Back at the house, Alex waited comfortably on the couch, the soothing voice of Norah Jones seeping through the stereo like a soft lullaby. She had lit a scented candle, a promising smell of fresh lavender, in hopes of overcoming the undeniable smell of ravenous sex in the room. The whole scene looked serene; like she was a housewife waiting for her doctor husband to come home from a hard day of probing people's intestines.

But she wasn't a wife, and she sure as hell wasn't waiting for a dick.

Not a physical one, anyway.

When the door opened, she turned her head around to see a really drunk, really pissed off Sylvie. Breathing in, she set her book down and stood up, like a warrior slipping on her armour for battle. Pressing a button on a remote, she paused the music and felt the eery feeling of silence drop like a tomb. She turned back around, and slightly cocked her head as Sylvie swayed.

She could've sworn she heard a boxing bell ring.

"Where," Sylvie growled, "the hell were you?"

Her anger was justified, Alex thought. She left the woman at the club when she and Piper snuck out. In retrospect, she realised they looked like two giggling kids ditching school after the first hour. They skipped the show, hailed a cab and went straight to her house for a more comfortable surface than a toilet seat.

She steeled her face when Sylvie strode closer. "I went home," she stated.

"And left me at the club? Alone? With no ride home?"

Alex gestured widely, "And yet here you are. Like dark magic."

Incredulous, Sylvia gaped. "Did you get forget about me?"

Walking to the dining room, Alex paused to turn, held a finger to her head and pretended to wince. "Ah, oops. Must have slipped my mind. You did say I wouldn't have been able to keep your attention tonight. Guess my attention...wandered off?"

Sylvie huffed like a triggered bull. Alex watched in slight amusement as the woman threw her clutch bag across the room, nearly toppling over a picture frame. She saw the feral look in her eyes, the haze of red already clouding her vision.

Alex braced herself. She wouldn't back down. Not now. "Sylvie," she began, stepping forward. "Look. You and I, we have a good thing going. You helped with the business and you managed to not be a bitch for the first month. But—"

"Don't continue that sentence, Alex."

She ignored the order. "But I think that you and I should end this. It's run its course."

"So, what?" Sylvie scoffed. "You're gonna kick me out of the house now?"

"It's my house, Sylvie. I bought it."

"With money that I helped—"

"You didn't do anything but drive a suitcase to a drop off spot," Alex reminded her. "I've made up my mind, Sylvie. Leave. I'll pack your things and ask Rachel to send them to you when I'm done."

"What happened?" Losing full composure, Sylvie began to wail and staggered towards her. Alex nimbly stepped to the side, causing the smaller woman to fall forward. As much as Alex wanted her to meet the floor, she managed to catch herself on the couch.

"What happened to us?" she demanded, hot tears on her cheeks. "We were—we were doing fine! We nearly got a dog, remember? We were going to travel together."

Alex grounded her teeth to dust, her patience wearing thin. They never even talked about dogs, she thought. And Sylvie only wanted to travel because she would be able to see the world, free of charge. Not for her, Alex thought, not for love. Sighing, she racked her brain, rummaging for a way to get this woman out of her life as fast as possible.

Alex crossed her arms and laced her tone with venom. "We were not fine, Sylvia. I cheated on you, remember?"

The response was pathetically pleading. "You said it was a mistake."

Alex looked at her quietly before responding, "It wasn't."

She might as well have tossed a truckload of kindle into a simmering fire. The woman exploded. In other circumstances, she would've found it...endearing. But right now, she felt a twinge of worry wedge itself in her stomach.

"That's why you're dumping with me? To—to be with that whore?"

Alex rounded the dining table as Sylvie stalked towards her. She knew she could take her on, but she wanted to avoid physical bouts whenever she could. On opposite sides, arms planted on the table, the two women faced off like a lawyer and a witness on the stand.

"That's it, isn't it?" Sylvie bellowed. "Not the bullshit ship-ran-its-course. You're leaving me for that blonde bitch."

"That's none of your business, Sylvie."

"It sure fucking hell it is. You didn't have friends before me. I gave you a social life, you ungrateful piece of—"

"That's enough—"

"Like hell it is!" Sylvie roared, unstoppable. She'll be damned before she loses her plane ticket to the world. "Tell me. Tell me this isn't because of her."

"It isn't," Alex insisted, pushing her glasses up to her head. "It's you and me. It's my choice, and you're going to have to accept—"

"Fuck you, Alex!"

At her wits' end, Alex kicked a chair. She fought to slow her ragged breath, clawed for tranquility. She needed to do this, she reminded herself. She needed to do this right. Taking a deep breath, she strode towards the smaller woman and pushed her two steps towards the door.

"Did you forget what I do for a living?" Alex's voice was so low, so cold. Sylvie felt the room temperature drop several degrees as her own face whitened.

Another shove. "Did you forget who I was connected to? Who I could ask to kill your fucking skinny ass with a click of a finger?"

She shoved until Sylvie had her back against the wall by the door. "I don't care what happens to you from this point on. You forgot who I am, Sylvia. Who I really am. And that...is a big mistake."

Alex watched as the woman fumbled behind her for the doorknob, stepped back as she swung the door open and pulled her glasses back down to see Sylvie running like a gazelle towards the corner of the street. You'd think the whole apocalypse was after her, she mused. She continued to watch her until she disappeared out of her sight.

Shutting the door, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"And who are you really, Alex Vause?"

Alex swivelled around to see Piper leaning on the doorframe by the bedroom. She wore nothing but a shirt, highlighting her toned legs that looked like they stretched right up to her neck. Her blonde hair were in waves as it rolled down her shoulders, the faint light from the candle illuminating her exotic face. Alex felt the familiar catch of breath and continued to admire the woman.

Piper, immensely and ridiculously turned on by the turn of events, sauntered towards her. She heard everything. And she knew that by the end of the night, her heart will no longer be hers to hold, and she was trying exceptionally hard to be okay with that. She put one foot in front of the other, keeping her eyes on the churning seas of green. She wasn't trying to be sexy, but the clouded expression in Alex's eyes told her she didn't have to try. She kept walking until she was toe to toe with the raven-haired beauty.

She asked again, "Who are you, Alex?"

Alex tilted her head, gave a sly smile. "Why don't you find out?" she murmured.

Without responding, Piper laid her lips on hers.

Truthfully, Alex didn't know the answer. All she knew was that she wanted bite after bite of this gorgeous, gorgeous woman. She swore she'd never tire of her taste, that sweet taste of ripe, soft fruit. Her mind fraying, she whipped them around, shoved the blonde against the closed door, yanked her arms up and handcuffed her wrists above her head.

Their mouths warred for dominance. Keeping her pinned, Alex pulled the shirt up and found Piper already hot for her, already wet. Piper's gasp ended on a cry when she drove her hard and fast to climax. She felt a new kind of madness as Alex worked her up and above a new plane of pleasure.

And when she came, she felt like her insides were turned in and out, then in again. It was brutal...but so, so glorious.

If Alex hadn't held her against the door, she might have slid to the floor like putty. Instead, despite a wracking orgasm, her system began to wake up again when she felt soft lips on her neck. It was like Alex was the car key, she thought, and she was the engine.

"One more," Alex growled. "Take more, Pipes."

Piper gasped when she felt herself be filled again. She cried out in ecstasy, feeling the fire burn strong and hot inside her. She bowed back, pressing herself against Alex, submitting to her divine torture. She could barely think, barely breathe. But she found she didn't care.

How did she do that? she thought dimly. How could someone she barely knew have this effect on her? She moaned when Alex laid her lips on hers, the kiss dark and delicious. She shook, cried out, then trembled as sweet release coursed through her, battering her battered senses.


Grinning, Piper opened the door and wrapped her arms around her friend. "Hey, stranger."

Polly returned the hug and walked inside. "For the record," she said as she shed her coat, "I'm always more than willing to ditch my boyfriend for pizza and a beer. And gossip."

Laughing, Piper shut the door and walked to the couch. She wanted to make this as casual as possible. No weird stuff. Now if she could just stop smiling like a toddler, she thought as she fought to fix her face. She leaned over to flick on one of the lamps. She barely felt the couch give way to Polly's weight.

"I already ate most of the pizza," Piper said, gesturing to the open bottles and half-empty pizza box. "And it's not gossip."

Making herself at home, the smaller woman made absentminded noises as she eyed the food.

"It's nothing serious," she continued, oblivious to her rambling. "Not really. I could've told you over the phone, but we haven't seen each other in a while. It's just something I feel you should know about me."

Polly's hand paused in the act of grabbing a slice of pizza. Her head snapped up, her eyes widening. "Are you pregnant?"

The blonde blinked, completely surprised. "Wh–How–"

"You are!" Pizza forgotten, Polly grabbed her friend's hands and squeezed. "Whose is it?" she squealed. "How long? And why haven't you told me sooner?"

The questions continued to tumble over one another like a paparazzi intervention. "Polly," Piper fought to clear through the confusion. "Polly. Polly, shh. No, I am not pregnant."

"Oh." Polly pouted as she deflated. Releasing Piper's hands, she reached for a slice and took one big bite.

Still reeling, Piper waved her hands, "I don't–why would I say that a baby isn't serious?"

Polly shrugged, "I don't know, I guess I thought you were trying to play it off."

"That's–" Piper sighed. She reminded herself why she asked her friend to come over. The thought alone made her exhale a long breath.

"Polly," she began. "I'm seeing someone."

Brightening up at the confession, Polly raised her eyebrows and took another bite. "Is that why you've been AWOL lately?"

"Work's been taking up a bit too. But she's amazing," Piper grinned. "She's so mysterious and hot and she has such talented fingers. You'll like her." Probably. Hopefully.

Deciding the pizza had one too many pepperonis on it, Polly laid it back down and reached for a cigarette.

"That's great," she said blankly, her mind still on the disappointing pizza. Maybe—

Wait.

"Wait," she interrupted, "Her? She?"

Piper prepared herself for this. She nodded solemnly, "Yes. Her name's Alex. She's the one I met at the bar."

"But you told me you threw the tissue away."

"Yeah. Well," Piper shifted, "I lied."

"Okay. I get it. No, wait. No, I don't. You know what?" Polly made exaggerated wiping gestures with both hands, "Here is the board. Wiped clean. Okay. Start from the top."

Taking a deep breath, Piper tucked her legs in and prepared to lay out the story of her relationship. She began with how they met at the bar, sensibly leaving out the part where Alex told her about her...occupation. She talked about their first time together, how it was basically heaven on earth. Hesitantly, she told her about Sylvie.

"Wow," Polly managed to epitomise sincere disbelief in that one word. "You slut."

"Hey, no. I didn't know she was taken at the time." Again, she sensibly left out her thought process and the events that followed during the burlesque show.

Polly took a slow drag from her cigarette. Thoughtfully, she blew it away from Piper. "So...is this your coming out party?"

Setting her bottle on the coffee table, Piper took and popped a piece of pineapple in her mouth, "What do you mean?"

Polly narrowed her eyes. She could obviously see that her friend was happy. Delirious, even. But she knew Piper, and knew her well. Which is why she had her doubts on how serious her best friend actually was.

"I mean, are you now officially a lesbian?"

"I'm not gay. I'm not," she insisted when she saw Polly roll her eyes. "I'm just experimenting.

Polly quirked her eyebrows, her incredulous question of Really? ringing loud and clear.

The blonde sighed, "I don't know. Maybe all of the guys that I've been with so far have just been really bad in bed, but..."

Her voice began to drift, "I'm telling you...it's like I just discovered what sex is suppose to be."

"But she has a girlfriend."

"Mmm..." Piper thought of the blissful night a week ago. "She had a girlfriend. They were having problems. It's over."

"For sure?"

"Yeah."

Polly had to smile. She really is happy, she thought. She refused to dampen it...but still. "I don't know, Piper."

Piper grinned, hiding her face in her arms. She was never this giddy about a relationship, but something about this one just made her want to talk about it again and again with whoever wanted to listen. She wanted to talk about how lucky she was. How awesome it was to have a tall, sexy woman as a girlfriend. Even just the thought of Alex made her libido dance a little shimmy. Maybe that's why, she realised. This was her first relationship with a woman. Maybe that's why she was so giddy about it.

Both women turned their heads when the doorbell rang. Without really expecting an answer, Piper asked, "Who is that?"


Feeling totally spy-like, unhygienic and successful, Sylvie peered over the top of a car. She knew she couldn't be seen; her black hood was drawn over her head, the darkness of the night aiding her aim to remain invisible. Unconsciously, her fingers curled into tight fists when she saw Piper open the door. Blonde bitch. Ass slug. Cunt rag. Fucking—

Breathing in, she told herself to relax, that her 'present'—that truly came from within—will be more than enough to get her back for stealing Alex.

She watched gleefully as Piper stomped on the paper bag, nearly howled with laughter as she heard her disgusted squeals. Blondes are stupid, she thought.

"Poop? In a bag? On fire?"

She was proud of that, Sylvie mused. She remembered doing the same thing when she was fourteen to a girl who wouldn't let her borrow her phone to text her then-girlfriend. She was the talk of the school back then...except they didn't know it was her. People had dubbed the incident as "Shitbag" and she kept her self-fame to herself, basking in its awesome and lonely glory.

"Do you think it's human shit?"

Sylvie had to bite on her hand to keep herself from howling of laughter. Of course it was human shit. It was her shit. She had to buy a whole goddamn packet of paper bags because apparently, buying one piece wasn't allowed. She shook her head; what kind of America do we live in nowadays?

Throwing the lighter she had stolen on the pavement, Sylvie slunk back into the dark. She saw and heard what she had wanted to hear. She shoved her hands in her pockets, walked away from the house and mentally patted herself for a job well done.


"Lesbians are insane," Polly announced, walking back inside. She heard a muffled buzzing, and tried to follow the sound. She tracked it to Piper's phone.

"Piper!" she called out. "Someone's calling you! It's—"

Her eyebrows rose as she glanced at the screen. "It's Alex!"

Leaving her shit-stained boots on the porch, Piper bolted in and lunged for Polly's hand. She gaped when her hands clutched nothing but air. Her friend had twirled out of reach and held the phone like a trophy.

Grinning mischievously, Polly answered the phone. "Hi, you have reached the mailbox of—"

A low voice interrupted, "If you wanted to be a robot, try taking classes first. You sound like fucking Barbie."

Piper struggled with a snort as Polly's face registered sheer shock and insult. Treating her phone like a grenade with a loose pin, she carefully tugged it from limp hands, and placed it to her ear. "Hey," she said.

She heard a husky laugh that shot straight to her loins, "Hey. Who was that?"

Piper looked at Polly, who now sat on the couch, her face aloof. "It was Polly."

"Oh, shit. Is she going to fire you from Le Grand Fromage?"

Piper chuckled, "No, she won't. Don't worry about it. She has a sense of humour." Affectionately, she nudged the woman in question, who flipped up her middle finger in her direction.

Another laugh, "Right. So, what're you doing Saturday night?"

Piper flipped through her mental calendar, "Nothing. Why?"

"I'm having a house party. The business is going well, and one of my friends wanted to throw a party in celebration. As the person who led them to such brilliant success, I took it upon myself to host one. I would really, really enjoy it if you were with me."

Piper was already planning a shopping spree. "Are you kidding? Of course!"

"Great. Good. I'll see you then. Oh, and bring Polly along. I think it'd be nice to meet her and...make amends."

"Are you planning to be the Ken to her Barbie?" Piper teased.

"Why would I want to do that when I could be the Shrek to your Princess Fiona?"

"Aww," Piper cooed, giggling. "We're ogres. That's so cute."

Polly murmured, "I'm gonna throw up."

Piper's laughter died down as she remembered what else nearly made her threw up. She glanced at the door, down at the paper bag and her poor, bullied boots. She was about to tell Alex about the whole ordeal, but decided against it when defiance surfaced through the disgust. She wasn't a kid running to her mother, she thought. She didn't need to hide. She was a strong, independent woman who don't need no other woman.

"I have to go," Alex told her. "My other phone's ringing."

"Okay."

"I'll see you—oh, and bring a bag. An overnight bag. You're staying for the weekend."

A soft smile bloomed. "Am I?"

"You are. So, Saturday?"

Her eyes still on her front porch, Piper nodded. "Mm-hmm. See you on Saturday."

"Your girlfriend's a jerk," Polly stated when the call was dropped.

Piper bit her lip to stop the grin, "She just needs some getting used to."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Polly didn't need to specify what she was talking about. They were both looking towards the door as they eyed the smeared poop—which remained unidentified if animal or human.

"Because I see no point in it. She'll just get mad and worry that the crazy's going to do something again."

"And what if she does?"

"Then I'll deal with it," Piper claimed. "I can take her on. No problem. I know a fighting move that nobody else does."

Polly snickered, "What's that?"

The blonde looked at her, a sly smile. "An ancient technique called kick-ass."