. 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

Bessie Potter ran about the kitchen slipping past the blob formally known as Joey in search of a pen, “Jo, someone’s at the door, could you get that?”

She sighed heavily, “What’s the point, I’ll probably get fired at doing that too.”

“My God Josephine you don’t take rejection well,” Bessie groaned rolling her eyes at her sister as she hunched over the table uselessly. "Besides, rumor has it that you were the one to give the she-devil a piece of your mind."

"Technicalities," Joey flicked off, still refusing to move from her slump.

“Coming,” she called out running towards the front door.

Sighing heavily she swung the door open, “Pacey,” Bessie smirked, “what a pleasant surprise,” her eyes drifted down his body, “where are your pants?”

Joey peeked her head curiously out the door; Pacey simply pulled out a carton of cookie dough ice cream, forcing a smirk across her lips, "I'll go get the spoons, I think there's a copy of Seventeen on the coffee table."

"What's going on?" Bessie asked helplessly as the two scurried around her living room and kitchen.

"We'll be in my room," Joey tossed over her shoulder.

With that Joey, her ex-boyfriend wearing only a wife beater and boxers, a carton of cookie dough and a trashy teen magazine disappeared behind her bedroom door.

Bessie stood at the open front door her eyes jumping between her sister’s room and the door frame. She furrowed her brows gingerly closing the door and heading towards her sister’s room.

~*~

Joey flipped through her summer reading teasing the tip of her spoon against her lower lip as she focused intently on each word.

"Do you think my ass would look fat in these?" Pacey asked tipping the magazine in her direction as he rolled his head against her hip to glance up at her.

She snatched the magazine from him studying the picture of some 'stylish' blue jeans with acid stains and goofy looking pockets, "I don't think you want to accentuate your chicken legs, Pace."

He looked at her incredulously pinching his thighs between his forefingers; "My legs are toned and high quality."

She threw the magazine back down at him, "Chicken."

He glared at her for a moment before dipping his spoon back in the dripping carton of ice cream resting on her bed. He flipped a couple more pages drawing the perfume ad to his nose, "Mmm, Jo you should get this it smells good."

She sniffed it, glancing at the ad, "Oh no, I already have it."

He snapped his fingers, "I thought it smelt familiar."

Joey sighed heavily dropping her book to her chest, "Pace, is this what we're going to do for the rest of the summer?"

"Is this not the life?" 

"I was hoping I wouldn't receive the nickname 'Bertha' until I was at least 58."

He pursed his lips flipping another page in the magazine, "I was thinking about going back to Boston actually."

"What?" Her eyes widened, "You were just going to abandon me here?"

“Well Casa De Grams does have two vacancies ever since two blondes we both know headed to opposite sides of the country,” he shrugged still casually flipping through the magazine.

“But Bessie needs me here,” Joey trailed off.

“What about Bessie and the B&B?” He questioned still trying to comprehend her offer, “They need you.”

She took another strong step forward her certainty present, “Not as much as I need you, Pacey.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself Jo, because she’s functioned here for an entire year without your assistance,” he argued.

“It’s tourist season now,” she countered.

“You’re lying on your ass in the middle of the day eating melted ice cream with your ex-boyfriend,” he was one up.

“Isn’t that how everybody spends there summer?” She was slipping in this game; all that was left was to retreat, “Fine, fine, I’ll go.”

He scooped out another soft clump of ice cream, “Splendid.”

Bessie broke through the door her hand shielding her eyes and yielding a wooden spoon, “If anything kinky is going on in here, please refrain for this short interlude.”

Joey smirked, “Oh God Pacey, yes, right there, more, more,” she moaned.

Bessie removed her hand glaring at her baby sister, “Ha, funny, you just earned yourself bathroom duty,” she said flatly, “chop chop, it’s not getting any cleaner.” Joey frowned still lying lazily on her bed closing her book and setting it on the night stand.

“And you Mister Witter,” she continued directing her attention on the man who propped his head against Joey’s hip his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, “the guests are hungry,” she explained waving the spoon.

“Whatever happened to Bodie,” Pacey sighed as he climbed off the bed taking the ice cream with him.

~*~

"So you're just leaving, just picking up and going?" Bessie asked bouncing Alexander on the edge of her knee.

Joey sat guiltily before her, her hands folded into her lap as she bit back her lip, "Something like that."

"Boston is that important to you?" She continued, "More important then your family?"

Joey sighed directing her gaze towards the floor, Bessie's grave expression broke into a smile, "Have fun."

"You mean it's okay that I'm not going to be around to help?"

"Help do what?" She teased, "Jo go back, be a kid, have fun, besides you were useless here anyway and it would be really great to have an extra room to rent out."

She narrowed her eyes, "Thanks," she said flatly.

Bessie sat Alexander on the couch wiping down her jeans before diligently organizing the clutter scattered about the coffee table, "So have you talked to Dawson?"

She cringed, "He hasn’t called.”

Bessie rolled her eyes, “This is the least romantic love story of all time Joey. You dash to the airport to send him off properly and then you ignore him for the next three months?”

"Soul mates exceed the textbook definition of romances, there are obstacles and separations by entire continents."

"Jo, the inability to dial a phone is not an obstacle and an entire continent is obsolete in an age of airplanes, e-mail, cell phones and other simple modes of transportation," Bessie refuted.

Joey frowned, "Would it be bad to say that I don't want to talk to him."

"At least we're getting somewhere," she said scooting closer on the sofa. "So why is it that Joey and Dawson wouldn't want to exchange words, a practice you two have been perfecting over the past two decades."

"Honestly, I don't know what to say anymore," she said burying her face in her hands. "I mean I spent this whole year trying to figure out what Dawson meant to me and I though I knew I really did, but…" she trailed off.

"Now that you've had time to think about it," Bessie finished for her.

"Maybe the fact I couldn't get on that plane with him is a sure sign that we're not going anywhere," she shrugged.

You’re so afraid of an actual relationship that you go back to your fantasy every time something gets serious because you know that you and Dawson aren’t going anywhere you’re just there to feed off of one another.

"I mean I haven't really known the boy in three years."

"Then call him," Bessie held out the phone.

Joey frowned again, "I need to go pack."

~*~

Hoisting the large suitcase with a grunt Pacey finally situated the final bag in the trunk of his car, "Potter, are you sure you need all this stuff?" He questioned swiping a hand across his brow.

"I don't want to invade Misses Ryan's home, I've brought all necessary supplies," she explained.

"Well Boston is less then an hour away from here, if you needed anything it's a hop skip and a jump away."

She hopped off the first step of the B&B taking a skip closer to Pacey before she jumped onto his toes. Their noses were mere inches apart as she grinned cockily in his face, "Gee Toto, I don't think we're in Capeside anymore," she said sarcastically.

He could feel the heat that radiated off of her shimmering skin and he had to swallow heavily to regain his composure. It startled him constantly after all this time she could still have this affect on him. Reaching behind her he brushed his cheek against her bare shoulder causing her to jump as she cocked her head to watch him as he shut the trunk of the car. "Then come on Dorothy let's hop on that yellow brick road."

She felt a wave of disappointment as she was left with a whish of air where he had once stood.

Rolling down the same old streets of Capeside she anticipated the highway that would lead them out of there and back to the place that she had come to call home. "Pace, where are we going," she asked through furrowed brows as they took a dreaded turn towards the dock.

"I've got to go pick something up," he explained hopping out of the driver's seat and heading towards the trunk.

Joey's eyes traveled over the yacht club as they fell on the dire figure of Drue Valentine carrying a duffel bag. "Pacey, please tell me that you asked for your final paycheck in singles and that's why Drue is carrying a bag towards our car."

"I asked for my final paycheck in singles and that's why Drue is carrying a bag towards our car," he answered flatly.

"Pacey," she whined poking her head out the window, "we're not bringing him with us are we?"

"I couldn't just leave him here Jo, he's got nobody here except for his mother."

"So let them stew in their own vile ways together, it's important to keep good mother son relationships."

"Potter," Drue greeted tossing Pacey his bag to throw in the trunk.

"Valentine," Joey pouted twisting back into her seat.

"Mother said I should piss in your car for what you did to her brand new Prada's but I told her she could shove those shoes straight up her ass," he explained to Pacey.

"You could never insult your mother and you know it you coward," Joey snit.

'PMS' Drue mouthed, "Anyway, she then kicked me out because I cleaned out the yacht clubs liquor cabinet for a little beach bang I threw, which I meant to call you two about, honestly."

"I was busy anyway," Pacey shrugged off shutting the hood.

"Busy doing what?" Joey asked defensively, she was not a jealous person.

"Packing up my things at Doug's Bachelor Padorama."

"Oh," she replied casually.

"How much fun is this going to be?" Drue asked Pacey who smiled tightly as he got back into the car.

~*~

Propping her chin in her hand she gazed out the window at the passing scenery, the beach grass that danced in unison with the sea breeze. The Capeside waters where she spent her childhood.

Don't you ever get tired of talking?

Drue flipped around in the back seat trying to get comfortable, "Why is it that she always gets to ride in front?"

"Because she says so," Pacey answered keeping his eyes trained on the road, "and God help you if you say otherwise."

I don't want to talk anymore.

"You're not afraid of her are you?" Drue teased.

"What are you trying to say?" She asked her mind like jelly as he made some sort of cryptic declaration. 

"I don't want to talk anymore," he repeated, "Jo," with that his lips took hers smothering her final protests. He had kissed her before in these sorts of circumstances, yet it still surprised her because this time she had wanted him to.

"Have you ever felt her hit?" Pacey asked incredulously.

Joey popped back into reality looking back at Drue, "Don't make me replay our little storage room debacle."

He grinned cockily leaning onto his thighs so his face was closer; "You just want to kiss me again don't you?"

She cringed turning her head back to the window, "Oh God I think I'm going to be sick."

“Are we there yet?” Drue whined.

“Pacey, pull over,” Joey said through gritted teeth. “I’m going to kill him, I really am.”

Yanking off her seatbelt she dove partially into the backseat pounding her fist against Drue. “Jo, stop what are you doing?” Pacey asked holding onto the wheel with one hand his other attempting to wrap around her waist as she wiggled convulsively over Drue’s struggling form.

Pulling over the car he dragged Joey out of the front seat throwing her over his shoulder as he walked around the Mustang. “If you two can’t get along you can both sit in back and think about it.”

Joey’s jaw dropped, “He started it.”

Dropping his pointer finger on her nose he warned, “Temper.”

She scowled folding her arms over her chest. “He started it!”

“I don’t care who started it!” Pacey yelled back, “All I know is that you two are driving me crazy!” He finished slamming the car door.

“Geez what’s his problem?” Drue asked as their eyes followed him around the car.

‘PMS’ Joey mouthed.

~*~

Jack McPhee scooped the last few soggy cheerios from his bowl. Who said you couldn’t eat cereal at 3 PM? He certainly didn’t. Life at the House of Protective Grandmothers of Oversexed New York Natives and Young Homosexuals had been dragging lately. Grams and Clifton Smalls were in their schmoopiest of fazes and the looming thought of ‘Jesus Loves Me’ and some sort of kinky choir action prevented him from sitting in the same room with them for prolonged periods of time. 

Jen wasn’t there anymore and he missed her. No longer did he have a buddy to reenact scenes from Moulin Rouge, no longer could he crack Clifton Smalls jokes with Jen, the queen of sexual innuendo jokes to make Grams blush.

Trying to ignore the doorbell for as long as possible he feared the Jehovah’s Witnesses that were no doubt behind it, scavengers for lost souls like himself ready to feast on his nativity. 

The door was now being assaulted by pounds of fists, those guys must really be desperate. Setting his bowl on the coffee table he warily made his way to the door peeking out the peep hole. It was much worse then he thought… they had already gotten Joey and Pacey… and Drue. He needed to seek shelter he decided arming himself with an umbrella and Grams newspaper slippers. But they’d be expecting that dropping them back in the basket by the door he hopped over the couch grabbing his spoon, still dripping with milk. A spoon was a lovely murder weapon, knives were too conventional and forks pierced with ease making them an obvious choice, but the spoon was like the duck billed platypus, nobody saw it coming.

Rearing the spoon in attack position he made his way back to the door, “Who are you and what have you done to my friends?”

Pacey chuckled, “Hey man, let us in.”

That’s exactly what Pacey would’ve said, had not the mutants infested his brain, these guys were better then he thought.

“Is there anymore room in the inn?” Joey called into the door. Oh no they wanted to nest here.

“Yo, McPhee put the spoon down now and open the door,” Drue called. He was being watched, looking down at the spoon in his hand he realized he was being ridiculous, something that months of hibernation would do to a poor guy.

Sighing with defeat he opened the door, “Hey guys, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Joey took a step inside, “Did you know that Capeside he’s an extremely boring town, only made interesting to tourists from the Midwest who’ve never seen the Ocean.”

Jack chuckled, “It took you a month and a half to realize that?”

“We’re a little slow,” Pacey said brushing past him.

“What’s he doing here?” Jack asked gesturing towards Drue.

“He’s our house warming gift, we never got you one last year so we thought we’d offer this,” Pacey shrugged.

“So is it alright if we stay here?” Joey asked.

“Are you kidding, I’ve been surrounded by old people all summer!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, “Hey Grams, we have some visitors.”

Grams wondered out into the living room, “Oh children, how lovely it is to see you all again, it makes me miss Jennifer more and more.”

“Would it be alright if we stayed here for a little while?” Joey asked nervously.

“Oh of course, come make yourself at home, I’m sure Jennifer wouldn’t mind you sleeping in her room.”

“And I’ll take the other bed,” Drue volunteered.

“What about me?” Pacey asked shocked.

Joey patted down on the couch, “You can sleep on this baby, as I recall you love dreaming in Sofa City. Even when you had a room at Gretchen’s you were still constantly snoozing out in the living room.”

Pacey smirked, “I have a lot of memories on that couch,” he winked at Joey, “and as I recall you were there for about 92% of them.”

“Oh, what about the other 8%,” Jack teased.

“She was there in spirit.”

Joey cringed, “Gross.”

“Why don’t I get you children some linens,” Grams said with a chuckle.

“See Jo,” Pacey said setting his hands on her shoulders, “best summer ever right?”

She rolled her eyes.