CB: Cat and Mouse, -VI-

It is easy to forget, when wearing clothes, just what you look like without them on. After changing into my towel and slipping into the water, I lean my head back against the smooth rim of the tub when I heard the other door open, and felt the level of the water rise around my neck as he slipped down into the water.

"This isn't exactly what I'd call a celebration, Faye."

"Some of us do more than drink ourselves stupid when we're happy, Spike," I answer, and feel the ripples of him chuckling.

"You never did quite approve of that."

"I still don't."

There is a long moment of silence, and I feel his eyes on me for a moment, as tangibly as I feel them go away when he looks elsewhere, turning his eyes up to the ceiling or to the walls around us. And then he shifts in the water, and his foot brushes against mine.

A jolt of electricity passes through me as it happens, and my eyes snap open to look at him. He hasn't noticed. Or at least he shows no sign of having noticed what he's just done to me. And then he tilts his head down, and his eyes, mis-matched and dangerous, meet mine.

I feel drunk on his presence.

And he knows it.

Damn him, but he knows it.

We sit there, in silence, and then he speaks. "You're really tense lately."

"What do you know about it?" I feel color rising to my cheeks, both from the heat of the steam bath and from his comment. "I haven't seen you much lately."

"By choice," he says, and lifts his head, meeting my eyes with his.

"We all make choices, Spike."

He nods and remains silent for a long moment. "I'm trying to make one now." Ever so slowly, he slips across the bench towards me, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

I take a deep breath and hold it. He's close enough so that I can feel his breathing. He lifts a hand to my cheek. "I don't know how to do this, Spike," I say, turning my head to lean it into his hand.

"What's to know, Faye?" his voice is gentle, and he leans forward to kiss my cheek. His lips are soft. "I don't exactly know how to do it either… but I know how I feel, and that's enough for me."

I swallow, nervous. My shoulders are tensing despite the warm persuasions of the water. "I…"

He gently brushes his fingertips down my cheek and lets his hand trail away, leaning forward to kiss my lips in the same gentle, tender manner that he kissed my cheek. "You don't trust me." He sits back against the wall of the bath next to me.

I close my eyes, turning my head slightly from his in a jerk. "No," I say, finally realizing the truth. "I don't trust me." I gather the wet towel against my chest with one hand and stand, scrambling out of the tub and back towards the changing room. I almost miss his startled question.

"Don't trust yourself to what?"