/bold sections are flashbacks
/italics are letter/emphasis/internal thoughts
/Just to be safe I'll put a language warning

"I'll be okay Polly; I am taking a cab. It's not like I'm walking twenty blocks in the dead of night. Besides, the brokers from Goldman Sachs will be here in the next five minutes. I haven't been.. around enough to participate in the meeting, but I am sure you will be fine." Piper gave her best friend's elbow and encouraging squeeze.

"Pipes you've been cutting out at lunch every day since you got back a week ago. Seriously. We checked yesterday and nothing was there." Polly was glad to have her partner back but had been noticing that the blonde was increasingly keeping to herself in her office. She hadn't even introduced herself to the three new employees Polly had hired over the past few months.

"Yes, you are correct Pol. Yesterday nothing was there."

"Good, so you'll sit in on the meeting? It will help bring you up to speed-"

Piper held up her hand and shook her head slowly. "I am going. Try to convince me all you want but we both know it hasn't worked in the past."

Worry laced her friend's voice and Piper felt a twinge of guilt at pressing the issue so much. "Just wait an hour or two. Did you already forget about what happened Monday? We're in New York, Pipes. Someone is going to innocently bump into you again if you don't have someone there to buffer for you. Don't be rash, I just don't want you to have another freak out on the sidewalk again. Half the cops in Queens know your name. Do we really need to add Brooklyn to the mix too?"

Ignoring her best friend's semi-insult, Piper threw on her jacket, "already halfway out the door Pol. I'll see you in a bit."

"Wait!" her friend turned and caught the attention of the closest employee. "Sidney, are you working on something at the moment? Perfect, I have a task for you."

The brunette turned back to Piper who was waiting impatiently in front of the elevator. "Piper, this is Sidney Hunter. Sidney, this is Piper Chapman, my business partner."

"Polly's told me so much about you," Sidney extended her hand to Piper, forcing the blonde to uncross her arms from her previous defensive stance. "It is nice to finally put a face to the name," she continued with a warm smile.

"Pleasure is mine," Piper said dryly, shaking her not-so-new employee's hand.

"Good!" Polly cut in after a moment of silence. "Piper, Sidney is going to accompany you to the Post Office." Polly met Piper's glare head-on. "I think this is a great way for you and Sidney to build a good rapport. Don't you think so Pipes?"

"Of course. A great idea Pol," Piper said tightly, pursing her lips. "We better be going then." Piper turned into the open elevator behind her. Polly rolled her eyes to Sidney and they both shared a smile at the blonde's expense.

L.I.W

Look, it's fine. I was just worried. The only reasons I have lost connection with people in the past were either due to the fuckers overdosing or getting locked up. Since it's obviously neither of those, tell me what this "big thing" is that happened. If you don't want me to tell Vause you have to give me a pretty damn good reason. I'm not one to lie to my best friend, especially when I've never even met the woman who is asking me to lie in the first place. Do you have any idea how hard it is to lie to her? The woman can smell bullshit like a shark smells blood. She's even already grilled my ass on why I've forgiven you so quickly. I haven't entirely, but I am willing to give you a chance to explain. I ended up telling her it was because it had to do with your business expanding and I was in a forgiving mood. I'm not entirely sure she took the bait but I wasn't exactly trying very hard to be convincing, plus I think the fact that I am more relieved than anything that you are still alive and not joining us in this godforsaken place is tipping her off. She brought up your overseas travels too and I guess I didn't contribute enough for the giant's liking. I think she was expecting me to be pissed still. I don't know. I am getting a weird feeling from her since she got back.

Alright look, I know we have grown pretty close and shit, which is why I guess you said I "deserve to know the truth." But still, if you want me to lie I need a fucking good reason.

Nicky Nichols #1024-1299
Federal Department of Corrections
900 Litchfield Avenue
Litchfield, New York 13357

L.I.W.-

Oh for fuck's sake. Really? "Ms. Vause?" Did I frighten you back to formalities now? Seriously woman, "Ms. Vause" is my mother, and as much as I loved her, I don't want to be her. I told you once already to call me Alex. Scream it, moan it, whisper it: I don't really care about the method of delivery. Just stop being so fucking polite all the time. Shit. I'm already forcing the continuation of this communication on you, so what is one more bit of coercion?

"Upset" is an understatement. I was livid. Oddly enough, it wasn't until I finally sat down to write you a letter that I actually became that incensed. Became, become. Was, am. Fuck it, I'm still obviously pissed. Even in the last letter I tried to rein it in and tone it down. But halfway through the levee broke; Led Zeppelin would be so disappointed since we sat there all last night, not that the thoughts did much good. You would think that after listening to Nichols complain about your absence for three whole hours that my eardrums would have been half deafened. It seems that my anger was the one that took it for the team this time. But can you blame me?

So this mysterious business trip: where was it that you had to travel to so urgently? I've done some travelling in my time, perhaps I know a little about where you went. You were not very clear in your letter, seeing as you were there for three months straight. That must have been one bitch of a business deal, considering the fact that I've done intercontinental drug tours that didn't even take that long, and I was dealing with people who would put a bullet in my head without a second thought. Why do you wish it had gone differently?

Whatever you did to make it up to Nicky is working. She's completely shut up about you. When I asked her if she was still pissed off, she said no then dropped the topic Snoop Dog style.(I fucking hate the radio stations we get here, especially when the girls from the Ghetto block decide they don't want to use their goddamn headphones.) It's strange because just the other day she wouldn't shut up about how you were being a cunt just like her much-adored mother. What was it that you did to placate her so quickly? Are you silver tongued now too? Usually it even takes Red longer than that to get through that thick skull of hers. Maybe it is because she has to get through the helmet of hair first.

My feet are fine now. They only cut off the circulation a couple times and typically only when I had to board a plane. I was more concerned with my hands because the assholes constantly locked the cuffs too tightly and it would always chafe around my wrists. Otherwise, I wasn't injured. I didn't get shot, although if looks could kill I would have been dead a hundred times over. Besides, I wasn't petrified simply because a gun was pointed at me. I had been living with an invisible gun muzzle resting on my temple since my first day in the cartel. The main difference is the person who wielded the piece had a fucking rational head on their shoulders so I quickly figured out how to avoid involvement in their game of fucking Russian Roulette. Here, in this fucked up excuse for a correctional system, they put high-powered rifles in the hands of complete fucking idiots. THAT is why I said it was bullshit.

Since we are on the topic of bullshit, I should have you know that I can practically smell it when someone is lying to me. What can I say? It is a gift: I recognize and call people out on their shit whether they want to hear it or not. Hence why no, I wasn't planning on apologizing for telling it like it is. What was it you were trying to deal with on your own? Some poor boy break your heart? You don't think I have been in a similar situation as what you described? I have. Heroin broke my fall. It helped stitch me back together, only it used dissolving stitches that disintegrated way to fucking quickly and thus had to be reapplied again and again.. and again. As you so eloquently put it, "it wasn't one of my best moments."

What was I supposed to think after you had fallen off the face of the damn planet? It is not like Nichols or I could go actively looking for you to see why you stopped responding. How were we to know? At least I had the decency to give you prior warning that I wasn't going to be in contact for a while. I even left Nichols in charge of holding onto anything you might send, although that proved pointless. I essentially had to threaten you before you finally returned our letters. Do you know how pathetic that sounds? Fuck, who would have known Vause, the stone cold heroin importer, would stoop to the level of threatening some lady into continuing conversing with her. And now I am talking about myself in third person. Jesus fuck I'm losing my mind in here.

Yes I give a shit about you. Is it so hard to imagine that a convict can care about something? If the backhanded compliment smacked some sense into you then it did its job. I don't let people get close, that is just not who I am, but somehow you and that mangy-haired midget wormed your way in. She's got my back and keeps me on my toes while your letters distract me from the harsh reality I am forced to confront daily. Last time this ended up happening it blew up epically in my face; that is why letting someone into my life is inconvenient. If this whole thing detonates, the point-blank impact would probably be lethal. For better or for worse, it seems as though you are stuck with me LIW.

-Alex Vause #1975-0425
Federal Department of Corrections
900 Litchfield Avenue
Litchfield, New York 13357

P.S. Your last letter smelled like a load of crap.

Piper looked up from the letter clutched in her hands. Her gaze wandered absently over the searing sun reflecting off the high-rises' glass windows surrounding her. She was glad that she waited until she got back to the office to open the letters. Not only would it have been rude to Sidney to ignore her for the duration of the cab ride, but also Piper wanted to keep these moments for herself. In private she could allow herself to imagine Alex's voice as her eyes scanned across the letters. It was a rare occasion that she heard such an agitated tone from the brunette's mouth. She hated the fact that she was the one to cause the woman to become so disconcerted.

Blue eyes fluttered to the last sentence on the page. What was she going to do? Nicky was right, lying to Alex was akin to swimming with a tri-tip in a shark tank. She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe in the balmy mid-afternoon air before casting her eyes down upon the letter again, reading it for a second time. Piper couldn't help but sigh once she reached the post script. Of course the last letter was crappy, Alex. It's because its author's full of shit.

Author's Note: Fair warning-I might not update for a bit, again. I don't know. Anyone have a decent joke? I could use one.