In her dream, she was swimming, which was weird, because she was not a big swimmer in real life. Will was there, sitting on the edge of the pool, and he was in brown trunks, danging his legs in the water, holding his arms out to her, and she was swimming as hard and as fast as she could, but she couldn't reach him. His arms stretched desperately towards her, close but not close enough, and her legs started to ache, and her lungs started to burn, and she began to gasp in panic and frustration. She heard a phone ringing in the background, and it kept getting louder and louder, and why wouldn't someone help her?

She reached across to the bedside table and grabbed her cell phone, fumbling with her fingers to find the buttons in the dark.

"Em?"

"...Yeah," she mumbled, after a short pause. She rubbed her eyes and felt dopey, half-expecting her arms and legs to ache from the strain of her swim.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I was thinking it would go into voicemail, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice was low, smooth...like warm syrup. It was quiet in her condo, and it was quiet in his car. She knew he was driving, from Pittsburgh. He'd gone to his great-uncle's funeral, one of those funerals you go to mainly for your parents, since he hadn't seen the great-uncle since he was seven years old. Emma squinted at the clock on the table, and saw that it was almost 1:00 am.

"No, no, I wasn't sleeping well, I'm glad you woke me up." Her voice sounded gravelly, sandpaper-y.

"I'm sorry," he said soothingly. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, sure, just...weird. Whatever. Where are you?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Just outside of Columbus." There was a pause, a bit of silence. She felt a little twinge in her stomach, because she wanted to ask him to come over. She hadn't seen him in almost three days. But she knew he probably wanted to go home, unpack, get comfortable. She didn't want to sound needy. But she needed him.

"Hey," he prodded gently. "Did you go back to sleep?"

"No...sorry...I was just thinking-"

"Can I come over?" he interrupted, and she twisted the edge of the sheet around her index finger shyly.

"I'd like that, I think," she whispered.

"You think?" he whispered back, and she grinned, felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Yeah, I think," she grinned. "Let yourself in when you get here, in case I fall asleep, okay?"

"Okay...I love you," he said softly, a bit hesitantly. They'd been saying it regularly now for a few weeks, as part of their daily conversations, but it was still new, and kind of raw, and was usually spoken in careful, hushed tones.

"I love you too. Please hurry. Oh, but, you know, don't really hurry, be safe, 'cause it's the middle of the night, and probably the only people on the road are drunk, or really tired, and-"

"Em, I'll be careful," he said slowly, and she could hear the grin in his voice. "I'll see you in about an hour."

"Okay...bye," she said weakly, and then hung up, and then laid back down, and she didn't think she'd go back to sleep, but she did, almost immediately. And in this dream, she was alone, and looking for her watch, which she thought was on the counter in the bathroom. But it wasn't there, or in the kitchen, or on the coffee table, or in the bottom of her purse. She was late, so late, for something, she just didn't know what, but she absolutely could not leave without her watch. And then she wasn't in her condo anymore, she was at school, looking for a folder, a very important folder, but she couldn't find it, either. She was starting to panic, and then Will was there, and he was telling her it was alright, she could find it tomorrow.

But Will, it's important, I can't leave without it.

Em, it didn't just walk out of your office. It's here somewhere, I promise we'll find it tomorrow.

No, no, you don't understand, I need it now. Right now.

Em, come on...

No, I can't. Please just help me look, please!

Emma...Emma...

He was shaking her gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, and she could sense the outside on him, smell the cold air...he smelled like nighttime.

"Will," she breathed, and sat up to hug him, but before she could get her arms around his neck he was kissing her, hard and sharp, climbing in bed, fully clothed, covering her with his body. His wool sweater was scratchy against her skin, which was still warm and soft from sleep. He enveloped her, overtook her, kissed her and rubbed her and stroked her until she sighed with pleasure and happiness. Because when she was in his arms, she reached him in that pool, and she found what she was missing-watches and folders, kisses and "I love you's"-and this wasn't a dream, it was real, he was real, and she'd never felt such a sense of relief in her life.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his breath warm and damp against her cheek. "I know I should have gone home...it's just―God, I've been having the strangest dreams. I just felt like I couldn't sleep without seeing you."

"I needed to see you, too," she said softly, pulling back to look in his eyes, cup his cheek, rub the pad of her thumb softly over the outer edge of his eyebrow. "Is that okay? I mean, me needing you?"

"Em," he said softly, grabbing her hand and kissing her palm softly. "It won't always be like this―I mean, eventually, I'll be able to go more than three minutes without thinking about you, and I might even be able to see you brush your teeth or pack your lunch in the morning without wanting to tackle you and rip your clothes off."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and he chuckled once. "Okay, I'll probably always want to rip your clothes off." She sunk her teeth into the pad of her lower lip, but remained silent.

He reached out and brushed her hair back, running his finger lightly over the shell of her ear "Right now, though, the only thing I need in this world is to be needed by you." She nodded once, wordlessly, and finally got the hug she'd reached for as he wakened her, grabbing his neck and squeezing tightly, maybe a little desperately, and feeling him hug her back. Just a tiny bit too tight. And everything she needed was in her arms.