I haven't written for a while, finding this last half a season hard going for Paige and Em, but this came to me, so I thought I'd give it a go. It may continue. I'm not sure where yet, but I wanted to put it out there to see what people thought. It's hard-going I think, so I won't say 'enjoy'. It's set sort of from where we are now, perhaps just a few weeks after the Season 4 finale.

IT'S been threatening showers all day. But now Paige is getting nervous because it looks like it's going to rain – and not just rain – it feels like something more apocalyptic than just rain. The thunderclouds had started to build up around 4pm, about the same time as she had the idea to ride over to Emily's. By 6pm when she finally lifted her bike out of the garage, the rain still hadn't fallen. She lifts her eyes from the road in front of her and sneaks a look overhead. The clouds are a lowering purple-black now, pregnant with rain, heavy with lightening and there's a static in the air that's making the ends of her hair fly away. As she cycles through the park she notices the swings hanging motionless. The light looks bruised, the seesaw standing at a dead angle; there's no one around, the town is hushed, still, as if asleep.

Emily watches from her window, her heart speeding up as Paige loops round the corner, riding with effortless grace, faster than she should, more daring than Emily would like, as she's told her more than once. Not that Paige would listen, she'd just laugh at her, stop her concerns with kisses, until Emily laughed along with her and Paige would persuade her to ride double on her bike and they'd tear through the streets of the town (But not now. Not anymore).

Emily's head is pressed against the window as she watches from her window-seat. She shouldn't be here: she should be getting ready, she has a date tonight: a first date and she should be 'dressing to impress'. Hanna's already been on the phone, Aria came over earlier with Ali to offer advice on her sexiest top to wear. None of them cautioned against it, none of them suggested that perhaps her heart is too bruised and sore, that maybe she's a little too broken to start this whole business of dating, of opening up her heart again. Not one of them mentioned Paige or how maybe Emily should give her another chance – a chance to explain herself, to prove herself. Although what she could do, Emily isn't really sure. The only one who hasn't said anything, who, if Emily were honest with herself, she noticed giving her a little sideways glance that Emily took to mean: 'take it easy, be careful, what about Paige?' is Spencer. She hasn't even heard from Spencer today (And what exactly does that mean?)

And now here comes Paige, on her bike and Emily knows how she'll look when she comes to the door with her (perfect) face slightly red, tendrils of her hair that she's pushed into a rough ponytail at the back of her neck slightly damp from sweat that Emily (used to) likes to play with, running her fingers lazily across the back of Paige's neck, feeling her shiver, watching her cheeks turn redder, (when she used to lean forward to kiss the hollow of her throat and taste the sweat still lingering there).

Paige looks up at the window and Emily draws back quickly, unsure if she's seen her, watching closely as Paige lays down her bike on the Fields' perfect lawn, smoothes her hair with her hands and wipes the sweat off her palms on the legs of her jeans.

It's Pam who opens the door to Paige, who is flushed from her ride. She looks down at the floor (like she used to when she first started dating Emily) and despite herself, Pam's heart goes out to her and, against her better judgement, when she speaks, Pam's voice is kind,

"Paige. Hi."

Paige stutters a greeting out, "I wondered if Emily … if she .." she takes a deeper breath and meets Pam's eyes, "Is she in? Can I see her?"

Pam notices for the first time the letter that Paige is turning over and over in her hands. She knows the writing, similar envelopes are (were) pinned up on Emily's notice-board, usually containing hastily-scribbled cards, or notes on pages torn from the back of school note-books. Pam's never read them, but she's seen Emily reading them, seen the way she blushes a little, or laughs and catches a breath until she realises her mom's in the room.

Pam closes her eyes for a moment, looks away. Paige has a way of looking directly into your face, as if to test what's brewing there, and then just as quickly look away, so she's never caught staring. It's unsettling, a little unnerving and was one of the things she found hard when Emily and Paige started dating (that, along with her dreadful father). But Pam has warmed to Paige, has watched the way she was with Emily, how she treated her with infinite care, with infinite love. But she knows something has happened to blow them off course. She doesn't know what, but for whatever reason, her daughter has asked that she doesn't allow Paige into the house and so that is what she'll do. Even against her better judgement. Though she still thinks,

(Damn, Emily, you should face this yourself, not have me do your dirty work. Poor girl looks like she hasn't slept in days. That's not going to help her chances of getting into Stanford. I hope her mother notices and takes some care of her.)

She says, "I'm sorry, Paige. She doesn't want to see you."

Paige's breath catches and she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, tears come to her eyes, but Pam sees her clench a fist, take a step back and a deep breath and it takes all of her strength as a mother not to lean forward and take her in her arms and hold her.

Paige's body is her great betrayer. For years she built up a wall around herself, training herself to keep her emotions in check, to put on a front, a sneer, so that people thought her arrogant, cold, angry, a bully. But if they'd looked closely, they'd have seen the slump in her shoulders and the stoop of her back that she couldn't help but happen every time someone whispered about her, or called her out, every time they laughed about her, or jeered at her. They'd have noticed the way her body responded when Emily touched her, when she ran her hand across her back, or along her arm, when she held her hand and leaned forwards with a smile to kiss the corner of her mouth

(don't think that now, don't think it here)

instead the tears spill over and she hands Pam the letter,

"Please. Can you give her this?"

Pam hesitates, then takes the letter. She studies the envelope and by the time she looks up again, Paige is wheeling away on her bike. The rain's started falling now and she can see it picking on Paige's shirt, she has a mother's fear and calls after her,

"Paige! Be careful!"

Emily's up at the window again, watching as Paige cycles away. She watches her to the end of the road where she swings a wild right-hand turn into the on-coming traffic. Emily's breath catches in her throat in fear, but Paige is all right. She rides like she has no fear, it's when the fear comes that accidents happen and Emily remembers the night Paige came to apologise to her for scaring her in the pool. How she was, small, fearful, shaking with cold and wet-through. How she told Emily she hated herself, how she was scared, how she thought about what would happen if I wiped out.

Emily has another memory: of nearly four years ago, the first time she met Paige. She was excited, it was freshman year, and she was on her way to her first swim-practice where she was going to try out for the team. It was early morning and she'd asked her parents to let her walk to school. She wanted some time to shake off the nerves and excitement. She stepped into the cool morning air of the town. She could hear the song of the birds and felt the faint whisper of the morning breeze across her face. She was young, 14, invincible. She hadn't yet known that people could be hurt, friends could die, that people could be cruel and unkind, that they could hurt you and betray you. She wasn't yet under Alison DiLaurentis' spell, wasn't yet one of the chosen four, not yet one of the 'liars'.

She was crossing the intersection where the main link-road from the upper suburbs scurries downhill and crosses the street she was walking down. At this time of day she wasn't worried about cars or traffic and she was so engrossed in her own thoughts, so full of possibilities and potentials, that she didn't hear the click-click of the bike's chain, or the thrum of the bike's wheels on the tarmac, in fact it was not until she heard the exuberant "Whoo-hoooooo" that she looked up, but by that point she was already half-way across the road.

Paige McCullers, at 14, rides her bike like she does most things: diving into a pool, swimming or running, playing or laughing: fearlessly, boldly. She rides her bike as if there were no such thing as death, or getting older – there's only now and here: only now she sees the girl step into the road just as she turns the corner in a wide arc. She knows the girl has seen her too late and is frozen into place on the road, she presses hard on the brakes, swerves to avoid the girl in the road and feels the wheels lose their grip, she knows she's tipped too far, her balance thrown and the bike crashes into a heap skidding along the gritty tarmac road. Her left arm and leg are dragged along the road taking off a top layer of skin, but her head is unhurt, though she'll be stiff and sore for a week after.

"Shiiit!"

Paige skids to a halt, lays for a moment watching the world upside down, sees the girl run over to her and stand above her. Even from this angle, even at age 14, Paige McCullers can tell that Emily Fields is going to be one of the beautiful girls. She sees her, her eyes lacing concern, her black hair hanging over her face, mouth twisted in fear,

"Oh my God! Are you ok?"

And Paige laughs, long, loud and raucous. Emily worries she's hit her head and has got concussion or something but when she looks she can't see any blood or any bumps. She crouches down and Paige, still laughing, rolls so she's on her side and Emily's no longer upside down, and she sees she wasn't quite right before, she already is beautiful.

"Are you ok? I'm so sorry. I didn't look where I was going. I didn't think anyone else would be up at this time."

Paige manages to recover herself a little. She stops laughing and pulls herself up into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the pain that shoots through her arm and leg and the pain causes her to remember her dad (and how mad he's gonna be if I don't get into the swim team 'cause I was messing on my bike) and she frowns involuntarily. Emily takes fear for pain,

"Is it painful? Are you hurt? Oh God, look at your arm, you're bleeding."

Paige finally looks down at her arm, she brushes away some of the dirt and flakes of skin come off at the same time, she draws in a breath, looks quickly at Emily and then just as quickly looks away again,

"I think I'm ok. It hurts a bit."

She shifts again to lift herself up and Emily moves to slip an arm around her waist to support her. When she's on her feet again, Paige looks down at her leg, assessing the damage. She should be ok to swim, she's had worse,

"Are you ok?" she asks Emily,

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. You managed to avoid me." She chuckles lightly, remembering Paige's cry of delight as she rounded the corner and how it turned into the yelp of surprise as she saw her.

"What?"

"Nothing. You were just so … excited to be turning the corner. I'm sorry I was in your way."

Paige dips her head, a little embarrassed, she reaches her good arm to scratch the back of her neck,

"You heard that, huh?"

"Yeah. It sounded fun."

Paige blushes and scrapes the toe of her sneakers along the tarmac, "Huh. It's a wild ride down that hill." (Especially when you dare yourself not to use your brakes).

Emily thinks (I'm sorry I didn't mean to embarrass you) but she doesn't quite know how to tell her, doesn't want to embarrass her further, she tries a new tack,

"I'm Emily … Fields."

"Paige McCullers at your service." She winces as she forgets herself and tries to use her left arm to salute. Then she remembers where she is, and who she is and how she's in High School now and her friends are different and her mom's told her she has to stop acting so boyish and she has to grow up and be a lady now. She scuffs her toe again and Emily sees something flash across her face that she doesn't recognise. Paige turns abruptly and reaches for her bike.

"Anyway. I gotta go. I'll see you."

And she's hopped up on her bike and cycled off before Emily gets a chance to say anything else, to ask what she was doing there at that time of the morning, where she lived, if she was new and if she was going to school too, because, to Emily, she'd looked like she was about the same age, but she didn't recognise her, not yet.

But Paige recognised Emily. Once she'd stood up and got a good look at her face the right way up, she'd recognised her. She recognised her specifically from Spanish, where she sat two desks in front and three to the left of Paige, because Paige had spent most of yesterday carefully watching her, because something about Emily Fields fascinated Paige, if you'd have asked her, she wouldn't have been able to tell you what it was, just that she looked nice, or seemed kind, that she had a nice smile, she didn't know anything else, not then, not yet.

Of course, they'd bumped into one another again less than an hour later at the swim trials and for a while they were on the way to becoming friends. Until Alison DiLaurentis stepped in and Emily's life was swept off on a different course altogether.

But for the first few months of High School, Emliy watched Paige. Something about her drew her towards her, Emily thought it was because of their first meeting: about the coincidence of it, of how special the streets had seemed at that time of the morning: as the dawn was just breaking and the low-slanting September sun was peeking through the clouds casting weird shadows of the buildings – elongated and sharp-edged – onto the sidewalks below. And how maybe they'd shared something unique something special.

After that first meeting, Emily watched Paige on her bike as she rode: she'd catch glimpses of her as she cycled to or from swim-practice, sometimes she'd see her in town, weaving her way through the traffic, she'd watch her concentration as she spotted a slight gap she could manoeuvre into, and Emily would wait for the faint kick of her hips and the flex of her arm muscles as she guided the bike into the space.

Emily liked best to watch Paige as she rode around town. She watched as she sped around the streets, riding as if she were beating the Devil. She rode like she knew she had him licked: as if she knew that with one kick of her wheel, one shift of a gear she was off and away from him – that all he could do was lash out a despairing hand and she was gone: a smile on her face as wide as the road she rode on. At 14, Paige rode like she never believed the demons would catch up with her; but as time wore on, she began to realise that demons couldn't be outrun for ever and they started to weigh her down and catch at her back. She'd never believed that a demon could wear a human face: a girl's face. Paige never believed that people would make fun of her for her eczema, that they'd call her names, but she heard them whispering in the changing rooms, heard Alison DiLaurentis' delight in her new name, her voice the voice of one who would always win: "Pigskin" and how it whispered and followed her like tendrils through corridor and street.

Paige stopped riding like she could beat the Devil and instead rode like a legion of devils were on her back. Her feelings for Emily, her competitiveness and her tomboyishness were all demons she carried. And Alison – the largest and the fiercest demon with the beautiful, cruel, heart-shaped face of a teenage girl. Paige was one of the freaks and the geeks and the nerds: the outcasts, the outsiders – hiding and trying never to be seen. The only place she found respite was in the swimming pool. Until Alison disappeared. Until Emily Fields knocked her off her course for the second time in her life. It was only when she started seeing Emily, both the first and the second time, only when she found the courage to come out, only when Alison DiLaurentis was dead and (thankfully) buried did Paige's joy come back. And so did her fearlessness: she'd beaten the Devil – she'd survived, the Devil hadn't.

And then . . . She came back.

As for Emily, Paige was someone who she spent a little time with. They swam together most days in training. She found Paige funny, she recognised Paige's competitiveness as something she too had, although no one else really noticed it. She felt that from their first meeting, they had a connection, a story that they could tell. Until she fell under the spell of Alison and Paige along with everyone else fell away. Until she disappeared and Paige re-surfaced in her life.

But now Ali's back. And Paige is lost.

They are lost.

Emily sighs and turns away from her rain-streaked window, she closes her eyes: (Be safe, Paige).