Late again. For the second time. Kurt breathed in, eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. It was nearly 7:30 PM already. He released the breath he held, and then returned his attention back to his sleeping daughter. Naomi lay on her front, body spread out across his legs. Kurt sat on the couch in the living room, meticulously unraveling the braids from Naomi's hair. He had been just as meticulous when braiding the curly strands. Whenever he had the chance, he had watched tutorials on braiding hair, so although it had been his first time, the braids had turned out pretty well. Naomi had seemed to like the ministration more than the style, though.

She had gotten fussy at dinner, Kurt assumed because the lack of her mother's presence. Yesterday, Alison had not been two hours late, and so she had eaten with them. Tonight, it would not be possible since the two of them already had their meal. Naomi had clearly be restless, though, so when it was time for sleep, he set her on his lap and began braiding, after of course, changing her into night clothes. As Alison had mentioned, their daughter had almost instantly gone to sleep. Kurt smiled, running fingers through Naomi's curls. He was glad that he had gone through so many videos on his phone. Billy had helped out, too.

Kurt carefully lifted Naomi in his arms, tilting her body so that she wrapped her arms around his neck. Though she remained asleep, she moved accordingly. Like Hank. A burst of warmth spread through him as he hugged her little body in return. He tilted his head a bit, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Naomi let out a groggy noise and snuggled closer. Smiling to himself, Kurt headed out of the living room. Truthfully, he was only now getting used to giving kisses to his daughter. This past Saturday, Naomi had given him a wet, sloppy kiss to his cheek. Alison had not noticed because she had been too busy mock wrestling with Hank. It had been a startling experience. One that had sent him bowling into delight. For the rest of his life, he would remember it as a highlight. Since then, Naomi greeted him with kisses, and Kurt returned her affections with kisses to her forehead. It was a bit uneasy, especially when other pairs of eyes watched. Still, neither Alison nor Hank had made comments on it.

In fact, Hank seemed to want the same treatment if his sudden, comically soft, head-butts were any indication.

Anyway, Alison's text of working late had been vague on time. With it being so late, Kurt decided that he might as well put Naomi to bed. Carefully, he made his way up the staircase, taking his daughter to her room. He had bought one of those cribs that could transform into a full bed once the child was ready for it. Expensive, but worth every cent.

Naomi cooed lightly in her sleep as Kurt laid her down. She immediately fisted the blanket in her tiny grip. Kurt stared at her for a moment, marveling at the fact that this tiny human had managed to become his world. He smiled, and then shifted his gaze around the room, looking for the girl's stuffed penguin. Penny was nowhere in sight. Odd, considering it was her favorite toy. Usually, it was within grabbing distance. Maybe it was downstairs. With one last brush of his fingers against Naomi's cheek, Kurt turned and walked towards the opposite wall. He switched on the plugin nightlight before heading out the door.

Kurt went down the stairs, intending to go to the kitchen. The food was still on the stove. Sighing lightly, he reached for the top cabinet above the refrigerator. He pulled the Tupperware down, wondering if he had enough for work on Sunday. He should, considering Alison had not had her portion tonight. Just as he was about to scoop out some of the food from the pot, he heard knocking at his front door. Kurt set the plastic bowl down on the counter and turned his head towards the sound. He clenched his teeth when the knocking came again. With quick strides towards the front door, he wasted no time in opening it.

Alison stood on the porch, the blazer of her dark red pants suit draped over her right arm. Her white top was sleeveless, showing her otherwise covered skin. Underneath the dim light of the porch, Kurt could plainly see the exhaustion in her features. "Bunker," Alison greeted him with a slight nod of her head. She took a step forward, but Kurt did not move aside as he had done numerous times before. Alison blinked, and then raised a brow as if she did not sense the disquiet. "What?" she questioned, slight frown forming. Kurt did not reply. He only continued to stare at her. Obviously not liking his lack of speech, Alison narrowed her eyes. "I am not in the mood." This time when she stepped forward, Kurt allowed her to pass. He sighed, shutting the door, and then he followed her into the living room. "Where's Naomi?" she asked, looking around the room.

"Asleep, upstairs," Kurt stated. He crossed his arms. Alison turned to face him, frown deepening. "Where were you?" He doubted that she had remained at work for so long. Despite her sometimes daunting work ethic, she usually only brushed with the term workaholic. When it was time to go, it was time to go. Whatever could not be finished would be finished the next business day, though she would always complain and grumble about leaving things unfinished. The only exception, to his knowledge, had been the night she had been called to the CADI. Outside of normal business hours, she had ventured into an out of control situation. Chayton Littlestone. She had not done it since. Until now. Kurt had never asked her why, though he had noted the difference in her working habits.

Alison shut her eyes, tilting her head upward just a bit as she rubbed two fingers against her temple. She sighed lightly before dropping her arm to her side and opening her eyes again. Her gaze focused on him. However, she would not look him in the eye. "I was visiting Gordon," she answered. "… And Carrie. I lost track of time."

"Doing what?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business!" Alison retorted, more than a little hotly. She was clearly wound up. Agitated. A contrast of her normal cool and collected demeanor. Kurt could see how tense her body had become, as though looking for a fight. A proper physical fight. Seemingly, without reason, an image of her body—her scars—came to mind. So many fights in her teenage years caused those scars. Fights she willingly instigated. Kurt could not help the way his eyes rove over the coiled muscles of her arms. He swallowed, unsure of how to proceed, but realizing that his own irritation spiked. Alison meant to be both closed off and hostile. He would not let her this time.

"Your daughter wanted to see you for dinner," Kurt said. The words softened her, but only by a fraction. She stubbornly continued to glare. "I had to braid her hair so that she would calm down enough to go to sleep. What is so important that you can't eat dinner with your daughter like you've always done?"

"Don't you dare throw that in my face!" Alison hissed. "It's real rich coming from someone that only recently decided to eat dinner with her!" Kurt told himself that he would not get angry. Earlier, he knew this confrontation would happen. He knew how she would react to his questions inside the privacy of home. He had also known he would not relent. Therefore, he knew he had to swallow his pride and resentment. But already he could feel it—resentment and pride—bubbling hot beneath the surface, wanting to lash out and accuse her just the same. After all, she had been the one to snatch that choice away from him when she had left Banshee with their unborn child.

"Alison…" Kurt began tightly, hoping to keep his voice low and steady. "It's been hours with only a simple text, nothing about when you'll show up. And when you do show up, you won't tell me a thing! Why were you gone for so long? Is it going to happen again? How often am I going to have to reassure our daughter that mommy's on the way, only for her to fall asleep before she comes?" Alison's expression contorted with barely constrained fury. Obviously mentioning Naomi in this sense had done little to quell her agitation. That led Kurt to believe that whatever she had gotten up to after work concerned their daughter. Somehow. "Don't tell me it's none of my business! You think I don't know why you took on this personal project? She's my daughter, too, and I deserve some common fucking courtesy!"

"Deserve?!" Alison repeated in a snarl. With a vicious swipe, she threw her blazer to the floor. He had said the wrong thing. No, not the wrong thing, but he had said it with anger. Kurt should have kept that anger wrapped up tightly. Her anger was already a crackling fire. He had only added to that with his own fuel. "You deserve nothing more than what you've already been freely given! Deserve…?" Alison let out a nasty laugh. "Maybe you would have deserved more if you had been there when she started walking." Kurt felt his blood run cold in his veins. The anger receded like water on a beach before the storm. Alison apparently did not notice. She opened her mouth, eyes unfocused. "Maybe you would have deserved more if her first word had been daddy instead of mommy. Maybe you would have deserved more if you were the one to wake up in the middle of the night to comfort her and replace her tears with laughter."

With one long stride, Kurt stood in front of her, fingers wrapped tightly around her upper arms. He glared down at her, breathing harshly through clenched teeth. He did not care for her volatile aggression anymore. Her words had cut deeper than any blade or flame. She had said those things as though he had had a choice in the matter. It was not his fault that he had missed so many firsts. It was hers. One phone call and he would have been there from the beginning. One phone call and Naomi would not have had to memorize him through pictures. And now she chose to throw it back in his face like this?

Alison stared back at him, defiance and spite swimming in her dark eyes. She did not care for their proximity in this moment. He had yanked her hard against his chest, but she did nothing to pull away or provoke him into releasing her. Breath equally strained, she was still an unmoving force of nature. Despite his tight hold on her, Kurt would not bruise her. No matter how much she squeezed the anger out of him, he would not become his father. So even as he held Alison so close, he attempted to calm himself.

In doing so, he actually took notice of something beneath her spite. Fatigue. Stress. A conflict within herself. Kurt had seen it before. It had been more potent, though. Not muffled beneath resentment. It had been a few nights after being rescued from Camp Genoa. She had broken down, allowed him to hold her long into the night. She had admitted to killing. How good it felt. How it twisted her inside. The only assurance Kurt could offer had been to massage her until her tears faded and she began to sleep. They had not spoken about it afterwards. But now he was seeing it again. What had been the cause this time around? Then Kurt noticed something else. So close, he caught a faint whiff of her. Each harsh breath that passed her lips came with a hint of fruit and liquor.

"You're drunk…!" he realized, immediately removing his hands from her arms. Alison stumbled back as though she had been relying on him to keep her upright. The back of her legs hit the couch before she gracelessly sat down. She hunched over, both hands palming her face. A subdued 'no' reached his ears, and Kurt felt a scowl form. "Christ, Alison!" She did not say anything in response. She barely moved at all. Sighing, Kurt reached up, fingers rubbing hard against his forehead. She had consumed alcohol. Readily drinking did not come often for her, so this came as a surprise. Again. Before those thoughts of the past could fully form, Kurt mentally shook them off. He sighed through clenched teeth, and then moved towards the immobile woman. "Why…?" he questioned. "Why did you drink?"

"I'm not drunk," Alison murmured. She finally removed her hands from her face. However, her eyes remained on the floor. "It was only one glass of wine… I think." Considering her low tolerance for alcohol, the amount had not been reassuring. She drove here under the influence. "I already said I'm not in the mood, Bunker. Let me just get Naomi and we'll go." She attempted to stand, but Kurt remained standing in front of her. His hand darted out, clamping around her shoulder and holding her down. Alison tilted her head up, brown eyes glaring.

"You're not going anywhere with Naomi like this," he told her, glaring right back. She opened her mouth, protest nearly spewing, but Kurt was quicker. "She's already sleeping. You might as well sleep here since you're like this." Her mouth shut, lips pressing hard against each other. Her glare softened until she no longer looked at him. Kurt clenched his jaw and swallowed hard. Then he dropped down on one knee. His hand moved from her shoulder to the cushion beside her. "Tell me what's going on," he said, lowering his voice. "Why are you like this right now?"

Alison blinked slowly, but kept her gaze on him. Her lips twitched, and for a moment, Kurt thought she would not speak again. However, her lips parted and a short sigh left her. "I'm… standing on the edge of the law," she whispered, shutting her eyes. "The law—the system—is supposed to work. But the people running the damn thing can be so easily coerced. Manipulated. Led astray from what's important. It's used against the innocent instead of for them. And there's no justice in that." A wry chuckle left her then. "So in order to get justice, there's levels you have to sink to. Levels that you said you would never cross. Levels that are the same as the corrupt. But I'll do it. I have to. Even if almost every fiber of my being is protesting. I'll do it because, in the end, I'm willing to do anything for those I love."

Oh. He understood the conflict now. Like before, she struggled with how she saw herself. A vigilant officer of the court who sought justice. Or a vigilante, hell-bent on wreaking justice with one's own hands. Alison Medding had been both in her lifetime. And now the struggle came again, causing her to drink. Mostly to quell how loud the conflict became. With or without alcohol, she would stand behind whatever decision. Because Naomi's safety was at stake. She loved her daughter more than a supposed self, which was the reason she could cross that line. Cross that line. Despite her profession. Kurt clenched his teeth, suddenly recalling Billy saying those words to him.

"… You've done it before, haven't you?" his mouth questioned before his mind could catch up. Alison opened her eyes. "You used your fists instead of your career. Because of me." Again, he realized it just as the words came. And suddenly, he recognized how quiet things were around him. Or maybe it was just the pounding of his heart within his chest, drowning out everything else. Kurt swallowed, finding the implication unsettling, yet… soothing. It had effectively quieted the earlier anger he had felt towards her. The anger lingered, of course, but it had been pushed to the far corner of his mind again.

"In the end… it's never a hard decision to stand behind," Alison murmured, warmth seeping into her expression. The answer had been vague, but the implication behind them… It felt as though his heart clenched in his chest. Alison opened her mouth again, but before she could speak further, Kurt stood, taking a few steps away from her. She frowned again, and the warmth disappeared. He could breathe easier now.

"You're drunk," he repeated.

"I'm not," she denied.

"You have to eat something," Kurt ignored her. He turned, heading out of the living room. "There's food still on the stove. Come eat it." Alison huffed lightly, but Kurt heard her stand and follow him. He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, and then prepared to scoop some of the dish out. Alison had already made herself comfortable at the table. She quietly asked what he planned to serve her. "It's called Rasta Pasta. I learned how to make it in Dade," Kurt explained, reaching for a clean fork from the metal drying rack. The food had been left on the stove, but it was no longer warm. Fortunately, it was the type of dish that could be eaten at most temperatures. There were times that he had eaten the leftovers without reheating.

"Thank you," Alison said as Kurt slid the bowl across the table. After a few seconds, he chose to sit down across from her. She began eating, and almost immediately made a pleased groan as she normally did. Kurt found himself smiling. "You didn't give this to Naomi, did you?"

"No, the flavors would be too much for her at this stage in her life," he replied. "I don't think she would have liked the bell peppers." Alison nodded her head in agreement. "She had just the chicken part of it. I gave her some tangerine slices, too—the ones you told me about."

"They're going out of season soon," Alison mentioned. "So bananas work for her, too." This. This was easy. Their middle ground. This was safer territory compared to what had transpired in the living room. Their daughter was the reason they could get along. "She likes strawberries, too, but don't try to give her applesauce. She hates it."

"Regular applesauce or all of it?" Kurt questioned. Hank loved the stuff. He had planned to buy some whenever he went to the grocery store next. "Maybe we can try different flavors."

"No, I'm pretty sure she hates the texture of it," Alison explained. "She's picky that way."

"Like her mother." Mother in question gave him a less than impressed look, causing Kurt to crack a grin. Then he cleared his throat. "You want some water?" he asked, noticing that Alison had nearly finished her bowl. She nodded in response. Kurt stood up and went into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door and took a bottled water from the shelf. When he returned to Alison, she had already finished. She lifted her hand, fingers brushing against his as she took the bottle. Kurt pretended his insides did not jolt at the simple touch. He watched as she drank all the water, guzzled it down without stopping. Somethings would never change with her. He cleared his throat as Alison set the bottle down, fingers curling around it. "So… if it's easier, I can keep Naomi tomorrow," he suggested. "You go home in the morning, and then go to work, and I'll take care of her."

"No, missing a day doesn't get me a refund," Alison stated. "I am not wasting money." She stood up with the bowl and bottle in her hands. "It's okay, I'll take her," she said, throwing away the bottle. Kurt followed after, feeling a frown form.

"It would be easier if I took her," he said.

"Do you even have a car seat for her?"

"Yes," Kurt nearly bit out as Alison rinsed out the bowl. She shut the water off, leaving the bowl and fork in the sink, before turning to him with both eyebrows raised. "It's one of the first things I bought…" he admitted. The corner of her lips twitched, but the smile was gone before it formed completely. "All I'm saying is that you can skip a couple steps because I have the day off tomorrow." Finally, she relented, tilting her head forward in a nod. "You can have the bed. I'll-"

"Don't be stupid," Alison interrupted. "You have a king-sized bed—big enough for three people. You don't have to sleep on your own couch." She narrowed her eyes. "Or the floor."

"That's not a good idea," Kurt said.

"It's the only idea," she retorted.

"You're drunk."

"I'm not."

Done talking, Alison left the kitchen and walked towards the bedroom area. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bed. The pair landed in a corner. Paying no mind, she crawled on top of the bed, and then flopped down, arms sliding around a pillow and hugging it close. Like she had done it numerous times. Technically, she had. Kurt grimaced, and then sighed in resignation. It was not a good idea, but fuck if his body listened to reason. He swallowed hard, and then began moving to complete his evening routine. He stayed in the downstairs bathroom longer than necessary after brushing his teeth. Staring at his reflection, however, would only delay the inevitable. Sighing lightly, Kurt went around, shutting off the lights. He, of course, saved the bedroom light for last.

Alison, maybe already asleep, did not move due to the shift from light to dark. Kurt could see just enough to get to his dresser. Despite better judgement, he removed his pants, and then his shirt. He tossed both in the nearby laundry basket. He then pulled out a simple white t-shirt from one of the drawers. Cautiously, he looked back at Alison, holding his breath as he watched for movement. There was none. Clenching his teeth, he put on the shirt, and then made his way to the other side of the bed. This was definitely a bad idea. The insistent thought did little to stop him from climbing into his own bed. Kurt faced away from Alison, drawing his arms and legs in so that he would not accidently touch her. Once more, he sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

0-0

As usual, Kurt woke with the first rays of morning light. It had only taken a week of his new schedule for his internal clock to adjust properly. The first couple of days had been rough, but he had managed. Ultimately, it had never been a problem to get out of bed. Except for this morning. He had known it had been a bad idea, but he had fallen asleep next to Alison regardless. Now, he was wrapped up in her arms and legs. Not that she was the only one at fault. His arms wrapped firmly around her as well, face having been nestled against her chest. Sometime during the night, they had gravitated towards the middle of the bed—towards one another for warmth, he supposed. It had been like this before. Before everything went to shit, this had been how he woke up, tangled in her.

Christ.

He should have moved immediately once he realized their sleeping positions, but… he could not bring himself to. Maybe he was still half-sleep, not yet thinking logically. Whatever it was, Kurt remained put, watching the mother of his child continue to sleep. She breathed steadily, completely unaware of their closeness. She would not be so inclined to continue sleeping if she had known. Still, being this close to her, after imagining for so long, Kurt could not help himself. He lifted one arm from her body, fingers reaching to brush strands of hair away from her face. In truth, he missed this. Despite all that had happened, he still thought of it. The closeness. The security. The… love. If only it had not been so one-sided. With a soft sigh, Kurt lowered his hand. He really should move before Alison woke up.

Suddenly, she groaned in her sleep. Wincing, Kurt immediately ducked his head and lowered his arm back down. In his haste, he did not think to pull away. In fact, he returned to the same position he had woken up to, face against her chest. He mentally scolded himself, squeezing his eyes shut. Of all the things to do, he had chosen the unfavorable path. Alison shifted against him, obviously waking up. She could not sit up sharply because she remained trapped in his arms. "Wha…? Shit!" she hissed in a whisper, realizing their positions. Her body tensed so much that even if he had been sleeping, he would have felt it. Kurt waited for the inevitable. She would yank herself away, slip away from him as though she could not stand his presence. Moments passed… and nothing happened. She did not remove her arms or legs from his person. "Shit…" she said again, softer than before.

Then to his surprise, Alison relaxed. She molded comfortably against him, sighing in satisfaction. Kurt felt his heartbeat quicken, completely thrown off by her action. She was not supposed to do this. She was not supposed to make him feel wanted. But she had, and this had not been the first moment of such. Truthfully, he suspected those welcoming moments had been for the sake of Naomi. Never for him… right? Alison shifted, but not away. She moved carefully, but quickly, apparently not fearful of him waking because of her movements. After all, he had always been a deep sleeper, so why would she worry? Finally, her movements halted. Kurt could tell their faces aligned now because he could feel her soft breaths against his cheek. Her legs had unwrapped from his body, but her arms remained. It took all of his will not to react. Why was she doing this?

Kurt could not speak his confusion aloud. Not now. Maybe not ever. Therefore, he lay there, nervous, confused and still, while Alison seemed perfectly comfortable. Eventually, her breaths became steady enough. She had seemingly drifted back to sleep. Deciding to risk it, Kurt waited a few more moments before slowly cracking his eyes open. As he thought, her eyes were shut, lips parted in sleep. An inaudible sigh left him, but fortunately, it did not disturb her slumber. Maybe… Maybe it had only been the aftereffects of drinking. He, himself, had experience with next day hangovers. Sometimes, he had not been able to account for his actions. This was probably the same thing. I'm not drunk, her previous words came to mind. She had said that a lot last night. But she had to be drunk. Otherwise, what was that last night? What was this this morning? What were they?

Still, even with the questions plaguing his mind, Kurt did not move. Not yet. For a little bit, couldn't he just play pretend—pretend all this was normal? Waking up next to the mother of his child. Waking up to a family that loved him. Waking up without having to worry about the outside world. Clenching his teeth, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut again. For a moment, he could pretend that there was nothing—no invisible barrier—keeping him from… completely enjoying a quiet moment with Alison. Kurt sighed out softly, relaxing more easily now. Truthfully, he had missed the quiet moments, too. So, pretending, Kurt fell to the warm comfort of their mutual embrace.

Eventually, he woke up again. This time, alone in bed. Drowsy, his eyes searched for his alarm clock. Apparently, it had only been about an hour since the last time he had glanced in its direction. Kurt took a deep breath, slowly rubbing his palms against his face in an effort to rub the rest of the sleep away. Hearing the clack of shoes against the floor, he pulled his hands from his face. Alison stepped into the room from the hallway, in the process of slipping into her blazer. She spotted him, and her flinch was visible. "I was…" Her eyes looked away for a few seconds. "I was just about to wake you up."

"Is something wrong?" Kurt questioned.

"No. I just went to the bathroom," Alison said. However, it appeared that she forced herself to relax. "Naomi isn't up yet. She's… She sleeps deeply." The like her father never left her mouth, but Kurt heard it all the same. "Thank you for taking care of her last night. I appreciate it."

"Something like that, you don't need to thank me for," Kurt stated, standing from the bed. Alison's gaze darted to the floor. "Do you want breakfast before you go?" She had about two hours before the start of her workday—more than enough time for her to go home, get ready, and pickup breakfast somewhere, but he offered to, at least, fill the silence. Alison bit her lower lip before nodding her head. She did not look at him again. She stiffly moved to sit at the table. Kurt knitted his brow together, but did not comment. He instead walked into the hallway and up the stairs.

After finishing in the bathroom, Kurt headed into Naomi's room to check on her. As Alison had mentioned, their daughter continued dreaming. Smiling lightly, Kurt swept a bit of her hair away from her forehead. Then he let her be, switching off the night light on his way out. He kept the door open, as he had done last night, wanting to hear when she woke up. Going back downstairs, he found Alison in the same position he had left her. She had not gotten rid of the stiffness in the time Kurt had been gone. Sighing to himself, he went to the kitchen, wondering what he should make. Pancakes? He had the ingredients for it. He knew how to make crepes, too, but it had been awhile since he had. He shook the thoughts from his head. No, something quick and easy would do. Nothing extravagant. With that thought in mind, Kurt pulled out the carton of eggs and the package of sausage links.

While he cooked, he felt Alison's eyes on his person. He tried to ignore it for the most part, but he could not deny the familiar tingles. It was somewhat of a comfort that he could still feel her looking at him. Nearly done, Kurt reached for plates in the cabinet. It was then that Alison stood up from the chair and entered the kitchen. Without announcing herself, she began to throw away trash and clean up after him. Kurt pretended that it was a normal occurrence. Alison did, too, until she finished, at least. At last, she leaned against the counter adjacent to Kurt as he shut off the heat.

"I'm sorry about last night," she began quietly. Kurt glanced her way for a few seconds before loading the scrambled eggs and sausage onto a plate. "I've had a rough couple of days, and I took it out on you. It wasn't fair, so I'm sorry."

"You were drunk," Kurt said as a way of glossing over her behavior. "It's okay."

"It's not," Alison retorted. "And I wasn't that drunk." He said nothing in return. A part of him had hoped she would not remember so that he would not have to think about the callous words. Another part of him was glad for her apology. She had been in the wrong. On the other hand, he understood her frustration to some degree. Even though she had not blatantly revealed the situation she found herself muddling through. "You… You didn't deserve how I treated you. It won't happen again."

"Glad to hear it," Kurt said, passing the plate to her. She took it, and the words, with a nod her head. Truthfully, he had not needed to hear an apology. He had forgiven her, though the words had stung. He could not help himself. Even now. With time, he would probably forgive her for abandoning him in the first place. Kurt could not stop the frown at the thought. It would be much easier to move on and forget, but he could not. Not yet. Her leaving Banshee without a word—leaving him—always seemed at the back of his mind. "If-" The question died on his tongue before it could form. The sound of his child wailing upstairs had cut him off. Alison sighed lightly, setting the plate on the counter behind her.

"I'll get her," she said. "I don't know where she gets this dramatic behavior from."

Alison had already turned away, so she completely missed the incredulous look Kurt had given. Shaking his head a bit, he grabbed another plate for himself, and then one of Naomi's smaller plates. The loud crying stopped when he gathered all three plates and set them on the table. Of course, Naomi's plate had gone to the table of the high chair. Kurt then went to the refrigerator to pull a sippy cup filled with juice. 100 percent juice, according to the label. He read somewhere that juice was okay in small amounts, so it should be fine along with breakfast. He also grabbed utensils for all of them, including the plastic ones for Naomi. She had gotten better at eating with a fork. Well, she did not poke herself anymore.

By the time Kurt sat down at the table, Alison returned with Naomi attached to her hip. His little girl rubbed at one eye with the back of her hand, not completely awake yet. "Good morning," he said to both of them. He had not gotten the chance to say it to Alison. The rumble of his voice had caught Naomi's attention. She immediately perked up, eyes focusing on him. It warmed his heart that her face lit up with her smile. Naomi bounced lightly in excitement even as her mother deposited her in her high chair. Kurt leaned over, and his daughter leaned forward as well, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He returned the gesture, kissing her forehead. "You smelled breakfast, didn't you?" Naomi grinned, rapidly nodding her head before she scooped up some scrambled eggs into her hand. "Use your fork." Naomi pouted, but dropped the eggs in order to grasp the clear blue fork in her hand. "Good job." She giggled in response.

"Hey, I've been thinking," Alison began, directing Kurt's attention. She stared down at her plate, spearing a sausage link. "Even before last night, I was thinking that Naomi should start sleeping over. If it's okay with you, and if your schedule allows it. She's gotten used to you now. I think it would be good."

"Yeah… I'd like that," Kurt replied.

"Good… More time for you to spend potty-training her then," Alison said, appearing amused. Kurt nearly scoffed, but he felt himself smile. "What? You thought I was joking?"

They ate their meal in amicable silence, with the occasional chatting with Naomi. She seemed to enjoy telling them a very interesting story. Most of her words garbled in her excitement to tell it, though. Something about the birds…? It was an enjoyable breakfast, and all too soon, the plates became free of food, and Alison stood ready to go. The three crowded around the front door. "Mommy go!" Naomi exclaimed, pointing a finger. She remained by Kurt's side, other arm wrapped around his leg. "Wark…!" Alison smiled, bending her knees to lower herself to eye level with her daughter.

"That's right. Mommy's going to work," she confirmed. "Daddy Bunker will take you to daycare and pick you up again. I'll be back for dinner tonight. You be good for him, okay?"

"Kay!" Naomi replied.

"That's my demigoddess," Alison said. "Muah!" She gave a kiss and Naomi copied the sound, obviously enjoying the affection. After the quick peck, Alison stood to her full height. "I won't be working late today," she informed Kurt. He gave a quick nod in return, keeping his expression neutral. "I'll see you around 5:30 then." She opened the door and left in a hurry. She had less than an hour to head to work now. Kurt turned, looking towards his daughter. He dropped down only to lift her high. Naomi squealed in delight.

"Let's get you ready for daycare," he announced. He bended his arms a bit so that he could kiss her nose.

"No!"

It was not until he strapped his daughter in the car seat that a thought struck him hard.

"Wait… Demigoddess…?!"

Naomi only giggled cutely.

0-0

Alison had begun to count the hours down. It was not often that her eyes wandered to the clock when working. Work kept her busy. Focused. Secured, really. Here, nothing could distract her and keep her away from whatever task lay in front of her. Usually. Not today, it seemed. Not even three hours into her workday, and she wanted to leave. Anxiousness had set in at some point, and too many times her eyes strayed to the clock on the wall, her cell phone, or at the corner of her laptop. She knew the problem, but she did not know how to resolve it. Mostly because she did not know where the uneasiness stemmed from. Perhaps, it was from last night. Or this morning.

A puff of air left her mouth as thoughts drifted to her less than stellar actions. How could she have been so stupid? Alcohol had never been on her side, and yet she had gulped a few glasses of wine. Damn Carrie for offering in the first place. She had shown unsightly behavior. Her words, as well, had been nothing to smile about either. Kurt, ever the gentleman, clearly wanted to forget and move on from that, which, of course, made her feel guilt-ridden. Alison groaned aloud, pressing her palms against her face. Not to mention, her actions this morning. Why was she like this? Still bitter, but pining all the same. Kurt did not deserve either. He was doing a damn good job at being a father. Nothing else should impede that. Least of all feelings that would not stay buried. They were parents. That was all they needed to be. No more sleeping over. No more alcohol. It would be best for everyone.

The vibration of her cell phone abruptly pulled Alison from her musings. The device lay at the corner of her desk, silent until now. Sighing again, she lowered her hands from her face, wondering who could be ringing her. She picked up the cell phone, noting the contact information. Naomi's daycare. Narrowing her eyes, she slid the green icon to answer. "This is Alison," she greeted.

"Hello, Ms. Medding!" The voice belonged to the owner of the daycare. She was an older lady, but Alison had been able to see the spine of steel. Ultimately, it had been the reason for choosing the daycare above all others. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Park," Alison replied. "What can I do for you? Did Naomi-"

"No, no, it's not Naomi… per se," she interrupted. "It's about the person who dropped her off this morning." Alison felt herself grimace. Kurt. Still, the phone call was surprising. She did not call the first time he had picked up their daughter. She had not expected anything different with a drop off. "It… caused quite a stir."

"We agreed on an arrangement, Mrs. Park," Alison reminded her. "Deputy Kurt Bunker is someone I trust for this arrangement. I…" She hesitated, thinking quickly. "I had to come into work earlier than expected today, so I requested the deputy earlier as well. There's no problem with the pickup, so why do I get the sense there was a problem with the drop-off?"

"There is no problem with the arrangement, Ms. Medding," the woman stated. "Whether he picks her up or drops her off, there should be no issue. However, you must understand that my staff, other parents, seeing him with Naomi this morning… turned heads."

"How so…?" Alison questioned, dubiously. It had been four days of him picking up Naomi already. She had expected backlash that first day, but there had been no concerning calls. After all, the idea of a police escort was plausible. For someone in her position, it was not unheard of. She had relaxed after the second time Kurt had picked up their daughter, but now the worry came again.

"He… Deputy Bunker was not in uniform today," Mrs. Park stated. Alison froze for a few seconds, and then her eyes looked towards the ceiling in disbelief. "You know how they all… look alike. Many were aghast to see him holding Naomi. Someone even threatened to call the police before I settled them down." Alison tilted her head down, free hand lifting to rub fingers against her forehead. Kurt… She imagined that he had tried to calm things down himself, falling back on the old I understand my physical appearance may be unsettling bit. Alison refrained from groaning loudly in exasperation. "There was almost a physical altercation between himself and a father." Well, that confirmed it. Kurt had definitely tried his disclaimer.

"Like I said, coming in earlier to work made me request Naomi's escort sooner. I'm sure that threw his schedule off as well," Alison said. "Still, this shouldn't happen again."

"I only called to make you aware of the situation," Mrs. Park said.

"Thank you. Have a good rest of your day."

"You as well."

Only after the line disconnected did Alison sigh heavily. She could not help but feel partially responsible. If she had not engaged in drinking, Kurt would have had no need to be the one to take Naomi in the morning. Surely, he would not have forgotten to put on his uniform, knowing how important it was, if his routine had not been altered. The uniform was key to the acceptable circumstance. People saw the uniform first, and did not dwell on much else, save the tattoos. Ultimately, they assumed all by themselves of the job he must be doing. Out of uniform, like Mrs. Park had said, he looked like them. Kurt had known that, but still he had done his fatherly duty. Shit.

Blowing out a puff of air, Alison stood up from her chair. She paced the length of her office for a few moments, contemplating her next course of action. Eventually, she sighed again before searching through her phones contacts. She found Kurt and immediately pressed to dial his number. The phone rang a few times before the line picked up. "Alison," he greeted. She bit her lower lip in response. The low rumble of his voice saying her name had always managed to disarm her. She swallowed, willing her body to compose and not react to his voice at the drop of a coin.

"Bunker," she returned, neutrally. She hoped. "Are you busy?"

"Not really," he answered. "Just fixing up the truck a little until Hank shows up. Everything okay?"

"Well, I just got off the phone with the daycare." Kurt's only response was to let out a strained sigh as though he knew exactly the conversation that would follow, and that he had been dreading it. Alison stifled a smirk. "Apparently, a Nazi had my daughter in his evil clutches." She, seemingly, could not keep the amusement from her voice. Kurt huffed on the other end. "Tell me what happened?"

"I didn't realize that I forgot my uniform until we were walking up the stairs," Kurt stated. Alison imagined he slid a hand from his hairline to the back of his head. "Other parents were coming down from dropping their kids off. They saw us holding hands. They saw the swastika on my hand first. Then the one on my face. Damn it. The reactions are always the same." Alison frowned then, picturing the horror… and then the anger. "Before they said anything, I tried to calm them down—explain that I was only-" Another huff left him. "They didn't give me a chance. This guy made a grab for Naomi, and I shoved him before he could… Things just went south from there."

"Mrs. Park told me that it didn't get physical," Alison mentioned.

"No… not really," Kurt admitted. "She heard the shouting and came out before the guy could try to fight me. She's small, but she demands attention."

"Yeah, that's why I like her," she remarked. "How'd Naomi take it?"

"I'm… not sure," he muttered. "Confused, maybe…? Everything happened so fast, I don't think she had time to react to a stranger yelling at her daddy." Despite the situation, Alison felt her chest flutter. Jesus Christ. He had been behaving like a father ever since he found out about her, but hearing him say it—with his fucking voice—made her want to smile. "It won't happen again. I'll cover up more… or always wear my uniform. I'll wear it when I pick her up today."

"Yeah… okay," Alison agreed, and then shook her head, a thought suddenly coming to her. "Wait, no, you can't. Hank's coming over. And it's usually at the same time that you pick her up."

"Oh, I forgot that, too." She heard the wince in his tone. "I'll-I'll call Maggie, and-"

"No, that's okay. I'll do the pick up today… And all Fridays actually," Alison interrupted. "It won't be a problem for me to leave early once a week." She got the sense that Kurt was about to protest. "Don't worry. We'll still come over to see you and Hank." The assurance caused him to sigh in relief. "I wouldn't pass up your dinners, after all." The comment, meant to lighten the mood, made Kurt release a slight huff, entertained, unlike before. "Okay…? I'll see you later."

"Okay," he confirmed. Then he cleared his throat. "Wait, um… Are you…? Are you okay?" Alison furrowed her brow, making a noise of inquiry. "I mean, did you have a headache?"

"No, I'm fine," Alison stated. "Really. I wasn't that drunk last night." She pressed her lips together. "… Thanks for checking."

"No problem. I'll see you—both of you later then," Kurt stumbled over his words. "Goodbye."

"Bye," Alison returned, feeling herself smiling again. She pulled the cell phone from her ear, pressing the button to end the call. She pressed her lips together again, and then sighed out. He had always been good at that. Checking in on her. Taking care of her. If only he limited those traits to Naomi… Alison shook those dangerous thoughts from her head, and then went back over to her desk. She was still restless, but she really needed to hunker down and get some work done, especially since she planned to leave earlier today. So Alison sat down at her desk, and focused.

An hour later, her focus suffered an interruption. Her eyes glanced at the ringing phone. Then she laid her pen down before reaching over to pick up the receiver. She pressed the receiver between her shoulder and ear, gathering the papers on the desk. "This is Alison," she said. Brenda, the receptionist, announced herself pleasantly, and then informed of a call for her. "Thank you. Patch them through." The line beeped once before a new voice sounded in her ear. She recognized it immediately. "Carrie…" she greeted. Letting the papers fall, she diverted her full attention to the person on the other line. She had not expected to hear back so soon.

"Alison, are you busy?"

"I can make time. What's up?"

"Meet me in the parking lot, would you? I have something to show you," Carrie stated, voice low. "It won't take long." Alison understood the caution in her voice, and nodded her head, though Carrie could not see it. "You still there…?"

"I'll be out in a minute," Alison answered, standing up. Without waiting for a response, she hung up the phone, and then picked up the papers from her desk. Opening the top drawer, she slid the papers inside. After stashing her current task, Alison headed to the closed door of her office. She remained calm on the outside as she walked through the building, but on the inside, her nerves were beginning to twist. With each step she took towards the entrance, she could feel the knots forming. She knew the reason for this visit. They had spoken about it last night… before the wine.

Originally, Alison had only planned on turning in whatever evidence she found of her boss and Rebecca or Proctor. Carrie had mentioned the weirdness of having to do it in the first place. She had made a valid point of Alison collecting more than enough with the pattern she had found. The data should have been enough for an investigation at the very least. Of course, Alison had had her own doubts as well, but Carrie mentioning that… She supposed it had only hit her in that moment. The DA might not be the only one corrupted. Or being blackmailed. That judge she had spoken with had been too nonchalant about the heavy accusations of collusion.

The realization had come like a gut punch. Her reaction had been… overwhelmed, to say the least. She had come back to this town, intending to raise her child quietly, alongside Kurt. However, that was not going to happen as long as there were too many corrupt individuals. Almost immediately, she had known what would come next. And it had shaken her a bit. More than a bit. She could not use the physical evidence. Couldn't risk handing it over to a judge that was on the payroll of the enemy. So she would have to use it herself. Whatever it was. Using the same blackmail to blackmail for a different reason. Never had she thought she would sink so low. Noticing, Carrie had offered the wine. She should have stopped before the second glass.

Sighing to herself, Alison found Carrie, leaning against her dark SUV, arms crossed and expression carefully neutral. The woman gave a slight head tilt, gesturing to the other side of the vehicle. Alison frowned, but quickly made her way around. Unlocked already, she opened the passenger side door and climbed in. Carrie did the same for the driver side. Once the two sat as comfortable as they could, given the situation, Carrie turned to her. "I think I may have it. And even if I don't, this is pretty damning," she began, pulling out a tablet from in between the seats. "I might have waited, but this seemed too important to just sit on, especially with how you were acting last night. Didn't want to give you a chance to back out." The frown deepened. Alison did not want a reminder of last night right now. "So I snuck in earlier and Job-"

"Plausible deniability, Carrie," Alison reminded.

"Right. You know nothing," Carrie replied with a shake of her head. She began tapping on the screen of the tablet, quiet in her task until she found what she had been looking for. "Here it is." The blonde woman handed the device over. The screen had been set up to play some video. "Job found it hidden away. Can't believe they never thought to physically check his personal computer…" Alison focused on the screen, pressing a single digit to the play icon. As far as she could tell, the video had no sound. Also, it was pretty dark… Then the light came on, and Alison recognized the setting as an office. Vaguely familiar to her, actually. Then a pair of people stumbled into the room, a woman and a man based on their dress and suit attire. Their faces were concealed because they were too busy kissing feverishly. Alison grimaced, shifting her gaze to Carrie. "Keep watching."

Pressing her lips together, Alison turned her eyes back to the screen. By this time, the couple had made it to the desk. Completely enthused with one another, they uncaringly knocked things off the desk. The man, dark-haired, pressed the woman, blonde, against the sturdy desk, hands roaming across her body. Then he roughly turned her body around, breaking the kiss. It was then that Alison could clearly make out their faces. Rebecca Bowman and Mark Franklin. The niece of a criminal and the District Attorney of Banshee caught on camera. Jesus Christ. Mark pulled up Rebecca's dress in the video, and Alison could tell just where this would go. She paused the video as her boss unbuckled himself.

She shook her head. She recognized the office on the video now. Just two nights ago, she had visited that same office. There, she had learned of the possible connection with her boss. That idiot. Like Carrie had said, this may not be the extent of the manipulation, but it solidified the connection between them. Not that she could present this as physical evidence since Alison was unsure of how far Rebecca's fingers curled around the judicial system. No, if she intended to use this, she would have to use it herself. She gave the tablet back to Carrie and sighed heavily. "Thank you… I appreciate you doing this for me," Alison said.

"It's not just for you," Carrie replied. "So he's caught with his pants around his ankles. Pretty scandalous. No wonder Rebecca has him by the balls." Alison remained silent, mind already working through possible outcomes. It mattered little. She had prepared herself for this, hardened herself to do it. She could prepare for the worst, but her next action happens now. "The video doesn't have a timestamp, but Job managed to find the date it was sent to him. A couple weeks after being elected as DA. Obviously, she's using this to make him do her bidding. What will you do now?"

"Plausible deniability, Carrie," Alison repeated in the same flat tone as before. This time, her friend's wife rolled her eyes.

"Lawyers," she muttered, half-annoyed and half-amused. Considering she married one, Alison could only assume the other half had been amused. "Whatever you do, it could get dangerous. I have your back."

"Thank you," Alison said again. Her fingers curled around her uncovered knees. She had worn a skirt today because of the warmer weather. As summer approached, the temperature rose drastically. Her mind fleetingly went to Kurt, imagining him wearing long sleeves despite the weather. He did not have the luxury of wearing light clothes. Not as long as there were others out there who looked like him, who could not reform their ways. Alison shut her eyes for a moment, also shutting out thoughts of luxury and fairness. She breathed deeply before opening her eyes and turning towards Carrie. "This might not be the only time I need you."

"I would hope not," Carrie said. "This was hardly a challenge."

Alison made a face. Didn't like it, her ass. This woman had been raised a thief, and clearly enjoyed the lifestyle. Carrie, noting the face, gave a coy smile in return. Shaking her head, Alison moved to open the car door. "I'll see you later," she said as she stepped out of the vehicle. Carrie made a noise of confirmation before the door shut. The SUV started up, and Alison waited until it shifted into drive before beginning the path back to the building. To be honest, she was glad Carrie had not sat on this information all weekend. The time had come to make a move. A drastic one.

Steeling herself, she walked with determined steps towards Mark Franklin's office. The absolute fool. Waiting to be manipulated, as Rebecca had said. If he had been so backed into a corner, then he should have bared his teeth. Had he even tried…? Or had he fallen to his knees the moment he thought he had been trapped. Frowning, Alison came to a stop outside of Mark's office. Maybe her opinion slid towards a negative bias. It was not as though Mark knew of the recording at the time. Still, she had to wonder why this recording had been enough to sway him. The man was unmarried, no children, and not a native. His career would not be ruined if the video leaked. Scandalous, indeed, and gossip for this small town, but not exactly harmful to his position in the end. Was Mark so foolish that he could not recognize that?

From behind the door, his muffled voice beckoned her in. Alison twisted the knob and pulled the door open. The DA sat behind his desk, office phone pressed against his right ear. He did not acknowledge her entrance at all. Stifling an eye roll, Alison entered and shut the door behind her. She did not bother to listen to the half conversation, choosing to have a seat. Eventually, though, it seemed that Mark had forgotten about his visitor. Alison found herself scowling. She leaned forward, arm stretching so that she could press down on the switch hook. It was mildly amusing how Mark repeatedly said hello into the receiver, unaware that the call had been disconnected. Then, of course, his eyes shifted to her, catching her in the act. He went still for a few seconds, befuddled by the blatant… disrespect? Yes, she would call it disrespectful. Mark had done little to gain respect, after all.

"Don't worry," Alison soothed sardonically. She lowered her arm and relaxed in her seat again, crossing one leg over the other. "I assure you the conversation you were having will be less important than the one you're about to have."

"What's this about, Alison?" Mark questioned, hanging up the phone. He, too, relaxed in his seat. "It's not often you come to visit me. Need help with a case?" Alison refrained from scoffing. This man liked to offer help to other ADAs. A nice enough gesture, but ultimately subterfuge. Surely, he only wanted to make sure no one else attempted to work cases involving those of an unfortunate mindset. His iron grip on the work the DA's Office cases was nearly invisible, but there.

"No," Alison replied. "In fact, I doubt you will be helpful to any more cases." Was it completely wrong to feel so satisfied this soon? Mark furrowed his brow, obviously confused. Alison laced her fingers, settling her hands on her raised knee. "I don't like playing games, Mark, so I'll be direct… I know about you and Rebecca Bowman." It took a beat, but the DA stared at her in a startled fashion. "I know how she, or her uncle, guides you on the cases that come across your desk."

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," Mark protested, visibly becoming distressed. Body tense, he broke out into a cold sweat. Already. How had he made the rank of DA with nervous tells like this? Perhaps it had been developed during his time as DA. It could not be easy keeping such an ugly secret, especially without bribes. The man crossed his arms, an obvious sign of his discomfort. "I mean, who's Rebecca Bowman?"

"Save it," Alison retorted, disgusted by his feint of ignorance. "She's the girl you fucked soon after you got to town." Mark had the decency to flush. "She recorded it, and has been using that recording to keep you on a leash for her uncle." Alison shook her head. "Did you, at least, resist in the beginning, Mark? Or was the promise of her spreading her legs for you a second time too big of a temptation to give up?"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Mark blurted. "You're making a bold assumption here-!"

"I have video," Alison calmly stated. That deflated him considerably. "The same video Rebecca Bowman uses to manipulate you."

"H-How…?" he reluctantly questioned.

"That doesn't matter. The point is I have it," she said. "Not only that, I have compiled a list of the previous cases you have dismissed for one reason or the other. All of them have to do with Proctor in some form or another. I'm sure a judge would find my discovery quite interesting."

"… You don't understand," Mark murmured.

"Oh…? Then please enlighten me," Alison replied, nonchalantly. Really, it did not matter his reasoning. The result would be the same. "How does one of the most prominent members of the judicial system become so corrupt that he chooses to continually hinder justice?"

"It didn't start off that way!" he insisted, making sure to keep his voice low. He sighed heavily, leaning over his desk and pressing fingers against his forehead. "I came here with the best of intentions. I wanted to make Banshee… better. I wanted… it to be a stepping stone for a better position." Alison listened, keeping her expression neutral. Mark glanced at her before his eyes darted down. "I met her—Rebecca. I had no idea who she was or who she was related to. If I had known…" He sighed heavily. "It only happened once, but it was enough to get the leverage. A week later, I got the video. I didn't take the bait then. What did it really mean, right? Nothing wrong with a guy having a good time. It wasn't until I realized what Kai Proctor is capable of that I… shut my eyes to it. His influence runs deep, Alison. He's a scary son of a bitch that I did not want to tangle with."

"And yet, here you are, in his back pocket," Alison stated. Mark visibly swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. "You have become a safety net for him. For all of his little workers that push his drugs. As long as they have you, they have no fear. As long as they have you, Banshee is not safe." The DA slid a hand through his hair, fingers gripping the curls. He sighed again, lifting his gaze to her. For the first time since she had met Mark Franklin, Alison saw the pressure on his shoulders. Normally, he paraded himself about with confidence. This seemed a stark contrast. Still, she was unbothered by his demeanor. He had spent too long doing the wrong thing, and Banshee had suffered for it. She could not allow this to continue. "All because you screwed the one woman you shouldn't have."

"Tell me about it," Mark scoffed. "If she had been any other woman, the recording would not have mattered." Alison narrowed her eyes, not quite understanding. Seeing her confusion, Mark opened his mouth again to explain. "Do you know about many men disappear because it's rumored that they slept with her? I do. It's an unnecessary large amount. If Proctor sees actual video, I doubt I'll stay alive. I'm not fucking dying in this town." Ah. So that had been his reason. Fear. "You know, I hoped that it would just be a few times. She'd leave me alone after that. I never thought almost every case would have to be thrown out."

"You're a fool," Alison remarked. Mark lifted his eyebrows, releasing a wry chuckle. Well, at least he agreed. Any competent person would see the advantage of having a fearful District Attorney, resigned to following any order. "I can't believe you let it get so far."

"What would you have done if your life was on the line, Alison?" Mark questioned. Then he snorted lightly. "Or better yet, if your daughter's life was on the line? Don't pretend you wouldn't do anything they said."

"Firstly, don't mention my daughter like that," Alison said, barely keeping the snarl from her words. "Secondly, I would have done what you should have done the moment your influence was compromised. Before the first time they guided you to turning the other cheek."

"And what's that?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Leave!" she retorted, voice rising. "They should not have gotten power over you. You should have left as soon as you received that video because it was obviously a ploy at blackmail. You have no ties to this town, so it would have been a small matter to move on. Now, you're in so deep that the majority of this town's criminals are walking free. You are a disgrace to your position."

"So what happens now?" Mark wondered. He leaned back in his seat, hands gripping the leather of the armrests. "You came to me to what? Just to insult? Are you offering to help me get out of this?"

"Sure, let's call it help," Alison said, derisively. "There's only one outcome for you. But you do have a choice on how you get there. I've come to you in order to give you that choice. One: You can do nothing. Continue as you are. In the meantime, I will provide what I've gathered on you to a judge, launching an investigation into all your cases and personal life, eventually ending in your termination. This option is the least favorable because you will not be able to get another job in our field, I assure you." Mark glowered. "Two: You resign as quickly as possible. I'm thinking effective Monday. The weekend should give you time to pack up and write your resignation letter. Leave Banshee and never come back."

"Are you serious?! Just pick up and leave?!"

"There is nothing holding you here," Alison countered. "You obviously don't care about this particular position anymore, so what is the point of remaining? Do everyone in this town a favor and just go, Mark. There's nothing left for you here." The man stubbornly kept quiet. "Or three: I can leak the video and you can muddle through the chaos of that." He paled, realizing the extent of her words.

"You… After what I just told you about Proctor, you're willing to release that recording of me?" Mark asked, incredulously. "That's reckless endangerment. You wouldn't send me to the slaughter. That's not you."

"You don't know who I am," Alison stated, unrelenting. "There are few people left in this world that I care about. I am willing to cross that line for them. You are a danger to everyone I hold dear. That is not a good position to be in, Mark."

"You're threatening me," Mark realized. Essentially, yes. This conversation was a threat. However willing, though, it still made her uncomfortable. Using such underhanded methods… Still, it was necessary. Alison lowered her raised leg to the floor, and then she rose from the chair.

"I'm sure you'll make the right decision this time," she said. With those parting words, Alison walked to the door. Behind her, Mark said nothing. Alison quietly shut the door, and then moved down the hall. She could only hope that he would heed the threat. No. This would work. It had to. She was confident Mark would take the option least likely to result in his death. But would Proctor really put a hit on him just for sleeping with Rebecca? Would he really kill for something as trivial as sex with his relative? Seemed a bit illogical for a man such as that. Well, as long as Mark believed it, Alison supposed it did not matter. That fear would end up helping.

Mark Franklin would leave his position. It would take a bit of time for his replacement. During that time, the Sheriff's Department and DA's Office could begin working towards the same goal again. By the time a new District Attorney came around, The Brotherhood could be nearly gone. Sent to jail and out of Banshee, Pennsylvania. Far away from Naomi. The thought brought a smile to her face and filled her with anticipation. She could raise Naomi here. With her father. Alison halted, palm pressed against the door to her office. She suddenly had an urge to see him. To tell him about all this. She had kept silent, leaving him in the dark of her actions. Last night, he had voiced his frustration with that. He had been right. He did deserve courtesy.

Biting her lower lip, Alison entered her office. Her gaze shifted to the clock on the wall. It was nearing her normal lunch hour. Deciding, she moved to grab her purse from the back of her chair. Now would be a perfect opportunity to speak with him. Usually, the kids were around. They were small, but neither she nor Kurt liked to discuss work in their presence. Alison quickly slid her phone into her purse as she headed out. It was hours before Hank arrived, so she had time on her side. Maybe she could convince Kurt to fix a meal for her. She wondered if she had to apologize again…

0-0

Kurt abruptly flinched when the blaring music from his radio lowered in volume. He stepped away from the raised hood of his truck, facing the back of his home. Hand still on the dial, Alison stood near the radio, which had been placed on the edge of the back porch. His body immediately relaxed upon realizing the visitor. However, it was much too early to be seeing her. Alison turned around, not hesitating in her movements towards him. Kurt suppressed the familiar twitch of his lips as she drew closer. Distracting himself, he placed the wrench on the edge of his truck. Once he was sure that the tool would not fall, he turned his full attention to his unexpected guest.

Unlike himself, Alison did not hold back on smiling at him. He ignored the tremor within himself. Clearing his throat, he greeted her with a tilt of his head. "Sorry for showing up suddenly," Alison began.

"What's going on? Is it Naomi?"

"No. I'm just on my lunch break, and I thought I should talk to you. Is that okay?" Kurt cleared his throat again before nodding his head. Alison lifted her brow, and then slowly looked him up and down. For whatever reason, Kurt felt a rise of heat to his cheeks. He was not wearing anything abnormal. Just jeans and a plain white tee. His usual for when he tinkered with his truck. "If you're busy…" Alison trailed off, eyes snapping back up to meet his.

"No, I just-" Christ. Did he sound as nervous as he thought? He had been thinking about her all day. He wondered if it showed up on his face. Normally, he thought of her, to be honest. But this morning seemed to intensify his thoughts. Her skin against his. Comforting and warm. Like before. He had been fighting a losing battle ever since she appeared in front of him again after two years, so he had given up, especially after this morning. And now she was here in front of him. Admittedly, he had not prepared for this. Like he typically would have. "Can I get you anything to drink? I have water."

"I'm good," she said, turning her head to the side for a second. She bit her lower lip. "Kurt, I… I've been trying to… push the DA out of office." Her confession had been to the point. He had had his suspicions—she had showed up to his job and asked about Mark Franklin in depth—but he did not think she would just come out and say it. Not when she had been so adamant of keeping him in the dark so far. Alison lowered her gaze to the ground, parting her lips. "He is one of the biggest obstacles—a foundation to The Brotherhood. He prevents any headway, so he needs to be removed. I think I have convinced him to resign."

"You what…? How?" Kurt questioned.

"I…" Alison visibly swallowed before her eyes looked his way again. "I requested help from a thief to sneak into his house and find what I needed." Kurt felt his eyes expand in surprise. Billy's previous words formed in his head. Again. Just like they had last night. Willing to cross that line. "She found video of himself and Proctor's niece. That's how Rebecca controls him."

"So they were sleeping together?" Kurt asked once he found his voice. "That would explain why Job wasn't able to find an increase in his financials. We knew he was dirty, but…"

"According to him, it only happened the once," she mentioned. "Turns out, Proctor's possible reaction made him comply with demands." She licked her lips. Kurt followed the movement of her tongue. Fuck. He blinked a few times, focusing on anywhere other than her mouth. "He seemed pretty convinced that Proctor would torture and kill him if he found out about it."

"Those are just rumors," Kurt stated. "Or, at least, we can't prove the legitimacy of them."

"Oh… Well," Alison shrugged. "I used that fear to persuade him to step down." She bit her lip again, demeanor turning tentative. "I wanted to take what I have and go through proper channels, but it came to my attention that Mark might not be the only one being manipulated somehow. I can't take that risk, so… I blackmailed him. Gave him no choice but to step down. I'm not proud of what I had to do, but if it works, I can start prosecuting them all without hindrance. They'll be able to be arrested, in the first place, if this works. We'll be able to… get rid of The Brotherhood. It'll take time, and we can't review Mark's past cases that involved them, but it's a start. I wanted to tell you first before you found out another way."

Her wariness did not make sense. Not to him. In truth, he had reaffirmed his goal to destroy The Brotherhood a month ago. However, fatherhood tended to be a little more than distracting. Most days—every day, really—his thoughts centered on Naomi and her mother. Besides, Kurt had never been one for meticulous planning. In all this time, he had not come up with any plan to take out his former organization. Not one that involved little bloodshed. But Alison… She had done it. Kurt supposed that she had been in a better position than him in order to do it, and she had. There would undoubtedly be resistance in the arrests, but that was good compared to the alternative. Alison had paved the way for the least violent option in dealing with The Brotherhood. How could she think his reaction would be anything other than grateful?

Before he knew it, Kurt found his arms wrapped around her, lifting her from the ground, and nearly crushing her with his hug. Alison yelped, clearly surprised at the jostle to her person, but she did not attempt to pull away. In fact, her fingers curled around the top of his shirt and she laughed. Laughed outright as though his elation had spread to her. He had not heard her laugh like this since… before. "Kurt!" she squealed. "You have oil stains! Put me down!" The demand nearly went unheard because of her laughs. Kurt could not stop the chuckles from escaping his own mouth as he set her back on solid ground.

"Christ, you're amazing," he told her, faintly aware that their chests still touched.

"Oh," she said, sounding breathless. As though she had not already known. Her hands, still clamped around his shoulders, loosened a bit, but ultimately remained. His hands had only lowered to her sides. Alison's dark brown eyes bore into his, and Kurt was sure he felt her breaths in sync with his. The faint awareness became strong, but happened so slowly that he nearly flinched realizing their proximity. Too late, his lips pressed against hers. Too late to stop it. A traitorous thought in the back of his head shouted that he did not want to stop it. Everything melted away except for her. Her body, her smell, and the sounds she made for him… Kurt did not realize, until this moment, that he had wanted this so much. He wanted to keep kissing her.

However, this was not right. No matter how good it felt, Kurt realized that he should not want this. He should not be so inclined to forgetting. This was… an accident. He had merely been caught up in the news of her efforts. He had only gotten carried away with thanking her. He should stop now. Pull away and profusely apologize for touching her lips. His body did not listen. His brain had shut off the second their lips met, so his body no longer followed logical commands. His fingers tightened around her sides, and he willingly pressed harder against her, prying open her mouth. He was completely lost in the rich taste of her. He had gone so long without it. It felt like a craving he could get swept up in again.

Alison said something—moaned something—his name, maybe, but was too muffled to make out, especially with the ringing in his ears. Then her arms moved, securing themselves around his neck. She equally gave into the fervor of the kiss, meeting his tongue and sighing into his mouth. Like she had been waiting just as long. She matched his growl and the vibrations resonated down his throat, spreading deep within him. My goddess… Kurt might have tried to utter it aloud. He could not be sure now. Sensation crackled and melded, hyperactively focused on just her. Surrounded by her. Filled completely with her. Utterly taken. It seemed forever since the last time he had felt the purity of touch overriding anything else. He had been starved until now.

Eventually, the need to breathe properly caused Kurt to rear back. Just a little. His lips hovered near hers, nearly touching. He cracked his eyes open, slowly coming out of his haze. He panted quietly, but deeply, feeling the strain in his throat for going so long without air. Alison, looking to be in the same predicament, stared back at him through half-lidded eyes. Still so close, they stood there, remaining dazed until their breathing returned to normal. It was then Kurt noticed the realization forming in Alison's eyes. They widened as though she was surprised by her own actions. Kurt saw the exact second that mortification formed as well.

Alison flung her arms from him, taking several steps back, and forcing him to release her. Kurt felt the loss of her as if he had been drenched with cold water, washing away the heat. "What…?" she stuttered, eyes still wide. Her feet took a few more steps backwards. "You…" Unable to form a proper sentence, Alison appeared to be frozen to the spot. Kurt swallowed hard, honestly not knowing how to respond to anything she might have said. He recognized her startled look. He had seen it when she sat in that chair at the CADI and had stared at him. It was seconds away from flight or fight response. Before, he had not given her the time to respond because he had wisely chosen to end his… disclaimer in that situation and take off. Now, he could not, so he waited for the blow.

However, Alison chose flight this time. She hurriedly turned and fled through the open gate, not another word or sound leaving her mouth. Kurt heard her heels striking the pavement as her steps drew further away. She nearly sprinted to get away from him as quickly as possible. He could not blame her for it. Kurt breathed harshly through his nose, logical sense finally returning. Christ, what had he done? And it had been him this time. In the heat of the moment, he had… fucked everything up. He had complicated an already complicated situation.

He had been fine with their complicated relationship beforehand. There had always been this… disconnect, but it still worked for them. Kissing her though—having her kiss him back—threw a boulder at their fragile, glass-like relationship. Where could they go from here? Would Alison actually stop coming around? Stop bringing Naomi to him? Why had he not controlled himself? It was like some outside force moved his body, but he had been present for every second of it. His lips still tingled from the contact. Kurt lowered his arms, resisting the urge to touch his lips, ignoring the longing for more.

"Fuck," he said through clenched teeth.


Truthfully, this chapter was not supposed to be so long, but Kurt had a lot on his mind, so I feel like most of the 13, 000 words are his this time. Yikes. I would have liked to have updated this story last month, but the chapter demanded several rewrites. Hope it's to your liking.