this hostage stuff is fun

The cab driver looks nervous as he pulls up to the small side street, his eyes glancing back at the pair in his backseat with an almost panic. Alice can feel Jasper calm the man and she's grateful for that--not wanting to have to explain to this random man that yes they do want to get out here.

"Careful, ma'am," the man still manages to get out as she opens her door a crack. "This is a strange part of the city--"

"I know," Alice beams, giving the man a dazzling smile that sends his heart quickening. Jasper sighs beside her, opening his own door and moving to the trunk, tapping it to bring attention to their bags locked inside and not his wife dazzling their driver. "Have a good day, sir."

Alice slips him a tip--a nice, crisp one hundred dollar bill--and one more smile before she steps out, coming to meet Jasper at the sidewalk to take the smaller suitcase from him and slipped her gloved hand into his.

They chose the perfect day to fly in--cloudy and cool, easy to hide their true nature. Before them is the decrepit gateway to the cobblestone side street that her friends live on. She squeezes Jasper's hand and leads him down the walkway, past the storefronts and sideshows that have somehow managed to survive after all these years.

"That's where I got my tarot cards read for the first time," Alice laughs, pointing at one shop. "And bought my first set. Delly hated the woman who owned it. I wonder who owns it now..."

They make a slight turn and before them is the great, two story house, pillars rising from porch to roof, ivy overgrown on the walls, the walkways. The door, open, and a dark-skinned woman leaning on the jamb. "Took you long enough, shè. What, did you walk?"

Then, a squeal sounds from the upstairs window, drawing their attention, and a long-haired blonde, with a sweet face, pokes her head out from behind the curtains. "Alice! Finally!"

It’s early still, the sun just rising over the horizon, when Alice opens the curtains and sighs. The sun is bright already, the sky cloudless. It’ll be an inside day today. She can’t see the weather clouding back up until tomorrow.

A pity—she wanted to grab some new shoes before she left Philly. She’ll just stop before they leave tomorrow.

Alice lets the curtain fall shut again, blanketing the room in the darkness except for the warm lamp on the bedside table. Adjusting her slip, she pads back over to the bed in all of its rumpled, slightly broken glory. Jasper’s there, stretched out under the sheet, his arm thrown over his eyes as he lays there, a picturesque parody of sleeping.

Squeezing his calf as she kneels on the bed beside him, Alice sighs dramatically. “We can’t leave the hotel today. Too sunny. What should we do instead?”

She’s already got a handful of ideas—most of them inappropriate for polite company.

She'd taken her husband's packing advice, leaving most of her clothes at home, for once. She'd packed two or three outfits and a suitcase of underwear.

So when she'd wanted to sit in the open window, her feet hanging out over the edge, she stole Jasper's sweater. It's more like a dress on her, reaching down to her knees and covering her hands with long sleeves, but it's comfortable and smells like him.

Besides, what if some random hiker wandered through the picturesque area and saw a half-naked girl in the window? That simply wouldn't do.

Alice is watching the birds flit and fly around in the early morning dew. It's chilly, if she could notice it, but the ground is soft, making it easy hunting grounds for the cardinals, robins and crows that hop around near the lake. They're peaceful, a kindred sort of spirit, even if her presence, if noticed, would scare them away more than a human's would.

She's always found birds to be fascinating. Tiny, hollow-boned and frail looking but resilient. She knows the feeling.

Glancing over her shoulder, she watches Jasper turn a page in the book he reads, naked on the bed with the covers piled around him, like he's in a giant nest. The wood has splintered on the bed's frame--a casualty from their first half hour in the cabin. They'll compensate the owners well enough. Probably after it's destroyed more.

A songbird's whistle catches her attention, her gaze returning to the birds on the yard. A lone yellow bird has joined the fray, hopping on its little feet to catch a worm trying to wriggle away.

Alice was in her element.

The lights, the music, the glamour and glitz of Las Vegas' most exclusive casinos--this is where Alice and her gifts thrived. She had her hair curled and pinned, her makeup perfect, nails painted; her dress stopped just below the knee, a silvery-green color that draped at the waist and was cinched by a belt. Her shoulders were left bare, her neck decorated by sparkling diamonds that matched the ones at her ears.

She steps out of the car with the help of the valet, accepting the man's hand with her own. Turning, she intercepts Jasper as he comes around the side of the car, blinking at the pomp and circumstance of a casino in the late 40's.

They'd hunted extra this week, just before arriving in Nevada, to make sure he'd be okay for this night. His eyes are completely gold now--she's so proud of the progress he's made. And she's very proud of how handsome he looks tonight. His curls swept out of his face, his suit fitting perfectly. He turns his wrist, fixing the watch on his arm, and looks every bit at ease in that moment.

And Alice falls in love all over again.

She steps to his side, fixing his tie before looping her arm through his. "I hope you're ready to win big tonight, Mr. Whitlock." She nods at the bellhop who lifts their suitcases onto a cart and hands her a room key. Alice slips it into Jasper's inside pocket in his jacket with a smile. "I'm your lucky charm."

Six months.

How had six months passed in no time and all and yet, it felt like an eternity? Alice was the happiest she'd been in her twenty-eight years as a vampire and the rest of their lives together were just over the horizon. She snorts at herself as she looks out the window of the car, feeling silly for thinking like a romance novel heroine.

But it was true.

The coast blurs past her gaze as they go over the bridge connecting the small island to the mainland of the state. There's a forest here, Acadia, that she's wanting to bring Jasper to. It's supposed to be beautiful, the night sky unrivaled. It's evening now, the sun setting in the distance, the perfect time to spend here.

"Oh," she whispers, pressing her face against the window as they hit the town. Lights, a Ferris Wheel, and fun breaks in the distance. "Oh, Jasper, a fair, we have to go!"

"You're spendin' a lot of time with him," Jasper says quietly, when Alice enters the room. He's got a book in his lap and he's sitting in an armchair near the window, watching the rain beat on down the glass.

Alice tilts her head, taking him in, waiting for him to look at her, and when he does she steps forward into his space. "I am."

"You love him," he murmurs. A statement, not a question. Alice is struck, once again, with annoyance bordering on hatred for the woman who turned him. Who told him, showed him, that everyone is replaceable.

She sits on his knee and he sighs, automatically setting the book aside to tug her into his lap, to make room for her. Her hand strokes through his hair and comes to rest on his neck. "I also love Esme and Carlisle."

"'s different--"

"When you feel the love," she interrupts, her thumb soothing over his chin. "Does it feel the same way when I say that I love you?"

His lips press together in a flat line. "No but--"

"No buts," she whispers, leaning in closer to press her lips against his. "I do love him, Jasper, but never in the way I love you."

Jasper kisses her back, but she knows he's holding something to himself, the way his fingers pick at her dress, his hand's hesitance at the back of her neck. She pulls away, holding his face to force him to look at her. Sighing, Jasper rolls his eyes toward the window and then: "He can be there for you in ways I can't."

She thinks about placating him and decides that's unfair. It might hurt now to be brash and fully honest, but it'd hurt him more in the long run to coddle him. "Yes," she agrees, nodding her head and getting in the way of his gaze again. His fingers spasm at her leg but he meets her eyes. "He can. He can see in my head, and I can see his future and we can talk in a way that I can't with anyone else but...you do too.

"You and I know how to talk in a way I can't with anyone else too," she whispers, pressing her forehead against his. "You know me better than I know myself sometimes. You know my emotions before I do. You helped make my powers grow, letting me see more--"

"You don't know that," Jasper protests and she clamps her hand down over his mouth with a shushing noise.

"Stop interruptin' me," Alice frowns. "I'm trying to tell you all the ways you're special to me, and you just wanna interrupt--hey!"

Her hand flies back when he nips at her fingers, and suddenly he's there, right there in her face, his lips against hers, quicker than she could have predicted. It makes a soft noise leave her, her fingers flying to his shoulders to hold on when he stands with her in his arms.

Alice pulls back, just a breath away, as he settles them onto the bed, holding his face so he can't move. "She was wrong," she whispers, fiercely. "Maria was wrong. You are irreplaceable. Do you understand me?"

Jasper's gaze flits over her face before finally looking her in the eye again, his lips twisted with an emotion she can't quite put a name to. Sadness, kind of, but something deeper. He nods, darting in to kiss her again. "Okay."

"I love you. More than anything in this world, Jasper. Or anyone."

He takes her hand off his face and presses a kiss to her palm, nodding against it. "I love you, too."

The last year together had been nothing but perfect. They'd traveled up and down parts of the Eastern Seaboard, visiting every place they could think of and more. Book stores for Jasper (and Alice too, she could never resist the exciting prospect of new knowledge and the smell of a book) and every boutique possible for Alice.

Hotels, casinos, beaches, everywhere.

Jasper laughs, freely, in her company, and it warms her from head to toe.

They hit the border of West Virginia and the Commonwealth, almost a year to the day since they'd spent that wonderful day in the Shenandoah National Park. Somewhere outside of Richmond, Virginia, Alice caught a vision not quite fully formed until Jasper ducked his head in a nod at it: his friends, from his escape from the South, looking for him; a town sign that bore the name Princeton.

They pass that sign now, continuing on through the town and into the woods. A park is being built out in the woods, that won't be done for another year or so, but that doesn't matter now. It's dusk, the workers home with their families, and no one will notice the light blue Lincoln Continental pulling off to a dirt road, being left behind for the time being.

Alice steps out of the car when Jasper parks, stretching and smoothing down her dress, checking her lipstick in the car's window; nervous flitterings that betray her feelings at meeting Jasper's friends. What if they don't like her? What if he has the sudden realization that Alice is wrong for him--something, she chides herself, that is unlikely. But, like a nervous sparrow, still, she studies herself in the window, carefully making sure each curl is in place and that not a wrinkle appears in her pressed dress.

"So," she starts, wincing slightly at the higher pitch her voice has taken in its nervousness, "Peter and Charlotte, right?"

After Jasper leaves, Alice sits still for a long, long moment, her fingers fiddling with the rip in her dress, her eyes unfocused and blank. She feels strange. Cold, empty, now that Jasper is gone. With him there, even with the horrible truths he told her, her love for him covered them like a blanket.

And now, she's alone.

Well, not entirely. She can see that Edward is returning with the rest of the family, that once Jasper meets them on the edge of their property, the group will split--Emmett and Jasper will go hunting, the rest will come inside and split off more. Bella to the room she shares with Edward, Carlisle and Esme to his office, Rosalie to the garage and Edward--

He'll meet her in the closet. She hates to pull him away from his wife, but is eternally grateful that he knows when she needs him. He's told the family things are okay, reassured Esme and Carlisle that their newest home isn't in ruins. Everyone will be in a relatively good mood.

Hunting will be good for Jasper. He'll return a little lighter, in step and eye color.




Sighing, Alice pushes herself up off the bed, peeling her dress off as she walks and tossing it into the trash. Her rip through the skirt is jagged and off-seam, not easily fixed. She doesn't want to fix it anyway, not now. She rifles through her clothes, passing over other dresses for more comfortable things, as if that matters. Soft pants and a tee, somber and soft. Slipping them on, she pads out of the room, her feet bare, her red-bow-shoes left on the floor near the bed, where she and Jasper placed them.

Entering the Freak's Only Closet (there's a little sign hanging on a nail in the door, in her perfect cursive and silly caricatures of her and Edward's faces), she shuts the door behind her and crawls onto the couch in the corner of the room, curled in a ball, waiting.

Getting to where Edward and Bella ended up took annoyingly longer than she would have preferred.

She had to abandon the car, pulling her scarf further over her head, making sure her gloves were on properly before she could exit the car. The sun was blinding, and not for the first time, Alice wrinkles her nose in distaste at the place the Volturi chose for their home.

Then again, they were turned in Greece, once upon a time. The sun may remind them of home. Still--to never get to go outside, just because they owned this dumb city? Whatever.

It's different, this visit, though no less stressful and hectic. She weaves through festival-goers in their red cloaks, ducking under hands raising tribute to their so-called Saint Marcus. At least when she was here last, they entered inside the complex, away from prying eyes that might see something they shouldn't. Still, the same icy-fear that gripped her then, grips her now as she tries to keep one eye on the future and the other on the world in front of her.

She hears them long before she sees them--down an alley, in the darkness. She sees Edward turn his head, toward her, as she quickly steps down the narrow alleyway, tugging her sunglasses and scarf off as she moves.

Aro will be disappointed.

I'm sure he'll survive the letdown.

When she rounds the corner, Edward is looking at her, like she knew he would be. He's a beacon of light in the darkness of this alley, her heart swelling to see him alive, and breaking to see how tired, how broken he looks. With a confidence she doesn't quite feel, she smiles sweetly at the Volturi. "Let's be pleasant, shall we? There are ladies present."

She steps to Edward's side, her place in all of this, her arms swinging back and forth in a child-like fashion, forcing herself to look relaxed and carefree, as if none of this is bothering her. As if none of their last visit is running through her mind.

A quick glance up at Edward, her thoughts jumbled with emotion she'll sort out later: Hi, you. Love, anger, terror, it all flits around in her brain like bees in a jar, but no, focus, Alice. Focus.

"We aren't alone," she reminds Demetri and Felix as they straighten at her arrival, looking frustrated and annoyed at Edward having another on his side. Alice tilts her head toward the entrance of the alley, the family standing there, and how they reach for a guard.

Demetri grimaces, turning his attention back to Edward. "Please, let's be reasonable."

The house is quiet.

Emmett, Jasper and Rosalie left in the morning to go hunting. Esme's out shopping for new window dressing and Edward is out somewhere with Bella.

Alice lays on her bed, her head hanging off the mattress as she flips through a magazine before sighing and tossing the book on the floor and rolling over and up in a fluid motion to stand on the floor. She puts her hands on her waist, looks around and sighs.

She's bored. She should've gone with Jasper or Esme.





Downstairs, Carlisle is typing something on his computer, something for work, probably. Maybe she can bother him. In a flash, she's downstairs, her fingers tapping lightly on his door. "Papa, tu es très occupé?"