Pacey slid onto the stool; his eyes open wide, his eyelashes fluttering. "Gee, Mr. Soda Jerk, can I have an extra cherry on my sundae?"

"From what I hear, Witter, you've pretty much had all the cherries in town." Drue's glare was easy to ignore since he was decked out in a white shirt with a pink polka-dotted bow tie.

"You know, it's probably good for your complexion, not to mention your life span, that I'm such a mellow guy these days." Pacey set the small menu flat on the counter. "Strawberry shake." As Drue fixed his drink, Pacey looked around. "Do I dare ask why or how?"

"My father decided that the 80 year old bottle of scotch I drank was worth more than the first year of my college education." Drue shrugged. "So, although the tuition is paid, I am forced to slave away here."

"Why not the yacht club?"

"My mother is a throwback to the pre-civil war days when it comes to her beliefs on familial employment."

"So you picked the new diner." Pacey nodded. "Why?"

"Because I thought it was the place least likely to be overrun by you and your gang of dysfunctional friends." He set Pacey's shake on the counter. "Because, and I mean no personal offense here, I'd be perfectly happy if I never saw any of you…" Drue shook his head as the bell above the door jingled and Jen and Jack walked in.

Pacey cast a quick glance over his shoulder then looked back at Drue. "I can't quite believe these words are leaving my mouth, but you want to get out of here?"

Drue's eyes were locked on Jen, who was studiously avoiding eye contact. "Fuck yeah." He tossed his towel aside and unsnapped his bow-tie.

"You gonna tell anyone that you're bailing?"

"The owner's sitting in the back, watching the video monitor and docking my pay for talking to you. He'll figure it out." Drue followed Pacey out the front door, giving Jen one last look. Their eyes met and he stood there for a moment until she blushed and looked away.

He stopped on the sidewalk just outside and dug in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one.

"Those things'll kill you."

"Yeah? Not soon enough." He tossed it onto the sidewalk and ground it out. "So, how was your summer?"

"Fine. What the hell happened during yours?"

"I was almost one of the gang," Drue stated, sarcasm lacing his voice. "I got called up from the minors to the big show."

"And you struck out?"

"I was just a pinch runner." Drue looked away from him, back toward the diner. "Someone else got the hit."

"Can we drop this baseball metaphor before it progresses into the realm of the switch-hitter? Because I'd really like to continue to enjoy America's pastime without thinking about your sex life." Pacey smiled just enough to take the edge off his words. "Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

"Did Jack and Jen…did they ever sleep together?"

"Jack's gay."

"So everyone keeps reminding me," Drue snapped. "Before he fucking parted the pink sea and came out of the closet, did he fuck her?"

"Not that I know of. He was dating Joey."

"Jesus. Do you guys just fucking take turns?" Pacey stopped walking. Drue held up his hands. "I'm sorry. Just because there's a population of, like, four thousand people in this town - which triples during the summer - it's absolutely ridiculous of me to find it at all odd that all three of you guys have dated Joey and tried to fuck Jen. Just tell me this, if Andie hadn't left town, was she the next to be passed around, incest be damned?"

Pacey swung quick and hard, catching Drue on the left side of his jaw. He picked himself off the ground, smirking around the brilliant pulse of pain.

"Exactly whose honor are you defending there, Pacey? Do you even know?"

His hands clenching and unclenching, Pacey walked off. Drue followed him, just out of arm's reach.

"Andie? She's probably getting laid by some swarthy Italian guy and honestly not giving a fuck about any of her fucked up friends and family back home. Either that or she's heavily medicated, locked up in a straitjacket in a cell somewhere, hoping none of the dead start talking to her." Pacey curled his fists against his thighs, his nails digging into his palms.

"Jen? Jen doesn't have any fucking honor to defend. Maybe that's why you and she never did the deed, huh? Or was it just because after your older woman, you decided you liked 'em untouched and intact?"

"I've had to listen to shit like this from Dawson before, Drue." Pacey's voice was low and measured, his body shaking ever so slightly with repressed fury. "I didn't punch him," he turned slowly and looked Drue directly in the eye. "You, I'll kill right where you stand."

"Ah, Dawson," Drue sighed nostalgically. "That brings us to the beautiful Joey Potter. You're too late when it comes to her honor. She pretty much tossed that away when she and Dawson started making out in his bedroom not even a month after you left."

"Explain to me again why I ever felt any shred of sympathy for you?"

"Because you know what it feels like when the girl you love loves someone else. When there's someone else in her head in the bed with you." Drue sat on a nearby bench. "Although, for your sake, I hope you never had to walk in on them mid-coitus."

Pacey walked over and sank down next to him. "You're in love with Jen?" Drue nodded once. "You slept with her?" This time he paused a few moments before nodding. "And she slept with Jack?"

"Well, from what I saw when I walked in, there was no sleeping going on. And he wasn't actually fucking her. But I can't honestly tell you what happened after I left."

"I'm sorry."

"So what did you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Potter. Whenever you were rutting away at her and she got that far-off look in her eyes and suddenly stopped saying your name? What did you do?" When Pacey didn't respond, Drue continued. "How many times, Pace? How many times did you look into her eyes and come and know it wasn't your big dick she wanted between her pearly thighs?"

Pacey got off the bench and stood up, the fury back in his eyes. "Personally, Drue? When it comes to this? I think you've deserved every miserable fucking thing you got."

Jen slumped down in her seat across from Jack, her nose even with the table's edge. "How do all those people in the comics become invisible? That's a skill I'd really like to learn."

"First thing you have to do is be imaginary."

"Well, shit." She closed her eyes and pulled herself back up into a sitting position. "So…"

"We have to do something." Jack didn't look at her. "The first time this almost happened, we were fine afterwards."

"The first time this almost happened and we weren't involved with other people, we didn't have to be interrupted to stop it, and the first time we didn't do much more than kiss." She smiled sadly, her eyes focused over his shoulder at the door. "The first time, we were drunk."

Jack looked down at his hands on the table. "I wrote Tobey an email, trying to explain. But there aren't words. Nothing was an explanation, just a justification."

"Drue can't even manage to stay in the same room as me."

"I'm sorry."

She turned her gaze to Jack. "About which part?" She asked the question seriously, without blame.

"I don't know, really. I guess it depends on whether or not you and I can work past this," he shrugged. "Because right now, I can't see anything past being so sorry I messed up our friendship."

Jen laughed softly. "You couldn't have said that somewhere near Nevada so that we didn't have to endure the United States under a cone of silence?"

"Every time I looked at you, you were staring out your window with tears in your eyes. I wasn't anxious to make it worse."

She nodded. "He hates me now."

"Not as much as he hates me." Jack's grin faded. "How do you think Tobey feels?"

"Probably very much like Drue."

Jack nodded and sighed. "We should go. The service here sucks. Have we even seen a waiter?"

"I think our waiter walked out the door with Pacey right after we came in." Jen grabbed her purse.

"Oh." Jack led the way out, holding the door open for her and falling in step, matching his stride to hers. He didn't look at her as they walked. "You remember on the ski trip? When I told you I was scared that I'd never love anyone like I love you?"

Jen nodded silently.

"I'm scared that I will. That I'll find some guy, someone like Tobey, who'll have these expectations of me that I won't be able to live up to."

"Jack, someone's going to fall in love with you for who you are, just like I did." She reached out for his hand and held it tightly, unable to meet his eyes.

Joey stared up at the dorms, her eyes wide. "Oh. Wow."

"It'll be just like sleeping on the couch again." Bodie slung her overnight bag onto his shoulder. "Except hopefully without the crying baby."

"Great. I'm feeling better about this already." Joey headed toward the imposing building. "What if I hate it? What if I hate my roommate? What if she hates me?"

"Oh, she'll undoubtedly hate you, Jo." Bodie chuckled. "I mean, you're opinionated, headstrong, defiant, not to mention always right." He couldn't help laughing at her wounded look. "I'm teasing. It'll all be her - spoiled, over-privileged, won't know the value of a dollar, thinking you're a lesser person because you're nobody from Smalltown, USA."

"Thanks, Bodie. Now I'm only three times more nervous than I was." She glanced down at the card in her hand and kept walking, stopping when she reached the final doorway. "So, here goes nothing."

The door swung open almost immediately after she knocked. "Hi! You must be Josephine. Do you go by that? Or Jo? Joey?"

"Joey."

"Great. I took the bed on the left. Is that okay? Because I'm totally cool with it, if not. I promise to wait a week at least before I kill you in your sleep for taking it if you really want it."

"Uh.."

"Sorry. I'm a dolt. Come in. And yowza. Who's this?"

"My brother-in-law. Mostly."

"Bodie." Bodie stuck out his hand.

"Well, welcome. Really." She gave him a dramatic wink. "Anytime."

"Thanks." He grinned and tossed Joey's bag on the bed. "You okay, Jo?"

"Hmmm?" She was standing by the window staring down at the campus grounds, teeming with students and parents, all there for orientation weekend. 'Oh. Yeah." She walked to him and hugged him, burying the surprising tears in his shirt. "Thanks, Bodie. See you on Sunday."

He nodded. "Seven o'clock. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She waited until the door was shut then jumped on her bed, pulling her legs up under her. "Okay, Worthington. Here's the deal: You go to the Freshman Focus. You get your packets and check in. Then, you blow the rest of the weekend having a good time."

"I don't…"

"I mean, unless you want to attend a tour of the hall of Presidents and the accompanying lecture on the separation of church and state and the decline in the quality of education in the public sector, after which everyone will ask you which prep school you attended." She cocked her eyebrow. "Really, it's up to you."

"I've been trapped in a small town all summer. A good time sounds pretty good." As her roommate smiled, Joey turned back to the window. "You know, you never said your name."

Her smile widened. "Nicole."

Drue stood at the base of the steps, counting to ten. No matter how many times he told himself to walk away, he still ended up standing there.

"You gonna stand out here all night?" Pacey walked around the side of the porch. "Because he won't hesitate to have you arrested for loitering or trespassing."

"Who?"

"My dad. I thought maybe you'd come here seeking police protection to keep you safe from his maniac son." His grin was slow and feral. "What you don't realize is that he'd probably love to see me locked up for life and he'd have no qualms whatsoever about letting you be the egg for that particular omelet."

"I'm not…"

"Although, I suppose you could be here because Dawson started a trend of my peers dating my sisters but, I gotta tell you, and I do this out of the kindness of my own heart, y'know, with three hellions under the age of seven, she's really not your best bet. Although you probably wouldn't mind molding a few of today's youth, would ya, Drue?"

"I've got a message for you."

"Great. But I've really heard about as much bile from you as I can handle. Thanks though."

"Mr. Kubelik was at the yacht club yesterday. He asked me to pass something along to you. Now personally? I could give a shit if you get the message."

"But since you've whored yourself out to do it, you'll give it your all?"

Drue smirked. "Nah. Doing it out of the kindness of my own heart."

"Right." Pacey took the note out of Drue's hand. He looked down at the paper for a minute. "Have you tried to talk to her?"

"And say what?"

"Maybe let her say something."

"What? She's sorry? She feels really bad that she was fucking around with Jack?"

"That. Maybe more. You could give her a chance."

"Is that what you and Joey did?"

"Just leave my relationship with Joey out of this, okay?" Pacey sat on the porch steps. "Look, Drue, it's obvious that you've got feelings for her. And that's…nothing beats that. But if you don't talk to her," Pacey held out his hands, shrugging slightly. "This is all you've got. And it's all you'll ever have."

"You see?"

Joey blinked rapidly, waking up, turning to face Nicole. "What?"

"Boring. And this is just the first event." She sighed. "Seriously. As soon as this is over, we're heading out on the town."

"I really can't afford…"

"What? Like they're gonna take your scholarship away if you have fun? Like there's a clause in there that says 'I'm sorry Joey Potter, but you've actually enjoyed yourself so you're paying your own way?'" She ignored Joey's attempts to talk. "This is college. There's fun to be had. Even for someone as tightly wound as you are."

"Do you find that insulting people results in them actually doing what you want them to?"

"Depends," Nicole smiled and linked her arm through Joey's. "You coming?"

Joey sank onto her bed. "You're completely insane."

"I cannot believe you've lived in this state all your life and you've never done a whirlwind tour of the best Boston has to offer."

"Well, you know, I've never actually wanted to know where all the porn stores are."

"Not porn!" Nicole laughed. "Tasteful sex shops. You never know when you're going to need banana flavored massage oil in your life."

"Actually, I feel safe in saying that I'll never need banana flavored massage oil."

"You say that now." Nicole opened the bag and fished out a small bottle that she threw at Joey. "But it never hurts to be prepared."

Joey laughed. "This is mango."

"I improvised. They were out of banana."

"What else did you buy?"

"You mean while you pretended you didn't know me?" Nicole dumped the bag on her bed as Joey moved to join her. "Well, we have," Nicole held up another small bottle. "A bottle of cinnamon oil. Heats up when you blow on it."

"Doesn't do much good if you're on your own."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I have any intention of using it all by myself?" Joey blushed as Nicole picked up a thin box. "A slimline vibrator."

"The box says foot massager."

"Yeah. Right." Nicole nodded, wide-eyed and innocent. "That's what it's for." She set it aside. "Silk ropes."

"So, I'm not actually going to get to spend any time in our room, am I?"

"Lubricant."

"Should I just stake out the couch in the common room now?"

"The infamous beaver vibrator."

"It's shaped like a log…" Joey shook her head, not willing to say anymore. "Will they let me move my dresser out there, do you think?"

"Clitoral stimulator."

"Or maybe you should just actually get a single room."

"What makes you think this is for me?" Nicole looked through her bangs at Joey, smiling widely. "I bought this stuff for you."

"Oh no you didn't."

"Sure." Nicole snapped open the package and slapped the beaver vibrator into Joey's hand. "You look like you could use a good orgasm."

"Nicole!" Joey flushed, her whole face a brilliant red. She dropped the vibrator onto the bed. "That's not…I don't…" She shook her head violently. "Oh my God."

Nicole laughed, lying back on the bed. "Lighten up, Joey Potter." She turned her head so that she could look at her roommate. "I don't expect you to use it when I'm around."

"I…"

Nicole sat up and leaned closer. "I'm kidding. This is all part of a traditional freshman practical joke."

"It is?"

"Sure." Nicole gathered up the stuff and placed it back in the bag. "Which doesn't mean I don't really believe you could use a good orgasm."

Drue slammed his bedroom door open and stalked toward the front of the apartment. "All right, you lazy-ass bitch," he mumbled under his breath as his mother shrieked at him from her bedroom at the end of the hall. "I'll get the door."

He swung it open and froze, his expression darkening. "What do you want?"

Jack looked him in the eye before breaking the gaze. "I want to talk to you about Jen."

"Interesting. Since that's probably the one topic that I think you and I should just stay the hell away from." As Jack started to say something, Drue smirked. "Of course, you've shown that very little keeps you the hell away from Jen."

"I was hoping we could talk about this. About what happened."

"I saw what happened."

"No. You saw part of what happened."

"Oh, darn." Drue leaned against the door, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "What'd I miss? You actually sticking your cock up her ass while you were pretending she was some faceless guy?"

"I'm not going to bother if you're not going to listen." Jack shrugged and took a step backwards, as if none of it mattered to him. "I mean, if you're willing to throw away something like what Jen feels for you, just because of something you think you saw…"

"Your hand was buried in her pussy, Jack. Your dick was pressed up against her ass. Her hand was wrapped around your cock. What exactly do you think I think I saw?"

"You think you saw this elaborately planned seduction. You think you saw this mutual desire, you think…"

"Are you trying to tell me that Jen didn't want it? That you forced her? Tricked her?" Drue's voice remained calm, his eyes flat and cold. "It was all one-sided? Is that what you're telling me, Jack?"

"I can't tell you that."

"I know you can't. Because I know that she wanted it. I know that she wants your cock inside her. I know she wants to fuck you." He shrugged and started to shut the door. "Which is why there's nothing you can say that will make a difference."

"She loves you."

The door stopped moving just before it shut. Drue shook his head, telling himself to just let the lock click into place. Instead, he opened the door again and looked Jack in the eye. "What?"

"Maybe she doesn't know it yet, and maybe she's afraid of it. Maybe she's scared because she doesn't like the person she was back in New York and she's afraid that you're still the person she knew back there, or you think she is. Maybe she's just afraid of being hurt. I don't know. But I know that she cried more on that trip across country than I've ever seen her cry. And I know that as much as she loves me, she knows that she and I can't be anything more than friends."

"That must be a damper on your sex life."

Jack took a quick swing, the left hook catching Drue by surprise. He stood there for a second then took his own swing, hearing the solid thump as it hit Jack's nose. "You son of a…" Jack shoved Drue's right shoulder as he grabbed his left arm, taking him down to the floor. Drue lay there face down, his arm behind his back, Jack straddling him.

"I'm really not your type," Drue huffed as Jack's weight settled on him.

"Just shut up and listen. She thought I was you when I got in that bed, Drue. She thought I was you coming home and she asked me how dinner was, but I was so wrapped up in my own trauma that I took advantage of the situation and made her make a decision she was in no shape to make."

"She knows how to say no."

"Imagine that something you've wanted for a long time suddenly happened. Imagine this beautiful blonde who you have these amazing feelings for suddenly seems to reciprocate them. Now, pretend it's not happening." Jack watched Drue's face change. "Jen and I have something special. I'm not going to deny it and I'm going to tell you right now that it's not going to go away. But…but she likes you. She thinks about you, she dreams about you and she misses the hell out of you."

"You can leave any time now."

"She's an amazing girl, Drue. She deserves a hell of a lot better than you."

"You really need to go."

Jack heard the threat in his voice, heard his tone change, deepen. "But you're who she wants, right now, in the end. No pun intended." Jack stepped back and held onto the doorknob, tugging it closed behind him. "So don't fuck up your chances."

Joey stared at the phone, holding the receiver in her hand, one finger pressing the button down. The message light continued to blink and she was tempted to push it again, listen to his voice wonder where she was, what she was doing. As long as she was listening to the message, she didn't have to worry about anything. Didn't have to think about school starting soon, the weekend just past, about Pacey, about anything.

Her life was about to start for real, and all she wanted to do was listen to Dawson's message and not move forward, not move back. Just stay right where she was.

Instead the dial tone buzzed in her ear and she pressed the numbers for Dawson's cell phone. He picked up immediately and she couldn't help but smile. "Hey, Jo."

"How do you always know it's me?"

"Well, my phone tells me, for one thing. And you're the only one who has this number, to be honest."

"What about your parents?"

"They don't call. They email, which is infinitely worse because they write these huge missives, all of which have these important questions laced throughout so that I have to actually read each and every one. Because I never know if Mom's going to ask me about money between the ramblings about Lily's spit up."

"Wow. You've got quite the exciting life going on there. I haven't heard about spit-up in ages."

"I can fill you in, if you'd like?"

"Nah. I think I'll pass." She laughed and carried the phone over to the chair. "So, what's up?"

"Nothing much. What about you? How did the big orientation go?"

"Insanely boring. But my roommate is wonderful. Completely deranged, but in a good way. A fun way. I helped her tour Boston's sex shops and then pull off a prank on the Dean of Admissions. When they have to Board of Trustees meeting, he's going to be slightly surprised."

"Little Joey Potter pulling practical jokes?"

"Hey, this from the guy who denies any involvement in the scandal that placed Principal Peskin's dog and boat in the middle of the school pool?"

"I was cleared of all charges."

"Sweet, little, innocent you."

"Not so innocent."

"What?" Her eyebrows furrowed together and she shifted the receiver to her other ear. "Did I just hear a confession out of you, Mr. Leery? Because I think there is some serious cello music awaiting you if that was the case."

"I didn't confess, Joey. I just said I wasn't quite as innocent as I made myself out to be." Dawson sighed.

"Is everything okay, Dawson?"

Silence sputtered on the end of the phone and the sudden knock on the door caused Joey to jump. She walked over to it and swung it open, dropping her own phone as she saw Dawson standing there. "Hey."

"So you had a good time this past weekend?" Joey nodded. Dawson snapped his phone shut and smiled slightly. "Can I come in?"

She nodded again, dumbfounded. Dawson took a step forward then put his arm on her shoulder, guiding her out of the doorway. As soon as he was inside, he picked her phone off the floor and hung it up. "D…Dawson?"

"The one and only." He turned and sat on the edge of the small table the phone and guest book sat on. "I'm not in Southern California anymore."

"So I see." She blinked and tilted her head. "Why are you home? I thought I was free of you until at least Christmas."

"We had a break…I wanted to see my little sister before she was suddenly five years old or something. And, of course, I wanted to be insulted by you in person."

"You're tanned…sort of."

"I spent a few weeks in the sun shooting. It's like a farmer's tan only with a director's chair."

"You got your own chair?"

"It was on loan from the department. I think it said 'fresh meat' on the back of it." He looked around the room. "The place looks nice. You guys have made some improvements."

"Business has been good." She shook her head. "What the hell are you doing here, Dawson? Not that I don't appreciate that you came to see me or that you're home on a short vacation or something, but I just…I'm floored. You never mentioned…"

"Can we talk someplace? Somewhere private?"

"Sure." She looked over her shoulder. "My room?"

"No. Uh…no. How about on the creek?" He gestured toward the door. "Take the boat out and just talk for a while?"

"Dawson? Is everything okay?"

"No." He shook his head. "It's really not."

Pacey bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around at the well-manicured lawn before raising his hand to knock on the white door. It swung open and he found himself face to face with the butler. "Uh…Jeeves?"

"No. Roberts. But nice guess." He smiled. "You must be Mister Witter?"

"Yeah, but leave the mister off, okay? Just Pacey will suffice."

"Right. Right this way." He turned smartly and Pacey fell in step behind him, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked, careful to stay in the middle of the corridor and away from the precariously placed objects'de art that lined the walls. "Dean Newman is expecting you."

"I would hope so. I'd hate to have come all this way for nothing." Roberts shook his head slightly as Pacey caught up to him. "Do I really have to walk behind you? Because I will if it'll cost you your job or something, but I feel really uncomfortable with the whole servant type thing."

"Imagine how I feel." He stopped and rested his hand lightly on the doorknob of a set of lush, cherry wood doors. "The study."

"Right."

Roberts swung open the door. "Mr. Witter, sir."

"Thanks, Tom." Dean Newman waved Pacey over to the long table that dominated the room. "Hey, Pace."

"Dean Newman."

"Cut the crap, kid. We sailed the freakin' Caribbean together. Call me Roger. I won't tell you again."

"Different world here than the one on the boat."

"True enough." He looked up from the paperwork that he had spread out around him. "I'm guessing that idiot Valentine got the message to you?"

"Drue delivered it in typical Drue style."

"His mother's quite the whore, but she's a decent delivery service." He gestured to the window behind him, the sunlight streaming in on the plush blue carpet. "You like my house?"

"It's…nice?"

"Part of the job. Also part of the job is making sure that the house and the campus stay in a certain state of repair." He pushed a paper in front of Pacey who still stood at the edge of the table. "I have a lot of autonomy here, Pacey. In hiring and firing."

"I see." He placed one finger on the paper, pulling it closer to him, but still not glancing at it. "Well, actually, I don't think I do. Are you offering me a job, Dea…Roger?"

"That I am."

"And this is some sort of contract?"

"An agreement, yes. The rules of your employment, the perks: pay, benefits, that sort of thing. You won't be working for me; you'll be working for the campus. At least, that's the direct line. Indirectly, I suggested you for this job. And if you let me down…I don't think I need to mention how much of a disappointment that would be for everyone."

"No, sir. I don't think you do."

The dean rolled a pen across the desk and it stopped squarely in the center of the paper. "Just sign your name then, Pacey. And we'll be back in business."

Pacey picked up the pen, heavy and inlaid with gold. "Nice pen."

"You like it?"

"It's nice." Pacey signed the sheet of paper and pushed it and the pen back to the dean.

He got out of his chair and walked it over to the copy machine, making a duplicate for Pacey, which he handed him before shaking his hand. "It's been a pleasure doing pleasure with you, Pacey. I hope business is the same." He patted Pacey on the shoulder then slid the pen in his shirt pocket. "Keep it."

"I can't…"

"You start next Monday. Meet me in my office on campus. I'll introduce you to your supervisor."

Joey sighed and brought her knees up closer to her body, resting her elbows on them. She looked around at the scenery, wondering how many times in her life she'd seen the same sight. And how different it would seem after she was gone.

"What are you thinking?"

"You tell me."

"You're thinking that, after another summer trapped here in Capeside, you can't wait to get away?"

"Sort of the opposite, actually. I was wondering how nostalgic for it I'd be after I was gone. That's one of my biggest fears, you know? That I'll get out of Capeside, just like I've always wanted and I'll find out that Capeside is exactly where I want to be."

"You're dreams are bigger than this town, Joey."

"I still don't know what exactly my dreams are, Dawson. I mean, they keep changing. One minute, I'm a film producer, the next I'm an artist. The next I'm a sailor and then…then I'm going to college. Sometimes they've been my dreams, sometimes they've been extensions of someone else's dreams. Who knows what my dreams going to be when I start school next week?"

He shrugged and pulled the oars from the water, resting the handles on his upper thighs. "I want to talk to you about California."

"Did you bring me a present?"

"I…it's not with me. It's kind of important, what I have to say."

Joey tilted her head and looked at him, her expression serious. "What's wrong, Dawson?"

"You know what? Never mind."

"Dawson." She reached out and put her hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly. "Just tell me. You can tell me anything."

He gave her a half smile, "I hated California."

"I knew that."

"I'm not going back. At least not this year."

"But…"

"I can't do it. Not until I work through some stuff…film stuff and life stuff and other stuff that I really don't think I'm ready to get into just yet."

"Okay." She nodded and leaned back, releasing his hand. He moved slightly, trying to prolong the contact, but not forcing the issue. "But you know I'm here for you when you are, right?"

"Yeah." He smiled sadly. "Jo?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you like hell."

"I missed you, too." She smiled her half-smile, making a goofy face afterwards. "Although it's a chore trying to miss someone who keeps calling you and calling you instead of going out and having a good time in the City of Angels."

"Well…"

"Did you do one thing that was an adventure while you were out there, Dawson?" He stared at her as she kept talking, watching her mouth move. She shifted in her seat and he no longer heard her, wondering instead what it would have been like to have her above him, straddling him. Wondering how he'd made her first time. Wondering what they'd done together, if she'd ever straddled Pacey, if she'd ever gone down on him. He could picture her, her mouth open, her lips wrapped around Pacey's cock around his cock, on his knees, begging for mercy…

"Fuck!"

Joey's eyes snapped open wider and she leaned in toward him. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Dawson tried to smile, wrapping his shaking hands tightly around the oars. "I forgot…forgot something… I have to do. Something."

"Ooo…kay." He forced a smile to his lips and started rowing. "You never told me."

"What?"

"If you had a good time. Had an adventure. Or, something."

"I did. I went to Disneyland. Rode the…ride there."

"You stayed in your room, didn't you?"

"No. Not always."

She sighed. "Dawson, I thought you were going to go out there and have a life? Get out of the bedroom of your house and do something different."

"I was. I did. I'm not the same guy I was when I left, Jo. I promise." He pulled the boat up to the dock and watched her climb out. "You'll see." He started to row again, this time heading for his house.

"Dawson! What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" He called back.

"If you're not in school?"

"Let's just say I'll see you in Boston."

Nicole walked up the path, stopping as she heard a car heading down the driveway. She cut through the grass and leaned against the trunk of a huge oak as it rumbled past. "I see you're home." She looked over at her mother, stepping off the porch and heading in her direction. "I have you to thank, I suppose, for the surprises the trustees found in their welcome baskets?"

"I have no idea whatsoever as to what you might be talking about, Mother."

"I'm sure you don't." She turned on her heel and headed back toward the house, knowing that Nicole would follow her. "Pity you missed our lunch guest."

"Yeah? Which boring socialite did I avoid this time?"

"Actually, it was Pacey Witter. The young man from the boat."

"I know who Pacey Witter is."

"I'm well aware of that, darling." Victoria faced her daughter once more. "He's moving to Boston, you know."

"Is he?"

"Yes. He's got a new…job." Victoria smiled. "I convinced your father we needed someone dependable around the house. And, of course, the campus."

"Of course." Nicole bit the words out.

"I think I'll have him start in my bedroom. It really does need to be repainted, don't you think?"

"I'm sure you've got a brush or two he can use." She smirked at her mother. "Of course, he might not like what he sees when he strips the old paint away, don't you think?"

"He didn't seem to mind when he was invited up here. He seemed quite content with what was offered to him." Victoria smiled, tilting her head slightly, her eyes crinkling with concern. "Darling, you didn't fancy him, did you? Certainly I couldn't allow you to date someone with so little regard for you."

"Hard to have regard for me when my mother's doing her level best to get him between her thighs."

"There's no cause to beat yourself up over the fact that he likes a more mature woman." She stopped speaking as Dean Newman walked out onto the porch.

"Ah, my two favorite ladies."

"Daddy? Is it true that you're going to hire Pacey to work here on campus?"

"Done and done, sweetie."

"And did you decide this?"

"Well, your mother suggested it to me."

"And Pacey's agreed?"

"Yes. What's wrong, sweetie? I thought you liked him."

"Pacey's fine. He's great." Nicole refused to look at her mother as she kissed her father's cheek. "I'll be in my room."

Dawson looked up from his desk at the knock on his door, surprised. "Nice tan."

"I ran into your mom downtown. In between her glowing reviews of your summer film masterpieces, she mentioned you were home." Pacey leaned against the door until Dawson waved him in. Gesturing to his tan, he shrugged. "It's no USC summer program, but at least I accomplished something, yeah?"

"Well," Dawson leaned back in his desk chair as Pacey sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't know how much of an accomplishment USC was."

"Not what you expected?"

"You remember when you and I pulled off that filming coup during Cliff Elliot's movie? And I was like the star of the show?"

"Yeah." Pacey slid back so that he was leaning against the headboard. "It was, admittedly, not the highlight of my sophomore year, but I do have a vague recollection."

"This summer was nothing like that."

"Bad?"

"The first day was okay. We screened fifteen minutes from everyone's submission film. The Brooks documentary went over well."

"And after the first day?"

"Ridicule, humiliation, degradation and the mind-numbing realization that maybe, just maybe, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"I don't believe that."

Dawson turned his chair and faced Pacey, propping his feet up on the mattress. "Yeah, right," he smirked. "Anyway, I'm thinking that maybe I'm not cut out for USC."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about taking the Andie route and deferring college for a year."

"Dude, if you're going to run off to Europe, at least do it in Polanski style where you're fleeing from prosecution."

"Actually, I thought I'd just run to Boston." Dawson shrugged. He stared at the spot just to the left of Pacey, not wanting to focus on him. "Before he died, Mr. Brooks apparently wrote to someone he knew in the industry and recommended me. The guy called and offered me an internship with his film company. Mostly grunt work, but I'll be learning it all from the ground up."

Pacey looked skeptical. "You think you can handle being the peon?"

"I went back to the beginning with Mr. Brooks."

"You were still directing though," Pacey reminded him. "Not fetching coffee."

Dawson glanced over at his computer then back toward Pacey. He was looking at him, his blue eyes curious. "I couldn't hack it, Pace."

"College isn't for everyone." Crossing his tanned legs at the ankles, Pacey laced his fingers together and slid his hands behind his head. "Trust me on that one."

Dawson closed his eyes, not wanting to see Pacey as he stretched out, relaxed. Swallowing hard, he stared at the words that trailed across his computer screen. "How was your summer?"

"Too short," Pacey admitted. "And too long."

The air in the room seemed to tighten. Dawson dropped his feet back to the floor and rested his elbows on his knees. "Have you seen her?"

"No."

"Any plans to?"

"No." Pacey's face lost all expression. "Joey and I are through. There's really no point in rehashing it. Some wounds…some wounds are better without salt in them."

Dawson smiled as he cast another quick glance at his laptop then closed it. He looked over toward the window without thinking.

"It's habit to expect her to climb in there, huh? Even after all this time?"

Dawson didn't say anything for a few minutes, wisely leaving the question in the silence between them. "So, why did you come? Not that it isn't great to see you…"

"Well, I guess…" Pacey shrugged, knowing that they both knew the reason he was there was the girl not climbing in the window. With a quick smile, he improvised. "It's about Boston."

"You're going to have to unvague that just a little, Pace."

Pacey sighed. "Jack and Jen are moving into some house or apartment with Jen's grandmother. Joey's completely out of the question for about a million reasons, and I don't think that the Drue situation needs any further explanation."

"Actually, if you want any kind of coherent response from me, you're going to have to give me more to work with."

"The Dean of Admissions at Worthington, the guy I sailed for this summer?" When Dawson nodded, he went on. "He recommended me for a position at the University. Some handyman type job taking care of the rowing crew stuff and some landscaping detail. But, I get the option of taking some free classes in addition to my pay. I start next week."

"That's great, Pace."

"But Boston ain't cheap."

"No…"

"And the job doesn't pay that much."

Dawson laughed, the sound a little hollow, a little desperate. "You want a roommate?" Living with Pacey. One small apartment, hearing him, seeing him, constantly there. Dawson closed his eyes, hearing Angela's voice.

"Well, not just a room." Pacey smiled a little nervously. "I was thinking we could actually go for the whole apartment. Unless…unless there's someone else you're already rooming with."

"I was in California all summer, Pace."

"Not all summer." Pacey reminded him without thinking, hearing Drue's taunts in his head. "Besides, you knew exactly what I was talking about."

"You're not exactly subtle." Dawson glanced toward the window again. "When I left for California, she was still in love with you."

Pacey nodded, not meeting Dawson's eyes. "Joey's not the point."

"Unless she and I have formed some weird plan to cohabitate, that is."

"Right."

"Which we haven't." Dawson tapped his fingers on the arms of his desk chair, glancing at the closed cover of his laptop before turning to watch Pacey as he looked around the room, his eyes never straying to the window. "You don't think we'd have some strong desire to kill each other about two weeks into it?"

"I lived with Gretchen for a full year and saw her about ten minutes a day, if that."

"How is she?"

"Good. She's in school again. Made up some of the credits she lost while she was back here in Capeside. And she's staying away from the typical frat boys that she always found so attractive for some weird reason that no one in nature can quite fathom."

"And I assume she's staying away from any recent high school graduates as well?"

"Pretty much. Although she did ask about you. And she told me to be nice to you."

"Well, tell her I appreciate her looking out for me, but I'm capable of taking care of myself."

"Bullshit." Pacey got off the bed and headed for the door. "A tsetse fly could take you in a fight, Dawson."

"As I recall, you're the one who walked away from our last two physical altercations with two black eyes and a busted lip."

"The first time you threw a basketball at me. And the second I was drunk off my ass."

"Well then." Dawson stood up and met Pacey's annoyed gaze. On his knees. Begging for mercy. The gun in his mouth. "I guess I'll know to keep booze and a baseball bat handy for whenever you're late with the rent."

Joey sighed and sank down onto the bench, setting her bags down beside her. She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to her temples.

"It's a tough decision, isn't it? I mean," Jack smiled at her as she opened one eye to look at him. "Even more difficult and potentially heartbreaking than the whole Pacey and Dawson thang."

"What are you talking about?" She couldn't help but smile, provoked by his impish grin.

"School supplies. I mean, who do you choose? 'N sync or the Backstreet Boys? I mean, you have to commit. You can't go around putting Backstreet Boys folders in an 'N sync binder. It just isn't done."

"Is that the vast knowledge you acquired on your cross-country trip?"

"No. This is cultural knowledge, Jo. Ingrained in us all at the R-brain level."

"Wow." She blinked rapidly. "So on our most primal level, we're either Backstreet Boys fans or 'N sync fans?"

"Yeah."

"That's the most compelling argument I've ever heard for the destruction of the human race."

"I'm thinking about using it as my basic tenet when I try and take over the world."

"With your armies of screaming teenage girls?"

"Never underestimate the power of a high-pitched squeal and a young girl's first orgasmic experience." Jack picked up his drink from between his legs on the bench and took a drink. "I'll be more powerful than anyone. Ever. Even the Beatles."

"Just promise me you'll use your powers for good."

"Mostly."

"Close enough." Joey held out her hand. Jack gave her his drink and she took a sip. "So, who did you pick?"

"'N sync. Have you seen JC?"

Joey laughed. "Please, please tell me that you're kidding?"

"About buying the stuff? Yeah. About JC? No way. He's lickable."

"You're a sad, strange, young man, Jack McPhee."

"What about you?"

"Christina Aguilera. I've got a thing for drag queens." She got up and grabbed her bags. "Wanna walk me home?"

"Well," he took two of the bags from her hands. "I'm no drag queen…"

"You're probably the closest I'll find in Capeside though, huh?"

"Damn, I knew there was something I forgot to put on my college application." They walked in silence for a little while. "So, how was your summer?"

"Uneventful, for the most part. I had a run-in or two with Mrs. Valentine, mostly because she didn't have Drue to pick on. I got fired and quit all at once after I practically broke some lecher's finger when he pinched my ass. But other than that? Same old Capeside, I'm afraid."

"Anyone famous stay at the B&B in an effort to get away from the real world for a while?"

"Yeah. Josh Hartnett. He fell totally in love with me. I was his trashy, small town, summer romance."

"Eh, too pretty boy for me."

"Ah. I see. You like them rugged now, do you?" She watched his face fall, immediately regretting her words. "I'm sorry. I know you're probably missing Tobey…" She gasped as Jack looked sick, stumbling toward the railing that traced the water's edge. "Jack?"

He stared down at the water, the reeds wrapping around the pilings, trash floating along the surface. Joey put her hand on his back, the tips of her fingers curling over his shoulder.

"Jack? Are you okay?"

"Not really, no." His voice was thick, squeezed through threatening tears.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." He ran his thumb along the railing, his nail digging into the soft wood.

"Okay." She moved her hand, rubbing his back to comfort him.

"Tobey hates me." He said the words softly, sadly. "And he has every reason and every right."

"Jack?" Joey slid her hand up and gripped his shoulder, turning him to face her. "Why don't we go somewhere and talk?"

Jack stared down into his coffee mug with the same sorrow he'd shown the creek. "You know, being…being gay is hard. Not just because of the idiots out there that hate you or fear you. Those kinds of things are easy. Maybe you get teased, or ridiculed, or ignored, or mistreated, or beaten up - but those things you understand. It's not about you, it's about how people see you."

Joey nodded, but didn't speak, afraid she might stop him. "But when you're gay? A lot of times, those other people aren't the only ones that feel that way. Sometimes, you feel that way and you hate being gay. And then, even when you're not hating yourself, you're finding that these other gay people are mad at you because you're not gay enough. Like you took the gay test and scored too low to really be gay."

"Or you're not acting gay or being a gay role model." He picked up his spoon and let it sink into the dark liquid. "Tobey wanted me to be out and proud and aware and comfortable. But I'm not. I'm scared and lonely and unsure. I don't know how to be gay."

"Jack?" Joey said his name softly, not speaking again until he looked at her, his skin blotchy with tears. "Are you gay?"

"What?"

"Seriously. Are you gay?"

"Yes…yes."

"There is no knowing how to be gay, Jack. There's just being gay. No test, no required gay antics. In fact, I'm pretty sure that you can be gay even if you never sleep with someone of the same sex."

"I don't want to be that drastic, Jo." He managed a small smile. "Maybe I'm just not gay enough."

"Now there's a required percentage?" Joey shook her head. "You have to be the person you are, Jack. Nothing else. You don't have to be anything else for anyone else. Just be you."

"Me hasn't been enough the past two times."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right guy yet. It's pretty rare to find them on the first try. Sometimes it takes a lot of trying to get it right." She smiled a half-smile. "Trust me on that one, huh?"

Jack nodded, still not convinced. "I thought you and Dawson were soulmates."

"Yeah. And I thought Pacey was the love of my life. Maybe we're both wrong, huh?"

Jen opened the door. "We don't need any vacuums, luggage, carpet cleaners or to hear the world of God. In fact, the only thing we might be remotely interested in is sex toys."

"Why does that not surprise me in the slightest?" Drue's voice was cool, a layer of frost on the words. "Maybe a nice strap-on to complete the image?"

"You're not the Mormons."

"Not on Thursday."

"Or the Jehovah's Witnesses."

"They gave me the night off."

"Or the…"

"I get the drift. Not who you expected, right? Or were you being too subtle and I missed what you were going for?"

"No. No. That was it." She bit her lip and furrowed her brow, trying to think. "You want…you want to come in?"

"To Jack's house? No thanks."

"Right." She nodded. "I could come out. Onto the porch."

"I didn't think you meant anything else by it. Unless your attraction has expanded from male homosexuals to just anyone with a predilection for same-sex lovin'." He shook his head. "This is a monumentally bad idea in a long string of them. I'm going to go."

Jen watched wordlessly as he walked down the stairs. "Wait."

Drue stopped but didn't turn around. "What?"

"Maybe we could go for a walk? Or a drive?" She shut the door behind her and walked to the edge of the steps. "Please?"

He stood there without moving, his shoulders hunched until he shrugged them. "I've got my mom's car. Come on."

They sat on the hood of the car, staring out at the water. Jen's knees were drawn up to her chin, her hair hiding her face from the few casual glances Drue cast in her direction. She finally turned her head and looked at him, focusing on the cut in his lip. "What happened there?"

"Nothing."

There was a long pause, followed by Jen's quiet sigh. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged the words off and forced his body to relax. He stretched his legs and leaned back on his elbows. "Nothing to be sorry for. I was presumptuous in assuming fucking me once meant you liked me." He shrugged again. "Although, I will admit to being confused by the subsequent fuckings. The only way I've been able to justify those is by reminding myself that I'm an excellent lay."

"Drue…"

"Which I am, you have to admit."

"Yes," Jen sighed. "You are."

He nodded and slid off the car, walking toward the water's edge. "So, see? No harm, no foul."

"So you're fine? No residual feelings - hurt or otherwise?"

"Nope."

She closed her eyes. "So why did you leave in California? Why not stay and ride back with us?"

"I figured you two wanted some time alone. To, you know, seal the deal? Finish the job? Fuck."

"So you were merely thinking of us."

"Yep."

"No selfish motives at all."

He picked up a rock and skipped it across the creek's surface. "Nope."

"So, under the impression that I was your girlfriend, you walked in on me and another guy…"

"Jack."

"On me and Jack - and it doesn't bother you?"

"Oh, it did," he admitted. "But, like I explained, once I figured out that I'd misunderstood the nature of our relationship, I was fine."

"What if you didn't? Misunderstand?"

"Well, then I'd have a hell of a lot of shit to be pissed off about, wouldn't I?"

She flinched at the hard tone of his voice, watching him as he glanced back at her quickly, his blue eyes unreadable. "So, maybe we should decide?"

"Decide what?"

"Whether or not you have a right or…or a reason to be pissed?"

"I've already decided."

"But you came to see me."

"To let you know that I'd decided. So you didn't have to worry, or think you'd hurt me or anything."

"What if I want you to reconsider your decision?"

His voice was quiet, deeper somehow. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I don't want to try again, try to have a relationship with you while pretending this never happened, even though we'd both know it was between us. I'd rather deal with it, work through it, so that," she slid off the car and took a few steps toward him, "the next time you feel like proving you're an excellent lay, we'd both be coming from the same place."

"That's what you want?" He looked skeptical. "A relationship?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"My desires were never in question, Lindley."

She nodded. "Right. I deserve that."

"You know something else? Surprisingly? I didn't deserve what I got." He faced her now, his hurt plain in his expression. "And I sure as hell didn't expect it, although I guess I should have. The warning signs were all there, but I honestly thought that, as many times as you've been hurt, that you wouldn't do that to someone, even me. I thought that maybe being involved with someone, even as tentatively as we were, you could manage to keep your legs closed."

She stiffened at his words, but didn't say anything.

"I know," he went on, holding up his hand as if she'd tried to speak. "It's just Jack. You two have this special connection. Well, fuck that, honey. The only special connection you have is that you want to fuck him and he can't get it up for you, so you're his 'trying not to be a fag'-hag."

"Are you done?"

"With you? Yeah. Pretty much."

Jen swallowed and took another step closer. "Then you can shut the fuck up and listen to me. Jack's my best friend. Yes, he's got some issues with his sexuality and, yes, what we did was wrong." Drue started to speak and she glared at him to keep him silent. "We hurt people that we cared about and we hurt one another. But Jack and I are, when it all comes down to it, friends. Best friends. And *that* is our special connection, and it's not going to go away. I hope not ever."

"Then I'd say we're done." Drue walked past her, heading to the car.

"But that doesn't have anything to do with how I feel about you."

He stopped, his hand wrapped around the door handle as he looked at her. "And how's that?"

"I had a dream about us."

"Yeah? Did we live happily ever after, have a house, a dog and 2.5 kids?"

"No. I was tied down to this bed and you were touching me and kissing me." She walked up behind him and leaned against his back, her hands on his hips. "And I was thrashing around as much as I could, begging you…"

"I don't need a sex partner." He said brusquely, his voice not masking the effect her words had on him. He removed her hands from his waist, wanting to completely push her away. "They're a dime a dozen. Sometimes cheaper."

"I'm sorry, Drue. Sorry we hurt you. Sorry I hurt you. I like you. Care about you. I want to be with you. I want to spend time with you. I want to make love with you. I want to act like a stupid teenage girl and write 'D.V and J.L' inside a heart. I want to scribble our names all over the margins of my class notes. I want…"

"Shut up. You're provoking my gag reflex." He turned slowly and leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled as Jen's eyes darted down to the bulge in his jeans before settling on his face, her own smile pleased.

"That's not all I'm provoking."

"I need to know that this thing with Jack is over."

"Our friendship?"

"Right. Because I think you're gonna pick me over that." Drue smirked. "The sex thing. Dealt with, resolved. Never to be seen or heard from again."

"It is. I promise."

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"I'll give it some thought."

"You'll what?" Her arms crossed over her chest in a duplicate of his pose.

"I'll consider it." He got in the car and rolled down the window. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

Jen stormed around to her side of the car, pausing just out of his line of sight for a few moments before climbing in.

"Everything okay?"

"Peachy."

Drue shifted the car into reverse and pulled out onto the road, his arm along the back of the seat as he stared over his shoulder. He turned around to slip the car into drive and froze, his hand hovering over the gear shift, his gaze locked on the pair of pale, blue panties that dangled from it.

Jen slid over and straddled his thighs, her skirt around her waist. She leaned against him as she unfastened his jeans, her breath hot on his neck. "Wha'cha thinkin'?"

Drue didn't respond except to lift his hips as she tugged his jeans down his thighs. Jen pulled away from him as he settled back on the seat, his cock hard and trapped between them, covered by the flimsy material of her long skirt.

She reached into his bunched up jeans and fished out his wallet. Drue took it from her, glad to have something to do with his hands as he fumbled for the condom. Jen caught it as he dropped it; opening the package and tossing it aside as she pushed her skirt back and stared at his cock.

He could feel blood rushing through him, pulsing beneath his skin as she slid the condom on, then raised up onto her knees and buried him up inside her. She sat there, her breath hot wherever it touched him. "What are you thinking, Drue?"

A horn blared as a car swerved around them, startling them both. "I think I need to drive."

"Go ahead," she told him with a hungry smile. "Drive the automatic. I'll handle the stick."

"Jen, I can't…"

She moved her body sinuously, the muscles surrounding his cock clenching. "You want me to stop?"

"No," he squeaked, reaching out and shifting into drive, pressing his foot to the gas pedal and forcing his shaky hands to guide them down the road as Jen rolled her hips, fucking him slowly.

Her breasts were against his chest, the nipples rubbing slightly with the sway of the car, of her body. He stared over her shoulder at the road, blinking rapidly to force his eyes to stay open as she moved slowly, deliberately, every muscle contraction running along the entire length of his cock. Her hips met his stomach as she moved, her concentration focused.

"You feel so good inside me, Drue." She started moving slightly faster as another horn blared and another car passed them. As he moaned, Drue put more pressure on the gas pedal, forcing the car up to 25.

"So hard and thick." Now she was moving in earnest, sliding along his cock with smooth thrusts, barely disturbing his view of the road.

"So deep." She bit at his neck and Drue's hips came off the seat, the car lurching forward faster.

Jen unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it open. She leaned back just enough to give Drue a view of her bare breasts, the nipples peaked and hard. Her back brushed his wrists and his knuckles went white as he clenched the steering wheel tighter.

40.

He bent his head, tilting it slightly so he could still see the road as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, squeezing it with suction as her body continued to move over his, around his cock.

Jen's hand moved to the breast he wasn't touching, playing with the other nipple, just at the edge of his peripheral vision. He groaned into her skin, his hips moving with hers now, his palms sweaty on the vinyl steering wheel.

50.

"In my dream, I was tied down. And you started at my feet. Sucking my toes, nibbling on them. Then, you kissed your way up my legs." Jen's voice was breathy and slow, a word or two with every stroke as they sped down the road. Drue no longer sucked at her nipple, instead flicking his tongue over the sensitive tip at random intervals, just to hear her gasp.

"And then you moved up my stomach to my breasts then down to my fingers," she caught her breath as one of his hands left the steering wheel and burrowed under her skirt to find her clit.

60.

"And then, when I thought I was going to scream, you fi…finally…" soft hiccups of desire and pleasure shot through her as she came, his fingers wet as he touched her. "Slid…oh God…slid…Drue…fuck…" her body went stiff as the orgasm ripped through her.

80.

"Fuck…me…your tongue…God, yes. Oh…" She was moving over him now, fast and hard and intent, her nails digging into his body as she kept coming, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. "And…my clit…Oh. Oh." She cried out wordlessly, her body like a vice around his cock. He pushed up inside her as he came, his whole body shaking, the gas pedal to the floor.

120.

And a siren.

Drue pulled his foot of the gas as Jen practically fell of him, her body too spent to do much more than slump in the seat. He gave up on his jeans, barely getting them pulled up as he forced the car to the side of the road.

His shirt barely covered his open fly and he could feel the condom leaking as he unrolled his window. He fumbled on the seat for his wallet, groaning when he had to reach under Jen's body to find it and her whole body shivered as a result of his touch.

"Well, well. Drue Valentine."

"Deputy Witter." Drue tried to smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I clocked you at 120. In a 40-mile-an-hour zone."

"That's going to be one hell of a fine."

Doug took Drue's license. "No seatbelts."

"Yeah."

"Should I even go into the reckless endangerment?" Doug bit the insides of his lips to keep from smiling as Jen shifted in her seat and Drue realized her breasts were exposed all at once.

"I really wish you wouldn't." He reached over and tugged on Jen's shirt to cover her, blushing a furious red as she cried out quietly, her hips lifting off the seat in an orgasmic aftershock, her hands both catching him at the wrist and bringing his hand up to cover her breast.

"Indecent exposure."

"She's really pretty decent," Drue stated, trying to tug his hand away.

"Miss Lindley?"

"Mmm?" She moved Drue's hand off her breast and down her stomach, heading lower as he snatched it back.

"Are you all right?"

"Mmm," she sighed and tried to sit up.

Doug forced his gaze back to Drue. "Well, the lady doesn't seem to be frightened, so we'll forget that charge."

"Thank you."

Doug tore off the ticket and handed it to Drue. "Do yourselves a favor and park next time? The fine for that is much cheaper."

Pacey turned the corner and ran directly into someone, his bag of groceries crashing to the ground. "Aw, shit."

"I'm sorry," she apologized immediately, both of them looking up as they recognized one another. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey." He found a small smile for her as they both bent to pick up the scattered food items.

"I…how was your summer?"

"Nice. Yours?"

"Quiet." She held out the last thing, a Three Musketeers bar. "The sailing? It was fun?"

"Yeah." He took the candy bar and unwrapped it, holding it out to her. She stared at it in something close to horror until he pulled it back, broke it in half and handed it to her. "Amazing. It's beautiful down there."

"And how was life amongst the well to do?"

"You'll find out soon, huh? School starts in less than a week, right?"

"We're moving my stuff this weekend." She shifted uncomfortably, nibbling the edge of her candy bar. "Bessie and Bodie are going to be thrilled to have the extra room. They can finally let Alexander be somewhere other than where they're trying to sleep."

"Good." He looked down at her, his eyes never leaving her face. She was staring back at him, holding his eyes, the soft sway coming naturally as she started to lean into him. Pacey took a step back. "So…"

"Where are you headed?"

"Doug's. He's been letting me crash on the couch again."

"That's nice."

"Yeah. He and I ending up something like friends, who would have thought that, huh?" He chuckled softly and she swallowed, turning slightly to fall into step with him as he started walking. They moved together without conscious thought, their bodies in rhythm. "I guess I have you to thank for it."

"Me?"

"Sure," he stopped and gestured with the candy bar to the wall they now stood in front of. There was a huge advertisement there now, new paint covering the old, covering his question, his demand. "He helped me through the Joey Potter portion of my life."

"Ah," she nodded sadly, remembering too much. "And that's over now, is it?"

And he remembered everything. "Isn't it?"

She nodded and shrugged all at once. "You broke up with me."

"I did." He smiled and finished off the candy, sucking chocolate from his fingers as he stared at the wall. He'd put his heart up there in paint, on brick, for the whole world to see. "You look good, Joey."

"So do you. Sailing agrees with you."

"Thanks. It's a rich man's hobby. I learned that this summer."

"You'll just have to end up a rich man then." She looked away from the wall at him, trying to decide which was harder. "I should get back to the B&B. I told Bessie I wouldn't be gone long."

"Right. Well, I'll see ya, Potter."

The sound of her name on his lips brought unwanted tears to her eyes. "At Thanksgiving?"

"Or Christmas. Sometime."

"Right." She nodded again, feeling foolish, as she backed away a couple of steps. "I guess this is goodbye then, huh? No more Joey Potter to kick around anymore?"

"That's okay. The verbal sparring took all my smarts out of me. Maybe without you around, I can achieve greatness."

"Did I hold you back?"

It was supposed to be taunting, teasing, like they used to be. Instead the question hung there in the air, stirring up words and lies and promises and pain. "Enjoy Worthington, Joey."

"I…I'll see ya, Pace. Good luck."

"With the groceries?"

"With whatever," she smiled, wanting to cry. "With everything."

He looked down at what they'd always called the requisite loaf of French bread that stuck out of his bag, trying to figure out what to say. Her name was on his lips when he looked up, wanting to ask her something, anything.

But she was gone.

08/02/01