a/n: so most of you probablyy don't remember me due to my extended absence from this site-school and family and life really got in the way and i truly am sorry. buuut i am back now and starting a new oneshot series, so i hope you all enjoy :)

also: for those of you interested, an update for my au spoby story, set the dark on fire, will be coming soon.

and as always, i love reading your reviews. they make my day. thanks.

-Ana

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fragments of you and me

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the missing moments of Spencer and Toby's love story, in oneshots.

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one: firelight

"What's it like to run away?"

She doesn't mean to ask the question; it just pops out of her mouth. Running away, escaping the mess that is her life is something she's only ever secretly fantasized about. It's something she'd never have mentioned to her family, obviously, or even her friends. But with him, somehow, it feels...safe.

"Cold," he responds. "Haven't you ever run away?"

She looks into the fire, fizzling in the hearth and washing the room in a warm glow. "Once. I think I was seven." She shrugs. "My sister and I had a fight and my parents took her side." They almost always did, she continues silently.

"What were you fighting about?" His voice is gentle. It occurs to her that she's never heard a voice so soothing.

"Some great injustice, I don't remember now," she lets out a short laugh. "But they took her side, so I packed a tuna salad sandwich, and I ran away."

"Where did you go?" He can see that she's lost in the memory, and that it's one she hasn't thought of in a long time.

"The movies." she smiles, though there's little humor in it. "It was something animated. There was a princess," she continues, "and everybody was singing. And I got lonely." She pauses. "So I ate my tuna salad sandwich, and I went home."

"Were your parents worried?"

When she replies, her voice is the smallest he's ever heard it. "They didn't even know I was gone."

And he doesn't know what to say. He knows her family life is shaky. He remembers her sardonic comment to him when she'd dropped him off at the motel: "The House of Hastings isn't exactly my safe place to land right now." He understands; his family isn't a Hallmark card either. But he can't imagine Peter and Veronica forgetting about her altogether. How can parents overlook their own child? Especially one who was so smart, so caring, so beautiful?

Telling him a story like that, he realizes, probably wasn't easy for her, for a girl so used to being strong and in charge. And seeing her when her vulnerabilities surfaced makes his heart break, although he also feels honored that she trusts him enough to be the one she shared it with.

"Hey," he says after a moment. "Do me a favor."

She looks up at him, and he feels that flutter in his stomach, the same foreign pull he's been inflicted with since the day she showed up on his porch clutching a French workbook. "What?"

"If you ever get the urge to run away again, call me first. Okay?"

She smiles then, a real smile. One that makes his heart thump faster. "Okay."

Gently, he takes her hand, and she links her fingers through his. Looking down at their entwined hands, she marvels at how they seem to fit so perfectly together, as if they were meant to be held by only the other. They sit for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, gazing into the fire.

They haven't discussed the kiss they'd shared outside the motel. What exactly are they? Toby wonders. Not friends, no, they've crossed that line. But they aren't a couple either, as far as he's certain.

He glances back over at the brunette, studying her profile. Long, soft mahogany curls; big, intelligent brow eyes; slim, willowy figure. A sharp tongue, razor-sharp wit, a bottomless well of compassion. He may have only 'officially' known Spencer Hastings for a short time, but already he can see there's more to her than her preppy blazers and 4.0 GPA, her sprawling estate and SAT scores.

"Why are you staring at me?" He's startled from his thoughts by the sound of her voice, as she peers at him with a smile tugging at the corners of those plump lips, one eyebrow winged up.

"You're beautiful," he answers truthfully, and prays he's not blushing when her smile widens slightly.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No, just the ones whose asses I kick at Scrabble," He grins when her smile is replaced by a scowl.

"I told you. It was not a complete ass-kicking. You won by what? Ten points?"

"You're not used to losing, are you?" He's amused, and she knows it.

Just as she knows there's only one way to wipe that smirk off his face.

"Who says I lost?" And then her lips are on his.

To say he's taken by surprise is an understatement. All he can think to do is kiss her back, fire burning between them just as poignantly as it burns in the hearth.

The kiss is only a few seconds, but he's dazed and breathless when he pulls back. "Is it too forward to tell you I've been thinking about that all night?"

She flashes him that smile again. "What, kissing me? No. I've been thinking about it, too."

He can't think of what to say, and she can't help but admit to herself that the totally taken aback look on his face is adorable. "I've been thinking, and...I'd like it if you stuck around."

Now he smiles too, and she sees those baby blue eyes light up. "I was planning on it."

He reaches for her hand again, and she gives his a quick squeeze. "You know, when the cops showed up to go through my stuff, all I could think was, what goes around comes around." She shakes her head. "Now I know what it feels like, to be accused of something like that. To have people think I did something like that when I didn't. And I feel like I deserve it, for saying what I said about you. For thinking, even for a minute, that you-"

"No. Spencer. Look at me." When she does, he feels an ache at the misery in her eyes. "You don't deserve this. And anyone who believes that you're capable of hurting Alison, or anyone else, is insane."

She smiles slightly. "If I were you, I wouldn't have forgiven me when I showed up on your porch."

He brushes a strand of silky hair behind her ear. "I'm really glad you did. Show up on my porch."

"And I'm really glad you have a heart of gold and forgave me."

They sit in silence for a few more minutes before he speaks again. "It's getting late. I should probably go."

"Yeah." Reluctantly, she untangles herself from him, rising to walk him to the door.

"I'll call you," he tells her as he shrugs into his jacket.

"I'll answer." She rises up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. For being here."

He smiles, "Anytime. Goodnight, Spencer."

"Goodnight."

And with one final look, brimming with words that didn't need to be spoken, he leaves.

Standing alone in her kitchen, Spencer looks down at her hand, the hand that still burns from Toby's touch.

She might be a person of interest in her best friend's murder, with a psychopath stalking her and a real killer living in her backyard.

But right then? She is thinking of something else.

Something that she hopes is a new beginning.