A/N: So, this is it! I am finally doing a multi-chapter fic. I'm not sure how the continuity and stuff is gonna go but I'll try and update it pretty regularly, unless everyone hates it haha. Anyway, sorry if it starts off a little slow but it'll get more interesting, promise.
Enjoy x
"Shit goddamnit Piper!" Petite fingers tightly clasped a half empty coffee cup as the blonde woman frantically scurried into her office block, cursing herself under her breath for the duration. She stood in the elevator impatiently tapping her foot, until finally the doors opened, upon which she bolted in the general direction of her desk, shaking her head. "Piper Chapman you are so fucking-"
"LATE!" A voice boomed. "Again. Not good, Chapman."
Piper visibly cringed as her boss, Richard, sidled up alongside her and rested a condescending hand on her shoulder. Richard was the kind of guy who made Piper want to gag. Tall, too much gel in his hair, smothered in overpoweringly strong aftershave that didn't even smell good, and was just generally slimy. It wasn't that she didn't like guys, it was just that she found guys this next to impossible to tolerate, which was super fucking awkward, what with Richard being her boss and everything. So, she had no choice but to oblige.
"I'm so sorry, Richard. It won't happen again." Piper flashed him the best fake smile she could possibly muster, and luckily, it seemed to work, as Richard removed his ever-lingering hand from her shoulder. He rolled his eyes.
"You say that now, Chapman." Richard smiled a bit too widely, his frightfully dark, hollow eyes aggressively piercing into Piper's like probes. "You've only been here for all of two years, Christ. And sure, the FBI has changed over that time, but you haven't. I'll be watching you arrive late at least once a week for the rest of eternity at this rate." He deadpanned. "Team meeting in fifteen and you'd better be fucking ready, it's a big one." And with a wink that made Piper shudder, Richard breezed off down the endless corridor, probably to go and jerk off in his office, leaving Piper in his wake, disgusted, and now even later than she was five minutes ago.
With a sigh of defeat, Piper dejectedly dumped her stuff at her immaculately tidy desk and prepared herself for the forthcoming meeting. Yes, it was true that working for the FBI, essentially as a spy, (or whatever her actual job title was), could be considered the coolest job in the world, but most of the time it was just a shitstorm of stress and the dullest paperwork ever known to man. Piper had locked away more risk assessments and routine health questionnaires in a filing cabinet than big-time criminals in prison, and the only thing she really 'spied' on as such was the coffee machine down the hall, to see when it was at its quietest. Oh, how she hated gossip-filled run-ins with coworkers that she didn't particularly know, or like, at the coffee machine. But then again, Piper felt that for her tender age of 23, she was doing pretty well for herself. She'd graduated with a good degree, gotten herself a good job, (even though she wasn't allowed to tell anyone what it was), and overall, she felt pretty damn cool for once. So now, as she lazily reclined over the back of her office chair, Piper exhaled, praying that the new case was going to be a good one, because otherwise her only shred of hope that today was going to be a good day would be jeopardized, and that would put a firm and immediate end to her already waning motivation. Mercifully, the clock told her that it was time to head down to the conference room for what would undoubtedly be a half-hour show of Richard parading himself around the table, chest puffed out, trying to market himself to all the pretty ladies and simultaneously assert his authority to the men because that was just the type of sickening person he was. If they were lucky, he might even give them some information about the new case. Ah, the life of a spy, Piper mused to herself.
The conference room was one of Piper's favourite rooms in FBI HQ. Its entirety was black: the table, chairs, and even the walls, floors and ceilings were made from a brilliant, glistening black marble; it looked pristine. The expansive room had no windows, instead, various screens covered the walls, all showing maps of the world or America, current threats to national security, the stock market, weather, and national news. But Piper had always thought that the coolest screen was the biggest and most central one. This screen was used to facilitate important conference calls between the FBI and the other governmental agencies of America, such as the CIA. Sometimes, the white house would have to get involved in a meeting, and Piper always reveled in the surreal feeling of sitting in a conference with the president's face filling the giant screen, looking down on all those sat around the table and actively joining in with the conversations. Not many people got to do that in their jobs, even though it only happened very rarely in Piper's.
When all the attendees were comfortably sat down, Richard lazily tossed an enourmas batch of thick files onto the unnecessarily long table before collapsing into his unnecessarily large leather chair and sticking his feet up onto the table, crossing them casually. Dick, Piper thought. It only took the smallest of actions for Richard to piss her off, he was just so aggravating.
"This," his deep voice suddenly alerted Piper, causing her to jolt upright. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is the collection of case files containing information on what is currently the largest and most dangerous drug ring in America. And America," he looked around the room, nodding steadily, "wants us to find these people and lock their sorry asses away." He then stood up and began to pace around the table, something which Piper found extremely uncomfortable, almost predatory, as if he was a hungry animal waiting to catch its innocent prey. "They are dealing drugs," he continued, "growing drugs, exporting drugs, and also", here, Ricahrd paused behind Piper's chair, bending down towards her ear before snarling into it, "importing drugs." Piper wanted to be sick due to the undesirable close proximity between herself and Richard's huge, muscular form, yet she maintained a steady, steely gaze, eyes locked with the far wall as if her life depended on it, and imminently, Richard relented and resumed pacing hungrily around the table. Fucking disgusting. Piper shook her head a fraction to rid herself of any thoughts of him but then realised that she hadn't been concentrating throughout any of what Richard had just said. And was he now talking directly to her? Yep. Shit.
"Jesus, Chapman, we don't have all fucking day. Some of us have international drug cartels to crack, and the scum of society to mercilessly imprison for the rest of their lives. Oh, wait! You're one of those people, Chapman! So hurry the fuck up and pick." He was starting to get irritated; Piper could see it in his body language, all fidgety and constant.
"What am I picking?" she sighed hopelessly. Richard violently facepalmed and made sort of stomach-churning, patronising joke about whether he needed to 'show her the ropes'. Piper was getting annoyed now. She was well aware of how to do her job and Richard knew that, but he must have also known that his constant, overbearing presence in her work life was distracting her in the worst possible way. No one decent would sense rejection so strong and keep persisting with the slimy offers, sexual jokes, and all the other shit he'd handed her over the past two years; apart from Richard, apparently. Nice one Piper, there you go again, you're losing it.
"Aaaaand too late Chapman. Everyone picked whilst you were hovering over there, fantasising about whatever it is you like to fantasise about."
The only thing Piper fantasised about these days was all of the interesting ways that she could remove Richard from this planet.
But now, Richard began to advance towards her and Piper recoiled, feeling threatened. "Too shy to share?" He laughed, and it sounded evil. Piper wanted to get out. "I could give you something to fantasise about. Right now." He moved in even further towards Piper, god knows what to do, but Piper ducked and darted past him, where she finally snapped.
"You are fucking disgusting!" She spat. "Nothing is ever going to happen between us. You need to fucking stop, Richard. I could get you put down for harassment pretty damn easily!" Piper screeched, but Richard just snorted and thrust the last, untouched, and worryingly, thinnest file from the case into her arms.
"Good luck with that one, Chapman." He smirked, his face expressing nothing but pure menacing. "Nobody picked that file because, as you can see from its size, nobody's got shit on that one." He turned on his heel to leave the room before pausing and whirling back around and adding, in a mocking tone, "oh, and by the way, if you don't find the person in that file, you're fucking fired, Chapman. Enjoy." And with that, he departed, leaving Piper actually shaking in anger, fear, and repulsion. She bit back her onslaught of tears and tried to regulate her breathing, and then looked down at the file in her quivering hands; the file that contained information about a criminal who was soon to become the focal point of her life. Piper felt a sudden buzz rush through her and she gripped the file harder. She would find this person. She would dedicate all of her time and energy into hunting them down and bringing them to justice. There was no way that she was going to lose her job to a filthy criminal. Piper's fingers traced over the name on the file: Alex Vause.