Pace Morgan dipped the ladle into the huge pot of steaming soup and gently poured its contents into a small bowl.

"Here you go Mrs. Johnson," he said, giving an elderly lady the bowl.

Mrs. Johnson beamed.  "Thank you." She took her eight-year old granddaughter by the hand and led her over to a vacant bench.

"Bye Kayla," Pace called, waving to the adorable little girl.

Kayla gave him a bashful grin then buried her face in her grandmother's sweater.

Pace sighed, thinking about how horrible it must be to not have a home.  I could have been like that he mused as he continued filling bowls.  The place was packed today.  Pace tried to come every week and volunteer his time.  For some reason, it always made him feel better knowing that he had helped someone that needed anybody to care.  Maybe it made him feel like he was actually accomplishing something good in his life.

"Hey Pace," Ben Moss said, coming up next to him.  "How you doing?"  Ben was the director.

Pace smiled at the older man.  "Hey Ben.  I'm okay.  You?"

"Can't complain," he replied, handing an elderly man a spoon.  "Wrote any new songs?"

"I just saw you last week," Pace said, smiling.

"I know that dip head.  Besides, you seem a little preoccupied."  Ben looked up from where he was counting spoons and gave Pace a pointed stare.

Pace rolled his eyes.  "What makes you say that?"

"Well, the fact that you've been off in outer space all day…and you're about to make that bowl overflow."

Pace quickly dropped the ladle and handed over the bowl of soup.

Ben laughed softly.  "See?"

"Sorry man.  I guess I am preoccupied."

"So, what's on your mind," Ben prodded.  "Work?  Family?  A woman?"

Pace cleared his throat, trying to think of a change of topic.

Ben's eyes lit up.  "Is it a woman Pace?"

Pace didn't say anything.

Ben began to laugh.  "You dog," he said, slapping Pace on the back.  "Who is she?"

"I'm not seeing anyone," Pace insisted, looking down at the pot of vegetable soup.

"Yeah, sure.  I've heard that one before.  I've used that one before."  He took the ladle from Pace.  "Go take a break and get some fresh air."

Pace grumbled but consented.  Snatching his coat off its hook he trudged outside.

Pace decided to take a walk around Washington Square Park and was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize that he wasn't alone.

"Get a free meal?"

Pace spun around, startled.  Sitting on a bench with a sketchbook in her lap was Joey Potter.  She was looking at him with an amused expression and Pace felt a smile spread across his face at the sight of her.  "Hey."

"Or are you the religious type," she inquired.

Pace shook his head.  "Not religious.  And even if I was, I don't think I'd be catholic.  Besides, my family's in politics."

Joey laughed and his heart skipped a beat.

"Well, it's obvious what I'm doing here," she said, getting up and walking over to him, stuffing her sketchpad inside her shoulder bag.  "So, what are you doing here?"

"My my.  Aren't we 'Miss Ten Thousand Questions' today?"

Joey smiled impishly.  "Sorry."

Pace grinned, thinking that she looked beautiful with a snowcap on and a red nose.  What the hell is wrong with you Morgan?  Get it together.  "You want to grab some lunch?"  Shut up Pace.

Joey rose an eyebrow.  "At the soup kitchen?"

Pace rolled his eyes.  "No lame-o.  At Googie's…" he trailed off, a weird sensation creeping up his back.

"No lame-o.  I stole this from your permanent collection."

What the hell was that?  Pace looked over at Joey and noticed an odd expression on her face.  "Joey?  Are you okay?"

 Joey shook her head as if clearing it and smiled.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  Lunch sounds great."

Twenty minutes later Pace and Joey were seated at a table in Googie's, the dumpy but charming barbecue restaurant on West Third Street, looking out the window.  Joey was drinking hot chocolate while Pace had a cup of strong black coffee.

"So, how long have you lived in New York," he asked, checking out the menu.

"Is this the 'get to know you' conversation," Joey responded, amused.

"Well, that's usually reserved for the first date but we've never been on one.  Wait-that's-that's not-not what I was trying to-oh god!"  Pace dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

Joey laughed.  "It's okay.  I know exactly how you feel."

"Really," he said from the safety of his hands, afraid to look at her.

Joey nodded.  "Yeah.  See, I have no problem speaking my mind but, sometimes, around people that I don't know I tend to be kind of shy."

Pace lifted his head and grinned at her.  "Exactly.  Plus, I'm a private person."

"Me too," Joey agreed.  "I want personal things kept just that-personal.  But…."

"But when you want to get to know someone you find it hard to open up about yourself," Pace finished.

Joey looked at him, surprised.  "Yeah."

"Well, then we have something in common," Pace said softly, gazing into her sad brown eyes.

There was a comfortable silence as they sat there, quietly looking at each other.  They might have stared for ages if their waitress had not chosen to come over to take their orders.  After she had gone, Pace leaned his elbows on the table and dropped his chin on the backs of his hands thoughtfully.  "How about we relay?  I ask a question then you ask a question."

"Works for me," she agreed, taking a sip of her cocoa.

"Great."  Pace was silent for a moment, thinking of what he wanted to ask first.  "So, Joey Potter, how long have you lived in New York?"

"Six years.  But, if you count college, I've been here off and on for nine.  You?"

"Ten," he said easily.  That wasn't a hard question.  "How about your parents?"

Joey winced slightly.  "My mom died of cancer when I was young."

"And your father?"

Joey sighed.  "I really don't want to talk about my dad if that's okay."

Pace nodded.  "Sure, no problem.  Only say what you want to."

"How about your mom and dad?"

Pace gulped.  Hard question.  "Uh…my dad, as I said earlier, was a politician for the great state of New York and ran a textile company.  My mother was a private piano instructor.  They're both retired now and live in Jacksonville, Florida."

"Wow.  Sounds like you have great parents."

Pace nodded thoughtfully.  "Yeah.  I do.  So, did your parents have more than one child or do you have a brother or a sister walking around?"

Joey smiled.  "I have a sister…an older sister named Bessie.  She's the one that took care of me."

"Oh.  So, she's the protective type?"

Joey nodded.  "Very.  Then again, so am I."  She paused, looking at him closely.  "And I get the impression that you're a brother and that you are also very protective."

Pace smiled.  "I am."

"Thought so.  Anyway, Bessie's great.  She had a son, with a black man, out of wedlock, when I was fifteen.  This was, of course, scandalous considering that we lived in a small town."

Pace smiled.  "I imagine.  But you survived."

"Damn right," Joey said, lifting her chin proudly.  "The Potter sisters might be small and poor but we've always had the will to survive."

"I can tell," Pace told her, giving her a look that made Joey's knees shake under the table.

Joey looked away and took another sip of her hot chocolate.  "So, brother, sister or both?"

"Sister," Pace supplied, taking a sip of his coffee.  "Her name's Kristina and she's eight years younger than I am.  Right now she's at school in Boston, studying to be a neurosurgeon."

"Really?"

Pace nodded.

"Wow.  You must be her inspiration," Joey said, a twinkle in her eyes.

Pace beamed.  "Something like that."

They both laughed, feeling at ease with one another.

"When did you decide that art was what you wanted to do with your life," Pace asked, curious as to when she had recognized her extraordinary talent.

"Well, I've always loved to draw.  But I would have to say that it really kicked in when I was a teenager."  Joey stopped talking as a far-off look crept into her eyes.

Pace's thoughts drifted back to the first day they'd met on the street.  The sadness that he'd seen in her eyes, the sadness that was there when she'd explained the sketch of the man on the beach at the gallery and when he'd taken her home.  That same sadness was in her eyes now and Pace realized that he would give anything to know what it was that made Joey so unhappy.

Joey sighed, coming out of her trance.  "I guess it just took my family, friends and-" Joey changed tracks mid-sentence.  "It finally dawned on me."

Pace noticed her change in direction but did not want to push her into revealing any of her secrets if she didn't want to.  Lord knew that he had plenty locked away.  "You're an incredible artist Joey," he told her honestly.  "You have an amazing gift."

Joey blushed slightly.  "Thanks.  So, what about you?  Did you always want to be a songwriter?"

"Not good at taking compliments huh," he asked a knowing look on his face.

"No, not really."

Pace grinned.  "Get used to it because I'm sure you'll be hearing plenty of them in your lifetime."

Joey said nothing; just looked out the window.

Pace decided to drop that line of talk and answer her question.  "I had no clue as to what I wanted to do with my life until my senior year of high school.  Then I fell in love."

Joey focused on him again.  "Really?"

"Yeah; with music."

Joey smiled.

"My mom taught me how to play the piano.  I taught myself how to play the guitar and all there really is to playing the drums, or at least to me, is beating in the right place at the right time so…I caught on pretty quick."

Joey snickered behind her cup.

"So, I went to Julliard and wowed everyone with my musical prowess, sold my first song while I was still an undergraduate and its been uphill ever since," Pace finished, drinking the last of his coffee.

"You can tell that we don't read a lot of magazine or watch a lot of television," Joey commented.

"What makes you say that," he asked as their sandwiches arrived.

"Because if we did then we would already know the answers to all the questions we just asked."

Pace laughed.  "True…but would they be the accurate answers?"

Joey grinned.  "You're right."

They dug into their sandwiches for a moment, enjoying each other's company.

Finally, Pace broke the silence.  "So, about Friday night, where did you want to go?"

Joey dropped her sandwich and smacked her forehead.  "Dammit!  I can't believe I forgot to call you!"

"What's the problem," he asked, trying not to laugh at how cute she looked when she was distressed.

"I have to go out of town on Friday for a week or so.  My publicist set up this thing where I go around and meet with a bunch of critics at different galleries and such.

Pace tried not to show his disappointment.  "Oh.  Okay."

Joey grinned hopefully.  "Maybe we could reschedule?"

Don't even think about it Pace his brain warned.  "Sure."

Joey let out a breath of relief.  "Great.  What time would work for you?"

Pace stroked his chin thoughtfully.  "Well, I have this convention I have to go to about the time you get back.  It's this Future Songwriters Camp."

"Oh wow," Joey said, her eyes sparkling with interest.  "Sounds wonderful."

Pace smiled.  "Yeah.  Some of us 'well-known' songwriters get to spend time with the aspiring ones.  It's actually a pretty cool time."

"I imagine," Joey said, wiping her mouth with her napkin.  "One of the galleries has a Young Artists program that they hold each year where hopefuls get to spend a week working with some of its artists.  I was asked to participate last year and I had a blast.  I'm looking forward to this years."

"And when is that?"

"Around the end of February."

"Well," Pace said chuckling.  "It looks like we'll have to wait until March."

"Seems that way," Joey commented, not wanting to let him see that she was disappointed.

Pace had an idea.  It was a terrible idea.  He shouldn't even ask her but couldn't stop himself.  "Wait a minute.  What are you doing for the rest of the day?"

Joey looked at him curiously.  "Well, I had planned on sketching some more.  Why?"

"Spend the rest of the day with me," Pace blurted out before he could stop himself.

Joey blinked, surprised.  "What did you have in mind?"

You, me and my king size bed.  Pace mentally slapped himself.  Shut up and stop thinking with your libido.  "I have to go back over to the church for awhile and finish up what I was doing.  I'm sure that you could find something interesting to sketch there.  Once I'm done there we could have dinner, or go for a walk, see a movie, anything."  Pace shut his mouth before he could say anything else.

Joey thought about his proposal as she chewed on the last of her sandwich.  Finally, she smiled.  "That sounds great."

Pace stared at her for a moment, not sure if he'd heard correctly.  "Really?"

"Yeah."

Pace grinned.  "Great."

Stepping back inside the church was like stepping into a war zone.  People were everywhere.  Joey followed Pace to where Ben and the others were.

"Here we are," Pace announced, hanging their coats on hooks.

"Pace," Ben called.  "Where the hell have you been?  Carla's apron caught on fire again."

Joey looked horrified but Pace burst into laughter.  "How many times does that make now?  Twenty…twenty-five?"

Carla smiled but discreetly gave him the finger.

"I saw that Carla," he joked.

Joey rose an eyebrow.  "You know these people?"

"Yeah," Pace said, motioning towards the room full of people.  "I come here just about every week."

"I'm impressed."

"Thank you," Pace said, ignoring the look that Ben was giving him.  "Come on.  I'll introduce you to a few people."  Pace held out his hand and, after a moment, Joey took it.  Electricity shot up her arm and through her body and she met his gaze.  Pace had an odd look on his face but quickly covered it and led her across the room to where an elderly lady was sitting with a young girl.

"Mrs. Johnson?"

The lady looked up and a genuine smile spread across her face.  "Pace.  You've brought someone.  Is she your wife?"

Pace felt something tug at his stomach and glanced at Joey who caught his eye and smiled shyly.  "No, Mrs. Johnson.  This is Joey Potter, she's a-a friend of mine."

"Oh."  Mrs. Johnson nudged the little girl.  "Kayla, look who Mr. Morgan brought to see us."

The little girl gazed up at Joey with bright green eyes.  "Hello."

"Hi Kayla.  I'm Joey."

"You're beautiful," she said softly, ducking her head behind her grandmother's shoulder.

Joey blushed and Pace grinned.  "Thank you Kayla.  Let me assure you that I am no where near as gorgeous as you are."

The little girl giggled and sat back up.  "What's that," she asked, pointing to Joey's bag.

"Joey's an artist," Pace said, winking at Mrs. Johnson.

Kayla's eyes grew wide as saucers.  "An artist?  WOW!"

"PACE!"

Pace turned around to see Ben motioning for him to come over.  "I got to get back to what I came here to do.  Joey, why don't you sit down and show Kayla some of your sketches?"

"That's a wonderful idea," Joey agreed.

Pace and Joey both looked down at their joined hands.  Slowly, they let go, feeling something like a connection being broken.  Pace made his way over to Ben as Joey sat down next to Kayla and opened her sketchbook.

"Who the hell is that and where in the name of Saint Theresa have you been hiding her," Ben demanded as soon as Pace had washed his hands and returned to the line.

"Shh," Pace muttered.

"Well?"

"I haven't been hiding her anywhere," Pace said defensively.  "This is only the fourth time that I have literally seen her."

"Who is she?"

"Her name's Joey."

"Joey?"

"Yep."

"Are you dating?"

Pace rolled his eyes.  "No, we're just friends," he said, desperately wanting to change the subject.

"Then how come you can't keep your eyes off her," Ben quipped, a knowing smirk on his face.

Pace glared at him.  "Ben, really.  I'm just making sure that she's okay."

"Pace, that woman is more than 'okay'."

Pace snorted.  "You realize that Sonya is going to have you doing twenty Our Father's if you don't stop talking like that."

"Yeah, I know.  But still…damn Pace."

"Shh.  We're not dating."

"Sure Pace.  Whatever you say," Ben said, trying to keep a straight face.

Pace let out an irritated sigh and beat the ladle against the pot with each word.  "Why is it, all of a sudden, that everyone assumes we're an item or that I'm getting some or whatever you want to call it?  Why?"

Ben cautiously reached over and plucked the ladle out of Pace's hand before he could break it.  "Pace, calm down man.  All I'm saying is that you're different somehow."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."  Ben shrugged.  "I've known you for six years and you have never brought anyone here, besides your sister, much less even remotely talked about any of your past relationships-"

"We're not dating," Pace exclaimed, lowering his voice so that the whole room wouldn't hear.

"I didn't say that," Ben protested.

"Then what did you say?"

Ben put a hand on Pace's shoulder.  "What I've been trying to tell you is that I see potential."

Pace stared at him.

"And, whether you believe this or not, I can see that you care for her more than you're willing to admit; even if you did just meet her.  It's written all over your face."

Pace sighed.  "Ben, I really don't-"

"And I see the same thing on her face too."

Pace shut his mouth, stunned.  He looked at Joey, then to Ben, back to Joey and finally back to Ben.  "You're seeing something that's not there."

Ben chuckled.  "You're so clueless."

"Hey," Pace snapped, offended.

Ben held up his hand.  "I'm not finished."

"Explain," Pace demanded, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at Ben.

Ben smiled.  "Pace, I've been the youth advisor at this church for twenty years.  I've seen all forms of bizarre mating rituals, puppy love, obsession and even preludes to the real thing."

"Go on."

Ben handed a bowl of soup to a straggler and turned his attention back to Pace.  "In my experience there are five stages to love: first contact, denial, acceptance, torture and bliss.

Pace looked at him, confused.  "Huh?"

"Let me explain the five stages to you, in-depth."

"God-Ben!  I don't-"

"No, seriously Pace.  Just listen to me."  Ben held up one finger.  "The first stage is 'first contact'.  This is when you see the person for the first time.  You are either immediately overcome with desire and yearning or you realize right away that you're not attracted to one another, right?"

"Okay," Pace said, not really sure where this five stages crap was going.

"So, how did you meet Joey?"

"We literally ran into each other on a street corner."

"Definite sparkage," Ben commented, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Ben!"

"Okay, okay."  Another finger shot up.  "The second stage is 'denial'.  This is where you refuse to believe that you could possibly have feelings for this person and vice-versa or that this person could actually be interested in you and maybe could be trusted with your heart."

Pace didn't respond but the look on his face said enough.

"The third stage," Ben continued, "is 'acceptance'.  This is where you can admit, at least to yourself, that you really care for this person."

Pace nodded thoughtfully.

"The fourth stage is 'torture' and it's one of my personal favorites.  You will do anything to let that person know that you care-without specifically saying so.  You'll pine, you'll do crazy things you can't explain, you will live each day just for that one glimpse, breathlessly waiting for a sign that your feelings are returned."  Ben paused and studied Pace.  He had a strange look in his eyes that Ben had never seen before.  Shrugging, Ben finished his description.  "The fifth, and final, stage is 'bliss'.  Put it in capital letters, bold it, make it fire engine red-it doesn't matter.  You're on cloud nine!  Everything is new and wondrous because you'll experience it together.  You'll have that wonderful and steamy sex that you've been fantasizing about since stage one.  You'll turn into complete mush but you will not give a flying Nike!  And believe me Pace, you'll look back on everything that happened in the other four stages and it will all be worth it."

Pace sighed.  "What does all this have to do with me?"

Ben rolled his eyes.  "You my friend have already passed the first stage and could easily be in the fourth stage by now, where you love her so much it's torture, but you're stuck in the second stage."

Pace's eyebrows rose.  "Huh?"

"Denial is not just a river buddy," Ben said, chuckling.

Pace just glared at him.

Joey was busy sketching a sleeping Kayla and talking with Mrs. Johnson, who insisted on being called Hilda.  "If you mind my asking this, just say so," Joey began.  "But how did you and Kayla come to be homeless?"

Hilda sighed.  "Well, technically, we're not homeless.  We live in a renovated warehouse with others like us who can barely afford to survive."

Joey frowned.  "Oh."

"My daughter and son-in-law, Kayla's parents, were killed in a plane crash a few years back.  Kayla's grandfather and I were the only living relatives so, of course, we took Kayla in.  About two years ago, our house caught fire and John, Kayla's grandfather and my husband, perished in the fire retrieving our most precious possession; our granddaughter.  Kayla made it out, of course, but John didn't."

Joey felt tears sting her eyes at the sad tale but refused to cry.

"Afterwards, I couldn't find a job.  I'm old, we didn't have insurance, so there was nowhere else for us to go except the streets.  Then we got lucky and came upon a very low key shelter for homeless people.  I havee a small job, Kayla goes to school but it's not the same.  We can barely afford to survive."  Hilda sighed as she looked down at the sleeping girl.  "I wish that I could give her everything she needs and a few of the things that she so desperately wants.  I suppose I could have her adopted-but I can't bear to part with her.  Kayla's all I have."

Joey nodded.  "I'm probably showing my ignorance here but is there any way for you to get help?"

Hilda looked at Joey with sad eyes.  "This is New York, Joey."

Joey bowed her head.  "I wish that there were something I could do."

Hilda smiled.  "You've done more than you realize my dear.  Taking the time to sit here and show Kayla your work and letting her draw on your paper-it meant the world to her.  Kayla has always loved art.  Tell me, are you a professional?"

Joey blushed and looked down at the floor.  "Yeah."

"Dear, that's nothing to be ashamed of.  You have beautiful work."

"But you have nothing," Joey blurted.

"That is not your fault Joey," Hilda said, taking Joey's hand in hers.  "You've done something just by being here."

Joey smiled softly.  "You think?"

Hilda nodded.  "I never say anything unless I mean it."

"Okay…then thank you."

"You're welcome."  Hilda glanced over to where Pace and Ben were.  She caught Pace gazing at Joey and smiled.  He quickly waved and looked away.  "I think you've won him over."

"Who," Joey asked, confused.

"Mr. Morgan-Pace.  He's never brought anyone here besides his sister."

Joey's eyebrows rose.  "Oh."

"Are the two of you dating?"

Joey shook her head.  "No, we're not."

"Well, you should."

"Why do you say that," Joey asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

"I have eyes Joey," Hilda said, chuckling.

"We're just friends," Joey stated.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself," Hilda asked, a knowing smile on her face.

Joey fell silent.

"Let me put it to you this way.  A man never looks at a woman the way that Pace has been looking at you unless he's interested…and vice versa."

"Hilda, I-" Joey began but Hilda held up her hand.

"Joey, sweetie, trust me.  Something is definitely there between you two and I think that it would be a waste for the both of you to let an opportunity like this slip away."

"What are you talking about," Joey asked, not really following her.

"On love Joey."

"No Hilda.  You've got it all wrong," Joey protested.

"I don't think so," Hilda replied, looking over at Pace who was helping Ben clean up.

"Do you come here every week," Joey asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Hilda nodded.

"I'd like to come back and visit with you again, if that's okay?"

Hilda smiled.  "We'd love that."

It was time to close up.  Pace walked over to where Joey was sitting, thumbing through her sketchbook.  "Hey," he said softly.

Joey looked up and flashed him a smile.  "Hi.  You done?"

"Yep.  We can go."

Joey got to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder.  "Ready."

The night was cold but after being inside the church for hours it felt great.

"So, that was quite a surprise," Joey commented as they walked along the streets, no particular destination in mind.

"What?"

"You being a volunteer at a soup kitchen."

"Well, I'm full of surprises I guess," Pace said sheepishly.

"I'm learning that," she replied, smiling.

Pace smiled back.  "So, what would you like to do?"

Joey groaned.  "Would you think me bland if I told you that all I really want to do is curl up in front of a huge fire?"

Pace shook his head.  "Absolutely not.  That's one of my favorite things to do.  I just-don’t have a fireplace."

"I don't either," she admitted sheepishly.

They both laughed.

"That's the only thing I hate about my apartment," Pace said, kicking at a lone lump of dirty snow.

"Me too.  I miss the one that I have at home."

"'Home' as in where your sister is," Pace asked curiously.

"Yeah.  She runs a B&B and we have one of the best fireplaces.  I miss it."

"And where is this fireplace, if I may ask?"

"Massachusetts."

"Wow.  Small town girl, huh?"

"Definitely."

Pace smiled.  "So, fireplaces are out."

"Yeah."

"Anything else?"

"Well, we could curl up on opposite ends of the couch and talk?"

"Sounds like a winner to me," Pace agreed.  "What about dinner?"

"We could grab something on the way…or we could act like teenagers and order pizza?"

Pace grinned.  "Works for me."

Joey nodded.  "Okay."

What the hell are you doing Morgan his mind screamed.  Back out!  Back out now!  "My place or yours," he asked softly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Joey gulped.  "Uh-mine."

"Okay.  Let's go."

Pace watched Joey as she trudged down the street.  Something kept pushing him closer and closer to her.  He just couldn't figure out what it was.

Joey unlocked the door to her apartment and flipped on the light.  "Home sweet home," she said, motioning for Pace to come in.

Pace stepped inside and looked around.  "Wow."

"I take it you like my digs," Joey asked, smiling.

"Definitely.  It has 'Joey' written all over it."

"Really?"

Pace shrugged.  "Yeah.  You've got the big window overlooking the city and the huge studio.  It definitely seems like you."

"And you've known me what-a day," Joey teased.

"Well, technically, a little over a month if you start with our first encounter."

They both laughed.

"Well, I'm going to get out of these clothes and put on something more comfy."

Pace nodded slowly, trying to keep out the dirty thoughts.  "Okay."

"Make yourself at home.  You can order the pizza if you want.  The number's on the fridge."

"What kind do you eat?"

"I eat anything except anchovies, onions, sausage or peppers-but you can put them on your half if you want."

"All right."

Joe disappeared to her bedroom and Pace literally had to grip the counter to keep from running after her.  What the hell is the matter with you Morgan he scolded himself.  I realize that you're horny Pace.  It's been a long time…but just keep it together.  Bullshit.  It was more than wanting to get laid and he knew it.  Pace grabbed the phone off its base and dialed the pizza place, desperately trying to think about anything other than Joey changing in the next room.  As if on cue, her door opened and Joey reappeared, wearing sweatpants and a tank top.

"I don't have any guy clothes-wait, yes I do."  Joey went back to her room, before Pace could protest, and began digging around in her closet until she found what she was searching for.  Smiling triumphantly she went back to the kitchen and held up a pair of sweats.  "These are my buddy Dawson's.  I keep a pair here for when he's in town and needs a place to crash."

Pace shook his head.  "Thanks but no thanks.  I'm fine, really."

"You sure?"

"Yeah.  Wait a minute.  Dawson…that name sounds familiar."

Joey smirked.  "It should.  Dawson Leery.  One of the famous young directors in Hollywood."

Pace's eyebrows rose.  "You know Dawson Leery?"

Joey nodded.  "I've slept with him too."

Pace's mouth feel open.  He had not expected that.

Joey began to laugh, howling until tears sprang to her eyes and she had to hold her stomach.

"What," Pace asked, irritated.

"You thought I meant in the 'I want to handcuff you to my headboard' kind of way, didn't you?"

Pace shrugged, thinking that wouldn't be so bad if she was the one to do it.  "What was I supposed to think?"

Joey opened the fridge and took out two sodas.  She handed him one and took the other over to the couch.  Sitting down, Joey tucked her feet beneath her and popped the top on her can, talking as she did so.  "Dawson and I have known each other practically since birth," she explained.

"Oh."  Pace sat down on the other end of the couch.  "So, you grew up together?"

Joey smiled.  "Yep.  Slept in the same bed, at least once a week, until we were fifteen.  Had the whole crush/disastrous relationship thing-got torn apart when I fell for his best friend…" Joey trailed off, tears shining in her eyes.

Obviously it was a touchy subject for her.  "Is that why you always have a sadness in your eyes," he asked softly, watching her face for her reaction.

"I could ask you the same thing," she responded, meeting his gaze.

Pace gulped.  "Topic change?"

"I knew you were gonna say that."

"I'll make a deal with you Joey."

"And what's that?"

Pace looked her directly in the eyes.  "I'll tell you my sob story…when you tell me yours."

Joey thought about this for a moment, then she nodded.  "Deal."

The buzzer rang, signaling that the pizza had arrived.

"I'll get it," Joey announced, jumping to her feet.

"No you don't," Pace interjected as Joey opened the door.

"You bought lunch," Joey argued.

"I asked you to diner," Pace responded, trying to hand the delivery boy a twenty.

Joey snatched the money out of Pace's hand and dug her own twenty out.  "No!  My treat.  I insist."

"That's not right," Pace protested.

"And why is that?"

"Because a guy's supposed to pay!"

Joey rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise.  "This is pizza Pace, not fillet mingon."

"So?"

"So, you're not paying for this."

The delivery boy, who had quietly listened to their heated exchange, finally spoke up.  "Would someone please pay for the pizza?  I have five other deliveries and if the pizza's cold I get docked for it!"

Joey and Pace immediately ceased bickering and simultaneously thrust a twenty each under the delivery boy's nose.  Joey took the pizza box from him while Pace stuffed the money inside the boy's shirt pocket.

"Keep the change," he said, giving the boy a smile and closing the door.

The boy was too stunned to say anything for a moment.  "Thank you," he finally called from the other side of the door before taking off.

Joey looked at Pace, Pace looked at Joey and they burst into laughter.

"I haven't done that in a while," Joey admitted, wiping her cheeks with her free hand as she sat the pizza on the counter.

"We always seem to butt heads whenever we're together," Pace commented, taking the paper plate she offered him.

"True.  Does that bother you," she asked, scooping two slices of pizza onto her plate.

Pace shook his head.  "Oddly, no.  It's actually rather refreshing."

Joey smiled.  "I completely agree."

Pace smiled back as they brought their food over to the couch and sat down.  "I bet the delivery boy didn't mind.  He just got a twenty-five dollar tip."

Joey grinned.  "He probably hopes we'll call a lot."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they munched on pizza.

Pace's eyes scanned the room.  "That your boyfriend," he asked, pointing to a picture of Jack that was on the wall.

Joey's eyes followed his finger and she almost choked on her pizza. "He was, at one time, until he came out of the closet.  That's Jack McPhee.  The would-be professional football star turned photographer."

Pace's eyebrows shot up.  "You know him too?"

Joey rolled her eyes.  "I guess I can tell you this story.  As I've said, Dawson and I have been friends forever and-and-there was another one of us but-but I can't go into that.  When we hit the tenth grade Jen Lindley, an interior designer, came to our town as well as Jack and his sister Andie, a college professor, and we became the six musketeers."  Joey looked down at her plate.  "I don't want to talk about that anymore."

Pace nodded.  "All right."

Joey sighed.  "Maybe one day Pace.  I just-it's difficult.  I mean, I just met you and-"

"It's okay," Pace interjected.  "Believe me.  I have events in my past that I have a hard time talking about too."

Joey smiled.  "Well, aren't we a couple of spastics huh?"

Pace laughed.  "Yeah, I guess we are."

Joey took a sip of her soda, composing herself.  "So, tell me, do you have any famous friends?"

Pace smiled.  "My father does.  I have acquaintances that are wealthy, famous and powerful but most of them are in the music biz."  Pace sighed and scratched his head nervously.  "Would you think me odd if I told you that I only have a handful of friends?"

Joey shook her head.  "If you're weird than so am I."

"Really?"

"Yep."

Pace laughed.  "It's funny how most people think that those of us in the spotlight have loads of friends when in reality we only have a few people that we can really trust."

"Very true."

Joey chewed on her pizza for a moment.  "You know, I've been thinking a lot about Hilda and Kayla."

"They're great, aren't they," Pace asked, smiling.

"Yeah, they are.  Pace, have you ever thought about opening a center for them…or something to help?"

Pace sighed.  "Yeah, I've thought about it.  But something like that is so hard to get approved, especially here.  Besides, you need funding and-"

"Yeah, I could see where that would be a problem," Joey agreed.

"But, if it makes you feel any better, I can assure you that Kayla and Hilda really enjoyed the time you spent with them today."

"Thanks."

Pace got up and took both of their plates to the kitchen and dumped them in the garbage can.  "It's getting late.  I should probably go."

"Okay," Joey agreed, rising to her feet.  "Hey listen.  Why don't we do the actual dinner tomorrow night?"

"But you've got to pack."

"I'll pack tomorrow afternoon."

Pace thought about it for a moment, knowing that he shouldn't but unable to say no.  "Sounds great."

"Okay.  Well, you're the one with my phone number.  Call me tomorrow and let me know when and where."

"Will do," Pace agreed, opening the door.  "Joey, I had a great time today."

"Yeah, me too.  I'm glad we bumped into each other-again."

Pace smiled.  "Well, this is goodnight."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow."

"Goodnight Pace."

"Night Joey."

As soon as the door shut behind him, Joey locked it, threw their empty soda cans in the garbage, slid the pizza box in the fridge, flipped off the lights and went straight to her bedroom.  Grabbing the picture of Pacey and she that was kept on her dresser she sank to her bed.  Joey was beyond confused.  She'd known this man for only a short time and yet it seemed as if she'd known him forever.  Her head was spinning with voices telling her to go for it and others telling her to get out while she still could.  Exhausted, Joey lay back against her pillows, gazing down at the picture, trying to figure everything out.

Pace closed the door to his apartment with a sigh.

C.C. barked once in greeting.

"Not tonight buddy," Pace apologized.  "I need to think."

C.C. obediently trudged back to the bedroom and plopped on his bed by the door.

Pace walked over to the window and looked out at the city.  It had been a day full of surprises; most of them coming from himself.  Ever since he had seen Joey this morning all he had wanted to do was grab her and kiss her.  And that was something he did not need to do, much less think about.  Pace didn't need to get involved with anyone…but for some reason, with Joey, he couldn't stop himself.

RRRIIIINNNNGGGG!

Joey blindly reached over and fumbled for the telephone, finally finding it and bringing it to her ear.  "Hello?"

"JOEY!"

Joey winced.  "Jen, why the hell are you yelling at me?"

"You are not going to believe who's mentioned in the gossip section this morning."

"Who?  Dawson," Joey asked, not really caring.

"No, YOU ARE!"

Joey sat up in bed, completely awake.  "HUH?"

"Joey, why didn't you tell me the two of you were dating?"

Joey sighed and smacked her forehead.  "Dammit!  We're not dating," she exclaimed, hearing a rustling of paper from the other end.

Jen cleared her throat.  "Here's what it says and I quote:  'Could it be love?  Well known songwriter Daniel 'Pace' Morgan was seen around the town yesterday with none other than respected young artist Joey Potter.  The couple was spotted at the volunteer soup kitchen on West Third, at Googie's having lunch and taking a stroll through Washington Square Park.  Morgan and Potter are both notorious for keeping their private lives out of the media.'"

Joey groaned.  "Great, just great.   We spend one afternoon together and everyone thinks we're an item."

"Don't you want to be," Jen asked curiously.

"Jen, really.  I hardly know him."

"But you told me that you felt like you already knew him."

Joey sighed.  "I know that but you know how I am."

"Yeah, Joey.  I do.  And I think it's time that you got over it."

Joey bit her lip.  "SHIT!  I have to call Pace!  He probably doesn't know about this yet…considering the fact that you woke me up at 6:30 in the morning to tell me."

"Sorry.  I just thought that you should know."

"Yeah, thanks.  How are you?  The baby keep you up last night?"

"Yeah, but it's worth it.  You should see Henry."

"I'm going to have to drop by there and see you before I leave."

"Okay.  Looking forward to it.  Good luck."

"Thanks.  I’m going to need it."

They hung up and Joey pulled her caller I.D. over to where she could see it.  Finding Pace's number, she punched in the digits and waited.

Pace was sleeping when the phone woke him.  "Crap," he muttered, reaching over and plucking the phone off the nightstand.  "Skip, this had better be good," he mumbled.

"Pace, it's not Skip.  It's Joey."

Pace sat up.  She sounded funny.  "Joey.  What's wrong?"

"Well, I just got a call from my friend Jen.  It seems that we're in the gossip section this morning."

"You're kidding," Pace said, rubbing his temple.

"Afraid not.  I don't have the paper but Jen read it to me."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Pace sighed and got out of bed.  Chocolate Chip jumped to his feet and followed Pace into the kitchen.

"What do you think we should do," Joey asked.

"Well, there's not really anything we can do.  We just have to ignore it.  The press always exaggerates things.  You and I both live in the smaller spotlight but people still gossip."

Joey sighed.  "You're right.  I'm sorry.  It’s just-I-"

"Don't like people talking about you," Pace asked.

"No, I'm used to that.  I just don't like it when they say things that aren't true."

"Amen," Pace agreed as he fed Chocolate Chip.  "So, are we still on for tonight?"

"Of course."

Pace smiled in relief.  "Okay.  Where do you want to go?"

"Hmm…how about The Underground?  I think Jen mentioned something about a live performance tonight."

"Works for me.  What time do you want me to come by?"

"How about I meet you there?"

Pace chuckled.  "Understood.  So, it's a date.  Eight o'clock?"  Dammit, I just said "date".

Did he just say the word "date"?  "Great," Joey agreed.

"Do you want me to get us a table," he asked, trying to wrap up the conversation so he could hang up and berate himself.

"Yeah."

"Okay.  I'll so you there."

"Yeah.  Bye Pace."

"Bye Joey."

At precisely eight o'clock, Joey strode into the bar/club The Underground and looked for Pace.  Her morning had been a hectic one full of going over early plans for her opening and packing for her trip.  The afternoon had been spent deciding on what she was going to wear.  Joey had never been one to spend hours picking out an ensemble and had yelled at herself the entire time.  But, in all honesty, Joey wanted to look good for her "date".  Obviously, Joey couldn't show up in her favorite blue jeans and paint-streaked T-shirt so she spent two hours rummaging through her closet, dissecting outfits.  Finally, she'd pulled out the dress that Jen had bought her as a birthday gift last year.  It was short, dark blue and spaghetti strapped.  Joey had protested, saying that she would never wear a dress like that but Jen had told her to save it for the unexpected.  Now seemed like the best time as any so Joey had showered and pulled the dress on, completely shocked to find that it actually looked okay on.  To complete the outfit Joey had pulled on her favorite knee-length black boots and grabbed her leather jacket.  Standing inside the club now she was glad that she'd worn what she had.  Finally finding Pace, Joey took a deep breath and walked over to the table where he was sitting.

Joey hung up the phone and stared out her window, realizing that she was actually looking forward to their "date".

Pace looked up when he heard someone stop next to him and stared.  Whoa.  Joey in boots and a short dress was almost more than he could take. If I saw her naked I'd probably explode.  Pace shut that thought out.  You are ordering some porn as soon as you get home, boy.  "Hi," he finally said, his eyes sweeping over her approvingly.

Joey felt herself blushing slightly from his appraising gaze and sat down on the chair across from him.  "So, what's your poison?"

Pace held up his beer.

Joey crinkled her nose.  "I'm not a big drinker myself."

The waitress came over.  "What can I get you?"

Joey pointed to Pace's mug.  "I'll have what he's having."

Pace raised his eyebrows.  "Beer drinker?"

"Not really.  But, I'm from a small town.  All there was to do was go swimming in the creek, mope, and go to keggers, even though I rarely did that last one.  If you were to ask me what 'sex on the beach' was before I moved to New York I would have said 'something really uncomfortable, probably.'"

Pace laughed.  "You're a trip Joey."

"Thank you.  I try."

"Anyone follow you?"

"Nope.  But, if anyone recognizes us, we could end up in the paper again tomorrow morning."

"Would that bother you," Pace asked, curious.

"Nah, not really."

Joey's beer arrived and she took a healthy sip.  "So, when does the live music start?"

"Nine, I think.  There are two acts.  One's a punk rock group and the other is a contemporary singer from Canada."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"So, what kind of music do you like?"

"Anything but country and rap."

"Understood."

"So, Joey Potter, where do we go from here," he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Honestly, I have no clue," she said, giving him a lopsided smile.

"Me either," Pace admitted.

Joey leaned closer so that he could hear her over the din in the club.  "To be completely honest with you I haven't been on a date in a really long time."

Pace was surprised.  How could a woman like Joey not have hordes of guys knocking at her door?  "By your own choice," he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

Joey nodded.  "Yeah."

"Could I ask why?"

Joey sighed.  "I've been burned too many times.  How about you?"

"I'm not really one for dating."

"Me either.  But surely you've found someone that sparks your interest?"

"Not really," he said, looking her in the eyes.  "At least not until now."

Joey stared at him, biting her lip nervously.  "Umm…so, what you're saying is that you're interested in me?"

Pace nodded even though he knew he should get up and get the hell out of the club before it was too late to go back.  "Yeah."

Joey smiled softly.  "Well, I'm interested in you too."  What the hell did I just say?

Pace laughed.  "Then I guess we've gotten that part out of the way, huh?"

"Yeah."

Pace glanced over to the stage where the first act was setting up.  "Well, Joey, in our previous four encounters we've talked about our families, our jobs, our friends…but we've never gotten personal."

"I know."

"Why do you think that is?"

Maybe we're both scared," Joey said softly, looking at him intently.

Pace gulped.  "Maybe."

They gazed at each other for a moment before their waitress brought them another round.

"So, how did you get the nickname 'Pace'," Joey asked, glad for the diversion.

Pace chuckled.  "I couldn't sit still.  I can't now.  My foot's wiggling under the table as we speak."

Joey laughed.  "Then you're aptly named."

"Yeah.  What about you?  Is Joey your real name?"

Joey grimaced.  "No."

"What is?"

"Promise not to laugh?"

"Of course."

Joey sighed.  "Josephine."

Pace smiled.  "Like in Little Women?"

Joey nodded.  "Yeah."

"My sister loves that book."

"So do I."

"She'd love to meet you I'm sure."

"Well, maybe she will.  Now that we're friends."

Friends.  Pace looked down at the table for a moment.  "Joey, can I ask you a rather unusual question?"

Joey shrugged.  "Sure."

Pace looked at her carefully as he asked his question.  "What made you remember me?"

Joey was obviously surprised by the question and it took her a moment to answer.  "Well, other than the fact that we collided, I would have to say it was your voice."

Pace blinked.  "My voice?"

"Yeah.  Even before I looked up I knew that you'd be attractive."  Shut up Joey.

Pace's eyebrows shot up.  "Really?"

"Yeah.  And-and you have very nice hands."

Pace was too stunned to speak.

Joey continued, blushing a little, grateful for their dark surroundings.  "They were strong, but gentle, when you reached out and kept me from falling.  This jolt shot through me and, to be honest, it's been a long time since any man has been able to do that."  Joey looked down at the table for a moment before meeting his eyes.

Pace was having a hard time controlling his hands at that moment.  What they wanted to do was cup her face and pull her over so that he could kiss her.  Instead, he clasped them tightly in his lap.

"What about me," she asked timidly.

Pace looked back up and answered without hesitation.  "Your eyes."

Joey looked surprised.  "What's so special about my eyes?"

"For one thing, they're luminous.  And, the other, they're full of this sadness and pain buried just below the surface."

She was looking at him with a bewildered expression on her face.  "How can you tell?"

"You hide it well Joey," he told her.  "I guess I can just see it."

"Because it's in your own eyes," Joey added, looking at him closely.

Pace gulped.  "Exactly."

The first act chose that moment to begin playing and they both looked towards the stage trying to ignore the connection that was growing between them.
 
 

An hour later the second set had begun and Pace and Joey had lapsed into silence, not sure of what to say but enjoying one another's company.  Joey thought that the woman's voice sounded familiar but she wasn't quiet sure.

Finally, Pace broke their silence.  "Well, I guess that we should dance huh?"

Joey looked at him pleadingly.  "I'm not that great of a dancer."

"Neither am I," he said, getting up and extending his hand out to her.

Joey looked at it for a moment then took it.

Pace wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her to her feet, leading her to the crowded dance floor.  The singer was in the middle of a slow number.

"It's been forever since I've done this," Pace admitted, hesitantly placing one hand on her waist as she placed hers on his shoulder.

"Me too."

The song ended and another began.  Familiar music drifted through the club to Joey's ears and Pace felt her tense.

"Joey?  Are you okay?"

"I'm a bit rusty at this," Joey finally said, leaning her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed, trying to block out the memories that were washing over her.

Joey was still tense and Pace realized that the song must hold painful memories for her.  He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, trying to give her a little comfort. What the hell are you doing his mind screamed.  Get the hell out of here while you still can.  His heart, on the other hand, was telling him to hold on and never let go.

Joey was having a hard time keeping the tears from flowing down her cheeks.  The last time that she'd heard this song had been in her subconscious and the other time had been in Pacey's arms at the anti-prom.  The feelings that had been evoked, words that had been on the tip of her tongue, all of it came back to her and Joey had to bite her lip to keep from loosing it.

Pace felt her tense even more and held her tightly, running his hands gently over her back, desperately trying to take some of her pain away.

Joey could remember every word so clearly, as if it had taken place yesterday.  The look on Pacey's face when he'd told her about the bracelet, how she was beautiful and how wonderful it felt to be held in his arms even though it had seemed wrong at the time….

"I remember everything."

And in that moment, so did Joey.

An instrumental break in the song began and Pace had a weird tingling in his head.  His body seemed to be prickling.  It was almost as if something was trying to surface, like this song held memories for him as well.  It wouldn't come and Pace ran his finger up Joey's spine, hoping that he could make her relax.

Joey pulled back as the last part of the song began.

Pace met her eyes and felt his stomach flip-flop.  She was looking at him with the most tortured gaze he had ever seen, her eyes shining with unshed tears, mirroring the sadness in her heart.  "Joey?"

Joey pulled away.  "I-I'm sorry Pace.  I-I have to go.  Ex-excuse me.""  Joey turned and strode off the dance floor, grabbed her jacket off her chair and ran out of the club.

Pace didn't waste any time following her.  He threw some money on the table to pay for their drinks, slung his jacket over his shoulders and rushed out after her.  He emerged onto the street and looked both ways but she was nowhere to be found.

Joey ran blindly down the street, tears streaming down her face, not caring if people looked at her like she was crazy.  Then again, maybe she was crazy.  She'd been dancing with a very attractive man, having his arms around her and all she could think about was a dead man.  No matter how hard Joey tried, all she heard were Pacey's words, all she felt was the way that he had made her feel.  And, when she had looked up at Pace just now, she hadn't seen his face.  She'd seen Pacey's.

For the first time in ten years Joey had felt a true connection with someone.  Even with Phillip she'd never really felt a click.  He'd been safe for her.  But Pace Morgan, who conjured up long dead emotions inside of her, was different.  Never had anyone, except Pacey, made her feel the way she did when he was with her.  Joey's closed-off heart suddenly came back to life, old wounds burst open and she found herself spiraling out of control.  Her second chance, one that she had wished for, had presented itself and she'd blown it.

Pace walked around New York for hours, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep, desperately trying to clear his head.  Something strange was happening to him.  Every time that he was with Joey he would hear things inside his head.  Things that he'd never heard that originated from somewhere else, that he desperately wanted to find reasons for.  He had long since given up on recovering his memories, certain that he would never find his loved ones and had confined himself to his own personal prison.  Then Joey had come along and burst his cell wide open.

Pace still wasn't sure what had made him pick up the phone that night and ask for her number.  It was almost like something had made him do it.  And that something had continued to push him closer to Joey.  And tonight, he'd seen something in her eyes that had scared the shit out of him.  Pace ran his hands through his disheveled hair, thoroughly confused.  Why the hell had she run out on him?  Had she seen the emotions that he was positive had been boiling in his eyes?  Had it scared her as much as it scared him?  Too many questions were swimming around in his head and Pace had no answers.

Joey let herself into her apartment and shut the door softly.  She leaned against the wooden surface, feeling as if she were going to pass out.  Joey pushed herself off the door and shakily made her way to the bedroom.  She dropped to her knees on the hardwood floor and pulled a box out from the drawer of her nightstand.  Opening it gently, she turned on the light and went through its contents.  The box consisted of her picture taken at the retreat of Pacey and she kissing, a few sketches she had done, other various items and Pacey's journal.  Joey took it out and unzipped the cover, running her fingers over the paper and the penmanship that was almost eleven years old.  The writings of a dead man that somehow gave her comfort when she needed it most.  Flipping through the pages, Joey noticed that two of the pages were stuck together and gently pried them apart.  Somehow, over the years, she had never noticed this.  Curious, Joey read the hidden entry.
 

February 15, 2000

I really thought I could do it.  I tried to tell her this morning but I failed.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day and I really let my mouth run away with me.  I got trashed, said some things to Joey, and Dawson, that I never should have said, and spent the night in jail.  I'm just so sick of their little melodrama.  Honestly, I don't think Dawson realizes just how incredible Joey is.  I would give anything to have Joey care about me the way that she cares about him.  And, last night, I let my frustration take over and really hurt Joey's feelings.

I had a talk with Deputy Doug and spent the rest of the night thinking about everything.  Then, this morning, I made up my mind that I was going to tell Joey how I felt, regardless of the consequences.  I knocked on her door and apologized for my behavior and she told me that she was concerned about me too!  Hearing that gave me a little courage and I opened my mouth to tell her…but I couldn't.  Looking into her beautiful eyes, I realized that I didn't have the balls.  I know, I'm a chicken and I've never been a chicken.

So, instead, I offered to teach her how to drive Bessie's truck.  That's the way I spent my morning, teaching Joey how to drive a stick shift.  She caught on pretty quick too.  I think I may have actually helped her!

Now, I'm sitting at home, locked in my room writing this.  I don't think I'll ever be able to tell Joey how I feel about her.  I'm just going to have to bury those feelings.  No feelings of mine are worth loosing the two people that I cherish most in the world.  So, I'll just keep my mouth shut, love her from afar and save everyone the pain that voicing my feelings would cause.  I'll keep the heartache to myself.
 

Joey closed the journal and held it against her heart, tears flowing down her cheeks.  They'd had fun that morning.  She'd actually been surprised that he'd shown up on her back porch but the look on his face when he'd apologized had been enough to make her forgive him for his harsh words.  Truth be told, she'd forgiven him that night as she'd lain awake in bed, pondering what he'd said.  Pacey had said some harsh, but truthful, things to her.  And, somewhere deep down, she had hoped that maybe Pacey had said those things because he wanted to be with her.  And now, after all these years, she found out that was true.

Joey turned off her light and climbed into bed, fully clothed.  Her thoughts drifted to Pace again and she felt fresh tears spring to her eyes.  She'd acted like a real bitch tonight, thinking of someone else and running out on him.  He probably never wanted to see her again.  And Joey wouldn't blame him for that.  She was far too screwed up to deserve a relationship with someone like him anyway.

Pace closed the door to his apartment and went directly to his bathroom.  He flipped on the light and stared at his reflection.  The eyes were wild and dark, swimming with emotions that he couldn't control, his skin was pallid and his hair was a mess.  Pace leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths, trying to control his turbulent emotions.  He'd been so close to surrendering himself to Joey that it wasn't even funny.  There was no way that he could do that.  It wasn't meant to be.  Pace was not meant to find love and he had to accept that fact.  Well, he had accepted that fact until he'd met her.  Joey…she was driving him insane.  Dancing with her tonight had been like sweet torture.  Feelings he never thought he'd feel boiled up inside of him.  And that was too dangerous.

Pace left the bathroom, walked back out to the living room and sank to the couch.  C.C. came over and gently rested his head on Pace's feet, sensing that he was troubled.  Pace patted the dog's head for a moment then jumped to his feet.  He began to pace around the room, his chin against his chest, while his thoughts plagued him.  Why did he feel so strange whenever he touched Joey?  What was it that was trying to get him to remember?  Normally, writing in his lyric notebook would help calm his nerves, but Pace had a feeling that if he tried that tonight he'd end up ripping the notebook to shreds.

Pace let his thoughts run away.  What have you always said his mind demanded.  Never show weakness and never let your guard down.  It only makes you more likely to fall.  You can't let Joey do this to you.  You promised yourself a long time ago that you would never drag a woman into your twisted life.  You were keeping that promise until you met Joey.

"Why the hell didn't I take another street," he muttered aloud.

Because something made you go that way Pace.  You know it did his heart answered.  You can't deny that anymore than you can deny the fact that you've fallen for her.  Don't deny it Pace.  Don't give up on her.  Don't give up on yourself.  Your happiness is out there…waiting for you to find it.

Pace threw back his head and let out a demented chuckle.  He was completely and irreversibly screwed up.  No happy ending was waiting for him.  He couldn't see Joey again.  It would only cause her more pain.  Pace knew that he could never have her.  He dropped to his knees and placed his forehead on the plush carpet, praying for the world to stop spinning, for another life and for his anger and bitterness to go away.