Piper removed her sopping wet dress and opted for a pair of white linen pants and a black tank top with spaghetti straps. She towel dried her hair, wiped her face with a washcloth, and then went down to the bar at 1:08 a.m., this time, remembering to put on lip gloss.

She casually walked inside, looking at her iPhone as she approached the bar. When she looked up, the bar was empty, except for the bartender and two couples seated in the armchairs near a window.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked.

Piper scanned the room again, and Alex was nowhere to be found. "Oh, I'm…I was just looking for someone, thanks."

She exhaled loudly as the bartender walked away. Oh, well, she thought. Maybe she'd misunderstood—perhaps Alex hadn't meant that they should meet in the Library Bar; maybe she'd meant that she would have a nightcap somewhere else. Piper thought for a second that she should order a Baileys and wait to see if the mysterious brunette showed up, but then she thought better of it.

She headed back upstairs and paused outside of the bank of elevators, where they'd met a few hours earlier. The wheels in her head began turning, and she realized that meant Alex was on the same floor. Piper recalled the dark haired woman charging the drinks to her room…Room 1216. Did she have the balls to knock on her door? What if that wasn't Alex's room, and she ended up disturbing a slumbering guest?

Piper passed room 1212, 1214 and then came to 1216. She stopped outside the door and listened carefully. She heard a television broadcaster and maybe a zipper on a large bag or suitcase. Before she had time to devise a plan, she found herself tapping lightly on the door.

"Who's there?" came a female voice.

"Alex?" she asked tentatively.

The door opened just a tad, but it was stopped by the chain lock. She saw Alex peek through the opening.

"Piper?" the brunette shut the door and unhooked the chain before opening it fully. "What are you doing here?"

She brushed her damp hair across her forehead and shifted her weight nervously to the other leg. "I…um…I was in the mood for a nightcap."

The other woman smirked. "And you thought you'd find one up here?"

She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, hoping to raise her level of banter. "The bar is completely out of after dinner drinks. No cordials, no Port, no anything."

"Is that right?" Alex gave her a full, toothy smile. "Well, I might have something you can sip on." She moved to her right, opening her arm for Piper to enter the room. "Come in."

Piper hesitantly stepped inside and looked around. There was a large suitcase on the floor, and a garment bag hanging in the closet. The bed was unmade and there was an open book turned upside down on the comforter. Alex's eyeglasses were on the bed side table next to a glass of wine.

"Party's over?" the brunette asked, shutting the door and walking over to retrieve her glasses.

"Yeah," she half-lied. "We've been at it for three days. Besides, everyone is flying out early tomorrow morning."

Alex eyed her up and down. "What time's your flight?"

"I don't leave until like 1 or 2," she said, noticing the dark haired woman's attire: floral pajama shorts and a purple tank top. The innocence of the pattern on her shorts was in stark contrast to the brunette's dark hair and outrageously curvy body.

"I hate to tell you this, Piper, but you're probably not flying out tomorrow." She grabbed the remote and turned the volume on the TV louder.

The weatherman was talking about sustained winds of 100 miles per hour as the graphic showed four possible paths of Hurricane Jackie, all of which pointed to within 90 miles of New Orleans.

"I didn't realize it was that close," Piper admitted, taking a step closer to the television.

"Apparently the worst of it will happen around one o'clock tomorrow, or today for that matter." She looked at Piper. "But I highly doubt Bourbon Street closes for hurricanes unless it's one that really packs a punch."

She looked uneasily at the other woman. "And this one doesn't?"

Alex shrugged. "Compared to other storms, this one is minor, but it's enough to close the roads and the airport for up to 24 hours. At least that's what they're saying on the news."

Piper unconsciously plopped onto Alex's bed.

"Make yourself at home." She grinned.

The blonde immediately stood. "Sorry, I was just…I had no idea that the storm was that close or that severe."

The dark haired woman took a step towards her. "What did I say about apologies?"

She swallowed hard and looked up. "Right."

The women were mere inches apart, and Piper could feel her heart beating so fast that it seemed like Alex could see her chest pounding.

"About that nightcap…" the brunette trailed.

Piper raised her eyes expectantly.

"I want to take you somewhere," she said, "that is, if you're up for a little adventure."

Alex could have said, I'll take you to Jupiter or Shanghai or to hell and back, and Piper would've agreed.

"Ok," she whispered.

The dark haired woman smiled. "I need to change clothes and freshen up."

She nodded.

"Meet me in the lobby in 15 minutes."

Again, Piper nodded as if she was under this woman's spell. "Fifteen minutes, ok."

Alex gently shoved her companion towards the door, and without that assistance, Piper might've been rooted in that spot for hours, just staring at the other woman. The cool breeze in the hallway brought her back to full consciousness, and Piper realized that she needed to go back to her room to collect herself.

Once in her hotel room, the blonde snapped back to reality as she stared at herself in the mirror. What in the hell was she doing? There was a hurricane approaching New Orleans, and she'd just agreed to go on an adventure with a woman she'd met just a few hours ago.

If she didn't leave soon, she'd get cold feet. Plus, Piper knew that Polly and her friends would be back in the room and ready to crash. She took three deep breaths before straightening her hair with her fingers, dabbing some gloss on her lips, and heading out the door.

The blonde waited five minutes in the lobby before losing her courage. Just as she was about to retreat to her room, the brunette stepped out of the elevator.

Piper smiled, glad she stayed if only to see Alex in a short, black linen dress. "Hey."

"Hey." She smiled back. "Come with me."

Alex said something to the valet, and 60 seconds later, a Lincoln Town Car drove up. The brunette handed him a couple of dollars, and allowed Piper to get into the backseat first. This time, the blonde was able to get a good whiff of Alex—she smelled like an entire Aveda store, but Piper couldn't identify a singular herbaceous scent other than mint.

"Where are you taking me?"

"A place called Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop," she replied. "It's supposedly the oldest bar in the United States."

"Really?"

Alex nodded. "I think it only closed once in, like, two hundred years, and that was during Hurricane Katrina, so I'm sure it'll be open tonight."

"Doesn't look like any place is closed," Piper commented as she gazed out the window at the revelers frolicking in the streets.

The car stopped on St. Phillip Street, and the driver opened the door. A gust of wind made Piper lose her balance, and she grabbed Alex's arms to steady herself. "Whoa!"

"You ok?" Alex asked, holding onto the blonde's forearms.

"Yeah, let's get inside."

They walked briskly into the old bar, which was mostly empty. The place was dimly lit with votive candles and recessed lighting. There was an elderly woman playing the piano and a young bartender pulling a beer tap.

The brunette took Piper's wrist and led her to a table near the fireplace, which wasn't lit, but instead was filled with three thick, burning candles.

A cocktail waitress approached them for their drink order.

"Do you have any Port or Madeira?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, we have Fonseca Bin 27 and Graham's Six Grapes," she said.

Alex turned to the blonde. "Do you drink Port?"

"Not regularly, but I like it," she responded.

Piper liked the way the dark haired woman treated her when it came to ordering back at the Library Bar and now at Lafitte's. Alex wasn't opinionated or forceful; she seemed certain and knowledgeable, but also genuinely curious about her companion's taste.

The brunette looked up at the server. "We'll have a glass of each."

"So, Piper, you like to apologize, you're here for a bachelorette party, and you have an aversion to whiskey," Alex commented with a smirk. "What else do I need to know about you?"

She looked away, trying to hide her blush, which she was certain wasn't lost on Alex. "My last name is Chapman."

"Piper Chapman," she stated. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I graduated from Smith four years ago, I live in Manhattan, I'm starting my own business with Polly, and I wait tables."

The waitress delivered their drinks, and Alex seamlessly handed her credit card over.

Piper was going to protest, but she could sense that there was no use—Alex's smoothness was something to behold.

"Your own business? What are you selling?" she asked, focusing her attention back on the blonde.

"Soaps and lotions," Piper announced. "We haven't gotten it off the ground yet, but we'll probably be ready to launch by the end of the year."

Alex lifted her glass for a toast. "Cheers to that."

The blonde tapped her glass against Alex's. "Cheers."

"Mmm, this isn't bad," Alex commented. "Wanna taste?"

God, yes, Piper thought. I want my lips to be where your lips were. I want to taste what you taste like.

Instead of voicing her innermost thoughts, she settled for a "Sure," and slid her own glass to her companion so that she could sample the other Port.

The blonde took a small sip and closed her eyes, trying to distinguish which part tasted like Alex and which part was the sweet alcohol. "I like yours better."

"Have it. I'll drink this one," Alex offered. "So, you live in New York?"

"Polly and I are roommates." She nodded. "We have a place in the West Village."

The brunette lifted her eyebrows and grinned. "So do I."

She leaned forward. "No way!"

"Yeah," Alex said, adjusting her glasses. "I'm not there very often, but I bought a loft about a year ago in this little nook where Hudson meets Barrow."

Piper creased her forehead. "I don't know Barrow; we're on Bleeker and West 11th."

"That's like two miles from me," Alex chuckled. "We'll have to get together some time when I'm in the city."

"I'd like that," she commented after a long sip of Port.

They spent the next hour chatting non-stop, each taking turns talking about her life. Piper was fascinated by Alex's life and all of her international travel. She'd almost forgotten the reason behind the brunette's travel had to do with her position in a drug cartel. Truth be told, that didn't matter to Piper in the moment—Alex could've been a convicted felon and Piper would've still been captivated by her.

The wind howled outside, and as Piper looked out of the window, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number. "I have to take this."

"Where the fuck are you?" Polly yelled.

"I couldn't sleep," she lied.

Alex pretended to focus on the piano player, but Piper could sense that she was listening.

"That doesn't answer my question," Polly replied.

"I, um…I went out for a nightcap…with Alex," she tried.

"Who in the hell is Alex?" the brunette asked.

"The woman I met at the hotel bar," Piper whispered.

She considered stepping away from the table to have a private conversation with her best friend, but her legs betrayed her.

She sensed Polly covering her face with her hands. "Pipes, there's a hurricane, barreling down on the city. We need to get to the airport in, like, three hours, and you need to try to get on my flight."

"I'll call the airline," she offered. "And I'll be back to the room soon."

The women ended the phone call, and Piper looked at her companion with worry. "Polly's worried about our flights."

"She should be," Alex stated. "You should probably get in touch with the airline to see if your flight has been cancelled." She pulled out her iPhone. "Who are you flying?"

"American, why?"

"I'm Executive Platinum on American and have a special number to call," she replied, dialing the number for the blonde, and then handing her the phone.

"Thank you," Piper said, thoroughly impressed by the woman across from her.

The blonde was informed by the American agent that her flight was indeed cancelled, at which point, Piper gave him an earful about the lack of notification. He told her that automated calls would begin at 5 a.m. and advised her to go to the airport as early as possible to try to get on a different flight.

"I guess I'll try to fly standby on Polly's flight, and if that doesn't work out, the rest of the girls are flying, like, an hour later on Jet Blue."

Alex drained her Port. "I should get you back, then."

Piper's heart sunk as if she'd been given grave news. Little did she know what kind of effect the dark haired woman would have on her.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best." She doubted that she could keep the disappointment out of her tone.

The brunette dialed a number again, this time for the car service. "The driver will be here in ten minutes."

Piper tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I went to the Library Bar, you know."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, that's where we met. Well, technically we met in the elevator."

"No, I mean at one this morning." She lowered her head. "I went to the bar to look for you. I thought you'd wanted to meet me there."

"I did." Piper looked up to see Alex's raised brows. "I read down there from, like 12:30 to 1, hoping that you'd show up."

"I was there, and you certainly were not," Piper replied.

The brunette grabbed her hand, and the touch sent shivers throughout her body. "What was the exact time you were there?"

Piper remembered looking at her phone as she entered the bar. "I think it was 1:08."

"I left at 1:05," she said with a small grin. "We probably passed each other in opposite elevators."

The blonde flushed.

She brushed her thumb across the back of Piper's hand and leaned forward. "I wanted to see you again, Piper."

The women stared at each other, and Piper could recognize the desire in Alex's eyes. She wondered if her companion could see the same thing in hers. They were interrupted when Alex's phone vibrated, indicating that the Town Car had arrived.

"We should get going." The brunette squeezed her hand, and then stood. "Get in the car, and I'll settle the bill."

Piper nodded, regretting the lost contact already.

They didn't touch on the car ride home, and Piper's hands literally itched at the lack of contact. How had this woman had such a profound effect on her in such a short period of time?

The women walked into the lobby and towards the bank of elevators.

"Tonight was…" Piper shook her head, worried about the wrong words spilling out and changed direction. "It was really nice meeting you, Alex."

"It was nice meeting you, too," the brunette replied with a tight lipped smile. "Give me your number." She pressed the elevator call button. "I meant it when I said that I'd like to get together in Manhattan."

Piper dug in her purse for her newly printed Popi business card. Once she found it, she handed it to her companion. Their fingers touched, and Piper's breath hitched. If a simple touch felt like that, what would it feel like to kiss Alex?

"When will you be home?" She was thankful that she wasn't rendered speechless.

They stepped inside the elevator, and Alex hit the button for the 12th floor.

"Some time after Labor Day," she offered with a small sigh. "I'll call you."

The doors opened, and both women stepped out.

Piper hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "My room's that way."

"I'm the opposite way, but I guess you already knew that." She grinned. "Be careful in this weather and have a safe flight—if you get one."

Alex leaned in for a hug and placed a quick kiss on her cheek; Piper eagerly wrapped her arms around the taller woman's waist. She rested her head on the brunette's chest, taking in a long breath of her. It was definitely mint and grass and other scents of summertime. Piper wondered if Alex bathed in Aveda products, which brought her mind to bathing with Alex, which is what caused her to pull away.

"Thanks, you, too," she said as she let go.

"Good night, Piper," Alex whispered.

The blonde waved. "Good night."

Piper didn't get even an hour of sleep before she had to get out of bed and head to the airport with the bachelorette crew. The weather had intensified, and every television and radio broadcast was focused on the storm and blaring throughout the hotel, in the cab and at the airport.

The blonde chatted with an American Airlines agent for 20 minutes and left with little hope that she'd make it out of New Orleans that day. She was on standby for two flights, but her lack of status with American had her name towards the bottom of the 30-person list.

There was a part of her that wanted to stay in New Orleans for one more night with Alex. There was so much she didn't know about the other woman, and she felt like she'd been a part of a cliffhanger ending to a television series and would have to wait nine months for it to air again to see what happened next. As time ticked by, that part of her grew exponentially, but she didn't let on.

"So what's with this Alex woman?" Polly asked as the final boarding group for her flight was called.

"She's just someone I met and connected with." Piper shrugged and tried to act nonchalant.

Her friend eyed her. "You went back to the hotel to meet her last night, didn't you?"

Piper blushed, knowing her friend could read her like a book. "I really like her, Pol," she admitted with desperate eyes.

"Ungh!" Polly rolled her eyes. "You'll probably never see her again."

"She lives in the West Village," she replied with some amount of jubilation. "But she travels a lot."

"That's a happy coincidence for you." Polly stood and lifted her heavy bag over a shoulder.

The airline agent had called four names off the standby list, but Piper's name was third to last on the monitor hanging above the gate.

"I'm not getting on this flight, am I?" she sighed.

Polly gave her a sad smile. "Probably not."

"After you board, I guess I'll go to Veronica and Kori's gate to see if I can get on their flight."

The brunette stepped into line behind a family with three young kids. "That's not what you want to do, is it?"

She creased her brow. "What do you mean?"

"You secretly don't want to get on any flight today," Polly said with a slight laugh. "I know you, Pipes. You want to go back to that hotel as fast as humanly possible and fuck Alex's brains out."

"Polly!" She gasped and slapped her friend on the arm.

The father of the young family gave Polly an evil glare.

"Sorry, I'm from New York; I can't help it," her friend said to the man. She turned to face Piper and placed a hand on her shoulder. "If you felt a connection with Alex, you should see where that leads. I'll put a thousand dollars that a king sized bed is in your immediate future, but maybe it's more than that this time. You owe it to yourself to figure that out."

Piper smiled quickly at her friend, but she was confident trepidation took over her expression. "I might be making a huge mistake, but I desperately want to see her again, Polly."

"Then go." The woman shrugged. "You're probably not getting out of here today anyway."

Piper hugged the hell out of her friend, and then kissed her on the cheek. "Have a safe flight. I'll call you later."

"Sounds good." Polly smiled.

Ignoring the Wet Floor sign just outside of Polly's gate, Piper jogged past the newsstand with her luggage trailing behind her. She couldn't fool herself any longer—there was no way in hell she was leaving New Orleans that day, and it had nothing to do with a seat on a plane.