Summary: After the Cullens abandoned Bella and Jasper in the wake of Bella's disastrous birthday party, they find their lives taking unexpected turns. Drifting through his days, Jasper decides to use his powers to have a little fun at the grocery store, and it could change everything.
This story draws from the one-shot I wrote for the Lovin' in the Oven contest ( www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/ u / 2399920 / Lovin_In_The_Oven_Contest ) called "Clean Up in the Produce Aisle" – it can be found on my profile. If you have a hunger for tasty lemons, you should check out all the other contest entries, they are fabulous!
I want to give a big round of applause to one of the coolest ladies in the fandom, Leelan Oleander, who is kind enough to call me on my shit and also provides great moral support and is just generally full of awesomesauce and win. Also thanks to mzbionic, twisample14 and frantic-daydreamer for having a look at this for me and giving me some much needed feedback. Also, I'm sticking with the Canadian spelling, get over it!
This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.
Hmm, pink. Pink - ah! Precious Princess Pink.
Hmm, red? Maybe…no wait. Mulberry. Yes mulberry, what is that song? "Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the…" I started humming along to the tune in my head only to be interrupted.
"Pumpkin! Are you listening to me at all?"
I frowned and huffed, irritated at being disrupted from my singing, however tone deaf and cringe worthy it may have been. Back to what I was doing; yes, Mulberry, or no, wait-what about Confucian Crimson?
"Damnit woman this is important!"
I looked over at my husband, standing there in all his manly glory, trying his hardest to glare down at me. I could see the amusement ripple across his features as I held two bottles of nail polish up to him, waving them around to indicate I wanted his opinion.
"Ugh, neither. Do that one where it's all natural and shiny with the white bit on the ends." He shook his head at me, still struggling to hide his smile.
"French Manicure." I hummed in thought, considering his proposal, then smiled up at him. "Thanks Princess," I cooed at him, all sickeningly sweet.
His head whipped around, glaring at me for once again calling him Princess. He turned his back on me and resumed his pacing of the living room. He had been doing this for days, trying to go over the plan, trying to make everything 'perfect'.
I picked up my glass of Riesling, smirking at him over the rim as I carefully considered my next option. You could only push him so far. My husband had a great sense of humour, but he also had a strong sense of duty, and I wasn't in the mood for another one of these discussions. I took a sip of the cool liquid and decided on my own little plan.
I tried to hide my smile as I reached over to pick up another bottle from off of the coffee table by my feet.
"Dark chocolate?" I waved the offending bottle of nail polish in his direction, quirking an eyebrow. This could go either way, but I had another trick up my sleeve.
"Goddamn it, Pumpkin. This is fucking important. Stop fucking around with your goddamned foul smelling beauty crap and pay attention. You know, you used to be real smart."
He whirled around and snarled at me, impatience taking over and pushing his usual playful demeanour to the backburner. This would not do. In order for this discussion to be productive at all, he needed to be in a more agreeable mood.
I shrugged my shoulders, replacing the brown nail polish and reaching for my ace-in-the-pocket. I had been saving this one for a special occasion, and it seemed like now was the occasion. I turned my head and called over my shoulder.
"Sister dearest, hubby is being so cruel to me; he won't even help me pick out a nail colour. Whatever is a poor girl to do with such a big mean man?"
Quick as a flash, I saw my 'sister' waltz into the room. Flashing her eyes over to me, she caught onto my plan quickly and grinned. Looking over my husband appraisingly, she tutted and turned to me.
"Well sister-mine, we just can't have that, now can we? Who needs men anyway? You know, I could always help you out with your little problem." She winked at me as she leaned over, brushing her breasts against my arm while she reached to grab the bottle out of my hand.
"Why yes, I do think you are in need of some Luscious Lesbian…Lavender," she said, winking over at hubby.
Upon seeing the look on his face, we both cracked up- the combined force of our giggles nearly bouncing me off the couch before I managed to right myself.
"Oh, for the love of Gord, girls, who the hell makes up names for these things anyways? Lesbian lavender? What the hell!"
He was ranting and roaring and failing his arms around wildly, but I could tell my mission had been successful when I saw the amusement dancing in his eyes. He suddenly dove, tackling us both and knocking us, along with the couch, backward in the process. I sighed in relief, laughing along with the two of them; he knew why I was being a brat, and that he needed to calm down, but he just couldn't do it on his own.
"Okay, Big Poppa, now that we're all settled, let's get this couch righted and get me another glass of wine since you so gracefully knocked mine over." I giggled from my position, lying on the floor, on my back, with my legs flailing in the air.
I smiled up at my husband as he leaned down to help both of us up off the ground, and then righting the couch before disappearing to the kitchen. He returned shortly, carrying a fresh glass of wine for me, and settled himself on the red leather recliner across from us.
"OK, alright, I'm focussed now." I clapped and then rubbed my hands together, calling our little session to order. "Apparently it's time to go over the plan, again, and discuss all the details."
I looked over to the recliner expectantly, waiting for the point of his earlier ranting to come clear.
"Alright my little lesbian lovers, I don't know when, but things are going to start to change soon." He was leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands together under his chin. He was eyeing me suspiciously, waiting for me to pipe up with some wiseass comment.
"Yeah about that, why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't we just be direct about all of this? Or hell, why are we even bothering with this elaborate plan?"
I crossed my arms and glared at him with exasperation. Yes, I always knew he was one for dramatics, but this was pushing the envelope even for him.
Stretching out in the recliner, resting hands behind his head, he grinned over at me.
"Oh my little darlin', this is going to be so much fun. You don't know even half of what is in store for you."
I looked over at the blonde bombshell grinning on the couch next to me and sighed. I just can't win with these people.
"Yeah, what's with that…I know you're not telling me everything, but what I don't get is WHY you won't just tell me what you know! What am I missing? This is my LIFE, not some fucking game for your amusement. You are my HUSBAND, no matter how little that means to you…"
My rant was cut off by two very aggressive sounding growls. I shut my eyes and began banging my head against the back of the sofa. Good god.
"Yes, I am your husband, and you are my wife, and don't get me wrong, I very much enjoy your wifely devotion." Without even looking, I could tell he was wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.
"*cough*slut*cough*" I turned my head to wink at sissy and stifled a giggle at her expression. She was struggling to fix me with a disapproving glare but failed miserably when I slid over and rested my head on her lap.
"Oh, honey, don't worry, I can be wifely devoted to you too." I wiggled my head around in her lap and tried to look up at her innocently as I reached up and patted her left tit gently. Unfortunately, or fortunately I suppose, the bounty that were her breasts were kind of obscuring my view of her face. I could still feel her shaking with laughter.
"Ok, girls, enough dicking around. This is serious." He giggled and continued, "I said dicking…oh god." Clearing his throat, he stood up and paced over to the fireplace. He turned his back on us, and I could tell that he was gently tracing the lines of his medals from the war.
"Honey, I know you don't understand why this is so important, but you…" he broke off, and his shoulders hunching over in defeat. "Damn it, you can barely even talk about it. Do you remember what you were like when I found you? Do you want to have to keep running, keep hiding all your life? I know you love me, as I love you, but this just isn't the way it's supposed to be."
He pounded his fist down on the mantle, flakes of granite raining down to his feet.
"Fuck sugar, we have to do this." He raged, fists clenched at his side, frustration and anger evident in his posture.
"Sweetheart, we know that maybe you are feeling apprehensive, and I...we understand that. But you need to know that no matter what happens, we will always be there for you, and we will always support you. Yeah, maybe Sir Breaks-A-Lot over there is making this much more complicated than it needs to be, but he wouldn't lead you wrong. You need to listen to what he has to say." I moved my head out of her lap and looked my sister in the face. This might have been the first time I had ever heard her sound so serious. She was a snarky bitch like me, and the fact that she was being so sober about this shocked me.
I frowned to myself. I understood where they were coming from; I still couldn't wrestle my way out from under the thumb of my past. I get it. I whimpered, and then suddenly found myself encircled by strong arms, squished up against luscious breasts. I nestled my face into my sister's hair and breathed deeply, finding comfort in the familiarity.
"Ok, I get it. We can't keep going on like this, I need to move forward, but…" I sighed to myself and turned to face Big Poppa, "I just don't understand why all the subterfuge, the drama. Can't we just…I don't know, be direct about this?"
"Because direct won't work!" He roared, twirling around to face me, and stomping across the room to stand over me.
I gazed up at his face; normally so relaxed and carefree, now drawn with tension. His eyes nearly black with anger, his brown hair falling across his forehead, his lips pulled tight, his chest rising and falling violently with rage. My eyes continued their path downwards, appreciating the strong lines, the dips and bulges of muscle emphasized by the tightness of his t-shirt, further, until I reached the buckle on his belt.
Fuck me. I stared at his belt buckle, willing my mind to see something else, but no, I couldn't erase this. His big shiny silver belt buckle, standing prominently and less than three feet from me had captured all of my attention. It was an oversized monstrosity of chrome and lacquer, and it was staring me right in the face.
I looked up at the man who had literally saved my life so many times and could hardly suppress my laughter. Soon I was shaking with the effort it took to hold in my guffaws. I grinned up at the incredulous expression on his face and struggled with all my might to keep a sober expression as I quirked an eyebrow at him, reading what written in big swirly letters, right above his crotch.
"Disco Fever? Really?"
He stared down at me, frustration evident in the set of his jaw as I started humming, and then breaking out into the full song and dance, replete with jazz hands.
"Let's have some fun, this ride is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."
"A- Fuck You, Disco is Forever, and B – are you at all capable of taking anything seriously?" He fumed at me, evidently not enjoying my off-tune, off-beat, off-everything rendition of one of the worst pop songs of the decade.
I sighed deeply. "I just…I can't do this right now, I'm going out. I need to pick up some groceries, do either of you want anything?"
"Yeah, Pumpkin, can you pick me up some of the Axe soap that smells like sex and spice? I think it's called Dark Temptation."
I looked at him with a what-the-fuck expression written all over my face, and then shrugged and walked out of the room to grab my purse and my keys.
"See you later, bitches; please don't defile my goddamn kitchen counter again! I have to eat there."
Ok ladies (and gents?), thanks for reading. I hope you'll stay with me on this journey because I think it might be a lot of fun. I'm going to try and post every week, but since I spend my days writing science stuff, writing fiction is a struggle. I am a snarky bitchy individual, but when I put fingers to word processor, it's a struggle not to become clinical and impersonal in my writing… so it takes a while.
If you were confused by how this relates in any way shape or form to the one-shot, you were supposed to be. It might make a bit more sense next chapter
Big news, the one-shot this story was based off (Clean Up in the Produce Aisle) was recc'd by the lovely ladies over at the Jasper's Naughty Girls blog (OMG!) on their Sunday One-Shot Wonder a few weeks ago ( jaspersnaughtygirls (dot) blogspot (dot) com / 2010 / 08 / sunday-one-shot-wonder-recs_21 (dot) html ). I am still so excited about this. It's almost like I'm a real ficster now instead of just a reader.
Almost more exciting, some crazy fool nominated the same oneshot for a Best One-Shot award over at the Hidden Star Awards ( thehiddenstarawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com ). You all should head over there and check out the nominees, voting doesn't open for a few days… so you've got time to check out all the great stories and hopefully find some hidden gems. My homegirl Leelan Oleander has been nommed for her story Encore, which recently finished up. And if we're lucky she'll start posting the sequel soon. It's a great read, and she even managed to make me cry. The only thing that makes me cry usually are Hallmark commercials and dislocating my shoulder (in that order). There are some other GREAT stories up there too, like Dead Confederates and Underneath Your Scars (and a bunch of others I haven't read… yet). I will tell you honestly, I came across a Peter/Bella story (which I normally wouldn't read) called Once Bitten, Twice Shy by lifelesslyndsey on the nominee list, and I am pissing myself laughing while reading it. It's got some great snark and a whole lot of crazy.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy my silliness, and I'll see you again next week