A/N: Hello! I'm glad everyone liked the last chapter. Loved several of the reviews, a lot of insightful comments. For instance, when a guest reviewer mentioned Ali's line about wanting attention and how that could've easily been applied to herself, accurate! Also, from that dressing Emily in the wig was very similar to dressing her up as doll and how it represented her control over her, especially given that the hair was blonde, very astute! And, of course, this was also a fantastic review response:

"EMISON ON X? FUCK ME I WASN'T READY FOR THIS TWIST OF FATE"

As well as:

"When are they going to fuck? :("

Wish granted! Enjoy.


They were still dancing, for how long Emily wasn't sure. The lights were mesmerizing, the music was resonant. Time seemed impossible to gauge. All she was aware of were Alison's roaming hands, at first around her waist, then her neck, now under her arms. They trailed around Emily's shoulder blades, touching, searching, while Alison gazed down at Emily's exposed midriff. She looked eager to touch it. Emily wondered if she was slowly working up to it.

It was strange to think that not long ago they'd been arguing, that Emily had felt incredibly antsy and upset. But what had felt like sandpaper between them before now felt smooth, like silk. She didn't feel anything negative. She didn't even feel like the same person. She felt complete. Content. The ecstasy had washed away the anger, and not just from tonight, from always. Everything sad felt happy. Everything painful felt pleasant. It was as if everything she hadn't understood before had become clear, and the future was beautiful, promising. She felt cleansed and cured.

She watched Ali, basking in the combined sensations of her touch and the drug. Her eyes flicked over the slim blue of Ali's irises, the color looking even more acute under the influence. She looked at her nose, her lips, her scar. Her own hands were lazy and relaxed, running over the material just above Alison's waist.

"Can I touch your face?" she found herself asking, a hand already raising from Ali's hip, her body humming.

Alison looked up at her quizzically.

"Your scar," Emily clarified. "Can I touch it?"

Ali nodded slowly, and Emily's hand wavered before she slipped her fingers over her cheek. Emily had cupped her face before, in the bathroom years ago when they'd kissed, but that been before the fire. Alison hadn't been burned yet. After, when Emily saw photos of Alison, she would wonder if the scar would be ridged and rough. She brushed her thumb across it, mapping its surface, realizing it was somewhere in between. Alison fluttered her eyes closed, soft and compliant, like a cat getting scratched under its chin.

"Why were you watching me?" she asked, surprising Emily as she opened her eyes again. Her pupils looked a bottomless black, like Emily was staring down, about to drop a stone into a deep well.

"When?"

"Tonight and earlier in the car," Ali answered, her voice sounding dreamy and not like herself. "You look at me so strangely sometimes."

Emily took a moment to consider her answer. Why did she watch Alison? How could she explain that she just had some sort of weird magnetic pull? Didn't everyone feel that way when they saw her?

"I guess I wanted to talk to you," Emily answered hesitantly. "I want to know you."

"Well," Ali started, moving her hands from Emily's upper back to her the unclothed portion of her lower back. When her fingers made contact, Emily's spine tingled. "What do you want to know?"

Emily only swayed with her, thinking, what did she want to know? Why hadn't she realized before it could be this easy? She could've just asked Alison anything. She felt like every problem before had a simple solution, like she had taken a blind fold off and was seeing for the very first time.

"What's it feel like to kill someone?" Emily asked.

Realizing what she'd said out loud, she glanced at Alison. She wasn't so much afraid of her reaction as she was curious, but Alison only looked back at her calmly. She even smirked slightly when Emily caught her eye.

"You tried to kill me," she said, that strange quality still in her voice. An airiness, a bouncy sort of happiness.

She turned in Emily's arms, pressing her back against Emily's front as she slowly and provocatively slid down her body. On her way back up, she took Emily's hands in hers, they were richly warm, heavenly soft. With Emily's chin resting on her shoulder, Alison turned her head so that her cheek was close to Emily's while she ground against her to the beat of the music. It felt magnified to Emily, zoomed in, overpoweringly intense. It was as if it was lasting forever but lasting no time at all.

"You thought you killed Tabitha," she continued pressing into Emily, sinuous and serpentine. "What did that feel like?"

Emily remembered Tabitha, then. Her pale blonde hair, her Ali-like disposition. She'd had burns, too, all up and down her arms. Emily had been so convinced it was Alison when she'd watched her fall backwards into empty air, down onto the beach. She'd seen her lying there on the sand, motionless, doll-like, and Emily had felt a pitch of anxiety and adrenaline. She'd thought Alison, real Alison, was dead. She thought they'd finally killed her. And she'd felt relieved.

She'd felt guilty about that for a long time, that she'd been happy another person was dead. But it had all been in vain because Alison was alive, here, and writhing against Emily. And, strangely, Emily wasn't upset about that like she usually was. She was even happy Ali was alive. Their long, destructive history… it all seemed silly, unnecessary now. Why couldn't they just be like this? Connected? Calm? Safe? Why couldn't they just forgive each other?

She tried to remember, pushing up the sleeves of Alison's dress, touching her upper arms, swishing her palms back and forth over her skin like the rough sweeps of a paintbrush. Then, she did remember the reason. It clouded her wonderful euphoria to think about it, even if only a moment.

"I guess what I mean is…" Emily paused. "What did it feel like? Killing your own sister?"

At that question, Ali turned to face her, placing her hands on Emily's shoulders and digging her fingers into the muscle. She stood close, mere inches away, sharing the same oxygen, same breaths of air as Emily. Emily expected her to be angry, but she looked open, sincere.

"I wasn't going to do it," she started, her face shifting into something Emily had never seen. Remorse? Shame? "I wasn't going to kill her."

Emily stared at her, watching the vulnerability wash over Ali's features. It was so different than how guarded and methodical she normally was. And, because of it, Emily trusted her. All of the fear or anxiety that might've warped her reaction before, it just wasn't there. She didn't feel inclined to judge either herself or anyone else for that matter. In the moment, she believed that everyone could be good, even Alison.

"She said she'd switch back," Ali continued, looking distant. "She begged me, and then I—then I just couldn't do it."

Ali's eyes furrowed, and she looked far away, elsewhere. She distractedly scratched the back of Emily's neck with her nails. It felt amazing to Emily, she never wanted her to stop, but she needed to refocus on what she wanted to say next.

"But you did do it," Emily prompted.

"I did," she agreed after a moment. "Nick showed up."

Emily watched Ali closely, hoping she would continue. Outside of the letter, she'd never heard Ali share details about Courtney. It was like glimpsing a rare and beautiful creature at night. Emily didn't want to move for fear of scaring it away.

"I've never told anyone that," Ali said quietly, looking back at Emily, ensnaring her with those big, black eyes.

"What?" Emily asked.

But Ali had shifted past that conversation point, swaying with the bass of a new song. Her movement was hypnotic, and Emily became aware of her own hands again, which were wrapped tightly around Ali's waist.

"Did you know my sister tried to kill me when we were younger?" Ali asked, pressing her fingers up Emily's neck and into the length of her fake blonde hair. "She tried to drown me."

Her Alison? Emily thought hazily. Her Courtney trying to hurt her twin sister?

"That's why they locked her up. Just tell the truth, she'd said," Ali mimed, Emily was enticed by the liquid movement of her lips. "'The truth will set you free.'"

Emily tried to imagine that, a sibling of hers trying to kill her. The thought of the two sisters at each other's throats, even when they were young, just seemed so sad.

Emily cupped her cheek again, bringing Ali's eyes back to hers.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

Ali looked at her strangely, as if she were seeing and touching and feeling her for the first time tonight. She looked suddenly somber.

"You know I would never really hurt you, right?" she said seriously, those eyes twinkling. Her finger traced a line down Emily's cheek and jaw. "I would never kill you."

For some reason, Emily believed her, even though she shouldn't. Even though Ali had definitely tried to kill her more times than Emily could count on one hand. She just felt too connected to her. Like all of this had been one colossal, cosmic mistake.

Before she could share as much, all of the stage lights changed to a bright neon green. A heavy mist began to descend and build on the dance floor. Both Ali and Emily looked around, trying to spot the source of the fog, but it was quickly forgotten as Emily felt the vapor cool and wet on her skin, exquisitely pleasant. As it collected around them, the bright lights lancing through it, Emily could see no one but Alison.

Ali moved closer, pressing her body against Emily's, as if the cover of the fog was exactly what she'd been waiting for.

"Do you ever wonder what you're actually capable of?" Ali spoke against Emily's ear, one of her hands sneaking up and under her shirt.

Emily was only vaguely aware of the question as Ali's nails grazed over the clasp of her bra. She shivered despite herself. Between the fog and Alison, it felt like she had goosebumps everywhere.

"The people in this bar, they've never been tested," Ali continued, her voice husky, her breath warm. "They haven't been pushed. They don't know who they'd become with a gun held to their head."

Not like us, Emily sensed Alison had wanted to say. Because Emily once had a gun to held to her head. Ali had held it there, and Emily wasn't the same after.

"Who did you become?" Emily asked instead with a shudder. Alison's other hand had swept across her stomach, kneading lightly into her abs.

"Something else," Ali answered honestly. Emily felt her breath move to her neck.

She couldn't think of a response. Ali's fingernails were still tracing patterns over her bare skin, leaving her breathless. Which was an odd feeling with the ecstasy. Now that she was breathing harder, she became conscious of how weird it felt, how incredible, like something warm and wet was expanding and contracting inside her.

Alison pulled back slightly, and Emily opened her eyes to see her leaning close, staring at Emily's lips.

"I wish it had been me that you loved," she said.

Emily heard it, but it was difficult to process. Alison had said things like this before, but never to this degree or with such openness and authenticity. She'd never taken it seriously. Did she really feel that way?

"Is that why you did all those things to me?" she asked.

"I think I did it to get close to you," Ali answered frankly. "Maybe I was testing you, and now you're not the same. You're like me."

Am I? Emily thought.

Were they the same? They had each been through so much. And they were both certainly different now than when they had started. Maybe together they could get back to who they were supposed to be. Maybe they needed each other.

Emily lifted a hand to Ali's face again, pushing her fingers behind her jaw, to the soft downy skin behind her ears. She watched Alison bite her lip as she glanced down to Emily's mouth again. She looked so focused, so attentive, like no one else existed in the world except for Emily Fields. Ali angled up towards her mouth, but Emily noticed that the mist was clearing. People would see them.

"Hey," she said, causing Ali to pause and open her eyes. "Can we go somewhere else?"

Ali glanced around, too, remembering where they were. A new upbeat song also started, and the party began to rage around them again.

"Okay," she said, taking Emily's hand in hers.

Emily pulled Alison by their conjoined hands, snaking their bodies through the hot and sweaty crowd. Luckily, no one paid them any attention. Which was good because Emily wasn't sure where she was going, she was slightly disoriented from all of the lights and sounds. But then she found herself pushing through two double doors leading to the club's large, expansive patio.

She hesitated for a moment, Alison lingering behind her. It was a lot colder out here, but it felt great on her skin. Stark and brisk. There were also outdoor heaters, so it wasn't as freezing as it would normally be. Which was probably why it was almost as crowded out here as it was inside. There were several groups of mostly wispy gay men and standoffish looking girls. They huddled in circles, clutching cigarettes while clouds of smoke plumed above them like small chimneys in the winter.

Emily stared at the cigarette held by a man close by. For some reason, the idea of smoking sounded amazing. It had been awhile, and normally Emily didn't like the habit, but she wondered how it would feel on her tongue, in her mouth. The taste of the smoke, even, seemed delectable.

With Ali's hand still in hers, she approached the guy, who turned to look at her curiously.

"Can I bum one?"

"Sure," he said with a slight smile, reaching into his back pocket. He held the package out and Emily took a cigarette eagerly. She stared at it a bit too long, feeling the paper press against her fingers.

"Love your hair," he said.

Emily looked up, confused for a moment.

Oh, she thought. She'd forgotten about the wig. How was that possible that she'd forgotten? But then she smiled a huge smile. It was normal for her to be so happy about a compliment, right?

"Thanks, that's so sweet of you," she gushed.

"Do you need a light?" he asked, looking charmed by her.

"That'd be great," she replied, dropping Ali's hand. Was everyone always this friendly? She should really talk to people more.

She held the cigarette to her lips as he sparked the lighter. She watched the flame flicker yellow and orange and pulled the smoke through, feeling the burn in her throat. It felt delicious.

Once it was lit, she held the cigarette to the side and pulled the stranger into a bear tight hug. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd hugged someone. Why did she stop? It felt so good.

"You're a life saver, thanks," she said, pulling back.

The guy laughed. "It's just a cigarette."

Emily was going to say that it was so much more, but she was interrupted by a hand sliding back into hers, guiding her away. It was Ali, who was only smiling at her, but Emily turned and waved goodbye and proceeded to talk Ali's ear off about how great people really were.

Ali listened patiently, leading them up a flight of stairs and stopping halfway up. While they paused, Emily took her first full drag on the cigarette.

"Oh my God," she said aloud. It tasted so good. It was burning and paper and smoke and nicotine. There was even something dry and earthy about it.

She looked at Ali as she blew a smoke ring. Ali had leaned against the brick wall across from her, watching her with that same amused smile. Her eyes followed the smoke ring as it expanded, and Emily vaguely wondered if Ali would taste as good as the cigarette.

"Did you ever love him?" she asked instead. She flicked the ash from the cigarette down and away.

"Who?" Ali asked, her heart-shaped face looking innocent and beguiling.

"Nick."

"Oh," Ali said with a not so subtle roll of her eyes. She leaned further back against the wall, kicking a foot out so that an ankle rested between Emily's two legs. She looked up at the starless night sky.

"He told me that when it was all over I was going to be his captive, his prisoner," she explained. "But I didn't want to go anywhere with him."

"You didn't answer my question," Emily said after a moment, after another drag, another ash flick.

"I thought I was," she conceded, her eyes glazing back over Emily.

"Thought?" Emily asked.

"You don't know what it's like to be locked up," Ali said slowly. "You don't exactly have the luxury of choice. All you have are your dreams, and all you can do with those dreams is share them with someone else. It becomes everything."

It was so new for Emily to hear Alison speak freely. She felt like she could suddenly empathize with her pain and sorrow and loneliness. She wanted to squash it, beat it down like an invasive plant.

She blew another smoke ring.

"Can I have a puff of that?" Ali asked, following the ring again with her eyes.

"Have you ever smoked before?"

"No," she admitted.

"Really?"

"I'm not too fond of fire," she said.

"Oh," Emily said, feeling a little stupid. "Of course."

She stood up from the stair railing she'd been leaning against and stepped toward Ali. She thought about handing the cigarette to her, but Emily didn't want it to make her nervous. So, she hesitated. She had an idea, but she wasn't sure if it was a good one. She wondered what it would feel like, though. Wondered a bit too much, a bit too often.

"Open your mouth," Emily instructed.

Ali looked at her inquiringly, but did what she asked without question.

Emily took another long drag of the cigarette, keeping the smoke swirling in her mouth. She closed the space between them, dipping down to Ali's mouth. Careful not to let their lips touch, she blew the smoke inside her parted lips. Neither closed their eyes as Ali inhaled. She coughed slightly, causing their lips to brush against each other. It felt charged, like a strain of electrical current passing between them. Emily pulled back quickly, while Ali exhaled the smoke through her mouth, eyes never leaving hers.

"That tastes how it smells," she said simply.

"Most things do."

Emily watched the tip of her cigarette while Ali stared at her.

"Did you ever love her? Love me?" Alison asked, bringing Emily's attention back to her. Again the hesitant note in her voice surprised Emily. She was accustomed to thinking of her as someone cold and untouchable. And Emily certainly didn't think she ever thought of her.

"I loved a version of you," Emily admitted, rolling the cigarette in her fingers.

She wasn't sure why she felt the need to tell her that, but she needed to talk. And it wasn't like this was something Alison didn't know. She knew her feelings for Courtney. She even knew Emily's feelings for her.

"But I told you that, remember?" she reminded Ali, leaning on the railing again. "You called me a loser."

"I'm sorry," Alison replied, looking legitimately pained. As Emily retreated, she took a step forward, following her.

"I would've helped you, you know," Emily said, still sharing, still talking. "But you wouldn't let me."

"I wanted you to," Ali stated, taking another forward step, placing her hands on the railing on both sides of Emily. "When I came back, I knew you liked her, but I wanted you to like me. But I—I was just angry. Really angry."

"I know," Emily said. And she did. She knew that anger intimately.

"It's funny," Ali admitted. "Because it all feels so stupid right now."

"I know," Emily replied again.

"I wish I hadn't done it."

Emily almost wanted to say that it didn't matter, that it was all forgotten, forgiven. It felt so easy to do that right now. If she could forgive herself for all the mistakes she'd made, she could forgive Alison.

"Can I have another?" Ali asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Emily nodded, taking another pull, trapping the smoke in her mouth. This time she didn't have to lean far because Alison was practically on top of her, already fitting her mouth to Emily's. When Emily was done blowing the smoke, though, Alison didn't pull away. She let the smoke billow out of her mouth and closed her lips around Emily's, kissing her.

Normally Emily might've been surprised or even resisted, but she couldn't. The sensation was too intoxicating, too overwhelming. Alison massaged her lips slowly over Emily's, and Emily reciprocated. The thought was a little insane for her mind to process, but she was kissing Alison back. She knew she should stop, but she didn't. It felt too amazing.

It reminded her that she had a question to answer. So, she dropped the cigarette, took Alison's chin in her free hand, and pulled up gently. Alison acquiesced, her mouth opening, allowing Emily's tongue to dip inside.

What did she taste like? The answer was honeyed, a little smoky, and addictive.

"Fuck, you taste good," Ali breathed, breaking away.

It was like Ali had read her thoughts. Kissing her was like Emily had remembered, but it was also different. Better. This time it wasn't a lie.

She cupped both sides of Ali's face. She wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, she was confident, and so smart. The other things… couldn't they be fixed? Did Ali just need love?

Ali kissed her again before she could finish her thought, this time probing Emily's mouth with her own tongue. It was wet and snakelike. It was dexterous and expert. The kiss became faster, harder. Ali moved her hands hungrily to Emily's hips, pinning her against the railing. Emily could feel her fingers, warm, even in the cold.

"You feel so good," Emily rasped against her lips. "I always want to touch you like this."

"I always want you to touch me like this," Ali replied silkily, her eyes still closed.

They kissed again, Emily pressing her hands against the base of Alison's back, bringing her body flush against hers. Her hands moved downward, over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Ali moaned into her mouth, flicking her tongue against Emily's bottom lip. Keeping one hand on her ass, she slid the other into her hair as Ali nipped and kissed and licked within her mouth. It seemed like Ali hadn't forgotten anything about kissing Emily either.

The kiss lasted forever. It was becoming deep and aggressive. Emily felt transported, consumed. Like maybe Ali had been right, that she had become "something else", something else that Ali made her.

Emily shifted her tongue against Alison's, pushing it back into her mouth, pushing Alison bodily across the stairs and back into the brick wall. Emily caught her lips half gasp and bit her bottom lip until Ali closed her mouth around hers and bit back.

"Fuck," Emily said in both pain and pleasure, pulling away. It all felt good, too good. She felt overpowered by the drug, by Alison.

Alison wrapped a hand around her neck, forcing her back towards her lips.

"Should we go back—?" Emily started, not quite sure how she was going to finish. Back inside? Back to the apartment?

Ali seemed to come to herself then, opening her eyes.

"I want to—" she stuttered in response. "Can we—?"

But then she seemed to make a decision, taking Emily's hand. She pulled her down the stairs and back inside. Through the crowd, past the dance floor, through the back door behind the stage, and back up to the apartment. Emily followed her, watched Alison lock the door. Once it was done, Ali leaned against it, biting her lip.

Emily closed the distance between them, her hands already back on the blonde's hips. She kissed her hard, pushing the material of her dress up her legs, bunching it around her upper thighs. Ali made a noise in the back of her throat, reaching up and removing Emily's hat, tossing it blindly into the living room behind them.

"Take this off," she said breathlessly, grasping at the wig.

Emily helped her remove it, tossing it on the floor.

"You too," Emily panted, angling Ali towards the guest bathroom as they continued to kiss.

Emily wanted the wig off immediately. She didn't like kissing this weird version of Alison. Earlier, she thought she'd liked it precisely because Ali didn't look like herself, like the villain who had tortured her. But right now, she wanted to kiss real Ali. The wig made her less herself, less beautiful, which was an affront because Alison was the most beautiful.

It felt strange to admit that to herself, Emily thought as the bathroom door banged open behind them. Obviously she thought she was beautiful because her tongue was down her throat, but she'd never allowed herself to really admit it. That Alison, even with the scarring, was the prettiest girl Emily had ever met. Even prettier than her sister. Scary, sure, like a hurricane or a flaming comet, but absolutely gorgeous. Emily had always felt ashamed to think that before, to think that about "A." She'd judged herself. But she didn't judge herself now. She could accept it.

She blindly moved to switch the light on as they fumbled in the darkness. Once she found it, she pressed Alison's back against the sink, lips still dancing over hers, while her hands carefully peeled away Ali's wig. It was glued in places, so she had to pull back to see what she was doing, making sure not to pull too hard.

Alison watched her, pupils large in the white light, as Emily worked around her hairline. When she finally tugged it free, Emily noticed a cap underneath. She cast that aside, too, revealing Ali's gorgeous blonde hair. She touched it lightly, grazing her fingers over the soft texture, before she began pulling several of the bobby pins out.

As she did, Ali began to softly kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jaw. Her fingers worked the muscles in Emily's neck while she slowly spun them around so that Emily's back was against the sink instead.

"Sit up here," Ali instructed, patting the counter with her hand.

Emily complied easily, feeling like she was in a dream. She jumped up and scooted backwards against the cold counter top, still removing the bobby pins from Ali's hair. It was almost fully loose now, hanging in curls by her face, on her shoulders. Emily became distracted repeatedly running her hands through it. She couldn't get enough of the sensation.

"Spread your legs," Ali husked, pressing a fingertip to her knee.

As she did so, Alison stepped between them, running her hands up Emily's thighs, over the jeans. They paused just above the waistline, where Emily's stomach was exposed. Then, they moved up and under Emily's shirt, and Ali kissed her again.

Emily groaned, moving one hand to grasp Ali's shoulder hard. She felt Alison unclasp her bra, reach up into her sleeves to pull the straps over her arms. Once free, she threw it to the side, moving her lips to Emily's neck.

Emily touched her hair, her cheek, her jaw. She was soft, like fleece or worn cotton. Emily felt pliant under her touch, like clay. She realized Ali was rocking her hips slowly, tantalizingly, into her spread legs, as she nipped and licked behind her ear. She was creating a rhythm like waves beating against sand.

Even though this drug felt like it was a constant brain turn on, she could feel her body reacting now, too. Like a song building. She felt over eager. She wanted more, more, more. Like she and Ali were like two bright lights, slowly merging. Dazzling and brilliant. Like a flint that Alison was striking, daring her to start to life, to brightly burn.

She pulled Alison back to her mouth, hands at her cheeks. Emily was almost lost in the sensation, letting it wash over her like warm liquid. Drowning in it, it took her a moment to realize that Ali's hands had moved lower, that she was undoing the button of her jeans and unzipping them.

She pulled away, jarred from the moment. Everything felt good, so good, she didn't want to stop. But were they really doing this? Everything seemed surreal, like it wasn't happening to her. It was all a little crazy, wasn't it? Crazy that they had been dancing, crazy that Emily had been shot-gunning Ali smoke, crazy that they were kissing and now undressed. Mind-blowing, but crazy.

"Ali, you don't have to—" Emily started.

"I want to," Ali blurted, interrupting her. "I want you."

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but wasn't sure quite what to say. She felt the same way. Ali only looked at her, eyes deep and soulful.

"Can I keep going?" she asked.

"Okay."

Not breaking eye contact, Alison removed her jeans, pulling each pant leg down to her ankles and slipping the garment off and onto the floor. She pressed her palms up the inside of Emily's calves, to her knees. Ali's hands felt warm, smooth, and viscous. Normally, Emily might've been insecure to be half naked, but right now she felt nothing of the sort. This felt right. Blissful.

Ali looked down at Emily's knee as her hand rolled over it. Emily had a scar there, though it was almost invisible now. Was it the one she had nicked on the table so long ago?

"I remember this," Ali said, confirming Emily's thought. "Do you have any other scars?" she asked, bending over to kiss it.

Just the feeling of her lips on skin set Emily's body alight. She was seriously turned on. And for how long? She didn't know. It was more than just the drugs, too. It had been too long since Emily had been with someone. Her life had been consumed by the Alison DiLaurentis trial, by darkness. So Ali touching her, it was like she was seeing and feeling the sun for the first time after a century of sleep. She was waking up.

Emily only just registered her question as Ali continued to run her hands up and down her thighs.

"Yes," she answered fuzzily.

"Where?" Ali asked. "Oh, here's one."

Ali lifted Emily's leg, inspecting a long scar, now faded but still white on Emily's shin. She softly ran her fingertips over it.

"I slipped," Emily explained. "And skinned it against the pool side."

"Ouch," Ali said kissing it, too. Her tongue darted out this time. Watching her do it made Emily clench.

She didn't pull away after, continuing a path of kisses back up to Emily's knees. Emily leaned back on her hands, her eyes closing.

"I have another one," she breathed as Ali made her way towards her inner thigh. She gasped slightly when she felt her teeth there. "On my elbow."

"Mhm," Ali hummed, pressing her thumbs into her flesh, working her tongue up higher.

"And another—uhhh—" she started, but couldn't finish as Alison cupped her underwear, her mouth even closer to that spot.

Ali looked up then, locking eyes with Emily. She stood up on her toes to reach Emily's lips. But instead of kissing her, she wrapped her other hand around one leg and pulled her closer to the counter's edge. Then, she pinched the material of her underwear between her fingers and tugged down.

They were down and off before Emily could catch a breath. Alison leaned back up to her, running her hands over her stomach.

"Wrap your legs around me," she rasped, looking carnal and focused.

Emily did so and Alison's hands snaked up under her shirt, past her sides, her ribs. Emily was pulling her lips back towards hers when she felt her hands take each of her breasts, massaging her nipples to rough points.

Emily moaned into her mouth. Ali bit her lip slightly as she did it. Then, she pulled away, drawing her hands back towards Emily's hips, dipping her head low to kiss her stomach.

Emily watched her, enthralled. Was Ali about to do what it looked like? The muscles in Emily's stomach quivered. She could feel her arousal throbbing, as loud and intense as the beat of the music downstairs.

"Lean back," Ali said.

Emily did, but she couldn't move her eyes away from the blonde as her tongue went lower, moved sensually, drew a line from her stomach to her hip bone. Her thighs tightened around Ali's back as she continued her descent, a heel hooking into her ribs.

Finally, she dipped down before Emily had entirely prepared herself, her tongue touching wet skin, licking, flicking, unselfconscious and firm. Emily cried out, loud and uninhibited, when Ali grazed her clit. Ali caught the hint and worried the spot specifically with her lips. Emily felt like she was melting, that she was gathering warm and wet like steam, rising into Alison's mouth.

Alison continued, relentless, not stopping until she founda particularly good angle, an angle that forced Emily to writhe and squirm. Emily couldn't think at all. She tugged Ali's blonde hair a little too hard, and she was moaning louder, much louder. She wasn't sure if she'd ever made this much noise or felt this good. Was it just the drugs? Or was it because she'd imagined this before, that she'd had an exact fantasy like this with Alison?

Sensing she was on the edge, one of Ali's hands wound back up under Emily's shirt, wrapping around a breast, pinching a nipple.

"Fuck," Emily said, feeling light-headed. She opened her eyes, they'd been screwed closed. She watched Ali work.

Ali glanced up, catching her gaze. The look she gave Emily as her tongue flicked quickly was pure seduction. Emily couldn't take it, she pulled her face up, back towards her mouth. She wanted to kiss her. Alison allowed it, though it was messy, sloppy, entirely uncoordinated on Emily's part. While they kissed, Emily breathing hard, Alison replaced her tongue with a finger. Then, Emily felt her slip inside.

"Alison," she said, rocking her hips into her palm. This felt divine. Emily was hot, shaky, and dripping. Alison was all around her, about her, inside her.

And, then, all in an instant, she came. It rolled over her like a summer storm. It was the best she'd ever felt, the only thing she ever wanted to feel again.

It took a long time to pass. Or maybe it didn't take any time. All she knew was Alison held her before pulling out, licking the length of Emily's neck, tasting the salt on her skin.

"How was it?" she whispered, silky smooth in Emily's ear. "You taste how you smell."

But Emily didn't have words.

She slid off the counter top, feeling ungrounded, like she couldn't quite remember how to operate her limbs. She wrapped her arms around Alison's back, pulling at the hem of her dress, lifting it over her head. When it was gone, she picked Ali up despite her aching, sore muscles. She walked her into the bedroom.

After she laid her on the bed, Emily pushed her lips into Ali's. She felt her breath rise and shutter into her mouth. Emily swallowed her shaking lips. As they kissed, Emily on top of her, Ali's reaction was making Emily weak. Kissing was everything.

"How did you know what to do?" Emily asked while she pulled away to remove her bra.

"I've been in jail for six months, Emily," Ali replied easily.

Emily laughed, nipping at her shoulder.

"Prison romance?"

"Girls talk," she said with a gasp, distracted by the fact that Emily's hand slid her hand down her ribs and stomach, sinking beneath her panties and into the place between her legs.

She made small circles with the pad of her index finger. Alison was ready. She immediately bucked into her, making sounds Emily had never thought she'd know. She whimpered with each circle. She cried out with each press. Emily touched her like she'd been wanting to touch her forever. She eased her legs apart, settling between them, feeling the heat, the wetness. She adjusted a thigh over her hip so she could squeeze in close, press breasts and stomachs together.

She pulled back when Ali began to shake. She looked into her eyes, which were strange; darker and deeper than normal. When she slipped inside her and began moving, they turned molten. Alison wrapped her hands around Emily's neck and continued to stare back, sometimes biting her lip, sometimes moaning. Emily had never felt closer to anyone, ever.

When Ali came, she didn't make as much noise as Emily, but she seized, froze. Inside her, Emily could feel her muscles spasming and compressing. She kissed her mouth, licked her lip, nuzzled her shoulder. She could do this all night, all day. She never wanted this high to end.

Well, what did you think? Ali POV next!