Thank you for the replies, and for not giving up on this story. I'm sorry you all had to wait so long. But I promise, from here on out, there'll be more frequent updates. Like I said in the notes before the last chapter, I plan on finshing this up sometime during the summer.

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Complicated.

15:

Corey stood, hands stuffed in her jean pockets, staring down at the 'welcome' mat on the ground under her scuffed up Vans, and mentally flitted through how she wanted the scene mere seconds away from happening to go. Smooth, calm, controlled. That's how she hoped it would unfold, but she had to be more realistic than that. Spencer's current mood was a mystery. And as much as she wanted to just allow Spencer to talk, explain what happened and be done with it, which was normally how these things went, part of her was just too upset. She needed to get her own point across this time.

The latch on the opposite side of the door was finally released. She looked up, put on a neutral front, and prepared herself to be greeted by the beautiful blond.

"Hey," Spencer said, lips curling into a genuine smile.

Corey flicked her eyes to the right and left before zeroing in on her girlfriend. "Oh, so you do remember who I am?"

Confused by the statement, the photographer replied, "Uh, yeah, of course I remember who you are."

"I guess that rules out my theory of temporary amnesia then. Damn."

Spencer remained clueless. Or remained acting clueless. Corey wasn't sure which. With a tilted head and a nervous laugh, the long-haired blond went on to say, "What's going on? What's this about?"

"Nothing much, just your car accident. You know, the one you had yesterday and didn't bother telling me, your girlfriend, about."

Spencer closed her eyes before leaning her forehead against the door. After a few seconds, she sighed and stepped back, swinging the door open along with her by its handle. Corey took that as an invitation into the apartment.

Without saying a word, Spencer disappeared into the kitchen. Corey stood uncomfortably in the middle of the living room, with Charlie, the perky golden retriever, sniffing her pants and shoes. When Spencer returned, she was carrying two already opened bottles of beer. She offered one to Corey.

"I was going to tell you about that..."

Corey watched the other woman carefully, taking in all her nervous body language. Tilted head, no eye contact, shifting feet, free hand buried in back pocket. "You were?" she finally asked.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Corey just shrugged and brought her beer up to her lips for a slow sip.

"Who told you?"

"Aiden told Ashley this morning, and she mentioned it to me after I got home from my run. I guess he must've figured I already knew, because he wanted me to take you to get a rental car. He had other plans and couldn't fit it in today like he had thought."

"Oh..." Spencer dropped her gaze, pulled her hand out of her pocket and ran a finger down the neck of her beer bottle. "I'm sorry."

Corey, instead of accepting the apology or responding, dropped to her knees and finally gave the sweet dog beneath her the attention he desperately wanted. She rubbed and scratched his long, soft coat with her free hand.

Spencer quietly moved forward and eased down onto the edge of the coffee table, placing herself directly in front of the younger woman. "What are you feeling right now?"

Corey glanced up, but continued scratching Charlie behind the ear. "I don't know. Disappointed, I guess... A little jealous."

"Jealous?"

She nodded, "Of Aiden."

"Aiden?"

"Yeah. Why are you so shocked by that?

"I'm just not sure why you'd be jealous of Aiden. He's my friend, Corey."

"I know. I'm not really jealous of him. It's more about what he represents. Your number one, go-to person." Corey gave the dog one last pat on the back and stood up. She dropped down next to Spencer, on the blond's right, took a quick sip of beer, then continued, "I want to be the one who gets the first call, the one you turn to, the one you need. And after what happened yesterday, I don't even feel like I'm on your call list."

Once again, Spencer's gaze fell, "I, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I'm sorry I didn't call, I know I should have. I... I guess I'm just not used to this. I mean, I haven't been in many serious relationships over the years, I've mostly been on my own, so I'm not used to depending on or getting support from someone I'm with."

"I know, Spence. I understand that. But, you were in a car accident. Did the thought of calling and telling me you were okay even come up? Because if it didn't--"

"Yes, I thought about calling you," the photographer quickly cut in, with her eyes raised, meeting Corey's. "Of course I did."

"Then, why didn't you?"

"I, I don't know... so much shit happened yesterday, I was tired. So tired. Of everything. I knew if I called you, you'd get worried, come straight here and start fussing over me. And I didn't want that last night. I wanted to be alone."

"Spencer," Corey set her beer down and scooted closer, "when you're not in the mood for my company, all you have to do is say so. For instance, last night, if you had told me not to come over, I wouldn't have come. I respect your wishes."

Spencer shook her head. "I can't just tell you not to come over."

"Why not?"

"It's... it's mean."

Corey smiled, "No, it's not. Trust me. I would've understood. Besides, I've dated my share of women in the past, I know when I am and when I'm not wanted around. So next time, when you need a break, or you just want to be alone, tell me. Don't just not say anything, or avoid me altogether. I'm not a big fan of that."

In response, Spencer placed her right hand on the coffee table, fingers splayed, and leaned forward to press her lips against Corey's. One kiss turned into two, then three, then twelve. Corey's hands were wrapped around the back of Spencer's head, tangled in hair, while the photographer concentrated on sucking her tongue.

Spencer blindly sat her beer down near Corey's and moved her hands up the younger woman's jean covered thighs. She released the tongue that her lips were wrapped around, exchanging it for a cherry ChapStick flavored bottom lip. "Couch," she managed to get out, as she nipped the lip with her teeth. "Mm, c'mon."

Corey allowed herself to be pulled up from the coffee table and moved to the couch, where she was pushed down into a sitting position and straddled.

Before diving back into things, Spencer's hands dropped to the hem of her t-shirt and in one quick motion it was up, over her head, and onto the floor.

Corey put her hands on the blond's now naked torso and shifted forward, placing a few feather-light kisses along the area between Spencer's breasts, which were still covered up by a light blue bra. "Hey, wait, um..." she said suddenly, pulling back, "you're okay, right?" She shook her head, clearing it of its haziness for the moment to ask, "I mean, in the accident, you weren't hurt or anything, were you? I was just joking about the temporary amnesia thing earlier, 'cause Aiden said you were okay..."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine."

"How did it happen? Was it your fault?"

Spencer, not wanting to lose the moment they were currently in, began unsnapping the front of Corey's rockabilly western-style shirt. "Yeah, it was my fault. I didn't see that the light was red and ran into the back of another car. I wasn't paying attention. My mind was all over the place."

"Work stuff?"

Glancing up, meeting her girlfriend's now concerned but still hungry eyes, the photographer swallowed. "Yeah, work stuff."

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