Chapter Text
You’re fine, Ali tells herself, taking another glance in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. You’ve done this before. It’s all the same.
“Kriegs?” HAO calls, knocking on the door. “You okay?”
“Fine!” she says, swinging open the door. “Does this look okay?” After trying on practically everything in her suitcase—twice—she'd settled on a loose silk purple blouse and black shorts that aren't too tight or short but do a tremendous job of showcasing her killer ass and legs.
“Are you kidding?” HAO asks. “You look hot. She’s not going to be able to resist.”
“No, I don’t want to look like I’m trying for that,” Ali groans. “I need to change.”
“No, stop,” HAO says. “Relax. It’s Ashlyn. Just have fun. Who cares?” She puts her hands on her shoulders to get Ali to look at her instead of the mirror behind her. “I’m leaving now, please try to chill out a little? If you need me, text me. Use code words if you have to.” She hugs Ali, who stiffens, and HAO laughs.
There’s a knock on the door, and HAO pulls back, smiling. “I can get it, or…”
“No,” Ali says, turning to the door. She knows she’s being a little ridiculous. She opens the door, taking a big breath, but she visibly deflates when she sees Abby at the door.
“Nice to see you too, Kriegs,” Abby says. “HAO, you ready?” She leans back to look down the hall. “She’s just as jumpy as you, Harris, might as well just do it already.”
Ali follows her gaze and sees Ashlyn lurking not far down the hall, glaring at Abby. “Hey,” she says, and Ashlyn smiles, almost guiltily.
“And that’s our cue,” HAO says, brushing past Ali. She and Abby wave goodbye at Ashlyn as they pass her, and Ashlyn is suddenly face-to-face with Ali.
“Hey,” Ashlyn says. “You look amazing.”
“So do you,” Ali says, not sure how to greet her. A handshake would be absolutely ridiculous, and a kiss is not on the menu, so she settles for an awkward hug, not sure of the last time they tried to hug just as friends. “This is stupid, right? We shouldn’t be nervous.”
“I’m always nervous around you,” Ashlyn says.
“Liar,” Ali says. “You’ve always been way too smooth for your own good.”
“I’ve never gotten any complaints from you,” Ashlyn fires back, and it would almost feel back to normal, if it weren’t so weird. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” Ali says, grabbing her room key.
They aren’t going far, just down to the hotel restaurant where they can hopefully find a table alone. They texted a little bit when Ashlyn found out she was called up for the camp, facing the reality that eventually Ali would be joining and they’d have to face the facts. Ashlyn had been on edge waiting for Ali to show up, avoiding the subject like the plague any time she came up with the other girls. It only made it worse that at meals, if Ali’s name came up the whole table would go quiet and five or six pairs of eyes would suddenly be on Ashlyn.
When Ashlyn first suggested they get together whenever Ali got there, she suggested ordering room service to her room so they’d have some privacy and could talk out the messy, awkward stuff. She knew exactly when Ali landed, when she got to the hotel, so she had been on edge until they finally saw each other at a team meeting. They had sort of nodded and smiled from across the conference room, but Ali sat with Carli and Hope, mostly because she figured Ashlyn would be sitting with Whitney and Tobin and the rest of their UNC crew, which of course she did.
When they finally spoke after the meeting, it was on the way to the elevator as they lagged behind the rest of the girls. Nobody had dared turn around to sneak a glance, though Alex had come the closest before Cheney smacked her arm. Ashlyn had asked if Ali still wanted to meet up, and Ali said yes, but she didn’t think the room was a good idea. Nothing more had to be said. Ashlyn understood. So the hotel restaurant it is.
On the way there, they don’t talk about anything of substance, just how Ali’s flight was—long, bumpy, but not the worst, how she’s handling jet lag—it hasn’t hit her yet, maybe she’s getting used to it, and how training has been—ass-kicking, but fun.
When they finally settle into a dark corner booth, Ashlyn folds her hands together on the table, leaning on her forearms toward Ali. “So,” she says. “This is weird.”
“Yeah,” Ali says, letting out a breath. “I wish it weren’t.”
“At least we can admit it,” Ashlyn says. “The rest of the girls want to act like nothing happened.”
“Would you rather they talk about it?” Ali laughs, but she’s kind of genuinely curious.
“Of course not,” Ashlyn says. “I guess what bothers me is that they act like it’s taboo and try to avoid talking about you at all. Like they’re pretending you don’t exist for my sake. Which is stupid, because I’m happy you exist. I want to talk about you. Not like, I want to talk about you, but I just don’t want to pretend you never happened.”
“I happened?” Ali asks.
“We happened,” Ashlyn says. “You happened to me.”
“You’re still happening to me,” Ali says, a little quieter, averting her eyes. “I mean—just, this sucks, right? Like, we aren’t good at being exes.”
Ashlyn has to chuckle. It’s true. They haven’t gone more than a few days without talking since breaking up, mostly because Ashlyn will see something pink that reminds her of Ali, and whatever is supposed to stop her from texting her because they aren’t together anymore fails. And Ali will have a bad day and need a laugh from Ashlyn, and whatever is supposed to make her feel like she shouldn’t be vulnerable with someone who hurt her so badly just doesn’t come through.
“Why should we be exes?” Ashlyn asks. “We started as friends, why can’t we still be friends?”
“Because—” Ali starts, but she can’t put words to her reasons without feeling silly.
“Because we slept together?” Ashlyn asks. “Because you’ve seen me naked? Because honey, everyone on the team has seen me naked.”
“It’s different,” Ali says, blushing.
“Because I’m the first woman you’ve been intimate with?” Ashlyn asks, and it sounds like she’s trying to intimidate Ali, but Ali knows she isn’t. She’s genuinely trying to get to the bottom of it. “What is it for you, Al? Because I know what it is for me.” Ali looks up, a sign that she should continue. “It’s not an option to just be friends because I’m in love with you.”
“Don’t say that,” Ali says, feeling her heart break into a million pieces again. If Ashlyn were in love with her, she wouldn’t have let her go without a fight.
“I’m not just saying it,” Ashlyn says. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, why I can’t let you go, and that’s what it is.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t mean things have to be different, but if I know why I can’t be your friend, at least I can fix it. If you don’t know why you can’t be mine, we’re kind of at a standstill.”
“Because I don’t want to be,” Ali says. “I can’t stand being in a room with you and not being right next to you or at least not having the promise that when we’re alone it’ll make up for it. And it scares me to think that I don’t have any claim over you. Not that—that’s not why I lo—that’s not why.”
Ali’s control issues had been a huge part of the break-up, and they both know it. Sometimes Ashlyn felt like Ali was only with her as some sort of power move and some level of comfort while she was in Germany, and Ashlyn isn’t one to hide her feelings. Ali, in turn, took Ashlyn’s concerns to mean that Ashlyn didn’t trust that her feelings were real, and it all went back to Ali’s insecurities in the relationship. No amount of tearful conversations with Kyle or late-night Skype sessions with Ashlyn could make Ali believe she was something more to Ashlyn, and her defensive reaction was to act like it didn’t mean much to her either.
Eventually, Ashlyn was tired. She was tired of Ali’s resistance to commitment and her refusal to admit that maybe, just maybe, it had to do with the fact that Ashlyn is a woman. Whether her fears were legitimate or not, Ashlyn had trouble believing that Ali would be this hesitant to be in a relationship with a man.
After a particularly messy fight over a shitty wireless connection, they called it quits. It wasn’t as much a Ross and Rachel “we were on a break” situation because neither of them had been sure what their relationship was to begin with. Ali had gone on dates, Ashlyn had flirted shamelessly on nights out, and both loathed that the other looked at anyone. Looking back on it, they both realized how stupid and hypocritical they were, but neither was willing to admit it.
Certainly, though, the next morning when Ali called Ashlyn and an unfamiliar voice answered, Ali was shattered. Ashlyn failed to see how she had done anything wrong when Ali had kissed several people while they were… whatever they were, but Ali wouldn’t budge. She didn’t want to hear from Ashlyn, speak to her, and least of all see her. She was in for a rude awakening a few days later when the roster for training camp came out and Ashlyn was on it.
Only now is Ali willing to admit perhaps she overreacted, and only now is Ashlyn willing to concede that not only should she maybe not have slept with someone so quickly, but also that she felt horrible about it from start to finish. And only now are they getting the chance to say those things out loud to each other, face to face. And yet, the table is silent.
“I’m sorry,” Ali says at the same time Ashlyn says “I fucked up.” They both laugh at themselves.
“Thank God,” Ashlyn says. “I think we both needed that.”
“Definitely,” Ali agrees. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it for weeks.”
“That was good,” Ashlyn says. “We’re fine. We’re good.”
And just like that, the pressure is off. They both relax visibly, settling into their usual rapport, joking and teasing and—dare they say it—flirting. When the check comes, Ashlyn reaches for it out of habit. Ali gives her a look, but Ashlyn just smiles.
“You can get dessert later,” Ashlyn says.
Even though Arizona is much warmer than the rest of the world—especially Germany—right now, Ali finds herself shivering when she steps into the air outside, probably a combination of the November evening and Ashlyn’s hand brushing hers.
“Are you cold?” Ashlyn asks, not able to offer a coat or anything because she didn’t come prepared. “Do you want to go inside?”
“No,” Ali says. “It’s nice out. Germany is freezing, so this is amazing.”
“I wish we could go walk on the beach,” Ashlyn says. “But it turns out there aren’t exactly any bodies of water around here.”
“I miss that,” Ali says. “Remember our nights on the beach where we could hold hands because it was pitch black and nobody was paying attention?”
“Yeah, and how you thought you could kiss me but then Pinoe turned around and almost caught us with the flashlight?” Ashlyn laughs. “I thought you were going to pee your pants.”
“I think I did,” Ali says. “I’m glad we don’t have to hide it anymore. I mean, I’m glad we didn’t. You know.”
“Yeah,” Ashlyn says, and it’s quiet again. “You know, there is one body of water nearby.” She turns a corner on the path, and Ali follows without questioning. She’s not sure if that will ever change. Ashlyn leads her until they reach the pool, which is eerily quiet and deserted, not a huge surprise given that it’s nearly 11 and neither one of them knows where the time has gone.
Ashlyn opens the gate for Ali and follows her in, slipping off her flip flops to dip her toes in the water. She sits at the edge of the pool, but Ali lingers behind, as if she’s still deciding whether it’s worth taking her shoes off. Eventually, she decides it is, settling in beside Ashlyn. Their bodies are so close now, but they don’t touch, and neither one wants to break the peaceful silence.
Ali is the first to give, leaning her head so it’s resting on Ashlyn’s shoulder. Ashlyn feels a spark like an electric shock where she makes contact, and she stays as still as possible, almost as if she thinks if she moves, Ali will suddenly think better of what she’s done.
“I miss you every day,” Ali murmurs, and Ashlyn wonders if she’s heard her correctly. “When I’m making dinner or cleaning the house, it’s too quiet without having you on Skype with me. When I’m going to bed, I want someone to say goodnight to.”
“You can call me, Alex,” Ashlyn says gently. “I’ve never stopped being there for you.”
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” Ali says, and there it is. Ashlyn turns to meet Ali’s eyes, and she’s not looking back at her expectantly, but gazing at the water, as if she’s just surmising. As if she doesn’t understand the magnitude of what she’s said. But Ashlyn knows she does.
“I love you too, Al,” Ashlyn whispers, and that’s when Ali’s attention is piqued.
“Then why?” Ali asks. “Why are we doing this?”
“Doing what?” Ashlyn asks, but she knows.
“Pretending we don’t love each other,” Ali says. “Pretending we can get on just fine on our own. Pretending we can be friends. Pretending I haven’t wanted to kiss you from the second I saw you earlier today and every moment since.”
“All you had to do was ask, princess,” Ashlyn says. She lifts Ali’s head with her hand, gently tilting up her chin to catch the all-too-familiar lips she’s missed so much. The last time she kissed Ali, she hadn’t known it would be the last time. She’d taken it for granted. She’ll never make that mistake again.
It doesn’t last long, but their lips remain barely touching as Ashlyn rests her forehead against Ali’s, eyes closed. They breathe slowly, silently, until Ali giggles. She fucking giggles.
Ashlyn’s eyes fly open and she pulls away from Ali. “What?” she asks. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Ali says. “Just—thank God you did that. I don’t know how long I could have gone.”
“I’ve been seeing someone,” Ashlyn confesses, and Ali’s demeanor changes completely.
“I noticed,” she says. “I was hoping I was wrong.”
Ashlyn knows she’s referring to flirtatious tweets and Facebook posts—it didn’t get past her that Ali had deleted her as a friend and unfollowed her on Twitter and Instagram; in fact, she unfollowed right back.
“It’s not serious,” Ashlyn says. “I think more than anything I just… maybe I wanted you to notice.”
“Were you trying to make me jealous?” Ali asks, and there’s a teasing tone in her voice, but Ashlyn knows she’s genuinely curious, and she just shrugs in response.
“Did it work?” Ashlyn says, a smile spreading across her face slowly. Suddenly, Ali stands up, and Ashlyn doesn’t know what she’s done wrong, leaping to her feet. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I want to go swimming,” Ali says.
“I didn’t bring my suit,” Ashlyn says.
“Neither did I,” Ali says, smirking. She maintains eye contact with Ashlyn as she takes her blouse off, tantalizingly slow, before tossing it to the side. Ashlyn wouldn’t be particularly scandalized usually—it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before—but Ali is wearing a lacy bra that she’s never seen before, a bra that only gets worn in order to be seen, and Ashlyn knows. This was always going to happen. Ali unbuttons her shorts, shimmying them down her legs and kicking them away. “Are you going to join me or am I going in alone?” Ali asks.
Ashlyn makes quick work of ridding herself of her clothes, kicking herself for not planning better. By the time she’s finished, Ali is on the top step of the pool clad only in lingerie, easing herself into the heated water. “Ali, stop,” Ashlyn says, putting her hands on her hips. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Do what?” Ali asks. “And I’m not doing it alone.”
Ashlyn sighs, and Ali wonders if she really did misread the entire evening, down to what could have just been a closure kiss. “I can’t let you ruin what looks like an incredibly expensive lingerie set by getting in the pool with it,” she says, and she makes her meaning obvious when she reaches behind herself to unclasp her own bra. “Don’t be shy.”
Ali’s breath catches, but she quickly recovers, stepping back out of the pool to rid herself of her remaining garments. Ashlyn grins, her smile bright with the pool lights reflecting against it, and she takes a running leap into the pool. When she emerges, she nods at Ali. “Your turn, princess.”
Ali follows suit, jumping right to where Ashlyn is, and before she can even come to the surface, Ashlyn’s arms are around her, pulling her close. Their first real kiss in such a long time tastes like chlorine, but it feels like home.
Later, Ali realizes that skinny dipping and making out with another woman, hands all over, is not an Ali Krieger move. At least not the Ali most people are used to. At another time, in another place she may have looked around self-consciously, double and triple checking to make sure nobody was around to see. But Ashlyn makes her reckless. Ashlyn makes her brave. Ashlyn makes her the most genuine, free Ali there is. And if that’s going to be her downfall, so be it.
~
When Ali wakes in the morning, she doesn’t even have to open her eyes to know that the most beautiful sight lies before her. She can hear it in the soft, slow breaths beside her. She can taste it in the memory that the last thing her lips and tongue touched were Ashlyn’s. She can smell it in the vanilla scent of the shampoo she used to inhale after Ashlyn emerged from the shower and was so clean and lovely and only Ali’s for a few precious moments. She can feel it in the arms wrapped firmly around her waist, tight with the fear of letting go, but loose with the trust that the precious cargo they hold will stick around this time. So when she opens her eyes, for the first time in months she’s able to look the day right in the eye and say “bring it on.”