AN: This story is completely different from the one I set out to initially write. The original one was a little angsty and dramatic, but after going two entire weeks without any ST scenes, I just needed something happy and fun and romantic. I've really missed them.

This is in two parts, and the second part is about 90% complete, so I won't keep y'all waiting long. I promise!

Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed my last fic. Y'all are so amazing, and I really appreciate it! I hope y'all like this one, too.

A big thanks goes to my friend, Holly, for reading over this for me. And to Courtney for pushing me to go ahead and post this already. And to Andy for her input on how Toby likes his coffee.

Okay, that's all! Oh, and I don't own this world. If I did it would be all ST all the time! Enjoy!

Alone With You

Part 1

Where are you, Toby?

Spencer's head was pressed against the wall next to one of the sets of double doors that lead out to her backyard from the den. She stood impatiently, her foot tapping a sporadic beat against the hardwood floor. One arm was draped across her stomach, the other prying open the natural wooden blinds that covered the window.

No one else was around, her parents having taken off for another weekend in New York and her sister out in the barn. She could see from where she stood the structure's simple a-frame silhouette against the night sky. Light glowed from the windows, Melissa's shadow visible as she moved around inside. It offered Spencer no comfort to know her sister was close by.

Why aren't you here yet?

There was a time, not so long ago, that Spencer hadn't minded being left alone. Furiously independent since the day she had learned to walk, she'd never really felt the need to be constantly surrounded by others. When exactly that had changed, she wasn't sure. Maybe it had started the night Alison had disappeared, or when "A" had sent her first ominous message. It could have been when she found her life flashing before her eyes as she hung from the boards of the bell tower. Or maybe it hadn't been something sinister at all. Perhaps the change had happened the day he had come into her world.

It often surprised her, when she allowed herself to think about it, how much she had come to depend on Toby in such a short amount of time. They'd been enemies of sorts, at least in her misinformed mind, but somehow in the middle of everything falling apart, they'd found each other. She wasn't used to being as vulnerable as she had been around him lately, and though it made her nervous to realize how far she had let him in, she couldn't go back to being on her own. She didn't want to.

Where are you?

Normally she wouldn't have been so desperate for him to arrive, but they hadn't been able to see each other much since he'd started his job in Yardley. Happy and proud as she was for him to be in a place where no one knew his name, and therefore passed no unmerited judgment, she couldn't deny the little pang of longing she'd felt at his absence. Lazy afternoons spent reading and napping seemed like distant memories, and Spencer was yearning to making up for lost time.

Unable to stand still, she turned away from the door, her fingers raking through her hair as she looked around the empty room. Her laptop lay open on the coffee table among pages of notes and colored highlighters, Hemingway and Fitzgerald novels scattered along the sofa. Her Friday evening's main activity had been finishing her AP English essay, a task she had completed an hour ago.

Heaving a sigh, she gathered the books from the couch and the papers from the table into neat stacks, and checking one last time to make sure her work was saved, she closed her laptop with a soft click.

There was a sudden knock behind her, and she swiveled around to see Toby peering at her through a small gap in the blinds. She could finally relax.

You're here…

She rushed to undo the deadbolt, trying to appear casual as she opened the door just wide enough for him to slip inside.

"Hi," she greeted with that lilt in her voice she reserved only for him.

He wound his right arm around her waist, his palm caressing the small of her back as he pulled her closer. Their hips met a moment before his mouth descended on hers, eliciting a grin from each of them. His lips were so soft, she nearly melted. Clutching at the thin cotton fabric covering his shoulders, she moved her lips, parting them against his. His left hand moved to her cheek, while the other remained delightfully in place on her waist, fingers gently fidgeting with the hem of her tank top.

"Hi back," he murmured as he broke away, his forehead resting on hers.

Blushing ever so slightly, she peeled herself away from his arms, ushering him over the threshold. Peering past him into the darkness outside, she noticed that the lights were now off in the barn. Melissa must have decided to turn in for the night.

Perfect.

Spencer locked the doors once again before turning to face him. "I'm glad you're here," she said, taking his hands in hers and swinging them loosely between their bodies. "I've missed you lately."

Toby gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, his eyes warm. "I've missed you, too. I know I've been working a lot. I'm sorry I haven't been around."

"Hey, no apologies, okay? I'm happy for you," she insisted, though she couldn't help but notice the faint purple circles under each of his clear blue eyes. "But you do look really exhausted."

He nodded his head, suppressing a yawn as he dropped down onto the sofa, drawing her into his lap. "Yeah, every day is a long day. I've been pulling double shifts whenever I can."

"Workaholic," she joked.

He rolled his eyes playfully as he reached around her to pick up a book from the stack on the coffee table. "Like you're one to talk. You do all your homework on Friday night."

Spencer scoffed, feigning offense. "I will have you know that it was just one assignment, and I only finished it because someone was running very late."

He laughed to himself and she cuddled into him, tucking her head under his chin. "I'm sorry I was so late," he apologized once more, but before she could argue with him, he spoke again. "What do you feel like doing now that I'm here?"

Spencer pondered this for a moment and realized that she hadn't made any actual plans for the evening, which was so unlike her. She usually planned everything. "I don't know," she said finally, biting her lower lip as she thought. "We could always play Scrabble."

A few moments passed and he didn't answer, so she raised her head to look at him, surprised to find his lips turned up into a mischievous smile, eyes sparkling.

"You really feel like getting your ass kicked again?" he questioned. And it was on.

Her eyebrows arched as her mouth hung agape, that familiar fire igniting within her. How she loved a challenge.

"Excuse me? You won by what? Eight points? That doesn't exactly make you the Master of Scrabble."

She was up now, towering over him, her chestnut hair falling loose around her face. And it seemed to amuse him further, her competitive spirit at something as lighthearted as playing a game with her boyfriend. His grin only widened.

"And in what reality does 'goofball' beat out 'glyceraldehyde'?" she continued, her hand on her hips in an attempt to look intimidating. It clearly wasn't working as he was now nearly laughing.

"Maybe we should just play Monopoly," Toby teased further, and she knew he was enjoying this.

"Well, we could do that. I mean, if you're too tired and you're worried you might lose…"

He chuckled to himself, pausing for a moment as if considering something, then stood up, reaching out with both hands to hook his index fingers through the belt loops of her jeans. Agonizingly slowly, he walked toward her, tugging at her until they were pressed tightly against each other. His face hovered over hers, and she noticed he was still smirking as he leaned in closer.

She prepared herself for the feel of his lips, their conversation already forgotten as she waited for him to kiss her. But his mouth only floated over hers briefly, never quite making contact before placing a series of feathery kisses along her jawbone. She shivered as he ran a hand up her arm, the other now on her back. His mouth halted blissfully close to her ear causing her eyes to flutter shut.

"I'll play with you," he told her in barely more than a whisper. "But I should warn you. I'm very good at this game."

And you apparently don't play fair…

She took a step back, her heart racing. "Challenge accepted," she responded with a flirtatious smile. "I'll get you some coffee."

"Thanks."

She went to the kitchen, grabbing a mug from a cupboard as she passed. She had brewed a fresh pot shortly before he had arrived, and it was still warm. But just as she was about to pour the first drop into his cup, she remembered something.

"Sorry, Spence, but your coffee gives me the shakes." It was Hanna's voice in her head, alerting her to the fact that maybe triple strength, Malaysian dark roast coffee wasn't for everyone.

"Hey, um, are you sure you want this?" she asked, holding the coffee pot in her hand for him to see. "I can make some more. I know my usual blend is a little…bold."

Leaning casually against the island bar, looking better than anyone had a right to in a simple t-shirt and loose fitting jeans, he seemed taken aback by her statement. "I'll admit, your coffee would probably make Cuban espresso taste like water, but I like it. It makes my heart race…just like you do."

She was speechless and smiling, her cheeks flushing so dramatically that she could actually feel the heat.

I really, really love you.

She poured the coffee into the mug, stirring in a smidgen of sugar before handing it over to him, clearing her throat to keep her voice from squeaking at his compliment. "Thanks for coming over. I don't think I could have spent another night in this house alone."

His tone was soft but worried when he spoke, his shoulders drooping at her words. "Spencer, you didn't have to spend any of those nights alone. I would have come whenever you needed me to."

"I know that."

"Then why didn't you tell me until today that your parents have been spending their weekends away, leaving you here by yourself? Why didn't you ask me to be here with you?"

"Because," she said, "I know how important this job is to you, so you can move out of your house and finally have a life. I didn't want to get in the way of that."

A sigh escaped his throat. "Spencer…" he trailed off, nearly groaning with obvious frustration at her reasoning. "I love you. And yeah, this job is important, but I need you to understand something. You mean everything to me. You could never be an imposition."

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "I love you, too. And thank you for saying that, but we both know you can't be here every night. As grown up as we like to think we are, we're still teenagers that live with their parents."

"Not for long."

"Well, for now," she reiterated, crossing her arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter. "What did you tell them to get out of the house tonight?"

He shook his head gently. "Nothing. I just left. They didn't ask."

She smiled at him sadly, knowing full well what it was like to have parents with rules they didn't care enough to enforce. "Well, I'm happy you're here."

"I am, too."

After a moment's pause, still standing in the middle of the kitchen, he grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's go have that rematch."

Her eyes lit up as she allowed herself to be whisked away. "Oh, you are so going down."