. 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 hugged her arms to her chest, “I still don’t feel comfortable doing this.” 

“Twenty minutes and then you can clear your conscience by going to church or something,” Pacey offered.

“I don’t feel that guilty,” she refuted. She inspected her fingers looking at the long bare digits, “If we’re supposed to be married, where is my ring?”

“What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes.

“I need a wedding ring, you know women get all nostalgic over that and the bouquet.” 

He bit the inside of his lip, “The cleaners.” 

“We just got married though, and I am not a slob I think I’d keep my rings in good condition until at least our first anniversary.” 

“Engraving?” He offered.

“Why didn’t you do that before the wedding? Now that I’m Misses Witter parting with my beloved ties to you would be no easy task.”

“Do you want me to go run to the store and get you a plastic one from the candy dispenser?” 

She placed her arms stubbornly on her hips, “Do I look like some two bit hussy to you.”

“That ring on your finger,” he pointed to the silver one on her middle finger, just move it over one.

“Fine,” she sighed, “When was our wedding?”

“What does it matter?”

“Newlyweds say stupid things, like constantly waving their happiness in other people’s faces. They repeat their wedding day constantly, ‘Oh yes John and I were married on September the 3rd’” she impersonated, “‘Have I told you about the September 3rd wedding I had?’”

“No they don’t,” he shook his head, “But if we must, I don’t know March 23.”

That silenced her as she bit her lip, that was the day he kissed her on the side of the road.

“Anything else before we pull of the ‘crime of the century?’” He asked.

“What else did you tell them?”

“That you and I went to Worthington together and fell in love at first site, however you being the hawk that you are pursued me relentlessly to the point that I almost got a restraining order for stalking,” he said quickly.

“Pacey,” she groaned, “why do you constantly put me in these situations where I feel like a complete idiot in front of strangers because of crazy stories you pull out of your ass?”

He smirked, “Stay in that train of thought,” he silenced her as he scanned the numbers in the apartment complex. “For a second there I thought we really were married.”

Before she could answer his hand was on the door, “I want a divorce,” she said quickly before the door was answered.

“Hi you must be the Witter’s,” a perky brunette with rounded belly in tow said cheerfully as she swung open the door.

“Actually it’s Potter-Witter,” Joey cut in, “He can take my honor but he can’t take my freedom, right?”

The woman smiled uneasily ushering them through the entrance. “You have to ignore her, we think, well,” he pressed her palm against her stomach, “she’s thinking for two.”

“Oh,” the woman’s face lit up, “congratulations!”

Joey’s eyes widened as she turned a disappointing glare towards her ‘husband’. “Behave sweetheart,” he said through gritted teeth hidden behind a plastered smile.

“Well my husband’s not home right now but I’ll be happy to show you the place.”

“That’d be lovely,” Pacey nodded turning on the charm.

It was a nice place, a reasonably large kitchenette looking out into the living room, she could already see Pacey flipping French toast and frying bacon with ease in the confines. The living room was in the center of the main room with two large windows overlooking the city. Right next to the front door was a short hallway with two bedrooms and a communal bathroom.

“It’s all lovely really,” Joey said almost distractedly.

“Well do you think this place is to your liking?” The woman asked, “I’d hate to sound desperate, really I would but Howard and I are in a hurry to move, he just got a job offering out in Chicago and the sooner we get there, the less I have to worry about moving my boatload of clothing with an even larger belly.”

“No I think it’s perfect,” Pacey said, “in fact why don’t we discuss the details.”

Already bored with that idea, Joey wondered around the living room approaching the large windows. She folded her arms over her chest staring out the window to the street below. It had a reasonable view five stories from the ground, it offered no birds eye view of the enormous city, yet still put you in a position of power. Pressing her forehead against it she looked down at the pedestrians her warm breath fogging the her view with each exhale as it condensed against the glass.

“Hey,” she felt his chin sink onto her shoulder rolling over the joint until it found a comfortable niche his arms circling her waist soon after.

The holiday party was an unproductive evening as she stood before the Christmas tree, done up perfectly in usual Leery style. She had spent part of the evening inspecting Gail’s rounded belly, another part measuring the alcohol percentage in the eggnog, a disappointing zero, and singing inappropriate holiday carols with Jen around the piano. Yet the only thought that lingered in her mind was the kiss between Dawson and Gretchen. She wasn’t sure if it bothered her, she wasn’t sure is she was okay with it either, she really didn’t feel anything at all. 

Catching an ornament on her finger she listened to it jingle as the white lights reflected in every direction. “You know what they say,” his booming voice swam through her veins, through every beat of her heart. “Every time a bell rings, another angel gets its wings.”

She tilted her head back her nose brushing against his, “I thought Abby Morgan just got poked in the ass with a pitch fork.”

He kissed her nose, “Yeah, well that too.” Rocking her back and forth in his arms he nuzzled his nose in her hair, “You know what I was thinking.”

“Ditching this party for a little one of our own?” She cocked a brow.

He clicked his tongue, “Tsk, tsk, Miss Potter, I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.” She giggled as he continued to whisper in her ear, “I was actually thinking about the Guggenheim.”

She blushed, “Please, we don’t have to continue the reaming on my lack of international knowledge.”

“See I thought we could fix that,” he grinned, “how are we going to outdo last summer?”

Joey narrowed her eyes, “What do you mean by that.”

He kissed her jaw line, “You and me sailing on the Mediterranean, the clichéd backpack through Europe, all that good stuff.”

“That would be impossible to afford.”

He shook his head, “A lot of things are impossible, but that doesn’t stop us from trying,” his lips trailed down her neck, “and sometimes your pleasantly surprised.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she sucked her lip between her teeth, “Keep talking.”

He grinned, “You and I in one of those gondolas through Venice as I serenade you to a spectacular rendition of That’s Amouré, French kisses on the tip of the Eiffel Tower, Belgian waffles in Belgium, Hamburgers in Germany, Greek salads in Greece.”

She laughed, “Sounds romantic.”

“And you love it,” he kissed her cheek. Her face lit up, “But if you don’t like my suggestion we could always go with yours.”

“Which one was that again?”

He trailed his thumb across her bottom lip, “You and me ditching the rest of this party.”

She giggled again covering her lips trying to capture the feeling his contact left, “I’m not that kind of girl.”

Pacey captured her earlobe between his teeth eliciting a sharp gasp of air, “Oh really?”

“Joey,” he whispered in her ear. Jumping out of her trance she cocked her head to him, “We got it,” he grinned widely tilting his head to kiss her cheek.

~*~

Cracking the lollipop against her teeth she placed her hands firmly on her hips. “Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?” Joey asked pouring the last can of paint into the rolling tray, cringing as she inspected the pale green tone.

“It’s just paint Jo, it’s not like its permanent,” Jack refuted waving his own strawberry treat in his hand as he spoke. Filing through the paint brushes he instructed Joey to bring with her, he said, “If anything I’ll just buy a can of white and fix it.”

She licked her lips, “Alright then, what are we doing with all these colors?” Trays of greens and blues and reds and yellows lined the floor all laughing at the hopeless white walls that stood mobilized in anticipation.

“I was thinking about a Jarvis-esque type theme, you know? Unleashing my inner soul.”

“You do realize you’ll be living inside this masterpiece,” Joey warned brushing a loose tendril of hair from her eyes, “not just passing it on the way to the toilet.”

“Shut up and paint,” he said tossing her a brush.

Balancing the tool in her hand she inspected her choice of colors dragging her tongue across her bottom lip as she dunked the brush in her first selection. “Are we happy or manic depressive?”

“Both,” he decided.

Pressing the brush against the wall she cringed as she trailed the deep green a good two feet across the clean white canvas.

Jack followed suit splattering a barrage of colors across the wall. “When’s Pacey coming back?” She asked dipping a fresh brush in a new paint.

“I don’t know when his shift is over,” Jack shrugged dragging the stick of his lollipop to the other corner of his mouth, “is my company so lacking?”

“No your company is more then enough Jack McPhee,” she said pursing her lips as she studied her linear motions on the wall crossing over it with a squiggle of red.

“There’s just no chance I’ll sleep with you anytime soon.”

She narrowed her eyes, “What do you mean by that?”

Smirking he turned back to his art smearing a tidal wave of blue and green and yellow, “Nothing.”

She sighed dropping her paint brush in the tray and picking up a rag, blending some colors, “I’ve been wondering a lot lately…” she trailed off, she could talk to Jack about this, she could talk to him about anything. He was her confident who never judged her, through break ups with Dawson, through love triangles gone a rye, through fears of taking the next step he had always given her the best of advice.

“What?” He asked.

“I’ve been wondering a lot lately why Pacey and I aren’t together.”

He smiled, “Do you need a list or have you already thought this all through.”

She scowled playfully at him flicking a few droplets of paint against the wall, “It’s just all the reasons we broke up— me in Boston him in Capeside,” she gestured around herself, “that hurtle is gone. And the problem with dating a Worthington girl feeling that I was too good for him, that didn’t stop him from dating Audrey who was rich and never had to work a day in her life.”

“So you want to be with Pacey,” Jack concluded.

She frowned, “But he’s hurt me like nobody else ever has. All the fights and hurtful things that we’ve done to one another,” she bit her lip, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the fact that he left.”

“So you don’t want to…”

“I don’t know,” she groaned.

“What do you want me to say Jo, do you want me to say go for it, do you want me to tell you to stay away? Either way it seems you’re going to be miserable.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If you keep on dwelling on what happened, you’ll never be able to move onto the future. You were so in love yet hurt by Pacey that it’s stopped you from entering another serious relationship since. You chose the Professor over that Eliot kid because he wanted more from you then a little fling. You went after Charlie because it was a game, just a little fun that you knew meant nothing, and Dawson, he’s just a story that you know the ending by heart.” He dripped another color onto his canvas, “Pacey’s been the only one you’ve been with that you can’t see the future, you don’t know where the two of you are heading and that terrifies you because you can’t control yourself from getting hurt.”

She closed her eyes tightly sucking her lip between her teeth, “I just don’t know what to do, Jack.”

Brushing a few strands of hair from her eyes he tilted her chin to look at him, “Do what your hear tells you.”

She jumped at the crash of the front door listening to the pitter patter of his footsteps echo across the apartment, “Hi honey I’m home,” he waved to Jack. Almost past the doorframe he stopped back stepping a few feet to take another look, “What happened in here?”

Joey’s eyes trailed across their dripping concoction, a maelstrom of every color of the rainbow along with a few of their very own creations. “Jarvis,” she explained.

He chewed on the inside of his lip inspecting the walls, “Never heard of it.” Clapping his hands together he nodded down the hall, “I think I’ll be hiding in my room during this war of the Loews Home Improvement.”

“No one is safe!” Jack called after him.

~*~

The pain of knowing that even though the two of you are right for each other, that doesn’t necessarily mean that you are right for each other right now

She pressed her palm on the surface of the door her other hand cautiously approaching the door knob. Pounding her head against the barrier she wondered why suddenly she was so scared, why she wanted to turn around and run to Timbuktu if that were even possible. Inhaling deeply she gingerly opened the door peeking her head inside. 

He was slightly startled as he clapped the book in his hands shut giving her a bewildered glance before calming to her presence, “Hey,” he grinned, “you and Jack done unleashing your artistic frustrations?”

She bit back her grin taking a valiant step forward, “Let’s just say he’ll be having nightmares for years.”

He propped himself on his elbows resting the book by his side, the entire room barren with simply a bed with plain white sheets and a suitcase in the corner. “Are you staying her tonight?” She asked settling on the edge of the bed.

He shrugged, “Probably, just to break it in, you know?”

She nodded trailing her gaze down to the book cradled in his hand, his thumb still marking the page he left off on, “Is that our book?”

He chuckled uneasily flipping through some pages, “Yeah actually, when I went out to storage, where Doug was keeping all of mine and Gretchen’s crap from the beach house I found it.” He opened the book to her in offering, “You want to read a bit, for old time sake?”

Her lopsided grin gave her answer as she crawled up the length of the bed tucking her self into the crook of his arm. He laughed at her forwardness skimming the page for his spot, “Where were we.”

“The sea witch,” she said confidently, suddenly every moment of their adventures on the True Love explicitly clear.

He cleared his throat turning a few pages, “‘I know what you want,’ said the sea witch; ‘it is very stupid of you, but you shall have your way, and it will bring you to sorrow, my pretty princess.” He raspy voice echoed through the silence of the room each tone and syllable attracting her more and more. “‘You want to get rid of your fish’s tail, and to have two supports instead of it, like human beings on earth, so that the young prince may fall in love with you, and that you may have an immortal soul.’” Her eyes fluttered close intent on following the pace of his breath which blended melodically with the beat of his heart. “Your turn,” his voice broke through her reverie.

She took it from him rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling, the stars looking back at her. “Skylight,” she whispered, “pretty sweet deal.”

“It was a compromise,” he said his eyes following hers, “He got the bigger room, I got the skylight.”

She searched through her memory trying to identify each and every star. Sailing through the Atlantic, astronomy book on hand as they learned the night sky almost as well as each other. Jumping to each shining light she followed the trail back home.

“I was thinking about getting a water bed, you know, stars in the sky, Anderson in hand, you on my arm, I feel like I’m sailing in the Keys again.”

She turned her attention back to the book flipping through all the familiar tales, “As long as I get my Dramamine.” 

He smiled slightly nodding his head, “Jo,” he began, “why didn’t you go?”

She furrowed her brows, “Go where?”

“To LA,” he elaborated, “why didn’t you go with Dawson to LA?”

“It was irrational; I couldn’t just drop my entire life and jump on a plane.”

“But a boat is an entirely different story.”

“It was different,” she defended.

“How?”

She frowned, “I don’t know.” She sighed, “Because Dawson inspired me to stay the same, and you inspired me to move forward.”

“And which path would you rather take?”

“I thought I knew,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. Her eyes met his, the glossy sheen of the moonlight blurring her view, “I don’t know anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes trying to digest everything.
 

She sat up, “You know what, I should get going.”

He blinked a few time, “Yeah I guess so.”

She climbed off the bed heading towards the door, “So I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Pacey nodded following after her. “Yeah, thanks for keeping me company, I guess,” he said pulling her into a hug.

“It’s the least I can do, right?”

He kissed her cheek, “Goodnight Jo.”

She turned back to the door her hand on the knob.

If you felt even one shred of what I feel for you, then we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation.

“Pacey,” she caught him off guard turning back to him.

He stood there staring at her strangely his eyes searching hers. She closed the distance between them crushing her lips against his.
 

Clinging her arms around his neck she pulled away waiting for a response. His eyes darkened as he leaned back in capturing her lips with his deepening the kiss as his tongue parted her lips.
 

His hands trailed down her sides pushing against the small of her back, her lithe body pressing against his as he relearned every crevice of her body vividly. The familiarity quickly took over as they fell back into their same routine. The paths of their tongues in perfect synchronization, as his hand slipped under the hem of her tank top.

The wasted year was forgotten and not a day had passes since they had parted.

She tangled her fingers through his chestnut hair, rolling onto her toes to meet every kiss with growing passion. His hands smoothed over the curve of her ass as his lips left hers trailing over her jaw, down her neck and across her shoulder tasting every available inch of flesh, the sudden addiction he thought he had overcome consuming him again.
 

Lifting her flimsy tank top over her head it was quickly discarded to the floor as they fell to the bed. She locked her ankles around his waist rolling her hips against his growing erection. Stripping off his shirt desperately it became clear that making up for lost time was not going to be easy.