Disclaimer: I don't own PLL in any manner, shape or form. I'm only borrowing the characters for a little while to play with them.

Hi everyone. Well I'm finally back with the sequel to Ali's Nightmare Before Christmas.

Thanks for all your patience and your gentle and sometimes not so gentle nudges and inquiries of when I'd finally start posting. It means so much that you're as eager to read this as I am to finally post it. It took longer to write than I anticipated… what can I say? Life and lack of inspiration due to the how out of whack the show seems to have gone are to blame.

I'll have another short author's note at the end as well as a translation of the few French lines of dialogue. That won't be the norm for this story, just for this introductory chapter…. and then only periodically here and there as necessary.

Enjoy reading and leave a review if you are so inclined…. it really does make my day to hear what you think… both good and bad.

Breathe Again

Alison closed the front door behind her and dropped her camera bag onto the floor beside the welcome mat. She rolled her shoulders and her neck cracked as she felt all the stress of the day still weighing heavily on her.

Pepe came bounding up to her, barking once before he head butted her in the groin. She crouched down so she could wrap her arms around him and he started licking her face excitedly.

"Ew, Pepe," she chuckled as she rubbed his head vigorously. Coming home to him always made her feel better. The dog head butted her shoulder causing her to lose her balance and fall back on her ass. He plopped his entire body onto her jean clad thighs and rolled to his side so she could rub his belly. This was his standard greeting and it always made her grin. "Did you miss me, boy?"

Alison spent the next several minutes making up for neglecting the dog recently. One out of town shoot and back to back in-town shoots for the last nine days straight barely gave her enough time to sleep, never mind spend time with her best friend.

It was getting ridiculous trying to handle these photo shoots herself. She needed to find another assistant. It was her own fault she was on her own though. In hindsight, fucking her assistant probably wasn't the best decision. It seemed like every time she did, it blew up in her face. She really needed to keep work and personal separate but she spent almost all her time working, not having much else in her life.

"I'm sorry I've neglected you, baby," Alison cooed but Pepe didn't respond, he just let his tongue loll out the side of his mouth as he wiggled on her lap.

Alison looked at her watch. It was still early enough for her and Pepe to take the walk they'd missed this morning because her shoot started at sunrise.

"You wanna go for a walk before dinner?" she asked as she pushed him off her legs.

Alison picked up her camera bag and dropped it on the bottom stair leading to the second floor before she walked into the kitchen to get Pepe's leash. Pepe sat at the front door patiently as Alison grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before walking back through the living room She clipped Pepe's leash to his collar before they exited the house.

It was only a three block walk to Ocean Avenue and then five blocks north to the Santa Monica Pier. When she'd finally settled in LA almost three years ago, she wanted a place right on the beach. Unfortunately it was just a little too pricey. She found a cute townhouse condo in her price range a few blocks inland and she bought it without a second thought.

On her days off she and Pepe always took a long walk up to Santa Monica State Beach and the pier, but they weren't going that far today. Sunset was fast approaching and Alison didn't have the energy or the inclination to make the trek. But the park wasn't far and Pepe had been cooped up all day so he deserved some time out in the fresh air.

As Pepe trotted along beside her, the two block walk to the park was just what Alison needed as well. Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her back pocket.

"Hey Nicole, what's up?" she asked as she answered. The woman on the other end spoke quickly and frantically. "Whoa, slow down and tell me what's going on." Alison listened to Nicole for another minute before she sighed. "He's gone though, right?" After a beat. "No, don't call the police. I'll be there soon."

###############

Emily pulled her phone out of her back pocket and looked at the screen. She smiled when she saw the familiar blonde's face announcing who was calling. She lifted her phone to her ear.

"Hey, Han."

"Bonjour," Hanna said cheerily and Emily snickered softly.

"Why are you greeting me in French?" the brunette asked as her eyes once again lifted to the flat screen that listed all the arriving flights. She pushed off the edge of the banister when the she saw the flight she was waiting for pop up on the screen.

"Because you're French now, aren't you?" Hanna replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "You have a fancy French pastry degree, a French girlfriend, a new job at a fancy French Brassiere," Hanna rolled her tongue on the last word in a very poor imitation of a French accent.

"That's the worst French accent I've ever heard, Hanna," Emily laughed and shook her head. Damn she'd missed the blonde these past few years.

"Pfft," Hanna scoffed into her ear. "France has turned you into a snob, Emily Fields."

Emily laughed again as she started walking toward the customs' area next to baggage claim. "And Chez Pierre isn't a brasserie. A brasserie is a casual bistro style restaurant. Chez Pierre est un restaurant chic et élégant."

"You're in the US again so you wanna speak the language please," Hanna requested sarcastically.

"English isn't the official language of the US, Hanna."

"Whatever, snob," Emily could practically hear Hanna rolling her eyes. "I don't care where you've been or where you work or who you're fucking. I'm just glad you're back in the good old US of A."

"Me too, Han," Emily admitted honestly. Although she loved living in Paris for the past five years, she was glad to be back. "And by the way what I said was Chez Pierre is chic and elegant French dining."

"How do you say snob in francais?"

"I've missed you so much, Hanna," Emily chuckled as she weaved her way through the arriving passengers. She knew it would be a few minutes at least before the Air France flight disembarked and cleared through customs but she was very eager to see one particular arriving passenger.

"If you really missed me you wouldn't have gotten a job all the way in California. Why couldn't you come to New York?" Hanna pouted into her ear.

"Because I wasn't offered a job in New York." Emily leaned casually against the wall so she had a clear view of the customs' exit.

"You didn't even try to get one," Hanna accused.

"Hanna, I'm going to be working under one of the world's most renowned master pâtissiers. This is a dream job for me."

"I just miss you." Emily could hear the sincerity in her friend's voice and she smiled.

"You'll just have to come out and visit then."

"Don't you worry, I will." Hanna paused for a second before she spoke again and Emily could tell from her tone she was grinning. "I need to finally meet your little French tart in person."

"I told you to stop calling her that," Emily warned as she frowned softly.

None of her old friends had met Marielle yet, although Hanna had both seen and spoken to her a handful of times when she and Emily FaceTimed. Her parents hadn't even met the girl she'd been dating for two years and with whom she was now going to be living.

"I'm just teasing you, lighten up Em. What's wrong with a French tart? Even she thinks it's funny when I call her that."

Emily smiled slyly. "I make French tarts for a living, Han. Trust me; Mari is much sweeter than they are."

"France has turned you into a naughty girl, Emily Fields," Hanna purred in response. "I kinda love that."

"Shut up, Hanna," Emily choked out a short laugh. Despite the fact that it had been a long time since the topic of sex embarrassed her, and she was the one who started the innuendo, the brunette could still feel the soft blush creeping up her cheeks.

Emily was completely comfortable with herself and her sexuality, had been for many years, but she preferred to keep that part of her life private, in her bedroom; unlike Hanna who said exactly what came into her mind at any given moment no matter where she was or if it was appropriate or not. The brunette was glad Hanna was only in her ear and not in her presence because she was sure her blond friend would deliberately try to embarrass her if she saw even the hint of pink in Emily's cheeks.

"When does she arrive from Paris?" Hanna asked.

"I'm at LAX picking her up now. And please stop with the exaggerated French accent already. It really is terrible."

Emily glanced out the window to her right. The sun was just starting to set and she and Marielle were going to hit rush hour traffic for sure. If there was one thing Emily didn't like about LA it was the traffic.

"Ohhh, no wonder you're so testy. Little Emily hasn't gotten laid for a while."

"I'm going to hang up on you Hanna," Emily scowled into the phone because the blonde was right, although Emily would never admit that to her. She'd been in LA for almost a month, having arrived ahead of Marielle, who had to finish the design job she was working on before she could join her girlfriend. Emily's job started a week ago and she had just secured them an apartment the previous weekend.

"Go ahead and try it, bitch, and I'll text you naked pictures of myself and get you in trouble with your girl," Hanna warned and Emily knew from her tone she was only half joking.

"Did I say I missed you a few minutes ago? Never mind I take it back."

"Did you find an apartment yet?" Hanna asked, conveniently ignoring Emily's words.

"Yeah. I just moved in two days ago."

"Is it near where you work?"

"Oh man, I lucked out, Han," Emily replied excitedly. "It's only about six blocks away. I'm gonna get a bike and save tons on gas."

"Aren't elegant and chic French restaurants usually only open for dinner?" Hanna asked. "You shouldn't be riding around on a bike late at night Em."

"Thanks for your concern, mom, but I'm a big girl." Emily looked at the time on her phone. What was taking Marielle so long to clear customs? "Besides the restaurant closes at nine thirty most nights and I'll usually be working during the day. Most of the patisserie is prepared in advance."

"God it makes me tingle when you say that word," Hanna purred again and Emily snorted.

A slew of people started to pour out of customs again and Emily hoped they were the passengers from France. A flash of blonde hair to her right caught Emily's eye and she turned her head. Even after all these years she could never resist checking to see if it was her.

A blonde was walking toward the escalator leading to security. Her arm was tucked through a dark haired man's as she walked beside him. Emily's breath caught in her throat. For years she thought she saw Alison everywhere. Emily searched for the blonde for months, going as far as Paris on a whim, on the slight chance that she'd be there. She even hired a private investigator recommended by Spencer, but after almost a year, Emily finally had to accept Alison didn't want to be found.

It still took a couple of years for Emily to stop trying to find her first love in every blonde she encountered but it still happened every once in a while. Times like these, when she was sure the walk was the same, the curve of her hips was the same and the long blonde tresses fell just the right way.

Instinctively Emily pushed off the wall and started toward the escalator. She couldn't see the blonde's face but something compelled her to follow.

"Hanna, I have to go," Emily said distracted now.

"Awww, okay," Hanna pouted. "Give your girl a big kiss from me and tell her I'll be invading your love nest soon."

Emily weaved through the throngs of people. Why was LAX so fucking busy all the time?

"Sure thing. I'll call you this weekend, okay."

The blonde and her dark haired male companion stopped at the bottom of the escalator and handed their tickets and passports to the security guard at the bottom.

"Au revoir," Hanna chimed in her ear and Emily shook her head again.

"Goodbye, Hanna."

Emily ended the call just before bumping into a man crossing her path. "Oh, I'm sorry," she mumbled but kept going, drawing closer to the blonde. Panic flooded her system because if she didn't reach the blonde before the security guard finished reviewing her passport, she'd be inside security and Emily would have no way to find out if it was Alison.

Just as she was about to barrel over an elderly couple, the blonde turned in her direction, stopping Emily in her tracks. Her eyes met Emily's for a brief moment and she smiled and Emily's stomach dropped, disappointment flooding her.

She stumbled backwards and her back hit the glass window behind her.

What the fuck was she doing? She had a girlfriend who loved her and who had moved halfway across the world to be with her. So why was she once again chasing after an unknown blonde she thought might be Alison?

"Emily?" the brunette heard her name being called from her left and she looked up.

Her lips curved at the sight of the beautiful brunette walking toward her. Her long hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the back of her head and her stark green eyes were bright as she smiled. She was long and lean and even in flats she was slightly taller than Emily. And as always just the sight of her made Emily smile, despite the knot of guilt resting in her gut.

Emily moved forward and Marielle walked straight into her arms, hugging the brunette fiercely. Her girlfriend's hugs were like no other Emily had ever experienced. Marielle hugged with her entire body and it left no question that hugging you was exactly what she wanted to be doing.

"I've missed you, mon cherie" she murmured against the skin of Emily's neck.

"I've missed you too, Mar," Emily responded as she held onto her girlfriend just as tight.

Marielle turned her head and kissed Emily's ear before pulling back, releasing Emily from her arms. She pressed her lips to Emily's and Emily lost herself in the soft kiss, letting the memory of the blonde she'd been following only moments earlier fade away.

"I'm so happy you're here," Emily said honestly once the kiss ended.

Marielle grinned and grabbed Emily's hand as she pressed against her side before tugging her towards the turnstile. "Me too, mon amour. I'm sorry I wasn't able to get here sooner."

Emily lifted Marielle's hand to her lips. "It's okay. Did you get everything finalized before you left?"

They stopped in front of the turnstile to wait for the luggage to appear.

"Yes. I'm ready to start our new adventure here in your country. I can't wait to start à décorer notre appartement." Marielle smiled as she kissed Emily's cheek. "Our first home together."

Emily chuckled and squeezed Marielle's fingers. Her girlfriend loved to mix French and English when she spoke. "Well don't get too excited just yet. It needs a lot of work. I haven't had much time to find any furniture so all we have is a bed."

"Mmmm," Marielle purred softly. "What more do we need?"

Emily chuckled and leaned down to kiss her girlfriend softly so very glad she was finally here.

###########

Alison held the black and white photo at eye level, her sore shoulder not allowing her to lift it above her head as she looked at it in the muted red light. She smiled at the sight of Pepe running along the surf, with the sun and the Santa Monica Pier behind him.

She'd taken the photos on their walk the previous morning. Hanging out at the beach was one of their favorite things to. Well he loved to run in the sand and surf and she liked to take pictures of him doing it.

As a professional photographer, Alison almost always used a digital camera for her work. Digital had many advantages and made her job much easier by instantly being able to view the photographs as she was taking them, and then being able to manipulate the images in a computer.

But for her personal photos, her preference was old fashioned black and white still film. It was the way she learned photography, the way her father had taught her when she was a child. There was just something authentic about it; the process of developing, the smell of the chemicals and the clarity of the images that made Alison prefer it. She liked film because it was less forgiving than digital capture and lack of forgiveness was a constant theme in her life. It was twisted, she knew, but then again there were a lot of people who would say she was too.

Alison preferred black and white over color because of the shadows that seemed to conceal the secrets of the subject. Alison had always liked secrets and although secrets were what ultimately resulted in her downfall, she still couldn't help the allure of them for her. She tried, these days, not to keep secrets, at least from those closest to her, but old habits die hard. She'd come a long way in the last six years but she was who she was.

Alison flipped the switch on the wall and the room was flooded with light. She carefully and slowly stretched her arm up and clipped the last photo to the drying line and then started cleaning up. She could hear Pepe whimpering outside the door so she hurried, knowing she'd again neglected him far too long tonight.

"I'm coming Pepe," she said loud enough for the dog to hear. He barked in return making Alison chuckle. He sure did like to mouth off to her. She didn't put up with that from just anyone, but Pepe got away with more than anyone else in her life, human or animal.

Alison exited the darkroom, closing the door behind her as Pepe head butted her, making his displeasure known.

"You really are needy in your old age," Alison said as she rubbed his ears. He barked at her again and then followed her into her bedroom.

It was almost midnight and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was fall into bed but she felt grimy from her long day, especially after it ended, first with her chasing Pepe around the park for almost an hour and then having to go to Venice. So she really needed a shower and some Advil and a good night's sleep.

Alison walked into the adjoining bathroom and stripped out of her clothes before stepping into shower, closing the glass door behind her. She heard Pepe bark. She laughed when she looked over to find him pressing his nose to the other side of the glass.

"I draw the line at letting you shower with me, Pepe," the blond chuckled as she tilted her head back into the stream of water.

Pepe barked again and then settled on the rug in front of the shower door. Alison let the last of the stress of the day wash away with the water. It had been a successful shoot overall, despite Michelle, the fashion editor, breathing down her neck most of the day. Alison did not do well with anyone getting in her space, especially when she was working. Fortunately Michelle knew Alison's personality by now well enough to know when to back off.

Alison was happy with the photographs she took and she planned to spend the next day or two sorting through them, manipulating them and cleaning them up before meeting with Michelle again on Wednesday morning.

She'd fallen into fashion photography by chance. She had been working as a freelance travel photographer, falling into that also by chance when an editor for Condé Nast Traveler magazine saw her pictures on her laptop in a café in Monte Carlo. He commented on her sharp eye and offered to buy several of the photographs, on the spot, for an upcoming issue. Although Alison didn't typically talk to strangers, there was something about the older man that reminded her of her father.

Several months later one of the fashion editors of Vogue, another magazine in the Condé Nast family, saw her pictures and hired her for a series of fashion shoots. She was introduced to the Chairman of the company at a charity fundraiser and she now floated among many of their magazines, photographing people, places and things, whatever the shoot called for. In the last several years, she'd done photo shoots for almost every publication in the Condé Nast family.

She loved what she did and the freedom it provided her. She only took the assignments she wanted to, working when she wanted, taking time off when she didn't. She still periodically traveled, although more of her work was in LA these days, and that suited her just fine. She never liked leaving Pepe when she was traveling, taking him with her whenever she was going to be gone for an extended period of time. But as the dog got older and a little more ornery, she was content to stay home, finally feeling like she'd found a place she wanted to call home after so long. So she chose most of her assignments these days to remain in and around Los Angeles.

Alison shut off the water and grabbed a towel off the warming rack, wrapping it around her body. She practically tripped over Pepe when he didn't even flinch as she stepped out of the shower.

"Jeez, get out of the way, will ya?" she scolded the dog, who stood up and stretched slowly, not even fazed by the reprimand.

Pepe strolled back into the bedroom as Alison brushed her teeth and because she was so sore she elected to just tie her hair into a loose knot on the top of her head. She examined the large bruises forming on her shoulder and right side and sighed before swallowing back two Advil. She walked into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of boxer shorts that had once belonged to Jack and a blue tank top she'd stolen from Emily's house right after she'd returned to Rosewood. It was old and ratty now, and it had a small hole just beneath her right boob, but she always wore it to bed.

Always.

It was the only thing she had of the brunette's and it was priceless to her. She would wear it until it was in rags.

Alison slowly ran her fingers over the spot just above her left breast, shivering softly as she felt the scar that still resided there. She touched it every night, as a reminder of what she'd gone through and that she was alive.

Alison climbed into bed next to Pepe, who was already in his spot on the right side on top of the duvet. She shook her head.

"No wonder none of my relationships last," she said to him as she stroked his side.

The few times she'd had overnight "guests" Pepe had made his displeasure known that his side of the bed was occupied. From barking and growling to once even peeing on the occupant, Alison soon realized that having sleepovers were not the best idea. Not that she did it often. Her bedroom was her sanctuary, the place she felt the safest and the place she let very few people enter.

Alison reached over to turn off the light, her eyes stopping on the framed photograph resting on the night table. She picked it up and looked at the faces smiling back at her. One was her own. The other was the brunette who still held her heart. The picture was taken the night Mrs. Fields had the girls over for dinner. It was just her and Emily, before Hanna arrived and started in with her passive aggressive attack at the table.

They were both smiling at the camera with their arms around each other's waist. Emily had gently rubbed her fingers against the small of her back and Alison could swear she still felt the ghost of that touch sometimes. That was one of the last times Emily had touched her before everything blew up. Before Emily turned her back on her after the whole Cyrus debacle and Mona's murder and then... Courtney.

Thinking about her sister still, even after all these years, made it hard for Alison to breathe. For years she relived that night over and over until Cece finally dragged her ass to a shrink. Alison fought it every step of the way. She didn't want to sit on a couch and tell her life story with all it's fucked up drama to a total stranger. What good would it do? Her sister was dead. She was broken beyond repair. And she'd lost the one person who meant everything to her.

But the woman had been persistent, even though Alison was a bitch of epic proportions. She had eventually opened up and once the dam had broken it was like a tidal wave. Alison didn't think she had ever raged and screamed and cried that much in her life. She relived every frightening and heartbreaking second of that night and the two years she was alone on the streets. But when it was over, when her eyes were almost swollen shut, when her voice was raw, and she was too weak to stand; that's when she felt she might just have a chance to heal all the broken pieces inside her.

That was over two years ago and she was still on the journey, still a long way, she knew, from truly finding peace. But every day it seemed like she was getting closer.

Then every night Alison would look at the picture of her and Emily and one of those partially healed pieces shattered again. Not having the brunette in her life left an emptiness that no one else had ever been able to fill and a dull ache that never seemed to go away.

"Night, Em," Alison said softly as she gently caressed Emily's face before setting the picture back on the table. Then she rubbed her scar again before she turned off the light and slid under the covers.

She carefully rolled onto her side and reached over, slipping her fingers through Pepe's fur, gripping it gently as she both felt and heard soft snores coming from beside her.

###############

Emily fastened her hair in a knot behind her head before glancing at the small clock on the bathroom counter. It was just after two thirty. It only took her ten minutes to bike to work but she liked to get there fifteen minutes early so she could freshen up and change into her chef's uniform. The restaurant had all the uniforms freshly laundered each morning so she always wore her own clothes to work and changed once she arrived, changing, again, back into her clothes at the end of her shift.

She absolutely loved her job. If anyone had asked her six years ago if she thought she would be a pastry chef, she would have told them they were crazy. She never really even liked sweets but she supposed that was a good thing. Otherwise she would probably weight five hundred pounds because she spent all her time making all manner of sweets. Cakes, candies, pastries, desserts and breads were her life.

"You're going to be late if you don't leave soon, mon amour," Marielle called from the bedroom.

Emily walked across the hall to the bedroom while fastening her watch to her wrist. "I know. I'm leaving now."

Marielle was sprawled on their queen sized bed with her tablet on her lap and several design magazines spread out around her. Emily smiled at the familiar sight. Marielle had a perfectly good desk in the east corner of the living room but she always managed to find herself spread out all over their bed. She told Emily she was more comfortable on the bed but Emily knew it was because her girlfriend didn't like the small desk, the only size that would fit, in that corner of the living room of their one bedroom apartment.

Their apartment was still fairly spacious for a one bedroom. It had vaulted ceilings throughout, an oversized living room and both a dining room and a breakfast nook, as well as a balcony that had a view of the Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica Pier in the distance. But she knew Marielle would have preferred a two bedroom so she could have used one as a home office.

As an interior designer, she oftentimes, even in only the month that she'd been working, brought work home from the office. Had Emily realized how important that was to her and how often she'd be bringing work home, the brunette would have tried to get a two bedroom. But apartment inventory was in short supply in Santa Monica and prices were much higher than either of them had anticipated when they decided to make the move to California.

And when Emily had found this apartment she fell in love with both its charm and proximity to the restaurant. Marielle had quickly found a job at a boutique design firm based in Westwood so she was going to have to drive to work regardless, but this apartment's proximity to work allowed Emily to ride her newly purchased bike.

Of course Marielle had argued that saving all that money on gas should have allowed them the ability to afford a larger apartment, but they were now locked into a year lease. So Emily promised her girlfriend that when their lease was up they could look for a bigger place.

"What's the point of your office taking a 'mental health day' on Wednesdays if you're still working from home?" Emily asked curiously as she walked closer to the bed.

"I am taking a mental health day." Emily arched a brow at the beautiful brunette in front of her, causing her to laugh. Emily loved the sound of Marielle's laugh. "This isn't for work," Marielle continued as she patted the spot next to her on the mattress, inviting Emily to sit down. "I'm looking for us."

"But we have furniture now," Emily replied a little confused as she sat down.

It had taken almost the two months since Marielle arrived for her girlfriend to find just the right pieces for their place. If it had been up to her, Emily would have gone to the closest furniture store and bought everything all in one place. But after Marielle had picked her jaw up off the floor when Emily suggested it, she schooled Emily in the importance of seeking out each piece of furniture individually. Each piece had to say something about them and their personalities and their life together, otherwise what was the point of it.

Rather than argue, which she knew from experience would get her nowhere, Emily let Marielle have her way. However, that unfortunately resulted in them eating standing up at the kitchen counter for three weeks and not having a sofa to sit on until just four days ago.

"Yes we do, mon amour," Marielle replied indulgently. "But now that we've got the furniture, we need to find les ornements."

"Of course we do," Emily smiled back just as indulgently.

Marielle laughed again and leaned forward to press her lips to Emily's. "Passe une belle journée au travail ma chérie."

Emily hummed softly against her lips. "Merci mon cœur."

Emily stood and headed back out of the bedroom. "I should be home by ten."

"Je t'attendrai nue," Marielle called after her, causing Emily to stop in her tracks and turn around. Her girlfriend was smiling impishly.

"You better be," Emily replied, her voice low and husky before she turned back around and shook off the image her girlfriend's words evoked.

Otherwise she would never get through the next six hours.

###############

Alison sat in the director's chair and perused the pictures in her camera's viewfinder, making sure she got all the shots she wanted. The smell coming from the kitchen behind her was making her mouth water. Someone was baking some sort of chocolate heaven in there, Alison was sure, and it took all her willpower not to walk back there and ask for a taste.

Maybe that's why she was feeling so cranky. When the crew broke for lunch, Alison had taken a conference call with Samuel about her shoot in the Bahamas next month. As a result she didn't have time to eat and that just made the scent wafting from the kitchen all that more tempting.

"Can I pack these lights up, boss?" Alison heard from behind her and she scowled but didn't reply.

She heard the sound of fingers drumming on the arm of the chair next to her and she turned and glared at the person attached to them.

"Cut the crap Jack. I'll tell you when I want the lights packed up."

"Someone is cranky today," he said as his lips curved into a boyish grin. It only made Alison glare harder at him before she looked back to her camera.

"That grin doesn't work on me anymore."

Jack laughed out loud. "Who are you kidding? That grin never worked on you."

Alison's scowl morphed into a smirk.

"It's too bad they don't open until five. We could have grabbed dinner," Jack said casually while he waited for Alison to tell him it was time to wrap it up.

"I know," Alison replied woefully. "I'm about ready to storm the kitchen and dive head first into the first chocolate item I come across."

"I do love the image of you covered in chocolate I must say."

"That's because you've seen me covered in chocolate," Alison snickered.

"This is true," Jack grinned. "I've never enjoyed licking chocolate off anyone as much before or since."

"I want to retake the shot with the owner by the entrance," Alison replied completely ignoring his comment.

"Oh good, I haven't taken those lights down yet either," Jack said more to himself.

Mandi, the wardrobe stylist, walked up to her. "Pierre wants to keep his suit."

Alison nodded without looking up from her camera. "Let him. I'll let Naomi know I approved it."

"Groovy," Mandi replied making Alison chuckle.

"You really date yourself when you say shit like that."

"I know." Mandi grinned. "But I'm forty and I look better than most twenty five year olds so I don't give a fuck."

Alison smirked in response. Mandi was her favorite stylist to work with because the two of them had very similar personalities and views on life.

"Can you ask Pierre to come out one more time?" Alison asked a waitress who was setting the tables nearby.

The girl nodded and smiled before she walked away. Jack's eyes followed her and Alison reached up and smacked him in the chest as she stood up and grabbed her tripod.

"Don't be a pig. Will you move that silk a little to the right?" Alison asked as she set her camera on the tripod and adjusted the aperture.

"I saw you eyeing her out of the corner of your eye too," Jack replied as he did as she asked.

Pierre walked over at that moment and saved Alison from either confirming or denying Jack's words.

"Ashley," Alison called to the makeup artist sitting at the bar. "Can you make him a little less shiny please?"

Ashley grabbed her bag and walked over as Pierre sat in the chair Alison had vacated.

"I'm not happy with the shots I took by the entrance," she said to Pierre as she reached into her camera bag to swap out her zoom. "So I just want to retake them and then we're done."

Ten minutes later Alison was packing up her camera as Jack started breaking down the flags and lights.

"I really need to find another assistant. This packing up my own gear at the end of a shoot blows."

"What happened to Annie anyway?" Jack asked as he switched off the Kino and pulled the diffuser away.

"It was time for her to move on," Alison said noncommittally.

"That sounds like a story."

"Well it's not," Alison snapped, really not wanting to get into it. "I just need another assistant. And preferably one that doesn't want to sleep with me," Alison added after the fact.

Jack turned from where he was wrapping cable. "You slept with another one? Damn girl, do you ever not end up fucking them?"

"Fuck you, Jack," Alison growled lowly. "I didn't sleep with all of them."

Jack eyed her knowingly. "Which one?"

"I didn't sleep with Jasmine."

"But you did sleep with Nathan and Carly. Wait a minute, didn't you actually sleep with them together?" he teased even though Alison had never admitted if she had despite the numerous times he begged her to tell him.

"I really don't like how you know so much about my sex life." Alison zipped up her camera bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"That's what I love about you Alison. You sleep with men, you sleep with women, you sleep with dogs. You don't give a fuck. You just do whatever and whoever you want."

"First of all Jack, eww. That sounded really gross the way you said it." He laughed unrepentantly. "And second," Alison punched him in the bicep. "You not only make me sound like a whore but a pervert. You just resent Pepe because he peed on you."

"Your dog is a psycho."

"He's a better bed mate than you are. He doesn't snore." That was a complete lie but there was no way Alison was going sell Pepe out.

"I don't fucking snore," Jack growled and Alison laughed in response.

"Uh huh," Alison hummed noncommittally. "Come on. Hurry up and pack those lights away and I'll buy you dinner at La Vecchia."

"Photo shoot at a French restaurant. Dinner at an Italian restaurant. I like a girl who gets around."

"I'm giving you ten minutes and then I'm leaving without you."

#################

While she waited for Jack to pack up the rest of his gear, Alison leaned against the hostess desk at the front of the restaurant. She was sending a text to Jason to ask him if he'd stop by her house and take Pepe for a walk. Although the last time it happened, she vowed it was the last time it would happen, but Alison had a feeling she might end up going back to Jack's place tonight.

Pierre walked up to her with a gift box. He opened it as he approached and Alison actually whimpered as she looked inside.

He smiled at her reaction. "This is a house specialty. Soufflé au chocolat avec ganache au chocolat et crème fouettée."

Alison whimpered again. Pierre didn't bother to translate for Alison because she had told him earlier she knew French.

"We have a new pâtissier. She just moved here from Paris and this is her own personal recipe."

"It looks divine." Alison hoped she wasn't drooling because that would have been extremely embarrassing.

"It tastes even better. We sell out of it every day." He closed the box and handed it to her. "Avec mes compliments."

"Merci," Alison replied as she smiled gratefully. Maybe Jack would get another opportunity to lick chocolate off once again.

A female laugh echoed softly through the dining room and Alison froze. She knew that laugh. Even if a hundred years had passed, she'd know that laugh anywhere.

Alison's chest tightened and she felt like she was suffocating. She stepped backwards toward the door.

She couldn't look. She didn't dare look.

Pierre reached a hand out to her. "Are you alright, Alison?"

"I'm sorry Pierre but I have to go," she choked out in a strangled tone as she handed the box back to him. "I'll have the proofs to my editor by the end of the week."

Alison's back hit the door and she spun around to push it open. Her eyes caught sight of the tall brunette in a white chef's uniform standing at the entrance to the kitchen. She was talking to the bartender and even from this distance Alison could see she had a streak of flour on her cheek.

Alison felt like she'd been struck in the chest and she had to look away.

"Alison," Pierre said again concerned as she shoved the door open.

Emily looked up when she heard the familiar name. She gasped, dropping the tray of cream puffs in her hand as she saw the blonde pushing through the front door.

Of all the times over the years when she thought she'd seen Alison, there was always something about the numerous blondes that just weren't right. But for the very first time Emily knew, even before the blonde's head turned in her direction, that it really was Alison.

Alison eyes met hers for several seconds and Emily saw the same confusion and pain she was feeling echoed in them before the blonde turned her head again and bolted from view.

#############

Alison slammed the door behind her and sunk to her knees. She hung her head forward in surrender as she struggled to breathe. Her chest felt like there was an elephant sitting on it and no matter what she did or how much air she tried to inhale she couldn't fill her lungs.

Pepe came bounding over as he always did and head butted her in the shoulder. Sensing her distress, he whimpered softly as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. She was shaking and the not so small dog wiggled as he struggled to climb on top of her.

"Oh, Pepe," she sighed softly into his fur. Part of her wanted to rage and scream and cry but the other part was just too defeated. She had worked too hard to stay out of Emily's life, to give the brunette a fresh start without the baggage of having the blonde in her life. But now it was all for naught.

A sound coming from the direction of the kitchen put Alison on alert. She'd elected to park on the street in front of her townhouse rather than drive around to the garage in the back, so she entered the house through the rarely used front door rather than the kitchen.

"Hello?" she called as she gripped onto Pepe's fur.

"Hey," a male voice rang out and Alison released the breath she was holding.

"Fuck, Jason," Alison growled as she pushed Pepe off her legs and stood up, her legs feeling a little wobbly. She walked toward the back of the townhouse and around the wall into the kitchen. "Why didn't you say something when you heard me come in?"

Jason wiggled out from beneath the sink. "I figured you heard me banging around in here. What are you deaf?"

Her brother looked up at her with an amused look and Alison's irritation faded, although she continued to scowl. "You're such an ass."

Jason shrugged and ducked back under the sink.

"What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked sarcastically. "You said your garbage disposal wasn't working, right? What the fuck do you put down here anyway?"

"I didn't mean for you to come fix it," Alison said as she sat on the kitchen floor and crossed her legs. Pepe came over and plopped onto her lap again. He was always clingy, especially when he sensed she was upset. "I could have called a plumber."

"It's stupid to pay a plumber when I know how to replace one." Jason reached out and grabbed a different wrench.

"It has to be replaced?" Alison frowned. "I just thought something was stuck in it."

"You burned the motor out. Like I asked, what the fuck did you put down here? It looked like bones." Jason asked as he laughed.

"I got Pepe a steak last week because I felt bad for being out of town."

"You're supposed to trash the bones Ali, not grind them."

Alison shrugged. It was worth it because Pepe had loved his steak.

After a few minutes of silence, Jason looked out from beneath the sink. "Is there a reason why you're sitting here watching me?"

Alison bit her bottom lip anxiously. She looked away as she mumbled softly. "I saw Emily today."

The blonde turned back at the sound of metal clanging as Jason smacked his head on the pipe. "What did you just say?" he asked through clenched teeth as he wiggled out from under the sink and sat up, rubbing his head.

"I saw Emily today," Alison said again, this time more clearly. "She's here in LA."

"Where did you see her?" Jason asked carefully.

Emily was a very delicate subject and he always had to tread carefully because even just the mention of her could send Alison spiraling. Too many times over the years, he'd had to pick her up, both physically and emotionally, whenever Alison saw the brunette.

Of course, Emily never saw Alison, the blonde was always extremely careful. She always made sure her high school love never knew she was watching the numerous times she'd tracked the brunette down.

"She was at the restaurant where my shoot was. She works there."

"Did she see you?" Jason asked just as cautiously as he moved a little closer in case Alison tried something. She had lightening quick reflexes and Jason had missed stopping her from reacting at least a handful of times.

"Relax," Alison scowled at him as she backed away from him. "I'm not going to do anything."

Alison stood up quickly and moved even further away. She hated when Jason crowded her. She knew he did it only because he cared but sometimes his hovering just made it worse. She wrung her fingers together.

"What happened?" Jason asked as he also stood up but the doorbell rang before Alison could answer.

Neither one of them moved at first but then Alison sighed and walked past him and out of the kitchen as she said. "Can you hurry up fixing that please? I want to be alone tonight."

Alison approached the door and pulled it open without bothering to look through the peep hole. Pepe scurried up next to her barking excitedly.

Standing on the front stoop, looking just as frazzled as Alison felt, still wearing her chef's uniform and holding the dessert box from Pierre, was Emily.

Alison hiccupped and stopped breathing as she, for the first time since that fateful night six years ago, came face to face with her mermaid.

Second author's note:

My goal is to update this once a week, most likely Sunday nights or Mondays. But I make no promises… this is the busiest time of year for me work wise. Thanks in advance for your patience and again for taking the time to read and review.

I'm not French…..I don't speak French…. so all I can say is thank goodness for Google Translate. If anyone sees that I've completely fucked up their language…. please feel free to let me know.

French translation:

à décorer notre appartement – decorating our apartment

les morceaux d'accent et accessories – the accent pieces and accessories

Avoir une belle journée au travail ma chérie – Have a wonderful day at work my darling

Merci mon amie – Thank you sweetheart

Je vais attendre pour vous nue – I'll be waiting for you naked.

Soufflé au chocolat avec ganache au chocolat et la crème fouettée – Chocolate souffle with chocolate ganache and whipped cream."

Avec ma grace – With my thanks.