It's a terrible idea and Alison knows it. Yet, here she stands, in a strangers back garden at the early hours of the morning. Her body shivers partly due to the bitter cold air and the panic, which begins to emanate from within; she can feel the crow bar slowly slip down her shaky hand; damp and sticky with sweat. She can't go through with this, and it's showing. Jason (her older brother) stands next to her, scoffing and then sniffing. He snatches the tool from Alison's hand; throwing her an unsettling and menacing grin. He mutters, "Pay attention-"

He swings the crow bar with full force at the window; the sound of shattering glass echoes through the night - Alison's entire body trembles in response - and she lets out a loud and surprised yelp. She's confident that the entire neighborhood heard the smash of the glass. She's confident they heard her, too. A sudden spark of desperation rushes through her body and one thought overruns her mind; she has to get out of here. She begins to dart for the fence at the other end of the garden, but is quickly stopped when her brother grabs her by her hoodie and drags her back. She protests weakly, but he tightens his grip, swinging her and then pushing her towards the window; not letting go of her.

There's no going back now.

"What're you gonna do? Flake on me?" Jason cries, gripping her jumper desperately. Alison frantically shakes her head; her lips stretch wide into a quivering frown and her eyes begin to water. "N-no, I- I'm not going anywhere, I swear!" She promises. Jason considers this; his eyes scan her face, in search for insincerity. He lets go of her collar with a nudge, causing her to stumble back and hit the window sill (cutting her hand in the process). He stalks over to her manically and grabs her wrist - this time, she doesn't protest. She doesn't dare. He then climbs up (still holding her) and tugs her along with him. Alison allows herself be led, clumsily stepping onto the plant pot before her and then onto the window sill. As she climbs, she can feel the crunch of glass beneath her feet. She looks around the alarmingly quiet garden, warily and unnerved that nobody has found them yet. It's only a matter of time.

Her feet land quietly onto the kitchen floor and Jason finally lets go. He leads them around the pitch black house; hauling her down the hall way and into the living area. He switches on the light and Alison sucks in a gasp, letting her eyes wonder the living room that they shouldn't be wondering; she feels like she's accidentally stumbled onto the front page of a furniture magazine, except this, is no accident. The room is decorated with cherry wood furniture; a piano; and monochromatic painting's, that hang above the smart television. Jason whistles.

"Not to shabby, huh?" He murmurs, removing the backpack from his shoulder. It is when he speaks that she begins to notice the other aspects of the room; family photo's that paint the wall above the fireplace; children's drawings that sit between the paintings; and a cabinet, filled with awards and knick- knacks.

It's a home.

"I don't know, Jason." Alison attempts timidly, trying to pull off a confident stance, which is compromised by the tremble of her bottom lip (it makes her look weak). He looks at her over his shoulder with a look of disgust and then shame. He speaks, "So, you're just gonna wimp out? Be like Charlotte?" The words make Alison flinch as she remembers her older sister. Charlotte escaped from all of this, many years ago - problem is, she left Alison behind, all alone. Since then, Alison has had no choice but to comply and partake in the family business (stealing from rich people). Is she angry at Charlotte? Of course. Does she blame her?

Not at all.

Because, she would have done the same thing, at any given opportunity.

She still would.

Jason glides over to Alison, causing her to instinctively step back, until her back hits a wall with a thump (the vibration causes a painting to fall down, creating another thump). He crowds over her in an intimidating manner. He watches her and she watches back - it is in this moment that Alison looks at his eyes; his pupils are blown and eye lids are wide open. He's wired and completely out of it. He yells, "Do you want to be forgotten?!" Jason grips her arms and gives them one powerful shake - this makes Alison's head fly forward, then backwards - like a boomerang. It hits the wall with a hard crash, and she collapses. For a moment, her vision is blurry, hazy, (it takes a minute for her to regain composure). When she can finally see straight again, she looks up to see Jason towering over her with a delightful glint in his eye. It leaves Alison still like a rock, but rattling with fear.

He reaches down, to grab her again, but doesn't get the chance to. The room lights up, flashing blue and red. The wail of sirens quickly follow after, filling the room and echoing off of the walls. It happens so fast. Jason yanks her arm and drags her through the house and into the kitchen; he pushes her towards the window; he jumps out first and looks back at her; she pauses; he mouths at her 'get a move on'; he gets tackled to the groud; and he gets cuffed.

Alison feels numb and filled with adrenaline simultaneously; she has no idea how to go forward. If she surrenders herself, she will probably get a slap on the wrist and a few weeks community service - at the very least, anyway. But, if she runs and gets away, she faces no charges, no jail time. She makes a split decision;

She makes a run for it.

She jumps up from the ground and sprints for the kitchen door, but is stopped almost immediately when she runs straight into the arms of a police officer.

"You're under arrest."

Alison is laying down on the broken tiled floor; an arm behind her head and the other mindlessly tapping the ground as she counts the squares on the ceiling. She's been rotting in this cell for a day and a half and it's been nothing but silence. This isn't how she pictured spending her Friday morning, but then she reminds herself - she's had it worse. Surrounding her are around a dozen other delinquents, who don't want to know. No one has spoken, nor made the effort to. Some look scared, others look hungry - and then sadly - a few look right at home, like they belong. The cell door slams open and Alison sits upright, to see who it is.

"Alison Dilaurentis, your lawyer is here to see you." A guard announces. Alison's blinks in confusion (wondering when she got a lawyer), she decides to go along with it, shrugs and follows the man out of the cell. She's led to a small meeting room down the hall, where a woman in a pant suit is sitting on one of the two damaged plastic chairs, reading through a file. She looks like a hot shot, Alison thinks. When the guard closes the door, the woman focuses her attention on Alison, who shuffles over to a chair and sits, watching her suspiciously. The lawyer offers Alison a handshake, flashing her a teethy grin, but she refuses it. The woman awkwardly surrenders and places her hand on the table, clearing her throat.

"Alison, I'm Veronica Hastings. I've been appointed to be your public defender." The woman explains, hoping to ease the situation. It doesn't work. Alison just stares at her blankly, bored. Veronica studies the girl and notices a gash on her hand, wrapped poorly with tissue. She also spots bruises dotted up and down her arms - Alison arches a brow at her, as if suggesting that it's none of her business.

"They treating you alright in here?" She wonders with concern. Alison shrugs, avoiding eye contact; the last thing the girl needs is pity. Alison looks defeated and feels it, too. She doesn't really give a damn what happens to her. The woman sighs when she fails to get another response.

"I'm on your side, Alison." Veronica tries. At this, the blonde finally looks up at the lawyer, giving her a small, but noticable smile. Veronica accepts that as sign of progress and pats herself on the back. "W-where's my brother?" Alison whispers, biting her gums and breaking eye contact again, to prevent herself from trembling - from breaking. Veronica clears her throat, sighs, then shuffles through the papers on the table until she finds the one that she's searching for. She reads over it internally; her eye brows raise more and more as her eyes scan the page. They land on Alison, and judging by the sympathetic look she's recieving from the woman, it can't be good.

"Jason- Jason has been linked with more robberies in the area and is looking at three to five years.. For that. He also had a few grams of cocaine on him when he was arrested, so that's-."

"- Not good." Alison finishes, letting out a breath that almost sounds like relief. Veronica watches her curiously. "No. No it's not." The lawyer agrees. Alison sinks into her seat when she realizes that it may be the same for her, too. "And me?" Alison asks her, biting her cheek in anticipation. "You're a minor. You were sober. It's your first time behind bars and I assume that you don't plan on returning." Alison raises a brow, unsure of what this means. Veronica tuts and leans forward when she catches on.

"That means you're free to go home." She reveals, giving Alison a warm smile. The woman frowns when the girl's reaction is one of dread rather than one of solace. Truth is, Alison's shitting herself, unsure of what to expect when she goes home - if she still has one. The dread must be obvious, because Veronica's eyes flash with concern. "Are you okay? To go home?" She asks carefully. Alison nods instantly, too soon. - If it wasn't obvious then, it must be now. Veronica nods back, but her expression says different, it says 'I'm not buying it'. She reaches into her back and obtains her purse. She pulls out what looks like a business card and hands it to the girl.

"Well, if things aren't.. Okay. Call." Alison looks at her with a stunned and skeptical expression, wondering why anyone would want to help a convict. Veronica continues, "We will help-"

"Can I go? Please?" Alison snaps, begging. She stands from her seat in an obviously uncomfortable state. Not wanting to push the girl any further, Veronica follows her lead and lets out a defeated sigh. "Of course. I'll ask the guard to bring you your clothes." And at that, Veronica leaves the room and Alison finally lets it happen.

She breaks.

"We'll contact you, to remind you about the date for the hearing." Veronica reminds her, trying to put her at ease. "Look, thanks for all you've done, but.. Is this really necessary?" Alison attempts bitterly, hoping that the lawyer will take the hint and back off. "Yes. I have to release you into the care of a parent or guardian." Veronica says matter-of-factly. Alison huffs, feeling annoyed and impatient and tired.

She doesn't want the lawyer to meet her mother.

She doesn't want anybody to have to meet her mother.

Before she can respond, an old, beat up car pulls up, slamming on the breaks. Much to Alison's dismay, a person steps out of the vehicle who she fears more than her mother. Her dad. The door flies open and he storms out of the car; slamming the door shut with unnecerssary force. He paces towards his daughter, quickly and dangerously, giving her an angry glare filled with so much hate, so much disdain. Alison just takes it, like she always does, but Veronica on watches with caution.

"Get in the car, Alison." He orders in such a spine chillingly calm tone. Veronica watches carefully as Alison walks quickly to the car and gets inside, then turns her attention to Mr Dilaurentis. "Hello Mr Dilaurentis, I'm Ve-"

"You should have left her in there." He spits, throwing Veronica off. She's never seen so much resentment in one's eyes before, so much anger. Veronica doesn't speak, she doesn't give the other man the satisfaction and when he turns around and gets into the car; Veronica looks at the helpless girl and prays that she is okay.

Alison braces herself for the consenquences. Her father doesn't speak during the entire journey, he doesn't put on the radio like he normally does.

It's just silence.

They've been home for half an hour and it's been nothing but a lecture on how she's 'let the whole family down' and how 'her star child is behind bars because of her stupid mistake', and then the hardest to hear of them all,

"You were a mistake!"

"Mom, please don't say that." Alison begs, edging closer to her mother and clinging desperately to her wrists. "I- I'm your daughter." Jessica shoves Alison's hands away and wipes her face. She cries,

"No you're not!"

Those words assault Alison's mind. She brushes her eyes and tries to ignore the burn in her throat, that grows. "Just get out!" Ken yells. Alison blinks twice, absorbing the words just spoken, stumbling slightly at the intensity of them; this was what she was afraid of. When Alison doesn't budge, Jessica shoves her towards the door and yells, "Get out!" Alison doesn't speak, she just obeys; she walks out of the room on shaky lets and heads upstars into her bedroom. She grabs a bag and attempts to cram as much of her life into it as she possibly can. She packs clothes, a brush, her savings and that's it - that's all that'll fit. She looks around her bedroom one last time, then carefully steps downstairs, coming face to face with her mother.

"I'm sorry, Mom." Alison says. Jessica watches her blankly, not having a care in the world. "Just- Just leave." Jessica speaks, her voice exhausted and done. She looks at her mother in disbelief;

Her stomach turns into a bundle of knotted ropes; she feels like she's going to be sick. Ken joins them in the hallway, giving Alison a warning glare.

And then she leaves.

No one would take her in, they wouldn't dare. Everyone's too afraid of her family and their reputation - So instead, she roams the streets, at eleven o'clock at night, on a Friday. She knows that it's not practical, that it's dangerous and careless, but she doesn't exactly have a choice. It then dawns on her;

She does.

She empties her pockets hurriedly until she retrieves the card given to her earlier and analyzes it. There's mobile number and Alison debates calling it. On one hand, she doesn't want to be intrusive and rude, and on the other, she has nowhere else to go and has no other option. She lets out a ragged breath which forms into a mini cloud - it's too cold to sleep on a bench, she decides. She grabs her phone and slowly types the number into it, giving her the chance to compose herself.

She dials.

It rings a few times, then goes to voicemail.

Standard.

Alison has no desire to dwell on it, so she continues her journey to a hidden area in the woods, which she knows won't be occupied (bar the raccoons, of course). A couple of minutes go by and she feels her phone buzz, then her heart jump. She checks it immediately.

One new message.

It reads;

Unknown number: Who is this?

When Veronica finds her, Alison is sitting on a bench - Alison doesn't acknowledge her straight away - she's too caught up in her chaotic thoughts.

"Hi." She hears Veronica greet her. Alison turns her gaze to the woman - she's stood in front of her with a sad smile on her face. Alison returns it, with her eyes watering. "I didn't know where else to go." She whispers honestly, looking to the ground sadly. "What now?" She adds, sounding helpless. Veronica takes a seat next to her and speaks. "I made some calls to some foster homes in the area, on the way here." She tells her honestly. Alison feels her jaw clench and body tense. "But, because it's a Friday evening, I didn't have any luck. I wont, 'til Monday." Alison chuckles, because of course this would happen.

"Is there anybody that you can stay with?" Veronica asks. Alison scoffs. "If I did, do you think I'd be here?" She points out obviously and bitterly. "Thought so. Well then, I guess you're stuck with me for the weekend." Alison looks at her skeptically and considers it. She agrees by giving her a curt nod.

"Okay."

After a twenty minute drive, they enter a street filled with big, fancy houses. Alison gazes out of her window in awe, impressed, but overwhelmed by it. It also makes her uneasy, because it looks just like the house that her and Jason tried to rob recently - it isn't - but it's not a friendly reminder. Unfortunately, they pull up opposite said house and Alison feels the anxiety overtake her.

"You alright?" The woman asks her. Alison responds, "Yeah.. It's just.. It looks like.." When Veronica looks in her line of sight, a look of realization hits her face and she catches on. "Oh." She breathes out, giving Alison a reassuring smile. She then looks towards her house with a look of hesitance on her face. "I'll be back in a minute, got some explaining to do." She tells Alison, leaving the car and walking away. The girl steps out of the vehicle and leans back against the car as she waits, cringing every time she looks at the beautiful house opposite whilst feeling the guilt overtake her.

Spencer already seemed annoyed at her mother from excusing her from her sleepover with her friends, but now she looks livid, after finding out this information.

"You brought home a criminal?!" Spencer yells, slamming her laptop shut and hugging it; as if said criminal is going to steal it. "She's a child, Spencer. Like you." Veronica reasons, receiving one of her daughters most unsettling glares. "No, not like me. I don't steal from people." Spencer bites back. Veronica falls speechless for a beat, unsure of how to respond to that. "It's just for the weekend, Spencer."

"What if it's all a scam? She-"

"She's a kid. Who got dragged into a messy situation because of her older brother. And trust me, she doesn't want to be here, but she doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go."

"Is it because she stole from them?"

"I am not letting her wonder the streets until Monday and that's final, so suck it up." She argues. Spencer snickers and heads for the door. "Well, when you wake up with an empty jewelry box, don't say I didn't warn you." Spencer pauses by the door and turns to face her mother.

"She sleeps in the barn." Spencer demands, before exiting the kitchen. Veronica lets out a frustrated huff and accepts that;

This is as good as it's going to get.

Alison startles when she spots someone leave the house across the street (mostly because she's blatantly been staring at it for about ten minutes), it occurs to her how sketchy she seems. The person is a girl - a stunning girl who is definitely out of her league - her brunette hair is tied back in a bobble; she's wearing pajama bottoms and a hoodie; and she's looking right at her. Alison curses internally as the girl approaches her slowly, cautiously. Alison's pretty certain that this girl could kick her ass, but more certain that that's what's about to happen.

"Who are you?" The beautiful stranger asks, with her face scrunched up in confusion. There's a pause and Alison doesn't know what to say. She's unsure if she's meant to be staying here on the down low, to protect Veronica's family's reputation or if by chance, she somehow knows who she is. So instead, she comes out with something worse, which she instantly mentally slaps herself for.

"Vivian Darkbloom." She mutters. The stranger lights up at the clearly fake name and tilts her head. "Really?" The stranger challenges her. Alison feels a blush slide up her face and caves in embarrassment. "No. It's Alison. I don't know why I did that." She reveals, looking down in shame. She's normally much smoother, but the past few days have knocked her confidence. To her surprise, the girl laughs. "I'm Emily." Alison looks up at the girl, who's standing closer to her now. Her eyes are warm and Alison gets lost in them. "What are you doing out here?" Emily questions her, with an obvious hint of worry to her voice. "I'm staying here." Alison reveals. Emily's eye brow quirks at this, then she asks, "Are you a friend of Spencer's?" Alison shakes her head, "No." Emily frowns, then a look of realization covers her face.

"Oh, you're the cousin from California, right?" Emily guesses, catching Alison off guard for a brief moment - she decides to go along with it, if it means that she'll never find out who she really is and why she's really here. "Yeah, I came to visit- for the weekend." Alison lies. "Short visit." Emily points out. Suddenly, the blonde is extremely thankful to have been raised by great liars. "Yeah, I'm moving here.. For college next year. I want to familiarize myself with the area." Emily grins and her face is filled with excitement. "Oh wow, what college?" This girl just doesn't quit. "The one by the city." Alison attempts. There's always a college by the city. Luckily, Emily's face lights up again. "Hollis?" Alison nods, patting herself on the shoulder for that good save. The sound of footsteps approaching interrupt their conversation. It's Veronica and who Alison can only assume is Spencer. "Spencer, this-"

"Ready?" Spencer interrupts her mother, turning her attention to Emily. Veronica throws Spencer a warning look, which is also ignored. "Yeah, I'm ready. It was nice meeting you, Vivian." Emily jokes, causing Alison's cheek to redden, once again. The girl also throws her a playful smile, only making matters worse for Alison. She waves at her and Veronica before stepping towards the house. Spencer stares at her with accusation; sussing her out. It's only brief, but there's weight to it. When Spencer's gone, Alison clenches her jaw as her face goes red again, except this time, in anger and embarrassment. She feels like a joke. Veronica's blinks and she takes a step closer to the girl. "I apologize, Al-"

"I should go." Alison decides. She throws her bag over her shoulder and walks away quickly, only to be stopped by Veronica, who blocks her path. "You have nowhere else to go and it's supposed to rain tonight, think this through." Alison scoffs mockingly and shrugs. She's right. She lets out a sigh in defeat and gives the woman a reluctant nod. "Okay." Alison whispers. Veronica looks relieved and the pair begin to walk towards the house. "Don't worry about Spencer, she isn't really- fond of people." Veronica attempts to explain. "Are you sure she's just not fond of criminals?" Alison sasses. The woman comes to a halt and places a hand on Alison's shoulder, stopping her too, turning her to face her. "You're not a criminal." Veronica states slowly, to make it clear. The blonde doesn't know how to respond to that, because that isn't the truth. She just gives a simple, small nod and they continue their walk.

"Why did Emily call you Vivian?"

"Don't ask."

Emily sits with Spencer, Aria and Hanna, watching some movie about time travel - she stopped paying attention a while ago, to be honest. It really irks Emily that Spencer hasn't invited Alison to join them - when she's only in town for the weekend. She knows that Spencer isn't that sentimental or- whatever, but this is a whole new level of rudeness. She watches Spencer for a moment - her eyes squint curiously.

"What?" Spencer questions her in an agitated manner. Aria and Hanna discretely (or so they think) pay attention, then exchange intrigued, subtle smirks (again, not so subtle). "It's just.. I find it weird that you haven't invited your cousin to hang out, when she's only in town for the weekend. Shouldn't you-" Spencer's eyes flash with fury and her brows raise - as if insulted by her remark. "My cousin? She told you that?!" Spencer yells, jumping up from the bed in anger. "Your cousin's here?" Hanna asks, baffled. "I don't understand." Emily admits, stumped. "She's one of my mom's clients." Spencer rants, groaning and stomping her feet. "I can't believe her, you know?"

"Wait, hold on.. So, she isn't your cousin?" Hanna asks. Spencer responds by blinking and scrunching her face up in disgust. "No!" She yells dramatically. "Then I don't understand.. Why is she staying with you?" Emily wonders. "Her mom kicked her out- her brother tried to rob a house and she was there or something." Spencer reveals, followed by another groan. In all honesty, it makes Emily feel bad for Alison, and makes her feel kind of pissed off towards Spencer. "I mean, you have to feel for her- her mom kicked her out." Aria sympathies, causing Spencer to snicker harshly. "You're kidding me, right?" She asks in disbelief. "No. I think that it's really shitty of her mom to throw her out. No one deserves that." Emily spits, shutting down Spencer's dramatics.

No one speaks after that, but Spencer's face does; she bites her gums and taps her fingers on her lap every now and then, until she stops. If Emily knows Spencer at all - and she thinks she might come close - it's a sign that she's feeling remorse.

Emily considers excusing herself to get a glass of water, but she doesn't. She considers going downstairs to say hello, but she doesn't.

Instead, she just pretends to watch movies.

They walk through the garden and towards the eery looking barn, but when they walk inside, it's like a whole different world; there's a king sized bed; a fully furnished living area; a kitchen area and a bathroom. She feels like she's overstepping, like she doesn't belong. This barn is more comfortable than the house that she's lived in all of her life and she doesn't think that she's worthy of it, at all.

"So, this is where you'll be staying." Veronica tells her, though Alison already figured. Alison tries to form words, but words are impossible right now, all she can do blink back tears. "Thank you." She whispers to Veronica, who smiles warmly at her. "Help yourself to anything, the tv works and there's wifi- there's towels in the wardrobe, if you want to go for a shower or a bath. Make yourself comfortable." Alison nods at her and feels her lips tug upward into a huge smile. "I'll see you tomorrow." Veronica tells her. Alison responds, "Goodnight."

Once alone, she takes the opportunity clean herself and heads for the bathroom, what she doesn't expect to find is a round tub and a separate shower cubicle. She begins to question how much money Veronica makes, because this is without a doubt, a luxury. If the barn is this fancy, she can't begin to imagine what the main house is like.

She removes her bag from her shoulder and crouches before placing it on the floor. She opens it and searches for her shower contents, which sit at the front. Once discarded, she gets up, switches the shower on and begins to strip; shimmying out of her jeans first, then her shirt. She steps into the cubicle, letting out a content sigh when she feels the warm water hit her skin. Alison starts scrubbing - like she's covered in dirt - but she's not. It's inexplicable, it makes no sense, but she's desperate to feel clean - to wipe away her history and begin again.

Spencer sneaks downstairs at one in the morning, to steal alcohol from her father's secret hideout spot (the second draw of his desk), after all, it's not like he's coming back for it anytime soon. He's too busy shacking up with his new squeeze in Ravenswood. Spencer and her sister Melissa have accepted it and moved on, but Veronica still hangs on to the possibility that someday, he'll come home. Hence why she wont convert his study into something else. It's tragic, really, but also kind of infuriating that she wont cut ties.

Spencer get's as far as the downstairs hallway, until-

"What's the matter with you?" Her mother snaps, startling Spencer so much that she yelps. She regains her composure, then looks to the living area, where her mother sits in the arm chair wearing an unimpressed glare on her face. "Jesus, Mom. Was that necessary?" Spencer snaps, stepping closer. Veronica stands. "Was your attitude earlier necessary?" Her mother argues, moving closer to her daughter so that they're face to face. "How did you expect me to react? You brought home an ex con." Spencer yells, barging past her mother. "For goodness sakes, Spencer."

"Am I wrong?" Spencer challenges, staring her mother in the eye. "Yes." Veronica answers. Spencer's expression falters and it turns perplexed. "Her brother forced her into it." She reveals. Spencer's demeanor changes and her face is painted with regret and guilt, just like she feels. "I sent her mother a text just now, letting her know that Alison is safe- that I could bring her back tomorrow and mediate. She told me to- 'keep her'." Spencer falls onto the couch, nearby and lets out a ragged sigh. "I had no idea." She says truthfully. Veronica nods, understanding but still stern.

"Well, you do now. So maybe, try being more welcoming, she's had a rough couple of days." Veronica tells her, though it sounds more like an order. Her mother then gets up and storms out out of the room. Spencer sits alone and thinks over what her mother said and feels the never ending guilt wash over her.

Emily sits by the window, to get away from Aria and Hanna, who annoyingly start talking about their crushes. It's been nothing but 'Caleb' this and 'Jake' that for twenty minutes. She knows that it's only a matter of time before they start to ask her about Toby Cavanaugh - the only guy friend that she has, who everybody assumes that she's dating - because he's a boy, and because she's a girl. She's tried telling them over and over again, 'it's just platonic' and 'they're just friends' but every time she does that, they make high pitched 'woo' sounds, and it's infuriating. She feels so blessed to be crashing at Spencer's tonight, because if there's anyone who hates this talk more than her? It's Spencer.

And she can always count on her to shut it down.

If she ever returns, that is.

Emily gazes out the window at the sky, admiring the stars - until a flicker of light from below catches her attention.

It's the barn.

It occurs to Emily that that's where Alison must be staying and suddenly - she can't look away, especially when she notices that the curtains are open, granting her eyes full access to the living area and bedroom. She doesn't feel guilty about it until Alison emerges from the bathroom, wearing just a towel. She feels her body tense immediately and her breath is taken away - literally. She has to physically avert her glance, in order to breathe again; sucking in a gasp. She looks to see if her friends heard the gasp, but luckily, they're so engrossed in their talk to notice. Emily clenches her jaw, trying her best to stomp the urge to turn her attention back to the barn, but the curiosity gets the better of her. She gazes down, once more, but this time;

Alison looks back.

She's stood close to the window, watching her with a small, smug smirk - as if to say 'gotcha'. Emily looks away again, feeling caught (though, she can't talk), trying to refrain herself from glancing back - it doesn't work. Her gaze is drawn to her and she does it again. Alison still stands there; it's like she knew that Emily would cave.

There's something about the way the blonde watches her; her eyes are dark, daring and almost primal. Emily's jaw is slacked and her lips are dry and realization dawns on her - she's positively hungry for Alison. For her.-

She looks away, panicked when she realizes where her mind was going. She decides to lock her inner turmoil in a box, to ignore that feeling beginning to resonate at the pit of her stomach - to forget.

She looks down one last time and Alison's gone.

When the bedroom door opens, Spencer re-emerges, empty handed, much to Aria and Hanna's dismay. "Where's the booze?" Aria asks her. Spencer shrugs, then collapses on the bed. "Rain check." She speaks, the steel in her voice is obvious and nobody questions her further. "Bed?" Hanna suggests. Everyone in the room agrees and prepare their designated spots; Spencer and Aria share the bed; Emily and Hanna share the floor.

Emily doesn't sleep much that night and she refuses to let herself think about that particular blonde, asleep in the barn.

Alison looks up one last time, but comes to accept that the girl will not be returning. She thinks about the expression on Emily's face, when she was watching her; her hooded eyes, flickering with confliction and desire - it made her body tingle and her stomach flip with excitement, but she chooses to dismiss it.

There should be only one thing on her mind, and that's finding a place to live.

Alison stirs and slowly wakes up. She grunts and checks the time on her phone. 11.00am. This is possibly the longest lie in that she's had in years and she's never felt more refreshed. She pulls herself out of bed and goes into her bag, choosing out clothes to wear. To her dismay, she wasn't able to bring all of her clothes (she had a fair few). She changes into an simple outfit, consisting of black skinny jeans and a yellow top. She analyzes her reflection in the mirror and decides against the yellow top and trades it for a red one instead. Once dressed and happy, she leaves the barn and warily wonders towards the house, debating whether or not to enter. She feels awkward, welcome and intrusive all at once, it's a weird way to feel. She braces herself before reluctantly opening the door and entering, into the living room. The first thing she sees is Spencer, who's sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal. When Spencer notices her, Alison swears that she sees her flinch - ever so slightly.

"Hey." Alison greets, in an attempt to patch things up and make things less uncomfortable. It's clear that Spencer's wary of her, she felt it the moment they walked past each other. "Uh, hi." Spencer responds crossing her arms and sitting upright. It feels like a test and Alison isn't sure how to pass it. "I'm Alison." Spencer sucks her lips in before speaking. "I know." Alison slowly steps over to the kitchen - and Spencer sucks in an sharp breath, rolling her eyes. "I'm Spencer." She speaks confidently, with a slight falter in her voice. Spencer holds her head up high and eyes her up - Alison isn't sure if it's intimidating or positive, whatever it is - it makes her uneasy. "I know." Alison speaks, repeating what Spencer said just a moment ago. "Cereal?" She offers, picking up the cereal box next to her and flashing her a warm smile. Alison hesitates momentarily before sitting on the stool opposite her. After a moment, the bad air surrounding them becomes more bearable. Still intense, but bearable.

"Where are you from?" The brunette asks quizzically. "Ravenswood." Alison reveals. Spencer's eyes widen slightly at the town name - which Alison notes - then whistles, pushing her breakfast to one side. "That's rough." Alison hums, agreeing with the girl. "Same could be said, about Rosewood." At this, Spencer leans back from her upright position into a more relaxed one; an impressed grin forms on her mouth. "Let me guess, you're referring to the Drake incident?" Spencer queries, getting a nod from the blonde.

"You talking about the whole stalker thing?" A blonde girl asks excitedly, waltzing into the room. She introduces herself, "I'm Hanna." She grins widely, going to the fridge and grabbing the orange juice and turning, so that she's next to Spencer. "I'm Alison."

"Nice to meet you. You know, his lair is just ten minutes away, if you want us to show you it? It's like, super freaky." Hanna offers - Alison doesn't think she's met anyone so capable of making a dark thing sound so positive. Spencer scoffs and grabs the orange juice from her, topping up her glass. "That wasn't his lair, Hanna. His lair was in the city." Spencer argues. Hanna snatches the bottle back and Alison senses that this is about to turn into a debate. "Then explain the creepy dolls that are still there." Hanna demands. Spencer defends, "Obviously, it was kids trying to freak people out, Han."

"That's what they told the Drake's, but it turned out to be real-" Someone else speaks, entering the room. "Well, doll obsessed stalker slash murderer's are very rare to come across in Rosewood, Aria."

Alison struggles to keep up as they try to debunk each other's theories - resulting in Alison deciding not to keep track. After a few minutes go by, she finds herself wondering where Emily is - wondering if she freaked her out the previous night. "Where is Emily, anyway?" She hears Hanna ask, earning a shrug from Aria. "She left earlier, said she had things to do." Spencer reveals, whilst mimicking quotation marks with her fingers. "That's not like her." Aria states, causing Alison's stomach to drop.

She can't help but feel responsible.

Emily observes the mess across the kitchen. There's flour on the floor, butter across the counter and an empanada on the wall - which she threw out of frustration. She bakes when she's stressed out, even though she's not very good at it. Last time this happened, her father was packing to go back to work for the army and on that occasion, she baked a hundred empanada's. Today?

She baked fifty.

Deep down, she knows why, but she decides not to dwell - it occurs to her that she has not done a very good job of that. A gasp prompts Emily to turn around - she's greeted by her mother, Pam eyes the kitchen with an unimpressed, but worried glance. She then faces her daughter.

"Emmy.." She speaks, apprehensive. Emily shrugs and pouts, rolling her eyes in defeat. "What's wrong?" She asks her. Emily lets out a light scoff and shrugs again. "Nothing, I just felt like baking." She lies, blatantly. Pam walks over to her daughter with a warm smile and places a hand on her shoulder, looking at the surfaces and letting out a sigh. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here." Pam reassures. "Thank you." Emily breaths out, resting her head on her mothers hand.

"What are we going to do with all this?" Pam asks her daughter, letting out a chuckle. Emily contemplates that for a moment, then comes to a conclusion.

"I'll bring a few over to Spencer's."

Alison's jaw has been hanging open for thirty seconds and her mind feels perplexed.

"They- The body- Was in your backyard?" Alison asks, voice slightly skeptical. "Yep. Crazy, right?" Hanna says. Your telling me, Alison thinks. Yawning echoes from the hallway and a tired Veronica Hastings emerges, looking between the group of girls in shock. She tells them, "Good morning." The girls greet her back, as Veronica walks over to the coffee machine. "It's nice to see you girls getting along." Veronica says, with an obvious double meaning to it. "Yeah." Spencer agrees, flashing Alison a small smile. "How was the barn, Alison? Was it alright?"

"Yeah, it was great, slept like a baby. Thank you." Alison tells her. It's an understatement - she feels like she's slept for the first time in years. "Glad to hear. Well, help yourself to anything. I have to get to the office, but- maybe Spencer could give you a tour of the town?" She suggests, giving Spencer a pleading glance. "Sounds like a plan." Spencer replies.

"Great. See you ladies later." Veronica says, popping the lid on her takeaway coffee cup

As she exits the kitchen, into the hallway, Emily enters with a box in her hands, gaining a quizzical look from Veronica as she leaves. "Emily." She greets, glancing between the empanada's and Emily curiously. "Hey, Mrs Hastings. Empanada?" She offers the woman, who politely shakes her head. "No thanks." Veronica continues walking and Emily can already hear Spencer say "What the hell is that smell?" It knocks her already very slim baking confidence. Slowly, she walks into the room and pouts pathetically - she spots Alison and feels a rush of embarrassment, partly because of last night and partly because the girl is about to find out how weird that she really is.

"Wow Em.." Spencer greets, eyeing the empanada's with an impressed but low-key concerned expression. "Is everything- alright?" She adds. Alison looks between them and the food, puzzled. "What's up?" Alison speaks up. "She bakes when she's nervous about something and most of the time, it's empanada's." Hanna reveals. Alison finds that weirdly adorable and admirable - it makes her heart flutter - unnecessarily. Emily blinks at Spencer, who just looks back blankly and places the box in front of her. "Want one?" Emily offers them. Spencer sucks her lips in, so that they form a straight line and throws her friend an apologetic look. "I promise that these ones wont make you sick." She swears, though it doesn't change her mind. Alison, however, grabs one and warily bites into it. She moans appreciatively and glances at Emily.

"It's really good." She compliments, though seriously speaking - it's not appetizing, at all. she just doesn't have it in her to tell her the truth. It's all worth it though because a wide grin of pride slides up Emily's face and Alison is willing to do this over and over, especially if she continues to get this result. Spencer looks between them with an arched brow, almost as if she's sussing something out - it's unsettling. Especially when Aria and Hanna exchange a look of raised eye brows and surprised pouts.

"So, what do you think of Rosewood?" Aria asks. Alison's grateful when Spencer's stops looking between her and Emily. "I'm gonna go get dressed." Spencer announces suddenly, leaving the kitchen and also leaving Alison feel stumped. "I like it. It's got a mystery about it. More interesting than back home." Alison tells them honestly. Emily laughs lightly at this, shaking her head. "There's more to Rosewood than the mystery, there's a lot to see. You should check it out." She suggests, taking a seat on the stool next to Alison. "I'm sure there is." Alison smirks, watching Emily's demeanor gradually turn from confident more timid. Alison takes another bite of the pastry before continuing, but Hanna beats her to it. "We're giving her the grand tour this afternoon, if you wanna come with?" Hanna offers Emily. The girls eyes light up and her lips tug upwards. "I'm in."

It's a terrible idea, and Alison knows it;

Letting herself crush on a girl that she barely knows - a girl she wont know in three days from now.