Hey everyone! This was based on a prompt from the lovely elenabee, who wanted some more A-Team Spoby. And here I am (apparently a Spoby shipper now, anyone wanna tell me how that happened?) to deliver. This'll be a multi-chapter story, not sure how long yet; depends how much feedback I get and how long my motivation sticks around for. So here's the first instalment, let me know if you like it. Oh, and in case you're wondering, no, this won't affect my updates of Iridescence; I'm still working on that, and I'll be updating at least once a week as long as I can. So stick with me, Spoby shippers, as we head off on another journey, this time into the depths of the A-Team and the heart of Spencer and Toby's love...

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Strangely, guilt was not among the myriad emotions Spencer was feeling as she snuck out the front door and crept down the path. She'd kept herself awake for hours last night, pondering the moral implications of what she'd agreed to do, turning over every situation in her mind, coming up with lies in case anyone caught her. She'd examined it from the perspective of about five different religions, ten philosophers, and even each of the girls. No matter which way she looked at it, someone was going to get hurt. Someone was going to hate her. Someone was going to say she made the wrong choice, that she should have told them, that she shouldn't have tried to do this by herself. Yet no matter what she knew they'd say, she also knew she was doing the only thing she could. There was no room for guilt, if she was going to see this through.

It was a warm night, and she wished she didn't have to wear this damn hoodie. It was slightly too big for her, and she had to keep pushing the sleeves back up past her hands, only to have them fall back down again almost immediately. Partway down her block she realized her face was still visible; she couldn't rely on the shadows to hide her features. Barely breaking stride, she flipped the hood up and lowered her head, so nobody would be able to recognize her. She had a handful of lies at the ready, but she'd prefer not to have to use them.

Although she'd memorized it the first time she'd read it, Spencer found herself pulling out the note she'd received from Mona and reading it again. 19 Crescent View Avenue. 9 pm. Come alone; leave with your partner. Yesterday Mona had explained that within the A-Team, there were certain partnerships. Each team of two would go on missions together, and be accountable for each other; and if either of them screwed up or turned against them, the other would be taken down too. Spencer would be meeting her partner tonight – it was another new recruit, someone with whom she could learn the ropes.

She tried not to think about how that could potentially involve actual ropes, or drugs, or guns, or any other number of horrible things. The A-Team was definitely not above kidnapping, torture, or, as far as she knew, murder. The thought of torturing anyone made her queasy; she'd almost failed her biology exam last year because she'd fainted during the dissection. But surely Mona wouldn't put her in charge of something so difficult right away. Undoubtedly there'd be a period of initiation, where Mona would test her loyalty, intelligence, and commitment, most of which would probably involve recon, sending messages, and doing trivial things like fetching coffee or something. Then she could work her way up to torture and murder. That was something to look forward to.

Her cell went off as she reached the end of her block, making her jump. She hadn't been given her 'A' phone yet, so that meant this was probably a personal call. The caller ID confirmed this. "Hey Toby," she said, answering after only a short hesitation.

"Spencer. Where are you?" He didn't sound accusatory, but something in his tone made her uneasy.

"I'm out running errands," she lied, working hard to keep her voice neutral.

"At this time of night?"

She swallowed, coming to a stop in front of a boarded-up store. She looked into the cracked windows, at the forgotten display of dolls on the shelves. "Yeah," she said, suppressing a shiver. "It was the only time I had free."

"Oh. Well, I came by your house, thinking we could have dinner or something."

"Sorry," she said, biting her lip. As she started moving again, she could swear that the eyes of one of the dolls followed her movements. "I already ate anyway."

That wasn't a complete lie. She had eaten – about six hours ago, and even then it was only half a bowl of noodles. She hadn't been able to stomach anything else; although guilt wasn't a factor, anxiety definitely was. It was possible to have the best intentions and still have everything go horribly wrong, and she wasn't even sure she did have good intentions. Not entirely, anyway.

"Oh." He didn't even try to hide the disappointment in his voice, and Spencer felt a spark of irritation, followed by resignation. Really, there was no other way to do this. To keep Toby safe, she had to keep this secret. It was as simple as that. "Maybe another time then?"

"Sure. How about tomorrow night?"

Knowing Mona, she'd need something to look forward to after tonight.

"Sounds good," he said, and hung up without waiting for a reply.

Spencer stared at her cell for a moment, trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Toby wasn't normally so brusque, and it worried her that he'd chosen now to start. There was no way he could know what she was really doing, right? She still didn't feel guilty – she couldn't, since she knew she was doing the right thing – but she did feel something close to fear. If he found out what she was doing, she wasn't sure he would ever forgive her.

The walk seemed to take forever. It was only a few blocks away, but every step was a battle; she had to keep reminding herself why she needed to do this. Each footfall became a syllable, repeating over and over in her mind: You can save him. A four-beat rhythm, a simple reminder, enough to get her through the park and across the bridge, and then the house was in sight. As she approached the street, she allowed her mind to consider something she hadn't before: who her partner was going to be. Was it someone she knew? Someone like Lucas, or Noel, or Jenna? Or maybe it was someone she didn't, someone she'd passed in the halls or in the street, someone whose face looked vaguely familiar but whose name she couldn't quite recall. Whoever it was, she would have to get a lot closer to them. She'd have to work with them to save Toby. But she could do that. If she could work with Mona, she could surely handle anyone else.

Her steps quickened as she approached, shifting into a two-beat jog, each footfall jarring her consciousness, embedding his name into her heart. To-by. To-by. To-by. He was her safe place to land, her love and her strength and her everything. He wouldn't like her putting herself in danger, but it wasn't his decision. It was hers. And if this meant saving him, she'd do it. No questions asked, no regard for her own safety. He'd been holding her up for so long, and helped her through so much. It was her turn to save him.

She reached the house exactly at nine o'clock, and precisely at the same time as someone else. Someone wearing an identical black hoodie, squinting down at a piece of paper in their hands. This had to be her partner. She couldn't see their face, and they hadn't noticed her yet. Taking a deep breath, and thanking god that Toby didn't know what she was doing, she took a step forward. The other black-clad figure jerked their head up and met her eyes.

She felt her heart stop. What the hell was this? Was she even at the right place? She whipped out her note, and, sure enough, she was at the right address. She glanced from the house to the note and then finally at the person, whose expression reflected the bewilderment she felt.

A few tense beats of silence passed. She cleared her throat, tried to find her voice. But it was her new partner who broke the silence.

"Well," Toby said, peering at her from under his black hood, "this is awkward."

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