Ok, so I'm not happy with any of this little update, so it prolly really sucks, meh. I've up'ed the rating because the "b" and "w" words are used - shocker!

As always, thanks to all that r&r!

God I hate Ashley's house, it's so desolate, her room is the only one that ever seems to have any life in it; well I guess all the life in her room radiates from her. When I reach Ashley's room I can hear some light rustling and figure it must be Ash pottering about, it's not. "Who are you, and does Ashley know you're ripping her off?"

"Let me guess, Spencer?" Yeah, but who are you, and where's Ashley?

"How'd you know?"

"You called, remember?" Oh, so this is the whore slash bitch – "whorebitch" – who picked up Ashley's phone. The whorebitch was looking over at Ashley – who was comatose on the bed – as she spoke. "And for someone Ashley didn't want to talk to, she talked about you the whole night."

"She did?" I feel a wave of hope course through me.

"Yeah, I guess she's no longer in-between." The whorebitch said as she pushed past me.

"What?" And what is up with whacking into my shoulder?

"Forget it." Bye-bye whorebitch. I put Ashley's money – that the whorebitch readily dropped when I walked into the room – back into her purse and tentatively make my way over to Ashley's bed.

She's barely wearing anything at all, just a pair of boys boxer shorts that's have ridden and ruffled up and a dark t-shit that has slithered up exposing her stomach – I love her stomach, it's so toned and tanned and the flesh is so soft and smooth and… I bite back a sigh and lightly shake my head, mentally berating myself for being so lecherous.

Drawing a deep breath into my lungs, I perch on the edge of the bed with my feet under my butt and reach for the arm that Ashley has draped over her eyes. I pull the arm – that feels like dead weight – away from Ash's face and drop it down onto her bed, the movement stirs her and she squirms about, her body pushing itself upwards off of the mattress.

With her eyes still closed I start talking to her, "Sorry, I was freaked out," her eyes open briefly and I can see how dilated her pupils are, "I didn't want to deal with being gay, but I couldn't deal with not being with you." This time her eyes snap open and her gaze steadies on me, and I can feel myself beginning to melt.

"I'm not easy."

I know that now is not the time to joke, but I can't let that comment slip by, "That's not what I've heard."

I'm sure if she had the strength, she'd be rolling her eyes, "I meant to be with," and despite herself she smiles a little.

"I know, but we're already friends, that's the hard part, so lets just start there and see what happens." It feels like a whole weight has been lifted off of my shoulders as I let that little speech out, finally it feels as if we can move forward in our relationship after dancing around how we really feel for months.

As I'm about to twist my body into a more comfortable position, Ashley rests her head on top of my thighs and I can feel my heart swell a little. I arch my back over a bit more and start stroking her tangled tresses, feeling her warm breath through the soft cotton of my jeans. As the warm exhalations hitting my legs start to even and steady, I know that soon she'll be asleep.

Somewhere at the back of my mind I have an uneasy feeling that she won't remember any of this when she wakes in the morning. I don't know what she's taken, but I couldn't smell alcohol on her breath so I'm guessing her particular poison for this evening was a harsh – most probably class a – drug. I crane my neck an arch my back a little more, feeling a sharp twinge shoot down the left hand side of my spine I place a gentle kiss on the back of her head and softly sigh into her tousled hair.