A/N: this is unbetaed. Please know that the state of grammar and punctuation bears no relation to how much I care about all of you.

o o o

Bella

I wake up and everything is golden.

Early morning sunshine streams in through the open window, the cool breeze bringing goosebumps to my arms.

I hear the sound of the waves calling, calling me to the ocean and a delicious anticipation makes my legs tingle and stretch.

I turn around and lean into tan skin, breathe in the smell of sleep, of a late night, of a long week in court. Underneath it all, the scent of him, secret and precious; mine only.

I flatten my body against his, run my hands over his muscular shoulders, my fingers tracing the freckles on his back.

His breathing changes slightly, his body acknowledging me even as he can't rouse himself from slumber; he turns his head towards me, his eyes fluttering but staying resolutely closed.

"I'm going for a swim," I whisper in his ear, then kiss his jaw lightly, the stubble rough again my lips. His mouth moves imperceptibly, perhaps he's trying to speak, or maybe just smile. Still, he doesn't wake.

"I love you," I say against his neck, and all I get in response is a shiver. His body knows what his mind cannot fully process.

I get out of bed silently. On my way to the bathroom I run my hand over the light blue silk tie he wore yesterday—my favorite—now lying discarded on a chair next to his crumpled white shirt.

I look back at him, long legs tangled in the white bedsheets, and for a moment I am drawn back to the bed, his naked body calling to me like always: like the first time, when I didn't even know what want was, and I already wanted him; like yesterday, when he climbed into bed at one a.m., laughing and kissing and waking me up with his hard, hard want that couldn't wait; like every day in between, because when it comes to him, I can't not want, I can't not take.

But the pull of the ocean this morning is too strong, and it is a need I can't, won't ignore.

Outside, the air is fragrant with early summer promise, the concrete still cool under my flip-flops as I walk the three blocks to the beach.

I breathe in deeply and hit the water.

o o o

Jasper

The stillness wakes me up. The absence of her, the empty bed, and a faint memory of her body on mine, of her lips on my face, of words barely whispered in my ear and against my skin.

My head hurts and my eyes are heavy with exhaustion; I hug her pillow, seeking sleep, trying to lull myself back into the rest my body so desperately craves.

But I crave her more. I want every moment of this day to be for her, every second of this Saturday to be with her.

Images flash behind my eyes, reminding me how I sank into her last night, buried myself in her scent and her warmth, held her and made love to her clumsily, pure need, pure instinct, no words, barely awake. Our bodies found their rhythm, like they always do, our peace. It is enough to make me ache for her all over again.

I let the shower revive me, cursing the drinks I let the guys talk me into, but how to say no, how to live down the adrenaline, how to walk away. I never knew it could be possible to put so much heart and passion and energy into work. I never thought I could love my job.

They say, the older guys, that it's because I'm young and idealistic; that I still believe in the "system", in making a difference.

They don't know that I have never felt young and that I've never been an idealist.

They say the shit will start to stick, sooner or later, that I'll long for soulless, greedy corporate work, for the shiny downtown offices and the multiple-zeros pay checks. They say I won't last.

Maybe.

Their words wash away without leaving a trace. Whatever it is, whatever the future holds— the present feels so right. I am where I need to be.

o o o

Bella

I swim for a long time, slowly, stroke after stroke into the open sea.

This thing I've come to love and long for, open water swimming, is not about speed, nothing to do with competition. Instead, it's about focus, resistance, being aware of your surroundings and your body at all times.

This is pure pleasure, a joy that is only mine.

Swimming, which only a few years ago felt like a prison sentence, then like a prize painfully denied, is where I've found my freedom.

o o o

Jasper

I grab two large coffees at the corner deli and head to the beach.

I spot her towel and I sit down on the sand, scouting the water for her yellow cap, a hint of tension like every time I know she's out there, a knot of apprehension that dissolves the moment I catch sight of her. I relax instantly and allow myself the luxury of watching her swim. She's strong and steady, powerful and unhurried. Everything about her, even from a distance, tells of her unique, quiet grace, of the way she fits seamlessly into her reality, comfortable in her skin, open to the world.

I hadn't counted on that, on her steering me, grounding me. In Forks, I had mistaken her quiet beauty for shyness, her self-containment for hesitation; and I had thought, at first, it had been just her youth, her freshness, the pure, open heart she offered so generously that had bound me to her so quickly and so fast.

I had thought that wouldn't last, that the spell would fade in time.

I know differently now. Bella is a rock, strong, resilient, capable of a confidence that keeps her and those around her from floundering.

She's my center of gravity.

It took one, searing moment to make me see the truth I'd only intuited.

It was a moment that could have undone me, brought me to my knees, unhinged me. It was Maria, appearing out of nowhere in a busy downtown restaurant, too far to see me, close enough to fill me with an almost blind rage, a thirst for answers, a dark, forgotten desire. A few seconds that lasted an eternity, and I was sure I was lost.

Then her hand in mine, a sudden contact, warm and strong. And her lips, brushing gently across my ear, whispering in the noisy room.

"Jasper… come back."

I jolted. Did she know? How could she? I turned to look at her and she smiled.

"Are you okay?"

She brushed her hand gently across my chest, bringing her body flush with mine as she did. Everything else was forgotten. Nothing else mattered. A peace so complete as to be almost mystical descended upon me

I buried my hands in her hair and kissed her deeply, not caring for our surroundings, ignoring the crowd. I dragged her out of the restaurant without looking back, not bothering to check whether my vision had been real or imagined.

"Move here. Come live with me," I begged her when we got to my place. "This is not enough anymore. Weekends, visits, phone calls... not enough." I undressed her roughly, roamed her body with feverish hands. "I can't be without you. I need you. I love you."

o o o

Bella

Could this be it?

I wonder this often, so I am not surprised when the thought finds me.

My body moves to the beat of a well-practiced rhythm, stroke after stroke, breath after breath, and my mind finds the familiar place of questioning, a disbelief tinted with fear: can this, really, be it?

Most people spend their whole life looking for love, and many never even find it. Every single book and song and painting tells me that love hurts, that it betrays, that it's so easily lost. My family came apart because my parents couldn't keep it alive.

And yet... falling in love with Jasper was as natural as sliding into the cool, crystalline waters of an unspoilt lake. He was there all along, the love for him a bud nestled deep inside me just waiting to blossom. He touched me, he looked at me, he smiled and I came alive. I opened my heart to him and he filled it perfectly, like it was always meant to be his.

Can it really be this easy? Can we be the ones to prove everyone else, everything else wrong? Can we be the ones? And if not us, who?

o o o

Jasper

She's swimming back to shore now. Every stroke brings her closer to me, and I anticipate the moment she'll step out of the water and see me. I love that moment most of all, and I don't know whether it's because it's such a cliche- the beautiful nymph, the Bond-girl pose- or whether it's something more fundamental, more primal: a desire to claim her, a profound jealousy for this other great love of hers, the ocean, this need she has to swim away from me almost every day.

o o o

Bella

I see him almost immediately. He's sitting halfway up the beach, his arms resting lazily on his knees, his hair wild and ruffled by the wind. His mouth lifts in a half smile and he grabs the towel and waves it at me. Then he opens it in front of him in an inviting gesture, calling me to sink into it, and I walk fast towards him, almost running.

I lean down to kiss his lips, raining salt water all over him. He laughs and captures me in the towel, wrapping me up tight and pulling me me down to sit between his legs.

"Hello," he whispers in my wet hair. His voice is rough, scratchy with lack of use. Today's first words are for me.

"Hey," I answer back and turn my head to kiss him again. "Where's that coffee I taste?"

He raises a large paper cup and I grab it eagerly, even though it's almost completely cold by now.

"Nice swim?," he asks, and he squeezes me a bit tighter.

"The best," I answer, and I relax against his chest.

We stay like this, in silence, his arms around me and his chin on my shoulder. The sun is much stronger now, and I close my eyes, letting the warmth and the sounds of the waves lull me into a state of deep relaxation.

"Are you ready to go home?," he asks after a while, a minute or twenty, I cannot tell.

I nod. I stand up and extend my hand towards him, pulling him up; he stumbles to his feet, and I tease him for still being drunk. He smiles lazily, not bothering with a retort, and pulls me into a hug that almost lifts me off the ground.

I laugh, and he kisses me so hard it almost takes my breath away.

We walk home hand in hand and I think... I think this is it.

o o o

A/N: so this is it. I have an abhorrence of all things unfinished and really wanted to leave you with a glimpse of what Bella and Jasper's future could be like. It's just a hint, really, because Unscripted was the story of how they began. I confide their future to you, my dear readers, I'm sure you'll keep it alive in your minds and hearts.

Thank you to all of you who have been with me from the beginning. Thank you to those who've joined later in the journey. Thank you for letting me know you were out there, for pointing out the episodes or passages that meant something to you. Thank you for your constructive advice and encouragement as I attempted to learn how to write! If you have reached this far, please consider leaving a little review to let me know what you thought.

A special thanks to Plummy, truly one of the most talented, sharp, generous and graceful people I've ever met, without whom I would have never started let alone finished; and to Happymelt for forcing me to write better.