AN: Hello folks, here's installment two. It's set between the first time Alex sees Piper in the bar and before Sylvie catches them together.
I'm not sure this is going to be a really long fic, so may just be a handful more chapters, but I'll see how it goes.
Thank you as ever to those that read, follow and review, I really do appreciate the time and effort and it's always great to hear your thoughts.
Once again, thanks to 'imissedyourpatronage' for her assistance.
So here's chapter 2. Enjoy.
Post Piper Chapman; that's how she's viewed everything for the last couple of weeks. Something extra punctuating her thoughts, sending her focus awry.
Mule numbers are dwindling, Sylvie's grip on her life tightening and yet Alex finds herself writhing, eel like, against the current.
It's dangerous, she knows that and Northampton isn't great for lying low, especially now that College is done with for another year. Shadowy bar corners no longer seem to conceal her and there's an ever-decreasing number of clubs within which she can seek refuge.
And the girls they come and go, they always do. Chloe and Eva and Maxi and Freda: a promise on their lips, wanderlust on their minds.
It's another Wednesday, in another bar, delicate lips pressed to her ear:
Mexico is something I've always dreamed of…
A red head; pretty, smiley and petite. But tonight, Alex can't play the game. The rules have changed. And it only takes a second for her to realise when that shift occurred, when the planes of her life started to re-align.
Post Piper Chapman.
…
She's reading, or at least she's trying to, except Sylvie is making it as hard as humanly possible to concentrate. Skittish movements circling Alex, under the pretense of searching for her travel documents.
'Fuck's sake Sylvie' Alex says, slamming the hardback down onto the coffee table, final threads of patience fraying, 'they're not here. They weren't here ten minutes ago when you tossed all the contents of the drawers and cupboards onto the floor and surprisingly, they still haven't magically appeared, so can you please, just get out of my fucking face for a few minutes?!'
The words tumble out rapidly, fiercely, like steam escaping a whistling kettle, but the relief is fleeting, because she knows what's coming next and she's not sure she can tolerate another evening of it.
'Why do you have to be like this?' Sylvie replies, like some hapless, wounded animal and all it serves to do is make Alex more resentful of the situation. But Fahri's words are weaved into the fabric of her consciousness and she knows she can't do anything too drastic, she's not in a position to rock the boat…not just yet.
So she sighs instead, scrambles up from the chair and in to the kitchen, pouring a large measure of bourbon into a coffee mug and gulping it down so quickly she can barely taste it. But Sylvie is still on her tail, appearing in the doorway: the harbinger of doom.
'You shouldn't waste the good stuff like that' she says, pointing at the now empty mug. She pauses and the lines of her face become softer, her voice a little sweeter, 'I mean, least you can do is pour it into a tumbler, right?' She reaches across Alex to a cupboard above the brunette's head and pulls a glass out, fine crystal glistening in the fading evening light.
'I'm good' Alex replies, turning away.
'What does that mean?'
'It means I don't need a tumbler'
'Ok' Sylvie says, placing the glass on the counter top, her eyes still firmly fixed on Alex.
The brunette refills the mug with more booze and she knows that it's making a statement of sorts, but quite honestly she's not sure she can bring herself to give a fuck, at least not enough to quit being an asshole for a minute or two. Besides, this is still within the parameters of the 'rules'. Fahri can't get pissed at her.
Maybe.
She stuffs a hand into the pocket of her jeans, a thumb running over the outline of two pills nestled together in a plastic bag and it makes her cheeks feel warm, her blood hum in anticipation. And suddenly she's fighting the urge to find a bar some place, but not for work. Not tonight.
And what do you do Alex? Besides making fun of strangers in bars…..
She'd given Piper her number, scrawled it across a napkin in bleeding, blue biro. And it had seemed like romantic frippery at the time, the very best kind, they both had fucking cell phones after all, but paper is disposable…feelings less so….
Sometimes.
'Will you come with me to the airport?' Sylvie says, sharply fracturing her thought process.
'It's a standard issue run…you'll be fine' Alex replies, necking the fresh contents of her cup. A warmth begins to emanate from her stomach, radiating slowly through her veins.
And now the back of her neck begins to prickle, a sheen of restlessness settling on her skin; these walls won't be enough to contain her, not this evening.
'Call me when you've done what you need to ok?' Alex says, pushing past Sylvie and into the hallway.
'Where are you going?' Sylvie shouts after her, her voice splintering, so the end of the question morphs into a strange screech.
But there's no reply; just the slam of the front door;
And silence.
...
It's when she first visits Fahri's apartment that Alex really dares to dream. It's disgustingly opulent; unapologetically lavish and it sort of sends her sick that she's slightly in awe of it all.
But Diane is still clocking in and clocking out, snatching sleep whenever life allows. And her blood pressure is up, mood low:
(The ebb and flow of the under privileged).
'Aim big, worry small' Fahri tells her with a grin, his words velvet, dissipating like a thin mist around them.
'That simple huh?' Alex says.
'It's as complicated as you want to make it'.
'I have a choice?' she says half laughing, but not meaning to.
'Always'.
He takes a seat next to her on a couch. And Alex can't help but think it's probably worth more than the entire contents of Diane's trailer.
'You've got potential Vause, I know it….and you know it, you've just got to let go'.
'Let go?'
'You are what you make yourself: nothing more, nothing less'.
'So what are you?' she asks, eyes narrowed.
'Happy'
'Truly?'
He barks a laugh. 'Show me one person that says he's truly happy and I'll show you…'
'….Kubra?' she smirks.
'Touché…..' He pauses, voice a little gentler, more human… 'like I said, potential'.
'I'll take that' she says, feeling surprisingly buoyant. Because it's only Monday and she figures, she's got this.
…
The Jazz band is piss-poor; polyrhythms amiss, swing note non-existent, but the beer is good and strong and the barman is barely perfunctory. This suits Alex just fine, because tonight she's trying not to think, to engage, to be anything more than the minimum that's required of her.
'Melancholy in your eyes, blues as your backdrop….some might say you're a terrible cliché'.
There's a playfulness to her a voice, a lightness that suddenly lifts Alex out of the secluded bubble she's been sat in for the last hour.
Piper.
'Says the girl flirting with a stranger at a bar' the brunette replies turning to face her companion. She tries to keep her voice even, her manner staid, but suddenly everything seems sharper, brighter…..new.
The blonde leans in close, her breath smells sweet, intoxicatingly inviting. 'I'm not flirting…..and you're not a stranger'
'One out of two aint bad kid'
'Are you gonna at least offer me a drink?' Piper says.
'What's the hurry?' Alex laughs, 'we have all night'.
…
Alex is good and drunk by the time the band has finished its set, the bar virtually deserted and then Piper kick-starts the jukebox.
Everything always seems better with music.
And Billie Holiday sings about how she can't remember a worse December, but Alex finds herself thinking the opposite; the onset of winter has a newly acquired luster.
'You like Bille Holiday?' Piper asks, sliding back onto the bar stool, her knee pressed into Alex's thigh.
Intentional?
Alex's thoughts are a little too smudged around the edges to analyze the blonde's actions any further. So she just smiles and nods. 'Of course' she says, 'she's classic'.
'Hey' Piper says, suddenly sitting up, eyes bright, smile wolfish, 'you wanna dance?'
'Dance?'
'Yes'
'Here?'
'Why not?'
'Well I could give you a whole list of reasons'
'But you won't' the blonde grins, already offering her hand.
And Alex knows that she's right before she's even taken it.
…
The jukebox must have stopped a while ago, although Alex can't pinpoint when, only that Piper Chapman is pressed close to her, her fingers weaved through the blonde's own as they sway to something that only the two of them are party to.
'You never did tell me….' Piper says breaking away momentarily.
'What?' Alex replies, watching the shimmer of blue, a light ripple on an ocean surface.
'How someone like you winds up working for an international drug cartel'.
Alex laughs, it's low and raspy and wet. 'It's a long story kid….'
'Well, you did say we had all night'.
…
When the bartender's (limited) goodwill runs out and he decides to close up, they find themselves shivering under a stoop of a bookshop across the road, watching fat, apocalyptic rain-drops burst and smatter as they hit the sidewalk.
'What was your plan for tonight?' Piper asks, moving a wet tendril of hair out of her eyes.
Alex shrugs, 'I didn't think that far head, just needed to get out of the house'
'You have to work tomorrow?'
Alex can feel the buzzing of the phone in her coat pocket. 'Yeah…I guess…' She wants to sound casual, like she has some plans, but they're not set in stone, just in case….
'I can show you around Smith…if you're free…' she quickly adds. After all, a caveat is always good.
There's a pause.
Longer than Piper would like…
Intentionally added by Alex…..
'It's a beautiful building…..' the blonde continues hesitantly.
The phone is still buzzing and that's never a good sign. It's probably Sylvie, trust the dumb bitch to fuck something up. And the thought of work and her obligations gives Alex a sharp jolt of reality, the veneer of inebriation cracking.
'I've got to go…I'm sorry' the brunette says. And she knows that it probably sounds abrupt, rude even, but quite honestly she's no idea what she's doing with this girl; only that this evening will melt into dawn in a couple of hours and she's not sure how to feel about that, or how she even wound up here. It would be so much easier if she were planning on recruiting her.
Easy come; easy go.
But Piper is neither of those things; Alex knows that already.
And the blonde can't hide the disappointment in her 'Oh'. Alex pretends not to notice. She can't mask the shock in her eyes. Alex has pointedly turned away.
'See you around' the brunette fires into the gloom, as she turns to make her way back into the downpour.
And then she's gone and Piper's left thinking; she never did much like Billie Holiday anyway.
…
A couple of days pass and Alex is with Fahri in a café downtown. 'I nearly went into the coffee trade you know' he says, tossing back his espresso.
'Well why didn't you?'
'You know what they say….crime pays'. He laughs, pauses, as if he's waiting for Alex to catch up with the joke, or at the very least acknowledge it, except she does neither, her eyes hovering around the counter.
'Hey Vause…Vause!' he says clicking his fingers in impatience.
'What?' Alex replies, turning back towards him, pretending that she hasn't just locked eyes with Piper Chapman….that the blue didn't look quite as icy as she thinks.
'What's up with you? Been using a little too much of your own product?' he grins, 'you seem….a little out of it'.
Alex shakes her head, 'no…nothing like that…just I forgot…gotta run some errands'
'Errands?'
'Yeah, you know….like house stuff'
'Fuck Vause, don't tell me you're turning into Martha Stewart?!'
Alex flips him the bird. 'You're a first rate comedian you know' but her eyes have already flicked back to Piper, following her out of the door, coffee in hand.
'Hey listen, I've got to go' she says bolting out of her seat, 'I'll call you later' she adds as she shrugs her jacket on.
'Alright' he sighs, 'just be careful ok?'
But Alex already knows it's too late for that.
…
She doesn't manage to find Piper again until the day after.
Alex is sitting idly at the bus stop opposite Smith, hissing into her phone at Sylvie. She's moaning about having to get a cab back from the airport, angling for Alex to say she'll pick her up, but Alex has zoned out, her stomach swirling uncomfortably any time she thinks she spots a blonde anywhere near the college building.
But it's not her…never her.
She finally rids herself of her caller, hanging up mid-way through Sylvie screeching about how unreasonable Alex is being. And seconds later her cell is buzzing again, waspish and persistent and she's one frustrated scream from tossing it into the road, when she realises the caller ID isn't displaying Sylvie's name, it's a number she doesn't recognise.
So she answers it, breath caught in the back of her throat, feeling 12 again, a little shaky, naked without her usual cloak of bravado.
'I didn't think camping out at a bus stop bench was your style' she says. It's soft and warm: a delightful beam of sun.
'Piper' she says, almost singing her name.
'12 o'clock…..see you in a minute'.
Alex's eyes dart up to the corresponding spot on a would be clock face and sure enough, the blonde is stood there and without even thinking about it, Alex is up and walking, at barely less speed than a jog, a goofy grin plastered on her face, something warm fluttering in her chest.
Because the whole afternoon is theirs; and Alex suddenly realises, that's all that matters for now.
