A/N: Oh my god. Schools been a b!tch, sorry for the long wait but, finally, here is all of chapter 18. Chapter 19 should be up really later today or early tomorrow; it's relatively short. So, look for it.

Thank you guys so much for all the reviews for chapter 17!

Bon' Apetite...

Oh, and if they're any errors, sorry in advance...

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Spencer sent a nervous glance at her friend as the thin woman who was her masseuse waited for her to go inside first.

"You'll love it," Mac assured Spencer, giving her a big smile.

The room was small, maybe six by eight. The lights had been dimmed. Soft music played in the background. A high narrow table, padded and covered with layers of white sheets and towels, sat in the middle. There was a dish on top of a plug-in burner in a corner, filling the air with a pleasant scent that she couldn't identify. She also saw a number of bottles of oils and creams on the same table that held the burner.

Her name was Kyrenia. They'd been first introduced outside when Spencer and Mac had arrived. She spoke English with an accent, and had a very pleasant smile.

"Okay. Everything off. Lie under the towel, facing up."

"Everything?" Spencer asked, growing uncomfortable.

Kyrenia nodded. "I wait outside."

"Because you know, I have a girl-," the door was closed in her face.

There was no room for argument and the clock was ticking. Spencer slipped out of her sundress and underwear and threw them on a chair. Naturally, the hem of her dress caught one of the bottles on the table, and she nearly dove to catch it. Losing her balance, she bumped the table hard and half a dozen bottles fell over and started rolling toward the edge.

In seconds, she had a juggling act going. She caught two, but the rest fell to the floor. Thankfully, none of them broke.

Spencer was till putting the bottles back on the table when she heard a knock on the door.

"Five seconds," she pleaded, replacing the last bottle.

As she tried to get under the towel, her cast banged the leg of the table so hard it sounded like a gong. She was still struggling with the towel when Kyrenia walked back in.

Five seconds obviously meant five seconds.

The masseuse dimmed the lights a little more. The volume of the music went up slightly. She walked over to the corner where the oils and creams were. If she noticed, she didn't say anything about Spencer's rearranging job.

"Relax, honey," the woman whispered, picking up one of the bottles.

Easier said than done. Spencer noticed the door was very flimsy and there were no locks. What is someone decided to come in? She couldn't see what Kyrenia was doing, and that was nerve-racking too. She felt too exposed. If only Ash could get a load of this. She suddenly imaged Ash walking into the room while this exotic Aruban native massaged soothing oils on her back.

Just as she was about to call the whole thing off, Kyrenia's hands appeared before her face, her palms over her nose.

"Breathe."

She followed the direction and took a deep breath. Whatever was on the masseuse's hands smelt wonderful. Spencer took another breath and then another. In all of thirty seconds, she was beginning to feel very relaxed.

Whatever this is, Spencer thought, it can't be legal.

Kyenia went to work. There was no talking. Only the music and the scents and the feel of warm oil being massaged onto her face by competent hands. Spencer lost track of time. Her shoulders and arms were next and then she had to roll over and her back became the target of the masseuse's hands.

By the time Kyrenia reached her legs, Spencer felt like a total rag doll. Somewhere in the back of her brain, it suddenly sank in why many people got weekly massages: to relax. Somewhere along the massage, she started picturing Ash's hands rubbing all over her body. The massaged then led to some very other intimate activities. A breathed Ash escaped her lips and the masseuse looked at her quickly, but continued with the massage.

Outside of her room, Mac and Spencer met for a minute before they went of to their next stop on their spa tour.

"I'm only getting a manicure," Spencer told her friend. "The pedicure will have to wait until this leg comes out for the cast."

"How many days left?"

"Six," she said with a sigh.

"Well, have fun with the manicure. I'll probably still be with the hairdresser when you finish. Come and see me there."

Spencer felt a lot les trepidation in getting her nails done. It wasn't something she did regularly , but it wasn't a total foreign experience. Plus, she didn't have to go naked for it. She recalled the last time she'd had her nails done. It was the week before the prom.

Well, here's to new beginnings, she thought.

Forty minutes later, she joined her friend in the salon. Mac was still under the hand of the stylist, and Spencer smiled at the face she made at her. Mac waved her closer.

"Watch what you say," she whispered as soon as Spencer was close enough to hear her.

Spencer looked around and saw what Mac was referring to: The Lizards. Kate was getting wrapped in foils for highlights, and Ellie was getting her hair blow-dried. Liz and Beth were waiting in chairs.

She turned her back to them and watched what the stylist was doing to Mac.

"Can you believe it? She cut my hair even shorter!"

"You look beautiful," Spencer said in earnest, seeing for the first time what was done. Her hair was shorter, accentuating Mac's curls. She always had a soft spot for short-hair women(especially lesbians). "This looks so gorgeous on you. It'll be so much easier to pick out the perfect dress, too. You should wear something that shows lots of cleavage."

"We'd better find a dress that comes with it."

"Come on, you have plenty," Spencer said positively.

"Sounds like the girl is speaking from first-hand experience," one of the Lizards said, drawing snickers from the other three.

Spencer turned around and looked at the amused looks at the four girls faces. "So, the lizards do come in out of the sun."

"You should be careful," Kate said. "Once you get your roots colored, someone could actually accuse you of being a natural blonde."

Was she calling Spencer a fake? Well, the gloves were off then, and Spencer started to respond.

Kate had to ruin it though, by suddenly smiling at her. "We were just teasing. You two started the name calling, you know.

"You're right," Spencer said, pasting a fake smile on her face. "And what's a little teasing between friends?"

"Exactly." Kate looked at her nails. "By the way, were you able to pas o my message to Ash?"

"Of course. Didn't she call you?" Spencer tried to sound shocked.

Kate lowered her chin, hiding the upper half of her face. "She probably did. I haven't been home much lately to check my messages."

Total denial, Spencer thought. Enjoy it.

"So, are you two coming to the party?"

Spencer met Mackenzie's gaze in the mirror. She gave her an encouraging wink. "We might poke out heads in. Can we bring our dates?"

No answer. Spence figured it was because Kate was under the massive Hair dryer.

"Can we bring our guests?" she repeated.

"Oh. Absolutely."

"Great."

Thankfully, the hairdresser was just finishing up with Mackenzie, and within fifteen minutes, the two friends were on the road to Oranjestad for lunch and dress shopping.

"So, you're going to the party," Mac said happily.

"Not only am I going. Ash is coming as my date."

"That's fabulous," Mackenzie said with enthusiasm. I knew you two would end up with each other."

There was no denying it. Not to Mac. She'd been so open with her feelings toward Aiden.

"I'm crazy about Ash. But at the same time. . . I'm scared shitless."

"That's what love is all about." Her eyes flitting from the road to Spencer, and back again.

"I don't think this s about love. I think this is more about me being a Carlin I mean. . ."

She paused to gather her thoughts. " I mean, come from a broken marriage. . . And in a way, I know I'm to blame."

"That's absurd. All kids think divorce is their fault, when it really isn't."

"Seriously," Spencer continued. "I don't think they were ready to be parents when they had me. When I was little, they insisted I call them by their first names."

"That's why you call your father 'Arthur'?"

Spencer nodded. "It wasn't until this past year, when Paula started getting serious with

Ben, that maybe being called a mother would her a more authorities figure over me. So then it was 'Mom'. I mean, come on!" She shook hr head in frustration. "They're a total mess. I'm a total mess."

"No, you're not," Mac scolded her. "Lord, I wish I had a tape recorder so you could her yourself talk. You sound just like I sounded a couple of days ago."

Spencer glanced at her friend. "You're not like that anymore?"

She shook her head from side to side. "Definitely not. I'm a new woman, and I'm determined to let all the pampering do some good."

"Okay," Spence said. "Then, I'm with you."

They both laughed.

"You know," Mac said after a moments silence. "I think we should come up with a nickname for you."

"I've tried before. But you cant really shorten the name 'Spencer'. Once I tried the name. . ." Spencer was going to say more, but the words left her tongue. She stared at some men standing near a black limo on the street they wee passing.

"Stop," she said as they passed the corner. "Stop here."

Mackenzie veered to the right, cutting another car off and almost causing an accident. She pulled onto the gravel shoulder of the road and slammed on the brakes.

"What's wrong?"

"I saw Arthur." Spencer pushed the door open and got out. She didn't bother with the crutches and started hurrying as fast as her leg would allow her to go. It seemed to take forever, but within a minute, she was standing at the corner, peering around the edge of a building.

The street was empty. The car was gone. She'd seen her father. She was absolutely sure it was him. Worse, he was talking to one of the men who'd been sitting with Lorenzo yesterday at the restaurant. Two bodyguards were there, too. One of them was holding the door of the limo open, while Arthur got in with them.

A couple of seconds later, Mackenzie came roaring up in reverse against the oncoming traffic. She slammed on the brakes at the corner. She rolled down the window.

"Spencer, what's going on?"

Her father was getting into a car with drug dealers. Great. How do you say that to your friend?

"I wish I knew."

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A/N: Please review. . . for the love of God! Or for the love of the story, either one. smileys