A thought: If this season followed last season's pattern of naming the episodes after films, this one would have to have been titled "Sex, Lies, and Videotape" ... sums it all up just perfectly, no?
Okey-dokey, let's get down to business. Surprisingly enough, for the first time in a long time, this week's episode didn't open in Dawson's bedroom (and that was just the first of several surprises in this episode!). Instead, we were presented with a montage of clips and snippets of conversations between our three couples -- Dawson and Jen, Joey and Jack, and Pacey and Andie.
We open with Jack and Joey in her living room. Both are adjusting their matching gingham shirts, tucking their clothes, and smiling sheepishly in that awkward way that people do in the aftermath of a hot and heavy encounter, when the flush of passion has been replaced with the embarrassment of oh-my-god-what-have-we-just-done? As Jack is getting ready to leave (wham, bam, thank you ma'am), Joey thanks him for posing for her, and he smiles at her like the cat that got the canary.
Over to Jen's, where she and Dawson are dissecting their "unexpected encounter." Dawson starts to dither that he doesn't know what came over him ... but before he continues in a vein that Jen certainly doesn't want to hear, she stops him and asks that they give it 12 hours before they start analyzing the situation. He agrees.
Back to Joey and Jack, where Jack asks Joey if she has any regrets. She shakes her head no and he smiles, tells her "that's good," and closes in for another round of sloppy face-sucking, er ... passionate kissing.
Over to Jen's again, where Dawson tries to downplay the situation. "See you tomorrow?" he asks. She agrees and says goodnight, looking at him hopefully for the usual kiss that accompanies those words, but all she gets is a gentle peck on the forehead. The look of sheer disappointment on her face says it all, and she keeps her eyes closed a moment longer than she needs to after Dawson's lips leave her. She can't look at him. And it would appear he can't look at her either, as he bounds off towards his home without so much as a backwards glance in her direction. Even though she really likes Dawson, and even though he cares for her, Jen's love life history is repeating itself here: she's been used. Again.
Finally, we cut to Pacey and Andie, who are giggling and holding each other very close in front of his car, outside of her house. "Thank you," Andie starts. "Thank you," he responds. "No, thank you!" she replies. "No, thank you!" he echoes. And on and on. Finally, Andie breaks from all the politeness and goes inside, leaving a smiling and sighing Pacey behind.
Cut to Jack, who is leaving the Potter house. Unlike Dawson, he does cast a backwards glace at his lady love, who gives him a small smile back. But as soon as his back is turned, the look on Joey's face turns to a mixture of confusion, anxiety and ... regret?
We see that same confused, anxious, regretful look next on Pacey's face as he stares off into the distance outside the McPhee house. After that, we see Jen with the same look, only this time, the regretfulness is replaced by wistfulness. She wears a half-smile as she mulls over the evening's events. Oddly enough, though we see Joey, Pacey and Jen reactions to their own amorous adventures, we don't see Dawson's ...
The following day in English class, we do see Dawson, although this time he's finishing up a presentation on the mystery genre in literature. The assembled masses are not really concentrating on his words, as the camera pans to Joey looking agitated, Pacey and Andie exchanging looks and Jen giving our man D the old puppy dog eyes.
Dawson drones on about how mysteries on celluloid don't differ from mysteries in print, because both are constructed in three parts, concluding with the classic denoument, where all the characters are gathered in a room and the detective delivers his / her final monologue to uncover the killer's identity. He adds that the key to solving any crime is understanding human behaviour, for it is there that motives are discovered and truths revealed. (Interesting words, as we uncover quite a bit about motive and truths and behaviour a little later on) In typical Dawson style, he concludes by telling his classmates "you never know when a mystery will find you," just as the lights go out and a chilling scream cuts the air.
He's arranged this last little bit as well, of course, which Mr. Peterson, his English teacher (Remember him? The miserable miscreant from the study session a several episodes ago?), finds very droll indeed. "Your flair for the dramatic is always, in some small degree, appreciated," he comments snidely, then turns his acid tongue on a more well-matched opponent -- Abby, asking her what incredible insight she is going to bring to the mystery genre.
Drawing from her years of spinning over-exaggerated yarns (gang bangs on the locker room floor, anyone?), Abby constructs a ludicrous story to cover why her English assignment isn't completed, a tragic tale involving a box of her father's chocolate-flavoured laxatives and Giggles, the ill-fated Morgan family Schnauzer. "I didn't know chocolate laxatives were toxic to dogs," she whimpers, eyes brimming with tears. It would appear poor Giggles bled to death internally. (By the way, is it just me or are the writers trying to develop Abby's character a la the late Sydney on Melrose Place? Superficially bitchy but always getting burned in her own schemes, and that wardrobe ... actually, never mind the wardrobe, that hair ... it's the show's comic relief!)
But before you send over those condolence cards, don't forget that at the beginning of the season, Abby mentioned to Jen that her father no longer was in the picture. Mr. Peterson doesn't buy it either. "It's a shame you can't find a more productive outlet for your creative lying," he barks, telling her that if she doesn't turn in a project, she can expect an F -- not only on the assignment, but in the course in general. Class is dismissed just then, and our teen heros slink out the door, but not before Chris (Abby's partner in crime from the election episode a few weeks back) spys a folded up note on the floor. In typical high school fashion, he picks it up and reads it.
It's lunchtime, and Joey and Jack are quietly picking at their food in the caf. Jack asks if the two of them are ever going to speak again, to which Joey replies she hopes so. "Why is it so awkward?" Jack laments. In a brief, shining glimpse of the old Joey we all know and love, she replies, "I can answer that for $200, Bob!" with a mischievious grin.
Still in the caf, Andie approaches Pacey and covers his eyes. After she begins to shower him with kisses, he pulls away and tells her they probably shouldn't do that right there. "I'm sorry," Andie beams. "It's just that I have a major lust issue where you're concerned." She thanks him for last night, noting that he was a perfect gentleman and she thoroughly enjoyed herself (well Jeez, what girl in her situation wouldn't?!). "Glad to be of service," Pacey replies with a terse smile. "I had a nice time too."
The third couple from the previous evening appear for lunch. Dawson and Jen carry on a stilted conversation, which goes something like this: "Hi." "Hi." "How are you?" "Fine. You?" "Fine." "Great." "Great." After a few minutes of tedious repetition, Dawson tells Jen he retooled the script and he thinks the changes will address Jen's previous concerns. "Let me guess," Jen says dryly. "The characters do it." She's assuming he's made the Dawson character sleep with the Joey character, but to her surprise (and ours) he contradicts her, telling him the Dawson character does it (it? Why do the people on this show have such a hard time saying "sex" instead of "it"?!) with his "beautiful neighbour from the big city he has a crush on."
Jen is a little taken aback to hear this, and wonders when he made the last series of changes -- prior to their last conversation, or prior to their last physical encounter (she says that as if there were several physical encounters to choose from instead of just one)? "Let's just say ... you inspired me," he tells her with a small smile, and we, like Jen, are left to ponder the hidden meaning of his words.
Enter a new couple into the lunchtime foray: Abby and Chris. While Abby dreams of killing Mr. Peterson to avoid summer school, Chris has more important matters on his mind. "Did you have sex last night?" he asks her bluntly. "Are you talking to me?" Abby snaps back in her best Robert DeNiro. "Because that's a non-sequitir I am choosing to ignore."
"Well, someone's doing it," Chris counters. "And I'm trying to figure out who it is." He's piqued Abby's curiosity now. Showing her the note, he reads: "I want to talk to you about last night, but it always comes out wrong, so I'm writing it down instead. The whole night was amazing, but sex changes everything, and I think we should take some time before anything happens again."
Abby's fluent in both gossip and sexual innuendo, and Chris is fluently speaking both her languages. She gleefully examines the note, deeming the handwriting unrecognizable. "Did you see who dropped it?" she quizzes. Chris admits he didn't, and gives her a look like a demented neanderthal (after Jack, Chris gets my vote for worst haircut).
Jack, meanwhile asks if Joey's finished her drawing. When she replies she has, he asks to see it, so she pulls out a large pad and flips through to the completed sketch. "Whoa!!" he says, alarmed. "Even my shameless nature has a threshold! It's one thing to pose in your living room, but here in the cafeteria? No. Uh-uh ..." (oh, keep your shirt (and trousers) on, dear, it isn't like flocks of people would suddenly come running if they heard there was a nude drawing of you making the rounds ... they've all just finished eating, after all)
Joey tells him the sketch is only for her professor's eyes, which relieves him somewhat, but then he has an odd request: "Could I have it as a keepsake?" he asks her quietly. (what's he gonna do, frame it above his bed?) "Why, so you can remember your 15 minutes of fame as a male model?" she teases. "No," Jack answers earnestly. "So I can remember everything about last night." (hmmm ... I wonder if that includes a certain little incident on the couch when he was describing sex via art and Joey saw how much, uh, passion he had for the subject?) Yet unbelievably, Joey falls for his schmaltzy line, and gives him a flushed but pleased smile.
Over at the Witter-McPhee table, Andie notes Pacey has received his history quiz back and asks what grade he got. "Never you mind!" he snaps at her, a little too harshly. But like a hyperactive puppy, she won't give up. Andie pokes and prods until Pacey barks that his grade is none of her business. Crestfallen, she wants to know if this is about the night before, and if he is upset about what transpired. Even though he insists he's fine with it, Andie isn't quite sure. "I know things escalated in our relationship, and a lot was said and done that --" "Can we table it right now? I have to study. You want me to study, right?" Pacey interrupts. (okay, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that something's up here ... Pacey Witter, studying?)
Andie's a bit thrown by his excuse too, and agrees that while yes, she does want him to study, she doesn't want him to turn into a stereotypical guy who is closed off and shuts down the minute a relationship starts to progress. "I'm not," Pacey insists. "I'm just really behind. I have to study ... you understand." He's trying to use an excuse she can relate to, and she does, although you can see in her eyes she's still a little hurt.
At the same time, Jen and Dawson are having that 12-hour-later post-mortem on the previous night's make-out session. Even though they're both "completely fine" with it, both are pussyfooting around each other, posturing and waiting for the other person to drop his or her guard so the real truth can come out. It doesn't happen. "Last night was last night," Dawson announces crisply. "Today, we have a movie to make!" (Gee, I'm sure Jen really appreciated that statement, shows where she is in the pecking order of Dawson Leery's so-called life) They agree they are still "friends and ... whatever other word applies to what we are." Neither one can figure it out, but it's a subject that isn't going to go away unless they discuss it. So much for the post-mortem.
Abby is still enthralled with the secret note Chris has presented her with. In fact, she's so enthralled, she's decided to make it her English project. Instead of deconstructing a literary convention (her words, not mine), she wants to solve her own real-life mystery and find out who wrote the note. (Oh yeah, Mr. Peterson is gonna love this one ...) "It's creative, it's original ... it's so totally Abby Morgan!" she proclaims happily. Chris doesn't quite get it (surprise, surprise) and asks what the big mystery is. "Who wrote the letter!" Abby announces triumphantly. "Who had sex."
Chris doesn't think it's such an open-and-shut case, though. By his calculations, there are about 20 people in their English class so it could be anyone. "Wrong!" Abby chimes. "Common sense eliminates 90 per cent of them. No, there are 3 likely couples," she muses. "The most obvious is Pacey and Andie ... Pacey's sexually experienced, as we all know, and Andie's fallen head over heels in love with him. Insanity runs in her family."
"Then there's Joey and Jack," Abby continues. "They share this whole artistic vibe ... progressive, uninhibited, experimental ..." "Yeah," Chris interjects. "Joey's got her hot little angle." (Um ... hello? What the hell does that mean?! Anyone?)
"Then there's Dawson and Jen," Abby concludes. "He's on the rebound, and God knows she likes to bounce." Never one to miss a potential opportunity for a conquest, Chris reaches deep down into his bag of tricks and pulls out this gem: "What about you? Do you like to bounce?" Abby's not so easily impressed by his come-ones, though, the girl gives as good as she gets: "Ugh, your lines land like bricks!" she chides him.
Regardless, she still wouldn't mind Chris's help with her little scheme, er, project. She wants him to videotape her findings. He's not impressed, though, and and scoffs that if she wants him to document everything out of the goodness of his own heart ... forget it. "Please?" Abby purrs. "I'll let you touch me in bad places ..." (my favourite line of the show!!) Not surprisingly, now Chris is ready to help out, probably out of the goodness of certain other organs.
After school, it's raining, and who should be caught on the steps outside the entrance together than Joey and Dawson. Dawson notes Joey's sketchpad and asks how her "naked man" turned out. "Naked," she replies with a smile. He asks if he can see the finished result, but Joey quickly changes the subject and asks how his movie is coming along. Maybe because he's naturally clueless, or maybe because he's egocentric enough that he'd rather talk about himself, Dawson doesn't question Joey's lack of an answer.
Instead, he tells her his movie is going well, but he's having casting issues. "I can't seem to find a leading lady," Dawson laments. When Joey asks why not, he responds that he can't find the right mix of "spirited passion, wide-eyed innocence and unparalleled external beauty." Joey notes that it sounds like Dawson is looking for a Julia Roberts. But it isn't another budding superstar that director Leery is searching for. "I need a you," he tells Joey simply.
There is an uncomfortable silence while Joey digests his words. "Is this movie about us?" she asks bluntly. "Um ... it's a drama in the vein of us," Dawson replies awkwardly. Joey wants to read it, to make sure there's no character assassination of her going on. "Joey," Dawson begins, genuinely upset. "I would never write anything hurtful about you, you know that." She nods, silently, as the rain stops. Dawson tells her he's going to make a break for it while there's a break in the storm, and thanks her for waiting out the rain with him -- a comment which can be interpreted in the literal sense, or in the metaphysical sense of riding out life's problems together and "waiting" for each other to weather their own personal storms.
In the school corridors, Abby asks Chris if he's read Dawson's rewrite of the script. "We have sex," he notes, duly impressed, and asks when she wants to practice (the boy's persistant, I'll give him that much!). After knocking the wind out of his sails yet again, Abby tells him the point is that the rewrite is the closest thing she has to a clue in their little "who screwed it" (as opposed to "whodunnit" no doubt). Chris isn't too bright, apparently all his brains have gravitated southward, so Abby spells it out for him. She needs help with the questioning of the three couples to determine who did the deed.
"What, you're going to just ask these guys if they had sex?" he wonders dumbly. "No," Abby answers in exasperation. "I'm just going to shake the tree and see what falls out ... watch." Enter Jen, who innocently approaches the pair and wants to discuss the rehearsal schedule for the film.
"So Jen," Abby purrs. "I just had the pleasure of reading the rewrites, and noted significant alterations ... namely the inclusion of the kinkiest sex scenes since Mickey Rourke cracked open the fridge in 9 1/2 Weeks!" (my my my, she sure is prone to exaggeration, isn't she? I mean, come on this is Dawson wielding the pen that wrote this allegedly "kinky" scene ... how bad can it really be?)
"Before you go there --" Jen begins, but is cut-off before she can finish. "No, I'm already there, Jen!" Abby smiles. "Since Dawson's movie is mainly autobiographical in nature, I was wondering if my new scenes were acted out before they were written ..." Jen is suitably rankled. "It really doesn't take too much to shift your hyper creative mind into overdrive, does it Abby?"
Abby responds that she isn't just making assumptions, and that people do hear things ... like the other night, for example? "What about it?" Jen snaps. "You tell me," Abby says coyly. "Does Dawson Leery have any other talents besides film-making?" Jen is completely incensed now. "What happens in my bedroom is my business!" she explodes. "Ooooh, the bedroom! Is that where the critical events unfolded?" Abby wants to know.
"I didn't say that!" Jen counters, a tad too defensively. "No, but you didn't refute it either. It's written all over your post-coital glowing face," Abby smirks triumphantly. "So, you finally woowed the wonderboy into the dark side ... was it worth it? All the pining, and feeling that you weren't good enough?" Jen's reached the breaking point now. "Yeah, it was!" she answers hotly and stomps off down the hall.
Chris, meanwhile is amazed at Abby's sleuthing prowess and catty underhandedness. "My God, you did it! You got her to break!" he marvels. Abby revels in the adulation for a moment, but notes that a sex confession from Jen Lindley is "like Bill Gates admitting he made $2 last year." No, Abby's work is far from over, and she has her heart set on figuring out who the handwriting on the letter belongs to.
On this mission, she accosts Pacey and connives him into signing a petition for a school condom dispenser. "Teenagers these days grow up so fast, sex is everywhere," she reasons with him, then moves in for the kill. "Like with you and Andie?" Predictably, Pacey's disgusted with her. "What would it take to make you a distant memory?" he snaps. "All I'm looking for is a signature, a little John Hancock and I'll be gone," she promises. He succumbs. He has no choice -- she won't leave him alone until he does.
Her next victim is Jack, who tells her the only petition he'd support of hers is for her execution. (oooooh, Jack gets tough and bitchy! How manly of him!) Abby's comeback is classic her: "You know, some might take that causstic edge as a by-product of serious sexual repression (she doesn't know the half of it) ... speaking of which, did you haver sex with Joey?" Jack's only response to this accusation is a mumbled, "What? You gotta be kidding me ..."
Abby's not the only one honing her detective skills, though. Chris sidles up to Dawson in the hall, feeding his ego with a line about how since so much of Dawson's life is invested in the main role of the film, Chris thought he'd just pick Dawson's brain a bit, allegedly for inspiration's sake. Needless to say, Dawson is flattered and eager to provide as much insight as he can.
Never one to shy away from the subject, Chris dives in head first with a question about sex. "Clearly, (the sex in the script) is from life experience ... I want to know what it was like the first time, seeing as its been so long since my own first venture into the jungles of love (yes, and he's been swinging from vine to vine ever since), I thought I'd ask a newcomer." Clearly, this isn't the sort of brain-picking Dawson had bargained for. "You think I had sex with Jen?" he asks incredulously.
Back to Jack, who is, in typical fashion, squirming, getting flustered and having much too hard a time answering Abby's fairly simple question: "So, you didn't have sex with Joey?" "Yes," he replies. "You did?" Abby badgers. "No, no ... yes ... no ... yes, I did not have sex with Joey. Look, go away. You're demented." (let me borrow a line from Friends here: "Hello, pot? It's the kettle calling. You're black!") Why he can't seem to make up his mind if he did something as important as that is beyond me.
Cut to Chris, who is telling Dawson that he's basing his assumption on what he's heard around the school. "Who's the source?" Dawson demands. "Well," Chris replies, "If you and Jen were the only two in her room ... who do you think it was?" Dawson's only response is that self-righetous, indignant look he does so well.
Abby moves on to unsuspecting victim number three, Andie. Still wielding her condom petition, she takes a feminist angle with Andie, telling her to sign it "for all womanhood." After all, Abby reasons, most girls don't have the knowledge that you do when it comes to protecting themselves. When Andie questions what she means by "knowledge," Abby attacks with her usual venom. (Personally, after the whole election fiasco, I'm amazed Andie gives Abby the time of day, let alone lets Abby goad her into a conversation as intimate as this)
Abby insists it's the property of gossip transference -- Pacey bragged to Dawson, Dawson told Jen, Jen told her and it's her responsibility to tell the world. "Look, play the whole demure ingenue from Rhode Island with another audience, because I know everything ... like about the other night." Andie is horrified to learn the current piece of gossip revolves around her and Pacey. "I realy don't want to be the one to impart to you that your boyfriend is saying you're lacking. It's not your fault that all his experience is with a 40-year-old teacher -- what does he expect from you?"
Chris has moved on to harrassing Joey, whom he presents with a copy of Dawson's latest script. "It's a good read," he insists. "I don't want to give away the ending, but Dawson recently did some heavy duty revisions ... put a little nookie in." Joey's face pales, but she won't cave, telling Chris she will wait until Dawson asks her to read it. But Chris is as stubborn as Joey is determined, and he slips it into her bag regardless, telling her it's her call whether to read it or not.
Suspects grilled, Abby and Chris regroup to discuss their findings. "Who do I have to sleep with in order to solve this mystery?" Abby moans. Chris pipes up that he can think of at least one option, but before Abby can pierce him with a disparaging remark, she notices Joey's sketch pad which Joey accidentally left behind in her efforts to escape Chris. "Well, well, what's this?" Abby wonders. Opening it, she finds a little more -- or a little less, depending on how you look at it -- than she bargained for. "And the plot thickens ..." she grins evilly at Chris.
A quick shot of storm clouds and rain (classic mystery movie weather) fades to Dawson, alone in his room. Abby shows up at his door and after his initial shock and disgust subsides, he greets her with a curt hello. "You should work on making your greetings a bit more personable, Dawson," she chides. "Look, I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm not in the mood," he barks back. "That's not what I hear ..." Abby sing-songs. Dawson remarks that he knows what she is implying, but despite any and all rumours to the contrary, he and Jen did not have sex. "That's too bad," Abby commiserates. "Actually, we're both fine with it," he snaps.
Abby tells him she was talking about Joey. "She must be feeling like crap right now. I mean, here she went and slept with Jack, and the only thing protecting from the guilt that one amasses post such a critical event was the slight chance that you and Jen bumped uglies." Dawson is floored, and tells her the conversation is over. "Right, right," Abby agrees. "I should just give you this and go."
"This" being Joey's sketch pad, which Dawson opens to find a pencil drawing of a rather flabby (in my opinion) and nude Jack. "This means nothing!" he insists. "Except the obvious," Abby snorts. "Tell me, has Joey every drawn you naked?" "OUT!!" Dawson roars. But of course, Abby won't quit -- she's just warming up, using Dawson's heart as a dart board for her poisonous remarks. "Jack McPhee, drawn naked ... Dawson Leery, drawn out of the picture. After all these years, you weren't her first, and you certainly won't be her last, so I guess that makes you her ... nothing." Ouch ... bulls-eye.
After a rousing PA system announcement reminding students there is more to life than "Must See TV" (cute, yet another writers' in-joke!) and that they should all attend the bookfair in the gymnasium, Capeside's own Queen of Mean strolls down the corridor. Chris approaches her, slobbering like an affection-starved puppy (except puppies are way cuter), but Abby brushes him off, telling him she doesn't want to catch any of his diseases. (methinks ole Abigail is really a prude at heart) "So, whodunnit?" Chris asks. Abby tells him the denoument of her little mystery is rapidly approaching, but Chris reminds her that a denoument is for revealing answers -- which Abby doesn't have any of.
"You underestimate me," Abby says condescendingly. "The secret to solving a mystery is gaging human behaviour. I have to make them think I know all the answers." She gives Chris a number of envelopes and tells him to make sure they get into the right hands. "You're Nancy Drew from hell!" he says, almost impressed. (who does that make him? One of the Hardy Boys, perhaps?) "And don't you forget it!" Abby smirks, teasing him with an almost-kiss.
At the bookfair, Pacey approaches Andie, wanting to talk, but she brushes him off. "I really need to talk to you," he urges, but she will have none of it. "Really?" she begins sharply. "Apparently, you've been doing enough talking for both of us." Pacey is confused, so she elaborates. "Ironic how I get the cold, shut-down, non-verbal Pacey, but the rest of Capeside gets the return of Pacey Witter, underachieving Lothario."
Pacey thinks he understands her behaviour, he thinks it's caused in turn by his own behaviour and weirdness earlier on. In fact, he tells her that's what he came to talk to her about, but that she's kinda lost him with everything else. "What are you saying to people about us?" Andie demands. When he insists he isn't saying a word, Andie tells him that Abby told her otherwise. Pacey gets a bit annoyed, and asks why on earth Andie would listen to Abby Morgan, of all people.
"She knows." Andie replies. (With those two words, the wheels started to turn in my mind for the first time. If all Andie and Pacey did was a little bit o'kissin' and cuddlin', then what's to "know"? What's she hiding?) Pacey tended to agree with me, and asked his lady love exactly that -- "What's to know?" (which made me think if he doesn't think it's that big of a deal, then maybe I should put the brakes on those wheels in my mind ... temporarily) He reminds Andie that the other night, the two of them shared a wonderful, romantic evening.
Andie's still stinging from Abby's words, though. "If you weren't happy with me, or what happened the other night, you should have made it clear, instead of spreading sexual propaganda around the school. The other night ... it was personal. And the fact that there is some warped, revisionist version of it wafting all over the hallways makes me think someone's been talking, and it makes me not want to talk to you." But instead of calming her down and explaining it all away, Pacey tells her if that's what she really thinks, then they really don't have anything to talk about and leaves.
Still at the bookfair, Joey and Jen meet up by accident. Jen spots Joey's choice of reading material sticking out of her bag -- Dawson's script -- and asks if Joey's read it yet. Joey admits coldly that she's flipped through it, and Jen wants to know what she thought. "It's a one-sided view of a story that would be better left untold," Joey says icily. "I take it you don't like the way you were depicted?" Jen asks. "That, and I'm wondering what other elements of the story are autobiographical," Joey answers in a frosty tone. "Maybe you should talk to the writer about that," Jen answers back in even tones.
Jack meanwhile, apparently has no need for the bookfair and is perplexed to find a note (delivered by Chris) affixed to his locker. Dawson approaches him and asks in a very pissed voice if Jack's seen Joey. When Jack tells him she's at the bookfair, Dawson shoves her sketch-pad at him, noting that since Jack and Joey are so close these days, he'll probably see her before Dawson does.
"Does your animosity have a point, or is this just another opportunity to harass me over a decaying issue?" Jack asks sharply. (At this point, I thought that was a little rude for Jack, but then I had second thoughts and tried to put myself in his shoes, and I figured I'd be a bit vexed as well if I were him) Ignoring the question, Dawson orders Jack to give her the sketch-pad. "Tell her I was overwhelmed by her talent," he says, and you can just hear the cold fury in his voice. "So was I," Jack replies. (And at this point, I thought, nah, screw any brief, fleeting feelings of understanding or compassion I had for him, the guy's a ... well, I can't use the word I want in a G-rated Episode Summary. Starts with "P," finishes with "rick" ... get the idea?)
And so, the denoument of our little melodramatic mystery begins. On a dark, stormy night, in a dark, (soon to be) stormy classroom, the characters in our story gather one by one. First Jen and Jack come in, each wondering what the other is doing there. Jack reads from the mysterious note that was taped to his locker, "Your presence is requested in Mr. Peterson's room at 7 pm. I have something very valuable that may belong to you."
Enter Andie, who asks what her brother is doing there, followed (separately) by Pacey who wants to know if the whole thing is some lame practical joke. Joey enters and echoes his sentiments. As they all ponder their mysterious summonses, Pacey says he has a horrible feeling he knows exactly who's behind all of this. "Who? Tell me!" Dawson asks as he joins the group. Now that all six of the key players are assembled, the fun (or misery, depending on your perspective) is about to begin.
"Oh look, all of my favourite people gathered in one room and I forgot my camera!" Abby the sleuth begins. Chris walks in at that instant, videocam in hand, ready to capture the whole sordid event in vivid technicolour. "Oh, no I didn't," she smiles wickedly. Immediately, the gang is on the defensive. "I should have known," Dawson groans, while Jen asks what kind of devious scheme Abby has hatched up this time.
"All good things come to they who wait," Abby addresses Jen. "But you've never been very good at postponing pleasure, have you Jen?" Before Jen can think of a catty comeback, Pacey asks why Abby's brought them there, "to take part in one of your satanic rituals, perhaps?" Her answer surprises them all: it's her English class mystery project. "In my hand, I have a lost letter written by someone in this room to another one in this room. Stop me if you've heard this one before ..." She reads the missive aloud as everyone's faces run the gamut from uncomfortableness to fear, to outright disgust.
Finally, Joey breaks the silence. "This is absurd, I have to go --" (it's interesting, because viewers are wondering here if her outburst is cause she wrote the letter, or because she thinks Dawson wrote the letter to Jen) Abby tells her to cool her jets, and takes her place at the podium. Amid a flash of lightning and with a maniacal grin, she begins her address to the assembled party of six. "Sex. The world's greatest mystery. Philosophers, poets, scientists over time have tried to rationalize it, explain it, glorify it, criminalize it --"
"Spare us the monologue!" Dawson interrupts. His sentiments are echoed by Joey and Jen who want Abby to just get to the point and tell them who wrote the letter. "Who wrote the letter?" Abby says in disgust, flipping on the lights and breaking the mood of mystery she was trying to create. "That's all you care about, isn't it?" (don't ask me why, I found that part kinda funny)
"When the letter was first brought to my attention," Abby starts, "My gut said Dawson and Jen. She's been trying to seduce him for weeks, and with their late night working sessions and him reliving his puny attempt at romance with Joey, I thought maybe in the heat of the moment he needed a Joey replacement. Then I thought, Dawson? No way, he's saving himself for Joey or old age ... whichever comes first. And Jen? Well, she has way too many intimacy issues to actually bump someone she cares about."
Before Dawson or Jen can respond, Abby's moved on to reveal what's behind Door #2: "My next guess was Joey and Jack. After all, Joey is a liberated woman, and underneath Jack's little boy lost fa*ade, I have a feeling there's an inner sex pig just waiting to jump out." (yeah, oink oink ... little does she know that pig prefers to sniff around other pigs and not, er, sows ...) She the grabs Jack's face, pulls him close to her and purrs that he should let her know when he wants to graduate to a real woman. "You're sick and so wrong," he tells her, but Abby's theory has got Dawson thinking. "Is she?" he demands. "We've all seen the picture." (referring of course, to Jack's Playgirl Centrefold sketch)
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Joey shouts. "That was for art class!" Dawson isn't satisfied, though. "What happened after the modelling session?" he grills her. "What do you care?" she answers hotly. "Maybe I don't," he answers, equally hotly. "That's right," Joey continues, "You're too busy rewriting your script to imitate life! I know all about you and Jen." "What do you care?"
At this point, Abby remarks how said it is that Dawson and Joey's romantic destiny has been fulfilled with the wrong people. "Abby, you have it all wrong," Dawson explains. "Oh, so you didn't have sex with Jen?" Joey demands. She gets deafening silence from Dawson and a confused look from Jen as her answer. "Did you? Did you?" Joey shrieks. (she doesn't wear green very well, does she?) Still more silence and confusion from the alleged perpetrators. "Well? Answer the question, Dawson! Tell the truth!" she shouts.
"The truth is that you slept with Jack!" Dawson shouts back. "Maybe I did," Joey counters. "Well, maybe I slept with Jen," Dawson counters to her counter. It's a high-stakes emotional poker game, and hearts are wild. "You did, didn't you?" Joey asks for about the twentieth time, bordering on hysteria. "Did you?" Dawson responds. All this stonewalling is starting to fray their nerves as they repeat each other in parrot-fashion. "Did you?" "Did you?" "Maybe!" "Tell the truth!" "I asked you a question!" "I asked you a question first!" Finally, both of them lay down their cards and respond at the exact same moment: "YES!!"
Abby marvels that Joey and Dawson's shouting match was highly entertaining. "This is good!" she enthuses. She wanted a mystery and she got a soap opera, how's that for cross-genre pollination? But Jen steps in and bursts her bubble (and Joey's, and Dawson's too if you think about it). "That's not the truth," she states quietly. "We did not sleep together. I couldn't go through with it, and neither could he. It wasn't right, and this pathetic little display here makes it all the more obvious why." (now who's wearing the green?)
But Jen's right of course, and we could almost feel sympathy for her, except that she went into it with her eyes wide open. She knew she was merely Joey's understudy the whole time. But at least she's taking the high road here and not taking her jealous, frustration and anger out on innocent parties. No, she's saving her real venom for its intended target -- Abby. (more on that later)
Jack pipes up too. I have a feeling he'd be happy to let people think he and Joey really did do the bump and grind, but his faint glimmer of nobility won't allow it. "We didn't either," he tells the room. "We couldn't go through with it. So your little assumption is wrong, the little movie life you're living, Dawson, is not in danger."
But instead of everyone kissing and making-up (or out, take your pick), Abby just won't let it go. "So ... there's only one couple left," she muses, turning to Pacey and Andie and rereading the note. "I didn't write that!" Andie insists vehemently. And then Abby's next words floor not only everyone in the room, but TV audiences around the world. "Of course you didn't write that. I checked the handwriting. It belongs to Pacey."
Andie's as confused as the rest of us. "You wrote that? You?" Pacey nods. "Why?" she asks, dazed. He remains mute. "That's why you've been so weird? Why you've been so cold? What are you trying to say?" Still nothing from Pacey, so Andie pulls out the big guns. "So you sleep with me and you don't want me? You disgust me."
And with that, she rushes out of the room as the rest of us pick ourselves up off the floor. Yes, we've all been had. We were led to believe that the whole sex issue was Much Ado About Nothing, but as it turns out, we were wrong. Way wrong. (Hmph. last time I ever believe spoilers on the Net!!) Pacey turns to follow her, but is met by an angry-looking Jack. "That's not how it is," Pacey tells him, then pushes past him to run after Andie.
One more reason why I don't like Jack: Is it just me, or did anyone else fully expect Jack to haul off and slug Pacey for deflowering his baby sister? I mean, being an only child, I can only speculate on such matters, but I would like to think that if I had a brother, and if he just found out I'd done the deed with my boyfriend, and if said boyfriend was present when this little revelation unfurled itself, that said boyfriend would shortly find himself missing several teeth. Jack didn't say a word or do a thing!!! What kind of brother is that?!
Abby doesn't seem to care about Jack's lack of familial obligation and sense of duty. "Did you get that?" she asks Chris (who, don't forget is committing the whole event to video) excitedly. He gives her a thumbs-up. But her raw footage is going to require extensive editing after the little diatribe Jen delivers next. "I don't know where you come from, or who has the misfortune of being responsible for your existance," Jen begins in a fit of quiet rage, "but you are a lying, manipulative and cruel person, and the fact that you're only 16 years old makes me feel sorrier for you than any of the people in this room whose lives you are so intent on destroying." Tossing off an additional "you're pathetic," Jen walks out, leaving a breathless, and for a second, almost ashamed, Abby in her wake.
Bravo, Jen! And bravo Michelle Williams, too, for a fine bit of acting. Though I'm in the minority, I actually enjoy Jen's character. She seems very "real" and multi-dimensional, always struggling to do the right thing, sometimes losing and sometimes winning, in spite of herself. Last season we had Jen the Born Again Virgin, followed this year by her arch-nemesis, Party Jen, and now we seem to be getting an hybrid of the two. Which might make her seem like a Barbie doll with different outfits and personae, but I think for the stage she's at in her life, it's totally realistic. I mean, if I went through seven different hair colours in one scholastic year, then why can't Jen go through all those personality changes? It doesn't make her schitzophrenic, as many have suggested, I think it makes her human. Find me one 16-year-old who knows exactly who they are, and I'll show you a future candidate for a mental breakdown. But anyway ... I'll climb down off my soapbox now. On with the show!
The next day in English class, Joey finishes up her report on the premiere woman mystery writer of the past, present and future, Agatha Christie. Mr. Peterson is impressed, but then it's Abby's turn. She produces an ominous-looking red binder and videotape, as Joey, Jack, Jen, Pacey, Dawson and Andie shift uncomfortably in their seats.
"Is it possible, Ms. Morgan, that you are going to surprise me by doing something good for yourself with your assignment and actually apply a little integrity to your education?" Mr. Peterson asks snidely. After a moment's hesitation, Abby reads between the lines of his statement and actually does the Right Thing for once in her life. Putting away her incriminating evidence, she cooly responds that she wouldn't want to disappoint him. "I didn't do it," she smiles saccharine-sweetly. Guess Abby's not a lost cause after all. But just in case we thought she was turning over a new leaf, she throws in this little zinger: "And integrity, just for the record, is a tired notion last seen in the late '70s."
Mr. Peterson comments that if that's the case, Abby's lack of integrity will make it easier to accept the F he's going to give her, just for the record. Moving on, Mr. Peterson asks Andie for her report. On her way up to the front of the class, Andie whispers a grateful thank you in Abby's ear. "Whatever," Abby replies, trying hard to act nonchalant but secretly thrilled. Though I think we all have a smidgen of Abby in us, I'm not particularly impressed with her redemption though, I mean, after all the crap Abby's pulled on Andie over the past little while, it's the least she can do. (Hey ... off subject here, but wouldn't it just be classic if it were revealed in a future episode that ABBY was a virgin? Just a thought)
After school, Jack's sitting alone in a darkened classroom. Jen passes by and says a la "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (well, that's what it reminded me of, at any rate) "You're still here? What are you doing here? School's over! Go home!" Jack replies that he's thinking about how it just isn't that much fun to play second string in Joey's life. (heh heh heh, serves him right) "I know what you mean," Jen commiserates. "But don't worry, you get used to it. I have." She smiles at him wistfully, and he invites her to sit down.
"What are you going to do about Dawson?" Jack wants to know. Jen replies that there's nothing she can do. "As much as I love the guy, he's not there yet." (yet? I doubt he ever will be, but I don't want to disillusion the poor child) She adds that while she can take all the jerks in the world climbing in and out of her bedroom window, when Dawson Leery does it, he better be doing it for her. Fair comment.
Instead of being impressed with Jen's logic, Jack's impressed with the fact she was able to open up to him in the first place. "That is so cool how you can unleash all that on someone you barely know. I wish I could be more open like that," he notes. Jen tells him to give it a shot, and asks him bluntly why he and Joey didn't have sex. "I can't say," he stammers. "Come on," she coaxes. "Think of it as growth." He laughs and again says no, but she reminds him that she spilled her guts, so he's gotta tell her now.
After eliciting a promise from her that she won't tell anyone else, he confesses. "Okay, this is really embarrassing ..." he begins, then whispers the rest in her ear. "You couldn't get it up?" Jen asks incredulously. After he shushes her, she wants details. Jack replies that while he can't speak for Joey, he really wanted to, really badly (O-kay!! Enough already, we get the picture (very vivdly, unfortunately ... ugh)), but "it" just wouldn't co-operate. He couldn't even take his clothes off, he was so scared. (poor guy -- to use a baseball analogy, "it" seemed to have no problem hitting a home run earlier on in the night, during batting practice, but now that the bases are loaded in the bottom of the ninth, "it" struck out)
"Maybe you have a problem," Jen wonders. (well, he kinda does, but it isn't what she thinks, I'm willing to bet) She reassures him that it's okay and that she's been there. "Those ... things never co-operate," she smiles, and they both burst into laughter.
Well. I could just say a multitude of things here, but I'll keep my comments simple: poor, poor Jack. (bet you all thought I was gonna say something evil, huh? Hah! I'm not that much of a heartless wench) Given that he's rapidly approaching the biological peak for male sexual performance (18 ... but I have it from a fairly reliable source that it could be 17), there really shouldn't be any physical reason for this, um, situation to occur. So, ruling out the physical, we turn to other reasons -- psychological, mental, emotional, whatever -- and suddenly I'm beginning to believe all those Net rumours again ...
Speaking of Net rumours, the next scene blows that last one right (that NONE of the six had sex) outta the water. Pacey follows Andie, in the rain, to her car and climbs in after her. "Get out," she tells him coldly. When he replies that they aren't done, she tells him they very much are. He beigns to apologize for his behaviour lately, and for being cold and distant, there's just been a lot of stuff happening and he doesn't really know where to start. "You can start by getting out of my car," Andie orders icily.
Nothing doing. "Why don't we try starting with the truth?" Pacey sighs. He tells her his grade on his history quiz -- an A. It's the first A he's ever gotten, you see, and it kind of threw him for a loop. "Why?" Andie asks, and momentarily, their precarious sexual situation is thrown by the wayside. "You worked so hard on it ..."
Pacey replies that that one A changed everything. "Don't you see?" he explains, telling her that everything's always been so predictable for him, but now his whole life course is changing. "Ever since you and I had sex, I felt anxious, and I'm wondering if we should have waited, or slowed down. Now I'm questioning whether or not it was the right thing to do, and I'm wishing that I had taken the high road. That's not me." He remarks that it used to be the only comforting thing about being Pacey Witter was that he always knew what to expect. "And now I don't have a clue, and I'm terrified, and I think that's why I pulled away from you."
Andie gently tells him that it's okay to be scared, that the world is a scary place, and that she doesn't want him to be scared of her. "How can I not be?" he replies. "You're the one opening up a whole new life for me, and I'm afraid ... I'm afraid because you are the single most important being to ever grace my existance, Andie, and I am falling hopelessly in love with you."
Andie falls into a shocked silence (me too ... I think if I ever heard something like that, I probably would never speak again! Could he be any more precious? Especially all damp and rain-slicked like that ...), and Pacey begins to panic. "Say something," he urges. "Because I did just kinda cut myself open and lay it out for you."
"Yeah," Andie swallows, finally finding her voice. "That was ... pretty scary." Pacey's panic escalates to the next level. "That's all you have to say?" he asks nervously. "No," she begins shakily. "I'll say that ... I share your fear. Your exact fear." They smile at each other and melt into a very gentle kiss as the camera pans to her rear-view mirror.
I'm pre-empting all those End of Season polls right here and now by declaring that scene my personal Most Romantic Moment for the second year! Too adorable! But questions still abound -- for example, why did Pacey change his mind? Why did Andie? Was it a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment, lust-fuelled irrational thing (like Jen was advocating last episode) or, was it a mutually-agreed upon, thought-about decision ... or a combination of both?
And above and beyond that, just where did this incident take place? Did they go back to the Bed and Breakfast after the camera faded out at the end of the last episode, or did they go the route of thousands of couples before them and go at it in the backseat? And if the latter is the case, does anyone else think it smacks of irony, considering that was the specific situation Andie was trying to avoid for her first sexual encounter?
Meanwhile, inside the school, Joey and Dawson are at their respective lockers, doing their best to ignore each other. (side note: there's a real-life picture of Katie and her mum in her locker if you look closely!) Finally, Dawson can't hold it in any longer. "You and I cry sex until we're blue in the face, and then then the time comes, all we're left with is a couple of harmless kisses. The setting is right, the timing is perfect, but nothing happened ... why?"
"I know why," Joey answers softly. "The same reason nothing happened with me. It isn't about the perfect setting and the perfect timing -- it's about the perfect person." And with that, she leaves, while the implication of her words sink into Dawson, and viewing fans of the couple breathe a collective sigh of relief. It's gonna be okay for our favourite couple after all. The entire past two episodes have been a test to see who really belongs with whom, and it's suddenly dawned on Dawson and Joey that their "perfect person" is each other. The old adage is true ... friends make the best lovers.
Outside in the rain, Dawson approaches Joey. "Why did you want me to think you slept with Jack?" he asks. Fair question, but she throws it back at him. "Probably for the same reason you wanted me to think you slept with Jen." Dawson calls her on the fact that that really wasn't an answer, but she replies that it's the only one he's going to get. "I'm glad you didn't," he tells her quietly. "I'm glad you didn't either," she smiles in her trademarked, lop-sided way.
Encouraged, Dawson begins to tell her something he's wanted to for weeks now, that he misses her. When she replies that she misses him too, he says that while he doesn't know if they can recapture 15 years of what they had, but he'd be willing to accept any small fraction of what she'd want to send his way. "Maybe we could start slowly," Joey suggests. He agrees, then comments that as the rain isn't going to let up any time soon, how about they make a run for it?
"Nah, I say we walk," Joey grins, and the two of them start across the school lawn using Dawson's jacket as an umbrella in a scene reminiscent of the closing scene from "Some Kind Of Wonderful." (another John Hughes classic, this time my favourite! Sorry, I just saw it recently and it kinda stuck with me, I guess) The walking is a cute metaphor for not rushing back into their previous relationship and literally taking it slow.
As they fade out of sight, Dawson asks what Joey really thought of his script. "You want the whole honest, bitter, cynical truth?" He nods. "I have no idea," she laughs, mocking how mysterious it all is. "You are definitely a mystery," Dawson acknowledges, to which she responds with a smile "Yeah? Well, I like the way you see me." They continue their slow walk back to their houses and back to their relationship of old.
Fade to black...