A/N: Thank you so much to the reviewers of my last story! So as promised, another season 5 fanfic for you guys. I got the idea from actress Troian Bellisario, who mentioned in an interview that Alison's return will be hard for Spencer. I might have stolen a couple lines from her… Props to those of you who can point out what they are. :) Happy reading!

Rendez-vous

It felt like there was cement in her shoes, Spencer thought as she dragged her feet up the steps to the loft where her boyfriend resided. Her body had grown increasingly uncooperative as the day wore on, and by the time last period rolled around she briefly considered cutting out early. Fatigue plagued her both mentally and physically, yet she told herself to suck it up before making her way to the physics lab. Andrew Campbell had to ask twice if she was all right, while he did the vast majority of the work on their experiment and she sat there wishing she were somewhere else. Guilt would come later, she knew, but all she felt now was colossal relief that school was over with and she could seek refuge in the arms of her sunshine.

However, the tired smile on her face quickly faded as she pushed open the door to the loft.

Sitting in her favorite spot on Toby's couch was none other than the angelic appearance of Alison DiLaurentis. Toby was sitting in a chair across from her, and they were both holding red coffee mugs in their hands. They looked almost… cozy.

For a moment, no one moved as they both looked up at Spencer. Then Alison got up, looking somewhat ruffled, and Toby followed suit.

"I should get going. Thanks," she added hastily, looking at Toby, "for the coffee."

He gave a short nod and Alison headed for the direction of the door, carefully avoiding Spencer's eyes.

"Bye, Spence."

"Bye," Spencer replied automatically, her voice raspier than usual as the beautiful blonde pushed past her.

Spencer and Toby remained rooted in their spot, even when the door closed shut behind Alison's lithe footsteps. Then Spencer started in the direction of the kitchen, and Toby started in the direction of her.

"Hey," he greeted gently.

"Hey." She walked around him, telling herself she wasn't avoiding his touch. She just really wanted a glass of water.

"You okay?" he asked delicately, waiting a moment before following her into the kitchen.

"Mm hmm," she murmured affirmatively, her back to him as she opened one of the cupboards for a glass.

"Spencer…" He sighed and came to stand close to her. "She was here to apologize, believe it or not. She said she's been trying to make things right with everyone she screwed over. I'm just one of the many people on that list."

"Okay," Spencer replied amicably, while she filled her glass with water from a bottle resting on the counter. She didn't know why looking at him suddenly seemed more difficult than the algebra problems she'd spent the better half of lunch period breaking her head over.

"Nothing happened," he said softly, causing her to finally meet his concerned baby blue eyes. She smiled half-heartedly and brushed a hand over his cheek.

"I know."

She moved to escape him again, but he caught her wrist this time and gently held her back. "Hey…" He took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter. "Come here."

And before she could protest he had gathered her in his arms, his nose buried in her hair as her cheek connected with his chest. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, feeling her muscles relax for the first time all day at the sound of his steady heartbeat against her eardrum. The pressure of his strong arms around her was just right, she thought. Not too loose; not to tight. It was perfect. He was perfect, and she gradually felt the stress of the past few weeks slip away.

The truth was that Alison's return to their daily lives had brought back a part of her that she wasn't sure she liked. It brought back feelings of poorly concealed jealousy, of insecurity and resentment – like a poisonous snake worming its way through her veins. It had always been impossible to compete with Alison. She could light up a room just by entering it, she was a natural leader, and to boot she was a hell of a lot smarter than most people gave her credit for. Alison had a way of making Spencer feel obsolete, like she was could scream her lungs out in a crowded room and no one would so much as blink… and it left her feeling petty and resentful in a way she hadn't since her friend first went missing. It was almost funny how Alison's presence always seemed to bring out the worst in her. If there was anything Spencer despised it was that awful irrationality that made her doubt her place in her friends' lives, in her brother's life and now even in her boyfriend's.

"She wants you," she muttered before she could stop herself.

Toby let out a disbelieving snort. "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not," she said with a hint of frustration, shrugging herself loose. "I'm telling you she wants you."

He held her back, refusing to let go when he saw the unhappy look in her eyes. "No, she doesn't. And even if she did… it wouldn't matter because I only want you."

She stopped struggling against him, letting the power of his words wash over her like a tidal wave. When she met his eyes they were open and sincere, and despite everything she smiled as she remembered Alison's words from a few weeks before.

When he tells you the truth, you believe him.

Her hands slid up chest, up to his shoulders and around his neck. She turned her face into his skin and felt him respond with equal vigor, nearly lifting her off her feet with the intensity of his hug. She felt one of his hands trail up her back and into her hair, brushing it off her shoulder so he could kiss the side of her neck. She shivered, burrowing even deeper into him.

"I know what you need," he murmured after a few nice, long moments. "Tomorrow, I'm going to pick you up and we are going to go out on a date. Something normal, that doesn't involve sneaking around in the woods, or a near death experience… and we don't end up screaming at each other."

She laughed a little, pulling away slightly to look at his face. He smiled into her eyes and tightened his hold around her waist.

"What do you say, Ms. Hastings? Will you be my date tomorrow?"

"Yes." She smiled back and brushed her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "But what about tonight?"

"Well…" He touched a feather light kiss to her lips. "Tonight I was thinking we could stay in, order take-out, rent a movie… Sound good?"

"Actually, I have a better idea."

He barely had the chance to shoot her questioning look before she reconnected her mouth with his, with much more urgency this time. It wasn't long before her tongue licked his bottom lip, begging for entrance, which he easily granted. Her whole body brushed up against his in the most sensual way possible, making him go week in the knees.

"Take me to bed," she said huskily, her fingers already opening the buttons on his shirt. Feeling daring, she tugged his head down and whispered in his ear, "I want to feel you inside me."

His mind muddled, but thankfully hands moved to her thighs on their own accord, lifting her up against him in one smooth, effortless movement. Her legs coiled around his waist and her teeth playfully sunk into his earlobe.

"Fais-moi l'amour," she requested seductively as he carried her to his bed.

"Hey, what was that you said before?" Toby requested as they lay there in the afterglow of zealous lovemaking.

She lifted her head from his chest to meet his eyes. "When?"

"When I was carrying you to bed," he elaborated with an eye-roll. He was pretty sure she knew exactly when. "You know… while I was barely able to formulate English sentences in my head and you still managed to articulate stuff in French."

She laughed, and his favorite sound on the planet echoed across the room. "Fais-moi l'amour," she repeated the phrase. "Make love to me. Wow, you must have had one lousy French tutor."

"Not true," he protested. "She just phrased it a little differently, that's all. She only taught me voulez-vous coucher avec moi."

More laughter escaped her lips and she smacked his chest. "I most certainly did not."

"Sure you did," he continued to tease her. "Oh come on, don't tell me you don't remember."

She opened her mouth to retort with what would undoubtedly be a very quippy remark, but he cut her off with a searing kiss, rolling them over so that he was on top of her, careful not to lean all of his weight on her, always a little afraid he might crush her.

She smiled at him, when they broke apart, pushing her fingers into the hair above his forehead as he continued to hover over her. "I seem to remember you acing your French final for your GED."

"Uh huh," he murmured, placing slow, openmouthed kisses against her neck and collarbone. "I guess all that sex talk you taught me really came in handy."

"Oh for God's sake." She pushed at his shoulders, and her eyes caught his playful ones. "I don't do sex talk."

"Uh Spence…" He raised one eyebrow amusedly. "The past half hour would beg to differ. You do sex talk in two languages."

She rolled her eyes. "All right, fine. But I didn't do sex talk back then," she told him, sounding like she was scandalized at the mere idea.

He smiled knowingly. He had come such a long way from the boy he was when she first walked up the steps to his house, that he sometimes forgot how much she had grown too. She was still intense and perfectionistic and driven, but he liked to think she had learned to prioritize a little along the way. Her family's opinion didn't matter quite as much as it once had, and this had given her a little rope to be happy with who she was. The Spencer of eighteen months ago would have probably been mortified at the mere idea of sexual innuendo with someone of the male species, but the Spencer beneath him knew exactly how to use it to her advantage.

As for him…

"I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't shown up on my parents' porch that day," he reflected out loud, feeling a twinge of melancholy in his gut. "Somewhere in a black hole probably…"

He'd meant it as the highest form of compliment, and so he was concerned when her previously carefree eyes clouded over.

"No, you wouldn't." Her lower lip trembled and he wondered what on earth could be wrong. "You'd be far away from Rosewood like you always wanted, probably with some beautiful girl who doesn't lie to you, and who doesn't put you in danger all the time just by loving you, and who–"

He pressed his lips against hers just to shut her up, unable to handle the words coming out of her mouth. He kissed her once, twice, three times – until he felt certain she was done blabbing uncontrollably.

"Listen to me," he said quietly, looking into her big, oval eyes. "Are you listing to me?"

She nodded, and he couldn't help but think that for once he had managed to render her speechless.

"I would rather be in hell, with you, than in paradise with anyone else."

He watched her take in the truth of his words, her eyes flicking back of forth between his. And then she kissed him – so passionately, so sensually that it made his toes curl. He felt an all too familiar arousal take over his entire body for the second time that day.

"Fais-moi l'amour," he managed to choke out before his brain turned into mush once again.

She laughed, her hand coming between them to guide him inside of her. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" she teased back in her sexy, raspy voice.

Their bodies connected in the most intimate way possible, and it felt like his heart was soaring.

Spencer was pulling on her heels when the doorbell rang. She cursed under her breath, wondering who was at the door and what they could possibly want. Toby was due to pick her up any minute, and she didn't want any distractions at this moment. He deserved her undivided attention, and it didn't count if he had to spend ten fifteen minutes de-stressing her first.

She pulled the door open with and annoyed expression on her face, but she swore her heart stopped when she caught sight of what was on her doorstep.

There stood Toby, wearing her favorite bright blue button down shirt – the one that so flawlessly reflected the color of his eyes – and holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand.

"Wh- what are you doing?" she asked in wonder, still having difficulty processing that he was here for her, that those flowers were for her. He hadn't used the doorbell or entered her house through the front door since… well, ever. From day one he had always come around back, at first hoping to avoid her parents and later simply because it was what all her friends did.

"I'm picking you up for our date," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

He took a step closer, his unoccupied hand moving to the small of her back, and kissed her cheek as he handed over the flowers. "Hi. You look beautiful."

She blushed, burying her nose in the roses hoping he wouldn't notice. "Thank you." She pulled him closer by his shirt and pressed an uninhibited kiss against his soft, warm lips. "And thank you for these." She smelled the flowers a second time. "You didn't have to do that."

He smiled self-consciously and shrugged one of his shoulders. "I wanted to."

Spencer's eyes shone with that twinkle that he adored. "Let me go put these in water and then we can go, okay?"

She felt his gaze on her as she disappeared down the hall, and couldn't help smiling to herself. At least her efforts to make herself look presentable hadn't gone to waste. She was wearing a moss green dress that came with a cream colored bowed belt, and matched it with her cream colored pumps and the earrings he'd given her for her eighteenth birthday. She had briefly considered straightening her hair, but knowing Toby didn't mind a little curl she'd left the ends wavy, resulting in an original mix that didn't turn out half bad, if she said so herself. She hadn't bothered with too much makeup, knowing he didn't really care about that – just some concealer, blush and a little something around her eyes.

He was leaning against the doorframe when she got back, his hands in his pockets, looking too delicious for words. She walked all the way up to him before she could stop herself, wrapping one arm around his waist as he did the same to her. She felt him smile against her lips as he kissed her, reaching back to pull the door shut behind them.

After a delicious meal at Bucolli's, Toby announced he was taking her to the movies next. Spencer found herself giddy at the prospect. She couldn't remember the last time she'd set foot inside the Rosewood movie theater. Last summer maybe? Was that possible? Had she been so wrapped up in her own drama that even the most trivial of outings had completely eluded her?

She shot Toby a grateful glance that he didn't even catch. Thank God he had more sense than she did. She realized she could always count on him to return some semblance of normalcy to her life. In this moment they were not two tortured souls, constantly surrounded by threats and paranoia and therefor being forced to grow up so much faster than their peers. Right now they were just two teenagers in love, enjoying some time together in between classes and job opportunities.

"So…" Toby turned to her. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Um…" Her eyes skimmed the movie choices, trying to find something they would both enjoy. "Maybe that one?"

He gave her a knowing look. "You're a liar. You know you want to see that one." He nodded towards a French film that was displayed off to the side.

"Well yeah but…" He looked at him. "I was trying to find something we'd both like."

She adored foreign films, and despite a little protest on his part, he usually admitted afterwards that he'd enjoyed it a lot more than he originally would have thought. But this was his night, too. She didn't want to badger him into seeing a movie he wasn't really feeling, especially since there was no telling when the next time would be that they got to do something like this. At the rate things were going she could be halfway through college before another opportunity presented itself.

"Spence…" His eyes softened as they caressed her face, causing warmth to instantly spread across her stomach. "Pick whatever you want. I'm game."

"Are you sure?" She searched his features for any sign of hesitation.

He nodded. "I'm sure."

And suddenly, she loved him so much it sent an ache across her chest. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand had moved to the back of his head and she dragged his mouth down to hers. She poured all her love and all her gratitude into the kiss – not only for the movie, not even only for tonight, but for everything he did and everything he was. When their lips separated, she kissed him again. And again.

"Whoa, Hastings!"

She jumped, breaking away from him and feeling her face flush as she identified a few of her fellow seniors at Rosewood High. Her self-consciousness at being caught in such a vulnerable position only increased when she saw Andrew Campbell amongst them.

In true Hastings fashion, her rationale kicked it. She told herself not to be ridiculous and tried her best to shrug off what could only be construed as slight embarrassment. So what if her classmates had just witnessed just how much she loved her boyfriend? It wasn't anything she was ashamed of. Quite the contrary – her ability to love him with such abandon was one of the things she liked most about herself.

So she played it cool. "Hey, guys. How's it going?"

They mumbled something back, and then dispersed across the theater. Apparently her extremely public display of affection with Toby Cavanaugh was no longer interesting if she didn't demonstrate at least the slightest bit of discomfort over it. She nodded a greeting at Andrew as he passed her, noting how his responding smile was a little tight.

She quickly turned to Toby, hoping he wouldn't notice. "Come on."

He watched her as she tugged on his fingers, leading them down the hall. If she thought he hadn't caught the look in that Campbell kid's eye when he looked at her, she must think he was blind. It was a combination of wistfulness, desire and jealousy – something Toby had seen in more guys than he was comfortable with when they eyed his girlfriend (even if she was oblivious to it half the time). It left him slightly uneasy, though he supposed he should be used to it by now. After all, he'd accepted long ago that he was dating a real looker, who was bound to get unwanted male attention wherever she went. It was hard sometimes, but at the end of the day he told himself he could only be grateful that no one could light up her eyes the way he could. The smile she reserved for him and him alone was unparalleled, and no one knew that better than him.

Half an hour into the movie, he chanced a glance at her. She was gazing at the big screen with that intense look on her face that he adored, too engrossed in the story to pay him any mind. He took advantage of her oblivion to admire every part of her perfectly sculptured face. He decided he really couldn't blame other guys for looking. As long as that was all they did, he would just have to learn to live with it.

He pushed up the armrest between them, wrapping an arm around her and carefully easing her against him. She came without hesitation, leaning against his chest while her eyes never left the screen. After a moment her feet lifted out of her heels and she draped both her endless legs over one of his, her bare feet now dangling at his calves. His free hand ran over the naked skin on her knees and then her thighs, marveling at how it felt like silk underneath is palms. He always felt invincible when she gave herself to him so completely. Like they formed their own little cocoon – just the two of them – and no force in the world was great enough to come in between.

"So what did you think?" Spencer asked when the credits rolled and the lights went back on.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I think we should do this more often."

As much as he wanted to pull on time's limbs and make it stand still, he knew the evening was coming to an end. He drove her home in comfortable silence. She sat closer to him than she usually did, their legs brushing together almost flirtatiously. He walked her up to the house, round back this time, and before he knew it they had spent ten minutes making out in the open doorway.

She was giggling against his lips now, her fingers clasped around his shirt and his hands at her waist.

"Stop laughing in my mouth," he said in mock complaint.

She giggled harder, gently biting down on his lower lip as she squirmed against him. "Then stop tickling me."

"I'm not," he said innocently, making a point to playfully dig his fingers in her sides again while he spoke.

More giggling, and then she pulled him down for an intense, full-blown kiss. He got lost in her taste, in her smell, in the feel of her dainty fingers in his hair.

"Spencer," came a sudden, firm rumble from behind them.

He started and immediately dropped his hands from her hips, feeling caught has he recognized her father's voice. They both turned their heads to find Mr. Hastings standing in the living room, holding his smartphone in one hand.

"Time to say goodnight," he said shortly.

"Okay," was her easygoing response, but she made no move to step away from him. He realized with slight dismay that her hands were still all over him, while his hung awkwardly at his sides.

"I mean it, Spencer," Mr. Hastings went on. "It's late and it's a school night. I'm going to call your mother in Chicago. I want you upstairs by the time I'm done."

He marched away in the direction of his study without another glance at them, and Spencer turned back to Toby, sighing.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

His arms automatically moved around her again. "It's okay. Nothing we're not used to, right?"

She smiled ruefully before their lips met again in a much softer way than the previous times.

"I should go," she murmured when they broke apart, and he could easily detect the regret in her tone. "Their phone calls never last very long…"

As devastating as the thought was of letting go of her, he knew he didn't still want to be here when her father got back. He brushed his lips against her forehead. "I'll call you tomorrow."

She nodded, and he noticed how neither of them made a move to break away. They stood there for a moment, protected from the wind by the other's warmth. Words were not even necessary. Just the feel of her body against his was enough to soothe him into tomorrow.

"This was nice," she finally murmured quietly, her eyes focused on the button on his shirt that her fingers were playing with.

"It was," he agreed, and silence surrounded them for a moment longer.

Then they heard footsteps in the hall, and their moment was broken. They stepped away from each other, and he disappeared into the darkness of the night.

The pillows still smelled like her, Toby noticed as he slid between the sheets. That unique scent that lingered in her hair that he would recognize anywhere. It usually faded from his bed after a day or two, and he wondered for a moment what it be like to live with her. To share a bed every night and breakfast every morning, and be able to kiss in doorways for as long as they pleased.

His cell phone buzzed, and he smiled when he saw the sender was no other than the captor of his thoughts.

Goodnight, my love. Thank you for everything. You make my life so amazing. xx

His heart clenched in his chest as he stared down at her words in awe. She could have anyone she wanted – he was sure of that – and yet, it was always his door she knocked on.

He knew only too well that despite the moment of bliss she had felt tonight, she was going through a rough spot. Alison's comeback was hard for her, and competing with the fickle blonde left her exhausted and weary of life. He would never understand the comparison; he would never grasp why his stunning, clever, radiant girlfriend would feel threatened by someone who barely even knew who she was. But he also knew that this lack of comprehension on his part didn't make it any less real to her.

And so he would just have to try harder. Hold her more; kiss her more. Rub the tension out of her shoulders. Make it even more clear how amazing he thought she was, and how she was the first thing he thought about in the morning and the last thing before he went to sleep. How even if he lived to be a hundred, he would never again come across anyone who made him feel the way she did.

Toby smiled to himself and started to type a text back. He had absolutely no problem with that.