. Summary: Set just before season one, it is an altered version of the series in which three friends, Joey, Pacey, and Dawson are actually friends instead of just “friends.” Warning contains cheese.  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Dawson shifted on his bed trying to maneuver off of it without disturbing the company that he shared it with. The final flicker of the credits scrolled across the screen as the tense creepy music came to a startling end. "So what'd you think." 

Joey frowned propping her chin in her hands, "I'm never going to be able to sleep again." 

Jen's face stayed frozen in a cringe, "That was just disgusting." 

"Honestly Dawson, what does the Exorcist have to do with your film in particular?" 

"Nothing," he shrugged, "it's just a classic." He filed through the pile of movies alright next choice of the Screen Play Video Collection that Pacey had smuggled under his bed, he held up two cassettes, "the Shining or I Know What you Did Last Summer?" 

"Psycho dad on the brink or a bunch of beautiful people being brutally mutilated?" Joey asked, "I'll have to go with Last Summer." 

"So is this what you guys do every Friday night?" Jen asked lifting her head off of Dawson's burgundy pillow. 

"Pretty much," Joey sighed, "we're living on the edge." 

Dawson hit play settling back between the two ladies on the bed. "And you're simply doing research for an amateur student film." 

"Well there are festivals involved," Dawson defended. 

"And prizes," Joey added flatly. 

Jen nodded looking back at the screen as a car sped across the foggy frame. Three teens sat in the back seat sipping on a bottle of champagne. Jen narrowed her eyes, "That's not Jennifer Love Hewitt." 

The blonde couple on the screen began to make out their appearances definitely not matching those of the authentic stars. 

"Come on Julie, you don't want to have a little fun," the blonde actress said. 

"I told you, I'm a virgin," she replied sternly. 

"What the hell?" Dawson said picking up the video box as the two blondes began to go at it a twanging soundtrack filling the background. "I Know Who You Did Last Summer," he read off the box before looking up at the TV. 

In unison the three tilted their heads following the positions on the screen, flinching as a loud moan wailed through the room. 

"Oh God I didn't even know that was possible," Joey said in a nauseated tone. 

Jen scrunched her nose, "That looks like it hurts." 

Dawson merely grinned, "I wonder what actress that is." 

Joey scoffed, "Probably Ivana Bangiou." 

Jen shook her head, "No, no you take the name of your first pet and the name of your street or something." 

Joey narrowed her eyes, "Isn't that your soap name." 

"No that's the middle name," she shook her head again, "like my porn name would be Fluffy Bulmont." 

Dawson laughed, "Not bad." 

Joey twitched her lips in consideration, "I think mine is Petey Brook." 

"Dawson?" Jen turned to the male. 

He blushed, "I've never had a pet." 

Joey perked up, "No you did, it was a lizard," she thought for a moment, "what was its name?" 

He dropped his head, "Stevie." 

"That's right," Joey nodded. 

"I don't get it?" Jen furrowed her brows. 

"It's a Speilburg fetish," Joey explained, "you'll understand soon enough." 

They were startled by another loud moan, their eyes jumping to the screen. Joey covered her mouth, “Oh God that’s disgusting.” 

Pacey clamored through the window barely grasping his three friend’s attention. “What’s on our platter tonight?” He asked. 

Dawson smirked, finally recognizing him, “I don’t know Ron, got any other basement films you’d like to share with us.” 

He narrowed his eyes the 70’s wonk track finally reaching his ears as his face filled with various shades of crimson, “I think I gave you the wrong tape.” 

Shutting off the VCR Joey sat up, “But now I’ll never know who she did last summer!” 

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter, by the end of the movie she does everyone anyway.” 

Jen rolled her eyes, “Sounds like another Oscar contender.” 

Dawson shrugged his shoulders, “Or at least a Dildo award.” 

Pacey crawled onto the full bed resting between Joey and Dawson’s feet, “So what’s next.” 

“I’m sick of horror movies,” Joey groaned, “let’s watch something else.” 

“Aw is Joey afraid of things that go bump in the night?” Pacey said playfully grabbing her foot. 

She kicked it away, “No it’s just I’ve seen so many shaky camera scenes running through dark forests that I honestly think I’m going to be sick.” 

“The Shinning it is,” Dawson said picking up the box. 

“Make sure it’s not porn,” Joey said dryly, “you never know with the pervs in this world today.” 

Pacey pinched her ass, “Ow, Pacey!” 

He lifted his hands defensively, “Sorry Jo, it’s the perv in me.” 

Her eyes were narrowed to slits, “Now we all know what you’re going to be when you grow up.” 

He grinned, always finding their badinage amusing, “What’s that.” 

“Some sick pervert child molester with a monkey named Boo Boo.” 

“Hey,” he pointed at her accusingly, “isn’t that a little harsh?” Her stubborn scowl didn’t even flinch. “I would never name my monkey Boo Boo, maybe George, but never Boo Boo.” 

She shook her head, “You are such a moron.” 

~*~ 

Joey pursed her lips tilting her head slightly, “My basement is my sanctuary,” she said. 

Jen shook her head, “More like, ‘Mom can Cheryl move in with us I’ve finally decided to get married.’” 

“Of course that’s a 38 year old over weight Mama’s boy, right?” 

“I was thinking 42.” 

Joey stared at the boy on the lunch line a little harder, “That could work.” 

The next student stepped up, “Bill Gate’s heir,” Jen quickly determined. 

Joey arched a brow, “I was thinking Hugh Hefner.” 

She nodded, “He does look like the type of guy who won’t start getting laid till he’s 70.” 

Next to the cash register, “Daddy finally found his missing credit card.” 

Jen cringed, “Ew what is that a State Penitentiary jumper?” 

“Good afternoon ladies,” Pacey said sitting down at their table. 

Joey gave him the one over, “Carrot Top or Andy Dick.” 

Jen giggled, “Tough call.” 

“I see you’ve pulled Jen in your little ‘Innocent Bystander Judgment Day’ game.” 

Joey shrugged her shoulders innocently, “I never said I was a nice person.” 

“Well why don’t we postpone your penitence with Satan and you help me with this book?” 

She shook her head, “Pacey you ever wonder what might happen if you just read it?” 

“I don’t know, the gates of hell would break open and civilization will be sucked into the black hole of the beyond?” He questioned. 

“No Doofus,” she took the book from his hand slapping it over his head, “You wouldn’t need my help.” 

He snatched the book back holding it up desperately, “Jo it’s a book about a herd of flies and its leader!” 

She covered her eyes with her hands, “Don’t you at least read the back cover?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s about a group of boys stranded on an island and the primordial instincts that consume them turning them into savages.” 

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” he nodded. 

“Go read it then.” 

Mary Beth stepped over to their table, “Hey, you guys,” she said hugging her books to her chest. 

“Hey,” they replied lackadaisically. 

“Have you heard about the Homecoming Dance?” She asked extending a flyer, “Student government is running it and we want to make sure everyone attends.” 

Joey forced a smile, “Sounds great.” 

“Great,” Mary Beth repeated, “It’s this Friday night, wear your blue and gold,” she finished heading off towards the next table of dining students. 

“This should be fun,” Jen said reading the paper. 

Pacey laughed, “You actually plan on going to this thing?” 

“Why not?” Jen asked, “Don’t you want some form of high school memories?” 

“None that will force me to projectile vomit,” Joey shrugged her shoulders. 

“And memories of watching horror movies in Dawson’s bedroom every Friday night won’t?” Jen cocked a brow. 

“Hey,” Pacey cut in, “those people all had it coming to them. They could have simply walked up to that extremely suspicious door or driven up to that dangerous winding road and said ‘maybe I’ll mind my own damn business’ and just turn around.” 

“The fact that at this point in your life you’ve even pondered this scenario is more then enough means for me to force you guys to come with me,” Jen said simply. 

“It’s just some lame rap music pounding incisively in the background while a bunch of our peers grind in what only resembles an orgy for an endless three hours,” Joey argued, “nothing you can’t see on Cinemax.” 

“Yeah,” Pacey added, “and the only reason anybody would go would be to slip in some alcohol thus numbing their pointless school dance experience as well as witnessing the chaperones flip a shit.” 

“Then it’s settled,” Jen nodded, “we’ll go.” 

“Not so much,” Joey shook her head. 

“Come on it will be fun,” she pleaded, “You two can go together and I’ll drag Dawson along.” 

“And from that I’m suddenly supposed to find your proposal appealing?” Joey furrowed her brows. 

Jen rolled her eyes, “Fine I’ll take Pacey and you take Dawson and we’ll just hang out. Anything to get out on a Friday night.” 

“Fine you got me,” Pacey stood from his seat, “but one thing, I don’t dance.” 

Joey followed suit, “And I don’t socialize with other people.” 

Pacey cringed, “It’s a very scary thing.” 

Jen smirked, her eyes following them as they headed out of the cafeteria, “This should be interesting,” she muttered under her breath. 

~*~

“We agreed to do what?” Dawson asked incredulously standing from his bed. 

“I know it’s a little hard to believe myself but it’s true,” Joey said. 

Jen knocked on the doorframe to Dawson’s room, “You two aren’t going to wear that are you?” 

Dawson looked down at his clothing, “Thanks now I feel self conscious.” 

“It’s a crummy school dance, not Cinderella’s Ball,” Joey refuted. 

Jen pulled on her hand, “But it’s nice to feel pretty every now and then.” She headed back towards the door, Joey trailing behind her, “We’ll be back in ten minutes.” 

Joey folded her arms over her chest uncomfortably sitting upon the bed. “Don’t press your luck; I’m not wearing a dress.” 

“Why are you so scared of exposing your feminine side?” Jen sighed filing through her closet. 

“I’m not,” Joey refuted unconvincingly. 

“Are you just afraid that if you don’t hide behind your tomboy façade that you won’t have an excuse for guys not noticing you?” 

“What are you talking about?” Joey narrowed her eyes. 

Jen handed her a skirt, “Why not give it a chance? You may be pleasantly surprised.” 

Joey inspected the skirt before looking back up at the blonde, “Look Jen, I’ve never really had a ‘girlfriend’ before, so this sisterhood clothing sharing bond thing that you’re trying to form with me is a little foreign.” 

“I’m not expecting slumber parties and manicures,” Jen defended, “I just want you to know that I understand that things are changing, I’m going through them all too, and I’m here to talk to.” 

She cracked a half grin, “Thanks.” 

Pulling out a lipstick she screwed out the milky tip, “Now would I be asking too much to include the lipstick?” 

Joey rolled her eyes, “Don’t push your luck.”

Her phone rang and she rushed to the phone, “Hello?” 

“Hey Jenny, is that you?” 

“Billy?” She narrowed her eyes. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if this was the right number,” he paused, “how are you feeling?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she quickly hushed. 

“Jen,” he said more sternly. 

“It’s not important, it’s over now.” 

“It is important though if it affects me.” 

She frowned, “I’m not even sure if it does.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice rose slightly, “Was it even mine?” 

She looked over at Joey before heading towards the window, “Look I’ve made a lot of mistakes, you know that.” 

“You whore,” she could hear the pain in his voice, “I want to know what happened.” 

“I’m not sure about everything that happened my last few months in New York, it was all a blur.” 

“Jenny, tell me what happened,” he nearly plead, “was the baby mine?” 

She could feel an assault of tears approaching, “I don’t know.” 

“You slut,” his voice was biting, “when will you actually start to care about other people’s emotions instead of stepping on every single heart you come in contact with? When will you get over that bull shit with your dad and just feel emotion?” 

She sniffed back her whimper trying to stay strong, “I’ve got to go Billy.” 

Turning back to Joey she forced a smile, “We should get going.” 

~*~ 

The hallways alone were means to state a retreat, to head for the hills and become some sort of secluded monk. Digging his hands deeply into his pockets Pacey leaned against the locker row waiting for his friends to join him, hoping that it wasn’t some sort of sick joke that brought him here in the first place. 

"Like oh my God! Pacey, is that you?" Joey mocked flipping her hair as the 'gang' strolled up. 

He grinned, "Josephine," his eyes trailed down her body a curious brow raising at the striped blue skirt she wore, "you pay full price for that or did they give it to you half off?" 

"Not funny," she punched his arm. 

"No, no," he shook his head, "you look… almost feminine." 

"I think she looks beautiful," Jen cut in. 

Pacey's smirk widened as he leaned in towards Dawson, "I think I'm about to live out my hormonal male fantasy." 

"Gross, not like that," Jen smacked him as well. 

The streamers were the first warning sign, the twists of blue and yellow that already lye torn helplessly on the gym's floor. Warning number two was the howl of some one hit wonder that in the eyes of the youth was the greatest song ever made. The third warning would have been the questionable dancing, the rolling of bodies between any member of any sex that could be mistaken for any mating ritual. 

Taking one step into the room Joey quickly turned on her heels, "Now that I've crossed this off my list of life achievements, I think I'm ready to go home." 

"I concur," Dawson said, "I heard they're showing a Cary Grant-a-thon at the Rialto tonight, all in favor say 'aye.'" 

"Aye," Pacey and Joey both threw up a hand heading for the gymnasium exit. 

"Not so fast," Jen stepped in front of them, "I'm sure if you give this a chance, you'll find it marginally entertaining." 

"Fine," Dawson sighed, "Joey since apparently I'm your escort tonight," he held out a hand, "may I have the pleasure of this dance?" 

She grinned meeting his gesture, "Very suave Mister Leery, how could a girl refuse?" 

Stepping out onto the dance floor, also known as the basket ball court, all sense of manners were thrown out the window with the atrocious beat of the hip hop tune. 

“I feel like a moron,” Dawson said simply trying to keep up with the dancers around them. 

“I’m sure you look like one too,” Joey laughed. 

“Whatever happened to the simplicity of Strictly Ballroom?” 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Went out the window with them baggy pants.” 

“It can’t be that hard to mimic.” 

Joey looked around, “Sorry, I left my skank pills at home.” 

Watching them from across the gym a strange feeling of jealousy crossed through Pacey Witter’s mind. He couldn’t exactly explain it, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. He hadn’t really considered Joey as anything other then his sparring partner, yet the way she smiled as she danced with Dawson made him wish that he was the one that was making her happy. 

He looked away; Joey was his friend, his and Dawson’s friend and nothing more. They had all been through too much together to start forming non-platonic feelings. They all knew each other too well to be dumb enough to fall for the other, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling. 

“You look awfully lonely you know,” Joey said stepping beside him. 

He nearly jumped his eyes jumping back to the dance floor noticing their absence “Just admiring the view,” he shrugged. 

She wiped her hands down the flower blue skirt trying to brush away the feeling of exposure that washed over her, “There’s a great angle over there,” she nodded towards the dance floor. 

“No kidding,” he smirked, “did you take any Polaroids?” 

She grinned, “Sorry left the camera at home.” She tugged the skirt down a little further till the hem rested just above her knee, “It’s better to experience it though anyway.” 

“Guess I’ll have to live through the stories,” he said looking around, “where’s Dawson?” 

“The public urinal calls,” she turned to him taking his hand, “Come on, dance with me.” 

“Have I not told you enough the simple fact that I don’t dance?” 

She laughed, “Neither do I, but trust me these moves require little to no skill.” 

He stood firm in his stance having to balance himself as she pulled on him with all of her weight, “No thanks I’m good.” 

“Pacey,” she said simply her glossy Bambi eyes coming on full assault. 

He pursed his lips, “Fine, fine.” 

She grinned content, “Good then, let’s go.” 

The slow love ballad continued to drone through the speakers as numerous couples rocked awkwardly to the beat. 

“You look,” he thought for a moment, “not horrible tonight.” 

She scoffed, “Thanks, I think.” 

“No it’s good,” his nerves were getting the best of him, “trust me.” 

His hand settled cautiously on the small of her back, his clammy palms molding against her white blouse. She narrowed her eyes, “Are your palms sweating.” 

He had to run a thumb over the sole of his hand to realize it, “Yeah, it’s so hot in here.” 

“Oh,” she said almost disappointedly. 

“So I guess tonight wasn’t as bad as we thought it would be.” 

Her lips twitched in contemplation, “It hasn’t sucked.” 

“You looked like you were having a good time before,” he said nonchalantly. 

“I guess,” she said with a tinge of confusion. 

“I mean when you were dancing with Dawson you seemed to be having a good time,” he elaborated. 

“What are you getting at?” 

“Nothing,” he quickly shook off. 

His foot nearly stepped on hers as he moved off beat against the music causing her to smirk. 

“So do you love him or something?” 

“What?” She asked caught off guard. 

“Dawson, do you love him or something,” he repeated. 

“Of course I do he’s my friend.” 

“I mean are you in love with him,” he explained, “it just seemed that you were in love with him or something.” 

“Why are you…” she trailed off, “No, he’s just my friend, like you.” She nearly laughed, “Kissing him would be like kissing my brother.” 

His eyes pierced through hers his gaze so sharp and intense that she nearly looked away, but she couldn’t, “What about me?” 

She chocked on her words, ones that she wasn’t sure she intended to utter, ones that only left her confused. She swallowed hard looking down at their feet, “You really are a terrible dancer,” she said. 

He cleared his throat, blinking his eyes a few times, “I never said I was any good.” 

“Well not that terrible,” she corrected, “just not that well.” 

“Thanks,” he chuckled, “I think.” 

~*~

Jen dipped the ladle in the punch bowl lifting it up and watching the contents spew out of the spoon like a waterfall back into the pond. Her eyes drifted over the crowded gym a sea of strangers that only appeared vaguely familiar. 

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” She nearly jumped. 

“Excuse me?” She asked. 

“A goddess like you shouldn’t be here all by herself,” he said suavely. 

“And I’m assuming that you’re volunteering to keep me company,” she cocked an amused brow. 

“It’s a one time offer,” scratch suave and replace with arrogant. 

She narrowed her eyes, “I have better prospects.” 

“Really,” he stepped closer then comfort, “where are they exactly?” 

She stepped away from him, “What’s your problem?” 

“Nothing,” he followed after her, “you just looked a little lost that’s all.” 

“I’m fine,” she replied simply. 

“Are you new here or something, I mean I’m pretty sure I know everybody in this town and to not recognize a pretty face only leads me to the conclusion that you’re new,” he explained. 

“You know you can quit it with your lines and just leave me alone,” she said. 

He grinned, “Feisty.” Holding out a hand he said, “Chris Wolfe.” 

“Congratulations,” she said dryly, perhaps she had been spending too much time with Joey Potter. 

“Where you from Mysterious Blonde Goddess?” He asked trying to ignore her attitude. 

She rolled her eyes, “New York, are you happy now?” 

“Almost,” he smirked, “now all I need is your name and my evening will be complete.” 

She sighed, “Jen.” 

“You Jen are really something,” he continued, “in fact if you aren’t busy later, I’ve got a way to really spice this little shindig up.” 

“And how is that?” 

Pulling open his coat pocket he revealed a flask of Peach Schnapps. “I happen to know a lovely spot on the football field under the stars where we can have some cocktails and maybe…” he ran a hand down her arm softly, “get to know each other a bit better.” 

“How original,” she said flatly reaching into his coat and pulling out the flask, boldly pouring it into her punch before setting it back in his pocket, “but I’m not that easy.” 

~*~

"Here's how I see it," Dawson circled his cast stroking his chin with his forefingers. "You're standing at the end of the dock. This is like your spot, your sanctuary. Stephanie's parents don't understand her attraction to Stephen and they want to stop it but the love you two feel will never keep you apart so you meet at this old abandoned dock." 

"Like that place in Mice and Men," Pacey added shooting Joey a wink. 

Her eyes stayed trained on him in wonderment, his strange behavior from the dance replaying through her head as if on constant loop. 

"Why not," Dawson shrugged, "so the conflict that you two feel of being forced to part is overwhelming. So overwhelming that Stephanie wants to run away, she wants to give up on the power of love because she's scared. In this scene however, Stephen makes her realize that he's worth it, that they could move mountains to be together." 

"Why don't you just tell us grotesque make out scene and let us be done with it," Joey suggested folding her arms lazily across her stomach. 

"If it helps, then run with it," Dawson said swiping a hand through his hair. "Now I want to get this in multiple shots all before we lose this sunset, so I want you to go on your marks and stay there." 

The two looked down at the colored tape placed on the dock measuring the distance, "But that's like three inches away from her," Pacey argued. 

Joey pressed her lips together, “Make it quick, I don’t know how long my stomach will hold.” 

“Just get on your marks,” Dawson said stalking back towards his equipment. 

“Potter,” Pacey said challenging stepping onto his blue tape. 

“Witter,” she replied stepping onto her yellow. 

Adjusting the lens Dawson said, “Ready, and…action.” 

“I saw it,” Joey said in an attempt to catch her breath, “It’s big and ugly, and it’s out there.” 

Pacey steadied her shoulders tipping her chin to look at him, “I may not believe you Stephanie, but I believe in you.” 

She looked at him questioningly, “But what about the monster?” 

“Forget the monster.” 

“What about my mother?” 

“It’s only you and me here now,” he refuted brushing his thumb across her cheek. 

“Stephen we can’t—.” 

“Shhhh,” he pressed a finger against her mouth before replacing it with his lips. The shifted awkwardly over hers at first before her compliance finally molded them together her tongue instinctively sliding over his lower lip before he met her intensity, his tongue darting into her welcoming cavern. 

Stephen and Stephanie were lost in a lustful overdrive, a magnetic attraction that was becoming harder to resist. 

“And cut,” Dawson called out. 

Pulling apart Joey nervously licked her lips. 

“Hey, hey, Potter,” Pacey protested, “I don’t remember ever agreeing to tongue.” 

Her jaw nearly dropped, “It was only a reflex to your slimy little tongue trying to invade my mouth,” she defended. 

“Action,” Dawson called out again, immediately their lips gravitating for one another meeting in a twisted mating ritual of passionate kisses. 

Primordial inheritance was the only explanation Joey could conjure as she pressed her body against his. Quickly refuting that choice she blamed Seventeen magazine and that goddamn subscription she continued to pay for. Her knees went weak and before she could stop it a moan passed through her lips. She could feel the blush of red flush her cheeks almost as well as she could feel Pacey’s smiling lips kissing her in amusement. 

“Cut,” Dawson called out again adjusting the position of his camera. 

“Was that a growl I heard?” Pacey asked smugly. 

“No,” she shook her head furiously, “it was a gag, lunch is trying to force out a reappearance a little early.” 

He grinned, “I think you’re lying,” he said smugly. 

“Oh really,” she could feel her knees going weak as his proximity continued to affect her. 

“Yeah,” he voice deepened to a dark whisper, “I think you’re hot for me.” 

A smile danced across her lips challenging, “I think you’re delusional.” 

“Oh really?” He questioned, “So truthfully you wouldn’t give anything to ravage me right here on this dock?” 

She narrowed her eyes, “You are such a pervert.” 

“You are such a prude.” 

“Action,” Dawson called out again. 

Barely even hearing his call their lips met again in a fierce battle. His hands ran up her sides smoothing over every curve, their tongues fought for dominance delving deeper with every stroke. And what scared her was that she kind of liked it. 

“Cut,” Dawson said setting down the camera, “and that kiss is finally a wrap.” 

Joey pulled away looking into Pacey’s eyes questioningly. She couldn’t read his eyes, she never could, and at that moment she wished she was able too. A wash of insecurities flooded her as she stepped back, “You know this script really doesn’t make any sense,” she said trying to hide her disposition. “I really don’t think I can deliver these lines anymore. Especially across from him,” she pointed to Pacey, “I mean his acting is Power Ranger bad. I can’t work like this,” she finished stalking across the lawn. 

Dawson looked at Pacey pointedly. 

“What did I do?” He asked defensively. 

~*~ 

Jogging up the stairs Dawson tossed Joey’s mannequin hand from hand to hand casually making his way towards his room. Nudging open the door he searched around his desk for his paintbrush. 

Joey lye helplessly on his bed her hands clutching her head, "Dawson there's something wrong with Me." 

"I know," he nodded, "I just choose to ignore It." 

Her hands rubbed her face fiercely contorting it into odd angles, "I like Pacey Witter," she mumbled. 

Unfazed he continued to sift through his arts and crafts drawer in search of his paint pallet. 

She twitched her lips sitting up on her elbows, "Did you hear me?" 

He turned his head to her, "Yeah, sure," he said. 

"Well why aren't you saying anything then?" She asked desperately, "Where's the speech about how we hate one another, and how we'll rip off our own heads before we ever complement the other. Or how it will mess up the balance of our group, how we'll screw up the friendships segregating you and then forcing you to choose sides when we break up? Where are the simple words, 'that's a bad idea?'" 

"Because I'm nearly positive that you're just some pod person pretending to be Joey," Dawson explained, "because that's the only way I'm hearing what I'm hearing." 

She smiled falling back against the bed, "Thank you." 

Sitting on the mattress beside her he cradled her fake head in his hand inspecting the curves as he spoke, "But hypothetically speaking that you did in fact have a 'thang' for one Mister Pacey J. Witter, then I'd be forced to ask you what you intend on doing about it." 

"I don't know." 

"Why not?" 

She pursed her lips, "Because, he's like two different people. There are moments when I feel crazy about him, the way he looks at me, the way he treats me, the moments when he doesn't feel he has to impress anybody." She sighed, "But at the same time there are moments that I want to ring his little neck. His immaturity and sexual intentions and his arrogance isn't always appealing." 

"So what are you going to do about it?" 

She shut her eyes firmly, "Wait for the hormones to pass and pray for the end of puberty." 

Dawson chuckled, "Good luck."