.

It was in that moment when I heard Anya's voice in my head, a wry comment about sheer boredom. It was enough to snap me out of Edward's mental assault. So, I took a page out of Anya's playbook, projecting boredom, lethargy, indifference—anything I could muster—to keep him away from her.

It worked, but it also meant I spent the next three days literally standing outside my bedroom door. Anya on one side, myself on the other, like some kind of twisted sentinel. I couldn't even leave to get the damn food she needed; I had to rely on Alice for that.

Poor Alice. I could feel her pain, her deep desire to talk to Anya, to connect with her again, even if Edward couldn't see it. She hovered nearby, her emotions brushing against mine, longing for a conversation that she knew she couldn't have. It tore at me, feeling Alice's loneliness so acutely. Edward, so wrapped up in his self-loathing, couldn't see what his decision to drag us across the country was doing to her. She had lost her only friend. Selfish fucker.

And the one person who I suspected might understand—though I wasn't sure how I knew—was probably Anya. But we needed to keep up this charade of sheer boredom, so that Anya wouldn't be forced to create any more unnecessary ripples.

On the night of the third day, Carlisle returned. He slipped a small sheet of paper into my hand.

You can go.

YES. Our cabin, our retreat in the woods, was ready. I couldn't help myself—I whipped around the room, packing up her belongings at vampire speed. At first, Anya tried to keep track of what I was doing, her eyes following me as I moved. But eventually, she settled back on the bed, her eyes glazing over, her face a mask of pure contentment. I swear, Anya looked stoned.

She was stoned off my joy and excitement, much like I often was over the summer months when she was buried in her dissertation work.

When I finally stopped, she looked up at me, her voice soft and playful, "Time to engage in our various pursuits?"

I could only kiss her in response. Damn, I loved this woman.

Once we were in the car and on our way, she was already fiddling with the music. Queen's "I Want to Break Free" was blasting at full volume, the windows down as she sang her heart out.

I couldn't help but smile, glad to finally be away from Eddie Boy and his suffocating presence. There was no way I could ever explain to him how inexplicably happy she made me, and how I made her feel the same.

And as we drove deeper into the night, heading toward our future, I had the same thought I'd had when we first decided to run away to the Catskills: I hope this existential crisis lasts for a very long time.

Living with a human is interesting. There's no other word for it. We were closing in on our place when Anya pulled a sheet of paper out of her coat pocket and handed it to me.

A grocery list. The woman wrote a grocery list.

Right. Because she's human, and unlike me, she can't just pop out for a bite if she gets peckish. The cabin was deep in the Catskills, and unlike Forks, where she could stop in at the grocery store several times a week, as was her wont, that wouldn't be possible out here.

I glanced over at her, amused. She was already thinking ahead, planning out meals and supplies. I couldn't help but admire that about her—the way she balanced the practicalities of her human life with the unpredictability of living with someone like me.

Scanning the list, my mind was already calculating where the nearest town was, how quickly we could stock up before retreating to our secluded haven.

"I'm going out on a limb here, but there are some basic human comforts where we're going, right? Or am I going to have to learn to cook my food over a campfire?" she asked, her tone teasing as I made our detour into town to get her necessities.

"Anya! We are not animals!" I replied, mock indignation in my voice, though I couldn't help but smile.

"You sure about that, Tex?" she shot back, a playful glint in her eyes.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Positive. There's a fully stocked kitchen, running water, and even electricity. No campfires necessary."

"Good to know," she said, a grin spreading across her face. "I'm all for roughing it, but let's not get too wild."

The thought of Anya trying to roast marshmallows over a campfire while I stood by, the ever-useless vampire who didn't need to eat, made me laugh.

"Is there a fireplace, though?" she asked, and I saw her excitement dampen slightly. My poor Anya—she was thinking of her beautiful home in Forks, with the three fireplaces: one in the living room, another in her home office, and even one in her bedroom upstairs.

"Yes, Darlin', there's a fireplace," I reassured her, my voice softening as I saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes. "A large river rock fireplace, right in the living room. It's the centerpiece of the cabin, with stones handpicked from the stream that runs into the lake. You'll love it—there's nothing quite like the way the firelight dances on those stones."

I took her hand, hoping to draw her into the vision I'd been crafting in my mind. "And there are large windows, love. They stretch from floor to ceiling in the living room and give you an uninterrupted view of the lake. The water's so close you can almost reach out and touch it. You'll be able to sit by the fire, watch the sunset over the water, and feel like you're part of the landscape."

Her gaze softened, but I knew she was still thinking of Forks, still wondering if this place could offer her the comfort she needed. "There's more," I continued, knowing I had to paint the picture completely. "There's a wrap-around porch that hugs the cabin on three sides, with space to sit and have coffee in the morning or watch the stars at night. And down by the lake, there's a dock—just imagine taking the canoe out on still mornings, or sitting at the edge with your feet in the water."

I could see her starting to envision it, the tension easing from her shoulders. But I knew what she needed most. "There's a large office space, too. It's quiet, with a view of the forest and the lake, perfect for you to work on your dissertation. You can spread out all your notes and books, and still have plenty of room to think and breathe. It's a space made for creativity, and I know you'll find it inspiring."

"And upstairs…" I paused, a smile playing on my lips as I watched her anticipation build. "There's a large bedroom with one full wall of windows overlooking the lake. Imagine waking up to the sunrise filtering through the trees, the lake shimmering just outside. And the ensuite bathroom has every creature comfort—heated floors, a deep soaking tub, a walk-in shower with a rain showerhead. It's designed to be your sanctuary."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "You seem to know quite a bit about where we're going, Tex, given I know you never left the bedroom door trying to keep Heathcliff at bay."

I couldn't help but laugh, lifting my hand to take hers in mine. "We have multiple properties scattered around the country. The one we're heading to is an old retreat of Carlisle's and Esme's. It's secluded, but comfortable. A place where we can be ourselves."

She sat there, her fingers beginning to idly trace the bite marks on my hand, a habit she'd developed that I found both soothing and intimate. "Does that mean, Jasper, I'll get to see your genetic defect when the morning light floods our bedroom?"

I chuckled, a deep warmth spreading through me at her playful tone. "Oh, I certainly hope so. In fact, I'm sure in time you'll get bored of it."

She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. We both knew that wasn't likely. I could see the way she was already lost in thought, her fingers continuing to trace the patterns on my skin, the scars that marked me in a way nothing else could. It was how I dazzled her, she once said.

I remembered one afternoon when I had been tidying up her henna tattoo, trying to keep the intricate designs sharp. She couldn't sit still, her fingers itching to trace over the bites on my arms. Her touch was always so gentle, so reverent, like she was trying to commit every line and mark to memory.

"That's how you dazzle me," she had whispered, half-teasing, half-serious. And I could only smile, amazed at how someone like her could find beauty in the remnants of my past.

Now, as we drove deeper into the Catskills, I couldn't wait to see her reaction when the morning light did flood our bedroom, casting everything into sharp relief. I wanted her to see it all, to know every part of me. And somehow, with Anya, I knew I could.

When we finally arrived at the small town, she refused to let me go into the grocery store with her. Instead, she insisted I find my own food, telling me to take my time because she wasn't planning on rushing through her shopping.

"Oh, right," I muttered to myself, realizing I hadn't hunted since the night before we left Forks. Keeping Edward at bay had taken its toll, metaphorically emptying the tank. Anya knew that, of course. She wasn't afraid I'd hurt her—no, her concern was purely for me, for the way I needed to replenish myself.

I could see it in her eyes when she spoke, the gentle insistence that I take care of myself. She leaned in quickly to kiss me before she started to exit the car, "Go on, Tex, I'll be fine in here. Just meet me back in the parking lot when you're done."

I hesitated for a moment, watching her as she walked toward the store. She looked so at ease, so in her element, even in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere. It struck me again how different our worlds were, how much I relied on her to navigate this new life we were building together.

But she was right—I needed to hunt. The past few days had drained me more than I wanted to admit. So, with a final glance at her, I turned and headed into the woods, letting the familiar instincts take over as I searched for something to take the edge off. All the while, I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was to have her by my side, someone who understood what I needed even before I did.

When I got back to the car a while later, Anya surprised me yet again. She was struggling to push a large shopping cart filled to the brim.

Now, I knew women loved to shop. I'd spent enough time with Alice and Rosalie to understand what an addiction looked like. But this? This was something I couldn't fully grasp.

"You gonna pop the trunk there, Tex, or just stand there with your mouth open?" she teased as she finally reached me.

I blinked, snapping out of my daze. "Are you preparing for the apocalypse?" I stuttered, trying to take in what exactly she had purchased and why in such vast quantities.

She roared with laughter, shaking her head before falling back on her favourite line when the answer should've been obvious. "Special kind of stupid, Tex."

"Anya!" I protested, still trying to wrap my head around the mountain of supplies. "Yes, I am!"

She rolled her eyes, giving me that exasperated-but-fond look she had perfected as she started heaving the bags into the trunk. Once she was done, she leaned in and kissed me. "Tex, I didn't just get fresh produce and meats. I had to get seasonings, baking supplies, pantry staples. Plus, other things, like toilet paper and toothpaste."

I felt a wave of realization wash over me. Of course, she wasn't just stocking up on food—she was preparing our entire life out there, thinking of all the little things I'd never considered: the human things she would need to live comfortably. Like toilet paper and toothpaste.

Once we were settled into the car and back on the road, my mind was still racing. How often would she need trips into town for human supplies? How did we manage this? The logistics were swirling in my head, and I couldn't help but feel a bit out of my depth. I might've been a strategist on the battlefield, but this was a whole different kind of planning. We didn't even have grocery stores when I was human.

She must have caught onto my confusion because she continued to laugh at me, her voice warm and teasing. "Mon Dieu, Jasper, the look on your face merely proves my point about how much your creator leaned into 'suspend disbelief.'"

I glanced over at her, half-amused, half-bewildered. "What do you mean?"

She paused, as if realizing she'd said too much. Tilting her head, she huffed softly, then settled on, "Well, I suppose it makes sense." It was almost as if she were talking more to herself than to me. "The boring everyday details can slog down a love story. Still, given my background in researching the everyday lives of ordinary women in France during the war, I suppose I can't blame your creator too much."

Ahh, the author. Or "creator," as Anya always called them. The knowledge Anya was drawing from—the understanding of my world—came from words in a book. I could see her point: chapters on vampires' grocery shopping probably weren't what a tween audience was dying to read. But knowing Anya, her craving for detail and accuracy, especially with her dissertation on the intricacies of everyday life, those omissions would certainly irritate her.

I could almost picture her, hunched over her notes, frowning at the gaps in the narrative, wondering how on earth anyone could overlook something as fundamental as what humans need to survive. The dissonance between the romanticized world of the Cullen family and the practical realities of life was something she couldn't easily brush aside. Which also left me with an errant thought – does there come a time when there is a human living with vampires? I knew better than to ask.

"I guess grocery lists don't make for thrilling fiction," I mused, trying to push the thought to the back of my mind, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.

"No, they don't," she agreed, her voice softer now, thoughtful. But then her mood shifted again, and she turned to me with that familiar mischief in her eyes. "But barring any major disasters or a case of a bad gastro bug, we probably have enough toilet paper."

I laughed, the tension in the air dissolving as her playful tone worked its magic. "Good to know we're prepared for all eventualities," I replied, shaking my head with a grin.

"Hey, you never know," she said, grinning back. "In all those apocalypse scenarios, no one ever mentions running out of toilet paper."

"True," I conceded, still amused by her practical approach to survival. "We'll be the most well-stocked cabin in the Catskills."

"Damn right," she said, her voice filled with that infectious confidence that always made me feel like we could handle anything together. "I may not be a vegetarian, but I am a librarian, and I have a better idea of what I'll need than you."

"And that's why I love you," I said, my tone teasing but sincere.

"And I you, Tex. My beautifully imperfect, blameless man. Team Jasper to the end." She replied, her voice softening as she brought my hand to her lips, kissing it gently.

I couldn't help but linger on her inflection of the word blameless. Edward might continue to blame me for almost snacking on his Bella, but Anya never saw it that way. She never once looked at me with anything other than understanding and acceptance. Damn, how I loved this woman.

Her unwavering belief in me, meant more than I could put into words. In her eyes, I was more than just a soldier with scars or a vampire struggling with control—I was simply Jasper, the man she chose to stand by, no matter what.

"Team Jasper to the end," I echoed, squeezing her hand as the night enveloped us, the future feeling a little less daunting with each passing mile.

A/N: be prepared to be dazzled….