. Author’s Note: This story takes place near the end of Swan Song in fact a lot of dialogue is lifted from that episode. Basically, what if Pacey stayed in Capeside with Joey for the summer and so on and so forth. Italics are flashbacks from prior seasons. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10

She flipped over tangling the snake of sheets further around her calves as she attempted to slip them off her legs with the tips of her toes in a frustrated fury. The air conditioner was broken she convinced herself as she swiped a hand over her sweaty brow, rolling out of her bed and stomping off towards the kitchen, ice cream, she needed ice cream. Wondering through her room in the darkness of the night, the light from the stars didn't prevent her toe from smashing into her dresser.

"Do you want Bessie to catch us?" Pacey said as she fumbled through her sock drawer, she knew there was a condom in there some where. 

She shook her head furiously shaking all thoughts of him from her mind as she tripped over her shoes stumbling against the door. "Damnit, damnit, damnit!" She growled in a hushed tone as she found safety in the hall, a rush of cool air surrounding her. Pacey probably broke the air conditioner in her room, he must have known she would be hot and wanted to screw her over, that conniving bastard.

Remembering her destination she headed towards the kitchen, her moist feet binding with the cool tile floor upon contact automatically sending chills up her boiling blood. She pitter pattered across the floor her sticky feet making smacking noises with every step as she searched through the freezer.

The ice cream wasn’t in plain view she realized as she scrambled through the frozen foods in search of her beloved cookie dough. Pacey must have hid it, he knew that she would want ice cream when she was upset so he purposely misplaced her ice cream, malicious prick.

With the ice cream placed on the counter she searched through the silverware drawer desperate for a spoon, any type of spoon would be fine. Clanging each metal utensil as she dug through the assortment she cursed that God damn Pacey Witter with his cocky grin and his sparkling blue eyes and his inviting chocolate hair. But alas, he took all the spoons as well, that belligerent jackass.

Bessie poked her tired head into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes into adjustment from the light. Her mustered hair pinned lazily away from her neck and the summer heat as she curiously scooted into the room cautiously watching her sister as she continued to wreak havoc on her innocent kitchen.

“Joey what are you doing?” She asked tightening her robe around her body. “You’ll wake the guest.”

Joey headed to the dish washer barely paying attention to her sister as she scooped some spoons from the basket and turning back to the sink, twisting the knob with a rush of water.

“Joey,” she repeated.

“We need to get these dishes done, we can’t let the guests wake up tomorrow without and spoons for their cereal or coffee or what ever it is that they use if for,” she said scrubbing the utensils briskly. Pacey Witter would not make her cry, he didn’t deserve it.

“Joey,” Bessie repeated opening another drawer to reveal another set of silverware, “we rotate.”

She paused staring into the darkness of the drawer before flipping off the sink. “Fine,” she exclaimed swiping a clean spoon and heading back towards her ice cream.

“What’s wrong with you?” Bessie asked defensively sliding the drawer shut.

“Nothing!”

Folding her arms over her chest she cocked a brow, “Was it something at work?”

Joey rolled her eyes, “Misses Valentine,” no response, “Pacey?”

Joey huffed, “Why does everybody think about Pacey? It’s always Pacey, Pacey, Pacey! What did he sleep with you too?”

Bessie nodded, “Alright, it’s Pacey.”

“Pacey Witter could drown in the creek for all I care,” she shrugged it off scooping a slop of melting ice cream into her mouth.

“What happened then?”

She thought about it, he said shitty things to her, she said shitty things to him, and the reason why she hated him was because what he said to her was true and he had some nerve for knowing her so well. “It doesn’t matter, because I can live my life without Pacey J. Witter, I’ve done it before and I can do it again. My life is actually quite wonderful without him, I’m getting one of the best educations in the country, my writing has been published in a respected literary journal, and I’ve got a guy in California who’s crazy about me!” There was a knock at the door, “I’ll get it,” she said with barely a breath between sentences.

Pacey stood on the other side, hands buried deeply in his pockets, eyes downcast towards the floor his hair slightly muzzled as he chewed on the inside of his lip. “Can we talk?” He asked, his voice horse as his soft eyes met hers.

She couldn’t stop herself, she never could, throwing herself into his arms she clung onto him tightly hugging him as if he just informed her he had a terminal disease.

Look, what I said last night was way out of line. And yes, I was drunk, but more to the point, I was just plain wrong. And I want you to know that I’m really sorry. 

She pulled away wiping at her clammy eyes as they stepped on the porch, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” he explained.

“No you shouldn’t be sorry about something that was true,” she shook her head, “I was way out of line and what I said was just biting and hurtful.”

“I deserved it,” he countered.

She leaned against the railing resting her arms across her chest, “Where do we go from here?”

He sighed falling back against the banister beside her, “That’s our problem.” He thought for a moment, “Maybe it’s good to get al that out, to vent you know?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” he continued, “if all this time you’ve been feeling that way, how has that affected our friendship?”

“Probably the same way it was affected by the way you’re feeling.”

“It’s hard knowing someone so well,” he smirked, “they know exactly what hurts the most.”

“You’re my own worst enemy,” she smiled faintly allowing the tint to fade away.

“When we were seven, I hated the fact that you always had Oreos, but you’d never share them with me,” he said abruptly.

“Excuse me?”

“And this time when we were eight, you pushed me in the creek, and the water was so cold, I wanted to kill you.”

Her lips curled into a crooked smile, the memory dancing in her thoughts.

“I hate how you’re always right, no matter how hard I try to prove to the contrary, you always have the right answer,” he added, “and that you always tease me with that half smile as if you’re only smiling out of pity, because when you really grin, when you flash a little teeth and your tongue peeks out the corner, the whole room lights up.”

She frowned, “I hate that you’re so cocky and confident, I’m jealous of the fact that you can charm a whole room and make them love you within minutes. I hated you that time when you and Dawson were going camping and you wouldn’t let me come because I was a girl. And last year, when you were hurting, I hated the fact that you were so insecure and blocked off that you wouldn’t let me in to help.”

She reached over taking his hand in hers, “But I also love that fact that you can make me smile, no matter how down I am, the way you always challenge me, forcing me to reach higher. I love the vast knowledge that you contain this ending source of life experience that helps you in every situation and the fact that you never look back, just keep moving forward.”

He nodded softly, “I love the fact that you don’t realize how beautiful you are, you don’t realize how smart you are and you don’t realize just how wonderful you are. Your modesty is so genuine and I know someday you’ll believe all those things as long as you’re told it as often as possible.”

She blushed, “You’re also amazingly supportive,” he added, “I wouldn’t have gotten through senior year without you.”

She smiled through her tears as she clung herself back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her resting his chin on her head, “So are we okay then?” She whimpered.

“Yeah,” he nodded nuzzling his face into her hair the familiar scent rushing his senses, “yeah, we’re okay.”

“So, Pace, um...” she said nervously, “the other day, I had to read this article for biology, and it said that contrary to all previous thinking on the subject, human beings may actually be able to re-grow brain cells.”

He smirked, “So I guess that means the whole "this is your brain on drugs" thing is moot.”

She shook her head still settling with the nostalgic feeling of the boat, “I wouldn't go giving up just yet…” she realized she was rambling. “But I think what it means is that at some point in the not-so-distant future, it may actually be possible to forget all the bad stuff and only remember the good.”

His eyes met hers, “I don't know. If you ask me, I think that's already possible.” 

She smiled looking back into her hands. 

“Can I ask you a question?” She asked randomly, “Did you go back to her?”

“Go back to who?” He furrowed his brows.

“Melanie, did you go back to her after our fight,” she cleared.

He smirked, “I don’t think her fiancé would have appreciated my visit.”

“What?”

“Yeah it seems that we spent the afternoon on her engagement present to Owen Ross,” he explained. “She informed me of the stolen property right after I commented on the size of the rock on her finger.”

She closed her eyes tightly, a blush devouring her cheeks, “I feel like a moron.”

“Jealousy looks very cute on you Josephine,” he teased.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “I was not jealous!”

“You were too,” he countered.

“I don’t get jealous,” she argued walking him to his car. 

“Keep on telling yourself,” he nodded playfully ducking into his car.

“You’re so full of it,” she called after him as he rolled away shaking her head.

~*~

Drue slouched into a barstool in front of the kitchen ringing the order bell endlessly. "You do realize that I have a job," Pacey groaned sneaking past the swinging doors.

"You do realize that my mom is like the Godfather of this place," he countered spinning around on the chair.

"What do you want then, Valentine?" He asked lazily.

"What day is today?" Drue asked slamming his hands firmly onto the surface of the old oak counter.

He thought for a moment, "July 7th."

"And when did we start this vegetation in these God forsaken suburbs?"

Another moment of thought, "May 19th," he paused, "is there a point to this?"

"Witter, it's been nearly two months and what do we have to say for ourselves?" Drue exclaimed, "Sure you've brushed up on your culinary talents and I've learned new approaches for meeting the intellectual sort without getting a fist in my face five seconds into a conversation," he took a breath. "But we haven't any thing to show for it! Where are our battle stories about our crazy summer? Where are all the tales of the crazy keggers, or the blurry night of a road trip to a distant city."

"What are you getting at?" Pacey asked mirroring Drue's stance against the counter.

Drue grinned wickedly reaching into his back pocket and sliding a card across the bar, "Well Dave Kebo, I thought you and I could have a little fun tonight."

He glanced down at it curiously, "I don't know Gilbert, I believe last time I went drinking with you, the out come of our evening was less then thrilling."

"Well that's because last time you were all depressed and brooding, this time, it's just two young wild guys looking for a good time."

He pursed his lips continuing to study the forged card.

Drue waved a credit card, "My dad's treat."

"What's the worst that can happen?" Pacey shrugged.

~*~

Joey glanced down at her watch switching the bag of groceries between hands as she headed down the dim lengths of Main Street. The eerie familiarity rushing over her as she smiled at an old 3rd grade teacher and a couple who was a regular at the Icehouse a few years back. 

Bessie had woken her up sometime between 1AM and 2 explaining the emergency crisis in the milk department sending her out into the night on a mission for dairy. Of course the list had extended gradually over the ten minutes it took her to explain the situation to a loaf of bread, some Midol, a roll of tape, and a bag of Chips Ahoy but Joey was able to complete the journey with ease leaving her now only the trek home.

Rounding the corner her eyes fell on the old faded wall. She couldn't fight the urge to run her fingers along the chipped paint, the rough brick a wash of dull white and a drowning red. Nobody had thought of renting it after the lease was up, in fact most thought of it as a devoted boyfriend’s graffiti upon a public wall, but her and Pacey knew the meaning, and that's all that mattered.

Ask Me To Stay

Those four powerful words that had donned that wall so clearly two years before had washed away with the rain and wind and endless withering weather.

"You bought me a wall?" She asked, her eyes still glued on the large structure before her. The dry grass rustling against the surface, scrapping it in the breeze.

"You said that already," he smirked still toying with the paintbrush in his hand. 

She traced the wall where the letters had once called out to her.

It means you were right. That me leaving would be giving up on you and I'm not quite prepared to do that just yet. But it also means that I need to know that you're not quite prepared to give up on me either. So, all that being said, I refer to the wall. With it's hastily, yet adoringly written S.O.S., which I guess, speaks for itself. I spent an hour and a half staring at this half-painted wall after we talked last night. Just staring and thinking. So, the way I figured it, it's your turn to stare now. 

Her phone called out and she practically dropped her groceries in a ceremonious thud had it not been for her quick reflexes. Staring down at the caller ID she couldn't easily identify the number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Joey?"

"Pacey is that you?" She called into the receiver brushing the back of her hand over her forehead as she tried to detect the voice. "Where are you?"

There was a long pause, "Somewhere in Vermont."

"What are you doing in Vermont?" She asked curiously leaning back against her wall.

"Drue and I decided to have a guys night out."

"Where in Vermont are you?"

"Drue what would they call this place again?" He asked off hand.

"Jail dude, we're in jail!" Drue called back through a fit of laughter.

"You're in jail?" Joey exclaimed incredulously.

"Wait how'd you know?" Pacey asked dumbly.

"Pacey why are you in jail?" She asked sternly.

"Apparently," he slurred, "it is illegal in the state of Vermont to play under aged strip poker in public bars."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Get out of my head, Joey Potter," he called back defensively.

"What do you want then?"

"See, I can't call Deputy Doug or the Sheriff, so I was hoping that you could come pick us up."

"And what, Drue's afraid of his mommy?" She teased.

"Joey," he whined.

"Alright, where are you?"

He took in a sizzling breath, "I'm not sure, exactly, hold on," his voice was muffled through the ear piece of her cell phone as she partially made out, "Excuse me, good hearted guard, chop chop over here, I need you to give my friend directions."

She rolled her eyes fighting the smile that crept onto her face.

~*~

“You do realize that you owe me the $218 cab fare it cost me to drive up here at 2 o’clock in the morning,” Joey shook her head trying to keep attention on the road ahead.

“No, no, no,” Pacey shook his head, the buzz of alcohol still reeking its affects, “Josephine it is nearly 5:30.”

“The cabs on my father,” Drue said extravagantly waving his father’s credit card in the air.

“I’m going to kill you two!” She exclaimed taking in a deep breath.

Drue fell over in the back seat rolling with laughter, “And you Valentine,” she said glaring at his reflection in the rear view mirror, “your mother already hates me enough as it is, now I have to drop off her drunk son to her.”

“Do what I do,” he replied, “tell her to shove it.”

She closed her eyes tightly before laying them back on her path, “I’ll remember that the next time I feel like being fired.”

By this point Pacey was passed out in the passenger seat, his face smashed against the cool glass as his soft snores filled the vehicle. Joey looked over at him, lucky bastard.

“I don’t know why you put up with all the abuse,” Drue said leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats. “My mother’s a bitch, just quit, I’m sure there are other serving jobs in the greater Capeside region just begging for your experience.”

“Ah yes because I am rep’d for being one of the greatest serving wenches on the eastern sea board.”

“Doesn’t your boyfriend’s mother own a restaurant?”

Boyfriend? She shook her head back into the conversation, “Yeah but…” she trailed off, there was always Gale and the House of Fish.

“I’m sorry, your friend, just friend,” he corrected maintaining his teasing tone. 

“Excuse me?” Joey asked catching onto him.

“Well you and Dawson, the chasing to the airport thing so you could kiss him off, that would you put together, right?”

She pursed her lips, “Something like that.”

“But working for his mommy may not be the best of plans,” he continued.

“And why is that?” She asked intrigued.

“Because for the first time ever, you’re too busy pinning for the other ex-boyfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes, “What makes you think that?”

“Let’s see,” Drue feigned a moment of thought, “You did drive all the way to Vermont to pick us up didn’t you?”

“That was because you needed to be released from prison!”

“Oh come on, nobody was pressing charges, they would have released us in the morning when we were of a sober nature.”

“That means nothing, Drue,” she snapped back as they pulled into the yacht club parking lot.

“Sure, toots,” he smirked, “thanks for the ride, and remember if you’re ever in the mood for telling off my mother, I’ve got some great tips.”

“Drue? Drue, is that you?” Misses Valentine called out as she wondered out of her apartment overlooking the main building of the yacht club. “Where have you been?”

“Hello mother,” he said flatly as he climbed out of the car.

“I have been worried sick of you young man!”

Pacey stretched his neck closing his eyes tightly, “Where am I?” He groaned rubbing his tired eyes trying to figure out who exactly invited the herd of elephants to parade in his head that morning.

“Capeside Yacht Club,” Joey replied calmly.

He flinched, “Shit, what time is it?”

“7:30,” she replied checking the clock.

“Crap, I’ve got work.”

Joey climbed out of the driver’s seat, “I should have known that you were behind this,” she sneered.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” she replied dryly.

“Who do you think you are keeping my little boy out at odd hour of the night? I should fire you right now for putting my son in danger, you’re irresponsible, insubordinate, have no respect for authority…”

Joey looked over at Drue who winked at her, “You know what, go ahead fire me, I don’t care anymore. You,” she pointed at her, “you are nothing but an uptight, vile, controlling, bitch and I don’t understand how you could ever be hired in a position of authority because I’m sorry, but you’re one of the most incapable women I know. You hold way too much authority over your son; you don’t know how to communicate with others without causing them to projectile vomit from your pretentious superficial bull shit!”

“Excuse me?” Misses Valentine asked incredulously.

“I said I quit!” She yelled back. Drue broke into laughter offering Joey another wink, “I’m going to go clean out my locker,” she finished flashing Drue a grin.

“What are you laughing at?” She addressed her son, “Inside now!”

Pacey stumbled out of the car, “And you, kitchen now, you were supposed to be here a half an hour ago for breakfast!”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded trying to catch his footing before his stomach waged war with the rest of his system. Taking one last tentative step he keeled over puking some 50 odd bar nuts and a cheeseburger he had eaten on the drive up. Misses Valentine cringed; her staff was not in for a treat this morning.

~*~

Joey came back into the parking lot, hiking her purse up her shoulder. Cleaning up her locker was somewhat of a joke seeing as it contained a bottle of water, a few hair ties, a sweatshirt jacket she had left in there late May, and a paper weight Pacey had given her for decoration.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” She asked Pacey as she slipped into the driver’s seat.

“Not so much,” he shook his head.

“Why is that?”

“I couldn’t work here without you,” he exclaimed unconvincingly.

“You got fired too, huh?”

“Supposedly coming to work drunk isn’t the best conduct for the staff of this fine establishment,” he paused, “and throwing up on your bosses shoes isn’t the best behavior either.”

Joey’s jaw dropped, “You puked on Misses Valentine?”

“It was nothing compared to the diatribe you bestowed on her,” she blushed, “I’m proud of you Jo, couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“So what do we do now?” Joey cocked her brows.

“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, “I guess we sulk around in our pajamas all day reading trashy magazines and eating cookie dough ice cream.”

She rolled her eyes, “So much for the greatest summer ever.”

“We’ll work on it,” he smirked, “we’ll work on it.”