Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
This is my first ever fan fic and English is not my first language. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you want the story to continue? It's just exploratory writing regarding how Alex and Piper first met and how their relationship evolves from the first night in the bar.
No Turning Back
Chapter 1
"Who are you?"
"My name is Alex."
We all have defining moments in our lives. Moments that you can return to in memory and pinpoint exactly when things altered course. It was like I could feel my life changing in that very moment. Like the moment a train moves onto a different track, the moment of choice at a crossroads. It wouldn't matter how much I looked back after that moment, my life was heading in a sudden different direction, and at the end of that road was Alex Vause.
I had walked into the bar set on finding a job. Polly had finally convinced me that anything was better than nothing if I was ever going to escape my mother's controlling attitude. She couldn't have a financial hold on me if I was making my own way, and the less control she had, the better.
It would be easy. Polly and I faked a resume, she as my reference. Manager Polly Harper. How could I ever think that anyone would fall for that? But it was worth a try. How hard could waitressing be anyway?
I probably lost a bit of confidence when I approached the bar tender, thinking he would see straight through me. I faltered, just slightly, and that's when I heard her voice for the first time.
"Hey you. Laura Ingalls Wilder."
Could that be me? Did I look old fashioned? I couldn't help myself from turning though, curious and drawn to the voice that was calling out over the relatively empty room. I turned and the moment I lay eyes on her my breath caught in my chest. Please tell me it was her speaking. And then she spoke again.
"We're skipping America before the apocalypse. Wanna come?"
Yes. Yes I do. It was like her voice was luring me into a different world already.
Just then the bartender approached me. My whole conversation with him was just a blur. I could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Apparently they were not hiring and leaving a resume was not going to lead anywhere, so with a burning hope that other opportunities that presented themselves in the bar might lead somewhere, I ordered a margarita.
"It's a little cold out for a margarita, don't you think?"
Suddenly she was standing next to me, and I just stared at her like a complete idiot. So many witty comebacks raced through my mind but none of them reached my lips. My lips, her lips, I couldn't help my eyes drifting to their brilliant red. Stop staring! What are you doing? Why was I incapable of playing it cool when I needed to? I swear she could read everything I was thinking as it was probably plastered on my face. Come on Chapman, you're a Smith grad. Think of something to say. Still nothing. Just blatant staring.
She picked up the resume off the bar. Oh shit, please don't read that… I could feel the embarrassment grow inside me before she even started reading. Out loud.
"Let's see this."
She read through the resume, immediately calling me on the bullshit that filled the page. Was I that transparent? If I couldn't even fake a resume how was I going to hide the feelings that were rushing through me at the closeness of this woman?
"Safe, clean and careful when handling food and drink…"
I grabbed the paper from her, trying to hide my face behind my hand for a second until I realised that this would obscure my view of her. All I wanted to do was look at her, even though she was laughing at me.
"I like that in a woman."
Sorry, what?
"So what else do I need to know about you?"
I could actually feel my mouth hang open. Was she flirting with me? Really? Was all the fun she made at my expense to get me worked up and to react? Because if that was her intension, it worked. I was definitely worked up. But for a whole bunch of other reasons. She could make fun of me all she wanted. As long as she kept on talking to me.
Somehow my brain started functioning again, at least enough to ask her what her name was.
"My name is Alex."
Alex. The name rested easily on my tongue. I needed to know more about this Alex.
"And what do you do, Alex?"
"I work for an international drug cartel."
Again, my mouth was hanging slightly open. Did I hear her correctly? Was she playing with me?
She started laughing. Her laughter filling my head, the sound rushing down my spine leaving just the slightest heat to grow in the pit of my belly. She could play with me all she wanted.