AN: Hey, guys! Hope you are all doing well :) These last couple of days I've been posting old prompts that I filled over on my tumblr a few years ago. This one-shot in particular was also originally a part of that batch, but since it's very different I'm giving it its own post. Hope you all enjoy the ride xx
[For some brief context, this is set in an alternate 5 years forward time jump]
They look beautiful, is all Spencer can think as she downs her…fifth? Her fifth glass of champagne.
Coming back to Rosewood, after 5 years away, for Hanna and Caleb's wedding would have been, under any other circumstance, a lovely experience. A weekend of catching up with her best friends all the while celebrating the happiest day of one the girls's life? Spencer wouldn't have come back for anything less.
But as it stands, this entire three day event has been nothing more than an exercise in insecurity and self-loathing.
And it's her own damn fault anyway.
Spencer sees Caleb twirl Hanna as the bride laughs loudly. She feels a smile threatening the corner of her lips, but it only takes one glance across the room to have it disappear again.
Emily and Alison stand talking to Grandma Marin, the older woman having grabbed Alison for a chat and Alison's pleading eyes drawing Emily over to save her from what was probably the woman's blunt and inappropriate questioning into her life.
A waiter walks by and Spencer snatches her sixth glass.
Go big or go home, she decides. Maybe if she's plastered beyond recognition she won't have to remember the ache in her heart tonight.
The ache that's her own damn fault.
Because about two years ago, she decided to redefine what it meant to comfort someone grieving, redefine what it meant to help a college dropout get back on her feet, redefine what it meant to be a best friend, redefine who it meant her heart called home.
And yet, everyone in this room thinks they're just roommates. Talk about not redefining the oldest excuse in the goddamn book.
And it's all her own fucking fault.
Because she slept with Emily while she was mourning her father, because she brought Emily to D.C. after she flunked out of Pepperdine, because they fuck on a regular - exclusive! - basis, yet they haven't told any of their friends about it because.
Because.
Alison DiLaurentis.
Because their bubble is perfect and loving and just far enough away from the black hole that is Rosewood, and Spencer had wanted to keep it that way. Had wanted their relationship to just be, selfishly, theirs. Emily had agreed at first, not needing Hanna's inherited bluntness and inappropriateness invading their tentative relationship or Aria's judging, narrowing, eyes doubting their new place in each other's life. And Spencer especially didn't need Alison's anything touching them.
Because Spencer is drunk enough to admit that she's deeply insecure and painfully jealous whenever she sees Emily and Alison within 10 feet of each other. Because no matter how much Emily has told her about their past, Spencer knows there is more to it. She's seen the looks that hold secret conversations, the casual touches that hold private memories; she's heard the fondness when pronouncing each other's names, heard loud silence when discussing their relationships around each other. Alison and Emily are a whole fucking language that Spencer has desperately tried to learn, and while she has the basics down, she's nowhere near fluent enough to know all the intricacies, nuances, and feelings spoken between the lines of things not spoken between them at all.
It makes her head spin.
Or maybe that's just the champagne.
Regardless, no one knows they're together, her and Emily, because when the wedding invitation came she stupidly made a choice.
"Let's not overshadow Hanna's big day with the gossip of our relationship," she had said as they packed up their suitcases.
"You think the fact that you and I are together is big enough news to steal the spotlight from Hanna?" Emily had asked playfully.
Spencer hated to admit that the amusement in her girlfriend's voice scared her, that it somehow meant that Emily didn't think of them as big enough news at all.
"Of course. It'll be the biggest news in Rosewood since -"
"Since we were the biggest news in Rosewood?"
"Exactly."
So Emily had agreed, and Spencer had pretended that it was all for Hanna's benefit, rather than her shameful truth of not wanting to face the scrutiny of Alison's eyes dissecting their relationship. Seeing how it came up short in comparison to her own with Emily, and then dangling in front of Emily god knows what.
And that makes Spencer truly loathe herself, because stacking her own insecurities and seeing how they measure up against Alison is one thing, but her gut feeling that given the chance of something with Alison against the certainty of everything with Spencer - the possibility that Emily might even slightly hesitate?
It would kill Spencer.
She glances around the room again, spies Aria and her boyfriend Liam making small talk with one of Hanna's friends from New York.
She tries not to, but she's nothing if not a masochist, so she looks across the room again. Grandma Marin is walking away, and Emily and Ali release joint breaths of relief, giggling as they whisper conspiratorially to each other.
Spencer finishes her sixth glass.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would think those two are poised to get back together, don't you think?" Mona Vanderwaal sweetly says as she sidles up to Spencer by the wedding cake.
"Who?" Spencer asks distractedly, as she sees if she can find another waiter.
"Emily and Alison."
Spencer feels her blood run cold.
"I mean, the odds are 50/50 on Alison's mystery man being real. My guess is that she's the mistress, you know," Mona whispers as if they're sharing some juicy town gossip together. "However, if he's just a lie to make sweet little Em jealous, then that's quite the play and I must say, I commend her on it."
Spencer's grip tightens on her empty glass as she continues to look for a damn waiter.
"Then there's the fact that you and Emily are pretending to not be a couple, so I'm wondering if perhaps the two of you actually broke up or are on a break." Spencer turns to face Mona so quickly that, if she were sober enough to contemplate, she'd be surprised she didn't give herself whiplash.
"How did you know -"
"Honey, please. Don't insult me. I know repressed sexual tension when I see it, which is exactly what I'm seeing now between our former Queen Bee and her faithful guard-dog. Emily was always so quick to protect her, huh?" The look in Mona's eyes is dangerous and all too reminiscent of her -A days. Spencer briefly wonders if it has anything to do with what they're all gathered here to celebrate.
Spencer turns to look back at the dancefloor, where Hanna is having a dance with Caleb's father, while Caleb dances with Ashley Marin.
"Anyway, my suggestion? Be bold. Make a move and stake your claim before Alison lures her all the way in," Mona chuckles unexpectedly before continuing, "It's funny. For all her talk of Emily being a mermaid, it's Alison who always lures men and women to their death."
When she doesn't rise to the bait, Mona sighs. Disappointed at Spencer not playing her game, she begins to walk away.
Spencer can't help herself, though.
And she fucking hates herself for it too.
"They were never together."
"What?" Mona asks, curious at the correction, as she stops in her tracks.
"You said that they're poised to get back together. They were never together in the first place."
"Oh honey, they've always been together," she fires back, her words dripping with pity and condescension, "and if you honestly believed what you are saying to me, you wouldn't be keeping your relationship a secret," she ends in a whisper.
Spencer smashes the glass in her hand just as the music changes to something more upbeat. She's only got a cut on her index finger, which she sucks on as she heads across the room.
A pair of blue eyes catch her approaching figure first and raise a curious eyebrow at her. Emily turns and furrows her brow as she sees Spencer slightly stumble toward her.
"You okay? What happened?" she quickly fires off as Spencer reaches her.
"It's nothing, I'm good."
"Spencer, you're bleeding."
"It's just a small cut."
"I'll get the first aid kit," Alison comments as she walks away.
"What is going on, Spence?" Emily asks, her brown eyes filled with love and worry.
Spencer can't help but be vulnerable in return.
"You're all the way over here."
Emily's eyes widen.
"I thought you wanted to keep things quiet -"
"That doesn't mean I wanted you to avoid me the whole night."
"I'm sorry, it's just that Ali -"
"Is Alison," she mirthlessly laughs. Alison will always be Alison and Emily will always -
"Spencer," Emily's eyes narrow.
"What if I kissed you right now?" Spencer posits. A bold choice, making her move, staking her claim. Fuck Mona, she thinks.
Emily shakes her head, "You're drunk and upset."
"What if I kissed you right now?" she asks again, because she needs an answer.
"It's Hanna's big day, she doesn't need this. Plus, Alison will be back any second."
"You're saying those two are on the same level of importance?"
"Spencer."
"What if I kissed you right now?" she desperately pleads.
"Enough."
"What if I kissed you right now?"
"Stop."
"What if I kissed you right now?"
"I don't want you to!" Emily hisses.
It shocks them both into silence, until Alison finally approaches them.
"Here, let me see," Alison speaks as she reaches for Spencer's hand. She gently wipes it and carefully bandages it. The softness in her actions not lost on Spencer, making her hate both Alison and herself even more.
Spencer turns to look at Emily, who's avoiding looking at either one of them as she wipes at the corner of her eyes.
"There," Alison declares. "All done."
"I'm going to take her back to her room. I think she's had a bit too much to drink," Emily interjects before Spencer can even begin to form a coherent thought.
"Need a hand?"
"We're good."
They leave the ballroom and Emily quickly guides Spencer to her room without saying a single word.
Her room, because Spencer insisted on separate bedrooms. What a joke.
It's all her goddamn fault.
Once inside, she sets Spencer on the bed as she goes to pull out some pajamas for her.
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
"I just…I love you."
"And I love you."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you sure as hell are acting like I'm about to go cheat on you."
"Are you?"
Spencer regrets the words the second they're out of her mouth.
Emily's eyes fill with anger and hurt. Before any words can be uttered though, Emily's phone chimes, and she pulls it out of her cleavage.
A text message from Alison DiLaurentis lights up the screen.
[Are you coming back down?]
Emily drops the phone on Spencer's lap.
Spencer looks between the two confused.
"Well? You tell me. Am I going back down there or not?"
Spencer closes her eyes, feels the room spin, feels her insecurities and self-loathing bubble up to the surface, making her feel uncomfortable in her own skin.
She hates every choice that she has made this weekend that has led them to this moment.
She opens her eyes, unlocks Emily's screen and types the answer. She hands the phone back to Emily who glances at the Yes message bubble.
"What if I kissed you right now?" Spencer whispers.
Emily looks between the two and shakes her head.
"You're such an idiot," she says as she crushes their lips together.
The bruising kiss lasts a minute, before the pressure pulls back and Spencer hears the door open again. She keeps her eyes closed.
"I'll be back in a bit."
Spencer nods.
"Spencer."
She opens her eyes and sees Emily with a heartbroken look on her face as she stands in the threshold.
"I love you."
Spencer wonders when she started feeling like those words weren't enough. Probably since they stepped foot in Rosewood.
"I know," Spencer says as a sob crawls its way up her throat. She can't wait 'til they go back home. "I love you too."
"I'll be back in a bit. I promise."
The door quietly shuts behind her.
"I know."
I'm the one I fear the most
Little did I know that I was only crying wolf