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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
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The leaves rustled in the late summer wind, the healthy greens being
consumed by a dull winter as the first signs of New England’s notorious
foliage seeped through the land. The bicycle cocked against the sleeping
tree slid down the length falling unnoticed against the ground, the spoke
of the wheel spinning in response.
Across the lawn lye a mirror to the sky, each star mimicked in the subtle
undulations of the water as they shined their brilliance, the moon nearly
full and bright. The weathered row boat rocked with the current crashing
against the old dock before rolling back a small distance and charging
again, never freeing itself from its chains.
A light flickered in the window overlooking the creek, its contents
shadowed by a shade blocking the surveillance of trespassers. It was easily
accessible however with an inviting ladder cocked beside it only inviting
few to enter. The breeze caught the shade blowing it away from the window
sill another flash of light bursting through, a peek of some unknown world
poking through briefly. Another flutter swung the barrier back a plastic
hand waving to onlookers.
“Pacey would you put that down?” Dawson reached over snatching the spurious
limb from the brunette’s hand.
“I’m bored man,” Pacey whined, “when do I get to go home?”
“We still have three minutes,” he explained glancing down at his watch.
The window shade was pushed aside again as Joey Potter tripped through
the sill. “I should have known it was your bike that nearly killed me on
my trek up here,” she sneered at Pacey.
“Accidents do happen Jo,” he said with a wink, “but until then we can
only pray, right?”
She narrowed her eyes brushing her thick mop of auburn hair behind her
ears, “I still don’t see the point of doing this,” she said kicking off
her sneakers.
“It’s tradition Jo,” Dawson protested, “and you don’t want to muck up
with tradition.”
“Strange things happen,” Pacey threw in mocking his blonde friend, “crazy
things!”
Dawson tossed a pillow at him, “Would you stop that.”
“Aw, did Pacey hurt Dawson’s feelings?” Joey teased mussing up Dawson’s
hair before taking a seat beside him on the bed.
“Enough you guys,” he whined glancing back at his watch. “Alright, ten,
nine, eight, seven…”
Joey twitched her lips her eyes scanning the room as he continued to
count, “…six, five, four, three, two, and one.”
She frowned, “I don’t feel any different.”
“Happy birthday,” Pacey said dryly, “now can I go home?”
“Fifteen is a big year,” Dawson cut in ignoring his friend’s protest.
“Don’t listen to him,” Pacey shook his head settling back into the director’s
chair reading ‘Dawson Leery.’ “I have been fifteen years old for six months
now and trust me; I don’t feel a day over thirteen.”
“That’s not surprising,” she rolled her eyes, “you don’t act a day over
eight.” She clasped her hands together, “So tell me boys, what does this
year entail?”
“High school,” Dawson explained, “we’re going to be in high school.”
“Great,” she rested her head in her hand, “another thing to loose sleep
over.”
“And why is that?” Pacey asked eliciting a creek from the fragile chair
as he reclined back propping his feet beside her on the bed.
"Not that you would care or anything, but in three short years we're
getting out of this God forsaken town, every grade counts."
Pacey grinned, "More importantly then that, we get to experience the
finer female specimen, the high school girl."
"Technically they're the same girls you went to junior high with," Joey
corrected.
He shook his head, "Yeah, well now they have breast."
She narrowed her eyes, "Your maturity astounds me," she said flatly.
"You know Josephine, for a tomboy you vulgarity leaves much to be desired,"
Pacey said shaking a finger at her.
"Bite me."
"I'm saving it for a special occasion," he winked.
"You two can be so irritating sometimes," Dawson broke in.
Joey shrugged her shoulders, "It's my birthday, I can bitch if I want
to."
"Amen sister Christian!"
She changed positions bouncing back on the bed so that she was facing
the television by the window, "So what are we going to have a Birthday
Movie Marathon?"
"Not unless you find your birthday cheer in Night of the Living Dead
and The Blob," Pacey said filing through the movies.
She cocked her brows towards Dawson, "Still doing research for you horror
flick?"
He set his jaw, "It's not a flick, it's a film and it's not distinctly
in the horror genre. It's a story of growth, romance, drama…"
"Understanding, beauty, and killing people," Pacey and Joey finished
in unison.
"I prefer the power of death," he corrected.
"Well when are we filming the power of Joey's death?" Pacey asked clasping
his hands together, "Because I want to get some extra pictures of that."
"Cretin!" She exclaimed through slit lids.
Dawson chuckled, "That comes after we shoot the passionate kiss at four
different angles it's the climax of the film. The moment we find out if
Steve will follow his heart or his beastly urges."
"I move the kiss is revoked," Joey through a hand in the air.
"I second the motion," Pacey followed suit, "all in favor say aye."
"Aye," the two said at in unison.
"Majority rule, kiss is revoked," Joey finalized.
"Well the director says 'nay'," Dawson cut in, "movement overturned."
"Fascist," she muttered under her breath.
"Shooting is tomorrow," he finished.
"Just send me the call sheet and I'll be over for my scenes," Pacey
said smugly pulling a pair of sunglasses off of Dawson's desk and slipping
them over his eyes.
"What else could you possibly have to do tomorrow?" Dawson smirked.
"I'm just keeping my options open," he explained, "Halle's been dying
for an appointment with Me."
Joey stared at him blankly, "Wow you're mother must be doing a lot more
sheet laundry."
"And you say I'm gross," he pointed an accusing finger towards the girl.
"I'm free for filming tomorrow till five o'clock actually, Pop's throwing
a little good bye bash for Gretchen before she goes off to college."
Dawson perked up, "When's Gretchen leaving?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "I don’t know, Friday?"
Joey poked out her tongue at him, "Ooo, Dawson you going to give Gretchen
the letter, revisions 9354?"
"56, Josephine," Pacey corrected.
"Not without one last proof read," Dawson defended.
Pace shrugged, "I guess I can extend an invitation to you two, so long
as there is minimal contact between us. Tomorrow night Stacey Montgomery
is all mine," he grinned slyly. “Stacey and Pacey, like Cagney and Lacey,
together forever we’ll be,” he sang suavely.
"Like you'd even know how, Pacey," Joey narrowed her eyes.
"She's been checking me out for weeks!" He defended.
"That's because you look anemic in a swim suit," she explained, "she
was probably wondering what that light house was doing in your back yard."
"Don't use this as an arena to vent your jealousy Potter," he warned.
She laughed, Dawson unfolded his letter scanning the scribbled words
intently, "Do you think the line 'You complete me' is too corny?" He broke
in.
Joey and Pacey both stifled a laugh, "No D, it's perfect."
~*~
She dragged her tongue across her lower lip, placing her hands firmly
on her hips before shutting her eyes tightly, "Alright let's get this over
with."
"Finally," Dawson exclaimed. "Are you two positively sure?" It was now
half past three the hot summer sun baking them to a crisp as they stood
on the edge of his dock the camera positioned perfectly for the shot. At
eleven thirty Pacey needed a bathroom break. At one o'clock lunch breaks
were a necessity. Two fifteen had brought Joey's incisive demands for breath
mints, two forty five a mandatory television break. Three fifteen Pacey
needed a snack break. Three thirty Dawson had decided, filming would begin.
"Yes," Pacey nodded dramatically, "the sooner we get this over with
the better."
"Alright then," he smiled content, "Places…and, action."
Joey rocked on her feet looking around frantically, "I saw it, it's
big and it's ugly and it's out there."
Pacey smirked placing his hands on each shoulder to steady her, "I may
not believe you Stephanie," he said suavely, "but I believe in you."
"But what about the monster," she gestured towards the water.
He chuckled drawing his face towards her, "What monster?" He asked pressing
his lips against hers.
Joey cringed pushing him away, "Ew god Pacey what did you eat?"
He laughed cynically, "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot," he blocked his hand
over his mouth blowing against it and inhaling his breath. "You hate halepanos
don't you?"
"Pacey," Dawson rolled his eyes, "can you act professional for five
minutes, please?"
"I'm an actor," he explained, "I'm supposed to be difficult."
"Can we just kill him instead?" Joey asked folding her arms over her
chest.
"I'm on the brink of a rewrite," Dawson agreed narrowing his eyes at
his best friend.
“Look it’s not like I can’t do it,” Pacey cringed, “It’s just that the
material…” he trailed off. “It’s a little weak.”
“What are you trying to say?” Dawson folded his arms over his chest.
Pacey pat him on the back, “Well you’re no Orson Wells, man.”
Joey narrowed her eyes, “Well last time I checked neither were you.”
“Alright then Pace,” Dawson began, “what are you suggesting?”
Picking up a script he filed through some pages, “This romance thing,
sure it sounds good on paper but in real life…let’s face it, Josephine
and I lack the chemistry necessary to convey the love.”
“If you call me Josephine one more time so help me I will beat you,”
Joey sneered.
“See,” Pacey gestured towards his fuming co-star.
“So you want to cut the entire love story, the basis for all the emotional
conflict within this piece?”
“Essentially yes,” Pacey nodded.
“I think he’s got a point,” Joey ganged up.
“Director’s rule,” he rose a hand, “romance stays.”
“I’m thinking of a coup d’etat,” Pacey whispered in Joey’s ear.
She nodded, “Creek Kamikaze?”
“I knew there was a reason I hung out with you,” he grinned.
Shaking hands briefly they stalked their oblivious blonde counterpart,
stepping behind him Pacey smirked, “You know Dawson you’re right the kiss,
the love story, it’s all perfect.”
He furrowed his heavy brows, “What are you two getting at?”
“Nothing,” Joey said innocently, “were we up to anything Pace?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Pacey added before gesturing his head towards
the creek.
Joey nodded, “one, two, three!”
With that their director was splashing towards the surface of the creek
shaking drenching water from his long locks of hair, “Funny guys, real
funny.”
Joey plopped down in Dawson’s director’s chair, “It’s a wrap,” she exclaimed
in a deep voice.
“There’s no avoiding it,” Dawson huffed climbing out of the water, “you
two will kiss, I guarantee it.”
“I was thinking of liver and onions for lunch tomorrow, it is going
to be an afternoon shot right?” Pacey said.
Dawson laughed menacingly, “Oh you two won’t be eating, not until a
decent amount of spit is swapped.”
Joey cringed, “When you put it that way…I quit.”
“Jo,” he sighed.
“Can’t we just cut the kiss and turn it into some pseudo masturbation
scene?” she suggested, “Pacey’s a pro at the one hand dance.”
“This is a student film festival,” he protested, “you can’t put that
stuff in a movie.”
“But you can’t show violence and killing people?” Joey asked incredulously,
“I say we do it Norman Bates style.”
“I’m not going to rip off some other movie.”
“Like you haven’t ripped off every other film from the genre,” Pacey
chuckled.
“I’ll think about it,” the others cheered, “but that doesn’t mean your
exempt, bring the lip smackers.”
They frowned, “fine,” each muttered.
Pacey checked down at his watch, “I got to get home, part preparations
and such, I’ll see you two later, okay?”
“Yeah, Pace,” Dawson nodded gathering some cords as he began to pack
up.
“That was productive,” Joey concluded rising from her chair and heading
towards the camera to help.
“You two are the bane of my existence,” Dawson joked brushing a hand
through his hair.
“It’s not my fault,” she shrugged innocently, “you’re the one who invited
him into our little click.”
He rolled his eyes, “As I recall, Pacey and I were friends for about
two years before you marched into our area of the playground.”
“Technicalities,” she rolled off placing the lens cap. “I know you like
me better anyway.”
“Funny Pacey said the same thing yesterday,” he winked.
“And you corrected him right?” He began walking back towards the house;
Joey followed him on his heels, “Right?”
Dawson shrugged his shoulders as they headed through the living room.
“Hey Mister and Misses Leery,” Joey waved to the two adults making out
on the couch as she continued to chase her friend up the stairs.
“What do you think of this shirt?” Dawson asked holding up a stripped
sweater.
She folded her arms over her chest, “I think you were better off with
your mommy picking out your clothing.”
He narrowed his eyes, “I need to look suave, like a college guy,” he
explained.
“Funny,” she smirked, “you’ve been trying to look like a high school
guy for the past three years.”
“I’ve got to keep up with the changing time Joey.”
She stood up searching through his closet, “Fine this one.”
“Should I really be taking your advice?” He thought for a moment.
She punched him in the shoulder, “Do you want to woe this Witter woman?”
He nodded, “Good point.”
Joey rested her hands on her hips, “Alright now, smile.”
He obliged morphing his mouth into a wide smile. Her nose crinkled,
“Less teeth you look like a cereal killer.”
He frowned as she brushed her fingers through his hair mussing it around
until she was content, “Perfect,” she decided. “Now, what are you going
to say to her?”
“I was thinking of starting off with ‘Hi’,” he said.
She shook her head, “Hi is so junior high. ‘Hey’ now that’s the words
of a suave college guy.”
Dawson nodded filing it away for latter, “Okay then what?”
“Hmm,” she thought scanning through his closet, “start with a compliment,
girls love those and to keep her attention add in a new one every two minutes
or when the conversation is going sour.”
“Complements, right.”
“And get to the point,” she shot him with an accusing finger, “no babbling,
it’s terribly boring.”
“I do not babble,” he protested.
She smirked, “Right.” She picked out another shirt throwing it to him,
“And leave your goofy love letter till the—.”
“It’s not goofy,” he corrected.
“Whatever, just leave it till the end, don’t give her a chance to read
it while you’re there, be mysterious.”
He nodded again, “Alright, ‘Hey’, complements, babble free, mysterious,”
he said to himself.
Joey fought back a laugh, “I think you’re ready slugger.”
“What about you, what are you going to do there?” He asked turning to
his friend.
“I don’t know I’ll hang out with Pacey or something.”
“Stacey,” he said simply.
“Pacey and Stacey?” She rolled her eyes, “yeah right,” she laughed,
“maybe I’ll find my own dream boy.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he grinned.
“Just because I don’t want to paint my nails and deal with the petty
arguments of my fellow female specimen, doesn’t mean I don’t have the same
interests.”
“Still,” he patted her shoulder, “you’re one of the guys, Jo.”
She shrugged her shoulders, “Then consider me your gay best friend or
something.”
He shook his head, “No, maybe if I stare at your breasts for long enough
I can differentiate.”
She rolled her eyes, “You’ve spending too much time with Pacey.” She
turned towards the window, “Can we go now?”
He pulled on the flannel shirt she picked out swiping his hand through
his hair one last time, “Sure let’s go.”
She climbed through the frame stopping as she looked across the lawn
her eyes stopping on a flashing vehicle. “What’s going on?”
Dawson poked out his head his gaze following hers, “Do you think it’s
Mister Ryan?”
She frowned, “He’s really sick isn’t he?”
“My mom said that his heart is collapsing or something and they have
all this artificial stuff holding it together.”
“No matter how much I detest the Wicked Witch of the West I don’t want
Mister Ryan dying,” she bit back her lip her eyes suddenly burning with
tears. “Remember that time when we were eight and he gave us the tire off
his old Chevy. We hung it on the tree and swung on it for hours.”
Dawson smiled faintly, “And on Halloween when we went Trick or Treating
there he’d always tell us about Misses Ryan and her witch’s brew because
he knew how much we feared her.”
Her lips curled into a crooked smile as she bat away a falling tear,
“Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
He dropped his gaze, “I hope so.” He looked back down at his watch,
“We should get going.”
~*~
Joey squinted her eyes focusing intently on the ceiling, her brows quivering
in concentration as she tried to identify what exactly the stain looked
like. She remembered when it was made, second grade, the three of them
had made Jell-O water balloons. Pacey had shot her squarely in the back,
she had jumped, her balloon went with her, the ceiling never had a chance.
Kenny Rogers she concluded, drumming her hands against her stomach.
She twisted her head inhaling the scent on the pillow, it smelt like Herbal
Essence, she laughed. She looked over at Pacey and Dawson primping in the
mirror. Propping herself on her elbows she arched a brow, “Who’s supposed
to be the girl in this relationship.”
Pacey turned an annoyed expression towards her, “I’m sorry, were you
talking?”
“When you said ‘party’ I didn’t know it was just code name for ‘hang
out in your room like every other Friday night’,” Joey explained.
“The door’s open, you can go bump and grind your night away,” Pacey
gestured towards the door.
“Maybe I will,” she retorted stubbornly.
“My letter,” Dawson perked up, “I forgot the letter.”
“At least this night was marginally productive,” Joey said flatly.
“It was my pitch!”
Pacey pat him on the back, “Trust me man, I read the letter, it’s not
going to win Gretchen over.”
“You’re her brother,” Dawson turned to him, “what is?”
“Hmm,” he contemplated, “a real jackass, she’s been dating a lot of
those.”
“That can’t be too hard,” Joey winked.
“You guys this can be the single most important moment of my life!”
Dawson whined, “Could we please be serious?”
Pacey sucked in his lower lip before nodding, “Alright, what did Joey
tell you to do?”
“Say h—.”
“Forget it all,” he silenced him. “What you’re going to do is walk over
to her confidently,” he said stepping towards Joey. “If she’s alone tell
her that ‘It is a crime against humanity that someone so beautiful has
no one there to make her smile’.”
“What if she’s not alone?”
“Then wait for your moment,” he explained. “If she smiles, which she
will, then take her hand,” he demonstrated on Joey, “and lay a kiss on
her knuckles. ‘Would you like to dance?’ You’ll ask as if you were Cary
Grant and every other man in the room was Charlie Chaplin, well except
for me I’m like Gregory Peck.”
Joey rolled her eyes snatching her hand away, Pacey shook his head scooping
her into his arms, “So now you’re dancing. Be a gentlemen, hand on the
small of her back,” he showed him the proper position, “don’t dip too low,”
he cupped Joey’s ass, she kneed him in the groin.
Dawson cringed as he watched Pacey keel over in pain, “I’ll definitely
remember that one.”
Joey grabbed Pacey’s hand helping him back up, “I’m sorry, it was a
reflex,” she feigned innocence.
“Funny Potter,” he took a few final deep breaths before standing up
straight again. “So you’re dancing,” he said sweeping Joey back into his
arms, his hand firmly planted on her butt. She narrowed her eyes at him,
he simply smirked, “And you’re going to look deeply into her eyes, maybe
brush back a couple of strands of hair from her eyes. Then you’re going
to say, ‘I’ve known you for so long, admiring you from a far, from the
day I first met you I knew you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever
come in contact with. And now after all these years, I feel this is my
last chance to tell you how much I care about you, how special I think
you are’.” His eyes bore into hers and for a second she forgot how to breathe.
His hand began to stroke the curve of her ass, his thumb drawing small
circles on her lower back as he drew her closer, “’Nobody cares about you
like I do, nobody thinks about you like I do, nobody could ever love you
like I do’,” Joey’s eyes quivered as she licked her lips dragging her bottom
one between her teeth. Abruptly he turned his head back towards Dawson,
“Are you getting all of this man, you may want to write it down.”
Joey frowned stepping out of his embrace and wiping her hands nervously
over her jeans, it was Pacey she easily concluded.
“So can we go then?” Joey asked nervously.
Dawson took in a deep breath, “Yeah I’m ready.”
Pacey placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, “By the way, Dawson if
you touch her in any ungodly ways, I will be forced to kill you.”
“Right,” he nodded before heading towards his door.
Joey poked her head out the door glancing down the hall the faint sound
of music roaring from the living room, “How great could this party be with
your grandparents attempting the booty shake?” She questioned.
Pacey brushed past her, “Simple, the real party’s downstairs, I helped
Greg drag the keg to the basement this morning.”
She perked up, “Greg’s here? Why didn’t you tell me he was going to
be here?”
He grinned evilly, “It must have slipped my mind.”
Dawson furrowed his brows, “Isn’t that Joey’s lover boy waiter?”
“He’s not my lover boy,” Joey said stubbornly, “he’s just bus boy at
the Icehouse.”
“That Joey’s in love with,” Pacey added.
“I’m not in love with him,” she bit back folding her arms over her chest.
“Then it doesn’t matter that he’s here,” he concluded placing a hand
on each of her shoulders and guiding her down the hall with Dawson close
behind.
“So when’s the best moment for Operation Dream Girl?” Dawson asked digging
his hands into his pockets.
“Now we have mission titles?” Joey cocked a brow, “Can I be Night Falcon?
Or no wait, PJ.”
“Why PJ?” Pacey furrowed his brows.
She held up a finger gun, “Potter, Joey Potter.”
“Fine then I’m BJ,” Pacey decided.
“Pacey you’re so gross,” Joey shoved his shoulder.
“Bond, James Bond,” Dawson filled in.
“No she was right,” he said dropping an arm across her shoulder.
Dawson shook his head, “We’re being serious remember? When do I make
my move?”
“Hmm,” he considered, “I’ll give you a signal, like toast a cup to you.”
Dawson nodded, “Toasted cup, got it. What do I do till then?”
Joey placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Don’t act like a dick
weed.”
“Count on your friends to always make you feel better,” he said flatly
following them down the stairs.
Thralls of graduated high school students lounged around the couches,
made out in the corners, crowded the keg, and gyrated on their make shift
dance floor. The three had experienced them before, hiding at the top of
the steps peeking down at the foreign world, imitating their dance steps
and giggling at their kisses. But now they were a part of it practicing
conduct for the high school parties of their generation.
“Alright D,” Pacey said leading them through the basemen, “see that,”
he gestured towards the keg, “stay away from that and if you must touch
it, one cup is your limit.”
“I can hold my alcohol,” he lied.
Pacey nodded, “Sure man.”
“And Jo, not that I care or anything, but if anybody gives you something
opened, please don’t drink it.”
“Thanks dad,” she said dryly.
He stopped in mid-step, a smile etching his lips, “There she is, Stacey
Montgomery, girl of my dreams.” He said eyeing the tall blonde talking
to another girl in the corner. She wore a shirt black skirt her long stick
like legs ending at a pair of platform sandals, her cleavage was plentiful
in her low cut baby blue top. Pacey turned to Joey, “How do I look?”
She rolled her eyes, “Brad Pitt ain’t got nothing on you.”
“Be careful doll,” he poked her nose, “I almost believed you that time.”
“This should be interesting,” Joey said to Dawson as they watched their
friend march towards Stacey.
“I can’t watch,” he shut his eyes tightly.
“Don’t worry I’ll give you details,” Joey said grabbing his hand and
dragging him after her.
“Hey there,” Pacey said stepping up to Stacey.
“I’m sorry do I know you?” She asked looking over at her friend and
giggling.
“No, but I’m about to fix that,” he extended his hand, “Pacey Witter.”
“Oh you’re Gretchen’s little brother,” she continued to smile meeting
his hand jokingly.
“I wouldn’t say little,” he shrugged, “I am taller.”
“He’s adorable,” her friend exclaimed.
“So how old are you?” Stacey asked.
“Fifteen, but I’ll be sixteen in like a few months,” he explained.
“Aw, you excited about high school?”
“I guess,” he shrugged, “I just feel I’m a little above it, you know.”
Stacey smiled at her friend again, “So is your boyfriend here?”
She laughed at his not at all subtle pick up lines, “I wish, but sadly,
he doesn’t exist.”
He placed a hand on his chest, “Blasphemy!” He exclaimed, “A woman like
you without somebody to tell you how beautiful you are everyday.”
She shrugged her shoulders, “I manage.”
“Say, would you like to dance with me?”
She looked over at her friend again smiling widely. She gestured her
head towards the floor, Stacey bit her lip, “Why not?”
Joey narrowed her eyes watching them, “How does he do it anyway?”
Dawson twitched his nose, “I think it’s because Pacey is full of a lot
of shit.”
“Right,” she nodded.
Pacey wrapped Stacey in his arms her tall lean figure towering over
him an inch or two, “So what are your college plans?” He asked.
“I’m going to New York actually,” she explained, “I’m going to be a
singer.”
“Voice like an angel,” he smirked.
“I hope that’s what people will think of me.”
“New York,” he repeated, “that’s pretty far.”
“I want to start a new life,” she explained.
“No better place then the city of a million faces then, huh?”
She laughed, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I was thinking of going to school in New York myself,” he swung her
around.
“It’s beautiful there,” she nodded.
“So are you,” he added suavely.
She choked a smile, “You Witter’s are awfully persistent.”
He shrugged his shoulders, “Witter’s Aren’t Quitters, it’s our little
family motto.”
“You are so adorable,” she giggled.
“I prefer, sexy, but anything will do, right?”
She glanced over his shoulder spotting another friend coming down the
stairs, “Oh, I’m going to go talk to Ellen over there. I had fun Pacey,
and if you ever get to New York look me up.”
“I won’t have to, I’m sure you’ll be all over Broadway by then,” he
replied confidently.
Her grin widened, “You’re sweet Pacey Witter, I’m sure you’ll make some
girl really happy,” she leaned down placing a soft kiss on his lips.
Pacey smiled in a daze as she walked away, her smooth curved hips swinging
back and forth as she headed across the room. He licked his lips, Mango
Mellon Lip Gloss he’d remember that taste forever now. “Stacey and Pacey,
like Cagney and Lacey,” he began to sing.
“Together forever we’ll be,” Dawson and Joey finished coming up behind
him.
“You guys I’m in love,” he said simply, “and did you see that she was
totally into me.”
“She was laughing at you the whole time Pace,” Dawson corrected.
“She was laughing with me, not at me,” he corrected.
“She called you adorable,” Joey threw in.
“She kissed me,” he finished.
“It was out of pity,” she countered.
“You should try Mango Mellon Jo, it tastes fantastic,” he continued.
She rolled her eyes, “Only bimbos where that crap.”
“More like angels dear Josephine.”
She narrowed her eyes planting her hands firmly on her hips, “If you
call me Josephine one more time I will pop—.”
“Joey Potter, is that you?”
She froze her cheeks turning ten shades of crimson, she shut her eyes
tight turning around on her heels, “Greg, hey.”
“What are you doing here?” He asked jamming his hands into his pockets,
“I don’t recall you being a part of this quasi-adult future alcoholic of
America club.”
She smiled, “Well one has to start sooner or later, we’re all drunks
at heart, right?”
“I think I’m going to go get some punch,” Pacey broke in, “punch Dawson?”
He gestured towards the bowl.
“No it’s okay I already got—,” Pacey cut him off slapping him heavily
on the back, “Ow, what was that—,” Pacey slapped him again.
“Let’s go,” he dragged him off.
The blush on Joey’s cheeks deepened, “You’ll have to ignore Larry and
Curly over there.”
“Oh so you’re Mo, the brains of the operation,” he smirked.
“And let those two boss me around?” She laughed nervously.
A silence swept through them, “So how’s your summer been?”
“It’s been good,” she nodded, “I’ve been freaking about high school
lately, I feel so ill prepared.”
He shook it off, “It’s nothing, really, give it a month, you’ll fit
right in.”
“Should I really be listening to you? You were All State Point Guard
on the basketball team, Mister Popularity in its most clichéd form. I’m,”
she shrugged her shoulders, “I’m a dime a dozen.”
“See Joey Potter,” he grinned widely, “That’s what I like about you,
your really don’t know how special you are.”
She bit her lip, “These aren’t a bunch of cheesy pick up lines that
you’re using because your friends made some bet about laying freshmen before
you go off to college is it?”
“No I took care of that one last week,” he joked.
She looked down unable to meet his piercing hazel eyes; he brushed a
bit of his chestnut hair from his eyes before digging his hand back into
his pocket. “So do you think the Icehouse will survive without me? The
plate buildup that’s likely to happen without your favorite busboy may
be deadly.”
“I think we’ll manage,” she shrugged her shoulders looping her thumbs
in the belt loops of her khaki shorts. “Mister Thompson’s son has been
nagging for your job for years now.”
He placed a hand over his chest, “I thought I meant more to you then
that.”
She peeked her tongue between her teeth grinning widely, “Well you’ll
always have a special place in my heart.”
“You’re one in a million Joey Potter,” he said leaning in brushing his
lips over her cheek. She tilted her head allowing his lips to capture hers
sucking in her lower lip briefly before releasing it.
“I should go,” she gestured towards her friends in the corner, “someone’s
got to keep them in line, right?”
He smiled widely, “What are the Three Stooges without Mo?”
She turned away her grin widening as her heart fluttered through her
chest, “You little slut you,” Pacey said ruffling his hand through her
hair.
“Now that was the kiss dreams are made of,” she said proudly.
“And how is that?” Dawson asked intrigued.
She blushed again, “I can’t feel my knees.”
“So where’s Gretchen?” Dawson asked eagerly.
“Schmoozing with the relatives,” Pacey shrugged.
Dawson’s eyes focused on the staircase as Gretchen Witter appeared,
her soft pink summer dress fluttering softly against her bronze legs, her
short brown hair pulled back partially with a clip. Dawson left this earth
fluttering somewhere far and distant as she continued her descent towards
them.
“Hey baby brother; you’re not getting into any trouble are you?” She
asked, her chocolate brown eyes shinning.
“You can smell our breath if it helps,” Pacey said defensively.
She turned to their female companion, “Joey you look beautiful,” she
took her hands lifting them as she examined her outfit, “are you wearing
makeup?”
Joey furrowed her brows, “Just a shower.”
“You’re going to have to beat the guys off with a stick,” she joked,
“have you talked to Greg yet?”
“There wasn’t much talking,” Pacey winked wrapping his arm around Joey’s
shoulder, “I think she may be becoming a woman.”
“Someone’s acting overly cocky,” Gretchen narrowed her eyes towards
her little brother.
“Ask Stacey Montgomery about it,” he said simply.
“Oh God, she didn’t kiss you did she?”
“It was beautiful.”
Gretchen turned to the quiet blond, “Hey Dawson, it’s good to see you.”
“Hey Gretchen,” he said shyly.
Pacey toasted his glass dramatically, “PJ, we need back up.”
“Roger BJ,” Joey said gesturing her imaginary cup.
Dawson blushed furiously, “Um, Gretchen, would you like to dance?”
She eyed Pacey who plead with her through his eyes, “Sure, I’d love
to.”
Joey buried her face in Pacey’s shoulder, “He’s going to blow it isn’t
he?”
He patted his hand over her hair, “Like a plane crash darling, like
a plane crash.”
Dawson awkwardly placed a hand on Gretchen’s back as she wrapped her
arms around his neck, awaiting her hand to meet his he looked at the awaiting
gesture before settling the free hand over his other. “So you’ll be leaving
soon,” he began extracting Pacey’s advice.
“Sunday,” she nodded, “I’ll be in Boston.”
“That’s not too far,” he said.
“Less then an hour away,” she nodded again.
He floundered through his words, “You look amazing tonight.”
She forced a smile, “Thanks.”
“I was just thinking… well you know…” he trailed off.
“He needs back up,” Pacey decided grabbing onto Joey’s hand as he rocked
them over to the awkward couple.
“Say Joey what’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” He asked
loudly.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” she answered dramatically.
“You’re the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” Dawson swallowed heavily.
Gretchen smirked glancing over at her little brother. “You know something
about you Potter that nobody else can do?”
“What’s that Pace?” She asked loudly.
He thought for a moment, “Death glares, they’re simply fantastic.”
“You know Gretchen,” Dawson fought, “no-nobody has ever cared—.”
There was a loud crash, Gretchen looked over Dawson’s shoulder, “Oh
my God Peter what the fuck did you do,” she screamed running over to the
broken lamp.
Dawson sighed heavily, “That was horrible.”
“It was the speech man, you messed up the speech!”
“No,” Dawson shook his head, “I should have remembered that stupid letter,
I’m nothing without it!”
“I thought you were sweet,” Joey offered pulling him into a hug.
“You know what,” Pacey began, “this party blows, what say we go back
to my room and watch some lame action movie instead.”
“Best idea I’ve heard all night,” Joey agreed.
“You guys don’t have to do this just because I was rejected,” Dawson
frowned.
“Maybe we should get wasted too,” Joey said gesturing towards the keg.
“You guys I’m all right,” Dawson protested.
“C’mon man, let’s go,” Pacey said starting towards the steps.
Dawson followed pausing at the foot of the stair case his eyes meeting
Gretchen’s. She winked at him and he smiled before he followed his friends
up the stairs, maybe rejection wasn’t so bad after all.
~*~
“Question,” Dawson said rolling on the floor, “why is it that Joey always
gets to sleep in a bed?”
Joey crawled under the sheets rolling onto her back, “Homophobia rules
again,” she said simply.
Pacey furrowed his brows, “If we were sleeping over your house, which
one of us would get the bed?”
She sighed, “Probably Dawson, he’s a lot less grabby hands in his sleep.”
Pacey winked, “I’m not asleep.”
She glared at him. “I think if we’ve learned anything tonight, it’s
that I am going to die a virgin,” Dawson concluded.
“And why is that?” Joey wondered.
“I’m horrible with women, I can’t even talk to them how could I ever
kiss them? Or more then that?”
“We can’t all be kissed by our perfect Casanova’s,” Joey concluded.
“If Gretchen’s not the first to kiss me, I don’t see the point in kissing
anyone at all,” he whined.
“Sorry Daws,” Pacey shrugged, “but not everyone gets their first kiss
with their Stacey Montgomery’s.”
Dawson rolled his eyes, “You two speak as if your first kiss were with
these Greg and Stacey characters.”
“You must have missed our lips action an hour ago,” Pacey pointed towards
the door, “I’ll go find her and demonstrate it again.”
“No I saw that one,” Dawson nodded, “but I also saw you kiss Joey this
afternoon.”
Joey shook her head, “That doesn’t count at all, it was acting and it
wasn’t even that good.”
“I could show people the tape and get a second opinion,” Dawson threw
in wanting his friends to join him in his own depression.
“Kissing sucks,” Joey concluded. “Now in fifteen years when my kids
ask me about my first kiss I’ll have to tell them it was Uncle Pacey.”
“It’s no proud accomplishment of mine either, toots,” he threw in.
“Hey guys, not everyone can be kissed by their Casanova’s and Stacey
Montgomery’s for the first time,” Dawson chuckled.
Pacey threw a pillow at him, “Hey at least Joey and I have experience.”
“Point taken,” he frowned tossing the pillow back. He paused staring
up at the ceiling, “You guys, we’re going to be starting high school on
Wednesday.”
“Suddenly everything’s going by so fast,” Joey added, “college is right
around the corner and we’ll be parting ways.”
“Could you two slow down,” Pacey cut in, “We’ve still got three years,
and people say that these are the best years of our lives.”
Joey sighed, “We sound like a cheesy 50’s classic.” Pacey and Joey looked
down at Dawson accusingly.
“Can you both just promise me something?” Dawson asked, “That no matter
how much we grow, we’ll never change.”
“What do you mean by that?” Joey asked.
“That in three years we’ll be lying in this same place freaking out
about college, that we’ll still all be best friends.”
“We’ve made it ten years, how hard can three more be?” Pacey shrugged
his shoulders.
Joey nodded licking both hands and extending them to each boy, “To friendship
and staying the same,” Pacey sighed following suit meeting one hand with
hers. She reached over shaking Dawson’s with the other one. Rolling over
her Pacey reached for Dawson’s hand shaking it before she pushed his weight
off of her. “Motion to change the handshake,” she suggested wiping her
clammy hands on his quilt.
“Aye,” the three said in unison.
“Director’s rule?” Pacey asked glancing at Dawson.
“Handshake revoked,” he agreed.
Everything was changing, a time so simple coming to a close, promises
were becoming harder to keep. But through it all one thing would never
change, past altered feelings, and maturing emotions, past all the fights
and broken relationships, these would be the best years of their lives.
Continue
to Part 2
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