A/N: Le sigh. I'm really trying to get into Maya/Emily but it's not happening. I'm loving her quasi friendship-thing with Toby and I'm more interested in what her dynamic was with Ali. It's much more intriguing. Reviews are always appreciated.

It's looking like a limb torn off
Or altogether just taken apart
We're reeling through an endless fall
We are the ever-living ghost of what once was

Band of Horses, No One's Gonna Love You

Ultimately, it doesn't matter that Alison Delaurentis is the epitome of cold; that she exceeds what it means to be a bitch or that armour of hers is completely impenetrable.

Emily craved the challenge.

And she knows how strange it is, but she's happy to have something of Alison left. Messages, threats; what Ali was doing now wasn't really all that different to what she did when she was physically present. She still dominates their lives in her same commanding demeanour.

So here she is, Emily with her three best friends, standing in front of a mirror marred with the same shade of vibrant red she wanted to kiss so many times before. Ali provided the challenges and Emily still craves them.

Whisper, whisper, whisper. It's almost like Alison's still here.

Ali was always last to leave the party anyway, Emily muses.

They began and ended with each other.

After all, it made sense for the Queen-bee to include at least one jock in her circle.

It had all started when they were fourteen. Ali enjoyed shopping with Emily that didn't involve buying a new lacrosse stick and she'd brought Hanna and Spencer into the fold; Spencer with her indispensible flashcards and intuition that could get them out of any situation they got themselves into and Hanna with her insecurities that Ali could exploit. Emily became Aria's friend; they were the relaxed laid-back ones and gravitated towards each other naturally. Three of them were people of action; Ali, Spencer and Hanna, and Emily and Aria were along for the journey they were lead on.

The same journey they're still on.

It was Ali's house Emily would go to when she and Spencer were out for a run and it began raining, their feet pounding the pavement almost faster than the raindrops.

Spencer would ring the door-bell and Emily would smile and then give into her giggles, not knowing why her heart was thudding, why Ali was grinning like the fool everyone knew she wasn't.

Ali would greet them with an eye-roll and go back to filing her nails.

She'd toss a towel to them and Emily swears she just didn't hear her say, "Em, you're so cute. You big jock."

Alison decided when her guard went down; no one broke it. It's all about control, and she was intent on having it then, and she's clearly intent on keeping it.

Emily hates how unwavering it is, how much she'll always care about Ali.

(How unwavering her love is for her.)

When she can admit it to herself, alone, staring out her window; she lifts her hand to wave to Ali and she feels a smile play on her lips.

Ali smiles impishly back; tilts her head playfully; turns around and takes off her top and draws her curtains.

Emily doesn't know what she just saw. All she does know is that she's terrified.

I think there's something wrong with me.

She can't deduce why everyone else wants to be Ali, and Emily just wants her.

That's what's wrong with her.

Something draws her to Maya and the night they share a bed she understands why.

She is nothing like Alison – Maya is as far away from gleaming blonde curls as it gets.

Ali made her nervous constantly; Emily always had to be on her game around her.

Maya doesn't challenge Emily in the slightest. Maybe when it comes to figuring out what it is her for her – girls or boys – but not in the same sense as Alison did.

Maya makes Emily feel relaxed, like she's allowed to be herself.

Being in Ali's presence is the last time Emily really ever felt like herself.

Maya kisses her in the photo booth and Emily lets her.

The only images that race through her head are blond strands and red lips and "Em? Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want me."

"I'm looking at you the way I always look at you." Emily said it sternly, daring Ali to dispute it.

Daring Ali to dispute the fact that Emily would always want her.

All the parties during the summer before sophomore year involve the girls conspiring what to do to deal with Hanna's hopeless crush on Sean and Ali's hand loosely grasping Emily's wrist.

On the last week of summer at the wildest party to end it, Ali is sitting on the bathroom sink whilst Emily sits on the edge of the tub, for no real reason. It's a bit of a blur – how they got here.

Emily wakes up in the morning in the bathtub and Ali's somehow curled beside her and she remembers why Ali's red lip-gloss is smeared and Emily's lips are swollen.

Ali's too beautiful for her own good, devastatingly so. It's why everything she touches, including Emily, disintegrates.

Alison doesn't talk about it and that means Emily can't.

Ali will send a coy smile across a classroom every so often, tease her about Beyoncé to let her knows that yeah, she remembers.

The 'Jenna Thing' is a learning curve for them all. They all learn to keep a part of themselves for storing secrets. Of course, it had to be Ali who showed them that part of themselves.

That's the point where all of them become distorted. Spencer dives all in to her studies more eagerly than before, Hanna skips lunch these days, Aria's laid-back attitude is more exaggerated and Emily wonders if she'd ever do this for anyone else.

Only Ali could challenge her in that way; keep blurring the boundaries more each time.

When Maya gives her the red scarf all Emily thinks about is how Ali was always buying her things – she'd pick up stuff for Aria or Spencer or Hanna sometimes too, of course, but the things Ali got Emily reminded her that Ali saw straight through her and nothing Emily said or did could haze her. Each gift said I've got you figured out, Fields. It made Emily inextricably happy and nervous all at once.

Emily wonders just how long Maya will be kept waiting on her.

Waiting for the imprint of blonde strands and red lips to fade from Emily's memory.

Waiting for A to give up whatever game she's playing.

Waiting for the morning Emily doesn't wake up to the thought of fake smiles and cutting remarks and wonder where Ali is, wake up and not wish Ali was tangled around her in that bathroom.

Maya will wait for Emily; Emily will always be waiting for Alison.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter that Alison Delaurentis is the epitome of cold; that she exceeds what it means to be a bitch or that armour of hers is completely impenetrable.

What matters is that Emily traded moments with her that cracked her ice, reminded Ali that she had her all figured out, amidst the blonde curls, lacrosse sticks, nail polish and venom.