TwiGirlsNextDoor Christmas Crackers

Pairing if Applicable: Bella/Jasper
Title: Unforgotten Kiss

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements belong to Stephenie Meyer. The words and plot belong to the author.

Brief Summary: It was just a goodbye kiss, that was all. So why is it that six years later Bella still can't get him or that kiss out of her mind? Fate brings them both back to their small hometown, Bella a librarian and Jasper a disillusioned war veteran. Maybe now she'll get some answers. AH. Bella-Jasper. M/NC-17 for lemons.

A/N: This started as a oneshot, but the characters wanted a bit more depth. Since I'm pretty much at their mercy, it's going to be a short story instead, currently outlined at 10 chapters. I hope that's okay with whoever gave this prompt. Here's chapter 1.

Unforgotten Kiss

Chapter 1

Moving On

Six Years Earlier

Jasper

I swallowed the last of the beer in my cup, watching the graduation party around me and deciding which group to join next. I'd just finished rehashing our senior baseball season with my teammates. Unlike the rest of them, I wasn't going on to college, the minors, or a local family operation, so I didn't see much point in hanging around when the talk turned to future plans.

A few yards away, my ex, Alice, chattered away to her new boyfriend, Demetri. Ugh. Alice and I were civil enough to each other, but I couldn't stand Demetri. Nope, not going over there.

A series of loud shouts drew my attention to Newton and his posse. He was, as usual, making an ass of himself, this time by having a chugging contest with Eric. How stupid can he be? No, not going over there, either. Maybe after Newton passes out.

But some more beer sounded like a good idea.

As I headed over for a refill, I noticed Bella and her boyfriend, Edward. She looked awesome in a short green dress, her brown hair hanging down her back in waves. But she didn't look happy. Uh-oh, trouble in paradise. Hands are on her hips, bad sign. Edward looked sulky as he said something short and ran a hand through his reddish-brown hair. He was almost too pretty to be real, but he was a nice enough guy. We'd been friends, but we hadn't hung out much since he and Bella started dating. I wonder why that is... My inner voice's sarcasm was almost tangible.

Bella didn't like whatever he'd said. She shook her head and made a cutting motion with one hand. His face lost the sulk and became downright angry.

She turned her back on him and walked away with him staring fixedly at her back, the anger fading to hurt. He followed her and pulled her around to face him. I couldn't hear what he said, but half the room heard her response.

"NO! Just leave me alone!" She stalked away from him. Edward's expression reverted to anger as he stalked in the other direction.

That was definitely a fight. Maybe a break-up fight? A faint hope stirred before I squelched it.

Yeah, so I'd thought about me and Bella...as a couple. I'd thought about it a lot, actually. Bella and I were friends, had been since kindergarten. She was beautiful, smart, kind, fun—why wouldn't I think about it? The timing just never...worked. We were too young and familiar, and then I had a girlfriend; when I broke up, she had a boyfriend. She broke up, and I started looking at her differently, but then she got dragged down to live in Phoenix for a year because her mom was convinced that Forks was a fate worse than death for a teenage girl. She came back, and I was with Alice; we broke up, and she was with Edward. Now, she was leaving in a few days for college, some kind of summer kick-off program for select students, while I headed down to San Diego for Marine boot camp. Even if they had broken up, it's not like I had a chance. Bad timing—again.

But we were still friends, and she looked like she needed one. I headed her off as she tried to sneak out, her shoulders hunched up to her ears in what I recognized as a protective gesture.

"Hey, thanks for the show. I was just getting bored."

She didn't look at me, just huffed. "Glad someone enjoyed it. Not so much fun for me."

"Seriously, are you okay? A public scene is not you."

Her deep brown eyes met mine. One thing I loved about her was the way they reflected her emotions so clearly. Yes, I said it. So I'm an eighteen-year-old who's not afraid of the L-word. Deal. I saw frustration, hurt, anger—and determination. "I'm okay. Well, maybe not right this second, but I will be. It had to be done."

I hesitated. Do I want to ask...?

I have to know.

"'It'?"

"We broke up."

Somewhere, a choir started singing the Hallelujah Chorus. Who cared about timing?

No, I'm her friend. She needs me to be there for her, not to jump her. I mean, jump on her. No, I mean, jump at this opportunity. Argh. Just stop.

"I'm sorry. Maybe it'll work out—everyone fights sometimes."

No, don't listen to me—what do I know? Dump his sorry ass and look at me!

"No, it's more than just a stupid fight over nothing. It's over. And I want it to be over. It's just..." Her eyes filled, and she struggled to finish her thought. "I really love him, you know?" She sniffed. "But he's not good for me, and he can't or won't see why."

I considered her for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it or forget about it?"

She chuckled reluctantly. "What?"

"Well, if you want to talk, let's get out of here and you can unload. If you want to forget, I'll buy you a beer. I was about to get a refill anyway."

She shook her head, her long hair swinging with the motion. "Beer, definitely. I'm not rehashing the whole thing right now."

We walked over to the keg and got a couple of beers. She chugged hers almost as fast as Newton—but without falling over afterward—and went for another. Figuring one of us should be coherent, I stopped drinking. Sure enough, halfway through the next beer, she started talking, so I steered her outside to the deck. I got an earful about controlling, sneaky Edward, how he told her she was too good for him but then never listened to her and went behind her back to have things his way.

"He still thinks I'm going to Dartmouth with him, can you believe it? I don't even know how many times I told him I can't afford it and I don't want to go that far! And then I told him I was going to Berkeley, and he laughed—laughed at me!—and said of course I wasn't going to that 'hippie' school." She took another swallow of her beer and then snorted. "'Hippie,' huh. What is he, from the sixties?"

"Does he know it has the top-ranked English program in the country?" I asked dryly.

"I dunno. I don't care anymore." Right after she said this, she sniffled. Oh, boy, tears. Tell me again why I'm out here instead of enjoying my graduation night? "It all just seemed so perfect, you know? He's just—just dazzling, but he's no good long-term. Oh, man, and he'd be completely impossible in a long-distance relationship. I did the right thing; I know it. It just hurts."

She looked at me with those deep brown eyes, red from the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Oh, yeah, that's why. One look from those eyes and I'm a goner. "Yeah, I know what you mean." I put my arm around her, and she leaned against my shoulder. "It'll be okay," I murmured. A shaky breath escaped her, and then she seemed to quiet.

We sat there, listening to the muted music and laughing from indoors and the soft rustlings of nocturnal animals in the forest surrounding the house. She felt so natural, nestled against me. I pictured what we must look like, the porch light's glow reflecting brightly off my blond hair while gleaming on her dark brown waves, my six-foot-two frame curved protectively over her smaller figure. I thought about making a move, especially since time was so short, but it just felt wrong to pounce on her when she was still broken up about Doucheward. We'll both be in California...I won't get leave during boot camp, but a lot of bases are there, too—maybe we could meet up after I'm stationed somewhere? Unless I get shipped off...

I swallowed. Something within me was absolutely certain that the service was what I wanted, but I wasn't stupid—enlisting while we were involved in two wars was scary. If it happened, I just hoped I did my nation proud.

"What are you thinking about? You look so...determined." Her soft voice broke through my concentration.

"Just, you know, the future. Boot camp, what'll happen after that."

She immediately understood. "Do you think you'll have to go to Iraq or Afghanistan?"

"Dunno, but unless they end in the next three months, I probably will."

She was silent for a moment, and then she whispered, "Are you scared?"

I shrugged. "Some, I guess—but for now, I'm more worried about boot camp. It's supposed to be twelve weeks of hell. I just hope I don't wash out. I've been running and working out, so at least I'll be in some kind of shape when I go. And I've tried to read up about what to expect—you know, try to be mentally prepared."

"You'll do great." Her voice was confident. She sighed. "Wow, puts my teen angst into perspective, though."

"No," I protested. "Don't put yourself down like that. Your feelings are honest."

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to remember there are plenty of worse things than breaking up with your high school boyfriend."

We laughed, and I was glad to see her humor return. We went back inside and spent the rest of the night having fun with our classmates. If a shadow crossed her face now and then, she shook it off and put on a smile, determined to celebrate the end of an era. And me? I partied, too, but mostly, watching her bravery, I just fell a little deeper.

~UK~

Five days later, she left for Berkeley. She wanted to have the weekend to get settled before her program started the following Monday. I had promised to be at her house to say goodbye—even though she was leaving at the godawful hour of 5:30 a.m.

Wednesday night, I set my phone alarm for 4:30 a.m. Then, like an idiot, I forgot to charge the damn thing. Luckily, my clock-radio was set for 5:00 from the morning runs I'd been taking, so I had a backup—but not one that left me much time. I scrambled into the nearest clothes and leaped down the stairs three at a time. Running to the car through a downpour, I slammed the door and tried to blink the rain from my eyes as I turned the key...and it wouldn't start. Curses flew as I tried again and again and...nothing. I slammed my head back against the headrest. I have to say goodbye...I may never see her again...please, you just have to start.

Taking a deep breath, I tried one more time. I couldn't believe it when the engine caught and roared to life. A laugh of disbelief emerged, but I wasn't about to question my luck. I threw the car into gear and drove as fast as I dared to Bella's house. Just as I turned onto her street, I saw her dad's police cruiser coming toward me, with Bella in the passenger seat. I waved frantically, but he didn't slow down even though I could tell that Bella was asking him to. He must be worried about the rain making the drive take longer...but he has to stop!

I made a quick U-turn and followed the cruiser as it headed toward the 101, waiting for an opening. Finally, a right-turn lane and a red light gave me my chance, and I pulled up next to Bella. I quickly rolled the window down and motioned to her, and she did the same. Neither of us cared about the rain pouring into both vehicles, but I could hear her dad telling her to stop being a fool and close the window that second. Ignoring him, she smiled at me.

"I'm so sorry! The stupid car wouldn't start!"

"It's okay!" She laughed, raising her voice so she could be heard above the rain. "I'm just glad you made it. Hey, you take care of yourself, understand? I don't care if it's drill sergeants or Iraqis, you watch it!"

I nodded, rivulets pouring down my face. "You, too—watch out for hippies and arrogant professors!"

We both laughed, and then she pulled herself up so that she hung out of the window from the waist up. I could hear her dad's protests getting louder, but she just reached her arms out. "C'mere! Give me a hug!" I just looked at her for a second. Then, realizing I could hardly get any wetter, I put the parking brake on and pulled myself halfway out of my window.

I started to reach for her, but then I saw that I hadn't parked the cars close enough for us to hug. I took her hands and squeezed them, looking into those incredible eyes and noticing how her lashes were darker from the rain. All the feelings I'd suppressed over the last few months welled up. I felt my smile fade as I just gazed at her, trying to store every detail in my memory. Suddenly, holding her hands wasn't enough.

Moving one hand to the back of her head, I pulled her toward me and met her lips with my own. I poured everything I had into that kiss—love, friendship, and all of my teenage passion—not stopping until her father yelled and pulled on her waistband enough to jerk her away from me. She seemed dazed as she sank bank into her seat, her eyes never leaving mine.

The light, which had probably gone through a couple of cycles, turned green, and the cruiser pulled away. Our eyes stayed locked until he turned onto the highway, and then she was gone.

Slowly, I became aware of the rain pouring over me and into my car. The sight of a pick-up driving down the cross-street made me realize that I was blocking the lane and needed to move before someone came up behind me. I lowered myself into the seat, closed the window, and drove home.