My Northern Salvation

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters therein.

A/N: OK, to all those of you waiting for my other fics, and PARTICULARLY 'I've Never Been Held', sorry. Band Together is complicated right now, but I swear I am working on it, I will not let it go off the boil. This fic would not stop bugging me, though I have a sort of love/hate relationship with it, so I thought I might as well get it out of my system and get a few reviews. My empty inbox is starting to depress me. Plus I'm breaking into a new fandom. Update: I finally got round to putting up the new title! Phew.

Jasper pushed open the door of the diner and stepped through. Everywhere else was crowded with people trying to get out of the rain, but this small and greasy restaurant was mercifully quiet. He glanced around, taking in the ancient wooden beams which were the sole survivors of someone's attempt at modern, hygienic-looking decor. Tasteless lace curtains and laminated table-tops everywhere. The strong, unappetizing odour of human food was enough to distract from the smell of the few customers there, if not to mask it completely. That was a relief. Jasper was thirsty, and there was something about the rain that made humans' smell blossom and grow until it was almost irresistible, but the rank, bolshy smell took away his appetite. He sniffed the air briefly. It was probably unwise to court temptation like that but self-preservation demanded it. Human blood, human sweat, food frying…and then a twist of something that made him freeze where he stood.

Cold and sweet, yet somehow more wholesome than Maria's scent had been, it reminded him a little of pears, or leather. Its crispness made his mouth water in an entirely different way than human blood, even as it set him humming with tension. He sniffed again. The scent was unmistakable: the smell of another vampire.

It was no-one he recognised. At least that meant it was not a definite enemy. Jasper flicked his eyes slowly round the diner, trying to pick his fellow out. Finally his gaze rested on a blond man sitting with his back to the door. It was difficult to tell, with his face and skin hidden…but then he stiffened in his chair, as enhanced senses warned him of Jasper's presence. He was the one, all right.

The blond vampire turned. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and was as beautiful as any of their kind, but Jasper wasn't paying attention to his face, only his eyes. They were not red but a bizarre, unsettling shade of ochre-gold. Perplexed, Jasper edged sideways to look from a different angle, trying not to appear vulnerable or unsure. A man at the table nearest him was throwing him an odd look.

The blond vampire smiled.

Jasper nearly jumped backwards in shock. More disconcerted than ever, he peered forwards at the man, trying to make out more from his expression. He didn't like the way the blond man's smile showed all his teeth, but though he was cautious Jasper couldn't sense any aggression. Not yet, anyway.

As Jasper stared, the blond man jerked his head very slightly, in invitation. Jasper was still floundering at the unexpected turn of events, but at this he squared his shoulders and marched over. It would not do to flee now, or to show any sign of weakness. Putting up a good show of courage was often half the battle, both with humans and with vampires. Some things never changed.

He slid warily into a chair and studied the other man's face. There was a kind of gentleness written into it which stirred something in Jasper, but the strange eyes still frightened him. He reached out with his sixth sense and tasted the other vampire's emotions. There was sorrow there, not fierce grief but a kind of long-residing melancholy, and more of the strange tenderness that marked his face

'Hello,' the vampire said, his voice a clear tenor with a faint English accent. He held out his hand. 'My name is Carlisle Cullen.'

'I am Jasper.' Jasper placed his hand guardedly in Carlisle's, tensing as the vampire's fingers closed around it.

'I'm pleased to meet you, Jasper,' Carlisle said courteously. His face relaxed into what seemed a genuine expression of greeting. Jasper didn't trust it an inch. Carlisle leaned closer and added quietly: 'I have not encountered any of our kind for a long time.'

So he was a vampire, for all his strange eyes and manner. Jasper didn't answer, just sat rigidly in his chair, staring. Tendrils of curiosity were unfurling slowly from Carlisle Cullen now; he was frowning slightly, examining Jasper's face.

'Can I get you anything, Sir?'

Jasper looked up sharply. A waiter had approached and was looking at him expectantly. He now noticed that Carlisle's hands were curled around a cup of black coffee. The blond vampire was certainly very concerned with keeping up a convincing charade.

'No,' he said coldly, leaning forward so that his eyes caught the light. The man flinched at the glint of red and hurried away. He and Carlisle were left alone.

'You seem adept at mingling with humans,' he said stiffly. Carlisle seemed to be the type to make small talk and maintain a polished, urbane facade, and Jasper was beginning to feel rough and graceless by comparison.

'Yes, I am well used to mingling, even interacting,' Carlisle agreed. He paused, and Jasper felt another wave of that inexplicable sadness wash over him. It fit in nicely with his own depression, which had dissipated briefly with the possible need to defend himself from an unknown immortal, but was now creeping in again. He stared numbly at the red-chequered linoleum of the counter as Carlisle sighed a little and continued. 'As I said, I have not had contact with immortals for a while. Any news would be welcome, quite frankly.'

'News.' Jasper chuckled, baring all his teeth. 'The news down South may not be all to your liking, Carlisle, but why not? I could use some company.'

He stood, and Carlisle followed suit, sliding a fifty-cent tip across the counter. Jasper raised his eyebrows incredulously at the money, shrugged and led the way out of the diner.

'So, news,' he said as they walked up the deserted high street. There was a muttering of thunder overhead, and he was struck by the fancy that the Volturi had reached out from their stronghold in Italy to admonish him, daring him to speak ill of them, even in their absence. 'Well, things are fairly peaceful right now. The Volturi cleared the place out not long ago; it's still pretty quiet. I can't tell you much about how territory is distributed at the moment.' Jasper's face darkened for a second. I can't tell you much. It was a simple sentence to convey the betrayal and subterfuge, the turmoil and destruction, that went to create such uncertainty. 'If you're on a visit to a friend, my only advice would be not to expect a warm welcome,' he said bitterly.

'No,' Carlisle murmured. 'No, I'm not visiting a friend.' Jasper felt a spike of annoyance at the vague sadness in his tone. Anybody whose greatest sorrow was a lack of friends had an easy life.

'And you?' Carlisle enquired. 'What of you? Do you claim territory near here? Do you have a mate?'

'I think I have talked enough, Carlisle,' Jasper said mildly. 'Tell me.' His voice grew steely. 'Where do you come from? Who is your mate?' he let his teeth glitter.

'Where do I come from?' Another sigh. 'Well, I am a nomad, for the most part, with no fixed home, though I tend to stick to the North. I came to the New World from Europe, though, how long ago? A century, now? I lose track. Since then I've wandered, lived for a decade here and there, doing nothing of note, really, since I left the Volturi –'

In a split second Jasper had confirmed the street empty and pinned Carlisle to the alley wall. He held him there with one arm pressed into his throat. The blond vampire's feet were barely touching the ground.

'Volturi.' The word came out as a low, guttural snarl. Carlisle lashed out instinctively, but Jasper grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm above his head. He leaned forward, using his elbow and shoulder to pinion the vampire's other arm, then spoke.

'Volturi? Do you know what we call those peace keepers here in the South? Do you know what they have done to us? And now here you come, their associate, asking questions about my mate and my territory. What are you, some kind of spy?' He pressed harder against Carlisle's windpipe, though it was technically impossible to strangle the other vampire to death. When Carlisle spoke, his voice was very low, and hoarse from lack of air.

'I mean you no harm, Jasper.'

He could sense the perfect sincerity of the words. Too perfect. There was no aggression in Carlisle, despite his predicament. Jasper was confused, but he pushed the emotion away, letting disgust take its place.

'You mean me no harm,' he repeated with weary derision, loosening his hold a little so that Carlisle could breath. 'You Northerners are all the same.'

'Actually I am from England.'

Jasper snorted.

'The English are even worse. Isolated on their rainy little island where they can come out in the daytime and it never gets too crowded. It's easy for you to speak of peace.' He stepped away from the wall and Carlisle fell forward onto his knees.

'Those boasting the friendship of the Volturi will not find much hospitality here, Carlisle Cullen,' Jasper said quietly, looking down at him. 'It's a lesson you would do well to learn quickly.'

Without waiting for a response he turned, speeding up to blur out of the ally, leaving the strange, passive vampire behind him.

wofhuntsmoon: I was tempted to give Carlise a 'light English tenor' at the point where you told me to describe his voice when he was greeting Jasper. XD