A/N: I'm SO SORRY for the delay, I've just been overwhelmed by both school and other fics. (Check out 'Fear of Falling' and 'Threads' if you haven't already!) The good news is, I only have two and a half more weeks in this semester and then I'll be able to write nonstop. That includes my other fics, most notable the Warehouse 13/Pretty Little Liars crossover, if you guys are interested. Anyway, without further ado, the latest chapter of Hourglass!


Kissing Hanna was like coming up for air after a very long time spent underwater. Being with her again was like collapsing back on shore after a very long, arduous swim – grounding and comforting with the added exhilaration of personal victory. She had done it. She had made it without her, she had survived. And Spencer couldn't think of a better – or worse – celebration of that.

Spencer slotted their hips together, arching her back to press against her, desperate to fall back in line with the exquisite silhouette of her form. Hanna's body was a poem she had memorized years before, and the words had not changed in the slightest – they had only grown more poignant and powerful over the years she had missed her. She could still speak every word perfectly, her lips against the lines of her frame, her flushed skin scented and tasting like vanilla and paradise on her tongue. She was surprised at the familiarity she still had, and then again, not at all shocked – Hanna wasn't a person anyone could ever forget being with. The experience was a lasting one.

"Oh, Spencer…" Hanna gasped, drawing out her name in a ghost of her voice, breathless and needy as she kissed up the pale canvas of her dewy thighs, skin damp with her arousal, legs already quivering in anticipation. Spencer couldn't help but smirk a little as she purposely avoided what she so desperately wanted, and instead drew a pattern with her mouth along her hips. "Come on…" Her voice was half whine as she reached down, tangling a hand in Spencer's short hair, fingers twisting themselves desperately among the strands as she continued to tease her. Her legs were draped over the edge of the bed, Spencer on her knees in front of her, gazing at her over the landscape of her body.

"God, I forgot how beautiful you were…" Spencer murmured, lips against her taut stomach. There was still a slow buzzing burn of alcohol in her veins, but that was nothing compared to the exhilaration of having her again. She pressed her hips down as they cantered up against her slightly. The more Hanna's urgency presented itself, the more mischievous she felt, a grin the likes of which she hadn't felt in years playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Liar…" Hanna managed to gasp out, tugging harder at her hair and not in a bad way. Spencer swallowed a low moan, biting at her lower lip to suppress it before she slipped her hands underneath her, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed.

"Guilty as charged…I could never forget." Spencer whispered, halting for another second, her heartbeat increasing with the tension in the air, before she finally leaned in, keeping her hips pinned to the mattress as she drew her tongue agonizingly slowly up the length of her, noting with a deep sense of satisfaction the wild noise that erupted from Hanna. The heat spreading through her doubled with Hanna's repeated, wanton keening, the way she gripped the sheets, desperate for something to ground her, the other hand tugging at her hair, urging her on.

Hanna was right. She was a liar. Every time she'd convinced herself she hadn't missed this, she had been lying to herself. And that was the worst kind of lie.


The sheets were warm. The blanket was heavy. Spencer turned over against it, knowing the instant she opened her eyes or slipped out of bed, the warmth would disappear and the pain of a hangover would take its place. And she wanted to avoid that as long as possible. Still, she couldn't halt the smile from forming on her lips as she reached over and found Hanna still next to her. What had happened hours before had seemed to exist in a dream, since that was the only way she'd thought it would ever happen again. Hell, it still felt like a dream, but that didn't stop her from edging closer, savoring the warmth of her sleeping body.

"Hey." The bed dipped slightly as Hanna rolled over into her arms, burying her face in her neck, her voice just as blurry and muzzy as Spencer felt. Her lips fell against her neck, and Spencer purred her approval as she moved her hands to the expanse of Hanna's back. "You're awake." She drew the words along the column of her neck with her mouth, and Spencer struggled to find her voice.

"That I am." Spencer whispered, threading her hand up through Hanna's short hair, sighing contentedly. "This is the best morning I've had since…the last time I woke up next to you." She laughed a little, her voice hoarse from her hangover, from her exhaustion, from the quiet contentment spreading through her as fast as the heat as Hanna worked her weakest point.

"…can I make it better?" Hanna whispered, lips against a pulse point, sucking gently, fingertips resting at the juncture of her hip and abdomen. The motion was sudden and unexpected, drawing a sharp exhalation from her, hips jerking forward against hers.

"Babydoll…" Her mouth formed the nickname so easily, so thoughtlessly, like they were back ten years before and nothing had changed. But everything had. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize and take it back but before she could make it audible, Hanna kissed her, firm, unyielding, silencing. Her free hand curled into her short hair at the back of her neck, and her other hand drifted across Spencer's stomach, turning over in heat and the uncertainty of the encounter, of what it meant. Still, she wasn't complaining. Far from it.

Hanna pulled at her lower lip with her teeth, shifting her hand to fully cup her, drawing a high pitched whine and a sharp jerk forward. "Now that's more like it." She whispered against her lips, as Spencer finally opened her eyes, locking them with Hanna's slightly blurred over blue ones for only a second before they fluttered shut again, her entire body tensing as Hanna dipped inside her.

"Fuck." Spencer gasped sharply, digging her nails into Hanna's shoulders, jerking her hips forward against her touch, aching and desperate for more. Now that she had finally caved, after so long without her, she felt like an addict who had rediscovered an old supply – unable to get enough. "Please." She gasped, crying out as Hanna arched her hand in just the right way, hitting just the right spot. It hadn't been this good in so long that Hanna had her dissolving at the barest touch, the smallest flick of a fingertip, and she couldn't have been more shameless about it.

"Mmm…well, you certainly missed me." Hanna whispered, before kissing her again, pulling her close by her hair as she continued to play the strings of her body like a practiced musician. Hanna remembered as much as she did, clearly, and that would have been something to think about had Spencer not been so preoccupied. "I didn't expect that."

Spencer whimpered as Hanna traced circles around her clit, so close to coming undone from all of the attention, words struggling to form amidst the heat that was filling her up. "I…didn't…either." She gasped out, burying her face in her neck, enveloped by her seemingly permanent vanilla scent. "Oh God…Oh God, Hanna, please, I'm so…" She trailed off, arching against her at the pace the waves of ecstasy were starting to roll through her. Her own heartbeat swished in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the thoughts in her head, of the warning bells that were suddenly going off. What did she have to be worried about? Nothing, certainly not at that moment. She gripped her hard, pulling her even closer, trembling, needing her, wanting her, loving her, overwhelmed by being so close to her after so long. "Hanna…" She gasped out, the last intelligible word managing to escape the mess of sounds and letters building like a hundred car pileup in the back of her throat. Her final climax was a collision in the best way, everything coming together and yet falling apart. She didn't even know what she said or what she sounded like, so caught up in just feeling it. As she collapsed away from her, though, and the last wave crashed on the shore and the contentment, while chasing away her hangover, began to settle heavily in her limbs, a different set of words was pulled from her, without any prior thought or prompting. "I love you." She gasped, resting her head back on the indented pillow, blinking the daze from her eyes. "I never stopped."

"…go back to sleep, baby." Was Hanna's only response as she settled against her, burying her face in her neck, and Spencer was so spent by it all that she couldn't help but do exactly as she said, any worrying thought or self-loathing at what she'd revealed lost on her as she drifted away.


The next thing Spencer woke up to was not her own hangover, or the sun shining too brightly on her pillow, but a kiss. A gentle but insistent kiss, with no tongue, no frills, nothing but the simple affection of one pair of lips against another. So deep in sleep and the afterglow of her orgasm, it took her several minutes before she rolled over to reciprocate…and found herself alone.

"Hanna?" She mumbled, reaching over and finding nothing but a fistful of cold sheets. Her eyes flickered open to see exactly what she had felt – nothing but a slept in bed and a sheet of the hotel stationary neatly folded against the pillow, a lipstick print beneath her name, printed in Hanna's handwriting. That was another thing about her that hadn't changed. The letters were bubble-like in form, still childish and feminine and even though the warning bells were clanging in her head and her stomach was twisting, she couldn't help but smile a little.

Spencer sat up finally, holding the note in one hand as she reached for her reading glasses. (Jesus, she was getting old. When did that happen?) Unfolding the letter, her hands began to shake and suddenly, there she was, falling apart in stoic silence as her eyes traced the first few words.

Spencer,

I'm so sorry. I never meant for it all to go this far. I never intended on this happening at all, although part of me is glad it did. I wasn't lying when I said that I missed you. Part of me needed what happened here, and I'm sure part of you did too. In a way, it was healing. We left a lot of things unsaid when we last saw each other, and to be honest, it's been driving me crazy ever since. This was a way of handling it. It was definitely not the best way. But it was a way. And for that, I am grateful.

But I think you and I both know that last night was a mistake in every other respect. We've hurt each other enough times to know that either we're not meant to be, or we just aren't good for one another. As much as it hurts to write this, Spencer, I don't think I want to see you. Not right away. One day, I'd like to be your friend, but I don't see how that's possible, with you still feeling so strongly for me. It's not going to do either of us any good if we let it get to be more than this. I think our history has proven that. All we do is hurt each other in the end, and I can't afford this back and forth mess our relationship will always end up becoming. I have a son to take care of. You have a life back in New York. This won't work. It can't work. And neither of us should go around wasting our time, pretending like it will.

I'm so sorry, Spence.

Hanna

The words felt hollow, echoing in the suddenly empty chamber of her chest. Where she had just seconds before been filled with warmth and contentment and optimism, with the stirrings of a love she had buried long ago, she was left with nothing. The sudden injection of emptiness into her was jarring and it left her feeling fragile, like all substance had been bled out of her by Hanna's cutting blow. It wasn't that she was sad or upset or depressed or even angry. It was that she felt nothing. And while Hanna's low blow was truly tragic…perhaps that was the true tragedy. Her lack of pain. She had lived with pain for the past ten years, she'd lain with it, she'd made peace with it. It was like an old friend, and now that she was without it, now that Hanna had left something else in her wake other than the familiar sensation of pain, Spencer was at a complete and total loss.

After a moment, she rolled over in the bed, tossing her reading glasses away from her, hearing them shatter against a wall, only indifferent to the sound of skittering, clattering plastic. She didn't crumple the note, rather she buried it beneath her pillow, and closed her eyes, burying her face against the soft sheets, already missing the curve of Hanna's neck and shoulder, where even now, she still longed to rest her head. Willing herself to fade into sleep again, half in hopes to be dreaming and wake up next to her, half in the need to not feel so empty and formless, she licked her lips to remove all traces of that last, ill-fated, poisonous kiss.

Hanna still used cherry lipgloss.


"God, that's so tacky!" Melissa paused as she hefted Spencer's duffel bag out of the trunk of the lemon yellow cab that had brought her back to her childhood home once again. "A note? Can I read it?"

"When did you get so nosy, Melissa?" Spencer lowered her sunglasses, wincing at the bright sun. Apparently, betrayal awakened latent hangovers that had been chased away by pity orgasms. "Of course you can't read it, for Christ's sake."

"Little ears!" Melissa hissed, and sure enough, Taylor was slipping over from the driveway not even a second later. "Honey, Spencer's not feeling well, you should just go back inside and we'll all hang out later, okay?"

"No, it's okay." Spencer said, a sound of discomfort lodging in her throat as Taylor hit her, hugging her tightly. The contact stirred something in the resounding void that had bled out into every fiber of her, and she sighed in relief, hugging Taylor back. "Oh, thank you, jujube." She sighed, managing a small smile as Taylor giggled at the nickname. "How about you, me and your mom go see a movie and go the park and have a super awesome day together? How does that sound?" Mindless children's entertainment, the chemically infused deliciousness of movie theatre popcorn and fresh air. Now that was what she needed right now. Anything that didn't remind her of the betrayal in the hotel room.

Taylor nodded vigorously, hugging her again, before skipping back to the house. "God, what are you feeding that child?" Spencer said, hefting her other bag over her shoulder as she turned to pay the cab driver, giving him her last few crumpled bills. "Is she going to school at Willy Wonka's factory?"

"Ha." Melissa said derisively, coming up behind her just as Spencer came up short with the cab fare, just giving him a card to swipe. "You just signed away my whole afternoon, you should be a bit more humble…or at least less chatty."

Spencer turned to Melissa, knowing exactly the desperation that was written on her features. She could see it in the way Melissa's expression fell as she looked at her fully, in the way all playfulness fell away from her and from the air around them. The void had grown into a black hole, sucking the life out of everything around her. And she only had Hanna to blame for it. "Melissa, I need you. I'm sorry, and I promise I will pay you back somehow, but right now, I feel like I'm one strong wind from being blown away. She broke me into tiny little pieces, Melissa. I haven't really felt it yet, but it's coming, and it's going to be bad. I feel like I'm losing my mind, and I need you to just…help me put it off for a few hours."

Before she could take a breath after finishing the sentence, Melissa was hugging her. A tight, affectionate, firm and loving hug that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before in her entire life. She was so stunned that it took her a good ten seconds before she wrapped her arms around Melissa to return the gesture, a few tears escaping her eyes as a weary sense of validation settled over her. Finally, someone cared that she was hurting. Finally someone understood. There was only one other person who had ever made her feel validated in her pain before, and that…well, she still had to contact her, somehow. Not now though. Perhaps not even soon. If Melissa really cared about her that much after so much time being spent in competition rather than sisterly affection, it could be all she needed to keep her steady.

"I'm going to strangle her the next time I see her." Melissa sighed, finally releasing her, patting her shoulders. "She's not going to get away with hurting you again, I won't allow it."

"Melissa, don't." The defense feels hollow on her tongue, but necessary. God, how sick was she. This girl broke her heart more than once and yet she was still coming to her aid at the drop of a hat. "I did some pretty awful things to her too. You know what they are."

"Yeah, but you're my baby sister." Melissa said. "I'm supposed to be blind to your faults, remember? Beat up any girl who breaks your heart?

A small laugh bubbled out of Spencer before she could stop it. "We're not exactly on the playground anymore, Melissa, but thank you…help me drag this shit to the barn?"

"Hey, if coming back home is the way you're choosing to deal with this, then I am all for it." Melissa said, doing as Spencer asked, helping her carry it over to the barn, which stood resolutely in the backyard, once a symbol of such contention between them. It was now a sanctuary, where she could hide away from all of the trouble she had managed to create for herself in two days. She didn't want to be in town, where Hanna would expect her to be, where she could accidentally run into her. She didn't want to live in a minefield. She was already dealing with enough. "Although I am curious…why aren't you just going back to New York and forgetting that all this even happened?"

"…Hanna isn't the only thing I've ever run away from." Spencer said after a long moment, glancing back at Melissa. God, if only she knew.


Three hours later, and Spencer still hadn't felt the full effect of what had happened to her. She was beginning to think she'd never feel it, and this was her punishment for being such an idiot – living on the edge of a massive breakdown but never going through it or reaching the end of it. It was torture for a masochist like her, who wanted to just feel the pain and get it over with. If anything, it left her feeling slightly unhinged, like she could break at any moment.

She hated that feeling.

"Come on, Taylor, you can do it!" Melissa called from the sidelines. Physical activity still remained an excellent way to distract herself from the shreds of her emotional life. So she'd dug out two of her old practice sticks from her parents' garage, given one to Taylor, and had proceeded to kick her niece's ass at a scrimmage of field hockey at the park.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Spencer laughed, actually laughed, as she sidestepped the nine year old rushing towards her, knocking the ball towards the makeshift goal she'd set up prior to playing. God, she'd forgotten how good she was at this, how it made her feel, even in the face of insurmountable emotional turmoil. "Catch me if you can, jujube!"

"You're bigger than me, no fair!" She heard Taylor call behind her, and she turned around, slowing to a jog as she moved backwards.

"You want the ball Taylor? Come on, come and take it!" She taunted, slowing up just slightly. She knew Melissa probably wouldn't approve of her slowing down her game a little to benefit Taylor, but she could live with it.

"Just…I can do it…" Spencer dodged each of Taylor's lunges expertly, leaving spots and big openings for her to take it, but to no avail, finally knocking the ball back past the goal.

"Sorry, jujube, better luck next time." Spencer slung her stick over her shoulder. "Tell you what, when you get to be my size, we'll play again, and you'll probably be able to beat me…keep practicing though, alright? You're good."

"That's right, baby, you were so good." Melissa came over, ruffling Taylor's hair. "Hey, Spence, I just got a call from work, and they need me to go do a video conference thing, is there any way you'd be okay with me bailing and leaving Taylor here? If I could get out of it, I would, but this is major, and I – "

"Say no more." Spencer cut her off. "I think it would do the both of us good, and as long as I have someone here with me, I should be okay…thanks though. You know…for everything." For peeling me off the floor of the hotel room when I was too hungover and depressed to move. For keeping me occupied. For making me feel like an actual human being for once. But she left all of these things unsaid. They didn't need to be quantified anyway. It would cheapen the now seemingly transcendent understanding their relationship had evolved into. If there was anything she was thankful for in the past ten years, it was Melissa, and what they had become for one another.

"Feel better." Melissa pulled her into a hug. "Don't let that you-know-what control your life again. I like having my sister back." The older woman patted her back as she pulled away. "I'll call you later."

"Yeah…" Spencer watched her leave, calling out for her on impulse. "Melissa?"

"What?" Melissa turned around, walking backwards.

"…I'm really glad we're not on the playground anymore!" She called back, after a moment, smiling as Melissa's features displayed a similar expression.

"Me too!" Spencer turned away as Melissa reached her car, in spite of everything feeling calm and collected. The precipice she'd been facing ever since she'd woken up the second time that morning was buried in the back of her mind, still there, still present, but only in the barest sense of the word. Maybe she would be okay. But then again, only time would tell.

"Alright." Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Taylor. "Aunt Spencer needs a break." Suddenly she was feeling like exercising during a hangover probably wasn't the best idea. Her stomach slid around uneasily and she swallowed hard. Neither was lunch. "I'm going to go sit on that bench over there, maybe you could go play on the swings until it's time for the movie, alright?"

Taylor nodded obediently and ran off, leaving Spencer to her thoughts beneath the sprawling oak tree which shielded her from the sun. She let her sunglasses rest on the bench beside her, soaking in the day and trying not to dwell on what had happened. Clearly, it hadn't meant much to Hanna. It shouldn't have meant so much to her. She shouldn't have let it, and that was the stupid part. She felt her cheeks flush hot with shame as she remembered the words she had let slip in the heat of the moment. She hadn't been able to admit it to herself at all over the past few years – so why had she said it so easily to her? Given the keys to her heart to the one person who had succeeded in breaking it over and over again, without a second thought? How much of an idiot was she?

"Spencer?" Spencer jerked away from the noise, almost falling off the bench. Swearing under her breath, she pushed herself up, took a deep breath and opened her eyes, only to find herself looking at none other than Ashley Marin, with Liam standing close to her side.

"…Mrs. Marin." Spencer got out, her brief and momentary sense of calm crashing into mild despair as she laid eyes on the redhead and her grandson. She did seem older, and more tired, with a few less than vibrant streaks in her hair, but still regal and warm. Like Hanna, it seemed, she had only gotten better with age.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ashley?" She sighed. "Liam, you can run and play, I have to talk to Spencer."

"Okay…hi Spencer!" He waved gaily at her, and in spite of everything that had happened, Spencer could help but to offer a small smile at him, waving back before he ran off towards the playground. Looking at him, she saw Wren very clearly in his young features, but it wasn't all him. It was someone else. Someone she knew, but it was too vague and she was too hungover to think too hard about it, and by the time she had come to this realization, he had run off anyway.

"So you need to talk to me, huh?" Spencer raised her head, directing her train of thought towards Ashley. It wasn't as though she held any animosity towards the woman; it was actually quite the contrary. Ashley had been a surrogate mother, a friend, and always supportive oh her and Hanna. But Ashley reminded her of when the times had been good, and seeing her…well, it stung more than she cared to admit. Having to endure her kindness wouldn't help her move on from what had happened the night before, or from Hanna at all. "It's been awhile."

"It has." Ashley admitted, as she sank down next to Spencer on the bench. "I want to know how you've been, Spencer. I do miss hearing from you. I understand that things aren't – "

"Things are just fine, thanks." She didn't want to be cold to the woman, honestly. She was trying her hardest not to be. This was just the complete opposite of what she needed at that moment, and her annoyance was too great to be directed at something as abstract at the universe. "I have a great job as the assistant campaign manager for the incumbent mayor of New York City. I live on the Upper East Side, in an apartment with a view. I have friends, hobbies, a life….Ashley, I'm doing fantastic." She spoke the blatant lie with such a sugary smile on her face that there was no way the other woman could believe her.

"Spencer." Good. She didn't believe her. "I know you probably try to forget about that part of your life, but I do know you. And I know when you're lying. And I know when you're being a smartass. And right now, you're doing both."

"I don't need you to be my mother anymore, Ashley, I'm a grown woman." Spencer sighed. "And I'll lie if I want to."

"Yes, but growing up doesn't mean we stop needing our parents." Ashley said. Spencer had to give it to her, not everyone could handle her level of hard sarcasm, and yet Ashley was unfazed entirely. "Come on. What's the matter?"

Spencer hesitated, mentally smacking herself for even contemplating telling her what happened, and then went ahead and spoke anyway. "Telling that story would mean speaking ill of your daughter, and I'm not sure you want to hear that."

"Spencer, I want you to listen to me, okay?" Ashley said, after a long pause during which Spencer couldn't help but panic that she'd already revealed too much and turned one of the people who still cared about her against her. "Because I'm older and I know better, and even now I think I know Hanna better than you. My daughter isn't perfect, Spencer." Ashley reached over and touched her shoulder. "And I think it would do you a lot of good to get yourself out of that mindset."

Spencer stared at the ground, focusing on an anthill, with the dark, tiny specks of bugs spilling out of it into the sun. She wondered what it would be like…to break free from the layers and layers of memories, holding her down like dirt and rocks and roots, holding her back from the light and air she deserved. She deserved to be able to breathe once in a while. On some level, buried somewhere deep inside of her, she knew that. She knew that Ashley was right about Hanna, and that her tendency to put her on a pedestal had gotten her into trouble many times over the years. She knew she was making everything worse for herself by holding onto that immaculate idea of her because, if Hanna was perfect and infallible, then every little bump or landslide in their relationship was her own fault, her own shortcoming.

But she had never gone a day without blaming herself for something. Why should this be any different?

"I think Taylor and I have to get going." Spencer said, standing up, brushing her shorts off, and deliberately avoiding the subject. The feeling was creeping back to her now, the freezing cold, the impermanence of her being, of her sanity, the sinking sensation of reaching a precipice and staring down into the depths with the knowledge that you could – and would – fall at any moment. Spencer was a leaf in a hurricane, subject to the strong pushing and pulling of her emotions, of her ingrained guilt. She always had been, when it had come to Hanna at least. Never once had she tried to grab onto a solid branch and lash out, never once had she tried to blame someone or something else. The burden had always been cast on her, and that realization was almost worse than the complete train wreck that had come from her encounter with Hanna. "I promised I'd take her into a movie…and honestly, I can't take this medicine right now…thanks for trying, Ashley."

"Wait…" Ashley stood as well, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder. "All things aside, do you…do you think maybe you could take Liam with you and Taylor? I know it's a lot to ask, but the poor boy doesn't have any friends, and he hasn't shut up about you since he met you, and I just really think it would be good for him to…have some company that's not just me or Hanna. I promise, I'll come and pick him up in a couple of hours."

"…this isn't some reverse 'Parent Trap' scheme, is it?" Spencer asked, as she turned to look at Ashley. "Because, believe it or not, I am not that stupid."

Ashley laid her hand over her heart. "I swear on my Tory Burches that I will be the one to come and pick him up, bar any unforeseen circumstances. This is about Liam, not about…whatever the hell happened between you and my daughter this time."

This time. Spencer scoffed to herself as she agreed to take him with her and subsequently bid Ashley goodbye. Because there had been so many times before this. Because she was an idiot and kept getting herself in the same situation over and over again.

And the worst part was that she was the only person she could bring herself to blame.


The uncomfortable brocade of the couch dipped slightly beneath her weight as Spencer sunk down onto it. Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but also much more than that, and for a minute, she laid there, completely still. It was the first time she'd allowed herself to be still since she'd woken up that morning and dragged herself to the phone, begging Melissa to come and get her. And though it wasn't the first time she'd let herself think about it, with Liam and Taylor playing in the other room, it was the first time she'd been alone with her thoughts, and that prospect thoroughly terrified her.

She glanced over as the entire couch vibrated with her phone, stretching out of her increasingly heavy thoughts to grab it. The touch screen was slippery under fingertips – her hands had been sweating, for whatever reason – but she eventually managed to unlock it.

A real, bubbling laugh was pulled from her as she laid eyes on the attached picture, all of her friends from work – minus Charlie, who had taken and sent the picture, hanging upside down on a jungle gym in central park. Leigha, Anna and Jordan were all there, making strange faces, their hair streaming down from the force of the gravity acting upon it. They had always known how to make her smile, since the day she'd started working there. Even if it didn't last, even if it did nothing to ease the ache of the guilt she couldn't help, it wasn't exactly a bad thing.

Not even a minute later, before she could respond, another text popped up on her phone from Charlie. Skype? xx Spencer smiled, glancing over at Taylor and Liam, who seemed rather occupied by the game they were playing. It couldn't hurt, right? A little company to stave off the breakdown for just a little longer, it was just what she needed. Grabbing her laptop and powering it on, she practically vibrated as she waited for the icon to pop up and the noise to start, practically falling off the couch when it did. She wasn't done recovering from her stumble as she answered the call, resulting in her being contorted when the webcam turned on, and a raucous burst of laughter from the other end. "You guys scared me!" Spencer whined, covering her face, unable to keep herself from smiling as they calmed down.

"We miss you, you idiot, come home." Charlie grinned, reaching in and turning the camera to focus more on the four of them, sitting in the break room at the campaign headquarters.

"Yeah, what the hell is so great about Pennsylvania that you're staying there two weeks?" Leigha asked, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hands.

"Nothing!" Spencer sighed, pulling her legs up underneath her, the laptop balanced on her hip. "I hate it here. But I took two weeks off, and I'm keeping those two weeks. New York is great, and so are you guys, but I need a break."

"So that means you met a hot girl down there, right?" Anna teased, wincing as Jordan shoved her shoulder.
"Leave the poor woman alone, alright? She'll tell us if she wants to." Jordan said, looking back at the camera. "So, how did the reunion thingy go?"

Spencer wasn't sure what was worse – the question, or what happened to keep her from answering it. Because just as she opened her mouth to try and evade the question, (something she knew she'd never be able to do, really,) the door to the break room opened and in strode Rebecca Harrington. Blonde, impeccably dressed, showing skin without being immodest, her heels a tasteful height. She was the Mayor's wife, and more importantly, she was the Mayor's campaign manager, and Spencer's boss. Even over the webcam, Spencer could feel the temperature in the break room drop ten degrees. She was the perfect political wife, able to put on a warm smile and a sweater set and look perfect next to her Armani-wearing husband, but behind the scenes, she was an ice queen, willing to do whatever it took to keep her husband in office, and herself in the ultimate position of power, short of having anyone murdered. (And that was a limit most debatable.)

"The four of you, get back to work." There was as much ice in her voice as there was in the air around her, and even Spencer cringed a little, despite the fact that she was three hours away. "…I need to speak to Spencer, though." Through the camera, Rebecca cut her hawklike eyes to Spencer, and she flinched, their intimidating quality not nearly diminished by the relay of the camera. "If you don't mind."

"No, no, not at all." Spencer was breathless as she watched her friends, as bloodless and intimidated as she was, flee the room one by one with mild goodbyes and promises of another call soon, leaving her alone with Rebecca and all of her questionable intentions. Still, she had to admit, as Rebecca moved forward, sitting gracefully and demurely on the couch, on the edge, as though she was afraid that the common-ness of it would infect her or stain her skirt, she was as glacially beautiful as she was cold ad calculating.

And she was just as talented a lover as she was at political discourse.

"We never finished our previous conversation, Miss Hastings." Rebecca leaned forward, folding her hands in her lap. Just looking at her, Spencer remembered how cold her lips had felt on her neck, how her fingertips had left trails of ice along her thighs. Her back stung from the time she'd been pressed against the desk for far too long at the wrong angle. She wondered why she'd ever been attracted to that woman, but in the same vein, she understood it. Her icy qualities, her emotional unavailability, her dominance, her straightforwardness, (not to mention the taboo of sleeping with the Mayor's wife.) She was everything that Hanna wasn't minus the hair color. But it turned out that hadn't worked for her either. The two weeks in Pennsylvania weren't all about personal punishment. "And, as I recall, it was quite an important one."

"Look, if you're worried that I'm going to let it slip that I've been to your 'sacred temple' or whatever your pastor told you to call it back I middle school, I'm not. Trust me. I've had enough humiliation in my life to last four lifetimes." Spencer sighed, pushing her hand through her hair. "Believe me, I want to just melt into the background and help your husband win, so I can get my job and get on with my life. Okay? Is that good enough for you?"

"I'm sorry, Spencer, I just don't know how I can trust you." Rebecca said, shrugging. "I mean…as someone who has ruined relationships in the past, I have no reason to believe that you wouldn't do the same to me. After all, if you could do it to your beloved sister, then…why not me? You've made it clear that you feel nothing for me. What would stop you?"

Spencer stared open-mouthed, too shocked by her intimate knowledge of her life to be hurt. "Maybe because I'm, I don't know, a decent fucking person that doesn't resort to blackmail to get her way?" She finally said. "I have no desire to drag this out any further, and I'm not sure why you do, since it would only damage your precious campaign."

"That's exactly what I'm seeking to prevent from happening." Rebecca said, her voice never wavering, a cool, icy sound that made her shiver. "And if I have to resort to, I don't know, releasing your juvenile record in order to discredit you, I won't have any problem with that honey." She sighed as anger began to gnaw away at the void in Spencer's chest, making it bigger, and more painful. "It's such a shame that you're so easy to just throw under the bus like this…you were really good in bed."

Spencer glanced over to make sure the kids weren't paying attention, before she leaned forward, dropping her voice. "Look, you insufferable bitch. I didn't ask for a record, and if I didn't need this job, I'd be quitting right this instant. And you need me. No one else can do what I do. It's just a shame that your husband can't learn how to satisfy you like I can."

"…Spencer?"

Spencer froze. That voice. No. Ashley had promised her. There was no way she was…

Spencer turned at the same time as she slammed her laptop shut, ending the call, turning to face none other than Hanna, staring at her from the door, her expression saying that she'd just heard everything.


I know you all hate me right now, but just like Axis, I have a plan 3