Author's Note: Did everyone enjoy the season 3B premiere? Those Little Liars, always kicking off with a bang! Make sure to catch mine and my girlfriend's recap at thebedpotatoes before the end of this week. Anyway, stuff is about to go down Paily-wise from this chapter onwards. I really enjoyed writing this, more than I've enjoyed any of the previous chapters. Once again, thanks for the feedback so far, and I hope you enjoy reading!

Emily and Toby were sitting in the train station while waiting for an available cab to take them to the Cavanaughs' residence near the boardwalk. They had been waiting for a while. As expected, the station was packed with college students and boarding school kids arriving to spend Thanksgiving with their families. Toby was thankful that Jenna took the train to New York so she could do some last minute shopping at Barney's before flying in with their parents tomorrow morning. Otherwise, there would be a few tears shed by now.

Emily was reading an email from Samara on her phone. "I've felt disconnected from you for a while. Your world has always been filled with people who I've struggled to fit in with. I tried, but eventually I realised that I could never belong. I'm sorry, Emily," it said.

"You've been reading that over and over again since we got on the train." Toby was leaning over Emily's shoulder. "What do you want to do about it?" he asked.

"Forget, I suppose," replied Emily, shrugging.

Toby smiled. "I can help you with that," he said.

The cab stopped in front of a house made out of handsome dark wood. Toby helped Emily with her luggage. While the cab drove off, they stood in front of the house, just staring at it. "Well, this is the Cavanaughs' humble abode, two-point-oh," said Toby.

Emily was curious. "Where's one-point-oh?"

"An apartment in Manhattan," replied Toby. "My parents work there."

They walked up to the front steps and Toby unlocked the oak door. The house wasn't overly spacious, but it wasn't cramped. It had an impressive kitchen and a comfortable, homely living room Surprisingly, it didn't look like it was a place that was abandoned until the holidays. Where Emily expected a dust coating the furniture and covers on the couches, she saw a polished floor and plump upholstery instead.

"We stay here for most of the summer," explained Toby. "It gets too hot in New York. Dad would have gotten the cleaner in, though, to dust and vacuum the place."

Toby pointed out his parents' bedroom, Jenna's bedroom and the study, the door of which was opened. They took a peek inside. There were two desks on either side of the room, both with comfortable executive chairs. One side was plain, almost streamlined for efficiency - Emily guessed that this was Toby's father's workstation. The other side had small piles of paper on the desk, the walls decorated with photographs of vases. "My stepmom is a professor of Ancient History at NYU, specialising in ancient Greek vase paintings," he told Emily.

"That's interesting," said Emily. "Did your mom use this study too?"

Toby nodded. "Yeah, but instead of the vases, she got a couple of big prints up," he said. "She was a senior curator at the Met."

"You have a fascinating family, Toby."

"Dad's an executive, my stepmom's an academic, my dead mother used to work in a museum and my stepsister is the biggest prima donna alive." Toby laughed. "We're stock standard for the upper crust of the East Coast."

"I noticed this house only has three bedrooms. Do you sleep on the couch and I'd have to share a room with Jenna or something?" asked Emily, only half-joking.

"No." Toby led Emily back to the living room, where he fished a key out of a shallow bowl on the mantle. "Our living situation is much better than that. Follow me." They went out through the back door in the kitchen and walked a short path to a cabin made of the similar dark wood as the house. He put the key in the lock and turned. "This," he twisted the doorknob to open the door, "is chez Toby."

Emily stepped inside and scanned the place. On the wall by the door was a small but well-equipped kitchenette. There was a queen bed on the far end of the room, with a nightstand on one side, and Toby's desk on the other. Next to it was a door, which she assumed, led to the bathroom. Separating the kitchen area from the bedroom area was a living room with a couch and a recliner facing a television, with a coffee table in the middle. "Wow," she said.

"My dad and I started building this together the summer after mom died."

"You built this?" Emily was surprised.

"Well, we had someone lay the foundation and the framework and the insulation, and someone to cut the more tricky bits of wood for us, but we did everything else," said Toby. "Although, we had to get someone to do the plumbing"

"It's cool. And it's all yours?"

Toby nodded. "All mine." He opened a closet and pulled out a quilt and two pillows. "These are for you. You're sleeping in my bed. I'll move my blanket and pillows to the couch later."

"You don't have to, Toby. I can sleep on the couch just fine."

"I insist," said Toby, handing her the bedding. "My dad wouldn't like it if I wasn't being a proper gentleman."

"All right," Emily put the bedding on top of Toby's covers. Meanwhile, Toby opened a drawer in the kitchenette to pull out a small pad of paper and a pen. Emily watched as he started writing things down. "What's that for?"

"We're going shopping for supplies. Do you prefer low fat, nonfat, full cream or two percent milk?"

They drove to the grocery store in Toby's flatbed truck. "This is a gorgeous car," said Emily, running her hand on the hood. "How come you don't bring it to Rosewood?"

"You really want me to bring this to Rosewood? I'll be laughed at," said Toby.

"But you don't really care about that sorta thing."

Toby shrugged. "About my car, I do."

They picked up enough food to last until Sunday morning: bacon, a couple of loaves of bread, a small jar of instant coffee, a carton of eggs, frozen hash browns, bottles of ginger ale, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, Pop Tarts, marshmallows, a jug of milk... "Do you like powdered iced tea or powdered lemonade better?" asked Toby.

Emily was distracted, staring at someone further down the aisle. It was a tall, broad-shouldered brunette wearing a waxed cotton jacket and blue jeans with sneakers. As if she felt Emily's eyes on her, she turned around. "Paige!" exclaimed Emily. "I thought that was you."

Paige was grinning as she walked over to them. "What brings you to this side of the planet?"

"I invited Emily to spend Thanksgiving with me because school food sucks," explained Toby.

"That's nice of you," said Paige. "My dad's brother lives here and the weather forecast is much more optimistic here than in Storrs so he invited us over. Here I am, spending Thanksgiving with the cousins."

"Really? Where's your uncle's house?"

"It's like five minutes away from the boardwalk."

Toby and Emily looked at each other. "It must be near Toby's place," Emily told Paige.

"It must be." Paige nodded. "I got both of your numbers so I'll find out for you and maybe we can meet up and hang out sometime."

"That's a good idea," said Toby. He shook the basket in his hand. "We got food that isn't turkey and I know a good pizza place that delivers, so that's sorted."

Paige peered into the basket. "Looks awesome. What are you guys doing now?"

"Trying to decide between powdered iced tea or powdered lemonade."

Paige stroked her chin. "You can always put a slice of lemon in iced tea if you feel like something more tangy, but you can't un-tangy tangy lemonade," she finally said.

Emily grabbed a can of powdered iced tea on the shelf. "That settles it then."

Paige smiled at Emily as she watched her put the can in the basket. From behind her, a little girl emerged and tugged at her sleeve. "Paige! Paige! Mommy says we gotta go now."

"Okay, that's my cue," said Paige. "I'll see you guys later." She followed the little girl to the next aisle, out of sight.

The next morning, Emily and Toby awoke to someone knocking on the door. Toby, in a tank top and a plaid pajama bottoms, rolled off the couch to answer it. Mr Cavanaugh stood at the doorway, in a slightly creased, but well-fitted pair of navy suit trousers and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. "Morning, son!" he greeted. "Happy Thanksgiving!" He had a deep, resonant voice.

"Morning, Dad," said Toby, rubbing his eyes. "Happy Thanksgiving. You guys just flew in?"

"No, we've been here for an hour already. We stopped by the grocery on our way in to pick up stuff for dinner. I know it's a bit early so I didn't bother calling you to pick us up." He looked over his son's bare shoulder to look at Emily, who was sitting up groggily in Toby's bed. "I knew you had company," he said vaguely.

"What time is it?" asked Toby.

"It's nine-thirty. We took an early flight because we needed to work on the turkey. I've basted it and chucked in the slow cooker. Angela's making us breakfast and Jenna's gone back to bed. Do you and..." he paused, realising that he had forgotten his son's friend's name.

"Emily," said Toby.

"Do you and Emily want to join us?"

Toby turned to look at Emily, then back at his dad. "We're good, Dad. We did buy stuff for breakfast yesterday, so we'll make our own," he told him. "Do you need me to help you with anything?"

"You can get the tablecloths we usually use later and fix the table up."

"All right, Dad," he said.

Mr Cavanaugh smiled at them. "I'll see you two later when you're dressed. Sorry for waking you." He pulled the door shut.

Toby walked across the room to sit on the edge of his bed. "He thinks we're dating."

Emily's eyes widened. "What?"

Toby shrugged.

"Toby!" Emily hit him on the arm. "Why didn't you tell him that I was gay?"

Toby rubbed his arm. "I didn't know how he would react."

"There's only one way to find out. I'm going to tell him at dinner tonight," said Emily. She shook her head at the look on Toby's face. "I don't want him to keep waggling his eyebrows every time he sees the two of us."

"He was not waggling his eyebrows!"

"Okay, everyone, we're going to go around in a circle and we'll say what we're thankful for," said Mrs Cavanaugh. She turned to her husband. "Michael, we'll start with you, then Toby goes next and so on."

"Right then," said Mr Cavanaugh. "I am thankful for good returns on my investment, a twenty-five percent increase in my net worth..." He watched his wife sigh, and Toby and Jenna roll their eyes. "And an awesome family that never fails to keep my feet on the ground, while my head is in the clouds." He looked at his son. "Toby?"

"I'm thankful for a better art teacher at school, and I'm thankful for my friend Emily here, who has kindly agreed to spend Thanksgiving with my weird family," said Toby.

"They're not any weirder than you, Toby," said Emily, laughing. She dabbed at her lips with the napkin before continuing. "I'm thankful for the multiple families that are willing to offer me a home, including but not limited to: Rosewood Prep, the Rosewood Prep Sharks and the Cavanaugh family."

"How sweet, Emily," Mrs Cavanaugh gushed. "Jenna?"

"I'm thankful that I caught that sale at Barney's before it ended because I really needed a new designer bag." Jenna smirked. "Oh, and the five-day holiday, that's pretty cool," she added.

"Now, don't get me wrong," started Mrs Cavanaugh, "I love family, but what I'm really thankful for is that I now can buy myself that Balenciaga tote as a reward because..." She paused for dramatic effect. "I got the tenureship at NYU!"

Mr Cavanaugh leaned over the table to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations, Angela! That's amazing."

Toby's parents have put out quite the spread for Thanksgiving dinner. Besides the turkey, there were roast vegetables, chowder, freshly baked rolls and salad. Mr and Mrs Cavanaugh each enjoyed a glass of wine while Toby, Emily and Jenna had glasses of apple juice.

"Where do you work, Mr Cavanaugh?" asked Emily.

"I'm the founder and current CEO of Cavanaugh Capital."

"Basically he farts money," said Toby.

"Money that is going to pay for your architecture studies, son, so let's not get that attitude."

"Jenna, do you know Emily from school?" asked Mrs Cavanaugh.

"We live in the same hall but different floors. And we don't share classes." Jenna looked straight at Emily, who shifted nervously in her seat. "We don't play on the same team either," she added with a smirk.

"Yeah, Emily's a great swimmer. She's being scouted by colleges," said Toby.

"I'm surprised you don't take an interest in your brother's social life, Jenna," said Mrs Cavanaugh.

"Oh, I do." Jenna was nodding. "I just don't swing in Emily's scene, you know what I'm saying?"

Mr Cavanaugh leaned forward in his seat, amused. "You know, Jenna, we thought that if Toby started dating anyone, we'd hear it from you first, but you've surprised us," he said.

Jenna opened her mouth to reply, but Emily got there first. "Toby and I aren't dating."

Mr and Mrs Cavanaugh looked at each other, then back at Toby and Emily. "What?"

"She's right. We aren't dating. She's just a friend who needed a place to stay over Thanksgiving," explained Toby.

"Yeah, and I'm gay," said Emily. "My girlfriend and I broke up not too long ago."

"Oh," said Mr Cavanaugh.

"Oh," said Mrs Cavanaugh. She turned to Jenna. "I see you kept mum about this too."

Jenna sipped on her apple juice. "Well, I thought the misunderstanding was hilarious. Toby dating someone?" She scoffed. "Oh please, give me a break."

Emily glanced at Toby, who just looked down at his plate and finished his meal in silence.

Mrs Cavanaugh drove herself and Jenna into town early on Black Friday in order to get first picks at their favourite stores at the mall. Mr Cavanaugh left early too. He was heading just across the border to West Virginia to participate in a wine auction. Toby and Emily, who had done their shopping online before Black Friday, had made plans to explore the Chesapeake Bay boardwalk.

Although the sun was out, the boardwalk had significantly less people than average. Everyone had gone out shopping or were still sleeping off their turkey and mashed potatoes. Emily bought corndogs for her and Toby from a stand on the boardwalk. "This is a nice place," she said.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, it's different from the boardwalks in Texas, with the harsh sun and all. And it's different from Rosewood, where you'd be hard pressed to find water," said Emily.

Toby had a huge bite of his corndog. He spoke with his mouth full. "I bet."

The sound of bicycle gears clicking came from behind them. "Toby! Emily!" Paige was pedalling alongside them, smiling brightly.

"Hey Paige," said Emily. "Nice wheels."

"Thanks," said Paige. "Got Dad to stick it on the back of the car for me when they drove down from Connecticut. I needed a good bike ride."

"It's pretty impressive." Emily nodded approvingly.

"You guys still on for hanging out sometime before we go back to Rosewood?" asked Paige.

"Yeah," chorused Toby and Emily. "Tomorrow night at my place?" suggested Toby.

"Toby has a pretty cool place. No kid cousins running around," said Emily.

Paige laughed. "Yeah, but you got Jenna."

"Oh no, I have a little cabin-type thing to stay in. We won't breathing the same air as Jenna, promise," said Toby. "Em and I will pick up some pizza and onion rings at that place I mentioned."

"Do you guys need some money for that?" asked Paige.

Emily shook her head. "How about you get us some drinks, Paige?"

"I'll get some ginger ale and some soda?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Toby. "What do you like on your pizza?"

"Anything that hasn't got any mushrooms," replied Paige.

Emily smiled at her. "Duly noted. See you then."

Emily's lips felt raw. The wind on the boardwalk wasn't overly harsh, but it wasn't what she was accustomed to. She examined the redness around them in the mirror. "Toby, do you have lipbalm?"

Toby, who was by the stove making dinner, pointed at his nightstand. "There should be a tub of Vaseline in the first drawer."

"Okay, thanks." Emily opened the drawer and pulled out the Vaseline. While she was applying some on her lips, she noticed a spiral-bound book inside. She pulled it out carefully and opened it. There were pages of pencil drawings, mostly of houses and the insides of houses, shaded in meticulously with pencil. On some pages were haphazard, but still accurate, sketches of a very familiar brunette... "Toby? Why do you have drawings of Spencer?"

Toby practically sprinted from the kitchen. "What the hell? What are you doing with my sketchbook?" he demanded.

Emily looked down. "I got curious. It was in your nightstand drawer," she explained apologetically.

Toby took the sketchbook out of Emily's hands. "Please don't tell anyone," he said, eyes darting to everywhere else but Emily's. "Especially Spencer."

"I didn't know you had a thing for her," said Emily.

"Any other guy would have tried to ask her out, but to me, she's Spencer Hastings, you know?"

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Razor sharp and intimidating? I think most guys quake in their boots, even if they want to ask her out," she told Toby.

Toby managed a chuckle. "I just wish I didn't feel like such a loser around her," he said. "She noticed my costume at the Halloween dance, you know that?"

"Weren't you like Heathcliff or something?"

"Emily." Toby wrapped his arms around her. "This is why you're my best friend."

Paige, Emily and Toby were squashed together on the couch in Toby's cabin, watching a movie on his television. Paige had her face buried in Emily's arm. "Who picked this movie?" she asked.

"Emily," said Toby. He looked bored and somewhat dazed. It may have had something to do with the flask of whiskey he snuck in from the main house.

Emily was giggling at the television. The whiskey was mixed with the countless glasses of ginger ale that they've had, so she was slightly buzzed and warm around the edges. "You're such a scaredy cat, Paige?"

"I really hate scary movies."

"It's not really scary, it's a slasher flick. Just some crazy guy murdering a bunch of teenagers who are stupid enough to hang around in a strange place without parental supervision," said Emily. "The teenagers are most likely drunk," she added.

"Well, we're doomed then," said Paige, making a vague gesture at the three of them. She was the most sober, having made the decision not to have too much alcohol because she was planning on riding her bike back to her uncle's place.

On the other side of Emily, Toby had slumped over the arm of the couch, snoring softly. Paige chuckled. "I think that's a sign to call it a night," she told Emily.

"Don't be silly," said Emily. "Let's finish it, there isn't too long to go."

Paige glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. "No, seriously," she said. "It's late, I have to bike home, and if I have any more of that spiked ginger ale I'd either pee myself or wipe out on the way."

"Then stay the night."

"You sure that'll be okay with Toby's folks?"

"They wouldn't even know that you were here. And if they did, they'd probably think you were Toby's girlfriend. It's a win-win."

"You know, when you've had something to drink, you go all weird," said Paige.

Emily's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? I feel perfectly fine."

"Yeah right." Paige laughed. "Let's go to bed."

"Are you sure you don't wanna finish the movie?" asked Emily.

"I'm sure," said Paige. "Besides, Toby will have a serious backache if he stays in that position any longer. C'mon, let's move him."

Emily turned the television and the DVD player off before getting up. She helped Paige move Toby's legs on the couch and arrange his long body into a more comfortable position. "Do you think we should take his jeans off?" she asked Paige. "Jeans are horrible to sleep in."

"I guess we should," said Paige. Emily unzipped Toby's jeans while Paige worked to pull them off, leaving Toby in navy blue boxer briefs. "I've never undressed a guy before."

"Neither have I," said Emily. They both laughed.

Paige folded Toby's jeans neatly and placed them on the coffee table while Emily took the blankets from the recliner and threw them over Toby. Paige watched as Emily rinsed her face at the kitchen sink. "Are you going to get changed or something?" she asked her.

Emily shook her head as she walked to the other side of the room. "I'm too lazy to think about putting another set of clothes on," she said. Her hands worked inside her shirt to undo her bra, which she threw on top of her suitcase. Then she took her jeans off and stood there in her black boyshorts. "Come on, Paige, show me yours." She giggled.

Hesitantly, Paige undid the buttons on her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders, revealing a light blue cami underneath. Her jeans came off afterwards, and she stood there awkwardly in her underwear.

"Hey, we match!" said Emily, pointing at Paige's boyshorts, which were also black. Emily turned the lights off in the bed area. She hopped into Toby's bed. "Come here, Paige." She patted the space next to her.

"All right," said Paige, sliding in next to Emily under the covers. "Good night, Em."

It took a few seconds for a response from Emily. "I haven't shared a bed with anybody but Samara for a long time," she said.

"I bet," said Paige, unsure of her reply.

"I miss her," said Emily. "But not really." She turned on her side so that she was facing Paige. "I don't know why I'm saying what I'm about to say."

Paige looked at Emily. Her dark eyes had an odd shine to them. "Must be all that whiskey," she muttered, but she too, shifted so that she was on her side. They were face to face now.

Emily laughed, then took a deep breath. "I've always liked how you don't take yourself too seriously. You never have. I mean, Ali was always obsessed with meddling in other people's lives. She rarely took a breather from that and she thought she was invincible. I think she still does. Then there was Maya who would pull away every like, five minutes, to go on about how she was such a sinner and that loving me was a sin and that we were both going to hell. And Samara was always determined to stand out in a crowd, whether it was being the gayest or the biggest humanitarian person ever. She just wanted to stand out. But you, you're different."

"I'm not much for standing out," said Paige.

"I know," said Emily. The mattress creaked as she scooted closer to Paige. "I really, really like that." She reached out, cupping the brunette's cheek in her palm and leaned forward to kiss her.

Paige let Emily kiss her. She tasted like ginger with a bite of whiskey, and onions, but her lips were so soft that Paige desperately wanted to kiss her back. But she couldn't bring herself to. She pulled away, feeling a lot more sobered up.

"I'm sorry," said Emily, sitting up in bed. "That probably wasn't a good idea. I'm so sorry."

Paige got up and started putting her clothes back on. "I think I'm just gonna go home. My dad and uncle would still be out on the porch with beer or something," she said. "I'll see you at school." Paige hastily crammed her feet into her shoes and shrugged into her jacket before bolting out the door.