The tale of how Alice and Jasper (Darksper) met, fell in love, and joined the Cullen coven. One—shot. AxJ. REVISED.

I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I know this isn't exactly what you were waiting for. But don't worry, to make up for being such a procrastinator, I will reward you with this fic and a new chapter for Beautiful Fate (in approximately 5 minutes). In return, I think it's fair that I demand reviews, right?

xoxo ei

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beauty and the Dark

Alice's POV:

I was furious, as I was most of the time.

I couldn't remember and that infuriated me, that I had no idea who I'd used to be.

Someone — an old man, I think — had told me my name was Mary Alice. Did I know him from somewhere? I couldn't be sure since, again, I couldn't remember! And I'd never seen him again since the pain. He had been there during the pain when I screamed bloody vengeance and begged for divine intervention, trying to comfort me. Then he'd vanished like so much smoke between my fingers.

The pain, oh, the pain.

that was another thing. For the few others I'd met, it was their strongest memory, and still brought forth a remarkable amount of cringing and flinching. I could remember it happening, but the experience itself had disappeared into the ever—widening chasm for the forgotten.

And then there was the family: the three men and two women. I kept seeing them — not in the town, no, in my mind. Every now and then, the surroundings would disappear and I would — sometimes with startling clarity and other times just in silhouettes – see the quintet speaking, moving, killing though not people, but animals.

How odd.

I couldn't do that. I didn't know how to live off animals. Certainly, it pained me to kill people but I didn't understand their methods; I didn't have options. How they could bear the thirst?

And him.

There was also a man – not with the five; I was sure he was alone. He travelled extensively and when I saw him, he was running, through wood or forest, hill and dale; always running — running away. He was like me though: he killed the humans as well.

And though I would hardly admit it to myself, I loved having visions of him, yearned for them even, as I whiled my time away alone. And sometimes, I would see us...together. They made me the happiest. I would never consciously confess this, but he intrigued me. Every time, he blew across my eyes, I forgot how to inhale, though of course I didn't need to.

He always had the same wounded expression torturing his features. I longed to smooth out the wrinkles that knit his eyebrows together. He was tall and willowy, golden—haired with a strong jaw—line and a nose that was almost regal. And in the sunlight, he was shocking. I couldn't get used to it no matter how often I chanced upon the sight, even though I knew it happened to me as well. His skin sparkled, like so many tiny diamonds. His shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, even while he sprinted.

Though he couldn't compare to a gazelle, no matter how poised, but he had a manly and leonine air about him that I loved. He moved gracefully and lithely, and more virilely than any other man. Sometimes, a perfect statue, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal, seemingly carved by Michelangelo or the like. He was utterly resplendent in the open when the sun could reveal him in his full glory. His profile was forever imprinted into my mind.

He was so beautiful.

Yesterday, I'd seen him here. In this bar, seated quietly in the corner, frightening the waitress with his claret eyes.


I glanced at the wall-clock as I entered. I'd been waiting outside for him, but the rain had made it difficult for me remain unnoticed. "What town is this?" I asked the bartender as I clambered on to the barstools.

He looked at me strangely. "Philadelphia."

One of the slovenly men by the bar leered at me. "Anythin' ter drink, dear?"

"Nothing at all, thank you," I said sharply. He was going to come, wasn't he?

My visions did show the future, I knew that much, but I was unclear of the specificities. How was I to know if they happened today, tomorrow or years from this moment? Months I'd tried. Looked everywhere to find him. Trying to piece together the visions. See a consistency in what I was shown. He must come; I saw us. And that hasn't happened yet. If it was the future, there still wasn't a guarantee that he was coming today.

"Missy, why you lookin' so mopey?" The grubby, unshaven man gave me a simpering smile. "Ain't you a pretty lil' thing? Wan' me to buy yeh a drink, lady?"

Ignoring him, I frowned in disgust and looked past him to the entrance. A waitress was backing away from the table by the entrance; she was quite pretty, for a human, with shiny brown hair, large eyes, and rosy cheeks. I hopped off the stool and went toward the front, my eyes wide and wondering.

He was staring out of the window, distracted by the human tendencies of the world, watching the cars puttering down the muddy, rainy roads. As I advanced toward him, he suddenly turned around. He looked me up and down with a calculating expression as though he were sizing me up for a fight. He clenched his fists and his back stiffened and he leaned forward, as though preparing to spring. I walked slowly now, trying to keep my movements sinuous and calm.

He relaxed now and watched me, curious. I stopped in front of him and reached for his hand. Automatically, he took my hand and and stared down at his shoes, looking confused and abashed for thinking to attack me.

"I've been waiting. You've kept me waiting a long time," I whispered.

He looked at me, the confusion replaced by chagrin. He ducked his head and mumbled, "I'm sorry, ma'am."

I sat down on one side and he sat down on the other – the waitress made a move as if to approach us again but I glared at her and she backed away.

He waited politely for me to begin, and I found, to my horror, I didn't know what to say. He was more beautiful than my wildest daydreams had conjured.

"I—I…" I cleared my throat unnecessarily. "I've been getting visions — I get visions of the future, you see. And I've been seeing you, almost daily for the past few weeks. I thought it was important, because I can see us, together, that is, going somewhere." I fought hard to keep my face emotionless. If he said no… I refused to complete the thought. "I don't know exactly where we are going, but there are others like us. They're different. Your eyes and my eyes, they're red, but theirs are gold. I can see a future with them. And I think they can help…us…me," I corrected, realizing he had no obligation to go. I then added, "maybe you."

He surveyed me and nodded.

"What's your name?" I asked quietly, feeling self-conscious.

"Jasper Whitlocke." I closed my eyes; his voice was low and reassuring, like ambrosia for the gods. He titled his head and looked curiously at me, asking me silently.

"My name is Alice."


"I—I don't know." I looked away, a little shamed.

Jasper had been born in 1843 and had volunteered in the Civil war, rescuing and removing from the south all the women and children. One of these women had bitten him. When he had come to, she'd taken him in and used him, and scores of others, to help her fight for control of large populous cities in Mexico. When Jasper had escaped he'd stayed with a friend and then took to wandering around the country, looking for but not finding an alternate to his dark rut. Treachery and vengeance had been his constant companions and as a result he was often surly; his sultry voice rarely lit up.

Despite that, I couldn't help but like him. He had a brooding mysterious aura that excited me. And although the details I gave him were rather in lacking, he agreed for reasons he kept to himself. So in our peculiar duo, we set off, looking for the umber—eyed quintet, that I only knew were somewhere west, near Canada.

It was difficult, disappointing work.

My visions were intermittent and not always clear. The only clue I had was a house. A large house and a sign flanking the nearby land that said Hoquiam. The journey wasn't far, but rather suspenseful because I was afraid that, once there, I would find no one. I didn't want to let Jasper down. So we traveled slowly, leisurely even, as though on a grand tour of America, careful not to miss anything. During the day, when not hunting, we camped in wooded areas – we could hardly venture into towns with so much sunlight. At night, we scoured the adjacent cities for the house I often saw in my visions.

We didn't speak very much, after our initial meeting. Jasper was quiet, hardly breaking the silence by telling me to be careful when we came upon tricky terrain and his gentleman's instincts came through.

We came upon his friends Peter and Charlotte who were mates. They had acquired a summer home out in abandoned country and insisted that we stay with them for a while.

Charlotte gave us a warm welcome. "Well, Jasper, I haven't seen you since we found —"

"— Since we found Charlotte," Peter said hurriedly, casting a furtive glance at me. Jasper clearly had secrets.

"This is Alice," Jasper told them, nodding at me. "Alice, this is Peter and Charlotte, very good friends of mine."

"Alice? Is she—?" Charlotte began, but fell silent again at a swift look from her mate.

Peter smiled genially at Jasper. "Well, conversation is long overdue, old sport. But why don't we go hunt? All of us, then? No point conversing over an empty stomach."

"The men fight when they're hungry," Charlotte told me, smiling indulgently at Peter and Jasper. "They're like little boys." She winked. "Alice, I know simply the best place – shall we show you?"

"I—I…sure." I smiled easily at her.

We set off and I realized we were heading into town.

"Here?" I asked uneasily.

"There's a prison down at the end, Alice," Peter told me, soothing my qualms. "That is usually what we treat ourselves to. Otherwise, our summer home is quite near a highway; every now and then, someone's automobile will break down…"

The prison was huge. It was more like a compound that stretched almost a mile wide.

"Go ahead," Charlotte prodded me forward.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked, hesitating.

"Of course, I am, but Peter and I…we have our own tastes. Indulge yourselves. Meet us at home in two hours or so. Alice, Jasper." With that, they disappeared into the town.

Jasper strode toward the entrance. Obviously, he had been here before. He clambered easily up the wall and hopped over. I copied him, but in that time, he had disappeared into one of the buildings. I sighed and picked the one on my right. Thankfully, everyone was asleep – the last thing I needed was for them to scream; it always ruined my appetite.

I finished quickly and disposed of the bodies, and started searching for Jasper – I didn't know the way back to Peter and Charlotte's so I needed to find him, at least that was my excuse. But his scent was everywhere – a cross between pine and honeysuckle – but a stronger trail led into the building across from mine. And there I found him, crouched over a body.

"Done?" I asked cheerfully.

He leapt up, his beautiful face twisted into a hateful snarl. "No!"

I took a step back.

He strode out of the building and I followed at his heels. He froze as he realized I was following him. "What?" He demanded.

"I'm just waiting," I explained. "I don't know the way back to Peter and Charlotte's…I'm waiting for you."


He resumed walking and I followed him. "Why are you following me?" He growled, stopped again so suddenly I tumbled into his back.

"I just want to…" Be with you. His eyes widened, like he'd read my mind so I quickly added, "Can't I watch you hunt?"

"NO!" He shouted, looking furious and a little insane.

My jaw dropped.

He started running away from me toward the nearest building.

I followed him. "But why?" I persisted.

He stopped in the doorway and turned to face, his face the angriest I'd seen it. "You cannot watch me hunt!" He shouted in my face. "Do you understand, Alice?" He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "You cannot watch me hunt – do not follow me. I am not your friend! Do you understand me?" He shoved me backward, away from the door, away from him.

I could have caught myself, but I was so stunned at this new side of the usually well—mannered, Southern gentleman I was used. I staggered backward and fell to the ground, stunned.

He stared at me for a moment, and then turned into the gloom and disappeared.

Once, I came to myself, I turned on my heel and ran out of the compound, in the vague direction we had come in. Peter and Charlotte had returned to their home, and the noise they made alerted me to their location. Charlotte was immediately the welcoming host. "Alice, how did you like the taste of our local – Alice?" She caught sight of my crumpled face for a split second before I slipped in the bathroom — made purely for decoration, of course — and locked myself in.

"Alice?" Peter knocked hesitantly. "I know you don't need to use the ladies' room or is there something we should be worried about?"

My answer was a strangled sob that managed to escape my clenched jaws.

"Let me take care of this, Peter. I'll give you one guess about who is behind it; go find Jasper!" She knocked on the bathroom door. "Alice, darling. Why don't you come out?"

I didn't answer.

"Alice, you should realize that since this is my own home – I would not hesitate to break the door down, dear. But if you came out of your accord, it would save tedious explanation to the carpenter we would bring to fix this and then devour."

I didn't want to bring them trouble, so I stepped out, shielding my face with a hand.

"Oh, Alice," She embraced me. "You can confide in me – what's wrong, dear?"

I opened my mouth and was suddenly aware that four feet were currently walking into the house, and another sob slipped out. Charlotte, too, realized this. She shooed me upstairs.

I couldn't hear them talking so I crept down as far down the stairs as I could without been seen.

"What the hell was that for Jasper? You're nearly worse than Peter."


"You don't treat Alice – you don't treat any woman like that, vampire or not – what the hell were you thinking, Jasper? You should know better!"

"I was trying to protect her!"

"And a fat lot of good you did – I wouldn't be surprised if she was afraid you now…"

This was met by a flinty silence.

"As she should be," Jasper announced, although his voice sounded thick.

"Oh please, we all know you're really just a great baby – if you weren't so afraid to just deal with the things that bother you —"

"I'm not worth it."

"Oh, shut up, you incredibly thick—skulled brute." Charlotte then scoffed, apparently turned speechless by her disgust. "Peter, you tell him, I can't talk to him anymore."

"Jasper…" sighed Peter. "Why?"

"I've never let her hunt with me, but today –" With a jolt, I realized this to be true; but why? "– you know what it's like for me after I hunt. If she just hadn't wanted to come with me…I don't want her to feel the same things that torture me."

"You haven't told her?"



"The things she feels, I think she would be better off not knowing I know what I do."

"Jasper!" Charlotte, apparently, had gotten over her disgust. "I don't care why you did what you did – you go up there and apologize, right now. I will not have an unhappy guest in my home!"

"Charlotte, you don't understand. Apologizing is the very —"

"Very first thing you will do!" She thundered. Footsteps started toward the staircase, so I hurried back to the bedroom, my mind whirling, and curled up at the foot of the bed.

He was trying to protect me? From what? I wasn't afraid of him in the slightest. And what torture did Charlotte mean? What things did he know about how I felt that? It was all very perplexing. The one thing that was not was that he did not want me. He had made that clear enough.

I hugged my knees and tucked my chin against my chest, forlorn.

'I just want to be with you.' 'No,' he had said, like he'd known exactly what I felt. The thought made me want to cry again; I let a few cries escape, muffled by my knees.

"Alice?" His voice was no longer harsh, but soft and tenderly caring. I cried harder, my sobs nearly inaudible. I looked up at him, standing in the doorway, relived that I could no longer shed tears; there was no need to embarrass the both of us. He sighed and mumbled something colorful under his breath, running a hand through his blond hair, looking stunning, unfairly so. "You're angry with me?" He asked quietly, taking slow steps toward me.

I shook my head, standing up; his chin was on the same level as my forehead.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you – it was uncalled for," he said, his voice breaking as he stood next to the bed, looking down at me.

"It's fine," I whispered, not trusting my voice.

"No, it's not," he whispered, taking my hands, which were curled into fists. "I've hurt you, haven't I?"

I didn't answer.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and took me into his arms; I buried my face into his chest like a child, revelling in the comfort.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you protecting me from?" I asked quietly.

He froze.

"I heard." I didn't dare meet his eyes. "

He took one of my hands again, rubbing them between his. "I'm protecting you from myself."

"Why? I'm not afraid of you," I told him defiantly.

"I'm not good for you."

"Does this concern whatever it is that tortures you? Or what you know that you know I wouldn't want you to know?"

"You're a very thorough eavesdropper."

"Does it?" I asked again, refusing to let him evade the question.


"What do you know?"

"Several things."

"What is afflicting you? Let me help you. I'll share your pain."

He laughed darkly. "There is no need for that," he said in that reassuring way and suddenly I was overcome with a feeling of well—being.

"But, I want to help you…" I said, uncertainly though I'd forgotten why he needed my help...

"Just be yourself. That will be enough."


"Must you leave tonight?" Charlotte whined.

I glanced at Jasper who nodded firmly – was it just me or did his smile look a little forced? "We think we've tracked down the house – we must go find them; the earlier the better. Besides, I think we're really overextending our stay as it is."

"Well, if that must be," She sighed. "Alice, I should prepare you for your journey."

"What?" I looked to Peter who groaned.

"Charlotte, that is wholly unnecessary."

"Don't be ridiculous, Pet," She said airily. "She's a woman – she needs these things, regardless of her mortality, or lack thereof."

"What — ?"

"Let's go shopping, Alice!" She exclaimed brightly.

"I—I really don't think that's necessary," I stuttered. "What a waste of money…"

"Is this how you repay our hospitality? I'm speechless. Jasper, I would think any lady that caught your attentions would have better manners —"

Aghast, I agreed immediately.

"You'll regret it," Jasper murmured, quietly.

The four of us trooped into town – the sun's rays muted by the morning fog – to a couturey, full of the latest fashions of the age. As we entered, a whole entourage of attendants surrounded Charlotte who smiled imperiously. "Yes, Dolly, dear, show Alice here, some of your best won't you?" One of the girls disappeared into the back of the store.

"How do you do that? Isn't it risky?"

"Oh, I'll eat one once in a while, but the service is extraordinary. Girls, take her away. Alice, if you do get hungry, just be sneaky about it." A group of girls surrounded me, taking measurements. As soon as they had surrounded me, Charlotte shooed them away. "Bring the clothes to us," She ordered. "I'll decide what she'll wear." They sent us some couture and Charlotte sent me into the greenroom to try on each piece of apparel. Eventually, she decided on a few choices, and sent these along with Peter.

"Charlotte," I said demurred. "Really, this is too much; I hardly think —"

I saw Jasper faintly shaking his head.

"Really, Alice. It's ever so much fun to dress you up – like a life—size version of the dolls I had when I was a child."

I laughed nervously.

She smiled and followed Peter to the front of the store. I followed her obediently, looking curiously around – I hadn't been in a store since my transformation, that is, assuming I had while I was human. A display of women's wigs caught my attention and I went toward them. I picked up a curl of black hair not unlike mine. I had often wondered why my hair was short like a man's and spiky like a mace. It could hardly be because of fashion – women wore their hair long.

The tresses in my hand reminded me of Charlotte's luxurious locks; I felt a pang of jealousy. Did Jasper like long hair? No doubt; why on earth would he prefer my crude, boyish cut?

I pulled it on, adjusting it before a mirror. It altered my appearance and while I considered myself somewhat pretty, I couldn't honestly tell which façade I liked better.

Jasper came up behind me, surveying my new appearance.

"What do you think?" I asked, aware of my voice trembling.

He gazed at my reflection, my eyes locked with his.

"Which do you like better?" I asked.

He stared at me for a moment longer and then looked away, swallowing.

"I like your hair better."

My jaw dropped.

"Why?" I asked, stunned – could he honestly…?

"More convenient, isn't it?" he offered, shrugging and walking away.

My shoulders slumped. Was that all? He compared my gauche style to his – ideal for rough travel. A facility, not an enhancement. With a jolt, I realized, I hardly knew anything about him at all. What did he think of me, this girl who threw herself at him, blind to his subtle signs of rejection?

I yanked the wig off my head and tossed it aside angrily, catching up to Charlotte and trying to brush off the stinging feeling of rebuke. She and I met up with Peter who had to man—handle Charlotte into leaving the facility.

Beside Peter, Jasper scowled.


Finally, we found the house.

I turned to Jasper. "We…found it," My voice broke and I realized I was frightened because I didn't know what would happen next. At the best, we might join this coven; at the worst…he would We gazed upon it, taking in its rather commonplace appearance, anticipating what lay inside.

His smile dripped off his face as though he could my sense my happiness turning into something else. "We found it!" he repeated, trying to smile.

"What will you do now?" I asked him, half not wanting to hear the answer.

"I—I will…probably… — we should go talk to them," he said, suddenly not completely coherent.

"And then?" I asked, hating myself for putting so many hopes on this journey, but I had to know.

"I don't know."

"Will you leave?" I asked, not able to hide the misery in my voice, but managing to keep my face clear.

"Leave?" He repeated blankly. "Leave? Alice, how…" He took my hands and brought them to his lips. "Alice, how could I possibly leave? I—I love you. I need you!"

He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.

I was too stunned to react and when he pulled back, he looked worried. "Say something, please?" he pleaded, looking uncertain.

For the first time in my immortal life, I couldn't breathe if I'd had wanted to.

"Oh my god," I whispered. "Oh my g —"

"Was I wrong?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"About what?" I asked perplexed.

"All this time, I could sense that you held some affection for me. I could feel your love, or so I thought – did I read you wrong?"

"You felt my love – what?"

"That's my power, Alice. I can sense and manipulate emotions and I thought—. Alice, say something, please?"

I shook my head wordlessly and I heard a sharp intake of breath, though his face did nothing, but register a stony quality. "Jasper, I —" I started to sob, my emotions getting the better of me.

"Did I hurt you, again?" he asked anxiously.

"No, dear god, no." Somehow, words failed me; I couldn't tell him what I had longed to confess. Recklessly, I kissed him, running a hand through his hair.

"I – love – you," he murmured against my lips. "Will you have me?"

"Yes, yes, yesyesyes," I mumbled, kissing every bit of him that I could reach. "I love you so much, it hurts. I just can't believe you—."

He pulled away, sighing. "I know. That was my fault. I just – didn't want to damn you to sharing my miserable existence."

"What?" I breathed.

"The reason I didn't let you come with me when I went hunting – my power forces me to experience the emotions of my dinner the instants before they die – the fear, terror. They linger after I've eaten, which is why I'm in a towering rage after I eat. If you caught me in such a temper, I could hurt you; worse, I could upset you."

"I love you!" I repeated, forcefully. "I want to share your pain – I told you before."

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, I walk into yours." He kissed me again.


When we entered, there was no one in sight and my face fell, devastated. But Jasper put a finger to my lips and pointed upstairs. But before we could advance, someone traipsed downstairs. He was wearing a suit, fidgeting with his lapel and tie. When he saw the two us, dishevelled and leery, his face broke in a cautious smile.

"Welcome, welcome. What can I do for you?" His voice, whether he meant it or not, was reassuring. The blond vampire motioned to the divans and we settled on them. I noticed him eyeing Jasper with interest.

"My name is Alice. And this is my - Jasper." Jasper smiled slightly at my slip. "Hello, Carlisle."

He blanched. "Have we met?"

I looked at Jasper for encouragement and in answer, he gently squeezed my hand. "I don't know how to tell this to you, Carlisle, I've been having visions of you and your family for months. I can see the future – I'm prescient – I've been seeing your family…" I fell silent; this was hopeless.

"Why are your eyes different from ours?" Jasper asked.

"My family and I only drink blood from animals, so our eyes remain gold. If we reverted to a human diet, they would remiss to red." He said simply.

Dubiously, Jasper looked at me. "Jasper is an empath, you see, and so the emotions of his victims have been troubling him even after he feeds. Your lifestyle might be the answer for him."

The empath looked dubious. "Alice, I don't know," He muttered.

Two women came hurrying downstairs. One was built like a model, tall and statuesque with long blond hair, the other equally pretty but in a homey way with honey-colored hair. They sat next to Carlisle.

"Hello, Esme, Rosalie." I introduced Jasper and myself again and repeated my spiel. They looked taken aback by the fact that I knew so much about them. "When are Emmett and Edward coming back?"

All of them blanched again.

"I like these people, Jazz, let's stay with them." He smiled at the nickname.

"Alright – for you." He kissed my nose.

Carlisle nodded, watching our exchange. "Of course, you are, of course, welcome to join us our coven. I know our family would enjoy more company."

"Great!" I grinned. "Which room is ours?"

Carlisle looked stunned, but recovered rather quickly. "Feel free to pick a room upstairs." He said uncertainly.

After a few hours, the rest of the family returned. They were as I had seen: two women and three men. They all watched me, shell-shocked, as I greeted each by name.

The youngest, Edward, had been the first to join Carlisle's coven and could read minds. I frowned; no one would have any privacy.

Edward shrugged at me. "I try to keep the invasiveness to a minimum."

I scowled. "Doesn't that annoy you?" I demanded the other members of the household. "That he answers your thoughts rather than what you say?" I threw him another dirty look; he just smiled.

Rosalie, laughed. "We're all used to the lack of privacy. No one gives it a thought anymore."

Edward groaned. "Oh, real witty Rose."

Rosalie was extremely pretty, with voluptuous blond locks, and curvy sort of figure. She smiled a toothy smile at the man next to her, Emmett. He seemed alright. Loud and boisterous, but only as dangerous as an old St. Bernard.

And sweet Esme. I liked her especially. She was so warm and homey, reminding me of warm baked bread, and home-made chocolate chip cookies. "He's such a good boy, he tries so hard."

Edward gave me an embarrassed smile went up the stairs.

"Do you like shopping?" Rosalie asked me, appraising my present state critically. I nodded. She grinned and patted my arm. "Don't worry, then. We'll get along very well, Alice."

A terrible roar echoed throughout the house. Edward raced downstairs, snarling. "What the hell happened to all my stuff?" He demanded of Carlisle.

Carlisle smiled shiftily and turned to me. "Er…"

Edward glowered at me. "Where are all of my things?" He growled.

There was a snarling noise and suddenly Jasper was wrestling Edward to the ground.

"Jasper!" I cried.

Emmett quickly pulled them apart.

"Don't yell at her!" shouted Jasper, glaring furiously at Edward who was taken aback.

"Jasper, it's okay." I pushed him behind me into Carlisle who was frowning. He tried to reason with Jasper. "Please don't shout…he didn't mean…Edward has a very petulant…I want to retain a peaceful atmos…"

I turned back to Edward and led him to the basement. All his things were arranged just as they had been upstairs. "They're in the basement," He stated. I nodded. "Why are they in the basement?"

"Carlisle said we could have a room."

"There is a guest bedroom, you know," he said tightly though he seemed to be pressing his lips together to keep from smiling.

I laughed. "I know, but your room had the best view.


For a while, things seemed to get easier: living with the Cullens who were kind, being with Jasper. The diet took practice, but fared better for Jasper who was no long as morose, smiling more than I'd ever seen from him. It had been effortless joining this family, and as I looked around at the content, smiling faces, like it had always been this way instead of since last week. Edward was playing the piano with the rest of us in our respective pairs, gathered around him.

As he came to the end of another one of his compositions, Edward's body tensed and he looked out the window, a crafty smile on face. "Excellent," he purred. "Lunch." In a flash, he was outside, running into the forest; he was the fastest of all of us and Emmett the strongest.

Esme was laughing. "We might as well all go." The others got up and also headed outside, except Jasper and I who remained where we were.

"Will you not come with us?" Carlisle asked.

"We're full, thank you," Jasper said.

When the others and left, I turned to him, quizzically, "You went last week – are you sure you're not hungry?"

"I don't care," he murmured, kissing my jaw. "I haven't been alone with you in so long."

"Is that so, sir?" I asked. "I thought your intentions were more honorable," I teased.

He stared at me for a moment, gauging if I was displeased, and then murmured quietly, "I love you, Alice."

My breathing hitched and I mumbled back, "I love you, too."

He pressed his lips to mine and even though he'd kissed me so many times before, I still felt as though I'd melt into a puddle at his feet. His hands were slipping up my back as I kissed down his face to his throat, sucking and biting his skin.

"You're going to leave a mark. What would the others say?" he teased.

I kissed him hard, showing exactly how much I didn't care, feeling his body tensing beneath mine. Even as he smiled, his face started to dissolve and I could no longer see his comely features in front of me.

"Jasper." That was my voice, sounding ragged, but mine nevertheless. "Oh, god. Jasper…Jasper…Jasper!" Jasper was lying on top of me, our bodies molded together like we'd never come apart.

"Alice." And that was Jasper's, rougher than usual. His face held something between a grimace and a reverent expression, but mine…I couldn't quite place the expression on my face; it was something like terrified delight, whatever that indicated.

I came to, slowly aware of Jasper kissing my neck, kneading my shoulders that had become rigid and stiff as they did during my visions. "What did you see?" he asked curiously.

"I—I…" I couldn't hardly look at him, let alone answer, although I knew very well what I'd seen and my body was trilling excitedly, very aware of his touch.

"You're happy?" He tilted his head.

"It was a nice vision," I acknowledged. That was an understatement if anything was.

"I love when you're happy," he said quietly. "It makes me happy to see you smile. You make me very happy." He kissed me, and this time it was gentle and slow. "You saved me from myself, Alice."

He picked me up and flitted upstairs to our new bedroom and began to fumble blindly with the doorknob. After a tense second with no success, he muttered an oath and broke down the door. The wood shattered easily as he carried me over the threshold and collapsed on to our new bed.

"We are not going to be on their good side," I giggled even as Jasper muttered something colorful about the Cullens.

His hands were all over me, peeling off my clothes as I wrapped my arms around his neck kissing him for all I was worth, and unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off him, allowing him to pull mine over my head and off.

He didn't move for a moment, drinking me in. I fidgeted under his gaze, casting my eyes anywhere but at his. Finally, I decided to throw caution to the winds and I reached for my clothes discarded on the floor.

"Don't," he murmured, grabbing my hands. "I just wanted imprint this into my memory forever – you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

The feeling of embarrassment fled as he started kissing me again, but his hands and arms were uncomfortably rough and calloused on my bare skin. I shifted uneasily as they chafed my skin.

Somehow he picked up on this. "What's wrong?" he breathed, freezing.

I shook my hands, glancing at his hands. My "nothing" melted into the air as my mouth opened in horror as I took in the multitude of scars that patterned his arms, like crescent—shaped tattoos.

I looked back at my own small, solitary scar on my breastbone, remembering the pain, how I'd received it, embossed forever on my alabaster skin. Jasper's face was stony as I followed the scars up his arms into a warped, feathery pattern that was luminescent on his already pale skin by the bright glow of the lamp beside us that threw the designs into shallow shadows.

"Jasper," I gasped, horrified. "Is this what you meant by the wars in the south?"

He didn't answer, glancing away from my searching gaze. I didn't have to be an empath to know he felt rebuked, the same way I had felt about my shorn mane. Ugly.

"Jasper," I whispered.

He grunted noncommittally, protecting himself.

"I love you."

He still wouldn't look at me.

"I love all of you," I said desperately, not wanting him to feel inferior. "I want all of you to be mine." He looked at me, not surprised but wary.

"How could you love this?" He asked hoarsely.

I didn't answer him, but rather began to kiss his scars, the engravings on his arms, the reliefs on his chest, the carvings on his neck. "I. Love. You." I said taking his face in my small hands. "Every scarred bit, my little soldier."

He looked stunned, watching me carefully with both his eyes and his power for any signs of an untruth. When he found none, he relaxed, still watching me with an odd look, his eyes fluctuating from ocher to obsidian and back. Then, the levee in his eyes broke, something shifted; his eyes turned pitch black, like he had gone beyond the point of no return.

He tossed me roughly down on the mattress, his hands a blur even to me, ripping my remaining clothes and his clothes off so very quickly. He was kissing me again, but it was different, intrusive; his tongue insistent as it came into my mouth; his touch rushed and abrasive rather than the gentle grazes I was used to.

Still it gave me a rush, a thrill of excitement, knowing what was coming, being able to show him exactly how much he meant to me. "How did I get so lucky?" I whispered.

When he pulled back, reaching to strip off his underclothes, I sighed dreamily; what a beautiful man I had with me. Without a response, he bore down me, entering me in one swift motion. "Oh," I cried softly, shocked at the lack of a prelude. He was deaf to my sounds, his breathing and guttural throaty sounds deafening, as he pounded into me with abandon.

"Jasper," I cried as he moved, if possible, faster and harder. "Jasper…" I couldn't bring myself to say anything except his name. I knew if I said anything indisposed, he would again feel tawdry about his marred body, and yet, I felt so afraid of this new side of him.

I wanted my gentle, protective, charismatic Jazz back.

I cried as he tensed suddenly, his body going stiff. "Jasper!"

"Alice," He hissed as I felt where we were connected feel so very hot and the pain increase by a tenfold. His face was terrifying, but I knew exactly what the expression on my face was now: terror.

"Jasper, you're hurting me," I said quietly.

He stopped moving instantly, looking down at me as though he'd just seen me for the first time. He muttered an oath, looking terrified, jumping up, pulling on his clothes at an insane tempo with feverish hands that shook. He didn't look at me as I pulled myself up to watch him.

He paused on the threshold, his profile silhouetted in the doorway; I reached a hand toward his back. But he ignored it and I could hear him thundering down the stairs with staccato steps.

I let my hand fall to my leg and trembled involuntarily as a breeze from the slammed front door fluttered the drapes.

The Cullens would be returning in a few minutes. I knew that I should get up, robe myself so that when they returned it wouldn't like some jejune had just had her virtue pillaged. And yet, if I wanted to be perfectly honest, although I hated to think badly of Jasper, that was exactly what happened.

"Jasper? Alice? We're home," Emmett called in a mockery of a homely husband, the kind that Jasper wasn't.

I stood up to pick up my clothes and dress myself and fell to the floor. I could have sat back down, but the pain had taken me by surprise; an excruciating throb that echoed from my core to my aching limbs.

"Alice?" Carlisle asked, sounding uneasy. "Esme, go up there – I think there's something wrong. Alice?"

I didn't want her to find me on the floor like a wallflower knocked out of her place, but moving I could not consider – the pain rivaled the agony of my transformation.

"Oh, Alice." Esme's sweet face was rent in horror as she found. She scooped me up, carefully, not jostling my bruised chasses. "Alice, what happened? What did he – what was he thinking – where is Jasper?"

"I…don't know."

Her face hardened, flashing with anger. She gently placed me on the bed and ordered me to not move until she returned. She was smiling kindly, but even as she stepped out, I could see her smile morph into a truly hideous snarl.

"Edward! Emmett! Carlisle!" She called angrily. They came to her as if they were genies summoned from a lamp. "Find h-him," she ordered her sons, her voice shaking with rage. "Drag him here if you must – I will rip him to shreds. Carlisle, perhaps, your medical expertise may be helpful, that is, if Alice doesn't feel violated, or more so as it were."

"I could help, as well," Edward added, but Emmett shouted this idea down: "Forget it, brother," he advised, chuckling. You couldn't take her virtue if you tied her down let alone trying to defend it. Save it for the humans, Edward."

They went out the door bickering and Esme hovered in the doorway, hesitating, "Alice, it is alright if Carlisle sees you?"

I nodded.

Even so, Carlisle entered with his eyes closed, his breathtaking face unsure of my assent. "What – can you —," he struggled to find the words. "What did he do, Alice?" he finally decided to ask.

"It was so unlike him," I said, pleading his case. "But he was so violent; it scared me."

"Why didn't you tell him to stop?"

"I didn't – I love him," I confessed. "I don't care if he hurts me; he doesn't know any better."

"I am going to strangle that fool," Esme snarled.

"Esme." Carlisle put his hand on top of her shoulder. "Perhaps, we should leave this to them; it wouldn't do for you to get mixed up in it although, know this Alice: if he hurts you again, we would feel compelled to —"

"Torch him," Esme groused under her breath.

"—Keep him from our home – for your safety."

"Oh, you mustn't," I pleaded. "He loves me. He wouldn't do it on purpose."

"Carlisle, listen to her," Esme despaired. "He's catechized her."

Carlisle ignored his wife, touching my limbs cautiously. The pain had faded, and he diagnosed that I would be fine – vampires recuperated very quickly as it was. But more importantly, I had to talk to Jasper.

At this point, Emmett and Edward returned, empty-handed.

"Where is he?" Esme thundered.

"He told us to go without him," Edward admitted sheepishly.

"And you listened?" She growled, throwing up her hands. "Did I not make myself clear?"

"He manipulated us," Emmett said defensively.

"He wouldn't have come back anyway," I said, coming down the stairs after getting dressed. "I'll have to see him myself."

"Alice, I don't think that's the best idea," Esme demurred hesitantly.

"He wouldn't hurt me," I persisted. Five pairs of eye questioned my sanity. "On purpose," I amended at the look on their faces.

"Well, that's the problem isn't it?" Esme muttered under her breath.

"Alright," Carlisle agreed, laying a restraining arm on Esme's shoulder. "But Edward will be watching." He nodded significantly at his oldest son.

"Don't watch too long," I told Edward, frowning.

He smiled, ruffling my hair. "Only as long as necessary. I know he loves you."

I could smell his scent trailing across the forest adjacent to the house, spearmint and honeysuckle. I ran faster, wincing lightly as a few sore spots continued to ache, though the pain was fast fading.

As I came to a halt, I saw him reclining against the bow of a tree, arboreal destruction around him. I tried to approach him silently, but he heard me. Without looking at me, he said in a halting, gasping tenor, "Don't come any closer!"

"Jasper," I wheedled. "Really? This is nec —"

"Don't take a single step, Alice; I'm warning you!" He said, his voice rough with anger.

I lifted my foot and very conspicuously took a step toward him. He glared at me, his eyes flashing with some uncontained emotion. In a flash, he was up, in my face, his beautiful face terrifying and more enchanting than ever. Even so, he only held the expression for an instant. His features relaxed into disgust, self-loathing – I didn't need to be an empath to read him.

I took his hand in mine and squeezed it gently.

There was a moment, so blindly fast even for me, that I might have imagined it when his face was stricken with such naïve, open emotion, he seemed very human. Then, it was gone and he was breaking. "Alice, I'm sorry. So very sorry," He apologized profusely, sobbing with heartbreaking intensity. I held him in my arms, his body shaking mine.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I murmured, pressing my lips to his shoulder. I cupped his face and turned it toward mine, touching my lips to his. "And I know you love me."

"How can you touch me?" He asked, staggered. "These hands that coerced you, that ignored you when you cried —" He stared at my hand holding his as if it was a ghastly apparition. "I didn't know how," Jasper pled. "The first time – there was only pleasure…and pain for those too weak to force their whims. I made sure I was always pleased. That was the way it was done."

"Jazz, I forgive you," I said cavalierly.

"Give me a chance, please, Alice. Let me show you that I can love you."

"You have infinite chances," I promised. "You can do to me whatever you want – except leave."

"Don't be absurd."

His head dipped as he trailed his nose along my shoulder and the side of my neck up to my ear, his lips leaving a scorching, shivery trail in their wake. My whole body was trembling and I let out a small, involuntary whimper.

He glanced up, thunderstruck, his sixth sense picking up a very tragic detail: I was afraid of him.

"You're afraid of me." It was not a question, but I refuted it.

"No, Jazz – I'm just…"

"Terrified," he answered for me.

"No," I repeated. "Jasper, I want you." He looked at me doubtfully and then resumed his kissing, torturous and amorous.

"Oh, Alice." He sighed sadly. "What have I done to you?" I couldn't look at him; I was so ashamed of making him feel this way. Gently, with no sign of anything more to come, he gently pressed his lips to mine, showing me he wanted to be gentle, at least until his other side took over.

In a moment of rash rationale, I pressed my body harder flush against his. His eyes widened, but he made no attempt to stop me. I kissed his neck and nipped his ear, careful not to break the skin – he had enough scars as it were.

His hands were again sweeping off my clothes and his in haphazard movements. His eyes were wavering again – ecru to onyx – like a dam on the brink of overflow.

"Jasper," I whispered, stroking his face. His eyes seemed to pop, but they remained gold, his hands coming up to graze my feminine flesh. He began to shift, raising his torso to slide me underneath his.

"Don't move," I breathed, my lips whispers on his skin. He froze his feature wrought with perplexion. I molded my body to his, running my hands across his smooth, planed body, my body splayed across at his waist. My hips pressed to his, grinding together, each wave of ecstasy accompanied by an echo of the past's pain. "Jasper." His name rolled raggedly off my lips as his hands danced all over my body. The ecstasy heightened. "Oh god. Jasper…Jasper…Jasper!" I was biting and kissing his neck.

"Alice," he groaned, low in my ear, his hands slipped back up my body, pressing me close. We were both immobile for a moment and then we sighed in contentment.

"Thank you," He whispered.

"For what?" I asked teasingly. "I'm yours."

He shook his head although the corners of his lips did turn upward. "You have no idea what you can and have done for me." If it was anything like what he was to me, I thought I had a pretty lucid idea.

We clothed with post—climatic, gentle caresses and soft kisses and traipsed back to the house where my bodyguards were waiting like an army on the brink of total war.

Esme started as we came in through the door. She glanced from me to Jasper and back to me, her eyes disbelieving. The men sighed in relief; Emmett elbowed Jasper meaningfully and gave me an insinuating wink, which I fully ignored. Rosalie who had been examining her finger nails with animated interest surveyed the two of us with a detached lack of interest and turned away, loping gracefully up the stairs.

When she got to second floor, she hesitated on the landing. "Who went through the door?"

So I hope that you guys enjoyed Beauty and the Dark. I love this I think the best out of all my fics so far. How do YOU feel about it, hmmm?

But first, I have to ask. Should this fic be rated T or M? I mean, there is no explicit sex in here although Alice and Jasper do do it, and that's obvious. But the way I wrote it, I felt that it could go as T. Someone tell me if it offends them that this is T rather than M.

How many Lady Gaga's songs could you catch in here? I Like It Rough ? Starstruck ? Bad Romance ? That's three and counting...any more? Let me know in a review.