Pacey opened the door to one of the upstairs bathrooms, and flipped on the light several hours later. Joey sat on the floor, slumped against the bathtub. She blinked at the intrusion, and drew her brows together in an annoyance. "This room's taken!"

Pacey arched an eyebrow, "So this is where the party animal disappeared to."

She ran a hand through her hair, pulling it away from her face. "Um, I did say taken, didn't I?"

"Your friends were looking for you," he told her. "At least the one who's still capable of walking."

She giggled. "I'm right here!"

Pacey smiled in disbelief, "Well, I know that and you know that..."

"So?"

"They left."

Joey began to laugh. "Uh, I guess that's kind of a problem then, huh?"

"Yeah, just kind of." He came into the tiny room, "Most of the party broke up. It's last call."

"Amateurs."

"Look who's talking," he leaned up against the wall. "How are you feeling?"

"Kind of nauseous."

"Wait till tomorrow morning." He held out a hand to help her up.

She smiled, a little wobbly on her legs. "It was a great party."

"Alert the presses, Joey Potter had fun at a party."

Joey grinned widely. "Front page news."

"You should drink more often," he told her. "I've never seen you smile so much."

She sighed, leaning against him. "You have a great smile."

"Okay, now I know you've had too much to drink." He slid an arm around her waist, and directed her towards the door.

Joey slid her tongue along her lips, and tried to shape her mouth around words. "Where's Shelby?"

"Well, I don't know a Shelby, but Shelly, is passed out in Monica's room."

"Lightweight."

He shrugged, "She enjoyed herself."

"I think my house is too far."

"Are you going to be sick?" He asked worriedly.

She sighed. "I'm tired."

"Well, since it is after three, I'm not surprised. We've got stairs coming up."'

"I want to sit," she whined.

"Okay, we can sit." He told her placatingly. "In the car."

"I want to sit now!"

"Okay, okay." He stopped walking and let go of her, making sure she wouldn't tumble head first down the stairs. "There, look," he sat beside her. "We're sitting."

She let her head rest against the banister with a tired sigh. "Thanks."

"Welcome." He leaned forward, his arms on his knees. "So what brought on the binge drinking? Fight with Dawson?"

"Just having fun."

"Yeah, well...you definitely were doing that, from what I could tell."

Joey fell quiet. "I think my problem is that I don't have enough fun."

"I think you've made up for that tonight." He said wryly.

"I need to have more fun. I need to stop letting opportunities pass me by."

"And fun means getting wasted?"

"I want to have sex, and really sloppy make-out sessions."

Pacey choked, his eyes wide, "That's blunt. Shouldn't you be saying that to Dawson, not me?"

Joey waved it off. "And I want chocolate."

"So, chocolate, sloppy make-out sessions and sex. Is there anything else I should be worried about?"

She nodded. "Strawberry jello."

He chuckled, "Strawberry jello, huh?"

"Yep."

"And pray tell, why should I worry about jello?"

"Because," she leaned closer to impart this important information. "It's sneaky."

"The jello is?" He asked for clarification.

She nodded. "Uh-huh."

He smiled, "You're really drunk."

She rested her head against his shoulder, pouting petulantly. "I am not."

"You're suspicious of a food, Potter." He reminded her with amusement, turning his head and kissing her hair. "You're piss drunk."

"Whatever. It's nice."

"Are we talking about the jello or the alcohol now?" He arched an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Should we try standing again?" He asked her, "Get away from the dangerous jello maybe? I'm sure it's lurking downstairs just waiting to get you."

"It just slides over your tongue, silky and smooth."

"Oh God," he muttered standing up. "Definitely time to get you home."

"It tastes good, even better with whip cream."

"You got into the jello shots, didn't you?" He held out both hands to help her up.

She climbed unsteadily to her feet. "Jack helped."

"Oh, I'm sure he did. Remind me to talk to him about that," he released her hand.

"It was all very scientific," she explained.

"Right, you got drunk in the name of science." He humored her, starting down the stairs. "Not because of a fight with Dawson."

She slowly made her way down the stairs, not too sure of her footing. "I did not fight with Dawson."

He kept one eye on her progress, going slow so he could catch her if she lost her balance. "You only get drunk when you're upset."

"I am not upset," she stated diplomatically. "I am happy."

"Now you are," he agreed. "You weren't when you got here."

"That's not true."

"So what was the fight about?"

Joey skipped down the last three steps and then grinned when she managed not to fall. "I wouldn't give him a blow job," she lied.

"You wouldn't what?!" He demanded.

She ran her tongue over her teeth. "What did I say?"

"He asked you for a blow job?!" Pacey's expression darkened with fury and disbelief.

"It's a long story."

"If he wanted you to do something you weren't ready for, that's all I need to know," he stalked passed her, his mind already focused on tearing Dawson apart limb from limb.

Joey lifted her foot and tried to adjust the strap on her shoe, barely managing not to fall over. "It was just a discussion."

His hands tightened into fists, and he turned back, "And he forced the issue?"

"This is kind of none of your business"

His jaw clenched, "If he hurts you..."

"What do you care?"

He shook his head and opened the front door for her, "Sorry, I forgot. I don't."

She nodded. "That's what I thought."

He bit down on his tongue, "Let's go."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're going to take me home?"

"No, Bessie would kill you."

"So where am I going?"

"I was going to take you to Dawson's...but that's not going to work now, is it?" He held the door open.

She managed to climb into the truck with little incident. "Dawson will harbor this fugitive."

"And I'm sure he'd just love having a drunk Joey Potter throwing herself at him. I don't think so." He shook his head, and moved around to his side of the car and climbed inside.

"I guess I'll go home."

"You can sleep on the boat," he shifted into drive and pulled onto the road.

She slumped down in her seat. "I like my bed."

"Yeah, and if Bessie sees you like this, yours is the only one you'll be seeing for months." Joey slipped her shoes off, and turned, stretching out along the seat. She yawned. "Or you could just fall asleep in the car," he murmured to himself.

She rested her feet on his lap, struggling to keep her eyes open as she gazed out the windshield at the endlessly dark sky. "You know, I was thinking."

"As always," he glanced over at her.

"Yeah."

"And what were you thinking?"

She shrugged. "I was thinking."

He chuckled, "Any thoughts in particular, or just randomness?"

"No, not really."

"Jello shots will do that," he sighed.

She smiled, turning in her seat again, this time resting her feet against the passenger side window, some of her hair spilling onto his leg. "Those were really good."

He brushed his fingers through her hair, pushing the strands from his jeans for his own sanity. "I think you found anything alcoholic really good."

"Yep!"

"I see the nausea has faded away."

"I think it has."

"That's a good sign."

She let her eyes fall shut. "Yep."

"Tired?"

She forced her eyes open. "No."

"You can sleep soon," he told her softly.

"Not tired."

"See if you say that when you get in bed," he pulled the car up to True Love.

She frowned. "I don't want to move."

"You'll freeze in the car," he explained patiently, shifting into park and unbuckling his seatbelt.

"So?"

He walked around the car and opened her door, and her feet fell from where she'd had them propped on he window sill. Holding out his hands for her to take, he waited, "I'll help you."

"Blah." She reluctantly slid down the seat.

"Thank you." Once she was steadily on her feet, he let go of her hand and started towards the boat.

Joey climbed back into the truck.

"Potter," he sighed and rested his hand on the top of the door. "What are you doing?"

She stretched her legs out in front of her, flexing her ankles. "I need my shoes. It's cold!"

He stood in front of her and reached around to the floor where she had kicked off her shoes. "Why'd you take them off anyway?" He handed one to her, and then bent on one knee to slip the first on, not bothering with the laces.

"Because," Joey said pulling her other shoe on. "They were bothering me."

"Were you suspicious of them too?" He teased, stepping back so she could exit the car.

"That's a silly question."

"And being suspicious of jello isn't silly?" He closed the door behind her and started again for the boat.

"Bite me."

"Don't give me ideas, Jo," he climbed up the ladder and pulled out his key for the cabin door.

Joey slowly made her way up the ladder. "Ah, bite me."

"One more time, and I'm going to do it," he warned her, finding the correct key and slipping it into the lock.

"I'll throw you overboard."

"You couldn't find overboard right now."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Bite me."

He rolled his eyes, and caught her hand, pulling her against him. "I warned you, didn't I?"

She blinked in surprise, her head still spinning from the alcohol. She stared at his chest for a moment, still trying to adjust to him being so close. She raked her teeth against her bottom lip, sucking on it lightly, and raised her lashes so she could gaze up at him.

His breath was warm against her neck, as he bend his head forward. A faint growl escaped his throat, sending shivers down her spine as she felt his lips brush her ear. Then he bit down on her earlobe.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she trembled slightly, her knees almost threatening to give out on her. She exhaled sharply and swept her tongue over her lips, trying to think of something appropriate to say. The requisite disgust and reprimand were on her lips, and she opened her mouth to speak: "Again."

He didn't even consider doing anything else. Curving one hand over her waist, holding her in front of him, he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue and back to the lobe. He nibbled on the tender skin, sucking it between his lips. She moaned softly, sinking against him, warm heat beginning to spread through her. She wondered if she could blame the alcohol.

Pacey's breath caught as he trailed his lips down her throat. His mouth was hot and wet against her neck as he sucked gently at the skin, his teeth nipping tenderly every few seconds. Joey swallowed, trying to keep her eyes open, the heat sweeping through her too enticing. She needed to stop this. It was wrong. It was bad. She bit her lip. It felt really good.

Taking a deep breath, Pacey pulled way, abruptly taking his hands off her as though he'd been burned. She swayed forward as he stepped back and he didn't reach out to steady her. "You're drunk," he accused.

Her eyes flew open, the cold night air quickly pierced through her, the warmth dissolving and she tried to adjust to the change. "Oh."

His breathing labored, he turned away from her and opened the door to the cabin, disappearing inside. "Come on." She followed after him, not knowing what else to do. She found herself touching her neck lightly in an attempt to recapture that warmth.

He shoved aside tool boxes and pulled back the drop cloth that covered the bed, revealing two heavy blankets and a pillow. "Ignore the mess," he murmured huskily, clearing his throat. "I wasn't prepared for a house guest."

She shrugged, kicking her shoes off and climbing onto the bed. "It's okay. I don't care."

"I'll set up the space heater and get out of your way," he moved the small radiator away from the door and closer to the bed and turning the switch to get it going.

She murmured an unintelligible response, already curling herself up against a pillow. He found a bucket and put it beside the bed, "Jo, there's a bucket here, just in case. I'll see you tomorrow." She didn't open her eyes. "Yeah," he sighed. "Thought so." He fiddled around for a few minutes, cleaning up a little before he turned off the lights and opened the door to leave.

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