I hope you guys know how much your comments have made me smile. YOU'RE THE BEST. This is the final bit of the fic, unfortunately, but there's still Draw Your Swords, and you can always feel free to send me prompts on tumblr or twitter (goneawayawhile).

Enjoy!

Spencer wakes up to blinding light hitting her face, and she groans and burrows deeper into the covers. But then she remembers that these aren't her sheets, that this isn't her bed, and she rolls over and tries to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

By the time Quinn walks through the door holding two cups of coffee, Spencer's still squinting against the sunlight. "Since when is there a window there?" she grumbles, drinking in the site of Quinn in an oversized black t-shirt, the collar haphazardly cut into a v-neck.

Quinn laughs and takes a sip from her mug. "I use light-block curtains so it kind of disappears at night, when the lights are off."

"Why aren't they blocking any light right now?" she whines, then glances at Quinn. "And why are you a morning person?"

She smirks. "Betcha didn't see that one coming."

Spencer groans again, curling into a ball and pulling the covers up to her chin. She hears footsteps padding around the bed, then the sound of metal sliding gently against metal, and Spencer opens her eyes to find the room pitch-dark once more. "Thank you," she mumbles into the blankets.

"Good morning," Quinn replies, setting the mugs on the nightstand and slipping under the blankets with her, and their legs automatically tangle together as Spencer breathes in Quinn's scent like it's her oxygen.

"G'morning," she echoes softly, then presses her lips to Quinn's and sighs. "I wish I could absorb caffeine via mouth-to-mouth."

"I mean, you could always just drink the coffee I so generously brought you."

Spencer tastes her again, this time pulling gently at Quinn's bottom lip with her teeth. "I think the bigger issue here is that I can't drink it and kiss you at the same time."

"Life's rough that way," she whispers dryly to Spencer's mouth, "but what am I gonna do with you if you don't have any energy?"

Spencer sighs. "You'll just have to kill me, I guess."

Quinn arches an eyebrow and buries herself in Spencer's neck, dragging her teeth along her pulse point, and Spencer brackets her arms tightly around Quinn's shoulders and tips her head back to give Quinn more room.

"Quinn?" she whispers.

"Mmm," is the response she feels, more than hears, against her throat.

"Can you pass me the coffee?"

Her shoulders sag in exasperation but Spencer definitely hears a quiet laugh; Quinn sits up to grab the mug and Spencer props herself up on her elbow, and when the coffee hits her tongue, she practically moans.

Quinn is studying her face. "You totally thought it was gonna be black coffee."

"Did not."

Quinn takes a sip from her own cup. "Liar," she mutters.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Oh boy," Quinn jokes into her next sip, "here we go."

Spencer shakes her head. "No, it's nothing bad. Just… why do you live in the middle of fucking nowhere?"

"You mean besides the reasons we discussed earlier?"

She nudges Quinn's arm with her head. "I'm serious. Why would you choose paying for a cab every night over living somewhere that's walking distance from where you play?"

Quinn shrugs. "I like not smelling cigarette smoke every time I breathe. And I like not having to interact with drunk, horny douchebags any more than necessary." She wets her lips, and she might be holding back a smirk. "And I can be as loud as I want out here, whether it's playing guitar, or blasting music, or having sex all night."

Spencer swallows. "I suppose those are as good of reasons as any."

"Basically," Quinn continues, taking a long sip of coffee, "there is nothing more punk than living in the middle of fucking nowhere." She finishes off her mug and sets it back on the table. "Now are you ready for some light, or are we gonna stay in the middle ages a bit longer?"

"Okay, fine, but slowly. None of that ripping-off-the-Band-Aid bullshit."

Quinn snorts and gets up from the bed. "I'll be gentle, I promise," she says, heading for the window and slowly pushing one curtain to the side, then the other, until the room is full of light again and Spencer pulls a pillow over her face.

"Oh come on, you're not even trying."

"I changed my mind," she mumbles, not sure if the sound even makes it to Quinn, but then the mattress dips and a pair of legs are straddling her hips, and she peeks out from under the pillow to find Quinn giving her an amused look. Quinn reaches up to scratch the back of her neck, and for the first time, Spencer can finally read the tattoo on her wrist.

BETH

"Ex-girlfriend?" she guesses, hoping her tone sounds as light as she intends it to.

Quinn looks confused at first. "What…?" she asks, maybe more to herself, but then her eyes follow Spencer's and her jaw muscles clench a little. She lowers her hands to her lap and traces the name with the pad of her thumb before glancing at Spencer again. "Daughter, actually," she says quietly.

Spencer switches positions so her head is on top of the pillow now, trying to discern whether Quinn is upset, but then Quinn smiles a little.

"Betcha didn't see that one coming."

"I mean… no, but it's okay." She feels like she's not saying it the way she wants to, and she props herself on her elbows. "Like, it doesn't matter. If that's something that… you're afraid of, or whatever."

She laughs softly and nods a few times. "Thank you."

Now Spencer sits up all the way, gently gripping a handful of shirt above each of Quinn's hips. "Maybe you could tell me about her, sometime."

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "So, there's gonna be a sometime?"

"I don't know," Spencer mumbles with shrug, and she's having a really hard time not looking at Quinn's mouth. "I guess. If you want."

"Oh, it's my call?"

"I don't know," she nearly snaps, raking a hand through her hair and crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not good at this stuff."

Quinn's trying to fight another smile. "What stuff?"

Spencer just holds her head in her hands and shakes it.

"Are you trying to ask me out?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" she groans without looking up.

"Spencer, last night you got to know my vagina inside and out—repeatedly—and you've spent all morning naked in my bed, and now you're nervous about asking to see me again."

She feels her face flush. "Yeah, that about sums it up." She's about to dig a hole into the mattress so she can disappear forever, but then hands are lifting her head.

"You are such an idiot," Quinn mutters before guiding Spencer's mouth to her own, and the tongue that slides against hers has bolts of electricity shooting all the way down to her toes. "How long do your sleepovers usually last?" Quinn asks into another deep kiss.

"Um—" Spencer begins, but it's really hard to think and speak and make out with Quinn all at once, and if something's going to suffer, it might as well be her grasp of the English language. "Afternoon, maybe?"

Quinn breaks the kiss to slip her shirt off, and Spencer's mouth goes dry.

"Late afternoon," she corrects, trying to ignore the way her voice cracks. "Late, late afternoon."

"Yeah?" Quinn replies, leaning forward until Spencer's on her back, and god, she thinks she really loves this mattress.

Spencer nods and mumbles a "Mhmm" against her lips, but then she hears her phone chime from inside her pants, wherever they are, and she pauses. "I should check that, in case it's my mom."

"I agree," Quinn says as she rolls off of Spencer. "Wouldn't want her to think you've been murdered by some punk musician who lives in the middle of fucking nowhere."

She rolls her eyes and peers over the edge of the bed, then reaches down to the floor where her phone is peeking out from under her tank top, and opens the message. "It's from Aria. She's asking if I need to be picked up soon." Spencer sends her reply and tosses the phone out of arm's reach, and it takes her a split second to be hovering over Quinn, laying a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck.

"What did you—?" A sharp sigh gets stuck in Quinn's throat. "What did you tell her?"

Spencer leans in so her mouth is right next to Quinn's ear.

"That I'm busy."