But then, of course, it had to end.

Isn't that a tired and true phrase that some poor soul conjured up, maybe while watching Rome burn to the ground or while waiting for the bomb to drop on some foreign shore?

Don't we all say such things when the very structure we cling to starts to crack and fall apart? Like we always expected it to… but we really didn't. We are just trying, hopelessly, to soften the blow of being oh so wrong.

Spencer carries this moment in her pocket, as the clouds cover the land and rain starts to fall and it must be cold because Ashley is almost squealing – almost sounding like a little kid.

And maybe this happened to Ashley before, running wild in a park in the middle of the night and dodging drops of water from the sky… maybe when she was just that tiny girl, with a father who saw her and made her smile… maybe this is all just a recollection for Ashley and Spencer is some bizarre new element within the memory…

A freakish point of light in a never-ending night of what used to be, that's what Spencer is right now.

And she cannot stand the thought of fading from Ashley's view, with the woman's wet hand in her own and the wind picking up and that cold rain binding them together as they rush to somewhere safe.

But yes, all good things… all good things come to an end.

Someone came up with that phrase, maybe someone a lot like Spencer… someone a lot like a dead woman, watching love blossom for the first time – but knowing it is the last time as well.

And Spencer carries this moment in the very fibers of her being, a mess of make-believe bones and an owned soul… Spencer carries this moment and cherishes it like it deserves to be cherished.

They are over the fence again and running still, hand in hand, and Ashley is laughing.

She is laughing and brown eyes are dancing in the streetlights and Christmas is almost over.

And they are soaked through and Ashley is pulling her along, pushing her under an awning… and Spencer is watching every single move that Ashley makes.

The careless way Ashley pushes her hair behind her ears and the roll of her eyes at how pointless it is to try and fix wet locks of chestnut. And the way Ashley's hand grips once, twice and then gently slips away… the way water travels slowly down Ashley's neck…

And just like that, they are kissing.

Just like that, Ashley's wet and warm and smooth body is against Spencer – and they are kissing.

Those fingers are upon Spencer's face, holding on for dear life, and a lively tongue is sliding against Spencer's bottom lip – and they are kissing.

All the old memories get replaced again with a kiss like this one.

And Ashley is fleeing tall buildings, families that don't give a damn, a life not fully lived.

And Spencer is hiding from the inevitable.

And yes, fuck it all, all good things must come to an end… but they are both fighting it, tooth and nail, they are fighting it…

///

Spencer is with Chelsea for the first couple of days of January, only catching a fleeting glimpse of Ashley as the hours and hours go by.

Not that she expects the world to, you know, stop for the two of them.

I don't feel that way. Not at all.

But that is kind of a lie and she stares idly at the wall as documents get copied and all the people at this law-firm move around her – a river of faces she could care less about.

Which makes her feel bad, in a way, because she should be more benevolent and kind and interested – she is an angel, after-all.

But her blue eyes betray her constantly, with every door that opens and every click of heels on stone floors – she looks for Ashley Davies and is always disappointed.

Chelsea peppers her with non-invasive questions about the time off for the holidays.

And Spencer weaves a convincingly dull tale (it involves friends and alcohol and a hangover, concluding with calls from my family…).

And she files and she fetches and she makes calls and she takes notes, but it is all automatic and she is feeling so human – again – and frustration wells up in her throat.

And she doesn't like feeling like this when she shouldn't be feeling anything at all.

However, as if she were still a teenager and not a grown woman… a grown and presently-deceased woman, but that's just comparing apples and oranges, right?

…As if her emotions were strings attached to Ashley Davies lovely hands, the woman is walking toward Spencer and all that angst drifts away and she is grinning – just a bit – before they even say one word to each other.

"Uh, do you have plans for lunch?"

Ashley isn't fully looking at her, but she is close and smells vaguely like cinnamon and the inquiry is soft, brushing against Spencer's cheek.

"Yes."

Ashley is staring hard at the copying machine, fingers rapping and she swallows and those eyes finally make contact, trying so hard to look nonchalant.

"…Oh. Um, what are your plans?"

"I've got a date with a fine looking sandwich."

Ashley tilts her head then and the gaze settles right on Spencer and those fingers still and a deliciously slow grin starts to grow upon Ashley's mouth.

"Mind if I join you?"

"What kind of girl do you think I am, Ashley Davies? How would my poor sandwich feel if I showed up with you?"

Ashley's grin is infectious and they are both smiling and staring and Spencer wonders if they can take lunch somewhere private… I really hope the other angels are busy right now and not listening in on these thoughts. Maybe they had to get a cat out of a tree or go bless a convent or something…

"C'mon, Spencer… I promise to behave."

Ashley's voice is low and those eyes are dark and suddenly all this air conditioning in this building seems positively worthless.

Damn thing must not be working well. Someone should turn it on, full blast. There's a fridge in the break-room, I could go there and stick my head in the freezer for a while. Yea, that would work really well.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

But Spencer doesn't go to the break-room and her voice is a delicate rumble in an otherwise noisy space and for Ashley's ears only and Ashley's gaze flutters to Spencer's mouth.

And Spencer's head is flooded with some very indecent imagery, not befitting of an angelic savior at all, and most of it consists of slamming Ashley up against the wall and undoing those shirt buttons… and it must read pretty plain on her face because Ashley actually gasps – a short shock of air from those amazing lips – and the woman starts to unconsciously lean in…

"It's jammed, Spence."

And Chelsea's voice is that proverbial bucket of cold water.

Ashley blinks rapidly and steps back, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on her skirt and face turning a revealing shade of pink and clips her side on the copying machine as she moves away – which causes her to look down at the malfunctioning piece of equipment like it is the most offending thing in the universe.

Spencer catches her breath and turns to Chelsea, weak smile in place.

"Yea, jammed. Right. Might need, uh, you know… what's-his-name to check it out."

"Josh?"

"Right. Josh."

"You okay?"

"Yea, sure, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem a little off, that's all…"

"Oh, well, it's lunch and I am hungry. For lunch."

Chelsea raises an eyebrow, looking bemused – and a tad disbelieving – but the woman allows it to slide on by. She waves over Spencer's shoulder and smiles.

"Hope your day isn't as swamped as mine, Ashley."

"Uh, n-no, not really."

Spencer can't help it, she really can't – that tiny stutter just keeps the fire burning in her gut, that swirling mass of arousal that Ashley Davies seems to inspire… and for the love of, well, you know who… please leave Chelsea…

"Lucky you. I got stuck almost all morning down at city hall, talking zoning laws with Harris. God, he is a real piece of work…"

"Yea, um, he really is… sorry, I've got to go. Uh, I forgot about… something I gotta do. Sorry."

And they watch Ashley walk fast down the hall and around the corner.

"Hmm, Ashley seems a little off, too."

"Really? Oh, I hadn't noticed that."

Chelsea's look is one of warning and maybe a little bit of humor and Spencer doesn't feel like dealing with a look like that… especially while I am incredibly turned-on and I don't need a lecture on 'mixing business with pleasure', because I am well aware of how wrong it is… on more levels than anyone can guess…

And once again, Chelsea Lewis allows the moment to pass silently, mentioning Josh and the jammed copying machine one more time before walking away.

Oh, I am so fucked, aren't I?, Spencer thinks as she tips her head back and looks upward, knowing just who is watching her spin totally out of control during this 'assignment from above'.

But that thought doesn't stop her from tracking Ashley Davies down as soon as Chelsea is gone, her lunch forgotten (not that I need it anyway) and quietly shutting the door to Ashley's office as the woman watches nervously from the center of the room.

"She can't know. I can't let my father find out."

"Find out about what?"

And Spencer walks slowly toward the woman, taking in those wide eyes and the way those hands flutter about – on edge and burning up…

"About you and I, Spencer."

"Is there a… 'you and I'?"

And Spencer almost laughs at Ashley's face, the furrowing of that gorgeous brow and the slight frown of those wonderful lips…

"Well, I mean… I thought… we were, I mean…"

"Miss Davies, I am sure I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

But they are face to face and Spencer reaches up, brushing her knuckles along Ashley's cheek and Spencer gets closer still – fluttering eyelids and nuzzling her nose against Ashley's softer-than-soft flesh and pleasantly surprised at the resulting groan from the woman…

"I won't let anything bad happen to you, Ashley. I promise." Spencer whispers, bringing her arms up and around the woman, keeping them together for as long as she can… before the lunch hour is up and work continues and the world intrudes and truth bleed out into everything…

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Ashley whispers back as the embrace is returned, taking a line already spoken and tossing it out with that trademark insecurity… the yolk around Ashley's beautiful neck, the reason Spencer Carlin is here at all.

"I am going to keep this one. I swear it. I swear it…"

I swear it. I do. I swear it on my soul. I won't let you down, Ashley.

///

But then, of course, it had to end.

All good things do.

Spencer's phone rang that morning and no one ever calls her, so she knew who was on the other end of that line. And she didn't answer, didn't pick up, didn't check her messages.

I made a promise. You can't make me break it.

And she didn't think about the bigger picture, that garden and that boardroom in the clouds and God.

Because what is that to her? How can that compare to Ashley Davies?

Spencer wanted to fight the coming of the dawn. She wanted to rail against this twist of fate that would give her love now and not when she was truly alive.

She wanted to have steady footing and not die in New York… and then, somehow, find her way to California and this stupid temp job and fall in love with Ashley.

She didn't want Gabe's voice, all knowing and condescending, ringing in her head.

Or Michael's disapproval. Or Raphael's snark.

She doesn't want to reside in heavenly bliss, while – on Earth – there is the only bliss that Spencer wants and craves and needs…

I made a promise. I'm going to keep it. I'm going to save her and… and there has to be a way I can stay here, be here… with her…

All good things, though, must come to an end.

They always do.

Like Newton and the apple and the realization that what goes up must come down… Spencer Carlin is just a piece of fruit crashing through the atmosphere.

And she knows just where she is going to land – walking into a silent law firm, even before the birds are up, to meet with Ashley… but finding that they are not to be alone for this 'secret' rendezvous… her feet skidding to a halt when she hears Raife Davies and Ashley verbally arguing… when she hears her own angry confession ('You tried to commit suicide, Ashley, that means you need help…') drift out of his mouth and smack right into Ashley's unprotected face…

Spencer Carlin knows just where she is going to land.

And it breaks her heart into a million pieces.

///

TBC