'S is for Salvation' was kind of killing my Sparia heart. This one-shot is what came from my need to patch it back up. Let me know what you think.

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It was ten thirty on a Friday night. Most of the teenagers in Rosewood were engaged in the kinds of activities that could get them in a lot of trouble should their parents - or the police -ever find out. Those who weren't quite at that stage of rebellion were at least being social, going to the movies and having sleepovers and making the kind of memories they'd write in their yearbooks about.

And then there was Spencer.

Her parents were away, her sister was in Philadelphia, and she was making full use of the empty house by locking herself in her room and studying almost aggressively hard. To her credit she at least had the radio blaring, even if it was tuned to a classical station. Her bed was littered with piles of paper and stationery items, but it was an organized sort of chaos; in the Hastings house disorganization was a cardinal sin.

She was halfway through reading a chapter on the US constitution for an essay that was due in almost a month (she'd asked her friends if they wanted to come over so they could write their essays at the same time and give each other feedback, but they'd all refused to acknowledge the existence of the essay and would no doubt instead come to her the day before it was due and beg for her help), and was busily scribbling notes down in a book she had balanced on her knee.

There was a knock at the door.

The fact that she heard it showed two of the main differences between her and most of the teenage population in Rosewood: one, the fact that she could hear it meant that her music wasn't deafening, which set her apart instantly; and two, the fact that she could process it and register what was happening meant that she was one of few teenagers in town who were sober enough to be able to react to anything.

She closed her book, marking the page with a color-coded Post-It note, and headed downstairs. She wasn't sure who she was expecting – the only people who would likely be visiting at this time were unlikely to bother knocking – but when she threw open the door she was pleasantly surprised.

"Aria!" she exclaimed, taking in the sight of her friend standing on her front porch. Aria was wearing a tight-fitting black dress, her hair was swept back from her face and pinned back with butterfly clips, and she was clutching to her chest a small black purse.

"Sweats," Aria said, raising an eyebrow. "You're wearing sweats."

Spencer glanced down at what she was wearing, suddenly – and inexplicably – embarrassed. "I wasn't exactly expecting company," she mumbled. "What are -"

Her sentence was cut short as Aria nudged the door open and made her way inside, her steps a little faltering and her legs swaying slightly.

Spencer stepped back to let her through, making a sweeping gesture with her hand. "Please, come on in," she said, rolling her eyes and closing the door.

Aria walked over to the stairs, but she paused at the bottom, one hand on the banister, rubbing her forehead and blinking rapidly. Spencer came over to her and gently squeezed her shoulder.

"You okay there, Aria?" she asked.

"I'm fine." Aria turned to her and smiled. "I just thought I'd come and friend my – visit my – I thought I'd…"

She frowned, trying to get her words in order.

Spencer folded her arms, an amused smirk creeping across her face. "Aria, are you drunk?"

"What? No," Aria said indignantly. But she crumbled under Spencer's stare and admitted quietly, "I mean, maybe a little."

She pushed herself off the banister and tried to walk into the kitchen, but she overbalanced and pitched forward. Spencer's hands shot out to catch her; she righted her, and kept one hand on her arm to make sure she stayed upright as they went into the kitchen.

"Well, maybe a lot," Aria said, giggling, as they reached the island and Spencer eased her into a seat.

While Spencer set about making coffee, Aria rested her head in her hands and tried to stop the room from swaying. When she finished she set a cup down on the counter in front of Aria, who looked up at it with a groggy expression on her face. Spencer poured herself a cup and then sat down across from her.

"Big night?" Spencer teased as Aria took a tentative sip of the coffee.

"God, this is strong." She pushed it away, but before Spencer could say anything she pulled it back towards her and took a huge gulp.

Spencer downed her coffee and then leaned back, stretching her hands behind her head. She'd been sitting for hours, and she was uncomfortably stiff. She opened her mouth to ask whether Aria wanted to go and have a shower, but the way the other girl was looking at her made her stop.

"What?" Spencer asked, suddenly self-conscious. She glanced down to make sure she hadn't spilled coffee down her shirt; she hadn't. But Aria kept staring. "Seriously, what is it?"

"You just…" Aria blinked, then shook her head, seeming amused at herself.

"I just what?"

Aria shrugged, sliding her hands across the table under her arms were straight in front of her, and then she rested her face on them, looking up at Spencer with something close to wonder in her eyes. "You look good."

"You don't need to sound so surprised." Spencer tucked her hair behind her ears, trying not to show how much the compliment had meant to her. Feeling a blush creeping onto her cheeks, she got to her feet and popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster, her back to Aria and her other hand on her mouth as if to stop the smile that was threatening to appear. "You should have something to eat. What do you want on your toast?"

"Mm," Aria mumbled, sounding half-asleep. "Marmalade?"

While Spencer rooted around in the cupboard for some marmalade, Aria closed her eyes and let out a satisfied moan. "I like being here, Spence," she said softly.

Spencer spun around, taking in the sight of the smaller girl practically sprawled on the kitchen island, and couldn't help but smile. "I like having you here, Ari."

In fact, she liked having her here more than she could admit.

She turned back to the counter, smearing marmalade on the toast and talking over her shoulder. "Sounds like you've been having a fun night, at least. Maybe after this you can -"

Her words stumbled to a stop when she turned to face Aria again. Aria was fast asleep, snoring slightly, a strand of hair across her face rising and falling with each breath. Spencer suppressed a giggle.

"Come on, Aria," she said, pulling the smaller girl to her feet.

Aria looked up at her blearily, but when she realized what Spencer was trying to do she slid from the stool, none too gracefully, and started walking. Spencer half-dragged, half-carried her up the stairs and to her own room. Leaving Aria leaning against the door, she quickly swept her papers from her bed and piled up her books, then stacked them up on the desk.

"Here we go," she murmured, leading Aria over to her bed.

Aria flopped down onto it, and after Spencer helped her pull off her shoes she spread out on the bed, arms out by her side, eyes half-closed and hair falling over her face. Spencer couldn't help thinking that she looked like an angel.

"Hey Spence?" Aria asked, not opening her eyes.

"Yeah?" Spencer sat down beside her, and Aria nestled into her lap.

"I love you."

Spencer felt the words like a whisper against her thigh, and a tingle shot down her spine. But she kept stroking Aria's hair and pretended not to notice.

"I love you too," she whispered, watching as Aria curled up and fell asleep.

Once Aria was out, Spencer looked at her pile of books and debated picking up where she'd left off. It was still early, after all. But standing up would disturb Aria, and she didn't want to lose this feeling of peace. She settled back against her pillow, rubbing Aria's shoulder and contemplating how much studying she'd have to do tomorrow to make up for this. But she didn't care.

Some things were just better than studying.

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