Hi there!

I know, I know, it's really been a long while since I posted the first chapter of this fic and I've left you all kind of hanging for continuation. I'm so sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long, believe me, but Vauseman mood was low, and I'm also writing another fanfiction about this other OTP, so... Yep, since I'm more into that other pairing I didn't want to rush this work and risk giving you something that was OOC and wasn't purely Vauseman or that had some bits of Sanvers traits in it, lol, so I prefered to take my time.

I want to thank you all for your patience however, which I'm gonna need to ask you to have a little more while I'm writing these two fics, and I also want to thank you for all the wonderful kind words you have left in the comments :D Really, at first I wasn't even sure about this idea but it seems you have liked it and I'm so, so happy you did :) So thank you so very much.

Like I said, the inital idea for this was a two-shot, but of course, it came out longer, I hope you don't mind :)

Oh, one last thing before I leave you to this. I noticed that in the AN of the first chapter I forgot to mention that since this fic is a canon-divergence AU, I decided to stick to the main facts (like how Alex and Piper met and everything in between) but I decided to change Alex's occupation, because the whole drug dealer business would have changed the tone of the story into a too serious one, when this is suppoused to be mostly "romantic" so... Here. Just wanted to mention the divergence, and it'll all make sense when you read the profession I chose for her :)

Now I'll leave you to the chapter :D

Enjoy

Alex Vause is all you can think about.

Ever since you met her your thoughts have been filled with flashes of a mischievous smirk, long dark hair, ivory skin and stunning emerald eyes.

She is easily the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.

And even if your interaction has been relatively brief, much to your disappointment, the short time has been more than enough for the woman to have a certain effect on you, that's for sure.

There is something just so... compelling about her.

You don't know what it is exactly, if it is just a physical thing or if it has to do with the whole veil of mystery that she keeps wrapped around her. All you know is that try to get Alex out of your thoughts is nearly impossible.

And this could be the reason why you may or may not find yourself there in that same bar you met her, an exact week later, purely by coincidence, of course, trying to tell to your very contradictory self that you are not so pleased and excited after all when you happen to spot her sitting at the counter with a glass of whiskey as her only companion.

The grin on your face, however, says otherwise.

You work up some courage, willing your heart rate to remain within a normal range, before sliding into the stool next to her. Very discreetly. Or at least that's what you think before she greets you without tearing her gaze away from her glass and with an infuriatingly smug, "I was wondering how much longer you would have stayed there and keep staring at me before joining."

Were you staring at her?

Pfft. No, of course not.

That's ridiculous.

...It's totally possible.

You deny the accusation with a sputtered "I wasn't staring!"

She just smirks and orders you a margarita.

"Tough day?" You ask, fighting against the flush on your face and tilting your chin to what you can sense must be at least her second glass.

She shrugs taking another sip and suddenly your mouth feels incredibly dry at the sight of those rosy, generous lips sealing delicately around the rim.

You swallow.

Where's that margarita?

"More like a couple of very busy ones, but with my job, I'm kinda used to it." She answers at last and you are infinitely glad for the distraction provided.

You didn't really have the occasion to talk much the first time. She was there with her friends and you were just passing by, so you hope you don't sound too intrusive when you tentatively ask her about her job. Then you remember that she has actually snooped and teased you about your résumé and that sensation that made you feel like you might be prying turns into a "it just seems fair".

If only you could have somehow prepared yourself for her answer...

"I'm a manager for a couple of rock bands."

For a moment, you feel like being underwater. The sounds around you, the music in the bar, the quiet chatting and soft laughter at the tables feel muffled. At the only exception for the loud, powerful thud in your chest that echoes in your ears. And the sensation doesn't get better when she continues.

"I just got back tonight from a four day tour in Texas, and I needed a drink."

You try, you really do, but eventually the curiousity and that something swirling inside you get the better of you.

"So... I take it you travel a lot then?"

Your hands are getting sweaty and the way you ask that question sounds suspicious to your own ears, and Alex notices the tentativeness in your tone if the way she smirks at you so infuriatingly is any indication. God this woman.

"I do actually," She answers with a nod. "All over the country, sometimes in Europe, it depends, really."

"Sounds exciting." You didn't even mean for that thought to slip past your lips, but it happens, glad that Alex for once doesn't think much of the comment.

"Yeah well, it doesn't require a major in comparative literature," Of course she can't resist the temptation to tease you again, and you roll your eyes. "Although I do love reading."

This time you force your thoughts not to go there, you force yourself to think "coincidences", because she certainly isn't the only woman on earth who likes reading and wears black rimmed glasses and travels a lot and is at a concert almost every day.

But still, doesn't matter how hard you try, you know that you can't stop that flicker of suspicious that has settled in your chest from brightening into something resembling dangerous hope.

You just nod, taking a generous sip of your drink as soon as it is placed in front of you, willing that feeling away, or at least trying to subdue it with the light buzz of the tequila.

"What about you, Piper Chapman?" She asks then with a lopsided smile. "I bet the best parts of yourself are the ones you have left out of your résumé."

Oh, she's good.

You'll give her that.

She probably has a girl in every port, as they say. She definitely looks like the kind of person who likes to party and have fun in every possible way. And given her natural charm and mischievous looks you can only imagine what kind of entertainments she enjoys most if the way she is looking at you right now is any indication.

She doesn't even try to mask her appreciation as she scans you up and down, lingering on the most... exposed... places. Like your long legs.

Part of you is a little bit tempted to throw your drink in her face actually, mostly out of curiosity to see how she will react.

The other part however... revels in the feeling. So oddly invigorating.

You make a show to uncross and recross your legs as slowly and as sensually as you can manage and...

God.

You can practically feel the heat of her gaze as it runs almost hungrily from your calf, past your knee, all the way to your upper thighs, stopping there only because the hem of your dress blocks the view further up.

A delicious shiver crawls up your spine.

No one has ever looked at you that way.

In the end, you decide not to throw your margarita at her, because it's way too good. You just answer her with a teasing "I might have left out a few things" that is promptly met with another one of those captivating smirks.

"Like what?"

She slides closer to you and you can't help the way your eyes flutter shut when, in the movement, you catch a sniff of her perfume. Both delicate and strong. With a refined fresh note that reminds you of the ocean breeze.

It is more intoxicating than the tequila in your drink.

You decide to stay. Talking to Alex for the rest of the night. Because you figure that there is nothing wrong in wanting to know something more about this mysterious woman whose teasing looks and rich deep laughter make your heart flutter at a new rhythm.

At the end of the night she gives you her business card with her number on it.

"For a drink when I come back to the city, if you feel like it." She says when she hands it to you. And there is no way you can fight the smile that tugs at your lips at that invitation.

You still try to play it cool, but Alex seems to read right through you and when you answer with a pretended nonchalant "maybe" not wanting to appear as eager as you feel as you tuck carefully and discreetly away the card into your jacket, the raven-haired woman just smirks knowingly at you.

You literally just met her and yet, you already know that there is no way you could ever fool this woman. She is too perceptive. Too observant. You haven't detected a single chink in her cool demeanor, and yet, she has proven you that mischievous smirks are not the only expression she can manage with you around to amuse her, the genuine smiles that she has flashed you when you have revealed some bits about yourself, are just as charming and beautiful.

Maybe you are not as observant as she is, but before you part ways, you don't miss the way her eyes flicker on your lips for a brief second.

And when she shrugs her leather jacket on, you definitely don't miss the hint of the tribal tattoo that gets revealed when the sleeve of her shirt rides up a little in the movement.

As you watch her walk away and disappear into the crowd of customers that have gathered, the word "coincidence" is already starting to sound fake, while the frantic beats of your heart feel a lot more real.

. . .

You don't tell anyone about Alex. About those suspicious that have started to grow.

It's not like you have that great amount of friends here in the city anyway, but you do feel a bit guilty for not saying a word to your best friend either.

Although it really seems like you can't keep anything from her.

Your silence tends to be too loud.

It is a couple of days after that "accidental" encounter with Alex at the bar, during one of yours and Polly movie, pizza and beer evening on your couch that your best friend gets the first suspicion that something is going on with you.

"You know, I hope you do realize you have been smiling like an idiot for half of the movie."

And there it is.

You could easily justify the smile that is indeed tugging at your lips on seeing a humorous Jack Lemmon dressed as a woman on the screen, but it's not the kind of smile that shows amusement, and you know Polly won't be fooled by such excuse.

The time that you take to find an answer only gets her more suspicious.

"What is it Pipes? Spill."

You shake your head and shrug nonchalantly.

"It's nothing, really. No reason."

And now, thanks to that poor choice of words, she knows something is definitely up.

You dare a glance at her and... Yes, there it is.

Eyes widening, mouth falling open and a look of pure realization slowly shaping her features.

"Oh my God! You met someone!"

Ugh.

Seriously?

That's just creepy.

You are going to start spending less time together.

"What are you talking about? I haven't met any-"

But playing it cool doesn't work. Polly interrupts you with a dismissive wave as she turns to face you completely.

"Cut the bullshit Pipes, who are they?"

You sigh. Undecided if for the future you should learn to keep your emotions hidden a little better or if you should become a better liar.

You doubt you'll succeed in either of the two.

You don't go into details, you don't even tell her Alex's name or that she is a woman, and you definitely don't tell her about all the pieces of the puzzle that seem to fit just perfectly with your dreams. Because you could be wrong. You could be wrong about everything you have ever dreamed about. You could have interpreted the hints in a wrong way, you could have missed an essential part entirely, and you could definitely be wrong about Alex, too.

You just met the woman, for Christ's sake.

And yet... That part of your mind keeps pestering you relentlessly.

Because deep down, where not even doubt can't reach, you know you can't have gotten everything wrong. And that there is a reason why you feel such a pull towards Alex.

You only realize that you have gone silent for a while when you hear Polly's apologetic, "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have forced you to tell me this."

You snap back from your brooding state at her words and force a smile on your face. "It's okay. It's just..." A sigh. "That I don't feel like talking about it when I'm feeling so confused, you know?"

She nods and gives you a sympathetic smile before pulling you into a side hug. You allow it, and welcome the reassurance and warmth it brings as you exhale your frustration.

"You should go out with them, you know." She suggests then after a minute of comforting silence, kissing the top of your head and you smile at that big sister attitude. "Maybe it will help you make some clarity spending some time together."

"Mh, maybe."

Polly is right. You think about her words for the rest of the evening, and later that night, you text Alex.

You have to know.

Hey, it's Piper. Are you still up for that drink you promised?

You send the text without thinking too much about it, without rereading it, or else you know it would only feed your doubts.

Pretending that you don't practically launch yourself towards your phone when it buzzes with a new text shortly after.

Pretending that it's not a grin the one that is making your cheeks hurt when you read the affirmative answer, and not fooling yourself not even one bit.

. . .

Alex comes back to the city a few days later and you have agreed to meet her at another bar of her choice.

Great drinks, she promised. And even better food.

It sounds so much like a date that you have to steady yourself and repeat over and over that it isn't, deciding to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach with that mix of nervousness and anticipation that you have heard about but never experienced before as you take a little longer to get ready for the evening.

The extra time spent choosing a nice dress but that made it look like it didn't seem you put too much effort in your preparation, however, is all repaid in the moment you walk into the quaint bar, and this time, when you spot Alex on one of the tables, she is the one who can't help but stare at you.

"Nice outfit." Is all she says in greetings along with a pleased smile, and you grin, taking in her boots, tight black jeans, blouse and leather jacket. Casual attire, and yet it looks neat and almost elegant on her.

"You don't look bad yourself."

You take the seat across from her on the small table and only now realize how cozy and intimate the spot she has chosen is, away from the main clientele and how Alex's knee brushes delicately against yours under the table. You are so very close and you can't help but notice how the pleasantly dim illumination caresses her features, in such a beautiful way you can barely take your gaze off her. Not even when a waiter comes to take your order.

"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised you decided to accept my invitation, Piper." She confesses when you are alone once again, and...

Well. This... This is something you weren't quite expecting from her.

The tentativeness and bared hint of uncertainty don't seem to fit her so comfortably. And you suspect that she probably isn't used in showing it.

"Why?"

She shrugs and offers you a suspicious smile. "I don't know, it's just... I got the impression you weren't exactly the kind of girl who accepted invitations from a stranger, that's all."

A small part of you should feel maybe a bit offended, because you don't like to be judged by a first impression, and you don't like the idea of falling into a category or being labeled. In the end however, you end up chuckling, because she is so observant and... She's right.

"Oh, you are not wrong about that." You admit, thinking about your random hooks up in college and about how more reserved you have become recently. Maybe even a little more mature. "I don't usually do this sort of things." You say gesturing between the two of you and looking around the pleasantly lively bar.

Alex smirks looking pleased by your answer, and even more as you continue.

"It's just..." You pause, looking at her, biting your bottom lip, catching that glint of... something, into those impossibly mystic green eyes... You intrigue me. "I was curious."

She laughs. Soft and deep. A rich sound that touches a string hidden somewhere in your chest that you didn't even know was there.

"Curious, huh?"

The quirked eyebrow is a nice touch in her both puzzled and amused expression.

You give her a half nod.

"Well, curiosity is what made me ask you out in the first place too, kid."

Your mind goes fuzzy for a second, first because there is the absurd possibility that you might have intrigued Alex as much as she has you, and then there is that term of endearment that rolls off her tongue with that note of... affection.

When you finally recover there is a drink in front of you and Alex is looking even funnier at you, probably because of the added layer of pink on your cheeks and you try to divert her attention by asking her a genuinely interested, "And what were you so curious to know about me exactly?"

Alex gives you that look again. The both dark, enigmatic and seductive one that makes you glad you are sitting because of the way your knees buckle when she simply answers with, "Everything you are willing to share."

And this time, you don't hold back.

When she asks something you talk about yourself openly, lowering more barriers than you know is wise, but you can't help it.

Because talking with someone has never felt so easy and right and... effortless. And with Alex you can really talk about everything and anything.

She's smart. Incredibly so. And it is nice to engage in a conversation with someone so brilliant, who enjoys the same topics you do. Not to mention that your sense of humor is very similar, too. Dry. Tending to refined sarcasm on occasions.

She's also a constant shameless flirt, trying to get you all flustered in the most clever and subtle ways every time she can. It's infuriating how easily she succeeds, as if she knows exactly where to hit, and the sight of your mild irritation and contrasting intrigue clearly amuses her to no end.

As the evening progresses, you think that even if you are wrong about Alex, about her not being... the one... for you, you still would want her in some way in your life. Maybe as a... friend.

At least that's what you think until the night comes to an end and you find yourselves outside the bar, into the cool night air, and you understand that you could never be just friends.

Not when you catch the dark unveiled desire in her gaze when she tells you that she enjoys your company. Not when her eyes flicker again, and linger on your parted lips. Not when she cups your cheek in her warm palm and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with the gentlest touch it has ever been offered to you.

You are not sure who leans in first.

But before your eyes flutter shut you see a flash of fragments of gold sparkling on the bottom of deep green pools, and then you are consumed by the feeling of soft, moist warmth.

And it is clear, from the first touch of those lips on yours - those lips you have secretly spent so long fantasizing about - that it won't be enough. And your body agrees, as it wakes from a sort of slumber you didn't even know was experiencing. But it's the only explanation you can come up with for the way it reacts to Alex; for the first time is telling you exactly what it needs as she brings you closer to her warmth and her strong, solid form.

But you have already felt like this.

Just... not when you were awake.

When you part it is because your lungs are burning and your heart feels like it might leap right out of your chest, but even in this hazed, frantic state you still manage a few words.

Your only desire right now.

Your only need.

"You mentioned living not far from here?"

Her answer is to kiss you again.

Deeper.

Hungrier.

But soft all at once.

Enough for you to be able to feel the tug of that infuriating, gorgeous, trademark smirk against your own lips.

That charming Alex Vause smirk. I know... I'm a tease.