AN: Hey guys, I realize that I already have two stories still going on here, which I don't get to update as often as I'd like, but considering that a lot of the writers on here have gone MIA, I figured that I'd upload the first chapter of this story that I've been working on for a while. Like my other stories, it won't be updated every day, but hopefully it will help pass the time until June 6th, when the second season of OITNB comes out. It's a completely AU story, obviously with Piper being a vet, though Alex is still a drug importer, but I have some grand plans for it.

I hope you guys enjoy it, and let me know what you think.

Better Than Paris

Chapter One

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

I stared at the man before me, his handsome face cringing at my tone of voice; we'd been dating for six years, so he knew the tone and exactly what it entailed. It was my 'I can't believe you're such a fucking asshole' voice, which usually led to my patience and self-control throwing themselves out the nearest window to safety as I let my temper loose with abandon.

"Piper," he started, his forced charming grin crinkling the corners of his chocolate brown eyes in what I once though was an attractive trait. Stupid fucking asshole. "Come on now, sweetheart, we both know that this has been a long time coming. I told you that if I got this promotion that John would want me to move to Paris to watch over the construction."

"Yes, I know," I forced out through clenched teeth, sure that my head was going to explode at any second with the rage that was boiling up just beneath the surface. Oh yes, I knew of Paris, the supposed city of love, and the French language of which I've been taking lessons for the past five fucking months. "I just thought that I'd be coming with you. I mean, I'm the one that stayed up for four days straight, on nothing but instant fucking coffee, to help draw up the design for the stupid building while you binge watched Oprah."

"Oh, honey," I almost slapped the condescending tone right from his mouth as he gave me his sweetest smile. "You were a great help, but you know that you don't really want to leave your job here. You love what you do!"

That was true; I had to concede that point to this infuriating jackass because I did really love my job. I was a vet, but not of just puppies and kittens and your normal household pets, but of the wild animals living in captivity at the Bronx Zoo. I'm damn good at what I do and I love the animals that I get to work with on a daily basis, and the people who I work with and interact with every day, but surely I could get a job at one of the zoos in France. It was fucking Paris, after all, and no woman gave up a possibility to live in Paris.

Just like a man should not ever offer the opportunity of Paris, only to snatch it away at his convenience.

"Michael," I said his name slowly, trying to be as patient as possible, though patience was not one of my virtues when Paris was involved. "I can find a job in Paris. I can be a fucking garbage lady in Paris, I don't really care. I want to go with you."

"Look, Piper," Michael suddenly went serious, leaning forwards on the table between us. "I don't want you to come to Paris with me."

And suddenly, my frustration and confusion was replaced with shock as I sat back numbly in my seat. "What? Why? I mean, what, do you think I'm going to be a distraction or-"

He cut me off with his exasperated sigh, shaking his head as if he was speaking to a child. "No, Piper, I don't think that you're going to be a distraction. Look, I brought you to this restaurant so that you wouldn't make a big scene, but-"

"Excuse me?" The indignation was clearly audible is my voice. "A big scene? What are you talking about?"

"Piper, I'm breaking up with you."

Son of a bitch.

/

"Can you believe it?" I scoffed in complete and utter disbelief and anger. "I mean, seriously, who the fuck does he think he is? 'Oh, Piper, I just don't feel the same anymore.' What complete bullshit, right? I mean, I get that we've been growing up apart lately, but how do you just stop having feelings for someone after you've been with them for six years? There weren't any signs or warnings, just suddenly, 'I'm sorry, Piper, but I don't love you anymore.' What the fuck. What the fuck."

I swallowed thickly, attempting to dislodge the lump that had grown in my throat during my rage fueled tirade as my anger started to simmer down and turn into cold abandonment and heartbreak. Michael and I had been together for six years, six fucking years, even lasting while I travelled for a year and a half through Africa and Indonesia, calling him whenever I was within reach of a phone. I had finally found someone who could put up with my hair trigger temper, my sarcastic sense of humor and my complete devotion to my job, only to find out that he'd gotten bored with me somewhere along the way.

"I just don't get it," I whispered, feeling as if my world was falling down around me. Everything that I had built and planned for had just been completely disregarded by this man that I thought I'd spend my life with.

"Look at me," I sniffled with a choked laugh, reaching up to hurriedly wipe away the tear that had leaked from the corner of my eye. "Here I am, crying over some stupid guy while you're the one who needs comforting. God, I'm sorry, Sam, I'm such a fucking asshole."

I gently ran my fingers through the fur of the ten week old lion cub that rested in my lap, who released a long, shaky sigh in response. I'd left the restaurant after my relationship's loud demise and had taken a long walk around the city before deciding to go to the zoo after hours to check up on my patients. I'd been here since eleven o'clock and had been sitting with the injured lion for the last five hours, taking comfort from the feel of its soft fur beneath my fingers as I ranted and raved. The cub was the runt of a litter of four African lions and had been attacked by one of the males in the pride three days ago, resulting in a large gash across its side and a severe infection. I gently traced a furry paw, smiling slightly as it twitched in response, sharp but currently ineffectual claws peeking out before retracting.

I looked up in surprise, straightening immediately and blinking the tears from my eyes as the door to my clinic opened, though I was hardly shocked to see Nicky Nichols standing in the threshold. Her usually sparkling brown eyes were quietly concerned as she ran her fingers through her unruly mane of hair, not unlike the manes of the lions that were her animal of expertise. Nicky was a zoo keeper who I have worked with for the past three years and who had been my first friend when I started my job at the Bronx.

"Hey, how's he doing?" She asked as she stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"He's hanging in there. With a couple more weeks of antibiotics, he'll be just fine." I smiled in understanding as she came to stand by my side, gently running her thumb over the cub's nose as she studied his sleeping face with concern. While Nicky's exterior was tough, she was a true softie inside, at least when it came to animals. "He's small, but he's pretty strong."

"Like someone else I know," Nicky raised her eyebrow teasingly as she tilted her head to look at me, her expression amused, though I could see sincere sympathy in her brown orbs as she gazed at me. "I got a call a few hours ago from Lorna, who was having dinner tonight with her fiancé at that nice Italian place around the corner; I think you know the one I'm talkin' about."

I groaned, dropping my head back against my chair as I cursed Lorna, one of the zoo keepers who had a close bond with the Asian Elephants and was also the zoo's and possibly the world's biggest gossip. "Fuck, what did she tell you?"

"She said she saw you and your fuckin' boyfriend having a nice dinner, at least that's what it looked like before you stood up in front of the whole room and called him... oh, what was it?" Nicky grinned, closing her eyes as she recited the conversation. "A lying, manipulating, stupid fucking asshole whose dick was the size of a pencil and who wouldn't be able to find your fuckin' clit even if it was the size of the stupid building he was going to build... among other things."

"Yeah, well, you don't withdraw the possibility of Paris from your girlfriend of six years, because you got bored of her." I stated morosely, feeling the ache grow once more in my chest as I gently scratched the cub behind his slightly curved ear. "Especially when I just spent five fucking months taking French classes."

"I'm sorry, Chapman," The shorter woman sighed, awkwardly placing her hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "Look, I've got to go clean up the exhibit while my guys are still asleep out back, but you've got this weekend off, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered, thinking about the empty apartment I'd be going home to, since Michael was currently removing all of his things and would be gone by the time I got home. Maybe I'd do some binge shopping this weekend, spend some of the money that I'd been saving for Paris...

"Well, cancel whatever plans you've got, 'cause Tricia and I are having a party and you're fuckin' coming, okay?"

"Am I going to end up waking up in your bath, feeling like someone knocked me out with a baseball bat again?" I asked, remembering the last party I had attended at Nichols' and Miller's house. I literally remember walking through the door with a six pack of beer at nine pm and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in the bathtub, an empty bottle of tequila cradled against my chest, with some unknown person passed out on the floor with three shot glasses placed upright on their stomach.

One of which was still mostly full.

"Fuck, I hope so!" Nicky laughed, patting me on the shoulder as she walked towards the door. "I promise that I won't let Mercy share her 'cigarettes' with you this time though."

"What cigarettes?" I called out, my only answer being the door closing behind Nicky, with her laughter echoing in the air.

"What fucking cigarettes?" I whispered to myself, forgetting about the broken heart that resided in my chest for the first time all night as I wracked my brain for the memory of that night and the mystery cigarettes I had apparently shared with Tricia's girlfriend, Mercy. Mercy, the always laughing, always stoned-

Oh, crap.

/

My hand trembled as I unlocked the door to my apartment, my eyes fluttering closed as the door swung open, blowing a breeze tinged lightly with the smell of coffee mingled with Michael's distinctive cologne. I took several calming breaths and a few more for good measure before prying my eyes open, my whole body slumping in disappointment at the lack of Michael's presence. I had known he wasn't going to be here when I got home and that his things would be gone, but it felt like a punch in the gut to notice all the pictures that were missing and the baseball cap signed by his favorite player that was no longer resting on the bookshelf. Not to mention his architecture books which were gone and the seventy inch plasma that left a large emptiness before the black leather couch...

Wait a fucking minute.

"He took my fucking TV!" I growled furiously as I strode into the entertainment area, where my pride and joy had once rested on the sleek black television cabinet. The seventy inch plasma that I had paid for with the money I saved up upon starting my job at the Bronx zoo. "Son of a bitch!"

I dropped my bag on the couch before walking into the kitchen, where I slumped against the kitchen island, burying my face into my hands. It had been a long fucking day, emotionally and physically, as one of the chimps had swallowed a pair of keys that some idiotic man had dangled through the cage. I had to put up with a frantic Tricia, who took care of the apes, while surgically removing the keys that had imbedded themselves in the chimpanzee's throat, tearing a hole in its esophagus. And now I felt like that chimp, unable to breathe, but instead of a key imbedding itself in my throat, it was my heart suffocating me.

But Angus the chimp had survived, so at least I knew that I had a chance.

I regained my composure, grabbing a beer from the fridge and pressing the button to my voicemail as I passed, cringing at the 12 messages I'd received.

"First message."

"Oh my God, Piper, I heard about what happened with Michael! I'm so sorry, but I did always say that you were too good for him, didn't I." I smiled at my best friend, Polly's voice as it echoed through my apartment. "But seriously, did you really say that his thingy was the size of a pencil?" Jesus Christ, word really does get around. "Anyway, you need to call me, P! I love you!" Beep.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I sipped my beer, listening to the six other messages from Polly and quickly deleting the four that were from my mother. The voice that echoed in the last message almost caused me to shatter the beer bottle in my hand, I was squeezing it so tightly.

"Twelfth message."

"Hey, Piper, it's Michael. I just wanted you to know that I've accidently left my good black suit hanging in the closet. I was just wondering if you could send it to my mom's house? I'd really appreciate it!"

I closed my eyes, biting my lip before slowly and deliberately deleting the message and leaving the kitchen. As I made my way to the bedroom, I once again noticed the empty space on the TV cabinet and gritted my teeth. Sure, I'd send Michael's mother his good, three thousand dollar suit.

After I cut it into a thousand pieces.

Stupid asshole.