Taking place after Season Finale

Joey's eyes were closed tightly as the kiss ended. She could taste Dawson's lips, as if they were still covering her own. Upon opening her eyes, she found him staring at her with a look of half wondering, half amusement. His eyebrows were lifted and his eyes wide, shining faintly in the golden light. His mouth had an impish twist to it, lips curving upwards at the corners. Joey fought the inane urge to giggle and flashed a brief, shaky smile. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped back about a foot, still watching the boy in front of her.

Dawson stepped forward as she moved away and caught her hands in one of his, reaching up to gently stroke her cheek. Her dark eyes were glistening, her long lashes quivering ever so slightly. Bending his head down, he kissed her again, a kiss full of softness and love. Joey gasped, holding his face between her palms. She responded to the gentle urging and pressed her lips against his, kissing him back. Dawson’s arms were around her and she was safe and warm in his embrace.



When she woke up on the couch Monday morning, she hesitated before opening her eyes, trying to prolong the inevitable truth that she would have to get up and go to school, never finishing the dream she was in the middle of. She hadn't seen Dawson at all the day before. She'd left the IceHouse at an unreasonable hour and had gone right home, and right to sleep. Joey had worked all day and had been quite surprised when he hadn't shown up to talk as was the normal routine.

But that's all right, she thought. She was snuggled deep into arms clad in a thick sweater. Light curls were falling over her face as another bent down to kiss her eyelids. As she breathed his name, there came a far off call, volume increasing every second it was drawn out.

"Joooeey." Her blissful mood suddenly shattered, Joey opened her eyes, throwing off blankets and struggling to sit up. A sudden whimper escaped her lips as she stretched her arms over her head. In that moment, all she could think was pain. It ran from the middle of her back and spread upwards to her shoulders, continuing down her arms until it got to her elbows, where it ceased.

Groaning loudly, she fell back against the couch, wincing at the harsh contact. Saturday night, after she'd left Dawson's, she'd rowed furiously over the creek until she’d reached her own dock. Joey hadn't been quite sure why she'd been so anxious to get home. In her own mind it was completely unfathomable.

The boy blinked his eyes several times, trying to rid himself of the cloud of sleepiness hanging over him. The guy in the front of the room was covering the board with scribbles, a garbled attempt to teach algebra. Pacey glanced out the window, noting the water droplets sliding down the glass, leaving clear wet trails behind them. Through the liquid spiderweb, a shape caught his eye. He leaned his head on his hand, ignoring the instructor and watched the blur as it came closer. The hazy figure soon morphed into a human shape, every second adding another feature, a pair of dark blue jeans covering a pair of long, slim legs, a faint shadow becoming a head of dark hair, golden skin turned pale by the heavy mood of the rain.

Unwillingly, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a twisted-sort of smile. Locks of her hair were clinging to her neck and face, and her jacket's color had deepened, turning it from a bright scarlet to a deep crimson. Pacey almost laughed out loud, and then, after she walked through the doorway, laid his head down on his desk and closed his eyes.


~~*~***~*~~


Joey stepped outside and perched on the top step of the staircase leading to the front doors of the high school. It was 4:30 and most of the students had left over an hour ago. The halls were silent, and the parking lot was almost completely empty. Frowning, she unzipped her backpack and searched for her radio and headphones. She'd found it easier and quicker to walk to the Ice House when she had music to listen to. Exasperated, she finally knelt and dumped her bag over, spilling its contents onto the cold stone.

It had been a truly awful day. Her shoulders still ached from the strain she'd put on them days before. She'd rowed over to Dawson's dock to pick him up so they could walk to school together. Unfortunately, she'd hung around at his house so long that she'd had to run through the rain to get to school. When she got there, she was 15 minutes late and had to go to the principal's office to receive a tardy slip. Even more unfortunately, that slip had been a pink truant slip because she couldn't present an excuse note. After that, things had gone even worse throughout the day. She'd failed a Spanish quiz, which is why she'd had to stay after school; to retake it. Right after first hour, when her hair and clothes were still damp, Pacey had run by her locker, yelled "Drowned rat!" at her and then disappeared into the crowd before she could murder him. Due to some mystical, magical, negative force she'd been placed in a study group with Pacey. She'd forgotten to do her Trig homework the night before due to her exhaustion and apparantly, she'd now left her headphones in her locker.

A permanent frown was frozen on her face and she slung her bag over her shoulder and stalked down the hallway, intent on giving her locker a severe kicking when she reached it. As she swung around the first corner, Joey felt contact and then the sting of pain as her forehead connected with another. Her eyes filled with water as an arm went around her waist to steady her. Keeping her head down, she heard a low, familiar voice ask her if she was alright. She nodded, not trusting her voice and then stooped to her knee to gather the books Pacey had dropped.

She stacked a few books, muttering apologies and then stood up, blinking rapidly to dispell the tears that were rapidly accumulating. As Pacey got to his feet, she swiped at her eyes, trying to dry them before he noticed her vulnerability. She wasn't quick enough.

"Jo, are you alright?" He sounded genuinely concerned, but Joey wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Yeah, Pacey, I'm just peachy." He reached out and grabbed her wrist, not harshly, but gently, delicately.

"I think we both know that's not true."

"God, what does it look like? Of course I'm not alright. Even an idiot can see that." Her teeth tugged nervously at her lip as his eyes narrowed, his gaze hardening. Sighing loudly, she tried to walk by him, but stopped when his hand grabbed her arm tightly above her elbow, not hurting, but preventing her from going anywhere. He spoke, in a tightly controlled voice.

"What's going on Josephine?" She looked at him, trying to hide her annoyance.

"Nothing. I've just had a terrible day, and I'd like you to let go of my arm, if that's not to hard for your brain to understand."

"Wow, are we on Bitch Mode today?" This time she glared and wrenched her arm out of his grasp. As she made her way down the dark hallway, her knees trembling, she heard his amused voice.

"Hopefully, your PMS will clearup by tomorrow. Wouldn't want to have to work with someone who was less than cheerful!"

Not knowing he was still gazing after her, she stamped her foot and groaned. Impish laughter followed her out the door.