Into the Morning

By JewWitch

Summary: This story is a follow-up to my one-shot futurefic, "My Family Essay by Jackson Carlin-Davies." I just couldn't get Ashley on tour out of my head...then she started singing and, well, it was all over! This is a first for me-- having two stories going at once (the other is Really)-- so I hope y'all appreciate it!

Note: Ashley's song "Into the Morning" is actually by The Weekend; but I did change the words a tiny bit to fit our girls even better :)

Rating: T for language

"Anybody want another glass of wine?" Spencer called over her shoulder.

"I'll take one," Kyla said with a smile. "Want a hand?"

"Nah," Spencer waved her off, "I got it." Padding into the spacious kitchen, Spencer poured out two glasses of Pinot Grigio, taking a sip from one. She glanced automatically around the room, leaning back against the marble countertop, her eyes resting on a large watercolor painting of an octopus that her son had brought home proudly just that day, and which had immediately found a place of honor on the refrigerator. Moonlight from the large bay windows illuminated the masterpiece, glittering slightly from the gold sparkles he'd mixed into the paint.

"Spence, come on!" Glen's voice called from the living room. "She's coming on!" Coming out of her reverie on her son's artistic genius, Spencer grabbed the two glasses and headed back to where her friends were gathered around her almost garishly-huge flat-screen TV.

"Here you go, Ky," she smiled, handing over the second glass of wine as she sat next to her sister-in-law.

"Thanks," Kyla smiled back. Then both of them turned their attention to the TV, where, on a stage somewhere in London (and thanks to Pay-Per-View Live OnDemand), Ashley was at that moment walking onto the screen to tumultuous applause. She wore a simple ensemble that still managed to be incredibly hot (then again, Spencer thought with a blush, when didn't her wife look incredibly hot?): a plain white men's tank top (usually called a wifebeater, though Ashley absolutely hated the term and refused to say it) with a pair of old, torn jeans held up with a black leather belt. She had a bright red streak in her long brown hair, which flowed loose over her shoulders, and her guitar dangled loosely from her back. Spencer sighed, totally transfixed, eyes glued to the screen.

"Girl, how do you do that?" Madison demanded, cocking her head at Spencer incredulously.

"What?" Spencer blinked, tearing her eyes away from the screen momentarily.

"Don't give me what! You've been married ten years, and you still look at her like you did in high school!" Spencer grinned shyly, ducking her head.

"Wait," Glen held up his hand, looking at his wife with an overdone expression of incredulity. "Are you saying I don't look at you like that anymore, Mad?" She smacked his shoulder, and he tickled her until she shrieked with laughter.

"Okay, Papi, you win!" She gasped through her laughter, and he finally released her, throwing one arm around her shoulders as she leaned into him, still shaking with giggles.

"That's right. I'm Papi." He looked around the room, at his wife, sister, and two sisters-in-law. "I guess that's not saying much in this room, huh?"

"Shh! Will you guys be quiet?" Spencer shushed them, her eyes back on Ashley's form on the screen, already halfway through her opening number.

"Like you don't have all her songs memorized anyway," Chelsea teased.

"Nu-uh!" Spencer whined, feeling suddenly extremely adolescent, an inclination exacerbated by the fact that everyone in the room had known her since high school. "I told you, she's playing some secret new song tonight...that she wrote for me." For the second time in less than ten minutes, Spencer felt her cheeks flush.

"Mija, that girl is one lucky rock star," Madison grinned.

"Mama?" They all looked up to see Spencer and Ashley's seven-year-old son standing in the doorway, trailing his worn-out stuffed monkey by one leg and looking pale and sleepy.

"Jacksie, what are you doing up?" Spencer asked gently, pushing herself up off the couch and gathering her son into her arms.

"I had a bad dream," he mumbled, his voice muffled in her hair. "I miss Mommy."

"I know you do, baby," Spencer said soothingly, sitting back down between Kyla and Chelsea. "I do, too." She kissed the top of his head, allowing him to settle into her lap with his head nestled into the crook of her arm.

"Can I watch the concert with you?" He asked, blinking his large brown eyes up at her. "Please, Mama?" Spencer knew on some level that it was irrational, because Jackson and Ashley didn't actually share any genetic material; but still, when her son looked at her, sometimes she saw Ashley's eyes staring back into her own.

"Just for a few minutes," She agreed, and he snuggled contentedly into her arms. Madison caught her eye, and smiled that knowing, mother-to-mother smile.

"Honey, is your cousin still asleep up there?"

"Yah," Jackson nodded. As an afterthought, he added, "She snores really loud."

"Well we all know who's fault that is," Madison said with a wry grin at her husband.

"Hey, I do not snore," Glen proclaimed, affronted.

"Keep telling yourself that, Querido," she smirked. Spencer let Jackson stay up for three more songs, then rose to return him to bed. Jackson went willingly, but insisted on calling Ashley's cell to leave a goodnight message first. She brought him into the kitchen and allowed him to dial the number he knew by heart, then led him back upstairs. He hadn't been lying about Ana's snoring, either; Spencer decided to allow Jack to go back to sleep in her bed, knowing she could easily move him back to his own room once she was ready to go to bed herself. She put on his favorite bedtime CD of songs Ashley had recorded especially for him in the studio, and left him peacefully cuddling his monkey as his eyes drooped, and finally closed.

"Did I miss anything?" Spencer asked anxiously as she dropped back onto the couch.

"Nothing we haven't heard before," Kyla assured her, knowing Spencer was waiting for her "secret song." Gratified, Spencer leaned back into the cushions, absently sipping her wine as her eyes followed Ashley's body leaning into the microphone. This was a familiar song, and Spencer's lips moved automatically along with the lyrics. Everyone noticed this, though they all refrained from commenting and merely grinned at her. At the end of the song, the audience erupted into wild applause.

"Thank you!" Ashley said huskily into the microphone, waving out into the crowd with a wide, sexy grin. "Thank you so much!" When the screaming had finally died down, Ashley cleared her throat and looked directly into the camera. Spencer felt her breath catch in her chest. This is it, she thought fleetingly, sitting up a little straighter on the couch.

"This is a new song," Ashley informed the crowd, her voice echoing through the PA system. "I, um, wrote this one for the light of my life...the mother of my children...for our tenth wedding anniversary." Her eyes sparkled, and Spencer gazed into them as if Ashley were right here in front of her, not five thousand miles away on the TV screen. She barely registered the crowd's screams of enthusiasm, wondering vaguely in the back of her mind how her wife managed to be such a badass rock star, and still somehow achieve a level of sweetness that left her a complete pile of mush. "It's about when we were in high school...it's called, Into the Morning." The crowd was going berserk as Ashley began to play the first few chords. "Happy anniversary, Spencer baby," she grinned into the mic, then began to sing.

Thinking of you - yeah, I'll think of you all day -

think of your kiss kissing my lips... I'll remember this always.

Got the goofiest grin - got a big smile on my face -

hey you, let's get out of this place...

grab my hand, let's go. Say it's young love at it's best,

and I tell you I'll remember:
Breaking you out through your bedroom window,

yeah I'm breaking you out of your parents' house,

staying out all night and

into the morning

into the morning

until the sun comes up, and ruins it all.
Monday morning's first class - ditch it! - we'll hang out in the parking lot...
Only the two of us
We'll make out till the stars come out -

lay and watch them -

that one looks just like the one in your eyes...

c'mon grab my hand and let's go...
drinking peach schnapps and hanging out in our underwear...

going to parties and leaving because there's no one there...

skipping our classes cause really we don't even care about anything at all...

we'll get tattoos that we swear we'll never hate...

break the rules and stay out way too late...

ain't life grand, isn't it great having no care in the world?
It was young love at it's best, and it's you that I'll remember...

Breaking you out through your bedroom window,

yeah I'm breaking you out of your parents' house,

staying out all night and

into the morning

into the morning

into the morning..."

The crowd was beside itself. Spencer dimly realized that she had tears streaming down her face, and she hastily moved to wipe them away. Chelsea noticed, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a commiserating grin.

"Girl, that is one lucky rock star," she echoed Madison, giving Spencer a squeeze.

"I think my heart is going to explode," Spencer half-laughed, half-cried, leaning into Chelsea's arm as her entire body trembled.

"It seems like such a long time ago now," Kyla mused, leaning back and sipping her wine reflectively. "I totally remember the note she left me that night, too: Ky-- gone to rescue Rapunzel from the tower! Call U when we're safe. Love, your sister the prince." They all laughed, remembering their youthful exploits with the satisfaction of life well lived.

"Spencer?"

"Hmm?" Spencer glanced over at her brother, still flushed with love and longing and a little too much wine.

"You don't actually have a tattoo...do you?"

"Huh?" Spencer felt the heightened blush in her cheeks rapidly draining.

"In the song...she said, we'll get tattoos we swear we'll never hate. I know Ashley has one, that S inside her wrist...but..." he almost looked as if he didn't want to know.

"Actually..." Spencer glanced around, as they all looked at her with great interest. "I, um...I have one too, yeah, an A." Glen wolf-whistled.

"I can't believe my little sister has a tattoo, and I never knew! Well, c'mon." He blinked at her expectantly.

"Come on, what?" Spencer blinked back innocently.

"Whip it out, that's what!" Glen demanded. Spencer snorted with laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"I don't think so, Glen," she chuckled.

"Why not?" Glen demanded.

"Because it's somewhere private, dumbass." Glen looked like he might be sick.

"Awww, man! Thanks a lot, Spencer, I think I'm gonna hurl," he moaned.

"You brought it up," Spencer shrugged, still grinning goofily as the lyrics to Ashley's new song floated through her head. We'll make out till the stars come out - lay and watch them - that one looks just like the one in your eyes...c'mon grab my hand and let's go...

I'll follow you anywhere, baby, Spencer thought, her eyes drifting back to the beautiful girl playing her guitar on the screen.

The wild applause were still reverberating in Ashley's chest as she left the stage, drenched in sweat, adrenalin pumping through her like wildfire. She always felt this way after a show; and yet tonight, if it were possible, she felt it even more. She hoped Spencer had been watching...she'd told her to watch, told her she was singing a new song for her tonight, but from the other side of the Atlantic, nothing felt a hundred percent certain. She hated leaving Spencer and the kids behind when she went on tour, but to be apart for their tenth anniversary...well, she'd known she needed to do something big to make up for that. And she had. At least, she hoped she had.

"Hey Ash, tight set tonight!" her manager, Michelle, called to her as she flounced into the green room and handed her guitar over to a roadie.

"Thanks, 'Chelle," Ashley grinned, her pulse still thrumming wildly as she pulled her hair, damp with sweat, back into a ponytail.

"You coming out with the crew tonight? We got the scoop on a happening after-hours." Ashley stood at the couch, rooting through her bag until her fingers found her new iPhone. Immediately her face broke into a huge grin, as her eyes fell on the screen to reveal both a text and a voicemail from home.

"I'll catch up with you," she said absently, wandering into her private dressing room and flopping down on an even larger and more comfortable couch than the one in the green room. She opened the text message first: omg. love you love you love you. S ;) Grinning, she flipped the phone open to listen to her voicemail, sprawling out on the couch with one foot dangling over the arm. She was surprised, and only fleetingly disappointed, to hear her son's voice coming through the receiver rather than her wife's.

"Hi Mommy!" Ashley quickly did the time-zone math in her head, trying to figure out how late her son had stayed up to make this call. "Don't be mad I'm up," he said immediately, displaying his usual knack for intuitive pre-emption. "I was asleep, but Ana's staying over and she was snoring and I woke up, and I missed you too much to go back to sleep." Ashley's heart melted. "So Mama said I could call you to say goodnight. Everybody's here watching you play. Auntie Kyla and Auntie Chelsea and Uncle Glen and Auntie Madison. And Mama let me watch a little too. You played good tonight, Mommy. But I'm glad you're coming home soon. We miss you. Especially Mama misses you. She cries a lot at night when you're not here." Ashley's heart suddenly re-solidified, and twisted into a sharp bundle of ache. "...I know it's okay to cry when you're sad," Jackson continued, with the quintessential boldness of young children, "but I still think you should call when you're done playing, okay? Tell Mama you love her and you miss her and you can't wait to come home again, okay? Then she won't be sad. Goodnight, Mommy-- I love you!" Ashley saved the message, resting the phone against her chest for a moment, eyes closed. Then she hit the speed-dial.

"Hey rock star," the warm voice on the other end purred, flooding Ashley's entire body with a fresh surge of adrenalin even better than the one she came off stage with.

"Hey beautiful," she hummed back happily. "Did you like your present?"

"Baby, it was...it was just..." Ashley's chest constricted as she realized Spencer was crying. "I loved it."

"I love you," Ashley said simply.

"Oh, Ash, I love you too...God I miss you so much..."

"I miss you too, baby...every fucking minute."

"God it's so hard to be away from you..." Ashley could hear the hitch in Spencer's breathing, knew she was trying to control her emotions, and the ache in her heart redoubled.

"Why don't you come spend a week in Europe with me, Spence? For our anniversary? We'll be in Paris tomorrow, and then Amsterdam...we could stay in that little hotel by the Picasso Museum with the croissants you love..."

"Oh, baby, don't tempt me," Spencer sighed wistfully.

"It's my job to tempt you," Ashley replied wickedly. "Come on, you haven't taken any vacation days yet this year, I know you've got the time coming..."

"It's not that, it's just-- everything, the kids-- I can't just up and take off. Jacks can't miss a week of school."

"So let Chelsea take them," Ashley said firmly, "like she's been offering to do forever...lord knows we took Clay off her hands enough when he was little."

"I don't know, Ash..."

"Thinking of you - yeah, I'll think of you all day," Ashley sang quietly into the receiver, grinning devilishly. "Think of your kiss kissing my lips... I'll remember this always..."

"Okay," Spencer cut in.

"Okay what?" Ashley teased.

"Okay, I'll meet you in Paris," Spencer laughed. "...In the morning."