Toby does not lie to her.

This is a law of nature; it is irrefutable, irrevocable, as all laws of nature. A mother bear will protect her cubs. Geese fly south for the winter. A wolf's pack is its life.

And Toby does not lie to Spencer.

Maybe Toby Cavanaugh would've lied to Spencer Hastings, once upon a time (what a fairy tale this is), but those people don't exist anymore – at least, between the two of them. There is no need for surnames, labels where the other is concerned (because labels show the past when you'd rather keep it hidden); that is over.

But then, she reminds herself quickly, we're over. Aren't we?

Then:

Aren't we, indeed.

He's not speaking much, only in short, clipped sentences, probably because he knows he can only speak truths to her, but he doesn't seem to realize that his body, his face, and his eyes are speaking for him, and everything that spews from them is false. His shoulders are deliberately turned away from her, saying, "I don't want to see you." His face looks as though it could be chiseled from rock and it says, "I don't want to look at you." His eyes are two over-blue diamonds set under his brow, and as always they are sparkling, but with a sort of forced malevolence that says, "I hate you."

Unfortunately, he has concealed his heart from her. If she could see it beating, see the pulse race when she comes near him the way hers still does, she could prove it to him, make him look at it and understand that he's being ridiculous, except he's not.

He has every reason to hate her, and he should, but she knows he doesn't because Toby had told Spencer he loved her and Toby never lied to Spencer. She won't let him turn back into Toby Cavanaugh. She can't.

She'd thought she hated Toby Cavanaugh.

Victory is humming a little song in her chest as she drives away – because she hadn't let him run her off, she'd turned back around and so had he, after she'd said her piece – and she thinks, No, we're definitely not over.

A friend.

It seemed that was where he liked to begin.

She doesn't want to hope the way she had when she'd seen he hadn't yet sold the truck – whether he wasn't able to or didn't want to, it didn't matter to her – really she doesn't even think it'll be him, even though he has been the furthest thing from the furthest thing from her mind tonight, but there he is, leaning against it, looking like an angel in the streetlight.

Gravity is defined as:

n. A force of attraction between two objects.

She is pulled toward him by an invisible rope, and as he approaches it is no longer of his own free will, he has tied himself back to her and all she wants is to tell him that she believes in him.

"Pretending not to love you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

None of him is lying – the corners of his mouth are curled up just so, and he leans slightly toward her as if he can't control it, and his eyes are the same color blue as the sky and when they sparkle, they dance and shine and say, "I love you."

But after the past few weeks she's had, and he picks now of all times and here of all places – tonight of all nights – to come home? She's a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions and she gives a half-hearted attempt to hit him, which he stops easily and she's kind of glad for it.

He's already so close to her he barely has to move to kiss her.

It seems to be another law of nature that Spencer's mind is wiped completely blank each time her lips meet Toby's.

As such – although instinct winds her arms around his neck and arches her body closer to his – it takes a few seconds for her to realize what is happening: His mouth is sweet and his arms and chest are tightly muscled and very warm and his heart is hammering. Then she remembers that his sweet mouth is on hers and his arms are wrapped around her, crushing her into his warm chest so that she can feel his heart and her heart beating against one another. She smiles.

She smiles and laughs and thinks she sobs a little, but she knows she never breaks away because she fell again tonight and again Toby caught her before gravity could and before gravity pushed them back together.

Victory sings inside her.

The beginning. Again.

a/n: happy A-day, everyone. told you spoby would kick ass. did they not?

i hope i can write more for PLL in the 76 days we have to wait until season 3 - i have a few ideas, so that's good. ...right? anyway, keep an eye out.

i have a proposition for you. if you screamed (at your TV or not), cried, laughed, awwed, was shocked, and/or did not see that one coming, you shoot me a review. capiche? and if you would like to freak out over the finale in that review, that's okay too. :)

thanks for reading, though. it's more to help me comprehend that spoby got their happy ending(beginning? ;), but still, i hope you enjoyed it.

~whispered touches

disclaimer: i do not own pretty little liars. it belongs to abc family and sara shepard. no copyright infringement is intended.