Disclaimer: I don't own the beautifully talented writing of Jan Coffey. Nor do I own the wonderfully talented work, or characters, of Tom Lynch.

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Spencer stared at her. The brunette was reaching around her for her luggage and obviously reading the nametag on it. The blond grabbed for it and Ash didn't try to wrestle for it.

"Do you know I've been looking for you for almost an hour?" The brunette said.

"Who are you?" Spencer let go of the suitcase and picked up her purse and backpack.

"Ashley Davies. You can call me Ash.," she replied, reaching for the two suitcases. She didn't bother rolling them. Instead, in true macho fashion, she picked them up by the handle and started off down the sidewalk. Her upper body strength was evident through the clingy white polo. And her skater style khaki's kind of gave off a slim tomboyish figure.

"Showoff," Spencer mumbled underneath her breath. "Excuse me," the blond called out.

"I'm parked in the side lot," Ash called over her shoulder. "Stay here. I'll bring the car around."

"Hello!" she shouted louder. "You're welcome to my lacy underwear in those cases. But is your name suppose to mean anything to me?"

She stopped and slowly turned around. "Ashley Davies? Arthur Carlin's assistant? Ring any bells?"

"No."

"I'm your father's assistant. A summer intern. I was told you'd be waiting in the luggage area for me to pick you up."

"I wasn't told anything," Spencer had to be careful. The week before leaving Cincinnati, her computer had fried and of course, Arthur's way of communication was through e-mail. With all that Spencer's mother, Paula had on her plate though, getting a new computer was not a priority. " But if I was suppose to meet you, where were you?"

"I was there in the luggage area," she said shortly.

"I was there, too," the blonde replied, matching the brunette's tone. She picked up her sunglasses and put them on. "And so were a couple hundred passengers. Whatever happened to the good ole' days of holding up a sign?"

"Small airport. I didn't think it would be too difficult finding you."

"Really? Even though we've never met. And how would you know what I looked like?"

By now, Ashley was getting pretty tired of the blonde's mini interrogation. "Look, there are a couple of pictures of you on your father's desk."

Spencer could only imagine what kind of pictures Ash was talking about. Junior high school graduation or even earlier. It had been three full years since she had last seen Arthur. And about the same time since she had bothered to send him an up-to-date picture. They talked once a month on the phone for just about an entire minute. And of course, there was e-mail.

Spencer looked over the top of her sunglasses at her. "Do you have some kind of ID or verification of who you say you are?"

Ash shot her an irritated look, but put down her luggage and reached for her wallet in her back pocket. Spencer stared at the card that was push in her face. "You live in Los Angeles?"

"I'm a college student in D.C." She snapped the wallet close and put it back in her pocket. "I had to be somewhere else like, an hour ago. If you can't make it to the lot, I'll bring the car around."

"Grouch," she said under her breath, watching the brunette stalk down the sidewalk with her luggage.

It had been six weeks since her leg had gone into the cast, and Spencer was ready for the special Olympics when it came to moving along on crutches. She wasn't going to be left behind. She wasn't going to wait at some curb so that Ms. Personality could do her a favor.

The car was actually an open Jeep. The blond reached it just as Ash was the second piece of luggage onto the backseat. She didn't seen surprised when Spencer got there though. Or, if she was, she did a swell job at hiding it.

Climbing into the front seat took a bit of maneuvering. She had to find room for her crutches and there was a step she had to climb. To Spencer's surprise, Ash was right there, holding her elbow and helping her up.

It was easy to deal with one's rudeness. However, she was kind of flustered by Ash's help. And by the feel of her hand on her skin. And she also couldn't help but notice-despite the heat-how good Ash smelt. Kind of like spice and leather.

"You didn't tell your father about that."

Ash was standing by the side of the door, staring at the cast. Or maybe checking out her legs, Spencer thought, realizing the hem of her dress had ridden up. She pulled the fabric down.

"I was planning to be out of it by the time I got here. But my doctor didn't agree."

Actually, Spencer had been relieved. She wasn't healed. She could tell that for herself.

"How much longer have you got?"

"Two weeks."

She didn't miss the face Ash made before going around and getting behind the wheel. It was like she was deciding if she could live with it for two weeks or not.

No more confrontations, Spencer told herself. Ash was giving her a free ride. And she wasn't going to read into the annoyed looks she gave or anything she says. As far as she knew, this would be the last time they would see each other while in Aruba. And it was only for two months or so.

The brunette tied her hair in a messy bun, fixed her glasses, and started on the main road.

Spencer lifted her face into the wind as Ash started driving. The sun was setting and the balmy air circulation felt good around her.

She tried to pay attention to where they were going. She hoped that once her cast was off, Arthur would let hr use his car. They were traveling on route 1B. She was impressed with the maintenance of the road and the on each side of it. So many of them looked obviously new.

The traffic slowed to a crawl as they reached the capital, Oranjestad(Oh-ryan-stahd). She had read it in an airline magazine that it was pronounced like that. As Spencer looked around her, she found the town downright charming. The yellow, pink, and blue stucco buildings looked just like they had in the brochure. The tree-lined streets were beautiful, and the town center was spotless. They sidewalks were filled with window shoppers of every size, age, and color. Restaurants were doing a brisk cocktail business at tables set outside under multi-colored umbrellas, and looking up, she could see more tables along railings and tanned, smiling faces looking back at her.

She looked to her left, across the divider in the road, at the harbor. The surface of the water looked like shimmering gold in the light of the setting sun. The marina was packed with everything from fishing boats to sail boats.

"This is where you come when you want to go shopping," Ash said.

"Really?" She asked wryly. "Do you do a lot of shopping?"

"Me? No. I'd rather have bamboo shoots stuck under my perfectly manicured nails." Ash paused. "You're kidding me, right?"

Spencer smiled sweetly at her and looked out at the brightly lit sign of a club they were passing. "Mambo Jambo," she read aloud. That looked interesting.

"Is there anything else to do in Oranjestad?" She asked.

"There are a couple of museums, libraries, schools, playgrounds, nonalcoholic-accepting areas. . ."

"How about nightlife?" Spencer asked curtly.

"We just passed the theater."

"What about clubs?"

Ash sent her a sidelong glance. "Aren't you a little young for clubs?"

Spencer bit back her answer as the driver of a silver Mercades in the opposite direction planted her hand on the horn and slowed down. The windows of the car rolled down and three blond heads popped out.

"ASH!" The driver waved madly at the brunette.

"Oh my god I love you Ash," one of them sang from the backseat.

Just as one of the blonds was about to open the door and get out, Ash gunned the Jeep, driving around them and down the road. Hanging on, Spencer almost screamed as Ash drove on two wheels on the sidewalk for some twenty yards before making a sharp turn down a narrow street on there right and sped away.

----------------------------------------------------

"Fan club?" she asked, forcing her fingers to release the grip on the seat.

Ashley's face was blushing furiously. She didn't answer right away and when Spencer turned her head to look at her, she looked kind of embarrassed.

"Something like that," Ashley replied.

"Really? How so?"

"I'm…um, well I'm not into labels but. . ."

"You're. . .?"

"Gay," Ashley said."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"Okay."

Spencer really didn't know what else to say. She was feeling pretty ambivalent about the situation. For one, she just met the girl so she didn't exactly know how to comfort her, or talk to her after all. Like, was she the one who wanted to gat all sentimental? Or, was she jus the type to shrug off any intense topic?

One thing she was sure of. They both had something in common. Yes. Spencer. Is. Gay. She "outed" herself a month ago and surprisingly, her parents took it well. Ben didn't really care as long as Spencer was starting to accept him as a stepfather. Paula took a little time to adjust, but in the end, she just wanted Spencer to be happy.

So here she is. Hot and blonde with one of the hottest tomboyish brunette's she had ever seen. Only she's not going to tell her she's gay. In fact, she's not going to fall for her. Spencer just got out of one hell of a heart-wretched breakup with a guy named Jake about 2 months ago. He found out she was gay and confronted her. Then he broke up with her. Problem is, he was a very sweet guy. It was the most weirdest and intense relationship she'd ever experience. Her heart was as fragile as her leg. She learned from experience. She also didn't fancy showing affection in public, or ever, as Jake had put it. He tried everything possible to make her see how much she meant to him. He did mean a lot to him, but she never really showed it.

Besides, what would be the point in telling Ash any of this if she never saw her again. No point. Exactly.

After a few more minutes of driving, they were back on route 1B on Oranjestad.

Morgan adjusted her sunglasses and looked at Ash again. With the wind ruffling the loose strands of hair that escaped her bun, Ash looked even more hot that she originally thought. She figured those girls were around the same age as Ash. And Ashley was twenty; she figured it out when she saw her license card. Never in her life would she act like the blondes though. Never in her life.

"How far are we from Arthur's house?"

"Ten minutes, tops," she said. "He lives in a section called Bakval. It's a stone throw away from the high rise area. That's where the big hotels are. Nice beaches too."

Spencer smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from her dress.

Ash pointed to one of the larger buildings that was under construction. "That's the new hospital."

Spencer tucked that info away for when she got her cast taken off.

"How long has it been since you saw your father?"

"Three years."

The sun dropped below the surface and Ash pulled off her sunglasses. She put them in a space between them. Spencer had to admit grudgingly, that the brunette had some of the longest set of eyelashes she'd ever seen. They perfectly set off her bronze colored eyes. Or were they hazel?

Get a grip Spence, she told herself, unhappy about where her mind was going.

"He's a very busy man you know," Ash said.

She told herself she didn't need to hear any excuses, especially from some stranger who didn't know a thing about her and how her family operated.

Spencer looked out at the scenery on her side of the road. The landscape was more wild here. There were fewer buildings, but you could see things looked more populated ahead.

"I think he's going to be surprised."

He turned her attention back to her. "By what?"

"By you."

Her pulse beat double-time for a few seconds. The blonde didn't know if Ash was trying to be conversational or of if she'd been sizing her up. Was Ash making a general comment or paying her a complement. Ah the wonders of being a lesbian. She decided not to ask. It wasn't like they were going to see each other again after the brunette dropped her off. There was probably a gaggle of blonde bimbos in the brunettes near. . .

"This place. . . Where Arthur lives. . .? Her voice trailed off.

"Bakval," Ash restated the name.

"What kind of house is it?"

"It's a house kind."

"Gee, thanks for stating the obvious," Spencer said while glaring at the other woman. "What I meant was, is it secluded or in a neighborhood?"

"Oh its definitely in a neighborhood."

That was a plus she guessed. There was one question that was bugging her all along though and she decided just to ask it. "Does Arthur. . . does he live alone?"

Ash shot her a curious look.

"Look," Spencer started. "I'm going to be living here for two months and my mom just remarried to a guy and they're traveling to India, that's actually why I'm here and. . ."

"And you want to know if you're going to be a fifth wheel in your father's social life?" Ash answered.

"I won't be a fifth or sixth or twentieth wheel in anything. I just want to know if there is a girlfriend or some hot chick my dad has that's living with him."

"And you didn't think to ask him that before you came?"

"If you must know, communication is not the high on the list of the Carlin's qualities."

Ash nodded. "You don't seem to have any problem getting your point across to me."

"Look, are you going to tell me?" Spencer was getting irritated.

"There's no live in girlfriend."

"Hot babe?"

"Well, there is this one hot 20 year old girl that happens to rent out his guesthouse. It's across an enclosed garden courtyard area."

"Oh, well I highly doubt my dad would be interested in her. He goes for the older, wiser type."

"And the electricity in the kitchen in the guesthouse doesn't work so the person uses the kitchen in the main house," Ash said, ignoring the blondes last comment.

"Do you know her?"

"Yep"

"Young or old?"

"Young. I thought I just told you."

"Oh yeah. Well that won't be a problem."

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

"Do you ever watch the road?" Spencer asked, seeing that she was staring at her.

Ash shook he head in disbelief. But the blonde didn't miss the small smile pulling at the brunette's lips. The girl got more pretty all the time, she thought to herself. Unfortunately. Never mind her pulse doing double-time at the sight of Ashley practically leering at her body, now there was that weird fluttery action going on in the base of her stomach.

Ash turned right onto a tree-lined road. Behind the low walls, small houses lay nestled in shaded yards. Ash made another turn onto a similar road, a couple of hundred feet down, pulled the Jeep off the pavement onto a dirt patch between the road and a stucco wall.

"Here we go."

Spencer stayed in her seat for a minute, staring at the low, rambling villa. Beyond a road toppled with a fence, palm trees surrounding the house was visible. Lush, flowering shrubs were mixed into the landscaping. A gate led into the courtyard, and Spencer could see the top of what she assumed was the guesthouse to the right. There were no other cars near the house, indicating that Arthur wasn't home. She didn't expect him to be there anyway. He was probably out on some business meeting and wouldn't be back till late.

When she stepped out of the car, she forgot the Jeep was pretty high up and ended falling in the dirt on all four's. There was nothing like a graceful landing.

"What the hell! Are you okay?" Ash asked, rushing around to her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Nothing better than a dirt clad landing."

"Whatever," the brunette grumbled, not entirely convinced.

"Hey, do you know the name of the girl who lives in the guest house?"

Ash grabbed the luggage out the back and set it on the floor. "Yep. Her name is Ashley Davies."