A/N: Meh-ish. I was being lazy with this one. It's really a filler, as there's no real plot-progression. Sorry! Also, sorry if it gets too fluffy. Totally unintended.

Also, I want to thank all of my readers for reading this fic! All of youthe people who review, the people who don't review, are just amazing. I'd never expected that writing fanfiction could be so great, and it's because of your support that I continue doing this.

Chapter 16 - Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

Spencer Hastings was feeling like a poet. Sometimes, in her teenage years, she had allowed herself enough moments of controlled narcissism to admit that she did have a certain way with words, especially when the words happened to be long and unwieldy enough to intimidate most of her peers. But words, for her, had always been instruments. Surgical, precise, to be used when necessary. Now, they were becoming embellishments.

Anyone would feel like a goddamn poet when they were tangled up in bed with Emily Fields.

There were several cliches that were fighting among themselves to make it out of her mouth and escape into the quiet silence of the night, but Spencer controlled her poetic impulses. She didn't want to sound corny and stupid. This was uncharted territory, and one false move could mean serious peril.

"I've always been a morning person," Spencer whispered against Emily's cheek, her hands tightening around Emily's waist, pulling her closer (even if the feat seemed almost impossible). "You've changed that." She smiled, and Emily could feel it in the way her lips stretched against her cheek, the way some of that perpetual tension in the way she held Emily disappeared.

"I don't know whether I should be sorry." Emily moved her hands from Spencer's, and pulled her long, silky locks out of the way, so that she could crane her neck and look at Spencer. "I don't know whether I can be sorry."

Spencer laughed softly, the slope of her nose being pressed flat against the spot where Emily's jaw met her ear. She inhaled deeply, feeling strong notes of cinnamon and juniper overwhelm her senses. "You shouldn't be sorry. At all."

"I had a feeling you'd say that." Emily was smiling too, in the sweet, shy way that was so unmistakably hers. Her eyes were closed, but Spencer had a feeling that if she herself stopped smiling, the raven-haired girl would somehow sense it.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were getting cocky."

It was an obvious bait, and Emily cracked her eyes open just a bit to look at Spencer, rising to the opportunity with unconcealed relish. "You're not the only one with the license to act conceited." She rolled her eyes before closing them again, but her smile gave everything away.

Spencer chuckled again, and brushed her lips against the corner of Emily's mouth. She felt the taller girl stiffen briefly with surprise, then lean into her touch, eager for more. She pulled away before the kiss progressed, sighing.

"You're the only one who should have a license to act conceited, though," she whispered, making Emily twist around and look at her properly. Spencer's eyes were glinting with unconcealed admiration, and Emily felt her own eyes light up in response. "I mean...look at you," Spencer breathed out, grinning. Her voice was hushed, but filled with such awe and reverence, that Emily had to look away because she was blushing too hard.

Spencer found her face buried in midnight black tresses when Emily turned her head, and she didn't mind, not really. The smell of Emily was making her head swim in the most delicious way, and she felt her eyelids drooping. A deep contentment started swelling inside her, filling her up, the likes of which she had never felt in her life. "This is so nice."

Emily hummed her approval in response, enjoying the way every part of her body was somehow connected to Spencer's. Spencer's knees were brushing against the back of her knees, her shins were pressed to her calves, their hips had merged in harmonic sinusoidal waves on the bed. Spencer's arms were locking her firmly in place, and her hands were slowly tracing circles on the skin of her waist, making her jump slightly now and then. She was slowly getting used to the way Spencer's touch ignited little trails of fire that spread and joined to form larger waves of warmth that engulfed her. Now, she was appreciating the way Spencer was breathing slowly against the back of her neck, stirring the locks of hair gathered there.

"I still can't believe you're here."

It was crazy, and exhilarating, and scary.

But mostly crazy.

"Me either." Another laugh, a little shaky this time. "She won't wake up, will she?"

Spencer was deliberately not using Arianna's name, and Emily knew that. She shrugged, and the movement made new parts of Spencer come in contact with her skin, and the process of getting used to the distracting sensations was repeated again. New tingles blossomed at a million different spots, until Emily felt like she was composed of nothing but tenuous connections between little, burning fires sparked by Spencer. "If she did..." Emily shuddered to think of what might be the consequence if Arianna were to walk in now, and find Emily and Spencer curled up in bed like this. There was no way they could talk their way out of that one. Spencer was in nothing but a shirt, for heaven's sake, and Emily was all too aware of that in the way their bare legs were tangled up in each other's.

"We'd be screwed."

"She'd kill you." Emily laughed, because suddenly, the consequences seemed less threatening, and more comical. "She would murder you and mount your head on the living room wall."

Spencer bristled, her fingers curling and digging into Emily's skin, making her gasp. "I'd like to see her try." There was humour in her voice still, but it was tinged with unashamed annoyance.

"So would I, actually," Emily smirked, nudging Spencer with her elbow.

And just like that, the girl who slumbered, blissfully ignorant, in the next room (who had crossed their minds for a fraction of a moment, a filler between breaths), was already forgotten.

Spencer gasped with mock indignation, then turned Emily around completely till they were face to face. "I bet that's been your fantasy for a while," she countered, her trademark smirk making Emily feel like she'd been doing it wrong all along.

"One of them," Emily replied cryptically, using a different tactic to get at her opponent. She was pleased to see the smirk on Spencer's face being replaced by another equally infamous Spencer look : the one that resembled a fox's on a hunt.

"There's no way you're telling me the others, are you?"

Emily shook her head, grinning from ear to ear. It was so fun to see Spencer getting tortured when any kind of information was held back from her. And she loved the rush of power that she felt whenever Spencer looked at her with those big, brown eyes full of silent pleas.

"You have to!" Spencer whined, her hands moving up and framing Emily's face.

"I won't tell, but..." Emily's smile turned devious, and she leaned forward, making Spencer's breath lose its way on its journey out of her lungs. "I'd like to show you, maybe."

"Oh."

Spencer was dying several slow, torturous deaths at the same time. The worst thing was that Emily—the seemingly sweet and innocent Emily—looked like she knew very well the effect she was having on Spencer. It was such a strange shift from what used to be a purely platonic relationship between the two, and Spencer found herself struggling to catch up with her speeding heart and whirling thoughts. No one, male or female, had made her feel incapacitated enough to make her wonder if her name was really Spencer Hastings or whether she had dreamed her whole life up, and the only moments that were real were the ones with Emily in them.

All her feelings made her so afraid; the fact that Emily was hovering inches from her face certainly didn't help things at all. But feelings were good for nothing, as the next few moments proved. While she just lay there, impotent with all her pent-up emotions, Emily took matters in her own hands, and pressed a kiss against her lips, sighing slightly at the contact.

It hadn't been even a full thirty minutes since they'd finally stopped making out like a couple of teenagers, and Spencer found herself falling into the routine again. Only, it wasn't a routine like anything she'd ever known before. Kissing Emily Fields was like diving into an unfamiliar ocean, with an unknown depth. With every moment, she discovered something new, something that thrilled her till she quivered with barely suppressed excitement.

"We can't keep kissing," Spencer murmured against Emily's lips, without meaning her words, before nipping at the tip of her tongue. Emily retaliated in kind, and her words were made redundant. Lips and tongues battled in a war for dominance, a war that seemed to have victory on both sides, a war that possessed sweet defeats that didn't really feel like losses.

"Says who?" Emily whispered after a while, breathing slowly, her eyes fluttering open, surprising Spencer, who had thought that Emily hadn't even heard her in the first place.

"Says logic."

Emily rolled her eyes, and when she felt Spencer pull away, her hands immediately went to the back of her neck to cease her unwanted retreat. Boldly, she tugged on Spencer's delectable, upper lip with her teeth, causing their mouths to collide. She tasted victory in Spencer's moan against her, and the way those pale, slender fingers were now twisted wildly in Emily's hair. "Screw logic," she mumbled in between kisses, not giving the other girl a chance to reply.

Spencer pulled back after several heated moments, a smile stretching her swollen lips. "I'm sorry to inform you, but Logic has relinquished all ties with us," she replied to Emily's earlier words. Her fingers moved from Emily's hair, down her neck and rested on her collarbone, lightly tapping the skin there. "However, as Logic's representative, I will be more than willing to fill in," she added, her eyes dancing as she surveyed the quick change in colour of Emily's face. Emily was biting her lip, and those doe-eyes had widened ever so slightly, as if daring Spencer to go on.

Spencer did not know what exactly she was implying. (She knew too well, but she'd forbidden her mind from going down that road, for now). From what she could gauge, Emily too had created these borders, these invisible lines that they were both skirting around at the moment.

"Hm. I don't settle for replacements," Emily replied after a long beat, trying to joke it off, and she'd already turned away. She was on her back now, gazing up at the dancing shadows on the ceiling.

Spencer could only make out her profile because it was darker against the muted grey of their surroundings, clear cut against the blurry background. She continued lying on her side, but finding the sudden distance between them irritating, she inched closer to Emily, slinging a leg over Emily's, and an arm over her stomach.

"Em?"

"Hmmm?"

"What are we?" The words sounded awkward, and so unlike Spencer that Emily was forced to pause her sudden research on the ceiling and look at the girl lying next to her. Spencer flushed slightly, and chose to rephrase her words. "I can hardly call you my friend now, can I? I don't think friends do...this." Spencer winced, hating the fact that she had to resort to that word again, but it had slipped out before she could stop herself. Besides, what other alternative did she have?

Emily chewed on her lip, staring at Spencer. "You're right. Friends don't do this."

Spencer tilted her head. "But I don't feel any different." Noting Emily's look of confusion, she hastened to add, "I mean, you're still Emily Fields. My best friend." She grinned, shifting even closer until the front of her body was pressed to Emily's side. "Only, now, you're a best friend that I like to kiss."

"Like?" Emily scoffed, a small smile playing on her lips. "That's an understatement."

Spencer acknowledged it with a slight bow of her head. "Fine, fine. Love."

Emily bit her lip to stop her smile from spreading. "Still falling a little short."

Spencer rolled her eyes. "What do you even want me to say?"

"Maybe that you're addicted. No, that's too tame a word. How about obsession?" Emily's voice was without any exaggerated inflection; her hands drawing teasing circles on Spencer's forearm were enough proof that she was playfully taunting the brunette.

"Addicted?" Spencer laughed, moving till her chin was comfortably wedged between Emily's neck and shoulder. "I'm so not addicted! I've only kissed you a few times." Although that statement was not so true after this night.

"And whose fault is that?", Emily asked rhetorically. Now, she was openly smirking, her lips moving of their own volition.

Spencer exhaled shakily, her gaze skimming over the enticing lines that made up Emily's face—the curves of cocked eyebrows, the indentations on her cheeks, the delicate strokes of a million dark lashes that looked like an invitation. This girl was slowly, but surely, making Spencer lose her mind. She bit her lip absently, and smiled. "I never knew this side of you. I never even knew it existed."

Emily's eyebrows raised even higher, and Spencer hastened to add, "Not that I don't like it."

"I don't doubt that," Emily giggled softly, careful enough not to be too loud. "Now that I have the Hastings stamp of approval, I think I should make this side public."

"Don't you dare!" Spencer quickly interjected, her eyes widening in protest. She really didn't want Emily to be like this with anyone else. But then, perhaps Emily was like this with all the girls she was involved with. Did that mean that all those girls—Maya, Samara, Paige, and god, even Arianna—knew this side? The thought made Spencer feel more than a little bit annoyed.

"Why not?" Emily asked, her hand moving down to rest on Spencer's arm. She looked like she already knew the answer to that question, but she'd rather have Spencer say it.

"Because..! Well, for purely humanitarian reasons," Spencer replied matter-of-factly.

Emily frowned in confusion. "What?"

"If you unleash so much sexiness on the world, it would surely result in a catastrophe. I mean, imagine those poor people who don't have a will of steel like me! They would perish." A hint of a smile still lingered on Spencer's lips, but she rattled out the sentences like she was stating well-known facts, and the absurdness of the whole thing made Emily laugh in response.

"You should introduce me to that will of steel of yours. It's been MIA so far."

Spencer mock-gasped. "You're kidding. It's very much in action, even right now." When Emily scoffed in response, Spencer raised a hand to tug at her chin, till they were once again looking into each other's eyes. "You should be grateful to my willpower. If it weren't so strong, you would've been currently being assaulted in certain manners that would've guaranteed me a prison sentence. If I hadn't been so damn attractive, that is." She winked, and Emily felt her stomach swoop.

"Are you trying to make me hate that willpower of yours?" Emily whispered, suddenly feeling breathless. "Because, if that's the case, you're doing a very good job."

Spencer's chest felt like it was going to burst. "Would you rather it disappeared?"

Emily nodded, her eyes wider than ever. "Yes, please."

Spencer leaned forward, and met Emily's lips in a slow, sweet kiss. Their mouths touched like all the hesitation that had been a barrier between them before, was now back. It was a chaste touching of lips, yet it managed to make Spencer's heart hammer in her chest. This was just as good as their passion-fueled kisses had been, if not better. The slivers of air between their lips hummed with electricity, and finally, when Emily opened her mouth because she couldn't stand this slowness any longer, she could swear that some of the sparks landed on her tongue.

When they finally pulled free, they were both breathing heavily. Emily was on her side now, her legs tangled up in Spencer's, her hands resting on the flat of Spencer's stomach. Somehow, the buttons at the bottom of Spencer's long shirt had come undone, and a slice of skin reflected the pale, dying moonlight. She was just becoming conscious of where her hands were, but she made no move to remove them. Instead, she let her fingers rise along with Spencer's rhythmic breathing. She casually, deliberately curled her fingers, her nails skimming over the skin, and she felt the toned, stomach muscles clench under her touch.

"Wow. You're really good at this," Spencer mumbled shakily, the tip of her tongue peeking out and wetting the corner of her already-damp mouth. "I guess you have a lot of experience..."

She was hyper-aware of Emily's hands under her shirt, lying innocently on her stomach; her senses had sharpened so much that she could feel every ridge, every line of Emily's palm brushing against her skin. It made warmth pool in the bottom of her stomach, and her own hands, which were at the small of Emily's back, slid under Emily's shirt, and greedily mapped out her smooth back. She could hear a gasp die in Emily's throat, and she could see those blazing ebony eyes fire up even more, and it gave her a satisfaction that she instantly grew addicted to.

"Not a lot," Emily whispered. "But enough," she added, eyes twinkling. "Is this a way of asking me how many girls I've made out with?"

"Maybe," Spencer admitted. She honestly didn't want to know, but she could guess at the amount. Judging from Emily's success in Rosewood—every gay girl there had practically thrown themselves at Emily—Spencer could safely assume that Emily's adventures in college might have given her access to worlds that Spencer knew nothing about. It was a new, weird feeling. For the first time, she was out of her depth.

"Like I said, not too many," Emily replied cryptically. "Please tell me you don't want a list."

Spencer laughed. "I do, actually. I'm going to hunt each one down and fracture their knee-caps. And maim them in other, non-life-threatening ways."

Emily grinned. "To be honest, I don't really know if you're joking."

Spencer pretended to be offended, and her fingertips sunk into Emily's skin, making her gasp. "That's offensive. Am I really that scary?"

Emily nodded.

"That's good," Spencer chuckled, burying her nose in the waves of black hair near Emily's neck. "I like being scary."

"How did I know that you were going to say that?"

"Perhaps it's because you know me too well." Spencer moved her head back a little, gazing up at the skin underneath Emily's chin. She reached up and planted a soft kiss there, and heard Emily sigh in that familiar way that Spencer was growing used to, a sound that she loved.

And it was just that fact, that scared Spencer so much. Toby knew her, knew her in a lot of ways that the other girls didn't. But Emily was her best friend. Although she'd had more time to be alone with Toby, although she'd been consumed (in the past) with a need to get to know him intimately, it still couldn't beat just how well two friends could know each other. Emily knew things about her that no one did, and that was what made this attraction between them so dangerous. All the lines were just so damn blurred, that she didn't know where their friendship ended, and started being something else entirely.

"Now that's scary."

"What is?", Spencer asked, now shifting so that the tip of her nose was against Emily's cheekbone, and her lips hovering near Emily's mouth.

"You being quiet for more than five seconds."

"You're too mean to me. I'm feeling very unwelcome, you know."

"If by unwelcome, you mean thoroughly kissed, then yeah, you should be feeling very unwelcome right now," Emily retorted, smiling. Spencer rolled her eyes, and let her hands move from their safe spot, her fingers teasingly walking upwards, feeling taut muscles underneath. The response was immediate and exactly what Spencer had expected. All words died on Emily's lips, and her breath hitched. Spencer grinned, loving the fact that she had a new weapon to add to her arsenal. Everything, and anything, was useful in a war. This was a completely new tactic, and the more she used it, the more she liked it. Her fingers started drawing lazy circles on smooth skin, and soon, Emily was squirming against her, unable to move back, but also unable to control herself.

"You too should be more verbal about how you're feeling right now, Em."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

And Spencer thought that this was it; they were going to kiss again. But she'd forgotten entirely about the fact that Emily had the same weapons at her disposal. She was reminded by the way Emily's fingers moved quite unconsciously under her shirt, and clutched the ends of her shirt with abandon. It looked like Emily too had forgotten about where her hands were, and that the touch of fabric against her fingertips brought her back to reality. She smirked, and her hands were mimicking Spencer's moves, carefully brushing over the soft, tense lines of Spencer's abs.

"Be careful what you wish for, Spence."

Spencer gasped, and she jumped back, falling off the bed, unable to stand the fiery trail that Emily's fingertips ignited on her skin. It was all too much, and suddenly the room seemed too small for the two of them. Emily was like a blazing fire; so hot that it burnt her, and so bright that it hurt her eyes to gaze at her too much. But all she wanted to do was look at her. It reminded her of how, as a child, she'd ignored the advice of her parents (because even then, she'd loved challenges), and looked at the sun for too long. She'd been left with bright spots in her vision that had blinded her for the rest of the day. That's exactly how she felt right now. Looking at Emily meant that whenever Spencer looked at anything else, she had to blink past the imprints of perfection on her vision, and struggle to see the rest of the world.

"I think...I think I should go."

Emily's smirk was gone now. She sat up, pushing down her shirt which had been teased up by Spencer's hands. All she did was nod, and a pang of disappointment shot through Spencer.

Spencer had no idea what the time was. She looked around the room, trying to find a clock. When she located one, she squinted to judge where the blurry hands where pointing. She had no idea if she was right, but it looked like it was 3 am. Time had somehow moved fast, yet slowly. It had felt like an eternity squeezed into a second. For some reason, being with Emily always made Spencer feel like that. Like time was elastic, like reality was nothing but a figment of her imagination, like logic and reason were words without meaning or practical use.

Her definitions, her ideas, her very beliefs about the world were being slowly erased by this crazy, perfect girl.

And she didn't really mind.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to." Emily had noticed her hesitation, had correctly guessed at what was causing it.

"Arianna..." Spencer mumbled, as if that could be reason enough for her to leave. If she were really scared of the girl sleeping next door, she would've never been crazy enough to step foot in this room. But then again, if Spencer had been behaving normally, she would've never even thought of sneaking off into the night to come to Emily's house. "Toby. He might wake up, and if he doesn't find me, he'll worry."

"I don't want you to leave." Emily bit her lip, lowering her lashes and gazing at her hands. She knew that goodbyes meant nothing when it came to the two of them, but it didn't mean that she liked them.

"I don't want to leave."

They were both being surprisingly verbal about their feelings. Something had changed after this night, the brief hours that they had spent together. The tension that had been breaking them in the locker room had gone; it had been replaced by a different kind of ache, a pull that seemed to bind them together. They could breathe easier now that everything was out into the open (at least between them), but at the same time, there was something that caused both their chests to feel constricted whenever their gazes locked.

"I don't want to leave." The air was too dense, the mood too sombre. Spencer didn't want to leave with the image of a sullen, distraught Emily.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow," she said in a high, dramatic voice. She grinned, quoting from Romeo and Juliet again, wondering if Emily would pick up on it. Shakespeare had been Spencer's favourite in school, but Emily had always hated the 'old-people talk' that they'd been forced to endure. That had meant that whenever they got homework, Spencer was the one who had to do it for Emily.

"That I shall say good night till it be morrow," Emily finished, raising her eyes almost shyly, and smiling.

It surprised Spencer so much that she nearly swooned on the spot, then controlled herself. She was honestly losing her head. "Just when I thought that I couldn't love you more." She chuckled, walking backwards till she was near the French windows.

Emily blushed furiously, and just like that, she was back to being the sweet, shy Emily Fields that Spencer had known all her life. She ducked her head. "You're honestly not going to Spiderman your way out, are you?"

"I wasn't aware of another way out." Spencer blinked, feeling rather stupid. She'd been so caught up in the moment, that she'd forgotten about how she would leave.

"You know, there's this wonderful passageway that they call the door. Normal people use it all the time! Maybe you should try." Emily was trying hard not to laugh, and Spencer made a face at her. "I'll show you the way downstairs. The stairs don't creak, thank goodness."

"No, no. I'll go. I'm good at this sneaky spy business." Spencer waved away Emily's protests and started making her way towards the door, then stopped mid-way. She turned around, her eyebrows raised. "Arianna won't wake up, will she?"

"Don't worry. Her bark is worse than her bite," Emily reassured her, somehow making it sound like a subtle tease. "That is, if you stay alive long enough to feel her bite."

"Ha-ha." Spencer was trying really hard to keep a straight face, but it was proving to be quite difficult. "Always knew she was a bitch," she muttered under her breath. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she said to Emily, her tone lifting with hope.

"Of course." As if Spencer even needed to ask. Emily didn't think that there would ever come a day when they wouldn't meet. Somehow, they always managed to find their way to each other, albeit in strange ways, but she wasn't complaining.

"Good night, Em." Spencer lingered near the door, narrowing her eyes to try and see better in the dark. She could make out the dark shape of Emily on the bed, but the nuances of her face had blended into the gray that coated their surroundings. She would have to wait till the light of the day lit up those features before she could gaze fondly on them again.

"Good night, Spence."

A/N: Comments/Criticisms? I'd love anything you've got to say. Don't be shy. (;

SpemilyForever: No, your reviews are great! You're right, it would totally suck to be them, but hey, they're not Spemily. (; You'll have to wait for that kind of drama, I'm afraid. But more drama's headed your way!
My favourite scene? The orchard one, although it's very cliche. I love the poetry of their words, so much! Or perhaps when they actually first meet. It's not my favourite play, plot-wise, but the words are just so damn beautiful.

AxLax420: Thank you so much for those kind comments! I don't know about intelligence, this story sort of just writes itself! I am just the instrument. Poor Toby, I shall try to downplay his presence, but what's love without angst? (;

Sinclaire: Wow! Thank you so much!

CloudGypsy: They are totally wicked. But then, kissing sessions are totally necessary, or how would they function otherwise?
Thank you. I'm really glad you like this story.

Kxia: It's enough to know if my chapters are working right, and I think you got that across very well, haha. Thank you.

hRcK1224: Thanks a lot!

Guest: Thanks so much for the kindness! I'm glad my struggle didn't show, I was aiming for that, really.

abbeydawnyeah: Idk about being a pro, but I'm really flattered that you think so!

spinoza-off: Wow, thanks. I think I'm a little too fond of humour and irony, and I really try to be funny, but mostly, I think it's a wasted effort. I just don't want my chapters to have the same tone throughout, as I'm really afraid of putting the reader to sleep, and I'm glad that some parts are making you laugh.
You are right, about Toby being a little obtuse about his relationship with Spencer. He's just afraid to see something so perfect fall apart.
I guess the thing that made me a total Spemily shipper was your fic, Speeding Up, coz it was just...wow! Totally blew my mind. Yeah. So, I guess that is my inspiration when I try to show all the little ways in which these two are just completely perfect for each other.

LaughLoveLiveXx: I'm glad that the references weren't too stupid or cliched. As you can see, I've continued that theme.
Yeah, Spencer and Toby are working hard to save their relationship, but they can only do so much. What Spencer and Emily have is completely different from what Spencer and Toby have and that's the key to why Spencer is slowly drifting away from someone she used to love so much.
I think it will take them much more time to actually admit to loving each other in that way, because, most of all, they're scared. It's not going to be easy, for sure.

go-sullivan: Haha. Emily topping has to be the hottest thing ever, yeah.

Craycrayforshay: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it.

Evanemore: Please don't die! I can't lose such a lovely reader. :)

JustforKicks403: I'm glad the scenes come out as hot, because I think any Spemily scene should be just crazy sexy, so I needed to translate that into words. I think Spencer's the only one who can make being dorky look sexy, and yeah, thinking of Emily sure makes her do a lot of crazy things!
I think the quiet ones are always the wildest, and Emily, for sure would be one of those, and I'm just trying to show that as the fic progresses. She's only this way with Spencer, because she feels comfortable enough to tease her and flirt with her. But obviously, her external persona returns even when Spencer's around, as she has this automatic defense system built in that makes her act all shy and reticent.
And thank you! Don't worry, I love long rants very much! :)