Disclaimer: As you probably already know I do not own these characters. Please don’t sue.

Rating: NC-17

Author’s note: This section is being narrated by Joey.

Feedback: I’d love some! :) Good or bad, send it to allegras_world@yahoo.com

--Joey--

I enter his bedroom and wait a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly I begin to make out his figure. I watch as he shifts slightly on top of the covers where he lay sleeping. I smile, feeling a flutter of excitement shoot through me.

I silently pad across the hardwood floor, making my way towards his bed. He’s on his side, facing away from me. I can hear the quiet sound of his breathing as I carefully sit down beside him. Reaching my hand out, I gently run it down his hard, muscular back. He murmurs something under his breath, still peacefully sleeping. I lay down beside him, tenderly kissing the back of his neck as I snake my arm around his waist. It only takes a moment for him to awaken but he remains silent and still.

“I know you’re awake,” I whisper, nipping at his ear.

“How can you tell?”

“Just can,” I reply as he rolls onto his back.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“What do you think?”

I climb onto him, straddling his waist, and gently run my fingers down his chest. His eyes fall shut and a small moan escapes his lips.

“You like that?”

His eyes flicker back open and he gives me a devilish grin. His hands slide up my thighs and disappear under the thin cotton of my nightshirt. Simple little touches and already my insides are a quivering mass of jelly. I can tell he likes it though--the fact that his touch has such an immediate affect on me.

“Can we get rid of this?” he asks, tugging lightly on the shirt.

“I don’t know...” I murmur, my hand drifting down to the elastic waistband of his boxers, “can we get rid of these first?”

Together, with unbelievable ease, we disrobe each other. Clothes are quickly tossed to floor. The cool air hits my naked skin for only a second before he pulls me down into his arms, holding me tightly as he rubs his massive erection against me.

“Pacey,” I gasp, my breath catching in my throat.

“What baby?” he asks, watching me expectantly as I pull back, out of his grasp.

I say nothing, instead I extend my index finger towards him. He graciously accepts it, sucking it into his warm mouth and wetting it thoroughly. When I try to withdraw it he gently holds it in place with his teeth.

“Let go,” I command and, after a slight hesitation, he complies.

I take my wet finger and begin to circle my left nipple with it. I stroke it until it hardens into a stiff peak. He watches intently until I offer him my finger again. He suckles it delicately and this time when I go to pull it from his mouth I get no resistance. As I begin to play with my other nipple I shift slightly on top of him, rubbing against his hard cock.

“Oh God,” he gasps, pulling me down onto him and rolling us over so that I’m on my back, beneath him. His mouth fastens onto my breast and begins to suck and nibble at it voraciously. I groan loudly, gripping his head and holding it to my breast. My entire body is aching for him.

“I want you...right now.” My voice is shaky and anxious. I can barely speak.

He pulls away from my breast and kisses me softly on the mouth. Without a moments hesitation his hand slides from my waist to down between my legs. His finger dips inside me, skillfully stroking my inner wall.

“Pacey...please...” I whisper desperately, my finger tips pressing into his back as I try to urge him on.

He watches me, smiling slightly.

“Please,” I beg.

He positions himself at my entrance and stops, starring deeply into my eyes.

I groan in frustration. This is absolutely torturous!

“Jo, wake up.”

“No.” I try to squirm away from the person grasping my shoulder.

“It’s just a bad dream Jo.”

My eyes pop open and I’m face to face with Dawson. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest. My eyes dart around the room as I try to orient myself.

“Are you okay?” Dawson asks, his voice full of concern.

I’m in the living room, sprawled on the couch. I clutch my chest, relieved that I’m fully dressed. I slowly maneuver myself into a sitting position, trying to catch my breath. Dawson sits down beside me.

“Jo?”

“I’m fine,” I manage to speak. I try to give him a reassuring smile but fall short.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asks, rubbing my back.

“Not exactly...” Just a naughty dream...about our friend Pacey. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I just want to make sure you’re really okay...” he says, sounding uncertain. “Did you sleep out here last night?”

I look down at my crumpled black dress and can only imagine that my eyes have big, messy mascara rings around them. “Yeah, I guess I did...”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing really. I’m just gonna take a shower and get out of this stupid dress.”

I’ve got to get out of this room. I desperately need to clear my head and pull myself together. Dawson knows better than to push. I can feel him watching me though, as I head for the bathroom. He has always been too protective of me, actually they both have--him and Pacey--sometimes it’s comforting and other times it’s down right annoying.

“I’ll make some coffee...” he calls out, trying to be helpful.

I turn and give him a quick smile. “That would be good.”

~~~*~*~*~~~

I’ve been staring at the same page in my book for a good 15 minutes before I realize I’ve stopped reading. Memories of my dream keep seeping back into my thoughts, distracting me. I feel frustrated and tired. Dropping my book to the floor, I glance over at the pile of laundry I’ve been putting off all day. Sluggishly I gather it up and stuff into my laundry bag. I might as well get something productive done today.

Pacey’s in the living room typing away on his laptop when I come out dragging my laundry bag behind me.

“Off to the Laundromat?” he asks, glancing up from his work.

“Yep.”

We don’t have a washing machine or a dryer at home so we use the slightly rundown Laundromat not too far from the house. It’s a hassle but we’re barely making the rent and we don’t have extra money for things like washing machines or air-conditioning.

“Would you mind some company? I was just going to head over there myself.”

“No, go grab you stuff. The more the merrier,” I tell him although I’m anything but certain that this is a good idea.

“Great, I’ll just be a second.”

I plop down on the couch, waiting for him to gather up his things. I used to have fun spending time with Pacey but now everything has gotten all screwed up in my head. These dreams have really fucked up my mind, making everything so confusing and complicated.

“Jo, Connor just pulled up!” Pacey calls out from his bedroom.

“Great,” I mutter under my breath, getting up to answer the door.

Connor looks great, there’s no denying that. There’s the slightest hint of a sunburn across the bridge of his nose and I find it strangely sexy.

“Hey Joey,” he smiles tentatively, making his way up to the door.

“Hey.”

“So are we still speaking?”

“I don’t know...you’re the one that stormed out of here last night,” I say, holding the door open for him. I know that we are both to blame for last night but I’m not about to admit that to him.

“I’m really sorry baby,” he says. “I don’t know what got into me...”

“Yeah, me either,” I say flatly.

“Come on Joey, let’s not fight. I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he says. “Can’t we go somewhere and talk about this?”

“I’m going to the Laundromat with Pacey,” I tell him.

“Why don’t you bring your laundry back to my place instead. You can do it there, I’ll make you dinner and we can talk.”

“Connor....” I’m hesitant about ditching Pacey like this and he knows it.

“Pacey won’t care,” he insists. “I really think we need to talk.”

“I don’t know...”

He gives me his pleading look and I feel like there really isn’t much of a choice. I know that Pacey will be okay with it, because that’s just the kind of friend he is.

“Here,” I say, thrusting my laundry bag into his arms, “take this out to the car. I’ll go talk to Pacey.”

“Thanks Joey.” His face breaks into a huge smile and I feel a bit irritated. It isn’t right to feel this way, Connor is my boyfriend and I should want to spend time with him...so why don’t I feel happy?

~~~*~*~*~~~

We make dinner together, eat, talk, make love, always the same routine we go through when we have a fight. It feels stale and insincere. I spend too much of the evening thinking about Pacey and feeling guilty about it. Maybe I’m losing my mind or maybe this is normal...I don’t know anymore. As I lay in Connor’s bed, watching him sleep, I can’t help but wonder if he ever feels something lacking between us. Does he think about other women when we make love? Is this just what couples do?

I quietly slip out of bed, gather my clothes up and begin to dress.

“Where are you going?” Connor murmurs sleepily, rolling over and watching me.

“Home. I’ve got to work tomorrow.”

“Spend the night.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve really got to go home.”

“Why?” he asks sounding agitated.

“Honey,” I say softly, sitting down next to him, “all my things are at home. I’m just trying to be realistic.”

“You wouldn’t have this problem if you’d move in with me,” he says.

Shit...not again...

“Connor we’ve talked about this before...”

“I think we need to talk about it again,” he informs me.

I’ve spent all evening trying to work things out between us and I’m not about to start another argument. I don’t have the energy.

“Set your alarm for 5:30 am. I can spend the night, I’ll just have to get up early so that I can run by the house before work,” I sigh, slipping my shoes back off.

He grins like a spoiled child who has once again gotten his way but at least I’ve successfully distracted him from anymore discussion about moving into his place. Now he’s too busy pulling me back into bed and helping me out of my clothes to talk. I close my eyes, relaxing under his touch, and focus all my attention on him hoping that I will be able to keep my mind from straying tonight.

~~~*~*~*~~~

In general Monday is not my favorite day of the week, but today is absolutely hideous! I’m late to work because Connor forgot to set his alarm. At the museum, I have the most obnoxious group of 5th graders to deal with. They are unbelievably rude and it takes every bit of my strength not to tell them to all fuck off. Connor comes by at noon and wants to take me out to lunch as an apology for the whole alarm clock mishap this morning. I can’t get away from work though and I can tell this hurts his feelings. He leaves in a sulk. I finally get home, thankful that my day is over, only to have the heel of my shoe brake on the way up the porch steps, sending me toppling to the ground. My knee cracks against the cement and a throbbing pain shoots through my leg. I let out a string of profanities before I sit down and sob. My brand new pantyhose are shredded and my knee is hurt and bleeding. This is pretty much the state I’m in when Pacey arrives home.

“Joey!? What’s wrong?” he asks, finding me on the porch.

“I’ve had a really bad day and I hurt myself,” I tell him, hiccuping as I try to stop crying.

He looks down at the gash on my knee and the blood that’s running down my leg. “God, what did you do?”

“I fell down,” I tell him pathetically. “My heel broke off.”

He sits down beside me. “You’ve been having a hard time lately, haven’t you?” I nod my head, wiping at my eyes. “How about I help you into the house and we clean up your knee?”

“Okay,” I say, letting him wrap his strong arm around my waist and help me inside. I try not to think about how good it feels to have his arm securely holding me.

He sits me down on the couch and goes to find our first aid kit. While he’s gone I wriggle out of my torn pantyhose and prop my leg up on the coffee table. My knee is throbbing but I can tell that the wound isn’t that bad.

“Okay, let’s clean you up,” he smiles, reappearing with a wash cloth and some antibacterial cream.

He sits down on the coffee table, opposite me, and carefully places my foot in his lap. He’s incredibly gentle as he washes the blood from my knee and leg. He looks up to make sure he’s not hurting me and I smile, reassuring him that I’m okay. As he applies the cream to my knee I become aware of the fact my skirt has crept up, showing off a lot more leg than originally intended, and I catch Pacey starring. I bite back a smile and pretend not to have noticed.

“I don’t think it needs to be bandaged,” he tells me, recapping the cream as he blushes slightly, “it’ll heal faster with exposure to the air.”

“Thanks so much Pacey.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, cautiously placing my foot back on the table and sitting down beside me on the couch.

“I’m sorry for acting so childish.”

“There’s no reason to apologize.” he tells me. “You weren’t acting childish. You hurt yourself...it’s okay to be upset.”

“It’s just been a horrible day from the start,” I sigh, feeling kind of sorry for myself. “I think that this was just the last straw.”

“So, you want to tell me about your day and what’s upsetting you?” he asks. I give him a skeptical look. “Come on, it’ll make you feel better.”

Maybe he’s right...it’s certainly worth a try. I lean back against the couch and tell him about oversleeping, about the little hellions I had to deal with at work and I tell him about my problems with Connor...without going into too much detail of course. He’s an excellent listener. He doesn’t try to solve my problems or give me answers, he just listens understandingly. Then, when I’m finished, he amuses me with stories from his own day. He makes me laugh and he makes me forget about my shitty day. It feels so good to be laughing and suddenly it hits me how happy I am just being here with Pacey. There’s really no place I’d rather be. My face breaks out into a stupid smile.

“What are you grinning about?” Pacey asks, noticing the idiotic look on my face.

I start to answer but before I even realize what’s happening my lips are on his and I’m kissing him. To my surprise, he doesn’t pull away...

To be continued...