A/N: Sometimes the tears come and sometimes they don't.
…
Years go by and hearts start to harden
Those palms and firs that grew in your garden
Falling down and nearing the rose beds
The roots are shooting up through the tool shed
…
He slides the coffee cup across the desk to her: a bid to soften her resolve.
"I've told you, no" Alex says, her eyes still firmly fixed on the computer screen in front of her. "I'm busy that night".
"Busy doing what?" Pete replies, rolling his chair a little closer to hers.
"Visiting an Aunt…"
"Lie"
"Looking after the neighbor's pet Hamster"
"Lie"
"…being abducted by Aliens"
They both laugh.
"Come on Vause, it's my birthday, don't be a jerk" he says, kicking her chair playfully. Alex doesn't reply, just bangs the keys a little harder, hoping her complete lack of interest will make him retreat back to his own desk soon enough. But he doesn't, instead, mentioning the one thing she was hoping he wouldn't.
"She's not gonna be there you know"
Alex swallows hard, unmoved at the admission. Because if she doesn't react, she doesn't care and if she doesn't care, she won't feel. And after all, feeling is what caused this mess in the first place.
"She's at some conference for work" he continues, taking Alex's silence as encouragement to go on. And she doesn't stop him, because it's been two months since she's last seen or heard from Piper, known anything of substance about her life, so she allows herself this small luxury. Grants herself a moment to consume a slice of the minutiae of Piper's life, to feel close to her again in some tiny way.
"Some bullshit marketing thing apparently, all the way over in Utah. Flight's not due back until late Saturday evening, she couldn't get it changed, so…"
Alex turns to face her friend. "So?" she says, raising an eyebrow.
"So….there won't be any dramas if you come….which you will…because you're such an amazing pal…and if you don't…..i'll never speak to you again". He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, bottom lip protruding exaggeratedly.
Alex laughs. "Idiot. Fine, I'll come, just stop pouting, it makes your face look worse than it already is."
Pete grins. "It'll be fun".
Alex isn't so sure.
…
Pete is drunk, Polly isn't.
Alex takes another swig of beer number two and pretends not to notice that Polly's accusatory glances are failing to abate and that it's bothering her more than it should.
By Polly's standards, this would be considered a dive bar; sticky tabletops and fried food served in baskets. The sort of place where dirty fist fights are always brewing in the shadowy corners of the room. But, it's one of the few places that sells the Australian beer that Pete likes and as it's his birthday, Alex guesses, it was a reluctant concession that his wife had to make. Although by the pained expression she's had on her face all evening, it would seem that she's beginning to regret that decision.
"You having fun?" Pete asks her. Although he's stood on the spot, he's gently swaying to a rhythm that only he can seem to hear.
"Well clearly not as much as you" Alex laughs.
"I'm the birthday boy" he says, grinning goofily, before raising his pint glass and toasting himself. "To me!" he says, taking a large gulpful, some of which misses his mouth and dribbles down his sweater.
"Honey" Polly hisses, suddenly appearing at his side, dabbing at him with a paper napkin, "that's cashmere".
"You should put cold water on it" Alex says.
"What?" Polly snaps.
"Cold water, so the stain doesn't set in"
"Thanks, but I think I know what I'm doing" Polly replies, tugging Pete in the direction of the bathrooms and tossing the brunette another scowl for good measure. Alex rolls her eyes, finishes her drink and then promptly orders another. The bartender dumps it in front of her and slides a small bowl of peanuts next to it. She pops a couple, grimacing when she realizes how stale they taste. Rookie error.
Can I have a Margarita?
The words are unfamiliar, the voice isn't and if she's honest, she didn't even need to look up to confirm what she already knew, what she felt as soon as Piper walked into the grimy confines of the bar.
"Isn't it a little cold for a Margarita?" Alex says. She swears she's smiling, can feel her lips being pulled into something resembling one at least; but the hammering of her heart and the pounding of her skull is making this feel less than pleasant and easy.
"I don't recall asking for a side of asshole" Piper replies, her voice steady, unnervingly staid.
"Don't worry" Alex grins, "I only come as a main course".
And then she's laughing. And Alex swears it's the purest fucking sound she's ever heard. And her eyes are dancing in the murky glow of the overhead lamps and she's the old Piper again, the one that Alex didn't break.
The bartender hands her the cocktail, she thanks him lightly and sips it mechanically.
"How have you been?" she asks, when almost all of her drink has been downed.
The brunette shrugs.
"Effusive"
Alex chuckles softly. "You want another?" she says pointing to Piper's glass.
"You trying to get me drunk?"
"For?"
"You tell me?"
Alex watches as she deliberately licks her lips, is mesmerized when she leans over the bar to grab a napkin and there's something about the shimmer of her eyes that seizes her, consumes her so unforgivingly, that for a moment, everything else just stops being.
"So?" Piper continues.
"So….?"
"Where's my drink?"
So Alex orders another, places it in front of the blonde and watches, mouth a little agape, as she downs it one gulp.
"Thirsty?" she asks, slightly bemused.
"Anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions? Now get me another"
And they remain like that for a little while, allowing the patrons to drift around them, drowned in a sea of white noise, until Piper finally cracks the shell cocooning them.
"I left you a message…" She says, her eyes settling on the bar top, forefinger tracing crazy patterns across it, "I said we should talk…you never replied"
The truth is, Alex had been snatching glances at her phone all that weekend, discreetly (or so she'd thought) until Nichols finally elbows her in the ribs, hard, tells her to stop moping about.
"A watched kettle never fucking boils, Vause"
"It's a watched pot jackass, but thanks for the clichéd advice" Alex had replied, not bothering to suppress an eye roll.
So they'd gone to watch a game at a mutual friends, drunk a little too much beer and bourbon, until, feeling a little on the wrong side of buzzed, enough so that the warm fuzziness makes Piper a little too hazy to recollect in any vivid detail (sepia is always much safer) she'd noticed the new voice message icon on her phone. And before she's even pressing it to her ear, she knows precisely whom it's going to be.
Her voice sounds distorted, like she's underwater, but Alex isn't sure if that's because she's consumed the best part of a bottle of liquor within the last hour, or if Piper's been crying. She doesn't dwell on the latter though, because it makes her gut contort in a way that is almost physically painful.
There's some background noise, the clinking of glasses, a dull buzz of voices and Alex guesses she's in a bar or restaurant of some description, phone clutched to her ear in a clandestine fashion, avoiding the prying eyes of Polly, Pete…anyone else that just won't understand.
"You're not there…" she begins, thinking out loud, trying to dull the underlying despair. So she rambles on a little. She's in a place she thinks Alex may like. The beer is good, the décor is vintage and the music decent. "I mean, Pete picked it, but it's even made Polly less uptight I think". And then she laughs, but it feels forced, strangled, like a swimmer desperately trying to hit the surface for air. "Maybe it's good that you didn't pick up…" A raucous laugh in the background stops her dead for a few seconds. Allows her words to hang in the air like a thin morning mist. "I should go I guess" she finally adds and then silence as Alex waits for the automated voice to inform her that it's the end of the message. Except it isn't.
"Alex….I miss you…can we talk?"
And now she's wishing it was the end of the message, because the sharp pang in her chest is telling her that she's struggling to rid herself of this girl. And Alex Vause has always been good at compartmentalizing, putting herself first. Until now: until this girl.
"I just don't fucking get you" and now the melancholy is slipping into something else, something visceral and dangerous, as frustration begins to cloud her words. "You want me to be angry? Well guess what I'm really fucking angry because I love you Alex. I love you and I fucking hate you". And then she's gone, just like that.
And Alex can convince herself the growing nausea is the booze, persuade herself the stabbing pain in her chest was the ill advised walk home in the bitter cold. But the truth is, even sepia is no longer safe. Not when it comes to Piper Chapman at least.
"You just gonna stand there staring, or are you actually gonna answer the question?" Piper asks.
Alex flips a dog eared beer mat between her fingers, watches a woman arguing with her boyfriend just over Piper's right shoulder and wishes to god she was feeling more inebriated then she presently does.
"Fine" Piper finally says, sliding off the bar stool and stumbling in the process. Alex immediately reaches out to steady her.
"Easy there, I think we should maybe get you some water"
"I'd prefer some answers, but I don't think they're available on tap are they?" Her eyes are narrowed, scrutinizing Alex keenly, making the brunette feel like she desperately needs some air.
"What is it you want me to tell you Piper?" she snaps, as they're stood face-to-face, mere inches apart.
"The truth Alex, why you bailed"
"I told….you I…couldn't…"
"Do this any more….yea I got that part, but it doesn't make any sense"
"Not every thing has to fit into your neat little world view Piper". The blonde's eyes visibly widen at the statement, her head rocking back slightly, as if the impact of the words is almost physical.
"Don't you dare fucking do that, don't you dare try and make this about me!" she hisses, cheeks flushed. "I tried everything to try and make this work, you were the one that didn't want to spend time with my friends, you were the one that could barely say a word to me when I called you from the Hamptons…."
Alex turns to walk away, because the words just won't come, won't free themselves from where they're presently trapped in her throat, that she's sorry, that she loves her, that she's never going to fit into Piper's life, there are too many jagged edges for that; a rogue piece of glass. But Piper isn't in the mood to let things go that easily. She curls her fingers around Alex's wrist: firm, bruise worthy even, pulling her back towards her.
"What the fuck…"
"You don't get to do this again, bail on me like that". She's tugging at the collars of Alex's jacket now, roughly, pulling her closer, so she can feel the warmth of Alex's breath on her cheek. And the nearness of her is so delicious and so inviting, captured in a palpable inevitability that neither can begin to explain.
And then they're kissing.
…
A/N: Lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from "Horchata" by Vampire Weekend.
Not sure how many more chapters are in this thing, but hope you're enjoying it thus far. Thank you for all your follows and reviews, they are always much appreciated.