Author's note: I can never resist one, can I? This is a Pacey/Jen romance, because I got kinda intrigued at the thought of these two. Also, I actually like Jen more than Joey, and this is my story, dig? I don't think Joey really deserves the kind of triangle fanfic where both Dawson and Pacey are willing to let her dangle them both for as long as she wants and take her unquestioningly when she chooses. The only Pacey/Jens I have ever read happen when D/J writers shove the two together with all the subtlety of a Mack truck to make it all happy families, the way P/J writers sometimes do with Dawson and Andie. Immensely unrealistically. As for what happens with Dawson and Joey (in a SUBplot)? You'll just have to see.

Of course, that was a lie, thought Jen Lindley to herself. Of course there'd been a warning. She'd seen how he looked at Joey at the Miss Windjammer pageant - like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his fifteen mundane years of existence. Like he'd been living in a world of Ugly Sisters, and had suddenly seen his Cinderella. Like the scales had fallen from his eyes. She snickered. Or more likely his brain.

The way no-one had ever really looked at her. She remembered getting out of the taxi; Dawson and Pacey blatantly ogling; Pacey practically drooling. But that's all it had been on Dawson's part. A physical infatuation; for all she'd thought he was special, he was just like all the rest. Sure, guys thought she was pretty and sexy. And where did that get her? Lewd jokes. Crude passes. Beeping horns and wolf-whistles. Clumsy groping and rough, drunken sex.

Dawson had looked at Joey like she was beautiful, soft and precious. Like no-one else would ever compare to her in his eyes; like he could drown in her and still not have enough of her. Like she was worth giving up anything for. Certainly worth giving up Jen Lindley.

She had to stop this train of thought. It was getting her nowhere at the speed of a speeding express..... train. Or maybe right back to Self Pity City. She snickered again. At least I'm still able to laugh at myself. For all the good it does me.

Drawing the shades on the disturbing vision of Dawson Leery and Joey Potter's shadows in the embrace she'd known, in the back of her mind, was inevitable ever since she'd seen the way they were around each other, she collapsed bonelessly onto her bed, and didn't cry. Didn't cry like she'd expected to, like she'd cried earlier in the church. Didn't cry like she knew she should cry, for her own good. Dawson would tell her that the bottling up of emotions would only cause them to multiply until the barrier broke and unleashed a tsunami of Spielberg-worthy proportion. Or something. Maybe he'd tell her that all the answers for dealing with her grief were to be found in E.T. Maybe he'd just start investigating Joey's lunch with his tongue. Jen didn't know.

Maybe I'm just on overload, she thought drowsily. Maybe I've just dealt with too much loss for one day. My grandfather and the guy I love. Dawson and Gramps. Gramps and Dawson. One and the same.

They were, in a way. The men she'd believed in, who'd made her feel like she could get beyond her past and start again. And there you go, she thought bitterly. One dies and the other might as well have.

Since sleep didn't seem to be showing its coy head any time soon, she stood up and walked back to the window, parting the shades. Might as well have your suspicions confirmed once again as your doubts delude you.

They were still there, of course. Kissing with a passion he'd never seemed to feel for her. Sighing, she shifted her eyes into the distance, hoping to see something - anything - less disturbing than Dawson finally in his best friend's arms, and caught sight of Pacey Witter, standing below Dawson's window and also looking up at the silhouettes, and wearing a smile that was half happiness and half sheer wistfulness. Relieved to find someone neutral and non-judgemental to talk to, she slipped her shoes on and ran down to open the door.

He didn't seem to be paying too much attention to his surroundings, in any case. She wasn't walking particularly quietly, and the late season chill had made the grass white-edged and crunchy, but his gaze didn't move from the shadows of his two best friends. Finally, trying not to startle him, she spoke up.

"Pacey?"

He jumped, lightly, and swung around, breathing out again when he recognized her. "God, you scared me," he muttered, slightly resentfully. He didn't show any urge to say any more than that, and simply stood, looking at her. Jen shifted uncomfortably, scrabbling through a limited repertoire of 'small talk to use to guys who aren't hitting on me', and finally lit on an old standby.

"Cold out here. Aren't you freezing your ass off standing underneath Spielberg Junior's window?" Okay, so she'd personalized a little. But, hey, she was talking about the weather. Nobody could take offense at that. She made a mental note to think of more casual conversation topics.

"Nope, just watching the projection show." He jerked his head to the shadows on the blinds without turning around, a certain amount of resentment clear even by his stance. "I didn't really notice the cold."

Jen was warmed a little; she could relate. At least she wasn't the only one who wasn't overflowing with joy like a happy little champagne flute at this not-so-unexpected turn of events. "So, you ain't thrilled either?"

He looked sad. "Well..... I always knew that Captain Clueless would grab that ship by the helm some day. I guess it was inevitable. I'm just not too sure that I wanted it to happen on this of all peachy days. You?"

She scuffed one shoe in the stiffened grass, studying the scratches on the toe. "I knew it too, I guess. I didn't really want it to happen today either. Of all peachy days."

"So what's up with you?" he asked, copying Jen's stance and drawing idle circles with his toe. Jen cleared her throat.

"My grandfather took that big ol' door marked Way Out," she said dryly. "He's at that big garden party in the sky already. Grams is bagging up his clothes."

"Jen?" he asked quietly. She felt his hand under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

She smiled weakly. "I guess I'm just overloaded right now," she admitted freely. It felt good to say her thoughts straight out without having to disguise them. "I don't feel sad, I don't feel happy. I feel like it's all going to set in tomorrow, but until then I have this void. How does that seventies song go? 'Comfortably Numb'?"

"I know what you mean," he said simply, then abruptly changed the subject, offering her his arm. "So what do you say we go and find somewhere in this godforsaken excuse for a town that serves decent coffee, and bemoan the misery of our existence together?"

Jen smiled, and linked her arm through his proffered one. A sympathetic ear from this genuinely nice guy to gripe about her unrequited love was more than she'd hoped for. Now, if Grams could only stay busy for long enough.

All of a sudden, Joey pulled back, breathing heavily and looking utterly shocked. Dawson opened his eyes, startled, and looked at Joey, who was staring at him with a look of deep suspicion.

"Why, Dawson? Why today and not a week ago, or a month ago?"

"What?" he asked, befuddled by the sudden switch. She didn't seem to have many doubts a few minutes before. Within seconds, he knew he'd made the wrong answer, as Joey's face tightened in her trademark slow burn.

"This is why I can't trust your feelings on this, Dawson. You can say that you really do care about me, that you kissed me because you wanted to, but you always have ulterior motives behind that innocent smile. You just don't want me to go to France, do you? You've finally picked up on my feelings for you and you've used that to manipulate me so that you get to keep your pet best friend. Well, it was nice knowing you. See you later. In a year or so, roughly."

"You're going to go?" he asked, horrified. "To France?"

Joey was already halfway through the window. "Yes. Say goodbye, Dawson, because you won't see me again any time soon. Possibly ever."

"Joey, wait! Joey!" Frustrated, Dawson ran his hands through his hair, and spoke to the still air in his silent bedroom.

"Why?"

"Truly? I don't know," answered Jen seriously, lowering her steaming coffee cup and regarding him over the rim. "He doesn't deserve it from me. He really doesn't deserve the love I have for him. I realize that now. He hasn't really treated me the way any girlfriend wants to be treated. Whenever he had to choose between me and Joey, he always went straight for her - except in dating. But only because he wasn't actually aware that she was a girl, who just happened to be madly in love with him." She stopped, and stirred her coffee, amazed at what had just come straight out with no censoring whatsoever. "I can't believe I just said that to a guy I don't even know that well!"

He shrugged, and treated her to a grin. "I'm going to consider that a compliment. Lord knows I could do with one," he added, his face falling a little, reminding Jen that they hadn't even talked about what was bothering him yet. One step at a time, she thought, since he still seemed a little reluctant to talk about himself.

"How'd we end up at the Icehouse for coffee anyway?" she asked, hoping to draw his thoughts away from whatever was depressing him. It seemed to work; he grinned broadly again, and took a sip from his own cup.

"Only place in town still open at this hour that's gonna serve us anything without ID." He signaled to Joey's sister, wiping the counter. "Two more, Bess."

"No, Pace, you can't do that," she protested. "I may be in love with a guy who happens to be in love with his best friend who also happens to love him back - " she drew breath - "but I'm still capable of paying for my own coffee."

"My rules," he replied firmly. "Anybody who's lost a relative today does not need to pay for coffee that she's ended up drinking at someone else's invitation." He smiled slightly. "Besides, Screen Play paid me today. After I spent half an hour convincing Nellie that it actually was Friday. Let me feel chivalrous for a couple of hours."

Jen couldn't help smiling back. "You are so sexist."

"And you just can't wait to take advantage, can you?" He drained his cup, and set it back in its saucer with a plastic chink. "Where were we?"

"The long, tortured saga of Joey, Jen and Dawson," she answered, likewise draining her own cup, and then wrapping her chilled hands around the fresh one as Bessie set it down. "When do we ever talk about anything else?"

"Make one hell of a soap opera, wouldn't we?" he asked, fixing his open gaze on her and waiting for her to go on.

"Yeah. I guess I should have known what I was in for. That was the main reason I tried for so long to be Joey's friend. I knew I was always going to come second to her, and so I wanted to be on her side rather than opposed to her. I knew I wouldn't be able to bear it when he inevitably ran to her side every time he had to make the choice. I mean, look at this afternoon. I'm in Dawson's bedroom with him when Joey comes to the window, and then runs away when she sees me kiss him on the cheek. And Dawson leaps up and takes off after her, even though I was the one who ran to him to be comforted. Every single time he has to choose which way to go, he runs after her."

"Speak of the devil," he muttered to her under his breath, as Dawson burst in, looking disheveled.

"Have you seen Joey?" he asked anxiously, running his hands through his hair in the way Jen found so appealing. Amazingly, she found her lips curling outwards, and quickly hid her smile by lifting her coffee cup again. Pacey was sniggering behind his hand.

"Uh, no, Dawson, she hasn't been here," she said quickly, fighting a losing battle to keep a straight face. "Maybe you should try her house."

"Okay. Thanks," he answered distractedly, turning for the door, unable to see the irony of what he'd just asked his ex-girlfriend, and completely ignoring Pacey, whose shoulders were shaking. Jen caught his eye, and they broke up laughing.

"Story of my life," she spluttered.

"So what are you going to do about him?" he prompted, trailing his spoon in the tail end of his third coffee. Jen wondered what it was about his honest gaze and his calm silence that prompted her to spill out all her thoughts and feelings. Good trick if you can do it, she thought.

"Right now I'd do anything. If he asked me to crawl and beg for him back, I'd do it if there was the smallest chance that he'd say yes. Utterly humiliating and degrading, but true. I mean, I told you that he doesn't deserve it, and I meant it, but that doesn't mean anything to my - what's the word that Dawson would use?"

"Hormones?" he supplied, grinning that grin that always instantly lightened the mood.

"I thought you were the one with enough of those for two," shot back Jen, glad she'd been around Joey long enough to learn the skill of quick, cutting replies. "Besides, I've already asked for him back, and he wasn't interested in the slightest," she continued, moving the conversation back onto track

"Really? Dawson didn't tell me that. When?"

"Right after the beauty pageant. I should've guessed he'd turn me down, though. I saw the way he looked at her that night. Like - he'd had a blind spot for so long where she'd been concerned, and suddenly total vision was restored. But enough about me and my pathetic love life. What were you doing underneath Dawson's window this evening anyway?"

"I came to ask Dawson how it went with everyone's favorite Princess of Chill. The answer was revealed to me before I ever got around to climbing the ladder. That's about all."

"Life sucks, huh?" Jen finished off another coffee. "Such a short while ago you tried with Joey, and of course she rejected you. And I tried with Dawson, and of course he rejected me. I guess we're not ones to stand in the way of destiny. "

"That's one way to look at it," he said meditatively. There was a comfortable, reflective silence

"God, I feel terrible now," said Jen suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. "From what I've gathered, you didn't have the best day either, and you've spent" - she checked her watch - "nearly two hours listening to me gripe about how much I love your best friend and watching me drink four coffees that you paid for without complaining once."

"Don't worry. I actually feel a lot better now," he replied, with another grin. "Listening to people with bigger problems always puts things in perspective. And I feel like we've really bonded. I didn't really get to know you that well before."

Jen nodded. "Yeah, me too," she added, surprising herself. "I just thought of you as Dawson's slightly obnoxious but cute and funny sidekick."

"And I just thought of you as Dawson's beautiful sophisticated girlfriend, who was unfortunately in for a letdown," he answered, and then frowned. "Did I really just say that?"

"Uh huh." Jen giggled. "Well, I guess everything's out in the open now. So what was bothering you today?"

"My dad and Doug were both getting on my case about my perennial failure status. But I don't really care much any more. I mean, at least I'm  not in love with Dawson." They laughed. "No offense intended."

"None taken." She paused. "Pacey, can I ask you something seriously?"

"Sure."

"Do you think I have any chance at all of getting him back?"

He hesitated. "Jen, I should probably say something reassuring about how there's always a chance, and anything could happen. But I frankly don't believe it. He loves Joey more than even he realizes, and it's something I don't think he'll ever totally get over."

Jen swallowed. "You're right. I always knew it deep down. Thank you for the honesty."

"Any time. Hey, we'd better go. Bess has been giving us the evil eye for the last ten minutes. I think she wants to close."

"Okay." She stood. "See you tomorrow?"

"I'll walk you home. No, really. I have a feeling D will need to talk anyway." He smiled, and linked arms with her again as they left the Icehouse. As they reached her house, she walked up her front steps, and turned to face him.

"Thanks. You really helped."

"No problem." He smiled. "Call me anytime if you want to talk."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Smiling, she stood on her front porch until she saw him disappear into Dawson's lighted window.