South of Nowhere is a property of The-N and Viacom. I'm not a crack monkey therefore I do not work for the writers of South of Nowhere. I just borrow their characters for my own pleasure.

Mark and Roger

"Close on Ashley who is writing and composing yet another song about me." Spencer zoomed in just as Ashley turned her head from her composition book.

"What are you doing?" Ashley asked slightly annoyed that she was interrupted. She was in what she liked to call her "me and my guitar" time. No one dared to approach her when she was writing. She once threw a guitar pick at Kyla when she walked in her room. Her only intentions were to ask what Ashley wanted to order for dinner. Instead, she got hit right in the eye. Ashley only felt slightly bad that Kyla couldn't see out of it for the rest of the night. In her defense, Ashley did warn people not to bother her.

Only Spencer got away with it. Just a tilt of her head and a smile and Ashley's annoyance would dissipate.

"Filming you." Spencer sat down on a bean bag that Ashley had in her room. It was a good distance from the bed so she can get nice footage. She focused the camera so Ashley and her guitar were in the entire frame.

"Stop it. You know I can't work under scrutiny."

"It's not scrutinizing, it's documenting. Now, Ms. Davies, what exactly are you writing about me now?"

Ashley smirked. "And what makes you think that this song is about you?"

Spencer couldn't help but smile as she kept her eyes on the screen that currently had Ashley's face being shown. "Because I'm so vain?"

"Wow, Spence, that was an incredibly lame line."

"Oh shut up! You walked right into that and I know that song is about me because all your songs about me," she stated rather smugly. "You told me yourself."

"Oh really?" Ashley closed her composition book and slid it under her pillow. Occasionally, Spencer would try to steal it and read her unfinished songs. It usually resulted in a wrestle match that would start off playful and end sexual. Normally, Ashley wouldn't mind one those matches right now, but her guitar was in possible danger.

"So, 'An Ode to Wheat Thins' was about you?"

Spencer laughed. She remembered exactly when Ashley wrote that song. She wasn't entirely sober when she stumbled into the loft with Spencer after a party. Spencer tried in vain to get Ashley in bed unscathed but Ashley headed into the kitchen instead. She raided the entire pantry finding nothing but an old box of Wheat Thins. She devoured the entire thing claiming that they were heaven in the form of little wheat squares. It was then, "An Ode to Wheat Thins" was born. Ashley threw up shortly after.

"Yes, that was a metaphor about how much you love me."

Ashley shook her head in amusement and started turning the tuning pegs on her guitar. "Alright, you got me. The song is about you, but in my defense, I am physically incapable of writing anything else."

Smiling victoriously, Spencer zoomed in on Ashley tuning her guitar. Quite an artistic shot, if I do say so myself.

"So, do you ever turn that thing off?"

The camera shifted so Ashley's face was back in view. "Only when the batteries dies. Besides, I'm working on a new project. It's about people in their 'natural element.'" Her arm started to get tired. Holding the camera still took a lot of effort. I need a frigging tripod. "My mom is next on my list. I just hope she doesn't get called to surgery. I might throw up or faint. I also highly doubt my class would like to see someone being cut open knowing it was real." Spencer shuddered just thinking about it.

"You're like the paparazzi, you know? Following people around and filming them." Ashley got up to put her guitar back on its stand. Spencer followed her movements and realized last minute that she was making her way towards her. She zoomed out just as Ashley situated herself on Spencer's lap putting a knee on each side of her. Spencer was successfully trapped between her girlfriend's legs.

"Turn that thing off, Mark Cohen. Your class doesn't need to see what I'm about to do to you." Ashley slid her hands between Spencer's shirt and jeans.

Finally turning the camera off and setting it on the floor, Spencer put her arms around Ashley's neck and started playing with the string of her halter top. "Mark Cohen, huh?" She felt Ashley's hands making their way up her sides and to her back undoing her bra. Ashley's fingers were calloused from playing the guitar but to Spencer, they always felt soft. "Wouldn't that mean you're Roger Davis?" she asked leaning in for a kiss.

Ashley smiled into it before pulling back slightly. Being this close to Spencer always made her a little dizzy. "I guess that would make me Roger." She suddenly furrowed her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip. Spencer liked to call this her thinking face because it always looked like it hurt. "Except I can actually finish my songs. I mean it took him an entire year to write that crappy one to Mimi. I mean she was dying for God's sake and that's the last thing she had to hear? Sucks for her."

Spencer could sense another Ashley rant about something frivolous and leaned in for another kiss. Kissing was one of two ways to shut Ashley up. The second was sex.

~*~*~*~

"Why would Mark and Roger choose to live like that?"

Spencer's eyes sprung open at Ashley's random question. She was just on the verge of sleeping and everything was always ten times louder when she was half asleep. She looked up from her spot on Ashley's shoulder and gave her girlfriend a "you've got to be kidding me" look.

Ignoring it, Ashley continued her rant. "I mean it's not like they couldn't get jobs. Or ask their parents! No, they chose to live in that crappy loft in the worst part of New York City."

Spencer scratched her head in exasperation. "Ash, you're completely missing the point."

"What point?!" Ashley threw her hand in the air. "That it's okay to be dirt poor, cold, and hungry as long as you're happy?" She looked at Spencer expecting a logical explanation, but Spencer just moved away from her.

Ashley had the tendency to get flaily when she was in rant mode. She once almost gave Spencer a black eye after they saw Final Destination 3. Ashley had gone on and on about how none those death scenarios could ever happen in real life. Her main topic was the tanning bed deaths. Ashley couldn't let go of the ludicrousness of the situation. She couldn't believe that two girls could get trapped in a tanning bed and burn to death. Spencer actually considered tranquilizing her if she kept going.

"They were Bohemians. They did art for the sake of art," she explained giving Ashley the cliff notes version. She really didn't want to get into the whole Bohemian lifestyle considering she was about to fall asleep.

"Well that's stupid," Ashley huffed.

Spencer rolled her eyes. For someone who was so liberal, Ashley could be real close-minded sometimes. "It's not stupid. Not all people need money to be happy."

Ashley sat up abruptly and stared down at Spencer. "Are you saying that I'm a rich snob?" she asked defensively. "There's nothing wrong with having a little money. Just because I get paid to write songs, doesn't mean—"

"Ashley, calm down, that was not what I was saying. People just choose to live differently." How the hell did I get myself into this conversation? Mark and Roger are not even real!

Calming down, Ashley settled herself back into bed. Realizing she was being pretty idiotic about the whole scenario, she pulled Spencer back to her. They lay there quietly and Spencer started to drift back to sleep.

"I could live in Bohemia, you know?"

With her eyes closed, Spencer smiled against Ashley's skin. "I'm sure you can."

"As long as you're with me." She felt Spencer snuggle closer and started running her fingers through her hair.

"You'll be Roger and I'll be Mark," Spencer whispered, the pull of sleep becoming stronger.

Ashley kissed the top of her head. "No, you'll be Spencer and I'll be Ashley."

--End--