The Falling 6/?
-South Of Nowhere
-Spencer/Ashley
-AU (Alternative Universe) story. Angst and smatterings of humor. Christmas/holiday-time themes are present. Spencer POV 99% of the time.
-And right before Spencer Carlin’s world ended, she just wasn’t sure if her answers were as good as she wanted them to be.
-PG 15-ish to possibly light R
Raife Davies stands at the door, a silent sentry - light eyes to match his light hair, so opposite both of his daughters, sticking out against all this expensive mahogany wood in the early morning of Christmas.
He always does this, goes in when the place is quiet and fills out each check by hand and places them in the envelopes - it is his way of keeping the workers happy, keep them coming back year after year.
It is the personal touches that make people loyal, Raife learned that so long ago - it worked on him when he was a wild child and a hot-head… trying to take on the world and save it at the same time…
Others stepped in and cooled me down, helped me see things differently. It is the only reason I have made it this far.
For him, it was a teacher or two - men who gave a damn and steered him in the right direction.
It was his first boss at that old law-firm, who gave him chances when no one else would and knocked him down when he deserved it.
And, for a little while, it was Christine and his family - a world he carved out and that he built, reflected in their eyes whenever he came home from work.
But time takes its toll and hours spent away chip at the foundations you set up… and then you wake up, with a lover and not your wife.
And your wife doesn’t care just so long as you keep her bank account full.
And your children can’t look at you, whether from shame or anger… or so many other things… and you are not sure what happened.
Raife Davies stands at the door to Ashley’s office, sees his daughter on the floor and covered in blankets - the sun beaming in upon her brown hair and making it shine, the dawn stripping away all the harshness from her face and Ashley looks like a child again - peaceful and asleep… and Raife feels it like a knife in his chest.
She spent Christmas here.
Not alone, though, because Raife trails his gaze over to the right and there is a waterfall of blonde hair, so bright… like a halo… and he blinks several times until it dims, until he can see the cut of a woman’s face… until he can see blue eyes staring right at him.
And it startles him, this look from this woman, so much so that he steps back and shuts the door - a soft click in an otherwise empty building.
And he walks with unnerving purpose to his own office, as fast as he can… because he feels like…
I feel like I’ve just been sucker-punched. And I don’t know why.
But he can’t block out distinct sound of footsteps following him, sticking with him all the way to his door.
Raife Davies takes a deep breath and turns around, back to clear blue eyes and disheveled locks of yellow - to a pretty young woman still in her work clothes, bare-foot.
“Must run in the family.”
“…Excuse me…?”
“You are here on Christmas and so is Ashley.”
“Oh, uh… well, I guess so. I like to do the bonuses myself.”
“And that’s what you are going to do right now, hmm? Fill out some checks for all your employees and… then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“After you do this, what next? Go home?”
“Not that it is any of your business, Ms…?”
“Carlin. Spencer Carlin.”
“Ah yes, you assist Chelsea, am I right?”
“Yes. And your daughter.”
“I can see that quite well.”
He watches as this Spencer Carlin rolls her eyes and Raife thinks - for just a moment - that of all the people his daughter has dragged into the fray… the lovers, the dealers, the thieves and the liars… that this one might not be too bad.
“She won three cases, you know.”
“I do.”
“Does she get a bonus?”
Raife laughs just a little and opens his door and walks right in, expecting this Spencer Carlin to follow him. And he is not disappointed.
“No. She is a partner. That is reward enough.”
“Ah yes, what a reward… sleeping on the floor of her office on Christmas Eve… who needs a bonus, right?”
“Okay, Ms. Carlin, let’s cut through the bullshit, shall we? You’ve got some axe to grind… did Ashley complain some to you and now you feel the need to defend her, is that it?”
This Spencer Carlin crosses her arms and glares and it would be amusing - under normal circumstances - but something in Raife’s body keeps saying that this girl isn’t to be trifled with.
At least not too much. I mean, I am Raife Davies. My daughter’s crush of the week can’t steamroll me.
But it is those eyes - like glass, hard and fathomless - and they keep catching Raife off-guard and making him nervous. He can’t look away and he cannot stand to focus on them.
He clears his throat and forces his gaze to the paperwork on his desk.
“Ashley tried to kill herself.”
And the pen doesn’t drop from his hand, but it stops moving.
And the clock keeps on ticking on the wall, but it is seems like seconds last eons.
And when he finally looks up, tears that just won’t fall lingering along his eyes, Spencer Carlin isn’t there.
///
“Hello…?”
“Well, hello to you, too… you little tramp-“
“Raphael, give me the phone.”
“Oh fine.”
“Spencer?”
Gabe’s voice is a mixture of relief and worry and Spencer paces in the bathroom - sending her own edgy glances to her reflection.
“Yea, it’s me.”
“We can take you back up, okay?”
“Wait… what?”
“That’s why you are calling, right?”
“Umm, well this number was in the handbook and I need advice… or something…”
“Look, it appears that your judgment is getting rather clouded - which can happen, I am not blaming you… but I think it would be for the best if you came back and let someone else do this one.”
“…But what about Ashley?”
“Raphael can take care of her.”
“How is that exactly better than me? He’ll just force her to go to a drag show or to listen to Cher all day.”
“Hey! You impudent-“
“Stop this right now, both of you!”
Gabe never speaks in that tone and it hushes them both up quite well.
“Spencer, it can be hard to distinguish yourself from the living this early in your angel-hood. The lines get blurred and you forget why you are there.”
“But I haven’t, okay? It’s just… a minor detour…”
“Spencer…”
“Really. I can save her. I think I am making progress and she is beginning to trust me-“
“Spencer.”
“…What?”
“Why did you call? Be honest.”
And Spencer wants to say… well, everything going through her head, the jumbled mess of longing and sadness and fear and dedication - all of it hinged on this one woman that she didn’t even know when she was alive and would have never met had she kept on living.
New York didn’t have an Ashley Davies. New York didn’t give her this Christmas spent in an office with a beautiful woman. New York didn’t ever offer anything as wonderful and heart-breaking as this situation and the woman attached to it.
“I just… I want this to all work out… for everyone.”
“You should come back and you know it.”
“No. I don’t know that at all.”
“Yes you do.”
But… I can’t… Gabe, don’t you see? I am already falling so fast and so hard and I can’t stop it. And I don’t want to.
“Even if you stay and even if you save her, you will still have to leave, Spencer. You are dead.”
“I… I know, I do know that…”
“I can’t make you return.”
“What about… you know… him?”
“He doesn’t deal with such trivial matters. There are miracles to perform all across the world at this time of year and His hands are full. This, ultimately, is up to you.”
Well, then, if it’s up to me…
And she knows it is wrong, if not her feelings then acting on them in such a way - how will she ever explain what she is when it is time to take flight and leave Ashley behind? What will it do to the woman? What will it do to me?
There is heartache to be had and Spencer knows she just bought this one-way ticket to that feeling… but the journey is all she can see, down this hallway and back to that office and a sleeping Ashley Davies.
And so Spencer lies back down and wraps her arms about the woman, pleased when lips sleepily brush against her jaw and Ashley returns this embrace and the whole room is aglow.
The Christmas music still plays softly in the distance and Spencer holds on tighter, pressing a kiss to Ashley’s forehead.
We’ll have to make forever out of days, Ashley. And I am going to save you in the process… I can promise you that…
///
Did you live up to your potential?
In that other life, no, I don’t think so… but now… Now I am the best version of myself. I like who I see looking back at me. Don’t you, too?
///
TBC
-Spencer/Ashley
-AU (Alternative Universe) story. Angst and smatterings of humor. Christmas/holiday-time themes are present. Spencer POV 99% of the time.
-And right before Spencer Carlin’s world ended, she just wasn’t sure if her answers were as good as she wanted them to be.
-PG 15-ish to possibly light R
Raife Davies stands at the door, a silent sentry - light eyes to match his light hair, so opposite both of his daughters, sticking out against all this expensive mahogany wood in the early morning of Christmas.
He always does this, goes in when the place is quiet and fills out each check by hand and places them in the envelopes - it is his way of keeping the workers happy, keep them coming back year after year.
It is the personal touches that make people loyal, Raife learned that so long ago - it worked on him when he was a wild child and a hot-head… trying to take on the world and save it at the same time…
Others stepped in and cooled me down, helped me see things differently. It is the only reason I have made it this far.
For him, it was a teacher or two - men who gave a damn and steered him in the right direction.
It was his first boss at that old law-firm, who gave him chances when no one else would and knocked him down when he deserved it.
And, for a little while, it was Christine and his family - a world he carved out and that he built, reflected in their eyes whenever he came home from work.
But time takes its toll and hours spent away chip at the foundations you set up… and then you wake up, with a lover and not your wife.
And your wife doesn’t care just so long as you keep her bank account full.
And your children can’t look at you, whether from shame or anger… or so many other things… and you are not sure what happened.
Raife Davies stands at the door to Ashley’s office, sees his daughter on the floor and covered in blankets - the sun beaming in upon her brown hair and making it shine, the dawn stripping away all the harshness from her face and Ashley looks like a child again - peaceful and asleep… and Raife feels it like a knife in his chest.
She spent Christmas here.
Not alone, though, because Raife trails his gaze over to the right and there is a waterfall of blonde hair, so bright… like a halo… and he blinks several times until it dims, until he can see the cut of a woman’s face… until he can see blue eyes staring right at him.
And it startles him, this look from this woman, so much so that he steps back and shuts the door - a soft click in an otherwise empty building.
And he walks with unnerving purpose to his own office, as fast as he can… because he feels like…
I feel like I’ve just been sucker-punched. And I don’t know why.
But he can’t block out distinct sound of footsteps following him, sticking with him all the way to his door.
Raife Davies takes a deep breath and turns around, back to clear blue eyes and disheveled locks of yellow - to a pretty young woman still in her work clothes, bare-foot.
“Must run in the family.”
“…Excuse me…?”
“You are here on Christmas and so is Ashley.”
“Oh, uh… well, I guess so. I like to do the bonuses myself.”
“And that’s what you are going to do right now, hmm? Fill out some checks for all your employees and… then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“After you do this, what next? Go home?”
“Not that it is any of your business, Ms…?”
“Carlin. Spencer Carlin.”
“Ah yes, you assist Chelsea, am I right?”
“Yes. And your daughter.”
“I can see that quite well.”
He watches as this Spencer Carlin rolls her eyes and Raife thinks - for just a moment - that of all the people his daughter has dragged into the fray… the lovers, the dealers, the thieves and the liars… that this one might not be too bad.
“She won three cases, you know.”
“I do.”
“Does she get a bonus?”
Raife laughs just a little and opens his door and walks right in, expecting this Spencer Carlin to follow him. And he is not disappointed.
“No. She is a partner. That is reward enough.”
“Ah yes, what a reward… sleeping on the floor of her office on Christmas Eve… who needs a bonus, right?”
“Okay, Ms. Carlin, let’s cut through the bullshit, shall we? You’ve got some axe to grind… did Ashley complain some to you and now you feel the need to defend her, is that it?”
This Spencer Carlin crosses her arms and glares and it would be amusing - under normal circumstances - but something in Raife’s body keeps saying that this girl isn’t to be trifled with.
At least not too much. I mean, I am Raife Davies. My daughter’s crush of the week can’t steamroll me.
But it is those eyes - like glass, hard and fathomless - and they keep catching Raife off-guard and making him nervous. He can’t look away and he cannot stand to focus on them.
He clears his throat and forces his gaze to the paperwork on his desk.
“Ashley tried to kill herself.”
And the pen doesn’t drop from his hand, but it stops moving.
And the clock keeps on ticking on the wall, but it is seems like seconds last eons.
And when he finally looks up, tears that just won’t fall lingering along his eyes, Spencer Carlin isn’t there.
///
“Hello…?”
“Well, hello to you, too… you little tramp-“
“Raphael, give me the phone.”
“Oh fine.”
“Spencer?”
Gabe’s voice is a mixture of relief and worry and Spencer paces in the bathroom - sending her own edgy glances to her reflection.
“Yea, it’s me.”
“We can take you back up, okay?”
“Wait… what?”
“That’s why you are calling, right?”
“Umm, well this number was in the handbook and I need advice… or something…”
“Look, it appears that your judgment is getting rather clouded - which can happen, I am not blaming you… but I think it would be for the best if you came back and let someone else do this one.”
“…But what about Ashley?”
“Raphael can take care of her.”
“How is that exactly better than me? He’ll just force her to go to a drag show or to listen to Cher all day.”
“Hey! You impudent-“
“Stop this right now, both of you!”
Gabe never speaks in that tone and it hushes them both up quite well.
“Spencer, it can be hard to distinguish yourself from the living this early in your angel-hood. The lines get blurred and you forget why you are there.”
“But I haven’t, okay? It’s just… a minor detour…”
“Spencer…”
“Really. I can save her. I think I am making progress and she is beginning to trust me-“
“Spencer.”
“…What?”
“Why did you call? Be honest.”
And Spencer wants to say… well, everything going through her head, the jumbled mess of longing and sadness and fear and dedication - all of it hinged on this one woman that she didn’t even know when she was alive and would have never met had she kept on living.
New York didn’t have an Ashley Davies. New York didn’t give her this Christmas spent in an office with a beautiful woman. New York didn’t ever offer anything as wonderful and heart-breaking as this situation and the woman attached to it.
“I just… I want this to all work out… for everyone.”
“You should come back and you know it.”
“No. I don’t know that at all.”
“Yes you do.”
But… I can’t… Gabe, don’t you see? I am already falling so fast and so hard and I can’t stop it. And I don’t want to.
“Even if you stay and even if you save her, you will still have to leave, Spencer. You are dead.”
“I… I know, I do know that…”
“I can’t make you return.”
“What about… you know… him?”
“He doesn’t deal with such trivial matters. There are miracles to perform all across the world at this time of year and His hands are full. This, ultimately, is up to you.”
Well, then, if it’s up to me…
And she knows it is wrong, if not her feelings then acting on them in such a way - how will she ever explain what she is when it is time to take flight and leave Ashley behind? What will it do to the woman? What will it do to me?
There is heartache to be had and Spencer knows she just bought this one-way ticket to that feeling… but the journey is all she can see, down this hallway and back to that office and a sleeping Ashley Davies.
And so Spencer lies back down and wraps her arms about the woman, pleased when lips sleepily brush against her jaw and Ashley returns this embrace and the whole room is aglow.
The Christmas music still plays softly in the distance and Spencer holds on tighter, pressing a kiss to Ashley’s forehead.
We’ll have to make forever out of days, Ashley. And I am going to save you in the process… I can promise you that…
///
Did you live up to your potential?
In that other life, no, I don’t think so… but now… Now I am the best version of myself. I like who I see looking back at me. Don’t you, too?
///
TBC