A/N: Thank you all for the encouraging reviews. They motivate me.
Chapter 7:
Chemistry
When Alison arrived at the small ranch house she took in the quaint little area. She checked her make-up in her mirror and then climbed out of the car. She was rounding the front of the vehicle when she saw Emily walking out her front door. She was wearing a sensible blouse with a sleek black jacket and black pants that hugged her hips and made her ass pop. It looked very smackable.
The blonde had conflicting feelings about the outfit. On one hand she was disappointed the detective wasn't in a skirt or dress for easy access. On the other hand, she liked that Emily hadn't tried too hard. She liked that the brunette was unapologetically herself. Emily knew who she was. She was confident in her choices.
A woman after my own heart…
Alison's heart fluttered in her chest, doing that thing that only Emily could make it do. Chemistry was strange. A biological attraction that was turning physical and perhaps emotional. Her brain and her eyes liked the way Emily looked. But her heart liked the way the woman made her feel.
Chemistry. She thought to herself. Is that what this is?
She still wasn't used to her feelings, if that's what they were. The only thing that had ever made sense to Alison was science. She didn't do feelings and emotions. But chemistry could apply to both.
The laws of chemistry were set and clear in science, but with feelings and emotions it was part of the brain, elements bonding cohesively together, turning into physical attraction. Was that what was happening with Emily?
Am I capable of feeling chemistry?
Am I capable of feeling ANYTHING?
She'd never tried before. She'd never really had any normal relationships. Her parents had screwed her up at an early age, warping her ideas of what love was supposed to be to the point of confusion.
Oftentimes, she blamed them for the fact that she couldn't connect to anyone. Them…and Darren Wilden.
In a way, what had happened to her with Darren could also fall back on her parents. She didn't know what she was getting in to when they met. She thought it was normal. She couldn't have known it was wrong. Because her mom and dad had preened and groomed her from such an early age.
She was her daddy's pretty little princess and all his friends loved her.
That's not me anymore. I'm not that little girl anymore.
When she blinked she saw Emily's eyes sweeping over her, moving to hold a steady gaze, brown eyes on blue.
Alison saw Emily's eyes widen. She saw how hard the brunette had to keep from letting her jaw drop.
Emily quickly locked the door and walked off of the porch, meeting Alison halfway.
"Wow. You look…" Emily's eyes raked over her body. "Wow."
At a loss for words, are we?
"You're looking quite dapper there yourself, Detective." Alison gave the lapel of the brunette's jacket a playful tug. She looked Emily up and down. "It crazy to see me out of my scrubs, right?"
I want you to see me out of this dress…
"It is, but you look good in scrubs, too. You look amazing in anything." So smooth. "So," Emily put her arm around Alison's waist as they walked towards her car. "Where are we going?" She reached for the driver's door to let Alison in the car.
So sweet.
"It's a surprise." Alison winked. "I know as a detective you like mysteries."
Emily walked over to the passenger side and climbed in next to her. Like Alison, her car was in pristine condition. She took very careful care of her things.
"It's strange to see you outside of the hospital." Emily couldn't take her eyes off of the blonde.
"I live most of my life there." Alison admitted.
"I've been meaning to ask you how that emergency surgery went last night." Emily reached up and pulled her seat belt over her shoulder, latching it into the buckle.
"It went well. The patient was discharged this afternoon." She turned the car on.
Darren Wilden.
She saw his face staring down at her and telling her to relax. She shuddered.
"He looked kind of like one of my exes." She tried not to grit her teeth.
Emily noticed her tension.
"That must have been hard."
To not stab him in the head, yes.
"Alex didn't bother you again, did she?" Emily looked tense, like she would beat the girl up if she could. It was cute. And Alison wanted to see it. She wanted to see what it was like when Emily let her dark side take control.
"No. I think she got the message." Alison shook her head. "How was your day?"
"Worked from home. Toby was out on another call. I thought I'd just rein it in. Did your day go okay?"
"Yeah. Regular surgery schedule. Then I stopped by to check on a friend after work. You remember I mentioned Aria Montgomery wasn't feeling well?"
"Right. You said she has the flu?"
"I wanted to make sure she was doing okay." Alison watched Emily's reaction. She liked seeing the way her eyes softened.
I did a nice thing. That makes you happy. I'm not a bad person.
Except...she was the reason Aria was sick.
Not a good person either.
So what the hell was she?
"That was very sweet of you. I'm sure Dr. Montgomery appreciated it. How is she?"
"She's doing much better. She told me as much on the phone, but I worry." Alison sighed. "I care very much for the people I work with." She paused and shot Emily a knowing grin. Except Kathleen. "Well, most of the people I work with. But even then, I try my best to be friendly."
"I don't think your kindness is doing anything for that raging psycho at the front desk. That woman is a real piece of work." Emily pressed against an uneven cuticle on her index finger.
If I had my way she'd be IN pieces.
But Alison had other plans for her.
Emily had been too kind. Kathleen was more than a piece of work. She was a hellbeast bitch with dick for brains. It was probably the reason the shriveled old woman was still single. No one wanted to go near her crazy ass. Alison wanted to call her much worse, but she stayed silent. She had to maintain a calm demeanor.
She watched as Emily preened her nails for a few seconds. Her hands looked soft despite her rigorous job.
"The hardest part is that no one else sees it…the way she treats me…" Alison leaned into fake insecurity…though maybe a little of it was real.
Normally, people didn't get under her skin. Normally she just focused on her kills and she could let it go. She wanted to kill the bitchy nagging twat. She wanted to make her suffer. She wanted to carve into her cheek and leave her in a graveyard with children's tiny little graves so the world could know she was a horrible person.
But instead she had to settle for something that looked like natural causes. People would cry and mourn and talk about what a wonderful person she was. She would be fucking idolized. No one would ever know the real her, because no one could see what Alison saw.
"I see it." Emily reached over and took her hand, a hard angry look on her face. It was the same look she had on her face when Alex accosted them. Determination. Bravery. "And if that bitch ever messes with you when I'm around she'll hear about it from me."
So gallant.
Alison imagined that it would be orgasm-worthy if she saw Emily confront the uptight fish-lipped cunt. She'd probably come in her panties if Emily punched her.
She tried to shake her violent thoughts off. She was out for a pleasant evening with Emily. She didn't need the haggard old bitch to live rent free in her head.
"Can I be honest with you about something?" Emily lifted her head and glanced at the blonde.
"Of course." Alison was delighted that Emily wanted to be so open about things.
"How do you stay so sane? Things feel so tense at the hospital. Most of your coworkers seem really nice. But some are a bit…" She searched for the word. "Surly."
"That's one way of putting it." Alison laughed boisterously.
"Alex, I get. She's not a coworker and she's a nuisance and had no right to be there. But Kathleen? Where does she get off talking to you like that?" Emily was really worked up about the troll woman.
Alison really liked having the brunette on her side.
"I guess maybe since I've lived through one of the worst things someone can live through the hospital just doesn't affect me the way it affects everyone else there."
Also, I'm a psychopath and don't feel grief for people I barely know...
Though she hated it when she lost a patient because it reflected poorly on her as a surgeon. She didn't like that.
"I get it. It's a tough job." Emily's anger slowly started to dissipate. "Some days at my job can be rough, too, but I don't treat my coworkers like shit just because I'm having a bad day. I don't like it when I see people hurting others."
"I don't either. But I don't exactly fight back..." If I did, most of the hospital staff would be dead by now. "I'm an easy target." Alison tried to feign an innocent smile, trying her best to look like a wounded puppy.
"The way I saw Kathleen treating you was disrespectful." Emily grumbled. She cracked her knuckles, though whether she did it consciously or subconsciously was lost on Alison. "And then there was that back and forth between you and Doctor Hastings."
She noticed that?
Of course she'd noticed their tension. She was a detective.
"Ah, so you caught that?" Alison looked sheepish.
Emily saw the timid expression on her face. She saw her posture change.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She gently touched Alison's arm.
Keeping to the promise she made.
Emily was as good as her word. She told Alison she'd never make her talk about something if she didn't want to.
Alison focused on the feel of the brunette's fingertips against her skin. Her touch felt like fire. She had to concentrate on keeping her eyes on the road and not staring at Emily's palm against her flesh.
"I don't mind," she said softly after a few seconds. "It's not what it looks like. I don't dislike Spencer. And she doesn't dislike me. We just have a strange sort of history. It has nothing to do with work. It's a family thing."
"You and Spencer?" Emily raised a single eyebrow, forming an unspoken question mark.
Alison could see the wheels turning in her head. Emily was thinking about how they had a similar build. Only Spencer had brown hair and Alison was blonde. Spencer was lanky. Alison was a little more filled out. Both smart. Both unbelievably headstrong. Both professional and polished, but in different ways.
"After my parents died I went to live with my Aunt Mary. My mom's sister." Her Aunt Mary had saved her, stepping in when she didn't have to.
Alison wasn't sure what would have happened to her…who she would have ended up with if her aunt hadn't taken her in. She shuddered to think about it.
"Mary was Spencer's biological mother." Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, red splotches appearing on her delicate white knuckles. "She gave Spencer up at birth…for a lot of different reasons." She tried not to go back to her past. She fought it. "Spencer was adopted by Veronica Hastings…Chief Hastings." She corrected herself.
Even outside the hospital, the woman pulled rank.
"That would make you two…cousins?" Emily tried to digest the information.
"And half-sisters. My aunt was my mom's identical twin. Twins share the same DNA." Alison watched Emily's face, sparked by intrigue. "She raised me. She was the only person I had…" A sad look washed across her face. "I lost her two years ago." She peeled her eyes away from the road just long enough to make eye contact with Emily. "Cancer."
In the end, Alison had helped her by giving her the drugs that had ended her life. She couldn't bear to see her in pain. Mary's last words had been "I love you, sweet girl. I'll see you on the other side."
She probably wouldn't see her aunt again if there was a Heaven. There would be no other side for her. Just fire and brimstone. If those places were even real.
"I'm so sorry. That really sucks." Emily furrowed her brow, almost as if hearing about the death made her angry.
Alison was surprised to hear the last part of Emily's statement.
"That really sucks."
Most of the time condolences came with lighthearted sadness and stupid shit about God and Heaven. No one ever told the truth.
Emily was right.
It does suck.
It was just another reason to like the brunette. She said what was on her mind, without fear of consequence. Alison liked people who were blunt and to the point.
"It definitely sucked." It was a relief to say it out loud. Had she ever acknowledged it out loud before? She wanted to scream it from the mountaintops.
Mary didn't deserve all the pain she'd gone through, though once when she was in a drug induced haze she'd told Alison that maybe it was karma for her mistakes.
"I should have done more about your parents…about my father."
Alison told her she'd done the best she could. Mary was terrified of her father and his men. Alison later found out they had threatened her life if she talked.
She'd gotten her own child to safety. She'd managed to hide her pregnancy. It wasn't that hard. She wasn't in contact with her parents. She'd cut them off years before she got pregnant.
She stayed in contact with her sister, who was pregnant with Alison around the same time she was pregnant with Spencer. Mary had tried to help her. She had tried to be the light that guided her out of their father's darkness. But Jessica DiLaurentis was lost, and not even her twin sister could reach her.
When Mary's pregnancy started to show she took a trip out of state, alerting only the father of the child, Peter Hastings…an adulterer who already had a child with his wife.
Peter was a cheater, but he wasn't a deadbeat. He'd agreed to adopt the baby girl in secrecy.
Mary's family never found out about Spencer, and Spencer was better for it. The only reason Spencer knew was because she did a DNA swab for a project in high school and found out her biological mom wasn't Veronica Hastings. She hadn't been able to let it go.
Her obsession had led her to answers she wasn't ready for. She had confronted Mary, full of anger and resentment. She didn't know the truth of why her mother had given her up, so she would go to the grave hating her.
"My aunt was the only constant I had after my parents died. She took me in, even after she'd given up her own child seven years earlier. I've felt a lot of guilt over the years…" Lie. Or was it? "…about what Spencer must have felt like when she found out and she saw us together. An orphan and the mother she'd never known. But the thing is…my aunt…she gave Spencer up to give her a better life. My grandfather cut her off because she refused to go into the family business." The stupid fucking family business that had destroyed her childhood. "She didn't have the funds or the time to raise a child when she got pregnant." And she sure as hell wasn't about to put her baby in danger. "The only difference between me and Spencer is that I came with a trust fund and plenty of money."
Alison turned the wheel. They were about a mile from their destination.
"I don't fault Spencer for feeling jilted. I would feel that way, too. And to her credit she doesn't hate me. She doesn't blame me. She loves her mother. Veronica raised her with a lot of love. And even though we share blood, we're not family. We come from two different worlds. She had a loving stable home. For me, things were very different. Mary is the only parent I really remember."
There was a silence in the car as Emily took everything in.
"I'm sorry about your parents." Emily touched her arm.
Alison flinched.
A hand on her knee.
Her brother ripping it away and dragging her away from her mom and dad.
A barrage of angry footsteps.
"Run. Go hide."
She remembered running up the stairs so fast that she was out of breath. She'd darted into Jason's room and dived to the floor and crawled underneath his bed.
There was screaming and shouting from downstairs. Bodies rolling against the floor. Furniture being knocked in to. Swearing. Yelling.
She'd closed her eyes and slapped her hands over her ears.
Those are the kinds of memories she had of her parents.
"I'm not sorry." About killing them. About anything. They deserved it. Though she wished she could remember that night. The night the little monster inside of her had been born. "They were terrible people. Ending up with my Aunt Mary was a blessing."
Emily quietly took in the information, processing it.
Alison thought about her conversation with Emily during the autopsy when they had debated on whether terrible people deserved to be tortured. Alison realized she'd gone a little too dark, so she added,
"They certainly didn't deserve to die the way they did though. It haunts me that I couldn't do anything to stop them." The knife in her hand felt so good…until she saw Jason. "They were awful people…" She managed to drum up a few tears, "But they were still my parents. And seeing them like that…"
She laid her hand against the console, knowing that Emily would take it immediately. The brunette didn't disappoint. She gripped Alison's hand and Alison let a tiny smile slip out.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to bring you down." Alison's mouth felt dry. Cottony. She had never opened up to anyone besides her therapists. And she'd lied to them. She felt like she could be honest with Emily.
"You didn't bring me down." She laced her fingers into Alison's. "I want to know you, Alison. I want you to know me, and to know that you can trust me. I'm here for you."
"Thank you, Emily."
Emily seemed perplexed with her appreciation, like perhaps it was just normal human nature to be there for people.
Maybe that's what having a soul meant. Being there for people. Caring.
Alison turned into a parking lot, pulling up to a little French Restaurant. Emily recognized the place. She'd had take-out once or twice, but had never actually been inside the restaurant.
As soon as Alison parked the car Emily fell all over herself to get over to open her door for her.
"A scholar and a gentlewoman." Alison smiled, tucking her wavy curls behind her ears.
She took Emily's hand and led her inside.
"Ah, Miss DiLaurentis. We have your table ready to go." A man in a suit and tie greeted her like an old friend…or a butler of some kind.
"I frequent." Alison blushed, looking at Emily. "It's close to the hospital and it's quaint."
"It really is." Emily tilted her head and looked up at the paintings of France.
"A little slice of Paris." Alison hummed happily. It was her happy place. She linked her arm into Emily's. "I've always wanted to go."
"You've never been?"
Alison seemed very comfortable financially. Emily assumed she'd traveled a bit.
Alison looked directly into Emily's eyes, piercing through them with a sexy gaze.
"The city of love? No, I've not been. I've never found the right person to go with." She reached up and played with Emily's hair. "You know, you'd look really good on top of the Eiffel tower, wind blowing in your hair." She tangled her fingers through the brunette's long locks. "Maybe we could go one day."
"I'd like that." Emily smiled.
They were seated at a table and listened as the waiter listed off the wine specials.
"Do you mind?" Alison glanced at the wine menu. Would it be dangerous to have Emily around alcohol? "If I partake?"
"It's perfectly fine." Emily picked up the menu and started scanning the appetizers. "Would you like an appetizer?"
I'd like YOU for my appetizer.
She wanted to eat her out. Then eat her out again. Then go back for dessert. She was convinced she could survive on a diet of nothing but Emily Fields.
Alison smiled sweetly,
"That would be lovely. I'm quite famished."
"What do you like?" Emily questioned.
"Surprise me." She lifted her brow, her tongue darting to her top lip.
She knew that Emily's order would tell her a lot about the brunette.
The detective settled on the Baked Camembert.
A woman of good taste.
Molten French cheese and a blend of spices with crunchy toasted bread covered in olive oil.
Not afraid of adventure.
"So." Alison reached across the table. "Tell me about yourself." She tucked Emily's hair behind her ear. Her palm lingered against her cheek, her fingertips grazing her jaw.
"What do you want to know?" Emily licked her lips.
"Everything." Alison gave her a flirty smirk. "You fascinate me, Emily Fields."
The waiter put down a bowl of complementary cherries. Alison didn't hesitate to pop one in her mouth.
After a few seconds she pulled the cherry stem out…tied in a knot. She saw Emily go rigid in the booth.
I bet she's already wet.
"Ask away. I'm an open book." Emily reached for her water.
"You most certainly are." Alison really liked that about her.
Most people lied and cheated and kept secrets. But there was no bullshit with Emily.
"What's your favorite color?" Alison played with the cherry stem.
Emily's cheeks flushed with color. Alison could only imagine the dirty thoughts running through her mind.
"Blue." Emily stared into Alison's crystal blue irises, a smile on her face. "What about you?"
"Red." Blood red. "You would look really amazing in royal blue." Alison traced her eyes over Emily's body.
"You look incredibly sexy in your dress." Emily cocked a single eyebrow at her.
Wait until you find out I'm not wearing underwear.
"What kind of music do you like?" Alison questioned, slipping her foot out of her high heel.
Beneath the table she slid her toes against Emily's ankle and started rubbing it.
Emily smirked at her. A dirty smirk. A smirk that stated they would definitely be fucking soon.
"I like all kinds of music. Not really a fan of country, but that's about it. I listen to a lot of different things. I'm on a Miles Davis kick right now."
Alison nodded.
Miles Davis reminds you of Maya. Maya was a musician. A jazz player. And she shouldn't have been at Lyndon's house that night.
"I like jazz and classical music. It's soothing in the operating room." And when she tortured her victims. "Although sometimes it's fun to rock out."
"You like to party?" Emily leaned against the table, reaching for a cherry.
Alison's foot slowly grazed the brunette's leg, moving up towards her thigh. She saw a subtle change in Emily's breathing pattern.
She so wants me.
"I used to party." It was a lie to make her seem normal. "But I don't really have the time for it anymore."
She watched as Emily rolled the cherry stem around with her fingers, twirling the little red ball in the air. She pressed the heel of her foot between Emily's thighs and felt a heat radiating there. She gently used her foot to massage her center.
Emily let out a surprised breath and lowered the top half of her body slightly over the table as she bit her lip, fighting back a grin.
Alison knew if she kept going she would push her into an orgasm in the middle of the restaurant. As much as she wanted to see that she knew she needed to slow down, so she pulled back, letting her foot rest against the edge of Emily's chair.
She watched as Emily slowly slid the cherry in her mouth. She closed her lips around it and popped the stem off. She chewed it slowly with exaggerated motions, savoring it. A sweet scent filled the air. Alison felt like she could taste it in her own mouth. She wanted to jump across the table and rip her clothes off.
"Did you grow up in Rosewood?" Alison asked.
She could see the heat in Emily's cheeks. She could see the perspiration on her brow.
I turn her on. She could feel her own damp thighs and she had to swallow her hormones. She turns me on, too.
Chemistry.
"We moved here when I was seven."
Seven. The same age Alison had been when she went full Lizzie Borden on her family.
"My dad was reassigned here for duty." Emily reached for her water again.
To cool herself off.
"I can't believe I've never seen you before." How could this gorgeous beauty have gone unnoticed to her trained eye for so long? "Where did you go to school?"
"I wasn't in the district for Rosewood High, so I ended up at Mill Creek High instead."
Mill Creek was a little rough around the edges. No wonder Emily was tough.
"What about you?" Emily asked.
"I went to Sheridan Prep. I was a year ahead in middle school, so I graduated at seventeen and went straight into a pre-med program at Penn State. Got my PHD at the University of Pennsylvania." Alison popped another cherry in her mouth, pulling the stem out slowly. "What about you?"
She already knew some of Emily's story. She already knew the reason she'd become a cop.
Maya.
"I…" Emily faltered. "I hit a rough patch after high school. I started drinking."
Interesting omission of Maya.
She had been open and honest about everything so far. Maybe she just wasn't ready to talk about Maya.
"I was kind of aimless for a while." The brunette touched her water glass, but didn't pick it up. She circled the rim with the tip of her index finger. "Toby is actually the one who set me straight. I became interested in law enforcement. Studied my ass off. Worked my way up the ranks to detective."
"You seem very dedicated to your job."
You credit it for saving your life…for giving you focus after Maya died. A purpose.
"I am." Emily nodded just as the waiter came by with Alison's wine order and the appetizer. "I've hit a few speed bumps." She reached out for the Baked Camembert, making Alison a plate, and then one for herself. "My dad died a year ago."
"Oh?" Alison lifted her brows. "I'm sorry."
What happened? Was it bloody? Did you see him? What did he look like?
She wanted to know it all. Every detail.
"He was killed in a firefight overseas." Emily's eyes glossed over with tears, which prompted Alison to reach out and cup Emily's hand. She had forgotten how grief hit normal people. "He saved three people that day." She sighed. "That was dad. Always putting everyone else first."
A trait that Emily seemed to have picked up from him. She'd noticed that Emily had made the plate for her first and then made her own.
Her dad had clearly taught her some really good values. What must it be like to have a loving father? Alison couldn't relate.
"I'm sure you miss him very much." There was a pang in her heart as she thought about Jason.
Emily closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. She still remembered the last time she heard his voice.
o ~ O ~ o
~ Then ~
The computer kept freezing, the image of her father lagging. He was decked out in his uniform, sitting in the common area of the bunk. His team was at the mess hall, but he had wanted to spend his dinner eating with his daughter…who was having breakfast while he ate his dinner because of the time difference.
"You're looking really good, Emmy." He was admiring her sleek detective-wear. She wasn't in a uniform anymore, but she was still an officer of the law. "How is it going, Detective?"
He was beaming.
"Out on the streets catching bad guys." Just like her father.
"That's what I keep telling my guys." He was proud of her. So proud. "You worked hard to get where you are, baby girl."
"I learned from the best." Emily took a bite of her bagel, grinning at her dad. She was insanely proud of him, too, though she worried for his safety.
She knew it was the same for him. He worried for her safety, too. That's what it meant when someone you loved put on a uniform.
"You taking care of yourself?" He asked, reaching for a piece of a buttered roll, his hand lagging off-screen because of the poor connection.
"Yes, sir. And Toby has my back every day." Emily sipped on a glass of orange juice. She didn't mention the part where he'd saved her life after she'd nearly died from alcohol poisoning.
"Always liked that Cavanaugh kid. He's a good egg." Her dad nodded.
"He is." Emily smiled. "When he's not on my ass about something."
"Easy with the language, kiddo. You may be grown, but you'll always be my little girl." He smiled.
"Dad, I'm twenty eight years old."
"You're still my baby. You'll always be the newborn who pooped in my arms in the hospital." His smile widened into a grin.
"Nice imagery while I'm trying to eat." Emily scoffed.
"Speaking of…" He sipped on something in a plastic cup. "You had dinner with your mom recently? She said she hasn't heard from you in a while. I think she's worried about you."
"I'm just busy." Not entirely a lie, but also an excuse to keep her from having to see her mom.
"Look, I know you and your Ma don't get on with one another well these days, but could you do this old man a favor?"
Emily groaned. She knew what he was going to ask.
"Look in on her from time to time. I'm sure that house gets really lonely. And I worry about her." The wrinkles in his brow told her he was serious.
"She's fine, dad. She has lunch with her friends on Monday and she goes to Mahjong every Wednesday and Friday. And she's in this book club that meets once a week."
"For my peace of mind. Just go see her. Have dinner. Talk to her. I know you're busy with work, but carve out a little time for her, Em. Even if it's just once a week. We won't be here forever, you know." He sighed, a really big sigh.
It was almost foreboding.
Once a week.
"Once a week." Emily nodded, chewing on his words. "I can do once a week."
"Cross your heart?" He tightened his face like he used to do when she was little and he wanted her to listen. The screen froze for a moment, capturing that image of him.
"Cross my heart." Emily marked an X across her chest. "I'll even call her up and see if she's free tomorrow night."
A decision that Emily would always be thankful for, because her mother hadn't been alone when the officers showed up. She wasn't alone when she crumbled to the floor and screamed her husband's name for all the neighborhood to hear. She'd had Emily to fall next to her and pull her into a hug as her body violent rocked with grief.
"That's my girl." He threw a wink and a smile her way, like it was their little secret. There was a loud rumbling on her dad's end. "Duty calls. I've got to run. I love you, baby."
His last words to her, other than the saved voicemails that she'd cherish for the rest of her life.
"I love you, too, dad."
The screen froze on his smile for a good long thirty seconds before it went black and the video stopped. She'd managed to screenshot it so she could save that smile for when she really needed it.
She was glad she did.
It was the last image she had of him.
He'd been smiling at her.
She would never forget it.
o ~ O ~ o
"Losing him must have been hard." Alison tried her best to sound sympathetic. She sure as hell didn't miss her father, so she didn't know what it was like for Emily.
"I have broken fragmented dreams about him sometimes." Emily peered down at her hands, which were resting against the table. She concentrated on them. "I remember hugging him. I could smell him. That hug made me feel a physical pain in my chest. It was still there when I woke up."
She pinched the thin skin between her thumb and index finger, like it was a way to remind her that she was awake. She saw Alison's small delicate hand appear on top of hers, squeezing it, another reminder that she was awake. She looked up at the blonde.
"Have you had other dreams of him?"
"There was one time we were talking. It was at my grandparent's house. He said he had to go back, but I told him I didn't want to. I told him I wanted to stay with him. He touched my cheek and told me that I couldn't stay there. That people needed me here."
Her lips twitched into a sad smile.
Alison wasn't sure about Emily's belief system. Maybe she believed that loved ones could reach across the realms. She oftentimes felt like Jason was with her, guiding her.
"Maybe he was visiting you." She thought it would sound stupid, but Emily smiled.
"Maybe." She liked to hold on to that as a possibility. She faced Alison. "I think you would have liked him."
"I'm sure I would have." As long as he didn't know the real me. "What about your mom?" Alison slowly lifted her hand, reaching for the plate that Emily had prepared for her.
"She and I don't always get along…"
Alison remembered the way Emily had turned cold when her mother entered her room at the hospital.
"May I ask…" Alison paused and then hesitated, "…may I ask what happened between you two? I saw the way you reacted when she came to the hospital. I wasn't going to say anything. It looked…personal. But you seemed so hurt. And she seemed so worried."
Alison's parents had never worried about her. They had tried to put her in situations that would have made any normal parent irate.
"My mother and I…" Emily reached up and touched a strand of hair that was out of place. Alison noticed she did that when she was nervous. "We have a complicated history."
"Emily…" She touched her arm. "If anyone can understand the complexity between a child and their parents, it's me. You can tell me anything. I want you to know that. But only if you want to."
A half-smile tugged at Emily's lips. A genuine smile that could tell no lies.
But the smile slowly faded and a sigh came out of her mouth.
"When she found out I was gay she said some really hurtful things. It hasn't been easy coming back from it." Her face was a mask of stoicism, but beneath it Alison could see the pain.
To feel unloved by the woman who birthed you…that she understood.
You blame her. You blame her for Maya's death because she questioned who you were. She made you afraid of who you are. And you think things would be different otherwise.
Things probably would have been different. Because Maya was not supposed to be fucking Lyndon. She shouldn't have been in his life.
Alison knew for sure that she hadn't slept with him that night, but she had watched Lyndon enough to know that he'd slipped his dick in her more than once. And Maya had been amenable to it. Even when she was dating Emily, though Alison didn't know at the time that Maya had a girlfriend.
The girl hadn't been a saint, but she hadn't deserved to die. Alison felt something akin to guilt for the events of that night. She had been replaying it in her head since she realized the connection Emily had with Maya. If she had timed things differently…if she had done things differently…
If she had only gotten there earlier.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
She saw Maya's cold dead eyes staring back at her.
It had been such a shock to see her.
I would never do anything to hurt you, Emily. If I could go back I would have been better. I would have done things differently. Maya would be alive. As much as it might hurt my chances with you, she would be alive. You wouldn't have to bear the brunt of her loss.
"I'm sorry about your mom." Sorry she didn't accept you. Sorry that she was a miserable piece of human garbage. She should have recognized how special you are. She should have loved you unconditionally.
Then again, Alison knew a bit about mothers who didn't view their children as human. Jason had done his best to shield her from the worst of it, but she knew. She knew the monster that lived inside of her mom. She knew what their parents were. She knew how they wanted to parade them around as a perfect family despite the hidden eccentricities and their wrongdoings.
"It's a work in progress." Emily admitted, staring at the appetizer in front of her. "The last thing I want is my mother's words defining me."
"If I helps, I define you as a beautifully unique individual. And I'd like very much to know you better." Alison stretched across the table to touch Emily's fingers.
Emily smiled at her. She took a bite of the cheesy bread.
"You know, you're quite the enigma, Detective Fields." Alison took a bite of her toasted cheese.
"You seem like the kind of person who enjoys puzzles." Emily invited Alison to piece her together.
There seemed to be a double meaning to her words.
Emily sank her teeth into the food in front of her.
"This Camembert is delicious."
YOU'RE delicious. Alison had to stop from screaming.
"I can never quite get the recipe right." Emily admired the dish.
"Oh? You cook?" Was there anything that Emily's Fields couldn't do?
"My grandmother was huge on cooking. We started with traditional Filipino dishes, but branched out into other ethnic foods. My dad loved it when she was teaching me all about Barbecue." She laughed. "He got to eat all of our attempts at perfecting it." There was a sadness in her tone. "It was before he was called into active duty overseas." She scrunched her nose, furrowing her brows. "I can't remember if our last dinner together was Barbecue or Kaldereta."
"Kaldereta?"
"It's a Beef Stew of sorts. We usually only served it at holiday gatherings, but it was one of my dad's favorites. He loved Barbecue, too. Before he left we had Kaldereta one night and Barbecue another. But I can't remember which one was our last meal."
It seemed to really bother her. It seemed important. Little details seemed to matter. Because she loved him.
"What's your favorite dish to cook?" Alison leaned in towards the table, elbows forward, fascinated by the brunette.
"Frittatas. Empanadas. Three-bean vegetable soup. Liver. I have a lot of favorites. But I don't really have much time to cook these days." She didn't have the incentive. She was obsessed with her job.
"What's your favorite food? Like say you had to eat one dish for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
"I'm fairly simple…"
I doubt that, Emily. There is nothing simple about you.
"Noodles of some variety. Pasta." Emily swirled her toast in the cheese and took a bite. She closed her eyes and let out a small moan that sent a shooting pang into Alison's core. "God, this is good." She opened her eyes and peered at the blonde.
Don't orgasm at this table. Alison warned herself.
The brunette smiled at her.
Had Emily known what she was doing? Had she done it on purpose?
"What about you?" Emily leaned forward, eyes still on Alison's. "What's your favorite thing to eat?"
Alison had to refrain from answering you, a thought she'd had a hundred times.
"Chicken Marsala." Alison reached for her wine glass. She swirled the red liquid around and then sniffed it before taking a sip.
"How is it?" Emily asked.
Not as sweet as you'll be on my tongue…
"Sweet. Has good legs."
"I have no idea what that means." Emily chuckled.
Her poison was liquor.
Alison didn't go into specifics. She tried to veer the topic away from alcohol. Instead, she asked Emily about her childhood. She could tell Emily wanted to ask about her childhood, but she wasn't sure how to broach the topic without bringing up her parents. Emily wanted to ask her about what she'd witnessed that night. But she didn't. Instead she asked for better memories of growing up with her aunt.
Alison was in the middle of telling Emily about a trip she'd taken to Maine to see the whales when there was a large clatter from the kitchen.
The sound of a pile of plates crashing and shattering made both of them jump.
Alison knew why she'd jumped, but it bothered her to see that Emily jumped, too.
She saw a wild look of fear in the brunette's eyes. Emily's hand was tense against the table. Alison delicately reached over and touched her, bringing her back into reality.
She saw Emily's breathing slowly start to settle.
"Something traumatic happened to you." Alison curled her fingers into the palm of Emily's hand.
At first Emily thought she was talking about Maya. Then Alison continued,
"Being shot fundamentally changes the psyche. Physically, I know you feel whole again, but emotionally it manifests in many different forms of PTSD. It's okay if you're still dealing." She paused and then shook her head with an apologetic laugh. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to doctor you."
Though she wanted to play doctor with her.
"It's fine." Emily relaxed her stance.
"I understand. I…I resonate." A flash of Jason's dead body.
He wasn't supposed to be dead.
"Thank you." Emily squeezed her hand.
There was a moment of silence in which they both considered leaning across the table for a tender kiss. Emily reached over the table and touched Alison's cheek, her fingertips landing against her soft blonde hair.
What are you waiting for? Alison was begging with her eyes. She wanted to feel Emily's lips on hers again. She wanted to feel the passion she'd felt in the medical library.
But Emily slowly lowered her hand.
She had been flirting with her non-stop since coming into the hospital, but she chose now to become shy?
We should be back at my place fucking right now. I should have my face buried in between your legs and your fingers should be tangled in my hair. I want to hear you screaming my name.
Alison reached for her wine and took another sip.
They spent the next two hours talking over dinner and dessert. Alison had a few more glasses of wine. Her shift wasn't until the next evening, so she knew she could sleep in. That meant Emily could sleep over, too. Perhaps Emily would be more amenable to affection in the privacy of her bedroom.
Emily paid the check without blinking, even though Alison knew that they had racked up hundreds of dollars worth of food and wine. It wasn't a cheap place.
Alison was a little tipsy, so Emily put her arm around her waist and pulled her close to keep her steady. They walked outside along the side of the building near the alley where Alison had parked.
The blonde broke away from Emily, eager to get to the car, eager to get Emily into her bed. She dug around for her keys, fumbling, nearly dropping them.
"Hey, whoa, there is no way in hell you're driving like this." Emily reached out to her. She was an arm's length away.
"I wasn't planning on it, lest I be arrested." She grinned, imagining Emily frisking her against the car.
Her large skilled fingers against her body...
Maybe I should let her arrest me. She toyed with the idea, but logic won out in the end.
She turned around to hand Emily the keys, but her heel got caught against a crack in the sidewalk. Emily's arms shot out to steady her. The blonde fell safely against her chest, giggling in embarrassment.
This isn't me. I don't get drunk and lose control. What is happening to me?
Her face was buried against the brunette, so she didn't see Emily flinch when she felt Alison's weight hit her still-tender chest.
Alison's laughter soon turned to relaxation as she felt the taut, yet soft embrace of Emily's body. She felt safe in her arms. She could smell her body wash, her shampoo.
"Are you alright?" Emily noticed how still the doctor had become in her arms.
Alison licked her lips and started to tremble. Her heart thudded against Emily's chest. Goosebumps percolated all over her body.
What was this feeling?
She didn't know how to respond.
Emily hooked her fingers beneath Alison's chin and tilted her head up.
"Alison…" Her soft sensitive eyes found Alison's icy cold gaze. "Are you okay?"
Alison pressed her toes against the edge of her heels. Her eyes darted to Emily's mouth. Even though she was in heels, Emily still had a good three inches on her.
Alison pushed up on her heels and her mouth dusted over Emily's, light as a feather floating through the wind.
"I'd like very much for you to kiss me." Her breath was hot and smelled of sweet wine.
Emily gently grasped the back of her neck, tangling her fingers through her bouncy curls.
I curled my hair just for you. Alison thought.
There was no hesitation like there had been back in the restaurant.
Was that what Emily had been waiting for? Consent?
Emily cupped Alison's cheek with her other hand and gently guided Alison's face until their lips met with a soft passion.
It was different than the kiss they'd shared in the hospital. Emily took her time, savoring the taste of Alison's lips. She had imagined a kiss like this so many times since she'd met the doctor. She'd visualized it when she was in bed late at night touching herself, pretending it was Alison.
The kiss was purposeful. Driven. Slow. Methodical. Erotic.
She wanted the blonde so bad.
Alison melted into the embrace. She'd never been kissed like this before. In a way, it was terrifying. Emily met her gaze and Alison felt a wave of emotions she'd never felt before.
It frightened her.
She closed her eyes and got lost in the motions of Emily's mouth. The detective moved her lips against hers gently, but with a firm conviction that stated exactly what she wanted.
It was Alison who pushed for more. She opened her eyes and moved her body against Emily's, slowly backing her into the brick wall behind them.
It's just us. No one will see…
Emily's lips parted, a breathy moan escaping. Alison used the opportunity to explore her mouth with her tongue.
When Emily's eyes met hers again Alison looked away, trying not to let her see the monster inside.
She slipped her hand underneath Emily's shirt, tracing her fingertips over Emily's toned abs.
Emily slid her palm down from the small of Alison's back to cup her ass cheek.
Alison mewled into the kiss when she felt Emily's fingers slowly lifting the hem of her dress, teasing her with the cool night air.
The blonde laid her palm against Emily's collar bone.
She felt Emily's fingers touch her bare thigh, the one without the scar. She would have to be mindful to keep Emily away from that scar. She didn't want the detective to look at her differently.
Emily gasped into the kiss when she realized Alison had forgone wearing underwear. Her fingertips hit the wet flesh waiting for her. Alison's stomach clenched and she shuddered. She broke the kiss and moaned.
She was going to come in the middle of the fucking sidewalk.
It's been so long since I've had a really good fuck…
God, I need her.
Tonight.
In a bed.
"Your place or mine?" Alison lowered her forehead against Emily's shoulder, wriggling, trying to get Emily to slip a finger inside of her, but the brunette hesitated. "Emily…" She slowly lifted her head and moved against Emily's motions. She kissed her…hard. "I want you."
I've wanted you since the moment you came into my hospital.
Perhaps even before that. Perhaps she had been killing not only for justice, but because she had an inherent need to see Emily.
Emily moved her fingers back and forth, eliciting another moan from the blonde. She bucked against the detective's touch and tried once again to get her fingers inside. She felt Emily's fingertip slip in and she curved her hips to take in more, but Emily pulled back and let out a sigh.
"We shouldn't." She whispered against Alison's mouth. "Not yet."
Emily knew all too well how their one-night stand would end. Hers always ended the same way. She went on a downward shame spiral and never called the girl again.
She didn't want that with Alison. She wanted more. She wanted to get to know her in a way she'd not gotten to know the others.
"We've been dancing around this for weeks. Can't you feel it?" Alison guided Emily's other hand over the curve of her hip, up towards her breast. "Come on, we're both adults here. We don't have to play by some high school bullshit rules and hold hands for months before giving each other promise rings or whatever it is kids are doing these days. We're women…" She growled the word, "…and we know what we want." Alison traced Emily's shirt right above her healing scar. "I'll be gentle. I promise."
"It's not that." Emily touched her face. Her touch commanded such attention. Her fingers were hot. Her palm was sweating. Alison leaned into it. "I really like you, Alison."
"I really like you, too." Alison flashed her a flirty smile. I'd like you more with your fingers inside of me.
"I have…a…" Emily bit her lip as she thought of the string of women she'd brought home. "Ah…uh…sort of a history with this. And I want to give you more." She stroked her cheek. "You deserve more."
I don't deserve her. Alison looked at the conflicting emotions on the brunette's face. But God, I want her.
"We can talk about what I do or do not deserve after I've tasted every inch of you." Alison said through a heated breath. She dragged her tongue behind Emily's ear, down the length of her jaw. She imagined trailing her mouth down to her chest, sucking against her nipple and thrusting into her with a strap on. She had picked three new ones out the first night she'd seen Emily.
She felt Emily's palm against hers, between them, threading her fingers into hers.
"Alison." She touched her face again. Her touch was so divine. "Ali…"
Ali.
Alison froze.
She couldn't help it when her past slipped into her mind. All she could do was ride it out.
"You're okay, Ali. I'll protect you."
She closed her eyes and saw a flash of herself at seven. Locked in her brother's closet. Her mother and her brother arguing. She had her hands over her ears, so the sounds were muffled.
But she heard her mother's voice.
"You can't keep resisting."
"Leave me alone." Jason snapped.
"Just let me show you something."
"Mom…I don't want to. Please don't make me."
The warmth of Emily's arms snapped her back into reality.
"You're shivering." Emily pulled her coat off and laid it over Alison's shoulders. Alison wrapped the jacket around herself and she was bathing in a sea of Emily's aroma. "Let me take you home."
Alison could feel wetness pooling against her thighs. A warm liquid drizzled ever so slightly down her legs. She had been so close. Her insides were still pulsing with desire. She could still feel the phantom of Emily's finger inside of her.
Emily wrapped her arm around her and led her to the car, opening the door to the passenger's side and helping Alison inside.
She climbed in the driver's seat and Alison rattled off her address with a smirk,
"Now you can stalk me, too." She winked.
It was nearly midnight when Emily pulled into Alison's driveway. They had spent hours talking in the restaurant.
Alison's house wasn't what Emily was expecting. It was small. Not quite the mansion she'd pictured in her mind. It was still fairly large in comparison to houses on her side of town, but it was sensible. Modest.
Emily walked Alison inside, her arm around Alison's back, guiding her through the front door. Alison wasn't nearly as drunk as she was pretending to be. She just needed to get Emily in the house.
"Your place is nice." Emily smiled, closing the door behind them.
She admired the portraits on the wall. Photos of mountains and sunsets and dolphins. There was a glass case that had smaller family photos, mostly candid shots of her and Jason. There was one of a little five-year-old blonde showing off a missing front tooth with her big brother grinning behind her. Another, a selfie of her Aunt Mary and her on a beach somewhere when she was a teenager.
The detective teetered between the door and the living room. She had to be at work in seven hours, though Toby would probably gleefully give her the day off since she was still recuperating.
Alison reached for Emily's hand, gripping her wrist to move her forward. She placed her index and middle finger against her pulse point.
Aroused. Excited. Invigorated. Curious.
She tugged on her wrist to guide her towards the couch before dropping her hand.
"My humble abode." Alison languidly moved across the living room, glancing back to make sure Emily was following.
When she turned around her eyes landed on an end table, not much unlike one Jason had in his room when they were kids.
Her head started pounding.
Her vision went white.
"You have to learn." A woman's voice.
"I don't want to." Her brother arguing.
Alison squeezed her eyes shut.
"Where is your sister?"
She pushed her childhood away, separated herself from it.
"Are you feeling okay?" Emily's face was awash with concern.
"Alison, smile for the camera, dear."
Another flash.
"Put your hand here, baby." Her mother laid it against Jason's leg. "Let's do another one." She was enthusiastic about it, waving the camera in the air in excitement.
That's when Jason lost his mind and started cussing at his parents.
"I um…I actually feel quite faint." Alison brushed the back of her hand against her forehead as if checking for a fever. "I think the wine is hitting me harder than I realized."
But it wasn't the wine that was sending shivers through her body.
"Would you…" I don't want to be alone. "I don't want to be forward, but can you please stay?" Alison reached for her hand, clutching it. "We won't do anything besides sleep. I promise."
She would manipulate her into staying. But she wouldn't manipulate her into having sex. Emily had said no. Alison understood that. She understood boundaries. She understood consent. She was a murderer. Not a monster.
She had to suppress a laugh.
A monster with morals.
She wanted to feel Emily's warm body next to hers. She wanted to smell the scent of her body wash. She just wanted her there.
"Of course I'll stay. It's the least I can do after you took such good care of me in the hospital." Emily didn't mind. If she wasn't at home she wasn't thinking about the bourbon in her cabinet.
Alison kicked off her heels and collapsed on to the couch. Emily took her cues from Alison and pulled her shoes off and took her place next to her.
Alison curled her legs up underneath her. She put her feet up against the arm of the couch and angled her body towards Emily, her knees overlapping Emily's legs. She propped her elbow up against the back of the couch and laid her chin in her palm. She knew her dress was hiking up, nearly exposing her naked flesh.
"Tell me more about yourself, Detective."
"I think we've covered it all from birth to present." Emily smiled. "How about you? What secrets do you have swirling around in here?" She pressed the tip of her index finger against Alison's temple.
The things in here would send you running, dear detective.
"You know," Emily's voice sounded as though she was trying to work through a puzzle, "back at the restaurant…when things were getting really heated I thought I saw something in your eyes…"
Oh, God. She saw. She knows. She's going to hate me.
Emily put her hand against Alison's knee. Alison's eyes slowly tracked down to where Emily was touching her. For once, she wasn't thinking of anything in her past. All she could see was Emily's kind touch. Not Wilden's disgusting hand. Not her father's firm calloused palm.
It was Emily. All she saw was Emily.
"It's like you were afraid to look at me." She heard Emily talking, but all she could see was Emily's hand on her knee. "Alison…" Emily's other hand touched her chin, lifting her head, "I'd like for you to look at me."
Alison tried to hold her gaze, tried to let her in. But she was too afraid. And Emily could see that.
"I had trouble looking in your eyes, too." Emily admitted. It's why she had so many one-night stands. She'd never have to look them in the eyes again.
Alison peered into Emily's eyes and her own eyes widened slightly.
Someone had hurt the brunette.
"I noticed that you froze after I pulled away from the kiss." Emily kept her hand against Alison's cheek.
She's observant. Astute. She cares.
"Did someone hurt you?" Emily questioned. She knew, because someone had hurt her, too.
The blonde felt like a bomb had gone off inside of her.
"It's more than what happened to your parents." Emily continued analyzing, continued reading her face.
She's a cop. Profiling is what she does.
Alison knew she had to choose her words carefully. She couldn't say anything that would lead Emily back to Darren Wilden or back to what she'd done to her parents.
"I have been…" Alison searched for the right word as she reached up to touch the hand that Emily was holding against her cheek, "…unlucky in love in the past. Something about being damaged goods, I suppose." She shrugged sadly.
Normally she had to fake this kind of thing, but she wasn't. Not with Emily.
Is this real? Is this how I really feel?
"You're not damaged." Emily shook her head. "What happens to us…it's not who we are. Everyone has baggage." Emily held her gaze. "But the thing about baggage is if you get sick of carrying it around you can chuck it away."
Alison blinked and slowly looked away.
"Alison, I'm never going to do anything you're uncomfortable with doing. And I would never ask you to tell me something you're not ready to tell me. I just want you to know that the door is open."
Alison leaned against her palm and sighed.
"I appreciate that." She smiled. "The same goes for you." She rubbed Emily's leg.
We'll just sleep. I promise.
Their bodies slowly angled towards each other. Their lips met, but only for a few brief seconds. Alison lowered her gaze. She glanced down at her legs and softly said,
"I was taken advantage of by a man once." She bit her lip, still unable to meet Emily's eyes. She had to tread carefully. "It's such a common thing that happens and I know so many others have had it worse than I did…"
Darren bought me things. He told me I was pretty. He said I was special. He didn't force me. He didn't hold me down. He didn't make me stay. He was nice to me. I bought into it.
But I was only thirteen.
Emily cupped her cheek, which prompted Alison to look at her. The brunette had a conflict of emotion in her eyes. A soft empathy. An angry fire.
"Never belittle your experiences. Your pain is valid." Her tone came out unwavering.
She had never told anyone about Darren Wilden. She wasn't going to give Emily his name. She could be traced back to Wilden's death.
"I don't remember it." Close your eyes. Block it out. You were on a beach. You didn't hear the noises or feel anything. "I was drunk."
He let me have beer. Just like Ian and Garrett let that girl have beer. Just like they got all of the girls in their videos drunk. That's what predators do. They make their prey feel at ease before they strike.
I let myself become the prey.
"It's not your fault." Jason adamantly stated in her head.
"I don't know what happened to him." Lie. "I don't remember most of it."
I remember every minute.
Emily pushed a kiss against her forehead.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you." She stroked her face lovingly.
Was that a natural thing to do? To comfort? To care?
Alison managed to hold eye contact with Emily. She saw something else swirling in her deep brown eyes. And she realized something.
"I had trouble looking in your eyes, too," she'd said.
"Someone hurt you, too." Alison touched her hand.
Who? I'll take a bone saw to them…
"A very long time ago." Emily swallowed. "I was dating this guy before I came out. We'd been together about three months. He cornered me in the locker room and tried to hold me down and assault me."
The viciousness of the thoughts Alison had at the mental image were splattered in blood and body parts.
What's his name, Emily? I'll put him on my list. I'll fucking maim him.
"He ripped my pants off, but I got away. Kicked the shit out of him and gave him a black eye and a broken jaw. My dad had me in self-defense classes while all the other babies were in Mommy and Me. He didn't play around when it came to his little girl's protection."
Emily spoke about her father with such warmth. Such compassion. A love that Alison had never felt for her own father.
"My dad went after him. He was ready to kill him. I'll never forget the look on his face when he grabbed his service weapon and walked out the front door." Emily's face darkened.
Her father had killed men in war. Her father would have killed that boy for his child, too.
"He didn't pull the gun on anyone, of course. I don't know what he said to Ben and his parents, but right after he talked to them Ben turned himself in. He went to jail."
Ben. She had a name. I could probably bribe someone on the inside to take care of him…
"He hung himself six weeks into his sentence."
Good.
"Every time I would ask my dad about what he said that day he told me it didn't matter. He said I was his baby girl and no one was ever allowed to hurt me."
I promise I'll never hurt her, Mr. Fields. Ever. A silent prayer to a man moved on. I'll protect her. I swear.
She'd never met the man, and she'd never get the chance to meet him, but she respected him. She admired him. He'd raised a wonderful woman.
She also liked the fact that he would kill for his child. She could only imagine the threats the army man must have uttered that day. It was enough to send a rapist piece of shit to jail, and enough that the would-be-rapist's parents apparently supported it.
Her father never would have supported her.
"GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!"
A hand reaching out to grab her as she tried to scramble away.
Knuckles cracking.
A blur of blonde hair.
Alison closed her eyes and leaned against Emily, burying her head into the crook of her neck.
"Tell me more about your dad," she said quietly, pushing visions of her own father away.
Emily swallowed a knot in her throat. The pain of losing him was still very real. But she managed that pain by remembering all the times he'd been there for her. She honored his memory by sharing her pride that he was her father.
"He was brave." Emily's gaze drifted to some faraway place that seemed beyond reach. She reached up and mindlessly started threading her fingers through Alison's hair. "And kind. He taught me so much." She smiled.
She'd learned how to defend herself. How to change a tire. How to have a good work ethic. How to manage money.
He taught her patience and humor and humility.
And he taught her that she was perfect just the way she was.
o ~ O ~ o
~Then~
Shortly after the assault Emily found out that her dad was being called overseas again. He'd only been home for six months. It felt as if though his visits kept getting shorter. She always felt on edge when he was being deployed. It sent her emotions into a tailspin.
The night she found out he was leaving in less than five weeks she ended up in a bar with a fake ID. She didn't look a day over 16, but it was not the kind of bar that checked IDs.
That's where she met Maya. She was with the band.
She played the electric keyboard and sang like an amazing Goddess. She had smooth brown skin and the most beautiful curls atop her head. She dazzled the entire room, but her eyes never strayed from Emily's.
It was only when Emily went to talk to her that she realized the girl wasn't over 16 herself. They hit it off. Emily fell hard and fast for Maya's spirited artsy soul.
The only problem was that she couldn't tell her parents about her.
She could see her dad keeping a watchful eye on her. She could tell that he knew something was going on. Her mother could, too. So she hid in the shadows. She retreated into herself.
She had been talking on the phone to Maya when her dad appeared in the doorway one night. She quickly told Maya she'd call her back.
"Who were you talking to?" He leaned against the door frame.
He was in his uniform. His stance was tough. He'd come for a reason.
"Oh, just…Hanna." She uttered nervously.
He didn't look like he believed her.
"Got a second?" he stepped forward, the floor creaking beneath his weight.
"Sure." Emily nodded.
He walked over and perched on the side of her bed. Emily looked at him timidly.
"Your mother and I think you're acting strange. Do you want to tell me why?" His lips were pressed into a tight line.
"I…don't know what you're talking about." She averted his gaze.
"Is it about the boy? The one who…" The tendons in his neck tensed. They were bulging. Emily could see his veins stand out.
"No." Emily shook her head.
"I know you're keeping some kind of secret. I can see it. I know I'm not home as much as I used to be. But I know you, Emmy. You've been withdrawn. You've been jumpy…" To avoid getting caught making out with Maya. "At first I thought it was just because I'm leaving again, but that's not it. Something is eating you." He reached out and touched her knee.
"No…it's not…it's not anything." She knew he could tell she was lying.
"If you need help, you can ask for it. There's nothing to be ashamed of if you're struggling with something." He put the palm of his hand against the back of her head and pulled her forward, kissing her forehead.
"Dad…" Tears pooled in her eyes.
"Come on, there are no secrets between us…" He put his rough calloused hand on her cheek.
Emily turned away.
"Emmy, why won't you talk to us? You're afraid of something. I can see it in your eyes. What is it?" He pressed.
"I am afraid…" She hadn't meant to let it slip.
"Of what? Is someone harassing you? Bulling you? Is someone hurting you?" She heard the ferocity in his tone. He would always protect her. "If someone is giving you a hard time I will take care of it."
Emily laughed, actually laughed, hard. Because if anyone would bully her it would be her mother if she found out the truth.
"No. No one is hurting me."
"Then what is it?" Frustration. Exasperation.
"I'm afraid…" She looked up at him. "Of you and mom."
"What?" He pulled his lips into a perplexed grimace. "Why would you be afraid of us?"
"Because I'm not who you think I am." Her voice was meek, quiet.
Her dad laughed softly. He knew his child.
"You're Emily Fields. My little girl. I'd know you anywhere." He squeezed her knee. "I've got a picture of you in my wallet."
"I'm eight years old in that picture. That's a different girl." Emily's eyes darted away again.
"It's the same girl." He pat the back of her hand. "I just need a new picture."
"It's not that simple…" She pulled her hand away.
He could see how troubled she was. She refused to look in his eyes.
"Emmy…" He said softly.
"I'm…" She faltered, tears in her eyes. Would he still love her? She was ready for the rejection, for the abject horror on her father's face, "…gay."
The word came out so quietly that her dad didn't hear it.
So she repeated, more firmly with a bit more conviction.
"I'm gay."
Her father dropped his hands. A look of surprise washed over his face. He looked at his daughter, obviously completely caught off-guard. Whatever he'd come in hoping to find out, it wasn't this.
He put his hand against the edge of her bed. He looked at Emily and then looked away. Then looked back again. It was like he was trying to piece something together.
The silence felt like it lasted an eternity. It was painful, cutting like glass. Emily felt like a part of her soul was being shredded wide open.
He finally spoke,
"You're…" He slowly faced her, his eyes narrowed in confusion, like the little girl he'd always known was transforming right before his very eyes. "You're sure? This…" He looked like he was trying to choose his words carefully. "This doesn't have anything to do with what that boy," he growled in a tone that told her he would have shot her ex in a heartbeat, "did to you, does it?"
"No." Emily shook her head. "I knew before I got together with him." She had really liked kissing Hanna in middle school. She had realized that her feelings for girls were developing in a way that weren't developing for boys back then. "I just…I didn't know how to express it. I thought…" Her voice caught in her throat. "I thought something was wrong with me."
"Oh, sweetie…" He could see her agony, and he reached out, once again cupping her cheek. "There is nothing wrong with you. You're my little girl. You're perfect."
His acceptance sent a flood of tears down her face.
"I was so afraid." Emily huffed. "Of telling you and mom. I thought you wouldn't love me anymore. I know how you feel about gay people…"
"Emmy, gay people are still people. I don't care what the Bible says. I will always choose you." He gave her a rugged kiss on the forehead. "Were you really afraid we would stop loving you?" The warmth and concern of his tone sent more tears streaming down her cheeks. His thumbs were there to catch them. "Oh, Emmy…" He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Of course, her mother would not react as well. But she didn't know that at the time.
"Do you have a…" He cleared his throat, "Is there…" He stopped, pausing to think about something. "Is there someone special that you're seeing?"
Emily nodded, unspoken words still bouncing around in her brain, tears hot against her flesh, her father's warm palm.
"Her name is Maya."
"Maya." He said her name with a gentle kindness. "Tell me about this girl…this Maya. Who is she? I bet she's pretty and smart, just like you. If you like her I'm sure she's a wonderful girl."
Emily managed a weak smile. She still couldn't catch her breath. It wasn't very often that she cried. She'd always been a tough little girl. But the flood of relief that was coursing through her hit her in the strangest ways.
"Honey, you don't have to be afraid anymore. Why are you crying?"
"Because…" Emily huffed through her sobs. "Because you still love me."
It meant more to her than he would ever know. To be accepted. To be understood. To be loved. To know that she was perfect the way she was.
He cradled her face.
"Never doubt that we love you, baby."
Emily wrapped her arms around him and started sobbing again. He held her tight. He had assured her that she was loved.
Her dad loved her.
He loved her.
She was perfect in his eyes.
o ~ O ~ o
"He loved me more than anything. He was the best man I've ever known." Tears bit her eyes. "I haven't quite been able to put myself back together since he died. It's like he took a piece of me with him and I'll never be the same."
Alison couldn't believe that the same cheeky woman who had confidently flirted with her as she was actively dying was so open and raw and soft beneath her tough exterior.
Emily Fields had many layers, and Alison couldn't wait to peel those layers back and get to her heart.
Emily's softness…her vulnerability touched a part of Alison that the blonde didn't know existed. She felt her heart beating faster.
Alison quietly reached out and stroked her cheek. Emily closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Tears trickled through her closed lids.
Alison wiped away the droplets rolling down her cheeks. Emily had been through so much. Almost as much as she'd been through. But by some miracle, Emily had managed to hold on to her humanity.
She was envious of that.
Their eyes met. Emily blinked slowly, moving towards Alison. The blonde leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against Emily's.
I want her. The heat between her legs was unbearable.
But she'd promised.
We'll just sleep.
She could feel the agony of loss in Emily's kiss. The grief. The sense of self-destruction.
She uses alcohol as a crutch to cope.
She had a lot she had to cope with. Alison knew it from firsthand experience.
"He's not the only person you've lost." Alison said it matter-of-factly, as if she knew.
Because she did know. But Emily didn't know that she knew. She hadn't told her about Maya.
"Detective Cavanaugh…" She paused, "Toby…when he was checking on you after surgery…he told me about Maya."
There was a visceral expression of pain in the brunette's eyes. A different sort of loss than her father.
After a beat of silence Emily's face tightened.
"Did he tell you that I'm the one who found her?" Emily's voice was barely above a whisper.
Alison's entire body went rigid.
Oh, Christ. Oh, Jesus Christ. Emily…you shouldn't have had to see that. That wasn't meant for you to find.
Alison saw Maya's cold dead eyes looking back at her.
I didn't know she would be there.
"We'd had a fight a few days earlier…" Emily's voice trembled.
You blame yourself. But it's not your fault. It's not…
"It's my fault…"
"Emily." Alison lifted her head slightly, holding her the way Emily had when she opened up about Wilden. She peered up at the brunette. "Don't."
She felt Emily exhale heavily. She knew what was going on in her mind. She was thinking of the could-have, should-have's. What could she have done differently? What should she have done differently?
"No, Alison, you don't understand…"
I understand more than you'll ever know.
"You couldn't have saved Maya any more than I could have saved my brother…" Alison had to swallow the emotion forming a knot in her throat, and the bile that was building as she added, "Or my parents."
Fuck my parents…
She was seven years old in her prettiest little dress.
"Now, give her a little kiss on the cheek."
Alison started shaking, her breathing becoming heavy.
Fuck Kenneth and Jessica DiLaurentis. They got what they deserved.
Emily felt Alison shivering, and she put her own pain aside.
"Alison?" Emily laid her arm over the top of Alison's, pulling her closer. She touched Alison's chin and looked down at her. "What's wrong? What just happened?"
When she blacked out Alison wasn't sure where her mind went. But Emily had seen it disappear.
"It's…" She blinked back tears. "I try to block things out. But that day…"
That day was still a black out for her. She remembered every single one of her kills.
Except that one.
Why couldn't she remember?
"There was so much blood," she whispered. "I don't…" She tensed, but then she felt Emily's arms around her, "I'm sorry. I can't talk about it."
"I understand."
Emily understood, because she couldn't talk about the blood-soaked carpet in Lyndon's house. She couldn't talk about the smell of decaying flesh. She couldn't talk about the flies, the maggots. She couldn't talk about any of it.
The caveat was that Alison already knew about all of it.
"Can I just lay here for a little while?" Alison curled her arms against the tops of Emily's protective embrace. "Can I just stay here in your arms?" Forever.
"As long as you want," Emily answered.
Alison melded her body against the brunette's. The heat of her flesh was a comfort. The scent of her body was a calm sense of familiarity. She concentrated on Emily's rhythmic breathing beneath her cheek. It was slow. Steady.
Alison closed her eyes. The mixture of the wine and Emily's intoxication lulled her into a deep state of comfort she'd never known.
This isn't just chemistry. She thought.
She nuzzled against the brunette.
Is this bliss?
She was sure that it was bliss.
A/N: Are your Emison hearts full yet? For some fun imagery, my friend twirled around on a zoom call singing "Getting to Know You" from "The Sound of Music" while she was helping edit/giving me feedback. I really have enjoy writing the softer side of Emison...even though Alison is, ya know...a killer.