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Moonlight Serenade

Summary:
Music brings Alice and Edward closer as they remember their trip to Woodstock, 1969 just as much as it tears them apart. Alice/Edward.


Notes:


1. Chapter 1

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1910   Review this Chapter

Alice found herself humming a familiar tune she couldn't place as she paraded down the upstairs hall. She paused a moment to wonder how the song had gotten stuck into her head and when she stopped emitting music from her vocal chords, she was met with the same tune floating from one of the bedrooms, something soft and jazzy.

She had a sneaking suspicion to who's room it was leaking out from.

Continuing with her humming and intent on discovering the forgotten title and musician for the song, Alice followed the music and sure enough led her to where she believed it would: Edward's room.

The door was only cracked and Alice took that as enough permission to enter without knocking.

"What are you playing?" she asked, curiosity dripping on her words. Edward barely registered she was there, lying on his couch, eyes closed, fully immersed in the music. Lazily, he cracked one eye and then the other, an annoyed look passing over his features momentarily at being disturbed.

Alice walked over to him and stopped, staring down at his face. He sat up wearily, placing his feet on the floor.

"It's Glenn Miller, Alice," he sighed, obviously a little perturbed.

"Oh, yes, of course!" Alice smiled, realizing she should have known that. "'Moonlight Serenade', right?"

"That's correct," Edward confirmed.

"Mind if I sit and listen with you?" She looked hopeful, gnawing her bottom lip slightly, clasping her hands in front of her politely to show him she wouldn't talk and interrupt his musical relaxation. There wasn't much to do in the dark, quiet hours of night and sitting with Edward was as fulfilling as anything else.

"I suppose you may," he allowed and scooted over a little on his couch, even though she took up a very small amount of room. She sat down and smiled as the song progressed. They sat with jazz pleasantly filling the air, two picturesque statues looking too antique and classic in their features to be seated in the contemporary house and era.

"It's quite a shame what happened to him," Edward mused softly when the song ended and the next song played.

"What happened to who?" Alice asked, her voice spacey and dazed. She'd found it an exultingly pleasant experience to simply sit with Edward and appreciate the music as he appreciated it, to soak up the melodic pleasantries of instruments.

"To Glenn Miller."

"Oh?"

"I remember when I first heard that song and knew that Miller was a genius," - Alice grinned at Edward reveling in his love for music - "and how upsetting it was to find he'd disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Alice echoed confused.

"Yes. During his musical career he participated in the armed forces. When he was flying over the English Channel to Paris for a performance in celebration of French victory, his plane disappeared, him along with it. Neither have ever been found."

"That is upsetting," Alice commented. She stood and walked over to where the CD played and stopped it. She heard Edward sigh.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, now that you told me that story, this music is depressing," Alice affirmed, "so I'm putting on something else." She kept the tune of 'Moonlight Serenade' in her head so Edward couldn't hear what she was about to place in the stereo. She browsed the shelves of music and plucked a case from the row. Popping open the CD casing, she placed the shiny disc into the stereo and forwarded the CD all the way to the last song.

Edward smiled as he heard the wah-wah whining of electric guitar. Alice grinned back at him.

"Hendrix, 'Voodoo Child'. Not bad, Alice," he congratulated her on her choice in music.

"I know," she responded smugly, allowing herself to move to the music in a random dance. "Remember we went to Woodstock, you and me? That was fun. The sixties and seventies were pretty cool. I sort of miss them." She swayed her hips and rocked her head like she remembered doing when she'd been listening to the same song live, dressed in clothing fashionable for the event and era.

"Of course I remember," Edward said, sounding offended that she suggest he wouldn't. "And yes, those were pretty good decades. Perhaps not for music entirely, but generally speaking, I'd have to agree."

"Come on," Alice smiled at him, "dance with me?"

"Alice," Edward groaned, obviously in no mood for dancing.

"Please?" she begged. He looked at her pointedly as if telling her no. "Pretty please?"

She fitted her expression into a pout.

"You know I'm more of a traditional dancer. I don't so much enjoy the free-style, body-movement dancing of the sixties as you did and obviously still do. I don't believe it can properly be called dancing," Edward stayed consistent in his decision not to dance with her.

"You'd dance with Bella if she asked you to!" Alice accused, her dancing not flowing as it previously had been due to her begging.

"Yes, but she's my girlfriend," Edward chuckled at her childish tactics.

"But she won't dance with you. It's like pulling teeth with her. I don't ask for much. Just dance to Jimi with me," she pleaded.

"Fine," he agreed grudgingly, standing up. "But you owe me."

"Deal," she smiled and restarted the song although it wasn't even done playing. He stepped towards her and wrapped an arm around her petite waist, pulling her tightly to him. She stopped in her dancing, wondering what this boy was doing. He took one of her hands in his free one.

"You didn't specify how you wanted me to dance, Alice," Edward whispered, a wicked little grin on his face. "And the deal is already set, so here we are. Dancing to Jimi, just as you requested." Alice decided the smile decorating his lips could only be described as an evil version of that crooked smile Bella seemed to swoon over so much. She gave him a fake pout, but proceeded to dance how he wanted to, not caring that their rhythm and moment didn't match the song.

Alice sighed and laid her head against his chest, thinking back to Woodstock. Edward seemed to be a somewhat happier being then, more carefree (or maybe it was just the sixties). She'd enjoyed it so much, dancing with him, a perfect angel. She enjoyed being the envy of the women around them even though everything about their dancing was innocent and friendly, not a thing to suggest they were anything more than close siblings.

Edward smiled pleasantly as he read Alice's thoughts, seeing the memory in a different perspective.

Alice adored the hippie style. She had rued the day she was bitten with short hair; her hair could never be long and flowing like the rest of the women in her style range. She envied Rosalie's golden locks and envied more that Rosalie would never allow her to decorate them with flowers or tiny braids. Rosalie had been very mainstream fashion-wise and Alice supposed she always would be. At Woodstock, the pixie-sized vampire proudly wore a headband strapped around her forehead, crafted herself, braided with different strips of fabric. A hue of reds in solids, checkers, roses, anything Alice found as scraps. It was her prized possession of the era.

Edward watched them through Alice's mind like a movie. She'd worn a white peasant blouse cut to expose her slim torso, beads and a peace medallion hanging from her neck, rust-colored vest with fringing and mini skirt colored to match, bare feet, bells on anklets ringing as she moved. She'd even painted a little white daisy on her cheek and a yellow-orange sun around her belly button. She'd looked cute. Very, very cute. Cute enough that at the time, Edward had had an impure thought or two about his adoptive sister.

They were lucky that the historical event was covered with clouds and had rained sparingly throughout the three days they'd been there. Whenever the sun did manage to peek out, the two had been prepared with a large umbrella, but as it had turned out, they really didn't need it that much.

Edward had simply worn a military style jacket (which Alice had borrowed from Jasper, insisting Edward wear it), a T-shirt and a pair of old, tattered jeans to the mega-concert. Next to Alice, he'd felt under-dressed, but considered her over-dressed in the first place, no matter how adorable she looked in the crazy hippie garb that somehow was so popular.

'Voodoo Child' was their song, both reasonable fans of Jimi Hendrix. Out of all the songs Hendrix had played with his band for those two hours, Edward saw Alice remembered that song best of all. Somehow, during that song when they danced they had ended up so close, skin fluttering over skin in smooth, random strokes and Alice's lips had reached up and grazed his jawline in a pathetic sort of kiss. Edward hadn't managed to remember this little detail in his own memory, more than likely too wrapped up in ingesting the music.

But Alice remembered.

Now the song was playing again and Alice lifted her head from his chest and looked up to him because Edward had stopped moving. He was emotionally puzzled at what the implications of such a memory meant and at why her soft lips barely brushing his skin was so vividly printed in her mind.

His eyes were a dim ocher, hunger slowly creeping back into his system. Alice's eyes were so gold they were practically glowing and she looked to him, confused but quickly understanding exactly what had happened. She supposed if she'd had the blood to do it, she'd be blushing. Realization flooded Edward's gaze and Alice blinked slowly in nervous response.

"Alice," he said slowly as if he were going to lecture her.

"Don't," she whispered, a command and not a request.

"But you can't-"

"I don't-"

"But you do."

"It's not my fault," her voice was quiet. "I can't help it." She looked away from him, embarrassed. She couldn't stand how stupid and careless she'd been. She'd worked so hard, telling herself it was her and Jasper, herandJasper, herandJasper. There was no room for Edward. Telling herself that her infatuation with Edward was a passing fancy, a crush because he was charming and beautiful.

Alice had been a good lier to herself. . . for a while. It was Woodstock that did it, that struck her denial into gear. When Bella entered the picture, Alice felt guilty because she felt jealous. She'd put so much energy recently into blocking Edward out of her head with physics, chemistry, calculus, stupid commercial jingles. She'd even taken to listening to hardcore rap with cursing every three words just to have more ammo to keep Edward out.

All that work for nothing. Because now he knew.

Alice reached up on her tip-toes and planted a feather-light kiss on his lips. Edward's lips parted when she did so almost apologetically. She took a miniscule step away from him and stared at her feet.

"I'm sorry," Edward tried amending.

"Don't be. I just. . . just need time."

"At least you've got eternity," he whispered.

Pained, Alice looked at his face. "Maybe eternity isn't long enough to get over someone like you, Edward."