It's not that Alex hates working at the flower shop. She decided long ago that she wasn't going to hate anything without a real reason, and (although if she thinks about it long enough, she's sure she could come up with plenty of real reasons to hate this mediocre job), she knows that if she starts to hate it, then she'd just be miserable all the time. She couldn't have that. If she's being honest, the flower shop isn't so bad on most days. People are friendly (mostly), the shop is rarely busy, and she gets paid by commission so if she sells some expensive-ass flowers to a desperate, panicking boyfriend, she gets 20%. Flowers are for apologizing, she knows, and if she speaks to someone like she really cares about their pathetic relationship, she can always sell something.
The bell above the doorway sings merrily, announcing a new customer (the first of the day, it's been slow) and Alex leans forward, putting her book on the counter, and pushes her glasses up over her hair. The customer, an average looking guy with a slight Jew-fro and an annoyingly typical-straight-guy sweater-and-collared shirt combo, gives her an awkward smile as he rushes over to the roses in the display fridge. Another desperate one. She can always smell their fear. She picks her book up, only half-reading this time. Watching guys like him is always amusing. He'd pick up a bouquet, inspect it with his black eyebrows furrowed, decide it wasn't up to par, and the cycle would start over again. Most guys end up settling for something (anything!) after four or five tries, but Jew-fro just wouldn't give up. She has to admit, she admires his tenacity.
But after ten minutes of sort-of-reading, sort-of-watching, it's starting to get old. Jew-fro is growing more frantic (and somewhat angry, if his slamming of the fridge doors is anything to go by), and Alex is bored and slightly alarmed. If he breaks the glass, she'll be in trouble.
When she tells him that, he looks up as if startled, like he forgot there was even someone working here.
"Oh! I'm sorry." He actually does look it. "It's just I got into this huge fight with Piper and I figured these would help me when I apologize."
He gestures vaguely around the shop and Alex raises an arching eyebrow. "Piper?"
"My girlfriend," he explains sheepishly. "Probably should've said that first."
"Right," she says, coming around from behind the counter and surveying what the shop has to offer. Her eyes land on a bouquet of blushing, pink tulips. "What about these? They're the freshest we have today, and they're nice to look at."
Jew-fro takes the bouquet from her hands and gives it his mandatory inspection. After a moment, he nods to himself and looks back up at her, smiling a relieved, grateful smile.
"I'll take them."
"Excellent." Alex goes back to the register and rings him up ($15.99 for the flowers and she got him to buy a $5 vase, all in a day's work).
"There ya go," she finishes, handing him back the flowers and wrapping his little vase in paper to keep it from breaking.
"Thank you," he says before he leaves. There's that earnest tone in his voice again and Alex actually does smile (for real) this time, not her fake, trying-too-hard-to-be-polite-so-she-won't-get-fired smile.
"Let me know how it goes with what's-her-name," she calls as he walks out the door, much more confident than he came in.
And then the shop is empty again. She watches him cross the street and walk down until he rounds the corner and disappears, probably off to his swanky upper-middle-class-New-Yorker apartment and his pretty, possibly-a-bitch girlfriend. She picks up her book again and shakes her head. Better Jew-fro than her, she supposes.
When Jew-fro returns to the store two weeks later (surprise!), Alex is arranging the display in the front window. She sees him coming from further down the street and half-expects him to walk buy. He doesn't seem upset or anything, but when he sees her in the window, he makes a detour and comes into the store, smiling when he approaches her as if they're old friends. Alex sets her glasses back on her nose and makes one final adjustment to the much-too-bright display before turning to him, smirking slightly (her natural facial expression, of course).
"How's the lady love?" she asks by way of greeting.
"The tulips helped," Jew-fro replies, the relieved look back on his boyish features. "Thanks again."
"I've seen it all," Alex explains with a wave of her hand. "We could all use all the help we can get."
"Right," he agrees, nodding.
They fall into an awkward silence that Alex doesn't feel the need to fill. She's working, not hosting a cocktail party, and she doesn't exactly consider Jew-fro the kind of person she needs to impress. She returns to the display, her hands guiding the large roses into place while she tilts her head to the side, blowing strands of dark hair out of her face when it gets in the way. Jew-fro doesn't leave right away like she expects him to. Instead, he looks at the small display of seed packages on the counter.
"Will these actually grow?" He asks after a beat, holding up a package of sunflower seeds.
"Probably not in the middle of a New York City winter," she supplies helpfully, not even looking up. "You could try in the spring."
"We've always wanted to try growing something on the terrace," Jew-fro says, as if she'd asked for The Epic Tale of Jew-fro and His Girlfriend's Flower Growing Adventures. "Piper loves sunflowers."
Oh, right. That's her name. Piper and Jew-fro, how sweet.
"Go for it then. I mean, wait until it's a little bit warmer, but anything's worth a shot at least once," she says with a shrug of her shoulders. She comes to stand behind the counter and eyes him for a moment before adding, "And if you fuck it up, at least you'll have a good story."
He seems a bit taken aback at first but then smiles and agrees to buy them. When he leaves this time with two packages of sunflower seeds in his coat pocket, Alex has made about a dollar off commission and sort of wants to hear how the sunflower planting goes. Sort of.
Alex forgets about Jew-fro pretty easily. The flower shop doesn't have regulars (just desperate men and elderly lovebirds. Oh, and Alex.), so she's not surprised when he never returns. She figures things must be going pretty well with him and Piper (right?), otherwise he'd be back by now, asking for her advice on whether roses were romantic enough or if they sold pumpkin seeds. So she falls back into her routine. She reads, gets takeout from the place around the corner, occasionally helps out a customer, goes home, and watches American Horror Story with Nicky (her roommate), while she complains about her on-and-off fling/girlfriend/mistress Lorna. Yet another reason why Alex stays away from serious relationships/straight girls.
Anyway, so one day it's pouring outside. Literally, it looks like the entire Atlantic Ocean is being dumped into New York and that everyone is just supposed to build a boat and tough it out. Alex is seriously considering locking up and retreating to the back room for an early lunch and episode of Scandal when a flash of gold on the street catches her eye. Her first thought is that that color of gold is gorgeous, her second is that the gold is actually someone's blonde hair, and her third is that no matter how gorgeous someone's hair is, they must be truly insane to be out in the rain. She watches the blonde sprint up the street and tilts her head to the side, pushing her glasses up and squinting as if that could possibly help her see better. She considers going out and calling the blonde in, but just as she's about to move from behind the counter, the door bangs open and (guess who!) the blonde drags herself in.
This time, Alex's first thought is damn. Even soaking wet, this girl is beautiful. She has strong, proud cheekbones, a defined, almost artistic jawline, and the most dazzling eyes Alex has ever seen. Her lips are full and a warm shade of pink and everything about her is warm, in an innocent, loving sort of way. And, to top it all off, her drenched, blue sundress is clinging to her curves in all the perfect places. It takes Alex a moment to start thinking again (her second thought now is snap out of it, Vause) and then she leaps into action, because she's a hero and a good person, dammit.
"Wow, you're looking ravishing today," she tacks on a winning smile at the end of her sentence, just to let Blondie know she's kidding. "Is there something specific you're looking for, or are you just browsing?"
Blondie looks up at her, a mysterious light in her eyes. "No, I'm just here to use your bathroom. I'll be gone soon."
Alex fights to keep the smirk off of her face. "Good, because the sign on the door says no loitering."
Blondie opens her mouth to reply (Alex is praying it's more banter), but then she sneezes and the little action sends her whole body shivering.
"Jesus, okay, never mind," Alex's eyebrows furrow and she takes the girl's hand. "C'mon. I've got a space heater in the back and the best ramen noodles in town."
She leads the soaked girl back behind the counter and into the small back room. Plopping her down into one of the two chairs around the small break table, Alex flicks on the space heater. It hums to life and blasts warm air into the room almost instantly.
"What happened to no loitering?" She's still shaking, but there's no tremor in her voice.
Alex glances back at her from the cupboard above the microwave. "I figured I'd make an exception for someone with such good taste in places to take shelter from the rain. Chicken or shrimp ramen noodles?"
"Chicken." Her reply is automatic. "I just don't think powder that's shrimp-flavored seems very legit."
"And chicken-flavored powder is?" Alex's eyebrows shoot up over the rims of her glasses. She smirks at Blondie and shrugs her shoulders. "Hey, I'm not here to judge your decisions. You were the one who decided to go out in weather like this, though."
"It wasn't raining when I left my place," she mumbles, then sneezes again.
Alex fills the Styrofoam cup with water and then puts it in the microwave to heat it up. She grabs her Yankees sweatshirt from the hook on the wall and tosses it over to the blonde.
"Here. Just don't get any chicken powder on it, all right?"
Blondie actually looks surprised at this gesture, but she puts it on anyway, burrowing into the too-big sweatshirt and leaning toward the space heater with a sigh. "Thank you."
"Don't worry about it, kid," Alex assures her. "I take in strays all the time."
"Really?" The disbelief is clear in her voice.
"Oh yeah. Generosity, along with selling flowers, is one of my many talents."
"I'm sure," Blondie snorts. When Alex turns to glare at her (only half-jokingly), she flashes an annoyingly disarming and enchanting smile.
She struggles to come up with something witty and deflective, but is saved anyway when the microwave beeps and she can focus on the arduous task of Making Ramen Noodles for a Soaking Wet Hot Stranger. She dumps the packet of chicken-powder into the cup and all but slams it onto the table in front of the blonde.
"Just eat your noodles, okay, kid?" Alex pulls out the chair across from her and seats heavily into it.
"Don't call me that," Blondie grumbles around a mouthful of ramen. "I have a name, Alex."
On the last word she reaches out and taps Alex's handwritten (in all caps with a silver Sharpie, for character) nametag. Then she leans back and smiles triumphantly into her noodles as if she's just won World War 2 as opposed to reading a nametag.
"Wow, pretty and literate," Alex smiles, leaning over the table so their hands are almost touching. To keep herself from actually touching Blondie's hand (god forbid), she retracts one and touches the rim of her glasses. "So, should I read your nametag or are you going to spare me the trouble and tell me?"
"Piper."
Why does that sound so familiar? She mentally runs through the List of Girls She's Fucked in The Past Six Months, followed by the Archives of Nicky's Attempts to Get Over Lorna, and finally List of Bartenders/Waitresses/General Girls She's Spoken To and comes up dry. She doesn't have the best memory, but she feels like she'd remember meeting her. But then…why does that name make her feel like she knows her?
Wait…
"Jew-fro's Piper?" The revelation comes as quickly and as hard-hitting as the rain outside.
Piper looks up from her ramen noodles, her eyebrows furrowed adorably over her inquisitive eyes. "What?"
Alex rushes to explain (and finds, to her dismay, that she's praying that she's wrong). "There's this guy who came in here to buy flowers once for his girlfriend. He's pretty nerdy looking, wears sweaters, kind of awkward? Has a little Jew-fro? He bought pink tulips to apologize for…"
"A fight!" Piper finishes, sitting up straighter and grinning blindingly. "That was Larry! He's my boyfriend." She pauses, her eyebrows knitting together again. "He's not nerdy looking."
"It doesn't make a difference to me," Alex replies drily, her mood instantly taking a downward plunge. How did Jew-fro (Larry, she supposes) score a girl like this? "Did you like the tulips?"
She's aware of how condescending she sounds and how bitchy she must look now, with her arms folded and her face now contorted into a malicious sneer. But Piper either doesn't notice or doesn't want to challenge her.
"They were beautiful," Piper sighs wistfully. "I guess I should thank you for that, too."
"I'm a hero," Alex says, and Piper laughs, though there was nothing joking in Alex's tone. Alex feels herself beginning to hate her.
The rain ceases its pounding on the roof and Alex gets up to check the front of the store. A few rays of sunlight are peeking through the window, glistening off of the leftover rain on the street and pushing the remaining clouds away. She has to admit she's slightly relieved when she returns to the back room and sees that Piper is finished with her ramen noodles and looks warmer and drier. She can kick her out now without feeling too guilty (not that Alex Vause ever feels guilty for kicking a girl out).
"Hey, it stopped raining. The sun's out," Alex informs her.
Piper rises from the chair almost regretfully and looks at Alex for a heartbeat of a moment before giving her a small, truly grateful smile.
"Thank you, seriously. You didn't have to do all this for me."
"Don't mention it," she replies, waving her hand dismissively. Then she smirks, wanting at least a little victory. "Seriously, don't. If everyone finds out I'm giving out free ramen noodles, I'll run out within the week."
Piper laughs again, a beautiful sound that Alex can't bring herself to dislike, so she lets herself enjoy it while it lasts. She never has to see this girl again, after all, so why waste time being angry? Piper removes Alex's sweatshirt slowly, as if she doesn't want to leave it behind, primps her hair, and then thanks Alex one more time before walking out of the back room. Alex follows her into the store and stands behind the counter, watching Piper smile and wave as she walks by the window. She tells herself not to watch Piper as she disappears down the street, but Alex never listens to herself and does it anyway. Logically, she knows she'll never have to see Piper again. Rationally, she knows it's for the best. But irrationally, impulsively (Alex's favorite way of doing things), she wants to.
Alex thinks about Piper on and off for the next three days. She can preoccupy herself well when she's at work, whether she's arranging displays or taking inventory or reading or actually ringing up someone, but every now and then she lapses into boredom. When texting Nicky or playing trash can basketball doesn't cut it, she thinks about Piper and then proceeds to get angry and hate both herself and Piper (herself, for thinking about a straight girl; Piper, for even existing in Alex's life at all). She figures those are good enough reasons and allows herself to wallow in anger and hatred until one night Nicky comes home from her job of Pretending to Know Shit About Electrical Stuff and tells her to snap out of it.
"Seriously, Vause, it's not going to do you any good thinking about her," Nicky informs her bluntly as she cracks open a beer and opens her Chinese takeout box. "You're never going to see her again, so just find a new girl and move the fuck on."
"You're one to talk," Alex replies bitterly. She purposefully keeps her eyes trained on the McDonald's commercial on TV, just to avoid Nicky's glare.
Nicky points a chopstick at her threateningly. "Watch it. Take it from me, okay? She's not worth your time. What's your number one rule?"
"Don't fall for a straight girl," Alex mumbles obediently.
"Exactly. So don't."
Her roommate falls silent, clearly basking in the fact that she thinks she's proved her point (either that or chicken dumplings are more important than Alex's love life). Alex, however, spends the rest of the commercial break wishing she hadn't given Nicky the Don't Fuck With a Straight Girl talk as many times as she had. It's full of good advice, and now it'd been used against her. Definitely the last time she'd waste perfectly good advice on Nicky ever again. When the commercial ends and How I Met Your Mother returns on screen, Alex decides that Nicky (and herself, because it was her advice originally) is right. Piper's one girl in a whole world of possibilities, and Alex is way too busy to let herself get hung up on someone like her.
For about two hours, she feels better, until she falls asleep and has yet another dream about Piper in her arms.
"I've been thinking about you a lot."
Alex doesn't see exactly who is speaking, as she's currently turned around behind the counter, trying to finish up her inventory sheet while the numbers are still fresh in her mind. She knows, of course, that she should've turned around when the bell rang (because it's good customer service and it would've saved her the trouble of playing Guess Who Has Been Thinking About Alex), but the last thing she wants to do is have to recount how many damn carnation bouquets are in the fridges on a Friday night.
Without turning around and without stopping her writing, she replies, "Oh really? Why's that?"
She can only imagine who's in the store right now. Maybe a former fling? Or a stalker? She seriously doubts the latter is likely, but it is New York and anything could happen. With a flamboyant stroke of her pen, she marks the grand total at the bottom of the page and then signs her name next to it for posterity. Then she puts the clipboard back in its spot on the wall and turns around, a perfect smirk already on her lips.
Waste of a smirk, because it's Piper who's standing on the other side of the counter (half of Alex is thrilled, the other half is screaming).
"Because I owe you for taking care of me," Piper explains, everything about her genuine.
Alex tries, really, to ignore how good she looks. Her now-dry hair tumbles loosely down her shoulders and against her collarbone in golden waves, her eyes are brighter and bolder thanks to the small but perfect amount of makeup around them, and her dark blue blouse is a beautiful contrast to her light skin. Forcing herself to recover, she shakes her head and half-smirks.
"You don't owe me anything, kid."
"Not even a coffee?" There's a slight, pleading tone in her voice. It's cute, but Alex doesn't (want to) fall for it. "Please? I'll even throw in a pastry of your choice."
Alex looks up again, just in time to see her waggling her eyebrows in a near-suggestive way. Damn straight girls. She wants to say no, knows that saying no is the only option. But she likes coffee. And she also really likes pastries. And she really, really likes Piper.
"Let me close up."
Dammit.
Piper rambles as they walk down the streets of the city, slowly, as if they have all the time in the world. Alex is aware that it's a Friday night and that they both probably have places to be; Alex, with Nicky at whatever bar she and Lorna decide to head to tonight (whoopee) and Piper, with her boyfriend. But at the moment, it seems to Alex like there's no place Piper would rather be than with her, walking to a coffee shop while the sun sets behind them. She talks about her best friend and their soaps (?), about college and some of the books she's read (Alex is impressed, not by the college but by her choices in literature), and how she wants to do something exciting, worthwhile. She's smart enough, however, to keep from talking about Jew-fro or Larry or whatever his name is, as if she has some secret, instinctive knowledge that Alex is gay and has a low-key crush on her.
"I just want to travel, you know? I read about all these places and I just want to go there and see for myself and make my own story," Piper finishes, breathless and impassioned.
"I can understand that," Alex replies, surprising even herself with her honesty.
Piper smiles, and when she does, it's wide and genuine and open. Almost intimate. "Maybe we can go together."
Alex's walls go up immediately and she arches her eyebrows challengingly from behind her glasses. "Yup. On my floral shop salary and your soap sales, we're rich enough to travel in style."
She laughs, although Alex catches (or imagines) the briefest glimpse of disappointment in her eyes. "I like you, you know that? You're so easy to talk to."
Alex feels like she's flying and falling all at once, but neither of them are necessarily bad. All she feels is Piper next to her, her eyes on her and her body warm. Sirens go off in her head, telling her to stop, not to fall for it, but she's stupid and bullheaded and impulsive and ignores them. So she lets it happen, does it for the story, for the memories, even if it'll fuck her up.
She smiles, knocking her arm against Piper's, their fingers brushing accidentally (kind of). "You're not so bad yourself, kid."
Nicky is furious when she finds out Alex and Piper have been hanging out. After having coffee together, Piper began stopping by more and more frequently, hanging around the shop when there was nothing going on, taking Alex to lunch when she got the chance, and coming by when the shop was about to close to help Alex with closing duties and then go to a bar down the street. Alex takes her to the most fantastic places she can think of; they go stargazing on the Brooklyn Bridge, they take midnight walks in a deserted Central Park, she pulls a few strings and gets them into the most exclusive Chelsea nightclubs. After three weeks of Alex's once-seemingly-endless bag of tricks, she finds herself at a loss one Friday night.
So she thinks (and avoids Nicky's glare as she does her eyeliner in the mirror) and finally comes up with something that's both Not Boring and Worth Alex's Time. Part of her is actually alarmed that she had to put some effort into planning something for them to do. After all, impressing girls and being smooth is what she nearly lives for. But Piper's…different, and not just because she's straight. Alex can feel herself growing more and more attached, but she's still not doing anything about it, despite what her brain (and Nicky) is telling her. When she finishes her makeup, she looks back and inspects her reflection. Mirror-Alex is smirking confidently at her, her glasses perched on top of her head and her dress loose and light, fully prepared for a night out. But Mirror-Alex also looks exhausted, ready to give up and forget about Piper.
Real-Alex decides that's a stupid idea, and takes Piper dancing anyway.
They don't go to one of the grimy clubs Nicky is always dragging her to when she goes through one of her brief Trying to Get Over Lorna phases. No, instead Alex whisks them off to some dance hall in Manhattan, where the band plays swing music and couples twirl each other around all night, everyone smiling and laughing and drinking. It's a beautiful hall, with golden walls and twinkling chandeliers and mirrors on the ceiling. When she leads Piper inside, her jaw drops and her eyes go wide, dreamy. Larry's obviously never thought to take her somewhere like here (Alex: 1 Larry: 0). For a moment, she just stands there breathless, watching the partygoers whirl around the room, lost within the music and each other.
"Well, don't just stand there," Alex grins at her when Piper snaps her gaze away from the dance floor. "C'mon."
She extends her hand and offers it to Piper, who looks somewhat suspicious at first if Alex is being honest with herself. But then something seems to come alive within her and she takes Alex's hand and lets herself get swept up in the music, the hall, the night, the whole damn thing. Alex holds her close, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other still holding Piper's hand. She's used to leading, and Piper is clearly used to following, so they fall into a rhythm that grows with each note. Alex twirls her around, noting with satisfaction the thrilled look every time Piper comes back into her arms. They sway their hips together in perfect time, the fabric of their dresses flying together as one. Piper laughs openly, freely, the most spontaneous and loose that Alex has ever seen her (she catches Alex off guard once and dips her. Not bad.). The music is upbeat and lively, and they move just as fast, though it feels like every move is practiced and gentle, beyond the bounds of time. The mood changes, though, just as they really get into it, and the band switches to a slower song. Piper freezes instantly, stopping short and colliding with Alex when the song begins.
"You all right?" Alex steadies her with a gentle hold and looks down at her fondly.
"Yeah," Piper replies, her face flushed. "Let's just take a break."
They find an empty spot along the wall and lean up against it, their shoulders brushing every now and then as they try to catch their breath. Alex preoccupies herself with watching an uncoordinated (ie. stupid) couple as they step on each other's feet and count the beats together, marching like soldiers. She turns to Piper, a laugh playing on her lips and a joke on her tongue, but as she turns, Piper comes crashing full-force into her. Her hands reach out and grab Alex's face, slamming her lips against hers with such raw need that for just a brief second, Alex forgets to be elated, forgets to kiss back. But then (somehow) her brain starts working again and she remembers to sweep Piper off her feet with her kickass, second-to-none kissing. She snakes an arm around Piper's waist, pulling her closer and moans into her mouth when she feels one of Piper's hands twisting through her hair. As if by their own accord, her hips grind against Piper's and her tongue dances its way into Piper's mouth. Fireworks explode in her vision and Alex swears she's going to jump Piper right then and there. And she knows that Piper would be so damn okay with that, because no one kisses like that if they're not into it.
Basically, it's all going great. Until it isn't. Piper pulls away just as quickly as she'd started, a horrified expression on her face (as if kissing Alex was truly terrible and she wasn't the one who had initiated it in the first place). And then, like the typical straight girl she is, she turns and runs away. Alex's jaw drops, her lips still tingling from their kiss, and she struggles to find her voice. She knows calling out to her is worthless, because 1) Piper's already out the door and 2) she wouldn't turn around anyway. Alex knows better than to call for her, than to run out the door and try to catch up with her. But she also knows better than to fall for a straight girl and that didn't go so well, did it? So she collects her bag (and her wits) and stumbles out onto the street.
But Piper's already gone.
Alex doesn't hear from Piper for two weeks. Though part of her is still bitter at being abandoned after such a bangin' kiss, the other part still wants Piper in her life, which sucks. But she's still Alex Vause and she's still tough and mean and she won't beg for Piper to talk to her. She won't try to chase after a straight girl who's bad for her and clearly doesn't want her. Besides, she's never the one who texts first (but Piper's already broken so many of her rules, so Alex isn't sure she can trust herself). Just to be safe, she locks her phone in the back room when she's at work and gives it to Nicky when she's at home. Nicky hasn't been as awful as Alex thought she would be. She offers to take her out to lunch during her breaks and brings home pastries from Alex's favorite coffeehouse. But Nicky's kindness eventually runs out (around the same time that Lorna comes running back to her) and Alex feels herself growing more bitter by the day.
On the eve of the third week of Piper's silence, Alex is reclining in the back room of the flower shop with a sandwich from the deli across the street when she hears her phone chime. She knows it's probably Nicky and she can only imagine what the text would say. Bring home bread, asshole. Or maybe, Lorna's coming over so get out ;)
But when she gets up to grab it, it's Piper's name that flashes across the screen. Alex pauses, her thumb hovering over the screen. What would a text from a straight girl after two weeks of silence even say? Probably something along the lines of Hey! Sorry I kissed you and then bailed but we should still be friends because you're great plus you take me on better dates than Larry does and pays! But I'm still straight! Alex has never allowed herself to even think about associating with a straight girl, yet somehow they had ended up all the way here.
Disgusted by herself and her poor life decisions (starting with even taking this stupid job), she tosses her phone aside again and turns back to her sandwich. She had already decided that Piper wasn't good for her and now she has to be strong, to cut the cords like she had done so many times before with so many other women. Something in the back of her mind nags at her, screaming Piper isn't just any girl. But she ignores that, too.
She falls into a new routine. She wakes up, brews coffee (three cups, because Lorna's around more often all of a sudden), goes off to work, ignores the daily text and call Piper sends her, goes home, and broods in front of the television until Nicky and Lorna come home and kick her out of the living room. Her days are categorized by three truths: 1) Lorna makes better brownies than she remembered. 2) Piper is more tenacious than she anticipated. And, her personal favorite 3) she truly, terribly wants Piper back in her life. She scoffs whenever she catches herself missing Piper, tells herself to go out and find someone else. But she never does, can't bring herself to move on. She takes turns being angry, agitated, and confused over Piper, over the fact that she can't let go but at the same time won't give in and speak to her, over how she doesn't know why she's feeling this way.
One day, she wakes up and finds that a shattering realization stares back at her in the mirror. Mirror-Alex is in love with Piper. And Real-Alex thinks she is, too. But still, Piper's texts and calls remain unanswered.
After a full two weeks of simultaneously ignoring and loving Piper (and four weeks after their kiss), Alex is back at work, her phone securely locked away in the back, a novel in her hand, and a cup of coffee on the counter. The day has been slow, as usual, and she only has fifteen minutes before she can lock up for good and head home. But, of course, the bell above the door rings, shattering the peaceful silence and Alex's hope that she'll get home before Nicky (and therefore have the rights to the TV for the night). Alex looks up, an eyebrow poised for a challenging glare.
"Hi."
Piper is smiling at her like nothing is wrong, like nothing has changed, like Alex is just as thrilled to see her. There's a certain fakeness around the edges of Piper's smile, a flickering nervousness in her eyes, and Alex just arches her eyebrows in response. She fixates her most neutral expression on her face, burying her real emotions (a killer cocktail of surprise, anger, and anxiety) below the surface.
"Why are you here?" Forcing herself to sound bored, she flips a page in her novel lazily.
Piper strides over to the counter and lowers the novel from Alex's hands. Alex's eyes snap up to meet Piper's and she allows a small smirk to flash across her face.
"You have my attention," she says, leaning back in the chair and folding her arms. She sets an unwavering gaze on Piper, who fidgets under her stare for a moment before thrusting her chin into the air and regaining at least a semblance of composure.
"I broke up with Larry," Piper announces.
Alex's ears perk at that and she sits up a little straighter in interest. For the first time, she takes notice of how haggard the blonde woman looks. Dark circles rim her eyes and she isn't presenting herself as elegantly as she normally does, all perfect gold waves and carefully coordinated outfits and gentle touches of makeup. She thinks of her phone locked up in the back room, filled with unread texts and unanswered phone calls and her heart clenches.
"Really?" She catches a slight waver in her voice, but if Piper heard it as well, she says nothing.
Something animalistic flashes in Piper's eyes and she slams a fist on the table, her chest heaving.
"Cut the crap, Alex," she hisses, her voice deadly. "I broke up with him because I want you. I've been trying to talk to you for weeks and all you've done is ignore me. I came all the way down here to try to work this out with you and you still act like none of this matters."
Alex feels a familiar surge of defensive anger build in her chest and she rises to her feet, easily towering over Piper. "I'm the one acting like none of this matters? You were the one who kissed me and ran! If I'm not taking this seriously now, it's only because you never have!"
Unlike in most of Alex's past arguments, Piper doesn't back down. In fact, she squares her chest and forces herself to stand taller to meet Alex's gaze, leaning in closer to make her point all the more clear.
"I was taking it seriously!" There's something almost whining in her voice, but she clears her throat viciously before continuing. "You were important to me! I was just…afraid. I'm not now."
She takes a deep breath, looks down at the counter, twists her hands together. When she looks back up, her eyes are disappointed though her face reveals nothing (her mask rivals Alex's own). "But I'm too late, aren't I? You've moved on, right? I can't hurt you."
Alex barks out a half-laugh. "You're wrong, kid. You fucked me up pretty bad."
"I didn't think I could," Piper murmurs.
"Yeah? You were wrong." Then her voice softens and she tilts Piper's chin up to look at her. "The thing is, I knew better than to get involved with this shit. But I did anyway."
"Do you regret it?" Piper asks, her eyes meeting Alex's and holding her gaze.
"I don't want to regret you," she admits and instantly feels vulnerable for saying so. She can practically feel her mask cracking on her face, feel the emotions leaking out for Piper to see. Yet, it doesn't feel wrong.
Piper reaches across the countertop and lays a hand over Alex's, her expression fond and full of depth. "Then don't."
Then she leans in and closes the little remaining distance between them with a firm, certain kiss. Alex responds eagerly, in a relieved, almost desperate fashion, and while part of her wishes her emotions hadn't been so exposed, she doesn't care anymore. She finds she can't lie to Piper, can't hide from her, and that's strangely okay with her. After all, Piper has already broken so many of her rules, so many of her usual tricks and defenses, that it's too late to really consider retreating (which is fine by Alex, as long as she gets to keep kissing Piper).