We open with Movie Night in Dawson's room. Playing the role of substitute-Joey tonight is none other than Mr. Pacey Witter, who announces loudly that he's bored, and his stomach announces loudly that it's hungry. He wants the extra pepperonis from an earlier pizza the boys ordered. Dawson agrees, but he's not impressed that Pacey is interrupting his viewing of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, starring the one and only Jimmy Stewart. Pacey begs to differ on the interpretation of "classic" -- in his opinion, it's a morbid black-and-white movie, featuring "a bunch of dead people." He even points out that the people in the movie are "all decomposing somewhere" and suggests Dawson pick out a new release next time.
Of course, Dawson will have none of that, and launches into a diatribe about how the movie is a "Frank Capra classic." That's exactly why Pacey doesn't like it though, he has a hard time connecting to the "wholesome and morally grounded" element. He can understand why Dawson feels that connection, though -- because it's exactly who Dawson is, in Pacey's mind. "You're an endangered species, man, the last of a dying breed," he tells him. Dawson asks if it's an insult, but Pacey insists it isn't, he's just stating the obvious: "You take in stray dongs, you help old ladies across the street, you 'just say no' -- you are Jimmy Stewart!" (This is yet another in-joke from the writers. When DC first came out, all the media hype and PR machines kept labelling James Van Der Beek as a young James Stewart -- earnest, honest, endearing and wholesome.)
Despite it being a backhanded kind-of compliment, Dawson is flustered, and asks Pacey what that makes him, then. "A needless waste, born to walk in the shadows of greater men," he replies, to which Dawson asks if he's having a self-esteem crisis (Who, Pacey? Never!). No, Pacey replies, he's quite happy with his below-average status, thank you very much.
Before they can carry the discussion any further, however, a certain female figure announces herself by stumbling through the window. Nope, not Joey. It's Jen, and she's smashed. "I dropped my purse in your hedge, remind me to get it tomorrow," she announces before passing out, face-down, on Dawson's bed. "Looks like you've got company," Pacey says dryly. "Third time this week," Dawson answers in a pissed tone. (Third time? Um . . . where's he sleeping when Jen invites herself over for these little kamikaze crash landings?) "Not exactly the ideal situation, too bad for you," Pacey muses. (On several different fronts, no doubt!)
Dawson enlists Pacey to help take Jen's shoes off. (Hey, I just thought of something! This is foreshadowing -- this is the first of two times this episode where Jen's in a bedroom with two guys who are trying to get her undressed, albeit for completely different reasons) It's also interesting because it's the second time Dawson and Pacey team up to help a drunk female friend (remember Joey last year?).
Before they finish de-shoeing her, Jen sits up and tells then she's gonna throw up. Dawson gets her the wastebasket, but it's a false alarm and she just makes a burpy noise instead (charming.) and passes out for the second time. "Once again, Dawson to the rescue," Pacey smirks. Dawson sighs. "I just don't know what to do about her. She's spiralling." Pacey suggests they just continue to watch the movie, after all, Jimmy Stewart would know what to do. His comment earns him a dirty look from Dawson.
Cut to the kitchen (presumably the next day?) where we find Mitch. "What are you doing here?" Dawson asks on behalf of millions of viewers. Unfortunately, he's just come home to pack some more stuff. "I'm moving out," he tells his son. "Oh. Well. Have fun," Dawson replies. (I don't know about you, but I expected more of a protest) Mitch was wondering if Dawson would like to help him move, they could grab a bite to eat, spend some time together . . . like a friend thing, he suggests hopefully. "Sure, but skip the friend thing," Dawson responds. "I have real friends for that." (ouch.)
Mitch tells Dawson that he knows it can't be easy for him, and that he knows Dawson is disappointed in him, and that he wishes things could be different but . . . ". . . they're not," Dawson replies with a shrug. Then Mitch earnestly tells Dawson that he's really trying, to which Dawson offers no reply. They agree to meet after school, but before Dawson leaves, he can't hold his tongue any longer. "I don't know what you expect from me," he says. "This is not a transition I'm thrilled with, and if you want what's best for this family, then why are you moving out? This is not a step in the right direction." Mitch quietly tells him that it is his decision to make and not Dawson's. "I see," his son responds icily and walks out.
During the above conversation, Mitch hands Dawson an envelope. When he gets outside the house, Dawson opens it, scans the contents and breaks into a wide grin. Finally, some good news for our reluctant hero? (yeah, I know, it's an obvious pun from the episode's title, but I couldn't resist)
Over at school, Pacey has an appointment for "guidance counselling," but judging by the insipid and mean-spirited counselling he's getting, all he's being guided into is a bleak vision of the future. "A 1.7 G.P.A. . . . failing U.S. History and Biology . . . extra-curricular activities: zero . . . has difficulty on tests requiring a number two pencil . . . disruptive in class . . ." the counsellor rattles off, adding that Pacey has zero career objectives because he failed a career aptitude test. The counsellor marvels at this last bit, wondering how such a thing is possible (It is -- I did it in Grade 9 -- and look at me now! I'm kidding about the last bit, but I did fail it, it's totally possible to do so). Anyway, the counsellor rudely suggests that most people with Pacey's academic record can't even walk upright. (Gee, speaking of failing aptitude tests, where does this guy get off thinking he has the aptitude to counsel teenagers? He must have gone to the same Teacher's College as that horrible Economics teacher from a few episodes ago . . .)
Defeated, Pacey wants to know what his options are. "Summer school, a return engagement of your sophormore year, and, if by some miracle you make it to graduation, a life of leisure . . . until welfare reforms kick in." (Very nice. Where's a hidden tape recorder when you need one?) Pacey doesn't respond. How can he, to such a rotten, degrading statement? The counsellor is just underscoring what he's been told so many times in his life by his family and the Nellie Olsons and Abby Morgans of the school, that he's a big, fat zero. The counsellor even goes so far as to tell Pacey he's disappointed Pacey didn't take the bait and offer some sort of comeback. Miserable, Pacey just throws his head back and sighs.
In the hall, Dawson goes up to Joey and tells her "we've won" (not "I've won", but "we've won" . . . he really does love her, doesn't he?) the Juror's Prize for Best Short Film of the Junior Division in the Boston Film Festival (take that, "Helmets of Glory"!!). The prize is $2500 to put towards their next film, and pre-acceptance in a winter workshop. To her credit, Joey is genuinely thrilled for him. Naturally, Dawson hopes they'll be working together again (he as director and she as producer) in spite of the space thing she wants because they're such a great team. With the prize money, he wants to rent real equipment, get the film finished by summer, travel to festivals with it . . . but unfortunately, Joey bursts his bubble. She's really sorry, but she doesn't think she can do it, between work, school and the art classes she's just signed up for.
To his credit, Dawson is genuinely understanding. He doesn't push it, although his sadness is obvious. Joey tells him he should be thrilled, that it's amazing and incredible. He agrees, he's . . . thrilled, he tells her, albeit a little unconvincingly. She smiles, he leaves, and she her smile fades as he walks down the hall.
But maybe, her smile has faded because of who walks up the hall -- Jack. In a moment of nobility, he's decided he wants to "make things right" between them. "It was a full moon . . . I know that's no excuse, but I'm really sorry . . ." (Oh God, give it a rest already with this nonsense, will you boy? Stop blaming things on lunar cycles and start putting the blame where it belongs, on the moron in the mirror!) He wants to know what to do to get back on track with her, cause the silent treatment is killing him (then she should turn it up full-blast, yeah?). Spouting more cliche, he tells Joey her friendship means a lot to him (Oh Dawson, you got that wastebasket handy for me?) and that she's avoiding him like he has some kind of disease (nah . . . can't make a comment here, it's just too easy).
Joey tells him he got it right at the dance, that she isn't mad at him, but at herself. "Well, get over it already!" Jack tells her in his best RuPaul impersonation. "Personal inner turmoil causes your forehead to wrinkle." (Beauty tips from Jack, good night, I've heard it all now. O-kay, can I just say right here, for the record, that when certain rumours about Jack's, um, preferences come to fruition later on in the season, and everyone starts debating how such a thing could be possible because the writers never gave us any previous indication, I would like to hold this statement up as Exhibit A. Thank you very much.)
Joey laughs at his lame attempt at humour, which causes him to beam. "I've missed hanging out with you," he tells her. (hanging out? You went to one lousy art exhibit! And work hardly counts as hanging out . . .) Before she can respond, the bell rings and they head off in separate directions.
In the caf, Dawson's typing away at his laptop (a LAPTOP? In Grade 10?!). Jen comes over and he inquires about her hangover. She tells him it's "post-Advil" so it's much better. Jen asks what he's doing and he tells her he's typing a script for his next movie, and proudly shows her the cheque. She congratulates him and is equally proud. "How does it feel to be a star of an award-winning movie?" Dawson jokes. Jen tells him it's great, but asks if her dialogue can be expanded next time to include more than "help!" and "aaaah!"
In another part of the caf, Pacey is recounting to Andie the guidance counselling appointment from hell: "Basically, he told me I have no future that doesn't involve the fast food industry." Predictably, Andie is outraged. "Just because you don't fit into some cookie-cutter mould of what the public deems acceptable," she starts off, indignantly. "I mean, Einstein failed Grade 2 because he was bored, and the incompetant, inferior school system couldn't realize that!" Her voice rises to match her passion. "Rather than dismiss someone like you, someone along the way should have taken two seconds to notice and care," she's pretty much shrieking at this point, "because you need to be rescued, not ridiculed!" she finishes, breathless. Pacey is amused at her heartfelt speech, as are most of the other cafeteria patrons, who have stopped eating to listen. "Ladies and gentlemen, Andie McPhee!" Pacey gestures, and the caf crowd breaks out into spontaneous applause.
"Lindley." Chris (remember him, the hot-tub ladies man from last week?) approaches Jen with his buddy Todd in tow. Jen's still at Dawson's table in the caf. "Impressive showing last night," Chris tells her, adding that she's recouped well. Chris tells Jen he's on a mission to recruit people for Todd's shindig that night. "Kegs and eggs," Todd echoes dumbly (obviously, he's as charming and intelligent as his friend), stating they're going to be partying until breakfast. Jen tells them to sign her up, and they leave.
Dawson's not impressed, and asks what Jen's deal with Chris is. "We're just hanging out," she answers defensively, adding that Dawson should save her the character dissection. Jen asks Dawson to go to the party with her, but he sarcastically declines. Now Jen's not impressed. "Don't judge me, Dawson! If you don't want to go, fine, but don't treat me like I'm lost to the other side, like I'm out of control!" she barks. "I'm just having fun. F-U-N. It's a three letter word!" Dawson looks at her wide-eyed. "I didn't say a word," he murmurs. (Between this and his muted conversation with Joey earlier, could our boy be turning over a new leaf? Or is he just so depressed he doesn't care to get in arguments anymore? Hmmm . . .)
Meanwhile, Andie is upset with Pacey's antics (what else is new?). "It isn't funny!" she tells him. "Your entire future is on the line! You're so not nervous, you're making me nervous!" (a scary thought -- Andie in hyper-nervous mode) She continues, telling him if he acts like a joke, people will think of him as such. "They already do," he replies. He's finally figured it out: "I'm not Luke Skywalker, hell, I'm not even Luke Perry (another 90210 dig, I love it!). I'm not a hero, Andie, I am a joke."
Andie, though, refuses to accept that notion, and tells him "I'm not coming to your pity party. You know I don't think you're a joke." But he says it's too late, and he's beyond the point of no return. Andie doesn't accept this either, telling him it's America, and that anyone can invent themselves, just look at Madonna, she does it every week. (again, I could make a snide comment, but it's just too darn easy!) Pacey doesn't know how to reinvent himself, though, that's the problem. "Start from the inside," Andie suggests. "Anyone can change fate. Heroes are made, not born." He looks at her and smiles. She really believes what she's saying, and hopefully, a little of that has rubbed off on him.
Still in the caf, Joey and jerk, er Jack, are getting food. Jack's giving her a not-very-funny (I didn't think) run down of the school specials: "Cha-tow-bree-ond (that hurt my ears, I swear it did. He works in a restaurant and he can't even pronounce chateauxbriand?) with braised baby carrots on a bed of lettuce" (lettuce?! It isn't a burger, pal, it's the finest cut of meat available! And I highly doubt a high school would serve it for lunch, unless it was in Beverly Hills) and for dessert, some "green gelatin of a highly suspicious nature." (yeah, not funny or even original . . .every high school has that!)
Joey calls him a freak (she's letting him off too easily) and he thanks her (?), then thinking he's impressed her with his verbal prowess, asks what she's doing that night. She makes a glib comment about having her driver pick her up, going for a massage and a catered dinner then jetting off to Paris to see the Matisse exhibit at the Louvre. He informs her this exhibit has moved to the MET, and suggests reservations with their favourite hot dog vendor (oh, that's classy) at 8 o'clock.
"Is this a date?" Joey asks in slight shock. "No, it's a dat," he tells her, in what has to be the single-most ridiculous thing I have ever heard to come out of a television character's mouth, ever. "You take the 'e' off date and you get a 'dat'" he says, by way of explanation. Sadly, Joey is impressed with this, and laughs, asking what people do on a 'dat.' Jack babbles that there are no codes of conduct, no etiquette and no rules, except that they have a great time. (Oh Dawson, I need that wastepaper basket again . . .) And yet again, he mentions there will be no full moon (note to DC writers: Can we retire that joke now? Please?) so she'll be safe. She giggles, then tells him that he has a certain charm . . . but that she's going to ignore it and hang out with him anyway. (It's cute, the first sign of the old Joey we've seen this season.)
Satisfied, Jack goes over to Pacey and Andie, telling them he has a "hot date with Joey." (Oh, all of a sudden, it's a "date," is it?) Pacey's face says it all, he wants to finish off what Dawson started at the dance. At least Jack realizes this, and apologizes, saying he knows Dawson is his friend. "Best friend," Pacey corrects, telling Jack to leave him out of it.
Jack asks Andie if it's okay if he goes on the date, seeing as it's supposed to be his night with their mother. Andie tells him to go, and that their mother is doing better, thanks to her new medications. Jack disagrees. "Let's be honest, she pulled a Sybil last week," he notes. Andie is undeterred and urges her brother to go. "I have everything under control," she smiles. (In other words, you know this is gonna end badly. Why is it every time Andie utters those words -- the dance, the study session -- it's a recipe for disaster?)
Finally, we leave the caf. Over at Joey's, she's getting ready for her date, er, dat, when Dawson shows up with a cheque for half the prize money. He wants her to have it, because she deserves it in his opinion. He adds that his intentions are purely honourable, he isn't asking for anything except for her to be happy (which in itself is a tall order). Seeing as she could really use it, she gratefully takes it. He tells her he believes in her and always has.
Then, seeing as she's dressed up, he asks if she's going somewhere. Instantly, tension floods the air again after the bittersweetness of the preceding conversation. "Hanging out with a friend," she replies. It isn't a lie, but it isn't exactly the truth, either. Dawson leaves, but as he's halfway down her garden path, she calls after him. He runs back, hopeful (you can see it in his eyes). Joey takes a deep breath. "I wish things could get back to normal and we could be friends again," she tells him. He pauses, ingesting this statement, then breaks into a small smile. "I'd like that."
He leaves again, but she calls after him again. "And whatever kind of movie you decide to make . . . I know it'll be great." He smiles. "It's a love story. Boy meets girl, boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back." "Dawson . . ." Joey cautions. "What can I say?" he replies, "I'm a sucker for happy endings." Watch carefully -- Katie's facial expressions in this scene are fantastic, very geniune and totally convincing.
As soon as those words are out of his mouth, guess who comes along to stomp out Dawson's happy ending? (boy, you're clever!) Jack trounces up the path, just as Dawson's coming down it. "Hey." "Hey." They continue on their ways. On the porch, Joey closes her eyes, she was dreading this. Jack comes up and asks if everything's okay, to which she replies it is, and invites him in. After Jack enters the house, Joey stares after Dawson's retreating figure.
The mystery of what Mitch was going to do with his warehouse until the aquatic restaurant is built is solved -- he's turned it into a pretty nifty-looking loft, complete with chain-link fencing cordoning off the bedroom area. (kinky!) Dawson brings in the last moving box and starts to leave, but Mitch asks him to stay and hang out. "Working that friend angle?" Dawson ribs him gently. "I'm trying," Mitch says, adding that the two of them have always been able to talk, and he doesn't want that to change. Dawson agrees, so Mitch starts a conversation: "How's Joey?" (strike one) "Dumped me and is falling for some other guy. Next!" "How's Jen?" (strike two) "Probably drunk and stuck to the sidewalk somewhere." Dawson isn't waiting around for strike three, though, he tells Mitch this isn't going to work.
Mitch replies that while Dawson doesn't have to like his decisions, he does ask his son to respect them. That's a word Dawson's been hearing a little too much of lately, and this was the straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back time. "All I ever do is respect other's wishes!" he explodes. "And while it makes others feel good, it makes me feel like hell, and I'm sick of it!" Mitch reasons that the reason for that is because Dawson is considering the outcomes, not the intentions. "No one is out to get you, certainly not me," Mitch tells him. Mitch then gives Dawson a key to the apartment, and tells him to think of it as his own place.
Dawson accepts it, then leaves, but turns around. "You want me to be open and honest?" he asks. "I don't want a friend or a buddy, I want a father. Can you respect that?" he demands. "I guess I'll have to," Mitch replies. (You know, I don't know what Mitch's problem is, Dawson is perfectly reasonable in wanting and needing his father still in his life. Why is Mitch being so difficult about continuing to play the role he is meant to play in his son's life? There are enough guys out there who don't have fathers, and here's poor Dawson trying to hang on to his, and Mitch's giving him a hard time. I thought Mitch's "I guess I'll have to" statement was really selfish.)
Over at Jen's house, she's painting her toes some godforsaken shade when Dawson approaches and asks if the party invitation is still open. Jen's surprised he wants to go, but he tells her he needs it. "Run in with Joey, huh?" she asks. "That obvious?" he replies. Jen tells him he can come, but he must have an open mind and not bitch and moan about her partying habits. (sounds kinda like what she told her Grams about religion). Dawson tells her he can do that . . . to some degree . . . maybe.
Jen has another condition too: "This is not a date." (my, my, she's come a long way from episode one, hasn't she?) She tells Dawson, "You're way too far gone as a rebound case for me to be remotely interested." He doesn't think of himself as such, but she tells him, "You are so on the rebound you're practically bouncing." (cute!) Dawson offers to pick her up, but she turns the tables and tells him she'll pick him up. "This could be good," she muses. "You, me, together again . . ." (okay, maybe she hasn't come that far from the first episode) Now it's Dawson's turn to remind her. "It isn't a date, remember?" "And I'm not interested, remember?" (and I'm Queen Elizabeth, remember?) Dawson leaves, and so does Jen's fake smile, after he's out of sight.
Fast forward to the party. It's outdoors and Jen and Dawson are wading through the bodies. "Don't judge!" she reminds him, to which he answers, "I'm not, I'm observing . . . the destruction of young America." Jen reminds him it's supposed to be fun, when along come Chris and Todd, to prove just how much "fun" it's supposed to be. Chris throws Jen a beer and pulls her inside the house to dance. Jen tosses an "Enjoy yourself! Have fun!" over her shoulder to Dawson, who stares through the screen door at Chris fondling Jen as they dance, Todd close behind.
Over at Andie's, Mrs. McPhee is making like Martha Stewart out in the garden. Pacey approaches, and tells her he's come to study U.S. History with Andie. Mrs. McPhee nods. "If Tim were here, you could get help from him. It's one of his favourite subjects." Andie shows up just then, she's overheard this last sentence and is panicked. She leads Pacey off by the hand, but not before her mother can ask if she could make a sandwich for them. Andie declines.
Inside the house, Pacey says he thought her mother was getting better. "She is, she just slips sometimes," Andie replies. "But she talks about your brother like he's still here," Pacey tells her. "She has good days and bad days," Andie notes. "What day is this?" Pacey wonders, and Andie cautions him. He apologizes.
Andie's room is exactly the way you'd think it would be -- strewn with ribbons, awards and trophies. "The only thing I've ever won came out of a cereal box," Pacey marvels. "How do you do all this? I mean, I know you're a Type-A personality, but on top of everything, you take care of your family and still find time to rescue a guy like me. Aren't you tired?" "You do what you gotta do," Andie says modestly with a shrug. She launches into a speech about her study habits, and how she usually builds in room for a margin of error into her work, but that Pacey doesn't have room for that. "You're hanging on to the 10th Grade by a thread, one Cliff Note away from complete and utter disaster --" "I get it," Pacey mutters.
Meanwhile, the other McPhee is attempting to woo Joey with a hot dog and a free light show in the sky, courtesy of huge flashes of heat lightning, which Jack considers Nature's version of performance art. "I almost got hit by lightning when I was little," he tells Joey. (So close, yet so far . . . sigh) Jack tells her how he was in the park, playing freeze tag and he was so close to the lightning, he could smell the ground burning. (what he doesn't know, is that he was tagged deliberately by the other kids to freeze when they saw the lightning coming) Jack adds that since then, lightning has fascinated him. (I can't comment here, to be perfectly fair, cause I really like it too) In a not-so-subtle, read-between-the-lines explanation of why he likes lightning so much, he tells Joey: "It's when opposite charges are attracting so much that the force that fills the air gets to be too much and it kind of breaks down."
Joey speaks for more than just herself when she tells him, "Why is it that you know things that normal people don't, and what normal people are supposed to know, you have no idea about?" He asks if she ever gets bored and watches the Weather Channel. She laughs, and tells him about the time she and Dawson tried to replicate Ben Franklin's experiment with the kite and the key, and and they almost electrocuted themselves . . . oops. Not a good idea to mention the ex-boyfriend on a date with someone new. (But I thought this was a dat, not a date, and there were supposed to be no rules? Besides, considering what Jack did to make help put that "ex" in front of said boyfriend, I think he has a bloody cheek to get all sad that Joey brought Dawson's name up.)
Joey apologizes but Jack tells her he knows she and Dawson have a history: "he made that clear when he punched me." (well DUH! What did you expect?!) Joey defends Dawson, telling Jack that to Dawson, everything is a movie where the hero always punches out the bad guy -- not that Jack's the bad guy . . . "He was just upset," Jack finishes for her. "Yeah." Jack says he would be too, if he let Joey slip through his fingers (wrong again, loser, Dawson didn't do any such thing, it was Joey who chose to slip through those fingers, NOT Dawson).
Joey comments that she saw the look Dawson gave Jack at her house today. Jack replies that it was like being in the movies, and that he felt like Dawson was John Wayne and had challenged him to a duel at sunset. He adds that he'd be up for such a challenge, too, because somethings are worth fighting for. (Groan. I need that wastepaper bin again. Can't this guy open his mouth without spouting a cliche?) Joey doesn't know how to respond to that, so she just sneaks a sideways look at him and laughs a bit. They continue watching the lightning show.
Meanwhile, Jen is getting a little too friendly with Todd. In the distance, Chris the creep asks Dawson if he's getting a little "post-Joey action" with Jen. Dawson replies she's a friend, and Chris agrees that Jen's a good friend to have. "You're about as subtle as you are genuine, aren't you?" Dawson asks rhetorically. "What you see is what you get," Chris shrugs. "Cleary." Dawson replies curtly. He watches Jen as Michael Stipe and the rest of REM belt out some pretty appropriate lyrics: "You're looking for salvation, you're looking for deliverance . . . (forgot one line, sorry) you no longer care . . ."
Over at Andie's one-on-one study session, Pacey is lamenting her teaching methods, which are to highlight passages of the text that might be on a test. "How do you know what's important enough to be on a test?" he whines. "Whose job is it to determine which passages of U.S. History are important enough to get the attention of a yellow high-lighter?" Andie groans he's giving her a headache. The phone rings -- saved by the bell. Or not . . . answering it, she panicks after a few moments. "Please don't call the police (which ironically, would be Pacey's dad! Sorry, I just thought that was cute), I'll be there in five minutes!" She hangs up, stricken. Her mum's jumped head-first off the deep-end again at the supermarket.
Pacey and Andie rush to the store, where the owner is apologetic, telling Andie that though she likes her and Jack and feels sorry for them, this is the third time this has happened, and it simply isn't good for business. Amid a crowd of gawking bystanders (probably those related to Chris, Nellie, Abby, the guidance counsellor, et al.), Mrs. McPhee is babbling about her husband. "Call my husband . . . he takes care of things . . ." she repeats over and over.
Poor Andie is beside herself. She tries to get her mother to leave, but she won't budge. She begs her to stop it, but Mrs. McPhee can't. Andie's at the end of her rope. Pacey tries to help, he steps in and gently asks Mrs. McPhee if she remembers him. She does. He asks if she's picking up groceries. She is. He asks if she wants help, and puts a bag of marshmellows ("a food group all on its own," he muses) in her little basket.
Mrs. McPhee tells him he doesn't want the marshmellows (typical mother, even when she's having a nervous breakdown, she still cares about junk food!), and says she has roast beef and turkey in her fridge. Pacey replies that that sounds like a triple-decker club sandwich, and asks her gently if she would make a sandwich for him. She smiles and says she will. "Excellent," he smiles. "You, Mrs. McPhee, are my saviour." He puts an arm around her, gives her shopping basket to Andie, and guides her mother out of the store. (Maybe Pacey should consider a career as a counsellor! He could teach the one at his school a thing or two)
Meanwhile, back at the party, Dawson sees Jen go upstairs, with Todd and Chris in tow. Naturally, five-alarm fire bells go off in his mind, and he follows, pushing past couples who are weaving in and out of bedrooms. He hears voices coming from one room and bursts in on Jen, sandwiched between Todd and Chris, her shirt open, but otherwise fully dressed. Still, it's obvious where this is going. "Hey Dawson, you wanna play?" Chris asks. Dawson strides across the room, picks up Jen over his shoulder, caveman-style and drags her out of the house. (yet he still finds the time to say "'scuse me" to Todd and Chris before doing so . . . and he wonders why Pacey was comparing him to Jimmy Stewart!)
Outside, Jen is less than grateful. In fact, she's ticked. "Put me down!" she shouts a thousand times. She's so livid (not to mention drunk) she's spluttering. "I cannot believe you! I cannot even believe you!" Jen storms off angrily down the lawn. When Dawson asks where she's going, she tells him home. "You're going the wrong way," he points out. She turns around and runs past him, but he tells her to stop. "Why? So you can explain this? Why you pull the plug on anybody who's having a good time?" Dawson tells her she's not happy, she's just avoiding dealing with the fact that she's unhappy.
Jen begs to differ. "Look at you!" she shouts. "You don't mess around or drink, and you're the unhappiest person I know!" Dawson says he'd take his melancholy over what she's doing any day, because at least his is real, and he's not pretending to have a good time. Jen insists she isn't pretending and that she is having a good time. And then, to underscore her point, she promptly throws up, all over Todd's parents' white picket fence.
But at least she's got a sense of humour about it. She starts laughing, pointing out the irony of a bad girl vomiting over a white picket fence in the first place. (those writers, they're too clever!) Dawson is less than enthused. "Don't be disgusted with me," she tells him. "Deal with me. Accept me, and the fact that there are people in the world who don't need saving." He dismisses her rantings as just drunken rambling, but she tells him to listen to her. "I have tried to live my life like you. But I don't have that sort of . . . hope. But I guess if everyone did, people like you wouldn't be so special," she finishes sadly.
"You're special," Dawson tells her. "No, you just want me to be," Jen replies. But he's adamant. "If you weren't so special, you wouldn't be so miserable." Dawson hugs her and kisses her forehead, innocently. Jen tells him she can't go home, and he whispers into her hair that he knows a place they can go. He does well as the big-brother type, it's sweet. (Ironic, because if this scene were taking place around this time last season, Dawson wouldn't be so calm. He's got a drunken Jen in his arms and the key to his dad's loft . . . you do the math) Jen whispers okay, and they head off down the road, his arm around her shoulder, and for a split second, you almost forget they aren't a couple.
On to the other couple, the one you should never forget aren't a couple, not even for a split second -- Jack and Joey. At her home, she tells him the evening was . . . unique. He's worried: "unique good or unique weird?" "Unique fun." (there's that word again . . . fun. Obviously, Joey and Jen have very different definitions of fun) She tells him she has to go inside, and he give her a small kiss (on the lips, no less. Yeah, sure it isn't a date . . .) After, he asks her if she's going to stop speaking to him again, and she says no, he's safe . . . it's a crescent moon.
He asks if they can hang out again, and she replies perhaps, if she doesn't get engrossed in the Weather Channel, that is. He tells her not to knock the Weather Channel until she's tried it. (You know, I always wondered what sort of person watched the Weather Channel recreationally . . . now I know and all is revealed) Joey tells him, much to her own surprise (she doesn't say this, it's in her voice and face), that she had a really nice time tonight. He beams at her and leaves. She mulls over the evening for a moment, then goes inside.
Over at the McPhee residence, Andie tucks her mum into bed. Pacey notes how her mother is out like a light, and Andie replies, "She goes way up . . . then crashes." Pacey's more concerned about Andie though, and asks if she's going to be okay. Andie, meanwhile is more concerned about him: "Look at you -- you take care of your mum, you saved me . . . you proved yourself wrong tonight, you can do anything. What you did for me was nothing short of spectacular . . . I'm proud of you."
Pacey smiles and laughs softly a bit. When Andie wants to know why, he tells her he's not used to hearing those words directed at me. After a second or two of silence, he says, "Come on." She wants to know where they're going. "Upstairs, to your bedroom." And just what does he have in mind, she wonders. "What do you think?" he replies. She chides him. "What! I have three more chapters to read. Let's go!" They head up the stairs, holding hands.
Over at Mitch's loft, father and son are chatting in the kitchen. Mitch asks how Jen is and Dawson says he thinks she'll be okay. He then tells his father he knows he's been hard on him, but it's just that, to him, his dad is some larger-than-life, Harrison Ford ideal. Mitch replies that no one can live up to that image, not even Harrison Ford himself, and that in reality, people are flawed. Mitch says he can be a father to Dawson, and if Dawson lets him, a friend too. It's his son's call. Dawson agrees, and they smile at each other.
Dawson takes some water in to Jen, who is drowsy in Mitch's bed, in Mitch's pajama top. (Okay, where are Mitch and Dawson sleeping, that's what I'd like to know, and number two, where is GRAMS? Surely to God, Grams would not let Jen the wild thing out of her sight overnight? Seems like Grams has joined Bodie and even Bessie and been put out to pasture for a while . . . either that, or she's become severly reclusive in her widowhood) Anyway, Dawson gives Jen the water with a greeting of "Hey there, tiger." She gratefully accepts it, and tells him "Dawson Leery, you're my hero." (a la Ferris Bueller's Day Off, methinks . . . at least that's what popped into my mind when I saw it)
Jen then asks how Dawson's latest movie ends. He replies he doesn't know because he hasn't written it yet. She tells him, if he's looking for editorial advice, not to make it have a happy ending, because in reality, happy endings are bogus, pat and totally unrealistic. Things never end happy in real life. (sadly, I must agree) Dawson tells her to get some sleep, and that she will feel better in the morning. Wistfully, she says she wishes that were true. As he leaves, she reiterates her request. "No happy ending, Dawson."
Taking that notion to heart, the closing scene is in Dawson's bedroom. We pan across to the open window (for a horrible moment, I had a sick feeling Dawson was going to be in his bed, and Lolita the lush was going to be left at Mitch's loft with Mitch . . .). The room is empty. Joey climbs in (ladder back in it's proper place, an olive branch from Dawson, one assumes?), and announces herself. But he isn't there. Joey's smile fades. She picks up the stuffed Jaws shark on his bed they used to play with as children, then puts it down and climbs out the window, a sad little smile on her face. For the first time in her life, Dawson isn't there for her, and it's all her own doing. She has no one to blame but herself.
We're left wondering what she would have told him? About her and Jack, now that she and Dawson are supposed to be "friends" again? Or that Jack doesn't measure up to him and she's been having second thoughts? Or that she misses him? Or something entirely different? He's been there for her 1000 per cent, it's a rude little reality slap to her when she expects to find him in his room, her safe haven from the world, and he's just not. He's out, off having a life of his own. Music from the Goo Goo dolls frames the scene and fits it perfectly:
Fade to black . . .