Toby propped his legs up on the coffee table and looked through the contents of the vintage Scrabble box. He smiled at how thoughtful his girlfriend had been in picking out a gift for him. A gift that he in no way expected or needed; just having her there, just having her a part of his life, was more than enough.

He glanced over to the kitchen where she was finishing cleaning up their mess from dinner. When she had insisted upon him letting her clean up immediately afterwards, he was adamant that she was his guest and he would not be letting her do chores. Spencer, being Spencer, wouldn't take no for an answer. He guessed she had a point in saying that he had made dinner so he should let her do the dishes. Plus, he knew that arguing with her once she had made up her mind about something was usually futile and he retreated to the couch.

Something about her having thrown her hair up into a lazy ponytail and rolling up her sleeves to dive in to the soapy water made her even more attractive to him than she already was. He loved the Spencer that was studious and well put together, but he also enjoyed seeing the many other facets that she possessed. Her domestic side made him drift off into thoughts of the future. He couldn't help thinking about her taking up residence with him in this apartment; coming home to her after work, cooking meals together, spending every night lying next to one another.

These ideas were exciting and wonderful, but he had to keep them at the back of his mind. While he loved her more than he could ever imagine loving anyone else, he knew that they were far too young to be contemplating things of such a serious nature. Toby let his head fall onto the back of the couch, closed his eyes, and told himself that those things would happen for them... someday.

He heard the sound of Spencer putting the last dish into the cupboard and the soft creaking of the floorboards underneath her steps. A delicate hand brushed some of his hair away from his forehead as she gave him a small kiss in its place. He slowly opened his eyes and saw her standing above him, lips pursed, and looking at him wistfully.

"Come here," he whispered, patting the empty cushion next to him. She made her way around the couch and took over the space. Sitting with her back against the arm of the couch, her legs laid gently over top of his, she sighed.

"I know how important it was for you to get out of your house and you have been working so hard; you deserve to be happy."

He looked deep into her eyes and he could tell how much she meant what she was saying, but he didn't have to strain himself to know that. "It's a strange feeling for me to have someone else actually care about how I feel. I still don't think I've gotten used to it."

She reached out and took his hand in hers, holding on to it tightly. "I know. I feel that way, too, sometimes. How did your parents take the news when you told them you were leaving?"

"They certainly didn't throw me a going away party," he replied," I'm not sure it really mattered to them, one way or another."

"And Jenna?"

Spencer was always most curious about the subjects that she knew probably weren't the best to bring up. Then again, it forced them to open up to each other with just about anything; it kept them close.

"She's not happy I won't be at her beck and call anymore, I know that much. Her control over me; over how my parents treat me, it's done. They'll stop thinking about me altogether eventually... I'll really be on my own." He felt a squeeze engulf his hand and he looked up at her.

"No, you won't. You'll have me," she told him.

Toby smiled and returned the firm hand squeeze. He wasn't sure he would've had the courage to stand up to his family and finally leave them if she had not been a part of his life. He glanced at the Scrabble game sitting next to him and turned back to her with a mischievous grin. She tilted her head to the side in question before he spoke.

"What do you say to that rematch?"