A quick glance at the digital clock on her night stand told him it was just after four-thirty in the morning. He weighed the wisdom of waking her up this early after their vicious fight and decided he'd risk her wrath. This wasn't something she'd want to miss, even if they were fighting. "Joey," he hissed, gently shaking her. "Jo."

"Go away," she mumbled burying her head in her pillow.

"Come on, Jo, get up." He pulled the covers away from her. "I promise, it's worth it."

She glared up at him. "What is it?"

"Shh," he took her hand and pulled her to sitting. "You don't even have to talk to me. Just get up, okay?"

She made a face of annoyance and rubbed at her bleary eyes. "Why do I have to get up?"

"Just do it, Potter." He picked up the folded quilt from the foot of her bed.

"There better be coffee involved," she grumbled climbing to her feet.

He gestured to her slippers on the floor, "You'll need those," and then walked out the door.

She sighed and combed a hand through her hair, while she stepped into her slippers. "So what the hell is going on?" she asked as she walked out of her room.

He walked into their living room and over to the sliding glass door that lead to their deck. Holding the door open, he gestured for her to go first, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"Going to push me over and then claimed I sleep walked?" She commented, moving past him.

"Not exactly," what little there was of his smile disappeared at her words. He closed the door behind him and gestured to the early morning sky. The stars burned brightly in the dark sky, not at all unusual for them, living on the outskirts of a rapidly growing town. What was unusual, were the streaks of light the fell from the northwest every few seconds.

Joey muffled a small yawn and propped her head against her hand as she leaned against the railing while she gazed out at the horizon.

He watched her for a moment and unfolded the blanket before draping it over her shoulders. "I thought you'd want to see it."

She smiled faintly. "It's nice."

He let his hands linger on her arms as he smoothed the material over her shoulders. Reluctantly, he drew away and moved to stand beside her, his eyes fixed on the sky as a shooting star ignited and then died.

She muffled another yawn and tilted her head slightly. "It really looks pretty."

"I probably shouldn't have woke you."

She shrugged. "Too late now."

They were quiet for a moment, watching the periodic cascade of shooting stars. "Whatever I did to make you want to move out," He said quietly, "I'm sorry."

The corner of her mouth turned down faintly. "Can we not talk about this now?"

"Is there a better time for you?" He tried, but wasn't able to keep the bitterness from entering his voice.

She sighed rubbing at her arms lightly. "It's just better this way."

"Why? How? What did I do?"

"It's better for me," she elaborated.

"I don't want you to go," he said sullenly.

"I have to."

"Why? Why can't we work this out?"

"There's nothing to work out."

"That's the only thing you can say to me?" He frowned and looked away from her. "Eight years, Joey. We've lived together eight years...tell me what changed. What did I do?"

"Oh God, is this why you woke me up?"

"Fine." He shook his head, "Forget it. Forget all of it."

"I'm going back to bed."

"Coward."

"Bite me."

"I did. You didn't seem to like it much."

She scowled and headed out the door. "Whatever."

He followed behind her, "What happened last night, or was about to happen had nothing to do with the fact it was convenient you were next door. It had everything to do with you and me."

"I'm tired."

"You're a coward, that's what you are." He shook his head, "You can't handle the fact that there's more than friendship between us, there has been for a longer than you care to admit. You're running, Potter. The minute something becomes complicated, you turn tail and split." She kept walking, and he reached for her arm, stopping her. Moving into her path, he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her face. "Admit that there's something there, Jo."

She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes. You do." He insisted quietly, watching her eyes in the dim light of the room. His other hand came to rest over her heart, "You feel it here."

She swallowed and lifted her head defiantly. "I don't."

He took her hand and rested it over his chest, "You know that pounding you feel in my heart?" He met her eyes intently, "I feel it in you."

She frowned, her eyes filled with sadness and fatigue. "Pacey, please don't do this."

"I can't let you go," he said softly. "I just can't."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"You," he said simply. "I want you and I want us."

She shook her head again. "You're crazy."

"I'm perfectly, 100% sane," he murmured. "Why are you trying so hard to deny it?"

"Deny what? There's nothing to deny. There's nothing."

He bit his lip, "Maybe you don't feel anything for me, but I'm so in love with you. Just," he sighed, "Just let me try."

"Try what?"

"Anything. Let me show you how much you mean to me. Maybe you'll find yourself feeling something back." His fingers trailed up her arm.

She almost laughed. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Then you must be delirious from lack of sleep as am I, because we're not having this conversation." She turned and headed for her room.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to prove it to you, Potter," he called after her.

"Get some sleep, Pacey." She tossed over her shoulder before shutting her door.

"Right," he nodded his head to himself as he went to his own bedroom. "Sleep tonight, woo tomorrow."

Joey gradually drifted awake to the scent of freshly cooked bacon. She smiled faintly and hugged her pillow at the recollection of more pleasant memories before her eyes opened. She forced herself to climb out of bed and slipped on her slippers before leaving the room.

He heard the door to her bedroom click shut, "Mornin', beautiful." He didn't turn away from the stove as he flipped two buttermilk pancakes in the pan.

She raised an eyebrow before heading for the coffeepot. "Morning..."

"How many pancakes do you think you can eat?" He wondered, smiling to himself as he flipped the hot cake into the air and caught it on it's descent.

"I'm really not that hungry," she said with a small yawn as she wrapped her hands around the warm mug of coffee and took a sip.

He smiled at her over his shoulder, "You sure? 'Cause if I eat this all myself, I'm libel to explode."

"I'm sure."

He flipped the finished pancakes over his shoulder and caught them on a plate, which he then presented to her. "You wouldn't want that on your conscience, now would you?"

She smiled. "I'm pretty sure I can live with that."

He stuck out his lower lip and pouted. "I always knew you wanted me dead."

"I didn't realize it was so obvious."

He stuck his tongue out at her and went back to the stove to check the bacon. "So, Miss. Potter. What are your plans for today?"

"I'm supposed to meet a friend for lunch." She raised her mug back to her lips.

"A friend, huh? Dawson or Jen?"

She paused thoughtfully. "Um, Jen."

He nodded once, and slid the bacon onto a plate. He took it, and another plate from the oven and put them on the table. "Tell her I said hi." He moved to the fridge and pulled out a container of orange juice. He finally joined her at the table, and gave her a speculative look through his one good eye, "You're not really going to leave me to eat all this alone, are you?"

"I think you can manage it." She leaned over and snagged a piece of bacon off the plate. "I should go shower."

"Shower after you eat." He nudged the plate of bacon closer to her. "Besides, you smell good enough to eat, you don't need to shower."

She rolled her eyes and reached for another piece of bacon. "Now there's an idea."

"Or I could always join you in that shower. You know, make sure you get extra clean," he winked playfully at her.

"You wish."

He nodded with a smirk, "Remember all those stars last night? I wished that on every single one." He poured her a glass of orange juice. "Now eat."

"Not hungry."

He took a few pancakes from the stack and doused them with maple syrup. "Has anyone ever told you that you're unreasonable?"

"I'm not unreasonable."

"Jo, I heard your stomach growl not two minutes after entering the kitchen. All you've eaten is two pieces of bacon and half a cup of coffee." He took a bite of his pancake. "Don't even try and tell me you're full."

"I wasn't that hungry."

He cut up a piece of pancake and held it to her lips. "Just try it. Please?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Oh fine, whatever." She leaned forward in her seat, wrapped her lips around the fork, pulled back and chewed.

He smiled distractedly, "Good or no?"

She lifted a shoulder. "It's okay."

He smirked, knowing perfectly well they were delicious. He cut her another piece and offered it to her, "Guess the secret ingredient?"

"What is it?" she asked, leaned forward and ate the next piece.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He teased.

"Just dying of curiosity," she said dryly.

He cut her another piece, "Save the sarcasm and just savor the experience." He watched with veiled eyes as she took the proffered morsel. "Beer."

An amused smile crossed her lips. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. It makes them all fluffy and stuff." He smiled and fed her another piece.

"I'd have never guessed."

"The art is putting in just the right amount so it's not over powering."

She licked her lips. "Interesting."

He swallowed thickly, "Umm hmm." He offered her a forkful of homemade hashbrowns. "Try these."

Her mouth slid over the fork and then she chewed pensively. "Not bad."

"See, I'm not half bad as a chef."

"Guess not."

He continued to feed her, "What are your plans after lunch?"

"I don't really have anything special planned."

"Maybe I could interest you in something..?" He asked lightly.

"Like?"

"Like...a date."

She shook her head. "No."

"Well, then...how about a non-date?"

"Pacey," she sighed. "Bad idea."

"Why?"

She glared. "You know why."

"No," he sat back, "Actually, I don't. Is that you don't think I'm sincere or are you just not attracted to me?"

She scowled and climbed to her feet. "Why be choosy? Let's just go with both."

"Okay," he sighed and lifted his hands to indicate he was backing off. "Go take your shower, meet Jen and I'll see you later? But for the record, I don’t believe you."

"I don't care."

"Yeah, I know you don't." He stood up and started to clear the table. She let out a low growl of frustration and stalked off to the bathroom.

"Look into my heart...and you will see just what you mean to me...." Pacey sang along with Bryan Adams song. "Search your heart, search your soul...when you find me there you'll search no more." He continued to fold laundry into two piles, one for him and one for Joey as he sang. "Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for.... You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for. You know it's true.... Everything I do...I do it for you."

Joey shut the door behind her and placed her keys in her coat pocket before hanging it up. She'd been all over with the realtor as they went over different apartments and right now all she wanted was off her feet.

"Look into my heart, you will find there's nothin' there to hide..." Pacey belted the words as he folded Joey's underwear into neat little squares, trying not to think too much about them. "Take me as I am, take my life. I would give it all...I would sacrifice."

Joey sighed and slipped off her shoes, hoping for an uneventful trip to her bedroom.

"Don't tell me--" he caught sight of Joey out of the corner of his eye and stopped singing immediately. He used the remote to turn the volume down. "Hey."

"Hey."

"So how was lunch?"

"Tiring," she responded quickly. "I'm gonna go lay down."

"Yeah, you were gone a while." He gestured to the pile of laundry, "You wanna take these with you?"

"Yeah, fine." She grabbed her laundry and headed for her room.

He caught her arm and pulled her to sit down. "Look, Potter. I'm going to try this a little differently this time." He sat forward and handed her a stack of three tapes from the coffee table, "We can just sit here, in complete silence, and watch a movie. Just like we used to. Completely platonic."

She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck wearily. "All right."

"You pick."

She grabbed the first one. "Here. This one."

He arched an eyebrow, "You sure?"

"Sure."

"O-kay." He stood up and put the video in, hit play, and went back to the couch, sitting at the far end of the couch, giving her ample personal space. The credits began to roll, "Star Whores: A New Fuck."

Joey grabbed the closest thing next to her, a pillow, and hit him with it. "I loathe you."

He laughed trying to block her blows. "This is the one you said you wanted. Who was I to argue?"

"Why was it even an option?"

"They must have thrown that one in by mistake." He smiled, a faint tinge of color climbing up his neck, "Yeah, that's it."

"Pervert."

He shrugged a shoulder, "I don't see you stopping the tape."

"You stop it!"

"No," he tilted his head speculatively. "You know, I think you subconsciously chose this one."

"I did not." She searched around for the remote so she could turn it off.

"Which is exactly what you'd say if you did want to watch it."

She found the remote and switched it off. "I don't."

He chuckled, "But I guess you'd say that if really didn't want to watch it too."

She glared, grabbed her clothes and headed for her room. He got up and switched videos before walking down the hall to Joey's room. He knocked on the door once, "I switched the tapes, we can watch Reality Bites instead."

"I don't want to."

"I also rented that new one you wanted to see, A Face to Remember?" He tried to sweet talk her back out to her room. "It's got Tom Cruise..."

"Go away!"

"Joey," he sat on the edge of her bed. "It's just a simple movie. Why are you making this into a big deal?"

"I don't want to watch a movie with you."

"Look, I get it that you don't want a relationship with me. I may not believe it, but I get it. Why are you suddenly refusing even friendship now?"

She rested the back of her hand against her head. "I'm tired and don't feel like watching a movie."

"It's no fun watching a movie alone."

"You'll live."

"No, I really don't think I will." He flopped back on the bed mimicking death. He peeked out at her with one eye, "This is me dead, if you couldn't tell."

"Sure talk a lot for a dead man."

He snapped his mouth shut.

She smiled. "Finally, peace and quiet."

He remained silent for a few seconds, then very slowly his hand crept forward and tickled the bottom of one of her feet.

She bit her lip to stifle a giggle and she moved her foot away. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" he continued to tickle her, "I'm dead."

She laughed and tried to shift away. "You are not, so stop!"

He smirked keeping his eyes closed and caught her around the ankle so she couldn't move her foot. "Okay, so I'm not dead."

"I've noticed."

He slowed his tickle to a soothing massage. "I never could fool you."

She felt her eyes drift close as she began to relax. "Mmm...god, that feels good."

He smiled to himself and deepened his ministrations on the arch of her foot. "Long day?"

A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Uh-huh."

He tickled the arch lightly before moving on to the second foot, starting at her toes and working his way down. "Just relax, Potter."

She inhaled deeply. Her body sank into the soft comforter, her eyes going blurry with pleasure. He contemplated kissing the arch of her foot, licking his lips at the thought. She'd probably kick him in the face though.

The worst of the aches began to evaporate and she started to drift. He continued the slow massage, happy that she was content to fall asleep with him there. She was obviously more exhausted than she appeared--to him, she still looked bright and beautiful.

"I think we found something you're considerably good at besides cooking," she murmured.

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Care to further explore the things I'm good at?" he questioned, his voice low.

Her lips twisted into a smile. "Hmm...You keep on doing what you're doing and I just might have to take you up on that offer."

He renewed his massage with vigor. She moaned softly and let her eyes fall closed. Dare he try and seduce her? She'd probably hate him even more. But the temptation was there.

She sighed, she didn't think she could move if she tried. His fingers slowed down and he let his hands fall away from her feet. Silently, he contemplated the situation, wondering what he could do to convince her of his feelings.

There was a long overdrawn sigh. "Hmm, thanks Pacey."

"Welcome," he replied quietly sitting up on the bed, he slid from the mattress and pulled her quilt over her shoulders. He have her a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth, "Get some sleep."

She smiled drowsily and settled deep into her pillows and sank into an exhausted sleep.