A/N: So I never put any disclaimers up but these characters are so not mine...well, the SON characters are not mine. Okay, this is the first story I ever wrote and I'm posting it here because there's been these requests for Snapshots but it's kind of weird (IMO) to post it without the preceeding stories since it is a semi-sequel and stuff so here's And So It Goes...with a few minor adjustments because oh my God, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think my writing's improved since this. Oh, and it will be posted in its entirety before the new year because why delay it, it's already written, lol.
Again, just like before. Post-prom, shooting, only noone dies before teen drive-by shooters are terrible shots. Just kidding. I just don't dig teen violence.
Also, this story is PG...until it's not. And even when it's not it's so mildly non-PG that's it's still kinda PG - you get me?
Before I Go Back
It was early fall in California and already the autumn winds had made for a slight adjustment in temperature. For the native Ohioan, the move prompted a lot of changes. She'd come out of the closet, had her heart broken, and, as she was finding out, lost her penchant for be able to cope with cooler temperatures. "I'm almost ready," Spencer told him, walking into her bedroom.
The boy on her bed looked up and tossed his magazine aside in lieu of covering his eyes, a terrified yet conflicted look on his face.
"Spencer!" he yelled, incredulous.
Startled, she whirled around, looking at him perplexingly. "What?" she asked.
"Y-y-you don't have any clothes on," he stuttered/muttered, his face alit with color. Quite a feat considering the boy was African-American.
"Brandon, you've got be kidding me," she said with a small chuckle, disregarding his issues. "I wear more than this at the beach."
"Spence," he whined, closing his eyes tightly even though he had sufficiently covered them. "That's different and you know it. I mean, you're practically naked."
"Shirt on now Brandon," she said, rolling her eyes. "I have my shirt on now."
"Thank God," he breathed out, relieved although still somewhat reluctant to remove his hands.
Spencer watched him with amusement. "Are you sure you're not gay?"
He groaned, tossing a pillow at her. "Look, I was interested at first. But the ten seconds after we met and you told me you were gay you stopped being interesting and started being a friend. Now, you're like my sister. And, no, I don't like seeing my sisters flaunt around in their underwear."
The girl laughed at his cuter than cute pout, putting on her earrings. "You kill me." She meant it too. If, you know, it was another universe and she still liked boys like that, she'd totally get with him.
"Are we ready?" a breezy voice called out from the doorway.
Brandon allowed the young girl who resembled him to pull him off of the bed. "I thought we were meeting you there."
"You were," Tasha assured him, leaning against Spencer's bedroom wall and crossing her long legs at the ankle. "But I had a change of heart since I plan on getting completely inebriated and hooking up with some random chick tonight," she added, shooting a wink in Spencer's direction.
"You and me both," Spencer contributed with a wink of her own, surprising the other two.
"Not each other I hope," Brandon said, walking out of the bedroom. "'Cause that would be pretty much incestuous."
Spencer and Tasha looked at each other a little oddly, silly little smiles playing across their faces but the moment was interrupted by Brandon rapping on the door, jingling a pair of car keys.
"Since you're joining sis," he started, tossing the keys to Tasha. "You can drive."
Tasha observed her brother, looking at him over the rim of her drinking glass. He looked tense, even within the rather relaxed atmosphere. "Brandon, would you chill out already? Really," she said, taking another sip of her cocktail. She'd roll her eyes if she wasn't sure that it would royally piss him off.
Brandon's response was to fold his arms even more tightly across his chest. "You guys should have told me this was a gay bar," he grumbled, pouting impressively for a teenage boy nearing adulthood but, you know, whatever.
Spencer smirked, her little rebellious streak making an appearance. "We could've," she reasoned, winking at the boy. "But what's the fun in that?" She gave him a grin, a wicked little grin that was mirrored by Tasha.
"I knew my sister was pure evil, but you Spencer… I must admit, you had me fooled," said Brandon, eyeing the guy that was rapidly approaching their table.
"I can be deceptive like that sometimes," was the smoothly delivered flippant reply.
The cute guy leaned down to be heard over the bar's din. "Hey, would you like to dance?" he asked Brandon.
"No, thank you," the twin graciously declined, crouching down even further into the booth as they guy slunk away.
"Aww, Bran, you're so polite," said Spencer.
"…and attractive," Tasha added, laughing. "He's man meat."
"It's not my fault," the boy darn near yelled, incredulous. "Besides, we're supposed to be here for you two so… start selling it."
"Excuse me?" gasped Spencer.
"Do the gay thing. I'm serious. Shop around already before I blow this joint and you two have to find your own way home," he said, semi-cringing at the fact that he used the word blow in this place and so near so many male suitors. The two girls just stared at him. "Move it," he added, shooing them away with his hands as they finally scrambled into action.
"Did my brother just tell us to go pick up chicks?" Tasha asked, a bit confused…and worried for her brother. He was mildly attractive and she could just see the Madonna-lovers inching in.
"He totally did," Spencer nodded. "He's so much cooler than Glen."
Spencer, a little more self-confident after a summer of prowling, lost Tasha as they went to separate ends of the bar.
"I'll take one vodka cranberry," Spencer told the bartender as the woman passed her.
"ID?"she asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.
"Cranberry spritzer?" Spencer corrected, smiling that sheepish Spencer smile. The one that says 'I know I'm cute and innocent and all but hey, can't hurt to try'.
The bartender grinned because, really, you just had to. "That's better."
"Meg's a little protective of us younger ones."
Spencer looked to her left and was met with the vision of a red-haired girl, her age or maybe a little older. She had green eyes, which reminded Spencer so very much of Christmas. She wore a form-fitting tee that left little too the imagination and her denim jeans were hugging her curves like nothing else ever could so she wasn't bad to look at and yeah, maybe Spencer really needed to stop hanging around Tasha.
Such a guy.
"Oh?" the blonde replied casually, taking her drink.
The girl grinned, having noticed Spencer checking her out. "Yeah. I wouldn't sweat it too much, though," she said, looking closely at the blonde. "It's about time you made it over here. I was beginning to think I wouldn't get the chance to talk to you."
"You could've come over to my table," Spencer told her, smiling coyly.
"True," the girl said, pretending to mull the comment over. "I thought you were with that girl."
"Oh, no," she said, screwing up her face slightly. How absurd? "No. Tasha and I are just friends."
"Yeah," the girl agreed, pointing down the bar. "I can see that."
Spencer followed her finger and saw Tasha being happily chatted up by some brunette. She couldn't contain her smile.
"You don't come here a lot, do you…" She trailed off after that hoping Spencer would offer up her name.
"Spencer," she said. "And no, I don't. I came tonight on a bit of a whim actually…"
"Laura," supplied the girl, grinning at Spencer's use of her own tactics.
"Right. Laura. Do you come here often?"
"Pretty much. It's one of the only gay hangouts that isn't obvious from the outside looking in. Plus, I know the DJ," said Laura.
"Yeah?" asked Spencer, somewhat impressed. "That's cool."
A moment of silence passed between the two, before, "You wanna dance?" This coming form Laura of course, not Spencer because while she like trying this new brazen act on for size, it just wasn't in her to truly make the first move.
But it was definitely in her to make the second.
"Sure," she said, allowing herself to be whisked away onto the dance floor.