South of Nowhere Fanfiction

southof_fic @ 2008-10-07T11:50:00

2008-10-07T15:53:45Z

Title: Poodles & Pit-bulls
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Pairing: Spencer/Ashley
Rating: M
Words: 2,993
Excerpt: “I can maybe squeeze you in.” She teases with a shrug in contradiction to the overriding excitement, evident only by the traitorous smile that subconsciously fights it’s it way onto her mouth.

December, 2009

Spencer Carlin reads the frosted glass door of the corner office, where the now respected journalist sat taking in the view of downtown Los Angeles while sipping tranquilly at her luke warm coffee. It was paradoxical really, the way she preferred a caffeinated drink when taking a minute of calmness in her already wired profession.

She had come a long way since her amateur performance at the 2008 Grammy’s. She’d proven herself time and time again. Getting promoted, having people call her by her name rather than “Stacie” or her personal favorite, “the new girl”. She’d even managed to become one of Vanguards go-to people. And now… this office.

She hadn’t however managed to forget the certain someone who helped kick start her career with a generous interview that night.

She couldn’t really, even if she tried.

She was reminded of her anytime she walked past a newsstand, or stood in line at the grocery register, even more so when her face graced the cover of the Vanity Fair magazine print sitting on her desk.

Ashley Davies was hotter than the Jonas Brothers at a celibacy seminar. Regularly rumored to be dating young Hollywood’s finest, Notorious for her dislike of the paparazzi, and synonymous with keeping her private life private.

“I have Mrs. Vanguard on line one miss Roberts.” alerts her energetic assistant through the telephone intercom.

“Thank you Freddy.” Says Spencer, listening as her assistant taps a rushed beat onto his desk before switching to line one. “Spencer Carlin speaking…”

“Carlin, how do like the new office?…Wonderful…” she continues before Spencer can respond.

Not everything’s changed.

“…Anyways I’m sure you’ve received next month’s cover, and I want you to interview Ashley Davies in depth. She returns from her European tour on Friday, ands she’s agreed to meet up at her place in Malibu. You’ll be spending a few days visiting, documenting an inside perspective of a week in the life of Ashley Davies.”

Her heart begins to pound erratically, palms dampen, and a ruthless swarm of butterflies seem to seek refuge in her stomach. And she’s certain Ashley produces the same effect on ninety eight percent of the thirteen to twenty six year old demographic, but not for the same reasons as she.

She’s pictured this day in her head for over a year now, thinking of what she would say, foolishly wondering if she would remember her.

For 15 month’s now Spencer has replayed their conversation in her head every night before bed, as routine as the nightly prayer any other might say before sleep. Her own personal, silent plea to fate. Getting the best sleep on the nights in which Ashley crept her way into the journalist’s all too realistic dreams.

“Carlin…Are you still there?” asks Christina, tearing her from the web of thoughts spinning round her head.

Clearing the cob webs, “Yes…I’m here.”

“Don’t let me down Carlin.” Christina says before the phone line clicks dead.
-------------------
The following Friday. Malibu. Ashley Davies Beach house.

“Who is it?” A muffled voice asks opposite the large steel doors before the jingle of nearing footsteps amplifies in approach.

Audibly swallowing the lump in her throat,

“It’s Spencer Carlin… the interviewer from vanity fair.” she finishes, shaking her head in self deprecating embarrassment. As if she’d know who I was by name thought Spencer.

Frozen in place while holding a now stationary toothbrush in her mouth, Ashley mumbles a lyrical, “Ow ma gawd.”

Unsuspectingly voicing Spencer’s own thoughts when the steel door swung open, revealing a very surprised, exceptionally unprepared. Barefoot Ashley, standing clad in a an old Rolling Stones tee cut at the midriff, and form fitting boy shorts that left little to the imagination.

“Um…You…you have a little paste there.” says Spencer uneasily, pointing beside the shiny black lip ring, towards the corner of her minty mouth.

Hoping she can’t hear the drum solo her pounding heart plays, while she reminds herself, and instantly forgets to look away from the exposed abdomen before her and the toned body camouflaged with a smooth tan.

Ashley casually swipes the back of her free hand across her mouth with toothbrush still in hand, while holding the metal door open with the other. Looking back at Spencer’s shifting eyes with her wide ones.

“Come in.” She says breaking the piercing silence they stood uncomfortably in before she gives enough space for Spencer to enter passed her. But not enough to miss the scent of her body wash.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed…so I’m going to go change.” says Ashley taking a few backward steps towards her bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable.” She tells, watching as Spencer struggles to mask a small smirk after she ineptly trips over an abandoned shoe in the process.

Ashley sprints towards the connecting bathroom to rinse off her mouth and stinging lips, rushing to slip on a black tank top and jeans after fussing with still wet hair.

Giving one last glance at her reflection before shrugging, she heads towards the living room,

Towards Spencer Carlin, mentally scolding herself over lost time.

She allows herself to take in her presence from the distance. Watching the way she toys with the video camera up top her lap as she sits on the large suede couch, glancing around her house in interest, Reminding her of their first meet.

“Sorry about earlier, I guess I’m still a little jet lag and running on a different time zone.” Ashley justifies before sitting on the smaller couch across from her.

“It’s fine, really.” she reassures with a light blush Ashley feels she will never tire of supplying.

Unfortunately she is unable to bask in it for long, when the tall brunette emerging from the guest bedroom in a dark blue teddy and matching thong settles herself onto Ashley’s lap and runs a hand through her wild curls.

“Hey Ash.” She greets with a flirtatious smile before shifting to straddle her waist suggestively.

Under very different circumstances… to any other rock star, this may seem a favorable position to be found in.

But to Ashley… with Spencer Carlin in her presence, this felt not only inopportune, but completely dissatisfying.

Pulling away from inappropriately wandering hands, she grips her shoulders to place the insistent girl onto her own feet, ignoring the confused frown on her face.

“Aiden!..” Ashley yells out in annoyance to her temporary roommate and bassist.

“Yeah?” calls the tall, built brunette cautiously.

“Did you forget to take out the trash again?” she tells him indicatively in reference to the oblivious brunette before her.

“Sorry.” He says quickly reaching to pull her back towards the confines of his room, nodding in greeting towards Spencer before smiling apologetically at Ashley.

“You’re buying new sheets!” she shouts before briefly witnessing in satisfaction the way Spencer scowls at the giggling brunette blowing a kiss in her direction.

“Is that a regular occurrence at the Davies manner?” Spencer inquires, placing the video camera beside her on the center table.

“Surprisingly, no.” Ashley tells her, noticing the way she uncomfortably rearranges the wrinkles of the white, button down blouse tucked firmly inside the black knee high skirt she wears professionally.

“No?” she questions with an unbelieving look and smirk, urging Ashley to chuckle lightly before responding.

“Contrary to popular belief… I don’t like to bring my work home with me. And that…” she says motioning towards the bedroom “That’s all work.” she finishes, receiving a sincere smile and approving head nod.
-------------------

“That was insane.” Concludes Spencer when they return to the beach house after a small show at the Roxy, a personal favor for a friend hoping to surprise his fiancée on her birthday.

“What?...That was nothing. You should come out on tour with me, playing sold out arenas in front of thousands of hyped fans, now that is crazy.” Explains Ashley while reaching for a much appreciated bottle of water.

“That would be nice.” Spencer reveals with a shy smile before casually hoping onto the kitchen counter behind her.

It’s been a week since they first began the interview process, and were way past etiquette and onto friendly banter and easy conversation. Particularly after filming stops.

Removing the damp t-shirt she wore clingingly against flushed skin as she makes her way to the bathroom,

“I’m going to take a quick shower…”

No need for modesty, she’d seen more the second time they met.

“…Why don’t you go choosing the movie.” Ashley suggest, looking back at her still on the kitchen counter with swinging feet where she nods in silent agreement.
--------------------

“So I know this was our last day of the interview and all…but you maybe want to hang out tomorrow? As friends.” Tries Ashley tentatively when they stand outside the dim lit porch, after their second movie of the night.

“I can maybe squeeze you in.” She teases with a shrug in contradiction to the overriding excitement, evident only by the traitorous smile that subconsciously fights it’s it way onto her mouth.

“Oh I see how it is…you only want me for your professional benefit. I feel so cheap.” Ashley reciprocates with wide eyes teasingly.

“It’s not that, it’s just…I don’t really make for a good groupie.” She counters with a grin.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Ashley says.

To which Spencer smiles big at, before leaning in to give a quick kiss onto her cheek and saying,

“See you tomorrow.”
------------------

The following morning, Downtown L.A, Vanity Fair offices

“Hey Spence, Ready to go?” questions Madison as she peeks her head into the quiet office.

“Sorry Mad’s, I’m going to work through lunch today…” She tells holding up a half chewed sandwich “…I’m trying to get out on time today.”

“Hot date?” Madison asks stealing a sip of the iced tea after taking a seat across from the busy blond.

“Not exactly.”

You see, she really had no idea what tonight was. It felt like a date, but she wasn’t naïve enough to overlook that it could just be wishful thinking on her part.

“Who’s the mark?”

“Ashley.” She informs, watching the way a sneaky grin spreads across her friends face.

“I so knew there was something there the first time you met…Didn’t I tell you so?”

She did.

“You did.” Is admitted before the chief editor steps into the office and Madison sneaks a funny face behind her back, just as she rises to leave the suddenly tense office.
“How can I help you Mrs. Vanguard?”

“I hear you have plans with Ashley Davies tonight…” Spencer is convinced she really is going to have to search this office for microphones. “…The documentary and interview were very good, but I want you to take this opportunity to dig deeper into the enigma that is Ashley Davies.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Vanguard but tonight I’m off duty. It’s not a work meet.”

“And that’s fine, but use this opportunity. Do this and you’ll get your monthly spread on the topic of your choice.” She bargains knowing Spencer’s been asking for a shot at this for some time now.

“My choice?” She asks in needed conformation.

“Your choice.” Vanguard responds gifting a short list of questions regarding Ashley’s love life, and relationship with her father, former 70’s rock star Raife Davies who past a few years ago.

“These are all personal questions. They have nothing to do with her music… there’s no way she’s going to answer these.” Spencer explains defensively.

She was no longer Ashley Davies, the job.

She was Ash, the care free musician she’d quickly befriended and spent the most joyous week of her life with.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” she says suggestively, closing the heavy office door behind her.
--------------------

“It’s open.” Spencer hears her yell seconds after ringing the door bell.

“Hey.” She greets from the door where she hangs her coat and handbag. “What’s this?” She ask when entering the busy kitchen in which Ashley stands before the cook top, smiling back at her as she turns the fire down.

“I’m making us dinner.” She says proudly.

“You made Mac-N-cheese.” Is voiced in amusement while removing the metallic lid from the pot.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” she defends pulling the lid back and shoving the blond away when she laughs at her culinary skills. “You look nice.” Ashley compliments, disregarding her company’s current amusement, and playfully condescending tone.

She looks nice too, ponders Spencer.

Comfortable…in her flannel quicksilver, long sleeve shirt, and Skinny black jeans, but still undeniably attractive.

“Thanks…I came straight from the office. My feet are killing me.”

“So get rid of the shoes.” She instructs while carrying two plates to the set dining table.

“So… I have a question to ask you.” Spencer tells her before taking a sip of her drink.

“Of course you do.” She says wiping a napkin across her smiling mouth.

“Why did you punch that paparazzi outside of the viper room last year?

“I think you mean why did I allegedly punch him…There’s was no evidence that I actually hit the prick.” She corrects before continuing. “And my attorney advises that I don’t speak of the incident so…”

“Fair enough… tell me about your relationship with your father.” The journalist in her probes mercilessly, disregarding the sensitivity of the subject.

“Look Spencer, I didn’t ask you to dinner tonight for an interview…” She says clearly agitated with the questioning she is forced to sit through. “I was hoping we could just have a normal conversation and dinner. Like any other friends.”

“Your right. I’m sorry.” She apologizes while endeavoring to salvage the rest of this evening.
--------------------

“Shut up and drink your Caprison.” Spencer says after Ashley lightly teased her about her singing at the piano, where Ashley played random melodies. “You’re like the saddest rock star ever… sipping at your fruity drink from a tiny straw.”

Her only response is the exaggerated slurping sound of her sipping. Too which the blond rolls her eyes at playfully.

“So I have to ask…completely off the record.” Spencer defends with hands held out in
surrender. “Did you really hook up with Aiden?”

“Why?...Are you jealous?” She diverts in true Ashley fashion with a smirk.

“Should I be?” she surprises in sudden, previously un-witnessed bravado that is rewarded with an honest response.

“Aiden and I are just good friends.”

“What about Elisha Cuthbert?” She pushes in uncontrollable curiosity.

“She’s a better friend.” Ashley responds, letting Spencer’s imagination run wild with possibility and intrigue. Enjoying the way she smiles while shaking her head in hilarity.

“Figures.”

“O.K. I got a question.” Ashley informs her, watching the way she stills and nods for her to continue. “…Do you know how many Stacie Carlin’s there are in the Los Angeles area?”

Scrunching her eyebrows up in thought and maybe even a little confusion, “Enlighten me.”

“19… Or at least that’s how many are listed in the White pages.”

“O.K., how do you even know this? And more importantly…” She asks still wearing the above mentioned look of confusion. “…Why?”

“I have something I need to confess…” Ashley says in unusual nervousness as she looks to Spencer beside her.

“What’s that?”

“I kinda, maybe, looked you up after the first time we met… At the Grammys.” She clarifies unnecessarily.

“I remember.” Spencer says quickly before smiling shyly at her outburst. “So…Why did you do that?” she asks looking down at the fingers she crosses and uncrosses above her lap.

“I may have had a little crush on you.” Ashley admits with a sigh. “But I’m clearly over it.” She disregards jokingly.

“I may have had a little crush on you too.” Spencer admits with an adorable smile and head tilt. “…but that was before I knew you.” she fixes with a shrug.

“Me too… I don’t even like you.” Ashley says softly while nearing closer to Spencer’s parted lips.

“Obviously.” She whispers sliding closer. Till the point where she can feel the brunettes warm breathe against her own.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

A fair warning amidst a quick swipe of her tongue onto dry lips, before Ashley closes the minimal distance between the two.

Softly pressing there lips together, accommodating to the feel before growing restless.

They couldn’t tell who was the first to break, whose hand pulled at the others neck first. Which kiss swollen mouth did the soft moan flee from when a slick tongue slipped past panting lips. Pulling apart only when the burning in their lungs becomes intolerable.

Spencer, still unsatisfied and in desperate need to taste the fruity mixture on Ashley’s tongue, with an unquenchable thirst, begins to spread blind kisses onto the corners of her gasping mouth, heated neck, and closed eyes while pushing forward until she rest flat above Ashley on the shiny black piano bench.

“You have way too much clothes on.” grunts Ashley against smiling lips that quickly gasp when she wraps an arm tightly around her waist and she’s easily lifted and pressed unto the Baby Grand piano, with a reverberating sound of inadvertently pressed keys that disguises a soft whimper.

Spencer’s shaking fingers begin to pull at the buttons of her shirt, stopping mid way when Ashley lifts her arms in effort to remove her constricting top, before she can complete the task at hand and traps Ashley’s arms with the un-cooperating shirt tangled at her shoulders.

Lunging forward onto frustrated lips that entertain her long enough for Ashley to pull free. Urging her to let her head drop back when soft fingertips brush against bare inner thighs that involuntarily spread to allow Ashley’s frame to slip between.

“Bedroom?” Whispers Ashley with a throaty voice before nipping at her earlobe, with her hands still gripping at the back of Spencer’s quivering thighs.

“Bedroom.” Echoes Spencer in approval, nodding against Ashley’s forehead with shut eyes, her suddenly heavy arms resting at the waist band of Ashley’s jeans where eager fingers dig partially.

To be continued…

southof_fic @ 2008-09-30T20:36:00

2008-10-01T00:38:26Z

Title: Poodles & Pit-bulls
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Pairing: Spencer/Ashley
Rating: PG
Words: 1,607
Excerpt: Her mind is set, and the captivating blonde might as well wear a bleeping target above her golden tresses.

September, 2008

The unrelenting sounds of ringing telephones, beeping printers notifying of paper feed errors, and shuffling paperwork fall mute to the sound of editor in chief, Christina Vanguard’s, Manolo Blahnik’s clattering against marble floors through the busy corridor.
Skillfully barking orders through her blue tooth in addition to micromanaging her fourth assistant since spring issue, while clutching her Starbucks latte in one hand and the latest magazine spread in the other.

All in all it was a typical day at the offices of Vanity Fair.

“O.k. people…What do you have for me?” She asks removing her Christian Dior shades, resting her hands up top her waist after entering the buzzing conference room, while her frantic assistant struggles to remove her overcoat and hand bag in panic.

“Number four looks like she’s about to go into cardiac arrest.” Whispers Spencer, Completely unnecessarily, there no way she’d hear through all the commotion across the long oak table currently cluttered with mock-ups and neglected articles.

“I give her another week, tops.” Predicts Madison,

Discretely pointing towards the stressed assistant across the room with her pencil, before they attempt to, out- shout there peers in vain, and try to overpower Vanguard’s go-to journalist she seems to favor so much.

“Alright, Jeffrey I want my cover ready to print by 3:00 pm sharp. Get to work.”

Kiss ass, Thinks Spencer before listening as she proceeds to tell of the Grammy Awards the following night.

“You…The new girl.” Vanguard says pointing Spencer out from across the room.

And it suddenly feels like high school all over again, being called out to the front of the class. The way the room grows silent and everyone looks back at you expectantly, and you visibly darken a shade without the need of tanning booths, or Fake Bake.

“Me?” Asks Spencer looking around in confusion, considering how she’s been interning here for a year now.

“Yes you…Do you have a name?”

Like I said, it’s a typical day at the offices of Vanity Fair.

“Yeah it’s…its Spencer.” She stutters in nervousness as a room full of curios eyes look back at her.

“You’re the girl whose been blowing up my inbox with articles every week?”

“Yes maim, that’s me.” Spencer says in embarrassment as Madison chuckles in amusement beside her.

“Well here’s your shot, I’m sending you, and one camera tomorrow night. I want the inside scoop and in depth interviews. Don’t screw this up Stacie.” She warns with a pointed finger.

“It’s Spencer…” She tries in ignorance, as she is already retreating past the glass doors.

Turning back towards Madison teasingly, “How bad do you want to be my camera woman tomorrow night?”

“Get off your high horse, Stacie.” she retorts teasingly with a small eye roll.
--------------------
Grammy night, Los Angeles, Kodak Theater

“Maybe we should have gotten here earlier.” yells Madison above screaming paparazzi and interviewers fighting for “A list” attention.

Pushing there way around flashing cameras, towards the far end of the press line, where a large man in wild curls continues to knowingly brush his elbow against Spencer’s breast and shout in her vicinity with foul smelling breath, in futile attempt to capture some reality star’s interest.

Her cell phone rings, the words “Boss lady” displayed across the screen.

Plugging a finger into her other ear in hopes of muffling out the background noise. “Hello…”

“I’m not paying you spectate.” Is said simply before the line falls dead, and Spencer swears she has all he employees on surveillance.
-------------------

“…You’re on in 30 minutes… so you only have time for one interview…” tells Amie, the eager to please publicist/manager/number one groupie.

A four time lapse of judgment Ashley vows to never allow again.

“…make it a good one, and stay away from Chelsea Handlers people.” she advises while plucking at nonexistent lint on her vest.

“Why?...She’s hilarious” Ashley says, enjoying the panicked look Amie wears nervously while pacing in place.

At first sight you’d assume she was the one about to walk the red carpet minutes before performing her first hit single in front of hundreds of famed musicians, and millions of viewers worldwide.

It’s actually kind of cute… NO. Not going there again, way too much baggage. Ashley reminds herself while shaking her head slightly.

And then she sees her, mid swing, out of the corner of her eye.
The awkward… yet absolutely startling, completely out of place, but still inviting blonde, with wide crystal blue eyes who couldn’t possibly be any worse at her job.

A poodle in a sea of pit bulls, frozen in place as she fidgets fretfully with the press I.D. handing from her neck in one hand, while sporadically bouncing a microphone against her lap with the other.

“What about her?” She asks Amie, never tearing her eyes from her unsuspecting muse.

“No. Never heard of her…the better press is further down the line. I suggest you try there.” She encourages futilely.

Her mind is set, and the captivating blonde might as well wear a bleeping target above her golden tresses.

“Shit!” Spencer mutters under her breath when the unforgiving mammoth beside her knocks her microphone and cue cards from her already uneasy hands and she kneels to pick up the scattered mess, seemingly unfazed by the dirt and grime around her knees.

“Here…let me help.” Says Ashley reaching across from the opposite side of the railing, where she squats to assist her faithfully.

Without ever looking up from the task at hand she says, “Thanks.”

With a sweet voice. Too sweat to be competing with the boisterous ones that surround her.

“No worries.” Ashley says, hypnotized with the way she casually dust off her dress, now stained above the knee.

And she can’t look away. She’s completely aware that she’s staring, but just doesn’t care.

Damned be manners, and self respect, to hell with discretion and logic. It’s like the world goes into slow motion and blurs around her before she looks up from behind the curtain of hair surrounding her face.

And once again the microphone hits the ground with a thud, and her jaw mimics alongside surprise filled eyes.

“Careful…” Ashley says through soft laughter, handing over the beaten microphone. “I hear these things are expensive.”

“…”

She doesn’t respond. She doesn’t blink. She barely remembers to breathe. It’s as if her feet have become cemented onto the sticky pavement beneath her, all it’s all a by product of the extravagant smile and mesmerizing orbs before her, and nothing to do with her celebrity status. She thinks she’d feel the same if she were any other. And that absolutely terrifies her.

“You have some thing you want to ask me?” Ashley questions with a reassuring smile after glancing at the video camera directed before her.

“Right...right!” Says Spencer, shaking her head just as a crimson blush overtakes her cheeks. Uncomfortably gripping the microphone after she’s recovered she asks, “So…who are you wearing?”

“True religion dark jeans…” Ashley begins, pulling the microphone towards her after Spencer remained holding it bellow her own mouth in inexperience. Enjoying the way she blushes again in the process. “…I don’t know who makes the vest…and Draven Misfit slip on’s.” She finishes before a few more questions are asked, this time with more ease.

“Ashley Davies!” shouts the large man beside Spencer when he notices her. Resulting in a bombardment of flashing cameras as he shoves a microphone in her direction, whirling questions at her a mile a minute. None of which he will receive an answer for.

“Hey!...Halitosis Hurley…she’s mine.” Claims the blonde possessively, much to Ashley’s secret enjoyment.

It seems she does have a backbone. Ashley thinks. And what a pretty one it is.

“I mean…” Spencer attempts to reconcile, glancing towards Ashley briefly before dropping her gaze towards shifting feet in unnecessary surrender.

“You heard her.” Ashley tells her competitors with a shrug as she buries her hands into her back pockets’, dodging the looks Amie throws in her direction. “Where were we?” She questions, angling her head through a smile to meet the blonds’ downcast eyes.

“We need to go.” Amie curtly interjects, with a hand grasping at her shoulder a few minutes later.

“Right.” Ashley says in both disappointment and acknowledgement.

“Good Luck tonight…” says the blond softly, gazing straight into brown eyes as she does her blue. “…And thanks for the interview.”

“Thank You…and it was my pleasure.” Ashley reveals in honesty just as Amie tugs her down the carpet and she is forced to remorsefully look away from alluring blue eyes.

“I need to know her name…” She tells Amie in realization when they arrive back stage. “…Find out her name.”
--------------------

That night Ashley Davies gave an outstanding opening performance at the annual Grammy awards, legitimizing herself as true performer, and in the process of which her career would sky rocket, and she would quickly become the newest international music sensation.

Consequently enhancing Spencer Carlin’s career as well, for she was the only journalist to get an interview with Rock n Rolls newest alumni.

And on that same night, long past after parties and congratulatory celebrations from both parties, Spencer Carlin would go to bed with thoughts of a particular grinning rock star that left the up in coming journalist at a loss for words.

Ashley Davies would fall into sleep, deep in thoughts of a particular blue eyed interviewer that congested her head with lyrics and love songs. All about a girl whose name she’d learned after her assistant reluctantly made some phone calls.

The following morning, she would search the listing in search of Stacie Carlin to no avail.

To be continued…

All For Believing [1/?] (Spashley)

2008-09-28T23:42:41Z

Title: All For Believing
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Pairing: Spashley
Rating: PG-13 (R Rating for later chapters)
Word Count: 2240
Disclaimer: I own nothing...
A/N: A huge thanks to thecon12, this would be nothing without your input, and just a huge thanks for being there :) Oh and for beta-ing it =D.
Summary: When your life turns itself upside down, it's always the unexpected person who brings it back round again.

(All For Believing)

FIC: Our Dance Floor is Wherever it Just Needs to be

2008-07-22T17:20:51Z

Title: Our Dance Floor is Wherever it Just Needs to be
Pairing: Spencer/Ashley
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1065
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: AU. Spencer still felt uncomfortable about it. Like she was intruding, somehow.

you slow it down

Fic: Just A Girl Missing Her Girlfriend [South Of Nowhere - Spashley]

2008-07-15T19:10:41Z

Title: Just A Girl Missing Her Girlfriend

Fandom: South Of Nowhere

Rating: R

Word Count: 550

Disclaimer: Only the rambling is mine, everything else not

A/N: Could be read as either Spencer’s or Ashley’s point of view. It’s just a weird little ramble recounted as if she wasn’t talking about herself, except it’s quite obvious she is, know what I mean?

Summary: She just really misses her girlfriend.

She had been gone for a while now and you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed her so much. It hadn’t even been a week yet and she said she was going to be gone for a few weeks. You really didn’t know how you were going to survive that. And to top it all off, it was going to be your birthday in a couple of days and you knew she wouldn’t be there to spend it with you. ‘Cause that’s all you really wanted to do on your birthday, spend the day with her, very possibly make love to her all day. That would have been the only gift you were looking forward to: her. But that wouldn’t happen, she wouldn’t even be able to get a hold of you anyhow and it wasn’t her fault at all. Leave it to her mom to send her off somewhere with such short notice, or no notice at all like ‘hey here’s your bags, see you in a few weeks darling, bye!’And of course it would be a place where you couldn’t even text her! Bitch.

The days went on so slow and goddamnit this place felt so boring without her, seriously, you never even remotely could have thought LA could be boring but without her around, that’s what it was: boring. Or at least it is now that you know what it’s like to be with her, she could make you enjoy even the most boring thing on the planet so now that she wasn’t here even the thing you enjoyed the most was boring. Nothing held your interest if it wasn’t with her. People had to literally drag you out of the house to try to keep you distracted but you know what? It never worked. So all you did was stay home with your laptop, constantly signed on AIM, you know, just in case she would get a hold of some kind of internet connection and you didn’t want to miss a chance, even if that was very not likely to happen.

And you know what’s worse? You were pretty horny. So what could you do? No, not cheat on her! I meant porn. Yeah, exactly. You didn’t even care if it was a movie or a fiction, you just needed to get off. God, you missed her so much. Her eyes, her hair, her lips, her beautiful face, her unique scent, her perfect round breasts, her grabby hands, her soft skin, her hips, her legs, her cute little bum, not to mention her… *clears throat*… where was I? Nevermind, let’s just say you missed her, all of her. So that didn’t help ease your “tension”, you needed to feel her inside of you, needed to be inside of her. You decided, then and there, that you were going to show her how much you missed when she got back. You would jump on her and smother her with kisses.

And that’s what you did, a couple of weeks later when, just as she got back home, you showed up at her door. Except you didn’t just kiss her, you did a hell of a lot more than that! You really, really needed that. Seriously. You couldn’t get enough of her. And apparently, neither did she!

FIC: Hope for the Hopeless [South of Nowhere, Spencer/Ashley]

2008-07-15T03:38:34Z

Title: Hope for the Hopeless
Author: jengrrrl
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Pairing: Spencer/Ashley
Rating: R (adult) for sexual situations, language
Spoilers/Continuity: Takes place years later.
Summary: "Maybe it was the rock-and-roll lifestyle that broke them up."
Word count: ~4,300
Disclaimers: I don't own any part of the show; just this story.
A/N: Written for mosca in the femslash08 challenge.

Hope for the Hopeless

HELP? Looking for fic with Glen/Aiden

2008-06-15T08:01:33Z

Okay so of course I love Spencer/Ashley, it's what makes the show so fabulous, the dynamics of those too, but I drool over Aiden and I'd LOVE to find fic where he's with Glen bc it'd be awesome to have a twist to their dynamic.

SO... ANY FIC WITH GLEN/AIDEN IN IT OUT THERE?

FIC: Road to Somewhere [South of Nowhere, Spencer/Ashley]

2008-05-08T20:15:09Z

Title: Road to Somewhere
Author: Jengrrrl
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Set right after the season 3A finale.
Words: 709
Date: May 8, 2008

Road to Somewhere

FIC: Tangled Up In Blue [South of Nowhere, Spencer/Ashley]

2008-04-27T05:39:34Z

Title: Tangled Up In Blue
Author: Jengrrrl
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: "It starts with an ad in the newspaper." AU
A/N: Written for the Freewheelin' Ficathon, and based on the Bob Dylan song of the same name.
Words: 10,246
Date: April 26, 2008

Tangled Up In Blue

Drabble/Ficlet Requests Now Open!

2008-04-07T01:06:49Z

(If this isn't allowed I apologize & feel free to delete.)

I've been really slacking with my fic writing because I've been uninspired. So I decided to do some drabble/ficlet requests. You can request as many drabble/ficlets as you want but put your first two choices first as those will absolutely get done (anything over two will be written when/if time allows). Make sure to give prompts (a line/setting/theme) with your request!

I'm gonna lock the post on April 12 then requests will be posted sometime in the next month!

Follow the link for the fandom/pairing list & to make requests

FIC: From An Atlas of a Difficult World [South of Nowhere, Spencer/Ashley]

2008-03-24T21:42:35Z

Title: From An Atlas of a Difficult World
Author: Jengrrrl
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Ashley believes. Future fic
Words: 2,195
Date: March 24, 2008

From An Atlas of a Difficult World

Looking for inspiration

2008-03-05T23:23:20Z

With the cancellation, I'm jonesing to write, but I'm looking for some challenge sites/boards/forums for some help.

Any suggestions?

Or, if you have a challenge, pose it here!

Thanks in advance :-)

Perfection (Aiden/Ashley, Ashley/Spencer) PG-13

2008-02-12T16:40:27Z

Title: Perfection
Pairing: Aiden/Ashley, Ashley/Spencer, Aiden/Ashley/Spencer UST, past Aiden/Kyla
Warnings: none
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo
Summary: In a perfect world, Aiden would be with Ashley and Spencer and drama just wouldn't exist.
A/N: Written for </a></a>tamingthemuse prompt # 82- Utopia, This is my first SON fic so be gentle with me *grin*

"Morning."

Aiden opens his eyes to find Ashley with that camera again. She looks so completely innocent that he feels nervous suddenly and races to the bathroom. Sure enough "Ashley's girl" is scribbled across his forehead.

He walks outside to see her with a smirk on her face.

Honestly, tackling her is the only thing to do in a situation like this. Aiden waits until she squeals her defeat before he kisses her. She feels perfect against him and he wishes that it was like that for her too.

"Good morning." He finally responds.

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

It feels wrong when they hold hands and walk down the hallway. In that completely right way.

Aiden laughs to himself. Of course it would be like that. When has anything with Ashley ever been simple? Even before Spencer and the drama that followed. Like that time Ashley dated her. Or the time he almost did. He thinks he should be able to hate her, be mad at her- at both of them for that matter, but he can't. He loves Spencer too. She gets him in a way that's new and not filled with tragedy. She bonds with him because she wants to, not because she needs to.

See? Anything but simple.

In a perfect world, the three of them would just date each other. Just cut the drama out and God knows that's what his libido wants. Ash's too, if the way her eyes focus on her "best friend" is any indication.

But it's not perfect. So instead they have this. Three relationships melded into two people. The only time everything fits is when they're alone together, sharing things that they know they couldn't tell anyone else. A part of him feels victorious to have that part of Ashley just for him.

He could leave but he knows he won't. He's too selfish for that and Ash is too lonely to let him go.

"See you later?" Ashley looks at him and smiles.

"Yeah." For a moment things are as they were back then. He feels the urge to kiss her and hold his hand over the baby that's no longer there.

"Ash." Spencer runs up to the two of them and instantly Ashley's fingers are out of his hands and into hers. "Hey Aiden."

He waves a greeting, kisses them both on their cheek and heads off to a class he's already late to.

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

"You're in love with both of them," Kyla sagely informs him during drama class.

"Are you saying this as Ash's sister or my ex-girlfriend?" Aiden questions her with an eyebrow raised.

Kyla grins and smacks him across the chest. "I'm telling you as the friend whose heart you just happened to have broken when you left me for my sister."

"I love Ash." Aiden says.

'Trust me, I know that more than anyone."Kyla says and Aiden ducks his head at the memory of her finding out that he still loved Ashley on prom night. "But that doesn't mean that you don't have something for Spence."

She quiets down as their teacher passes them, and presses up against him, eyes wide and innocent. He's about to comment when he realizes that that's in the script.

"Just tell them." She whispers before kissing him.

Aiden would revise his utopia to include this too but that would be too weird. Even for him. Besides, Kyla might not be into making out with her sister just for his twisted dreams (Even if it does give Ashley a chance to see what he meant by that tongue thing that Kyla does).

She hits him on the chest as she pulls away. "Don't even think it."

"Too late." He grins and doesn't even duck when she attacks him with glitter.

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

He walks up behind Ashely and Spencer without either girl noticing him. Their heads are bent together and they're lost in their own little world.

"Hey. You ladies aren't planning on running away together again are you?"

Ashley grins up to him. "Not without my chauffeur." She pulls him for a kiss but turns away when she sees Spencer getting up. "You heading home?"

"Yeah," Spencer says as she shifts from one foot to the other.

It's on the tip of Aiden's tongue to tell her to stay, or better yet to come home with them so that they can finally figure things out-

"Call me when you get home okay?"

-but he can't. The problem with utopia is that eventually you have to face reality, and the reality of it is getting their feelings out there will just cause more issues, more drama.

And Aiden is scared to be left alone when dust settles.

Spencer looks at him as if his thoughts are written on his face but nods anyway. Ashley watches as she leaves before turning to him. "I'm lucky to have you, you know?"

"Yeah, I am pretty awesome." The stand up together and Aiden can't help but think that for having almost everything that he wants, things are pretty perfect.

FIC: Running Up That Hill [South of Nowhere, Spencer/Ashley]

2008-01-18T08:04:59Z

Title: Running Up That Hill
Author: Jengrrrl
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Rating: adult
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: What if Ashley had never returned from her trip to Europe? AU
Words: 2,878
Date: January 18, 2008

Running Up That Hill

2 drabbles...

2008-01-01T05:48:34Z

I did a drabble challenge and they're finally all posted...

Author: Sydney Redfield
Rating: I'm not gonna bother rating them all. They're G all the way up through R.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Nothing much in the way of spoilers for anything (at least not from my perspective) but if you see some, I apologize in advance.

Drabbles of interest:

2 | South of Nowhere [Spencer/Ashley]

[<a href="http://sinandmisery.livejournal.com">link to journal to see the list of cuts</a> | <a href="http://sinandmisery.livejournal.com/12769.html">direct link to see behind the cut</a>]

The After Party (Spencer/Ashley) NC-17

2007-12-25T00:10:49Z

Title: The After Party
Author: paperbackbandit
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Spencer/Ashley
Summary: What happens immediately after Spencer arrives on Ashley's doorstep
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for the finale of 3A. Mild NC-17. You've been warned.

I blindly stumble into the foyer behind her. She’s naked. She came to my apartment, naked. She’s walking towards my bedroom, naked.

Can you blame the grin on my face?

Can you blame me for taking my clothes off in the hallway?

I’m going to let her do whatever she wants, anywhere she wants, for as long as she wants. I don’t care.

Are you serious?

Glen is not calling me right now.

I throw the cell phone to the couch, toss my cami on top of it, reach around my back to unhook my bra, adding it to the pile. My hairtie breaks off in my hands as I hurriedly shake out my hair.

I’m untying my boy shorts, frustrated by the developing knot. I’m trying to pull them down my hips, damning the knot, racing around the corner into my bedroom, where she’s already draped across my sheets, her head on my pillow, her eyes eager, her lips curled up into a smile.

“C’mere, Ash,” she whispers, sitting up so her hair falls over her shoulder. “Let me do that.”

I stumble over to her, my hands still struggling to get my pants off, but slowing down as I realize she wants to do it for me. I kneel on the bed, straddling one of her legs. She slides further down, closer to my body, and reaches up to still my hands. She doesn’t even look at the knot, and I can’t take my eyes from hers. In seconds, I feel her fingertips sliding my shorts down as heat slides up my body.

I shift my weight so the pants fall onto the floor. Her hands run up my sides, her body lies back, and pulls mine to cover her. I can finally dip my head down to kiss her for the first time since she dropped that trench coat.

What was it? Thirty seconds ago? Sixty? Feels like hours, and my lips and my tongue dance with hers like it’s been years.

Her hands can’t decide whether to grip my head or my shoulders or my waist, but her body knows it wants mine pressed up against hers. I can already feel the sweat pooling between us and I know I’m soon going to be dripping in more ways than one.

She finally breaks our kisses to turn her face slightly so I can move down her jawline, down her neck. She breathes into my ear, “Who keeps blowing up your phone?” and between kissing her collarbone and trying to tune out the muffled ringtone, I growl into her bronzed skin, “Your damn brother.”

A short “Ha” escapes from her chest and she finishes with, “He’s probably calling about your damn sister.” A hand finds its way back into my curls, her lips back to mine. Her hands decide on a final destination and my body stills in anticipation while they slide down my waist.

“Remind me to kill them both in the morning,” she purrs into my ear as her fingers find their desired location. The rush of breath escaping my lips makes me miss her words.

I touch my forehead to hers, steadying the upper half of my body over the rocking, grinding, aching lower half. My eyes stay closed as I ask her to repeat what she said.

“I said, ‘God, I’ve missed you.’” And I pry my eyes open to see that hers have probably never left my face. I begrudgingly slow myself down, pull my head from hers, and her hand reaches up to my face, cups my cheek, eyebrows drawn together, asking what’s wrong. I shake my head slowly, and I know my hips tell her I still want this, I still want her.

I just need to know why.

I don’t need to ask; she can read my eyes like a paperback novel. She leans up to kiss me, accidentally sliding deeper, rolling my eyes back. My lips still find hers and she kisses me deeply, her hand holding my neck steady. When she breaks away to kiss my cheek, kiss my earlobe, she curls the fingers on her other hand and says, “Because I’m still in love with you, Ashley Davies.”

When my world has stopped spinning, and I can finally see straight enough to look into her eyes, I can see her words were the truth. She does still love me; she’s still in love with me.

“Spencer,” I say, stopping her hand from brushing the whispys from my forehead. “Not that I didn’t appreciate the gesture, but you didn’t have to show up at my doorstep naked to tell me you loved me.”

She laughed. “True, but, you have to admit it did get my point across.” I blushed in both embarrassment and pleasure; her warm lips kissed the rosiest point on my cheek. “I wanted to tell you in person, Ash. And I just missed being with you, like that, like this, like we were when I first moved here, when I first fell in love with you. I just wanted all of that back.”

“Did you get what you wanted?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, Ashley. Yes, I did.” I felt relief wash over me, and I pulled her tighter to me, tangling myself into her arms.

Oh, trenchcoats…

FIC: Deep Honey (shout it) [South of Nowhere] (Spencer/Ashley)

2007-12-21T21:30:03Z

“Deep Honey (shout it)” by Jengrrrl
[South of Nowhere] (Spencer/Ashley)
“So, today is World Orgasm Day…”
1453 words
adult

Deep Honey (shout it)

Fake PG-13

2007-11-28T22:09:16Z

Title: Fake
Author: BwayElla
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Aiden/Ashley Spencer/Ashley
Summary: I'm no good at summaries just read
Spoilers/Warnings: sex refrences

Lying there several things pass through your mind. Your formerly innocent, clean mind. You watch his bare back become covered by the polo shirt he had walked into the party wearing. You wrapped the plain white sheet tighter around yourself. The thin lining feels like your only protection from the cold room and the fear swirling around like an invisible whirlwind.

He still hasn’t said anything and you can’t seem to get any words out. Your mouth is dry and your head is spinning making it almost impossible for you to remember your own name, let alone form sentences.

He is sitting on the edge of the bed now; his now fully clothed back still facing you. The silence -the antagonizingly empty- silence is eating away at your insides but you can’t force yourself to speak. His usually neat black hair is messy and seems to refuse to flatten no matter how many times he runs his hand through his hair.

You don’t know what to think.

You don’t know whether to feel sad, or happy, or maybe even…relieved. It wasn’t what you thought it was going to be. You love him. Don’t you? And your first time is supposed to be with someone you love. So why did it feel so incredibly wrong?

You wonder what he is thinking. Was he experiencing the same doubt that you are? You are jerked out of your thoughts when he rises up from the bed and walks towards the bedroom door. You can feel more than hear the base that is rising up from the living room door.

You can’t bring yourself to stop him. He opens the door and steps out into the hallway. Someone screams from downstairs but you barely hear it.

He turns around and you can’t be sure but you think you see remorse sparkling in his green eyes before he slams the door shut on your face.

You open the door to your house, one of your perfectly manicured nails scratches against the wood surface and breaks, but you honestly could care less. As you enter your abode you can’t help but feel tainted and –compared to the perfect wallpapered walls and the people who live inside them- you are. You don’t feel worthy enough to be in this house with it’s perfect floors and perfect family.

You lean against the wooden door and stare around the main hallway, the night passing through your head. It was the right ting to do, so why the hell is all of this doubt still here. The perfect walls seem to be getting closer together and breathing is becoming an alarming issue. You reach up a shaking hand to wrap around your neck and your eyes widen as you watch them get even closer.

Something warm trickles down your hand and lands on your white blouse. You look down and are surprised to see a streak of red on the blouse. As you look at the blouse you come to the realization that you are the red. You are tainting this perfectly white blouse.

You can’t stay here. You have to get out.

Swinging the door behind you open you dash out into the chilly night air; clutching your bleeding nail bed. Hurriedly you scamper down the streets, abandoning your car far behind. You begin to run faster then you ever have before.

Finally, you end up in front of another door and you raise an uncertain hand to knock on it. The door opens and two groggy green eyes observe you for a moment before widening in shock.

“Chica! What happened to you?”

You wonder what she is referring to. Is it your messed up hair, your ruined blouse, or the twinkle in your eye that suggests that you have done un-Godly things tonight. Whatever it is you can only nod to answer her question.

She reaches out a hand to offer you inside and you gladly take it, a wave of relief washing through your body.

“Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up."

When She Loved Me (Spencer/Ashley, R)

2007-11-17T09:09:17Z

Title: When She Loved Me
Author: rusty_tiffany
Pairing: Spencer/Ashley
Rating: R, for sex and some language
Word Count: 3,386
Disclaimer: Tom Lynch's, not mine, although I wish they were. lyrics belong to Disney and Pixar or someone else who isn't me.
Summary: She was my world; my best friend, my lover, my soulmate, my everything. And I lost her. slightly AU.

When somebody loved me

Everything was beautiful

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

Sophomore year of college, I took a psych course. I somehow completed most of the required courses for the year, so I had the chance to take a few more electives than normal, and I chose psychology. I don’t really know why I picked it, there were tons of other available options, but I guess part of me had hoped that I’d learn something that would help me make sense of the events of the last three years of my life.

We were studying loss and regret and the effects they can have on a person’s psyche. We were assigned a paper asking us to identify the one thing we regret most in our lives and discuss how it has affected us. Most people seemed to have somewhat of a difficult time deciding on what event to write about, but not me. I knew exactly what I was going to write about. It was an easy decision really; I had been thinking about it since I started the class. Everything we studied reminded me of it. It had happened over a year ago, but it was fresh in my mind and in my heart as though it had been only a few days. My greatest regret was my greatest heartbreak: losing the love of my life.

People find it hard to believe that we could have been so serious about each other and so deeply and passionately in love when we were so young, but what we had was more real than many of the “adult” relationships we grew up around. She was my world; my best friend, my lover, my soulmate, my everything. And I lost her.

And when she was sad

I was there to dry her tears

And when she was happy so was I

When she loved me

We’d been through so much together, both good and bad. I held her as she broke down and cried when her dad died, and I was there by her side celebrating with her when she was offered the chance to record an album, first together with Kyla singing their dad’s hits, then a few months later when she did her own solo album, filled with her own songs. We leaned on each other for support, and we shared each other’s joy. Neither of us would have had the strength to endure the hardships we were faced with alone, and even our happiest moments wouldn’t have been as perfect if we hadn’t experienced them together.

Through the summer and the fall

We had each other that was all

Just she and I together

Like it was meant to be

And when she was lonely

I was there to comfort her

And I knew that she loved me

For two years we spent almost every waking moment together, and on the rare occasions that we were forced to be apart, we kept in close contact by spending hours on the phone. I spent more time at her house than I did at my own; her mom was rarely around, and Kyla respected our privacy by going out often, or, if she was home, staying in her room. The three of us did hang out sometimes, along with Madison, but she understood that we usually just wanted to be with each other and left us alone. We were inseparable, and we liked it that way. We were young, happy and in love, and nothing could stop us from being together.

So the years went by

I stayed the same

But she began to drift away

I was left alone

Still I waited for the day

When she’d say I will always love you

I never loved anyone the way I loved her. She was everything to me, and I truly thought we would be together forever. She seemed to feel the same way, at least until her music career started taking off, right after our high school graduation. I was so proud of her for achieving her dream, and she was happier than I’d seen her in a long time, almost since before her father died. We managed to make it work for a while, all through the recording and release of her album and the subsequent frenzy the country went into over her. We even survived her first national tour. It was the second tour that our problems began.

She would be gone for weeks at a time, and I couldn’t go with her like I had the first time because I was starting college. At first, she would come back every chance she got, and we would talk constantly, running up our phone bills filling in the details of our everyday lives so neither of us felt like we were missing out. But as time passed, her visits came more sporadically, and our phone conversations became shorter and less frequent. She often sounded distracted, and many times I overheard her flirting with various members of her band and her numerous groupies. I tried to convince myself that it would all be okay again when she got home from the tour, but the date of her return kept getting pushed off more and more, and then came the world tour.

It was exactly like the national tour, only ten times worse. Not only was she gone for even longer periods of time, but with the time difference, her hectic schedule and my own work, we were reduced to talking only a couple times a month, and only for a few minutes each time. I missed her terribly, but I knew how happy she was being on tour and singing her songs, and I wasn’t going to stand in her way. As in love with her as I was, I finally had to accept that she was gone.

The next time we spoke, I told her to stop calling so I could attempt to get over and move on with my life. It killed me to break up with her, but it hurt too much to be alone and waiting for her, and I couldn’t do it anymore. She told me she was sorry that it had come to this and that she never meant to hurt me, but that she understood, and she would respect my wishes.

I didn’t go out much after that, although Aiden and Madison tried their hardest to get me out of my room and go clubbing with them. Chelsea was off at art school in Europe, and while we did keep in touch, she had her own life there, and didn’t come home often. Kyla had gone off to New York for college, and usually came to visit a few times a year, but she spent most of her time in the city.

I tried dating other girls, but I kept catching myself comparing them to her and they never matched up, so I gave up. A few of the girls were actually really cool and under different circumstances something might have developed between us, but my heart belonged to someone else, no matter how hard I tried to forget her. I still felt a surge of pride whenever she was on TV or a magazine cover, or when I overheard random people talking about how hot and talented she was. She was still the first person I wanted to call when something good happened, and the first person I wanted to turn to for comfort when I was having a rough time. I did my best to move one, but a part of me still longed to be with her, for everything to be like it was in high school.

Lonely and forgotten

Never thought she’d look my way

She smiled at me and held me

Just like she used to do

Like she loved me

When she loved me

I tivo’d every single interview she did and award show appearance she made, and kept every magazine that mentioned her for an entire year. I missed her every minute of every day, even though it was clear that she had moved on. There were constant rumors about her and this actress, or her and that singer, and she always has some gorgeous girl on her arm on the red carpet. As much as I wished that she would come back to me and that we could be together again, I knew it was a hopeless dream. She was living her dream, and didn’t have to deal with school, or parents, or commitment; why would she ever come back?

About two weeks after writing that paper, I was sitting in the living room of the off-campus apartment I shared with Madison and Aiden, watching her interview with Ellen from the day before that I had taped. Aiden had a date, and Madison was off at some party her sorority was hosting. She’d decided at the beginning of the year that she would much rather live with me and Aiden than try to survive 120 other girls all living together and PMSing at the same time. Dealing with all that petty bullshit girls put each other through was not something worthy of her time and energy, she’d said. She had really grown up since high school.

I was brooding on the couch in my pajamas, eating the remaining pint of Ben and Jerry’s left over from last weekend when Madison and I had a girl’s night in, complete with ice cream, nail polish and chick flicks, when I heard a soft knock at the door. I thought I had imagined it, so I ignored it, but then I heard it again a few seconds later. I paused the TV and got up to answer it, clueless as to who was on the other side.

As I opened the door and saw who was standing there, my breath caught in my throat, rendering me speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; standing in front of me was none other than the one person I loved more than anything in the world: Ashley Davies.

I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe; all I could do was stand there frozen with my jaw dropped. She looked tired, and the chocolate-colored eyes that I loved to stare into for hours on end were rimmed with red, as though she had been crying. She gave me a weak smile and asked if she could come in. I was still in shock, but I stepped away from the door to let her pass. She didn’t sit down, just stood facing the couch with her back to me. I was about to ask what she was doing in my living room when we hadn’t spoken in over a year when she turned towards me and started speaking.

“You’re probably wondering what the hell I’m doing here, when we’ve been broken up for a year and it was my fault in the first place. It’s a long story, but you deserve to know the truth, especially after the way I treated you.

“When I left for the second tour, I never intended to end our relationship. I was weak, and I got caught up in the glamorous rockstar life I thought I wanted. I would go out partying and get drunk or high and wake up next to someone I barely knew, then leave before they woke up to avoid dealing with the inevitably awkward situation. The night you broke up with me, I went out with my band, got completely shit-faced, and hooked up with about six different people, trying to find that something I was missing, although at the time I hadn’t yet figured out what it was exactly.

“I tried to forget about you by fooling around with other girls, but they never matched up. No one understood me in the way that you did, no one cared about me or took care of me like you did. In the end, they all just wanted to be able to say they fucked Ashley Davies. They were all fake, and none of them meant anything to me.

“I started seeing you everywhere I went, picturing your face every time I closed my eyes, hearing your voice every time I tried to write a song. I finally realized that it was you that was missing from my life, but I knew I’d screwed up and hurt you and I didn’t know if you would want to see me or even hear from me. Hell, for all I knew, you had moved on and were happily in love with someone new. I threw myself into my music to avoid dealing with the pain of losing you. It was working too, until yesterday when I went on Ellen. You couldn’t tell how messed up I was from the televised interview, but I spent three hours with her after the show, crying and finally talking about everything I’d been bottling up inside for the past year and a half. She was amazing; she managed to calm me down, and told me that if I was serious about wanting to fix things between us, then I would have to come talk to you, in person, and show you just how pathetic and fucked up I really am. She said I’d have to beg for forgiveness, and just hope that some part of you still cares enough about me to give me a second chance, even though I don’t deserve it.

“So here I am, begging you to take me back. I’m a wreck without you, and I’ve regretted how I acted every single day. I miss you more than you can imagine. I love you Spencer Carlin, and I will never love anyone the way I love you. If you let me, I swear I will do everything in my power to protect you and make you happy, and I will never do anything to hurt you ever again, because you are the most important thing in the world to me. Please, I’m begging you. I love you, I miss you, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so, incredibly sorry.”

Our eyes met, and she held my gaze for a moment, searching for a clue as to what I was thinking. I was still so stunned that she was even there, standing in front of me after so long, saying everything I’d been longing to hear that I just stood there, dumbfounded and mute. When I didn’t respond, she turned away, the tears glistening in her eyes threatening to spill, and started moving towards the door.

It took me until her hand was on the doorknob to snap out of my trance. I had been pining for this girl for a year and a half, and here I was, about to blow my shot at another chance with her. I reached out and grasped her hand just as she was opening the door to leave, a familiar rush flowing through my body at the contact. She looked down as our clasped hands, then up at me, her eyes full of questions and hope. I stared back at her, and hidden behind all the masks and lies and pain and confusion, I saw fear and love, and in that moment I knew every word she said was true.

I stepped forward and pressed my lips against hers for the first time in eighteen months. It took her a moment to register what was happening, but then she returned the kiss with all the passion and desperation I was feeling. My mouth moved over hers, tasting the cherry lip gloss she had borrowed after a particularly memorable day we had spent ditching school to go to the beach. As I felt her tongue pressed gently against my lips asking for permission to enter, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my body and settle between my legs. Air was beginning to become an issue, but I didn’t care; I never wanted to stop kissing her.

I was so wrapped up in her I didn’t realize that we had moved until I felt the couch hit my legs and we fell back onto it, our mouths never breaking contact. Her thigh found its way between mine and she pressed down, sending waves of pleasure through me. I moaned into the kiss, and felt her press herself against my own thigh, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. I could feel the heat emanating from her center, and knew that she could feel the same coming from me. I felt her hand slide under my shirt and across my stomach, pushing my shirt up in the process. Her touch was light, almost teasing, and it left a trail of goose bumps on my skin.

Our kiss finally broke when I arched into her, unable to restrain myself any longer, desperate for more contact. She bent her head and moved to my neck, sucking and biting and branding me with a small cluster of purple bruises, and brought her hand up to cup my breast. I raked my fingers through her dark tresses and pulled her head up so I could reclaim her sweet addictive mouth. Her hand worked its way down my body slowly and tantalizingly, inching closer to the place I so desperately needed her to touch me.

She stopped suddenly and pulled away, her hand hovering millimeters over the source of my heat. I opened my eyes to see her grinning wickedly down at me, as she fingered the waistband of my pants. Rather than cave and let her win, I decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, to subject her to her own delicious torture. I slid my hands down her thighs, squeezed her ass and thrust my knee against her, causing her eyes to flutter closed as she groaned at the sensation. She rocked against me a few times before opening her eyes and staring into mine, her eyes dark with arousal and a look of lust etched across her face. She pulled me roughly towards her and kissed me hard, pouring every ounce of passion and desire she was feeling into it, and I returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Without thinking, our hands moved down and we slid into each other simultaneously, quickly establishing a rhythm. We moved together, our fingers working expertly, touching all the right places and knowing exactly what to do to get the other off. Out mouths continued dueling, tongues fighting for dominance, kissing and sucking and biting as the fires within us grew and we got closer and closer to the edge. I could feel myself beginning to lose control as I lost myself in her and the sensations she was igniting in me, so I thrust harder and faster into her, trying to spark in her the same things I was feeling.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt her walls clench tightly around my fingers. I didn’t let up, and she cried out in pleasure as her orgasm hit, hard. The image of her perfect tanned and toned body glistening with sweat and shaking as she rode it out was enough to trigger my own release, and I came hard, moaning her name.

We laid together on the couch for some time afterwards, not speaking, just enjoying the feeling of our spent bodies pressed together and listening as out breathing fell into matching patterns. After a few minutes I looked up at her and saw her looking back at me, her eyes showing nothing but pure love and satisfied bliss. I leaned in and kissed her, softly and lovingly.

“Thank you. For coming back.”

She smiled and shrugged. “You’re worth it.”

I smiled back and kissed her again. “I love you, Ashley Davies. I always have, and I always will.”

She pressed her forehead against mine and rubbed our noses together. “I love you too, Spence. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m never letting you go.”

We kissed again, then cuddled together and drifted off to sleep, utterly content.

When somebody loved me

Everything was beautiful

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

When she loved me

The Sweet to My Mean (South of Nowhere, Spencer/Ashley, PG)

2007-11-05T16:42:51Z

Title: The Sweet to My Mean
Author: alittlemorebite
Fandom: South of Nowhere
Pairing: Spencer/Ashley
Rating: PG
Summary: Spencer bakes, works on a crossword puzzle and does yoga.

( The Sweet to My Mean )