A/N I probably won't make many Author Notes, because honestly I tend to skip over everyone else's, but I just wanted to thank all the Ballie lovers for following this story, and for the kind reviews. This was just an idea I had to feed my obsession, and I am thoroughly enjoying getting into Allie's head. Oh, I also feel I should mention, I don't personally have a problem with Jackson, but I can see how Allie would. Jealousy is a bitch! BALLIE4LIFE ***

Allie remained confident that warning Bea was the right thing to do, even after Kaz jumped all over her after the botched attack. She expected the scrutiny, so she had come up with a hopefully believable story about getting pulled in for a random drug test. What Allie didn't expect, the one thing she never anticipated was the screws dragging a kicking and screaming Bea Smith past the other prisoner after she knocked the shit out of Mr. Jackson.

What parallel universe had Allie fallen into? Without knowing Bea's motives, and even with Allie starting to soften towards Jackson, she still wished she could have seen that shit. From the looks of it, Bea went all Femme Fatale on him. Fucking hot, Allie mused.

With Bea in the slot things went to hell quickly. Girls were getting feisty. Hell, even the new girl pressed the forbidden panic button, when Juice and "her boys" tried to attack her in the showers. It was easy to see just how much control Bea actually had, when in her absence fights broke out over random shit like bacon.

The drama seemed to please the Freak, who told Allie, "It's like a jolt of oxygen. The Top Dog is in the slot, the woman can finally breathe."

"She'll be out soon enough," Allie defends, not wanting the Freak to get any, say, freaky ideas.

Though Ferguson continued to speak to her as if they were friends, Allie didn't really want any part of it. When Allie sat on the couch in their block, book in hand, planning on a relaxing afternoon, she was asked where Kaz was like it was any of the Freak's business. Allie had enough.

"Her Dad just died, she wants to be alone." Allie stretched out on the couch, picking up her book. Hell, she wanted to be alone too, and as far as she knew her Dad was still alive.

"She did seem a bit discombobulated out in the yard."

Allie couldn't hide her distaste, even if she tried. "Yeah," she acknowledged, before she returned to her book.

"Were they close?"

Damn, wasn't opening a book the universal sign for leave me the hell alone?

"I'll give you some advice, Joanie, never ask Kaz about her old man." Allie raised the book even higher, effectively blocking herself from the Freak.

With everything in chaos, it was really no surprise when the bunk inspection began. Allie wasn't concerned, she had nothing to worry about. Until that fucking screw came out of her room with a bag of gear. Before he could say a word, Allie argued, "Bullshit, that's not mine."

Having been clean for so long, and knowing how Kaz feels about the shit, Allie headed towards her surrogate mother. "Kaz..." When the officer grabbed Allie, she tried to jerk free. "Get the fuck off me. Kaz, it's not mine," Allie insisted. Surely Kaz believed her.

When the screw got more aggressive and began to manhandle her, Allie screamed out in pain, "Ow!" Flailing around, she continues to yell, "Fuck off!"

When the officer tried to subdue her with a choke-hold, Allie bit into his arm. This wasn't her first rodeo.

When the first guard ducked away in pain, another screw caught Allie off guard and pinned her arms behind her back. Still kicking and screaming as he drug her away, Allie tried one more time to reach out to her mother. "Kaz, it's not mine," Allie begged her to understand, but Kaz didn't say a word.

Just before Allie was drug out of Kaz's sight, she looked at Ferguson in time to catch her smirk. Wait, what?

Allie continued to yell as they drug her into the isolation cell. Admittedly her little show might be the reason they had such a painful grip on her, but she was too pissed too stop. "You're hurting me. It's not my shit, you fucking pricks."

As they threw her into the slot, she tried one more time to yell, "It wasn't my gear," but they just told her to shut up and slammed the door. Leaving her all alone. Sober, since it really wasn't her fucking gear, but still all alone. No one trusted a former junkie.

Allie didn't know how long she sat by herself on the edge of the thin cot trying to figure out why exactly the Freak would do this to her. Surely, it was the Freak. Being in Kaz's crew, and having at the very least a solid acquaintanceship with Bea, Allie didn't really have any enemies, at least not ones that would do this.

She was still trying to figure it out when Bridget, the prison psychologist, came through the door. Allie wasn't impressed. Bridget was cute and all but, she was no Bea and Allie didn't do therapy.

Instead, Allie jumped up and walked towards the window she was barely tall enough to see out. "I don't need to see you."

"My presence is mandatory I'm afraid."

Allie spun around, "And I don't suppose you'd give a shit if I tell you the drugs weren't mine."

"Okay, look Allie, you do have a history with addiction."

Allie groaned but looked Bridget straight in the eye and said loud and clear,"I'm not using again."

"I believe you." Bridget agreed, if not just to pacify Allie. "But it can be a struggle to stay sober and I have some strategies that can help you..." Allie rolled her eyes before walking back to her bed and climbing in. Bridget raised her voice to finish "Prevent slipping back into addiction."

Allie rolled her eyes again. What don't people get? "I don't need them. I got my own strategies, and they work just fine for me."

"Do you mind sharing them with me?" Bridget asked, as smoothly as Allie thought was possible.

Jesus, does this stuff really work on people? Allie guessed it did as she found herself answering, "Bea Smith."

"Aha, her anti-drug policy. So, is it the fear of the Top Dog's wrath that keeps you clean?"

Allie laughed, thought about what Bridget really said, then laughed again. "Shit no, it's not fear."

Getting serious for a moment, Allie continued. "It's her strength. What she did was a real inspiration to us, I've never seen anything like it." It was the truth. That drive to fight back, despite the circumstances, sealed the deal for Allie; Bea Smith was the poster woman for redemption, an inspiration to women everywhere if not just the Red Right Hand.

"I'm not sure I can use a convicted murderer as a role model for my counseling sessions, but I'm glad it worked for you," said Bridget, part of that civilized society Allie knew wouldn't understand.

So, Allie just laughed and said, "Good, I can keep it to myself then, our hot little secret." When in doubt, always fall back on flirtation.

Some time later, while Allie was eating dinner on her bed, a throaty voice she would know anywhere asked, "If they weren't your drugs then whose were they?"

Fuck! Allie's body froze, but her mind went a million different ways at once, and she finally choked out, "Bea, you're in the next slot?"

"No, I'm in a penthouse overlooking the beach. Yeah, I'm in the next slot."

Allie's mind scrambled as she tried to remember everything she had just said to Bridget. Putting her tray down, she got up and walked to the vent before squatting beside it.

She must have taken too long to answer because Bea spoke again. "You told Westfall it wasn't your gear."

It had been days since Allie talked to Bea and she had more pressing things to discuss than that fucking gear. "You know, I gave you the heads-up to save Mr. Jackson from getting a bashing, not so you could give him a beating."

"Yeah, can you just answer my fucking question," Bea snips. Ooh, sore subject.

"It was planted in my cell, I think by Ferguson. Do you believe me?" Allie hated how small her voice got just then, but the lost little girl inside her needed someone to believe in her. No, scratch that, she needed Bea to believe in her.

"Do you think that Ferguson knows you told me about the attack on Mr. Jackson?"

"I don't know. I think she just wants me out of the way so she can get a clear run at Kaz."

"Why? She's already got Kaz in her corner."

Allie shrugs, not that Bea can see her, and says, "I don't know. You know her better than I do."

If she had listened to Bea earlier, would she be in this mess now? Who knows, Allie surmised.

"So, what is it with you and Kaz? Why would you get involved with someone like that?"

Allie instantly took offense. "Someone like that?" In Allie's own eyes, she was someone like that.

Bea didn't back down, and instead said, "Yeah," encouraging Allie to just answer the question.

Allie exhaled loudly and sat back, her mind going to a different time. She wasn't sure she could put into words what Kaz meant to her, but she could try. "Because she was kind to me. Because she's the only person that has ever given a shit about me. I was at a women's shelter where Kaz was volunteering and I was a mess. She took me under her wing, and she got me off the gear. She held my head, and wiped the toilet when I spewed. She cleaned me up when I shat myself. I love her. I owe her my life."

Bea didn't have to like it, but Allie hoped she understood. When Bea made no objections, Allie considered the subject dropped.

After they sat in silence for some time, Allie heard a couple almost knocks on the wall before Bea spoke again. "I'm not who you think I am. Killing Brayden Holt wasn't an act of strength, it was hatred. Pure revenge...how's that for inspiring?"

"But it was. It was," Allie insists. Hell, even Bea didn't get why she was so amazing.

Bea scoffed loudly. "God, I don't want to be the reason you don't shove crank into your veins, okay? I don't want that responsibility."

Fuck, she did hear everything. "Hey, all that stuff I said to Westfall...it was bullshit, you know?" Allie really didn't want to scare Bea away now, not when they were finally getting somewhere. "You got to give the shrink something to get them off your back, right?"

"Sure," Bea thankfully agreed.

As the night went on, they talked about everything from her Dad kicking her out when he found out she was a lesbian who worked as a prostitute, to how she survived on the streets, with Bea nicknaming her AllieCat. AllieCat, huh? Allie figured she liked that, especially coming out of Bea's mouth.

Though they were locked in the slot, away from everyone else, and not even allowed to see each other, Allie had one of the best nights of her life. Rapping a ridiculous bar about "Motherfucking ho, go with the flow, bitches be mean."

"Cuz we're wearing green," Bea finishes. At that, Allie laughed hysterically. Bea questioned with childlike wonder, "What?"

Allie cackled and said, "It's teal, dickhead."

They continued to talk as the sun rose, Allie having made a pallet on the floor in front of the vent, hours ago. When Bea opened up about her daughter, telling a cute story about a snail motel, Allie felt her heart expand.

When Debbie was involved, shit just got real, and Allie just had to know. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me more about Debbie."

"What do you want to know?" Bea asked.

"Everything," and the thing was Allie meant it. She could listen to Bea talk about anything, but when she talked about Debbie, damn, each story held so much love, so much meaning, it was beautiful.

Allie wasn't sure when she passed out, but she woke when Bridget opened the squeaky door and leaned above her spot on the floor. "Morning, you'll be spending the day in the psych ward today, Allie" Bridget happily greeted, like she was offering tickets to Disneyland. What a way to wake up.

"Why?" Allie asked, for a moment forgetting the events that led her to the slot in the first place.

"Relax, its standard procedure following an officer assault, come on." Oh yeah, that.

As they passed Bea's room, it was like slow motion, only it wasn't slow enough as Allie finally got to see the woman that was slowly seeping into her veins. Their eyes locked as both smiled. Allie could have fainted.

What she had before was like a celebrity crush, okay maybe a celebrity obsession, but this, this was something else entirely. Allie had never been so swept away, so deeply involved with someone without even having kissed them. And the thing was, she wouldn't trade a night like last night with Bea, for any of the nights she had with women in the past, no matter how many times she came. This was more than a physical attraction. She felt Bea in her soul, and it was starting to scare the shit out of her.

After spending an enlightening day in psych, Allie came back eager to talk to Bea. She fidgeted nervously at the door, watching the guard walk away. When he was finally gone, Allie called out to Bea a couple of times with no response, before she started to rap, "Yo, DJ AllieCat, Wiggity Whack, Novac emcee, calling out to Bea, prison rap Queen, how you been? Yo."

When Bea still didn't respond, Allie damn near begs, "Bea, why won't you talk to me...Bea?"

"Shut the fuck up will ya, I'm trying to sleep...and so is Juice," Bea roared, like a knife in Allie's heart.

Allie's head fell back, as she sat on the floor in shock. After she thought about it a minute, that might have been code from Bea, but fuck if it didn't still hurt. After the night they shared, going backwards pained her more than Allie anticipated.

Allie lay her head back against the cool concrete, berating herself for her Bea-induced excitement. What did she really expect? One night talking to Bea, and suddenly all her dreams would come true? Life wasn't a fairy-tale, especially not Allie's. Allie sighed, resigning herself to another lonely night. This life she knew too well.