The Place Where We Started From

Setting: Post Season 4. Welcome to my world: no stupid contrived lies or break-ups.

Summary: School is over. Summer is beginning, and with an important date looming, Joey surprises Pacey with a private, romantic celebration of a very special occasion.

Title: From Sarah McLachlan's wonderful ode to being in love "Ice Cream" (Fumbling Towards Ecstacy, 1993): "…it's a long way down - it's a long way down - to the place where we started from..."

Other stuff: My goo crown was slipping on all the angst. Thought this would be a nice antidote to the "official" version of the end of S4. Plus I wanted *Joey* to do something nice, and sweet, and inventive for a change.

Thanks to my beloved "Fic Harem", the PaceyPorn queens, my P3, and MBTV. Special thanks to dol for whining about the sad stuff - umm I mean - making repeated requests for the goo. Also to LT for ganging up with dol and therefore kicking my butt to finish this.

He sits next to me in the truck tugging at the blindfold, “We're on Scrimshaw Lane, now you're turning at Ocean Crest.”  He's trying to narrate the route I'm taking, but I'm successfully keeping him confused by making excessive turns.

“Why don’t you just keep quiet and enjoy the surprise.” I suggest.

“It's a little hard to enjoy being blindfolded and kidnapped!”" he sputters.

Kidnapped?!  I seem to remember you being rather acquiescent to my requests to cover your eyes and be led around!”

“That's because I thought something sexual was about to happen.” his voice is that timbre that always makes me blush with desire.

“Pacey, nothing sexual is going to happen unless you stop complaining.”  He groans at the threat. “And don't touch the blindfold anymore!  We're almost there anyway.”

For a moment he is quiet as we glide from downtown, the early summer sun starting its evening descent in the sky.  Suddenly I see his hand inching towards me and I snap, “What are you doing?”

“What? I can't speak, I can't see, I thought I could at least touch - leave a man with one of his senses!”

His hand gets closer, and I slap it away, “No Pacey - no touching either!”

“What the hell?  How do I even know this is, in fact, Josephine Potter?” he blusters, “I have no way of knowing do I?  For all I know, you could be…”

“OK Prince of Paranoia, we're here.”  He starts for the blindfold, but I put my hand over his to still it. “Not yet,” I whisper “Almost, I promise.”

He is strangely docile as I go around to help him out of the truck and holding my hand he lets me lead him out of the parking lot and towards our destination.

When we reach it I give him a light kiss and let go of his hand.  Making one last check that everything is perfect I say, “You can look now.”

“If you bought me a wall Jo, I'm gonna want some sort of commission on the idea!” he jokes.  But as the material falls from his eyes the expression on his face is worth every minute of the year it took to get here.

I don't know what is more breathtaking - the light of the setting sun reflected off the water, the romantic campsite laid out on the beach, or Joey standing in front of me beaming in a gorgeous white slip of a dress that gently hugs the curves of her body.

I'm going to have to say my beautiful girlfriend wins by a landslide.  She literally takes my breath away.

“What…what is this?” I manage to ask as my eyes take in the blanket surrounded by picnic baskets and the collection of logs waiting to be lit.

“Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart.” she whispers.

“What are you talking about?” I ask walking towards her, “I thought we had the dubious distinction of sharing our anniversary with the Leery's latest.”  Resting my hands on her hips I spread my legs in the sand so I can be on her level to look in her eyes.

“Well…that is the day I got on the boat with you - but I thought that day had a little too much baggage to it.”

“You did, huh?” I smile, my thumbs absently stroking the softness of her dress.

“I did - huh -” she grins back, “so I thought we deserved a new one - a date that was just about us, and our relationship - and this is it…so…” she looks at me cautiously, “do you like it?”

I watch her and feel such waves of love, desire, and adoration wash over me that I can't even speak.  Instead I pull her against me and lean in to give her a slow, grateful kiss.

“I take that as a 'yes'.” she whispers breathlessly as we part.  Wrapping her up in a hug I cover her face with silly kisses until she is giggling wildly.  Eventually she pushes me away and grabs my hand to start eagerly pointing out everything, “C'mere - look, there's noodle salad, and cold roasted chicken, and shish kabobs,” throwing open another basket she continues, “fruit, and those little minty cookies you like, there's chocolate, and spring water, lemonade…”

“I can't believe you did this!” I laugh incredulously, “All by yourself - you're amazing!”

“Well I had some help…mmm…a lot of help!” she slips her arm around my waist, “I mean Bodie made the food, and Bessie lent all the picnic gear, Jack gave me tips on how to build the fire, and Jen helped me get it all out here.”

“And how did you manage to get hold of this exclusive little piece of beachside property?”

“Let's just say it helps to date the son of the town sheriff!”

“You had to date Dougie to get this spot?  Oh Joey - I don't know if that was worth it!” I tease but she just rolls her eyes at me.

“Listen you - be nice to Deputy Doug, he did a great deal of covert police work for us to make this possible.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, “And in return for that little favor?”

“In return I didn't bring the champagne I wanted to have, promised not to use any glassware, and vowed that in the morning we would clean everything up so there was no evidence that we'd ever been here.”

“In the morning?” my curiosity is peaked.

“Mmmm hmmm.” She turns and drapes her arms around my neck, “My anniversary present to you is this romantic sunset picnic.”  Placing soft kisses on my nose and chin she adds, “And your anniversary present to me,” her lips grace each of my cheeks, “is to spend the night here with me on the beach.”

“Damn,” I murmur as I tilt towards her lips, “I give the best presents!”

“Yes,” her words are lost in our kiss, “you do.”


He looks so good I can't stop staring at him.  As he kneels on the blanket and starts unloading the food I let his distraction be my window to just marvel at him.

Summer has just started but he's already begun to get that warm tan he got last year after months on the deck of the boat.  He's kicked his shoes off and baggy olive shorts hang off his hips - when he leans over to put the food down he exposes a sliver of skin as his shirt rides up slightly and it makes me catch my breath.

Somehow he must have known that tonight was special because he is wearing my favorite shirt - the dark blue one that buttons like all his others, but is slightly more snug - revealing more of his long lean frame.  It is not only incredibly sexy looking but brings out how gorgeously intense his eyes are.

“Stop ogling me, Potter!” he teases, interrupting me doing just that.

“I was not ogling!” I shrug at him, “I was just thinking that you would make a fine waiter - you should come work at the club with me.”

“With Mother and Norman Bates of the country club set? I don’t think so.  And don't change the subject, you were ogling me and thinking up new - and possibly illegal in over 25 states - things to do to me tonight.”

“Is sticking a shish kabob skewer in your over-inflated ego illegal?”

“No - but eating it off naked parts of my body might be!”

I playfully throw a peach at his head but he ducks it, “Hey, watch the hair, babe.”

“Sorry, Fonzie.” I crawl past him to retrieve the wayward fruit but he grabs me around my waist and pulls me in close to him.

“You are amazing - did I already tell you that?”

“Yes - you did.” I smile, with us both kneeling his leg is wedged between mine and presses his hip bone against my lower belly.  The sensation of wanting to have him starts growing from that point of contact and with my free hand I grab hold of his arm to steady myself from the sudden overwhelming ache.

“So are you gonna tell me now what you were really just thinking about?” his voice has lost the playful edge and is now deep and sensual.

“I was thinking of tossing some produce around.” I lie.  And he punishes me for it, tightening his grip on me the friction between us increases and I can nearly smell the desire simmering from my pores.

“Try again.” he growls.

“Fine - I was thinking you look incredible.  Gorgeous.  And I like your hair like that, even though last year when you cut it all off I thought I didn't.”  I move my hand up to his head and scratch my fingers through his downy hair growing out from his latest buzz cut.  “And I was thinking that if any other girl so much as looks at you with any of those same thoughts in her head - I'll have to do some serious damage.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, and he turns and takes a huge bite out of the peach still in my other hand - the juice streaming down his chin to my arm.

Much better answer!” he lets go of my waist and tilts his head down, capturing the fruit juice along my wrist, his tongue darting expertly along the sensitive flesh.

I feel heady from the encounter.  Like when a boy you like first notices you, and it leaves you spinning for days.  Except this is my boyfriend, and I've loved him for more than a year.  But the overwhelming thrill is exactly the same.  It takes my breath away.

The food is laid out and the sun is starting to set.  As we light Jack's expertly built campfire we officially start our first anniversary.


“A barnacle for your thoughts?” she asks me from her position reclining against me.

“One of these days, Jo, you're actually gonna have to go out and get me all these barnacles you owe me.” I squeeze my legs against her and she shifts her shoulders, throwing her arms over my knees. “I was thinking this is my first anniversary.  Not just with you - just, in general.  I've never had one before.  I've never made it this far.”

“Me neither.” she says quietly.

“So what do you think that means?”

“It means,” she tilts her head up at me so we are looking at each other upside down, “that we're a perfect fit.”

“Really?” I think about this for a minute. “I always thought we were sort of an imperfect fit - which is what makes it so perfect.”

“What do you mean?” she puts her hands on my thighs and pushes herself up, coming to lean against my chest.  Resting my chin on her shoulder we both look out towards the water.

“Everything about us seemed wrong on the surface - destined for disaster.  I mean, who didn't tell us that 101 times?  But somehow it works.  We work.”

“Our flaws are less flawed when we're with one another,” she says as her nails gently slide up and down my shins.  "They're not even important.”

“Exactly.”  I whisper into her hair, inhaling its sweet familiar scent.  The one I now recognize on my sheets, on my clothes, in my dreams.

“We had a pretty good year.”

“We had a pretty hard year,” I say, “but it was all worth it because it got us to right here.”

She laughs in my arms, “I was thinking the very same thing earlier.”

We stay that way for awhile, just wrapped up in one another listening to the waves on the shore and the crackling of the fire.  Finally I speak, “This is just like being on the boat.”

She turns her head and nuzzles at my cheek, “That was the plan - alone together for the whole night by the ocean.”

“Yeah?” I pull away to look at her.  She nods her head at me and reaches up to place her hand on the other side of my face, her fingers playing with my ear, sliding up into my hair.

“I was going to bring a radio for some music - then I realized that mostly what we listened to was the water slapping against the hull, the natural creaks of the boat, the foghorns and seagulls, the wind in the sails - and each other.”

Her words are so evocative that if I closed my eyes right now I could be back on True Love - sailing with her along the coast.  The memory of how deliriously happy I was then fills my every sense.

“Speaking of which…” she pulls slightly away from me, and I grab an arm before she slips out of my grasp completely.

“Where are you going?”

“I brought something, let me get it!” she squirms a little farther away and it hits me what she is going to fetch.

“Joey, did you bring us a book to read?”

Her face lights up and she nods her head, “What kind of visit to the True Love would this be if there wasn't some reading to one another involved?”

“Wait,” I don't want to let her go just yet, “Come back here a sec, First Mate.”  Obediently she slips back between my legs and I gently push her torso forward, so as she leans away her back is open to me.

Her skin is bare, golden.  I slide my hands up her arms and over her shoulders, letting them come to rest in the space between her shoulder blades.  In twelve months I have come to learn every inch of her body.  From her tiny toes shaped like seashells, to her deep dimples, to her strong shoulders that my fingers now lightly graze.

There is still something in me that is always amazed that I can reach out and just touch her like this - feel her skin underneath my fingers and know her breath as it rises and falls against my palms.

She drops her head forward and some of her hair falls with it.  The rest I brush away, letting my hand wander up to her neck - never varying the pressure or speed of my touch.  I'm mesmerized by the way she feels - how calming it is to achieve this intimacy without saying a single word.

I lean forward a little as my hands slide underneath the thin straps of her dress, dropping them to her sides.  I place just a whisper of a kiss at the first spot left bare by a strap.  Keeping my hands at her shoulders I place a series of these kisses all along her skin - as if I am painting a picture of my devotion: from one shoulder, across her spine and each blade, and over to the other shoulder.  I finish with a kiss to replace the other missing strap.

Pulling away I blow a warm breath over the skin of her back, as if erasing the imaginary art I just made there. “Jo?" I rest my chin alongside her neck.  She drops her head back against my shoulder and swallows hard.

“Yeah?” her voice cracks.

“Do you still want to read?”

A moan is audible as she considers my question, “Just for a little while,” she finally answers, “let me get the book.”  Reluctantly she pulls away from me.  As she bends over a basket to dig around I take advantage of the opportunity she seems to be offering me to admire her gorgeous backside.

“Stop ogling me, Witter!” she commands without even having to see what I'm doing.

“No way!  I am proud to admit when I'm ogling!”  I'm grinning as she comes towards me threatening to re-enact the peach incident of earlier with the book in her hand.

Dropping down to her knees in front of me she says, “Fine - then read to me.”


We sit closer to the fire now that the sun is completely gone.  I sit up while Pacey lies next to me, his head in my lap as he reads the story.  I love listening to him.  In fact what turns me on the most after his touch is his voice.  How he breathes life into all his words, gives meaning in places I never would have thought to listen for it.  The low timbre of it can shake me to a core part of myself that I never even knew existed before him.

When he combines the touching and the talking - I am completely powerless to him.  And I have no problem with that in the least.  That hazy plain of desire that he takes me to is one of my favorite places to be.

“Are you paying attention to me?” he asks suddenly.  I push his face playfully and he tries to capture one of my fingers in his teeth.  My hand must be icy because he asks me if I'm cold.

I am shivering, but I really hadn't noticed - the warmth of the fire and thick heat of being near him keeping me oblivious to the slight chill that has settled in the air.

“A little,” I admit, “but keep reading.”

“Jo,” he rises up and starts rubbing his hands up and down my arms trying to warm me up. “I admit you look incredible in that dress and I am loathe to cover up even one inch of this beautiful skin, but I don’t want my anniversary present to you to include freezing to death.”

“Sleeping bag?” I suggest.

“God I love this girl!” he exclaims.  Jumping up he pulls me with him and starts towards the bags on the other side of the fire. “Why did you bring two?”

“Bessie.  Bessie made me bring two.”

“Aaahhhh,” he nods understandingly. “Well for the sake of your lovely sister's sanity, we'll at least open the thing up and spread it around a bit.”

“Throw some sand in the bottom!”

“Ooh yeah - and let's make sure to roll it up the wrong way when we're done.” he chuckles.

“Well that shouldn't be a problem,” we stand with a sleeping bag between us trying to untie the lacing. “I don't think I've ever gotten one of those things rolled back the right way.”

“At this rate we may never get it unrolled!” he laughs as he tries tugging at the lace with his teeth. “Jesus, do you think Bessie purposely tied these things tighter than a chastity belt so that we couldn't use them at all?”

I start laughing at the image of my sister plotting to keep us in separate sleeping bags, or out of them altogether.

“Hey!  What are you laughing at?” he growls, the bag still clenched in his jaw, “Are you laughing at me Joey?!”

The more I laugh, the sillier he gets until we both end up collapsed on the ground in hysterics - the tightly coiled sleeping bag no closer to being undone than before.

“Forget my sister - we’re sleeping in the one that opens!” I finally manage to say between giggles.

“Amen!” he shouts, tossing the bag to the side and reaching over for the other one.  “Have I mentioned I love the way you think?” he looks at me as the latest tie easily unfurls in his fingers.

“Hmm…you’ve told me I was amazing - twice, you said you loved me, and you checked out my ass.  But nothing about my brilliant mind that I can remember.”  I grin at him and he slowly nods his head, a sexy smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Hmmm…how about that…well all those things are true - what I said before, including the ass checking.”


“Yup.” he rolls the bag out near the fire and starts smoothing it out with his hands.  “You are also fun, not to mention funny…” he pulls at the zipper along the side, “you are completely adorable when you first wake up in the morning, and utterly desirable when you just sit there - like you are right now - watching me.”

With the bag open he crawls into it and shifts until he gets comfortable, “You are breathtakingly gorgeous and have the most perfect lips I have ever had the pleasure of kissing.”  Resting on his elbow he lays his head in his hand and reaches the other one out to me - “You are also witty, charming, endearing, and have the sharpest, most impressive mind of any woman I have ever known.”

Taking his hand I kneel down next to him and ask “Is that it?”

“Is that it?!” his eyes widen in surprise, “I declare you an absolute goddess and love of my life, and you want more??!”

“Tell me I’m yours.” I whisper inching closer to him.

Our bodies are just barely touching as he looks up at me and taking my face in his hand he says, “You, Josephine Potter, are all…mine.”

“Yes, I am.” I murmur as he pulls me closer to him and we lose ourselves in another kiss.


We lay together in the sleeping bag both facing the fire.  Our bodies press against the lengths of one another and tangle together in our own warmth.

“Let’s play a game.” she suggests.

“What kind of game?” I ask as I nuzzle her hair. She turns and tilts her head up to kiss me.

“An anniversary game.”

“I’ve never heard of an ‘anniversary game’!” I sputter, “And it sounds suspiciously like an invention by women to catch their boyfriends in some sort of mistake, from which they can then use against said boyfriends, as guilty ammunition for the rest of poor dumb boyfriends life!”

“C’mon it will be fun.” she says, completely ignoring my rant.

“What are the rules?”

“No rules.” She pulls my arm tighter around her waist and my fingers eagerly explore the soft fabric of her dress.

“No rules?  I gotta say Jo, I’m not liking this game at all.  Why don’t we just play something a little less dangerous - like - say, Russian Roulette!”

“I’ll go first,” she announces, “What was the first moment when you thought you might like me as more than just a friend?”

I can’t tell if there is supposed to be a right answer or a wrong one with a question like this, so I just plunge in and hope that I’m playing it right, “Dance lessons with Miss Penny.”

“Really? Is that why you were making out with Jen in the coat room?” she purrs.

“See! I knew it! I don’t want to play this game!” I holler as she starts laughing at me.  “You know after experiencing your sleek seductive moves on the dance floor, Miss Potter, I had to release my raging libido somewhere.”

“Hah hah.” she mock laughs, “I’m kidding - you big baby!  Anyway, it’s your turn, ask me whatever you want.”

“How am I in bed?”

“Pacey!!” she shrieks, “You’re not playing right!!”

“Says who? You said there are no rules, I see no problem with skipping from attraction right to sex!”

“I’m not answering until you ask a better question.” she’s sort of squirming against me, and I have no doubt it is a defensive tactic to distract me from winning.  I decide to employ a little strategy of my own.

“Fine,” I murmur as drag my hand over her stomach and rest it on top of her hip.  Pulling away from her slightly I ask, “Back at you - when did you start to really like me?”

“Hasn’t happened yet.” she sighs.  Damn she’s a good strategist.

“You’d make a fine General, Potter.” I pull away from her a little more and her body visibly reacts to the loss of our physical connection.  I smile to myself as she tries to fight shaking off the space between us.

“OK - it was when you avenged the destruction of my mural.”

“Ah ha!” I raise my fist triumphantly in the air, removing the last point of contact between us, “I knew you secretly got off on my White Knight complex!!”

“Hardly, Pacey,” her hand comes to rest on the empty space where mine just was, almost as if she is trying to recover the loss of our warmth.  “It was the idea that your friendship with me wasn’t something you actually wanted, but something you were asked to do.”

“I wanted a lot more than friendship from you, Jo, that was the problem.” I whisper leaning closer to her.

“Yeah, well that’s when I started to realize the same thing.”  I can clearly remember the day she came to my brother’s and yelled at me for getting in trouble.  How near it seemed she was to telling me what I was desperate to hear, to latch on to any clue that she felt anything close to what I was feeling.  How strange to know now that she was.

“My turn again,” she chirps as she tosses her hair over her shoulder - exposing the tender skin at the back of her neck to me.  Jesus - she knows I can’t resist that area, can’t control myself from stimulating her there - how eager I am to witness her responses when attention is lavishly paid to that particular erogenous zone.  “When did you first seriously consider kissing me?”

“Awww man - from the dance class to pretty much every single second of every single day after that!” I exhale as my mind does a rewind over all the frustrations of wanting to touch her and kiss her and just - wanting her so badly it was sometimes too hard to even see straight.  “And speaking of kisses - what was going through your mind the first time we kissed by the side of the road?”

She makes a quiet little sigh as her hand starts to trace a random pattern over her hip bone, “I was thinking…” she pauses as her hand moves over to her back, “that I wanted it more than I thought I did.  That I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you back and by doing that you would know - you would see right into me how I felt.”  Her finger grasps the small zipper of her dress and smoothly slides it down as she talks.

“And that scared you.” I whisper as I become transfixed by the sight of her totally naked back shimmering in front of me.

“Terrified me.” her hand moves from the zipper and up to her shoulder, “Hence the shouting and shoving that followed!” her voice is lifted by a laugh as she pulls the strap of her dress down, freeing her arm from its constraints.  I am definitely going to lose this game.  “Pacey?  Go again.” she prompts.

“It’s your turn, Jo.” she has managed to get the other strap off and is slowly pushing her dress off her body.  My hand reaches out and covers hers, our fingers intertwining as we tug at the fabric.

“Hmmm…my turn.” she muses as she pulls her knees up and slips the dress completely off, dropping it to the side of our sleeping bag.  “What do I want to ask?”  Then in her most calculated offensive yet - she turns over so she is facing me - beautiful bare shoulders, breasts and stomach lit by the glow of the fire.

I surrender.  Quit.  Admit defeat.  But like any good opponent, she isn’t done just yet: “Unbutton your shirt.” she says as her eyes travel hungrily from my face down along my body.

“That’s not how you play the game - it’s not a question.” I vainly attempt to at least go out with some dignity.

“No rules.” she repeats in a voice thick with satisfaction at how her little idea has played out.  “We’re just asking each other things - now I’m asking you to take your shirt off.”

“You only said the buttons!” I tease as I start to follow her first request.  She watches as each one comes undone in my fingers until my shirt starts to fall away.  Then she reaches out and runs her hand along my chest, bringing it to rest just at the waistband of my shorts.  The first touch after such a build-up is electrifying and I groan at the sensation.

“So - I get to go now.” I manage to say as I lean forward to kiss her.

“Nope.  Game over.” She pushes me down and smoothly maneuvers herself on top of me.  Pushing my shirt back off my shoulders she starts lightly brushing her face over my skin - the tip of her nose a bare tickle against my chest as her hair falls around my neck.

“This is so unfair.” I weakly protest, “I think you cheated.”

Lifting her head to face me she looks me in the eye as she raises an eyebrow and teasingly asks “Does this seem like losing to you?” and to prove her point she readjusts her hips so she is pressed tantalizingly close to my groin.

“I’ll want a re-match!” I grin as she shrugs her shoulders and finally kisses me.  As my arms wrap around her and our bodies start to fit together she pulls away one last time:



“To answer your earlier question - you’re great in bed…and you know what else? I bet you’re even better in a sleeping bag.”


I’m glad I brought warm clothes with me because despite the summer heat that will be upon us shortly, morning on the beach is a pretty chilly affair.

Pacey and I lazily stumble around our campsite.  Our clean-up hindered by frequent stops to kiss, and grope, laugh and just enjoy being together on this morning.  As he kneels down to roll up the sleeping bag, he catches me watching him - dishes still in my hands.

“What?” he smiles and suddenly I want to drop the plates and run my fingers through his adorable bed head.

“Thanks for falling in love with me.”  Despite the fact it sounds pretty ridiculous I mean it.  If he had never acted on his feelings and pushed me to act on mine I may have missed out on the entire world he has opened up for me.  The world where I feel happy, and secure, and very deeply loved.

“Well you didn’t make it easy, Potter.” he smirks as he ties up the bag and carries it over to me, The denials, and the whining, and the indecision - you sure know how to work a guy to the bone!”

I cock my head at him and roll my eyes as he takes the plates from my hands and starts to put them away.  “I had to put you to the test, make sure you were worthy.”

“Worthy of you?” he cackles, “Oh that’s rich! I am so worthy of you, I am beyond worthy! In fact, I think that your year is up! I think I should move on to some other poor young thing, deserving of my devotion and unique talents in the…sack!” he finishes, kicking at the sleeping bag for hilarious emphasis.

He stands there with such a cocky grin on his face that I can’t help but burst out laughing.  He soon joins me, and I pull him into a hug.  “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” I whisper in his ear.

“Thank god!” he whispers, “and…” he pulls back to look at me before planting another kiss, “you’re welcome.”  Over his shoulder I spot something left on the ground and as we part to finish up I grab it and shove it into my pocket.  At the truck we load up all the gear and I feel a tug on my pants pocket as I reach into the cab.

“What’s this?” he asks, holding up the strip of material to my face.

“Your blindfold.” I answer as I rest against the truck.  He fondles it for a second then looks up at me slyly and says,

“I think I’ve just decided my re-match.”

“Oh yeah?  A pin the tail on the donkey competition? Or something with a piÒata?”

“No.  Better.” He leans forward and drapes the fabric over my eyes, holding it in place behind my head as his voice is low and hot in my ear, “and I guarantee I will win it.”

I shiver despite the fact that I am not cold in the least.  Reaching my hand up to my face I pull the material away and search out his hand as it rests next to me against the truck.  Slowly I slide the silky fabric around his wrist and taking both ends in my hand, I pull tightly until it closes around him.  As he gasps I murmur “Are you sure about that?”

We both look at his arm then look back at each other and he says “Have I told you that I love the way you think?”

“Yup” ducking under his arm I slide into the passenger seat.  He closes the door behind me and leans in the window, “You also mentioned doing the driving.” I add placing a kiss on his forehead.

“I did, huh?” he squints at me.  “Don’t remember that actually.”  He backs away and starts heading for the driver's side.  Inside the truck he slides the key into the ignition and as he starts the engine I notice the blindfold is tied to his wrist.  Giggling I lean over to untie it and he pulls his hand away, “No way!  That stays on!”


“Why?  To remind me of the most incredible anniversary ever, to remember every single thing I love about you, and to keep in mind all the wonderful, exciting, completely exhilarating things that are coming in the next year.”

“And so I don't forget to tie you up later?”

“Exactly. ”

“Happy Anniversary, Pacey.”

“Back at you, Jo.”


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