Previously on Dawson’s Creek:

“No, no, no. Stay here. Before anyone leaves this spot, we have a very important question to answer. Where do we really see ourselves in five years?” Joey threw a smirk at the two girls. “And not the version that you answer to your college adviser, come on.”

The lights that surrounded the small dock shown hazily. Jen pressed her lips together and then cracked a self deprecating grin. “All right. Um, I plan to be starting work on my master’s thesis, “Are Men Necessary?” Jen and Joey turned their eyes to Andie.

“And I guess I’ll be in P.R.” She giggled nervously under their gaze and her curled straw colored locks bounced against her shoulders. “‘Cause I mean, that’s all I’ve ever really been good at in life, is painting a happy face on disaster.”

“Andie,” Jen said, her tone soft.

“Well, you know. Think about it.” Andie rolled her eyes and the uncomfortable silence broke into laughter. She took a breath and stared up at the tall brunette who had been her rival both romantically and academically of late. “Okay, you’re up.”

“Um...” Joey began, the alcohol seeming to create a barrier of cotton between her and the other two. “You tell me.”

“All right,” Jen said, her tone mischievous, “All right, that’s an easy one. Um, you will have graduated from a ridiculously expensive Ivy league school, moved to New York, where you will have taken a job in a funky SoHo art gallery, where your starting salary is actually less than a year’s tuition.” She smiled and fixed a “got ya” look on Joey.

Joey found herself struck by how certain Jen was...of a future that didn’t even seem remotely possible to her at the moment. A future without...she didn’t even want to think about it. As the silence stretched a bit too long, she strived to stretch her lips into a grin. “Now, why New York?”

“Because.” Jen again looked her dead in the eyes, almost bitterly. “New York is finishing school for cynics like us.”

“I’m not a cynic,” she protested.

Andie laughed, tilting her head. “Okay, you’re not exactly sunshine personified, Joey.” The brunette merely nodded indulgently allowing the laughter of her friends. Andie wondered where Pacey was in the party, why Joey was so drunk...but once again, she stopped herself. It wasn’t her business anymore. She smiled brightly, her tone pitched high when she finally spoke. “OK, OK, you guys, come on. Right here, right now, let’s make a deal. In five years, we’ll get back together, and we’ll see if any of these predictions actually came true.”

“Deal,” Jen said.

“Deal,” Joey agreed.

“Ok.” She smiled.

“Shall we?” Jen held out a hand to Joey, who still perched unsteadily on a dock rail above the rest. Joey eyed her for a moment, finally grasping Jen’s hand between slightly trembling fingers.

“We shall.”

The three girls walked, arms around each other down the dock and back to the faint lights of the party, swaying with Joey’s staggering steps, nearly missing a deck chair and laughing harmoniously at the almost disaster. Suddenly Joey froze, almost sending all three off their feet.

“Oh, wait. You guys, how are we gonna remember the date? It’s not really Jen’s birthday.”

“I’ll remember,” Jen said solemnly. They continued slowly on their forward march, Joey’s voice echoing faintly in the breeze from the water.

“Do you promise?”

Ring. The metallic twang brought her eyes to the door and the glass to her lips. The sour liquid pursed her lips even as she gulped it down quickly. The large eyes fixed on hers doubtfully.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered between sips of her second drink, “I haven’t seen these people in five years. This...” she raised her glass for emphasis, “I need this.”

Ring. He stared at her slightly shaking fingers with a doubtful gaze and a pitying frown.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Joey muttered crossly. “Andie and Jen are coming here. You’d be scared too.” The chocolate Labrador merely cocked an ear and wagged his tail dismissively in response. “Bailey, go get the door,” she pleaded, setting her drink down on the bookshelf as she crossed the steps to the entry way.

“Joey Potter! Open the door.” Jen’s voice came through the heavy wooden door in a muffled yell. “It’s been five years-”

The door swung open and Jen stopped mouth open, mid sentence. “Hey, Jen.”

The petite blonde straightened, pulling the sleeves of her fuzzy blue sweater up to her elbows. She smiled easily and threw an arm around Joey’s waist, bringing her into a quick and familiar hug. “Hey, Joey.”

Joey stepped back, holding the door for Jen as she stepped into the small loft apartment. Jen eyed the modest little living room. A pale blue trunk served as a coffee table. Behind it was a cream colored love seat with two faded peach throw pillows. Beside that was a beatup brown armchair that matched nothing else at all. Tiny white Christmas lights hung in icicles framing the large window to the right side of the couch.

She moved to stand in front of it, frowning at the alley below her, the bricks of the building next to Joey’s, barely a yard away. If she leaned out the window just far enough to plummet to her death eight stories below, Jen figured she might be able to make out some open air, a sidewalk, and a lone tree. Maybe.

Joey watched Jen take in the place she called home from the tiny kitchen, her glass in hand. She opened the fridge and pulled out a Coke. Popping the tab she poured half of it in her glass. Her eyes fell on the rum just as Jen’s took in the tiny tea lights Joey had artfully arranged on the tiny round dining table in the corner of the room. Adding a small pour of rum to her soda, she bit her lip, watching Jen silently rest a hand on a pile of packing boxes crowded into the corner, behind the rickety bookcase filled with heavy art books.

“It’s nice.” Jen smiled, turning a second after Joey poured a larger portion of rum into her glass. “Really great.”

Joey took a hasty sip, her eyes stinging. “Yeah. I like it.”

“Never figured you’d stay in Boston.”

“Never thought you’d go back to New York,” Joey returned, a small grin gracing her lips. She ran a finger over the rim of her glass, the condensation cooling her skin. “But, y’know-”

The doorbell cut her off abruptly. Their eyes landed on the door. Bailey ran towards it, tail wagging, and he skidded on the hardwood floor, yelping when he hit it with a dull thud.

“Bailey,” Joey reprimanded gently.

She walked over and kneeled in front of the puppy, scratching behind his ears and grinning as his tail wagged enthusiastically, lightly smacking against her tailored gray slacks. Pushing him away from the door with a laugh, she stood and turned the knob, opening the door on a very wet Andie McPhee. Andie’s hair was longer than Joey had ever seen it, falling limply past her shoulders, dripping insistently down on her pastel pink dress. She held her berry overcoat tightly around her, shoulders shaking, her lips a pale blue, her teeth chattering noticeably. “Andie! Come in. God. What happened? Is it raining?”

“Raining?” She stepped into the apartment leaving a large puddle in the hall. Her eyes narrowed. “No, I just thought for a change I’d take a shower with my clothes on. What do ya think?”

Jen laughed from her perch on the edge of the love seat. “Look at that. Five years and Andie’s turned into Joey.”

“Hey!” Both girls protested, looking at Jen.

“Let me get you a towel, Andie,” Joey said, patting her and then rubbing her hand on the back of the sofa. As she crossed to the dim hallway opposite the kitchen she flashed an irritated frown over at Jen, who merely smiled widely back. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Oh, take your time,” Andie grumped, ringing her hair out into the kitchen sink. She took a cursory glance around Joey’s living room. “What’s with all the boxes?”

“No clue,” Jen answered. She looked sideways at the window. “Guess I just missed the rain. Nothing like Boston in fall, huh?”

Andie shrugged. “I prefer Florida, but whatever floats your boat.”

“I can’t believe she lives here,” Jen said quietly, standing and moving over to the other side of the kitchen counter, affectionately rubbing Andie’s cold hands. “It’s kinda, well..” She trailed off, watching the hall for Joey’s reappearance.

“A dump,” Andie finished. Just then Joey appeared, towel in hand, her smile frozen. Andie sighed and Jen covered her own mouth with her hand. “Joey..”

“But a nice dump, right?” Joey nodded her head and crossed, handing the large green towel out to Andie. “How’ve you been, Andie?”

“Great.” She stared at Joey, guilt ridden. “Just great.”

“You look great,”Joey observed, an amused smile cracking slowly on her face, “except for the whole drowned rat thing you’ve got going.”

Jen burst out laughing as Andie’s mouth fell open in surprise. “There’s the Joey I know and-”

“Am afraid of.” Joey cut in, shaking her head and chuckling. “Don’t worry, Andie. I know it’s not really the Ritz or anything. But beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”

Andie nodded. She took the towel from Joey’s outstretched hand and slowly patted at her wet hair. Jen glanced between Joey and Andie, unsure of what to say.

The silence stretched. Andie handed the towel back to Joey. She smiled and promptly left with it, Bailey following her clipped strides in a smattering of scurrying steps.

The girls looked down the hall after her. Then back at each other.

Jen raised an eyebrow. “I’m having an overwhelming feeling of deja vù here. You?”

Andie nodded emphatically. She glanced down the hall. “So.”

“So.”

“Reunion. Who’s idea was this?”

Jen bit down on the inside of her cheek. She heard merry laughter break behind her and turned to follow Andie’s gaze to Joey. She stood in the hall, eyes wide, a hand clutching her side and her whole body trembling with her laughs.

“What?” Andie looked back and forth between Joey and Jen helplessly. Jen tried to smother her own giggles, producing a mixture of coughs, hiccups and shaking in her shoulders. “You two! What?”

Joey was too caught up in her own merriment and shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh my God, Andie!”

Jen collapsed against the kitchen counter, taking heaving breaths. She buried her head in her hands.

“Jen?”

She finally pulled herself together and raised her chin up on her hand. She gave Andie a sympathetic look. “Oh, Andie. It was your idea.”

“What?”

Joey came up from behind and hugged Andie affectionately around the shoulders. She whispered in her ear. “The reunion.” She laughed again. “All. your. idea.”

Andie’s lips slowly but surely opened into a wide smile. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head all the while. “My idea.”

“Yep,” Joey said. She took a seat next to Jen, stretching her legs and resting them on the coffee table.

Andie grinned. She sat on the edge of the trunk primly. Joey nudged her with her foot. Andie laughed and patted at Joey’s ankle. “I really was an idiot back then.”

“We all were,” Jen replied, smiling.

The girls sat together, enjoying their reunion at last.

“So,” Joey started, “dinner?”

“Yeah,” Andie answered. She made no move to rise. Neither did Jen or Joey. “Need any help?”

“No. Everything’s ready. Just have to bring it out.” Joey smiled and rose. Her intake of breath was punctuated with a rushing hiss and a small wince of pain. Enough for Jen to look over.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” Joey smiled. She flexed her right knee gingerly and grimaced in spite of herself.

“Doesn’t look fine,” Andie observed.

“I hurt my knee. Pulled something. No biggie.”

“How did you-”

Joey cut Andie off briskly. “Work.”

“Oh.” She watched Joey move into the kitchen. She pulled some plates out from the cupboard above the sink. She opened the oven, a monkey oven mitt covering her hand, and produced a glass casserole dish of lasagna. “Where do you...”

“Work?” Joey finished for Andie. She scooped out a heap of lasagna with a spatula, carefully dropping it on a white plate trimmed in blue. One, two, three, four plates were filled. The fourth plate was put on a tray and returned to the oven with a gentle smile. “A restaurant across the street.”

“Oh.”

Joey frowned at the disappointment evident in her friend’s voice. “Can you get these, Jen?” She gestured to the plates with her still mitted hand. “Um, wine for dinner? Preferences? White, red? I forget what’s supposed to go with the lasagna.”

Jen picked up two dishes and set them down on the table gingerly. “I’ll go with red.”

“White for me,” Andie added. She picked up the third dish with a tentative smile. “It looks great.”

“Thanks,” Joey smiled again. “A friend’s recipe. Hope I did it right.”

She poured two glasses of red wine and one white for Andie. She wondered how drunk she was gonna be by night’s end. Bringing two wine glasses in one hand, another in the other, finally de-mitted, she took her place at the table.

She sat with her hands folded in front of her, watching the girls take small first bites. Andie’s eyes lit up. Then Jen swallowed, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

“It’s great, Joey,” Jen said. She had to stifle a giggle at the pleased grin that formed on Joey’s face. She looked like a little kid getting a gold star from her teacher.

“Perfect.” Andie took a sip of her wine. She felt a tap against her ankle and looked under the table quizzically. Bailey sat beside her feet, his tail swinging back and forth, batting her in the leg. His tongue hung out of his mouth. “Your dog looks like he wants some.”

“Bailey,” Joey chided. The puppy looked up at her sorrowfully. He slowly retreated from the table, earning a quick scratch between the ears from Joey. He scampered off happily, his tail still wagging wildly. “He’s such a nut.”

“Cute,” Jen said.

“Adorable,” Andie pronounced, her pitch rising a tad. She giggled and Joey glanced up at her, feeling a wash of affection for the way her friend used to be. “This is really amazing. What’s in it?”

“It’s pretty easy. Veggie lasagna with puttanesca sauce and pesto oil.” Joey took another bite and grinned.

“Um,” Jen looked at Joey, “as the resident city girl, can I say, what? Cooking to me is reheating last night’s takeout. Explain putty sauce to me, Jo.”

Joey laughed. Andie raised her hand. “I’m confused too and I cook.”

“Puttanesca sauce. It’s olive oil, onion, garlic, tomatoes, olives, basil, capers, and anchovies.”

Jen spit out a bite midchew. Andie downed her wine. She looked a bit green. “Anchovies?”

“I left the anchovies out,” Joey replied, a smirk lifting the corner of her lip. She quirked an eyebrow at the girls. “And the capers.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like capers.”

“Yeah,” Jen said, rolling her eyes, “we were all worried that you’d put capers in there.”

“The lasagna is just ricotta cheese, mozzarella, zucchini, eggplant, and some noodles.”

“Oh, well, wow,” Andie replied. “I usually just head to the nearest freezer section and get the kind that comes in the tins. Ready to warm in the oven.”

Joey grinned. She took Andie’s glass into the kitchen to refill it. “Well, this isn’t that much harder.”

They ate quietly, peacefully. Joey tapped at the stem of her wine glass nervously. She glanced up at Andie. “How’s Jack?”

“Good,” Andie answered, surprised. “You’d have to ask Jen for details. He hardly tells me anything.”

“He moved to New York?” Joey asked, turning her gaze on Jen.

Jen swallowed a bite of lasagna, nodding. “Yep, a couple months ago. He’s doing pretty well. He followed his new boyfriend. Who is cute in a sort of very pierced way.”

Joey raised her brows.

“Leaf is a musician,” Andie explained.

“Leaf?” Joey bit down on her bottom lip.

“His name is Bob,” Jen said, shaking her head. She leaned towards Joey, smiling conspiratorially. “He’s a cymbalist. I don’t think he does anything beyond being eye candy for the band. But Jack just adores him. And he was able to find a job in the city. He’s an accountant. Jack.”

“Jack’s a CPA?”

Andie nodded, smiling proudly. “He’s working for a big company.”

“Andie had a connection to a publishing company for him,” Jen added.

“But he got the job on his own merits,” Andie said hastily. She pushed back a stray lock of hair, fussing with it. “I just got him a number.”

“So are you doing PR?” Joey asked. She leaned back in her chair, glancing over the flickering tea lights at her friends.

“Well, no.” Andie looked down for a moment. When she met Joey’s eyes again, she was smiling brightly. “Okay, girls. It’s five years later. Where are we? Careers? Guys? Fess up.”

“You first,” said Jen. She took another sip of wine. “C’mon Andie. Jackers is very nonspecific about what you’ve been up to.” She lowered her voice with a laugh. “’She’s in Florida. Being Andie.’”

“Okay,” Andie held up her hands. “I’m not in PR. I was. And got very bored. I was at the total bottom of the heap. Glorified coffee fetcher. So I quit. I’ve been getting my teaching degree. And basically, I’m at a small elementary school all day helping out, until I finish school. Now I’m a glorified runny nose wiper.” She smiled. “And I have a boyfriend. Tim. He’s a teacher at the school. A few years older than me.”

The girls were silent and Andie looked up to meet twin horrified stares. “What? I’m fine. It’s a weird coincidence, him being named Tim. But he looks nothing like my brother, I’m not dying my hair any weird colors and I’m happy. Okay?”

“Okay,” Joey said, her tone still a tad stunned. She smirked finally.

“What?” Andie crossed her arms, annoyed.

“It’s just kinda funny is all. Very soap operatic,” Joey replied.

“And you? Miss ‘I have a soulmate,’ would know,” Andie smarted off.

“Hey!” Joey stood, her glass poised dangerously over Andie’s pale dress.

Jen rose and held her hands out between the girls. “Come on, guys! Get along.”

Joey sat down and eyed Andie with a childish pout. “Fine.”

“Truce,” Andie offered uncomfortably. Joey reached over and grasped Andie’s hand, shaking it sloppily. “Are you drunk, Joey?”

Joey rolled her eyes and smiled. She held a hand out, her index finger and thumb marking out an inch measurement. “Just a bit. So, Jen...” She swiveled in her chair to stare up at Jen, still standing. “Spanish Inquisition time. Five years. Where do you see yourself?” Joey’s forehead wrinkled. “No...not right. Five years, where are you?” Joey smiled triumphantly.

Jen shrugged and smiled gamely. “In New York City. Starting my master’s thesis.”

“Really?” Andie grinned. “Are Men Necessary?”

“With the collection of sperm banks across the country, not really. No,” Jen quipped, “But actually, I’m going for a Masters in Psychology with an emphasis on children’s mental welfare.”

“Cool,” Andie said.

Both girls turned expectantly to Joey.

“Um, dessert anyone?” Joey picked up her dish quickly and walked off towards the kitchen with it. “I made chocolate cake. With raspberries and a coffee flavored icing. It’s good.”

Jen followed her to the kitchen with her plate in hand. Andie was two steps behind and headed to the sink with her dish silently. Dirty dishes made her crazy. Well...not literally.

She washed dishes as Jen watched Joey pull a pretty dark chocolate cake out of the fridge. Joey plucked the cellophane off the cake and wordlessly opened a cupboard. She took down three small plates. “It’s your turn, Joey.”

“Hmm?” She looked up with a purposely blank expression. Reaching over Jen she grabbed a suitable knife to cut the cake. “How big a piece do you want?”

Jen arched an eyebrow at her.

Andie turned the faucet off and dried her hands on a dish towel. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Come on. Five years. Whatcha been up to?”

“You’re refusing dessert until I answer?” Joey asked dubiously.

“Well,” Jen wavered, “no. It is chocolate.” She looked over at Andie. “I can’t refuse chocolate.”

“I just wanted to wait until,” Joey started, stopping suddenly. “It’s no big deal. Okay. Five years. Got my degree, English major, Art History minor. Which you know. I mean, yeah we drifted sophomore year, but it wasn’t like we weren’t going to school near each other, Jen. And then you transferred. But...um, I graduated. A year ago. And now I’m a waitress at a restaurant nearby. I’ve been painting a lot lately and don’t really know what I wanna do with that. So that’s it.”

“Yeah?” Andie smiled at her. It was a sad, pitying smile. Which produced the oddest response in Joey. She didn’t even know what was happening...until it did. She burst out laughing. Right in both Andie and Jen’s face. “What?”

She waved her hands in front of her helplessly, still laughing. Jen looked at Andie and shrugged. She handed Joey a glass of soda that she found on a quick glance of the kitchen. Joey downed it and laughed some more. It was her rum and coke. She was really gonna have a headache tomorrow. She coughed and burst into a renewed fit of giggles. Just then they heard a sound from around the corner.

Andie and Jen looked towards the sound, as the doorknob turned and a key jingled in the lock. Bailey ran to the front door, barking happily. They heard a deep voice talking to the small puppy and the excited yips in reply.

“Jo?” The man called out. He walked out of the hallway and stood in front of the gaping girls with a wide smile. Joey continued to laugh, her eyes filling with water. “What did you two do to her?”

“N-n-nothing,” stammered Andie. “Pacey....P-p-acey?”

She backed up two steps, her eyes widening.

“Hey Lindley,” Pacey greeted Jen easily. His smile widened further at her open mouth and he pulled both girls to him in a bear hug. “Nice to see you both, looking so lovely and grown up. It’s been awhile.”

“It has,” Andie whispered, her eyes as big as saucers, “Pacey?”

“You keep saying that,” Pacey said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Joey, have you not told them yet?”

Joey flailed her hands at him, her face wet with tears, laughter still trembling through her chest. He released Andie and Jen and covered the distance between him and Joey in two long strides. Pacey pulled her close to him and swung her in an exuberant, playful circle. He kissed her with abandon, caring very little about the two old friends he knew were staring at them.

Joey smiled into his kiss, her body flush with his, warm and happy and safe. He was wet from the rain and his gray sweater clung to his arms, outlining his strong biceps. She buried her head into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. She looked up at him, her nose wrinkling. “You cooked fish today.”

“Salmon,” he admitted. He kissed her on the nose and held her loosely. The two were lost in their own world until Jen coughed. Loudly.

“Hey Pacey,” she said, smiling, “Five years. Whatcha been up to?”

He turned to her, still holding Joey in his embrace. His eyebrow raised and he smirked. “I saw you as recently as three years ago, Lindley. What’s with the five year crap?”

“It’s an expression,” she replied. Pacey turned Joey in his arms and rested his chin on her shoulder, his expression bemused.

“We made this promise,” Andie rushed to explain, “five years ago. That we would meet and-”

Pacey laughed. “I got it, McPhee. Jo told me.” He placed a kiss on Joey’s shoulder for emphasis. He darted a sideways glance at Joey quickly. “But I don’t think she’s told you yet so...”

“I was waiting for you to come home, “ Joey whispered, a soft smile gracing her lips. She looked back over at her friends and it struck Jen how content she seemed.

Joey took a deep breath. But before she could open her mouth, Pacey interrupted her. Grinning even. “Five years, huh? I’m working as a chef at Civilization still. Danny is actually on vacation with his wife right now, so I’ve been picking up some of the slack. And the extra cash from that. And...” Pacey trailed off, glancing over at the boxes in the corner of Joey’s cluttered living room.

“And Pacey’s moving in,” Joey finished. She leaned back against his broad chest. “We’re getting married.”

Pacey’s hand trailed down Joey’s arm, his thumb and index finger feeling the fast beating pulse in her wrist for a moment before continuing down her left hand, threading his fingers in hers. The cool sting of metal against his fingers only succeeded in widening his smile further. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice the ring, McPhee.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Pacey replied, his eyes glinting with mischief, “when we were together you always liked to point out all the jewelry that other guys were bestowing upon their girlfriends. And yet you missed this one?” He held Joey’s left hand up in his. A small diamond on a plain white gold band glinted back at the two gaping girls.

Andie pouted and crossed her arms. “No fair. She wasn’t wearing that earlier.”

Pacey looked down at Joey critically. She laughed. “It’s true, I wasn’t.”

“And why, may I ask, Potter?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You promised to never take it off your finger.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was doing the dishes, Pace. Do you want me to clean crusty lasagna while wearing my ring?”

“Yes, I do,” he returned. He nuzzled her neck with his nose. “I want you to wear it for everything. You are wearing my life savings on that finger, Jo.”

“Our life savings,” she corrected.

He shook his head. “No, this is my life savings. The one I was gonna use to buy another boat and sail the seven seas, stopping at foreign docks along the way with the sole purpose to seduce foreign ladies. And that dream’s all shot to hell because of you.”

She giggled and brought his lips down to hers with a hand behind his neck. “Damn straight.”

Jen and Andie watched the couple. Then looked over at each other uncomfortably. Jen coughed and Andie cleared her throat. Pacey and Joey pulled away looking both sheepish and glazed over.

“So,” Jen began, “congratulations. And wow. And,” she looked down at her watch, “it’s late. We should be getting back to our hotel. I’ve gotta go to breakfast in the morning with Grams.”

“I promised to come along,” Andie added hastily. She brushed at an invisible piece of lint. “We should get going.”

“Hey,” Pacey said, “I didn’t mean to chase you away. Please, stay.”

The girls glanced at each other for a moment, Andie pursing her lips. Jen grinned and shook her head in defeat. She linked her arm with Pacey’s and followed the couple back into the tiny home. Pacey grinned and looked over his shoulder at Andie. She stood still in the doorway for only a moment before giving in to his charming smile.

Joey was perched on the arm of the chair that clearly was Pacey’s, evident in the ease of his posture, one leg resting on the coffee table, the other kicking at the base. Andie bit back a giggle. Pacey still fidgeted.

He draped an arm over Joey’s lap, tugging her legs into his lap. His thumb traced circles over her bare ankle and she ruffled his hair affectionately before thumping him soundly on the head for attempted tickling.

“Pace, stop!” Joey laughed.

The twinges of jealousy never would go away completely, Andie marveled. Someday she would be in her rocking chair and bite back bitterness that Joey would be the one to play bingo at the retirement home with Pacey Witter. Which was an odd thought. “I bet he’d shake up all the old ladies,” she said, realizing too late it was an out loud remark. They looked over at her in surprise, all three friends. Pacey seemed to read her mind and smirked.

The night continued later than anyone had planned. There was drinking. Snacks. Stories about high school. Tales about college. Careful excisions from their shared history. More drinking.

Jen and Pacey recalled their long forgotten moment of chemistry. A failed sexual experiment. Joey halted the conversation with a good natured roll of her eyes and a liquored version of her familiar half smile.

Pacey smiled widely at that, Andie noticed. She was finally at that point where the alcohol took away any residual pettiness, feeling a fondness for the people in the room with her that could come only from years of heartache, a few really good days and...did she mention she was drinking? Well, they all were. Which was good, she thought fuzzily.

“So how the hell did it happen?” Andie asked loudly.

Joey’s mouth dropped open. Jen giggled. Pacey kissed both girls. “How did what happen?”

Andie swung her body around to question him directly, her arms flailing outward. “Joey. You. Getting married. I thought you were big manslut boy after high school.”

Pacey laughed, even as Joey’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I suppose.”

“And now?” Jen smacked Andie on the back in warning. Andie only smiled gloriously. “Why are you with Joey Potter? She destroyed you.”

The room was silent. Andie watched a nerve twitch in Pacey’s forehead with mild curiosity. Joey looked between Pacey and Andie with an all the sudden sober frown. Jen crossed her legs and picked up the popcorn Pacey had microwaved. Popping a kernel in her mouth, she watched the exchange with amusement.

“Long story short, McPhee?” Pacey’s jaw relaxed and his tone warmed. “By Joey’s sophomore year there was a little distance from Capeside and all that bullshit history. I just remembered why I liked her. Why I love her.” He glanced over at Joey, his gaze soft. “And nothing else seemed to matter.”

Joey grinned. Kissed his cheek. She left her hand on his neck, fingers rubbing at the smooth skin. Then she winked. “He neglected to mention that we were very drunk together the middle of sophomore year. And Pacey was dumped.” He started to protest and she covered his mouth with hers for a moment, settling the argument. “I jumped him.”

“Yes, she did,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her waist. Entangled together, he focused on Andie gently. Jen waved at him from her position on the couch, mouth full of popcorn. “And who can argue with that?”

“Men are so easy,” Andie grumbled at him. They stared at each other for a moment. A history between them. And then they laughed. Loud, hard, happily. Joey and Jen joined in, calling drunkenly for group hugs that Pacey and Andie refused to join in.

“I’m not that drunk,” Pacey declared. Joey trailed kisses up his neck to his ear. Then she looked up at him. “Don’t give me the eyes.” She stared, a pout forming. “Ah, come on. That doesn’t work.” Another kiss, her lower lip jutting out. “It doesn’t...”

Jen dragged Andie up to standing, the two swaying against each other.

Pacey sighed and stood, pulling Joey up with him. He shrugged and held out his arms. “Group hug?”

“Group hug!” The girls chorused.

The four friends held each other in the center of the small candlelit living room for a long time. Heads all bent to each other. Arms round each other, Pacey teasingly dropping his hand to squeeze Joey’s ass, producing a squealing protest from her. More giggles. And then a quiet voice broke through the inebriation.

“Guys?” Andie whispered.

“Yeah?” Jen replied, in drunken stage whisper.

“Let’s not wait five years next time, huh?”

“Deal,” Joey answered. There was a pause. “How many, Andie?”

Andie laughed. “I’ll let you know, Joey.”

“Do you promise?”