Pacey struggled with the door knob as he balanced his laundry basket, Joey's bag of clothes, and his news papers. It was hours after his confrontation with Joey and he was crossing his fingers that she wouldn't still be home. He finally managed to get the door open and dropped the laundry with a thump just inside the door. A quick scan of the living room showed that Joey was at least absent from there.

Momentarily satisfied, he carried the stack of news papers to the kitchen table and started flipping to the classifieds. He'd already circled the want adds in blue, and now he was going to start with apartments. He pulled out a red pen and stuck it between his lips as he started to read.

Joey waltzed into the kitchen and set a piece of paper in front of Pacey. "Here."

"What's this?" He lifted the sheet of paper to read it.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Read it."

"Number one," he read aloud. "You never give up. Two, you always make two kinds of spaghetti sauce because I don't like peppers in mine. Three, your cocky smile. Four, you gave me Gabby. Five, the sound of your voice in the morning. Six, your ability to make me smile when it's the last thing I want to do. Seven..." he trailed off, scanning down the paper and then turning it over to see the back covered in writing as well. "Joey, what is this?" He asked, uncomprehending.

"What do you think it is? You asked me why I loved you..." She gestured to the paper. "There they are."

He glanced from her to the paper and back again, a faint smile gracing his lips. "You were really able to come up with forty-two reasons why you love me?"

"There could have been more, but I ran out of paper."

He pushed back the chair, rising to his feet. "I'm...I'm pretty much dumbstruck here, Potter."

She shrugged. "You asked."

"I didn't believe you truly had an answer." He moved in front of her, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "Let alone forty-two of them."

She smiled faintly. "Surprise?"

He smiled down at her, "I'm afraid to say the wrong thing and make this all go away."

"So don't say anything."

"I can do that," he murmured, his eyes drifting to her lips, watching her tongue slip out to moisten them. Sliding a hand into her hair, he pulled her gently forward, his mouth meeting hers halfway in a tender kiss. She felt his arm slip around her waist holding her protectively against him, his lips parting gently over hers. This was a kiss between lovers, not the violent kisses that had ravaged their relationship until this point.

She slid her hands over his shoulder and around his neck, her mouth parting further for the soft, languid touch of his tongue to hers. Stumbling slightly, he pressed her against the counter, his hands sliding sensuously under her shirt to caress her silky skin. Neither was aware of the phone ringing impatiently.

The machine clicked on and the familiar recording played, asking for a message to be left after the beep. Dawson's voice filled the room. "Guys, Jen's gone into labor. We're on our way to the hospital right now."

Pacey broke away with a faint smile. "Hearing his voice is better than a cold shower," he said breathlessly.

She laughed lightly. "Yeah."

He kissed the corner of her mouth again, and pulled away. "Do you know which hospital they're going to?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

He took her hand, arching an eyebrow at her," Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Ya sure?" His brow furrowed as he watched her, unable to decipher the _expression on her face or the tone of her voice.

She smiled with impatience. "Yes."

He relaxed, and grabbed his keys from the kitchen table, "Let's go, then."

"She's only dilated to three centimeters." Dawson informed them, ringing his hands impatiently. He shifted his weight from side to side in the maternity ward waiting room where Pacey and Joey had been waiting for five minutes. Amazingly enough, it was empty except for them. "It may be awhile."

Joey smiled from her spot curled up on the couch. "We can wait."

"Are you sure? I can always call you when she gets closer."

"Yeah, man." Pacey nodded with a smirk, "It's not like I have a job or anything."

"What?" Dawson stared blankly at his friend.

"Never mind, I'll fill you in later. Go back to your girlfriend." Pacey waved a hand.

Joey nodded. "Tell Jen that we're here for her, okay?"

"I will," he headed for the door. "I'll keep you guys updated," he promised before disappearing down the hall.

Joey sighed, propping her elbow on the arm of the couch and resting her head on her arm. "I hope this doesn't take long."

"For Jen's sake, I agree with you." Pacey said, watching Joey through the corner of his eye.

"I still can't believe that Dawson and Jen are actually having a baby."

"I still can't believe he hasn't asked her to marry him yet."

"Well, it is Dawson..." Joey shrugged. "That might not be far behind."

"Just seems odd of him to be a father before he's a husband. He's always been so by the book in everything."

"Not all the time."

"In most things then." He corrected.

She smiled faintly. "I don't think Jen has anything to worry about."

"No," Pacey smiled to himself, "She pretty much has Dawson wrapped around her little finger."

"So they'll be fine."

"I never doubted that they would be." He smiled, "It's sorta amazing how far they've come since high school."

"Yeah, who'd have thought?"

"Hmm," he leaned back on his side the couch. "Not me, that's for sure."

"Jen a mother." She sighed. "I suddenly feel old."

"You still look as young and vibrant as you did when we graduated."

"I'm glad one of us does." She smiled.

He shot her a narrow look, "Are you saying I've got wrinkles?"

"Do you?"

"I prefer to call them smile lines."

She shrugged with a smug little smile, "Whatever makes you feel better." There was a long silence. Joey leaned over and peered closer at Pacey. "Hmm, I think that's a gray hair."

He arched an amused eyebrow at her, "If I have any gray hairs, you know who's to blame, right?"

She blinked innocently. "Who?"

"Tall, brunette, big, brown doe eyes...has an annoying little mutt who chews on my socks...Any of this ringing a bell?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Nope."

"Such a selective memory you have."

"I really think the problem is old age."

"You were born two months after I was, Potter." He reminded her.

She raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you trying to imply?"

"That you are just as elderly as I am."

She socked his arm indignantly. "I am not elderly!"

He smiled and pulled her across his lap, "Neither am I, Granny."

"Could have fooled me, Grandpa."

Instead of replying, he brushed a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear, grazing the length of her neck with his thumb as he searched her eyes. "What are you thinking?" He wondered as she shifted in his lap.

She bit her lip. "Just worried about Jen."

"She'll be fine." He smiled, "I'm told women do this sort of thing all the time."

"I didn't know that," she said dryly. "Suddenly, that makes things so much better."

"I knew it would," he teased.

"You're such a smartass."

"Wasn't that on your list somewhere?"

"I don't think it was."

He smirked, "Maybe it should be. It's one of my finer traits."

"That's what you think."

He touched the tip of her nose, "That's what I know."

"Well, then, you've been misinformed."

He shrugged a shoulder, "So I have."

"That's what I thought."

He loosened his hold on her, "Want to get up?"

She muffled a small yawn. "I guess."

"Tired?" He asked needlessly.

"A little."

"Do you regret it?" He asked, urging her head down onto his shoulder.

She shrugged. "I regret a lot of things."

"What do you regret most?" He wondered softly.

"It's hard to decide."

"You wanna know what I regret most?"

"What?"

"What happened in the shower yesterday," He smoothed her hair back, his blue eyes soft with apology. "It was...I can't ever forgive myself for that."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"You weren't ready...I forced you..." he shook his head. "I think maybe you're not being hard enough on me."

"Can't we just...start over with a clean slate?"

"I would love that. Do you think we can?"

Her lips curved faintly. "We can try."

"So the last two months just didn't happen." He said, waving his hand. "Gone, vamoose, disappeared."

She raised an eyebrow curiously. "Do you think it will work?"

"We would have to let go of all our anger." He said slowly, "And between the two of us, we sure had a lot."

"Yeah..."

His eyes drifted away from her and to the gray carpeting, "I was angry at first because I believed that you loved me, and were denying it. Then, I thought that you didn't love me at all, and were just using me...and that hurt ten times more because I didn't think you could be that heartless. At that point...I just wanted to hurt you back."

She was quiet for a moment, before sliding her hand into his and giving it a soft squeeze.

Lifting his eyes to hers, he gave her a soft smile. "It still hurts, but I'm not angry anymore."

"Thanks."

"Thanks?" He arched a baffled eyebrow at her.

She sighed. "I don't know what I'm saying, actually, I don't know what to say."

"Just be honest with me, Joey. We're long past time for that."

She frowned. "I'm sorry about everything."

He touched her cheek lightly, "So am I. Are you angry still?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Maybe I shouldn't force this conversation," he sighed quietly.

"I'm not upset and I'm not angry."

"What do you want now, Jo?" He asked, looking into her eyes, "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

She shrugged. "I just want to sort this all out."

He slid away from her, leaving her alone on the couch. "Well, then consider it sorted. None of this ever happened, and now we're back to being friends." He stopped pacing and headed for the door, "I'm going to go get some water."

"Okay..."

He didn't look back at her as he left.

Joey sat quietly, mulling over the conversation after he'd left. She wondered what she could say to convince him that she was okay with everything.

After a long walk through the wing, and a lengthy pause at the water fountain, Pacey made his way back to the waiting room, a newspaper under his arm. "Any word?" He asked her, closing the door behind him.

She shook her head, drawing her knees to her chest. "No. No word."

"In this case, I guess no news isn't exactly good news is it?" He commented lightly, moving to sit on the couch and opened the news paper. "You want the Arts section?" He offered a section of the paper to her.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the paper from him.

"I'm certainly not gonna read it," he offered her a quick smile and flipped through the pages until he came to the classified section. He stacked the rest of paper on the couch between them, pulling out a pen from his pocket as he scanned through the ads.

She peered over his shoulder at the paper. "Any luck?"

"So-so," he shrugged. "Nothing that jumps out at me."

"Let me check," she said, grabbing the paper from him.

He chuckled, "Nice of you to offer."

"Just being considerate."

"See anything?"

"I'm looking," she said as she scanned the paper.

He offered her the pen in his hand, "You might need this."

"Thanks."

He waited for several moments, watching her eyes scan over the lines, smiling faintly to himself as she tapped the end of her pen against her teeth. "Wow, still nothing?"

"Kind of surprising."

"Shocking." He reached for the paper, "Sure you don't want me to look?"

"I can handle it."

"Okay," he picked up the sports section. "Let me know if anything catches your attention."

"Will do." He started reading about the last Boston Red Sox game, one that unfortantely, he'd missed. "I think I found one." Then she shook her head. "No, wait. Forget it."

He gazed over at her, "No, read it to me."

"It's not even worth mentioning."

"I can judge for myself, Potter."

"You don't trust my judgment?"

"I take it back," he returned to his paper. "I trust ya."

She smiled faintly. "I'll continue my search."

"I'll be waiting."

"Okay."

He continued reading the paper, not looking over at her, "You do realize I was looking for want ads, not apartments, right?"

She was silent for a moment and then turned the page. "Of course."

"But, if you want me to move, keep looking there." He added, just to be on the safe side.

"I don't want you to move."

He smiled faintly behind his paper, "Good, 'cause I don't want to move."

"Glad we agree then."

"For once."

"Maybe this does have a chance of working."

He continued to hide behind the paper, "We should probably start slow."

"Slow is good."

"Keeps things simple."

"Right. Simple."

"You want it to work?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Can I be a jerk for a minute?"

She arched an eyebrow curiously. "Okay..."

"You've told me that you love me. You've even written it down..." He sighed, the paper crumbling beneath his hands, "And maybe I'm an asshole for thinking that's not enough, but you seem...scared."

"I am," she admitted softly, glancing down at the paper in her hands. "I'm terrified that I'm going to screw this up."

He let out a long breath, "Jo...the only way we're gonna screw this up is if we don't talk to each other, if we're not honest." He reached for her hand, "When you talk in monosyllables, I start thinking that there's something wrong."

She frowned. "I don't want to say the wrong thing."

"As long as you promise to say what’s on your mind, I promise not to walk away."

She nodded, thinking about it for a moment. "Alright, I can do that."

He smiled, "Anything you wanna add to that?"

"You'll do the same thing?"

"It's a deal." He nodded.

"Okay." She nodded. "Let's kiss on it."

"No better way to seal a deal," he shrugged a shoulder, his smile betraying his nonchalance. He tossed aside the papers between them, scattering them across the floor as he pulled her towards him.

She smiled against his lips. "You're going to have to clean that up."

"Well worth it." Sliding his hand through her hair he cupped the back of her head, his lips warm and soft as they met hers.