All The Promises

by spinoza-off

A sequel to "Speeding Up". Spencer and Emily are already a couple, but will they survive A's threats as well as their own fears and restraints?

26. Fire

A/N: There's an M-part.

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It was 1 a.m when they all walked out to the Hastings' driveway and headed for their cars, ready to go home at last. They were all looking so tired, eyes glazed and blurry due to the lack of sleep on a school night. Spencer, however, had the most tired eyes of all, especially after discussing schemes and plans for tomorrow (one might say today) with Caleb under the anxious vigilance of Hanna. Caleb was taking the phone with him. That basically meant he was taking their hopes and fears with him without him even knowing; obviously it wasn't his fault; it was just the way things were always for them. Always their hopes and fears were in someone else's hands, someone whom they didn't even figure out. Sometimes it was the police or a judge or a missing therapist or a lawyer (Spencer's mom, but those were the bearable hands), most times the psycho-stalker, psycho-killer's hands, evil and unknown to all, invisible for all except for the couple of times Spencer, Hanna or Emily had encountered him or her closely, in Emily's case too closely tonight.

So it was nice to have Caleb's hands on their life for a change.

It was still exhausting and scary. It could be exhausting and scary for him too, if he ever knew what it truly meant for them to have him there, to give him the phone, to hand out every one of their secrets, of their dreams to him.

Emily's dreams.

Spencer felt like she was offering Emily's dreams to Caleb, thus her own dream of living the dream with her.

Hanna felt like she was offering Caleb, who was a dream himself. But the dream could turn out to be a nightmare if he was in danger because of her - because of them.

Aria was just too sleepy to think about it, and her dreams were already risky and hesitant with the on and off situation she lived every day, torn between Ezra Fitz and her parents. Besides, she was worried about Emily and Spencer. She was worried about Hanna too. But she was too sleepy so she'd keep worrying about all of them tomorrow. Now she was just dreaming of a pillow to hug and squeeze under her head.

Too many dreams, in any case.

Too many hopes.

Too many secrets and sacrifices Caleb was unaware of.

Hopefully it'd be over soon.

Emily had no car to head for, so she approached Hanna's knowing that, for once, she'd have to take her crazy driving; she really didn't like Hanna's driving skills. She always felt like they were going to hit a stray dog or a wandering drunk person. But she also knew they'd first have to go to Lucas' to drop Caleb off before going home to Ms. Marin's fast-asleep ignorance, so maybe she'd get what? Possibly about five hours of sleep at most. Spencer hadn't said anything about staying tonight and Emily didn't dare bring it up again, especially not after the look of utter shock Spencer had given her before running away from the kitchen half an hour ago. It wasn't like Spencer to run away from her, from anything. However, Spencer was focused on the phone right now. Not only that, Emily would have to give her time to adjust to it… meaning tonight, meaning everything that had happened, everything that she'd done and said; meaning also the plan that Spencer had said was a proof Emily was losing her mind. But she wasn't. She really wasn't.

She was just trying to find her own way to fight A.

Slamming the door shut, Emily sat on the backseat and rested her head against the window, closing her eyes. The race, feet touching the soil. Ray-shooting arm, a picture of her Caleb would perhaps see once he managed to crack the phone and access the files. Spencer. Spencer's red colors, Spencer's blank, pale face, Spencer's fire and Spencer's ice, combining in her mind with the real sound of her voice scratching the air in the still night, outside the car. She was asking questions to Caleb, trying to conceal the command that was essentially hers, unsuccessfully trying to sound nice and reasonable to Caleb's ears and eyes.

Always the double star, always fire and ice.

Emily opened her eyes again to search for the real image, so she could replace the mixture of emotions with the reality of Spencer's presence here and now. But Spencer had suddenly grown silent. Everybody was silent as Hanna opened the door and plopped on the seat with her usual exhibition of annoyance when she was pissed and tired and worried too. Caleb followed, a more fluid movement as he let his body adjust to the passenger's seat, a smooth guy with bad-boy looks.

Aria got into her car and started the engine before anyone else.

Spencer was standing in front of Hanna's car, her arms crossed and a frown on her forehead.

Thinking, calculating, evaluating.

Searching.

Her eyes cut through the glass of the windshield like an electric scalpel would cut through the skin, directly to the backseat, ignoring everything else in the middle.

Emily's heart jumped, both in joy and freight.

Did that mean they could get to say a word to each other? Should she get out of the car again, exposing herself to Hanna's moodiness, exposing everything to the public eye?

Like in the movies.

Music raging loud inside, turbulence in the air.

Like that day in the park.

But it was daylight, the sun was shining, there were kids running around and playing with a ball, they'd argued about something stupid, not like tonight - nobody had been under fire like it'd happened tonight.

That day in the park Emily had guessed what being in love meant.

What it really meant.

Her hand was starting to reach for the handle when Spencer walked steadily to the window and knocked, and Emily's fingers rushed instead to press the window down.

Words.

Spencer seemed to be at a loss of them too.

It was Hanna who decided to speak for both of them, while Aria blew the horn as she waved goodbye with one hand, the other one grabbing the wheel.

"Great", Hanna growled, her pissed off tone contradicting the sweet smile she directed to Aria through the window. "Now you need a kiss goodnight, Spencer? Couldn't you do it earlier?"

Spencer shot a dirty look both to Hanna's back and to the rearview mirror. Then she lowered down her eyes to Emily.

"Why don't you stay?", Spencer said, and it was more of an order than of a question, like it usually happened with her. "We should still talk about everything."

Meaning…

Oh, Emily was so tired. But, yes, they did need to talk. And to be together. And to be alone.

The only moment they'd be alone.

"Having sex doesn't exactly count as talking, Spence."

Again, Hanna offered her caustic advice. Even though she'd mentioned Spencer's name, she was looking at Emily in the rearview mirror. Therefore, the dirty look was shot in return by Emily now, while Spencer simply ignored the comment.

"I can drive you before Ms. Marin wakes up", Spencer proposed, always devising a plan, "so you're not grounded during the weekend."

Emily just nodded and reached for the handle again, not even thinking about Hanna's response.

"Just go", Hanna said anyway, finally turning around to talk to Emily. This time she didn't sound annoyed. Then she looked at Spencer in the window. "Drop her off before 6 and my mom won't know."

Spencer nodded too.

Emily found her little voice and thanked Hanna, because Hanna was mad at her but they'd be all right, they'd work it out. Then she got out of the car and followed Spencer, who was already walking towards the front door of her house, her back a symbol both of her leadership and of their inability to reach a verbal understanding. Soon they were back to where they'd been before, the kitchen, as if the brief moment outside hadn't even existed in time.

They were inside, together, alone.

The dance, the circle of wordless gazes and tentative moves began once again.

Emily was actually a little hungry now. She'd barely eaten anything since she had lunch, so she approached the fridge, hoping to buy some time for her and to offer it to Spencer. It was an opportunity to buy time that Spencer used just to go back to scrutinizing Emily's every movement as she took out the cheese Hanna had already eaten a while ago. This seemed to be a pattern and it had to do with cheese. Hanna and Emily lived together. Spencer guessed that explained their common obsession with eating cheese when they were anxious.

"I can fix you something else", Spencer offered, her tone soft, "if you're hungry."

Emily swallowed a piece of cheese.

"I'm fine."

I'm fine. She was repeating this all the time, like it'd work magic. But she wasn't fine.

Spencer moved towards one of the cupboards and took a frying pan out. Then she put butter on it and started preparing two sandwiches to grill them in the pan. She did like to take care of things, so Emily sat on a stool and waited until the sandwich was presented to her on a plate. There was some inner satisfaction Spencer found in making a sandwich the proper way and presenting it on a plate. Eating like a savage, directly from the fridge, probably made her uneasy. Thus, Emily ate her sandwich like the good girl she'd always been, next to Spencer, who sat on a stool too and ate her own sandwich because she was really hungry as well and, when they finished, Emily allowed Spencer to grab the plates and place them in the sink.

"Are you thirsty?", Spencer asked, shielded by questions, "will you need painkillers?"

Emily nodded to both, because she was going to get thirsty after the sandwich and because the thigh had been bothering her with tiny squeals for a few minutes, and Spencer opened the fridge again, took out a bottle of water, opened a drawer and took out some pills.

"Let's go."

Okay.

Go.

Let's go have a talk.

Another one.

Emily moved, following Spencer's steps up the stairs to the bedroom, thinking the moment her head rested on a pillow she was going to fall into the deepest, fastest sleep she'd ever had. Or so she hoped. She was a little afraid she'd have nightmares about A, about running and swimming, about Spencer's ice.

"I can take the spare bed", Emily hesitantly offered as she stood in the middle of Spencer's room, an odd feeling of déjà vu conquering her mind, "if you're still mad."

Spencer closed a drawer and threw a couple of shorts which Emily caught in the air. Then she sat on her ample bed, choosing to ignore Emily's comment about the spare bed.

"I think you can sleep in that top", she said, observing Emily's sweater under which there was the red tank top she'd given her before, "but I can give you another one if you want."

Emily nodded at the first comment, shook her head no at the second one.

They stared at each other, calculating the damages keeping them from getting to the core of the problem.

Spencer had said they still needed to talk about everything.

But what was everything? Everything they'd already talked about? Or just Emily's last words about quitting the team before A released the HGH report?

"Why do you always say you're gonna take the spare bed, Emily?"

There was a clear tinge of impatience dripping through Spencer's voice.

"It's not always…" It wasn't always. She wasn't always like this. She'd gladly share the bed every night if she could. "It's just in case you don't wanna share the bed with me if you're still mad, that's all."

Spencer cut through her with tired eyes, the scalpel still working fine.

"Every time there's a problem you say you're gonna sleep in another bed."

Apparently, the damage hadn't reached bottom down yet.

"It's not every time."

She just thought Spencer might need the space. Was that so bad? In truth she just wanted to know if Spencer was still so mad or hurt or whatever. But everything she was saying made her angrier, so probably… yes, she was.

"Even if I'm pissed", Spencer said, acknowledging it in some way, although in the kitchen she'd said she was more scared than pissed, and then she'd just looked plain shocked, "it doesn't mean I don't wanna sleep with you… or next to you." She seemed hesitant about the proper expression. "You know, in the same bed. I still wanna do that."

There was information in those words that might help Emily feel her way through the cold, troubled night.

One, Spencer was still mad, scared, shocked…

Two, Spencer wanted to share the bed with her.

Three, it pissed Spencer off that she'd offered her space.

"I'm gonna change", Emily announced, turning around on her way to the bathroom.

She did need to think about how she was going to deal with those three pieces of information.

"And now you also need to change in another room?"

Spencer's tone was a mixture of extreme impatience and bitter mockery.

"I…"

"Is it in case I don't wanna see you naked? You know, because I'm still mad?"

Emily breathed, trying to catch the sense of irony in the words.

But she was too tired already.

Failing at conversation was sodamn exhausting.

Maybe it was her who needed space from the sarcasm and the constant examination of each other.

"It's hard enough to be here and not know what to do or say to you, okay?", she snapped, suddenly feeling offended and worn out. "You told me I was going crazy and then I thought you wouldn't speak to me until hell froze over."

"Apparently that already happened, cause I am talking to you like every other time you think I'm never gonna do it again."

Emily started pulling down her pants.

Spencer wanted to see her naked?

Fine.

Spencer wanted to share the bed?

That was fine too.

Spencer wanted to have a fight?

Well, all right!

If they weren't going to comfort each other or say the right things, they might as well have it.

So let's have it.

"Will you stop the bitchiness, Spence? How are we supposed to talk like this?"

She carelessly threw the pants on the chair next to the study table, but thought it over and approached the chair to fold the pants. Then she put on the shorts, her legs exposed. Catching Spencer's stare on them made her feel warm for an instant, the instant it took to remember Spencer was staring at the bandage over her thigh and not exactly at her body in that specific way she was already used to receiving from her.

"I'll stop the bitchiness when you stop doing stupid things", Spencer fought back after staring at her legs, which were a good reminder of all those stupid things Emily had done, "and saying you're gonna quit the team."

Hit.

Here we go.

Emily pulled the sweater over her head and threw it on the table. And this time she didn't bother folding it.

"I didn't say that exactly."

"But you're thinking about it!", Spencer shouted, impatience breaking through.

Thank god there was no one here tonight. On second thought, if there were someone here tonight, Emily wouldn't be sleeping in this room or in that bed. It was unlikely Spencer's mom would allow it to happen another time.

Spencer started taking off her own white pants as a way to calm down.

Then she unbuttoned her blouse.

"I don't even know when you started thinking about this", she mumbled through gritted teeth.

"I started thinking about it when I realized A had a copy of the HGH, Spencer."

"And it didn't occur to you to share that thought with me, right? Just like the other ones."

Emily was starting to feel confused.

Was the problem that she didn't share the thought until tonight? But she hadn't done anything yet!

Or was the problem that she might actually do it?

"It's not something I wanna do!", Emily protested, taking the second route, "just like the other things I didn't wanna do but I'm doing for us."

She stressed the last part, hoping for the message about them being together as a couple to make it through the air to Spencer's ears. But apparently it never got there the way she intended it because it didn't erase the scowl on Spencer's face.

Now in her panties and a loose T she'd taken from under the pillow, Spencer went under the sheets.

"I don't want you to do that for us, Emily", Spencer replied, showing she had indeed received the message, "and you're not gonna do it."

It sounded terminal.

"Fine."

Emily advanced some steps to the common bed and covered herself with the sheets too.

They were now both in bed but nowhere near each other.

Besides, the sheets were scrunchy and cold.

"I mean it", Spencer warned, reaching out for the lamp to turn the light off, "I really mean it, Em."

Terminal.

If Spencer wanted terminal, she'd get terminal.

"Yep."

The light went off and complete darkness took over.

"Stop talking in monosyllables like you just want me to shut up!"

It hadn't taken long for Spencer to snap at Emily's terminal words, and Emily turned to face the dark, grasping Spencer's form next to her.

"You just listen to yourself", Emily fired back, because no one was listening to her tonight and Spencer wasn't listening either. She'd just listened for a moment and then she had fled the kitchen like Emily was too dangerous and derailed to touch or bear the sight of. And she needed Spencer here and now. "It's just you and your orders. You want me to tell you everything but then you don't wanna listen to me."

This was officially a fight.

"Of course I don't wanna listen to you saying you're gonna quit the team when it's not even remotely necessary!"

"Yeah, right." That came out as two monosyllables so Emily decided to go on. "Because only you get to decide what's necessary in our world."

Hit.

And this one was bad.

"What do you need to prove, Emily?", Spencer hit back, a fighter who was never afraid to get trapped into the crossfire. "That you have rights to speak up and do your own thing without getting drunk? So go ahead and fuck your life up, c'mon! But I won't help you do it."

Fire.

Fire everywhere.

The world was on fire now.

More than the comment about getting drunk or about fucking her life up, it was the speak-up challenge. Back in the kitchen, only an hour ago, when they seemed to connect for a moment, Emily had worked so hard to deactivate the obsession about equality only to bring it back right now in this fight.

Fuck.

But she would indeed speak up now.

"You said you'd go to jail for us and I had to take it although I never liked it." Suddenly all the words were slipping from her tongue like they were ice cream, easy and cold. "I told you I wanted you to have a life even if we weren't together for a while and you went all crazy about it saying you wouldn't let A take control of us like that."

That summer night was present tonight so they'd better talk about it clearly.

"Now I say I might quit the team for the exact same reason and you go all bitchy like you're the only one who can say what to do and what not for our relationship", she paused to breathe quickly, "like you're the only one who can make sacrifices and is allowed to bring those things up and do whatever needs to be done whenever you think it's right and necessary."

Wow. That was a lot to say, actually.

She breathed, this time deeply.

There was a silence.

Emily could imagine Spencer going livid.

And the light proved it when Spencer turned it on again. She sat up, too worked up to continue lying down, and the covers fell down abruptly on her side.

"How can you say that?", Spencer replied, and every word sounded like a chewing bullet. "It's not the same thing! How can I even answer that when you don't even get it?"

She did look like she didn't even know where to begin with the explanation of everything that was wrong in Emily's words.

She would've never gone to jail voluntarily.

She would've never quit her freedom on purpose, letting A get his/her/its way.

"Sorry, Spencer, but I am dumb. You should get a smarter girlfriend… or a boyfriend."

Fuck.

Fighting was awful and it got the worst out of her.

"I'm not gonna let you put things on me like they're my fault when it's all your own decision!"

Exactly.

"Exactly, it's not your freaking fault", Emily agreed, "and thank you very much for admitting it is my decision."

Control-freak.

Spencer was a control-freak. And she was domineering. And she thought everything fell under her responsibility.

"You're not fucking quitting the team, Emily!"

And this was the language Spencer talked when she lost control. A language of impositions.

There was no way they could get anything out of this conversation.

No way.

"Yessir!", Emily shouted back, preparing to stab Julius Caesar. "Yes, my lord!"

Stick the knife.

Kill Julius Caesar now.

No, but she wouldn't kill her. She couldn't kill her.

She just needed to get out, to get space out of this room.

Emily flung the covers away and went out of bed in a single move, the kind of which she made when she was angry as hell, which didn't happen that often but was happening a lot tonight, but the abrupt move made her leg hurt and she grimaced in response, walking barefoot to the door so Spencer wouldn't notice her humiliating pain and anger.

She wouldn't kill Spencer but she needed to get out, to breathe out of this room.

It was so fucking difficult to talk.

"Where do you think you're going now? Are you running back to Hanna's or to the forest?"

Ouch.

Emily turned around.

"Wouldn't you love that?"

"I was the one who asked you to stay!"

"And I was the one who offered to stay so we could talk! And all we do is fight!"

She left.

She shouldn't have left. People were not supposed to leave a room when they were fighting. At least, people who loved each other and fought because they cared about each other and not because of some other thing. But she was suddenly so angry and it was probably because she was feeling so tired and also because it hurt to hear that she was trying to fuck up her life and that she was losing her mind when she was not. So she was being mean to Spencer and Spencer was being mean to her. And it was awful because Spencer had really had a hard time tonight and had been really scared and it was all Emily's fault, and Emily knew how freaked out Spencer got when she was scared, just like Hanna had said to her in the kitchen.

She shouldn't have left.

Running down, she turned around and ate up the steps she'd already left behind - turbulence in the air, a whirlwind inside her head.

When she opened the door Spencer was still sitting up on the bed, in the same exact position and with the most perplexed expression she'd ever worn.

"I'm sorry", Emily said, "I'm sorry I left and I'm sorry I said those things."

Still looking puzzled, Spencer nodded.

"I'm sorry too."

They were both sorry.

Was that good?

"I don't wanna fight", Emily insisted, still standing by the door, "I love you."

From her position, she could see Spencer struggling to choke down the tears.

"I love you too", Spencer replied, voice broken once again, "and I don't wanna fight either or get bitchy with you, it's just…"

She didn't really want her to quit the team, on top of everything else that had already happened. It was too much.

Emily knew it was too much for both of them, right now.

"I know you don't want me to quit the team and I don't wanna do it either, Spencer."

"It'll kill you", Spencer repeated, "and if it kills you it'll kill me too."

Emily looked down, tears reaching her eyes for the millionth time during the night.

Because she knew… it was too much.

"Come here", Spencer called, "come back to bed. We need to get some sleep, we're too tired to talk now."

Yes, they were too tired to talk now. It'd been a bad idea to even try.

Emily approached the bed and hopped back into the covers.

She took Spencer's hand in hers, tears still stingy and pushy in her eyes.

"Let's not fight."

This time she pushed a little further than the last time, pulling Spencer's arm towards her body for a hug. Spencer didn't resist now. She felt her arms clinging to her back, her warm, fresh breath on her neck.

"I'm gonna kill you if you do this again", Spencer whispered to her neck, and although it sounded kind of muffled it had a distinct meaning. "And I won't let you quit the team, Em, I won't."

Emily held her more tightly.

"It's not gonna happen. I'm okay."

"You're not."

"I'm not."

Emily conceded it and this time it didn't sound like a monosyllable that was meant to shut Spencer up. It was blunt and raw and true, and a few tears escaped from her eyes. Nothing terrible, but it just needed to happen because she wasn't okay, she wasn't fine, she was afraid and tired and beaten up and she was now in Spencer's arms, so she could actually, finally let it go. The immediate response was an even tighter embrace which squeezed the air out of Emily's lungs. If Spencer wasn't careful Emily was going to get a broken rib too, in addition to the cuts and scratches. She was being held so strongly that her tears flooded out in a rush, so she kissed Spencer's temple and she kissed Spencer's brow as a response, wanting to stop the tear-flow.

They were little kisses and pecks, light and soft.

"Kissing's not gonna fix this problem."

Spencer's words came out breathlessly, because she was still trying to choke down her own tears. But she also spoke as though those little kisses were meant to break out and spring and blossom into a make-out session.

Which they weren't.

They were just comfort-kisses, meant to… comfort each other.

So the kisses kept coming and Emily kissed Spencer's cheek too, which was humid because, of course, she was finally crying some Hastings tears, tears she was trying to hold back and hide from everyone's sight, including Emily's, and Emily kissed them while they trailed down her face, tasting the subtly sweet, delicate salt in them, just like Spencer had kissed her that night when she got drunk and puked under a tree, and then Emily kissed Spencer's forehead where her hair started to fall down in waves, once the ponytail had been undone before getting into bed. But she kept away from her lips and the surroundings of her mouth so Spencer wouldn't think she was trying to make out as a way to seek comfort after a horrible day and a nasty fight.

And then Spencer kissed her too.

Neck kisses.

They were brief kisses, nothing else, kisses meant to prove who was right and who was wrong tonight.

Embracing each other on the bed, both of them sitting on their knees, fingers carefully touched Emily's wounded, bandaged hand.

"Does it hurt?"

"No", Emily denied, "but the leg's bothering me a little."

"You should sleep on your back tonight."

They finished comforting each other and Emily swallowed a painkiller and lied down on her back while Spencer turned off the light again.

Both on their backs now, contemplating the slow dancing shadows up in the ceiling, a persistent dance Emily and Spencer had kept in their memory ever since sleepovers at the Hastings' started to become a habit, although, in truth, you could see the ceiling dance in every one's room, except in Aria's because she really liked to sleep in the most complete darkness, the minutes passed. It was so late. They had to go to school in a few hours. School, the Marin's house. Everything seemed so strange in their lives all the time.

Spencer's breathing evened out and reached a regular, easy tranquillity.

Did that mean she was sleeping?

It was funny: Emily had thought the second her head touched the pillow she would pass out. But now she couldn't sleep. Her body was sore and weary all over, but her mind was restless. Was it like this how Spencer felt when she went on those periods of crazy passion about their investigAtion or about final exams? Emily turned a little to look at Spencer's bony, proportioned form under the covers. Spencer was a little far away. Normally, when they got to sleep together, which wasn't often, in fact this was the third time ever since they started dating, they would spoon each other. Well, Spencer would spoon her mostly. Spencer was a big spoon. But maybe she was trying to be careful around her wounds. Or maybe they were still apart, even though they'd hugged and cried and comforted each other. Or maybe Spencer couldn't sleep, although she did seem to be sleeping. Or maybe it was because she wasn't sleeping and had unconsciously moved away.

Had she moved away?

God.

She was going crazy after all.

Wasn't there a way to turn off the brain and shut it down? Besides alcohol and drugs?

She knew it was going to be difficult tomorrow again and she needed some rest. Because of the phone they'd have to work extra hours with Caleb, keep Hanna under control, they'd have to do homework and she still had to train in the pool. What was she going to say about her wounds? She'd have to come up with a good excuse, because people would ask. People always asked, always made assumptions, always gossiped around.

HGH.

Maybe Spencer would never understand but she had said she was ready to go to jail. Emily was drunk that night but she heard the words, she heard the voice talking to her in this room, in this very same bed. Of course Emily knew it wasn't the same thing. It wasn't about sacrificing herself just for the sake of it. No, it was about keeping them safe and sacred, about offering the best she could offer. It was about that. But she hadn't offered the best tonight: she regretted saying what she'd said, because she'd said a lot of stupid things during the fight, things that were probably hurting Spencer. Spencer was obsessed with Julius Caesar after the kitchen conversation about Alison and then Emily had accused her of always getting her way, which anyway was the truth, because she always got her way, but she never did it in a dictatorial manner. Then again, Emily had also said the equality thing and that didn't play in her favor either. She just meant they needed to make decisions on the same terms. But the HGH decision… it wasn't even a decision she had already made; it was just a last option, last kind of resort. What she'd wanted to say was that the HGH was her problem, although it did affect them both. She knew it would affect Spencer too. But that was why they needed to discuss it rationally, instead of during a fight. And still, she knew it'd be so much easier for A to control the consequences of the HGH, precisely because the HGH had actually run through Emily's veins, while Spencer had never done a thing against Dr. Sullivan. It wasn't like Veronica Hastings would be able to save her from this even if she wanted to… which was doubtful. Her dad wouldn't save her from this either, because the HGH… it was beyond the tricks of law and the hardships and honors of war. Nobody would ever doubt an actual blood test that had been taken in an actual hospital by actual doctors to a person who actually had the substance in her body. A had put HGH in her, yes; yet nobody knew about A. As far as she knew, if the HGH came out, she would be the HGH-person forever. It would define her, and her defence would sound as crazy and false as if she said the Yeti or Michael Jackson's ghost had poisoned her. She'd have to say goodbye to everything she ever cared about… maybe even literally, if she was actually dragged out of Rosewood by her parents. Fuck - fuck A and fuck the HGH. Fuck the hospitals, fuck Wren, fuck everything and everybody. She was so screwed, if it wasn't for the phone and Caleb.

She turned, uncomfortable with her leg.

A was trying to send messages about choosing between things that were important to her. Spencer, Alison. But Alison was dead. The pool, winning. The heart and the head. Spencer and swimming. Damn. That was it, wasn't it? God, she was going to go crazy if she kept thinking about it and living in constant fear of every meaning. She wanted so badly to shut her brain down and disappear under a hole… not literally, though; that was why she chased A tonight, because she didn't want to end up in a hole. But that was what Spencer didn't understand about this. That was the power she couldn't give to A. And what if A tried to use Spencer? It was easy for Spencer to say they'd prove the truth, but what if A sent the copies to Spencer and tried to make her do something in return? How far would Spencer go to keep her in the team, to keep her in Rosewood? She knew Spencer. Spencer had no limits. Spencer broke all the rules when it came to protection: she had no boundaries, no sense of care or safety or self, and Emily had to keep her under control, which was basically ironic right now because nothing was working, nothing was under control tonight anymore. There was no control. There was no pact.

But she wasn't losing her mind.

Was Spencer actually scared of her? And Hanna too?

Did Spencer really think she could go crazy and start fucking her life up?

Both of their lives?

She looked at Spencer's crooked profile - nose, pout and chin drawing a blurry line against the background wall.

Was she sleeping already?

Why was she so far away in bed?

Her breathing was regular but not deep. Maybe she was thinking too.

"Spence?"

She asked in a whisper, in case Spencer was actually asleep, and Spencer stirred a little at the sound.

"Yeah?"

Her voice came out sleepy. Maybe she was sleeping, after all.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Spencer stirred some more, turning to face her.

"Are you all right? Is the leg hurting?"

No, she wasn't all right. But it wasn't about the leg.

"I can't sleep", Emily explained, "cause I can't shut my brain down. And I think it's also because I don't want you to be scared of me."

Spencer sighed and rolled over to her side.

"I'm not scared of you, Em. Just of what's gonna happen, what you're gonna do."

Yes.

That was it.

But what was the difference now? Wasn't a person defined by her actions?

She couldn't think so clearly.

She rolled over too so she'd face Spencer directly, making sure her hand wasn't caught.

"Don't be scared of me", she begged, "please, just don't be scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you."

"Good, cause I can't sleep if you're scared of me or if you're feeling bad, especially if you're next to me."

She could literally feel Spencer's smile.

"So that means you could sleep in another room?"

Space.

No, she didn't want more space tonight.

"Hmmmm, trick question."

Spencer chuckled a little, and Emily chuckled in response, delighted with the sound because it felt like ages since they both smiled at something.

"Or I could go sleep in the spare bed", Spencer offered, but her tone was humorous, if still a little sarcastic, "maybe that'd do it for you."

"You'd still be too close for me to sleep."

"Then you'll have to stick around. I can't move to another city right now."

"I'll stick."

"But you need to sleep."

"You too."

"I was sleeping."

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

Spencer grew silent, considering her next words. But Emily could feel she was somehow amused.

"Actually", Spencer finally said, "you didn't wake me up. I was feeling bad."

Emily knew her breathing wasn't deep enough to be sleeping.

"But you're not scared?"

"That's a trick question too."

Emily smiled, because Spencer gave it the characteristic funny, ironic turn.

"See? I can't sleep. It's a circle."

"I'll buy plane tickets tomorrow and leave town."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Where's far enough so you can shut your brain down and sleep?"

"Trick question."

Spencer chuckled again at Emily's response, this time more vividly.

"They're always the best, you know", Spencer said in wonder, "trick questions."

"The ones you like."

"In exams, yes. They're a challenge."

"But you always get them right."

"Yeah, I do." Spencer was definitely amused now. "What about you?"

"I don't like exams."

But she liked people who liked exams. Well, not people. Just one person. Anyway, she was running out of amusing responses.

"That's bad", Spencer said, "cause they're a lot of fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They were close and it seemed safe.

Emily kissed her. On the lips. It wasn't deep, it was just a brief, sweet kiss destined to… comfort and amuse each other. Probably.

Spencer didn't seem surprised, though, for all of her previous resistance.

Resistance.

"Kissing's not gonna fix this."

Yes.

"I know."

Emily wasn't trying to fix anything with a kiss, although Spencer was always a big fan of kissing. Not like this, though. Apparently.

This problem was too serious to be fixed with a kiss.

It was just a comfort kiss.

It was just an amusing kiss.

It was just a kiss that would help them sleep next to each other.

They remained in the same position for a while, breathing each other without moving.

"You never wear that dress for me", Spencer finally said, lifting her eyes to Emily's.

What a radical change of topic.

It probably had to do with the kiss.

"I can if you want", Emily ventured, "I mean, not that one, that one's useless now."

"No, it's okay", Spencer took it back, "I guess we never go to clubs or stuff like that."

"We could, though." Did she want to go to clubs? Did she want to do stuff that involved dresses? "If you want."

"Did you have fun?"

Red flag.

Alert sign.

"Spence, it wasn't me. I was pretending to be someone else."

"Well, it did look a lot like you."

"That's because it was me pretending to be someone else."

"Someone without a girlfriend."

"Someone older and single, yes", Emily accepted, "but I kept thinking about you all the time, cause I do have a girlfriend. It was all fake."

"Yeah."

"This is the real me here."

Spencer hummed, agreeing but not completely.

"I'll wear the dress or whatever you want me to wear", Emily tried again, although that might be a dangerous idea to put on Spencer's head, "except one of Aria's dresses." Maybe joking would do it again? Or maybe seriousness would. "I was thinking about you."

Spencer moved her head away a little, as if she were weighing up Emily's words.

"No, don't get me wrong, that's nice to hear", Spencer said, and at least her tone was humorous again, although there was a hidden warning too, "but you should know I won't take your going around asking for people's numbers even if you keep thinking about me while you're doing it. It's not like being covered in blood's gonna save you the next time."

"There won't be a next time."

"I don't trust you on your word anymore."

Ouch.

"Come on."

"I like you in your jeans anyway."

Spencer didn't seem to want to go back to the nasty comment. She was stuck on clothes and people's numbers.

"I know you like me in miniskirts too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Everything.

"Nothing."

Everything.

Emily kissed her again to prove what that was supposed to mean. Their noses abruptly crashed when Emily's lips were searching for Spencer's mouth, and the next thing she knew, Spencer's tongue was inside her mouth, invading it with the full determination to lead the kiss.

Oh, she knew.

They both knew.

Resistance was so fake, so futile for both of them.

So they fought with their tongues and they fought in the kiss like they had been fighting with words… only this time it felt definitely better.

It was different too.

This was no comfort kiss. And it wasn't amusing either.

It was different because it was hard and rough. The tongue invasion and conquer was not common between them, especially at the beginning of a kiss, because they usually reserved the hard-tongue kissing for the last stages of making out or sex, and it wasn't even like this. Not since Emily had stated the norms for good kissing during that night… the night she kissed Spencer. The norms for good kissing implied there shouldn't be a full tongue invasion. They weren't even norms, anyway. Spencer had tried to follow them, though. But Emily knew nothing about good kissing then, and now she knew everything, everything there was to know. Everything she knew about tongues.

Full-tongue kissing was leaving her breathless.

She sucked on Spencer's thin upper lip, demonstrating she could still run the show, but no, it didn't work to slow the kiss down, and full-blown force was applied by Spencer's tongue against her own.

She tried another strategy, moving away a little, which actually helped to recover her breath.

Spencer stared, blurry, shiny eyes in the dark.

No.

Yes.

The kiss exploded again like a thousand fires, resistance giving in. Tongues, tongues running like horses in the sky.

Suddenly the pain.

Emily cried out, a mixture of a soundless gasp and a primitive call.

"What the...!"

She tasted the rust of blood.

Spencer had bitten her lip hard.

"Sorry", Spencer apologized after tasting the blood, "sorry, sorry. This is so not what you need tonight."

She started to move away in what seemed to be a movement to get out of their bed, so Emily grabbed her wrist with the same force both of them were applying in making out.

"Where are you going?"

"To get you some tissue."

"No."

She pulled her back and kissed her again, using the advantage to take Spencer by surprise and basically swallow her in her mouth.

It was Spencer's turn to gasp.

But the kiss soon slowed down as Spencer retreated from the invasion and ran her lips softly along Emily's lips, licking the rests of blood with the tip of her tongue. It was just a small bite, but Spencer was careful now.

"Does this mean you're not gonna angry-kiss me anymore?"

Emily asked the question when they both stopped to breathe, and Spencer used her thumb to trace the damage: the lip seemed to be fine.

"Sex is not gonna fix this."

Sex?

Who was talking about sex?

They were going to have sex?

Okay.

Yes, they were.

Although Spencer's words had been a clear invitation to continue with the angry-war make-out session and to stop it at the same time, because it wasn't going to fix this, whatever it was (and they knew what it was, but it wasn't so clear right now), Spencer didn't oppose any resistance when Emily restarted the kiss, energized by the idea of actually having some kind of permission to have sex.

Even if it was angry sex.

However, slow kissing took over, the kind they were already used to having, and it was nowhere near angry, bloody or rough. Getting rid of the red top and of the bra Emily had forgotten to take off before getting into bed, Spencer's fingers began with their exploration, continuously chasing after Emily's bruises, mapping out the territory she'd already searched some hours ago when she cleaned and dressed her wounds in the bathroom.

Efficiency in care, efficiency in sex.

"Do they hurt?"

How many times was she going to ask?

Emily answered lifting herself up to catch her lips, but Spencer pulled away and moved, repositioning her body in a way she wouldn't touch the damaged thigh.

She seemed deep in thought about the body in sight.

"We have to be really careful and keep this simple", Spencer concluded, "plus we're tired so it should be quick."

Doctor Spencer.

In a second she had diagnosed the sex they should have tonight: careful, simple and quick, all of this after angry-kissing until she'd made her lip bleed.

"Are you setting new rules for sex?", Emily joked, mockery in her tone.

Emily couldn't see Spencer's eyes very well but she was pretty sure Spencer was killing her with them right now.

"Since you look like The Mummy, yes, these are new rules. Unless you don't wanna have sex at all."

God, no.

She propped herself up on her good hand and embraced Spencer.

"I want to."

Now it was Spencer's turn to sound mocking. "You do?"

"Yeah."

"I had a feeling you did."

She was going to kill her like this.

Fire, warmth, fire.

Angry kiss, nursing sex.

Slow, fast, smooth, hard.

Fast.

After the diagnosis had been established, fingers began to trace another curious, controlled examination of her body, making Emily respond in internal shivers. Then the turn of the mouth came. Spencer sucked on Emily's neck and down her clavicule, slowly drawing circles and lines until she reached her breasts, where her tongue warmed up her nipples after the first touch had hardened them, making them react in tight, fiery pride. The sweet, delicate tease of Spencer's tongue dominated them, convinced them of the uselessness of their reaction until they were smooth again, fingers playing to both help and hinder the work of her mouth. Oh, this was so much like Spencer it gave Emily a light head. It made her back arch like Spencer was playing a harp on her body. It made her body clench and soften and melt as her own fingers ran through Spencer's messy waves of hair. Spencer used to be so much more aggressive with her breasts, fingers and mouth squeezing and sucking fiercely but tentatively on them, fighting to cover the flesh and to posses it, and Emily wanted her to do that again, to use her teeth on her again like that, but her body was also heating up to this controlled, peaceful touch, to this careful, playful warmth. With a white flag between her teeth, Spencer was running her lips all along her damaged skin, brushing and licking around Emily's bruises and cuts, making sure it was all right, it was smooth, it was alive; making sure she'd do no harm.

It was alive.

Emily could feel it between her legs and she was starting to go a little crazy about it.

Now, if only she could also undress Spencer.

Lifting Spencer's head up with both of her hands, she did what she had to do and left her naked.

They kissed again.

Slow.

Tongues were playing another game tonight, though. They were sort of trying to chase each other and catch and squeeze and run, like hide and seek and touch and steal, cops and robbers, drop the handkerchief, old games getting radically new, their lips sore and swollen with the excessive friction and the salivating war taking place in too many spots at once, reaching too deep in each other's throats before running far away and fast.

Fast.

Like only one of them would win.

Tongues like horses, soldiers riding horses in an open field in the sky.

Emily could feel the warmth building up in Spencer's panties as Spencer firmly grinded against her good thigh, rubbing the soft cotton against it while their tongues played their newly founded game of ruthless persecution, the game of Angry Kiss and Nursing Sex, so Emily lifted her thigh a little, wickedly increasing the pressure, evilly raising the stakes, gaining the trophy she was after when Spencer gasped at the harder, suddenly rawer touch. Yes, Emily was feeling it through the freaking cotton fabric, throbbing, pulsating against her bare skin like a fever cord that was hardly disguised behind a transparent veil. And who was playing the harp now, and on whose body, she didn't know, but it felt so good and so right.

And it was going to be quick.

And it was going to be simple.

But so seriously hot.

She moved a little to search for her own contact, dying to feel the touch on her shorts because Spencer was trying so hard to be medical that, sexually speaking, she was keeping her in agony right now. Both trying to attract Spencer's knee and to rub against it, a flinching pain surged through her body and mixed with every other aching sensation. It was her bad thigh.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… my leg."

No, no, no.

The words sent Spencer away, so Emily quickly held her by the waist, pulling her body down and forcing her to stay.

No.

Yes.

They kissed as hard and heavy as they could without biting each other.

However, her leg was starting to really protest, so Emily did what she usually did best. Using her arm to envelop Spencer and to push her up, she somehow managed to flip her over down on the bed.

Killer moves, always so easy even now that she was a crippled soldier.

"What are you doing?"

Spencer had landed sort of face down and seemed pissed with the abrupt change.

"It's just easier this way."

"You mean easier for you", Spencer protested, and this might mean it was going to be angry sex after all. "Why do you have to fight me even in bed?"

Ouch.

"I'm not fighting you", Emily explained, "it's just better for my leg, but we can go back to…"

She was cut off by Spencer's fast pull on her arm, which sent her down too.

Fallen Soldier On Her Face.

"How do you like that?"

Vengeance.

"Can we not fight?", Emily requested after landing between the pillow and Spencer's cascade of hair. "We're having sex, we're not fighting."

Spencer brushed the hair away from her face and then her caring fingers did the same thing with Emily's dark curtain of hair, using extreme caution not to touch the cut on her forehead.

"You're fighting me."

Sure.

"Yeah, like I was the one who almost had a complete breakfast on your lip."

Spencer had to suck that one up.

"That was before we established the rules. The ones you're breaking now."

Uh, oh.

"I'm not breaking them, I'm following them so I don't hurt my leg", Emily argued her point. "Careful, simple and quick."

Nursing Sex.

"You really like breaking the rules, don't you?"

No!

"Are we really getting into that?"

Spencer seemed to debate over this. But a verbal discussion wouldn't only kill the sex, it would lead to another fight they'd agreed on avoiding tonight.

And now the sex was on.

"Just do it already", Spencer finally said, because she was crazy dying to go on anyway, "but be careful with your leg."

"Do what?"

Spencer widened her eyes in mocking shock.

"Whatever you're doing, Emily."

Okay.

Green light.

However, Emily wasn't sure she was doing anything besides changing the position and easing the pressure on her damaged leg. But it was fine, because a crippled soldier could stand up and keep fighting, especially now that she was freer with her own movements, especially now that she had Spencer's long body under hers. Under hers: Spencer was lying on her stomach, so under her she had Spencer's tensed back, the amazing, sudden curve on her waist giving way to her ass, still covered by the white cotton material of the underwear. She had a nice ass. She had a nice everything. She was so bony and sort of linear and then she had all these unexpected curves that gave Emily a feeling of lustful, wicked surprise. And Emily wasn't so used to seeing her in this position. Damn. Maybe she did like to break the rules. No, but she didn't. She did like… sex. And she liked her killer moves, because she never knew she had them before she had sex with Spencer. Obviously. She had never had sex before Spencer. But more than her killer moves she liked the effect her killer moves had on Spencer. Maybe that was all she liked. But she wasn't a rule-breaker. And she wasn't fighting Spencer, at least not more than Spencer was fighting her. Her bitten lip was still a proof of that, stingy and swollen with every kiss that roughed their mouths and their tongues up to exhaustion.

She felt Spencer's heat under her.

Fuck.

Yeah, that.

Blushing incredibly as she embraced Spencer's body with her own, she began to angry-kiss her to show her who had started that war. Spencer kissed back fiercely, almost as if she was expecting exactly it, tongues crashing like furious doors opening and then slamming shut against each other, until Emily decided to do whatever she was going to do. Ass and back. Pressing her hips against Spencer's ass, Spencer's body against the mattress, she hoped to elicit a loud, clear response, and she got it in the form of a broken, labored moan.

Well, well, well.

Look at that.

She knew the sound by heart and body by now so she repeated the move, this time holding Spencer's hips tightly as her own hips thrust harder against Spencer's ass, pushing her against the silky sheets and the solid mattress.

Another set of groans followed, Spencer's raging music combining with her own.

"Yeah."

If this was Angry-Nursing Sex, it was feeling really good.

"Yeah?"

Spencer sounded surprised when she spoke, mainly because it wasn't often that Emily said anything of the sort during sex.

"Yeah", Emily confirmed, "you like it."

Green lights, open doors.

She didn't give Spencer time to argue as she attacked the smoothly toned skin of her back, grazing the tendons with her teeth after pressing them with her tongue while her body kept rocking hard against Spencer's skinny body, trapped against the mattress and Emily's feverish touch. The hard rhythm provided also contact for Emily and increased her arousal by the second so, once again, she decided to do whatever she was going to evilly, wickedly do. Green light. Open door. Sneaking her good hand down Spencer's sweaty stomach, holding her down, she felt Spencer pushing up, arching up to allow the contact for Emily's fingers to reach her panties, where things would irremediably turn hotter, harder, faster.

Fast.

Emily squeezed the wet cotton, her fingers feeling the shiver underneath, her body sensing the impending tremor.

Spencer panted and grunted, sex sounds muffled against the sheets.

"Shit."

The choked curse meant Spencer was close.

Yes.

Angry Sex: you are doing your job well.

Spencer twisted, gasping for air, obviously starting to lose it and trying to struggle against it, but then her hand travelled down her own stomach in time to grab Emily's hand and pull it out, closing the door, flashing a red light.

"No."

What?

But it had been a definite, loud yes! Emily was so sure she almost pouted.

Was this some kind of punishment for supposedly breaking the rules?

"Why?", Emily asked in confusion, "is it…"

"Just… don't use your hand."

It was a clear, loud order, and Emily felt blocked for a long, long moment when all her killer confidence seemed to fall down like the walls of an ancient city under siege and attack. An abyss opened before her and she didn't know where to put her foot. Or her hand.

"It's okay", Spencer assured, throaty and breathless and sweaty and pink, and everything about her screamed sex and orgasm and all of what was going to happen a second ago, "Em, it's okay."

It was?

Emily started to recover a sense of confidence.

"What do you want me to do?"

"You think you can be quick?"

Fast.

But everything was going fast and Emily didn't completely understand.

The question had sounded like a challenge, however, and maybe this was the way Spencer had of fighting the war besides the angry-kissing and the lip-biting. A conqueror, a warrior, she would never give up. So she turned backwards to reach Emily's soaking shorts with her hands, fingers tasting the hidden wetness to show Emily what she meant by quick, to feel how close Emily was, to demonstrate there was a game to play also for her, that she could also get it right. Her fingers got it right.

A shock of electricity shook Emily's legs and curled up her toes.

Fuck.

Yes, she was so close too.

But she stopped Spencer's hand before it sneaked inside the shorts.

"Hey", Emily protested, "if my hand's not allowed, yours isn't either."

A twitch was starting to break Spencer's lips into a smile.

"I just wanna know. You're not always that quick."

Really?

That was highly offensive. Or not. Emily wasn't so sure right now.

"I…"

Spencer just stared at her, waiting for an answer and trying to conceal the smile that was still forming.

"It's just a question, Em. It's not a final exam."

Ha.

Trick question.

Emily was trying to get out of her block and find her voice.

"Yes."

Of course she could be quick.

"Yes you can reach an orgasm quickly? Or yes it's a final exam?"

"You trying to be funny now?", Emily asked, recovering her voice thanks to the annoyance she felt. "In the middle of everything?"

"I'm basically trying to find out what you mean by yes."

"Cause it's you who's very quickly reaching an orgasm", Emily retaliated, "although you didn't want to be in this position."

Spencer gave her what could be considered a cross-eyed look, resentful but so fucking sexy.

"I'm always quick. There's no real merit there."

Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Ouch.

And again: ouch.

Emily was starting to highly dislike Angry Sex.

"So that's a yes?"

"Yes."

The sexiest, most crooked smile in the world finally broke into Spencer's lips as she moved her hand up and pulled Emily down for another kiss. She was getting her way, whatever it was. She always got her way. She always won. Oh, god, yes, she always, always won, and Emily couldn't really hide she actually loved that in a way that… well, it wasn't only that she loved it, she also wanted to have sex with it because it was so fucking sexy. But she would hide it now, because angry sex was a competition and they were both playing it. She was also a winner, she was also a killer and, most importantly, Spencer was her territory and she knew it pretty well. Angry sex was a competition and she was going to get so damn good at it.

Angry sex was an angry kiss.

And so they kissed like they were going to die in a minute and that was the last thing they would do, like the kiss would save the world or completely smash it into pieces after burning it down and blowing it up in smoke. They kissed like their tongues were fighting Third World War and Spencer was Mars and Venus and missiles and H-bombs and special super-speedy planes were forbidden along with Emily's hand. They kissed like they only had mouths but the rest of their bodies were also fighting the war in the rearguard, no blood and no bites though, and they kissed so hard and so heavy that Emily couldn't even feel her pulsating throbs as she rode Spencer's leg now, not on top anymore but sort of lying on the side, so hard and so heavy that she couldn't even sense Spencer's pants and rocks against her too or Spencer's hand firmly grabbing, pushing her ass now, back in the offensive, burning down the field, and Emily thought she was really going to get off just because they were kissing like that, because that was what Spencer wanted, because she wanted what Spencer wanted and whatever Spencer wanted would always be fine.

A kiss like that, a kiss of war.

It was burning so fast.

She didn't even know a kiss could make you feel sex like this.

Seeking her own kind of vengeance, because Spencer was her merit, Emily savagely sucked on Spencer's tongue, kill or die, die and kill. Gaining a retreat, sinking deep into her throat, breaking every kissing norm she ever stated back in the day, she soundly moaned inside Spencer's mouth because she was dying, running out of air, no light, no oxygen left, and they both grunted loudly, erratically moving all along their bloodied sky, last knife stuck, last bullet shot.

They were dying, soldiers under fire.

Fire.

Fire everywhere.

The world was on fire now.

It was all too much, it was all too fast and they both came almost at the same time, their bodies trembling against each other in violent shocks that slowly gave in into tiny electrical shivers which finally disappeared into complete, utter physical exhaustion.

They searched for a new position once it was over, fitting one body into the other in a soft, tired embrace.

"Holy fucking crap."

Spencer's typical exclamation of awe sounded in the now silent room and Emily smiled at her, feeling unable to utter another sound in her whole life.

"Did you actually come first?", Spencer asked, her throaty, grave voice hardly hiding her excitement to know the answer.

"I'm not sure."

Well, Emily still had a voice, even if it sounded really tiny and weak now.

"I think you did. That's good for a change."

Emily shot a daring look. "I can be quick."

Spencer offered a wide grin.

"I didn't know you were so easy to piss off during sex."

"Easy, the magic word", Emily contributed, knowing why Spencer was feeling so excited about the whole thing. "Why didn't you want my hand?"

Spencer seemed suddenly pensive, like she would prefer to keep it a secret.

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Seriously? Why do I wanna know?"

Because she was afraid her hand would never be a killer hand again? Because her hand had been suddenly, surprisingly rejected like it was a bad, evil hand, right after being allowed and almost driven to the point of no return?

Spencer grinned again, clearly amused with Emily's reaction.

The things sex did to people's moods.

"I wanted us to come together", Spencer explained, looking down to expose herself a little less on the matter of why she'd rejected The Hand, "and if you used your hand we both know what was gonna happen. But I like it when we come together… you know, at the same time. And when we're looking at each other." She paused, suddenly serious. "And I needed it."

Thankful there wasn't a problem with her hand, Emily considered Spencer's last words. They were probably going to come together anyway, hand or no hand. But Spencerneeded to check, because she didn't know that. And they weren't looking at each other, basically because Emily was looking at her back... and at her still covered ass.

There was something else too.

Spencer needed that kind of connection tonight.

So it wasn't only about Angry Sex. Or it was… but it wasn't only about being angry.

Emily smiled sweetly, because she also needed the connection. She was suddenly glad her hand had been prohibited from sex.

"I like it too."

"We're still in our underwear."

"I know. It's pretty crazy, right?"

Spencer nodded, resting her head on Emily's shoulder. But then she sneaked her arm under Emily's back, embracing her body from beneath and pulling her closer so they could still lie breath to breath while they regained the tranquillity to finally fall asleep. It was so late and tomorrow was going to be such a hard day… or today.

They both closed their eyes.

Emily's body was aching more than before, her leg protesting in intense, intermittent cries now. Her change of position hadn't really been a great idea after all. But she was finally dozing off, her brain sort of fading out into an easier blackness.

However, Spencer stirred a little and kissed Emily's shoulder, showing she was still awake, and Emily opened her eyes.

She reciprocated the kiss, her lips brushing Spencer's chin.

"You can't sleep now?"

Spencer hummed in response, her eyes still closed. She wasn't being very expressive.

What was she thinking?

Was she still feeling bad?

"I like sex", Spencer finally said, her tone both lazy and reflective.

Okay.

That was good news.

"Big news", Emily joked. "Me too."

Spencer's eyes opened, heavy-lidded but bright, and she smiled crookedly.

"I think I got the idea."

"You did?"

"Easy."

Emily giggled. Was Spencer still thinking about that? It'd been an interesting experience. Angry Kiss. Hard-Bitten-Lip, which she'd found strangely arousing and new. Nursing Sex. Broken Rules. Forbidden Hand, which had shocked her at first. Tongue-Murdering Wars.

The Connection.

Shit.

Fuck.

Holy fucking crap.

"You think I should be more talkative in bed?"

Emily blurted out the question, thinking maybe there were things she could improve.

"I… don't know. Do you wanna be?"

"I don't know."

Maybe.

"I think you're fine."

Some seconds passed until Emily's question really triggered Spencer's curiosity.

"Unless you wanna say something." Spencer paused to make her words sound both dramatic and funny. "Like that moment you had of intense poetry: yeah."

She mimicked a monotone, robotic voice.

"I'm pretty sure I don't sound like that."

"You do."

"Shut up."

Spencer laughed, eliciting the same response in Emily. It'd been hours, maybe even days since they'd laughed that kind of open, natural laugh and hearing it again made them happy.

"Okay, so you don't sound like that", Spencer admitted, still a huge grin on her face. But then she went back to her mocking enquiry. She was dying to know now. "So is there anything you wanna say? Something you're too shy to tell me?"

Emily gave it some thought. A lot of things came to her mind when she was having sex: she just didn't say most of them, but that probably happened to Spencer too, right?

"What if it kills the mood? Or if you don't like it."

"That's not gonna happen."

The certainty in Spencer's voice surprised Emily a little, even if she found it flattering.

"Why're you so sure? You haven't heard it yet."

"So there's an it to hear."

If there was an it to hear, Spencer wanted to hear it.

"I guess I could say more things."

"You like it", Spencer mimicked Emily's words again, the same robotic, false monotone. "You mean something like that? Yeah, baby, tell me you like it, c'mon, babe, give it to me now."

Now she didn't sound like a robot. She was pretending to sound really naughty, but failing miserably because she couldn't sound serious or horny enough. In fact, she was hardly containing her laughter.

Emily frowned.

"Or is it something dirty?"

Spencer was having way too much fun with this.

"Isn't that dirty enough?"

"It could be dirtier, you know."

"Dirty like what?"

"Are you trying to get me to say it?", Spencer suspiciously asked. "Cause it's not gonna happen."

Emily smiled widely now.

"Right, you already say enough with your shits and your fucks", Emily hit back, "I'm waiting to hear the next one."

"That's as much as you're ever gonna hear."

"Really? No god or please or Emily, yes, oh, yes?"

Spencer blushed, and even Emily could feel the sudden heat in her face even though they were in the dark.

"No", Spencer answered, shying away because she did suppress certain comments that she could hear in her head sometimes. But then she decided to give something away. "Well, maybe fuck and Emily, in different orders and with different intonations."

"I think I already heard that."

"And you liked it, didn't you?", Spencer asked, giving it the proper double, naughty turn, "I am waiting to hear the next one you have."

"It might gross you out", Emily teased, "baby."

"Not the baby thing", Spencer teased back, "please."

"I'm taking notes so I don't totally screw it."

"No pun intended."

"Pun intended."

"In that case, you can screw it as much as you want."

Interesting. But complicated.

Emily was getting a little lost in the conversation.

"Really? As much as I want?"

"Test me."

Oh, goodness.

The stakes were high.

"I will." Emily raised the stakes a little more. "But don't complain if you don't like it when you're asking for it."

"Is that a new one?"

Emily didn't understand.

"What?"

"You're asking for it", Spencer repeated with a sultry tone. "Is that the next one I'm gonna hear?"

"I... No." Emily felt suddenly shy. But then she felt bold again. Just like that. "Why, do you wanna hear that?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On what you think I'm asking for", Spencer laughed, knowing she was giving Emily a headache now. "Do you wannagive it to me now?"

Emily slapped Spencer's shoulder. "Stop it."

"Ouch", Spencer feigned pain. "I thought you wanted to know. And stop hitting me cause you know I can't respond tonight."

"You have other ways."

Lip-Biting.

Tongue-Wars.

Trick questions and forbidden hands.

Spencer propped on her elbows to have a more distinct vision of Emily's face in the dark.

"What do you wanna know?"

"I wannaknow", Emily stood her ground, "what exactly you're asking for because, you know, whatever I say... when I say it there's no return."

"Find out for yourself."

"You're not helping."

"Why should I help?", Spencer dared, her eyes brightening up so much in the dark. "I thought this started as a conversation about you being more talkative in bed."

She did have a point.

"Yeah", Emily accepted, "but that's why I need to know."

Spencer seemed to consider her next answer, as if to continue the heavy teasing or to cool it a bit.

"It won't kill the mood, that's pretty sure to say."

Yes!

Confession.

Although Emily wasn't exactly sure about what part of the tease they'd been debating wouldn't kill the mood. But whatever.

"Which one exactly?", she tried. "The asking for it or the give it to me now? Or is it another one you wanna hear?"

"What else do you have in mind?"

"I have a lot in mind", Emily cryptically suggested, because the stakes were high, "but you'll have to offer something too... if you wanna hear it."

Spencer gave her a weird look.

"You're mean."

"And it turns you on?"

"Yes."

Wow.

Okay.

The stakes were high.

And now Emily got a dry throat. But she felt safe to tease further.

"Seriously? I'll try to murder your lip next time."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Wasn't it?"

Instinctively, Spencer touched Emily's lip with her thumb again.

"I wanted to kill you."

"I think my lip pretty much understood your point."

"I'm sorry", Spencer apologized once more, "it won't happen again."

It won't?

"It should happen again", Emily whispered, admitting she'd found it sexy, "as long as you don't send me to the hospital."

Although it'd be funny to explain it to Wren... No, no. Still-No-Wren.

Spencer gave her a weirder look now, which Emily couldn't totally decipher. It was a mixture of annoyed and aroused, but at the same time she seemed to be completely surprised about the whole thing.

"If you want me to do it again, I'll guess you'll have to try not to get yourself murdered", Spencer sarcastically replied, "and picked up in a club by another girl, or the other way around, whatever you did, and I don't really wanna know, and all of that. You know, quid pro quo."

But it was weird because those had been exactly the reasons why she'd gotten so violent with the lip.

"I have no clue what you just said", Emily half-joked, because it was better not to go into the other topic. "Your lip-murdering was kinda intense and hot."

"It was? I'll do it again."

Opening her mouth like a sexy wolf, her white teeth lined up, ready to get bloody, Spencer moved in slow motion to bite Emily's lips again, but Emily pulled away, laughing.

"Not now."

Spencer laughed too, knowing she wasn't going to get bloody ever again. Well, maybe. If Emily liked it, she might have to. Actually, she'd liked it too, at least until she'd realized she'd made her bleed. So maybe she'd just have to find the way to get violent without causing real damage.

Tricky.

But she liked trick questions.

Her expression turned reflective.

"You know, quid pro quo. You were also intense and hot."

"English, Spencer", Emily teased. "And I don't know what you mean."

"You perfectly know what I mean."

"I don't."

"Because you're dumb, right? So I should get a smarter girlfriend or a boyfriend."

Uh, oh.

"Because I wanna hear you say it", Emily managed to make another detour around the dangerous topic, "in English."

"Are you Hanna now? Did I miss something?"

"I'd like to think you can still tell the difference", Emily teased, "or you'll have to get glasses again."

Spencer gaped, because she was so sure Emily understood what she meant. But then she shot a challenging look.

She'd give her what she was after.

Why not?

"Okay, I like it", Spencer blurted out, also in a whisper. "There you go. Easy, simple English. Hanna's English. I. Liked. It."

A smirk formed in Emily's lips.

"You like what?"

"Really?"

"What? Is it so mean that I wanna know?"

"It is."

"But it turns you on."

Spencer seemed at a loss of violent actions now that she couldn't punch or toss Emily around, so she used her hand to cover Emily's mouth.

"You're going to shut up now, Em. But you're gonna listen too."

Emily made a primitive sound, trying to speak through Spencer's hand.

"I like everything you do or say in bed, including everything you did and said tonight." Spencer paused, because she was giving this away in return for whatever she would ever hear or experience in the future. "I fucking liked it. You hear?"

Emily mumbled something unintelligible.

"I. Fucking. Liked. It.", Spencer repeated, pronouncing every word. "Get it?"

Yes!

Yes, yes, yes.

Emily got it perfectly, and her heart danced an internal happy dance. The words sounded sultry, husky, throaty enough, and Emily's brain felt like it could start having sex again. Only her brain, because her body was already too tired and sore.

Spencer's hand retreated and Emily was able to speak again, her smirk already turning into a wide smile.

"You did, right? I knew it."

Now they were both whispering, like people could hear them talk. But they couldn't. There was no one here. No one but them.

"I guess that's why you felt the need to say it. Yeah."

"I guess."

"And you also wanted to hear a confirmation, right?"

"I like it."

Man.

This tease.

It was impossible to keep living like this.

Spencer narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to read something in her.

"So this is about me being more talkative?"

"No, you're loud enough."

Spencer was barely holding herself again, trying to come up with some kind of violent but harmless reaction.

"You... are gonna die."

"Please."

The pillow was used against Emily's face, but it was such a soft, careful attempt at death by asphyxiation that it only caused Emily's laughter to go wild when she pushed her back against Spencer's face. It took a while to recover and, once again, she had to rub her eyes to wipe a couple of laughing tears away.

What a night.

"I'm not loud", Spencer complained with a really low voice, throwing the pillow around, but her eyes were still light-flashing the room, "and nobody knows who you truly are, Fields."

Emily kissed her nose.

"Isn't that good?"

Spencer turned reflective again, staring in that special way of hers.

"Yeah", she admitted, "you're always... You could start jumping like a monkey and it'd still turn me on."

Yes!

(No to the monkey, though. Wrong image.)

"A monkey? You're sick."

"It doesn't matter if you're using a pen to write in your Calculus book", Spencer continued giving herself away, "when you should use a pencil to do it, by the way, because I like it. So, yeah, I'm sick."

Yes!

So many of them!

(And she used pens because pencils made her nervous. Did that turn her on too? For real? Because it did sound a little creepy.)

Emily blinked, feeling the impact of all the words sink into her. The funny thing was that, even after truly hearing it, after taking it in and letting it find a pleasurable place inside her, she wanted even more than that; she wanted to keep hearing things, she wanted to keep screaming yes every time. She wanted more than she could ever have. She had more than she thought she'd ever have. And she was so sure Spencer had liked it that it wasn't as if she even needed confirmation. But she did need it, in a way. She liked the sound of the words in her ears, the taste in her mouth: the rust of blood mixing with sweat and saliva. She liked watching Spencer's lips move to utter the words. Now, if only Spencer would say the words also while they were having sex...

Yes, she had a wicked, wicked heart.

She was mean.

And she could never use a pen again without having to turn around to check whatever Spencer was doing.

Damn.

"It's that bad", Emily laughed, lost in her wicked thoughts of yes, "isn't it?"

Spencer kissed her shoulder sweetly as the only response, the strangest look in her eyes, like she couldn't give anything else away. But her eyes were still giving it. Her eyes were still saying it.

It was that bad.

Fire.

Fire everywhere.

Fire all the time, with every little thing.

It was not a game or a tease or a sexy war. It was real.

And, for the first time ever since they started dating, for the first time ever since they started having sex, for the first time tonight, after everything that had happened, after everything she'd felt every time Spencer was bitter and refused to look at her or examined her, every time they screamed or fell silent, every time they teased around the seemingly harmless words that were keeping them away from The Problem, Emily felt scared… scared of everything, scared of every word they'd ever said.

It had to be good.

Maybe they shouldn't have had sex. Had she used sex just to claim back what was hers, to force it to stay because it was still there?

The Connection.

"Spencer, it can't be bad. It has to be good."

She spoke so solemnly as if she was swearing an oath, and Spencer shot a confused look now, understanding the tease was over and had transformed into some other sort of thing.

"It is good."

"No, not sex", Emily explained, a growing sinking feeling in her stomach, "all of us."

Realizing the abrupt change of mood, Spencer cupped Emily's face in her hands, searching for answers.

There were no answers.

They were both so tired, so sensitive to every little thing, to every little word and phrase.

They really needed to sleep.

"It's just a phrase, Em."

"I don't care."

"We're good", Spencer affirmed, because she believed it as much as she could believe in anything. Because it was the only thing she truly believed in. And she was giving everything, everything away. "We're too good. And it's not... Yes, it's been bad tonight and we do have problems… but they're mainly caused by that fucking animal, and…"

"I love you."

It was the second time Emily said the words tonight.

"I know."

They stared at each other, trying to run after emotions that were too hard to define and express in words, at least tonight. It was so late and dark.

"We have to get some sleep", Spencer warned, knowing the talk would lead nowhere now, "we really do."

"The phone", Emily acknowledged, "tomorrow."

They were so tired they couldn't even articulate proper sentences anymore.

"Today", Spencer corrected.

Emily accommodated, hiding her face in the crook of Spencer's neck, then nuzzling her armpit because she liked the smell of sweaty sex in her. She liked every smell and every taste in her. She liked every form, every tone of voice. It was that bad for her too. It was that bad or that good. But they had to sleep. They both needed to rest. It was okay. They'd sort everything out… tomorrow… or today.

School, Caleb, Hanna, The Phone.

The Pool.

Them.

Us.

Fire.

Sex.

Sex didn't solve problems.

Shut down, brain. Sex was healing (wasn't that a song?). Maybe not truly healing, but it wasn't as if they weren't going to talk anymore. They were going to sleep and they were going to talk and they were going to be fine. They were going to catch A. And they weren't going to have sex again until their problems were solved, so she wouldn't feel like she was using it to hide from them.

Sex, you know: you did good, but it's over until the next time.

She enveloped Spencer's body with her bad leg, wanting to feel her warmth without any kind of second intention.

Spencer stole a look at the alarm clock: 3.37.

They were going to die.

Slowly, as the minutes passed, Spencer felt Emily's muscles relaxing, falling off into the peaceful sleep Emily especially needed to recover her strength. It took a while until Emily rolled over on her back, unconsciously searching for the less painful position, but she dragged Spencer's arm and leg behind, wanting to be spooned now. And Spencer, the big spoon, embraced Emily, gently covering her chest with her arm as she struggled to catch her own sleep. More minutes passed as she lay in bed, thinking about how she should fall asleep too. But she didn't. She just lay there, wondering about the best way to protect the body that was lying down next to hers. The body she loved. The body that had scared the shit out of her tonight, that had lied and later apologized about it, that kept fighting her in every way, in every damn field. The body whose touch drove her crazy, the body she couldn't resist. She had tried (a little) but she'd known, even before Emily knew about it, she'd known they were going to have sex, because she just wouldn't resist it. She spent hours of every day thinking about it. She felt it every time she looked at her.

And she looked at her now, full lips, delicate, thick eyebrows, peaceful lids covering her eyes. There was no one ever so beautiful to put a foot in this world. It was so heartbreaking and so touching. It was inside of her too, in her heart.

This was the body she loved.

The body that had to keep swimming, whatever the cost. The body that was hers to care for.

---

A/N 2: The song mentioned is "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye.

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AN 3: THANKS to all of you readers and reviewers! I'll try to be concise because this chapter's already too long.

sieamberc: As usual, you're so right. They've discussed Ali but they've both been cautious about it... It's scary to realize how far one would go for the other one; it's also scary, but too intriguing, to realize changes in the one you love... right?

TwoFive25: THANK YOU! I hope you're already catching up; if not, you'll see this when you get to this chapter. I especially appreciated your long paragraph comment! It was touching and it made me laugh! So... anyway :)))

Mona: My French should be better! But I had to use Google Translator Et merci beaucoup for everything you analyzed! It is indeed a complex relationship, isn't it? Plus they're both changing and subjected to pretty extreme circumstances... But what you said about them interested me. I wish I could write a lot more. I'm glad you see how determined Emily is about this relationship... cause I think she learned from the best (Spencer).

anon: This one was brighter... yeah? But it's gonna turn angsty again... :(

LaughLoveLiveXx: Oh, what you said about Spencer and structure! It was so good! I loved it. And, yes, the point is sort of everything backfires... for both of them. But they're survivors. They will make it, right? You know too, you also write them like that!

xkxtxfx: It was supposed to be lighthearted at the beginning and intense at the end. I like to try imitate the show in that sense! Hanna's best definition is the one Emily said to Lucas in the show: she's a fiercely loyal friend. She's probably even more loyal than Spencer or Emily. I loooved the magnet metaphor! They're very connected, but when they lose it... whatever it is... it's like they both bang their heads against a wall. Loved your review! Thank you for it!

Sora Yogami Yeeeahhh, Spencer's suddenly TERRIFIED Emily might go that far... I think this chapter shows a little more of that... Caleb likes Emily! He just thinks she's a little too guarded sometimes... I mean, I don't think there's a person out there who wouldn't like Emily! It's Emily Fields!

dmpanda5 This is another chapter of them talking in circles (fighting) and trying to find another form of communication... And you nailed it: teenage angst plus evil world=A. The main reason why they can't totally clear everything up is because, really, I think they're both dealing with too much stuff.

IxHeartxGlee: They're working, they're still working... but the bad spot suddenly changed. Now it's not only about "what Emily did", it's also "what Emily might do". And, yes, I did want to give Aria a little space. I feel like she's always there but sort of in the shadows. But then she always shows up with a clear head when they all need her to. She'll show up more...

rakel16 ¡Hola! Muchas gracias por el comentario. Actualizaré poco a poco, pero este capítulo es muy largo, o sea que da munición para unas dos semanas :D

AnGeLuZ: Don't worry, review whenever and whatever you want! But thanks so much for doing it. It is a LOOOOONG story. I write such long things... and then I write this chapter, which is even LOOOOOONGER. I just... I have to write with a lot of thought-detail, I don't like cutting scenes, etc. I love other styles of writing! I wish I could be more concise. But I'm not. This is how it comes out for me. But I'm glad as hell you like it, so take your time and please enjoy!