A/N: A bit of a swifter update than usual to make up for the wait for the last part lol - as always, thanks for reading and I'd would love to know what you think!

14. Wake-Up Call

It was still early when the sleek car pulled up in the parking lot in a shower of gravel and the passenger door opened to allow first one electric blue platform mule and then the other to step out in an attempt at elegance – one that was somewhat marred by the none-too-subtle tugging at the hem of a deep orange mini-skirt that had ridden obscenely high on long tan thighs.

"¡Date prisa!" came the shout from the driver's seat."I gotta get this baby back before the boss finds out. He thinks I'm getting her valeted or some shit."

"All right, all right," came the equally impatient response. "Why they gotta have visitation so fucking early in this shithole, huh? I tell you something, when you stuck in those ugly-ass uniforms, looking like a sack of shit, last thing you need is someone staring at you across a table this early."

"¡Aleida, dios mio! Hurry the fuck up!"

"Keep your fucking hair on, asshole!" the fiery Latina hollered back, turning on him in the heat of her anger, her attempts to straighten out her outfit temporarily forgotten. "You're paid to be the driver, just worry about fucking driving."

"Yeah, not by you, mami. I dunno why you gotta keep coming here anyway," came the disgruntled mumble, as he turned his attention to his own reflection in the rear-view mirror, adjusting the peak of the cap that came with his uniform over sulky dark eyes. "Ain't like she gonna suddenly agree to see you."

Aleida Diaz narrowed her eyes dangerously at that, but for once, she bit her tongue. Because she was going to do her talking in the visitation room of Litchfield Maximum Security Penitentiary. And one way or another, she was going to get through to her goddamn daughter.

"If you ain't back in time, I'm outta here. I mean it. I ain't copping for this," the driver warned, while she steeled herself for what lay ahead.

He was now leaning across the car to call out the front passenger window and she gave him the finger as she marched off with a toss of her long chestnut hair. As far as she was concerned, Mateo could spin his wheels all he liked. She'd already taken the chauffeur for a ride, so to speak, and if it turned out he'd since outlived his usefulness …

Oh well.

Slowly becoming aware of daylight falling across his face, in that way you sometimes could even though your eyes were still closed, Luschek shifted uncomfortably to try to turn away from it – only to realise that, firstly, he didn't have room to roll over and, secondly, the sun didn't normally hit his bedroom window like that …

He cracked an eyeball, realisation dawning on him and drawing a groan as he wiped a hand over his face.

Not his room, not his house.

Oh, nothing to get too excited by. In an admittedly most irregular show of thoughtfulness, he'd just worried about leaving his unlikely companion totally on her own. With his luck, he'd figured that it probably wouldn't take long for him to end up as a prime suspect if Dallas accidentally ODed or choked on her own vomit after last being seen in a bar with him. And letting that happen seemed like a sure-fire way to finally get booted by MCC. Although, and he realised he should probably have listed this first in his mental checklist, he also genuinely didn't want anything bad to happen to the girl – however, he supposed even that wasn't entirely for unselfish reasons, all things considered. Especially after that unexpected, brain-melting kiss.

If he was being really honest with himself, and he saw little point in efforts towards self-deception, he wasn't sure he could go too far in claiming to have played the good Samaritan. In the end, he'd checked on his little sleeping beauty a grand total of once, when he'd woken up in the early hours in serious need of a piss and then worried she'd wake up to find him peering at her and scream the place down. So he'd beat a hasty retreat back downstairs and ended up sleeping like the proverbial dead himself right until … well, now.

Luschek sat up on the couch that proved perfectly comfortable for its primary function and less so when forced to become a makeshift bed, recalling events that had led him to this point. It had actually happened, hadn't it? The kiss, that was. It wasn't just some kind of hyper-realistic dream, prompted by a serious case of wishful thinking ... And if it had, actually happened that was - and it seemed that was, however improbable, the case - why in the blue fuck had he put the brakes on?!

He chose to see himself as a realist, the kind of guy who asked what was in the glass rather than how empty or full it was. So, defeatist as it might sound, he had to consider the near-irrefutable fact that he had blown the kind of chance that was unlikely to ever come his way twice in effectively turning down a straight-up gorgeous blonde in nothing but her underwear … Her lacy, leave-little-to-the-imagination underwear …

"Morning, sunshine."

He might have jumped if he'd had the energy, but as it was, a flinch was the best his body could manage. Or maybe it was a guilty cringe at the thought of the woman in the doorway somehow reading where his mind was drifting. Again.

"Uh, hey. Sorry, hope you don't mind – although I guess it's kinda too late to be asking after the fact - I kinda crashed on your couch …"

"I kinda figured," Dallas smiled. "And it's fine. Just wish I'd been in a fit state to tell you I do have a spare room. Could have spared you the discomfort. Did you get any sleep?"

"I've definitely slept in worse places. But hey, you're the one who got wasted and I look worse than you do," Luschek mumbled, raking a hand through his sleep-tousled hair as he squinted up at her only to find her looking almost as bright and breezy as ever. "How's that fair? Although, I guess we didn't exactly start on an equal footing …"

"I've usually got a pretty good tolerance for alcohol and I didn't really have that much – it just screwed with the meds," she shrugged. "Unless you're gonna tell me I did something super embarrassing that I'm blocking from my mind?"

"Nah, you're good," he said, after a pause, not meeting her gaze and feeling slightly unsure as to whether he should be disappointed or just consider himself off the hook for ever thinking there was even a tiny chance.

"I know I kissed you," Dallas said quietly, leaning a shoulder against the frame of the door. "Sorry. Feels like we should clear that up early."

"It's … It's okay," he said, taken aback to discover she did actually remember what had happened and trying to prepare himself for a swift attempt to backtrack. "We can pretend it never happened. I know you didn't know what you were doing."

"I did though," she interrupted.

"Uh, what?"

"I knew what I was doing. And I'm not sorry I kissed you, just that I put you in an awkward position. I know you didn't want to take advantage and that was sweet, so thank you. For everything - looking out for me, cheering me up."

"Hang on," Luschek sat up straighter, a confused frown on his face. "You meant to kiss me? Like, for real?"

Dallas turned on her heel, calling back over her shoulder. "I put fresh towels in the bathroom and there's a spare toothbrush I had in the back of a cupboard. Coffee'll be in the kitchen when you're done."

"But … I … We're picking this up right here when I get back," he tried to insist, only heading for the bathroom in the vague hope a shower might clear his fuzzy head and start to make sense of what the hell was going on.

It didn't. But, slightly rumpled shirt aside, at least he didn't totally resemble a tramp when he lumbered back down the stairs and into the kitchen, finding Dallas already perched on the edge of the table sipping her coffee. She didn't look rumpled. In fact, in just ripped blue jeans, a simple white t-shirt and next to no makeup, and with her long blonde waves pulled into a loose plait, he thought she still looked fucking incredible.

"I called the school and got a few days off," she said, in explanation to an unasked question about her casual attire. "Don't think they wanted to have to explain to the kids their counsellor got stabbed in the face any more than I did. So anyway … I wasn't acting or anything."

Luschek's brain still didn't seem to him to exactly be firing on all cylinders and it took a second to realise what she meant, as he took the mug of coffee pushed towards him before Dallas continued with whatever kind of explanation was coming.

"I … drank a little bit too much," she said, with a roll of her eyes that said she thought that much was probably obvious. "Definitely shouldn't have taken the painkillers on top. But it takes a lot to really make me lose control. I wanted to forget what happened at work and … maybe some other stuff … But I just wanted to have a laugh with you too. And then I wanted to kiss you. I didn't plan it, it just happened. You definitely don't need to feel guilty though. It wasn't just because I was drunk. Okay?"

"Okay," Luschek managed slowly.

She half-frowned, even as a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You don't look convinced."

He didn't know what to say to that, shuffling his feet awkwardly as she set down her mug and sighed.

"Do I need to prove it?"

"Um, wha-"

Reaching to tug him closer, she cut him off with a kiss, one that started out insistent and melted into something softer and more relaxed. One that tasted mostly of coffee and faintly of mint, but also something sweeter on her lips and something that had to be just her. Fuck it, he hadn't a clue what was going on, but – improbable as it seemed - she was smiling against his mouth and sometimes you just had to go with it. With that in mind, he cupped her uninjured cheek with his hand and kissed her back, feeling her arms settle comfortably around his shoulders as she made space for him to stand between her knees.

Shit, this kind of wake-up was almost enough to convert him into a morning person …

Huffing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and drumming her manicured nails on the table top, Aleida scowled across the partition at no one. Even after weeks of this, she wasn't used to not getting her own way and it still didn't sit well with her.

"Why the fuck do I even bother, huh?" she muttered, preparing to gather her things and leave, even as a door opened and she looked up to find herself staring at a familiar face. One with hostility written over all it. Fair enough, she supposed, given the harsh words that had passed between them. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud. "You took your fucking time."

The inmate's glare darkened, suggesting she must have been able to lip read, but she moved to sit down anyway and even reached for the telephone that would allow them to communicate.

"Why are you here?"

"Why am I … Whadda ya mean why am I here? I'm a mother!" Aleida snapped.

"Does your daughter know that?"

The barb stung more than she would allow to show, but her grip on the receiver tightened until her knuckles turned white. "Gloria," she tried, between nearly gritted teeth. "I need you to get her to talk to me."

"She ain't your little Dayanara anymore – jumping when her mama snaps her fingers ..."

"Ha, that girl weren't ever that!"

"I'm telling you, Aleida, she's playing a dangerous game. I know this place … It changes you. Gotta do what it takes to stay afloat. But Daya … she's running with a bad crowd."

"She's in prison. Ain't none of you bitches girl scouts," came the scoff, before the inwardly worried mother relented. "Okay, okay, I hear you. Now, what the fuck we gonna do about it?"

"See?" Dallas whispered, leaning her forehead lightly against Luschek's as they finally pulled apart just enough to catch their breath. "Sober. Totally wanted to."

"Okay," he managed, with a little nod, his voice sounding huskier than usual to his own ears. "Although, if you wanna convince me some more …"

"Joel, wait," Dallas said softly, scratching the fingers of one hand lightly through his beard, smiling ruefully when he tilted his head to press a little kiss into her palm. "Here comes the but …"

Slowly, but surely, his face fell. He tried to cover it. Lord knew he'd had plenty of practice. "Aaaand normal service is about to be resumed."

"It's not what you think-"

"But I bet it ends the same way," he smiled wryly, nothing but easy-going resignation in his tone. How could there be? He wasn't surprised and he couldn't blame her. "I, uh, I should probably get out of your hair. Work. Duty calls, y'know."

"I do know," she said, grabbing his arm to stop him leaving. "And that's exactly it – work. Joel, I like you, I really do. But we have to work together and I'm pretty much on probation and-"

"That's it?" he tried, hope springing eternal. "Listen, if it wasn't for the fact I'd pretty much end up on the street in a week, I'd do the gentlemanly thing and offer to quit – but, as things stand, how about for now I just don't grab your ass in front of Fig?"

He was only half joking.

"Come on," Dallas sighed. "You know she's been dying for an excuse to get rid of me from the second I got there. Unprofessional conduct? You wouldn't be grabbing my ass at all, 'cause she'd have it nailed to the wall."

"So that's it? Just like that?"

"Don't do that. Don't give me the kicked puppy look."

"This is literally just my face," he shrugged innocently. "But, just out of curiosity, is it working at all?"

"More than you know," she laughed ruefully, taking in the sight of him as he stood there in front of where she was still perched on the table, his hands now resting lightly on her knees and his head hanging in defeat. "Hey," she tried, ducking to catch his gaze. "Who knows? Maybe you'd get to know me and realise I'd drive you up the walls. Maybe you'll look back and think, wow, lucky escape."

He regarded her wryly. "Even the fact you're kind enough to say that with a straight face suggests otherwise, Miss Ford. It's okay though, honest - you're not exactly the first woman to knock me back. But hey, you do get to be the first to be totally out of my league and not even realise it."

"Don't say that," Dallas said softly, reaching out to toy with a button of his shirt. "I'm sorry. Really I am. But look on the bright side, if Fig has her way, I'm probably only going to get to stay six weeks at Litchfield anyway. Maybe you could … help me drown my sorrows when they end up giving me the boot? Like … on a date?"

"Yeah?" Luschek asked, disbelief not quite allowing the little grin threatening to fully take hold. "For real?"

"For real," she shrugged, smiling a little at his reaction. "Why not? We could just … see what happens. After all, we wouldn't be co-workers anymore."

He considered that for a moment. "Am I a total jackass if I mentally celebrate the prospect of you losing a job you obviously care about?"

She pretended to consider, her head tilted on one side. "Mmm, little bit," she teased. "But I'll let it slide, under the circumstances."

"Hot and understanding," Luschek grinned, laughing when she swatted his arm at that. "Okay, ow …"

He was just contemplating whether it would be totally pushing his luck to try to steal another kiss to tide him over, when the moment was broken by the sound of hammering on the front door.

"And here was me thinking it was only my neighbourhood where people try to kick your door in," he joked, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You expecting trouble, Ford?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," she said, playing along. "That's me, trouble magnet …"

But even as she made light of it, the shouting started. And a look that seemed like realisation crossed her face.

"Dallas? You okay? Here, I'll go tell whoever it is to dial it down a notch …"

"Joel, hang on a min-"

But he'd already gone to answer the door, leaving her trailing in his wake.

"Hey, buddy, d'ya wanna maybe keep it down? No need to beat a hole in the-"

"I'm not having a conversation with you, whoever the hell you are," came the tight, but obnoxiously loud response. "I want to see my fiancée. Now!"

Luschek's eyebrows shot back up as he took in the sight of the suited and booted, clearly furious visitor. "Uh, listen, I think you got the wrong place …" he said, half-turning to share a bemused smirk with Dallas. Only to clock her reaction and realise he might be the one who'd got it all wrong. "Oh."

To be continued ...