SO WORTH IT

South of Nowhere One-Shot

A/N: I was so happy that people seemed to like my first South of Nowhere one-shot, titled "Just One Moment", that I decided to try another one. It basically says everything that I wanted to see when the credits came up at the end of the season three finale. I thought the end was perfect in so many ways, but as usual, it simply ended too quickly. Please review, whether you like or dislike it, because I love to see what your reactions and opinions are. Thank you!

Ashley's eyes glazed over when Spencer's nimble fingers loosened and released the belt that secured her trench coat, letting the beige material fall to the floor in a messy heap, the only clothing she was wearing. And then there was Spencer—Spencer Carlin, the girl she was so sure she loved; now, finally, she could admit that both to the naked girl in front of her and to herself—Spencer, glowing and golden, the girl of her dreams. Spencer's smile had rarely been so big as it was then, her blue eyes sparkling with life and hope, her lips unable to conceal a small, satisfied smirk. Ashley had always been the spontaneous one, the rebel, the one who snuck them out of school for a beach day and drove Spencer away into the dark night when she couldn't deal with her parents any more. But now Spencer was the one in control, the one being impulsive, the one showing up at Ashley's door and revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath that trench coat.

No words were needed. Neither girl was the first to make a move. Spencer had initiated their spur-of-the-moment reunion, but when they were on opposite sides of the threshold and Spencer dropped the coat, their lips melded into one, moving at the same rate to meet perfectly in the middle. Spencer's hand naturally held the back of Ashley's head as they kissed, just as Ashley's arm wrapped around Spencer's shoulders, and the two girls just smiled into their kiss, warmed just by being together, by being near each other, by finally being in the same place emotionally and physically so that they could just be. They had dealt with obstacle after obstacle, and finally they were getting the happy quiet they deserved. Spencer broke her lips from Ashley's to allow the brunette to close the door. She watched Ashley watching her, Ashley wearing a cropped tank top and boy shorts combination that made Spencer stare almost as much as Ashley did Spencer's perfect clothes-free form. Ashley followed Spencer into her bedroom in hers and Kyla's loft, and Spencer sat on the edge of the same bed where they'd talked and kissed and spent their first night together. It was in a different room, but the bed held enough memories that that didn't matter. Ashley stood at the door of the room, looking at Spencer unabashedly. She was radiant, her blond hair loose around bare shoulders, legs long and begging to be touched. She was different than she had been when Ashley had met her almost three years ago. She was less naïve, maybe, and more worldly, certainly. She looked different, somehow, too—maybe it was the new experiences that made Ashley look at her in a new way, but there was a different look in her eyes, a different way she smiled. She'd lost weight, Ashley speculated, since she'd arrived in L.A., but not in a bad way; she just looked like she had matured. But all Ashley could think about was the beautiful girl waiting for her on her bed, and the fact that her dream and her fantasy was actually real this time.

"Jesus, Spence," Ashley breathed, floating over towards Spencer, the two girls collapsing side-by-side on the bed, both knowing they had to talk before rushing into things.

"Who would have thought, right?" Spencer laughed, and Ashley knew what she meant. Three years ago she was shy, the new girl from the Midwest who had never thought about the possibility of being gay. And after she had come full circle, through the stages of anger and denial and guilt and sadness and frustration; through the depression that had taken over her sporadically as she tried to deal with her new self; through the tumultuous relationship with Ashley that had been to her both a blessing and a curse. And her circle was complete: she was out, to her friends and her family, and she was willing to say it out loud. She could go to the Gay Pride Festival with her parents by her side. She could speak up for herself, she could decide what she wanted, she could take care of herself, and any inhibitions about her reputation had been cast aside. And here she was, next to the girl who had sparked within her a curiosity and a question from the very beginning, ready to be back in her arms. They had gone through so much already, and no matter how hard Spencer tried to remind herself of the pain and frustration their relationship bestowed upon her, she was constantly reminded of the good times—of the sweet side of Ashley, of their younger days when Ashley explained to her what it meant to be gay, of the dramas they had gone through side by side. And there they were, side by side again, and Spencer knew she would not let Ashley go.

"Remember when we met?" Ashley asked sleepily, walking her fingers slowly up Spencer's arm. The blonde next to her giggled.

"When you basically bitched me out?" Spencer nodded, remembering.

"I apologized!" Ashley reminded her.

"You did," Spencer agreed. "And then I got you to come to that dance."

"First one I ever went to."

"Glen and Aiden beat each other up, remember that?"

"Vaguely," Ashley admitted. "Mostly I remember getting out of my car and seeing you, and knowing somehow. Just knowing."

"I knew, too," Spencer whispered. She turned over onto her side, and looked into the chocolate-brown eyes that belonged to the girl next to her. "I wasn't sure what it meant, but I knew."

They paused, staring at each other and relishing in the quiet peacefulness of just being together. Finally Ashley had to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, Spencer," she said, emphasizing each word, her emotions running wild. "I know I made things hard for you. I hurt you. I can't believe—"

"Ash, stop it," Spencer reprimanded sternly. She got up, kneeling on the bed next to Ashley. "You hurt me a few times, sure. But I hurt you too. This was never a one-way thing. You know that."

"Spence, you were always there for me. Always." Ashley looked up at Spencer, angry at herself for letting herself do this to the girl she loved. "You took me back when I pushed you away. You held me when my dad died. You convinced me that having Kyla around could maybe be a good thing. You always encouraged my music. No one else in my life ever did all of that for me. Just you, Spence. You."

Spencer blushed. There was no denying the words of the brunette next to her. She didn't know what to say; couldn't speak; didn't want to. She gently stroked Ashley's hair, letting her fingers slide down Ashley's cheeks.

"Thank you for helping me stop lying about myself," Spencer said, her voice brimming with truth. "For helping me figure out how to—how to be."

Ashley smiled, reaching up and touching Spencer's face with her hand. "What would you do if I kissed you right now?"

Spencer rolled her eyes and laughed. "What do you think I would do, Ash?"

Ashley complied with what she finally knew Spencer wanted, clutching the blonde girl's face and bringing it down to her level, allowing their lips to find each other. After several minutes of simply exploring each other once again, of remembering who they were and why they were together, Spencer slid a finger into the elastic waistband of Ashley's boy shorts, looking into Ashley's eyes the entire time.

"Spencer Carlin, you're gay?" Ashley whispered jokingly into Spencer's ear.

Spencer thought of the reply she'd given two years earlier. Was she still only gay with Ashley? No, she thought to herself. Her fling with Carmen during the past year had confirmed to her in her mind that Ashley was not the only girl with whom she would have a relationship. At this point, she was definitely gay. But at the same time, she'd come to realize that Ashley was the only person—girl or boy—for her. She was in love with her. Yes, she said in her head. She was in love with Ashley Davies.

"I'm gay," Spencer smiled, nodding. "But the only person I want to be with is you."

Ashley grinned broadly, thinking of how much hardship the pair had gone through before Spencer could fully admit either part of that sentence—the fact that she was gay, and the fact that she wanted to be with Ashley. It wasn't fair, Ashley thought, that besides the typical high school relationship drama and issues, they had a whole additional set of problems just because they were two girls who were fully in love with each other. Why did it have to be so difficult? Why did they have to deal with so much more pain?

These thoughts, however, vanished abruptly from her mind when she felt Spencer's nimble, delicate fingers working their way up her inner thighs. Finally, they could be together—be alone and together—and everything felt right.

"I love you, Ash," Spencer smiled, tears of happiness—genuine happiness—in her eyes. "I really, really love you."

"I love you too, Spence," Ashley grinned, heart melted by Spencer's admission and beating wildly. "I have since I saw you outside that stupid dance. The whole time—I've loved you, always."

Their eyes—wide blue and warm brown—met again in a gaze full of the love they'd had to hide, run away from, fight for, and ignore. And finally their lips were connected once more, hands roaming bodies, moans let out into the quiet darkness of the loft.

Their past had made them what they were, but it didn't matter anymore; it was simply part of the process, and now that they had gotten to their destination, the pain and frustration it had taken to get there all seemed worth it.

So worth it, Ashley thought to herself, as she wrapped her arms tightly and protectively around Spencer as the gorgeous blonde drifted slowly to her first peaceful sleep in a long time. It was so worth it.