A/N: So this one's slightly longer, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in drama or angst or whatever. If I didn't say befre, please, PLEASE review, it makes me update faster.

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We've been talking for a while now. And it's nice that we're back. Because I've missed us, I've missed you. But when I see you glance at the clock for the fifth time, then at your bed, then at me, I know you're about spent. It is late after all. 1:00 is still late, right?

I sit up and pretend to stretch until I hear my muscles pop. You sit up too, from this mess of blankets and pillows we've made on the floor beside your bed to retain some sense of privacy since your mom has again left the door open. I really don't want to sleep on the couch. And I look at you like, I really don't wanna sleep on the couch. But your eyes are guilty and I don't want to make you feel worse.

"Think we should call it a night?"

"Yeah, I'm getting pretty tired," and as if to prove it, you yawn, like I wouldn't have believed you. I stand and you follow.

"Then I guess I'll just…." and I make some gesture to the door and back away, slowly.

"Ashley?" I turn around just in time to see you hesitate. "Uh, goodnight."

"'Night, Spence." I shut the door behind me after I leave and lean against it briefly. I throw my head back against the door a little too hard and wince at the thud I made. Ow.

"Ahem," a voice clears to my left. And I'm up and away from the door so fast I almost lose my balance. Nothing like sheer terror at the hands of Mother Superior to get you going again.

"Mrs. Carlin. I was just--" And then the door opened, and you stick your head out. Then we're all three talking at once about noise and knocking and going to the bathroom before your mom suggests that we all should just go to bed before we wake the rest of the house.

I try to get comfortable on the couch, but it's kind of lumpy. Wait, no, that was just the remote under my ass. There, that's better. After what I guess is half an hour of trying to sleep, I get up and grope my way to the kitchen. I bump my shin on something hard and suppress a curse word.

Sitting at your little nook thing, I play with the glass of milk in my hands. And seeing as it's kind of hard to play with a full glass, I'm mostly just rolling it between my hands. I think I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and freeze until a figure appears in the darkened doorway. Even in the almost-black I can see you smile.

"Looks like we had the same bright idea," you say and go towards the fridge in search of milk.

"It's like we have one brain." Then I think about that. "Wait…." But you just laugh a little Spencer laugh and join me a the table. Counter? Whatever.

We wait in comfortable silence as clouds move across the tabletop in dark light, your bare feet barely touching mine. We're not drinking anymore, we've stopped talking, just sitting, sitting. I want to look at you because, hello, when do I ever not? And this whole covert-side-glancing-when-the-other-isn't-looking thing is getting a little old.

So, I turn to you and try and think of something, anything remotely intelligent or at least interesting to say, but you're already looking at me. Burning blue into tired brown, and I have to remind myself how to breathe. In, out. In, out. It doesn't have to be interesting, just words, say something!

"Spencer--" but it comes out like air, I'm just breathing your name and it doesn't matter anyway because you've already closed this distance between us and I don't need to know how to breathe when your lips are on mine.

You're kissing me and it's soft and perfect and hard and scary all at once. It's better than I could've hoped and scarier than I would've thought and over before I know it because you pull away just as quickly as you leaned in.

You make a sound that's almost like a laugh, and say something that sounds like, "I….go," and wave your hands in the general vicinity of the stairs and nearly bump into the door jamb moving away. From me. Very quickly. I don't follow though. I'm still working on that breathing thing. I do try to call after you but all that comes out is air and all I can do is bring a hand to mine lips because they're still tingling from when yours touched them.