Pacey knocked on the door of the Lindley-Ryan-McPhee-Leery home at eight am that morning. Having been awake since a little after four, he couldn’t stand to wait any longer to get help. After the diaper debacle, he’d spent twenty more minutes trying to get her pajama’s back on her wiggling limbs. Once she was safely tucked back into her bassinet, he left her alone and made a bee-line for the bottle of Tylenol in his medicine cabinet, desperate to kill the raging headache he had.

No sooner had he swallowed the pills, then she’d started crying again. Using his powers of deduction, he took out the powered milk and started mixing a bottle. The first mixture was too thin, the second had lumps, the third was too think, the forth was too thin *with* lumps, and so on. By the time he’d mixed the eighth bottle and managed to get it to the right consistency and temperature Pacey was doubting his expertise as a chef.

And still, it was only five in the morning.

He tried to hand her the bottle, only to have her drop it beside her. Coming to the conclusion that she was too young to feed herself, he took a seat beside her and held the bottle to her mouth. Using the silence to his best advantage, he read through the papers Melanie had left him. The first went over Victoria’s eating and sleeping schedule, what size diapers to get her, and what brand of baby formula she liked. That would come in handy, he knew, since he’d used all the formula trying to mix just one bottle.

Next came the doctors records, he scanned those, understanding she’d gotten all the shots she needed and was in perfect health. Wryly, he wondered how long that would last if she was left in his care much longer. Lastly, came the legal document in which Melanie abdicated all her maternal rights. Maybe there was a loop hole somewhere, he thought hopefully, unable to decipher all the legal jargon. It was unlikely, considering Melanie was going to be a lawyer. Part of him knew even if he did find some kind of loophole, that wouldn’t change the fact that Melanie wanted nothing to do with her own daughter.

He delayed barging into his friends’ home too early by eating his own breakfast, taking a shower (with the baby on the toilet seat), and watching the early morning news. The entire time, he avoiding paying any extra special attention to Victoria. There was no room for a baby in his life, he was too young and wild and carefree to be tied down to that kind of responsibility.

So now, after driving very slowly having lacked a car seat, he arrived at his destination and stood at the door, the bassinet at his feet. He knocked loudly, and waited, glancing down at Victoria, wrapped so snug in her blankets that if he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t suspect a baby of even being in there.

Jack appeared as the door swung open. His brows quirked together in confusion. "Pacey? Hey, man." He checked his watch to double check the time. "Not to sound rude or anything, but what are you doing here? I didn’t know you rose before noon." His friendly smile faltered when his friend didn’t smile back.

"I kinda sorta have a problem," he admitted, not quite meeting Jack’s eyes. "It’s a little thing…" that much was the truth, Victoria didn’t weigh more than thirteen pounds.

"What kind of little thing?" Jack asked suspiciously. Instead of replying, Pacey looked down at the bassinet and Jack followed his gaze. He started to laugh, "Who on earth would trust you with their baby?" He stepped back from the door, "Come on in."

Pacey flinched, but Jack missed it. "I don’t suppose Grams is around, is she?"

"If you think you’re going to foist your baby-sitting duties onto Grams," he shook his head with a chuckle and led the way into the kitchen, "Think again."

"I just figured she could help me out a bit, since as usual, I’m profoundly clueless here." He put the bassinet on the table as Jack poured out a bowl of cereal.

"You want some?" Pacey shook his head. "Well, I believe Grams is out grocery shopping."

"At eight am?"

Jack chuckled, "She likes to go early to beat the rush."

"So she’ll be back soon, then?"

"Yeah, half an hour or so. Dawson just left for class, and Jen’s still sleeping. She subscribes to the Pacey Witter school of thought when it comes to the proper time to start her morning."

"Har dee har har, Jackers." Pacey rolled his eyes and checked on Victoria.

"So," he moved around the center island and pulled back the blankets to get a good look at the baby, "Who’s kid is--" He cut off the question as Victoria Celeste Witter looked up at met her Uncle Jack’s eyes for the first time.

Pacey winced as he saw the recognition on his friend’s face, "It’s the eyes that give it away, isn’t it?"

Jack turned expectant eyes on Pacey, "How is it that you had a baby and none of us knew anything about it?"

Pacey shrugged a shoulder, "You see, Jack, when a man and a woman—"

"You know what I mean," Jack put his cereal down and pulled the blankets back on Victoria, taking his first hard look at his friend’s baby.

"Then your answer to the question is that I never knew about her until last night when I found her sitting outside my door."

Jack reached into the bassinet and touched her hand, smiling as her little fingers wrapped around his index finger and held on tight, all the while studying this new stranger standing above her. "Quite a grip on her." He smiled down at the baby, "Please tell me you aren’t the one who dressed her."

Pacey glanced disinterestedly at Victoria’s outfit. "God help her if I did."

"I should wake up Jen for this," Jack pulled his finger away from Victoria.

"Do you have to?" Pacey sighed.

"Yes, I really, really do. We should call Joey and Audrey over too. And Dawson on his cell. He can skip his class." Jack nodded. This was big news.

"You’ll do no such thing. There’s no reason to bother any of them right now. She’s not staying."

That caused Jack to pause as he was leaving, he turned his concerned gaze back to the baby, "She’s not?"

"No." Pacey said with emphasis, "Get Jen if you must, but leave the rest out of it until later."

Jack pursed his lips, "If you say so." He started up the stairs to wake up Jen.

Pacey watched him go and then turned to look at the baby. She waved a hand in the air, seemingly searching for something to grab onto. She really should have a toy of some kind, he thought, and reluctantly offered her his finger to hold. All kids should have a teddy bear or something. But for the moment, she appeared perfectly content to hang onto her daddy’s finger.

Jen came thundering downstairs, her blonde hair tousled from sleep, her pajama bottoms and tank top wrinkled. "Okay, Pacey," she demanded as she started for the kitchen, "Tell Jack here he dreamt this whole thing, cause you, having a kid? That’s not even in the realm…" she came up short, her eyes wide as she saw the bassinet, "...of possibility." She finished numbly, watching as Pacey snatched his finger away from the baby.

He inhaled a deep breath, "Welcome to the twilight zone, Lindley."

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