The aftermath of Maria's visit.

If someone had told him, that after she had come like he had always known she would, that he would be smirkin' like a cat in cream, he'd have laughed in their face. Turns out though, they would have been right.

They'd have to move now, of course. And they'd been running damage control for 36 hours straight. But still.

The door creaked and the soft, sweet energy of Esme warmed him, and he smiled even wider.

"Someone's in a good mood," she sounded more than a little relieved. She looped her arm around his, which rested on the porch railing and leant in close.

"I'm as surprised as you are, Ms Esme."

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

"You are."

She laughed, small and sweet, and pressed her face into his neck. Ever since that first day, when she'd slowly, gently, carefully touched his nape she'd built up his tolerance to this kind of touch. Other than Alice, Esme was one of the few he could tolerate doing it even now.

"Sweetie?" She asked, the same reticence she'd stepped out with returning.

"Ms Esme?"

An unnecessary sigh tickled the side of his neck and slipped down the collar of his shirt. "She's a horrible, vile, viper of a woman."

At that he couldn't help but chuckle. "She ain't nothin' like you, that's for sure."

Esme's hands both came down to clasp one of his. It was his imagination, he knew that rationally, but he always felt like Esme's hands were just that little bit warmer than other vampires'. He let her trace his knuckles as she worked up the courage to ask what she was trying to ask.

"How could you stand it? With her."

He gave her hands a squeeze. "She…she wasn't exactly the only thing wrong with that whole…environment, Esme. I don't think it would have made a difference who I was subordinate to. Well - maybe Rene, but otherwise…"

She'd perked up at that. "Rene? Who's Rene?"

If vampire memories ever did fade with age, he was sure even then he would never forget Rene. "He was the leader in New Orleans. Still is, last I heard. Don't get me wrong, Esme, he wasn't a good man. He wasn't kind, or merciful. He was as ruthless a killer as the rest of us. But, I don't know… he was always fair to me."

Like any mother, he suspected Esme could sense his need to speak. She kept patient, silent and supportive as he collected his thoughts. "There were so, so many down there that, couldn't even look at me, you know? They would part for me when I passed. They wouldn't even whisper. Maria was quick to use me well and circulate the stories. She used it almost like propaganda. But Rene never balked, never let his commanders balk, and spoke to me just like he would anyone else. When Peter came for me, we had to flit through Louisiana. There's not chance in hell Rene didn't know about it – but he let us pass unmolested. I'll owe him for that, forever."

Her answer was simple. "Then so do I."

He grinned and shook his head, dropped a kiss to her crown. Esme pulled back, her hands moving to sweep his hair back from his face. "You didn't answer my other question, though."

"How I stood it?"

"Why you're in such a good mood."

He let his hands drop to her waist and started to move her in a lazy box-step. "Well," he said, lightly, "It could not have possibly gone any worse, that much is true."

Esme hummed her agreement.

"But all the same, she ain't the same woman I left all those years ago."

Esme frowned, a sight rare enough to make him pause mid-step. "She's improved, you mean?"

Equally as rare, Jasper couldn't hold back a deep, throaty laugh, his chest rumbling with the chuckles as he resumed their dance. "You are somethin' else Ms Esme," he teased her as she huffed. "No," he assured her. "Not quite. She seems…weaker. She let somethin' slip through that I don't think she meant to."

"Her emotions?" He nodded. "And that's why you're smiling?" He nodded again.

After a few more steps, Esme's small fist thumped his shoulders. "Well tell me already!"

He took her hand, spun her out and, full of grace as always, she spun back in and let him dip her and gently bring her back up. She was grinning, her eyes bright. She enjoyed a waltz with Edward, a jive with Emmett, and swaying to songs on the radio with Carlisle; but it was their secret that she loved dancing with Jasper the best. Full of affection for her, he let it spill over and touch Esme. The love she returned was astounding.

"Oh Esme," he sighed. "She was jealous."

Surprise blossomed from her. "Jealous? Of who?"

"Of everyone," he grinned. "Of Rosalie's beauty, I expect; of Emmet's size. Of Carlisle's ability to lead a coven so…efficiently. Of our deference to you and what she'll have seen as our deference to Edward. And of Alice –"

"Because she has you."

"Because she's everything Maria isn't."

Esme smiled sweetly. "Jealous, indeed."

"I'm sorry we have to move though." If he had been honest, Jasper would have expected his apology to be met with sweet acceptance. Instead, Esme scoffed and swatted his head.

"Jasper!"

"What?!" He asked, bewildered.

"Edward and Emmett are going to be impossible."

"That doesn't explain anything."

"Oh they've placed another wager on what you'd apologise for. Edward thought it would be Maria's…punishment. Emmett thought it would be for the move. I'm predicting a fight before the end of the evening."

As if on cue, crashing and tinkling could be heard from inside the freshly painted walls, and the muffled battle cries of his brothers. "And they say Alice is the one with psychic powers," he said.

"Come on," she unwound herself from him and tugged him along. "Come help me reign in the terrible twosome. I have just finished this house and I am not building it again before we leave."

"Can I make Emmett cry?"

Esme glared at him out of the corner of her eye. He knew the look well. She was battling with her disapproval of anything that would upset her 'children' versus some years old grudge she continued to hold against the youngest, hulking Cullen for something he had inevitably destroyed.

Evidently the grudge won out.

"Well…maybe just a little bit."