Evil Willow's Favorite Fanfic

Torn


Part 9

Written By: Cat
Rating: G
Summary: Dawson's Creek goes through some changes.

Disclaimer: I am not in any way affilated with the show.
I don't not own any of the characters from the show. I do
own rights to any characters I have made up. No copy rght
infirgment intended.

"AirJamaica Flight 215 is now boarding at Gate 328," a perky voice declared over the intercom. "That's us, people," Cloey called out. She picked up her small carry-on duffel and made a "hurry up" gesture to her friends. "I'll get that," Dawson said, taking her bag as he joined her. "Man, I'm so not ready to go back to Capeside," Pacey said dismally. "Me either," Jen admitted with a sigh. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be back in the swing of Capeside life in no time," Bessie said, smiling tolerantly as she shifted Alexander from one hip to the other. Bodie, laden with suitcases and duffel bags, trailed behind. "That's what I'm afraid of," Pacey muttered. The group reached the gate and quickly found their seats on the small aircraft. Cloey, being first in the group, sat down by a window. Dawson hurried to join her. Jen and Pacey, of course, also sat together, and Bessie, Bodie, and Alex shared the center block of seats. Dawson rested his head on the back of his seat and sighed. He had just experienced the best vacation he'd ever had. It was wonderful, being with Cloey. He would never have thought anyone could replace Joey, not even Heather. But Cloey was so different from Joey and yet so alike. How could someone who was a genetic carbon copy of someone else turn out to be so different? He looks so peaceful, Cloey thought. During the three weeks they had spent under the sun, Dawson had gotten a nice tan and looked even better than before. She thought back to the day he had taken her sailing. ***Flashback*** "Clo! Come on!" Dawson yelled up the stairs. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Cloey said laughingly, bounding down the stairs in a very skimpy bikini and a pair of board shorts. Dawson's breath became short. He remembered how Joey had looked the day they had gone sailing, and then Heather, but neither of them measured up to what he was feeling that instant. "So we going or not?" Cloey said, breaking his thoughts. "Oh yeah," he said, holding the door open for her. "Whatever," she muttered under her breath, fighting the urge to think about the stray lock of blond hair in front of his eyes. It took all the strength in her being not to reach up and move it off his forehead. Remain calm, girl, she told herself. Dawson is Joey's--not yours, Joey's. There's no way he could ever love you, so get over him now before you hurt yourself. Together, the two walked in a comfortable silence towards the docks until they came to the pier. Dawson boarded the small sailboat tied up near the end and then extended his hands to Cloey. She took them, and he lifted her onto the boat…and into his arms. Cloey looked away for a second, working to regain her self control, then walked toward the front of the boat. "Take us away captain," she said as she laughingly saluted him. It wasn't long before they were out in the middle of the ocean cruising the waves and having fun. When Cloey declared it lunchtime and had Dawson drop anchor, they ate in silence. Dawson was surprised-it wasn't an awkward silence, as most of his and Joey's silences had been, but a comfortable, almost familiar one. As the meal ended, Cloey gathered their dishes and began washing them in the kitchenette's small sink. "Let me help," Dawson said, coming up behind her and rubbing the back of her neck gently before picking up a dishrag and beginning to dry dishes. Cloey smiled. "I never knew you had a domestic side," she said playfully, nudging him. "Well I never knew a certain famous model had a domestic side either, until I got to know her," Dawson said drying the last dish and placing it in the cabinet. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her up on deck. "Let's both get some sun." "So where to now, captain?" Cloey asked languidly as she stretched out on deck. "Where ever the wind may take us, my dear," Dawson replied, raising the anchor. ***Present Day*** Cloey sighed contentedly and looked over at a sleeping Dawson once more before going to sleep. Meanwhile, Pacey and Jen were having a very heated debate on whether or not they should try to get Dawson and Cloey together. "They seem so happy together…I can't understand why you don't agree with me!" Jen said, getting a little angry. "Sweetie, don't you see? Dawson still loves Joey. The only reason he and Cloey get along so well is because she's a lot like Joey. Besides, Joey still loves our Junior Speilberg over there," Pacey replied, gesturing over to their sleeping friend. "You really think that Joey loves Dawson and still would rather stay in New York?" Jen was incredulous. "I don't think so. If Jo really loved him, she would be over there next to him, sleeping on his shoulder." She frowned, crossing her arms for emphasis. Instead of the heated reply she had expected, though, she got a quick kiss. "I love it when you get mad," Pacey said, grinning devilishly. Jen smiled. "Then I'll try to get mad more often," she said, giving him another, deeper kiss. ***Later*** "We are now approaching Boston Airport," a stewardess announced over the intercom. "Please fasten your seatbelts and make sure your tray tables are in their upright and locked position." "Wha--?" Pacey sighed, coming up for air. "Man, and I was just getting to enjoying this." Jen, who was leaning back against the window, just looked at him and gave him a catlike smile. He groaned. Within a few minutes they had landed. As the group went down the boarding ramp and stepped into the airport, Cloey gasped. "Oh my God," she whispered, and turned away from the man standing nearby. He came up to her and took her hands in his. "Cloey, darling, please forgive me. I love you." "I told you in Sydney--I told you never to contact me again. How did you find me?" she asked, tears running down her face as she tried to break away from his grasp. Dawson looked around. Where was Cloey? Then he saw her, struggling with a tall, dark-haired young man. He rushed to her side just in time to hear her scream: "Why can't you take no for an answer? I told you I never wanted to see you again, and I meant it!" Cloey's strikingly beautiful face was tear-stained. Breaking away, she took a step backwards to find herself surrounded by Dawson's strong arms. She turned and buried her face in his sweatshirt. "I love you, Cloey. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Please come back to me." Then, the man vanished in the crowd of faceless passers-by. "Are you okay?" Dawson asked, crushing her close to him. Cloey took a few last choking sobs. "I'll be fine," she insisted, still clinging to him. Dawson nodded. "We'll talk about this later, then. Let's go." His arm around her shoulders, they hurried down to the baggage claim to rejoin the group. ***Later*** The window to Dawson's room was opened, and two figures clambered inside. At last, Dawson and Cloey were alone. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" Dawson asked. Cloey nodded. Sitting on his bed and hugging her knees, she thought back. "Well, it all began…"