Sarah leaned back into the couch as they sat there, silently sipping their drinks. She closed her eyes for a second as the burning liquid trickled down her throat, temporarily distracting her from the painful memories of the day and weeks preceding it. She felt Alison shift slightly beside her as the other woman placed her empty wine glass down on the coffee table. Her eyes were glazed; glassy but not tearful. She hadn't cried yet.
"You ok?"
Alison turned her head, her eyes widening slightly as if broken from deep thought.
"Fine." She nodded, averting Sarah's gaze. "Just fine."
Sarah sighed as she brought the glass back up to her lips, draining the remaining whisky.
It had been Cosima's idea to throw a memorial for their fallen sisters, one year on from Beth's suicide. Sarah still remembered the incident in precise detail; the faraway look in the detective's eyes as she came face to face with yet another copy – a sick parting joke.
Alison had been quietly encouraging, but kept her distance from the actual organization of the memorial. It was unlike her, Sarah noted. Cosima had subtly evaded giving adequate reasoning as to why this could be, but Sarah had noticed the sadness and recognition behind the scientist's actions towards Ali. She was being kinder, less sarcastic and more understanding. She knew.
After the memorial Cosima had left with Delphine and Tony, the three of them now sharing a place not too far from Felix's loft. Felix himself was fulfilling his role as uncle and spending the evening with his niece. Sarah somehow knew how hard Alison was taking this, despite her vehemently protesting otherwise, so invited her back for a drink. She didn't think seeing Donnie tonight would make any of this easier.
Alison gently touched her own cheek, her eyes glazing over once more as the soft music from the stereo filled the silence of the room. She was trying to keep it together. She had been for over a year now, and it never once got easier. Not for a second.
Seeing her face in that portrait by the grave…so different from the others. So beautiful.
Alison's hand slowly slid from her jaw, landing back in her lap with a soft thud. If she started crying now, she may never stop.
Sarah slowly ran her fingers through her hair, leaning forward to rest her head on her knees. Alison tilted her head slightly as she regarded the other woman. Her eyes were drawn to the spot behind Sarah's ear. A sharp pain pierced her chest for a moment as the dim light from a nearby lamp accentuated the shine of a rosy pink scar beneath her tousled mane. Without thinking she slowly reached forwards, ghosting her index finger along the tender flesh.
"Alison, what are you doing." Sarah's muffled voice was tired and worn, but she didn't raise her head.
Alison squinted slightly as she traced the contours of the pale pink scar, her heart rate increasing as memories of the detective flooded her hazy consciousness.
"Beth had a scar just like this." Alison always had a matter-of-fact tone, but this statement was laced with something else.
Sarah raised her head a few inches, her warm buzz fading slightly at the tenor of Alison's voice. She pulled herself up and turned her head; her clone's soft fingertip remaining on the spot behind her ear.
"I know." Sarah's reply was uncharacteristically soft. "That's how Paul figured out I wasn't her."
A slight frown graced Alison's delicate features as her eyes slowly fluttered closed.
"Paul." The word dripped with bitterness. Alison's finger carefully slid from the other woman's skin and Sarah immediately missed the contact. It was gentle, comforting.
A few moments passed as they once again sat in silence. There was a strange tension in the air as Alison's eyes re-opened and remained fixed on the floor, her eyebrows knitting for a second.
"He never loved her you know."
The softness of Ali's voice was heart-breaking. Sarah had always suspected there had been more to Beth and Alison's relationship, but the sadness laced in her voice all but confirmed it. She had loved her.
Sarah sat quietly as her eyes searched the other woman's face. They were all so alike, yet each wore their own distinct brand of misery.
Alison's had been cloaked in a veil of shame and secrecy ever since learning of Beth's suicide, and for months before that. Kissing your genetic identical. Exploring the soft contours of a body so alike your own, but an entire universe apart in the way it made you feel. The way her gentle yet strong hands tugged at your perfectly tousled hair and slid cautiously between your wanting thighs for the first and last time. The way you pushed her away when she'd show up drunk and needing affection, afraid of being caught by your husband or children or anyone. Her voice breaking the very last time you spoke…
Alison used to remember nights with Beth so vividly it was like replaying scenes from a movie. But ever since the 2pm vodka binges and her 'little helpers' coercing her into a dreamless slumber every night, the images and memories had dissipated into a tangled mess of blurred sadness and want. As much as Alison wanted to forget and move on, it was quiet moments like these in which she yearned for the chance to smell Elizabeth; to taste and touch her just one more time and let her know how truly loved she really was. That she had something to live for after all.
Sarah slowly leaned back into the couch, her eyes remaining fixed on Alison's sunken form. She generally wasn't the best at handling intense emotional situations, but there was something about Alison's stillness and unsteady breathing that made her want to try. She had never seen her like this.
She leaned forward for a second, grabbing the wine bottle from the table and pouring the last of the dark red liquid into Alison's glass.
The other woman pursed her lips. Her eyebrows knit together as she closed her eyes for a second, a contentious thought seeming to pass through her mind.
Alison let out a breath as she abruptly turned her head to look at Sarah. She waited a beat before turning her body around on the couch and pushing herself into the other woman. She let out a ragged breath as her arms swung up around Sarah's neck, burying her face into her shoulder.
Sarah's eyes widened for a second and she forgot how to move, her body unaccustomed to any kind of affection from Alison. She let out a breath as her arms finally responded; cradling the woman, who seemed smaller somehow, in her arms. She turned her body slightly to get a better hold on Alison, whose hands were now sliding up the back of Sarah's neck. She ran her fingers through her thick hair while holding her close.
Sarah's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of perfectly manicured nails gently raking across her scalp. She couldn't help but lean into the sensation as she felt Alison's skilled hands softly kneading her tender flesh. Her eyes remained closed as she felt the other woman shift her body closer, her thighs now either side of Sarah's hips. An unconscious shiver ran down her spine at the feeling of Alison's breath on her neck, then by her ear.
"Please."
Alison's voice was a whisper. Sarah had never heard her ask for anything before, especially not in the way her lips were now ghosting the side of the punk's neck, causing an unfamiliar tremor to creep down her spine and pool between her thighs.
"Alison…what are you doing."
Sarah repeated her earlier question as the other woman's hips slowly moved against her. Her eyes drifted closed as Alison's soft lips found the edge of her jaw; silently caressing their way down the hard ridge.
Sarah could feel her heart-rate increase as she gripped the material around Alison's waist. She knew this was a bad idea – the worst – but the other woman's rose-stained lips were painting closer and closer to her own and the intense pull to the core of her stomach and slight whisky buzz were making it difficult to think clearly.
"I'm not her."
Sarah's whispered confession was lost as Alison's insistent lips finally found her own. Her nails raked the length of the other woman's spine, cradling the back of her head as she sucked Alison's bottom lip between her own. Her whispered words were swallowed whole, dissipated in the vacuum between wanting lips.
A quiet moan escaped Alison's lips as Sarah's parted mouth became more insistent, her warm tongue begging for entrance as Ali's thighs widened instinctively. She grabbed a fistful of tangled brunette hair as the intensity of the kiss and the familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach sobered her mind for a brief moment.
She doesn't taste like Beth.
Alison pulled back for a second as Sarah's roaming hands rounded the contours of her ass. Her tight black dress was restricting further friction
Her hands aren't like Beth's. Her voice, even her lips…
Alison took a ragged breath as she shifted forward again. She didn't care. This was as close as she was ever going to get.
Sarah's eyes remained closed as she gently lifted the other woman up for a second, hooking her fingers underneath the hem of her dress and slowly sliding the material up around Alison's waist. She could feel the heat radiating from between Ali's thighs. Sarah swallowed thickly as the other woman lowered herself back down, positioning her legs either side of Sarah's thigh. She could feel the wet heat of Alison's want already present through her lace panties. It was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn't stop now if she wanted to.