I could figure out the actual date, the actual amount of time that's past. But to do that, I'd have to think back to exactly when it was that you betrayed me. When it was that lying to me seemed the more attractive prospect. When lying to me was easier than telling him the truth.

Lies always come back to haunt you, haven't you learned that yet? Maybe you have learned it, and you just don't care. Or maybe you think that I'll forgive you for this lie like I've forgiven you for so many. We've just been one lie after another, you and me, haven't we?

I've been sitting here for hours, trying to decide what to do. I remember a long time ago when I didn't give a damn what might happen, I just went full out, balls to the wall. I used to have balls, before you. I used to not care what happened in the long run, so long as the moments were worth it. You made the moments worth it for me, you know? But now, there's nothing more than this hollow feeling.

You did that to me. You emptied me and, instead of letting what we had fill us back up, you just left me empty. Do you know what it's like to lie beside the person you love, be inside the person you love and know that the only thing they have to offer you is a lie?

No. Of course you don't. Because I love you. I risked everything for you, I became something more for you, I was perfect for you. And in return, you lied.

"Pace? Joey's here." Gretchen stuck her head in her brother's room, not surprised to see him sitting on his bed, staring at the calendar on the opposite wall. "You want me to send her in?"

"Sure." He rubbed his eyes, bringing everything back into focus. The room seemed blurry, an aftereffect of the tears that seemed to brim at the edge of his lashes whenever he was alone. "You going out?"

"Yeah."

"Say hi to Dawson for me, would you?" His voice was tainted with bitterness, stung with betrayal. Gretchen managed a grimace and nodded, backing out of the room. Pacey stared after her as she left, closing his eyes for a brief moment before Joey stepped into the doorway.

"Picturing me naked?"

"Isn't that my job?" His tone was light, soft and sexy, just like always. But something in the room seemed colder, had seemed colder since their last overnight visit. "You coming in? Or are you waiting for a more formal invitation?"

She walked in slowly, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. It was a sure sign of nervousness, a bad habit she'd never been able to break. "You didn't call me."

"You didn't call me either." He turned a bit more, letting his legs drop over the side of the bed so he was facing her. "You didn't call, didn't write. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about me."

Her smile was brilliant in the fading light of the room, filling it up with laughter and love in the wake of his teasing. She moved to him, slipping easily between his legs. He leaned into her, resting his head just above her stomach, his arms around her waist. Joey tangled her hands in his hair, running them through the length of the short, dark strands. "How could I forget you, Pacey? I've been trying all my life and you won't go away."

"I'm persistent. But hey, it got me the girl, huh?" He leaned back, pulling her down on top of him in a flurry of arms, legs and laughter. Her skin was warm where her shirt slipped up, exposing a tantalizing bit of flesh. She struggled in his grip, easing over him to get comfortable. He did the same, moving so that they were lying side by side on the bed, staring into each other's eyes.

"I missed you."

He nodded, "I missed you too." Silence, comfortable and tense all at once, lingered around them as he looked at her, searching the depths of her eyes for something only he could name. "So, what would you like to do, Miss Potter?"

"We're lying here on your bed, the house is empty and you're wondering what I want to do?" Her voice was filled with disbelief and knowing. "You know what I want to do, Pacey."

"Discuss the state of the world today? Make fun of our president? Lambaste the latest issue of the school paper?" He wove his fingers through her hair, feeling it's silky texture, absorbing it like Braille. "Because I'm all about being socially conscious."

"I want," she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before moving down to his lips, tracing them with her tongue. "I want to make love to you, Pacey. Several times at varying speeds. I want you to do that thing you did last time that made me squeak. I want to watch your face as you lose control." She peppered his face with small, sexy kisses. "I want to get naked and messy."

"And they say the conversation is a dying art form." He found her mouth, halting her seduction with a heat-stopping kiss, burying his tongue in her mouth, exploring her, tasting her, devouring her. Her fingers massaged his scalp, hanging onto him as he kissed her. Her body moved into his, stealing warmth, stealing breath as she edged closer. He trailed his tongue over the edge of her teeth, the tip of it grazing the roof of her mouth and sending tingles through her body. One hand stayed locked in her hair while the other stroked her body with long, firm movements as if he was trying to coax her clothes off of her with a simple touch.

Joey moaned softly as Pacey's hands caressed her, writhing beneath him as he angled his body over hers. She captured his tongue between her teeth, sucking on it as he pressed into her. "God, Pace..." She could barely speak the words, his insistent passion fueling her own. Her hands moved to his back, her nails making furrows in the material of his shirt.

His touch never wavered, never faltered, as he eased her clothes from her body, guiding her shirt up her torso and over her head, the break in their kiss kept as short as possible. She found his lips with hers quickly, urging him to taste her again. The shirt gone, he easily unhooked her bra and brushed it out of the way, the straps unnoticed in their place around her shoulders.

Joey moved her legs around his, grinding her body into his, feeling the hardness of his erection in the aching hollow between her thighs. Her hands, arms and legs clung to him, pulling him to her, needing him inside her. She was desperation as she arched her back, her breasts tingling as they brushed his dark blue shirt.

Pacey pulled back enough to unbutton his shirt and shrug it off his body before moving into her again. Their kisses melted like plastic in fire, shrinking and stretching in the heat of the blaze.

Skin against skin, she raked her nails down his back, still unfulfilled. Pacey released her, reaching behind his back to unhook her ankles and free himself from her full-body embrace. Easing off the bed, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and tossed them aside before moving back to undress her as well. She lifted her hips off his bed, arching up again to help him. The sight, her breasts full and taut pointing at the ceiling, her body still tanned from their summer at sea, sent a fresh rush of arousal shooting through him.

Joey watched him as he undressed her, smiling as she lay naked before him. Like this, here, she could forget everything else, forget the world. That was one of the things that made making love to Pacey what it was. He had the ability to block out the rest of the world for her; he made her lose herself in him, in them.

He smiled back, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly as he looked at her. Placing one knee on the bed, he moved into her, gliding over her body, covering her with practiced motion. He felt right above her, touching her. She'd thought that loving him would be hard, too different and difficult, but it was right and easy.

At least when she was with him.

Pacey kissed her again, this time starting at her shoulder and working his way inward along her collarbone. It was slow seduction, meant to drive her crazy. His lips moved deliberately, his tongue tracing her like one of her drawings, ambling over lines and shadows, down her body to the curve of her breasts.

She hissed slightly as he found her nipple, pulling the tight, tender flesh into his mouth. His tongue wrapped around it, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Pacey grinned as she whimpered, suckling the hard warmth with gentle passion. He increased the pressure slowly until she begged wordlessly for mercy. Granting her the small measure of peace, he made his way to the opposite peak and began the torture again.

Her hands captured his head, pulling him away from her. She was breathing hard, hungry, mumbling words of passion and pleading. Capturing her pleas, Pacey wove his tongue with hers, entwining their bodies just as easily.

Joey gasped as his erection brushed the tangle of hairs at the apex of her thighs, pushing up toward him, inviting him in. Her hands smoothed along his sides, one slipping between them, reaching down to take hold of the hard length of his cock. She stroked him in the small space between them, running her thumb over the sensitive tip, smiling against him as he hissed a soft sigh.

Tightening her fingers slightly, Joey began stroking him in earnest, the slick heat of his arousal smoothing the friction of her hand. Pacey groaned into her mouth, hot and full of passion, as he pressed into her palm, needing to be inside her.

Joey released him slowly, easing her hand away reluctantly. Free of her light grip, Pacey positioned himself above her, staring down into her wide eyes as he teased the lips of her labia with his cock. Joey dug her nails into Pacey's thighs as he taunted her, brushing her swollen flesh with his own. He closed his eyes, grinning down at her, as he arched his hips toward her, slowly penetrate her willing body.

Joey shivered as he slipped inside her, filling her with one smooth, slow thrust. Bracing her feet on the mattress, she raised her hips to his and met his motion with her own. As her body enveloped him, Pacey buried himself inside her, refusing to think, refusing to do anything but lose himself in her.

Her hands rested on the curve of his ass, kneading the flesh there as they moved together, their rhythm starting off slowly then building, moving them, rocking them as Pacey lifted himself, moving so that there was an arms-length between their chests. He gazed down at her, perspiration clinging to her skin, giving it a soft sheen, her eyes bright with desire, her lips parted with passion. Her chest heaved with every breath, her breasts rising and falling.

He closed his eyes, turning his head away from her as he continued moving, pumping inside her, filling her again and again. She was breathless, panting, whispering words, calling out for divine intervention as he pushed her ever closer to the edge.

He leaned back into her, resting his head in the hollow of her neck as he slipped his arms underneath her, holding their bodies together tightly. Joey wrapped her legs around his, entangling them further as he thrust deeper, sending shivers of reaction along her spine.

Pacey stared at her skin with unseeing eyes, not caring about the golden hue or the sexy scent of sweat and lust that permeated the air. He'd given her a myriad of firsts since they started this farce, and his whole being was focused on giving her another. He rolled them over, bringing her on top of him, and stopped thrusting. Joey slowly released her grip on him, straightening her legs carefully, making sure not to lose their contact.

"Give me your hands, Jo."

His voice, in the sudden stillness, seemed deeper than it had before, full of promise. She did as he asked and allowed him to help her into a sitting position. She gasped slightly as their bodies moved and shifted, the feel of him inside her changing. "What do I do?" She asked breathlessly.

"Use your imagination," he suggested, arching his hips slightly. Joey made another soft noise as he did so then slowly began moving above him. He ran his hands over her thighs, helping to adjust her positioning before letting them glide up to her hips, steadying her as she tried thrusting down on him. He winced softly and shook his head, tightening his grip. "Slowly, Jo. We're not in a race here."

"I want you deeper," she assured him, moving again, this time following the rhythm his hands helped her set. She started slowly, gradually increasing as she grew more comfortable, her thigh muscles clenched tightly as she sank her body onto his. His hands guided her as he closed his eyes once more, not willing to watch her face as the echoes of power and control danced over it.

As he moved his hips in time with hers, coaxing her closer, he listened to the sound of her breathing, hearing it change from the slow, seductive pants of domination to the quick, instinctive gasps of letting go. He increased his speed, not noticing as her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, intent only on the soft hiccups of desire as he released her hips, moving one finger between them to tease her clitoris as she closed down around him.

She cried out as she came, the orgasm rocketing through her, moving down her body in jerky shivers until it coated his cock, blanketing him in her silky heat. She collapsed on top of him, no longer in control of her motor functions. Pacey caught her and wrapped her up in his embrace, easing her down onto the bed beside him. He carefully disentangled her body from his, moving away just enough to still give her comfort. "You okay?"

She nodded, her eyes closed, her mind incapable of processing anything more involved.

"Just lie there for a second. It'll pass."

"Does it have to?"

"Yeah." He spoke the word with a slight laugh, the bitterness almost disguised by the honesty of fulfilled desire. Pride goeth before the fall, he reminded himself, moving just a little further away. "But only so you can enjoy it again the next time."

"Which will be when?" She opened her eyes and smiled at him, hunger and flirtation in equal measure in her eyes.

"You'll have to ask Dawson, I'm afraid."

Joey froze, although her eyes followed him uncertainly as he climbed off his bed. "I don't understand…"

"No," he agreed as he pulled on his boxers. "You probably don't."

"Pacey?" She raised herself up on one elbow, watching him with a mixture of confusion and latent desire.

He ignored her, tugging his jeans up his legs. Leaving them unfastened, he reached for his shirt, stopping as she placed her hand on his arm, stilling him. He turned his head and looked at her, his eyes finally meeting hers. "What do you want, Joey?"

"I want to know what the hell you're talking about," she said the words softly, almost afraid.

"You mean why I'd expect your next orgasm to come from Dawson?" He nodded as if it were a reasonable request. "That's a good point, I doubt he'll know anything about how to make you have one. Remind me to buy him a copy of the Kama Sutra for his birthday this year."

"Stop it." Her voice was shaking, definitely scared now. "I want to know what you're talking about. Why you think Dawson has anything…"

"Anything to do with our sex life? Well, normally, Jo, I wouldn't. But the fact that you think he's got a right to know our sexual status sort of changed all that." He paused for affect, his eyes like ice. "Of course, he doesn't know a damn thing about our sexual status, does he? Because you were too busy keeping him thinking you're a virgin for the truth to get in the way."

"I…"

"And please, don't try to deny it. Do me that one fucking courtesy, okay?" He grabbed her clothes off the floor and tossed them to her. "Get dressed and get out, Jo."

"You're being…"

"What?" He turned on her, fire kindled in his eyes once more, although this time the flames leapt with anger instead of desire. "Irrational? I'm sure you're right. I mean, after the big assurance that you gave me that, should Dawson actually act like the complete prick he is and ask something that's none of his business, you'd tell him the truth, it's completely irrational for me to be upset that you lied."

"I didn't know how to answer him."

Pacey laughed bitterly. "You're a bitch, Joey." He watched her eyes widen in reaction. "You think I fucking care that you lied to Dawson? You think I actually could give a fuck that you told him a lie about something that was none of his Goddamned business? You think," he edged closer, making sure every word hit its intended target. "That's what's upsetting me?"

She flinched as he bit the words out through clenched teeth. "I don't understand…"

"Exactly." Suddenly he was laughing, as if she'd answered his question. "You don't understand a damn fucking thing unless it deals with your soulmate." He laced the hated word with venom. "You're so damn worried about what Dawson might think now that you're soiled goods, you don't even realize what you did."

"I lied."

"You. Lied. To. Me."

Realization dawned in her eyes and, as if in afterthought, she pulled her shirt up to cover her bare breasts. "Not on purpose. I…I told you what I thought…"

"What you thought would appease me?" He raised an eyebrow to match the dangerous tone in his voice. "What you thought would keep me from walking up to Dawson and shoving your misspent virginity in his face?"

"I didn't want him to hear it from someone else."

"Or from you, apparently."

"I wanted to be the one to break it to him when I thought it was the right time."

"You didn't want me bragging to him in the locker room, so you said just what you knew you needed to to keep my mouth shut, right, Jo?" He shook his head and walked away, afraid of the anger boiling up inside him. "Because you thought I'd gloat? You thought I'd rub it in? You thought I'd go up to him and tell him all the juicy details as some sort of revenge."

"I was afraid."

"You were afraid he'd find out you'd been my whore?"

"It wasn't like that."

"I know." He whirled around, getting onto his knees at the foot of the bed so that their eyes were almost level. "I was there. I know what we did and I know what I thought it meant. And if you honestly believe that I would cheapen what we did together by flaunting it in front of Dawson, then you don't know anything about me."

"And how did the whole tawdry affair with Miss Jacobs get out, Pacey? You were bragging about it to Dawson in the men's room." As soon as she said the words, she wished them back. A cold, dangerous silence filled the room. "I'm sorry…"

"Get out."

"Pacey…"

"Get out. I'm tired of playing this your way, Joey. I'm tired of playing second to Dawson in your affections. We've been dating for over nine months. Tell me, how much of that time was he out of your thoughts?"

"You're not being fair."

"No." He nodded his agreement. "I'm being pissed off. I'm being hurt and angry. In fact, I'm acting like my girlfriend has done the intellectual equivalent of cheating on me and I'm getting my own back. I'm tired of being perfect for you because, to be fucking honest, Jo? It's wasted effort. I'll never be perfect no matter what I do. Because in your mind, I'll never be Dawson."

She slowly pulled on her shirt, refusing to look at him, refusing to let him see the tears falling. "You said you loved me."

"I'm tired of being the only one in love in this relationship."

"I'm in love…"

"With Dawson. Or the idea of Dawson. You're sure as hell not in love with me."

She stood up, pulling on her panties, trying to hide her body from him as she did so. "I gave myself to you."

"You gave me your body, Jo. It wasn't the thing I wanted most." He turned away, refusing to watch her. "You keep saying that he's always going to have a piece of your heart. Pity that after that there's nothing left for anyone else."

"You're saying I never loved you?"

He looked at her, memorizing her as she stood there. Her dark hair was messy, a wild tangle from her manic thrashing as he loved her, her eyes were bright with tears, her cheeks stained red from crying, her hands trembling, her lips swollen from his kisses. "I'm saying you still love him. For whatever that's worth. And until you figure out what's between you and him, until you fuck him or whatever you need to do to get this all out of your system…" Pacey shrugged. "Goodbye, Jo."

"I'm sorry I lied…"

He shook his head and turned back to the calendar, not watching her as she walked away.

How could something that started so slow and subtle end like this? Quick and painful and searing? Yesterday we were in love, in bed…fifteen minutes ago we were in bed. We were making love and now we're…we're nothing.

I keep asking myself why I lied. I know why I lied to you. I felt cornered and scared and shaken. And your insecurities, regarding Dawson and everything else, were deflected with a simple lie. I didn't think I was lying…no. I knew I was. I knew that I'd never tell Dawson, just like I knew, somewhere deep inside, that Dawson would ask.

He'd ask and I'd lie.

Lies are easier than the truth. The truth means living with repercussions and pain. The truth means being strong in the face of all the people who mock you and make fun of you and spread rumors about you. The truth means letting go.

I don't want to let go. I don't know how. I don't know that I'm strong enough. I thought I was back when we first started. I thought I was strong enough to love you when you asked me to, when you asked me with a kiss. I thought I could do it. And then when he confronted us, when it came down to telling him the truth, I knew I wasn't. I knew I never would be.

He had to let me go for me to chase after you, do you know that? Did I tell you that? Or did I lie? Did I lie to you about him, just liked I lied to him about you? I thought I could be strong enough in the face of his disapproval, I thought I could take the strength I gained on the boat and transfer it to our daily lives.

I can't though. Because it was never my strength. It was yours. And now you've taken it from me.

I look up and I realize where I am, where I've walked. I realize what I've done. I've betrayed you again with my automatic responses. I've come here, to him, even though I know Gretchen's in there with him. Even though I know what this simple path is going to lead to.

I stand here, where the ladder used to be, and I look across the creek toward where I live. Turning around, I make my way to his boat and row home, determined that, for your sake, I'll cry somewhere else tonight.