He once said that if we were going to beat the crap out of one another, that it should at least be over a chick.
At the time, I never gave a thought about how very right he would be.

Of course, it’s completely my own fault. I should have known that falling in love with my best friend’s…what? Soul mate? Destiny?

Either way, falling for one Miss Josephine Potter is, by far, the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Mind you, I didn’t do it on purpose. In fact, I would go so far as to say I did everything I could to avoid it. Years of fighting, mocking and disdain should have been more than enough to keep us on opposite ends of the attraction spectrum, but instead, I’m sitting here on the porch of the Potter Bed and Breakfast, doing what I’ve been doing way too much of.

I’m staring at Joey.

Joey sat on the railing that surrounded the porch, staring out at the water, refusing to look at Pacey.

“I’m not angry.”

“Your anger isn’t in question,” she stated, still avoiding looking at him, uncaring that he was starting to get annoyed. “It’s my guilt that’s far more worrisome.”

“You feel guilty?” Irritation gone, Pacey glanced up in surprise.

“Yeah. Sort of. I mean, all the rave reviews and I missed it. Not to mention my loyalty is now ranked right alongside the rest of the Witter clan.”

“I hold you in higher esteem than that, I promise.”

“Thank you.” She finally managed to look at him. “I’m sorry I missed it, Pacey.”

“How was the date?”

“Well, it started off really well, until I realized I was a little behind in the reading. Then it was…nice.”

“Nice? More lip action?”

“Pacey!” Swinging her legs around, Joey got off the railing and moved over to the stairs.

“It’s a valid question. How am I supposed to evaluate College-guy’s motives if I don’t have all the evidence? I’ve got to know to judge him.”

“Well, his motives did involve kissing, but only the one time.”

Pacey slowly got off the chair and moved next to her. “Was that from lack of trying or lack of encouragement?”

“I’m not sure,” Wrapping her arms around her legs, Joey turned to face him. “What do you think, Dr. Witter?”

“Well, you say you’re over our Mr. Leery. Is there someone else that you’ve been harboring a burning passion for that might stand in College-guy’s way?” He kept his voice light, teasing, unwilling to analyze how much the answer to the question meant to him.

“Maybe.” Joey blushed, not believing that she’d admitted even that much.

“Josephine Potter!” Pacey smiled widely and leaned down so that his face was even with hers, their eyes meeting. “Keeping secrets?”

“I can’t tell you everything, Pacey.”

He looked away for a moment, weighing his decision. Telling her this could very well bring about a bitter end to what was shaping up to be a nice friendship, and what was rapidly, in his own mind and heart, becoming something much more than that. “Dawson…sort of said something to me the other day.”

“And the non-sequitur award goes to…”

“He said that he thought it was time that I stopped looking out for you. He thought he’d done it and I’d done it, so we should let you do it yourself now.”

“I’m still not following.”

“Do you think he’s right?” He turned back to face her, needing to see her response in her expressive eyes. “Do you think that we should…that we shouldn’t spend so much time together?”

“I would think we spent time together because, against all odds, we’ve managed to become friends, Pacey.”

He reached out slowly and brushed back a lock of her hair that had fallen in her face. They both froze, their eyes locked on each other, both acutely aware of the electric current that seemed to run between them from just the simple touch. “Friends. Exactly. That’s what I thought too.”

They stared at each other, slowly moving closer. Joey could feel his warm breath on her face, barely an inch separating them.

“Joey?” Bessie opened the door and held out the phone. “It’s for you.”

Pacey smiled and stood up. “I need to be going anyway. See you tonight, Potter.”

Call me crazy. Because that’s what I’m calling myself.

Do you know what just almost happened? I almost touched lips with Pacey Witter.

PACEY.

He’s been my archenemy almost as long as Dawson’s been my best friend.

Sure, he’s been great this past year, helping get the B&B up and running, being my friend, showing his concern, but…

But he’s Pacey. The anti-Dawson. He’s crude, has soap opera worthy family problems, serious sexual history and…

And I can’t believe that I’ve fallen for him.

Let’s be honest. When he asked me at the party, and again today, if there was someone else that was distracting my attention from A.J., I almost said his name.

How pathetic is this, I ask you? Joey Potter, the girl who has loved Dawson Leery since the age of five, is now head over heels, irrevocably in love with his very best friend.

No problems brewing there, huh?

“Joey! Joey!” Jen rushed up alongside her. “Hey, you have a minute?”

“Sure.” Joey grabbed a bag of flour off the shelf. “Is this a keep shopping while we talk minute or a sit down because it’s so shocking talk minute?”

Jen smiled and pretended to think. “I suppose you’ve got the strength to shop while we talk.”

“Whew. I was afraid I’d have to put all the perishables back.”

“No need to go to extreme lengths,” Jen smiled. “What’s up?”

“Well, as you came looking for me, I’d guess that should be my question.”

“We missed you last night.”

“Is this going to be some diatribe on Pacey’s behalf? Because he’s already pardoned my transgression.”

Jen shrugged, grabbing the next thing on Joey’s shopping list and setting it in the cart. “Not here for Pacey. I just thought you’d be there.”

“Sorry if I let you down.”

“Joey?” Jen stopped walking. “Can I ask you a question?”

She sighed. “Sure.”

“What’s up with you and Pacey?”

“What do you mean?” Joey’s eyebrow arched. “There’s nothing up with the two of us. We’re friends.”

“Friends,” Jen nodded, remembering the look on Pacey’s face the night before when he’d been suffering from Joey’s absence. “Right.”

“What?” Joey looked up and stared at Jen. “Why does the disbelief in your voice bring to mind visions of denial?”

“I just think maybe you’re unaware of….” Jen took a deep breath. “I think Pacey was really upset that you weren’t there.”

“I know all this. Pacey and I have already talked about it. All is forgiven.”

“He told me you were out with the guy you met at college.”

“Yeah. A.J.”

“And?”

Joey set the list down on top of the cart. “Okay, whatever it is, Jen? Could you just say it so we can move on?”

“It’s not my place.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“But…the whole me and Pacey thing?”

“You mean casual sex at Capeside?”

“Anyway,” with a quick glare, Jen picked up the list and kept walking. “I think it was Pacey’s try at denial.”

“And what, pray tell, was he trying to deny?”

“Hey gang.” Dawson threw a casual arm around Joey’s shoulders. “What great mysteries of life are we discussing?”

“What? Do we all hang at the grocery store now?" She managed a smile, despite feeling cornered. "My plans for the evening.” Joey took the list back from Jen. “There’s the fabulous afternoon of shopping for the B&B, then I may go a little wacky and attend Pacey’s brava performance.”

Dawson looked down at the list. “You want company?”

“Nah.” Joey shrugged. “I owe it to Pacey.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, catching Jen’s eye. “Yeah.”

Jen nodded her approval and placed and item in the cart. “Pacey’s quite the showman.”

“Not as dramatic as your pal Henry.” Dawson gave Jen a quick hug. “He was sort of a show stopper himself.”

“Ugh.” Jen shook her head. “He’s so sweet.” A soft blush lit her cheeks. “Too sweet.”

“I think he’s good for you.” Dawson grabbed some grapes and handed them to Joey. “You need a little sweetness.”

“Oh Jen!” Joey took the grapes and smiled. “Dawson Leery, ruling nice guy of Capeside has dubbed you worthy. What about me, Dawson?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “What do I deserve?”

“At this rate?” He touched his finger to the tip of her nose. “Not a ride home.”

Deep breaths.

That’s the only thing that’s going to get me through this.

I mean, I’m over the whole ‘doing it for Andie’ thing. That was last night.

I’m over the whole performance anxiety. From the day I knew I was going to get Tamara Jacobs in bed, that has never been a Pacey Witter issue.

I’m scared to death because tonight, in some strange way, tonight is for her.

Joey.

Tonight, every line and quip, every witty banter and clever repartee is proof that she helped me do this. Proof that watching her and being around her has made me just as stupidly in love as the characters in this play.

And I’m afraid it’s going to show. I’m afraid she’s going to see me and know that I could quite happily spend the next week or so just watching her sleep.

She’s gorgeous in her sleep.

She’s gorgeous. Period.

And I’m Capeside’s answer to the village idiot.

Could I be any stupider?

Pacey glanced through the small part at the edge of the curtain then leaned against the backstage wall with a soft, sad sigh. The auditorium was filling up quickly, but he didn’t see her.

“You ready to impress the hordes of Witter fans out there?” Andie smiled at Pacey. “Or at least one particular fan?”

“What?” He shook his head, snapping out of his reverie. “What do you mean?”

Smiling slyly, Andie leaned against the wall next to him. “Pacey, how well would you say that I know you?”

“Too well for my own good?” he suggested.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “That’s about right.” Reaching over, Andie took Pacey’s hand. “It’s obvious to me that your heart…”

“Five minutes till curtain.” One of the stagehands walked by and reminded them.

“Pacey, when we were together, you were wonderful, and I knew you…you loved me. But for a long time, Pacey? I’ve also know that a piece of your heart has always belonged to someone else.”

“That’s not true,” he started.

“And,” Andie pushed away from the wall and nodded toward the audience. “She just showed up.”

Okay, so everyone seems to think they know what’s going on in my head, not to mention in Pacey’s. But I’ve realized that falling for Pacey is a ridiculous thing to do.

So I’m not going to do it.

And it means absolutely nothing that I changed my outfit five times.

Although something tells me that no one else would believe it. Maybe it was the knowing smile on Bessie’s face when I finally stepped out of my bedroom wearing one of her old dresses and refused to explain why my clothes weren’t good enough for a night in the Capeside High School auditorium.

Or maybe it was the way Bodie looked at me before hugging me, as though his little girl was about to become a woman.

Or maybe it’s the fact that my heart is pounding as I sit in my seat, staring up at the curtains.

Pacey’s back there, about to transform himself like he’s done so many times practicing in my living room. He’s about to become a sweet, suave, romantic man in love.

Which, frighteningly enough, I’m coming to realize might be exactly what I want him to be.

The curtain went down and applause filled the auditorium. As it opened again, the entire audience rose to their feet.

Pacey felt the heat rising in his face as he stood there, soaking up the adulation. He’d been perfect tonight, better even than the night before. He’d been his best. All for her.

He hadn’t sought her out, knowing that if he saw her, he’d lose himself in her eyes.

But now, play over, he could let it happen. He could find her, look into her eyes and…

The empty seat was like a punch in the stomach. His heart seemed to constrict in his chest as his mind began to process the fact that she was gone.

She was gone.

Stepping back as the curtains closed, Pacey stormed off the stage. All he wanted, the only thing he wanted, was a very stiff drink.

“God damn…”

“Hey Pacey.”

The soft voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned slightly, “Hey.”

Joey shifted nervously, rubbing the palms of her hands along her thighs. “I wanted to beat the crowds of admiring fans.”

Turning to face her fully, Pacey took a step closer. The adrenaline that had disappeared at the sight of her empty chair seemed to flood over him again. “I thought I might have scared you off.”

“Your acting’s not that bad.” Joey smiled softly, her eyes glowing in the dim light. “I would actually go so far as to say you were pretty great.”

“Praise from my harshest critic?” He raised an eyebrow. “Did Hell freeze over?”

Grinning impishly, Joey straightened. “Maybe. Should we go see if any pigs are flying by?”

My heart stopped. Heaving her voice, seeing her in the soft light backstage had sent shivers along my spine.

Then she’d smiled and it wasn’t just the adrenaline that rushed through my veins.

She looked absolutely beautiful, like some fictional goddess in the half light.

But now, walking out of the auditorium? She makes my knees weak. It rained during the play, apparently, and the streetlight dances on the wet pavement, but it’s got nothing on the starlight in her hair and…what the hell am I thinking?

Looking at her, I want to pull her into my arms and hold her, kiss her breathless. I also want to wax poetic enough to put friend Dawson to shame.

She’s staring up at the stars now and I’m given an uninterrupted view of Joey, completely unawares. I don’t often allow myself to look, most especially not to look and imagine. I get enough pain in my life without giving into masochistic tendencies.

But now, she’s standing there, head tilted back and I can’t help myself.

Her hair is hanging down her back, curling just slightly at the ends. It dances over the exposed bare skin, making my fingers ache to do the same. The straps of the dress are no thicker than the fake diamonds they’re made of, sparkling against her honeyed skin.

The dress is a deep, sleek blue and I can only imagine where she got it. It has a look about it, well worn, but not worn out. I figure it’s Bessie’s, borrowed for my big night. All I can do is notice how it looks like a second skin, conforming to the curves of Joey’s body like a glove.

The dress isn’t low cut; in fact, it’s pretty modest, although it lays just perfectly on her breasts to show a slight shadow between them. My eyes keep getting drawn there, wondering at all the mysteries she keeps so well hidden.

The skirt hits her about mid-thigh, swirling in the slight breeze, bringing my attention down to her long legs that seem to go on forever. They’re tanned a golden brown, curved and lush and gorgeous. Her whole body is sexy.

I let my gaze travel up her once again, memorizing her for future reference. I know I should say something soon before she turns to look at me and berates me for staring at her like some cheap piece of meat, but I can’t just yet. I still need to see…

Her eyes. They’re so deep and liquid; it’s like looking into a whirlpool. I can feel myself getting pulled under, lost in trying to figure her out. How could something at plain and simple as eyes hold so many hurts and disappointments? How could simple, hazel – almost golden - eyes be filled with such cynicism and yet so much hope and romance?

How am I ever supposed to look away?

“Well,” Joey turned to face Pacey, surprised at the intense look on his face. “I’ve yet to see an airborne farm animal.”

Shaking his head, Pacey’s eyes lost their heated look and he stared up at the sky himself. “Sure? I mean, there’s got to be a reason you’re being nice…”

“Hey!” Joey swatted his arm then hooked her own through his. “I’ll have you know that, on occasion, I can be very nice. Even to the likes of you.”

“Well, color me swept off my feet.” Pacey looked down at her; his eyes alight with mischief. “So, Miss Potter, now that you’re in the company of Capeside’s leading man, what would you like to do tonight?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, her soft hair brushing his shoulder. “This is me making up for missing your big night. What we do is up to you.”

Swallowing hard, Pacey stared straight ahead. His heart was pounding in his chest, wondering how she’d react if she knew how he really wanted to respond. “Well, we could…movie it?”

“Bo-yawn-ring.” Joey grinned. “Come on, Pace. It’s a Saturday night, we’re young, we’re wild, we’re free.”

“We’re also apparently getting close to being a cheesy pop song anthem.”

“Okay, well, what about…” Grinning as she looked up at him, Joey shook her head. “I’ve got the perfect thing.”

“Why am I suddenly very, very afraid?”

“Because all evidence to the contrary? You’re very, very smart.”

I snapped my seatbelt, my heart pounding.

I couldn’t help but watch him as he walked around the truck to climb in after shutting the door behind me. He looked so good, dressed in the same suit he’d worn the night before. A twinge of sadness hit me. I’d had fun with A.J., enjoyed watching the Northern Lights with Dawson. But more than anything, I wish I could take it all back and be there for Pacey.

Although, if I did that, I wouldn’t be here right now, alone in his truck with him, about to suggest we do something seriously crazy.

He starts driving, not sure of where I want to go, but all I’ll tell him is that he has to hit the highway.

Something inside me is swimming. The butterflies that have been with me since my numerous outfit changes are ganging up and waging a serious turf war in my stomach. Because watching that play? Seeing Pacey that way? Knowing, deep down inside, that this is the real Pacey?

I realized that if I wasn’t fooling anyone, even myself.

I was head over heels in love with Pacey Witter.

I was aching all over, trembling at the thought of kissing him. I was…the look in his eyes when we were standing outside was like a rush of heat all through me. Never before, not with Dawson, not with Jack, not with anyone have I ever felt as though my stomach had bottomed out.

I had stood there, heat coiled in my non-existent stomach, slipping lower, spiraling down until my whole body was on fire. The only thought in my head was to press my body against his, pull his head down to mine and kiss him until neither one of us could stand.

Instead, I’d come up with an even stupider plan.

But I couldn’t wait to see how it was going to end.

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

“Joey, I hate to tell you this, but we’re nowhere near Boston. We’re not close to the Metropolitan dance club. We’re about as likely to find a place to show off our lack of waltzing skills as we are to find the Eiffel Tower. Honey, we’re dead lost.”

“We are not.” She grabbed the map she’d found in the glove compartment and showed it to him. “See? Boston?”

“Joey.” Pacey pulled over to the side of the road and let the engine idle. Grabbing the map, he flipped it around correctly. “See?” Pointing to the now much father distant Boston, he sighed. “Boston.”

“Oh.”

“How come you can be so smart but can’t navigate a map, much less read a highway sign, to save your life?” His voice was tight, annoyance warring with the promise of what she’d tried to do for them. “Now we’re God only knows where, miles from the freeway, miles from civilization and we’re going to…” He stopped as the engine died. “Shit.”

“We’re going to?”

“Run out of gas.” Pacey turned the key in the lock, hoping against hope that the car would start. When it didn’t, he dropped his head onto the steering wheel. “This is out of some bad horror film, isn’t it?”

“A bad Dawson Leery horror film,” Joey agreed.

“At least I can rest easily knowing that I’ll be dead long before it’s over.”

“Actually,” Joey sighed. “It’s always the nubile young woman who, in a fit of unexpected passion, loses her virginity before succumbing to the knife wielding, mask wearing psycho.”

“Right.” Closing his eyes for a moment, Pacey leaned back. “All right. So, what do we do? Stay in the truck all night? Look around for someone or some farmhouse nearby? Let you run screaming through the woods until we find some weird little stick figures?”

“I always knew there was a psycho in you waiting to get out,” Joey tossed the map down onto the seat. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s anything around here?”

“You could wait while I went to look.”

“And if you can’t find your way back?” Joey shook her head. “Nope. It’s the two musketeers, I’m afraid.”

“You’re going to go traipsing around the woods in that?” Pacey looked incredulous. “Joey, you’re wearing a short skirt and heels. You’re more of a liability than an asset.”

“Maybe so,” she glared at him. “But at least with me around, the psycho would have something worth chasing.”

Okay, so she was sweet. She’d wanted to take me out somewhere special, help me celebrate my big night. And now we’re wading through brush as high as my knees, moving through some sort of forest, hoping against hope that we’ll find something.

What, I don’t know.

We should have just stayed in the truck. We would have been safe, semi-warm and getting on each other’s nerves like crazy.

It’s close to happening out here in the wilderness as well, I can only imagine what it would be like in an enclosed space.

I’m trying to keep my comments to myself, afraid that she’ll storm off, end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I’d have to spend the rest of my life running from Dawson Leery. Of course, if he knew I’d almost ended up in Boston, most likely spending the night, with his precious Joey, I’d have been running anyway.

I have to give her credit though. Joey’s tough. She’s sticking right behind me, never complaining about the wet and the dark. I know she’s got to be freezing in that skimpy little dress.

The dress she wore for me.

Sighing, I stop walking and roll my neck. We’ve been out here for hours now; it’s nearly two in the morning. I hear her stop just short of me, her teeth chattering in the night. I slip off my jacket and walk around behind her, placing it over her shoulders.

She doesn’t say anything, just accepts it, which is more than I expected. I figured she’d get pissed, thinking that I didn’t think she could hack it and throw it back in my face.

Turning her to face me, I can see why she didn’t. She’s shaking and her skin is as cold as ice. Her face is white except for the tip of her nose. Tears spring into my eyes as I realize that my stubbornness has probably been the reason she hasn’t said a word until now.

So much for that romance award I was hoping for.

“Jo, you’re freezing.” Pacey slipped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Pacey? I’m so tired.”

He nodded. “I know, honey.” Keeping one arm around her, he closed his eyes. “I guess we go back to the truck. It’s not much, but it’s warmer than out here. Or,” he grinned down at her. “We could go right over to that cabin over there.”

She turned quickly, crying out as her cold, deadened limbs refused to comply. She would have tumbled to the ground if he hadn’t caught her quickly.

“Hey now, none of that. I can only take so much damsel in distress.” He helped her turn and walk over to the small log cabin. “You ready to face our serial killer?”

She nodded, tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry I got us into this, Pacey. I just wanted to do something…different.”

“You succeeded.” He mussed her hair to let her know he was joking. Reaching the cabin, he tried the handle. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any lock picking skills?”

“Criminal behavior isn’t inherited, you know.”

He grinned. “That’s the Josephine Potter I know and am afraid of.” He slammed into he door with all of his might, surprised when it actually sprang open. “Huh. Don’t know my own strength.”

Joey opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as she felt herself falling. Pacey, turning from his triumph, noticed her just before she hit the ground. With speed he didn’t know he possessed, he caught her and lifted her slight figure up into his arms.

“I’ll carry you over the threshold, Potter, but I ain’t gonna marry ya, no matter what shotgun yer pappy brings.”

A ghost of a smile crossed over her face, “I’ll remember that when you’re looking down the wrong end of a at 12 gauge.”

“Who’s going to be on the right end, Joey? Dawson?”

He set her down near the fireplace and went back to shut the door. Glad he’d thought to grab some matches from the truck, he dug in the box near the hearth and found some wood. She watched him through half closed lids, focusing on his hands. “He would try and protect me. Probably thinks that you would do your level best to corrupt me.”

“I try. So far, you seem fairly resistant to my charms.” Pacey sat back in satisfaction as flames sprang to life. The light illuminated some of the cabin and he sighed. “Well, it’s no palace. One room shack is actually kind of generous.”

“Blankets?”

He turned back to her, realizing that she was still close to freezing. “I don’t see any. I can go look?”

“No. Please? Stay here?”

He nodded. Moving closer to her, he helped her lean back against the wall. “We’ve got to get you warm though.”

“The fire…soon…” She was starting to drift. “Help me wake up, Pacey.”

“Right. Witter alarm clock, at your service.” He kicked off his own wet shoes and sat at her feet. The beautiful skin he’d admired earlier was scratched and scraped, puffy and red. “Oh Joey, I’m sorry.” He eased the heels off of her feet and took her right foot in his hands.

Joey’s whole body tensed as his hands covered her foot, rubbing gently at the abused flesh. As his warm hands moved over her cold skin, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. She could feel the heat start to seep over her, caressing her as gently as he was.

Pacey moved closer, running his hands up and down the length of her calves, trying to warm her. She was huddled in his jacket, her head thrown back, her eyes closed. As the heat began to make its way into her skin, he began massaging the smooth, muscular flesh, careful of the scratches the weeds had caused. Closing his eyes, he kept his hands moving.

Joey felt the heat slowly suffusing into her limbs and sighed in relief. Tears of pain clung to her lashes as feeling began to tingle, then surge through her legs.

She opened her eyes, watching Pacey in the firelight. His lips were pressed tightly together in concentration and, as he opened his eyes, his entire being seemed focused on getting her circulation moving once again.

His gaze moved over her, not just clinically but with obvious interest. At the sight of him watching her so intently, a different sort of heat coursed through her. She made a soft sound and flexed her legs, moving them slightly apart.

Pacey moved carefully between her legs, his hands easing over her knees. His fingers splayed across her thighs, moving tentatively over her now warm skin.

Joey moaned quietly, moving against his hands. Pacey’s eyes widened and he looked up quickly. Her eyes were closed once again and she was biting her lower lip. “Joey?” he whispered softly, letting his hands move a little higher, edging under the hem of her skirt.

He swallowed hard as she remained still, taking a deep breath as he let his thumbs move down to brush the inside of her thighs.

Joey shivered, moaning again. Her body reacted voluntarily, her legs spreading once more to accommodate him.

Inching forward, Pacey couldn’t look away as Joey opened her eyes. Licking his lips unconsciously, he let one hand move higher, brushing his fingers over the soft cotton over her panties.

Joey flinched as he touched her, her eyes widening. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath, her hips arching up off the floor, her body asking for what she could not.

Continuing to rub the inside of her thigh with his left hand, Pacey traced the elastic with one finger of his right before slipping it under the material.

Joey’s legs tensed against his as his finger brushed the sensitive skin there. Pacey froze, swallowing hard.

They sat still, neither moving, both afraid to move. Finally, Joey inhaled sharply and moved her legs, sliding them over the back of Pacey’s calves, holding him where he was.

“Oh…God,” Pacey breathed. Leaning forward, he pressed his palm to the wall next to her head as the fingers of his other hand danced over the delicate skin once more. Joey thrust up, aching for more.

Breathing hard, Pacey let his fingers glide inside her, overwhelmed by the sense of discovery and wonder. Closing her eyes, Joey pressed her head back against the wall. Shivering from something far stronger than the cold, she turned her head, kissing Pacey’s hand.

He leaned in, his breath coming in soft pants. As his lips brushed the side of her neck, his thumb brushed over her trembling nerve center as his fingers continued moving inside her.

Joey’s legs tightened on his, pulling him closer. Pacey found himself shivering as she looked back at him, her hazel eyes dark with pleasure.

His whole body trembling, Pacey leaned forward and licked Joey’s lips. Her soft gasp parted them and he kissed her, his tongue imitating his fingers. Joey’s body arched up, pressing against his as her hand wound its way into his hair. He felt her low moan as her body shook, clenching and contracting around him.

Pacey broke off the kiss, leaving them both breathless. He continued moving his hand until she shivered again, closed her eyes and cried out his name.

I can’t remember how to breathe. I’m sure I knew at some point, but all I can do, all I know how to do right now, is stare at Pacey.

Pacey.

I reach out and touch his cheek, my hand still trembling. His eyes are wide, shell-shocked. He looks the way I feel.

It’s almost funny. Pacey Witter, Capeside’s resident Casanova, looks as overwhelmed, as shaken, as I do by what happened.

What did happen?

His blue eyes are glowing in the firelight as he moves away from me. I flinch slightly as he moves his hand and I can see fear and doubt start to build in his eyes.

What just happened?

I don’t know. Just like I don’t know what to do to make the fear go away. So I do the only thing I can, the thing that comes naturally.

I reach out and take his hand.

Pacey stopped moving as Joey captured his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “I may be stating the obvious here, but I think I might be warm.”

“That’s good. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze questioning. “I have to admit to a serious case of nerves here, Potter. How long am I going to be waiting before you kick my ass?”

“Pacey?”

“Ye…yeah?” He hadn’t expected to feel this way. He hadn’t expected to ever touch her, much less be the first to do so. And he sure as hell had never expected her to let him, to like it. Of course, he’d never actually intended to fall in love with her either.

Joey looked over at the fire briefly, wondering at the emotion in his eyes when she finally met them. “I’m getting sleepy. I don’t suppose you’d be up for lying down?”

“At this point Josephine, I can safely say being up for anything is most definitely not a problem.”

She let go of his hand and moved closer to the hearth and lay down next to it. Feeling more unsure than she ever had before, she looked over at the main source of irritation in her life. “I was wrong.”

“I knew it,” Pacey muttered under his breath, berating himself mentally for even daring to hope.

“I’m not quite warm yet.”

“Jo?” The small fire in the fireplace wasn’t nearly strong enough to cause the sort of heat that was rising inside him, growing stronger by the minute. “You’re killin’ me here.”

She turned her back to the fire and stared at him with eyes hotter than the dancing flames. “Then come here.”

I’ve either slipped into an alternate reality or I’m suffering from delusions brought on by severe hypothermia, because I know absolutely none of this is real.

Joey Potter would never, in a million lifetimes, have let me do what I just did.

And she certainly would never lie beside a fire and gaze at me with come-hither eyes.

And she sure as hell wouldn’t be asking me to warm her up by the fire.

I’m beginning to realize that Dawson’s got nothin’ on me when it comes to flights of imagination.

Of course, on the off chance this is real, I’d better do what she asks.

I move over to her and stretch out beside her, feeling more nervous than I ever have – even my first time with Tamara. Propping myself up on my elbow, I watch as she stares at me. I don’t know what I was thinking and I don’t know what to think now, but I look over at her and smile.

If this is a dream, I’m going to enjoy it as long as I possibly can.

“Lie down?”

Pacey’s breath caught at her words, even as he did as she asked. Smiling, Joey moved into his arms, using his chest as a pillow. He wrapped his arms around her slowly, giving her every possible opportunity to escape.

She snuggled closer. “Goodnight Pacey.”

“Night Jo.”

They lay there in silence, neither speaking – both too unsure of what to say until finally, as the sun began to rise, they both fell asleep.

I’m not sorry it happened. That’s, by far, the most surprising thing to me. I mean, even though all my life I dreamed that if anyone would do anything like that to me it would be Dawson, I’m not ever going to regret that it was Pacey.

No, not sorry. But I’m still not quite sure I believe it, and I sure as hell don’t know what to make of it.

Raising myself up on one elbow, I watch him sleep. It’s funny. I’ve spent more than my share of nights with both him and Dawson, but I’ve never once just watched Pacey, not like this.

His feet are clad in thin dress socks and, for the first time, I wonder if his feet and legs were as cold as mine. The bottom half of his slacks are stained and wrinkled and one pant leg is pushed up around his knee, giving me a glimpse of his tanned calf, the golden skin sprinkled liberally with dark hair.

It makes me think of summer, running around in shorts and bathing suits. Which makes me think of the last time we went swimming.

Pacey had stood there, blocking the sun from my eyes as he stripped off his shirt before heading down to the water. And, even as friendship impaired as we’d been, I’m still human, most definitely still a woman, and Pacey Witter –body wise – is one fine male specimen.

Blushing at the memory, I force my eyes higher, getting redder as I reach his waist. Seeing the taut lines of his pants brings the night before back in a rush and I realize exactly what Pacey did for me.

And didn’t ask me to do for him.

I move my eyes to his chest and just watch him breathe, letting the implications set in. My right hand rests on his stomach, moving with every breath.

Finally, I focus on his face. The long dark lashes lay against his cheek, fluttering slightly in sleep and his soft, dark hair is mussed from where my hands had worked through it in the throes of passion.

His lips, full and gentle, even as his mouth had been demanding on mine. I move my hand up and touch them softly, for just a moment. Pretty soon, he’ll open those gorgeous blue eyes and look at me.

When he does, he’ll be expecting either Joey Potter, newfound love of his life; or Joey Potter, queen bitch of Capeside.

And I’m scared, because I’m not sure which one I should be…or even which one I want to be.

Pacey didn’t open his eyes as he awoke, instead lying there enjoying the feel of Joey in his arms. He knew, if he opened them, he’d have to face her and the day and what had happened between them. If he looked at her, he’d have to deal with the fact that he, with every honorable intention, had taken something from her without honestly asking her permission.

He’d taken advantage.

Sighing, knowing that he couldn’t stall forever, he opened his eyes, blinking in the sunlight. “Hey Potter.”

She lifted her head off his chest and looked back at him, blushing softly. A surge of emotion ran through him as she sat up fully, leaving her hand resting on his chest. “Hey Pacey.”

“Any side effects from the cold?”

She shook her head, her eyes smiling. “Nope. Both legs seemed to work fine when I got up earlier. I wasn’t too worried though, I made sure that, if I fell, I’d land on you.”

“Breaking your fall?”

She nodded and her expression changed, grew darker. “Something like that.”

“I’m glad you’re…okay.”

“Am I though, Pacey?”

“What do you mean?”

She moved away from him and stared into the dead fire. “Not me, I guess. Us. What happened here? What did it mean, what do we do? What do…?”

He put a hand on her shoulder, quieting her. “Joey, don’t do a Dawson level analysis here, okay? There’s something here,” he gestured between the two of them. “I don’t know what it is, I don’t know what it means, but we don’t have to figure it out right now. In fact, figuring it out right now is probably the worst thing we can do.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s an emotional thing. I couldn’t think straight for about a week after my first…anything. I was confused, conflicted, hurt, unsure, and I felt like the most powerful guy on earth at the same time. You’re going through a lot of emotions right now and I want to be there to help, but I think trying to decide what it means to both of us, right now, together is just…a horror show worse than the one in the woods.”

She nodded. “I do feel a little…unsure.”

“Well, you’re a hell of a lot better put together mentally than I was when…”

“I know last night wasn’t a first for you, Pacey. You don’t have to act like…”

“Joey?” He stroked her hair and moved closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Even though it wasn’t your first time, it was a first time. And it was a first for me. It was my first time with you.”

“Keep up the sweet talk Witter, and it might not be your last.” She turned slightly to smile at him, surprised when her lips brushed his cheek. He grinned at her in response.

“I can only hope.” Moving away, he stood up and held out his hand. “Now, shall I get you home before the cavalry comes looking for us?”

“Can you hear him now? Both of us dirty and disheveled, and I don’t imagine I smell all that pleasant.”

Pacey opened the door for her as she slipped her shoes back on. “I don’t know, Jo. I kind of like the way you smell.”

“Well, you’re a pervert.”

“You know, if I’m going to give you space while you figure this out, you’re gonna have to stop talkin’ dirty to me.”

“In your dreams, Pacey.”

He took her hand as they started back toward the truck. “Didn’t I prove that to you last night?”