The two of them sit on Dawson's bed, solemnly and earnestly discussing how to proceed with this new development in their relationship. "I love you," Dawson tells Pacey in a trembling voice. Pacey can't believe his ears. "After all these years, you couldn't find the time to let the Freudian cat slip out of the bag?" Dawson admits it's nonsensical and insane, but Pacey just has no idea how long Dawson's wanted to say those words. Pacey replies that he needs time to process, that while his brain is telling him one thing, his heart is telling him another -- in fact, his heart is telling him he should consider the "possibly damaging, highly unrational, unequivocable proposition of ... actually loving (Dawson) back."
While viewers sit there, dumbfounded and slack-jawed, Dawson leans in towards Pacey. Closer ... closer ... then at the last minute, he bypasses his best friend's lips to reach for a document that is resting on the table beside Pacey. We've been had. It's Dawson's movie script, and the two of them have been practising lines from it. It's quite a clever opening scene actually, not only for the initial sheer bewilderment of trying to fathom what the hell is going on, but it's also classic foreshadowing / stage-setting for a certain sexuality-based struggle concerning a certain other male character on the show ...
But back to the present. Dawson chides Pacey for skipping a line, to which Pacey replies he isn't at all comfortable playing the girl in this little scenario. Moreover, he thinks Dawson's dialogue sounds more like psychobabble than how teens actually talk -- it contains too many syllables. (another example of KevinWilliamson's self-depreciating wit at work: when DC began last year, one of the biggest criticisms from the media was that the vocabulary was far too sophisticated for mere 15-year-olds)
Pacey also comments that in the script, Dawson has made Joey's character a little too angry, even for her. Immediately, Dawson protests that the character isn't based on Joey at all, but Pacey's not buying it. "Right, right," he scoffs. "The girl's not Joey, the guy's not you, you're not dissecting your relationship just like every other narcissistic writer throughout history!" Indeed, the script reads very much like a Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (James Joyce ... look it up). Regardless, though, Pacey does like the script, proclaiming it very "dark, obtuse and un-Dawson Leery like."
Dawson's pleased that Pacey enjoyed it, in fact, Dawson admits that he also likes it, because it's the first time that he's written something that isn't just plot-driven, it's emotionally driven as well. Pacey congratulates the budding Speilberg on his evolution but offers a suggestion: He thinks Dawson should ride the edge a little, and make the two main characters should have sex, even though Joey and Dawson didn't go down that road in real life.
It's a suggestion Dawson considers perhaps for a millisecond, then immediately dismisses, citing all those predictable teen movies where the characters go at it like rabbits. He thinks that's the safe choice, the easy choice, and wants to take the high road and the riskier, edgier choice by having his two young protagonists not jump into the sack. "Only you could turn your virgin insecurities and fear of deflowerment into edgy, risky behaviour," Pacey chortles. Dawson replies that he's perfectly fine with being a virgin, and he's sorry if his confidence and convictions discombobulate his sexually enlightened friend. "Dis-com-bob-u-late," Pacey muses. "How many syllables is that?" For his cheekiness, he gets the book thrown at him, literally. (well, the script, at any rate)
Cut to Capeside High, where Director Dawson and Producer Jen are handing out flyers announcing upcoming auditions for the movie. Dawson is pleased Jen is able to distribute so many of them and capture the student body's interest so well. He proclaims her a natural, but she tells him she's no Joey. It's the first of several occasions where this is brought to his mind throughout the episode.
The two of them scout the school population for potential leading men and ladies for the production. Dawson considers one James Lowell, a clean cut, all-American guy, to possess the essential qualities for the main role, but Jen ixnays the suggestion. "But he's like Jimmy Stewart meets Tom Hanks!" Dawson aruges. "Yeah, and about as sexy as a bucket," Jen sneers. (A bucket? O-kay ... interesting analogy ...) Jen was thinking more along the lines of the dark and brooding Dave Puchelli, who possesses a certain appeal of his own, which Dawson capsulizes succintly: "Ray Liotta meets a sewer rat." Clearly their visions of the pefect leading man differ.
Jen reminds Dawson that people go to the movies to see slightly dangerous characters that they desparately want to sleep with, but won't in real life. Sexy always wins out over nice, she reminds him (personally, I beg to differ), adding that everyone casts Tom Hanks, and that Dawson should make a less obvious choice. (She's got a point, but the rebel-without-a-cause style is not what Dawson's after. Seeing as this is an autobiographical flick, he should be aiming for the rebel-without-a-clue type instead)
Meanwhile, inside the school, Pacey races up to Andie, proudly displaying the results of a test he actually passed with flying colours ... his HIV test. It's negative, which is a positive in his book. Andie marvels that he acutally took the test in the first place, even though she told him to, but is proud of him for being so responsible. Nipping any prospective amourous advances in the bud, she continues that he shouldn't think that just because he's been tested that they're going to ... you know. "What?" Pacey asks in mock-innocence. "You know!" Andie replies, flushed with embarrassment.
He's not going to let her off the hook so easily, it's too much fun to watch her squirm. (hey, he told her himself, she brings out the sadist in him!) "Really, McPhee ... I have no idea what you're talking about," he smiles at her sweetly. Fumbling for the right words, Andie goes into babble mode: "Look, Pacey ... I know we haven't been very physical or anything ... and while I'm not opposed to the idea ... there's a perfect time and place for everything ..."
Pacey tells his main squeeze to relax, and that he's not about to engage in any any "unhibited scrunking" with her. (scrunking?! hmm ... that's a new one. kinda like a combination of screwing and fu ... ohhhh. I geddit!). He also adds that he got tested as much for himself as he did for her. She takes this to mean that he doesn't want to sleep with her at all, so using that typically insecure mindset that we females do so well when we embark on a new relationship, she asks him that age-old question, "Don't you find me attractive?" Of course he does. "Don't you want to?" she asks, bewildered. And in that classic vulnerable mindset that you males do so well when you embark on a new relationship, he answers a question with a question: "Do you?" Andie notes that she asked first, and Pacey replies that he's asking back. (Funny how courtship rituals in Grade 10 are the same as they are in Grade 1 ...)
Setting the record straight once and for all, Pacey responds that he would like to "scrunk" with Andie any day of the week, but they have all the time in the world to do that. (I should think so! They've been going out like, what? Two months?) Much relieved, Andie hears him and concurs ... but if it were the right time and place, he'd want to ... right? "Oh hell, yes!" he grins. "Okay," she nods. "Good." More nodding. "Until then ..." she gives him a light kiss and wanders off to her next class. "Until then," Pacey gazes after her wistfully.
Finally! A scene all we deprived Joey and Dawson junkies have been craving for weeks .. the two of them finally communicate! They actually speak to each other! Granted, it isn't about them and their relationship, but it's something, nonetheless. And it's actually kind of cute. Dawson spots Joey outside and makes a beeline for her. To his surprise, she's drawing a male nude. "Graduated from fruit bowls," he notes. Joey replies that she's supposed to see the human form as a mass of lines and shadows. Dawson peers at her latest sketch. "Really?" he asks, a little surprised. "Well ... I'm working on it," she grins.
Dawson asks if she finds it uncomfortable to sit in class in front of a naked guy. "It's a model," Joey corrects. Dawson's fascinated with the concept, and asks if the guy talks at all during the class. "Yeah, he sings, he talks, he does a little softshoe ... no, he just sits there," she teases. "And little Joey Potter doesn't blush?" Dawson marvels. When Joey insists she doesn't, Dawson won't leave it alone. He knows her better than that. "Not even a little?" Joey admits that okay, maybe she does a little. Dawson's still not finished with her yet, though. "A little?" he needles gently. "Okay, I've broken 12 pencils!" she laughs. "But I'm getting better ... I'm changing. I'm not little Joey Potter anymore," she tells him. Casting an appraising look over her (Katie looked absolutely beautiful in this scene, I thought), Dawson agrees with her assessment. "No," he says softly. "You're certainly not."
That old spark is back between them, and just for an instant, we can feel the pent-up emotion and tension just bubbling under the surface. But of course, it can't last, and the spell is broken by none other than Jen, who is busily handing out more flyers nearby, conscripting more potential actors for the movie. "Jen's your producer," Joey notes with a subtle twinge of jealousy. "Yeah ... we're busy ..." Dawson replies awkwardly, almost guiltily. When Joey asks what the movie is about, Dawson's uncomfortableness increases. "It's about a young boy who comes of age in a small town," he answers vaguely. Joey wishes him luck with it and Dawson bolts, probably before he says or does something he regrets. "Gotta go, time is money," he splutters and walks off purposefully. Hmph. Spoken like a true Hollywood Exec in training ...
Back to the school hallways (doesn't anyone go to class anymore?), where losing sophormore class presidential candidate Chris approaches Abby, losing sophormore class vice-presidential candidate. When he asks if she's going to try out for a role in Dawson's movie, Abby replies with her usual charm and wit. "Participate in Dawson Leery's lame home video project? Doubtful." Chris notes that the film has got financing and will probably make the rounds of the festival circuit. "There's an opportunity for Hollywood exposure," he notes. He thinks he's a good actor (adequate, I'd say) and the way he sees it, actors get action. (ole Chris is thinking with his little head again ...)
"Yeah, right!" Abby replies with her trademark eye-rolling sneer. "You're suffering from delusions of Brad Pitt-itis." Undeterred, Chris wants to know if Abby will consider reading with him, after all, they could have "serious chemistry" together. But even appealing to the girl's ego and libido don't work. "You want to audition with me? Salivate elsewhere, I couldn't be less interested!" she barks disdainfully.
Meanwhile, Jack the art connoisseur offers his two cents worth on Joey's latest sketch. Joey doesn't want him to look at the drawing, but he chides her, telling her he's seen a naked guy before (yeah, I'll just bet ...). "Yeah, but not one drawn with the talent of a second-grader," she replies. Jack can't be stopped though, and predictably, his comments are pretentiously positive and gushing: "Good use of light and dark, especially around the thigh (given his subconscious sexual proclivities, it figures he'd notice that area first) ... very dramatic ... the shading's excellent ... everything seems to be in proportion (ooooh, I'm just dying to make a comment here, but I won't) ..." Then, in classic Jack fashion, our high-school Picasso proceeds to spill his beverage (coffee? chocolate milk? it was light brown, that's all I remember) all over Joey's work of art. Sigh ... back to the drawing board, literally.
Fast forward to after school, where Jen and Dawson are auditioning roles for the movie. The usual suspects show their faces, including an ugly girl with a nasal voice, stringy hair and braces; a dumb jock who can't pronounce anything above a monosyllable; a gum-chewing shrill-voiced cheerleader; a tongue-tied hippie chick; a creepy bespectacled guy; a melodramatic diva and assorted other freaks who either cough, laugh or stand there, mutely. Amid it all, our dynamic duo look pained, pissed and stressed to the max. Incidentally, in this episode (and particularly this scene for some reason), Jen reminds me of Sting from the Police, circa 1981 (it must be the haircut).
Over and out to Joey and Jack, the latter of which is apologizing yet again for his bumbling, oafish ways. The sketch is ruined, much to Joey's chagrin. "I'm already the youngest and least experienced in the class, now I'm going to get an incomplete on my first assignment!" she laments. Jack asks if she can just redraw it, and her response is classic: "Not from memory! It's a nude man, Jack, I can't just recall it from thin air!" She's speaking, of course, about "the pose, the lighting, the shadows and the composition," but I think one could be forgiven for assuming she was thinking of other things. :)
Jack has an unusual response to Joey's dilemma. In a bold statement that turned the stomachs of most viewers (I took an informal poll), he offers to pose for her. Nude. "You want to pose for me, naked," she restates, shaking her head in disbelief. Jack brushes it off as no big deal, but to Joey, apparently, it's a huge deal. "Let me think about that," she tells him. "Uhhhhh ... no." Slamming her locker, she walks off down the hall in disbelief.
But Jack, in a display of nobility or perversion (I'm not sure which), insists. He asks what will happen if she doesn't turn in a drawing, and she replies that she'll get an F, not to mention feelings of embarrassment and tremendous inadequacy. That settles it in his mind, but not so much in hers. "Are you afraid of seeing me naked?" he asks. (Surprisingly) She tells him he's wrong. (She obviously isn't speaking for millions of female viewers out there, and I'm willing to bet, more than a few males, too) "Well, are you afraid it might get sexual?" he challenges. At least she puts him in his place with her answer: "You know, Jack, believe it or not, not every moment with you is sexually charged!" she snaps.
She's given him an "in" with that statement, though, basically telling him that she can handle it. "It should be no problem then," he tells her calmly, almost egging her on to come up with a reason to the contrary. "You're serious?" she asks, dumbfounded. He replies that he is, and that he feels just awful about it, that he feels huge guilt about things like this. He also tells her not to feel weird about seeing him in his birthday suit, cause he doesn't. (Well, duh! He initiated it, of course he doesn't feel weird about it, hell, if I were a guy and I'd gotten a girl I liked to fall for a scam like that, I'd feel pretty good about it too!)
"I don't think this is a good thing for us ..." Joey protests again. "Come on, Joey," Jack coaxes. "It'll be strictly professional. This is your art." (ohhhh, he's a sly one, that Jack. He struck out using the lack-of-sexual-tension angle, he struck out using the I-feel-so-guilty angle, now he's gonna use the art angle, knowing she can't possibly resist. Why, that little ...) And predictably, she concedes. "Well ... I guess the male form is the male form ..."
Jack's no slouch. He's not about to wait around for her mind to waver again. "Good! It's settled!" he says firmly, adding that he'll be by her house around seven the next evening. As he walks off down the hallway and into the crowd, the camera cuts back to Joey, who -- like viewers around the world -- is still standing there, mouth agape.
At the drugstore, Andie picks up her anti-depressant prescription. The pharmacist begins to explain the dosage and side-effects, but she interrupts, telling him she's more than familiar with it. As she goes to exit the store, she's greeted with the usual affectionate opener from her one true love. "Hey McPhee, what's shaking?" Pleased as she is to see Pacey, she doesn't want him to know about her pill-popping. He can see she's hiding something, and asks what's in the bag. When she protests, he grabs it from her and reads the prescription.
"Xanax ... 2 tablets, twice a day ... 20 milligrams ... it's like Prozac, isn't it? It's for severe depression and anxiety .." Andie replies that it's her mother's prescription, and that they share the same first name, Andria. Given that he knows her mother's mental state, Pacey has no trouble swallowing that one, and even apologizes for prying.
To change the subject, Andie asks him what he's doing in the drugstore. He replies that he's merely picking up "stuff." Andie's a smart cookie, though, and notes that he's picking up "stuff" ... in the condom section. "Oh ... wow, that's very odd," Pacey says in amazement. "I had no idea ... it's like a sign the love gods are trying to help us out or something!" "Hmmm, no. That'd be you," Andie replies. In his defense, Pacey suggests that he was hoping a little innuendo would lead to something a little more ... tangible.
Andie tells him that she's all for discovering the physical side of Pacey Witter, she's just not prepared for it yet. He suggests that in order to be "prepared," they buy some condoms, and tosses a box to her. "Designed for her pleasure," she reads out loud. "How do they know?" Pacey suggests that maybe they were designed by women (doubtful) and she giggles, slightly embarrassed.
He was joking earlier by handing her the box, but now he's got her thinking. "Should we get some?" she asks. Pacey can't believe his ears. Andie thinks that they should be prepared (like all good boy scouts) in case the mood strikes, and then they'll be ready. She adds that they can be adults about this. "You're serious?" Pacey asks in a voice that combines shock, disbelief and extreme excitement. "Well," Andie shrugs, "it's not a bad idea to have some on standby," (Considering what a control freak she is, her logic makes perfect sense) and bounces down the aisle determinedly. Pacey runs after her, beaming. "You are serious!"
At the casting call, Chris and Abby are on stage, preparing to read. Somehow, Chris convinced Little Miss Thang to audition with him. But first, Casanova Chris has a quick question for Mr. Writer / Director Leery: "I don't understand why the characters don't do it. I mean, you have the hot foreplay, but they never hook up!" Dawson's momentarily at a loss, Chris is re-echoing Pacey's (and to a lesser extent, Jen's) earlier criticism. Maybe it's a virgin versus non-virgin thing, but Dawson remains absolutely firm in his decision that his leading man and lady are not going to do the deed. "Your character believes true love goes beyond the physical," he tells Chris. Abby, never one to not offer her opinion, suggests Dawson reconsider and do a rewrite because it's a little too heady for her liking.
Dawson asks if they can just go on with the read-through, and surprisingly, it goes very well. When it comes time for the characters to kiss, however, things start to fall apart. After locking lips for a few moments, Abby pulls away, screeching. "What the hell was that, you freak!!" While Chris tries to act like he doesn't know what she's talking about, and reminds her the kiss was in the script, Abby shouts that his tongue was in her mouth. "I was just trying to get into my role," Mr. One-track-dirt-track-mind explains. "More like trying to get into my pants," Abby corrects, and storms off in a huff. Exit Greta Garbo, stage left. Hmph, for someone who professes to be so experienced, you'd think she'd be a little more receptive ...
Outside the pharmacy, Andie and Pacey are still talking about condoms, or more to the point, why you'd buy them in the first place. In fact, Andie's launched into a description of her ideal First Time Experience. "I've put a lot of thought into this," she tells Pacey. "I want my first time to be special. Dinner at a French restaurant, a stroll along the dock, then an historic bed and breakfast --" "A bed and breakfast?" Pacey interjects. "It's my fantasy," she tells him flatly. "Go with it." Continuing, she adds that lavender candles and Frank Sinatra would complete the evening. (hmmm ... substitute vanilla for lavender and Chris Isaak or Harry Connick Jr. for Sinatra, and she may just have something there ...)
Pacey jokingly asks if bathroom breaks are scheduled in, or if the poor guy will have to hold it all night, but Andie doesn't think it's a laughing matter. "Deciding to lose my virginity is a huge thing," she scolds him gently. "I'n not going to lose it in a drunken fleeting moment in the back seat of some skanky, late-model car." "Damn," Pacey laughs. "Steal all my best love-making secrets, why don't you?" Andie smiles, but she's very serious. "I'm going to remember this for the rest of my life, and if we put a little planning into it, it will ensure it's worth remembering."
The girl's got a point, and even Pacey can see it. "I know with my tainted past, I'm not the most likely of candidates," he begins, "but if and when you decide it is the right time for you ... I'd like to be the one to help make it a memorable evening." "Witter, when you talk like that, it makes me want to jump you," Andie replies softly. I couldn't have put it better myself. :)
Post-auditions, we find Dawson and Jen commiserating over the misery of the try-outs. "It's so frustrating to have the time and money, but it still might not happen!" Dawson shouts. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Jen slips in an obtuse comment about how that situation mirrors the script. Dawson's as confused as the rest of us, when he asks her to clarify, she tells him that it's just like him and Joey. "You're in love with her for 15 years, and just when you're about to have her, you lose her."
Again, Dawson insists the script isn't about Joey and him (oh, give it up already, man!), but Jen points out that it virtually reads like an autobiography. She remarks how funny it is, because Jen thought she and Dawson had something, too, but even with her flair for the dramatic, her role has been reduced to the first act. (Any bets on how long Jen was going to keep up that "friendship only" ruse end NOW) In his typical clueless fashion, Dawson can't see he's being taken for a ride and falls right into her trap, telling her she was important to him. "Was I?" she goads. "Really. Absolutely. More than you know," he responds.
Seeing as they're "friends," Jen has a question for him. "What did you like about me?" she asks. It's fairly open-ended, but Dawson chooses to tell her they had fun together, and that she opened him up to new stuff, like skinny-dipping. "You were sexy," he concludes. (D-oh! Wrong grammatical tense, pal!) Jen picks up on this straight away. "Were?" she wonders. "Are ... are," he corrects himself.
Sensing she's scored a minor victory, Jen pushes forward a little theory. Superficially, she's talking about the movie, but reading between the lines, there's a very different interpretation to her words. She tells Dawson she thinks Chris and Abby were right about the script, and that the two young lovers should do it. "It's about romance, not sex!" Dawson proclaims in frustration. "Sex can be romantic, Dawson," Jen replies. "Think of your target audience!" (Another sly self-depreciating dig from the DC gang o'writers?)
Dawson will have none of it, however, and cites his pat line about making the less obvious choice for the script. Jen enigmatically states that if Dawson hadn't gone for the less obvious girl, then the ending to his script would be less obvious. (translation: Joey is a "good girl" who won't give it up easily. Dawson went for her in reality, and so the script echoes this choice by not having the characters sleep together. Jen's basically telling him that if he went for her in real life instead, they probably would have slept together by now, and the script would have ended very differently indeed)
The moment of truth has arrived over at Joey's house. She's nervously busying herself with her art kit, when Jack announces that he's coming out (um, no dear ... that would be next month). Appearing in her living room wearing nothing more than a towel and a smile, he tries to break the ice and maintain a sense of professionalism by declaring "Jack McPhee reporting for duty! Where do you want me?" (oh, puh-leeze ... rolling eyes) Joey starts babbling about all the different locations Jack can settle himself in. Sensing her uncomfortableness, Jack suggests that he keep his towel on for the first little bit, and Joey can just sketch around ... it. At the mention of the word (or more appropriately, what "it" stands for), Joey gets momentarily flustered, but insists she's fine.
Without further ado ... Jack loses the towel, and Joey almost loses her mind. She gulps and blinks and stands there, stammering. Finally, she manages to tell him that the towel is probably a good idea, because it gives her a chance to concentrate on the top part of the sketch. Jack dons it again and lies propped up on the couch. An embarrassed silence settles in, which he breaks by telling Joey the whole situation is like deja-vu, like the notorious painting scene from the movie "Titanic." (Gee Jack, you think? ... although he may be on to something, both Leonardo DiCaprio and Jack look like little waif-like adolescent girls and have zero sex appeal ... hmm ...) Joey agrees, except she tells him she's Jack to his Rose. He smiles. "Role reversal ... I like that!" (yeah, I bet you do, pal. I bet you do ...)
Jack starts babbling about some other trifling thing, and Joey suggests they just don't talk. After all, the model in her class just stares out the window. She's mature enough to admit she is a little uncomfortable with the situation. And just like that, Jack sends her uncomfortableness off the Richter scale with his next words: "Just imagine how comfortable we'll be around each other after tonight," he says suggestively. With that one sentence, he's made his underlying intentions fairly obvious ... screw trying to do the "right" thing by helping Joey out, screw trying to be professional and platonic ... the guy just wants to get into her pants, period.
Immediately, Joey goes on the defensive. "You know what? I can't do this," she tells him. "I can't see you naked. I tried to be adult about it and not like little Joey Potter, but the truth is, I'm really not that experienced with ... a lot of things, and I really don't think I can handle you naked." Jack asks what she's going to do about the sketch, to which she replies she will fudge it somehow. Joey adds that Jack should just get dressed and go home. In her anxiety, nervousness and skittishness, she accidentally knocks over her easel. Being the chivalrous young man that he is, Jack immediately jumps up to help her out, forgetting what he is wearing, or more correctly, isn't wearing. The towel falls again, this time on accident, and Joey is left speechless and staring. Jack quickly picks up her sketch pad to cover his naughty bits, and comments that he may as well stay now. Joey can't stop gawking long enough to even muster up a response.
She begins sketching Jack, who settles back on the couch. After a while, he asks her how it looks. "It?" she stutters, then realizes he means the sketch and not his anatomy. "Oh, um, it's coming along fine, sorry." Jack asks her how she's doing, and to her own surprise, Joey admits that she's not doing that badly, in fact, it feels kind of ... "... natural?" Jack asks, hopefully. "Sort of," she responds. "It's more like an accomplishment (not one I'd personally be proud of, but that's just me ...), something most poeple think I can't do. I mean, you see how I live .. I don't get out much. My life is kind of plain sometimes."
Taking on the role of therapist in addition to model, Jack asks if all that bothers her. "Sometimes," she replies truthfully. Joey adds that art is risky, and allows her to take chances. (yeah, like for example, it's a risk seeing Jack au naturel, because there's a chance she may vomit from the experience ... yep, I understand totally) "I feel like I'm doing something ... special, something just for me," she tells him, then asks if that makes any sense.
"It feels dangerous," Jack agrees. Huh? I don't follow that one at all. I mean, I love art and all, but painting is hardly a life-threatening, risque adrenaline rush, is it? You can hardly compare drawing with bungee-jumping or skydiving, can you? But apparently, it's just me, because Joey seems to understand him perfectly. "Yeah," she agrees. "Why is that?" Jack replies in his typical obscure, melodramatic style. "Because art is about a world of uncertainty, and it makes it scary." (oh, what-ever ...) When Joey asks what scares him, Jack provides the epitome of classic answers: "Sex." He smiles at her in an attempt to look seductive, but instead, he comes off looking exactly like a weasel with those beady little eyes and cheesy smile.
The next couple of scenes are set to music, but there's no dialogue. Over at Jen's house, she watches from afar as Dawson walks around the dock behind their houses, obviously deep in thought about something. After a moment or two of hesitation, she decides to approach him. Meanwhile, Pacey and Andie are shown laughing and enjoying dinner at an elegant (presumably French?) restaurant.
Back to Joey's we go, where she asks Jack why sex in particular scares him. "Is it fear of it? Or first-time anxiety?" she wonders. Jack's just full of surprises, though. "Oh no, I'm not a virgin," he responds. "Oh," Joey replies. She clearly wasn't expecting that answer. (me neither, I mean, who'd be so desparate as to sleep with him??) "So, um ... have you ... done it ... a lot?" she asks, trying to be casual. And judging by his response, Jack clearly wasn't expecting that question. "Well, I, um ..." he thinks, counting numbers in his head. "I've done it a total of ... once," he admits, breaking into a grin. (a-ha! Notice he didn't mention if his partner was male or female?)
Speaking of non-virgins, Jen is subtly and not-so-subtly trying to get Dawson to break on through to the other side (sorry, I'm listening to The Doors as I write this), while Dawson tells her he never could have gotten through the auditions without her, and he's really lucky to have her as a friend. In an attempt to be modest, Jen replies that it's merely her job, as producer. Dawson won't hear of it though, insisting she went above and beyond the call of duty. Jen jokes that if worse comes to worst and Dawson gets really desparate, she could always play his leading lady. (no ... no double entendre there, is there?) "Maybe you should have," he replies solemnly.
Jen's taken aback, she wasn't expecting her blatant comments and pointed remarks to actually sink in, let alone hit home. "What?" she asks, not believing her ears. "Been my leading lady," Dawson replies calmly. "You think?" she wonders. "Sometimes," he nods, then continues. "Too much of the time." The implication of his words echoes in the silence between them.
At the Potter home, Joey and Jack continue their discussion about sex. Joey asks if his first time was scary, and Jack replies it was. "Don't feel bad," she smiles reassuringly. "I haven't even done it, and it terrifies me from afar." Jack tells her it isn't just that it was scary -- that was only part of it. It's that it was ... (with another guy, perhaps? is that what you're trying to say?) ... he can't articulate what he's trying to say, only that it's hard to describe and that he's not really that good at expressing himself. "You've found my social flaw," he smiles at her. (flaw ... as in singular? More like she's found one of his many social flaws ... as in plural. And don't ask me to list them all here, I have a deadline to meet) "Could you try?" Joey asks timidly.
Jen, meanwhile, has decided that in light of Dawson's little quasi-confession, she's gonna turn up the heat on our naive little hero to see where it gets her. "I know you have this notion that if you don't let your characters act on their desire, it's a riskier choice," she begins, "but it's not real life. It's so obvious. You think they're stronger if they resist their lust, but it's not real. True love is always fuelled by lust. (wrong wrong wrong) People who care that much about each other will have sex eventually. (o-kay, perhaps ...) Even people that don't care that much." (well, she's got me there)
She continues that this is 1998 (minor error by the continuity people), and sex is always a risky choice, she just doesn't happen to believe it's an obvious one. "I think intent and motive make it interesting. (wait a sec, is she talking about crime or passion here?) Why do two people have sex? Because they're in love. That's obvious, who cares. But if they're in lust ... well, that's slightly more interesting. They're hurting over someone. In pain. In denial. Looking for a distraction. Trying to forget someone. All of a sudden, sex is interesting and not the obvious choice at all ... think about a rewrite, Dawson. You still have time."
Yeah, but is Jen talking about the script his life is based on, or the life his script is based on? Or both? For starters, if that isn't throwing herself at him, then I don't know what is. And for seconds, what's the big idea here? The very last episode, when they were frolicking around in the buff in the creek and Dawson tried to kiss her, Jen insisted they just remain friends and not cross that line. Now, not only does she want to cross it, she wants to stomp all over it and forget it even existed in the first place.
But the most ironic thing is, her logic is totally flawed. She says sex isn't the obvious choice when someone is hurting or trying to get over someone else. The hell it isn't! If anything, it's such a stereotypical choice! Hasn't she ever heard of a rebound relationship? Unfortunately, it's an option many take to drown their sorrows and ease the pain -- to find comfort in the arms (and bed) of another. It happens so much, it's virtually commonplace. It isn't interesting, actually. It's sad. Lust is all fine and dandy, but it isn't love. It's just sex. Jen seems to be substituting the three interchangeably, and she's in for a rude awakening.
Back at Joey's, the sexual conversation continues with Joey wanting to know the details of Jack's first encounter. "Really, you want to know?" Jack asks her, puzzled. (he's probably trying to stall while he comes up with a reasonable sounding cover for his, uh, dilemma) "Not the gory details," Joey insists, "just ... I don't know. The feeling of it." She asks him to describe it as if it were art.
That, he can do, no more social flaws here. "At first, it's a jumble of emotions," Jack tells her. "It's hard to pinpoint, like an expressionistic painting. But if you get comfortable with it, it's like ... the first time you see Van Gogh's 'Starry Night.' It's the same sky as always, but everything is different, it's more passionate. Everything has feeling and movement, even colours. It's like lying on Monet's 'Water Lilies.' It's like a Georgia O'Keeffe flower, you're feeling everything so intensely. It's like the passion of Munsch's 'Scream' or the power and strength of a Degas ..." (he got all THAT out of one single time?! Damn ... who's he sleeping with?? Either that, or he dropped acid while dropping his pants)
Suddenly the phone rings and Jack's passion is deflated. Well, at least part of it is. When Joey goes to reach for the phone, she sees a little more of Jack than she bargained for. Horrified, he covers himself up, while horrified she stares, blinks and looks away.
Fortuntately, the bittersweetness and gentleness of the following scene wipe away any disgusting mental images the last one conjured up. Pacey leads a blindfolded Andie into a lavender-scented, firelit room at Capeside's finest bed and breakfast. When Andie wants to know where they are, Pacey tells her that they had dinner in a French restaurant, then a stroll along the docks ... so there's really only one place they could be right now, isn't there? Putting two and two together, Andie pretty much kills the mood by telling Pacey if she takes off the blindfold to find herself standing in a bed and breakfast ... "you're dead!"
Removing her blindfold, Pacey tells her to dispose of his remains right now. "Oh God ... I don't know whether to be touched or terrified," she tells him. Yes, and I don't know whether to be appalled or amazed ... who keeps renting hotel rooms to teenagers on this show? First Joey and Dawson in last season's finale, and now these two ... yeesh! Doesn't anyone ask for ID and a credit card anymore?!
Quelling Andie's fears, Pacey tells her that the night was not designed to "reach the verdict of doing it." In fact, he wants to save that for another time. All he wanted to do this evening was to give Andie her fantasy night, they can save doing it for another time. He adds that it's a step-by-step process for him, too. Andie's overwhelmed. She tells him she really wants to do this, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't ... but even though Pacey's very special to her, there's just so much going on in her life right now that he doesn't even know about, and she's not ready for this, not now. Crying, she confesses she can't just do it.
"Don't worry, it's no big deal," he soothes as he wraps Andie up in a big bear hug. "I told you, we can wait." Pacey notes that he thinks he brought her there as much for himself as he did for her, and begs her not to be upset with him for doing so. "You have no idea what you've done by being in my life," he says softly. "You make me feel like maybe there's hope for my pathetic existence. And I don't have to sleep with you to feel that. I can feel it now, just holding you in my arms." He finishes by telling her how lucky he is to have her. (okay, can I just say ... how adorable is that? I think I'd just about burst into tears!) Andie's touched by his words too. "You know what, Witter?" she smiles up at him. "You make me want to do it ..." They lean in for a kiss.
In Dawson's room, our future Academy Award winning screenwriter is typing away on his laptop, but encounters a bad case of writer's block. Clearly, Jen's (and Chris's, and Abby's, and Pacey's ...) words are getting to him. He stops, thinks a moment and pulls out a framed photo of Joey from a drawer, which he places on his bedside table. He continues typing for a while, then stops. With a click of his mouse, scenes on the screen vanish and Dawson just sits there, thinking.
Over at the Potters', Jack (mercifully) has gotten dressed. Once again, he's apologizing for his earlier, um, state, but Joey's cool with it. She tells him it's okay, and stuff happens, although "not usually that kind of stuff, and not usually in the Potter family living room!" (hah! Ten bucks says Alexander was conceived there!) Jack is concerned the incident is going to screw things up between them, and he's genuinely upset, because all he wanted to do was to help her out. "I don't want you to think ..." he begins, then falters. "Here we go again. Social flaw."
Joey steps in and speaks for both of them. "We both came here with the noblest of intentions, but we're both human. There's something between us ..." she trails off, as she meets Jack's gaze and steps a little closer to him (noooo!! No Joey, don't do it!) "Is your social flaw contagious?" she asks. Jack smiles that it is, and adds that he takes full responsibility for the evening's turn of events. Joey interjects that it was her fault, after all, "I asked to hear it," she tells him. Laughing a little, he tells her that's true, and agrees that it was her fault. (I almost felt sorry for him here, I mean, it wasn't like he had any control over the situation, it was just an accident ...)
Stepping closer still, (Argh! Run! Run! While you still have time, stop!) Joey confesses that tonight was a big step in the life of little Joey Potter. "I didn't feel so little anymore." But for all the big words and not wanting to hear the gory details, she admits she may have bitten off a tad too much. "Well, you were curious," Jack says gingerly. "Yeah," she nods. "I guess I'm just wrestling with my hormones, like everyone else." "Well, if ever you want to explore your curiosity, I'm available ..." he proffers.
And then, bang! Just like that, the nanogram of sympathy I felt for Jack just flew out the window. Trust him to take a solemn, honest and mature discussion (which was probably as equally embarrassing for Joey as it was for him, if not more so, because she has less experience with the subject matter) and turn it into some sleazy proposal for deflowerment.
Clearly, his words rattle Joey a bit too. "First you're a model, now you're a tour guide?" she laughs nervously. "No," he says seriously. "I'm just a guy who finds it really hard not to hold you and to touch you, and I didn't realize it until tonight ... when it was forbidden." Joey steps a little closer still (no, no, no, no, no!) and reminds Jack that he has his clothes on now. "Are you saying it isn't forbidden now?" he asks in his best husky voice. Timidly, she remarks that she's saying it isn't as scary now ... and moves closer still. (noooooooo!) "Gee, thanks," he remarks with a small smile. (ha ha, he's been deflated for the second time this evening!)
Continuing, Jack notes that "two scared people cancel each other out." Joey wants to know what he means by that, so he simply says "tonight was a night of firsts, and there's no reason that has to stop now." (eeeew, yuck, gross, ick ... nooo, Joey! Run! Run for your life!!) Instead of bolting for the door, though, Joey, flustered and a bit unsure of herself, nods solemnly, then leans in for a kiss. And another, and another, to the point where the two of them are wrapped up in each other so tightly that Jack literally lifts her off the ground. (sigh ... too late)
Cut to Jen, who is cozily asleep in her room, sharing her bed with ... a teddy bear. (oh, puh-leeze) All of a sudden, who should climb through her window but one troubled and confused Dawson Leery. "What are you doing here?" Jen asks, half-asleep. (no matter what he's doing, one of her dreams is about to come true) He strides across the room to her bed and mutters that he's been thinking a lot about what she said about motive, and intent, and lust versus love versus distraction. "And?" she asks incredulously. Before she can say another word, he silences her with a passionate kiss. After they come up for air, Jen's eyes remain closed for a moment longer, as if she wants to take it all in and remember every detail.
"Just ... don't ask my motive," Dawson murmurs. "I know better," she replies, and they go at it again. Hey, at least he was somewhat honest with her. he knows she isn't Joey, merely a substitute, and she knows that he knows this. Though admittedly, he is using her a little, Jen's about as pure as the driven slush ... she kinda asked for it with all that innuendo earlier on.
Back at the bed and breakfast, Pacey and Andie are all hot and heavy in front of the fireplace, when suddenly he stops. When Andie wants to know what's wrong, he tells her that she's not going to believe this -- frankly, he doesn't believe it himself -- but he doesn't want to continue their NHL playoff game of tonsil hockey. "I said that out loud, right?" he asks. Andie's insecurities come into centre stage again, and she questions his attraction to her again. "You don't want to do ths?" she asks, all agitated.
"No, no, no ... I do ... God, do I ..." Pacey laments, "But for once, Pacey Witter's raging hormones are not doing all the talking. For once, I'm gonna do the right thing. We're not ready for this." Andie interjects that she might be, but Pacey is quick to dismiss her claim. "At the risk of sounding like a cheesy After School Special, when you're really ready, you'll know. And then we'll do this til the cows come home. But this is too important to fall back on the 'do now, think later' mindset." Taking a page out of Dawson's script, he tells her that the risky thing to do is to not have sex, because that way, they will have some semblance of a real relationship. "So you take all the time you need," he finishes, "I'll be right here." (sigh ... just too precious for words)
"There you go again, Pacey," Andie says with a grin. "You just make me want to do it all the more!" Laughing, he tells her it's all part of her evil plan, then pulls her to her feet and tells her he'll drive her home.
So while Pacey and Andie have pulled out of the race (so to speak), there are still two very mis-matched couples running neck-and-neck to finish. At the Potter home, Joey and Jack are lying on the couch, getting to know each other in a highly intimate manner. Personally, I'm still wondering how the writers are going to reconcile this situation with Jack's alleged upcoming confession, but I think I may have an idea.
See, internally, Jack's probably struggling with the fact that he isn't a "normal" guy. He's confused, so his little escapade with Joey is an attempt to conform to that norm, to act like he "should." Then again, there obviously was some attraction there to Joey -- I mean, you can't fake kissing the way he was kissing (or can you?), so I don't know, maybe ole Jackie boy is gonna play for both teams? Just a thought ...
And over at the Ryan home, Jen and Dawson are making out pretty severely in her bed. So much so that Dawson is actually under the covers with her. (Go, speed racer!) Looks like Jen's suggestion for a rewrite paid off in spades.
Finally, we close with a shot of Pacey and Andie, who, oblivious to their friends' careening hormonal urges, walk hand-in-hand down the lane outside the bed and breakfast to his car, and drive off into the night.
Fade to black ...