Disclaimer: All you recognize belongs to Stephenie Meyer - but if she's seeking a good home for both Jasper and Jacob, mine's definitely available ... anytime !

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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie ...

Jasper's pov:

Present

It's funny how calm I feel now that I've fed. How such a simple, yet vital act is able to soothe me. Now that my raging hunger's finally sated and my anger has disappeared, I'm able to act more rationally. When I'm ravenous, I've been accused of being volatile, impatient and extremely possessive and I freely admit I'm never at my best when I'm half-starved. As my poor Jake found out to his cost earlier this evening.

In hindsight, I was wrong to treat him the way I did. To lose my temper with him over something so trivial. Something so stupid. And the worst thing ... ? I can't even remember what we were arguing about. It was our first fight and I regret it more than anything. I honestly didn't mean to cause him any pain and I hate myself for it. What hurts him wounds me to the quick and when my gorgeous wolf suffers, I feel his pain and anguish as if it were my own ...

I never expected to fall so deeply in love. That I could feel such intense, overwhelming passion for someone. But I did. I fell head over heels for Jacob. Lost my heart to him completely. The moment I first laid eyes on him, I realized I'd found my mate and that I'd never look at, want or need anyone else.

There was an instant connection between us. A spark. Call it what you will: chemistry ... animal attraction ... imprinting ... Whatever it was, it was definitely there and we were both in its thrall. All I knew was that we belonged together. Jake may have imprinted on me and in effect, I was his master. But he now owns me. I'm his. Heart. Body. And soul ...

The way I feel about him terrifies me. Yet ... yet it also leaves me exhilarated. And so alive. I was twenty when I was turned and in my one hundred and forty four years as a vampire, this is the happiest and most contented I've ever been. And I owe it all to Jake. No one else has ever had this effect on me. Had the capacity to make me feel so warm and to care for another's wellbeing so intensely. To love willingly and wholeheartedly. I truly adore my brave Quileute warrior ... The love I have for my wolf far exceeds what I feel for my family and should anything happen to him then ... then I would surely break. I wouldn't want to exist without him ... There'd be no point in carrying on if I lost him.

Whether he's aware of it or not, Jake is my world. He is my all. My everything ...

FLASHBACK

I don't know who or what triggered the row. It started off as something lighthearted and frivolous but gradually snowballed into something darker. More serious. Both of us were convinced we were right and wouldn't back down. Because I hadn't fed for a few days, I was already on a short fuse and my sense of humour had gone A.W.O.L. I'm not proud of what I did. How I behaved. I said some really harsh, cruel things that I immediately regretted as soon as they passed my lips. Words which left him shocked and distraught. Shame consumed me as the colour swiftly drained from Jacob's face and his stunning, dark eyes misted over with unshed tears.

In an attempt to offer solace, I reached across to gently caress his cheek. To my dismay, he abruptly recoiled from me.

"Don't touch me, you fucking, stinking leech !" he snarled, his tall, powerful frame trembling with tension. "Lay a finger on me and so help me, it'll be the last thing you ever do. I want you to go- "

"Jake, I'm so sor- " I began cautiously, trying to close the gap between us so that I could at least attempt to calm him down. I could tell by the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fists that he was struggling desperately not to phase. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to rip my throat out. And I could hardly blame him for it. Not after my callous words and the way I'd treated him. The one person I'd professed to love with my whole being.

"I mean it ... And don't even think of trying that empathy shit on me either. I said leave ! Get the fuck out of here ... I don't want you around, bloodsucker ..." Jake yelled, his handsome face dark with rage. He glared at me scathingly through wounded, stricken eyes. "I won't say it again, just ... just go before I do something we'll both fucking regret !"

Jacob's emotions were all over the place. Rage, disappointment, pain, distress, confusion, desire, need and love all came into conflict within him. Vying for dominance. For control. In the end, anger won.

The fact that I hadn't left and was still standing in the middle of his bedroom, seemed to incense him further. I'd bowed my head and closed my eyes in genuine remorse, wincing as I felt Jacob's emotions course like wildfire through his body.

"Why are you still here ? What part of "I don't want you around" didn't you understand, huh ?" Seething, he began to roughly push me away, closer to the bedroom window. I slowly opened my eyes to watch him and made no attempt to push him back.

"Jake- "

Jacob swore softly under his breath, his chocolate eyes blazed with frustration and anger. Then, without warning, he drew back his right fist and struck me. Hard. There was a sharp crack of bone breaking.

"Aaagh ! Fuck !" Jacob muttered. He immediately cradled his injured and by now, badly bruised fist close to his broad chest.

My head recoiled at the impact of the blow and I raised the back of my hand tentatively to my lower lip. To my astonishment and disbelief, it was bleeding. I never dreamt that Jake would ever hit me. That my sweet, gentle Quileute was capable of such violence towards his imprint.

"Why ... ? Why won't you go ... ?" he whispered hoarsely. This was the most broken I'd seen him since we'd first met at the lake and the knowledge that I was to blame for it, had guilt gnawing at me like a dog with a bone. "Please ..."

I sat astride the window sill, drinking in the sight of him. Jacob's beauty never failed to astound me. Whether grimly determined, consumed by anger, deep in concentration, laughing joyfully or lost in the throes of passion as we made love then lying sated, blissfully happy and fast asleep in my arms, my Jake was the most gorgeous sight I'd been privileged to see.

There are some things in life which can't be denied. Death and taxes being the obvious ones. And the fact that I will never tire of Jacob or grow weary of looking at him. But seeing him avert his gaze and refuse to meet mine, hurt immensely. It felt like rejection. A dismissal. And between the craving I felt to feed and the inexplicable need to heed - no matter how badly I wanted to ignore it - Jake's wish to be left alone, I took the only option left to me. I silently ducked out of the window and leapt the two-storey drop to the ground, leaving the reservation and La Push in my wake ...

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Present

There's nothing quite like the sensation of biting into the jugular of a living creature. Having your fangs sink deeply in just the right spot. Taking the time to savour the first few hot, crimson drops of the oh-so precious substance that sustains you, until you fall a willing victim to the bloodlust and the urge to drain your prey dry. When the only thing you are aware of is the sweetness or spiciness of the aroma or its addictive, hypnotic taste. Its vintage, if you like ...

I've always found the comparison between blood and wine to be uncanny. How the blood of different species can be compared to certain wines. How bear reminds me of a full-bodied burgundy; cougar a rich claret and deer of a crisp, white wine ... But best of all, like the finest champagne, is human blood. Sparkling. Exquisite. Pure. Full of vitality ... The finest vintage, and the one I find myself continuously fighting on a daily basis not to succumb to and freely partake of, due to the treaty.

Anyway, I digress. Nothing compares to the taste of blood. The feel of it. Its taste and its heat. But now, I'm calm. Sated and content. Replete. The two dead carcases - a large deer and a cougar - lie at my feet. Drained of life. Of their blood. My hunger has vanished and the menacing black has faded from my eyes and they revert back to their true colour - gold. Yet with my newfound serenity and calm comes rationality and the overwhelming need to return to my mate. The compulsion to make amends. To comfort and to love him ...

Before I know it, I'm back at the reservation. Outside his small, yet comfortable home. Staring longingly at his bedroom window. Full of anticipation and yearning to see my lover. Yet I can't help feeling apprehensive. I don't know what kind of welcome I'll receive from my spirited Quileute. Whether my impulsive, fiery, young warrior will greet me with open arms or stake me on sight, before ripping my head clean off my shoulders. Despite all of my doubts and anxieties, I find myself sitting astride his window ledge, watching him intently. The room is shrouded in darkness, yet I'm able to make out every piece of furniture Jake owns, thanks to the full moon.

He lies asleep, curled up in a foetal position, strong arms cradling a pillow to his abdomen, facing the window. The quilted comforter barely skimming his lean hips. His smooth, heated, russet skin gleams dimly in the moonlight, covering sleek, powerful sinew. Even as he sleeps fitfully, my Jake is sheer perfection. He's my own personal Adonis. God-like in his beauty. Breathtakingly and heartstoppingly so. I may have ceased to draw breath and my heart has long since stopped beating, but Jacob's nothing short of a masterpiece to look at. A work of art.

The good thing about being a vampire is that all your senses are heightened. Magnified tenfold. I'm acutely aware of the gentle throbbing of Jake's steady heartbeat and how his breath sometimes hitches as he sleeps. Of his soft, involuntary moans and groans ...

Despite the dark, I can see him clearly. Wispy tendrils of long, thick, silky, blue-black hair cling damply to his handsome face. How he frowns, his brow lightly furrows and his luscious, kissable lips pout anxiously as he dreams fretfully. A slight sheen of perspiration cloaks his lithe body. Jacob writhes uncomfortably. The comforter tangles around his lower body, sliding further revealing the expanse of smooth, bare chest, rock-hard abs, slim hips and the gentle curve of his taut, gorgeous ass. God ! How I love that ass and his stunning, toned physique. I love its strength, power and vitality. Its warmth. The way his body makes me feel when he wraps himself possessively around me or when I'm buried deep within him and we're both consumed with pleasure and desire.

Even from my vantage point, I can't fail to notice the tear stains on Jake's face or smell the tang of salty tears in the air. And it tears me up inside. That I was the cause of his anguish. Lost in self-recrimination and full of guilt, all I wanted was to pull him into my arms and comfort him. He whimpered and shifted slightly, further dislodging the comforter and exposing even more temptation. I groaned softly, unable to take my eyes off him.

"Jazz ..." he breathed, his voice rough with tears. Still asleep, Jake hung onto the pillow like grim death. Catching a scent in the air, I then realized that it was my pillow he held tightly in his arms. "Oh, Jazz ..." The intense yearning in his sleepy voice was like music to my ears. He moaned softly then mumbled, "I didn't mean what I said ... I swear ... Didn't want you to go. Love you, Jasp- "

It was all I longed, wanted and needed to hear. I stripped my clothes in silent and indecent haste, leaving my red, black, grey and white plaid hoodie, black wifebeater and black jeans in a messy pile on top of my Converse trainers. I slid into the double bed, curled my pale, lean, sinewy, scarred frame around Jake, spooning him, my right arm wrapped possessively around his waist. He froze, just for a brief moment, as he felt my cold body wrap around him, then realizing it was me, swiftly relaxed before grabbing my arm to pull me closer. We lay, our bodies pressed flush together, it was hard to know where Jake ended and I began. And just to torment me, the damned wolf wriggled his ass deliberately against my aching, hard arousal, grinding and pushing tantalizingly against me. I bit my lip to prevent a low, needy moan from escaping and felt my fangs break through the skin. I tasted blood. It slowly trickled towards my chin.

Smiling, I swept his raven mane away from his neck and gently nuzzled his throat, taking care not to bite and break his skin. Half-awake, he sighed contentedly and slowly turned his head to brush his lips tenderly against mine in a sleepy kiss, before nestling back in my embrace.

"I'm sorry, Jazz ... Never meant any of what I said. I'm a stupid, fucking bastard and I didn't mean to hurt you ... Missed you so much, babe ... Promise me, no matter what I say or do to push you away, that you'll never leave me again ... Couldn't bear it if I lost you. I love you too much ... Swear, Jasper ... Promise me, you'll stay no matter what. The thought of being without you just fucking kills me ..."

I smiled. Idly, I caressed his six-pack and took delight when he trembled with pleasure at my touch. Then I whispered huskily, "Not a hope in hell of that ever happening, darlin' ... There's no way I'm ever leaving you again. The only way you'll be rid of me, is if- "

"Don't say it !" he growled a warning, grabbing my wrist in a firm, yet gentle hold. "Just don't, Jazz. It hurts too much to think of i- "

"Shhh ... Just making a point that you're stuck with me for good, mutt, 's all. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. Now, go to sleep. Get some rest. I'm going nowhere ... I'll be right here, lover, when you wake. Promise ..." I gently tilted up his chin and gazed deeply into his drowsy, anxious, chocolate eyes before kissing him sweetly on the lips. I felt him sigh happily before succumbing to weariness.

And me ? Like I told Jake, I was exactly where I wanted to be. With the one I loved and desired. Relieved and delighted to have my fiesty, adorable, young lover in my embrace. Perfectly content to remain where I was ... and to let my sleeping dog lie safely, protected and deeply loved, in my arms ...

Finis