How it All Started

When Spencer Shay looked at the world, he saw art. He couldn't help it; he was made that way. Other people looked at empty milk cartons in the recycling bin and saw trash – Spencer saw his next sculpture. He looked at a child's torn and discarded kite and imagined reincarnating it as a Chinese lantern. While walking through the aisles of the grocery store, he mentally rearranged cereal boxes into elaborate towers and fortresses. He had never viewed this as a problem, at least until the day he came home to find Sam sprawled on his couch watching TV. Not because it was unusual to find Sam making herself at home in his apartment – Sam routinely took ownership of any space she occupied, regardless of whether she was actually invited or entitled. It was that something in the nature of the sprawl sparked a connection in his brain. She lounged on a pillow with her arms thrown over her head, the upward motion pulling her top up just enough to reveal a smooth stripe of skin. For a moment, Sam wasn't Sam. She was art. She was Rose posing for Jack on the Titanic, and he could so clearly see how the picture would be drawn that he had to blink twice in order to refocus on the Sam who was actually there, rather than the one who so suddenly appeared in his mind's eye. He stopped in his tracks, shaking his head and muttering to himself 'whoa Spence, you really need to start dating again. It's pretty bad when you start having visions of –' he turned around to look at her again. 'Teenaged girls.'

Registering his presence, Sam sat up to greet him. " 'Sup Spence? Are you ok? You look a little dazed." She looked towards the fridge guiltily. "Is it about the meatballs? I'm really sorry I ate them all. But I was starving! Oh, and you're out of bacon too." Having confessed her sins for the day (well, MOST of them anyway,) she sank back down on the pillow without waiting for his response.

"Umm…no problem Sam. I only keep that stuff here for you, you know."

"Yeah, that's what I figured. That's why I love you so much." Casual. Offhand. Figure of speech…small smile.

Spencer might have overlooked this had he not just experienced the vision. He probably wouldn't have given it another thought. Instead, he felt the tiniest prickle of unease. He tried to tell himself it was probably nothing – it could have happened to anyone. After all, Sam was a beautiful… Spencer actually smacked himself at this point. This would not do. It would not do at all. Sam looked on curiously as he headed back out the door.

Mumbling under his breath, Spencer crossed the street to the Groovy Smoothie. "Didn't see it. Didn't hear it. Didn't see it. Didn't hear it. Didn't see it. Didn't hear it. I am going to flirt with the next girl who smiles at me, and I am going to ask her out, and under no circumstances am I going to think about Sam. Because there is absolutely no reason for me to think about Sam." Having assured himself that he was under control, Spencer walked up to the counter. The new clerk smiled…

o O o

Spencer left the Groovy Smoothie with his Blueberry Bang, making a concerted effort to ignore the fact that Sam had been drilling twin lasers into his back for the past five minutes. He tried to recall anything he might have done to merit such treatment, but so far was coming up blank. Nevertheless, it was evident he was on the "chizz list," so it would probably be prudent to take himself out of arms reach. Just in case.

Through narrowed eyes, Sam watched him leave. Day fifteen and he showed no signs of seeing the cliff he was about to drop over. Time to take some action.

Sam sauntered up to the counter where April pretended to be busy wiping up a nonexistent spill. She cleared her throat and waited for the woman to look up.

"Back for more?" April asked in a bored tone.

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Do you treat all of T Bo's best customers this way?" Sam replied sarcastically.

April rolled her eyes. "May I HELP you?"

"As it happens, I'm going to help you. You are obviously in need of some advice."

"Really." April was not impressed.

"Yeah, you're still pretty new around here, so this is your one freebie. There won't be another one. You know that guy that just left here? The one that you've been practicing your 'come hither' look on for the last two weeks? I strongly suggest that you back off and make sure you get up on the wrong side of your OWN bed. Because you are a mistake that he is not going to make. I guarantee it."

April laughed. "What are you, like sixteen? You are way out of your league. Surely you don't think he would ever hook up with you! Go back and mind your own business in the schoolyard where you belong."

Not sixteen. Seventeen years, three hundred forty days and counting. "I don't think so. Because as long as you're minding his – I'M minding yours."

Sam stalked from the restaurant, tossing one last comment over her shoulder. "FYI – I play to win."