I love making people cry. It's like a goal in life, or something :) No seriously, though, I love all you guys. Your reviews are wonderful. Warm and fuzzy. Like bunny slippers. Yes, you guys are the warm fuzzy bunny slippers of my writing.


Chapter Ten

Three days had passed since the intimate moment—a week since the crash. Ashley had grown much quieter in that time, not to the point of coldness or animosity, but merely less vibrant than her usual self. Talks were still had, jokes were still made, and smiles were still shared, but the normally feisty brunette had definitely withdrawn. She kept busy with mindless tasks like collecting firewood and fashioning a second fishhook. The grotto was swept out and the floor lined with soft pine boughs in an attempt to make sleeping slightly more comfortable. Spencer's bandages were changed and finally removed to allow the wound circulation of fresh air.

Spencer, knowing it was best to give Ashley whatever space and quiet the brunette felt she needed, spent the time doing whatever work she could manage without hurting herself. Tending the fire. Cooking the fish Ashley had (reluctantly) caught for their nightly dinner. Washing their clothes and utensils. Laughing as Ashley teased her about being the 'dutiful housewife.' The brunette hadn't completely shut her out, which both surprised and pleased her.

When Ashley wasn't busy with other responsibilities, she sat by the fire, staring across the lake with a notebook open in front of her. It was her music composition book in which she confided her budding original melodies or lyrics. She always took it with her on trips away from home for the random moments when inspiration hit. In the back of her mind, she was thankful that Spencer knew her as well as she did: to know that she was very private about her music until it was ready to perform. Therefore, the blonde didn't pry.

The sun was unusually warm that first day of their second week, like the last breath of summer trying desperately to ward off the creeping autumn chill. Spencer practically begged Ashley to let her venture out into the woods surrounding their camp to see what kind of potentially edible vegetation was available. To say Ashley was hesitant was an understatement.

"Please?"

"Spence, I just don't want you to get hurt." The brunette sounded more than a little weary.

"I'll be close by, and I'll yell if I need you. Please? Don't make me pout."

"I don't understand why you won't let me come with you."

"Ash, you can't always be there for me." The older girl dropped her gaze as Spencer continued. "And I can't stand being stuck here all the time. It's boring."

"…You promise you'll be careful?"

"You know I will be."

"...All right," Ashley relented.

Just when she thought Spencer was going to squeal like a little kid, the blonde instead kissed the top of her head with a whispered thank you. Ashley had a soft smile on her face while she watched her friend gather up the compass, hunting knife, and flare gun before wandering off.

About two hours later, Ashley, clad only in a pair of short shorts and her bikini top, lay on the sandy lake shore on her stomach and propped up on her elbows. Working on her tan, no doubt. Spencer had asked the brunette one day why she had packed such an outfit, considering they would be camping out in the forest. The older girl had merely shrugged in a 'Why not?' sort of way.

With her song notebook before her and pen in hand, her foot bobbed in the air behind her as she scribbled on the music staves. Perfect pitch was a talent inherited from her rock star father and so she had no troubles dictating the melody in her mind down onto paper. The lyrics were written below the notes, and Ashley sung quietly along as her pen worked.

"Notice me. Take my hand.
Why are we strangers when
Our love is strong?
Why carry on without me?

Every time I try to fly, I fall
Without my wings, I feel so small.
I guess I need you, baby.
And every time I see you in my dreams,
I see your face; it's haunting me.
I guess I need you, baby."

The musician at work was unaware of the pair of blue eyes watching her. She didn't know a pair of ears was straining to pick up her softly sung words. She was oblivious to the expression shadowing delicate features: a look of want and need; of sadness and desire; of lust and love.

"I make believe that you are here.
It's the only way I see clear.
What have I done?
You seem to move on easy.

And every time I try to fly, I fall
Without my wings, I feel so small.
I guess I need you, baby.
And every time I see you in my dreams,
I see your face; you're haunting me.
I guess I need you, baby.

I may have made it rain.
Please forgive me.
My weakness caused you pain,
And this song's my sorry."

The singer had no idea that the lidded, darkened eyes and searing look fixed on her was the same expression aroused the day Ashley had divulged her 'first time with a girl' to the camera. Even if she noticed the look now, she wouldn't recognize it because she hadn't seen it back then. She was ignorant of the conflict behind blue orbs. The push and pull of too many thoughts and emotions. The constant warring of heart against mind.

"At night I pray
That soon your face will fade away.

And every time I try to fly, I fall
Without my wings, I feel so small.
I guess I need you, baby.
And every time I see you in my dreams,
I see your face; you're haunting me.
I guess I need you, baby."

As the final note drifted away, Ashley felt a prickle at the back of her neck, like she was being watched. Only, it was more electrifying than creepy, which always told her it was Spencer. She twisted her body to glance over her shoulder, but the blonde was nowhere in sight. Her brows knit together in confusion for a brief moment before she turned back to her notebook. Tapping her pen on the paper, she stared at her work for another minute before setting the pen down and closing it inside the pages.

Pushing herself up so that she was sitting, she loosely drew her knees to her chest and looked out across the lake. Despite their success with the fishhooks, Ashley knew it wasn't enough. On the chance that they weren't found soon, she was forced to think long tern, something she rarely excelled at. The lake only held so much marine life, and two people plundering it on a daily basis would eventually take its toll, especially once their rations ran out.

Spencer surely wasn't oblivious to the fact. She was out at that precise moment looking for a source of usable plants. But Ashley knew they'd need more. She was no nature expert, and she certainly was no hunter, but they would have to turn to the area's wildlife. With that in mind, she opened the survival kit and pulled out the long thin case containing the disassembled hunting rifle. As she took the different sections of the firearm out, Spencer finally walked back into camp.

"Find anything interesting?" Ashley asked without looking up from her task.

The other girl sat down next to the brunette. "I saw a couple chipmunks."

"Really? I didn't hear you scream…"

"Hey!" Ashley snickered, even as Spencer smacked her on the arm. The blonde watched her friend as she assembled the hunting rifle. "Getting tired of me?" she teased.

"Never."

"Then what's with the rifle?"

"I just thought I'd put it together…you know…just because…" Ashley was a horrible liar when it came to the blonde.

"Going hunting?" Even as the words came out of her own mouth, Spencer's face slowly fell, her smile fading and her eyes clouding with new awareness. "They're…they're not going to find us…are they…?"

The understanding had been there. Both girls had known of the possibility. Ashley had resigned herself to it as fact days before. Unlike Spencer, she didn't have the luxury of hope. A girl with a twelve point five million dollar inheritance, and hope was the one thing she couldn't afford. Relying on a prayer, sinking into that false security would only spell their deaths. She could accept that. She had accepted the worst most of her life.

Spencer was different.

The blonde had grown up in the illusion of a perfect world. A world where everyone was safe and happy and any problems could be fixed with a hug and a smile. A world that had slowly begun to unravel for her in the past months, tearing at the threads of her soul, chipping away at the shell of her innocence piece by piece. And yet, even as the mirage continued to fade, she still clung to it, stubbornly and more desperately than before.

And it broke Ashley's heart. She wanted to shield the girl from it, protect her from the harsh light of day, preserve that innocence and bear the burden for her, even if for only a few moments longer. But reality was knocking, and she was helpless against it.

She set the rifle down and drew Spencer closer. A kiss was pressed to the taller girl's forehead and arms held her tightly. "I don't know the answer to that, Spence…but I told you I'd get us through this, and that's not a promise I intend on breaking."


Author's note: You guys remember that look on Spencer's face during that scene in "First Time," right? The one where you can't tell if she's pissed off, turned on, or both? Yeah, that one. Anyway, that song was "Everytime." Yes, I used a Britney Spears song. Sue me :)