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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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Joey propped herself at the head of the bed narrowing her eyes as she
inspected the light by the window. Angling her chin slightly she stood
up crossing the room to adjust the shade before settling back on the pillow.
Extending her thumb she inspected the distance her tongue peeking between
the corner of her lips.
Dawson kept his eyes trained on the television set as he cradled the
remote in his hand taking mental note with each passing scene.
"A fly... got into the... transmitter pod that first time, when I was
alone," Jeff Goldblum explained. "The computer... got confused--there weren't
supposed to be two separate genetic patterns—and it decided to... uhh...
splice us together. It mated us, me and the fly. We hadn't even been properly
introduced."
Joey stood back up rearranging Dawson's directing chair next to the
window, "I still don’t understand why we're watching this. The Fly is one
of the sickest nausea inducing films out there."
"It's for research Joey," he replied stubbornly.
"What for makeup and costume design for our very own beast?" Joey questioned
picking up a mannequin arm and propping it across the chair, "Because I
find Pacey extremely horrifying without a dab of mascara."
Dawson rolled his eyes, "Actually, I still need inspiration for my love
story."
"And you're seeking it from this movie?" Joey looked up from her masterpiece.
"Why don't you look into a real romance, like Notourious, every emotion
can be picked up through one look."
"Seeing as the theme is not espionage, I think I'll stick to this one,"
Dawson said turning his attention back to the film. "The point of this
movie is Geena Davis's character having to make the biggest decision of
her life; trust that this fly character is still her husband or realize
that he's become this unearthly beast. The power it takes for her to shoot
him in the end, the man she loves, is heart wrenching! It's like in my
movie where Stephen has to make the ultimate sacrifice, he loves Stephanie
but his cryptic past has instilled in him that he can't trust anyone and
even though she doesn't know his secret identity his paranoia seeps into
his every action." Gesturing towards the television he looked back at his
companion still busily arranging various objects in his director's chair
by the window, "It's these life altering choices that makes a love story
so—what are you doing?"
Joey looked up squeezing the plush ET doll in her hands before placing
it in the faux hand. "Art class," she explained settling back on her perch
on his bed. Measuring the distance once again she pulled the pencil that
stabbed her messy bun out of her hair as she picked up her sketchpad. "We're
supposed to recreate something we've seen before."
Dawson narrowed his eyes circling her model, "And when in real life
have you ever seen an allusive hand cradle an alien?" He reached over to
grab it.
"Don't touch it!" She snapped nearly jumping off the bed, she frowned,
"It's supposed to be Jessica Lange in the palm of King Kong."
He bit his lip, "I thought King Kong was the fury one."
"Technicalities," she countered.
"So how's this class treating you," he asked sitting back on the bed
to get a wider view.
She groaned heavily, "It's the bane of my existence! The teacher had
the audacity to say I had potential."
He smirked, "How dare she!"
She swiped the tip of her pencil across the pad in an attempt to recapture
the image, "I don't want potential, I want just cause to high tail my way
out of that class."
"I thought you decided you wanted to stay in it," he said rewinding
the movie to the place he got distracted.
She pursed her lip sketching out the frame of her scene, "I did, but
I feel like everything I attempt looks so…" she trailed off, "amateur."
"Jo, last time I checked you were no Pablo Picasso."
She dropped her pad and pencil dramatically, "I'm a perfectionist, and
that's my problem."
He shrugged his shoulders picking up his own notes and studying the
scene playing across his screen, “Just loosen up.”
She eyed him pursing her lips, “As opposed to you, Mister Every Horror
Ever Made Plagiarizer.”
“It’s not plagiarism,” he defended, “it’s a theatrical homage.”
She rolled her eyes, “Right.” Tracing another line across her sketch
pad her eyes memorized each curve of the faux hand catching onto each intricate
detail. For the split second that her eyes drifted back to her pad she
was startled by the crash that came through the window. Before she could
absorb what happened her eyes trailed across the floor catching sight of
the plastic arm rolling across the carpet. She cringed, her gaze traveling
towards the window.
“What was the chair doing here?” Pacey asked picking up the fainted
chair and propping it back into position.
Dawson closed his eyes his lips tightening into a straight line, “Pace,
if you were smart, you’d start running in about five seconds.”
He furrowed his brows continuing across the room and scooping up the
ET doll which lay jettison in the corner. “Why would I do that?” He asked
tossing it in the air before sinking into the chair.
Joey continued to glare at him without a word. He glanced over at her
sketch pad still oblivious, he scrunched his nose, “No offense Jo, but
that drawing looks nothing like Dawson, his neck is a lot shorter and I’d
consider his head more long then wide.”
“Hey,” Dawson exclaimed.
“Great, I officially suck,” Joey groaned defeated throwing the pad and
pencil to the floor.
Pacey bit his lip, “I said the wrong thing didn’t I?”
“I can’t do this,” she whined, “I don’t have the creativity to make
random masterpieces.”
Pacey took the sketchpad angling it till he found a suitable view, “I
think what your problem is that you aren’t expressing yourself, you’re
just trying to create a carbon copy of what you see.”
She scowled at him, “Thank you Mister Da Vinci, may I have another?”
He smirked tossing the drawing back to the floor. “So D, when does filming
resume?”
Giving up completely on the movie he shut off the TV falling back onto
the bed, “Incorporating high school scheduling, Joey’s shifts at the Icehouse,
and your impromptu naptimes we may get our next shot in by Christmas.”
“Well when are the festival rounds?”
“Submissions are due by the end of November,” he sighed.
Joey picked up her mannequin arm setting it back on the shelf, “We’ll
get it done.”
The rattle of the ladder rustled through the window as they all froze
narrowing their eyes. Pacey looked around the room counting each member
of the room. One, two, three, all present and accounted for. Joey reached
for the arm again watching the window cautiously as she rocked on her feet.
A mane of blonde hair swept through the window frame as everybody released
a sigh of relief. “Jen, hey,” Dawson said tossing the controller aside.
“Hi, um, I’m sorry if I’m intruding, it’s just that you told me I could
come whenever and I don’t want to overstep my bounds,” she said shyly.
“No, no, its fine we were just,” Pacey trailed off, “doing absolutely
nothing.”
“Sounds rather exciting compared to my own entertainment resources.”
“Sorry Capeside doesn’t live up to your exciting city life,” Joey said
flatly.
“Down Potter, down,” Pacey smirked.
Jen caught Joey’s eye, “You know Dawson could I maybe get something
to drink? I’d grab something at my place but the prune juice really doesn’t
work its way down easily.”
“Yeah sure, I’ll show you to the kitchen,” he said nodding towards the
door.
Joey furrowed her brows, her gaze following the two blondes.
“So about this drawing,” Pacey began picking up the sketch pad.
~*~
"So Little Lady," Pacey said as he and Dawson followed Jen across the
hall, "tell us more about this city you came from."
She shrugged her shoulders, "Flashing lights, tall buildings, nothing
special.”
“You act as if you spent all your days hidden in your room,” Dawson
scoffed.
Her lips tugged to a crooked smile, “Something like that.”
Joey pulled her bag up her shoulder approaching the group awkwardly,
“Hey guys,” she glared at Jen acknowledging her briefly, “Jen.”
“Josephine,” Pacey nodded tugging on one of her French braid pigtails.
She brushed his arm away, “You’re so annoying,” she whined.
He grinned pulling her into a headlock, “You’re just saying that.”
“Let me go Cretin I’m bound to retain some sort of disease through this
contact.”
He winked at her, “So I’ve heard Cliff Ellington is throwing a little
‘final days of summer’ bash on the beach tonight anyone interested in crashing
it with me?”
“And consuming more gross keg water?” Joey arched her brows, “No thanks.”
“What happened to your Party Hardy spirit Josephine?” Pacey smiled leaning
in to whisper in Jen’s ear, “She’s a wild party animal.”
“I’m sure,” Jen smirked at Joey.
“What about you Dawson?”
He shrugged, “Depends on the homework level for tonight.”
Joey and Pacey shook their heads muttering at the same time, “Typical.”
“Miss Lindley?”
She smiled slightly, “I’ll think about it.”
“Looks like someone’s dateless for yet another social event,” Joey teased.
“I’ve got plenty more options,” Pacey defended.
“The girls on the phone sex commercials don’t count Pace, they’re not
talking to you specifically.”
Jen made eye contact with Joey gesturing at Pacey before licking her
lips; Joey furrowed her brows in confusion.
Rolling her eyes Jen looked down at her books, “Oh man I took my Scarlet
Letter book instead of Bio,” she looked at Dawson, “could you come with
me, I can’t quite remember how to get to my locker.”
Joey narrowed her eyes, “Actually I’m going in that direction anyway,”
she said glaring at the blonde.
“No, it’s okay,” Jen smiled falsely.
“You mean you’re passing up girl talk?” Joey said in mock shock.
“Fine let’s go.”
Rounding the corner Joey stopped crossing her arms over her chest, “Listen
Blondie, I don’t know you thus have no inclination to whatever you’re sick
and twisted plan has been since the second you stepped foot in this town.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh please, don’t play the stereotypical dumb blonde card, cut the crap
whatever you’re up to.”
Jen placed her hands on her hips, “The only thing I’ve been trying to
do is make some friends I’m sorry if you have a problem with me stepping
in between your boyfriends.”
Joey silenced her, “That’s the thing, you’re not stepping between us
you’re ramming Pacey down my throat as if it was your genius idea to set
us up as a couple.”
“I just thought it was obvious that you were into him,” she shrugged
her shoulders.
“Well you can stop making all your specious assumptions because you
couldn’t be farther from the truth,” she snapped. “I have and will never
be ‘into’ Pacey J. Witter, he’s gross and disgusting and it actually offends
me that you think so little of me,” Joey defended.
“Fine calm down,” Jen said fighting a grin, “I was just trying to be
your friend.”
“I never asked you to be and I never asked for your help so just back
off, okay?” She sneered turning down the hall and walking away.
Jen frowned squeezing her book in front of her chest nervously shielding
it behind her binder.
“Hey,” she jumped looking behind her, “need a lift to your next class?”
She bit her lip her eyes jumping to Joey’s descending figure, “Yeah
sure, thanks Pace.”
“So about this party,” he continued, “I really think you should go,
being the new girl and all, it’s good to mingle.”
“And I’m presuming you’d be taking me,” she finished for him.
“Well who better then me?” he asked feigning shock.
She giggled, “You’re really something aren’t you?”
“As long as that’s a complement yes, yes I am.”
“I’ll consider it.”
He perked up, this didn’t sound like rejection, “Great, let me give
you my number for when you decide something,” he said bravely ripping off
a corner of her pink notebook paper and scribbling down his digits.
“Thanks,” she said folding the slip away, “this is my stop,” she nodded
at the door number.”
“Alright then, talk to you soon,” he grinned watching after her as she
slipped into the classroom.
Catching sight of Joey heading past him in the hall he fell in stride
with her, “Hello Joey.”
She eyed him strangely, “What are you so happy about?”
“I may have a date,” he grinned he stopped furrowing his brows, “weren’t
you just going that way?”
“I was trying to make a statement to Little Miss Blondie,” she explained,
“but in the process I completely forgot which way to go in this school,
the numbers are like the opposite of junior high.”
“Tell me about it,” he laughed, “But seriously let’s talk more about
me and my burgeoning love life.”
Stopping in her path she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I’m
sorry Pace, but I looked it up last night, interspecies dating is illegal
in the state of Massachusetts, which is actually good news for that chimpanzee
at the Boston Zoo who had her eyes on you last summer.”
He faked a laugh, “You think you’re so cute don’t you.”
~*~
She took another tentative step forward her eyes fixed on the soft sunlight
that lit the dark hallway her hands trembling as she moved closer. She
had been there for a week but still couldn’t bring herself to see him;
this finalization of death that she felt would tarnish her final memories
of the man.
Biting her lip she took a deep breath finally working up the courage
to step inside. Adverting her eyes she stared out the window across the
creek afraid to look at him. “Hey Granddaddy,” her voice cracked as she
finally dropped her gaze to his slumbering form. “It’s me, Jen.”
She waited for a response knowing she wouldn’t receive one but still
hopeful in the least, “I, uh, thought you could use a visitor,” she took
a seat beside his bed, “and since I happen to be your favorite granddaughter
I figured who better then me?” She finished forcing a laugh.
Her eyes studied his face, like stone his harsh breaths causing her
to jump every so often, “See this is where you’re supposed to say, ‘Silly,
you’re my only granddaughter’,” she choked a cry. “Don’t you remember Gramps?”
She batted away a tear holding onto his hand, “I’ve missed you, I know
I haven’t been up here in a while, it’s been so crazy down in New York.”
Her eyes began to travel around the room looking everywhere but at him,
“I know Mom went to go see you after the heart attack and I’m so sorry
I didn’t come, I wish I did now but I thought it was just a stupid little
heart attack…” she trailed off, “I’m so sorry Grandpa.”
She tightened her grip on his hand her eyes trailing across his face
again, “I just wish you’d wake up and make everything better,” she cried.
“Why won’t you just wake up, please, just show me a sign, anything that
you’re still in there somewhere. That you’re still listening to me like
you used to, that deep in your pocket you swiped some chocolate for me
that I can eat before dinner.” Her body shuddered as she was hit with another
onslaught of tears, “I feel so helpless, I want to help but you won’t let
me. What can I do to wake you up? What can I take back to change all of
this? My whole life is slipping away and I want to know what I can do to
fix it?”
She brushed away the milky screen of tears, “So how bout it Granddad,
you let me make you better, you wake up right now and I’ll fix your broken
heart if you fix mine.”
“Please,” she whimpered and for a moment she saw him smile, her imagination
could have been a factor but in her mind he was there somewhere supporting
her, that his literal broken heart was in someway trying to mend her figurative
one.
She backed away, “Grandpa?” But as soon as he came, he was already gone.
Running out of the room she found the phone her fingers dialing buttons
furiously.
~*~
Pacey tossed his backpack next to the front door, Dawson following suit
as they headed to his room, “Pacey, can you go check on dinner, Doug’ll
be over tonight.”
He rolled his eyes turning dramatically towards the kitchen. “For my
homecoming I see,” he trailed off checking the random pots and pans spread
over the stove, “Maybe some saltines on peanut butter,” he began looking
at the assorted frozen appetizers. “Hmm, bologna on white bread no less,”
he said checking the roasting chicken in the oven. “For starch potato chips
of course,” he stirred the boiling potatoes. “And vegetable, I’m thinking
the two year old pickles from the back of the fridge,” he finished placing
the broccoli steamer over the boiling water.
“Pacey,” Dawson warned.
“Oh don’t worry, I don’t need the supportive best friend crap in this
situation, I’m actually quite used to the lack of attention that I get
here.”
“Would you quit being so hard on yourself?” He begged.
“Onto dessert,” he clasped his hands together, “I was thinking about
Ring Dings, but who knows maybe they’ll splurge for some Yodels.”
“How bout I’ll buy you a cake,” Dawson suggested.
“You mean you and Joey wouldn’t make me one from scratch with a replica
of my face made in icing?” He pouted a lip.
Dawson scoffed, “Have you seen Joey’s drawings? You’d look like a caricature,
and never, ever trust me in the kitchen.”
He smirked, “Good point.” Lifting the cover off the assorted dessert
treats his mother had purchased he swiped some pastries tossing one to
Dawson, “I wonder if Jen can cook.”
“I don’t know she’s been rather mysterious ever since she’s gotten here.”
He nodded, “Tell me about it, all I know is that her last name is Lindley
and she lives next door to you.”
“And for some inexplicable reason Joey wants her head on a pole.”
“Girls are fickle creatures,” he shook his head, “Did you know that
Joey had the effrontery to grow breast?”
Dawson laughed, “What are talking about?”
“The other night, I was sleeping over minding my own business when she
started squirming out of her bra like I wasn’t even there. I mean she still
had a shirt on and stuff but she was paying no attention to my feelings
on the matter. All the mental images I was left with for the rest of the
night,” he sighed shaking his head in disappointment, “I had a hard on
all night.”
“For Joey Potter?” He scoffed, “You do realize this is the same girl
who kicked the crap out of you in front of the entire third grade.”
“No man, that’s the problem,” Pacey cut in, “all these girls around
us who used to wear the overalls and pigtails, they’re all turning into
women. Did you see Susan Andrews yesterday? The frizzy red hair girl with
buck teeth braces and freckles?” Dawson nodded, “Well the braces are off,
the hot tools hair straightener has worked its magic, and suddenly I find
freckles amazingly sexy.”
“So you’re raging male hormones have kicked into overdrive.”
“Honestly Dawson, your asexual film dork persona isn’t working for you
anymore, girls want a bad boy a sense of excitement an adventure not a
little prissy mama’s boy.”
He scoffed, “Mama’s boy?”
Pacey patted his shoulders, “Afraid so, man.”
“Mmm, what’s that smell,” John Witter said rubbing his belly as he entered
the kitchen.
“Mom pulled out the Betty Crocker for tonight,” Pacey explained.
“Hey Dawson, you staying for dinner?” He greeted him excitedly. “Our
golden boy Doug just got a promotion and we’re celebrating.”
“Actually I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”
“Working on your next blockbuster,” he joked, “honestly if our boy had
a shred of your talent we’d be exploiting him for all he was worth wouldn’t
we, Pace.”
“If only,” Pacey replied flatly.
Heading to the stove John surveyed the random dishes cracking over the
lid of the steaming broccoli before a frown crossed his jaw, “Pacey how
long did you put this on?”
“I don’t know a couple minutes, what does it matter?”
He groaned lifting out the steamer revealing a soggy yellow bouquet,
“Because it gets too soft and yellow.” He shook his head dropping the steamer
on the counter, “We offer you one simple task and you can’t even get that
right. When will you just listen to our instructions and stop messing everything
up?”
“It’s just broccoli, Pop, you hate it anyway.”
“Don’t talk back, just respond,” he said sternly.
Setting his jaw he simply nodded. Dawson swallowed uneasily, “I really
should be heading out my mom was expecting me home ten minutes ago.”
“Bye Dawson,” Pacey said with sad eyes.
John chuckled, “Bye Dawson, see if you can straighten this kid out.”
Offering him a supportive smile the blonde slipped out of the kitchen.
“Now let’s see if we can fix this disaster,” John said turning back
to the freezer, Pacey stood frozen with a glare trained on his father.
~*~
“Hi dad?” Jen paced across her bedroom hugging her arms against her
chest, “Hey I wanted to talk to you.”
“I’m a little busy sweetheart,” Theodore Lindley said searching through
the endless pile of papers spread across his desk.
“It’s important though,” she explained settling on the edge of her bed.
“I’ve been here, in Capeside for about a week now and I’ve been good, really
good, Daddy I’ve learned my lesson and I’m ready to come home.”
“Jennifer this arrangement isn’t due entirely to your recent behavior,”
he defended.
“Well see that’s fine because I know your excuses was Gramps but I’m
here and I’ve seen him and I was talking to him tonight and he’s going
to be okay, so that means I can come home.”
“Jen it’s complicated.”
“No it’s not,” she refuted, “You’re angry about what I did and that’s
completely understandable,” she sniffed back a few tears, “but don’t push
me away, don’t send me to a couple of Jesus loving freaks to fix things
because that’s not the way it works. I need you; we need to work this out
together.”
“You need constant supervision, someone with the time and energy to
take care of a fifteen year old girl and right now your mother and I are
going through enough problems as it is and don’t have time to have their
baby bar hopping and drinking into odd hours of the morning.” Theo sighed,
“We’re not suitable parents and New York City is not a suitable environment.”
“Well what did you expect from me daddy?” She cried, “Where were you
all those times when I needed you? When I was scared and needed someone
to hold me at night, when I had a bad day and wanted my daddy to kiss me
goodnight, where were you Daddy?” She shook her head, “This all isn’t my
fault, it’s the fact that you and mom got into more then you could handle
and you just threw me away the first chance you could get.”
“Jen.”
“Have you ever cared about me at all?” She wept, “Or did you just get
bored of me when I grew out of my cute stage?”
“Jen it wasn’t like that.”
“I just want to come home Daddy, I want to be with the people who I
love and who care about me.”
“And you consider those punks who you hang out with loved ones? The
places they take you to, the things they get you into?” He shot back.
“They care more then you do,” she bit back.
“I don’t want that kind of influence on you, I think if you just stay
there and get the chance to mature a little everything will be okay.”
“Mature a little,” she asked incredulously, “that coming from you is
really rich seeing as I’m more grown up then you’ll ever be.”
“Jennifer,” he said sternly.
“And this little protective bubble you think you shipped me off to,
is only 45 minutes to Boston, I hear there are trains that run on the hour
I’m sure there are some great clubs up here to make some new ‘punk’ friends
to piss you off.”
“Jen when will you see that I’m only trying to help you?” He begged.
“When you realize that you’re only trying to help yourself,” she sheered
throwing down the phone in frustration.
Biting her lips she looked back down at the phone on the floor heading
to her backpack she scrambled through it for that pink scrap of paper.
~*~
The clanking silverware was giving him a headache; in fact the first
ting of the utensil had drove him to near insanity. The frozen string beans
sat across the table laughing at him and he could hear the rotting broccoli
cursing his name in their grave known as the garbage disposal. Finding
solace in the pool of Red Wine that undulated in Deputy Doug's glass across
the table from him he propped his head in his hand staring at each subtle
wave.
"I asked him for his license and he pretty much stripped off his pants
to find it he was that piss drunk," Doug finished his story receiving a
roaring laugh from the table.
"I’m sure you loved that," Pacey muttered under his breath clicking
his fingers against the kitchen table as he scowled at the giggling string
beans.
"What was that?" Doug narrowed his eyes at his baby brother.
"I'm sure you loved that, you know for story telling value," Pacey covered
rolling his eyes, "to all your other hetero cop friends," he finished under
his breath.
"Is there a problem Pacey?"
He bit his lip, "No ma, just admiring your desert sand chicken," he
said stabbing at the dry slice of chicken.
"Are you giving your mother lip?" John snapped.
"No Pop, none at all."
"So Dougie sweetheart, tell us more about your promotion," Marsha Witter
said propping her chin in her hands in anticipation.
"Well," he took a heavy swallow, "there was an opening for a Sheriff
in a small county…" he paused, "Up in Vermont."
"Vermont," she repeated, "that's so far away."
"Only a couple of hours," he defended.
"Vermont," Pacey said almost to himself, "very liberal, should be extremely
accepting of your kind."
"Grow up Pace," Doug said disgusted.
"I didn't say anything," Pacey refuted, "stop putting words in my mouth!"
"Will you boys stop your arguing?" John yelled coughing a bit as he
pat his chest.
Pacey narrowed his eyes, "You okay, Pop?"
"I'm fine," he shook off, "Now Doug, when will you be moving."
Taking a sip from his wine he cleared his throat, "I've been apartment
hunting for a few weeks now and I think I've found a nice place…" he trailed
off, "I'm going to be moving up sometime next week."
John frowned nodding head, "You're a good officer, and a wonderful son,"
he patted a hand on his shoulder, "I'm going to miss you boy."
Pacey rolled his eyes, saved by the ring of the telephone, "I insist
let me get it," he motioned for everyone to stay in their seats as he made
a mad dash for the kitchen. "Hello."
"Hi, is Pacey there?" Her voice was unsure yet shadowed with a shade
of something else.
"The one and only, who's this?"
"Hi, it's Jen, Jen Lindley from school," there was a long pause, "look
about that party."
"You want to go?" He pleaded.
"It sounds like fun."
"Great, I'll uh, I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes."
She smiled, "Um, okay, that's, uh, that's good."
"Bye, then."
"Yeah, bye."
Hanging up the phone he chewed on the inside of his lip, he definitely
couldn't do this alone.
~*~
Scribbling over her latest doodle she groaned crumpling up the frustrating
paper and hurtling it across the room. "Another winner?" Dawson asked popping
the next videocassette into the VCR.
She scowled at him, scribbling furiously on her next sketch, "What time
is it?"
He glanced at the clock, "8:30."
"What time did Cliff Elliot's party start?"
"I don't know, it probably won't start till 9," he plopped down on the
bed fast forwarding through the previews, "why?"
She shook her head nonchalantly, "No reason."
Pacey dove through the window, "I've got an emergency."
"Choking on your own spit again?" Joey said flatly, "Surprise, surprise."
"No worse," he shook it off climbing to his feet, "I just made a date
with Jen."
"It's a party, just load her up with a few drinks and she'll barely
remember she's there with you," Joey offered.
"Not what I was looking for," he fell onto Dawson's bed with a ceremonious
bounce.
"When are you leaving?" Dawson asked.
"I've got approximately 10 minutes to arrive at her house promptly,"
he explained staring silently at the ceiling.
Joey rolled her eyes, "Fine just be yourself, contrary to about everything
I've ever said about you in my life, you're not half bad to be around."
Pacey's eyes widened, as he looked at Dawson, "Am I having delusions
of grandeur or did she just compliment me?"
He patted his foot, "I'm afraid so."
"Aren't you some sort of Casanova with the ladies anyway?" She asked
placing her hands on her hips, "Now the first girl to loose her marbles
long enough to accept a date with you comes along and you run away crying
like a woman."
"I'm not crying," he defended.
"What do you want from us then?" Dawson asked fiddling with the remote
on his VCR.
"I want you two to come with Me."
"A third and fourth wheel, a little excessive don't you think?" Joey
asked dryly.
"And it's movie night," Dawson pouted towards the television.
"Come on, live a little, make high school fun!"
"Yeah well Mommy and Daddy aren't going to be around forever to hold
your hand," she said.
He pouted his lip, "Please?"
"Fine," Dawson sighed leaving Joey no other choice.
~*~
The sea breeze sent a shiver down his spine as his eyes scanned over
the party going on around him. He had lost Jen about fifteen minutes earlier
to the toilet and was wondering if she was still looking for him, "Probably
not," he muttered to himself.
There was something mysterious about her that was even more evident
tonight. She seemed sad, lonely, distant, depressed every gloomy adjective
under the sun and he still couldn't understand why.
Sighing heavily he slipped past the crowded beach, through the hoards
of drunken teens finally finding peace and tranquility by the water. "Hey,"
he said spotting her.
Joey looked up digging her feet deeper in the thick wet sand forming
a barrier between the undulating waves. "Hey," she said with a crooked
grin.
He crouched down next to her leaning back on his hands, "Great party,
huh?" He asked sarcastically.
"It's absolutely terrific," she matched his tone, "even Dawson's having
a better time then I am," she nodded off towards the crowd, "ever since
he succumbed to the evil tropical liquor."
Pacey shrugged his shoulders, "Well at least we'll have something to
entertain us later when we have to drag his drunken ass home."
"And the hangover will be priceless," she laughed, "we'll have to turn
it into another Leery Classic Film."
"He'll thank us someday for our artistic capabilities," he smirked.
She hugged her knees to her chest shaking the night breeze through her
hair and suddenly he was captivated by her developing beauty, the subtle
changes that her features were taking, the girl he had once known slowly
transforming into a woman he hoped to meet all over again. She turned to
look at him cocking a brow, "So where's Jen."
He smacked his lips together, "Good question."
"Well you know what they say, New Yorkers are always on the go, she
probably got distracted by the stock exchange or something."
"Maybe I should get some flashing lights and honking horns or something,
you know, just to keep her attention."
She giggled, "Sounds like a plan."
He leaned back onto his elbows letting them mold against the sand as
he tilted his head back looking past the stars. "You ever wonder what's
out there?"
She rolled her eyes, "You're not getting all philosophical on me Witter,
are you?"
"No," he shook his head, "just curious."
She sat back onto her own elbows her gaze following his, "Everything,"
she sighed, "just endless space."
"But what about all the stars, all the galaxies beyond our own all the
solar systems there are likely to be, don't they have significance."
She bit her lip, "No more then we do to them. There are no truly spectacular
things in the world, in the universe even; it's all in the eye of the beholder."
She glanced over at him, “Is this about your dad?”
He smiled softly in spite of himself lowering his gaze to the sand,
“Doug came home today, he got a promotion in Vermont,” he trailed off,
“He was so proud of him too, I mean just absolutely glowing. I just wish
I could do that for him too.”
She placed her hand over his stroking it with her thumb, “Don’t think
because of that you’re not an amazing person,” she offered him a grin,
“I mean do you think I’d lower my standards to hang out with such a loser?”
He smirked, “Thanks Potter.”
Joey shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “Don’t mention it.”
“Hey Pacey I’ve been looking all over for you,” Jen said hugging her
arms tightly across her crimson top as she headed towards them down the
beach.
“I could say the same thing about you,” he called back.
“Well at least you’ve got company,” she smiled, “Hi Joey.”
Joey climbed to her feet, “I should go find Dawson before some senior
takes advantage of him.”
“I’ll see you later,” Pacey offered rising from the sand as well.
“So what do you want to do now?” Jen asked.
“Not to sound corny but I could take you for a walk along the beach,”
he gestured around them, “seeing as we’re conveniently located on one.”
She laughed, “How do you do it?”
“What is that?”
“Make me smile,” she shrugged.
“Did you have the punch?”
She thought for a moment, “A little.”
“That’s probably why.”
“No really Pace, you’ve been,” she shook her head a few times, “suuuuuuuuuuper
nice to me ever sinccce I got here an I just wanned to thank you,” she
slurred.
He narrowed his eyes, “Are you okay?”
She plastered on a smile, “No I’m just fine, just great actually, damn
glad to be here in fact, away from everything I’ve ever known just abandoned,
it’s great.”
“Do you want me to take you home,” he asked cautiously.
She shook her head imperturbably, “I can’t go home.”
He nodded, “Fine we’ll just walk for a while,” he placed his hand on
her back guiding her along the beach. “So do you want to tell me about
New York some more?”
She shook her head again, “Not really.”
“Come on, at least a little about Catz.”
“Only tourists care about Catz.”
“See I’m obviously a tyro on the New York experience, you’ve got to
help me out, or one day I’m going to go there with my giant flashing camera
ooing and ahing at every lame building I come in contact with.”
“Sometimes when I go to sleep I can still hear the honking of the traffic,
I can still smell the pretzel stands on the street,” she trailed off, “but
I’m here now.”
He rubbed his hand over her shoulder blades, “Are you sure you’re okay.”
She blinked her bloodshot eyes a few times, “I’m fine, really I just
want to go to sleep.”
“Okay,” he nodded, “you can crash at my place.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled, “so tell me about this place.”
“Nothing exciting at all,” he chuckled, “unless you consider Hurricane
season, and even that’s lost its luster in recent years.”
“Well at least you’ve got good friends.”
He smiled, “Yeah Dawson and Joey are two in a million.”
“Joey’s very protective of you.”
“When you’ve been pushing each other around since diapers you get pretty
territorial over who else is aloud to hurt you.”
“So how long have you three been friends?”
“I can’t exactly remember when it all happened, 4 or 5 years old, everybody
in this town has known each other forever. We’ve been having Movie Nights
and sleepovers since we were like 6 or 7 though, that’s when we really
became friends.”
She smiled sadly, “It’s nice to have people like that.”
Stepping up his porch he helped her up after him, “Here we are, just
be quiet my parents probably aren’t thrilled with me having you here.”
She nodded following him through the house to his room, “Really thank
you I just cant’ go home like this.”
He shook his head, “It’s nothing, do you need anything?”
“No I’m fine,” she said kicking off her shoes.
He grabbed a pillow throwing it on the floor, “Please don’t sleep there
on my account.”
“No really, I don’t want to be the kind of guy to take advantage…”
“Your not,” Jen shook her head, “I just don’t want to be alone.”
“Okay,” he said softly settling down next to her.
She pulled his lips to hers kissing him before he pulled away, “No hey,
we don’t have to do this, we shouldn’t actually,” he said staring down
into her empty eyes so lost yet little emotion behind them.
She stared at him strangely for a moment, “Oh, I just,” she blushed.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he flipped off the light.
Tucking herself into his arms she kissed him again in the darkness of
the night, “Thank you Pacey,” she muttered into his chest.
Back to Part
2 | Continue
to Part 4
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