Disclaimer- not mine

Background: A scene set between "stolen kisses" and "the longest day"

Thanks Wild for the beta and encouragment

Feedback highly welcome

Inside (1/1)

I wonder when things changed. Here on the dock, looking out, surrounded by the calm water disturbed only by the gentlest evening breeze, I wonder if things can actually change. I'm displaced from the world where time propels us unrelentingly forward. I run my fingers through the cool water so its lost of its deceptive blue, as my pale hand travels beneath the surface.

He's consumed so many of my thoughts, I don't remember what it was like without him here. Every recent memory, and most of the further ones I care to recall are coloured by his charm, his vibrancy and character. Did he creep in like the tide, regardlessly crashing over rocks, eroding them, claiming them?

I'm scared. In the transition of believing I was breaking free from the hold of another man, I've once again been flooded, dispassionate about my own hand numbing in the water.

I hear footsteps on the dock, and heat rushes through me; my heart clenches and the closer creaking inspires faster breathing, the fight or flight instinct I'd adopt if I were drowning, the adrenaline burns through me.

"Jo." His voice low and wary is enough to whip my head around.

Brilliant blue eyes fix on me beneath the tousled mess of hair, one look into my startled stare and he's grinning widely and I can't help but smile back.

Only it's too lacklustre to convince him of my happiness. "What's wrong?" With this question, he closes himself off a little from me; even his brave heart is tempered by the response he thinks he'll get to his question.

Gazing at his mouth, my face is on fire as the yearning of our last encounter again visits me.

Pacey and I. Our relationship had been built on a strange, brutal honesty. I could be snarky, clever and cutting without repercussions, I could unreservedly, without embarrassment tell him my opinions because I felt his respect as our friendship blossomed. But did he have more than glimpses of the turmoil in the depth of my character? Does he know my weakness?

Looking at him now, my silent decision is made. "I'm so frightened." I admit in a whisper, and his concern is overwhelming as his guard collapses, and his arms from behind come tight around me, warm and protective. "Is it Dawson?" I know how much that question must hurt him, but I need to he honest, because what we have is worth it. "Partially. I've never just been me Pace." My explanation begins, and as it does my words tumble out rapidly, "first Dawson was the subject of my daydreams, was the ear of my problems, and now you're my warrior. Fighting my battles, inspiring me through my problems, being the backbone behind my adventures. I don't know who I am anymore, or if I, just me: Joey Potter, can cope with anything."

I twist my head to face him as I confess, watching his eyes widen, and stopping for his verdict.

"Jo, you are the smartest, most capable person I know." His voice holds awe, and I'm transfixed by the look in his eyes, "Being with you, talking to you is the most amazing experience, and I feel lucky to be able to help you. You are beautiful and you are a fighter. You coped with your mothers death, you stood by your morals with your father, and you also hit me pretty hard when the mood comes over you."

The last statement is said with a slight hint of classic Pacey humour and I resist the urge to snap out the childish retort "bite me", when I realise my self worth has been boasted by his earlier words.

"Thanks Pace," I breathe, kissing him gently on the cheek, the texture of his skin, soft and welcoming.

"Well I think I deserve a lot more than that Potter," he complains, frowning energetically at me.

"I'm not sure, Pace. You aren't professional enough to get any salary."

Since we both know he's not talking about money, the slight tease irritates him a little.

"Jo, you want me."

"No, I want home, its getting kinda late."

"Oh, you want me and bed," his face lights up.

"Yeah, you and bed with you smothered."

"By your….." he begins, before I punch him in the arm. "Ow. Where's all this aggression coming from Potter?"

"You tell me, you're the counsellor," I reply, thinking I've been intelligent.

He merely cocks his head to the side in an adorable way (ala Spike) and brings his mouth close to my ear. "It's repressed sexual tension, kiss me." Tingles dance down my body at his breath on my skin, and I determine not to break first.

"You kiss me."

"Unprofessional conduct," he frowns, although I think he glances longingly at my mouth. I smile, and turn in his embrace.

I place my lips against his neck to speak my next words. "What, and the same wouldn't apply if I initiated it?"

The spark from the contact at his neck must have beaten him or the silly game logic. He yanks my jaw up, and begins kissing me furiously. I lose all sensible thoughts, and ideas for victory declarations as the desire pounds in my rushing blood.

When we stop there's a quiet moment as I gaze into his eyes. I recall my fears of not long before, and know that although they are yet to be completely resolved, I feel that with Pacey, I can be independent and together simultaneously.

For a few seconds I turn to watch my rowboat bob up and down on the shivers of waves, the one that takes me to Dawson, I revolve back to look at Pacey. I take my near-deadened hand from the water, and place it on his lap, smiling into his eyes as he unquestioning rubs it carefully between his larger ones.

At the return of feeling, I haul myself onto my feet and begin to walk back to my house. "Coming then?" I shout not turning around, but grinning as I hear Pacey scrambling to his feet,

"Yes mam."

"Quick march to the B and B then mister, you'll never believe how many jobs I have for you tonight."

We take each other's hands in the dusk and retreat inside.