moodshifter | Alice Cullen | Natasha Romanova

The way that his eyes seem to change in shade is something that she's noticed since she's started spending so much time around him; it's hard not to, when she finds herself looking at them as often as she does. They're lighter after he feeds, they were red after he killed that scientist, and it doesn't take one to put together exactly what that means. She leans in the open doorway as he speaks, studying the way that he seems to still himself, but the unexpected request has her brows rising a little to her hairline. "Jasper." The way she says it is almost scolding, but she stops herself before she continues. It isn't as if she has to tell him that he doesn't have to do this, he fully knows that. She hovers in the doorway for another moment before putting her empty plate down on a small table and finally stepping out into the night air.

She moves slowly for him, and a part of her is intently aware that she doesn't have to do this either. She shouldn't be, she's just feeding into something that she shouldn't be encouraging in the first place and Natasha barely recognizes herself as she moves, barefoot, across the balcony towards him. Maybe it's the fact that he's making the effort when she knows that he doesn't have to, even though all of this is insanity and he very well may be crazy to believe in his wife's 'visions'. However, this isn't just the first time that Natasha hasn't had a mission, it's also the first time that she's had a taste of what it means to be truly, completely, utterly alone. She always thought that she would be okay when that day came, and she's finding out that she's not the person she thought she was in that aspect. Or, at least, the person that she used to be.

So she'll try, too.

She manages to move up to him closer than she's ever been before, not touching but barely inches from him face to face, and at this short distance she can see details in his eyes that she's always wanted to study more clearly but was never able to. Her walls come down deliberately even though she's raw and nervous; and embarrassingly hopeful, despite her earlier claims. It'll be easier for him, she thinks, if she tries too. Removing her safety is the only way she can prove that she's doing that.

"Jasper," she says his name again softly as her gaze finally falls between them, knowing that this can't be easy for him. She's so close, she can touch him so easily if she wants to but Natasha isn't sure if she can handle him suddenly disappearing after she's gotten her hopes up that they can get past this wall. She wouldn't blame him, not in the least; but she'd blame herself, because she already knows she's being far too optimistic. "We don't have to do this..."

It's not easy for him. It's not easy to watch her approaching, predatory in her own way even when walking softly and carefully like this. His eyes close for a moment when she drops those well-crafted walls of hers and lets herself flow out ahead, washing over him like a tide: anxiety, nervousness, hope, the hope he'd known was still there even when he couldn't find it.

He opens his eyes again almost immediately and takes a slow breath through his mouth, which helps. She brings heat with her when she comes so close, he can feel it radiating from her in the chilly air. He's been out long enough to be the same temperature, and she's nearly glowing, and he's...

This close, his expression of surprise is unmistakeable. He's fine. The hunger is there, the hunter beneath the surface, but he has it reined in. They've been this close before, he realizes, dozens of times even in the short time they've been around each other. In the car, he'd spent hours suffused in the smell of her. Had he simply not noticed himself growing accustomed to it? Had he been too distracted by what they might find at the house, the next steps they'd take together to find the rest of the family?

He still doesn't move as he watches her, even as that little half-smile appears again. "Don't we? Yet, we're here, aren't we." And he isn't bolting. He isn't breathing, but he isn't bolting.

She looks up before he replies in just enough time to see that smile of his slowly rise to the surface. He seems fine, and Natasha is, admittedly, quite surprised herself by that fact. Apparently they have made progress, considering two weeks ago he could barely be in the same kitchen as her.

The smile that she gives him in return is a mirror of his own, crooked and a little more cheeky, and her eyes flicker down to his mouth once more before meeting his gaze. "Don't get too confident now, Jazz, my charm is still dialed down to a solid 1, right now." She wets her lips nervously before looking down at him again, making sure that he isn't fidgeting in his own way before she takes a deep breath to steel herself. She's putting a decent amount of effort into it as well; Natasha is hyper aware of her own heartbeat, keeping it steady the way she does when she has to lie. A quickened pulse probably wouldn't help him in this situation.

Her hand moves slowly, and at first she only touches his hair to brush it out of his bright eyes. Fingertips move against the skin of his forehead and she pulls them back quickly, looking at him in surprise. "You're cold." She blinks, and her eyes narrow a little with a dramatic sigh. "You have to warn a girl." There's still warmth in her voice, an obvious tease, and finally she places her hand on the side of his face to hold it there completely still.

"We still good, handsome?"

Her hand fits against his cheek like a brand he never wants to pull back from. He can almost hear the movement of blood beneath her skin, slow and steady, calm in a way at odds with the way she's feeling to him. He's unblinking as he watches her, still as stone, no fidgeting, but even his grip against the railing isn't too tight.

From what he'd gleaned from Edward whenever he'd been around Bella, back before they'd married and she'd turned, Jasper's having an easier time of it than his brother had. Natasha smells good, but she doesn't smell irresistible, just...good. Comfortable. Carlisle would be proud if he were here, he thinks. "Yes," he breathes. "No...more than this, right now, I don't want to need to run from you. But. Yes, Natalia, we are still good."

He's out of air from that and he doesn't want to risk breathing in again with her this close. He doesn't want to risk flinching, either forward or back. He wants her to be able to stay where she is. He falls silent, just watching, that same little smile still in place. He can only imagine what she'll be like when she dials up the charm. No one in his family will be able to resist liking her.

Despite the fact that she's moving so slowly and the fact that it's absolutely frustrating to be this close and yet not close enough, Natasha can't help but smile back at him when he admits that he can't do more than what they're doing right now. She feels like what she assumes a teenager would after first discovering their feelings for someone, as if she's courting him with innocent uncertainty. "You can't call me Natalia and then tell me that I can't touch you more, that's what we call mixed signals, we're I'm from." She's teasing again, keeping it as light as she can to keep his attention on her, and not his hunger.

She almost lets go of him and tells him that it's enough for tonight, that the effort means more than the actual action, but she can't find it in herself to pull back. His skin is almost hard beneath her touch, cold like stone and yet somehow not unpleasant. He's not breathing and she can see that, but for now she finds comfort in holding his face and looking at all the little features she wasn't able to see before. "You're obnoxiously attractive." Blunt. Almost annoyed. She says it factually, not even flirtatiously, as if it's something that he should apologize for and the funny part about it is that Natasha wouldn't be surprised if he did.

She can't stop smiling now, a relaxed one that warms her eyes as she looks up at him. "Vy sil'neye, chem vy dayete sebe kredit."

The last little breath he has escapes in a huffed laugh, his smile growing boyish for a moment, and if color could still rise to his cheeks, it might have. He wants to answer, and he's going to, he's no stranger to discipline or to endurance. His hands tighten dangerously on the wood as he closes his eyes for a moment and parts his lips and breathes in, shallowly at first, and the thirst is there, it's burning in his throat, but when he opens his eyes again, they're just as pale as before.

"Must be difficult for you, finding someone nearly as appealing as yourself," he murmurs, keeping still for her scrutiny. He wants to nudge at her hand, turn his head into it, he would if it were Alice, but he's still cautious. He's the greatest risk for her if she does agree to stay, he'll do what he needs to do to train himself out of it. Part of that is going to be patience.

But he finally does tip his head just a little at the soft Russian that comes so naturally from her. "Ja dumaju, chto Vy bolee hrabry, chem Vy znaete. I don't know that I ever thanked you properly."

She waits patiently for him to breathe in and she can see the effect she has on him, that boyish smile that rises in that moment for her alone. The satisfaction she feels is different from what she's used to; usually when she gets a man in her grasp it means she's won, and she supposes it still means the same thing in this situation but in a very different way.

His reply gets a sheepish grin out of her, one that makes her eyes fall between them before returning just as quickly with a mockery of her normal tone. "It is, it's actually quite a struggle. I've been working with coping mechanisms, they haven't been nearly as effective as I'd like but I think I'll survive."

Her smile softens into something rare and affectionate when he just barely tilts his head into her touch, and Natasha can't help but close her eyes when she hears him speak in her language with that soft southern drawl that she's grown to enjoy so much.

"Je ne pouvais pas vous laisser là. Tu mérites mieux." French this time, just to keep him distracted and thinking as she gently brushes her thumb against his cheekbone in response to the tilt of his head. "You have no reason to thank me."

"I'm so pleased to hear that," he murmurs, and the breath he'd needed to take for that next set of words hadn't driven the burning thirst into his throat quite so sharply. The motion of her thumb is distracting, verging on dangerous, but not there quite yet. He wouldn't go so far as to call it safe—he isn't certain he'd ever classify himself as 'safe' in any regard—but it's not crossing any lines that shouldn't be crossed either.

Switching up her languages, when discussing something as serious as this, it's working to keep his mind on that and not on anything that could lead to his becoming distracted, and his concentration slipping. "Begging your pardon, Natalia, but I believe I have every reason. Vous êtes venus pour moi, oui, mais alors vous êtes restés."

His eyes rest so easily on hers, it's so rare in any human that they can meet a vampire's too-steady gaze with such comfort. "Come with me to meet my family," he whispers. "Come with me to meet Alice."

That feeling, the fluttering in her stomach, it can all be explained with science, and that's what she tells herself. She's just a victim of serotonin being released into her system, giving her the impression of a lighter heart and a dizzy head, and yet knowing that doesn't seem to make it any easier... nor any less wonderful. She wants to believe that a little part of her hates him for making her feel this way, so unlike herself, but she doesn't. She simply can't.

"You shouldn't argue with a lady, Jasper." Her eyes move back up to his face now, and her thumb falls still as she holds him and moves just a centimeter closer, very aware of the lack of distance between them and how hard she needs to try to maintain the remainder. "
Nessuno voleva che restassi prima di voi."

His request leaves her staring at him, the thoughts turning around in her head over and over again, and she wants to say it aloud just so he can hear how absurd it sounds. Walking into a home of vampires to meet his psychic wife as she stands here on the balcony, experiencing such childish emotions from simply touching his face. Yet after a lingering moment, she finds herself nodding.

"Okay." She finally agrees, and the smile that moves to the surface is bright and genuine. "Alright. Bring me to your family."

"Only in the direst of circumstances would I ever dream of arguing with a lady, ma'am," he says with an innocent blink, and then she moves just that fraction of an inch closer and he goes still again. She says yes and it makes him smile, but he's very abruptly come up against the wall of his endurance.

He's just glad there's still breath enough to say, "Enough. Please." He knows she'll understand, there's a sharp enough plea in his eyes as he watches her. If she doesn't step back, several steps back, he'll need to leave, just what he'd been wanting to avoid. She'll forgive him, but he still doesn't want this moment to end like that, with him hopping the balcony and racing into the forest and running until the thirst falls away.

"Oh right, because you're a gentleman, I keep forgetting." She replies with the same tease in her voice and his smile only makes her shine that much brighter, unfaltering when he finally announces that he's hit his wall of tolerance. There's no hesitation in how she moves, graceful in the way her hand falls away from him and she takes several steps back as if floating centimeters above the balcony instead of walking against it. A second later she's back to leaning in the doorway, giving him space in the open air so the slight breeze can bring him new scents that aren't her own.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Her smile returns, arms wrapped around herself to keep warm against the slightly cool air, and she gives somewhat of a facial shrug paired with a shoulder to match. "That's a lot more control than I've seen in most mortal men, let alone someone like you." Her gaze softens into something kind and honest in a way she would usually keep to herself. "I'm proud of you." The swell of hesitant optimism in her matches her words, as if confirming for him that she means it. "Your family, you said that they're probably not going to have as much of a struggle with it? Being around me?"

The decreased proximity helps immediately, which is significant in and of itself to Jasper. Generally he needs to remove himself from the situation when he comes up against his limits. He can still remember how difficult it had been to be around Bella before she'd been turned. His horrific lapse at her birthday party. It had taken him weeks to forgive himself for that, in no small part due to Bella's immediate forgiveness, even in the moment.

It's easier with Natasha, it's been easier from the beginning, and he isn't certain if that isn't because she really is meant to be with them. Edward had grown accustomed to Bella so quickly, despite how enticing she'd smelled, more so than most humans. Is that happening to him? The compliment makes him duck his head and smile, before he looks up at her again, watching with a lopsided smile.

He can take a breath now and almost ignore entirely the burning thirst. "I can guarantee that. This isn't the first time we've experienced something like this...someone like you. Edward's wife Bella, she was human when they first met," he says, relaxing some now, the line of his shoulders loosens. "I had the most difficulty then too. Nearly killed her at her own birthday party once, just from a paper cut."

At the mention of Bella's birthday party Natasha gives him a sympathetic look, but it doesn't take long for her crooked smile to curl one side of her mouth once more. "But you didn't kill her," she points out, eyes moving up in thought. "Which, technically, is probably the best birthday gift someone could get, so. You know. Good job." By the time she looks back at him she's giving a full smile once more, but its obvious that she's slipping back into thought when it starts to slowly fade. Natasha likes being happy, whether she'll allow it, even subconsciously, is a different story.

"That's the second time you've mentioned that, now." She says it passively as her eyes fall back onto him. "The concept of someone being turned in the family. Earlier, when we were talking about Alice's vision you said that you didn't know if I was 'still human' when she saw me." It's something that Natasha had caught but filed away, knowing that bringing it up at that time wouldn't have gone well given the temper she was in. "I'm not going to make that promise to you." She's blunt about it, but she's never been one to dance around when she has a point to make. "I'm not saying that it won't happen either, one thing I've learned is that the future is always uncertain no matter how many psychics you have on your side, but I need to make that clear. That I'm not promising that."

She hesitates, and after the words leave her Natasha looks down at her feet. "I think that's something you should consider, both you and Alice. If I'm going to be a part of your life in some way..." she huffs a quiet laugh, but it's lacks amusement and it's mostly self depreciating. "I never really expected myself to see the age of forty in the first place, but even if I do make it, it's going to be hard to watch you stay young. And to know that you're going to lose me, if that's how this all works out."

It's only then that she manages to look up again, this time with a sheepish visage of uncertainty. "I don't live a safe life. Even if I did, I need to know that you're aware you're willing to get involved in this even if it means that you may end up watching me die, from either age or...something else."

It's a challenge sometimes to let her go on until she's finished and not to interject, but it's important to whatever this is going to be that they start out as they intend to continue, and Jasper isn't in the habit of interrupting. Everything she's saying matches up with everything she's feeling, and although it's a roiling tangle as it always is, he's relieved that they seem to have made up the ground he'd lost them by not being truthful.

There's a sharp yank of a hook in his heart at the idea of losing her when he's hardly even adjusted to the idea that they might have her in the first place, but when she's finished, he stirs, turning around again to look up at the stars, wishing again that Alice was there. They should be talking about this, the three of them, not just him muddling through on the brief understanding of Alice's vision, a vision which may not even be true anymore, for all he knows.

"Being turned is not something we would ever insist upon," he says quietly, staring out into the woods. "Not ever. We...none of us had the choice, except Bella. Alice was turned because it was the only way to protect her against being murdered by a vampire who had his sights on her. I was turned to be a part of Maria's army. Carlisle saved Edward and Esme and Rosalie and Emmett from their certain deaths. That's how it usually happens, when there's no other option. Even Bella waited to be turned until she was nearly gone, and she'd wanted it."

But that isn't what really needs addressing. "I can't say how this is going to work," he continues at last, sounding somehow weary even if he doesn't get tired anymore. "I don't know. I truly do not. But thus far, the only agreement you've made is to come meet Alice. I think leaving it at that for now is enough."

Although she hates that she feels the need to bring things like death and the future up, Natasha doesn't feel guilty for doing so even when Jasper seems to take it harder than she had originally expected. Death is something that she was raised with; sometimes framed as the enemy, others a friend and ally that helped her achieve an ultimate goal. She knows it intimately, perhaps more intimately than any person that's ever walked into her life, and one thing she's learned from such a close relationship with it is that avoiding it in any way, is absolutely useless.

"I know you wouldn't insist upon it." Partially because she can't see Jasper doing something like that, but partially because she feels as if he knows her well enough by now. Forcing something like immortality upon her unless the situation was dire would be an ultimate betrayal of her trust, and the end result would be a very angry, very violent newborn. "Let's leave it at that, then." She finishes with a slight nod. "But it's something to keep in the back of our minds. I just want you to know that I'm thinking about it, it's something that should play into whatever decisions we make."

He doesn't want to speak about it, that part is obvious. She trails off, instead watching him intently from her doorway, and after another passing moment she picks up again. "I'm going to get some sleep. We should keep moving tomorrow, every night we spend stationary because of me is a night that we fall behind." She's chewing the corner of her lip once more, deep in thought, but after she says it she stands straight and turns to walk back into the house. Natasha's voice floats over her shoulder with a softer tone. "Goodnight, Jasper."

He knows it's important. It's vital, if they're to have any future at all, to decide how to bring that about. But all of this, everything they've discussed, it all feels as though it's missing something, and it is, it's missing Alice. Maybe it's the familiarity of the house and the area, maybe it's growing closer to Natasha, but Alice's absence aches now inside him in a way it hadn't done at the cabin. He misses her, and he only thinks he's doing the right thing, he doesn't know. She'd always been good at being the one who knew.

"I understand," he says with a nod, half-turning his head to watch her out of the corner of his eye, silhouetted in the doorway. "It won't be dismissed or forgotten. Spokoynoi nochi, Natalia."

He'll spend the night looking through the house, seeing if he can find any clues to where they may have gone next, if Carlisle had wanted to return to an old haunt again or if they'd blazed a new path. In the morning, he'll hunt again. Then they'll plan their next move.

By the time Natasha wakes up the next morning, Jasper is already preparing to go out to hunt. She manages to find a washing machine, and she cleans the clothes that she brought with her just to have something to wear after eating a slice of pizza cold out of the box. He's gone, and because of that Natasha is hyper aware of the unfamiliar space around her. She spends the morning out on the balcony, staring out at the trees and listening to the silence in the air until it's suddenly gone, ripped into by the sound of an approaching engine.

She can't see anything yet and that doesn't matter. Natasha is immediately back inside, moving through the house to get into the garage, and she pops open the trunk of their car to grab her glock and a knife she can hide up the sleeve of her jacket. She closes it halfway before pausing, and Natasha goes back a second time to grab the Widow's Bite that Stark had perfected for her. She doesn't know if the approaching car is from HYDRA or from Jasper's past, but she knows two things for certain; she can shoot a HYDRA agent, and if vampires still have functioning muscles and tendons, she can probably electrocute them long enough to get some distance. However, that would require her to catch them unaware, and because of that Natasha hovers beside the front door away from the windows, listening intently.

Car stops. Door opens, door closes. Natasha stands there, holding her gun close, and she flicks off the safety as she risks glancing through the edge of the window to catch a glimpse of whoever the unexpected visitor is. She recognizes her immediately as she approaches the front door, probably because she knows that the garage is full.

It's Alice.

Natasha would be lying if she said that she hadn't been curious as to what the woman looked like, and she didn't have to wonder long with the amount of pictures that were hanging on the walls. She gives a sigh, falling back into position against the wall, but this time she closes her eyes and winces at the ceiling before turning the safety back on and slipping her gun into the back of her jeans. Of course it's Alice, with the way Jasper speaks of her Natasha's surprised she hadn't expected the second vampire to come and find them herself, and she realizes in that moment that she's not ready. She's not ready for this, meeting the woman who's been married to the man that Natasha is far too attached to; the one who apparently believes Natasha to be a future love, which sounds absurdly juvenile when she thinks it.

It isn't like she can avoid her, and Natasha doesn't run away from confrontation. Instead she opens the front door, leaning in the doorway to watch Alice climb up the stairs, and when she's close enough to see clearly the redhead gives a smile that she truly means to be genuine, but doesn't quite meet her eyes. "He's going to be thrilled when he gets back."

The only reason she'd been able to let him go had been because she'd known she'd get him back. It had still been the hardest thing she'd ever done, made much harder almost immediately when she'd had a vision of his escape, his kill, the knowledge that he'd blame himself and his weakness for it. She'd accepted when Edward had offered to let her stay with them, it had always been a little easier having him around to see her visions almost at the same time she saw them herself. She never needed to explain herself to Edward. He was restful. And having Bella and Renesmee and Jacob around was enough of a distraction that she didn't sink into her thoughts too often.

She hadn't been intending to keep an eye on him, on them, but their decision had been so certain, the force of her vision had made her stop dead in the middle of the kitchen and lose her grip on the stack of books she'd been carrying: —the balcony outside the living room, Jasper standing stock-still but at ease, comfortable, Natasha standing impossibly close for a human but still perceptibly alive, touching his face, two bright smiles—

"It's working," she'd whispered, and Edward hadn't needed an explanation, just tossed her the keys to her car as he crossed to clean up the mess she'd left behind.

Driving makes her impatient. She's moving so slowly, she could run and be there so much faster, but she knows she shouldn't rush this. This is important. She wants to arrive when she knows Jasper will be gone. She wants to meet Natasha herself, before she's distracted by a reunion with her mate.

As she pulls up to the house and parks in the driveway, she can hear the faintest sound of a human heartbeat, almost faint enough to be her imagination if she didn't know for certain that Natasha was there. She's nervous, she thinks as she waits a moment behind the wheel before climbing out, she's nervous in just the same way she'd been when she'd gone to that Philadelphia diner to wait for Jasper to come inside. Just because she knows something will happen doesn't mean she's always confident about it. What if Natasha has already decided she doesn't want this? What if she doesn't like them?

But when the door opens and she catches sight of the woman with the red hair in person for the first time, Alice can't help the wide, delighted smile, and it takes effort not to rush up the steps and pull her into a hug. She won't like that, Alice reminds herself as she hops up the last few steps and comes to a halt only a few feet away, clearly wanting to close the distance, and compromises by reaching out to take Natasha's hand in hers. "I know," she says, her voice nearly bubbling over with happiness. "You came. I didn't know if you would."

"You know a lot, from what I hear." Natasha holds her smile as she shakes Alice's hand, and she suddenly feels so remarkably out of place. Jasper isn't like her, he has a life and a family that worries about him, a wife who's willing to follow the visions in her head to hunt him down and meet him as soon as he's close enough to do so. Simply standing there across from the petite woman and her warm smile is enough to make Natasha doubt every decision she's made in the past two weeks, because really, what the hell is she doing here? There are more than enough holes in her life for Jasper to fill, but she has nothing to offer him in return. Everything he needs, he has right in the woman standing before her, and Alice has just as much as he does. Natasha is nothing more than icing, something enjoyable but not necessary.

"My schedule has suddenly opened up, it's not like I had a lot of other things to concentrate on." She lets her hand fall away, and despite how nervous and uncertain she is, Natasha refuses to let any of it show on the surface. Instead she's collected, her walls up even though Jasper isn't here to feel her emotions, because they were never there to keep him out. They exist to keep everyone out.

Natasha moves aside to let Alice in, not wanting to get in the way considering it's much more hers than Natasha's. "Jasper told me that you had a vision of me coming with him and I didn't really see why not. I would still be in the cabin if I didn't." She pauses for a moment, watching the other woman intensely as if trying to pick up on something that she can't see upon first glance. "He told me the truth last night, about what you saw. Would have been nice if he shared with the class before we drove halfway across the country but like I said... I don't have much to lose. You saw us here? Is that how you found us?" Because if they were tracked, then Natasha is a lot rustier than she thought she was.

"I saw you last night, more than a week ago, it must have been when you decided to come here," Alice says serenely as she steps inside and looks around with a nostalgic smile. They've lived in a lot of places, but so much had happened in Forks. For immortals, it's rare to find so much change in only one place, in such a short time.

She spins in place, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, to get a better look at the woman she's only seen in her mind's eye. Beautiful, of course she is, Alice had already known that, and now she knows why she'd gotten the impressions of angry and sharp. Jasper isn't here to know what she's feeling, but Alice thinks she must be feeling about as nervous as she is, for very different reasons. Not a bit of it shows, though, and it's almost intimidating in a way.

"I saw how careful he was with you," she says more softly now. "I'm sorry he didn't tell you everything I saw, he should have, he knows better, but I'm glad, I'm so glad you're here." And she holds out a hand again, fingers spread, watching to see if this decision, whatever it is, will prompt her to see further out. Things are shifting very rapidly now, it's difficult to get a clear vision of anything, she needs someone to make a decision.

She's much more expressive than Jasper is, all of her thoughts and emotions closer to the surface for Natasha to pick up on. The mention of the previous night has Natasha's cheeks barely flushing, and she looks at the woman oddly with a tilted head. It's strange to hear her say something like that so openly, how she had seen Natasha touching her husband's face with no qualms, and the mortal woman can't help but marvel for a moment at just how much weight they both put into the visions that Alice has. It's as if they take it as law, where unless something drastic changes then the future is certain. "He did well," she commends with a small smile, that awkward air still hanging between them. Alice doesn't seem to struggle with being so close to her, and Natasha won't say aloud how relieving that is. She doesn't know if she would be able to be kept at arms distance by everyone she meets this point forward.

"And don't worry, he knows how upset I was that he kept it from me." She raises an eyebrow when she sees the way that Alice moves her hand, and it takes her a moment to realize that this must be what she looks like when she's searching for something; not physically, but within her mind, in the future. There's something about it that tugs on Natasha's heart, and before she can doubt herself she reaches out to gently take Alice's wrist, prepared this time for abnormally cold skin. "Alice." She looks at her with the shadow of a smile to get her attention. "The future isn't certain, if you keep checking in for answers based on what's happening in the now, you're not appreciating the now enough in the first place. Relax."

She lets go of her wrist, head tilting to the side to let her wavy hair fall over one shoulder. "You don't need to try and look in the future to figure out what's going to happen. Jasper is going to get home and he's going to be thrilled that you're here. We're going to go see the rest of your family, and we're going to take it from there." Her smile widens a little into something more genuine. "And if I don't want to stay, I'm not going to stay. But right now... I'm here. I'm coming with you. That's our future and... that's good enough for me right now, how about you? Why ruin the adventure of it all?"

"Oh, that's not..." Not how it works, she's going to explain, clearly Jasper hasn't done a very good job of it, but she's distracted both by Natasha's words and by the sudden sweet warmth of her hand, which disappears much more quickly than Alice wants it to. Vampires don't blush, but she might be, if she could.

"The adventure of it all," she repeats thoughtfully, and her smile grows before she just can't resist anymore and she has to reach out and pull Natasha into a joyful hug. "That's exactly what I think," she continues as she releases her and takes her hand, lacing their fingers together, because all this polite-stranger nonsense needs to stop.

She tugs gently and leads the way to the low cushioned reading area tucked away behind the fireplace. Jasper will be back within an hour, she thinks, and they have a lot of ground to make up. "He's had you to himself for weeks, it's definitely my turn. But at least you didn't keep me waiting as long as he did," she says as she perches on the couch, legs tucked up underneath her.

She's listening carefully as Alice starts to explain something but then it's gone, and just like that she's being embraced by a stranger who's smaller than her yet hugs like she could easily crush Natasha if she really wanted to. "Oh - okay," the surprised utterance escapes her once she's wrapped up but Natasha does her best to be personable, hugging Alice back with a gentle pat on her back before she's released. She's practically the polar opposite of Jasper, it actually catches Natasha off guard how open and welcoming she is, and once her hand is taken she allows herself to be led over to the fireplace.

It's almost infuriating, how quickly Natasha likes her. The way that she moves, the way that she tucks her legs beneath her when she sits on the couch and looks so excited just to be around Nat, is quite simply adorable and Natasha can't stop herself from grinning as she sits beside Alice. She finally understands what Jasper meant, because he was right. Alice is much better at this, better than both of them apparently.

"Well I'm here now and I'm all yours," she replies with a pretty smile. It's easier to slip into that side of herself around Alice, Jasper always seem so unsure of himself and although Natasha would love to knock him off his game she's honestly not sure if he could handle it. She cares about him, though, and no matter where this road leads, Alice is his wife. She's important to Jasper in the way Pepper is important to Tony, and that makes her important to Natasha. Flirting is just an added bonus.

"So. You had a vision that Jasper was going to bring me home to you." She gives a playful wrinkle of her nose. "I've been told by a lot of people that I'm destined to spend my future with them, this one is definitely the most creative."

Alice laughs, clear and open like a bell, and takes both of Natasha's hands and twines their fingers together. It's obvious she's very practiced at touching humans, there's no hesitation about pressure, it's never too much or too little. If not for her skin temperature, still chilly from the outside air, she'd seem almost normal. But there's always something a little bit other about Alice, something the students at Forks High had noticed right away and it had made them keep their distance. While Jasper can devote his whole undivided attention rather intensely at someone, Alice seems to always be distantly listening for something.

"Let me tell you what I saw now," she says in the gently reassuring voice she uses for people who aren't accustomed yet to her visions. "My visions aren't very extensive, they're more like snapshots or little time-lapse videos of the future. I see images, impressions. And as soon as Jasper made the decision to stay behind, I had a vision of you, with a tiny crossbow, shooting a squirrel." She glances to the side, staring into space as she always does when she's either getting a vision or relating one she's had. "Emptying its blood into a coffee mug. A pile of trees, big birch trees, sitting near a cabin, and then a pile of firewood taller than the cabin roof. You and Jasper sitting by the fire that he'd built for you."

She blinks and looks back at Natasha and smiles, and maybe it seems frightening that it's so immediate, but there is a lot of affection in that smile. "And I saw us. You and me, not here, but in Calgary, where Carlisle took us." A giggle. "You have me tucked inside your jacket. You know that isn't going to do anything, it will just make you cold, but it's very sweet."

In any other situation Natasha would pull away, because Alice grabbing her hands so boldly and twining their fingers together should set off several red flags. There's something about her though, perhaps the way that she's so starkly genuine upon first meeting, that calms Natasha enough to lull her into a sense of security enough where she can allow it and, somehow, enjoy the contact. Maybe it's because she's gone so long without it... it's not until now that Natasha realizes, touching Jasper's face was the first physical contact she's had since her mission with Steve.

"I have you tucked inside of my jacket," she repeats aloud with a hint of tease, "seems a little counter productive, don't you think? But yes, the coffee mug thing, you're... right about that." She looks almost sheepish. "I just thought that it would help him a little, considering how much he was struggling to be around me." That's a strange little detail that Alice couldn't possibly know unless she really did have visions of the future, but Natasha is finding that easier to accept than expected. Once your best friend is mind controlled by an alien god with a staff that closes space portals, psychics don't seem to be much of a stretch anymore.

"So you really believe it?" She lifts her hands a little, still holding Alice's in her own, and Natasha can't help but run her thumb across the back of them to feel how smooth her skin is. "Your vision? Are you sure it wasn't a different angry redhead?" She gives a slight smile, crooked and playful. "One with a better temperament? This - I don't do this," she gives Alice's hands a little squeeze to clarify although, she supposes, apparently she does, "transparency and trust aren't really my thing."

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