Piper stares at the address written down on this scrap of paper, the bold scrawl of letters and numbers to a house she barely recalls – they were always sneaking away from their homes after-all, running fast from the prying eyes of a small town – and only the opening and closing of the front door shakes off her reverie and she tucks this secret behind the hem of her skirt.

It doesn't have to be a secret from her husband, it truly doesn't. If she were to tell him that Alex Vause is back in town, he'd furrow his brow for a minute but then he would remember the woman; he would dig up recollections of Piper and a dark-haired girl, always waving at each other in the hallways, and didn't they all used to hang out a lot back in those days...?

On the surface of things, there is no reason why Piper can't tell Larry about the passing of an old friend's mother and how she wants to be there, to comfort and to help. He would smile at her affectionately and nod his understanding head, he would approve because Larry Bloom is a good man.

But of course, the surface is as far as Larry has ever gotten with Piper anyway... and Alex – and all that Alex represents – goes so much further than that.

And Piper kisses Larry, sweet but chaste, and she busies herself with getting supper ready, his voice lighthearted as he asks how her day has been and then complains a bit about his own and all the while a tiny piece of paper burns hot at her waist.

/ /

They don't talk much at first, Alex in a haze of sadness and Piper twisted up by awkwardness, but a warm chuckle breaks the silence and Piper looks up from her box of dishes wrapped up in newspaper to find Alex grinning just a bit at a stack of records.

Alex glances over at her and lifts up one of them up, a 45 of 'Bye Bye Love' that looks a little worse for wear.

"She kept all of them, every single one I ever bought before I left..."

Piper watches as Alex tilts her head downward once more, as a thousand memories cloud her features, and Piper catches the tightening of the woman's jaw, as if the tide of sorrow can be fought by force. And it almost broke Piper's heart to see Alex weeping at her mother's grave, but she thinks that perhaps this sight is harder to take and she wants to badly to mend what has been torn asunder.

The loss of a mother.
The agony of denied love.
Everything... Piper wants to fix everything...

"Play it."

Alex looks over at her again, eyes shimmering despite the pains taken to avoid more tears, but that grin is still there – shaky but persistent – and Alex clears away the mess around the record player and soon enough the static hum of the needle against the grooves turns into the tender harmonies of The Everly Brothers.

The song fills up this otherwise quiet room and somewhere in the middle of the chorus, Alex begins to softly sing along and Piper feels her own eyes start to sting, but Alex is smiling at her and so these familiar words fall from Piper's lips as well.

"...bye bye love
bye bye sweet caress
hello emptiness
I feel like I could die
bye bye my love
good bye..."

/ /

More records are played and more boxes are filled up with Diane Vause's life and Alex talks some about where she lives now, about some of the places she has been when she was on the road, and Piper soaks up the sound of Alex's voice and tries to imagine the colors of everywhere that Alex has been, tries to picture herself in these places with Alex...

...but that fantasy turns all too quickly to what Piper cannot allow, leaving her keen and anxious at the same time, and so Piper tells her head to stop imagining all together.

Alex shares a photograph that tumbles down from the pages of a book, a ruddy-cheeked Alex held in her mother's arms – both of them giggling as if the camera isn't there – and Alex reminiscences about the jokes her mother used to tell, about the tall tales she used to regale Alex with, about all the silly games they would play and all the made-up adventures they would go on when Alex was a child.

Alex shares the story of her mother all afternoon, revealing so many moments that no one else knows about, and Piper...

...oh, all Piper can think about is kissing Alex until neither one of them can breathe.

She's almost glad when the clock chimes from the wall, letting them know that four o'clock is here and that Piper needs to go in order to arrive home before Larry. And Alex hasn't asked if Larry knows that she is back in town, if Piper has told anyone about any of this; Alex hasn't asked anything beyond that one half-hearted inquiry at the diner yesterday.

And maybe that's for the best, that's what Piper chooses to believe, because if Alex asked... well, what could Piper possibly say in return that wouldn't end up saying everything she's trying so hard not to say?

But still, at the door, Piper says she'll come back tomorrow and there's a flash of something in Alex's gaze, an awareness that speaks volumes, and Alex leans towards her, pressing those lips gently to Piper's cheek.

"See you tomorrow, Pipes."

Voice low, hot against the skin, and then Alex shuts the door and Piper...

...oh, all Piper can think about now is tomorrow.

/ /

The problem, or at least the most current problem, is that Piper just might be a little bit tipsy.

. . .

She arrived three hours ago to a wide open front door, a portable radio playing loudly, and Alex sort-of singing, sort of humming along to the song with a cigarette held loosely between her fingers.

Okay, Piper thought it was a cigarette at first, but one whiff of the air told her differently. And maybe she has spent her whole life in this tiny, backwater town, but it's not like she doesn't know a thing or two about the world – especially with a best friend like Polly Harper. Piper recalls that one night during senior year, in the basement of some other girl's house, and they all marveled at what Polly held in the palm of her hand.

"Pete got it from a boy who lives on his street."
"What is it again?"

Polly rolled her eyes at the girl, affecting an air of far more superiority than was real.

"It's a spliff, Debbie. Geez, pull you head out of the sand."

Alex spots her just standing there and shuffles her way over, half-dancing while half-avoiding the clutter on the floor. She is close enough for Piper to see the lazy sheen within her gaze, close enough to see a thin stream of blue-tinged smoke slip past Alex's lips. The woman offers up the joint with raised eyebrows.

"No thank you."

Alex rolls her eyes, too, but it is far more convincing then the one that Polly delivered all those years ago. But Alex doesn't look truly put-out, she just takes another drag and then motions for Piper to follow her to the kitchen. And there on the counter is a nice collection of bottles, most of them near to empty, but a few still look sealed up tight.

"Pick your poison."

And Piper tells herself that she doesn't have to drink anything, that it would be smarter to not drink anything, but Alex is smirking at her, an unknown challenge lurking around those dangerous corners, and so Piper opens up what appears to be a rather dusty bottle of red wine. She raises a full glass and Alex raises her joint in return.

"To Diane."

And Alex's voice is warm as they smile at each other and Piper lifts her glass a bit higher.

"To Diane."

. . .

Tipsy, yes, and quite possibly high – that's the most current problem that Piper is facing. Not that she smoked any of that joint, which Alex seemed to make last forever, but the smell of it is everywhere and maybe that can affect a person, too. Maybe she was high that one time with Polly and forgot about it until right now.

"Are you done with that stack of books?"

Piper turns her head and suddenly realizes that she is on the floor and she laughs a bit, okay maybe she laughs more than a bit because Alex is peering at her – all upside-down – and that's just funny.

"There was that day when we were in the creek, you know, the creek, right?"
"Mmmhmm..."
"And you pulled me in. It was cold and that was nice."

Piper blinks slowly, not sure if what she said has made much sense, but by the time her eyes re-open, Alex is beside her – propped up on her elbow with her face framed by pitch-black hair, grinning in a manner that Piper knows so very well – and Piper cannot stop herself from shifting closer, well, it's more like rolling closer, but she gets there in the end, there beside Alex Vause, right where she is meant to be.

"Piper Chapman, are you drunk?"

The words seem to brush against Piper's ear, as if she can actually feel them, and maybe she can because Alex is so close, so very very close, and it takes nothing at all for Piper to reach up and slide her fingertips across the smooth surface of Alex's skin – the forehead, the ridge of the nose, the jawline – and it takes nothing at all for Piper to kiss Alex because goodness knows that's what she's been wanting to do all along.

And all the faded images of her youth that she tried to forget, all the sensations she tried to bury within the folds of a wedding dress, it all comes back to life again – the feeling of Alex touching her, the taste of Alex against her tongue, the trembling wonder and the need that rushes through her blood – it all comes back to Piper now, vibrant and wild and it is love, it is so much love that Piper thinks she might drown in it.

Alex is the one who puts a stop to things, the two of them breathing heavily once they are apart, and Piper doesn't want to stop, she wants to keep going, she wants all of Alex, but Alex is shaking her head and moving away and Piper is pretty certain that she actually whines in complaint.

"We, uh... We can't do this, Piper..."
"But why not?"
"Because. Because it's not right, you've had almost a whole bottle of wine and you're not...", and Alex sighs as she runs her fingers through her own hair, "...you're not mine anymore."

Of course, Alex is wrong and right at the same time, and Piper is a little tipsy and maybe a little high, too, but she knows who she wants, she's always known, and if this is all they'll ever get, then Piper is bound and determined to show Alex the truth that she's had to deny for so long.

The ring is easy to slip off her finger, easy to set aside, and maybe the marriage cannot be taken back, maybe there's a good man out there who still thinks that his wife truly adores him, but Piper's heart has always belonged to just one person.

"I'm yours, Alex. I've been yours since the day we met and I'll probably be yours until the end of time and I love you, you know? I love you so much-"

But Alex's lips steal the rest of whatever she might have said and maybe Piper didn't need to say anything else anyway, not really, not when they both tumble backwards – Alex pressed so deliciously against Piper's body, those unpacked books knocked over in their wake, the two of them kissing recklessly as hands begin to wander...

...and maybe they are saying all that matters right now.

/ /

[tbc]