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

22. Under the Microscope

A/N: Q&A sesh: Q: Did Jason protect Alison from all the NAT stuff? A: *drags Facebook status down to "It's complicated"

To the reviewer (thank you for reviewing!) who asked, Jason did protect Alison from the bulk of what was happening, but she understood it later and she's also dealing with memories that have yet to be unlocked via her PTSD. But for the most part, yes, you're right. Jason was her protector.

PS: Your reviews mean a lot. I see you all. Thank you.

There is some NAT related stuff in this one, so tread carefully if you're easily triggered.

---

Chapter 22:

Under the Microscope

Emily smirked at the text on her screen. She'd been flirting with Alison all day, even though they'd both been busy at work. The latest message was a spicy preview of what she expected when they got home and in to bed. She'd attached a picture of herself smoldering into the camera with a mischievous brow arched and a smirk on her face.

She wasn't a fan of selfies. She'd always felt awkward pointing the camera at herself and vogue-ing for it. Growing up, her mother would always tell her that she was beautiful.

"My brown-eyed girl. Look at you. Perfect brows. Beautiful smile. Flawless skin. You're so pretty, Emmy."

She had been self-conscious as a child. She didn't like people fussing over her. Now, she could look back and see the light in her mother's eyes when she hugged her tight and told her she was beautiful.

I was lucky.

Pam Fields wasn't perfect, but she loved her daughter, which was more than Emily could say for Alison's parents.

The blonde hadn't had the fortune of having a mother who cared about her beautiful features just because she thought her daughter was pretty. She had a mother who wanted to exploit those features. To exploit her child.

It was sick.

And now Emily had to pick at Alison's healing wounds. The revelation about NAT had changed the entire game. She'd always sensed there was more to the killings, but the bombshell about the dirty boys club and Alison's parents' involvement complicated things. She was emotionally involved with the blonde and couldn't separate herself from her feelings, but she couldn't ask anyone else to take on the task of digging around in Alison's head. Alison had told her about her childhood in confidence. Emily didn't feel right bringing anyone else into it.

Hearing about Alison's parents had been a bitter pill to swallow. The idea that anyone would hurt the blonde stirred a heated fire in the depths of Emily's soul. She pictured her at seven years old, her prick of a father trying to force her in to things, trying to hurt her. It made Emily's blood boil. Alison had been through too much in the past to end up in another tangled violent mess in her life. Whoever was killing the blondes to intimidate her had to be stopped, no matter the cost.

The case was becoming too personal. Normally, Emily latched on to the danger. She welcomed it. It kept her adrenaline pumping. Catching bad guys is what she did, but something about this case struck her on a deeper level. It was fundamentally changing something in her, bringing out an apathetic viciousness that had laid dormant in her for years.

The light in her soul felt like it was disappearing. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop it. Because darkness existed before light. Light traveled quickly, but it didn't matter, because darkness didn't have to be swift and fast. It was always there, waiting on the light.

Every time she closed her eyes she felt herself getting lost in the dark. She feared she was starting to spiral like she had after Maya's murder. Her sanity felt like it was starting to slip from her grasp.

A hollow pit of despair and anger lurked deep inside of her, permeating her heart and mind. Often it was silent, but sometimes she felt it rising to the surface. She was afraid that eventually she was going to lose control of it.

When she'd felt it gripping her during the short encounter she'd had with Alison in the locker room she'd reached for the only sanity she had left.

Alison.

Their kiss had started out as a way for her to push away the emotions swirling inside of her, but it had soon turned into a way to control her demons. Instead of facing what she'd felt in the moment, she'd buried it by burying Alison's fingers in herself. It had been about control, and not about intimacy. She had used sex as a way to cope. Just like she'd used alcohol after Maya's death.

The blonde had sensed the difference. Emily could see it in her eyes. Those gentle blue eyes had pulled her out of the black hole that had been sucking the life out of her.

Alison's love had defied gravity.

The blonde had pulled her back from the brink. The intensity of what she felt for Alison outweighed the darkness eclipsing the light.

Emily had felt much better after holding her close, after losing herself in her girlfriend's gentle kind nature. Alison tethered her, grounded her with solid footing.

They had been together for almost four months. Was it normal to feel so strongly about someone after a mere four months?

Her mom and dad had fallen in love after two dates. They had known immediately they were meant for one another. Emily strived to have a relationship as successful as her parents. Her personal upbringing with her mother had been rocky, but there was never a doubt in her mind that her parents loved each other. She felt like she had that with Alison. She wasn't sure if Alison felt the same, but they had something unique.

"Fields…" Her partner's voice drew her attention away from her thoughts. "Put a cork in sexting your girlfriend…"

How did he always know when things were getting spicy with them on the phone? Did she have a giant tattoo across her forehead stamped BOOBS AND SEX?

He crinkled his lips, trying to hold back the smug smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

"I know I'm right."

"Shut up." Emily laughed.

"Plunkett is here…or Drake. Whatever the hell her real name actually is." He threw his hands up, like he'd totally given up on society as a whole.

He wore his disdain for the reporter on his sleeve.

"That was record time." Emily looked at her watch. It had only been an hour since she'd had someone contact her about coming in.

"I think she heard interview and made it all about her story. Don't think she knows why she's really here." He grinned.

That would make things more interesting.

"This should be fun." She was practically giddy at the thought of taking Alex down a peg or two.

The reporter had been a thorn in her side for a very long time. She was looking forward to a little payback. And maybe once she put some pressure on her they'd get some answers.

"I had someone do some digging into her past." Toby reached for a folder. He opened it and thumbed through the notes. "Dad left when she was young. Her mother was absent a lot."

"So she was unsupervised growing up." Emily tried to twist what she could fit into her theory, just to see if it was plausible. "Classic case of a latchkey kid…"

"Yeah, but not every latchkey kid turns into a psychopath." He nodded her way. "Playing the devil's advocate here to keep this in check."

"Fire away." Emily put her phone down.

"Your dad was overseas a lot and your mom was working, so technically you were a latchkey kid, too. And you turned out fine."

"True." Emily nodded. "But my dad came home. And my mom disciplined the hell out of me."

"Fair point," he jotted something down. "Moving on. She got great grades in school. Was in the gifted program. She could have gone on to do anything she wanted, but she chose journalism."

"Why would anyone choose to report horrible things day in and day out?"

Seeing crime scenes turned her stomach. She couldn't imagine people who thrived off of reporting tragedies. She chose law enforcement because she wanted to help people. Most journalists didn't get into the business for that reason. It was about ego for them.

"Maybe she's just a horrible person." Toby shrugged.

"Well, let's get in there and find out." Emily grinned.

"How are we going to play this? Good Cop-Bad Cop? Sugary sweet? Shining a bright light in her face until she sings like a canary?" Toby was more excited than Emily.

"Damn, tamp it down, Cavanaugh. We're not mobsters." She reached for a file she'd put together and looked up at her partner. "She might be more willing to talk if we don't go at her together. Let me take a stab at her."

"You don't mean like…literally, right? Because if you do, I mean…I'm your partner and I've got your back, but that could get really messy." He incredulously lifted his brows, an easy smile on his face to let her know he was joking.

But he probably would actually cover for her if she murdered someone. He was her ride or die. Literally. They had each other's backs on and off the job.

"Don't do anything to crazy." This time his warning was serious. He was back in his detective persona.

Alison did the same thing. She could go from loose and playful to serious and medical in less than half a second. It had to be exhausting to shift gears like that all the time.

Emily flattened her hand and put the edge of index finger against her brow and uttered out a "sir, yes, sir" before she saluted him and walked towards the interview room.

Alex assumed that they were finally going to talk on the record about the Scarlet Letter Killer.

When Emily walked into the room Alex glanced up at her, annoyed that she'd had to wait. Alex Drake was the center of Alex Drake's universe. She believed the world owed her something, which grated Emily's nerves.

Emily walked over to the table and sat down across from the skinny brunette. She put the folder down and then pressed her fingers together into a tent and pressed them over her mouth, watching for a reaction.

All she got was self-entitlement and frustration.

"It's about time you answered my calls." Alex turned her nose up at Emily.

Emily didn't say a word. She simply reached into the manila folder and pulled out three separate photos.

The first three crime scenes.

Talia, fingers in inappropriate places.

Sydney, limbs amputated, a river of blood running into a pool.

Ian, mutilated in more ways than one.

The pictures were all from a distance, a wide angle lens with precise zoom.

All taken by Alex.

The detective fanned the photos out in front of her.

Alex peered down at them.

"These are my photos." Alex furrowed her brow in confusion. She looked up at Emily. "You brought me here to show me my photos? What is this?"

"You've been at every crime scene, Miss Drake." Emily crossed her arms in front of her chest coolly.

"Yeah, so? It's my job." Unmoving. Unbothered.

"How exactly do you manage to be first on the scene every single time?" A police scanner was one thing, but that would mean that Alex had to have been close by every time a body was found, which was both very convenient and very suspicious.

Alex pursed her lips, looking at the photos and then up at Emily again. Her face went from perplexed to rage.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I have been trying for months to get you to talk to me and you finally do and it's…what…to accuse me of something?" She flew into a sanctimonious fit.

"I'm not accusing you of anything." The detective's temper was even and unshakable. She was calm and calculated in her response. "I just have a few questions for you."

Alex laughed, a hard dark laugh.

"That's rich. You have questions for me?" She leaned back in her chair, getting comfortable. She looked down at her nails, gently filing a finger over them. "Seems like the tables have turned, Detective." She was plotting. "How about for every question I answer you answer one of mine?"

Emily considered it. She already knew what kind of questions that Alex would ask. She also knew that Toby was behind the two-way glass cursing under his breath and begging Emily not to take the deal.

She wondered if he would rush in to stop her if she accepted Alex's offer.

"I'll give you one answer for every three you give me." Emily tapped her fingers against the photos.

"This isn't negotiable. Either we both talk or neither of us talks." Alex lifted her arms and folded them over her chest, a stubborn child.

"So you do have something to talk about?" The detective had to fight from smirking victoriously.

Emily finally saw a flicker of emotion cross the journalist's face.

Fear.

Adrenaline.

Guilt.

A mix of exasperation and delight.

She was angry about being there, but in some weird perverse way she was getting off on it.

"Your mind-games won't work on me." Alex's voice came out less assured than it had before.

"I'm being as straight as they come…" Emily cracked a smile, "…well, figuratively speaking."

"See, that's an interesting topic." Alex leaned forward in her chair, observing her photos before facing the detective again. "You and Alison have grown rather close, haven't you?"

"You answer my questions first." Emily took control. "And Alison is off-limits. She has nothing to do with this, so she stays out of it. I don't want her mixed up in it."

Alex cocked her head, amused. She leaned forward, putting her elbows against the table, cupping her chin with her palm. She stared at Emily like she was fascinated by her courage and loyalty.

She'd clearly found the detective's weak spot, which meant she could exploit it to her advantage. She was good at that. She knew how to play upon other's emotions. She knew how to get exactly what she wanted out of people.

And it had all started with Alison DiLaurentis.

o ~ O ~ o

~ Then ~

Alison and Alex had never gotten along. From squabbling on the playground to Alison shunning her in high school, they always seemed to be at odds.

Something about the girl set Alison on edge. Alex was pushy and nosy and asked all the wrong questions. Even as a little girl, Alex knew how to spin a narrative.

After their fight on the playground Alex tattled to her mom and Alison's aunt, saying that Alison and her dog were mean to her. Neither woman really paid attention to the girl. Her mother wrote her off as being dramatic. Alison's aunt simply watched as Alison sat on the grass and kissed Pepe's head. She gently stroked the dog's fur. Then she looked up at the older women and the bratty young girl and smiled sweetly at them.

Alex's face was scrunched up, her mouth puckered like a stupid ugly butthole. What Alex didn't know was that the blonde had gotten away with murder. She could get away with anything.

Alison didn't run into her again until high school. She'd seen her around, but she avoided her. Alex Plunkett gave her the creeps, which was ironic given that she killed people in cold blood and she didn't feel a thing.

By the time she was 15 she had quite a body count for a freshman in high school, yet she remained unbothered. Kids flocked to her. She had a cool mysterious nature that people her age seemed to be attracted to. It was her curse.

Fortunately she fit right in because she'd crafted a cover life to make it appear like she was normal. She'd nabbed the first few kids she could find in middle school and forced herself to socialize. She had been successful in transitioning into the role of well-adjusted polite young woman. No one suspected her of a thing.

Finding girls to hang out with hadn't been hard to do. Naomi and Riley had glommed on to her. Her life experiences made her seem much older than she was. She had an air of confidence surrounding her that they admired. She was immediately integrated into their friendship and the duo became a trio.

Nick had been a geeky little thing when Alison met him, but she did a make-over on him and encouraged him to try out for the football team. By the time he was in high school he was hot, confident, and sporty. She had no interest in him, but he was constantly flirting with her. He flirted with Naomi and Riley, too, just so they felt included, but the only heart eyes that were real were the ones he made at Alison.

They turned out to be a loyal brood. They certainly weren't the nicest bunch, but they did her bidding without her even needing to ask.

Had it not been for her friends she might have let her urges get the better of her. Her hormones and homicidal tendencies did not mesh well at all. Her hormones made her irrational and moody...which made her more likely to make mistakes.

Emotion had played a role in Darren Wilden's murder. It was hard not to make the kill personal considering what he'd done to her. She'd planned it carefully, disconnecting from her past…disconnecting from herself entirely.

Disconnecting made things worse. It reminded her too much of the boathouse and how she'd felt her mind going blank when Darren had her in bed. She could hear the waves crashing on the shore. Only they hadn't been anywhere near the shore. The white noise had become her sanctuary. Her spirit couldn't take it, so her mind had protected her.

When she had Darren tied up and she was cutting him to pieces she felt the same disconnect. Her hands were doing the work, but her mind had completely dissociated. She was floating on the surface of her own life, like she was gently being swept out to sea. But she didn't fight it. She welcomed it. It was the only way she could keep her anger in check.

Killing Darren was her first lesson in learning how hormones played a role in her new habits. The next two kills were a bit easier. There was no emotion involved when she killed Maggie, the woman who had sold her son for drugs. But when she found the drug dealer who had Maggie's son...the man who was going to traffick the child...she lost her temper. She had to work hard to make sure the cuts she inflicted didn't look emotional, because she knew the forensics specialists and profilers would be looking at whether or not emotion played a role in the murders. She needed the professionals to think the kills were meticulously planned and not crimes of passion.

She was still trying to perfect her craft. She hadn't had much time to work on her coping techniques before Alex had come into the picture again, testing her patience.

The snotty little busybody was a nosy bitch. She had joined the yearbook committee and the school newspaper because she liked poking her weasel-faced little nose in everyone else's business.

Alex was practically salivating at the mouth watching all the murders unfold in town. Most teenagers were disgusted by the 24-hour media coverage, but Alex couldn't get enough. She was invested in getting to the bottom of things. She was egotistical enough to believe that she could crack the case before the professionals.

Having grown up a child in Pleasantville, USA where everyone had normal families…the mom, the dad, the dog, the white picket fence…Alex had always been an outsider. Until she found out about Alison DiLaurentis and her sordid past.

In her pursuit of the truth she'd pissed Alison off, almost to the point of murder, though Alex never knew that.

Lucas, Alex's boss at the gossip-rag, had warned her numerous times that theirs was a paper with "integrity", which meant that all their sources and material had to be legitimate and not speculation or obtained in dubious ways. Alex had violated the rules more than once, but she did good work, so Lucas usually just bitched at her and printed what she gave him anyway. It made her feel more important than she actually was.

She had developed a fixation on Alison after the blonde shunned her at lunch. Alison's friends had been so mean to her. Alex had developed a vendetta against her. Every so often she'd go to Lucas asking to do a story on Rosewood's sole survivor of the bloody massacre that had left her an orphan. He shut her down every time, telling her that their focus should be hard hitting news and not sensationalized pieces.

He had seen the look in her eyes and he knew she planned to ignore him. Lucas had warned her not to use personnel school records to do anything unethical, but she was like a cat…and curiosity was a killer.

She'd gotten the combination to the blonde's locker from the headmaster's office, which the newspaper staff had access to.

She'd waited until school was over and then carefully made her way to Alison's locker. She had a small window of opportunity between the lull of silence and when the sports teams finished their practices.

She swept the hallway with her eyes before slowly entering the combination to the locker. The first thing she noticed about the contents was how organized and tidy everything was. Everything had a place. Alison's school books were alphabetized.

Alex's eyes were drawn away from the books and to the magnetized whiteboard on the door where Alison had written 'AP Anatomy project due' very neatly in black marker.

What struck Alex was the lack of personal items. She'd seen many open lockers throughout the year, and most of them were littered with photos and posters of stars and bands and family momentos.

As far as she could see there were only two photos. One was a picture of a little girl on a swingset with an older boy pushing her.

Jason. Alex took a moment to study their similar features.

He looked to be about 13. He was kind of cute. Ruggish and a bit big for his age. He'd clearly hit puberty early. He looked like he worked out. She could imagine what he would look like at 16. He probably would have been a hunk that everyone drooled over.

The other photo was a selfie, a close up of Alison and her aunt. They looked like they were at a cabin in the woods. The sun was setting behind them.

It was odd that Alison didn't have anything else on display. No personal taste in bands. No pin-ups of hot boys. No pictures of her with her bitchy friends. She was a girl solely focused on her education.

Alex ran her fingers over the spines of Alison's books. They were all from advanced courses. She pulled out the AP Calculus book and flipped through it, curious to see if there were any notes written or loose papers, but the book was immaculate. It even smelled new. The pages were thick and heavy beneath her fingers. She put the Calculus book back and reached for her Criminology book, expecting the same kind of fresh clean-cut tidiness.

As she flipped through the pages she noticed the corner of something sticking out. She opened the book to find several pressed newspaper articles.

Darren Wilden's photo stared back at her. It was a cropped version of him holding a huge fish on his boat, a big smile on his face. The headline read,

CAPE MAY MAN FOUND DEAD

Alex recognized the article. She'd read it so much she'd practically memorized it. Without looking she knew the first sentence,

"Young college graduate found massacred at local Rosewood Airbnb…"

The word "massacred" made her spine tingle. She stared at Darren for a few seconds before flipping to the next article, which was about a young mother who had been found murdered with similar markings to Darren.

POLICE LOOKING FOR SUSPECT IN STRING OF MURDERS

"Maggie Reynolds, an aspiring writer and mother of one was found brutally murdered overnight. Police are looking into suspects that might tie into another unsolved murder, but have not released specific details because the investigation is ongoing…"

Alex looked at the article about Darren Wilden again and then looked at Maggie's picture with her little boy.

The third article was about how that little boy had been found safe at a fire station on the same night that a drug-dealer had been found dead. The third body had marked the start of a suspected serial killer, as the title indicated,

THIRD BODY IN BRUTAL STRING OF MURDERS INDICATES POSSIBLE SERIAL KILLER IN ROSEWOOD

The last article was a lot older. The paper was thin and fraying. It had a yellowish tinge to it. The front page photo showed a detective racing out of a house with a little girl bundled in his arms, paramedics meeting him halfway up the driveway.

TRIPLE MURDER ROCKS COMMUNITY, YOUNG GIRL, 7, SOLE SURVIVOR

The article was about the night Alison's parents had been murdered. The little girl in the photo was Alison DiLaurentis.

Alex was thumbing through the articles when Alison spotted her from around the corner. She'd been on her way to the Criminology Lab. She liked it better when it was quiet, so she often waited for school to let out before going to do her homework.

When she saw Alex rooting through her locker like a pathetic pig searching for truffles her vision flashed a deep shade of red.

She remembered seeing something similar the night her family died. The only difference was that she was soaked in their blood. She hadn't just been seeing red. She'd been bathed in it.

Her hand tightened around the strap of her backpack. She pulled it and felt the pack compressed against her body. She imagined Alex's neck in place of her arm and her hands around the tender flesh there, choking the life out of her.

She reached up, her fingertips brushing against the scissors snapped snugly in a side pocket on the bag. She could easily slip up behind the girl and jam the blade into the creepy little nuisance's carotid artery. She could probably get away with it, too. She just had to act quickly.

She pulled the scissors out and licked her lips, peering around the corner. She was primed and ready for the attack, but Naomi's voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Excuse you. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Alison's throat went dry and she nearly dropped the weapon. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. She couldn't speak. She was ready to raise her arms in the air in surrender.

She had never dreamed of being caught by one of her airheaded friends.

Riley chimed in,

"This isn't your locker, freak. What are you doing?"

Her friends would never dare talk to her in such a manner.

They were talking to Alex. When Alison looked down the hallway again she saw Naomi and Riley in their track gear, both still sweaty from their afternoon practice. They were likely on their way to the showers.

"Oh, just…" Alex held the newspaper articles behind her back, trying to keep them hidden from the girls. "Alison had a book she was going to let me borrow…"

This girl couldn't come up with a good story if her life were on the line…

"You expect us to believe that crap? Alison wouldn't lend you a fire extinguisher if you were on fire." Naomi scoffed.

I'd probably add fuel to the fire.

Her friends knew her well, though not well enough to know about her dark habit.

Naomi and Riley flanked the girl, mean-mugging her. Alison knew that despite their aggressive nature, neither girl would ever resort to murder. That was the difference between her and them...between her and the entire school body. She was a lone shark in a sea of prey.

Alison clutched the scissors. She'd almost crossed a line she couldn't come back from.

What was I thinking?

Her parents. Wilden. Maggie. The dealer who trafficked kids. They all deserved it. But Alex wasn't a threat. She was just annoying.

She swallowed hard and opened her palm to loosen her grip on the scissors.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, dropping the scissors. She thought she screamed, but it was only in her head. She spun around, ready to punch whoever touched her.

"Whoa, why so jumpy, DiLaurentis?" Nick held his palms up to show her he meant her no harm.

He smelled like chlorine and locker room sweat. His hair was damp, which meant he'd finished up at football practice and had slipped back before the other guys to shower alone. He was still self-conscious about being naked around the other boys, though he didn't have anything to be self-conscious about. She had molded him into the perfect popular guy. The girls fawned over him and the guys loved him.

She relaxed and lowered her fists. She leaned down and casually picked up the scissors, like she hadn't just been thinking about skewering Alex Plunkett with them. She shoved them in her bag.

"There's a killer on the loose." Alison shrugged.

"I'll protect ya." He flicked his bangs out of his face with a smile.

Alison had to bite back hysterical laughter.

He would protect her…from her.

"Just leave me alone." Alex's voice carried down the hall.

"You aren't going anywhere until you tell us what you were doing breaking into our friend's locker." Naomi snapped.

They had cornered Alex against the lockers.

"What's that about?" Nick asked.

Alison feigned ignorance with a shrug.

"Let's find out." She walked around the corner.

Nick loped behind her like the big dumb puppy that he was. The girls looked over at Alison and waved when they noticed her approaching.

"You're in for it now, Plunkett." Riley pressed two fingers against the girl's shoulder and shoved her against the lockers.

Alex didn't flinch. She had a look of confidence on her face.

Alison didn't even look at Alex. Instead, she stopped at her locker and shrugged her bookbag off of her shoulders. She reached into her backpack and pulled out her AP Literature book. She slipped it in with her other books and then grabbed her Chemistry book. She looked in Alex's hands and saw her Criminology book. She reached for it.

"That's mine." She held her hand out, demanding her book back.

"We caught her going through your shit like some kind of creepy stalker." Riley grabbed Alison's book from Alex and handed it to her.

"Why?" Alison kept her face flat. She kept her murderous rage at bay.

"If anyone should be asking questions, it should be me." Alex glared at Naomi and Riley and then shot an accusatory look at Alison. "Why do you have these?" She shoved the newspaper articles in Alison's face.

When Alison saw Darren Wilden's face she felt her fingers twitch, an anticipatory twinge she usually only experienced before a kill. Seeing him staring back at her made her feel sick, but she managed to stay cool.

"She doesn't have to answer to you." Naomi snatched the papers from Alex. "God, what is wrong with you? Can't you take a hint? Everyone hates you, and doing shit like this really doesn't help your case. You're just asking for someone to aim a gun at your face."

"Naomi," Nick hissed, condemning her poisonous tone.

His heart was too big for them sometimes. Alison wondered why he stuck around. She didn't realize it was because he actually considered her a friend. She didn't feel the same attachment. Her friends were just props to her...a way to look normal.

"I'm not sorry." Naomi shrugged as she handed Alison back the articles without so much as a second glance. "Breaking into people's personal things is a crime."

Alison tucked the articles back into her Criminology book and slipped it into her backpack. She didn't engage with Alex. She was afraid if she even looked at her she wouldn't be able to stop herself from ripping her throat out.

Those articles were hers. They were personal. Alex had violated her sanctuary, had gone through her private things. And shoving Wilden's face into hers hadn't helped matters. She couldn't stop thinking about the scissors in her bag. What would her friends look like if they were covered in Alex's blood? Would they finally know what she'd felt like all those years ago after she'd practically been baptized in her family's blood?

"Alex, please stay out of my things. You have no right to go through my stuff. If I catch you doing it again I'm going to report you to the headmaster." Her voice came out like a mother scolding her child.

"Fuck that. We should go down to the office right now and get her ass expelled." Riley's tone was shaking in anger.

Alison liked that her friends were angry for her. It kept her from doing something she'd later regret.

"But those articles…"

"Are none of your business." Alison cut Alex off, her eyes cold and reptilian. "Now please go." She shooed her away, swatting at her like a fly.

"Yeah, buzz off, loser." Naomi puffed her chest out.

Nick rolled his eyes at the dramatics. He was the only level-headed person in the hallway. But even with his cool nature, Alex still found herself intimidated by the other girls, so she slouched down and started to walk away.

"That girl is so fucking psychotic." Naomi pulled her damp sweaty hair loose from her ponytail.

"Yeah, I bet her dad didn't even disappear. I bet she killed him." Riley shot Alex an angry sneer.

Then we'd have that in common. Alison peered at Alex, noticing that Riley's hurtful words had struck a chord.

She looked sad.

Good. That will teach her to mess with me.

"Where does she get off digging in your past like some creep?" Riley asked as Alison shut her locker.

"I don't know. Why does anyone do anything?" Alison zipped her bag up and faced her friends. "How was practice?"

"I beat this slow-poke's time." Naomi giggled, her mood shifting drastically as she poked Riley.

"I call for a rematch. I don't think that stopwatch was right." Riley argued.

"Don't be such a sore loser." Naomi pinched Riley's cheek playfully.

Alison watched their interaction. All the playfulness and physical touching was something she'd observed over many years. She understood the significance behind it, but she couldn't feel what they felt. She wouldn't understand the importance of touch until a certain brunette would render her helpless with a single touch years later.

"Ugh, you sound like my mom on Family Game Night." Riley swatted Naomi's hands away.

Alison had been to one of Riley's Family Game Nights and they were brutal. She'd rather sit through the murder of her family again than be subjected to Riley's father's rants about the economy. It always ended with someone flipping the board. Usually Riley.

"That reminds me. Alison, my parents wanted to know if you're still coming for dinner this weekend. You're the only hold out." Riley faced her friend, her lip trembling, pouting.

I'd rather shove my face into a paper shredder.

"Wouldn't miss it." Alison gave her a fake peppy smile. "Speaking of things I wouldn't miss…I've got some Lab work for Criminology that I really need to catch up on. So I'll text you later."

She always knew how to make a clean break away from her friends. And the girls were too self-involved to notice when she slipped off on her own. Nick usually peeled away after Alison left. He was probably tired of their hijinks, too.

Alison ducked into the Lab, waving to the instructor monitoring the classroom. He was used to seeing her, so he barely offered more than a second glance her way. He often buried his nose in books and never uttered a peep.

She liked him.

She walked over to a shelf where some of the classroom items were stored and pulled out a box marked "Blood Samples". She stroked the top of the box gently. Looking at blood made her teeth chatter in excitement.

Alex had put her on edge. She wasn't sure what the wanna-be reporter was insinuating about the articles, but she didn't like that she was snooping around. She was hoping that looking at the slides would help.

She sat the box down next to a microscope and pulled out a stool to sit on. She opened the box, finding the numbered slides and carefully reached for the first one. She put it on the base of the microscope and adjusted the clip to hold it in place. Then she positioned herself above the eye-piece and focused her vision before flipping the power switch on.

She blinked several times to adjust her eyesight, her lashes magnified in the viewfinder. She waited for the image to form in her vision. Her patience was rewarded with a stunning display.

Millions of tiny little red blood cells and white blood cells swirled together to create a beautiful kaleidoscope of color. She could get lost in it for days. It soothed her.

She carefully studied the characteristics of the blood as she moved the slide around.

The numbers on the slides coordinated with a specific animal. The blood had been donated by a local veterinarian. The instructor liked to switch them around weekly. Alison loved the challenge, trying to determine where the blood had come from.

"Bovine…" Alison uttered to herself, staring at the swirls in the blood.

Cow's blood.

Animals had open vascular systems and differed by plasma content, which meant that the cell structures and the way they bonded under the scope was vastly different from humans as far as antigens, white antibodies, and hormone levels. They each looked a tiny bit different, unique.

Alison opened her notebook and looked at her notes and drawings. In the margin she had written a helpful hint.

Human blood v. Animal blood: Human blood's respiratory pigment comprises of hemoglobin. Animal blood's respiratory pigment has other additional pigments.

She jotted down her first guess, then moved to the next slide. She stared at the images starting to swirl in the blood. She'd looked at the slides so often that she had practically memorized each one.

"Equine…" She wrote down as her second guess.

A horse is a horse. Of course, of course.

She switched out the second slide and looked at the third, this time taking less time.

"Porcine." Pig.

She pulled the slide off of the microscope and held it up to the light. When the light shone through, the blood looked magnificent.

She put the next slide up and knew it immediately.

"Canis Lupus." She wondered if it could be Pepe's blood from his annual check-up. They went to the same vet who donated the samples.

She put the second to the last slide on the microscope. She blinked a few times to regain her focus and carefully maneuvered the slide around, looking at the edges for clues. Sometimes she liked to work her way from the outside in.

"Feline."

That only left one slide. And she knew exactly which one it was.

Saving the best for last.

She took the cat's blood off the microscope and put the final slide up. She exhaled a shaky breath. A warm tingling sensation shot through her veins. Her heart started pounding. She tried to keep her breathing under control.

"Homo-Sapien…"

Human. The worst kind of animal. At least the ones I kill.

The drop of human blood had been donated by a hospital nearby.

She stared at the anatomy broken down in one very simple bodily fluid. It was amazing how humans were comprised of many different pieces, but without blood they would cease to exist.

Once she was done with the slide she put it up. Then she lifted the little flap of paper covering the answers.

She had gotten every single one right.

It wasn't something that could usually be done. It was hard to differentiate between certain kinds of animal blood just by looking at a drop of blood. Trained professionals in forensics needed tests to do so. But she'd looked at the slides so much that she knew them by heart. Each was a unique painting.

Like Monet. Or Van Gogh.

She had been so engrossed by the blood that she hadn't heard the soft footfalls approaching. She saw a shadow fall over her and looked up.

Alex was staring down at her.

This bitch doesn't know when to quit.

Alison glanced to the front of the classroom and noticed that the instructor wasn't there. She'd missed him stepping out.

They were in very dangerous territory. Alex didn't realize that she was playing with fire.

"Your friends aren't very nice." Alex gripped the stool next to Alison, pulling it out to sit beside her.

Please go away.

"Breaking into people's lockers isn't very nice either." Alison tried not to look at her.

Every time she looked at her she saw her hands around her scraggly little neck.

"What were those articles about?" Alex traced her finger over the box of slides.

Her dirty hand being near the blood slides unnerved the blonde. She reached over to pull it away from her, finally looking up to glare at her.

Don't touch these. These are mine.

"You saw them." Alison bit through her teeth. "They're about the murders going on in town."

"No, I mean…why do you have them?" Alex lifted her finger and pursed her lips.

"I'm working on a project."

The most convenient thing about school was that everything could be blamed on homework. In truth, she was kicking herself for keeping those articles at school, but she was afraid that if she left them somewhere at home her aunt would find them and make her go back to a stupid therapist.

"A project involving your own family's murder?" Alex pushed.

Her words took the sting out of Alison's hatred. Suddenly, she was a child again.

"You and your brother are going learn to listen to us!"

She'd been a good girl. She'd been her daddy's little princess. Why did he want to hurt her?

"Daddy, no!"

A urine soaked carpet.

Bubbles in her hair.

A Barbie towel.

A scary dark treehouse.

Screaming.

A knife.

"Jason!"

Blood. So much blood.

She stood up so abruptly that she almost knocked her prized blood slides off of the edge of the table. She scrambled to protect them.

She took a step back from Alex, because if she didn't she was going to fucking maim her. Alex peered at her curiously, like she knew what she was thinking. She was purposefully pushing her.

Do you WANT to die?

"You need to stop digging." Alison crossed her arms in front of her chest, just to do something with them.

She expected Alex to roll over and play dead, but a peculiar smile washed across her face.

"Or what?" Alex stood up face to face with the blonde. "Are you going to make me?"

"Don't. Fucking. Test. Me."

I have killed people for less…

Alison leaned into the confrontation, her face inches from Alex's face.

"I am warning you…" Her right hand clutched in a fist around one of the blood slides she'd grabbed.

She could slice Alex's throat right here and now and be done with her. Her heart was pounding against her chest, her thoughts repeating to the timing of it,

Kill her.

Kill her.

Kill her.

Naomi and Riley weren't around to act as a buffer this time.

Her hand started to shake and she realized there was fresh blood on the slide. A chipped piece of glass was digging into her palm. Blood dribbled down her skin and on to the slide, contaminating it.

Now look what you did. You made me RUIN it.

Alison took a breath and stared at Alex, who was practically begging to die.

"Stay away from me, Plunkett." Alison held her ground. "Or you'll find out exactly who I am."

"Oh…" Alex took a step back, amused, "I'm counting on it, DiLaurentis." Alex turned on her heel and walked towards the door, turning to face the blonde one last time before she left, "You think you scare me, Alison?"

I'm about to show you real fear, bitch.

"You have no idea what I've been through." The way she phrased it, the anger…the unadulterated pain…Alison recognized it. It was enough to get her to loosen her grip on the glass slide. There was something familiar in her gaze. "Nothing scares me anymore. I've already lived through the worst thing in my life."

She didn't offer anything more as she walked out the door.

Alison stared at the empty doorway, trying to decide if Alex was telling the truth or just playing dirty mind games to try and get to her.

Alison looked at the blood trail from her palm wrapping down around her wrist. She stared at the slide. The number indicated it was the human slide.

Fuck.

It was ruined.

She dropped the slide on to the floor, breaking it in half. Then she jammed her heel into it and smashed it to bits. She hated to destroy such a beautiful piece of art, but she had no choice.

She would tell the teacher she accidentally dropped it and stepped on it. He'd understand. It would be easy enough to get another sample.

I could get a new sample. Find a creep who deserves it...

She grabbed a pair of tweezers and pulled a tiny piece of glass out of her palm. Then she wiped the blood off of her hand and stuffed a balled up tissue against the small cut to stop the bleeding.

It's all Alex's fault.

I should have killed her.

She had no idea why the girl had latched on to her, but she couldn't seem to shake her. That meant she was going to have to change her game up.

That day was the first time anyone had been interested enough in her to snoop through her things.

It was also the first time she'd almost slipped up. The newspaper clippings were too much. She'd have to remember her kills another way.

She realized that she couldn't keep anything that would tie her to any of the murders.

She had a nice little bonfire that night. Then she started brushing up on how to better cover her tracks.

She had to think like a cop. Because if a cop couldn't catch her, then Alex Drake didn't have a chance in hell.

She spent years perfecting her craft, avoiding the cops at turns. That was...until she met and fell madly in love with a woman who was the lead detective in her case.

o ~ O ~ o

Alex analyzed the look on Emily's face. The detective put up an amazing front so people wouldn't see how vulnerable she was, but the journalist could see it. Emily had strategically pushed to keep Alison out of the conversation, but it wasn't because she was trying to protect her. It was because Alison was her Achilles Heel. Despite Emily's strength, her heart would be her downfall as long as Alison was in the picture.

"You love her." It wasn't a question. It was a matter-of-fact statement.

"My personal life is none of your business." Emily managed to stay calm, despite the fact that she wanted to launch over the table and strangle the journalist.

"You should be careful around her. You never know who is watching." It was equal parts a warning and a threat. "If the wrong person were to find out that you two are close, your work might come back to haunt you both. I wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to the good doctor…"

"Miss Drake." Emily cut her off, her tone cold and angry. She tried to remain professional. "If you don't want to talk to me about these photos…" She gestured towards the table full of images Alex had taken of different crime scenes, "…and answer my questions you have no obligation to stay here. But given you seem to want answers as much as I do, I think you should stick to the topic at hand. One answer for every three questions I ask. Within reason. You know that much of what I do is confidential. There is only so much I can tell the press."

Alex mulled it over. Emily knew she'd stay. The woman craved to know what the department knew. Her curiosity was her weakness.

"What would you like to know?"

Emily had to fight back a smile. She had her.

"I haven't seen you report on anything much over the years. It's usually puff pieces and stories about the government…"

"Ahh…so you follow my work…" Alex cut in, a swell of pride on her face. She thought she was someone important.

I did my research.

"Sure." Why not give her ego a little boost? It would make her more inclined to want to talk. "So, given your history and the fact that crimes are aplenty in this world, why the fascination with this serial killer in particular?"

Could it be that she was connected? That she was part of it and wanted her work to be seen?

"Every journalist wants their big break. You've heard that saying, if it bleeds it leads."

Emily didn't like the dark look she had on her face when she said the word bleeds.

"I tried to make it big with another Rosewood story…about a certain someone…who you've declared as off-limits, and what happened to her family, but it just doesn't have the same popularity as a serial killer running around the city."

Emily curled her knuckles, resisting the urge to punch her for talking about Alison's family. Alex had tried to use Alison's trauma to make a name for herself.

You conniving little bitch.

"Fair enough." Emily didn't buy one word of the bullshit she was saying. The woman was obsessed with the SLK. "You seem to have an affinity for getting to the scene before anyone else and getting photographs before the police even have a chance to cordon off the scene. You know specific details about these cases. You claim you have a source. Who is it?"

Something about Alex was setting her radar off, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

"Oh, Detective, you know I can never reveal my sources."

"That's a non-answer, Alex. I'm not going to count that towards our three-for-one." Given that Toby hadn't burst in, she assumed he was okay with her going ahead with her plan.

"So then ask another question."

Emily smiled, switching gears. She pulled a new photo out of the file on the desk. It was of Talia's class. She saw Alex's face blanch.

"These are your photos. It's curious to me that you were taking photos of the first victim. I thought you were a news reporter. I didn't realize that news reporters were kiddie photographers."

"It was a side-gig." She answered, too quickly. "Sometimes when there is a slow news day I need to make a little extra cash." She licked her lips and her eyes darted to the left.

She's lying.

"Two questions down. One to go." Alex tried to move on.

"That wasn't a question." Emily grinned. She could only imagine how proud Toby was of her for luring Alex into that one.

Alex was fuming, but she didn't argue. She clearly didn't want Emily probing deeper into her association with Talia.

Emily pushed anyway.

"Does NAT mean anything to you?"

Alex's entire spine stiffened. She straightened in her chair.

"I would advise you not to lie. I want you to be aware that you are in no way obligated to answer. You are not being questioned. You are not being detained. You are free to leave at any time."

Alex pulled her shaky hands up to her chest, and Emily saw something in her face she hadn't seen before.

Real fear.

Real disgust.

"I've heard of their dealings from certain sources. It's fucking disgusting if you ask me. If I had anything on that piece of shit boys club I would gladly hand it over."

She was telling the truth, but Emily pushed anyway.

"It can't be a coincidence that you were her photographer. And a week later she was dead."

Alex sighed, grumbling in frustration.

"Talia wasn't some innocent little angel. She had a dark past." The reporter glared at the image of Talia.

"We're aware of her previous employment." Emily glanced at the dancer she'd come to hate.

Alex traced her finger along the curves of Talia's body.

Creepy… Emily thought.

"People don't talk to cops the way they talk to writers." Alex picked the picture up and admired it. She was proud of her work.

Emily had to hold back a sarcastic laugh. Alex Drake was anything but a successful writer. She couldn't tell a story to save her life.

Emily didn't laugh. She didn't berate her. She didn't react at all.

Because Alex was talking and that was a good thing.

"I never should have taken the damn job in her studio, but it was good money and I figured it would be a perfect opportunity to dig up a little dirt. I didn't expect to find a metric shit-ton of it." She fidgeted in her chair and curled her fingers against the edge of the table. "I saw the look in some of those little girls' eyes…" She trailed off. "And you know what? If the rumors were true...I'm not sorry that woman is dead."

"The rumors about the NAT club." Emily clarified. Not a question.

Alex didn't seem to be paying attention. She was walking through a memory. Something had the journalist really unsettled.

"Talia really liked me. She offered to double my pay. It's more than I'd ever seen for any story."

Probably dirty money.

"I shouldn't have stayed. I should have followed my instincts and gotten the hell out of there. But I thought it was innocent…until she started getting controlling about how the kids were posed. They had to be showcased in a certain light, in a certain way. They were like her puppets. So it fell to me to stage the photos. Some of the kids didn't seem to care, but a lot were bothered by it. But I had a job to do, so even when they complained and whined I told them where to stand and what to do."

Which explained why little Mallory didn't like her, according to Mallory's mother.

Alex looked up at her. There was a wounded expression in her eyes.

"I didn't have anything to do with it if that's what you're thinking." She put the picture down and pushed it away.

"No one is accusing you of murder." Yet.

Alex snapped to attention, almost leaping out of her chair at the accusation. Her eyes flittered across the room. A bead of sweat trickled on her forehead.

It was a strange reaction.

"Who said anything about murder?" A look of disgust flashed across her face. "You really think I'm a murderer?"

You're unstable enough to be one…

"I'm talking about what Talia was doing to those girls. I would never hurt anyone like that."

"So you do know about the NAT club." Emily tried to get her to confirm it.

"I know enough." Which was odd considering she hadn't written about it. Emily assumed someone like Alex would be all over that story. Maybe it was too dark…too real for her. "I've been through a lot in my life, Detective. I know how those kids felt. So trust me, I would never have done anything to hurt them."

"Okay." Emily backed off.

"The Scarlet Letter Killer victims were all a part of that pervert club, weren't they? That's why you're asking me?" Her eyes weren't on Emily. They were on the wall.

"I haven't asked my third question yet." Emily deflected, though she found it curious that Alex had made that connection.

"Right." Her voice was soft. She was docile, like she'd shut down.

Emily felt a prickle of sympathy. Something was clearly bothering her.

"Would you like something to drink? A glass of water or something?"

That seemed to bring Alex back to life. She shook her head and her glare was back in full force.

"Why? So you can try and play tricks to get my DNA to plant evidence at your next crime scene?" She moved her chair back an inch, like she was ready to stand up, but she didn't.

Oh, she's like CRAZY crazy…

Before Emily could stop herself she replied in a deadpan tone,

"Technically, we already have your fingerprints since you touched your photos." She motioned to the pictures in front of Alex.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" Alex's cheeks went rigid from clenching her jaw. "It would be inadmissible in court because it wasn't voluntary."

"So, is there a reason you don't want us to run your prints?" Emily was in the zone. She was circling Alex like a shark who smelled blood.

"Because I know my rights. And I don't trust you with your bias not to plant evidence…" Alex looked like she wanted to jump over the table, but her voice was calm, "Besides, you have to follow procedure of the law. Without a warrant you can't do anything that violates due process."

"So say that I get a warrant." Emily picked at her, trying to make her sweat.

"I don't understand what you think you're accomplishing here, Detective Fields. I've done nothing wrong. All I've ever wanted is to be respected." She lowered her head and sighed, an act so obvious that Emily saw right through it.

"You have to earn respect." Emily reached for the photos, pulling them away from Alex. "You can't bully it out of people."

"It's just sad that you're so determined to make enemies when all I've wanted to do is be your friend."

Just like Alison.

All she wanted in high school was to have a friend like Alison. Someone who understood what it was like to come from a broken family...to be broken.

"With all due respect…" With no due respect, "…I already have enough friends. What I'm focused on at the moment isn't making more friends, but solving this case. So my team and I have to look at all possibilities."

Alex fidgeted in her chair.

Impatient.

Nervous.

Irritated.

It was perfect. Emily had her right where she wanted her. Overly-emotional people made mistakes.

"Can you just ask your third question so I can get my answer?" Alex laid her arms against the table and linked her fingers together.

Emily knew she had to make the third question good if she was going to trade off and answer Alex's question honestly.

"How did you know where Alison's cabin was?" She pressed her fingertips together and put her elbows on the table.

"Thought you wanted to leave her out if it." Alex shot her a snarky sarcastic look.

"This isn't about her. It's about homicide victims that were found there. You were first on the scene. To a murder scene a hundred miles away. You even beat me there."

"I was in the vicinity visiting a friend."

The lie was very obvious. Emily simply took a thoughtful breath and nodded.

"My turn." Alex didn't skip a beat. "What's the significance of the killer posing their victims?"

Emily considered her response very carefully, knowing that it would be in the media. She couldn't risk pissing off the families of the victims by revealing they believed the posing had to do with showing the world their sins.

"The killer is telling a story."

"If that's telling a story they must have heard some real messed up bedtime tales." Alex made a face. "You want to go for a round two? I have more questions. And I have nothing to hide."

Not true. Emily could see it in her eyes.

But she played Alex's game for the sake of getting more answers. When it was her turn to answer Alex's questions she was careful with her responses. She didn't give away anything that would be detrimental to the case. She gave away just enough to feed the greedy little vulture.

When they finally parted ways Emily felt a newfound sense of relief and a sense of purpose. Alex was guilty of something, but of what?

She expected Toby to be fuming that she'd talked to Alex about some things involving the case, but he had a smile on his face when she walked into the little room behind the two-way mirror. He was leaning against the wall, a stack of paperwork in his hands.

"What'cha got there?" She pointed to the papers in his hand. "Detention slips for my bad behavior?"

"Nah. Printouts of suspected criminals. People who might fit the type of the SLK." He fanned the papers at her.

"Alex seemed pretty worked up about Talia." Emily reached for the copies she knew he'd made for her.

"That comment she made about knowing how the kids felt and hating the NAT club was very telling." Toby agreed. "It fits the profile of someone killing pedophiles and murderers." He furrowed his brow in concentration. "Did you get a feel for her emotions at all? Where was her head at?"

"The only time I saw any real emotion from her was when I mentioned NAT," Emily said. "Everything else she was spouting was bullshit."

"You totally cornered her." He pushed off of the wall and stretched his hand out to her, giving her a stack of papers. "I felt a little bad for her before I remembered why she was here. You worked really hard. That was the greatest performance I've ever seen."

"Mine or hers?" Emily propped her hip against the table next to him.

"Let's just put it this way." He grinned proudly at her. "Getting her alibis is top priority now." He cupped her shoulder with his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Good work. Chief Furey is intrigued."

"He was watching, too?" Emily lifted a curious brow.

"He's the reason I didn't go barreling in there and stop you from playing Alex's game. He told me he wanted to see where you were going with it. You didn't disappoint. He's writing up some notes, taking some things down about Alex Drake."

"She has got to be the most exhausting woman on the planet."

"That's an understatement." He laughed darkly as he motioned towards the door. "Hey, how did you come up with the question about Alison's cabin?"

"The cabin wasn't listed in her name, but Alex knew it belonged to her family through a corporation." Emily shuddered to think what the corporation truly did, but she couldn't tell Toby about Alison's parents yet. Not until she'd talked to her.

Toby saw her tension.

"You have a theory?" His hand stopped short on the handle.

"A worry, actually. That Alison might be a target." It had been on her mind since the bodies had been found on property belonging to her family.

That concern had only grown after Sara's body was found. It was amazing to her that Toby hadn't connected the dots yet. He was too focused on the big picture.

"Do we have reason other than the last two women being blue eyed blondes to suspect that?" He could tell that Emily was holding back.

Emily thought about what Alison had revealed about her childhood...about her parents.

She couldn't betray that trust. She knew how hard it was for Alison to open up.

"Isn't that enough?" She lifted her eyes to meet his, begging him not to pry, begging him to trust her. "We're working a high profile serial killer case that's over a decade long. We're bound to piss people off. Alison and I are dating. It's not out of the question to think that the killer is teasing me. Playing with me and threatening Alison."

"Nobody has been messing with me or Spencer." Toby cocked his head.

"Because you two are so private that no one knows you're together." Emily pointed out.

"Do you want to put a protective detail back on Alison?"

"Having a protective set of eyes is nice, but things happen in the shadows. And she works in the hospital...in restricted areas. I'd rather her learn to protect herself." A laughable statement if she'd only known the truth.

"That's why you've been such a hard-ass about all this training and exercise lately." He pursed his lips in thought. "Em, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because this case is twisted enough without adding my paranoia."

"It's not paranoia if someone is really out to get you." He touched her arm. "You should have said something, you idiot." His tone was a mixture of playful and serious. A contradiction. "I've been sitting here acting like a total hound about your relationship. I didn't know you were worried about her safety."

"I'm in love with her, Toby." It spilled out of her, not that it was a secret.

"Duh, Fields." He laughed. "Everyone knows that."

"I mean like…really…like I haven't been since…" She paused.

"Maya. Since Maya. Saying her name isn't going to change the way you feel about Alison. It's okay that you love someone else. Maya wouldn't want you to be alone forever."

We don't know what Maya would have wanted because she's fucking dead.

But Emily appreciated her partner's sympathy, so she sighed.

"I know." She reached for her phone and stared at Alison's picture.

They were quite the pair. Alison had spent her morning watching an old woman die. Emily had spent her morning pissing Alex Drake off. They were Rosewood's craziest power couple and they didn't even know it.

Emily spent the rest of the day writing up the details of her conversation with Alex. She felt like they were getting much closer to the truth. In a strange twist of fate, she felt conflicted about getting answers, but she didn't know why. It's like her brain was trying to rationalize something that didn't need to be rationalized.

Part of her knew that the nerves had to do with the fact that Alison had been pulled into the case unwittingly. The last thing Emily wanted to do was ask her to relive her childhood trauma, yet it was imperative to the investigation.

She knew that going to the gym with Alison would clear her head, but before they could let loose Emily had to talk to the blonde. She knew it wasn't going to be easy.

She didn't want to corner her when Alison showed up at the station, so she suggested they grab a bite to eat before their work out. She drove them to the closest burger joint and they went through the drive-thru.

Emily parked in the parking lot and they reached into the bag for the greasy take-out.

Fast food wasn't usually on the menu for either of them, but they felt like indulging since they had been working out so much.

"These things cause so many heart attacks, but they're so good." Alison chomped into a hearty-sized cheeseburger loaded with almost everything on the menu.

She savored the burger. Her parents never let her have fast food when she was little. Her mother told her it would make her fat. By the time her aunt adopted her she had an aversion to it. It was only when she was older that she tried her first burger joint.

Alison made a noise between a breath and a moan.

"You eating that burger or making love to it?" Emily grinned, dipping a french fry in ketchup before popping it into her mouth.

"Why? You getting jealous?" Alison tossed a fry at Emily.

The brunette laughed, picking it up off of her lap and eating it.

"After months of sleeping with you I can honestly say I don't think I've ever made you make that noise." Emily smiled.

"Don't you worry, Detective." She put her hand on Emily's thigh. "You satisfy me in every way."

"I live to please you." Emily reached over the gearshift and put her hand on Alison's knee.

"Oh...you do." Alison winked. "Often multiple times in one sitting." She leaned closer to Emily, her lips near the brunette's ear. "Would you like me to tell you what you can do to make me make that sound?"

Emily moved her fingers up in between Alison's thighs as the blonde placed a kiss against her earlobe and lowered her voice,

"Buy me more burgers."

Emily burst into laughter, falling back against her seat. Alison looked insanely proud of herself. Emily squeezed her knee. Alison squealed out a giggle and reached for a fry. She held it out to Emily. The detective sank her teeth into the food, showing Alison her perfect pearly whites.

They spent the next fifteen minutes acting like teenagers. Alison even boasted about getting a free toy with her meal.

Emily had never seen her so happy and carefree.

She didn't realize it was an act.

Alison had been agitated since Kathleen's apartment. There had yet to be a call about her death, which meant no one had discovered her body. Alison knew she was dead, but the cunt's death hadn't felt like a real vindication. She hadn't gotten her hands dirty. There was no blood.

There was blood in her surgery suite, but it wasn't the same. It was too controlled. She liked it better when she was free.

Alison looked at Emily, wondering why she had these thoughts.

Seeing so much blood at a young age.

Her fascination with life and death.

Fantasizing about going after bad people who had hurt her…and bad people who had hurt others.

What is wrong with me?

Why am I so broken?

"I can't tell you the last time I indulged like this." Alison shoved the last bite of her burger into her mouth. She hadn't grown up with the normal childhood luxuries, so she appreciated when she was treated to something as simple as a burger.

Alison leaned back in the passenger seat, a content smile on her face.

It was real. It was a real emotion she felt. She liked it.

Emily liked seeing her so relaxed, so at ease. She couldn't take her eyes off of her.

Alison rolled her hands over her belly like she was pregnant…with a food baby. When she faced Emily the brunette noticed a small glob of ketchup and mustard against the edge of her lip. For a brief moment she looked like a child full of wonder and excitement…over a cheeseburger. It was one of the most pure things she'd ever seen.

Alison's eyes met Emily's and she noticed that the detective was staring at her.

"What?" She blinked innocently.

Emily chuckled and reached towards her face, her index finger extended.

"You've got a little..."

She pointed and Alison reached up and rubbed the opposite side of her face, missing the mess entirely.

"Let me." Emily swiped the edge of her lip, letting her finger linger there.

Alison looked so pure.

So innocent.

How could she possibly cut her into pieces and shatter her bliss? How could she ask Alison to dig into her past knowing how much it hurt her? How could she destroy her happiness?

Emily licked the remaining condiments from her finger. Alison smiled and leaned over the console. Her lips gently touched Emily's. The brunette melted into the kiss at first, but then her thoughts took over.

The grooming. The teenage pregnancy. Tim. NAT. Talia. Alex.

Does it tie together somehow?

Was she a victim of these freaks?

I have to ask her.

I have to know.

Emily's lips felt stiff. Alison could sense something. The same thing she'd sensed that morning.

Something was bothering her.

"Okay…" Alison pulled away. "What's up? I know it's not burger breath. You've been all over me with morning breath before, and that's much worse."

Emily's eyes darted to the dashboard.

"Em…" She touched Emily's arm softly. She wasn't one to fuss over secrets. She had a million of her own, but she didn't like it when the brunette kept things from her. It made a complicated situation even harder. "You want to tell me what's going on with you? You've been weird since this morning."

Their encounter in the locker room had been exhilarating, but that didn't change the fact that something was wrong. Emily had clearly needed a release from something.

Emily sighed and fell back against the seat of the car.

"I need to talk to you about something." The way Emily was looking at her frightened her, sent a pit of dread into her stomach.

This is it.

She'd found some kind of connection…

She knows.

"It's about your parents. It may be hard for you to talk about." Emily's perfectly shaped brows bent towards one another. "I hate to even ask you, but we kind of had a bit of a break in the case today."

Sweat dribbled down Alison's spine. It felt like a flowing river. Like all the rivers of blood she'd seen over the years.

"The things your parents…" Emily stopped herself. She looked nauseous, "…what they wanted you to do. You weren't the first."

Alison's breath hitched in her throat. Talking about her past was even worse than Emily knowing the truth about her being the Scarlet Letter Killer.

"Stop me any time if it's too much." Emily put her hand on Alison's thigh.

"No. I...it's okay." She stared at Emily's hand, trying very hard not to drift into her past. "I want to help…"

Her mind was becoming a dark hole. At the end of it she could see Wilden staring at her, his hand on her thigh. Then she saw a flash, a camera. And her mother was standing there, posing her with her brother. People had been trying to control her for her entire fucking life.

Is that why I'm like this?

Is that why I can't feel anything?

Am I going to be like this forever?

Is this my fault? Did I bring this on myself?

Her chest seized as a memory struck her.

She saw her little fingers against her brother's jeans.

"Put your hand here." Her mother directed her, moving Alison's hand against Jason's thigh.

His jeans were rough against her fingertips, but they didn't stay there long.

Just as her mother said, "This time why don't you give her a little peck on the mouth?" Jason had flown to his feet.

"Fuck off!"

He was mad. So mad.

She remembered thinking "did I do something wrong?"

She was too little to understand it wasn't her fault.

"It's not your fault," Jason had assured her. "This is not your fault, Ali..."

But it certainly felt like it was her fault.

Alison blinked, finding Emily's palm against her face.

When did she move her hand?

"Too much?" Emily asked. Alison simply shook her head. "Are you still with me?"

Alison nodded.

"I want to help," she repeated quietly.

Emily hesitated before continuing.

"Did your parents ever mention a club?"

NAT, her aunt had called it. But she couldn't tell Emily. Not if she had any hope of keeping her secret. It all led back to her. She had to lead Emily in another direction. That was her plan, and she had to stick to it.

Find the copycat.

Kill the fucker.

Frame them.

Then it would be over.

"Alison?" Emily's voice was soothing and gentle.

"I…I'm sorry." Alison lied. "I don't remember much."

She wanted to tell Emily the truth, but she also wanted to protect her from her misdeeds. The NAT club members had fallen into her lap. She had taken the opportunity to deliver justice. She hadn't planned it. They simply fit her profile. But if Emily found out her family had ties to the 'gentleman's club' as her late grandfather would so boisterously call it around his grandchildren...then Emily's investigation could lead directly back to her.

"The people…the ones you said your parents wanted to entertain. You called them their benefactors."

"I always assumed they were just friends, people from work. I was too young." Alison had to stop her teeth from chattering, though she wasn't cold.

Emily reached over and rubbed her arm, giving her bicep a gentle squeeze. Alison lifted her other arm and held her hand in place, her eyes locking with Emily's.

"What about that older professor? The one...the one who..." It was hard for Emily to bring it up. Ever since Alison had told her that she'd been impregnated by a man when she was thirteen Emily had been having a hard time getting it out of her head. "Was he...do you think he was part of this group?"

"No. I don't...I don't think so. I kind of...stumbled upon him by chance. He was a monster, but not that kind of monster. He was very careful about being seen in public. From what I know about these other creeps...they're proud..." She swallowed, "They're proud of what they do."

Wilden seemed to be a perverted free-agent. No NAT involvement. Just a pervert who groomed young children.

"What brought this up?" Alison asked. "What exactly happened with the case?" Why are you asking me about this?

Emily sighed. She pulled out her phone and pulled up a photo of Talia and her class.

"I'm going to show you something, okay? And it can't leave this car." Emily stared at the picture.

"Okay."

"This was the first victim in the new cycle." She showed Alison the photo. Alison noticed that she cringed at the word victim, the same way she'd cringed when she'd called Garrett a victim.

Alison didn't move...didn't react. She couldn't react. She had to remain neutral. She couldn't give herself away. She knew Emily was watching her every move. Not because she didn't trust her, but because she was worried about her.

Your heart, my dear sweet, Emily. My God, your heart...

Instead of focusing on the dance instructor she'd chopped into little pieces Alison looked at the children. The innocent.

"Those poor kids." Alison sighed, and she meant it, just not in the way that Emily thought she meant it. Traumatized by what she did… "Traumatized by her death…"

"At least one of these little girls was a victim." Emily swallowed a knot in her throat. "Of Talia's."

I know. Alison let her eyes skip over the little girl who had told her what Talia was doing to her. That's why I killed the bitch.

Instead, she let her face drop in shock.

"What?" She tore her eyes away from the photo and looked at Emily.

She's too close. What if she talks to the little girl I treated for a UTI? What if the child tells her she told me?

"Do you know which one?" Alison took Emily's phone into her hand and pretended to study it. She didn't really need to study it. She already knew every square inch of the photo. She'd vetted Talia before killing her.

"It may have been more than one." Emily looked disgusted at the thought of it.

Alison had to wonder if she was more disgusted with Talia's actions or the Scarlet Letter Killer's murders.

Do I tell her? She teetered on the edge.

Maybe she had to head her off at the pass. Maybe the best way to hide in plain sight was complete and total honesty. If things were out in the open she had the advantage of fake normalcy.

Maybe she could give her little pity scraps. Things that would make her look cooperative and innocent.

"I recognize her." Alison squinted, pretending she noticed a spark of recognition, like she hadn't thought about the little girl every fucking day since she came into the ER.

She zoomed in on the photo and pointed to the little girl.

"You do?" Emily raised a curious brow. "From where?"

"I hate to violate HIPAA, but you talk to me about your cases all the time. If I can help…" She looked like she was thinking it over. "This can't leave the car either."

She had to play Emily's emotions just right.

Give a little, take a little.

"Of course." Emily agreed.

"She came to the ER a while ago…"

"May I inquire as to why, or is that a bridge too far?"

"Stomach pains. She had a severe UTI." She saw Emily's hands tighten into fists.

The killer wouldn't tell you these details, Emily. They would feel too guilty to share. I'm simply a doctor who treated a child.

"You don't happen to remember anything else, do you? Was she acting strange? Afraid?" Emily questioned. She was bordering on the line between asking as a girlfriend and asking as a detective, so Alison knew she needed to be careful.

"I wish I did remember something, but I see so many patients…" Alison didn't have to feign her frustration. She remembered the broiling rage she'd felt that day.

"It's okay." No suspicion whatsoever. Why would she suspect a doctor doing her job? "Do you remember when you saw her?"

"No. It's been a while. I want to say it was earlier this year sometime, but unless I had a name to pull a chart…" Alison trailed off, knowing that Emily wouldn't ask her to do such a thing.

"I'm not going to ask you to do that. It's not fair. To you or her."

Your heart is far too soft, Detective.

"I don't want you to risk your job. And the last thing I want to do is bring a child into this mess. Talia is dead. Nothing is going to change that. This just gives us a little more information about our killer." Emily's gaze was distant. "That's who I intend to focus on."

She was thinking about Maya again.

She didn't deserve to die, Emily. She didn't fit my profile. You have to know that. You have to see it.

The detective's drive to find the killer was almost like an inherent biological need. It had been fueled by Maya's death, and now that the copycat was threatening Alison it had reignited that fire.

"This club…" Emily cringed, "These people who have died…they committed terrible crimes. You already know about Garrett. Toby and I believe that the killer targets criminals. We haven't been able to connect all of the kills to crimes the victims have committed, but several of them fit the description."

You found the pattern.

"It's why I need to know if you remember anything about your parents and their friends. In the long run this could be huge in finding the killer."

Which is exactly why I can't tell you.

"How so?" Alison asked.

"Not sure I can share that yet. Even with you. Even though I want to."

"That's fair." Fuck. How was she supposed to stay a step ahead if the brunette was blocking her path? "I wish I could help you, Em. I don't remember much. They were old. That's all I remember."

"How old?" The answer to the question seemed important, but Alison couldn't give her the answer.

She sighed, realizing she had to pull the sympathy card.

"I wish Jason was here to help. He would know." Her lip trembled the slightest bit. "I'm so sorry. I'm such a disappointment. I can't even help you with this one simple thing."

She forced the tears to come, but found that the emotions behind them were real. She missed her big brother.

Jason should still be here.

"I'm sorry, Emily. I'm so sorry." She sobbed.

Her tears upset the brunette, who scrambled in her seat to get closer to Alison.

"Hey, Ali...no, no don't cry, honey." She cupped her jaw and wiped away her tears. "Listen to me." She forced their eyes to meet. "You are not a disappointment." She shook her head, grumbling something about fucking perverted assholes and then her face softened again.

"But I can't remember." Part of her statement was true. The night her family had been murdered was lost in her mind somewhere. "I can't remember anything and it's so...fucking frustrating. If I could help..."

I am helping. I help by taking care of people like Talia Standival.

"Please don't cry. Please." Emily begged. "It's okay. I'm sorry I even had to ask." She clutched her hand. "I've been wrestling with it all day."

Of course you have. You have a conscience.

What was that like?

"I shouldn't have asked." Emily kissed her temple.

"You can ask me anything." Soft fingertips grazed Emily's cheeks. "I don't care how hard it is for me." She wanted the seed planted that prying hurt her, because she knew Emily would fear upsetting her if she asked the wrong thing. "I want you to feel comfortable talking to me. I trust you."

"I know. And that's exactly why I haven't brought your past up to anyone. No one else knows what your parents were really doing." She touched the side of Alison's cheek with her warm palms, greasy from French fries.

No, I suspect they don't.

Emily would never betray her trust.

"Not even Toby knows." Emily added.

So you chose me over Toby.

Which was huge, because she was tight with her partner and best friend. She loved to hear it.

"Are you okay?" Emily questioned.

"Yeah." She didn't like Emily digging around in her head, but she wanted her to, which made no sense to her.

"I'll understand if you want to skip the work out and go home." Emily threaded her fingers through her thick blonde hair.

Alison was thinking the opposite. Beating on something seemed like it would be rather cathartic. She could pretend it was her parents faces. Then once she got it out she was going to take Emily home and fuck her senseless.

"We're here. We might as well." Alison swiped at her face, making sure she didn't feel puffy from crying.

"You sure?" Emily's brows knitted together as a perplexed look washed across her face.

"After what I just ate? Absolutely." Alison nodded. "Besides, I think it would be good for me to work through these feelings. With you." She bit her lip with a smile.

The way Alison smiled at her melted her heart. She wasn't sure quite how, but the blonde was able to switch gears so effortlessly. She knew Alison was compartmentalizing, but that's just how she dealt with things. Emily was hoping that helping her channel her emotions would help her heal.

They went back to the station and changed into their gym clothes. Emily winked at Alison when she saw the way her clothes were hugging her figure.

Toby was on the bag, pounding away with his gloves. Alison watched, wondering what he was picturing as he focused on the heaviness of his punches.

They started out with some light rowing, sitting side by side as they worked their cores and upper bodies. Alison imagined herself tightening ropes around her kills as she pulled against the machine. Her heart thrummed wildly in her chest.

When they switched to lifting weights she couldn't help but picture the dead weight of bodies. She had always been an excellent physics student. She knew how to move heavy masses without exerting much energy. It wasn't about strength. It was about intelligence.

They skipped the treadmill and walked over to watch Toby box. His entire shirt was drenched in sweat. His face was beet red, beads of perspiration sliding down his cheeks, down the back of his neck. His hair was soaked. Alison had never seen him in such deep concentration before. She sat down on the bench behind him.

Is it my face you're picturing, Detective Cavanaugh?

He let up after a few minutes, bouncing on his heels to loosen himself up.

Emily turned to Alison and tossed her a water. They were both damp from their work outs.

"You ever boxed before?" Emily plopped down beside her, a towel on her shoulder. Her hair was slick from her sweat. Alison imagined hers was, too. She looked in the mirror. Her entire body was red.

Blood pumping.

A life force.

As long as her heart was pumping, the blood would always keep her alive.

Emily tipped a fresh cold bottle of water up to her mouth and gulped down several sips.

"I'm a surgeon." Alison shook her head, answering Emily's question. "I have to protect my assets." She held her hands up.

"It's perfectly safe. You just have to properly wrap your hands. Here, let me see." Emily reached for the blonde's hands, taking them in hers.

The detective observed her palms, her fingers. They were meticulously cared for. Soft.

Not the hands of a killer, are they, Emily?

Emily reached for a thick roll of pink wrap and started wrapping the doctor's hands. Alison watched her work. She was so cautious. So focused. She would have made an excellent surgeon.

Once Emily was done with the wrap she fished a pair of boxing gloves out of her bag. She helped Alison get them on.

Toby sat down on the bench and wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm.

Emily guided Alison over to the bag in front of them. It was still rocking gently from Toby's beating.

Toby watched curiously as Emily talked Alison through what she needed to do.

The brunette put her hands on Alison's hips and helped her with her stance. Alison gave her a sulky sultry smile. It was a look that clearly stated, "As soon as we get home…you…me…bed."

Emily smiled back.

"Message received."

As soon as Emily got Alison situated she took a step back.

"Take your best shot." Emily encouraged her.

"I'm not sure about this." Alison leaned into the girly-girl routine.

Sometimes she got sick of pretending to be a weak pathetic excuse of a woman. She wondered if perhaps one day she should show Emily just how capable she was at protecting herself.

"Just give it a try." Emily encouraged her.

Alison had her back turned to them so they didn't see the devious look on her face.

She pulled back and took a breath loud enough for them to hear. She took a few swings, making sure the blows landed softly.

She heard Toby chuckle.

"Real mean right hook there, Doc." He teased her.

If you only knew…

"Don't be an ass, Cavanaugh." Emily shot him a look.

"It's okay, I can handle a little trash talk." Alison tapped the bag again.

Emily walked up behind Alison and the blonde turned around.

"It's so heavy." Alison looked at her, mesmerized.

"Well, it is called heavy bag." Emily laughed. "Here…" She repositioned Alison, moving her gently. "Lean your body into it. Square your shoulders."

Emily watched as she struck the bag again, barely moving it.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it." Alison grinned proudly.

"Fields, toss me a water."

When Emily turned around she saw that Toby was pulling his gloves off. She reached into her bag and walked over to him.

"It moved an inch!" Alison exclaimed triumphantly.

Emily laughed and shook her head. She plopped down next to Toby, putting her chilled bottle of water against her forehead as they watched Alison play with the bag like she was batting around a cat toy.

"I know she's good with her hands in the hospital…" Toby observed.

And outside of the hospital, too. Emily suppressed a grin.

"…but I don't think this is her scene. This is a whole different ballpark." He gulped down a sip of water.

"She is in a whole different ballpark." Emily lowered the water bottle as she watched Alison sway her hips and bounce on her feet. "I'm so in love with her."

"So you've said."

Emily had her eyes on Alison. There was a dreamy smile on her face.

"I'm going to marry her someday."

Toby grinned.

"Yeah, I called that months ago."

"Dude, DiLaurentis has you so whipped. Ten bucks says you two elope in six months," he'd teased.

At the time, Emily had written it off as a joke. But she'd spent a lot of time with Alison since then, and she could see that as their reality. Their feelings were intense. If it was one thing she'd learned from her past it was the importance of seizing the day. Her losses had taught her that.

Maya. Her dad. All the death that surrounded her in Homicide.

She never wanted a day to go by where she regretted not taking a leap that was both exhilarating and terrifying. And love was both of those things wrapped up in a messy package. It was a rarity to find such a deep bond with another person. It was even more-so a rarity for Alison, though Emily didn't know that.

Love was the one thing that gave their lives meaning. It was also the only thing that could save them altogether.

"Ten bucks says you two elope in six months..."

Six months could go by in the blink of an eye, or it could feel like an eternity. It all depended on who those six months were spent with. A doctor who killed people on the side and a detective searching for a serial killer right under her nose was not something normal love stories were made of, and yet, it took them less than a year to fall in love and walk down the aisle, sealing their eternal fate with a couple of "I do's". But it's what came after their nuptials that would test their love for each other.

How far was someone willing to go when love was on the line?

How much blood would be spilled?

And who would be left standing?

The question wasn't how much they loved one another. The question was whether or not they'd be able to survive the impending storm. Because they were treading in dangerous water, and they were fighting against forces that they couldn't control.

And it was only going to get worse, ending in a sea of blood and despair.

---

A/N: Alison may know how to play Emily, but Alex sure doesn't! That pesky reporter certainly knows how to get under everyone's skin. What exactly is she hiding? Why didn't Alison just stab her in the neck when she had a chance?

Time jump in the next chapter. So naturally, I'm questioning literally every word in editing.

Thoughts/theories always welcome. I'm loving what you all are coming up with so far.