. Summary: Set just before season one, it is an altered version of the series in which three friends, Joey, Pacey, and Dawson are actually friends instead of just “friends.” Warning contains cheese.  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

She trudged her ore’s through the thick water floating slowly down the creek. The sun had just awoken from its night sleep hovering closely on the horizon casting an orange glow across the water. She groaned forcing her sore arms one more row before her boat bumped against her dock. Tying the boat securely she hoped up onto the old creaking wood heading across the rough yellow grass and up the weathered and worn porch. It wasn’t the nicest house in Capeside, but it was her home. 

“Where have you been?” She jumped at the sound of her voice digging her hands in her pockets. 

“The Witter’s were throwing a little ‘Bon Voyage Bash’ so Dawson and I decided to crash it so I just stayed at Pacey’s,” she explained. 

“Look Jo,” Bessie planted both hands firmly on the chair and table building up enough momentum to push her onto her feet her hands immediately cradling her bulging belly. “I don’t mind you having sleepovers with your little boyfriends but could you call me first?” 

“What’s the big deal, I’m here I’m fine, discussion closed,” she shrugged her shoulders turning to head towards her bedroom. 

“Listen Josephine, I am your legal guardian and until our father is released from his incarceration you will listen to what I say. You can’t go frolicking around doing whatever you want, the Child Protective Services are up my ass enough as it is, I don’t need to give them a reason to put you into foster care.” 

“Bessie this is Capeside,” she argued, “the only criminals in town come from our family so I think I’m safe.” 

“That doesn’t change my point,” Bessie groaned looking over at the clock. “Listen Jo, I need you to go help with the lunch crowd.” 

“What about Bodie?” She groaned. 

“He’s not a waiter he’s a cook, serving the good townspeople is your job,” Bessie refuted. 

She narrowed her eyes setting her jaw, “I liked you better before you got knocked up.” 

“Joey!” 

“Kidding,” she defended heading towards her room. 

“So how was this party?” Bessie waddled after her. 

“Why would you care?” She countered. 

“Come on Joey,” she whined, “I’m practically trapped in this house twenty four hours a day with nothing but syndicated sitcoms and trashy soap operas.” 

“But I heard that Katharine just came back from the dead the third time,” Joey feigned incredulous. 

“Exactly my point, I need a little dash of reality, some old teen angst that I’ve been lacking for the past 5 years.” 

“You know it was your typical high school kegger, I hid in the corner with Dawson and Pacey only drank root beer and then Greg Anderson kissed me,” she shrugged off nonchalantly. 

“Rewind, rewind,” Bessie cut off, “Greg Anderson kissed you, the Greg Anderson?” “Busboy of my dreams,” she smiled giddily. 

“Got to love the butterflies,” Bessie rubbed her round belly leaning against the wall for support, “did you get the butterflies?” 

Joey frowned, Bessie looked at her sadly, “Oh don’t worry Jo, you’re 15 you’ll get the butterflies eventually.” 

She continued to stare down at the floor her lips curling into a smile as she began to remember the feeling. “Is it when you forget how to breathe, your palms get all sweaty, your heart shoots straight to your throat and your stomach does flip flops?” She asked rubbing her hand along her arms. 

Bessie grinned, “That sounds like a syndrome or two.” 

Suddenly she could feel his arms around her again, the heat of his body pressed against hers, flashes of his crystal blue eyes boring into her. She shook it off, “Guess I’ll have to wait for the day, huh?” 

She turned back to her bedroom door her hand on the knob before she turned back around, “Bess, you know how when you’re little and you tease the guy you like and he does vice versa.” 

Bessie furrowed her brows cautiously walking back to her chair and sitting down, “Yeah.” 

“Well do you think that establishes the type of people that you’re attracted to, I mean I’ve learned that attractions are some sort of chemical balance and maybe you can catch onto that at a young age and you begin to act on it and—.” 

“Jo, you’re rambling,” she cut off. 

Joey frowned, “I guess it’s because I don’t know exactly what I’m saying,” she smiled uneasily, “it’s nothing really.” 

Turning back towards her door she had it halfway open before, “You’re attracted to Pacey aren’t you?” 

She whipped around, “What?” 

“What you were saying, you were describing Pacey, weren’t you?” Bessie explained, “Unless you have some other sparring partner I don’t know about.” 

“Yeah, well that’s not what I was saying,” she argued, “Pacey’s so gross and vulgar and crude and…”

“He gave you the butterflies.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rolled her eyes. 

“Thou doth protest far too much,” Bessie smirked. 

“You’re right Bess; the soaps are going to your head.” 

“I’m not saying that you’re in love with him,” Bessie argued before smirking, “I’m just saying that you’re hot for him.” 

She narrowed her eyes at her older sister, “The Icehouse calls.” 

“Joey and Pacey sitting in a tree,” she teased. Joey dodged into her room, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” she continued to call out. Joey scurried through her drawers jumping back into the hall and pelting balls of socks at her laughing sister. “Oh Jo, you can’t deny true love.” 

“I hate you,” she finished heading back into her bedroom her cheeks furiously pink as she banged her head against her door. “Note to self, no discussing relationships with sister.” 

~*~

“I think I hate high school already,” Pacey said hiking the straps of his backpack up his shoulders. 

Joey folded her arms over her chest her own bag hanging loosely by her side, “Enlighten me Mister Witter.” 

“Not only do you have to wake up an hour early,” he began, “but your lack of driver’s license really causes a feeling of inadequacy.” 

“Pacey we’ve been here for five minutes and you’re already complaining,” she said flatly. 

“Hey don’t talk,” he pointed an accusing finger, “you’ve been bitching and moaning for weeks now.” 

“Point taken,” she nodded. 

Continuing down the crowded hall they passed hoards of teenagers, some happy, some depressed, some a little stoned, all stuck with the same responsibility of eight periods from hell. Passing a classroom a woman walked out bumping straight into Pacey, “Oh dear I’m so sorry, I’m such a mess on the first day of school,” the woman said straightening his rumpled shirt. 

“No problem, ma’am,” he said appreciating her sandy blonde hair, luscious red lips, silky violet blouse, “I’ll be your pillow any day.” 

Joey rolled her eyes. “Charming,” the teacher said uncomfortably, “I’ve got lessons to tend to.” 

“Smooth,” Joey said sarcastically. 

“With a teaching staff like that I may never leave,” he nodded in a daze his eyes following the teacher. 

She grabbed onto his arm pulling him after her, “If you want to graduate before you’re 30 try focusing on the books.” 

“Well at thirty it really isn’t robbing the cradle anymore now is it?” 

“I will never understand you,” she shook her head sadly. 

“I’m just playing Jo,” he said wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “I’m ready for this, I practiced with my Hooked on Phonics last night and everything.” 

“You’re mocking me now,” she said. 

He pinched her cheek, “That’s because your so cute when you’re all riled up.” 

“Hey,” Margie Stepford said tucking her curly red hair behind her ears as she walked up to the tangled pair. “Are Pacey Witter and Joey Potter dating?” She teased, “You look so cute!” 

They pulled apart, “Ew, no,” they replied in unison. 

“Oh, sorry, it’s just…” she trailed off, “So how was your summer?” 

“Far too short,” Joey shrugged leaning against the locker behind her. 

“I heard that Greg Anderson pulled some moves on you,” Margie said excitedly. 

“What do you mean by that?” Joey asked arching a brow. 

“That he was all into you and finally made a move.” 

Pacey nodded rubbing one of Joey’s shoulder, “Come on Jo, you can tell her,” blocking his mouth he whispered into Margie’s ear, “They made out.” 

“Joey Potter,” she shrieked, “escaping the tomboy stereotype one hottie at a time.” 

She bit her lip, “Thanks, I think.” 

“Come on Potter,” Pacey said grabbing onto her hand, “We’ve got a first period to get to.” 

“I don’t like this new image,” she said clinging closely to him as they continued through the flood of students. 

“What new image?” He asked confused still dragging her down the hall. 

“The beautiful cheerleader type who has the jocks swooning,” she explained. 

“First off, you don’t have to be a cheerleader to be beautiful and second one jock being attracted to you doesn’t qualify the entire football team.” He hip checked her playfully, “You seem like the same Josephine Potter to me.” 

“Stop calling me Josephine,” she sneered jokingly. 

“Aw Joey I knew he’d ask you,” some girl called past her. 

She looked at Pacey questioningly, “Why does everybody suddenly think we’re dating?” 

He looked down at their entwined hands, “That could be a problem,” he pulled his hand away. 

“Are we always this affectionate?” She asked stepping away from him. 

He shrugged his shoulders, “I never really thought of it before.” 

He stopped glanced at the locker numbers looking down at his assignment before finding his, “Have you gone to yours yet?” He asked gesturing towards his dull blue locker. 

She frowned, “Yeah, it’s like in Guam or something, I don’t even think there are classroom’s near it, I’d be surprised if it were still considered part of the school.” 

“You want to stash some books in mine?” He asked pulling the door open. 

“Are you sure, it’s going to be pig sty in a week anyway are you sure you want some extra books littering the pile?” 

“Me cassa es su cassa, right?” He said shoving his backpack inside. 

“You’re a life saver,” Joey said handing him a few notebooks before he pried them inside. 

“Aw, Joey,” Cynthia Petterson said passing by. 

“You know I think Dawson’s locker is over here too,” he said tightly, “maybe he can spare some room for this one.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” she nodded looking down the row, “which one is his exactly?” 

“Three down,” he said still pushing around the contents of his locker. 

She cringed, “I don’t have the combo.” 

He looked down at the paper in his hand Dawson’s locker combo scribbled under his own. He reached around her his arm pushed against her waist as he wound around the dial, “Witter, nice,” John Hurtley patted him on the back as he passed by. 

Joey scowled after him, “This is weird.” 

“Since when did our peers get consumed by the pod people?” 

Dawson wondered down the hall locker assignment in hand as he peered over the paper catching sight of Joey and Pacey, “Look, my very own doorman, or doorwomen,” he corrected, “to be politically correct.” 

“Dawson could you like make out with me or something?” Joey asked stepping between him and his locker. 

He looked over at Pacey who merely nodded in agreement before returning his gaze to Joey’s Bambi eyes, “What’s wrong with you?” 

She sighed a surrender stepping away, “This whole school is on crack, I swear,” she folded her arms stubbornly over her chest as she leaned against the locker row. 

“I’m beginning to think it may be you, Jo,” he patted her elbow before returning his attention to his locker. 

“No, I’m going to have to agree with Potter,” Pacey cut in. 

Dawson furrowed his brows, “Perhaps it’s both of you with the addiction, this is going to be harder then I thought.” 

“Rumors are going around this school, people think Pacey and I are dating, I have a bad enough reputation as it is, it was bad enough to have one person say it but to have four people? One person it’s gossip, two, its like gospel,” Joey heaved out in one breath. 

“She may be a tad bit melodramatic,” Pacey said indicating with his forefingers. 

She glared at him, “You know what we better not all stand together like this, people may think we’re having a threesome.” 

“Pacey,” she sneered punching his arm. 

The first bell rang, Pacey pulled out his schedule, “Where are you to first?” 

Dawson checked his, “English then math then study hall before lunch.” 

Joey looked at hers, “Art? I didn’t sign up for art class!” 

Pacey rolled his eyes, “How hard could it be all you do is watch boring videos and get graded on your doodles.” 

“That’s the problem Pacey, my doodles don’t exceed primitive stick figures and other first grade illustrations.” 

“If that’s the case you could really use the lessons,” Pacey retorted. 

Dawson continued to examine his schedule, “Don’t worry Jo, they put me in the wrong history class I’ll go down to guidance with you later.” 

“At least somebody cares about my welfare,” she said to Pacey. 

“And this behavior coming from her boyfriend no less,” Dawson shook his head playfully. 

~*~

“Hey excuse me?” Joey tried to get attention from one of the secretaries in the guidance office the chaos of first day glitches consuming them. The room was lined with complaining students as Joey and Dawson ducked through the flood. “Excuse me ma’am?” 

“What can I get you dear?” A secretary asked pushing the frames of her glasses up her nose. 

“There was an error in my schedule, they put me in a class I didn’t sign up for,” she explained. 

“Grade?” She asked. 

“Tenth,” she dug out her schedule, “do you need to see this?” 

“No, I’m sorry honey, we’re dealing with seniors first, juniors second and we won’t get to sophomores till at least next Tuesday.” 

“What?” 

“Seniority rules, we take care of the upper class first and then work down the ladder.” 

“But that’s not fair, I can’t take this course I’m unqualified!” 

“You’ll have to wait just like everyone else dear,” she filled through a stack of correction forms, “What class is it anyway?” 

“Advanced sketching and sculpture,” Joey frowned. 

“That’s a wonderful class dear, why don’t you give it a chance?” 

She rolled her eyes, “Fine.” 

Plowing through the crowded office they found fresh air in the hall, “This sucks,” Joey pouted. 

“Oh come on Joey, the class can’t be that bad.” 

“I just don’t want to go there Dawson, I don’t want to draw or paint or any other way of expressing my artistic bravado.” 

He caught her arm, “Joey, what’s going on?” 

She frowned biting her lower lip between her teeth, “It just,” she paused, “it reminds me of my mom.” 

He froze, “She used to draw.” 

“It was her passion in life,” she replied on the brink of tears. 

Dawson held onto her hand cautiously, “I still have that painting she made me when I was seven on my wall, a little director’s chair with a clapper on it.” 

She wiped away a few tears, “I don’t want to disappoint her, you know? I feel like if I attempt to draw like she did I’ll just get it all wrong.” 

“Joey, you would never be able to disappoint her! She would have thought a scribble from you was worthy of replacing the Mona Lisa!” 

“It reminds me of her too much,” she shook her head sniffling. 

“That’s a good thing though, think about it Joey,” he placed a hand on each shoulder, “being able to share that talent with her, putting a little bit of her in everything you do, that’s the only way you’ll remember, by continuing the legacy.” 

She fell into his arms and he instinctually wrapped them around her, “Thank you Dawson.” 

“It’s alright; you’re allowed to miss her.” 

She pulled away wiping at her clammy eyes, “We should probably get back to study hall.” 

He glanced at his watch flicking his hand, “Nah, lunch is in two minutes anyway.” 

She smiled, “You rebel you.” 

“What can I say,” he shrugged, “I’m James Dean trapped in Ritchie Cunningham’s body.” 

~*~

Pacey hopped up the porch steps swinging the door open and tossing his backpack to the floor. Cracking his knuckles he headed into the kitchen scanning the fridge before finding his sandwich on the top shelf. “Pacey honey, are you home?” Misses Witter asked with backpack in hand. 

“Yeah mom,” he called back with a mouth full of food. 

“How was school?” 

“You know your typical first day jitters,” he took another bite, “did I tell you they put me in the honors science this year, they say I have a knack for it or something.” 

“Did they remember to put you in the resource classroom?” She asked setting his bag on a kitchen chair. 

“I haven’t been in resource since eighth grade, mom,” he replied still sensitive on the matter. 

“I just remember your teachers always said you needed more time then the other kids, that you were no Speedy Gonzalez compared to your peers.”

“But I’m not anymore,” he defended, “I’m in an honors class now.” 

“I remember Douglas and Carrie took all those classes English and math and history,” she trailed off, “which ones are you in again?” 

“Just the science,” he said timidly. 

“Well that’s not bad right?” She pinched his cheek, “I remember a little Pacey nearly blowing up the basement with his little Mad Scientist stint.” 

“Yeah, wasn’t that a riot?” He asked flatly setting his jaw. 

Jon Witter came through the door hanging his holster on the coat rack. Slipping past his family he went straight to the refrigerator searching through the contents, “Hey Pop,” Pacey said after a long moment. 

“Are we out of beer again?” He grumbled. 

“Bottom shelf, dear.” 

“It was my first day of high school,” Pacey added. 

“We got another one in there already? Great more testing to pay for.” 

“I, uh,” he stuttered, “it turns out I’m pretty good with science and stuff, so they put me in the advance class.” 

“Another class to fail with different excuses,” Jon laughed, “so you going to be a scientist Pace?” He cracked open his beer, “Going to find the cure for the common cold?” He laughed, “we can get you another one of those chemistry kits to practice on,” his laughter consumed his words. 

Pacey rolled his eyes, “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, I was thinking about astronomy or something, remember how we used to go camping and look at the stars?” 

“Yeah I remember,” he took a sip, “I remember Doug and I trying to pull you out of the truck because you were scared like a little girl that the bears would get you.” 

Jon sat in a chair, “I was reading the paper this morning, read an article about that friend of yours, Dawson Leery,” he smirked. “Now that kid is something, talking about that movie he made that came in third at some college festival. Now I don’t know much about movie making but that’s pretty good for a kid.” 

“Yeah, I know, I helped him with it, I was the star of the movie actually,” Pacey said yearning for a compliment or an acceptance, anything would do. 

“You stay on his good side boy, kids going to be famous one day, out on the golden coast forgetting about all those people who got him there.” 

He gritted his teeth forcing a smile, “Speaking of the wonder kid I promised I’d go over to his house after school, we’re working on his next masterpiece.” 

His parents didn’t even say good bye. 

~*~

Pacey propped his feet on the edge of Dawson’s bed, “What do you think is suitable means to divorce your parents?” 

“Um, I think Drew Barrymore divorced her mother, she was stealing money from her or something.” 

“How about emotional abuse and neglect?” Pacey pondered flipping absently through a magazine. 

“Could that be considered irreconcilable differences because people get divorced over that all the time,” Dawson offered. 

He tossed the magazine onto the bed, “Probably not.” 

“Rough day?” 

“I give my parents good news and they give me the typical response,” he said standing from the director’s chair, “remember that stupid thing Pacey did ten years ago or ‘Gee Pace why can’t you be more like your friends?’” 

“You’ll prove him wrong one day,” Dawson said, “or at least one day he’ll realize you already have.” 

"Yeah I'd have to cure cancer for that one," he ran a hand through his hair, "or Deputy Doug would have to pull some monumental disaster." 

Sitting on the windowsill he glanced out the window catching site of a cab pulling up the lawn next door. "What's going on?" Pacey asked glancing over at Dawson lounging on his bed. 

Dawson joined him his eyes searching across the way, "I don't know," he squinted his eyes focusing on the young blonde stepping out of the cab. The wind caught her flowing blonde hair as well as the thin yellow sundress that barely covered her thighs. She brushed a hand across her forehead before shielding her eyes from the setting sun, inspecting her surroundings. 

Pacey smirked, "Looks like that girl next door we ordered finally came, six weeks or less my ass." 

"No, I know her," Dawson waved his hand in her direction, "we met like six years ago." 

Pacey looked at him incredulously, "and you didn't call me? Look at her man, she's hot!" 

"I was ten," he defended. 

Pacey climbed out the window, "I say we give her a proper welcoming." 

"Pacey what are you doing?" Dawson followed him, "she doesn't even know who we are." 

"Quit it with the shy noble crap and come with Me." 

Jogging across the lawn Pacey hopped in front of the bewildered blonde, "Hey there." 

She involuntarily smiled checking around for anyone else, "Hi." 

"Pacey J. Witter," he extended a hand. 

"Jen," she met his grasp still giggling slightly. 

"So what brings you to our humble abode," he gestured grandly to the land around them. 

"Sick grandfather," she nodded towards the Ryan's house, "I'm here to help out." 

"I find responsible women extremely sexy." 

Dawson shook his head finally catching up with his cocky friend, "Dawson Leery?" 

"One and only," he shrugged, "Jen, right?" 

"Wow," she shook her head, "I haven't seen you since Thanksgiving," she calculated quickly, "1993." 

"It's been that long has it?" 

"How is Uncle Mitch?" She asked resting her hands on her hips. 

"Uncle?" Pacey repeated, "Wait, you're cousins?" 

Dawson shook his head furiously, "No, no, Mitch and her mother, Helen were friends growing up," he corrected. 

"Suddenly I feel like we haven't spoken for the last ten years," Pacey shook his head patting Dawson's shoulder. "So Jen," he returned his attention, "where are you from." 

"New York, actually, I lived in the city." 

"Ah yes, the Big Apple," he smiled, "big city girl." 

Dawson shut his eyes tightly, "Any other New York nicknames you want to throw out there, Pace?" 

"All I had left was Empire Princess, Yankee Doodle Hottie, and Statue of Beauty." 

"He's like a poet," he explained. 

"I'm impressed," she giggled. 

"How long are you staying?" Pacey inquired. 

"Indefinitely," she explained, "until my Gramps is better, I guess." 

"In that case we should give you a tour around the town when you're settled in, Dawson and me know all the hot spots in this quaint town." 

Her eyes jumped between the two teens, "I'd like that." 

Joey floated along the creek her eyes drifting over the Leery house before catching sight of three figures standing on the lawn. Immediately identifying two of them as Dawson and Pacey she fought to recognize the girl talking with them. Hurrying the last few feet to the dock she secured her boat hopping across the dock and sprinting down the lawn. 

"Hi," she said uneasily inspecting the newest addition. 

"Potter this is Jen," Pacey introduced, "Jen Joey." 

"Joey?" Jen asked extending her hand, "Like short for Josephine?" 

"Just Joey," she quickly corrected. 

"Sorry," Jen cringed. 

"Don't mind her, she's just a little moody this time of the…" he trailed off, "second." 

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You're so immature Pacey." 

"So do you all go to Capeside High?" Jen asked brushing a few blonde locks from her eyes. 

"Tenth grade," Pacey nodded. 

She grinned, "Great me too, at least come tomorrow morning I'll have somebody to talk to, I don't want to feel like a total neophyte." 

"This town is so small," Dawson stated, "you'll know everybody in two weeks tops." 

"Well I should go get unpacked," she gestured towards the house, "It was nice meeting you Joey and Pacey, and great seeing you again Dawson." 

"Hey when you're done just come on over to my place, there's a ladder by the window to avoid all those awkward parent moments," he said. 

"Dawson's parents are auditioning for middle aged porn," Pacey smirked. 

"And you wonder why it's difficult to make new friends," Joey rolled her eyes. 

Jen smirked, "I'll try." 

"We'll take you to the Rialto," Dawson continued, "it's the only worthy attraction in this town anyway." 

"Okay then," she headed back towards the house, "I'll see you three soon." 

"I like her," Pacey concluded, "We needed some more estrogen in this group, especially since Josephine here is sorely lacking." 

"Ha, ha," she replied flatly heading back over to Dawson's house. 

"So D, have another woman to add on the sexual fantasy list besides my sister?" 

"What, I've known her for like five seconds," Dawson asked shocked, "my only memories of her was puking out turkey in the creek." 

Pacey winked pointing to his head, "Already on file." 

"Could you two stop acting like teenagers for two seconds?" Joey huffed climbing up the ladder. "We're supposed to be doing horror movie research and having a post first day wrap up." 

"That was back when we had no lives," Pacey argued, "now we have our very own blonde bombshell next door." 

Joey rolled her eyes, "Gee golly, did she come with her own accessories?" 

~*~

Joey dug her hands deeply into her short pockets walking on the outer end of their group of four as they headed down Main Street. "So you three have been friends your whole life?" 

Jen asked walking between both Dawson and Pacey, "What can I say, I've got a soft spot for both of them," Pacey shrugged. 

"That's really something, there's so many people where I come from it's hard to keep track of friends." 

"Well here in the simple life we don't need any mobile transportation to keep track of friends, in fact we were only introduced to cars recently," Joey bit sarcastically. 

Pacey stifled a laugh, Dawson shut his eyes tightly, "This should be interesting," he mumbled. 

"So do you always go to the movies on a school night?" 

"We usually just watch movies in my room," Dawson explained. 

"We live on the edge," Joey added. 

"Ever need a free movie rental, Dawson and I have connections." 

She laughed as they bought their tickets heading into the theater, "Joey, I was going to go to the ladies room, come with me?" 

Joey looked to Dawson and Pacey who plead with her, "Be right there, girlfriend," she said flatly. 

"I don't think she likes her very much," Pacey shook his head. 

"She does seem a little angrier then usual," Dawson agreed. 

Jen held the door open waiting for Joey to follow, "You're a tomboy aren't you Joey," Jen said filing through her purse. 

"Don't let the exterior fool you, I'm a beauty queen at heart," she said dryly. 

"Sarcasm is your specialty as well," she added. 

"You discovered my secret, damn." 

"What's your deal anyway?" She asked pulling out a lipstick. 

"I'm young and I'm angry, who isn't?" 

She smirked, "I feel you there. So this Dawson and Pacey, 'just friends?'" 

"No we've been having threesomes since we were twelve, sometimes I just watch." 

She laughed, "Just friends then." 

"Why do you care?" 

"Your friend Pacey," she dabbed the cherry gloss across her lips, "he's cute," she gauged her response. 

"Oh, I get it you went to some upper class all girl school where you had limited contact with males besides the semi-annual dance with your brother school, Future Stock Broker's of America. Now the first slob you see you identify with bad boy and feel like slumming it once or twice until some puny old guy hits 85 and wants a sexy blonde wife with big boobs to care for him through his final days and hook her up with a sweet ass check for sucking his chicken leg once or twice a week." 

"Not exactly," Jen furrowed her brows at the assessment. 

"Look, Pacey's my friend, but right now he's just a horny little kid on a mission to get laid. Any creature with boobs he flings himself at and uses his lame pickup lines to seduce, so don't feel too special." 

"What about you?" 

"He looks past that, we're friends,” she answered. 

“What about Dawson, what’s going on with you two?” 

“What you want him too?” Jen shrugged her shoulders. 

“He’s na?ve and innocent, he’s never had a single scar on his perfect world so any sort of conflict would turn his entire world upside down,” she glared at her, “he doesn’t need a broken heart.” 

Jen laughed offering Joey her lipstick as she pulled out some mascara, “You should try some; it looks like your color.” 

“I don’t need to alter my appearance or hide behind some fake façade,” she retorted. 

“You’re right,” She tossed the mascara wand back into her purse, “I hate the stuff too, it was just programmed in my head to wear it.” She inspected Joey’s face, “You’ve got really nice skin.” 

“Thanks,” she mumbled awkwardly. 

“You’re very protective of them,” Jen commented. 

Joey forced a smile, “I take care of them and they both do the same for me." 

"Do you ever get sick of that?" Jen tucked her lipstick away puckering them a few time before turning to the awkward brunette. 

“What do you mean by that?” She asked tensely. 

“Just being one of the guys.” 

She narrowed her eyes, "Movies going to start," she said quickly retreating from the bathroom. 

Jen followed her out unwilling to step on anymore toes, meeting Pacey and Dawson by the door. Pacey extended an arm, “Lindley.” 

Looking over at Joey who stood on the outskirt, gaze attached to the floor she reluctantly took his arm following him into the theater. Heading down a row she was about to sit down before she looked back over at Joey, sitting on the edge next to Dawson, “Joey switch seats with me, I wanted to talk to Dawson a bit.” 

Joey eyed her strangely sliding past her and plopping in the seat next to Pacey. “Potter,” he smirked, “you ready to MST the hell out of this bitch?” 

She laughed, “We have seen it three times now, it really is starting to look clichéd,” she snatched a few pieces of his popcorn. 

“It was always clichéd.” 

~*~

Wondering out of the theater, the golden sunset was replaced by an endless blanket of stars, Jen looked up in awe marveling at each glowing dot. “They don’t have stars in New York either?” Joey asked dumbly. 

Jen kept her eyes focused on the sky, “None that you can see very well, our specialty is tall buildings and flashing lights.” 

“Well kiddies, it’s a school night we should be heading home,” Pacey said. 

“We’re this way,” Dawson indicated to Jen. 

“And we’re that way,” Joey nodded in the other direction. 

“Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jen smiled shaking their hands again, “it was really great meeting both of you.” Offering one last wave the two blondes took off down the sidewalk. 

“Josephine, I thought Dawson and I taught you manners,” he said sternly, “but your behavior tonight…” he shook his head. 

“I warned you that you couldn’t take me anywhere,” she shrugged. 

“You’re threatened by Jen aren’t you?” 

“Why would I be threatened by Jen?” Joey asked, “Who would possibly be threatened by some beautiful blonde pageant queen who has your two best friends drooling for an entire night?” 

“I was not drooling,” he refuted. 

“You were, it was embarrassing,” she shook her head. 

He swiped a hand over his chin, “Really do you think she saw?” 

“Weren’t you curious to why she was laughing so much?” 

He shoved her shoulder, “You’re just making it up.” 

“You’re no Rico Suavé, Dawson and I have accepted it, we hope one day you will too.” 

“You think you’re just so cute,” he pinched her cheek. He stretched his arms yawning loudly, “What time is it?” 

“10:30,” Joey explained heading across her lawn. 

“How far away is my house?” He whined. 

“Two blocks,” he rested his head on her shoulder. “Are you getting at something?” 

“I’m too tired to walk,” he pouted. 

She rolled her eyes, “Pacey want to sleep over?” 

He rolled his face over her shoulder, “Please?” 

“Come on,” she pulled on his hand dragging him after her. Gesturing towards her dresser she absently slipped off her shoes, “Dawson and your crap is all in that drawer if you need something to wear tomorrow.” 

Kicking off his shoes he jumped dramatically onto the bed digging his face into her pillow, “Oh I almost forgot,” he said rolling over, “Post day wrap up, how was school darling?” 

She smirked, “The guidance office is a bitch and I cried in the hallway,” she shrugged her shoulders working off her bra from under her tee shirt. “It ranks pretty high on embarrassing first day high jinx I’d have to say.” 

Pacey bit his lip his eyes trailing after the discarded piece of lingerie, “Yeah,” he said blankly, “Dawson told me about that.” 

“How about you?” She climbed onto the bed next to him. 

He shook his head, “Um, I’m now a genius much like yourself.” 

She furrowed her brows, “And how’d you make this assessment?” 

“Well supposedly our good ole Doctor Jenkins didn’t hate me as much as I thought he did last year,” he explained drumming his hands over his chest. “He gave me this spectacular recommendation and put me in honors biology.” 

“Pacey, that’s incredible,” she said genuinely, “I knew you could do it.” 

He flashed a crooked grin, “Thanks, Potter,” he said rolling over. 

She took a deep breath flipping off the lights before tucking under the covers. “Goodnight, Pace.” 

He hugged the pillow tightly burying his face deeply against it. Josephine Potter was becoming a women, he shook his head, an attractive women, it wasn’t helping his cause, “Goodnight, Jo,” he forced out. It was going to be a long night.