Classification: P/J

Story Synopsis: When Joey returns from her trip away, she starts acting more than slightly strangely. Is she merely outgrowing Capeside and all the friends it holds for her, or is her weird behavior down to something else?

Pacey sighed and began gathering together the multitude of papers which were spread across his bed. It was obvious his History essay wasn’t going to get done, tonight at least. A quick glance at his clock told him it was late. If he didn’t go to sleep soon, he’d be a zombie at school the next day. Stretching out on his bed, he leaned over to flip the main light off, leaving the room relatively dark, lit only by two dim lamps. He was just preparing to go into the bathroom when he heard it: the sound of a soft curse outside his window, as if someone had stubbed their toe. This was followed by a muted footfall and a rustle of curtains.

Pacey froze, hastily calculating whether he was strong enough to take the shadowy figure who was clambering through his window. He was about to make a lunge for them when the intruder stepped into the light, revealing herself.

“And here was I thinking it was just Dawson’s window you had a thing for,” he exclaimed, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart “You know, normal people tend to use the door.”

Joey didn’t reply, she just smiled -- a secretive, almost sly smile that Pacey found vastly unsettling.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked coyly.

Pacey hesitated and Joey seemed to take this hesitation as a no. Pausing to turn on his stereo, she took a seat next to him on the bed. A low, bluesy song Pacey recognised but couldn’t quite place began to play, filling the room with it’s sweet, soulful vibe. He gulped, acutely aware of how close she was.

“What are you doing here, Joey?” he demanded, struggling to keep his voice even.

She shrugged, still smiling the flirtatious smile Pacey didn’t quite trust.

“What would you like me to be doing here, Pacey?” she replied with a suggestiveness which unnerved him.

“I think you should go,” he told her with more conviction than he was feeling.

“Are you sure?” she murmured, bringing her lips close to his ear. Her hot breath on the back of his neck caused a shiver of excitement to chase up his spine “Are you sure you want me to leave?”

Pacey tried to pull away, but Joey’s arm encircled his waist. Her cool fingers slipped under his T-shirt, stroking the smooth skin off his stomach, eliciting an involuntary shudder from him.

“Do you remember the day we went looking for snails, Pacey?” she whispered “You wanted me then and the question is, do you still want me?”

She pulled back slightly and immediately Pacey missed her presence. Seeing the look of longing on his face, which was impossible to suppress, she laughed, a tinkling, provocative laugh.

“I think you do want me,” she said, and suddenly she was back. Her thigh pressing against his, her face just inches away “I think you always have.”

Pacey’s mind was racing. Why was she doing this? Why was she causing all the feelings he’d tried so hard to quash to surface once more?

Joey’s kisses were forceful and passionate, leaving Pacey breathless. Her touch was puissant as she lowered him down onto the bed. In one swift movement she had straddled him and begun trailing kisses down his neck. It was obvious what she wanted to happen and Pacey was obliging, his trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. Looking up into her eyes he saw a sultry, blazing intensity.

Something was wrong, Pacey realised suddenly. Not just something; everything about this was wrong. The gaze he met was not Joey’s -- not the Joey he knew, anyway. Joey wouldn’t do this. Pushing her gently off him, he stood up shakily. As much as his body screamed otherwise, he knew he had to say no.

“What are you doing?” her voice was raw and held an edge of irritation.

“I think you should go home, Joey,” he replied firmly.

“Joey’s face transformed instantly. Her lip curled in disgust and her eyes blazed, this time with hurt, anger and mortification.

“Oh, so now you don’t want it?” she cried maliciously, struggling to do up the buttons he’d done such a good job of undoing just moments before.

“You know I do, you know I want you,” he said sadly “and that’s why you came here tonight. Some part of your fucked up brain wanted to lead me on -- and you certainly succeeded on that count. What I want to know, though, is: why? Something’s going on with you, Joey and when you’re ready to tell someone about it, I’ll be there for you. Until then, I think you should go.”