Moar Fabrastings, because they're irresistible. Title from the Angus & Julia Stone song. This is going to be a multi-chapter story, and basically a super-huge expansion of my oneshot. Brace yo selves.

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So come on love, draw your swords
Shoot me to the ground
You are mine, I am yours
Let's not fuck around.

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As she heads down the hallway to homeroom, five minutes ahead of schedule, Spencer knows it's going to be a good senior year. She's going to chemistry early so she can sit at her favorite seat, the one at the table in the front row and closest to the window. It gets a nice breeze, it faces the teacher so she doesn't have to keep turning around to see the notes on the board, and she knows for a fact that Mr. Brennan always puts the best equipment at that station.

She's sat in that seat through Environmental Science, AP Biology, and physics, aced every quiz and exam that came her way, and had people practically beg her to let them be her lab partner because they knew she preferred to do everything herself and they could just write their name next to hers on whatever they turned in.

Her bag is loaded with new notebooks, pens, and the brightest highlighters Staples had to offer, and of course, the monstrous chemistry textbook. She cracked it open last night before bed and skimmed chapter one to make sure she had a solid foundation, just in case they got through discussing the syllabus early and jumped into the first lesson.

She's ready, dammit.

Spencer glances at her watch one last time (four minutes until the first bell rings) as she turns the corner into the science wing. There's a few students still trying to get everything into their lockers and some others just hanging around talking, but none of them look even the least bit interested in going to class yet; that seat is all hers.

She arrives at room 552 and strides right through the doorway, and she's so focused on the fact that she's the first one here that it takes her a few seconds to realize she's not. One student has already arrived, a blonde girl wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and she has her textbook open in front of her on the desk.

And she's sitting at Spencer's seat.

Spencer stops abruptly, her feet frozen to the tile floor, and after a moment the girl looks up.

"Hi," she says, managing to sound shy but confident at the same time. "Um, this is AP chemistry, right?"

Spencer stares at her. "Yeah…"

She lets out a breath of relief. "Okay, good. I'm new here so I just wanted to make sure I had the right classroom."

Spencer hasn't moved; she's still trying to wrap her head around the fact that a new student is sitting in her favorite seat, her lucky seat.

"I'm Quinn, by the way," the girl continues, giving her a small smile.

"Spencer," she mutters in reply.

Quinn nods and her eyes dip back down to the pages on the table for a moment before looking up again and arching her eyebrow. "Are you gonna sit down? Or are we supposed to wait for assigned seats or something?"

Spencer finally snaps out of it. "No, uh. I just haven't quite woken up yet," she mumbles, pouting just a little as she takes the other seat at the table, across from Quinn. She sets her bag down on the side and pulls out her notebook and a pen. "Trying to make sense of everything?" she guesses as Quinn turns the page.

She laughs softly. "It's pretty easy, actually. I'm really good at math." She shrugs. "And I just like to read."

Another student walks in and takes a seat toward the back of the classroom.

"Wow," Spencer manages through a weak smile. She's not sure how she feels about having an equal.

"If you need help with any of the material I'd be happy to study with you," Quinn offers, giving her a kind smile, and Spencer grits her teeth.

"Thanks for the offer," she says as calmly as possible, "but I think I'll be fine."

She watches as Quinn goes back to reading; her expression remains completely neutral, never confused, and at one point she nibbles her bottom lip but it seems to be in concentration rather than frustration.

Several more students arrive and the room is filled with post-summer vacation chatter, but Quinn might as well be sitting in an empty library.

"So," Spencer says as she opens her notebook to the first page and writes the date in the top right corner. "You just moved here?"

Quinn doesn't look up. "Yeah. About a month ago."

"Where are you from?"

"Lima."

Spencer hesitates; she has no idea where that is.

"It's in Ohio," Quinn adds, though her eyes are still on the textbook, and Spencer kind of hates that Quinn probably thinks she's stupid.

"Oh." She wants to say something intelligent to balance out the conversation but Mr. Brennan walks in and calls for everyone's attention, and the fact that she has to turn around to look at him reminds her how not okay this seating arrangement is.

"For those of you who have had me before, I know I usually let you pick a lab partner each week," he begins as he walks around the room and hands out the syllabus. "But I thought that since you guys are older and wiser now, you could handle a committed relationship this year." He pauses dramatically and Spencer doesn't like where this is going. "The person you're sitting with right now will be your lab partner for the whole year," he announces, and as the students who sat with their friends exchange excited glances, Spencer sits frozen and horrified.

"Mr. Brennan?" she calls out as he passes their table, and he hands her the syllabus with a warm smile.

"Spencer Hastings! It's a pleasure to have you again." He eyes her suspiciously. "Now, be honest—how much of the textbook have you skimmed already?"

She blushes. "Just the first chapter. But I wanted to ask you, um…" She glances at Quinn, who's looking at the list of assignments. "Wouldn't it make more sense to let us choose our lab partners? I mean, since we're seniors I think we're mature enough to make that decision ourselves."

Mr. Brennan just laughs. "It's good to have you back, Spencer. And honestly, you've got nothing to worry about." He lowers his voice and leans in a little. "From what I can tell from Quinn's entrance exam, she's a brainiac like you. You might actually get to work with someone this year instead of letting everyone else mooch off of your… very impressive work ethic."

She opens her mouth to object but he looks to Quinn. "What about you, Quinn? Are you cool being paired with another smarty-pants?"

She smiles. "Not a problem."

He turns back to Spencer. "You guys are a match made in heaven, I promise." He pats the table twice and goes back to the board then writes "AP CHEMISTRY" in big, messy capital letters. "Those of you who have had me before also know that my handwriting is utterly abhorrent, so anyone who's not used to it—bear with me."

There's a few chuckles around the room but Spencer can't even bring herself to crack a smile.

This is not how she wanted to start her senior year.

"I know how much you guys always let your brains rot over the summer, so I'm going to start off easy. Let's play Guess That Equation!" He says it like he's a game show host and his enthusiasm gets Spencer's adrenalin going; games are a competition, and competitions have a winner, and she's very, very good at winning.

Mr. Brennan holds up a piece of chalk. "First equation," he announces in a deep voice, and he gets really close to the board and begins writing it down.

Spencer stares intently at the board and wonders if Quinn is doing the same, but she doesn't turn around to look.

He steps away from the board and Spencer's pulse is hammering in her veins as she reads the equation.

"The speed of light," she blurts the second it clicks in her brain, but her voice isn't the only one she hears. She glances over her shoulder and sees that Quinn's eyes are just as intense and her lips are parted slightly, like she's just spoken.

"Round one goes to Quinn and Spencer!"

She hates that he says Quinn's name first.

"Next equation…" he says, taking a moment to scrawl it on the board before he steps away again.

"Planck's constant."

They answer simultaneously again and Spencer sees a few people exchange glances. Her cheeks burn red.

"Well, I guess we know who didn't completely boycott their academics over the last three months," Mr. Brennan jokes. "Here's another."

Ten seconds later he reveals the next equation and both girls immediately answer "Avogadro's number."

He throws out his hands. "Come on, people. Are you really going to let them have all the glory?" He's met with blank stares and Spencer notices Quinn trying to hide a smirk. "This is AP chemistry. You're not supposed to be brain-dead once you step through that door."

Someone yawns and Mr. Brennan rolls his eyes. "All right, fine. You guys can balance equations for the rest of the period." He passes out a double-sided worksheet, goes back to his desk, and takes a long sip from his travel mug.

Spencer turns away, back to the table, and Quinn is already writing her name at the top.

"So," Quinn says, flipping to the periodic table at the beginning of the textbook. "Do you want to work together, or…?"

Spencer smiles as sweetly as possible. "No thanks."

Quinn shrugs and begins to work on the first problem, and it makes Spencer's blood boil when she notices the girl is using a pen instead of a pencil.

She glares down at her freshly sharpened Ticonderoga and stuffs it back into her bag in exchange for a blue BIC. They work in silence for a while, Spencer trying not to make any mistakes so she won't have to scribble anything out while she simultaneously watches Quinn to see if she messes up at all.

She doesn't.

A few minutes later Spencer is neck-deep in an equation and suddenly Quinn gets up and heads to Mr. Brennan's desk, taking her sheet with her, and Spencer smirks. She strains to hear what Quinn is asking him—if it's a stupid question, if Spencer knows the answer—but then she goes rigid.

"Excellent job, Quinn. It's good to see that your old school taught you well. You can do whatever you want for the rest of class, any and all law-breaking activities excluded."

"Thank you, Mr. Brennan," she says in a classic kiss-ass tone that Spencer could hear from a mile away, and when she comes back to the table there's a big red check-plus at the top of the paper.

Spencer clenches her jaw and tries to concentrate on the equation, but her eyes keep lifting from the page to watch Quinn, who's now digging through her bag for something. She pulls out a book, one with a worn spine and page corners that have been folded and refolded, and Spencer manages to get a glimpse of the front cover: The Great Gatsby.

"Are you reading that for American Lit?" she asks, trying to sound uninterested.

"No. Just for fun." She flips the pages until she finds the place where she left off, held by a red bookmark that says WMHS in white block letters. "This is my third time through."

It occurs to Spencer that she'd probably get along great with Aria, but she pushes the thought away. "So you're an English nerd, too?"

Quinn shrugs. "I'm kind of an everything nerd."

"Well, aren't you special," Spencer mutters under her breath, but Quinn is already engrossed in her book. She takes a deep breath and goes back to the worksheet, which she totally would've finished by now if Quinn hadn't been distracting her.

What a bitch.

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I have no idea how long it will take me to write the next chapter, since I'm straddling this and Pink, so bear with me with updates for now. I'm also not planning on including much 'A' stuff in this fic, since it's mostly going to be about Quinn driving Spencer insane and the rest of the Liars trying to get Spencer to realize that what she's feeling isn't hate, but rather, I-want-to-jump-your-bones. So.

ALSO PLEASE COMMENT WITH SUGGESTIONS FOR WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO SEE HAPPEN BECAUSE I'VE GOTTEN SOME PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD IDEAS FROM TUMBLR ALREADY AND I'M IN LOVE WITH THE WAY YOU GUYS THINK.