A/N: Hey guys! So is it me or has the world of Spoby fanfiction been slacking recently? I feel like it has so I decided to go ahead and post this oneshot. I wrote the first part of it months ago (literally, like, September) but I really wanted to write a second part even though it could have been a stand alone, and then I got distracted by other fic and life in general and yeah… I'm sure you all know how that goes.

It's a bit of a different setting from anything I've ever written before, so I'm hoping you guys will like it. This is not a Christmas story but still… Happy Holidays! :)

Genesis

Lunchtime was one of Toby Cavanaugh's favorite times of the day, though not for reasons that were characteristic of most second graders. The cafeteria was filled with noisy, happy kids who were excited to socialize with their friends while they consumed their much-needed nourishment. It was the collective peak for most of his classmates, but Toby found that by the time lunch rolled around, he craved a moment of quiet. A moment where he didn't have to talk to anyone, didn't have to listen and could just let his mind wander as he processed what the day had brought with it so far.

He liked school. He really did. He enjoyed reading and writing and learning about different animals and countries. His favorite subject by far was art, and not only because of the pretty teacher who let him do his thing and repeatedly told him he was special.

He got along with his classmates too, for the most part. A majority was very nice. But by lunchtime, Toby more often than not preferred to eat by himself. It worried him sometimes, because it made him feel different when he looked at all the laughing kids around him; but the truth was that he wouldn't give up these moments of peace for anything in the world.

Today, he settled under his favorite tree like he usually did, peering inside his lunch box. His mother had made him two sandwiches, as usual – one tuna and one peanut butter and jelly – and had also packed him an apple and a rather large cookie. She had written him a note too, like she typically did, taped to the apple this time.

Hope you're having a terrific day, little man. You are always in my heart. Love, Mom.

Toby smiled a little as he read the words. His mom knew that lunchtime was a private moment for him, and she always knew what to say to make him feel a little bit less alone.

He was about to bite into the red, juicy apple when he was distracted by a sniffling sound, so hushed that he would have missed it had it not been eerily still around him. His gaze lifted to find a small girl standing a few feet away, leaning against the tree next to his, her face in her arms. She had long legs for her tiny figure, and dark, silky hair that was braided all the way down her back.

Her shoulders shook and when Toby heard another sniffle, louder this time, he realized with distress that she was crying.

He went back and forth on what to do for a moment. He knew what his mom would want him to do. She was always encouraging him to lend a hand to people in need, and she also liked when he made new friends. But Toby always privately felt that this was easier said than done. Sometime he suspected his mom knew it was harder for him than for most other kids.

Briefly he debated going to get a teacher, but before he'd made up his mind the girl took a step away from the tree, wiping her face with her hands and straightening out her blue and white striped dress. Toby did a double take when recognition settled into him.

It was Spencer Hastings. The Spencer Hastings that had always scared him a little, even though she was a grade under him and quite a bit shorter. She seemed very confident, very sure of herself and what she wanted, and even though he had never seen her be cruel to anyone, something about the way she held herself made him nervous.

She obviously hadn't known he was there because she started violently when she spotted him, and he saw something harden in her face almost imperceptively.

"What are you looking at?" she said crossly with her hands on her hips, and he jumped.

"Nothing," he mumbled quickly, lowering his gaze and trying not to blush furiously.

He expected her to storm off, but in the corner of his eye he saw how she remained rooted in her spot, taking a deep breath and rubbing her eyes. He chanced a closer look at her, and it hit him that her fierceness was all just an act. She didn't want to go back inside because she was still fighting off tears.

He would never know what possessed him to say, "You can cry if you want. I don't care."

She looked at him in surprise – shock almost, as if she had forgotten he was even there. He stared back, more than a little apprehensive of her reaction but trying not to let it show.

He had never seen this side of Spencer Hastings before. She had always seemed tough and invincible, but now as he looked into her red-rimmed eyes he felt a sharp sting of sympathy in his heart.

Just when he was nearly certain she would snap at him again, she did the unthinkable. She came over and sat down next to him, crossing her legs Indian-style and tugging the skirt of her dress over her scabby knees.

Toby immediately felt uncomfortable. He hadn't liked watching her cry, but that didn't mean he was at ease with her inviting herself into his personal space during his private time. He wasn't good at making conversation with people he didn't know. It seemed that other kids always overestimated his social skills, and she was setting the both of them up for disappointment.

She didn't appear to be fazed by his silence though. She simply sat next to him and stared ahead until Toby was the one who grew uneasy under the silence.

"Where's your lunch?" he asked, desperate to prove that he was capable of some form of basic small talk.

Apparently he'd said the complete wrong thing because she tensed noticeably, anger once again visible in her dark brown eyes. Toby cringed and braced himself as he prepared for her yell at him again.

However, after a moment her shoulders simply sagged and she used a few of her little fingers to fiddle with the grass in front of her.

"I can't buy any," she mumbled. "Kendra Santoni took my lunch money."

Toby's heart hurt a little to hear this. Kendra Santoni was a fourth grader and a notorious bully. She usually went after girls, all of them significantly younger than her, so Toby had so far been free of her wrath; but that didn't mean she didn't terrify him on an almost daily basis when he saw what she did to others.

Suddenly the cause of Spencer's tears earlier was only too clear. He never would have thought someone like her would fall victim to this kind of thing, but over the last five minutes he had come to realize that Spencer Hastings wasn't quite what she appeared to be.

"You should tell a teacher," he told her, because he felt confident that it was what his mom would say.

But Spencer just shook her head. "I can't," she said miserably. "They'll call my parents, and last time my mom threatened to sue the school if it happened again."

"Oh," was all Toby could think of to add to that. Spencer seemed to deem this an acceptable response, though, because she simply nodded, still looking disheartened.

He hesitated for a moment; then did the only thing he could think of to make the situation better. He held out both his sandwiches. "Tuna or peanut butter and jelly?"

Her eyes lifted to his in surprise, and for a moment he expected her to laugh at him, sneer that he was gross and she wouldn't touch his sandwiches with a ten-foot pole. But then a timid sort of smile washed over her face, like she wasn't getting the punch line of a joke. "Really?"

He nodded, and she slowly reached for the peanut butter and jelly. "Thanks, Toby," she murmured quietly, and he nearly had a heart attack.

He never expected her to know his name. Sure, he knew hers, but she was Spencer Hastings. Everyone knew her. He, on the other hand, was the kind of kid that got lost in a crowd.

She seemed unfazed, though. In fact, it was as if him handing over the sandwich had broken down the last of her self-protective walls. She was chatting non-stop now with her mouth full; about the book she was reading, about her class field trip and about her favorite horse, Pilgrim. Toby simply listened, content to hear her talk, but when she paused her rambles to swallow down a chunk of sandwich he felt his cheeks turn pick with slight embarrassment.

"Sorry," he was quick to tell her. "My mom always uses too much peanut butter. I've told her it makes it hard to swallow but she always forgets."

Spencer shook her head quickly, and if he wasn't mistaken he saw something not unlike triumph in her dark, expressive eyes when she'd finally gulped down her mouthful.

"That's okay, this is really good," she said conversationally. Then she hesitated a moment before asking cautiously, "Does your mom make you lunch every day?"

He nodded. "She always makes me two sandwiches, plus something healthy, plus dessert." He grinned, holding up the apple and the cookie.

Spencer grinned back, but he could detect something wistful in the tone of her voice when she told him, "I wish my mom made my lunch. She says she doesn't have time because she has to go to work super early, so she gives me money to buy lunch instead. Sometimes she forgets and my nanny will make me lunch, but I hate that because she always puts mustard on my sandwiches and I hate mustard."

She wrinkled her nose in obvious distaste, and Toby had to smile. They split the cookie, with Spencer asking what kind it was (oatmeal butterscotch) and if his mother had made it herself (yes, but Toby had helped quite a bit). Soon the apple was the last bit of subsistence that lay between them, and they both scratched their heads on how to evenly split it without a knife. Even Spencer – who seemed to know the answer to everything, Toby thought – seemed stumped.

But suddenly her eyes brightened. "I know! We'll take turns biting from opposite ends!"

Before he even had time to process her idea, she grabbed the apple and took a huge bite out of one side. Then she offered it to him, turning the untouched surface towards his face. He took a bite out of it, then handed it back to her, thinking she had to be the smartest kid in school.

She sunk her teeth into her side of the apple again, her mouth full as she explained, "This way we won't catch each other's germs."

Toby nodded in agreement, feeling less self-conscious than he would with most other people when he spoke quietly with a shy kind of amusement. "Otherwise it'd be kind of like… kind of like kissing."

Spencer threw her head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. He didn't take offense, though. He knew she wasn't making fun of him.

"Gross!" She made a face. "We definitely don't want that."

He smiled and nodded his head, thinking that he liked the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. "We really, really don't."

They passed the piece of fruit between them until the playground started to fill up with other children. But Spencer didn't leave him to go play with her friends like he'd thought she would. They went to work trying to catch grasshoppers – her idea, and Toby was impressed because she seemed to be full of good ideas – and by the time the bell rang they were still empty-handed, but Toby felt excited to report to his mother that he'd finally found something he preferred to finding a quiet corner and reading a book.

It had been unbearably hot inside his loft ever since the air conditioning gave out two days ago, so Toby was more than happy feel the soft, late morning spring breeze in his face as he stepped outside to go pick up his girlfriend. In true Spencer fashion, she had texted him an hour ago that she was not at her own house but at Hanna's, and he'd felt the first taste of dread at the thought that she might cancel on him.

But when he'd texted back asking if she wanted to reschedule, she'd sent him a clear and concise message that there was no way they weren't doing this today, and he felt better.

She looked a little tired but not unhappy as she made her way from Hanna's front door to his truck, and when she pulled open the door her face cleared up with that contagious smile that instantly tugged the corners of his own mouth upwards.

"Hi," he greeted him, leaning in for a kiss, which he happily returned.

"Everything okay?" he checked as he hit the gas and pulled away from the Marin driveway.

"Mm hmm," she confirmed, but old habits died hard and he couldn't help scrutinizing her somewhat suspiciously.

Usually when she had unplanned sleepovers at one of her friends' houses, it was after some A-related disaster that she would try to keep from him but he always found out about anyway – eventually. He knew she was making a very deliberate effort not to lie to him anymore, but he also he knew that in that sense they were way too much alike and when it came to protecting him she would stop at nothing.

She felt his silent interrogation and rolled her eyes. "I'm not lying. Her mom and Caleb are both out of town and she didn't feel like being alone all night. That's all."

As simple and perhaps juvenile as it might seem to an outsider, it was definitely something he could accept as a plausible explanation. -A had instilled it in probably all four of the girls, this deep-rooted fear of sleeping alone. Spencer was the same way, he knew. She didn't sleep well when she was the only person in her big house, and, by extension, neither did he. There were few things he detested more than being out of town and knowing her family wasn't around either.

She took his silence to mean he still wasn't convinced that there wasn't more to the story, and reached out to squeeze his knee comfortingly. "Don't worry. All's good, I've got homemade chocolate chip cookies to prove it."

That was the last thing he expected her to say. "What?"

She smiled. "We made cookies last night. I snuck a few in my purse this morning when Hanna wasn't looking. Since you were bringing lunch from the Brew I thought I'd bring dessert."

It had been Spencer's idea to do this picnic. She'd suggested it when she found the nice weather was planning to continue throughout the weekend, and he was only too happy to accept her offer. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy meals with her at Bucolli's or the Grille – because he did, very much so – but he was starting to think that he would always be most himself when it was just the two of them and not another soul around. Spencer hardly had a spotless reputation either, but even with all the things folks whispered about her behind her back she still had an aura that commanded respect. She still impressed the shit out of people, and when he would catch them staring he'd wonder if it was just his own insecurities speaking or if people really did think, What the hell does she see in a guy like him?

It had been a while since they'd been to their favorite spot on the hill, mostly because of the long winter they'd just put behind them but also because their hectic lives simply didn't allow it at this point. He'd thought things were complicated when they first started dating, back when he was still living at home and his parents hadn't wanted them around each other any more than her parents did. He'd thought things could only get easier as time went by and both sets of guardians figured out that they were in this for the long haul, but he had been wrong. So, so wrong. It would have made him laugh now if it wasn't so devastating.

But he didn't want to think about that now. He smiled at Spencer as they spread out a blanket on the grass. He'd brought a whole thermos of hot coffee from the Brew, along with a basket full of finger sandwiches. Spencer was delighted when she saw them.

"How did you get them to do this?" he asked, her dark irises twinkling because she knew that the Brew didn't typically engage in this type of elaborateness.

"I know people," he informed her with a wink, and she smirked when she realized that by 'people' he meant Emily. But then she placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a soft, lazy kiss.

"Thank you," she murmured, and he nuzzled their noses together in wordless response.

It was a perfect day. The sun was bright, the food delicious and the girl in front of him was the most beautiful sight he would ever see in his life. Conversation came easily about the simplest things, and it crossed his mind that this was one of his favorite things about them. They could talk about anything. The deep stuff as well as mindless rambles about the most random occurrences.

They never had to make an effort to be interesting to each other.

"You up for a game of Scrabble?" Spencer asked when they were both spent, pulling from her bag the very same board they had used at the motel when he was still getting to know her.

"Actually," he said pensively, making a split decision and watching intently for her reaction, "I was thinking we could try to catch a few grasshoppers."

Her eyes widened as she slowly lowered the Scrabble game to her lap. "You remember that?"

He nearly laughed. "Of course I remember! I thought you didn't remember."

She scoffed and informed him haughtily, "Excuse me but I happen to have an excellent memory."

"Right. My bad." He smiled at her, suddenly seeing the little girl she used to be – the long, brown braid down her back, the striped dress, the scabby knees – and before he knew it he had a flash of what his daughter might look like.

"You were so sweet, even then." Spencer's fingers grazed his cheek lovingly and her voice had toned down to a barely audible murmur.

He shrugged, suddenly self-conscious though he couldn't say why. "I did what any kid would have done."

"No, Toby." She shook her head, her eyes both happy and sad. "That's just not true."

"And yet, you still didn't want to kiss me," he teased in an effort to lighten the mood since he was suddenly feeling inexplicably emotional.

"I was six," she protested in self-defense. "You're lucky I didn't think you had cooties."

"Yeah, that part didn't come until almost ten years later."

It was out of his mouth before he knew it. There was absolutely no underlying menace behind his words, but in his effort to be funny he'd accidentally touched on a subject that he knew was a sensitive to her to this very day.

Spencer lowered her eyes shamefully and he instantly felt about a million times worse.

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly. "It was a joke, Spence. Nothing more."

She didn't move and didn't answer, and he was about to reach out to her when her voice suddenly rasped, "I don't know how I ever could have thought those things about you. Not after that day. Not after you showed me who you really are."

He smiled a little, and it took him a moment to realize why. It was because he'd always seen it the same way. On that one day in early October when they were both just little things, he'd gotten a glimpse of the real Spencer. Not the Spencer Hastings that the rest of the world viewed, but the girl he wouldn't see again for another ten years when she showed up at his door to tutor him in French. A girl that was just a tad less resilient than she appeared to be, who craved affection and acceptance more than anyone ever realized.

"We found each other," he gently reminded her, unable to stop himself from running his thumb down her cheek. "That's all that matters."

Her face softened and her hands reached out to frame his face before her mouth connected with his. Apparently one long, passionate kiss was not enough for her because soon she was using her palms to push him on his back and her lips covered his again.

"Yeah, now you want to kiss me," he managed to mutter teasingly before her mouth cut him of once more.

"Do I hear you complaining?" was her quick comeback as she bit on his lower lip. He tightened his arms around her reflexively and kissed her before she could kiss him.

"Mmm no," he assured her. She laughed, and he took advantage of this by rolling them over so he was on top. Her body didn't put up the slightest bit of protest. It welcomed his as he covered her.

He smoothed her hair back from her face and looked at her for a moment before lowering his lips against her again. Her hands snaked underneath his shirt, stroking his back and his sides sensually, and he shivered as he felt her bare skin on his.

They had made a mistake all those years ago. They had gone back to their lives – her back to her friends and him back to his preferred lunches of solitude – and never really thought back to that one hour they spent in the sun. They had waved at each other occasionally when their classes crossed in hallways, and once she'd helped him pick up a stack of library books that he'd dropped when an older kid carelessly knocked him over, but no more than that. He didn't know why. He didn't know why he hadn't held on to this tiny girl who immediately put him at ease and seemed to grasp what he was feeling. But he hadn't, and neither had she.

He knew they would never make that same mistake again. Even when they were shaky, even when they didn't agree and made each other cry and the entire universe seemed to be against them, they were somehow still solid. There was nothing she could so that could permanently keep him away, and he knew she knew that by now. They would always find their way to each other in the end.

In their world of lies, he knew that to be a single, undeniable truth.