so i had this written out for awhile, but i couldn't find it on my computer. for whatever reason, i saved it with the file name being 'facking england' so i never thought to open that particular file to find this chapter.

i don't really know what to think of myself sometimes.

anyway, thanks for reviews, and stuff. i'm not ungrateful. i'm the opposite of ungrateful. i'm grateful.

SPENCER POV

"Ashley!" I yelled through the house, still throwing stuff in my bag as I walked along, "If you don't hurry the hell up, we're going to be late, and that's so not the impression you want to make on mom!"

I hear a muffled reply coming somewhere from the direction of the bedroom, so I start making my way towards it.

Walking through the doorway, I find Ashley face down on my bed, head under a pillow and legs and arms spread out as far as she apparently good get them. It's quite cute, truthfully. Too bad I have to end it.

I crawl my way up her body and lay down, kissing her neck and lifting the pillow up to stick mine under it as well.

"What the hell are you doing exactly?"

She grumbles out something that I can't even almost decipher.

"Once again, your majesty?"

She turns her head to the side and says, "I was trying to take a nap before you laid your big ass on top of me."

"Is that a fat joke?"

I swear I can hear her smirk.

"It's certainly not a skinny joke."

I reach my arm down and pinch her side.

"Ow! I was joking, for christ's sake!"

I chuckle into the back of her hair before rolling off and cuddling into her side.

"You're supposed to be helping me pack."

"Spencer, we're going to your parents house for a week. You don't need to 'pack.' You need to 'stuff clothes in a bag.'"

She rolls her head over to face me and kisses my cheek.

"I'd rather pack too much than not enough. Sue me for thinking ahead."

"I'm sorry- is there a huge possibility that we'll be holed up in the storm cellar for months on end?"

I roll my eyes, "For your sake I hope not. Because I'm making you sleep outside."

She chuckles and rolls over on her side, burying her head in the crook of my neck.

"Can we nap now?"

I groan and sit up.

"We don't have time. We need to leave here in about a half hour if we're going to make it on time."

Ashley pulls me back down and resumes her position.

"It takes like two minutes to get from here to the car. So, if my subtraction is correct, we're left with about twenty eight minutes to snooze happily."

As appealing as that sounds, I know we can't, so I roll out of bed, and tug her along with me, chuckling lightly at her over dramatic grumbles.

"I either sleep now or the entire way there and leave you with nobody to talk to. Your choice, babe."

I pull her hips against mine and kiss her sweetly.

"I'll just dispense the airbag if it looks like you're dozing off."

ASHLEY POV

You ever have that feeling that your whole life is a continuous ticking time bomb? Like you've been dealing with all of this crap behind closed doors, and it's just a matter of time before it all explodes in your face? Yeah. That's my life. And you'd think, wouldn't you, that I'd wise up after the first few times I find myself up shit creek with out a paddle or a boat, but no. I never learn my lesson.

Thus, when my phone rings, a name flashing across the screen that I don't want to deal with, but have to, as I'm in the car with Spencer, I find myself internally beating the total shit out of myself. They say god has a sense of humor. I say he's just a sadistic old fuck.

I answer my phone nonchalantly, trying to give Spencer no reason to be suspicious. It's one of those situation where you overplay the nonchalance and it becomes incredibly... chalant? Whatever.

The person on the other end of the line babbles continuously, and I'm only paying half attention.

"Yeah... yeah, I know. - I will. - Ok. - I will. Bye."

I flip my phone shut and go back to staring out the window, relacing my hand with Spencer's across the gearshift.

"Who was that? You seemed rather short with them," she chuckles, "Not that you're not usually short with everyone, but anyway."

"Nobody, really. Just, ya know..." I use my free hand to gesture vaguely, "People."

"People?"

"People."

She nods and smiles slightly before furrowing her eyebrows.

"Like... mob people?"

I roll my eyes.

"Do I look like a gangster?"

"It's called undercover."

"It's called mentally retarded."

"It's called sticking my foot up your ass if you don't start being nicer."

I laugh and lift her hand to my mouth, kissing the back of her hand.

"You're cute when you think you're scary."

She smacks me lightly and glares at me before turning her eyes back to the road.

"Seriously, though, everything okay? That didn't exactly sound like a pleasant conversation."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"It's cool, really. Just taking care of stuff that I stupidly procrastinated."

She looks at me, raising her eyebrows.

"You seriously sound like you're using thug code words."

"I've never met a thug who knew the definition of 'procrastinated.'"

"So you admit you know thugs?"

"Spence, if it'll appease you, we'll pretend for now that yes, I know thugs and yes, I am involved in the mob. Damn. My identity has been compromised."

She spills out a triumphant "Ah ha!" and I suddenly realize that I'm dating a real nerd and smile inwardly.

"So how much further away are we?"

She scrunches her eyebrows and tries to read the next interstate sign.

"Like... about another hour?"

"Is this a real world hour, or like the time you said "I'll be over in an hour" and it was like... a week later that you finally showed up?"

"You exaggerate a lot."

"Backatcha, babe," I say sweetly, leaning in swiftly to kiss her cheek before reclining my seat and propping my feet on the dashboard.

I let out a content sigh and snuggle up in seat, closing my eyes and preparing for what I believe will be a life changing nap.

I hear a throat clearing and open my eyes, taking note of the incredulous look Spencer is giving me.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to be doing sleeping."

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Uh, I never rely on you to be thinking, so it's okay."

She slaps my thigh.

"You aren't allowed to go to sleep."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you have to keep me company!"

"My body will still be here. You'll still have company."

"I'm going to ram the passenger side of this car into a telephone pole if you close your eyes again."

I laugh at her and she gives me her best "i'm serious" face.

"I'm terrified."

"As you should be. Now come on, let's play like... a road game or something," she says, childishly excited and I grin again.

"Road games? Are we eleven?"

"A lesson on maturity, from you? Really?"

I pinch her side lightly, but sit my seat back up to it's proper location.

"Can we skip the road games? And I'll be all super-hot-girlfriend and go down on you while you're driving."

She blushes slightly before rolling her eyes.

"I don't think it really works properly with two women."

I wink at her and smirk.

"Only one way to find out, yeah?"

I playfully trail my fingers across her thigh, enjoying how much she squirms.

"Ash, seriously, stop."

Because I listen so well, right? Instead I lift up the folded seat between us and scoot over, nibbling gently on her ear, seriously a bit turned on at the way she shivers. She's way too easy.

"Ashleyyy," she wines.

"Spencerrrrr," I say, voice down a few octaves.

"You're going to make me wreck."

"I'll take the wheel."

She scoffs.

"Because that comforts me, of course. You drive like a maniac."

I kiss her neck and grin when she slaps me.

"Lucky for you I do many things like a maniac."

She reaches into the compartment against the door and looks down briefly to get whatever she's looking for. She shakes a little bottle around meaningfully.

"I swear I'm going to mace you if you don't get back in your seat."

"Oh, you so would not."

"Try me."

Is it sad that I do believe my own girlfriend would mace me?

I groan and slide back over, pouting playfully.

"You suck all the fun out of my life."

"The beauty of relationships, eh?"

I stick my tongue out at her as my phone starts ringing and I answer it without checking the caller i.d.

"Yeah?," I say absentmindedly, smiling at the invisible patterns Spencer is tracing across my palm with her fingers.

"Is this Ashley Davies?," comes the reply, some snotty sounding guy breathing heavily through the line.

"Uh, if you called Ashley Davies' number, then yes, one would presume that Ashley Davies is the one answering. Who is this?" I catch Spencer's eye and note that she's laughing silently, and I raise her hand back up to my mouth, kissing gently.

"This is Frank Morlo, calling on behalf of Ms. Evelyn Thompson, regarding setting up a date for the custody hearing of Trent Davies-Thompson. Will you be available on the twenty-second of-"

"I.. I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," I reply, before shutting my phone and turning it off.

Spencer looks at me quizzically.

"Who was that?"

"Just.. Telemarketers."

She nods and points out the next interstate sign coming up.

"We'll be there in fifteen minutes. I can't wait for you to meet my parents," she looks at me briefly, squeezing my hand and smiling.

"Yeah.. me either," I say quietly, squeezing her hand back and averting my gaze back to my window.

i plan on updating more consistently than i usually do.

but you should be warned that most thing i 'plan to do' usually end up, what's the saying for it? oh, right. 'not getting done.'