The Falling 2/?
-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
For just a moment, those minuscule seconds of time when one opens their eyes and forgets to throw the walls up to the outside world, Ashley Davies looks unbearably human.
A little bit like a child - wounded and terrified - all of it caught in her dazed fluttering of eyelids and in the innocent dilation of pupils.
And Spencer’s breath gets caught in her throat.
But it is a swift kind of thing and then Ashley is bolting upright, pushing Spencer until she hits the floor and is sprawled on her ass - watching as Ashley flees the office and leaves the building and doesn’t spare a single look back at the person who just saved her from a quite painful demise.
Spencer looks at her watch and it is midnight.
She used to call this the ‘witching hour’ when she was a kid, thinking of ghost stories and such - allowing her mind to believe that there really were monsters under her bed and begging her parents to get her a nightlight… a tiny beacon to guide me to safety…
And she wonders, idly, if Ashley was ever scared of the dark.
She wonders if Ashley is scared of things that go bump in the night even now, if what she is running from is so bad that death seems like a good idea, if life is truly that bad to live for the woman who seems to have it all.
Her steps are measured to the parking garage as she is filled with these rambling thoughts - of her own childhood, of questions about Ashley’s life, of time and of fear… but a hard voice halts her slow walk, an eerie echo in a mostly-empty space.
“If you tell anyone, I will fire you.”
And Spencer looks at Ashley Davies, wound tight as a drum and glare like a head of thunder, but the smile is growing on Spencer’s face anyway and she can see the confusion seeping out all over Ashley’s stony façade, cracking that wall a little more.
“Your secret is safe with me.” And Spencer taps the side of her nose, grinning and walking to her car with nary another glance spared for Ms. Davies.
“Rule One of Engagement - Gain Trust by Keeping Your Word.”
She might use that book to keep her nice apartment free of bugs, but she really did read it.
And she recalls every line, every suggestion.
And Spencer Carlin is now an angel on a mission - she’ll take any help she can in winning Ashley Davies over.
//
Did you help others? Did you live up to your potential?
I am doing my best, right now… on both fronts. I am aiming pretty high, but it’s worth it… right?
///
Ashley watches her out of the corner of her eye.
Spencer can feel it no matter what is going on - during phone calls or during dictating, at breaks and when passing in the halls - every tick of the clock finds Spencer under surveillance.
And Spencer is watching Ashley, too.
She is monitoring Ashley actions, making sure there will be no more sky-diving to interrupt and sighs in relief every day that Ashley gets in her car instead of rushing the rooftops.
Ashley has kept her voice neutral these days, too. No more snapping whenever Spencer is there to take a letter or drop off a book or sitting down a cup of coffee (black, no sugar… what a serious drink).
Her voice is not warm, oh no, but it is no longer like a kick to the shins either.
Spencer considers this great progress.
Being a novice at this angel business, she isn’t sure just how long she has to ‘save’ Ashley.
Will it be days? Weeks? Possibly years? Is there time limit to the rescuing of one’s soul?
She has not heard a peep from Gabe or Michael - not even Raphael - though she is certain that they are keeping an eye on her.
It’s like the probation period of a criminal sometimes.
Or that is what Spencer relates it to - and that makes her question, for the millionth time, why she was picked to be the one to do this.
I mean, I am not a bad person… but an angel shouldn’t think like that.
It is another late night and Spencer is pushing in files, taking out other files, sorting files and carrying files. It is dull and mindless work. She is humming some nameless tune that is stuck in her head, more for the noise than anything else.
“How did you do it?”
Ashley’s voice is controlled and Spencer turns around, taking in the woman’s bent head and studious attention to whatever document she is writing upon.
“Do… what? Sort your extremely messy file cabinet?”
There is the barest hint of a smirk at the edge of Ashley’s mouth and Spencer takes a step forward, stacks of old cases against her hip.
“That as well. My last assistant couldn’t find her way out of a paper-bag.”
“Well, that’s what all those years of college were for, you know…”
“Rule Two of Engagement - Always Stay Open To the Subject.”
Spencer takes another step, leaning against the doorframe and Ashley leans back from her desk, crossing her arms and tilting her head - if only slightly.
The woman has her glasses on tonight, which is a silent reward for Spencer - she loves a woman in glasses anyway and… on Ashley Davies… it is quite the exquisite look.
“I suppose I should thank you.”
“That depends… what are you thanking me for?”
“Keeping quiet.”
“You asked me to, so I did.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Ashley narrows her gaze and Spencer walks into the office fully, setting her load of paper-work down on Ashley’s desk.
“I can’t make you out, Carlin.”
“What’s to make out? I am your assistant. I am here to… uh, assist you.”
And Ashley Davies smiles then - a real honest to goodness smile at that - and Spencer feels incredibly accomplished. And she smiles back.
And they are smiling at one another, even as Ashley stands up and leans forward and places herself in Spencer’s personal bubble.
“I don’t do this often, so don’t get used to it… but… thanks for what you did, um, up there.”
“…My pleasure.”
Spencer can’t help it, she whispers the words out and she is fixed on Ashley’s eyes in front of her, the shifting of colors - brown and gold - and the tinge of rose to those burnished cheeks, the fullness of that bottom lip…
And if I were not an angel, I’d just lean on in and kiss this woman. This would be breaking a rule I am sure. So, I can’t do that. Nope. Won’t do it. Attractive women mean nothing to me… not at all… I’m an angel and angels don’t do such things…
Ashley reaches out, slow and steady, placing her hand on Spencer’s arm and giving it a squeeze.
Spencer looks at those long fingers and swallows hard, fighting back this sudden wave of want.
“You must be strong.”
“…What?”
“You… pulled me up…”
“I go to the gym. A lot.”
Ashley’s eyes flash and, thankfully, it is in humor and not disbelief. She pulls away and Spencer inhales sharply, glad for the connection to be broken.
Because it is just clouding her head and she cannot afford to be muddled by pretty women.
Or their devastating eyes. Or their nice face.
“Go on home, Carlin. It’s been a long day.”
“You… are heading home, too?”
And Ashley knows what is being asked, Spencer can see it flood the woman’s face and Ashley nods silently.
So, Spencer says good-night and rushes to her apartment and stays up most of the night just so she won’t give in to this temptation of lust.
Because she is an angel.
And an angel shouldn’t think like that. An angel shouldn’t be overwhelmingly attracted to their charge.
Or want to kiss them, want to touch them…
Right?
///
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
For just a moment, those minuscule seconds of time when one opens their eyes and forgets to throw the walls up to the outside world, Ashley Davies looks unbearably human.
A little bit like a child - wounded and terrified - all of it caught in her dazed fluttering of eyelids and in the innocent dilation of pupils.
And Spencer’s breath gets caught in her throat.
But it is a swift kind of thing and then Ashley is bolting upright, pushing Spencer until she hits the floor and is sprawled on her ass - watching as Ashley flees the office and leaves the building and doesn’t spare a single look back at the person who just saved her from a quite painful demise.
Spencer looks at her watch and it is midnight.
She used to call this the ‘witching hour’ when she was a kid, thinking of ghost stories and such - allowing her mind to believe that there really were monsters under her bed and begging her parents to get her a nightlight… a tiny beacon to guide me to safety…
And she wonders, idly, if Ashley was ever scared of the dark.
She wonders if Ashley is scared of things that go bump in the night even now, if what she is running from is so bad that death seems like a good idea, if life is truly that bad to live for the woman who seems to have it all.
Her steps are measured to the parking garage as she is filled with these rambling thoughts - of her own childhood, of questions about Ashley’s life, of time and of fear… but a hard voice halts her slow walk, an eerie echo in a mostly-empty space.
“If you tell anyone, I will fire you.”
And Spencer looks at Ashley Davies, wound tight as a drum and glare like a head of thunder, but the smile is growing on Spencer’s face anyway and she can see the confusion seeping out all over Ashley’s stony façade, cracking that wall a little more.
“Your secret is safe with me.” And Spencer taps the side of her nose, grinning and walking to her car with nary another glance spared for Ms. Davies.
“Rule One of Engagement - Gain Trust by Keeping Your Word.”
She might use that book to keep her nice apartment free of bugs, but she really did read it.
And she recalls every line, every suggestion.
And Spencer Carlin is now an angel on a mission - she’ll take any help she can in winning Ashley Davies over.
//
Did you help others? Did you live up to your potential?
I am doing my best, right now… on both fronts. I am aiming pretty high, but it’s worth it… right?
///
Ashley watches her out of the corner of her eye.
Spencer can feel it no matter what is going on - during phone calls or during dictating, at breaks and when passing in the halls - every tick of the clock finds Spencer under surveillance.
And Spencer is watching Ashley, too.
She is monitoring Ashley actions, making sure there will be no more sky-diving to interrupt and sighs in relief every day that Ashley gets in her car instead of rushing the rooftops.
Ashley has kept her voice neutral these days, too. No more snapping whenever Spencer is there to take a letter or drop off a book or sitting down a cup of coffee (black, no sugar… what a serious drink).
Her voice is not warm, oh no, but it is no longer like a kick to the shins either.
Spencer considers this great progress.
Being a novice at this angel business, she isn’t sure just how long she has to ‘save’ Ashley.
Will it be days? Weeks? Possibly years? Is there time limit to the rescuing of one’s soul?
She has not heard a peep from Gabe or Michael - not even Raphael - though she is certain that they are keeping an eye on her.
It’s like the probation period of a criminal sometimes.
Or that is what Spencer relates it to - and that makes her question, for the millionth time, why she was picked to be the one to do this.
I mean, I am not a bad person… but an angel shouldn’t think like that.
It is another late night and Spencer is pushing in files, taking out other files, sorting files and carrying files. It is dull and mindless work. She is humming some nameless tune that is stuck in her head, more for the noise than anything else.
“How did you do it?”
Ashley’s voice is controlled and Spencer turns around, taking in the woman’s bent head and studious attention to whatever document she is writing upon.
“Do… what? Sort your extremely messy file cabinet?”
There is the barest hint of a smirk at the edge of Ashley’s mouth and Spencer takes a step forward, stacks of old cases against her hip.
“That as well. My last assistant couldn’t find her way out of a paper-bag.”
“Well, that’s what all those years of college were for, you know…”
“Rule Two of Engagement - Always Stay Open To the Subject.”
Spencer takes another step, leaning against the doorframe and Ashley leans back from her desk, crossing her arms and tilting her head - if only slightly.
The woman has her glasses on tonight, which is a silent reward for Spencer - she loves a woman in glasses anyway and… on Ashley Davies… it is quite the exquisite look.
“I suppose I should thank you.”
“That depends… what are you thanking me for?”
“Keeping quiet.”
“You asked me to, so I did.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Ashley narrows her gaze and Spencer walks into the office fully, setting her load of paper-work down on Ashley’s desk.
“I can’t make you out, Carlin.”
“What’s to make out? I am your assistant. I am here to… uh, assist you.”
And Ashley Davies smiles then - a real honest to goodness smile at that - and Spencer feels incredibly accomplished. And she smiles back.
And they are smiling at one another, even as Ashley stands up and leans forward and places herself in Spencer’s personal bubble.
“I don’t do this often, so don’t get used to it… but… thanks for what you did, um, up there.”
“…My pleasure.”
Spencer can’t help it, she whispers the words out and she is fixed on Ashley’s eyes in front of her, the shifting of colors - brown and gold - and the tinge of rose to those burnished cheeks, the fullness of that bottom lip…
And if I were not an angel, I’d just lean on in and kiss this woman. This would be breaking a rule I am sure. So, I can’t do that. Nope. Won’t do it. Attractive women mean nothing to me… not at all… I’m an angel and angels don’t do such things…
Ashley reaches out, slow and steady, placing her hand on Spencer’s arm and giving it a squeeze.
Spencer looks at those long fingers and swallows hard, fighting back this sudden wave of want.
“You must be strong.”
“…What?”
“You… pulled me up…”
“I go to the gym. A lot.”
Ashley’s eyes flash and, thankfully, it is in humor and not disbelief. She pulls away and Spencer inhales sharply, glad for the connection to be broken.
Because it is just clouding her head and she cannot afford to be muddled by pretty women.
Or their devastating eyes. Or their nice face.
“Go on home, Carlin. It’s been a long day.”
“You… are heading home, too?”
And Ashley knows what is being asked, Spencer can see it flood the woman’s face and Ashley nods silently.
So, Spencer says good-night and rushes to her apartment and stays up most of the night just so she won’t give in to this temptation of lust.
Because she is an angel.
And an angel shouldn’t think like that. An angel shouldn’t be overwhelmingly attracted to their charge.
Or want to kiss them, want to touch them…
Right?
///
TBC