A/N: Poor Spence, her head's all over the place! Wonder how she's dealing with this turn of events…

When her plane touched down in Cleveland, Spencer was the first one off the vehicle.

She usually didn't like to take advantage of her status as active duty military personnel, but getting to bypass the drudgery of waiting for people to claim their bags from the overhead compartments and shuffle their way off an airplane after a long flight was one of the exceptions to her rule.

Since she was only coming home for a few days, Spencer hadn't bothered to check a bag. Most of her casual clothes were still at her parents' house anyway. She moved purposely through the terminal toward the arrivals gate of the airport, trying to rub the fatigue out of her eyes.

Her redeye had landed at 4:45 AM and given all of the thoughts racing through her head from the night she'd had, Spencer hadn't been able to sleep a wink on the plane.

It all came back to Ashley Davies.

Spencer was finding it difficult to remember a time when her mind hadn't been wracked with thoughts about the insufferable, spoiled, snarky, mischievous, fierce, proud, fun-loving, beautiful, sensitive, incredible girl.

With a little distance from the situation, Spencer could now admit that she'd definitely been pissed off for the first few hours. She couldn't believe that Ashley had spoken to her like that after all they had been through – after that kiss! Did she really mean that little to Ashley?

What kind of terrible game had the First Daughter been playing with her heart? Spencer started to worry that the past few months all just been a ploy to steal her heart only to crumple it up and toss it away like a piece of trash.

Her mind and heart had been so heavy after the incident with Ashley that it had affected her performance on the rifle certification test.

Of course, having Carmen Sanchez of all people shooting over in the station next to her hadn't helped matters much either.

Fortunately, by the time she'd moved on to her favorite weapon, Spencer's mood had improved and so had her state of mind.

Half-way through the pistol certification series, Spencer finally realized that the reason why everything Ashley had said that night had been so difficult to believe was because it really was difficult to believe. Though her heart still stung at the words Ashley had said, Spencer's head reminded her that there was probably way more to the story than she could currently appreciated.

Because when all was said and done, the first and most important fact was that Ashley Davies had kissed her, not the other way around.

In fact, Spencer had been so surprised by the turn of events that she really hadn't even had a chance to kiss back before Ashley had pushed her away and started freaking out about her uniform (never mind what the heck that was about…)

There was a distinct possibility that Ashley might return Spencer's feelings.

Spencer was still angry that Ashley had pushed her away, and she knew that she still had some digging to do to get to the bottom of things, but the kiss had definitely meant something.

So maybe the evening hadn't been so bad after all.

In fact, she'd been in such a better mood by the end of the night that apparently she'd given Carmen Sanchez the impression that she might be interested in… anything with her again.

And why was Carmen interested in starting something with her again?

Sanchez had made it pretty clear four years ago that she was done with Spencer. After almost getting caught in that bar bathroom, things had cooled off between them quickly. Even a teenage Spencer had understood that maybe their time was over, but Carmen had been downright cold - cutting her loose like their summer hadn't meant anything to her.

The whole thing didn't sit well with Spencer. She couldn't figure out Carmen's angle, but if she had to guess, Spencer figured it had something to do with her new assignment. Maybe Carmen wanted to make some connections at the White House and saw Spencer's position as a way inside.

Who knew?

By the time Spencer's cab had dropped her off at Reagan International Airport, her mind had been back to Ashley. She couldn't stop thinking about ways to try to get her to open up about whatever was going on with her.

Ashley was her mission – both personally and professionally. She has hard to keep out of Spencer's head for long.

She was sitting at her gate, formulating a plan about possibly roping Kyla into helping her, when her thoughts were interrupted by a tug on her pant leg.

"Are you a soldier?" A tiny boy of three or four had suddenly appeared in front of her seat, staring up at her with big eyes.

"Umm…" It took a minute for Spencer to figure out what had attracted his attention before she realized that she had pulled her dog tags out of her civilian shirt and had been fiddling with them mindlessly as she waited for her flight to board. The tags, paired with her very distinctive standard issue military backpack had probably given her away.

Observant kid.

"Solider?" she asked playfully. "No way. I'm a Marine."

"What's that?" The boy asked, tugging on her pant leg again for emphasis, just in case her attention had strayed.

Spencer smiled and leaned forward to get down on his level. "A marine is like a soldier in the Army, but much tougher."

"Oh." The boy replied simply. "What's your name?"

"I'm Spencer," Spencer replied, "What's your name, and where are your parents?"

"I'm…"

"Brendon!" came an exasperated voice from down at the other end of the gate. A frazzled looking thirty-something woman was power walking in their direction, dragging along both a typical small black rolling suitcase and a smaller Thomas the Tank Engine themed one. "How many times have I told you not to run away from mommy? I could have lost you!"

She collapsed into the seat across from Spencer, gently pulling the boy towards her by the back of his sweatshirt.

She spared Spencer a quick smile. "I'm so sorry if he was bothering you. Brendon's a little flirt. He likes to meet new people."

Spencer laughed, "Oh, no problem at all. I like to meet new people too."

"That's Spencer," Brendon told his mother. "She's a marine."

Brendon's mother flicked over to take in Spencer's pack and her smile warmed.

"Well then, I know you've been in safe hands. Thank you for your service."

Spencer ducked her head. She never really knew how to respond when strangers thanked her for doing her duty, but it always made her sit up a little taller. She appreciated their thanks but at the same time she didn't think she was doing anything special – she was just doing what Carlins had been doing for over a hundred years - protecting and serving their country.

"Thank you, ma'am." Spencer returned politely.

"My husband is a Captain in the Army – he's a dentist stationed in Toledo at Camp Perry. Brendon and I were just here visiting family, but we're headed home to spend the holidays with him." She pulled the wiggly toddler into her lap.

"Mama, Spencer says marines are like the army but tougher!"

Spencer wanted to slap her palm against her forehead. "I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean anything…"

Brendon's mother only laughed. "No offense taken, I promise. Based on the stories my husband tells me about how the soldiers on his base react to a dental cleaning, I'm not going to argue with you there!"

They shared a quick laugh and chatted amiably for a few minutes before they were interrupted by the gate attendant announcing their flight.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to Midwestern Airlines Flight number eight hundred and forty four!" The man spoke with a theatrical flamboyance which, paired with his wispy red scarf and matching sweater vest, made him far too perky to be announcing a flight at eleven o'clock on a Wednesday night. "In just a few minutes we'll start boarding our first class passengers, so sit tight and make sure you have your tickets at the ready!"

Spencer turned back to Brendon's mother. "He's a bit much, isn't he?" She grinned. The airline had probably placed the animated man at the desk to try to cheer people up after their thirty minute delay.

"Oh I know," Brendon's mother leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. "I can't believe that the airline would hire someone like that to work where there are young impressionables around."

Spencer glanced over the attendant and then back to Brendon's mother. "Oh, that's not what I…"

"And honestly, what right does that man have to be parading around like that? I don't understand why homosexuals find the need to announce their…preferences. Wearing that scarf? He's just asking for trouble."

Somehow, after years of hearing tirades like that time and time again, Spencer still managed to be surprised about how ignorant and hateful people could be. She'd been chatting with this woman for a half hour now. She'd found her to be friendly and pleasant. How could a woman who spoke with such conviction about how her church group had just held a charity auction to raise money for their local homeless shelter then turn around and say something like that?

Didn't she know that 40% of homeless teens in shelters like that identified as LGBT and were probably there in the first place because they'd come out to a parent like her?

There were a lot of things that Spencer wanted to say to this woman, but now wasn't the time or the place.

"Well ma'am," she said, standing and shouldering her pack. "I respectfully disagree. Have a good flight."

With that she made her way over to stand closer to the gate. She didn't look back to see the woman's reaction and when their flight finally boarded, Spencer had been lucky to find herself at the opposite end of the plane from the mother and son duo.

The incident had been a reality check. It reminded her just why she'd been keeping her feelings from Ashley in the first place.

Ashley may have kissed her, and Spencer may have been seriously okay with being kissed, but Spencer was still a United States Marine Sergeant and Ashley Davies was still the First Daughter of a very conservative President Davies.

Spencer spent the duration of her flight alternating between softly banging her head against the window and reliving the sensation of Ashley's lips pressing against her own.

God - she lived a complicated, confusing, exhausting life.

It was because of this complication, confusion and exhaustion that Spencer nearly overlooked her own grandmother waiting for her at the arrivals gate a few hours later.

"Grandma!" she exclaimed in surprise, finding herself quickly enveloped in the warm, sweatered arms of her Grandma Carlin. "I didn't know you would be here to pick me up!"

"Oh sweetheart, it's so good to see you dear!" Even though her grandmother and namesake was about a foot shorter and 50 pounds lighter than Spencer, she never escaped the feeling that she was small and protected in her grandmother's arms.

Grandma Carlin took a step back, still maintaining her warm grip on Spencer's arms. "Well look at my little girl, more beautiful than ever!" She nudged Spencer's belly playfully. "A little skinny for my liking, though. Are they not feeding you up at that White House?"

Spencer laughed, wrapping an arm around her grandmother's shoulders and began leading them toward the exit. "Grandma, all I can say is that they've got nothing on your lasagna."

"Let's see, we've got eight days with you this time, yes?" Spencer nodded her assent. "Well that's twenty four meals I've got to put a little meat on your bones!" She gave the arm she had wrapped around Spencer's waist a little squeeze.

"Well, I think you're going to have to fight with Dad over rights to the kitchen. He's already promised to force-feed me Swedish meatballs. Speaking of Dad, not that I'm not happy to see you Grandma, but I thought he said he would be picking me up?"

They were at her grandmother's enormous Oldsmobile in no time.

"He was dear, but he got called in to work on one of his cases. Something about needing to come up with a new placement for a thirteen year old girl. He wants to make sure she gets settled into a new foster home before Christmas. Good man, that father of yours," Grandma Carlin informed her as they pulled out of the airport parking lot and onto the highway.

Spencer tried not to laugh out loud as her grandmother moved over into the left lane and proceeded to set her cruise control to 55 miles per hour.

"The very best." Spencer agreed with a grin.

"I was so happy when your mother brought him home to meet me and your grandpa. But oh, my Glen must have set the fear of God in the poor boy; Arthur was shaking like a leaf by the time he left to take Paula out on their date." Grandma Carlin chuckled to herself, completely ignorant of the constant whooshing of cars moving to pass them via the center lane.

"So when are you going to bring a nice girl home to meet your grandmother, dear?"

"Grandma!" Spencer couldn't contain her laugher this time.

"What, you can't blame an old woman for trying! I want to see great grandbabies before I die! And besides, I promised your mother that I would give my engagement ring to the first of you kids to propose. Your cousin Timothy is pretty serious with that girlfriend of his, but you and I know both know you're my favorite!" The old woman chuckled and tossed Spencer a wink.

After her mother, a teenaged Spencer had been most concerned about coming out to her Grandma Carlin. Spencer Matilda Carlin was a devoted Roman-Catholic and the undisputed matriarch of the Carlin clan. Spencer didn't know what she would have done if her grandmother hadn't accepted her.

But she had. Spencer had barely been able to get out the words, "I'm gay," through nervous tears when she had finally worked up the courage to tell her. Grandma Carlin had merely offered her a Kleenex and a hug, asking her why in the world she was crying. When Spencer admitted her fears about her reaction Grandma Carlin merely told her, "Spencer, I will never be upset with you for being true to who you are sweetie - never."

Looking back now that day seemed so long ago, but it still warmed her heart to think about. Spencer really did have the best, most supportive family a girl could ask for. For all of the challenges and struggles in her life, that part of her journey of self-discovery, at least, had been easy.

Spencer spared a glance out the window, noting that there were only a few minutes from home. "Grandma, you know I can't really date right now with rules the way they are in the military these days." Spencer reminded her gently.

"Pish," Grandma Carlin replied with a flap of her hand. "There must be some prospects at least for a nice, beautiful, successful girl like you! Even if you have to… how do they say it now? Even if you have to keep it on 'the low down'?"

Spencer blushed at how well her grandmother knew her. "There might be someone," she admitted, "But it's very, very complicated."

Grandma Carlin scoffed. "You sound like Clay! Young people these days - everything has to be complicated!"

"Well it really is Grandma!" Spencer tried not to whine. How was she supposed to explain this in a way that her grandmother would understand?

"Do you love this young woman?" Grandma Carlin asked as she flicked on her turn signal for their exit.

"Fiercely," was the first thought that came to Spencer's head. And wasn't that the truth? For an emotion that had crept up on her so quietly, there was really no doubt in her mind about how she felt.

"Well then," Grandma Carlin replied with a self-satisfied smirk. "It's not complicated at all."

"All right kiddo, that's the last of them." Spencer's father declared as he slammed the hatch of their SUV shut later that evening.

This was their tradition. Each year on the night before Christmas (if she was at home), Spencer and her father would collect heaping sacks of toys from the Marine Corps' Toys for Tots warehouse uptown and deliver them to foster homes across the city of Cleveland.

Spencer doubted that there were many things more heartwarming than the looks of joy and gratitude foster parents gave them when the Carlins stealthily delivered Christmas and Chanukah gifts for the children they cared for.

They had been doing this together since Spencer had learned that Santa Claus wasn't so much a fat jolly man who lived at the North Pole as he was a representation of the spirit of the giving and the holiday season. Glen and Clay each had their own nights out with Arthur, but the night before Christmas was always Spencer's.

"All right Mr. Claus, let's get a move on!" she called from the passenger seat as she pulled on her elf-ear hat.

Without fail, her father made the same joke that he made every year:

Before he turned the key in the ignition, he sang out, "On Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen!"

To which Spencer ruefully responded, "On Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen!"

The engine revved and they were off.

Arthur Greene-Carlin had been a foster child himself and had grown up in a system that he had vowed to make better. He was keeping that promise every day in his work through the Ohio Department of Children and Families, but he'd always liked to do a little something extra for the kid around the holidays.

Spencer never ceased to be amazed at the incredible, loving man that had come out of the difficult childhood her father had experienced. He didn't talk about it much, but Spencer knew his early life hadn't been easy.

If she hadn't been able to join the military, Spencer liked to imagine that she would have followed in his footsteps and become a social worker. On both sides of her family, protecting people was in her blood.

Thinking about her work as a bodyguard inevitably made Spencer think about Ashley, which put her right back into the funk that had been plaguing her all day.

She heaved a weary sigh and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window, watching the gentle snow that was falling outside.

"So what's eating you kiddo?" Her father finally asked after they had made the first of their deliveries.

"I'm just a little tired Dad, that's all. Glad to be home." Spencer replied with a quick grin.

"Have you been sleeping all right?" He asked. She knew that he was really asking about how she had been handing her PTSD and if she had been having any nightmares recently.

"Most nights, yes, actually. Except for that one freak out at the pool I told you about, I've actually been really good. That wasn't what kept me up last night though."

"Ah," her father replied with a grave murmur of understanding, poking fun of the fact that she had just completely dodged his question. "Then what's been keeping you up?"

"Loud thoughts," Spencer replied vaguely. She chuckled at the memory of this morning. "Grandma Carlin says my generation 'overcomplicates' everything."

Arthur took one hand off the steering wheel to give his daughter's hand a gentle squeeze, but otherwise took the hint and changed the subject. "You got a couple of pretty thick envelopes in the mail last week from the Marine Corps, kiddo."

Spencer looked out the window again. "That would probably be the application for the Officer's Training academy I sent for a few months ago."

"Ah," Arthur replied, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. "So I take it my little girl is going to be following in Grandpa Carlin's footsteps again then?" Spencer noticed how careful he was to always keep his tone neutral.

She knew how much he wished that his children would have chosen careers outside of the military, but he respected their decisions.

"I, uh…" Spencer hesitated. She was surprised with how long it was taking her to answer. "I guess I really don't know."

Arthur gave her a few moment of silence to say more if she wanted, then eventually replied. "Well that's quite the change in sentiment from when we last had this conversation."

"I know," Spencer agreed.

The last time she was home, Spencer had been talking over some ideas about her future with her father. At that point she had been trying to decide whether she would go to officer training school, or attend a four-year university and join an ROTC program instead before continuing her military career.

There had been no doubt in her mind at that time that she would make the military her career. Spencer recalled that she had been coming down off the high of carrying out a particularly difficult special security mission for when Vice President Hawthorne had visited the troops in Afghanistan on Thanksgiving that year.

Funny how President Davies never seemed to make that trip.

"Would it be out of line to ask what's changed since then?"

Spencer hesitated, but there was very little that she didn't tell her Dad in one form or another.

"What's changed, she finally admitted, "Is that I've sort of met someone."

She saw her father smile. "She must be someone special,"

Spencer snorted. "Oh, she's special all right - She gets under my skin in more ways than one."

Arthur laughed appreciatively. "How long have you been seeing one another?"

Spencer winced. "Well that's just it. We're not seeing each other – and that's really the root of the problem, anyway. It's her, but it's not just her – does that make any sense?"

"You want a relationship," her father deduced.

"I do," Spencer admitted, "She's really important to me, and my feelings are – I can't say I've ever felt this way before. But anyway, that's sort of all beside the point since I have no idea how she really feels about me, and I haven't exactly been forthcoming about how I feel with her. Believe it or not, her issues with being in the closet are probably bigger than mine. It's…"

"Complicated," her father finished for her, offering a reassuring smile.

"It is," Spencer resigned, "But even before things got complicated with…" Spencer quickly caught herself before she outed Ashley by naming her, "…this girl, I'd already been having second thoughts about re-enlisting. It's really more a matter of ever having a chance at a real relationship and a family of my own. I see how you and mom are, how grandma and grandpa were, and I want that, you know?"

Arthur nodded. "When you enlisted, you said that wouldn't be a problem - that your private life was your private life and that it didn't have to interfere with your job." Spencer knew he wasn't scolding her; he was just reminding her of what she had once told him.

"It's kind of a cliché, but it turns out you don't know as much about the world as you think you do at eighteen. I was wrong. I thought I was okay with putting my personal life second, and for a while, maybe I was, but it turns out I'm not. I love being a Marine, I love my job. But my straight colleagues can date who they want and marry who they want and hang picture of their wives and girlfriends above their bunk when we're overseas – is it so wrong to want the same thing?"

Arthur's hand reached out to rub the back of Spencer's neck lovingly.

"No sweetie, it's not too much to ask. I wish I had super powers and I could change things for you, but I can't. It kills me Spence, but I can't. Sometimes life isn't fair - progress creeps and retreats instead of marching forward. I don't have to tell you that sometimes as an adult you have to make difficult choices and sometimes it's not easy to see what's right for yourself."

"And what exactly is that Dad?" Spencer asked, wishing that for once her father would just make things easy for her. "What should I do?"

"Spencer, you know I can't decide that for you. But I'll tell you this: You could move to New Zealand and make your living herding sheep and I would be the happiest father alive if that made you happy. So that's all I'm going to say. Do what makes you happy – and know that I will always love you and there is nothing in this world that can change that."

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" Spencer asked, eyes glistening. She couldn't help but wish that Ashley had parents who loved and cared for her like Spencer's parents always had.

"You might have mentioned it once or twice, but I never get tired of hearing it kiddo." He ruffled her hair. "So tell me about this mystery woman."

Spencer winced, "I don't think I can Dad. She's pretty much the last person I should ever be thinking about."

"So she's someone from work then. That really is a whole lot of complicated in itself – no matter what your Grandma says - without the added pressures of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. How are you holding up?"

Spencer smiled. "Dad, I'm talking to you about the possibility of giving up the only dream I've ever had since I was a kid. What do you think?"

"I think she sounds pretty special."

"She is."

It turned out that spending the week at home was exactly what Spencer needed. She was very good at distracting herself with her work – especially when she was overseas – but being away from her family for so long had been difficult.

In the week between Christmas and New Year's Eve, Spencer had been able to cook with her father, go shopping with her mother, watch old movies with her grandmother, visit museums with Clay, shoot some hoops with Glen, and even catch up with younger cousins that she hadn't seen since she enlisted four years ago.

There really was no place like home – but that didn't stop Spencer from checking her phone every twenty minutes in the hopes of hearing something – anything – from Ashley. She knew it was a ridiculous notion – they'd never texted or talked on the phone before. But then again, there had never been a need to, what with them spending nearly every waking moment together for the past five months.

Unfortunately, even with all of the phone checking and mental obsessing-and-second-guessing Spencer had been doing all week, in the end she still wasn't quite prepared for the way she finally heard something from Ashley on the morning of New Year's Eve.

Actually, heard of something about Ashley was really more accurate.

Spencer had been sitting in her living room reading a biography of Mary Edwards Walker that her grandmother had recommended to her when the sound of Glen talking to himself started to pierce though her focus. It was annoying – especially when she only had two days of vacation left to finish her book.

"Damn, sis, she really is smokin' hot, isn't she?"

"Sure Glen," Spencer replied absentmindedly as she turned a page. Over the years she had made an art of humoring his outbursts without actually having to pay attention to what her older brother was saying.

"I mean damn! Too bad Davies is officially taken now – you might be in the bodyguard zone, but I definitely would have at least tried to tap that."

Spencer was over in the next room before her hastily tossed aside book even hit the floor.

"What?"

Glen was sprawled out on their family couch, munching on popcorn and oddly enough watching the news. Sure, it was trashy entertainment news, but it was news none-the-less.

News about Ashley Davies.

"Turn it up." Spencer demanded, refusing to let her eyes leave the screen.

"Yes that's right gentleman," Mario Lopez was telling the camera, "Looks like we all missed our chance. First daughter Ashley Davies is officially off the market. We have reports from sources close to the First Family that freshman Congressman Ethan Rayne finally popped the question this afternoon while the couple was taking a jaunt around the National Mall." Across the screen, as series of paparazzi photos showed Ashley walking hand-in-hand with Ethan, then Ethan getting down on one knee in front of the Capital Building.

"Davies and Rayne have been seeing each other for over a year now, but it looks like they are finally ready to tie the knot. I don't know about you folks out there, but I'm looking forward to showing the Brits how to do a royal wedding – American style!"

"So," Glen asked, shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth, "You think you can get us invites to the wedding? We're practically family with the Davies now."

Spencer could not tear her eyes away from the photos on the television screen.

"God, I bet the Davies could get someone big like the Rolling Stones to play at the reception, how sick would that be?" Glen went on.

"Spence, is her little sister still single? You think I'd have a shot there?"

"…Spencer?"

Ashley Davies was having a hellish New Year's Eve. Everywhere she turned, there was someone asking her to see the ring, or to tell them for the millionth time just how Ethan had proposed, or even what kind of flowers she was planning for the center pieces at the wedding.

There was not enough alcohol in all the world for that.

Christine was hosting her yearly exclusive New Year's Eve cocktail in the White House ballroom, practically gushing over all the attention and good press the engagement had brought her.

Kyla, on the other hand, would not stop throwing Ashley these pitying looks, like she was a puppy someone had kicked.

Not that Ashley felt too far off from that.

The only saving grace for the evening was that after the morning's "magical" and completely "surprising" engagement, Ethan had jetted off to Southern Virginia to spend the holiday at a fundraiser for a colleague.

As bad as it was to have to see the enormous diamond sitting on her left ring finger every time she moved her hand (she ruefully wondered what exactly the size of the gem was compensating for), it would have been far worse to have to see Ethan's haughty-ass face every time she tried to breathe.

She was four cocktails and three hundred painfully fake smiles into the night before someone finally bothered to see if she was okay.

"Are you… all right Ms Davies?"

A black-suited figured sidled out of her peripheral view and into focus when Ashley was finally left alone for the first time that night.

It was Aiden Dennison, the secret service agent who had taken Spencer's place in guarding her for the past week.

The thought of Spencer – of what she had said and done to her – only succeeded in making Ashley feel even worse.

"Peachy," Ashley replied wearily into her drink. "Just freaking peachy."

She wondered if Spencer had heard the news of her engagement yet. Kyla had said that photos of the proposal had been leaked all over the major networks. Ashley wondered if Spencer thought she was as much of a sell-out as Ashley felt right now.

That thought was only slightly more pleasant than wondering whether or not Spencer was even going to come back from her vacation – which is what had been eating at Ashley all week. And really, why would she? No one ever wanted to stay around Ashley for longer than they were forced to.

Spencer would probably rather be in Afghanistan any day than be stuck here with the freak who kissed her and then treated her like trash anyway.

"Are you sure Ms. Davies?" Aiden was still there next to her. Ashley noticed him glance over to where Kyla was sitting chatting with the ambassador from South Korea. "You don't look well, perhaps you'd like to retire for the evening?" he pressed.

Ashley snorted into her drink. "Little sister put you up to this, didn't she?"

Aiden at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Your sister just thought that maybe you'd had enough excitement for one day."

"That's one way of putting it," Ashley sighed. It was only 11:30 – Christine wouldn't be happy if she bowed out now. From the other side of the room, she saw Kyla flash her the kicked-puppy-pity look again.

Maybe she had had enough for one night.

"All right, what the hell? Get me the hell out of this place Dennison."

Ashley had just managed to change out of her gown and turn on Dick Clark's Rocking New Year's Eve when there was a knock on her door.

It was probably Christine, demanding to know why she wasn't gearing up to clink champagne glasses with all the hobnobbers at midnight.

Ashley considered ignoring it, but something convinced her to trudge over and open the door anyway.

"What?" she snapped.

There, standing before her was Spencer Carlin.

The marine was no longer sharply dressed in her military uniform, but instead looked slightly frazzled and not quite sure what she was doing standing at Ashley's door.

"I looked for you downstairs, but I couldn't find you," Carlin said, as if that explained her return to the White House two days early.

Ashley couldn't help but notice how the marine's gaze flicked down to Ashley's left hand. Ashley shoved it into her pocket, reflexively trying to hide what had clearly already been seen.

Ashley shrugged, not really sure what to say. "I've got smallpox. You'd better stay back."

But instead of staying back, this time it was Spencer who pushed her way into Ashley's apartment uninvited. She closed the door carefully before turning back to Ashley with a little half-smile.

"Small pox has been eradicated for over thirty years. Plus I've vaccinated – essential military personnel, and all. I think I'll risk it."

Ashley felt herself give a little half-smile in return. It was the most normal she had felt in over a week. The muscles of her face almost didn't remember how to make the expression.

"What are you doing here Carlin?" Ashley felt suddenly self-conscious, not really sure why she had asked that question when she couldn't know what the answer would be. She hugged her arms across her chest, feeling a little exposed in just her sweatpants and tank top with Spencer standing there in front of her, looking all… Spencer.

"You are a difficult person to work with, Ms. Davies," Spencer finally began, taking a step closer to where Ashley was standing. She was carrying herself with a kind of intensity that made the hairs on the back of Ashley's neck stand on end.

"Yeah, well look who's talking!" Ashley retorted, taking two steps backwards and wincing at how defensive she sounded. She didn't have a right to be defensive.

"Why are you here?" Ashley asked again, this time more quietly.

Spencer closed the distance between them again. "Ashley, stop running away. I need to talk to you." The marine reached out and gently captured Ashley's waist before she could get too far, turning her around to face her fully.

Behind them, Ashley could hear the television hosts starting to count down to the New Year, "Ten, nine, eight…"

Ashley glared at her, trying to regain some of – any of – her resolve.

"Well, what if I don't want to talk?" It was getting difficult to keep up her façade of not caring when all she could think about was how warm she felt whenever Spencer was near. Like her heart beat just a little more forcefully for her.

"That is well within your rights Ms. Davies" The marine replied agreeably even as she pulled Ashley a little closer anyway.

"Okay," Ashley whispered, suddenly struggling to breathe. "Then I don't want to talk."

"Five…four…three…"

Spencer stared at her hard. In an instant, Ashley watched as the marine seemed to make up her mind about something.

"Okay," The marine replied.

And then Spencer was leaning in.

And then Spencer was kissing her.

Behind them, fireworks were going off on the television and Auld Lang Syne was blasting through the speakers. Spencer wrapped her arms around Ashley's back, pulling their bodies flush against one another, kissing her like Ashley was everything.

A/N: Happy New Year! Although you guys do know that it can't end that easy, right? We've got a ways to go people!