A/N: Hey guys! This is one of our favorite scenes in part one, hope you guys enjoy the chaos! Can't wait to see your reactions.
Warnings: Language, Nasty people, mention of bad things happening to Ali, etc.
Chapter 10
Emily leads Alison over to a railing overlooking a dance floor which looks like the open lower level of the house. The blonde must say, she really loves the open design and beautiful architecture. But the place reeks of alcohol and perfume and it's crawling with sleazy people.
Alison can tell they're all eying her as she keeps her marked forearm pressed tightly to her side, people are shameless and size her up left and right. Their stares are filled with desire and her skin crawls as she catches one man licking his lips. If Emily notices, she's not letting on. Instead, the brunette sighs and leans back against the railing, flashing a charming smile at Ali as she pulls Alison a bit closer with the arm snaked around the blonde's waist. Ali stumbles a bit in her heels, unused to such height and she catches herself on Emily's shoulders so they are pressed tightly together.
Emily dips Alison playfully and Ali grips onto the swimmer's strong shoulders desperately scared of being dropped on her back. The brunette secretly savours the way Alison's thin fragile fingers dig in tightly.
"So what do you say? Are you up for dancing?" Emily asks with a grin as she raises Alison out of the dip. She hopes Alison agrees. Dancing is merely innocent, she tells herself—she has enough self control to keep it PG...or maybe PG-13. As long as it's not R she's safe, Emily thinks to herself with a grin.
"I…I don't know…" Alison stutters shyly and blushes, afraid to disappoint Emily and say no. But the truth is, she doesn't her want her inability to embarrass herself or more importantly, Emily.
"You don't know?" Emily questions cheekily, leaning in close. The strong buzz she has fuels her wild libido and desire. She loves the warmth she receives from alcohol a little too much. Emily quirks an eyebrow playfully as she eyes Alison's body teasingly. "Or you don't want to?"
"I don't know how," Alison guiltily admits feeling a little silly as Emily looks at her with surprise and then laughs, leaning back and shaking her head while pulling Alison closer still.
"Of course you do, everyone knows how to," Emily insists but when she sees the seriousness and embarrassment on Ali's face her laughter fades. "…you really don't know how to?"
"I've never really had to," Alison admits quietly, so quietly that Emily almost doesn't hear her. It's true—most people just threw her on the ground or bed or wall and kept going—there was no need for dancing. There was one time she had to "dance" with an owner, but she doesn't think that really counted as he was very drunk and hardly dancing.
"You wanna learn how to?" Emily asks curiously, and Alison doesn't want to disappoint her so she just gives a half laugh hesitantly and tries to nod. Emily gestures to the dance floor. "That's not even real dancing, which is harder. This is foreplay with clothes on basically."
Alison tries to force a smile but her thoughts instantly go to their little incident earlier in the day and Emily kicks herself knowing exactly what is going through Ali's head. Emily suddenly retracts her arm from around Alison and slides further across the rail to put some much needed space between them. Her last bit of good judgment is telling her to fucking be careful.
"On second thought let's not do that," Emily retracts her offer and shakes her head with a weak smile.
"I can learn," Alison quickly offers in a desperate attempt to please Emily as she sees a dark, displeased look come over her owner's face. She thinks Emily is upset with her, but Emily is only upset with herself.
"I'm sure you'd be a natural," Emily tries to console gently before changing the subject as she turns to face downstairs. "Why don't I get another drink and we go sit on those couches? There are people there who I'm sure would love to talk my ear off."
As if hearing Emily, a woman on the couches spots the swimmer and whacks her partner till he breaks his conversation and follows the woman's pointing. Emily waves half heartedly and the woman squeals a little.
"Nothing quite like being on display," Emily grumbles aloud with annoyance.
Alison nods, not sure of how she can help so she let's Emily take her hand once more and leads her to a table with glasses and bottles.
"Don't drink the punch," Emily warns as she grabs the bottle of scotch and pours herself an unhealthy amount. "Its always got an extra kick."
Alison's face contorts in confusion and Emily can't help the little chuckle at Ali's adorable nose wrinkle.
"Drugs," Emily clarifies in a whisper just loud enough for Alison to hear. Shana is infamous for mixing experimental drugs with her generic alcoholic punch.
Noted, Alison thinks. Once Emily has her drink, Alison politely declining another champagne, Ali lets the brunette keep a lingering hand on the small of her back as they descend the stairs and approach an area with several couches, arranged to facilitate conversation or a cozy little hide away for two.
People instantly greet Emily and they are dragged over to the couple who spotted Emily on the balcony. Alison hides her mark against her body so as not to disgrace and embarrass the brunette. She doesn't see other slaves like her—dressed up as nicely as the owners. There are slaves, and they walk about serving drinks or standing at attention by their owners and Alison feels uncomfortable being placed on such a strange pedestal.
"We are huge fans," the woman gushes.
"Well thank you," Emily politely returns with a brilliant smile.
Emily sits down on the couch and tugs on Alison, bringing her down right next to the athlete.
"I'm actually a swimmer too," the man proudly announces.
"No where near your level but he's getting there," the woman adds with a playful nudge to her partner's ribs. "I represent him. Sara, of Harvey and Associates—I'm sure you've heard of us."
"Of course," Emily smiles charmingly and the woman fishes out a business card.
As Emily takes it she turns to Alison and leans into the blonde under the guise of giving her the card to hold.
"Save me," Emily whispers in Ali's ear annoyed.
Alison giggles but lays her right hand on Emily's knee hesitantly, rubbing slowly to soothe her. She understands now that the brunette really likes being touched, even in the smallest ways, and is very sensitive. Emily naively smiles at her before continuing her conversation with the couple talking at her. They're branching out in representation and no matter how many times Emily explains she's happy with her current situation they won't let the bone go. Alison keeps her hand on Emily's knee innocently. Her touch is gentle and light, just a series of friendly soothing strokes to keep Emily calm and it seems so far to be working.
Two men seated across from them glare at Alison with disgust and she realizes belatedly that she's exposed her mark. The two men shake their heads and leave and Alison retracts her hand slowly from Emily's knee. She understands that Emily had no one else to bring with her, but did she really want to subject herself and consequently Alison to all these brutally humiliating glares of disgust? Alison knows Emily has thick skin, but she herself definitely is feeling the heat already.
"Think about our offer," the woman smiles at Emily again. The brunette nods distractedly as she notices Alison has withdrawn into herself somewhat, her blue eyes deep and swirling with hints of sadness.
"We can't wait to see you back in the pool," the man gushes to Emily as his partner drags him out of his seat.
"Always nice to meet fans," Emily flashes a friendly smile but Ali can tell the brunette is drained from this conversation.
Soon enough the couple leaves and there's only one other pair in the same area. The other two are much too wrapped up in each other though, furiously making out and oblivious to everything else. Emily and Ali are practically alone. The brunette sighs and Alison studies her owner.
"See what I mean, these parties are so exhausting—everyone's just talking about themselves. And when they do talk about me it's because they just want something," Emily takes a long sip of her drink before putting it down. She takes in the dress on Alison, and lets her eyes trail up shamelessly until settling on the blonde's face. "You look so gorgeous in that dress. Red is a good colour on you. You're lucky, I can't really pull off red, Hanna likes to rub it in."
Emily chuckles a bit and Alison doesn't know what to say so she replies with a soft thank you. Emily smiles before angling her body to face Alison.
"You're like a good luck charm you know? You keep me calm," Emily admits lazily, taking another sip of her drink, her arm sliding around the back of the couch as she relaxes more. "I'm a little afraid to lose my shit in front of you."
"Why?" Alison asks softly, not understanding. What's so special about her that makes the swimmer supposedly interested in more than just a good lay?
"Because," Emily leans back and drunkenly sort of gently pulls Alison towards her so the blonde has no choice but to turn into Emily, almost crawling on top of her. "I'd hate to make you afraid of me."
"I-I'm not afraid of you," Ali stutters out worried that Emily suddenly believes her to be disobedient somehow or defective.
"Hey, what's the matter?" Emily asks finally as she notices how Alison has gotten much more nervous over the last few minutes. She frowns, not liking the sadness on the blonde's face. Alison looks at her almost bewildered, like she's hiding her feelings, and shakes her head. "You can talk to me, Ali. I will listen."
The alcohol is making it easier for her to approach the blonde and deal with her jumpy ways. When she's sober, Ali's nervousness ends up making Emily just as nervous and on edge and sometimes Emily feels like she hits a wall of communication out of fear. She watches Alison's eyes soften and look to her with a glimmer of trust. Alison nods thoughtfully.
"Well?" Emily prods gently, absentmindedly laying her hand back on Alison's leg. She can't help it—she's a very touch, affectionate drunk.
"People…they stare," Alison tries to explain nervously. "I don't want to…embarrass you."
"That's what you're afraid of?" Emily asks in surprise at the way Alison almost hangs her head once more. She brings her fingers up to tilt Ali's chin up gently so her blue eyes meet her own. "I don't give a flying fuck what all these people think. Whatever we do isn't any of their business, its not their place to judge."
Emily smiles as her racing thoughts drift to their slowly building friendship. Ali bites her bottom lip as Emily grips her thigh just a touch tighter, obviously Emily is not one for rules when her needs are in question.
"It's your song," Ali remarks after a beat as Emily looks at her to continue the conversation. She distinctly remembers the thumping beat and vulgar lyrics currently blasting being on Emily's playlist.
"My song? Hardly," Emily chuckles as she points to herself, taking her hand off Ali's thigh, before a confused look graces her face. "Why'd you think that?"
"Your playlist," Alison tells her as she gestures to the phone in her little purse that Hanna has 'lent' her.
"Oh no, that's basically Maya's playlist," Emily explains and Alison feels a little relieved that Emily's music doesn't only consist of songs about sex. But she also feels a little horrified that she's been listening to the devil's music. "I mean, some of that stuff is catchy, but it's not what I listen to."
"Where's your real playlist?" Alison asks shyly. She can't wait to ask Aria to take Maya's playlist off her phone.
"It's somewhere on some computer, I don't really bother with it since Maya hates that stuff anyway," Emily says as she begins to think about how sad that sounds. Alison notices and she wants to console the brunette somehow. Besides, she wants to listen to Emily's personal playlist and know what the brunette actually enjoys.
"What do you like?" Alison asks inquisitively and she watches as Emily looks thoughtful and her hand lands back on Alison's thigh again for the third time, drunkenly.
"I like pretty chill stuff like Jack Johnson or even classics like Elvis," the brunette says as she leans forward to talk to Alison. Her hand fondly rubs Alison's lower thigh affectionately as she looks on at the blonde. "My favorite is Devil in Disguise. It's just such an oldie, it reminds me of when I was little and my grandpa would dance with me and swing me around."
Alison smiles innocently, loving the way Emily's eyes light up when she talks about something she actually likes. This is the first time she's ever even heard about Emily's past from the swimmer herself.
"He was really great, when he died he left me his vintage records," Emily murmurs as she averts her gaze from Alison and stares off into the distance, lost in thoughts of her late grandpa. The alcohol causes her mood to swing quickly and without warning.
Alison scoots closer, her bare knee touching Emily's as she tries to offer some sort of consolation to the brunette by putting her hand on top of the swimmer's.
Emily breaks out of whatever trance she's in and looks at Alison appreciatively.
"You're adorable," Emily sincerely tells her as she lets her eyes guiltily roam up and down the blonde as a faint smile tugs at her lips appreciatively. "I don't care what anyone else thinks."
The blonde watches as the brunette's eyes dart around the party though and she thinks that even if the brunette says that, she still wouldn't do anything terrible in public. She's probably embarrassed enough to have brought Alison as a last resort.
Emily looks at the blonde and sees her hanging her head slightly. The brunette reaches up and brushes a piece of Alison's hair back behind her ear, watching as the blonde turns to look at her curiously.
"Don't look so upset all the time," Emily jokes teasingly as she lets her hand linger before her thumb gently strokes Ali's cheek. "You're too cute to be upset."
That wasn't subtle, Emily notes with a mental face palm. But she realizes that too late as Alison gives a very faint but real smile and leans into the swimmer's hand affectionately. It's her own fault for being unable to control her raging hormones and attraction. There's just something about Alison and their unique friendship. She's never been interested in another girl past fleeting appreciation and lord knows there are a million other hot girls here that she could ogle and pay attention to instead of Alison—why is she so hung up on this girl? Emily sighs as she lets her eyes express her apology to the blonde and removes her hand.
"I think I should drink some water," Emily suggests out loud quietly. Alison nods and spots an approaching waiter.
She stands, trying to be obedient and proactive by getting Emily a bottle of water. The waiter sees her and heads her way, and she crosses carefully over to him, grabbing it. She turns around only to misjudge her distance and clumsily trips over Emily's leg and lands right in her lap. These damn heels are going to get her in more trouble than she desires.
"You ok?" Emily whispers and she doesn't know why she's whispering but anything louder than a hushed tone will wreck this moment. Whatever it is, Emily never wants it to end.
Ali nods a little and a tiny smile tugs at her lips before she remembers where they are and scrambles to get out of her owner's lap. Emily hovers her hands over Alison but doesn't touch her and Alison falls backwards with a tiny yelp off Emily's lap in her struggle. Emily grips the blonde's ass tightly pulling her forward swiftly and Ali gasps. It would be inaudible over the music and crowds but her mouth is right at Emily's ear as she lands flush against the swimmer.
Emily pants, a little exhilarated and a little too turned on. Ali's little squeak of surprise is doing sinful things to Emily's libido and the air around them is thick with tension. Her nerves are on fire, itching to move but too afraid to. Emily's mind is hazy, but she can feel that desire building steadily in her core.
Ali slowly pulls her head away from Emily's neck and the brunette's hands instinctively clench on Alison's perfect ass as blue eyes meet deep brown. Alison feels her stomach churning as Emily holds her tightly and possessively. She feels safe, but also nervous, and she can't quite pick a spot on Emily's perfect face to focus on. Her gaze keeps flickering between Emily's lips and her dark, dark eyes.
Emily watches Alison's struggle and feels herself shiver with excitement. She's way past tipsy, and the alcohol combined with the blonde's tight body against hers is setting her body aflame. The beat of the music from the dance floor is thumping through her veins and Alison shifts closer almost on the beat. Emily's mind flashes to lap dances with the blonde and she licks her lips as Ali once again focuses on them. The blonde's breath hitches noticeably. They're so close, it would be so easy, just one tiny, little taste-
"Keep it in your pants, Fields," a disgusted voice cuts in, ruining Emily's enjoyment of the temptation. "This ain't a brothel."
The magic shatters and Alison practically scrambles out of Emily's hold and crawls across the couch to safety. Emily looks over to the couple who was making out and seem to have come up for air just to judge Ali and Emily.
"Mind your own business," Emily snaps, turning back to Ali who has retreated into herself further down the sofa. She's assumed her normal position of hanging her head in embarrassment and shame. It infuriates Emily that these people have made Ali feel like this, and she hates herself a little for her own uncontrollable libido adding to the problem.
"The rich always think social etiquette doesn't apply to them," the woman turns to her make out partner with a scoff.
"So you can swallow some guy's tongue," Emily spits back affronted. "But I can't..."
Can't what…? Emily trails off because what was she actually trying to do, seduce Alison? Oh god she was, she was trying to seduce Alison and that's wrong on so many levels. If Maya or anyone else found out…
"Feeling up slaves is one thing but in public," the man shudders. "Slaves belong behind closed doors no one wants to see that."
"Fuck you," Emily throws back because she's angry with this asshole and herself for being so stupid— she almost cheated on Maya with Ali. She's never even entertained the idea of cheating of Ali—dammit, Maya.
Alison can see Emily is getting worked up and slips closer to calm down the oncoming rage.
"You really are unstable, Fields," the man goads and his date laughs.
Emily's whole body clenches in anger and Alison slides a hand to Emily's knee in comfort, the brunette needs to calm down before something bad happens. But the swimmer throws off Ali's touch immediately and stands. The last thing Emily needs right now is Alison touching her, and she can't think straight when the blonde is doing so. Alison shrinks away, unsure of how she has managed to upset Emily yet again. It's a miracle the brunette hasn't beat her yet, she thinks.
"Get out," Emily seethes at the rude couple.
"You can't be-"
"Get out!" Emily screams and the two scurry off, sending rude glares her way.
Its all too close to what happened earlier in the day with Maya and the bathroom and Alison feels herself hyperventilate a bit as Emily rounds on her.
"Ali-" all of Emily's anger evaporates as she sees the blonde working herself into a panic. Fuck, she thinks to herself, wishing Cece were here because the older blonde is so good at soothing Alison. All she's good at apparently is trying to seduce her and scaring her. Emily is so unbelievably angry at herself right now—she really always is a fuck up. She plops down beside Alison and rubs a hand over the blonde's shoulders. "Hey, you're ok."
Alison relaxes a little and once her breathing is even Emily snags the bottled water from the couch and untwists the cap.
"Drink this," Emily offers gently and stands once Alison takes the bottle. "I have…I have to go take care of something real quick."
Alison's eyes flash desperately with panic as she tries to stand, intent on following Emily.
"No, it's okay," Emily protests much too desperately and a little childishly. "Ali stay here, just relax and drink your water. I'll come back. Just. Stay."
Alison nods that she understands the command and sips her water carefully, although the panic doesn't leave her. Emily smiles down at her for a moment before a frown settles over the brunette's face and she turns sharply on her heel and storms away. Emily flees, immaturely, trying to put her thoughts in order. She's always thought Ali was cute, who wouldn't? But she just can't shake the memory of Alison in her lap, the feel of the blonde's ass squeezed under her palms…and this is all wrong.
Alison watches Emily go, apprehension mounting as she is abandoned by the one person she strives to please. As other party goers mill around the couch set, Ali feels more and more like she's being circled by sharks.
x-x-x
Thirty minutes pass and it feels like its been hours since Ali embarrassed her owner and Emily left. Alison has been stewing in her guilt and self hatred trying not to imagine how upset Emily is going to be later. In some ways, the idea of punishment is easier to stomach than the idea of embarrassing Emily. The anticipation of the consequences of her actions have her stomach swirling in anxiety. Ali is left alone with a sinking feeling of dread that she can't quite shake no matter how hard she tries.
"Hello," a friendly voice calls over her shoulder and Alison swivels on the couch to take in a well dressed, dark haired man. He looks charming for a brief moment as she allows herself to examine him quickly. "You looked lonely."
He smiles sweetly and Alison cautiously turns away with a shaky smile. She doesn't want to encourage him but she can't just rudely refute him. She just hopes he doesn't make a scene.
"I've actually been standing over here for a while," he chuckles to himself as he slips around the couch and sits himself down beside Alison, much too close for the blonde's comfort. "I've been trying to think of a line for the last five minutes."
Alison ducks her head politely, hoping if she doesn't engage he'll just go away.
"But you really are too beautiful for a sleazy come on," he breathes out in awe. He's too persistent to just give up now, and the blonde feels a little bit bad for her inability to converse out of loyalty and obligation.
Alison shifts subtly further along the couch and away from this stranger. Her last owner beat her fiercely if she so much as looked at another man, or he thought she was, and Emily is already on a short fuse tonight. Alison would hate to find out what Emily would do if she was caught entertaining someone else's obvious interest in her right now. She looks around for the swimmer desperately, unable to locate her.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," he tries again as he sees the blonde's disturbed look and holds out a hand gently. "I'm Ian Thomas."
Alison takes a shaky breath and presses her mark into her dress. She nods at him a little to not appear impolite, because if Emily also found out she was rude to guests she's sure the brunette would be angry. That would reflect poorly on her owner and Alison knows better than to make a novice mistake like that. But Ian seems to misunderstand and slides closer, his hand falling to her thigh.
"Most people here know who I am," Ian tries to tell her in a low voice as he puffs up proudly. Alison is too busy to notice as she stares at his hand on her thigh when it begins to rub slowly. She gulps trying to think of something to say or do to escape the impending disaster. If she stands, she's afraid she'll likely end up in his lap like she did with Emily earlier. She instantly blushes at the memory.
"So you've heard of me," Ian grins mistaking her blush to be caused by his amorous attention, his hand slides dangerously to her mid thigh, just grazing the material of the dress.
"What do you say we get out of here?" Ian whispers, his breath hot and unpleasant against her ear. The blonde can smell alcohol on him, but its almost completely concealed by his overpowering cologne.
Alison leans away and disguises the action by taking a huge gulp of water. She's completely at a loss as to what to do to make Ian leave her alone permanently and he watches her with nothing but desire burning in his eyes. Unbeknown to Ali, she's just shown Ian all he needs to see. A flip switches in his brain and he zeroes in on Ali faster than a hawk chasing it's prey.
"Who did you come with?" Ian questions a smirk sliding across his face as he shifts closer.
"Ian! GQ want to do an interview," another man yells from the other side of the room.
Ian's hand slides to her knee and squeezes once before he pats her gently.
"I'll let you get back to your night," he charmingly smiles. "Don't forget about me, I have a feeling I'll see you around."
He winks and Alison watches him leave, her heart rate returning to a normal level. She stands slowly, her fear of falling overcome by her fear of being caught by another predator. Ali sets about on her mission, despite Emily's insistence on her to stay, to find the one person who still makes her feel safe.
Alison makes her way through the sea of bodies, uncomfortably feeling people's hands land on her as she tries to be quick and nimble. She hears catcalls and catches people eye fucking her but she has a mission as she frantically tries to find Emily before the brunette returns to the couch and finds her missing. It's been a good thirty minutes though, and surely the brunette has calmed down enough to not do anything drastic.
She hears people cheering and she moves forward some more as the crowd thickens surrounding a table. Frustrated, she tries to move around them until she hears-
"Eat it, McCullers," a loud voice taunting shouts before any more words are drowned out cheers. Emily.
The blonde pushes through people desperately and comes upon the table, right near the athlete, only to find Emily and Paige locked in a heated standoff glaring at each other, empty glasses littering the table between them.
"Fuck you," Paige growls but Emily drunkenly laughs and sways on her feet as she grips onto the table to steady herself.
"F-f-fuck you, I can win in and out of the pool," Emily gloats and points a finger at the other swimmer, Paige looks like she might break it at any second if Emily keeps waving it in her face. Alison is unpleasantly surprised at how much more drunk Emily seems than when she disappeared. "I win medals and sponsors and cars and pussy."
The crowd around them roars with laughter and Paige's face turns an unflattering shade of red and purple.
"And all you'll ever get is second," Emily finishes jabbing her finger, talking big shit just to get under the other swimmer's skin.
"Get that the out of my face before I break it," Paige growls.
"This?" Emily asks wiggling her finger. "This, you want this out of your face?"
Emily dances her finger along Paige's eye line and gets incredibly close to touching her.
"See Paige the way to please a girl is you take this," Emily wiggles her finger. "And you put it-"
Paige slaps her hand away angrily and Emily laughs as the crowd around them murmur and chuckle along with Emily.
"I can beat you in the pool," Paige snarls, a little more aggressive than socially acceptable. "I've done it before and I will again."
"Maybe," Emily sasses drunkenly, her smug eyes fixating on Paige. "But I've still got more than you'll ever have."
Alison is afraid of the tone of voice that Emily is using and she really doesn't like how hot-headed and volatile her owner suddenly is when alcohol is involved, Emily becomes a completely different person. The swimmer had explicitly told Ali that she hates these parties, that they turn into pissing contests—but that's exactly what its seems like the drunk brunette is encouraging right now.
"Rematch," Paige demands as she picks up and slams her cup down on the table angrily.
"Fine," Emily relents with a drunken wave and people cheer from the sides. It sickens Alison how everyone is treating this like another sport. "You won't win."
"Careful, Fields, you're sounding mighty cocky for a lesbian," Paige quips haughtily as someone refills their cups with some mixed drink.
"Emily," Alison calls softly and tries to get her owner's attention subtly by tugging on her arm gently from the side but Emily is too drunk to notice. "Emily."
When the brunette still ignores her, she tries a little harder.
"Emily," she says a little more forcefully as she pulls at Emily's arm and the brunette stumbles a bit, catching her balance and turning to look at Ali. Her brown eyes are glazed over and she looks at Ali puzzled for a moment before she recognizes the blonde.
"There you are Ali," the brunette smiles but it's a stupid smile that doesn't even reach her eyes as pulls the blonde in for a hug. "My good luck charm."
"Please don't drink anymore," Alison whispers softly as she leans in and tries to plead in Emily's ear. The brunette pulls back and holds Ali to her side as people notice Alison's mark and raise their eyebrows. Alison shifts uncomfortably under their intrusive gaze.
"Ali, I'll be fine," Emily slurs lamely as she brushes aside the blonde's concern. "I'm going to kick McCuller's ass."
"Since you're so confident, let's make a bet this time," Paige offers coolly.
"Fine, if I win, I want your pretty little new car," Emily challenges with a smirk. Ali grips onto Emily tighter, trying to plead silently. Paige leans in close, so barely anyone can hear their conversation.
"And if I win, I get a go with your pretty little slave," Paige snickers. Alison turns red at the unpleasant thought, horrified at the thought of yet another person trying to steal her for the night.
"Don't go there," Emily snaps, and this time it's her grip on Alison that tightens possessively and makes the blonde squirm.
"What's the matter Fields, scared?" Paige goads tauntingly, tilting her head daringly. "Don't worry, the car is worth more."
"Shut the FUCK up, Paige," Emily shouts, absolutely intoxicated as her face darkens.
"You're just being a little pussy because you know I'll beat you this time," Paige declares and Emily is two seconds away from agreeing when she feels a sharp tug at her hand and looks to see Alison with a terror in her blue eyes.
"What Ali?" Emily asks a little loudly, but it's not harsh or annoyed, it's just frustrated with the situation.
"Please don't," she pleads more urgently this time. She takes a deep breath as she sees the glazed over eyes soften a bit. "I know you would win. But please stop drinking."
A wave of relief washes over Alison as the brunette falters and stares at the blonde for a moment.
"Fields stop undressing her with your eyes and get back to the game," Paige prods at the athlete but Emily shakes her head.
"I'm done," Emily reluctantly admits looking to Ali to see the blonde let out a relieved breath, her shoulders sagging slightly with less tension. Emily looks at Paige with an ugly look of accomplishment. "You're still a fucker."
"Boooooo!" the crowd yells collectively but Emily just holds her hands up, turning to leave and taking Alison's hand.
"Wait, shut up, everyone shut the fuck up!" Paige yells and the crowd quiets down to murmurs. "Winner gets anchor at the next relay!"
"Ohhhh!" the crowd hisses and the brunette freezes in her actions as Alison swallows thickly.
Emily clenches her fists—that's a fucking big bet, and if she beats Paige she'll get anchor which unfortunately isn't as sure a thing as she wants it to be. Emily is conflicted as she hears Paige's snickers from behind her and feels Alison's gentle squeeze to her hand. She turns to the blonde and grabs her face with both hands and pulls her in close, talking to Ali and Ali alone.
"I will not bet you away, I swear," Emily promises seriously, her voice slurring as her clumsy fingers pull Ali close and she kisses the blonde's forehead before turning back around to face Paige with a smug look on her face. "You're fucking going down, McCullers."
Paige raises an eyebrow with a smug grin as the crowd immediately breaks out into a loud roar.
"We're only betting anchor," Emily clarifies her mind still intact enough to keep her promise to Ali.
"Throw in the-"
"Don't," Emily snaps harshly. "Just shut the fuck up and drink."
Paige contemplates it for a moment and then nods. Alison watches horrified as her drunk owner stumbles slightly towards the table and the two lift their cups up, ready to chug whatever horrible concoction is in there.
"Ready?!" some stranger steps forward to officiate. Alison pulls her phone out of her little clutch and dials Aria's number. She has a gut feeling that this is doing the right thing, that Emily's entourage will understand.
"Ready, set, chug!"
Alison watches as Emily begins to drink and this is like watching a horrible train wreck.
"Hello?" Aria's muffled voice comes through the phone.
"Can you come now?" Alison asks as she watches Emily flinch while drinking as if she can't keep going but she pinches her nose and continues.
"What? Come where?"
"The party, please, Emily is drunk-"
"How drunk?" Aria's voice cuts through with a dangerous hardened edge.
"S-she's having trouble standing," Alison tells her as she watches Emily and Paige both slam their cups down at the same time although Emily wavers on her feet. The crowd erupts into cheers and chants of "break the tie" but concern washes over the tiny blonde as Emily's eyes have completely glazed over, too inebriated.
"Oh god, I'm on my way," Aria reassures Ali quickly. "Try and keep her under control okay?"
Alison squeaks out okay before hanging up the phone and catching the brunette who stumbles backwards into her arms. The blonde has to steady Emily as she sways on her feet.
"What's wrong Em? Can't hold your liquor?" Paige asks with a sneer, not looking nearly as affected as Emily and the blonde wonders if Emily's rival cheated somehow.
"Fuck you, Paige," Emily snarls but it loses all of its bite in her slurring speech. "Yo-you fucking pathetic shit swim-mer."
"Come say that to my face, Fields!" Paige snarls, looking like an angry pitbull.
"Fight, fight, fight!" the crowd move onto their next entertainment as Paige starts to round the table.
"I'll-Fuck you up, Mc-shit."
Emily raises her fists limply and Alison tries to pull Emily in the opposite direction, away from the chanting crowd and her angry rival.
"Let's go," Alison says a bit more forcefully as she half leads half drags Emily away carefully. People behind them boo and yell but Alison knows the girls at home would want her to take Emily away.
"I fucking beat that cunt," Emily spits out viciously while holding onto Alison and following the blonde through the crowd. "I fu-fucking beat her."
"I know," Alison placates her until they get to a clearing and Alison realizes they have to make it up the stairs they descended earlier. She looks to Emily who stares at her drunkenly and almost falls over forward onto Alison. The blonde has to push her back up and angle herself so she's holding the brunette by the side. "We're going up."
Emily nods and Alison drags the brunette up the stairs with her despite all the dirty glares thrown their way. She trudges higher and higher to the best of her ability and is rather proud of herself even though she's out of breath when they reach the top. Emily isn't heavy by any means, but her drunken leaning on Alison really weighs the blonde down, not to mention Ali isn't particularly skilled in heels. She leads the brunette over to a wall where there's a break in the crowd and she props the brunette up against it by gently pushing on her shoulders and holding her there.
"Mmm, stop it," Emily giggles as she grabs Ali's wrist and pulls the blonde flush against her. Ali lets out a little squeak, trying not to fall as the drunk girl holds onto her tightly, Emily's head rolling back and leaning against the wall. "You're such a fucking tease."
"I…sorry," Alison stutters helplessly, trying to separate herself from Emily without the brunette falling over.
"But…fuck," Emily slurs, her hand slipping to the small of Ali's back and the blonde is so uncomfortable with all this drunken groping and possessive grabbing. Emily groans and tilts her head back angrily, her internal warnings still somewhat in tact. This is wrong, but fuck it if she doesn't just want to be so wrong with Ali. "Fuck this, fuck me."
Alison tries to struggle against the brunette because she knows Emily is just drunk and worked up from Paige and-
"Emily, may I interrupt?"
The two turn to see Ian standing there, hands clasped in front of him smartly and a feral smirk on his face.
"Fuck off, Ian," the brunette flips him off with her free hand and pulls Ali tighter with her other.
"I met Alison earlier," he remarks casually, Ali bristles slightly, she doesn't remember giving him her name earlier and she tries to control her nervous shaking as he puts a hand on the her shoulder like they're good friends. "She's quite a special girl."
"She's the best," Emily affirms with a stupid drunken slur.
Alison's skin prickles unpleasantly as Ian touches her possessively. Emily either hasn't noticed or is too drunk to care.
"So, how much for her?" Ian asks with a coy smile, his hand reaching for his wallet. "Cash or check?"
"Fuck you, what?" Emily murmurs, thinking she misheard. She scrunches her eyes trying to clear the haze in her mind.
"I just want a go," Ian explains calmly in a hushed voice as if this is a normal practice for him. "Nothing too rough. I'd use a rubber. Just twenty minutes or so. Let's say five grand?"
His hand slides down to Alison's ass and the blonde feels her blood run cold as he squeezes and tears prick at her eyes in humiliation.
"No," Emily venomously snarls and Alison sees a trace of the Emily from the day they met. "Hands off. Now."
"Seven," Ian throws out, certain he can get what he wants with a good haggle.
"She's not fucking for sale, you prick," Emily growls as she pushes Alison off her to the side protectively, her voice rising in volume as she leans off the wall and gets in Ian's face. "Don't you fucking come to me and assume I'd give you anything you entitled piece of shit-"
"Emily!"
Emily freezes.
"Mom's here, fuck," Emily grumbles petulantly as Cece and Aria rush over to the group.
"Cece lovely to see you," Ian greets charmingly as the blonde joins them.
"Ian," Cece flashes the man a polite tight lipped smile, she's not fond of the creep but he's well liked and connected.
"Emily lets go," Aria whispers hurriedly, reaching for the brunette's arm.
"I don't wanna," Emily moves out of Aria's grip and pins Alison to the wall. "Ali and I are having our own party, get lost."
Emily's lips press to Alison's neck hungrily. Ian has set off her territorial instincts and the part of her that has always wanted the blonde is in full force. Ali gasps at the sensation of wet kisses trailing her throat.
"Emily none of that," Cece snaps dragging the brunette away from poor Ali. "Remember you have Maya."
"Maya's a bitch," Emily whines as she stumbles along, Cece dragging her towards the door.
"Then dump her sorry ass," Cece whispers furiously. Drunken Emily is the hardest to reason with but Cece never stops trying.
"And then I can have Ali," Emily's eyes light up like a christmas tree.
Cece pinches the athlete behind her ear, hard, stopping them just before the entrance doors.
"No, that does not mean you get Ali," Cece lectures, thoughts of the timid blonde's history flooding her mind.
"Ow," Emily groans rubbing at her red ear and glaring at Cece like a scolded child. "Fuck you that hurt."
"Its going to hurt a lot more if you don't get in the fucking car," Cece snarls. "I was having a relaxing night off before you decided getting shit faced at a fucking gala was a good idea."
"No one asked you to be here," Emily snaps back.
"Emily," Cece rubs her temples frustratedly. "There are at least twenty photographers out there—we don't need more pictures of you being a sloppy drunk."
Emily looks to the ground toeing her heel into the floor.
"So smile, try to look like you're not going to keel over at any second and for god sakes don't grope anyone," Cece demands.
Cece opens the door and steps out to a sea of flashes, she holds the door open for Emily and Aria moves up to assist the swimmer. Ali bringing up the rear.
"Cece," Ian calls as he follows the entourage outside.
"I'll get the car," Aria hurries off to fetch the car so that Emily won't have to walk as far and the others turn to Ian.
"Perhaps we could talk business privately," Ian suggests with a smile. Cece quirks her eyebrows in question.
"I don't think I can help you with anything, Ian," Cece politely responds. "I'm not really interested in new clients and I don't represent coaches."
Ian chuckles.
"No, no you misunderstood. Private business," Ian corrects as he tilts his head at Alison. The little blonde ducks ashamed and Cece's eyebrows narrow dangerously. Alison wants to hide behind the agent, almost certain that Cece won't let harm come her way.
"I'm afraid I can't help you," Cece bites back her anger for this lowlife.
"Are you sure?" Ian challenges. "Ten grand won't change your mind?"
Emily sways on her feet finally picking up on the conversation.
"I told you, she's not for sale," Emily angrily turns on Ian.
"Emily behave," Cece commands looking worriedly at the surrounding photographers. Where the fuck is Aria and the car?
"Yes, Emily, the grown ups are talking," Ian chuckles as he turns back to Cece. "Twelve but I want her for at least two hours."
Cece wants to throw up and tries to hold a straight face.
"Look, Ian, we don't-"
"She's not for sale!" Emily seethes angrily, turning on him.
"Emily," Cece hisses.
Ian looks uncomfortable too at the loud outburst which draws a bit of attention. Everyone is still just speculating though and Ian can handle that, he hedges his bets, he's come too far to back down now.
"Okay fine thirteen but she better be good, she's a fucking doll-"
"She's my fucking doll!" Emily drunkenly repeats in protest, yelling at him, and before she knows it she swings her fist and punches him straight in the cheek, knocking him down the few steps so he sprawls along the pavement. Alison looks on in horror at the scene before her and feels her stomach flip nervously at how strong and worked up Emily really is right now over her. My doll, Alison notes with an unpleasant frightened shiver. Emily has never used that derogatory term for her and it stings more than she thought it would.
The photographers explode in excitement and once again Cece is caught in the middle of an Emily Fields publicity fiasco.
"Ali, get her in the car now," Cece instructs the blonde seriously as Aria pulls up. Alison nods quickly, grasping Emily's elbow and trying to get the still heated brunette down the steps and into the car.
"Ali," Emily whines leaning into Alison."My hand hurts."
Alison grimaces as Emily shoves her already bruised knuckles into the blonde's frightened face. Ali bites her lip—even in the midst of being a drunken mess Emily, is still oddly vulnerable. Alison takes Emily's hand gently stroking her thumb tenderly over her owner's knuckles.
"We'll clean it at-at the house," Alison whispers, her voice level and calm as Emily gazes at her with pain in her brown eyes.
The words trigger a different reaction though and Emily's mouth slowly lifts up into a devilish grin.
"Will you kiss it better," Emily purrs into Ali's ear. Alison stumbles a bit in her heels and wonders how she's going to survive this night as she pulls Emily to the car.
Meanwhile, Cece rushes down to Ian who holds his cheek in shock.
"Oh god, Ian, are you alright?" Cece feigns concern as she helps him to his feet.
"That fuckin' bitch just punched me!" he angrily gasps in disbelief, checking his hand for blood.
"She's had too much to drink," Cece explains calmly as she continues to help him up. He gets to his feet and shakes Cece off of him angrily.
"Well her careers fucked now," Ian mutters motioning to the photographers still eagerly clicking away. Cece sighs painfully, this is exactly the kind of mess she was hoping to avoid tonight. "If you just give me Ali-"
"I'm done playing nice," Cece steps up to Ian, laying a hand upon his bruised cheek so to the media she appears to be soothing him but she digs a nail in discreetly, relishing Ian's pained gasp. "Listen to me, you pompous, arrogant fuck-stick, just because I don't want Emily pummelling you on national television doesn't mean you don't deserve it."
Ian winces in pain and swallows a frightened gulp as Cece smiles at him.
"Now be a good little scumbag and go back to your girlfriend and leave my clients alone," Cece stresses patting his cheek affectionately.
"Fucking bitches," he growls before storming off. The older blonde rolls her eyes, she doubts Ian is going away without causing trouble but perhaps Spencer can head him off. She shakes her head in frustration, she really doesn't get paid enough for this shit. At the car Alison helping is Emily slide in the backseat and Cece smiles proudly at the little blonde before jumping into the front seat.
"Let's get the hell out of here," Cece murmurs and Aria nods, checking in the rearview mirror. She watches Alison finally get in the car next to Emily and shut the door. Aria guns the accelerator, dodging several determined photographers.
"Get out of the way," Aria mutters as she almost runs over one, they need to get away from the scene of the crime as fast as possible. Once they're on the open road the car falls silent for a few moments before Cece turns no longer able to contain her anger.
"What the hell were you thinking, Fields?"
"It's was a fucking party," Emily defends herself, glaring at Cece and the older blonde rolls her eyes.
"Yeah a party not a fucking brawl," the older blonde shakes her head disappointedly and Emily huffs crossing her arms and pouting like a little kid. However the brunette is quickly distracted by the quiet blonde next to her and regards at Alison with interest as the blonde hangs her head to avoid Emily's penetrating gaze. Instead of letting the blonde catch her breath after their ordeal with Ian, Emily has the brilliant idea that she can cheer Ali up and tugs at Alison's legs much to the surprise of the blonde.
"You're so tiny," Emily muses drunkenly as she tries pull Alison into her lap. Cuddling always helps make Em feel better, maybe it will make Ali feel better too?
"Em, we're in a moving vehicle," Aria warns from the front as she sees the brunette trying to lustfully grab at Alison. The blonde shifts uncomfortably, not knowing how to react to Emily. She holds out her hand but it hangs mostly in the air, she can't push Emily away and she doesn't really know if she wants to encourage the brunette either. Emily reaches out her own hand intent to latch onto Alison but her mothering agent intercedes.
"Americano," Cece snaps, turning around and grabbing Emily's hand. "Enough. Leave Ali alone."
"Awwww, Cece," Emily slurs in an attempted alluring manner, her glazed eyes now half closed as she drunkenly leans forward and presses her lips to Cece's ear while letting her hand rest on the smooth exposed skin on Cece's shoulder. "Jealous?"
"Get off me, you horn dog," Cece snarks as she throws Emily's hands off of her. The brunette shrugs and looks to Aria with a smile, shifting her body to turn to the driver.
"You're even tinier," Emily muses. Why are all her friends incredibly attractive? It's not fair.
"Don't even think about it," Aria warns with a raised eyebrow.
Emily sinks back into her seat and pouts the rest of the car ride home.