Infatuation

by Forever without him

Doctor Alison DiLaurentis is sharp, a charming seductress. She is also a killer. Behind her eyes there is a darkness. Beneath her smile there are untold secrets. She thought she had everything figured out. But then Detective Emily Fields came into her life. Emily is hunting Rosewood's most notorious serial killer. She never expected to fall in love with her. DARK AU. M

12. Social Deception

A/N: I see most of you saw that foreshadowing of a lil something happening in six months. I know, I'm such a tease.

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Chapter 12:

Social Deception

Alison walked towards the employee entrance of the hospital, smiling as she thought about Emily's last message.

You're all I can think about.

She'd re-read it a dozen times, which was coincidentally the number of doughnuts she had in a box in her arms. She'd stopped at a 24-hour coffee and doughnut shop known for their Éclairs and Boston Creams.

It felt like a doughnut kind of night. The graveyard shift had a way of making people grouchy, and she was determined to get through it with smiles. She didn't have the patience for grumpy people. She'd exuded all her energy on sex with Emily. And she was hungry. They hadn't stopped to eat…at least…not anything from the kitchen.

She couldn't help but giggle thinking about reading an ingredients list and nutritional facts about what they'd been tasting all night.

Ingredients: Sugar, spice, a little of everything not nice. Allergen information: This product is completely nut free. May contain traces of milk. Nutritional facts: Fat, nonexistent. Sodium, can be a little salty if one doesn't get what she wants. Sugar, so so sweet. Potassium: That ass is yum.

She'd always thought it was a cliché that people were happier and more carefree after getting laid. If she had access to her feelings she would be feeling as close to those two emotions as possible. She was practically skipping.

I don't skip. Since when do I skip? This woman is turning me into some kind of sap.

She slowed her pace and looked at the building in front of her. The hospital had an eerie presence to it at night. It was the center of a hurricane…the calm before the storm.

The staff joked that the crazies came out in the middle of the night, but there was some truth to it, especially when there was a full moon.

Alison had neglected to see the large orange blood moon in the sky until she left her house earlier. It was appropriate to see given all the ass she'd gotten.

Oh, is that what we missed during our marathon fuckfest? Interesting.

Maybe the moon made people hornier, too.

The blonde walked into the hospital with a huge I got laid…multiple times grin on her face.

Not even the scowl that Kathleen shot her could bring her down.

The grumpy old bitch was alive despite Alison switching her meds out. She knew it was going to take time, but it irked her when she thought about all the kids who had suffered because of the woman's greed.

Chief Hastings was by the intake desk with Alison's favorite nurse, Anne. They were looking over a file.

Anne saw Alison approaching.

The blonde flipped open the top of the doughnut box and Anne let out a sound between curiosity and delight.

"Doughnuts at this hour?" Chief Hastings chided with a smile on her face.

"Dr. DiLaurentis, you are a Godsend…" Anne grabbed a glazed doughnut without hesitation.

Maybe a fallen Godsend. A little bitty hellspawn…

Anne bit into the pastry and let out a moan that rivaled the noises Alison made when she orgasmed.

The way Anne's eyes lit up in excitement made Alison feel good…like an all-important omnipresent God. The Doughnut God…or like…Santa Claus. But instead of toys she gave people mini-orgasms by way of food. Adults were just big kids eager for their sugar rush. A powdered doughnut or a snickerdoodle could bring out the child in anyone.

Chief Hastings reached for a Boston Cream, but hesitated. She bit her lip.

People bit their lips when they were insecure. Alison wasn't sure what the Chief could be insecure about. For a woman in her late fifties she looked incredible. She'd had her oldest daughter, Melissa, in her early twenties. Melissa was like a carbon copy of her. They could be twins.

Alison wondered if that bothered Spencer…to not look like her family. She wondered if it made her feel left out.

She knew what it was like to feel like an outsider. Spencer was a bitch, but she was her bitch.

I'm going to save the best doughnut for that stuck up little snot.

"Oooh." Chief Hastings was still fighting an internal battle with herself. "I really shouldn't. It will go straight to my thighs."

"All due respect, Chief, you're twice my age and in much better shape than I am." Alison gave her a jovial laugh.

Sometimes she had to remind herself to smile and laugh. Sometimes it happened on its own. This was the latter.

"Ah, what the hell? I'll add a few extra minutes to my work-out on the treadmill." She finally gave in, reaching for the delectable treat.

Humans are so predictable.

"I should assign you scut work for a week for tempting me." Chief Hastings teased.

"And sideline your best surgeon?" Alison shot her a playful smile.

Alison knew how to play the game with Spencer's mother. Chief Hastings was very gentle, but she was not someone to be fucked with. The surgeon knew when the elder woman was giving her a good-natured ribbing and she knew when she was being serious.

"Don't tell Spencer I said that." Alison winked. Chief Hastings laughed. "Is she on tonight? I've got an Éclair with her name on it."

"I believe she stepped out for a little while with Doctor Montgomery."

Ah, Aria left her cave. Good for her.

"Guess I'll just have to protect her dessert from the hungry zombie masses." Alison glanced over to see Kathleen watching them with hatred in her beady little eyes.

Keep staring, cuntface. One day I'll wipe that shit look off of your face for good.

As Anne and Chief Hastings went back to their chart Alison sauntered over to Kathleen, doughnut box open in a show of a fake truce.

"Doughnut?" She played hard into 'innocent' and not 'I want to bash your head in with your stupid stapler.'

Kathleen looked into the box and then looked up at Alison, glaring at her like she was trying to poison her.

Now there's a novel idea…

Poison had worked on Aria. But she'd only given her enough to make her ill enough to miss a day or two of work. She could easily modify the dosage for Kathleen…

Patience. She told herself.

She already had the plan in motion. She just had to wait for Kathleen's heart medication to leave her system and for her heart to start failing. It was imperative that it looked natural.

"You trying to kill me?" Kathleen scoffed.

Daily.

Alison simply smiled at her. Nothing was going to bring her down, not after her night with Emily.

"If you change your mind they'll be in the break room." She picked up an Éclair and wrapped it in a napkin. She picked out a plain gluten free one for Aria. Best to save them before the rest of the staff got wind of the free food.

She was prepared for a wild night of full moon madness. What she got was a psychiatric patient who stabbed herself and required minor surgery to repair the damage and a teenager who had swallowed a battery for some stupid TikTok challenge.

I swear the youth are de-evolving, she'd rolled her eyes as she pulled the battery out of the kid.

Neither surgery took very long. Both patients did very well.

The rest of the night was slow. It left her alone with her thoughts. She normally liked her thoughts. They were usually filled with gleeful idealizations of who her next victim would be.

But a certain detective had burrowed herself in her brain. Alison couldn't stop thinking about the night they'd had. The whole week had been fun, but last night she had opened up the door to her past and let Emily have a tiny peek.

She laid in the on-call room, tossing and turning on the empty mattress. She was finding it increasingly harder to sleep without the detective at her side. It was terrifying to wonder if Emily had seen too much of her last night.

Did I reveal too much? Does Emily know what I did? Does she know who I am?

When she had first spotted Emily at Talia's crime scene she had never imagined that she'd fall in love with her.

Is that what this is? She had asked herself a million times. Do I love her? Or is it survival? Is it about blinding her to who I really am?

Emily looked directly into her eyes when they made love. She'd called her sweet and beautiful and kind.

Alison was none of the aforementioned compliments.

She was not sweet. She callously watched people suffer as they died.

She was not beautiful. Her soul had a hidden darkness that marred her.

She was not kind. She murdered people.

Yet, when Emily spoke the words, Alison believed her. The brunette saw a light in her soul.

But every time Alison opened up about her past she was afraid it would lead the detective directly into a territory that Alison never wanted her to visit.

I told her about my family.

She'd never talked about her family to anyone. She had shut everyone out since the day she'd given her formal statement to Detective Furey.

He was the first officer she'd ever been able to fool. He'd never once doubted her story. She'd done a good job covering her tracks over the years.

She'd had years to perfect her cover life and develop her superficial charms. She'd had years to sow doubt in the Homicide department. She knew that they would be looking for a middle-aged white male.

The murders had started when she was a kid. Fourteen years old. They wouldn't look back and consider that a small young girl could overpower the likes of Darren Wilden.

At the thought of him she felt her heart pounding against her ribs. There was an unbearable pain, not only because of what he'd done to her, but because of the piece of herself she'd lost. She grieved for a life she could have had. A shattering sensation ripped into her, but she pushed it away.

He's dead. He can't hurt me anymore.

That was the only consolation. He was dead and dickless and in hell with Ian and Garrett.

She'd done her research before she'd lured him into the Airbnb to kill him. She had to protect herself. That was the one good thing that came from her childhood. Self-preservation.

She had worked tirelessly over the years to make the kills seem as erratic as possible. She'd planted seeds all along the way and the little saplings had grown into glorious towering trees that provided her with a shadow to hide in.

The police had been chasing their tails looking for someone older, someone more manly, someone stronger. They didn't realize that a dainty young doctor simply relied on untraceable sedatives and physics.

She drove profilers insane, because she took special care to make it look like an organized disorganized killer who planned things out in an orderly fashion, but executed in a messy manner. It was something that didn't exist. Serial killers were usually one or the other.

There had been a number of theories over the years. Two killers working together. A killer who didn't have a plan…someone who did whatever felt right at the time. Someone who was truly insane.

Perhaps she fit the latter. Perhaps she was insane.

She'd often heard that people who questioned their sanity were the true sane people, where-as people who wouldn't even consider the possibility of insanity were off their rockers.

Perhaps the most important weapon that Alison had in her toolbox was the fact that she was a perfectionist with years of medical training underneath her belt.

All of her kills had an element of disorganization to them. She hesitated on several of the cuts so the law would think they were looking for someone who didn't know anatomy as well as a world-esteemed surgeon.

She had chosen to mark them with the letter A, inspired by the novel The Scarlet Letter. She'd only read it once in high school, but it resonated. The extent of her knowledge was the symbolism she took away from it: a world in which everyone knows when someone has committed an atrocity.

When she carved the A into her victims' cheeks she was branding their sins, like the townspeople had done to Hester Prynne in the book, unjustly of course. Alison didn't believe that Hester deserved to be shunned. She hated that Arthur fucking Dimmsdale, the pastor who had fathered her child, kept his goddamn mouth shut and let people abuse and berate her.

Fucking men…they get away with everything.

Men in society had been trying to control women since the dawn of time. How to dress. How to speak. How to act. What they could or could not do with their bodies.

The parallels of what had happened in Cape May with Wilden were almost too much for Alison to bear. Darren had complete control of her. When she got pregnant she's the one who had suffered.

Alone.

It wasn't fair.

When she read The Scarlet Letter she remembered thinking that it was absurd that Dimmsdale had just let Hester bear the brunt of his sins, too. Hester was the hero in the story. While her stubbornness not to name the father of her child had been the catalyst to her mistreatment and having to wear The Scarlet Letter, A, symbolizing adultery, she managed to remain dignified and rise above it.

Alison had simply taken the theme of calling out bad behavior and made it more just. She didn't kill adulterers. She just used the moniker to expose the sins of horrible people…people who truly deserved it. It had taken her a while to perfect the A from the book cover, but the first time she traced it into someone's skin she felt a magnetic connection to it.

Even before she started cutting the letter into the cheeks of her victims she'd left her calling card in the form of a cut on the cheek.

The first time she'd made that cut had been so cathartic. Making Darren Wilden bleed had been so satisfying, but she knew she had to be careful to keep the law off of her trail. So she followed a very strict protocol.

She was careful when she stalked her prey. She always scoped out the area where she'd be killing her targets. She checked for traffic cameras, doorbell cameras, neighborhood watch, hikers, bikers…anything that would place her anywhere near the scene.

She also worked hard to seamlessly slip in and out of the hospital without anyone noticing, so she had a plethora of alibis.

None of the victims could be traced back to her. To the outsiders the victims all seemed like random picks, though she knew that Emily and Toby were putting together the bigger picture. They knew she killed criminals. The worst kind of criminals. She knew they'd start to form a picture of who the killer was. She was prepared for that. She was prepared for everything. Always one step ahead.

Science was her playbook for life. And there was nothing scientific about the way she killed. It's the reason she wouldn't get caught.

Bad people deserved bad things. She'd had a curious conversation with Emily about it during Garrett's autopsy, but she had made it a point to stay neutral on the topic.

She had seen Emily waning because of the severity of Garrett's crimes. After all, what was the difference between the state killing a pedophile rapist and a serial killer doing it?

Society. It all boiled down to the rules of society. She didn't much care for them. They were a sham. Something put in place to suppress the true nature of humanity. Death row was just a glorified way of killing people. It was legal murder dressed up in fancy bureaucracy. It was the government saying that it was okay to kill people as long as someone was getting a paycheck to do it. She simply provided the service for free.

What she did had a purpose, though sometimes the lines were blurred for her. She often wondered if she was dispensing justice for vengeance or if she truly enjoyed the pain she inflicted.

Sometimes it aroused her, because it was like a release. A release on society. A release of the evil in the world.

At what point did her rage turn into joy?

Her conversation with Emily in the morgue had been enlightening. Emily believed in justice, but one woman's justice was another woman's vengeance.

The brunette had joined the force to get vengeance for Maya. Not justice. Vengeance. Alison could see it in her eyes. The only difference between the two of them was that Alison wasn't sure Emily would ever be able to pull the trigger.

They had discussed the mechanics of right and wrong more than once. Alison played the part of morality well. She'd feigned sympathy for the people she killed. She'd cried in Emily's arms and told her that her parents hadn't deserved to die. She had gone out of her way to plant the seed in Emily's head that she believed that murder was horrible.

She was careful to play the right side of the aisle, because she knew Emily was hunting.

Now that Emily and Toby and their task force had discovered that the victims were criminals they would be narrowing their search for the killer. But she wasn't worried. She was confident, not cocky, that she wouldn't even be a blip on their radar.

Emily was smart. Terrifyingly so. But the facts and the evidence were not pointing towards her.

She had spent sixteen years perfecting her craft. She hadn't been caught because she'd worked her ass off to make her kills look the opposite of what her background would indicate.

She didn't fit enough, if any, of the criteria that they were looking for.

They would be looking for someone who could subdue large adult men. They would be looking for someone who would have a reason to kill both men and women of all ages. They would be looking for someone a bit unhinged.

They wouldn't be looking for a busy kindhearted surgeon who saved lives and charmed everyone in her path.

They also wouldn't be looking for someone who seemed eager to help. They wouldn't be looking for someone who would suggest to Emily that the victims were being drugged or that there was a method to the killer's victim selection.

Even things that could point to her could easily be explained away. They'd suspect someone who'd been abused, but childhood abuse was a common thing. She was hardly the poster child for trauma. Not every child who was abused turned into a serial killer. Some turned into doctors who wanted to help people…who happened to kill people on the side.

Her family's murder had been horrific, but to profilers it was still not the making of a serial killer, especially not given that she was immediately placed in a stable household and had friends she surrounded herself with.

She also learned exactly what to say and do in therapy. She was for all intents and purposes well-adjusted, though she didn't completely ignore her family's murder. She used it as a sympathetic ploy with the adults in her life. She had manipulated the entire situation since she was seven years old.

Perhaps the strongest weapon she had in her armory was Marco Furey, the detective who had found her soaked in blood and crying in her closet.

He still saw her as a vulnerable little girl. She'd seen his paternal instincts the day he'd rescued her, and then again the day that he'd questioned her.

It's not like it was easy to lie to him. Marco Furey was a good man. He had looked in on her throughout the years. Alison had learned how to fake normalcy after her family died. She had told Marco everything she knew he needed to hear.

But what if Emily saw through that?

I'm overthinking.

She stared at the ceiling of the on-call room. It was 3 am and all she could think about was how empty she felt without Emily…how empty the bed was without her in it.

She smiled as she thought about the memories they'd made in the bed she was lying in. She'd made Emily cry out to God more than once.

She screamed my name.

Emily had really taken her time with her. She'd loved her. She'd kissed her scar. She loved every part of her. Even the dark parts.

Bliss. Heaven. All the colors existing at once.

Alison sighed and rolled on to her side. She put her palms together and tucked them underneath her cheek. She thought about all the nights she'd spent with the brunette.

Last night had been the first time they'd gone deeper, emotionally. Alison had let herself connect to Emily on a level she didn't know was possible. She told Emily things she had never told anyone else.

I'm falling for her. She's falling for me. What does that mean? What does that make me? Make us?

She had to get her mind off of it or it was going to drive her crazy. So she did what she always did when she was overwhelmed.

She closed her eyes and thought about her next kill.

Sara Harvey. 28. Drowned her two-year-old son in the bathtub.

Alison had been there when the toddler was brought in. Sara had insisted she'd been napping and woke to the sounds of running water.

She'd seemed distraught and played the part of a grieving mother well, but Alison could see through her. She knew faked emotions better than anyone.

The police did an investigation, but Sara had done an excellent job of covering her tracks. Her story matched the forensic evidence.

But she hadn't covered her tracks well enough from Alison. The blonde kept an eye on her, making sure that her hunches were right.

When Sara wasn't in the public eye she was happy, playfully smiling and laughing. She drove to another town where the story wasn't as prominent and started hooking up with men in clubs. Then one night when she was extremely drunk she told her equally drunk date that she'd done a very bad thing.

Alison didn't have to guess what that "very bad thing" was.

Alison wasn't a good person. She knew how to spot people just like her. She'd committed her fair share of horrible sins, but she had never hurt a child. She never would.

The blonde closed her eyes, imagining what she'd do to the baby-killer. Perhaps dissect her. Cut out her uterus while she was awake and conscious. She wanted Sara to feel the fear that her son felt. She wanted her to suffer the horrors that her son had gone through. Drowning. Waterboarding. Let her suffocate the way she'd suffocated her son.

She could picture it. Sara, her stomach cut open. Her insides ripped to pieces. A wet washcloth over her mouth. Water being poured over her face as she struggled for breath.

Your child suffered. You should suffer equally…

Her thoughts were interrupted by shuffling noises in the hallway.

The door to the on-call room swung open.

Alison sat up, hoping that Emily was going to stride in, all cocky and ready for her.

Instead, Aria was standing in the doorway juggling coffee and Beignets and muffins.

The tiny brunette was practically dancing on her feet, buzzing with energy.

I really should switch her to decaf.

It had been easy enough to poison her. Surely she could find a way to ween Aria off of caffeine.

Alison smiled warmly at her. She was glad that Aria was feeling better. She hadn't wanted to poison her, but getting Emily alone with her for the autopsy on Garrett was crucial. She needed to see how Emily reacted to her work, especially considering Garrett's crimes.

"There's my favorite doctor-slash-morgue company-keeper." Aria used her foot to close the door behind her.

Aria moved towards the table with the food haul. Alison pushed herself to her feet and walked over to help her steady the full load she had in her arms. She took the muffin basket and sat it down on the table.

"What are you doing here at three in the morning?" And why are you so perky? "And why are you so frighteningly perky at this unnatural hour?"

"Coffee." Aria shrugged as she put the rest of the snacks down on the table. "I'm on my third cup."

"Aria!" Alison frowned in concern. "I'm going to have to cut you off or you might never sleep again."

"I prefer doing my work in the cover of darkness."

Me too, Alison thought, but what she said was an attempt at humor,

"Okay, Batgirl."

Aria laughed.

Success. Alison smiled. This friendship thing is easier than I realized.

Maybe she'd done it all wrong with Naomi and Riley. Or maybe she just didn't like them.

"I like the night." Aria's milky white skin was proof of that. It was very very obvious she worked in a morgue and rarely saw the sunlight. "I find it calming. Peaceful. It's quiet enough that I can hear my thoughts."

What must one feel like to WANT to hear one's thoughts?

"The dead…they talk to me. They tell me their stories when it's quiet." Aria sighed.

Ah, well, at least I'm not alone in my insanity.

"Communing with the dead, pale white skin, likes nighttime…" Alison was amused. "Are you secretly a vampire?" She lifted a teasing brow.

"I've certainly got the skin tone of one." Aria replied dryly, sitting down at the table.

"Even vampires need to drink in moderation." Alison's concern for her well-being earned an earnest look from her friend.

Even so, the small woman was clutching her coffee with a death grip.

"Too much coffee is bad for you." Alison tried a different tactic. "Too many chemicals." Chemicals which you hate. Aria's body was a damn temple when it came to food, but she constantly poisoned herself with her java.

Aria was unfazed. She fired back with an undeterred smile.

"How dare you mock my religious beliefs. I'll be filing a complaint with HR." Aria stared directly at her as she took a sip of her drink. "Can you honestly tell me you haven't pounded espressos to get through a long night?"

Aria reached for a blueberry muffin. Snacking at the hospital seemed to be the only logical thing to do in the middle of the night.

"You've got me there." Alison shrugged. She had pulled many all-nighters, but not in the same sense as Aria. Her all-nighters typically consisted of cleaning up crime scenes. "I just don't want your heart to explode. Caffeine is known to make small women explode."

"You're making that up." Aria scoffed.

"No, it's totally true." Alison wasn't even trying to be convincing.

"Listen, you may have hella credentials in medicine, but I know my way around statistics, too." Aria furrowed her brow in her special Aria way, the way that told Alison that she meant business. "Besides…" Aria gripped her coffee cup in a reflexive motion. "Try to take it from me and I'll bite you."

"I totally believe that." Alison sat down across from her.

Aria gently pushed the breakfast haul she'd brought towards the blonde.

"I thought you could use something to eat. You're not very good at taking care of your nutrition." Aria took a moment to scan Alison's body, looking at her like she was just another corpse in the morgue. "I've noticed."

Aria specialized in the little details. It wasn't a surprise that she'd noticed the peculiar changes in Alison's appearance. She was different. She was being fed in a different way these days.

"Looks like we had the same thought. I brought doughnuts." Alison yawned. "They lasted about five minutes. But I saved one for you and Spencer."

"I think Spencer is off for the night. We hung out a bit at Insomnia Coffee Bean. Ran into Emily there earlier." Aria watched Alison's facial expressions carefully, grinning and poking at her when the doctor's cheeks filled with color. "We joined her and her friend for coffee. She's actually an old friend of mine, so it blew my mind to see her hanging with Emily…"

SHE?

Alison's nostrils flared. The heat in her face was not from passion anymore.

Who the fuck was this she?

Alison tried to tip-toe her way around how to ask Aria about the skank Emily had been with.

You don't know she's a skank… She tried to stay calm. But she's going to be a dead skank if she gets between me and my woman.

"Are you cheating on me with other coffee-goers, Doctor Montgomery?" Her voice was on a razor's edge, but she managed to keep her true feelings at bay.

"It was a friend from camp. I think you'd like her. Kind of reminds me of you, but like in a polar opposite way. She's our age. Blonde. But she has zero self-control…"

The surgeon clenched her fists and imagined a knife in her hands.

Impulsive hot blonde…

Around Emily.

At night.

I don't like it. I don't like it at all.

Urge to murder at all-time high…

"I used to get in some real good trouble with her." Aria chuckled, completely oblivious to Alison's tension.

"What kind of trouble?" Trouble that could lead to this skank being at the business end of my knife?

Stop it. She told herself. Get ahold of your fucking vagina. You can't kill Emily's friends! You can't kill every girl who looks at her or talks to her. We'd be left with nothing but dicks and blind women.

Though she'd probably have to kill the blind women, too, because Emily's charm was intoxicating. They'd be able to smell it on her.

"Let's just say this trouble involves a lot of running from camp counselors. It's a good thing I was a track star in high school." Aria sipped her deadly caffeine.

"Hmm." Alison bit her tongue. What she wanted to do was scream at the top of her lungs. A war cry. She wanted to kill someone.

Aria finally looked up from her beverage. She traced her burgundy painted fingernail around the edge of the lid.

"There is nothing to be jealous of, Alison." Aria teased her.

Alison hated that Aria had seen her envy. But that was a normal human emotion to have, wasn't it?

"Emily adores you."

I know that. But it didn't calm the sea of rage, the bloody tide washing in.

"I know. I trust my girlfriend." It's the other horny bitches in the world I don't trust.

"Would it help to know that this woman has a husband and kids?" Aria asked.

Alison relaxed.

Married. Children. Straight. Not after my woman.

"A little." Alison reached into her repertoire of false emotions and pulled out a sheepish look of embarrassment. "Sorry. It must seem insanely juvenile for me to act like a territorial jackass."

"Dude…if I had a woman as hot as Emily I'd never let any other girl near her." Aria's ever-changing vocabulary – dude – was of constant entertainment to Alison. But what was more important was the tiny girl's solidarity. Aria was joking, but in a way that let the blonde know she understood her reaction.

This is why we're friends.

That was as close to I won't murder you because I like you as Alison could get.

"And don't even get me started on how noble she is." Aria threw up an animated hand. "She valiantly defended Spencer tonight…"

The first thought Alison had was,

Oh, that woman of mine.

The second was,

From who?

The third,

Why didn't Spencer bark at this person like she does everyone else?

Aria answered all of her questions by stating two simple words.

"Alex Drake." The coffee-junkie curled her lip up in disdain.

"Why was Alex Drake there?" Alison puffed up.

"You know how she is. She's obsessed with answers. She wants to be the first to get the scoop."

I'll scoop her heart right out of her chest cavity if she doesn't leave Emily alone…

"Anyway, she was pushing Emily…"

I'll fucking kill her. I'll stab her eyes out, cut her lips off, and slit her goddamn throat.

Alison pictured that miserable bitch following her girlfriend around, her prying eyes like a leopard in the wilderness…watching everything.

I'm going to have to be really careful around her.

Alexis Rose was turning out to be the worst kind of snoop.

"But Emily was really cool and calm." Aria leaned back in her chair. "She was ready to brush her off, but then Alex said what she said about Spencer. I've never seen Spence get so pale. It was weird."

Alison's curiosity was piqued.

"What did she say?"

"Something about Melissa being the favorite child. Just sibling rivalry shit. She did mention something about blood being thicker than water…which didn't really make any sense…"

Because no one else knows that Spencer is adopted. Except, apparently, Alex Drake. What a colossal twatwaffle.

Using Spencer's insecurities against her was low. And that was coming from a serial killer.

That's a point in the 'Kill Alex' column…

She didn't like Spencer, but they were family – sort of – and no one was allowed to harass her. Not on her watch.

"Then Emily got really still, like freakishly so." Aria mimicked Emily's motions. "She looked directly at Alex and then told her to fuck off. Loudly. And she threatened to arrest her."

Good. Alison nodded in satisfaction. If she had been there it's likely she would have jammed a butter knife in Alex's eyeball. That would have really put a damper on everyone's coffee break.

"Anyway, she's a good one, Ali." Aria sipped her coffee. The smell of French vanilla wafted through the air as she opened her mouth to speak. "How's it working out between you two? She seems head-over-heels for you."

At the mention of the brunette, a bashful smile spread across her face. Her cheeks burned as they flushed with color.

"That well, huh?" Aria kicked her underneath the table.

"God, she's amazing, Aria." Alison relaxed against her chair. Her face was the picture of pure ecstasy.

"Wow." Aria pressed her lips together and smiled. "I've never seen you like this before."

"I've never felt like this before."

I've never felt ANYTHING before.

Alison had never gushed about her love life before. She'd never had a love life.

"Tell me more about her. What have you two been getting up to?" Aria put her elbows against the table and rested her chin against the palm of her hand.

"Oh, you know…" Alison gave her a coy smile.

"You're totally having sex! Finally!" Her voice was so loud Alison was sure it would carry out into the hall, even with the door shut.

Alison didn't dignify it with a response. She didn't confirm it, but she didn't deny it either. She simply shrugged and reached for a Beignet.

"Deets!" Aria was quite plucky, especially given the late hour.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell." The blonde winked.

"I am so not going to settle for a non-answer, DiLaurentis. Spill it. How is it? Come on. I have to live vicariously through you."

"I didn't realize that you wanted to sleep with a hot female detective." Alison gave her a hard time.

"Listen, I'm as straight as they come…" She paused and they both giggled at the word like teenagers gossiping in high school. Hee hee, you said 'come', "…but for that walking Goddess I would one hundred percent become a pitch hitter."

Talking about her personal life was a foreign concept. Talking about her intimate life with Emily was like actually going to a foreign nation and not understanding a word of their native language. She'd mentioned her one-night stands and Taylor in passing to Aria, but never went into detail. The pathologist's fascination with her relationship made her feel insecure.

Aria seemed to pick up on her quiet vulnerability, a unique habit of hers.

"I'm just teasing you." She gently kicked her under the table again. "Whatever she's doing to put that smile on your face, I'm happy for you."

"She's so gentle." Mostly. Sometimes the brunette would pick up on her need for deep rough sex and she'd oblige, but for the most part she was careful...given the nature of her past. Emily had been assaulted by her first and only boyfriend so the brunette clearly knew what she felt like when it came to trust in the bedroom. "I wasn't expecting it to be so…"

She fumbled for the word.

"Intimate?" Aria guessed.

That was the word of the century.

Intimate. To feel connected to someone, something she'd never thought she'd be able to feel.

"That's how you know it's real." Aria smiled.

Fuck. Fuck me, it is.

Aria kicked her feet up in the chair adjacent to her, knocking something to the floor. They looked down to see a curled up newspaper, sprawling open against the linoleum floor.

They both glanced at the headline.

KILLER STILL ON THE LOOSE

Alison rolled her eyes when she saw who'd written the piece. They couldn't even get away from her in the confines of the hospital. She was everywhere.

Fucking Alex Plunkett. I really do need to find a way to get rid of her.

"I can't be the only one sick of her." Alison allowed herself to be disgusted out loud, only because now she knew that Aria hated her, too.

"I don't very much like that reporter." Aria turned her nose up at the paper.

She curled in on herself, which Alison noticed immediately.

"Is she bothering you, too?" Alison perked up.

Bothering her was one thing. Bother Spencer another. And bothering Emily was yet another. Emily could hold her own. It was a part of her job.

But Alison wouldn't let Alex harass Aria.

"She accosted me at my car asking about the autopsies after I picked up breakfast."

I'm going to run her ass over with a car.

Aria was one of her girls, a part of her inner circle. No one messed with her girls.

"What a bitch." Alison played the part of an annoyed friend very well.

Maybe because she really was annoyed.

"Yeah." Aria looked down at her hands. She didn't like confrontation, and Alison knew it.

"Hey, I can take care of it if you want me to." Murder notwithstanding. She knew other ways to make nosy reporters back off. "I'm sure I could talk to Chief Hastings about finding a way to keep her off the premises. And I bet Em would work with some of her contacts to get a restraining order."

"It's just…whatever." Aria shrugged, waving it off. There was the Aria hates confrontation part. But Alison didn't hate confrontation. Alison would punch Alex in the throat. "Want to hear about the latest SLK autopsy?"

The shift in topic was Aria's way of letting things go.

That's okay, Aria. You go ahead and rise above it. I'll find a way to crawl very very far below it and play at her level.

"It's super gory," Aria continued.

Only in a hospital could people talk about gruesome deaths casually over meals.

It had been days ago, but the hospital had been so busy that they hadn't had a chance to catch up. The small brunette's eyes were alight in excitement…or potentially caffeine.

"There was another murder? Or are you talking about the girl earlier this week?" Playing dumb was Alison's greatest offense to a defense that would crush her otherwise. She tried not to seem too eager.

"Jackie Molena. Crushed to death by a car." Aria reached for a muffin. She picked at a blueberry.

Ah, yes, the night I had that amazing dry-humping session with a beautiful brunette detective.

She'd almost made it a rush job so she could get home to Emily. The exhilaration of being on the phone with the detective as she was disposing of Jackie's body had been like foreplay for her.

"Crushed to death? That sounds horrible." The blonde forced a twisted look of disgust on her face.

She could still remember the look on Jackie's face. The terror in her eyes.

Many of her kills started the same way. There was a euphoric high after the person woke up. There was a stillness in the air that would unnerve a regular person, but Alison thrived on it. When she reached for her tools it was as if something took over.

She felt like she was outside of her body looking in, like she was watching someone else live her life. There were two Alisons. She wasn't the Scarlet Letter Killer. She was just Alison DiLaurentis, watching her hands do the work.

Then chemicals would surge through her body as she watched her victims struggle.

She remembered the adrenaline pulsing in her veins as she watched the girl squirm.

What Jackie had done was unforgivable. She left an old woman on the side of the road, bleeding and helpless. A grandmother. A mother.

"You left that woman there to die. She died scared and alone. You could have helped her." That's what Alison had told her as Jackie's insides turned to mush.

She'd gotten a strange sense of joy watching Jackie suffocate on her own blood. Initially she had wanted to back over her head and slowly crush it. She wanted her face ripped off by the concrete. But she needed her face to remain unblemished so everyone would know it was her work. She had to mark her.

"The bruising indicates that she was crushed slowly. Her internal organs were mush. She bled out incredibly slow." Aria nibbled her muffin as if she wasn't talking about a woman dying.

That's one thing Alison loved about the hospital. It was just work talk to them.

She deserved to feel that pain.

"That poor girl." Alison feigned a sympathetic sigh. "She must have screamed for help. How did no one hear her?"

No one had heard her because the garage was soundproof and it drowned out the woman's cries for help. Those cries had been music to the surgeon's ears.

"Every kill is so different. It's fascinating." Aria peeled back the paper around her muffin.

Normal people did not find death fascinating. But Aria wasn't normal.

"You know something I can't figure out about all these murders?" Aria eyed the paper.

"What? Who's doing it?" Alison teased. "You're not alone in that." Her laughter was light, friendly.

No reason to suspect your friendly neighborhood surgeon…

"Not just that." Aria had a contemplative look on her face. "It's how this person is subduing the victims."

They are not victims. They are not people. They are monsters.

"There are no defensive wounds on any of them. No blunt force trauma, so…they're not being knocked unconscious. No drugs or toxins in their system…"

Alison had to fight back a grin. No amount of testing in the world would ever find the untraceable concoction she'd created.

"So, how is the killer doing it?" Aria's face was tight in thought. Tiny little creases formed between her brows. "How is he getting them tied up without them putting up a fight? A gun in their faces?"

He.

Alison wanted to sigh, but she held back.

People always assume it's a man. That's patriarchy for you, I guess.

In this instance, that was good for her.

"Maybe the police have a lead on it." Alison reached for a croissant.

She felt a twinge of guilt. The last time she'd been around Aria's food she'd made her sick.

"I don't think they have much." Aria shook her head.

Do tell, my dear friend.

Aria consulted with the police on homicide cases so she had certain privileges and knew certain things…

"They're still having trouble placing the killer in a box." Because I don't fit in any box. "The Chief must be pulling his hair out."

Before Alison had a chance to respond there was a knock on the on-call room door.

"Doctor DiLaurentis, we have an MVC. Truck ran through a traffic light. Intake physicians are asking for a surgery consult." Anne cracked the door.

"We can finish this conversation later." Aria popped another blueberry in her mouth as Alison rushed to her feet.

"Yeah, definitely next time." Alison grabbed her lab coat from a hanger on the door.

"Go. Save lives. I hope your patient doesn't become my patient." She waved.

Alison followed her favorite nurse out into the hallway.

The patient ended up being a nineteen-year-old kid. His spleen was ruptured so she had to perform emergency surgery to remove it.

It was rough in the beginning, but he pulled through.

He ended up being her last patient of the morning.

The doctor covering the next shift came in two hours early, so Alison clocked out.

She was eager to see Emily. She knew their attachment to one another wasn't healthy, but nothing in either of their lives had ever been healthy.

She tried calling Emily's cell, but it went straight to voicemail.

That's not like you, Detective…

Emily always had her phone on her.

She tried Emily's phone at the station, but she didn't pick up that line either.

When she couldn't get in touch with her she decided to go down to the station in person just to make sure Emily was okay.

When she pulled into the parking lot she felt a rush of adrenaline. As she walked through the door her heart started beating wildly.

She loved the thrill. A killer surrounded by cops. But she had all the control.

She took a moment to observe the station. It had changed over the years. They'd remodeled things and expanded the facility.

It looked different. It had seemed so much scarier when she was little. She felt a knot twisting into a pit in her stomach. Memories came crashing back to her.

She blinked and she was seven years old again, gripping her Aunt Mary's hand as she walked down a long hallway to give her official statement about her family's murder.

o ~ O ~ o

~ Then ~

Alison didn't understand why she had to talk to the policeman again. She had told him what happened when he visited her aunt's house with that mean female officer.

She hoped the woman wouldn't be there. She liked Marco. He seemed like a nice man. And foolish. Foolish because he was led by his heart, so he believed every word of what Alison said.

As they walked down the narrow corridor her little heart clip-clopped in her chest like horsies running wild. What if they didn't believe her anymore? What if they were tricking her and they were going to take her to jail?

She saw what happened to people in jail on the cop TV shows that she used to watch with Jason. Had she learned enough from the crime scene dramas to stay out of the big scary prison?

Alison stopped mid-stride, coming to a complete halt. She moved backwards and tugged on her aunt's hand, hyperventilating.

Mary calmly kneeled down in front of her, putting a hand on her cheek. It was a very motherly thing to do. It was confusing, because her mommy had never touched her with such kindness.

"Don't be scared, baby. I'll be here the whole time." Mary looked directly into her eyes.

Alison was scared she would see she was a monster.

She made a whimpering sound and pulled back.

I'm bad. I did a bad bad thing. I don't deserve to be loved.

But Mary was stubborn in her resolve.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, Love. I promise. All you have to do is tell the detective exactly what you told him when he came to the house. All he wants to do is hear it in your own words again to make sure he got everything right. If you get scared all you need to do is look at me and I'll make sure he stops, okay?"

The little girl squeezed her aunt's hand and nodded wordlessly.

"That's my good girl." She stroked her face.

If only her aunt had been there before her daddy lost his temper. If only she'd been there that day she'd been playing with her dollies. If only she'd been there the day her mommy was trying to take pictures of her and Jason all dressed up.

Alison remembered thinking it was weird that they were dressed up that day. They usually only put on their fancy clothes for holidays and charity functions. But they'd made Alison put on her best dress and told Jason to dress up in his tuxedo. He'd defied them and wore jeans instead. Their father had been livid, but their mother said they could work with it.

Years later Alison would wonder how it was possible that no one found the family pictures and videos. Or maybe they had been found, but it seemed innocent. Maybe it only felt weird because it was weird when it was happening.

Alison was playing with the frills on her dress when her mother snapped her fingers in front of her face and told her to look at the camera.

"We're going to take some pictures." Her mother smiled at her, like it was going to be fun, but Alison felt conflicted because it didn't feel like fun.

"Are they for Christmas?" Alison asked in confusion.

"They're for SOMEONE'S Christmas." Jason muttered under his breath angrily.

The only reason he was there was because he was not going to leave his little sister in his parents' hands.

"Jason, stop slouching. And enough with the attitude." Their mom snapped. "Put your arm around your sister."

Alison felt the weight of his arm. What she didn't see was the raised middle finger on his other hand. His mother simply ignored his bad behavior and told him to kiss Alison's cheek.

There was nothing weird about it. He'd always kissed her boo-boos as far back as she could remember.

But then their mother had said something that made Jason really mad. Then their dad was in Jason's face. And she was running…

Running…

Running…

She tripped going up the stairs.

She skinned her knees on the carpet crawling underneath Jason's bed.

It was ironic that she was hiding where monsters usually hid. But maybe the monsters would scare her daddy enough that he wouldn't want to try and hurt her again.

When the footsteps came thundering up the stairs she had to slap her palm over her mouth to keep from screaming. She squirmed around, her face rubbing up against one of Jason's dirty socks.

Gross.

She closed her eyes when the shadow came into Jason's room. Silent tears were falling down her face.

When she opened her eyes she was sitting in a small room in the police station.

She had to blink to adjust to the light.

She felt something warm cupping her hand. She looked down and saw her aunt's hand still curled around hers, even though they were sitting in separate chairs.

The chair wasn't uncomfortable, but it was too big and cushy for her and she felt like she was going to slide off the side of it.

The lighting was softer than she thought it would be. The room was warmer, not just in temperature, but in essence.

Marco sat across from them in a comfy looking leather chair. He was peering at Alison over his desk and smiling.

"How are you, Alison?" he asked, pushing a carton of chocolate milk towards her.

Alison knew better than to take it, even though she wanted it. She'd seen the police on TV shows catch people by getting their fingerprints.

She dropped her gaze to the floor for a split second before forcing herself to make eye contact with the detective.

"I'm okay," Alison said, but her tone indicated that she wasn't. She slid down off the chair and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Stop that. You're not a baby.

But she couldn't help it.

She crawled into her aunt's lap and curled against her side.

"You don't need to be afraid." Marco assured her. "We just have to talk a little more. Just like we did at the house."

Her aunt stayed silent as she reached for the chocolate milk. She used her free hand to squeeze the side open.

Alison cocked her head and looked at Mary curiously. If she was touching it, maybe it was okay.

"Chocolate milk is your favorite." Mary smiled a comforting smile at her and offered it to her.

Alison hesitantly took it. She tipped it up and swallowed the rich delicious drink. It was much better than the stuff they had at school, though she hadn't been back since the murders.

"Sweetheart, I know this might be really hard for you, but do you think you can tell me one more time what happened to your mommy and daddy and brother?" Marco reached for a document and nodded at her aunt, who would legally have to sign the statement.

Alison took another sip of milk, anxiously considering her options. She could clam up, go mute again. Or she could stick to her story and get it over with.

She chose option two. She told the same story, not exactly word for word, because that would be too perfect. But mostly the same. Then she watched as her aunt signed something.

"A formal statement," she'd called it.

"Okay, we're all done here." Marco smiled at Alison. "Thank you for talking to me again, Alison."

"You're welcome." She clutched the milk carton. "Can I take my milk with me?"

You're not keeping my fingerprints, she was thinking.

"Of course you can." A chuckle, like a father pleased with his daughter.

As they walked out into the hallway her aunt squeezed her hand.

"You did so good in there, baby."

I WAS good. She was pleased with herself. She'd managed to fool the detective not once, but twice.

She would go on to fool him many more times as the years went on.

Marco Furey was a compassionate man. He cared about her well-being.

He had checked on her over the years.

It was always scary running in to him because she was afraid he'd finally figured out the truth. But he was usually more interested in what was going on in her life than he was her history, and Alison thought that was a good thing.

He made sure her grades were okay and that she was being well-cared for. He'd become a presence at a distance in her life.

He came to her high school graduation. He sat in the audience with her aunt like a proud papa. Alison somewhat understood his need to see her being normal. For him, she represented the first case that had impacted him on a deeper level. The one that stuck with him. He was invested. He cared.

He was careful not to overstep his bounds though. After she'd graduated and tiptoed into adulthood she didn't see him again until she got her undergraduate degree.

By then, Alison wasn't frightened to see him anymore.

"Detective Furey!" She'd learned so much about how to mimic emotions over the years. It wasn't hard to do. "It's so good to see you!"

He handed her a bundle of flowers, beaming, like he'd been beaming the day she graduated high school.

Alison swallowed her pride and handed the flowers to her aunt so she could give him an awkward side-hug.

He's not so bad. Like a big dopey dog.

"Hello, Marco." Mary smiled. Over the years, they had dropped the formalities.

"Mary, always a pleasure to see you." He tipped his chin back, acknowledging her with a hello. "How have you two been?"

"Oh, I'm super stoked for graduate school." Super stoked, a phrase she'd learned from Riley, someone she hadn't seen since high school.

"You've done very well for yourself, young lady." The way he still treated her like a kid was strangely comforting. Like he'd never see her as anything else…like he'd never see her as a threat. "I still have some connections in the military that would be happy to write you letters of recommendation. They've all seen your work. I've been following you…"

Alison felt a noose tightening around her throat.

Following me how?

"Your research on antinuclear antibodies was a great read. I have no doubt you're going to be top of your class in medical school. Have you decided where you want to go yet?"

"Still looking at my options."

"I'd like to take you out to a celebratory dinner if you'll let me."

"That would be wonderful." Alison took her flowers back from her aunt, trying to force a twinkle…a sign of life…into her eyes.

It must have worked, because both adults reflected it back to her. She had spent years mastering how to behave. The adults closest to her had no idea just how much she was misbehaving.

o ~ O ~ o

The precinct was dead. For a place that should have been bustling with activity it was unusually quiet. There were a lot of men in uniform just sitting on their asses. Alison counted at least four officers playing games on their phones.

What a bunch of lazy fucks.

Emily was the only officer she'd ever liked besides Marco.

No wonder crimes are never solved in this town. She saw one uniformed asshole kicking back in his chair on his phone watching some loud sex scene on Netflix.

An officer behind the counter spotted her. His chubby round face was distorted by the thick layer of bulletproof glass shielding the area. He had olive green eyes and black hair that was starting to grey around the edges.

"Can I help you, honey?"

Honey. Alison wanted to scoff and roll her eyes.

Men were so condescending sometimes. Honey and sweetie and dear. It was so patronizing.

I could slit your throat with that pen in your hand, you know.

Alison leaned into the officer's ego and flashed him the sweetest smile. She propped herself up against the edge of the counter.

Got to play the game to get the prize.

"Hi there, Officer…" Her eyes darted to his name tag, "Macho." How ironic. "I sure hope so."

She reached up and twirled her finger through her hair. Men loved it when women did shit like that.

She batted her eyelashes, flirting with him. He was probably hard right now.

So easy.

"I'm looking for someone. Detective Emily Fields." Her thighs quaked when she said her name. The title was so flashy. So proper. So sexy.

Detective Fields was a powerful woman.

"Sure, give me a sec." He picked up his phone and dialed a number. Someone picked up on the other end because Macho, all business, asked, "Fields in her office?"

There was a pause then,

"Thanks." He looked up at Alison. "I got someone checking for you, sweetheart." He took stock of her clothes. Alison wanted to rip his eyes out of their sockets for looking at her. "You a nurse or something?"

You would think that you machismo piece of foreskin dickfat.

"Surgeon actually." She kept her smile sweet and sugary.

He seemed surprised. He was probably the kind of man who thought women belonged in the kitchen. It was men like Officer Macho that made it easy for females to be serial killers. Because to him, women were helpless little things that needed a man to protect them. In his eyes, women weren't capable of doing anything themselves.

"So, what's your name, little lady?"

If he doesn't stop calling me pet names I swear to God…

Fortunately, she didn't have to answer because whoever was on the other end of the phone was back.

"Yeah." Macho replied. "Thought that might be the case." After a few seconds he bellowed out a laugh. "Thanks for checking."

He put the phone down and faced her.

"Fields isn't in right now." The left side of his lip curved up into a cocky smirk. "But you can hang out with me until she gets back if you'd like."

I would rather have my limbs ripped off by wild coyotes.

"Alison DiLaurentis." A voice came from behind her, sparing Macho from her rejection that would surely hurt his fragile masculinity.

She knew exactly who the voice belonged to.

He'd saved her once when she was a child, and he'd saved her once again in that moment. If she had to be subjected to anymore sweethearts, darlins, and dears she was going to rip Macho's throat out with her teeth.

She turned around to face him.

"Detective Furey?" A genuine smile washed across her face.

Every time she saw him she reverted back to her seven-year-old self. Marco pulling her off of the floor and into his arms. His hand against the wound on her thigh. His calming words of encouragement, like she needed them. She'd planned the whole fucking thing. But no one believed a seven-year-old could be capable of what she'd done.

She blinked and saw a flash of him talking to her ever-so-softly at her aunt's house.

"Chief now." He pointed to his shiny new badge.

Alison stood awkwardly between holding her hand up and moving forward for a hug. She settled for a side-hug that lasted all of one second.

"That's amazing. You deserve it."

"What brings you by? Looking for your girl?" He gave her a wink. He saw the confusion on her face. "I heard you were dating Fields."

She talks about me… It was impossible not to swoon.

There was a grumble of disapproval from Macho.

Like you ever had a shot with me, limp dick.

She kept her focus on Furey, concentrating on her response.

"Yes, sir. We're seeing each other." Laugh. Look at the ground sheepishly.

"Happy for you, kid."

Alison flinched.

I'm not a kid! she wanted to scream. She hid it well.

"So, how have you been?" The Chief leaned against the front counter.

Keep it short. Keep it simple. Remember to smile.

"I've been hanging in there."

"Heard about your aunt. Damn shame. You been holding up okay?" The fact that he was asking out of sincerity and not out of duty made Alison feel conflicted. She could tell the difference between when someone was asking something because they felt obligated and asking because they truly wanted to know. Marco Furey truly wanted to know.

Normally, Alison would have had to fake a melancholy look, but the sadness came naturally for her because she really did miss her aunt.

"It's been hard without her."

Alison had curbed her little habit to take care of her aunt in the end. It was the least she could do for the woman who raised her. It had led to a gap between her kills.

"She did a wonderful job raising you."

"Thank you." Tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. "How about you?"

Why. The. Fuck did I ask a follow up question?

"Staying busy. Staying real busy." He tapped his fingers against the counter and played with a pen.

He's anxious. He doesn't know what to do with his energy. His best detectives can't get a lead on the serial killer in town.

She got a little bit of satisfaction out of that. They had no idea. She was that good.

"I understand busy." Alison motioned to her scrubs. "I won't keep you. Do you know where Emily is? We're supposed to go to lunch. I'm a little early, but I thought maybe I could catch her."

"She's out on the streets with Cavanaugh." Furey shook his head. "You're welcome to hang out here until she gets back."

If Emily was out hunting Alison had to see it. What was she like on the prowl? A lioness surveying the land?

God, that's hot.

But then something crossed her mind…

"The streets?" She pried curiously. "Is it safe? Is she safe?"

A soft look spread across Marco's face. He probably saw the scared seven-year-old child covered in her family's blood wondering if people in her life would get hurt or die like that again.

He put his hand on her shoulder. Pepe wasn't around to growl at him anymore, but Alison wished he was, because she didn't want anyone touching her except her girlfriend. Touch was tricky for her.

After a second, Marco removed his hand.

"She'll be fine. She's got back-up." He assured her.

"Didn't she have back up when she was shot?" It came out harsh and angry. She hadn't meant for it to.

It was a retort that Furey didn't have an answer to. No matter how many of his officers were out there, there was always a risk. And Emily was like a daughter to him. He still felt guilty about the shooting she'd been injured in.

Alison saw the pain slap him across the face.

"I'm sorry," she said. That's what a regular person would say, wasn't it? "That was out of line. I know you all work very hard and that you care for one another. I know you're a family." But Emily is MY family now. "It's just that I care for her very much. She's very special to me. I can't stand the thought of her being hurt again."

Furey nodded.

"I understand your concern." And he genuinely sounded like he did. "But she'll be okay. They're out in the daylight. Plenty of people around. And Cavanaugh is with her…"

He was also with her when she had a fucking hole blasted in her chest.

"After what happened at the liquor store…" Marco paused to stroke his beard, "Toby has been very diligent."

I don't trust him with her safety.

She didn't trust anyone with Emily's safety, though Toby did seem to be a protective fucker.

"Detective Cavanaugh looks out for her?" Alison wanted it verified.

"They look out for each other." Marco replied.

"Is that why you partnered them together?" Alison asked.

"Usually it's not a good idea to pair up family, even though they aren't technically blood related. That boy is her family. And when two people are too close on the force it can impair judgment during split second decisions that have to be made in the field."

"But Emily wormed her way in." Alison smiled warmly. Just like she'd wormed herself into Alison's heart.

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Glad she did. It was the right call. They make a damn fine team. Anyone ever hurts that girl I have no doubt he'd rip them to pieces."

Not like I would rip them to pieces.

She had to hide her amusement. She literally ripped people apart.

Perhaps Marco making Toby Emily's partner wasn't all Emily's idea. Perhaps Marco knew that Toby was the best one to watch Emily's back.

Which meant she had to watch her back around Toby.

So far, Detective Eyebrows had stayed out of their relationship. She hoped it stayed that way. She wasn't sure what she'd do otherwise. She wasn't going to let anyone take Emily away from her.

"They should be back in about an hour or so. Want me to tell her you stopped by?" Marco questioned.

"That would be great." Alison smiled. "Thanks so much."

"I've got to get back to work. Killers to catch and all that…"

Oh Chief Furey, if you only knew.

"It was good to see you, Alison."

"It was good to see you, too." Alison waved goodbye.

"Don't be a stranger."

"I'm sure you'll be seeing a lot more of me now that I'm with Emily."

She shot a smirk at the officer behind the counter, lifting her hand and wiggling her fingers in a "ta, darling" kind of way.

When Alison got out to her car she looked at the clock.

One hour.

She could wait one hour.

But she didn't want to.

She thought about all the bad things that could happen to the brunette in one hour. It had only taken one second for a bullet to pierce her chest.

In a flash, Alison saw Emily lying on her operating table.

She shook the memory from her head.

She couldn't go through that again. She couldn't let Emily go through that again, especially now that…

She stopped short of thinking the three little words in her head.

I love her.

But she couldn't love her. She wasn't capable of it.

Am I?

Alison had been so lost in thought that she didn't realize she had pulled her phone out of her pocket. Her finger was hovering over an app she'd gotten on the dark web.

Throughout the years she had developed certain techniques for tracking the people she was hunting. She had promised herself she'd never use it on Emily. She would never hurt her. But there were others out there that would want to hurt her.

I need to protect her.

Alison chewed against her inner cheek as she pulled Emily's number up. She couldn't help but smile at a text Emily had sent to her during her emergency surgery.

Thinking about you, Sexy.

Alison wasn't sure what to make of it. Was Emily pleasuring herself and thinking of her?

She copied Emily's number and put it into the tracking app.

Am I really doing this? This feels wrong.

But then, she thought of Emily's blood on her hands.

She needs me. She needs me to protect her.

She hit enter. Within seconds her last known location popped up.

The park.

Well, that was relatively safe.

Maybe she was on a break.

Still, she wanted to go and check on her, so she drove over to the park.

It was a beautiful day, so there were loads of people out. Children were swinging on the playground. Couples were walking together. Mothers jogged with babies in strollers.

A boy darted out in front of Alison's car and she put her foot on the brakes, an easy stop to make because she was driving at a crawling pace. Seconds later a father darted out after him, both relieved and irritated. The boy had clearly been told more than once to look both ways.

The father gave her an apologetic wave and grabbed his son's hand.

Please don't hit him.

She watched them carefully. Once they got to the sidewalk the man let go of his son's hand and leaned down with a soft look on his face. The boy lowered his head and nodded as the man spoke softly to him. After a few seconds the little boy hugged his dad, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Alison breathed a sigh of relief.

So that's what a normal parent does.

She rounded away from the playground and over towards a large field that led to a bunch of trails. People were laying out on blankets eating their lunches. A little girl was flying a kite. Alison watched it twirling around in the breeze. Sometimes she felt like that kite, barely holding on by a string, being pulled around by forces too powerful for her to fight.

She pulled her car into a parking spot and climbed out, casually searching the area for Emily. She walked around, smiling and waving at people she passed.

People asked questions if you didn't smile.

She caught a glimpse of the brunette down by the start of the trail. She wasn't in uniform, which was odd. Her hair was up in a tight-fitting ponytail…

You should know that's not safe, Emily. Someone could grab you from behind.

At first she thought she might have mistaken her with someone else, but then she caught a side profile of her face. A face that she'd memorized every feature of.

She looked at her ass. An ass she knew very well.

It was definitely her.

She was wearing yoga pants and a shirt that hugged her body. She had a thin sheen of sweat on her exposed skin. Alison had a brief flash of licking it off of her.

Emily was talking to some strange man Alison had never seen before. The blonde looked around for her partner.

"Cavanaugh will look out for her."

Bull-fucking-shit.

He was nowhere in sight.

Alison took a moment to take in Emily's appearance. She hadn't seen her in hardcore work-out mode before. She'd clearly been jogging…probably full on running. Wisps of hair stuck to her face. Her yoga pants hugged her body...every inch that Alison had known intimately.

That body belongs to me.

From the backside she had a nice view of Emily's ass.

Such a sexy ass.

She loved slapping it.

The man she was talking to was in a purple jogging suit. There was something unsettling about him. He was a bit out of shape with a belly poking out from underneath the suit, so he didn't seem to jog regularly. His head was almost as round as his stomach. He was completely bald on the top of his head, but there was a ring of fiery red hair that spanned across the back of his head. His skin was pale, like he didn't enjoy the sun much.

"Sorry." He was apologizing for something. He rubbed his hand over his sticky sweaty balding head. "Didn't see you there."

The jealousy she'd felt when Aria told her that Emily was hanging out with some blonde bimbo couldn't compare to seeing the detective smiling and chatting with some douchebag in person.

A swell of anger burned through her. Who did this man think he was…talking to her girlfriend? He didn't deserve to be in her presence. She felt a bubble of jealousy budding inside of her. She wanted to walk over and punch the sweaty-looking ballsac in his teeth.

Instead, she opted to coolly saunter over towards them.

Emily had her back to her. Alison saw her spine stiffen, like someone had whispered something terrifying in her ear. The detective spun around and caught a glimpse of her.

She looked odd. Something was off.

"Hey, sweetie." Alison pushed herself on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Emily's cheek. She curled her fingers into Emily's fingers.

"Hey." Emily seemed surprised…almost like she was worried about her presence.

"What's going on here?" Alison shot the man a dirty look. "Were you following my girlfriend?"

His reaction wasn't normal. He didn't laugh it off. He didn't seem taken aback or offended. He looked afraid.

What is it that you fear?

"We just accidentally bumped into each other." He sputtered nervously. "I was looking at my step-counter and wasn't paying attention. It was totally my fault."

You're goddamn right it's your fault.

There was something dark in his eyes. Something Alison recognized in herself.

Who are you? What are you hiding?

"It was no big deal." There a strange inflection she'd never heard before in Emily's tone.

Her entire body was tense. If Alison didn't know any better she would think she was afraid.

But of what?

This man?

What had he said to her?

What had he done to her?

She would kill him for her. If Emily was afraid of him she would kill him, no questions asked.

"Take care of yourself, ladies. Enjoy the beautiful day." He smiled, but everything about it was wrong.

Fake.

Alison knew fake emotions when she saw them. She knew a monster when she saw one.

"You too." Emily smiled back.

Also fake.

The brunette was distracted. It was like someone was screaming into her ear.

Emily lifted a hand and flipped a little wave goodbye, shooting him another smile as she watched him go.

She didn't take her eyes off of him, which was odd. Alison wasn't used to feeling ignored. She didn't like it.

Once the man had completely disappeared Emily let out a shaky breath and pulled her hand away from Alison's.

"Damn it." She said it to herself more than Alison. She was thinking out loud. "Fuck."

Alison was taken aback. She wasn't sure what to make of Emily's emotional outburst. She was usually so cool. So in control.

"Don't tell me you were actually interested in that gross sweaty man." Alison's tone sounded hurt.

And for the first time in her life she felt hurt.

"No." Emily was short with her. She pressed her finger against her ear and spoke to the air. "Hey, yeah…" A pause, "We hit a roadblock. I need to brief Alison."

It took Alison a moment to realize what she was saying was feeding back to someone on the other end of a microphone.

Toby was probably in on the conversation.

He was watching.

No wonder Emily wasn't acting like herself. Something else was going on.

"I want a security detail on her. Our perp might like her for a target now." She glanced directly at Alison. Then back at the air. "Don't fucking tell me I'm overreacting. If this is our perp he knows she's my girlfriend."

She was all business. A concerned expression washed across her face. Her eyes pierced Alison's.

"What's going on?" Alison questioned.

"This was an undercover operation. And I think I just blew it."

I. Not we. She was blaming herself.

Typical Emily.

"Oh." Alison laughed innocently.

That's what Marco had meant when he said they were surrounded by people. She misinterpreted that to mean that they were around a bunch of regular civilians in the park. She didn't stop to think that a whole team of officers was in on it. It also explained the way Emily was dressed and why she'd panicked when she saw her.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you while you were working. You weren't in uniform, so I assumed…" She looked down at her feet, counting seconds. She knew that ten seconds would be too long. Five not enough. Seven was the sweet spot.

Just as she'd stopped silently counting at seven she felt Emily lean against her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you." Emily touched her cheek tenderly.

Like a moth to the flame.

"It's quite alright. I feel terribly guilty. It would be akin to you walking into my surgery suite wearing dirty clothes." She sat down on the bench to the right of their path.

"Not quite the same." Emily smiled, sinking down on the bench next to her. "I'd be able to tell you were working because of the scrubs and surgical equipment and all. My work can be a little harder to detect."

"Undetectable detective." Alison lifted her brows playfully. "I like it." She leaned back against the bench and casually asked, "So…do you think he's the Scarlet Letter Killer?"

It was insulting. She was superior to him in every way.

"No. We like him for something else." Emily took her hand. "And I'm afraid you may have a target on your back now."

Let him fucking try…

"Sounds serious." Alison lifted her eyes, a danger behind them that Emily had yet to see.

What could that ugly-ass bitch possibly be capable of?

And if he was so dangerous what was Emily doing parading herself out in front of him?

"We were trying to lure him into a trap." Emily explained.

"Excuse me?" Alison didn't much like the idea of Emily using herself as bait. "Em, that's not safe. There are a lot of deadly people out there."

I would know. I kill them for a living.

Emily waved it off with a flip of her hand. She grabbed her phone and texted Toby.

Get me a detail for Alison. Now.

They might think that's overkill, Fields…

IDGAF if they think I'm overreacting.

Ok. On it.

"I'm trying to get something together. A security detail for you. Some of the team thinks I'm overreacting, but I don't want anything to happen to you." The tenderness in her voice tugged at Alison's heart.

Wait, I have a heart? Since when?

"I'm really not worth all this fuss." Alison didn't like the idea of the police tracking her every move. It would make her side job very tough. "I spend most of my time at a very secure hospital. And when I'm not there I'm with you. I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm not taking any chances…"

"Emily, I'll be fine…" She felt something tightening around her throat. She couldn't have people watching her every move.

"He's a person of interest in a serial rape case."

That's what she'd seen in him. The darkness she recognized.

It's always about their fucking dicks and control.

"That's all I can tell you. But until we know for sure and until we can bring him in I want you to avoid parks. Avoid any place where you'll be alone and vulnerable. Be vigilant at the hospital. At least you've seen his face and what he's built like, so you know what to look for. Always make sure to double check your car. Lock all your doors at home. And…" She paused, hesitating, "I'll be staying at your place indefinitely." Not just some of the time. All of the time. "Or you can stay at mine."

Oh, interesting. I like this new development.

Emily in her bed every night. Waking up with her every morning. She could certainly get used to that.

"Detective Emily Fields, are you asking me in for a nightcap?"

It got a laugh out of the very tense detective.

"I'm sorry I got in the way." Alison bit her lip. Be apologetic. Be vulnerable. "I was…I was a little jealous when I saw him talking to you."

Emily laughed, loudly.

"I'm gay, Alison. Very very gay. You have been inside of me. I have buried my face in between your legs. There is nothing about him that is my type." Unlike the conservative approach Alison had taken after Aria had asked about their sex life, Emily had no problem talking about what they were doing in the bedroom. "Twelve hours ago I literally had my tongue in you while you fingered me."

"Jesus…fuck…TMI, Fields!" Toby shouted at her through her headset. "There are children here."

She rolled her eyes and laughed. There were kids around, but none within earshot. It was just far enough away from the busier areas of the park, which is why she'd run into Tim Roland.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I feel horrible. Please let me make it up to you. Perhaps dinner tonight?" Alison already knew what Emily was going to say, and she was already ready with a response.

Emily bit her lip. She was attracted to Alison and it was so hard to say anything other than yes to her.

"I'll be at the station working."

Perfect. I can see what that fat sack of shit is up to. As soon as I have enough to go on, he's mine.

She would have to be very careful about killing him though. She would have to be clever.

"So, I'll bring dinner to you. I promise I'll stay quiet and let you work. You did say you didn't want me alone." Alison pressed. She knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.

Emily smiled.

"I'd love to have you." Her voice was packed with emotion.

She'd been dealing with a lot at work. Alison could tell. She wanted to wrap her arms around her and hold her. She wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay.

"I'll be there." Alison leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Emily smiled at her.

"The team is still watching us." Emily meant it as a warning, but Alison took it as a challenge.

Let them watch.

She touched the detective's thigh, her eyes meeting Emily's. A spark flew between them. She reached up and played with her ponytail.

"You look hot." Alison leaned forward. "I could yank on this ponytail all night long." She whispered.

She didn't care if anyone was listening.

Emily's cheeks flushed. She let her hand slip down between Alison's thighs. It was hard to resist touching her, but she reminded herself they were in a very public place. Talking about their sex life in public was one thing. Actually acting on it was another.

Alison smiled. At least the brunette was loosening up. That pig-fuck had really rattled her. And it was all because Emily cared about her. Emily wasn't worried for herself. She was worried for her.

"I'll remember that." Emily promised.

"I'm sure you will, Detective." Alison licked her lips. "Lunch is on me today."

"I'll lick it off of you." Emily winked at her, sending a burning sensation down to Alison's core.

Alison leaned in to Emily and whispered,

"If you weren't on duty I'd drag you to the nearest bathroom…"

Before she could finish Emily snorted out a laugh.

"Toby says I'd have to arrest myself for public indecency because he sure as hell wouldn't go in to put the cuffs on me." She pressed her finger to her ear and directed her conversation to Invisible Toby, "Mind if I take my lunch early? Maybe our perp is still watching."

Alison could use that to her advantage. It was only a matter of time before Baldy ended up dead. No one else knew about Emily and Toby's little sting operation.

It might make her look suspicious if the perp Emily was after ended up dead so soon after she had ambushed their sting in the park, so she had to think of something on the fly. And sometimes the easiest solutions were the simplest ones.

All she had to do was plant one little seed.

Maybe Baldy McRapeface wasn't the only one watching. Maybe the "SLK" was watching them, too. She could make Emily think that, at least.

"Your guy went towards the trail, right?" Alison kept her voice low.

"Yeah, why?" Concern washed across Emily's face.

"It's just…" Alison bit her lip. "I thought I saw something…" Her eyes darted away from the trail and over to a hill. "There it is again. Did you see that?" Alison looked in the distance, focusing in on nothing. "I think someone is watching us."

Plant the seed.

Just like she'd done when she was younger. She knew exactly what to say to guide people, to manipulate their thoughts.

She could tell by the look on Emily's face that Toby was watching, too.

"Where did you see them?" Emily casually looked over her shoulder.

"By the hill."

Alison was so proud of herself for creating a fake storyline that she completely missed that there was a very real pair of curious eyes watching them from afar.

Emily waved to a little girl playing with a toy car, but her eyes were on the hill where Alison's fake stalker was watching.

"I don't see anything." Emily put a comforting hand against Alison's back.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm just being paranoid." Alison laughed lightly and shook her head as if she was embarrassed. "They don't let me out of the hospital enough. I think I need to see more daylight."

"I'll have someone from the team check it out just in case."

Seed planted.

"Probably a good idea." Alison touched her hand. "Now, about that lunch…"

She pulled Emily to her feet, a light bounce in her step...not a care in the world. She ran her palms up over the detective's tight sweaty biceps, appreciating the firm tone muscle there. She smiled as she moved her hands to either side of Emily's neck.

Emily grasped Alison's hips and pulled her in the final few inches, their lips meeting for a soft kiss. The sun felt brighter against Alison in that moment. The warmth of its rays were rivaled by Emily's body heat.

When they pulled apart Alison gazed at Emily, marveling over the fact that she was lucky enough to have the brunette in her life. She reached for her hand, completely oblivious to the other people in the park.

Alison knew all too well that crowds made it easy for people to blend in. She had spent her entire life using that knowledge to her advantage. Usually, she was more aware of her surroundings, but she was so focused on the detective that she didn't realize that someone else was focused on her.

---

A/N: *insert meme of person pointing gun to the back of another person's head while a third person points a gun at that person's head*

Love me some caffeine junkie Aria and protective Alison.

Thoughts?

I think this story might quickly be becoming one of my favorites for one-liners.