As usual, we open in Dawson's bedroom, which has been transformed into a movie theatre of sorts. Jack slouches in a chair beside the bed, eating, while his sister and Pacey are snuggled up on one side of the bed, watching Dawson's TV intently. Dawson and Joey are equally cutesy on the other side of the bed, and Jen is lying down at the other end of the bed, stretched out between the two couples.
"Okay, movement break," Dawson announces as he stands and stretches. Surveying the room, he lets out a little giggle. "Anyone else struck by the humour of this moment? That we're all in the same room, at the same time?"
"Yeah," Jack agrees, munching on a chocolate bar. "It is bizzare. I mean, the way we all started the school year, and we actually all managed to come out to be friends." He's got a point -- the group doesn't even need to play Six Degrees of Separation to connect with each other. You've got Jack, whose sister is Andie, who's going out with Pacey, who had a crush on Joey, who's going out with Dawson, who used to go out with Jen. And that's only one permutation.
"Yeah," Andie chimes in happily. "Like St. Elmo's." (Referring, of course, to one of the quintessential Brat Pack movies of the '80s (and one of my all-time faves), St. Elmo's Fire, where a group of young adults befriended, dated, slept with, and broke up with each other, all while coming of age.)
"St. Elmo's from hell," Joey comments with her usual sardonic wit. Cuddling up to his girlfriend, Dawson cheerfully remarks on her negative spin on the conversation, but Joey defends her viewpoint by saying she just thinks, in times of maudlin reflection, it's important to incorporate a little honesty. She flashes him a silly grin, he melts like a puppy, and the two of them win hands-down for Most Nauseatingly Cutest Couple of the night.
Jen, of all people, is quick to back the girl who, once upon a time, was her arch foe. "I happen to agree with Joey," she remarks. "I mean, sure, we've all grown to ... tolerate ... each other, but I still think we're a long shot off from 90210-land of best friends forever." (Ya gotta love Jen ... and those writers, casually tossing in a Beverly Hills, 90210 dig like that. But if that were the case, who would that make Jen? Donna? Kelly? BRENDA??)
It's Pacey's turn to thow in his two cents worth. "I dunno, I kinda think Andie has a point," he begins. "I mean, there kinda has been a lot of hanging around lately."
Back to Jack. "Like when?" he deadpans. "Like ... right now for instance," Pacey answers, his mouth full of popcorn. Standing up, he addresses the rest of them. "Have we even stopped to consider why we've all come here together tonight, if not our need to cohabitate in -- dare I say it -- a click?"
The girls don't like that idea much. "Ewwww," Jen wrinkes her nose in disgust. "Scary," Joey echoes. "Yeah, Pacey," Andie agrees. "When you say it like that --"
Dawson interrupts her. "Wait a minute, though. I mean, no offense to anybody here, but I called up Pacey to invite him to watch a couple of movies -- that hardly qualifies as group hanging out."
"Yeah," Pacey nods, "But then, I invited Andie ..." Andie continues, "... I invited Jack ..." Joey laughs, "... And I better not need an invitation ..." "... And I live here now ..." Jen mutters. "Let's face it guys," Pacey concludes. "We are this far away from the Peach Pit." (Another 90210 reference, in case you've been living on Jupiter the past decade.)
Five stony, silent, disgusted faces greet his announcement. Finally, Joey breaks the quiet. "Kill him!" she shouts gleefully. "Attack!" Andie yells. Before you can say Megaburger (hey, had to throw my own 90210-ism in there, for consistency's sake), the six of them have taken up pillows and are beating the hell out of Pacey, and each other, dissolving into peals of laughter and coating the room in fine white feathers. (Gee, I hope no one has any allergies.) Hmph. I'm sure Gale will be pleased when she has to clean up that mess.
Fast forward a little bit to Friday morning at school. Andie, complete with freshly-dyed brown hair, is walking across the campus briskly, Jack and Pacey in tow like a couple of babbling fools. "W-w-wow," Pacey stammers, staring at her head.
"Sounds like a lack of lack of enthusiasm," Andie observes sharply. Pacey trips over his tongue, frantically searching for a way to mask his surprise. "Uh ... you got a new 'do." "You don't like it," Andie answers for him, while Jack makes wild finger-across-the-throat, kill-it gestures behind her back.
"I didn't say that," Pacey replies quickly, eyeing Jack. "He didn't say that," Jack echoes. Andie isn't impressed. "No. New hairstyles are judged by immediate response. Yours was lacklustre," she prounounces.
Pacey rushes to overcompensate for his earlier faux-pas. "I-I-I ... think you look fantastic, sweetheart!" he gushes. "Right," Andie snorts disbelievingly. "You just don't look like ... you," Pacey finishes lamely, cringing as he says the last word, because he realizes that, the mood she's in, he shouldn't've said that. (Note to male readers: No matter what your girlfriend does to her hair -- I don't care if she dyes it red, white and blue or shaves it all off a la Sinead O'Connor -- smile sweetly, tell her it looks fabulous, and then just shut up! Trust me, you'll thank me for this one day.)
"Hmph. Keep digging, you're approaching China," Andie snaps. Pacey and Jack look at each other agitatedly. "You know what? I love it. I love it!" Pacey over-compensates. "Jack?" His eyes plead with his girlfriend's brother for a bit of male solidarity. "He loves it," Jack babbles. "Clearly, he loves it!" "It's beautiful!" Pacey forces a laugh. "You've never looked better!"
"Liars, both of you," Andie fumes, pushing past them to a bulletin board. Pacey knows his goose is cooked, so he does the only thing he can do in a situation like this -- he changes the subject. "Look, anyway, about tonight ... I was thinking dinner, movie, nice romantic stroll down by the pier?" he asks hopefully.
"Uh-huh," Andie studies a flyer on the board intently. "Think again. I've got to study for finals, not to mention take care of mom." She shoots Jack a dirty look as she walks around to the other side of the board. "Andie, it's Friday night," Pacey says reasonably. "You have plenty of opportunities to hit the books over the weekend. What say we take tonight off?"
Still concentrating on the notices on the board, Andie tells Pacey that's a good idea. "You should. I mean, you should take tonight off. I would love it. But I'm gonna study!" She storms off in a huff towards the school.
"Do I deserve this?" Pacey asks the heavens, half-rhetorically. But before the Lord above can answer his question, antsy Andie explodes with another crisis. "Oh, Jeez! How could I do this? Damnit!" Jack and Pacey rush over to her and ask what the matter is. "I have the wrong book for pre-Calc. Mrs. Saunders is gonna kill me!" she fumes.
Pacey suggest perhaps the book is in her locker. "Yeah, well, it better be," Andie growls and storms off in a huff. After she leaves, Pacey turns to Jack questioningly. "Okay ... so?" He waits eagerly for some familial insight into what has possessed his beloved (cause her shenanigans go waaay beyond the PMS monster). "It's the hair," Jack blurts. "Okay? She's extra-sensitive ... she did it herself." (You know, I could make a comment right here about how Andie should have gone to Jack for help with her hair, seeing as he could potentially be a ... hairdresser ... one day, but I won't do that. Oops. My bad. I just did ...) (By the way, that wasn't intended as a gay crack, it was intended as a Jack crack, okay?!)
"Well, ain't love grand," Pacey snarls and stalks off into the school. Looks like Andie's bad case of the crankies is contagious; however, she seems to have found an antidote. As she digs through her locker looking for the elusive pre-Calc. book, she looks up to see a tall, brown-haired, flannel-shirted guy smile at her from across the hall. Instantly, the little storm cloud over her head dissipates, and she flashes him her sunniest smile. He continues to smile at her warmly and calmly, and you can almost see the serenity and relief beaming out of her.
Outside, Dawson is perusing the same bulletin board Andie was at a few minutes earlier, when Joey amushes him from behind with a big kiss. "What's the plan for tonight?" she asks happily. "Eh, I dunno," Dawson replies. "I think we'll rent a movie."
Joey sighs. "Dawson, do you know what we've done for the past four Friday nights? Here's a hint -- Be Kind, Rewind." "Okay, so we won't rent a movie," he smiles. "We'll watch a movie instead." "Har har," Joey says sarcastically. Dawson smiles at her. "It's not like I prefer the situation. I mean, I do try to make our evenings as spontaneous as possible ..." he replies suggestively, pulling her in close to him and touching her forehead with his own.
"Nothing against you Dawson," Joey pulls away, "But I think because we've been friends for so long, and we know each other so well ... that our chemistry? The only thing it doesn't produce is sponteneity."
"Ah, oh ... that's me," Dawson salutes. "Captain of Humdrum." Joey immediately feels guilty. "I said us." "Ah, but you meant me," he jokes. Joey tries a different tactic. "I am a little surprised you're being okay with this, considering it is our one month anniversary for whatever we are or ... were ... or ... are."
"Joey," he sighs. "We are boring, trite people, okay? We are absolutely incapable of spontenaiety." She looks non-plussed at his assessment. "We do things, like plan, and organize," he continues, "and make reservations weeks in advance at top-notch restaurants to celebrate one month anniversaries of whatever it is we are or ... were ... or ... are."
Her face lights up. "You didn't!" she exclaims with a broad grin. "It was gonna be a surprise until you got all persnickety on me," Dawson teases. "I didn't get persnickety," Joey laughs. "It's okay though," Dawson continues. "You're a very cute persnickety." "I did not get persnickety," Joey repeats, while Dawson snickers. "Okay," she confesses, "that was persnickety." Holding hands, they laugh and make their way towards the school.
Later that evening, Jen is enjoying the stars out on the Leerys' porch, despite the glum look on her face. She is soon joined by Gale, equally glum, who sits down beside her on the steps. "You could call her, you know," Gale comments softly. "Who?" Jen asks. "Who do you think?" Gale replies, meaning Grams, of course. Jen sighs. "I just don't think I'd have much to say to her, and at this point, I don't think she'd really have a whole lot to say to me, either."
Gale doesn't believe that, so Jen explains herself. "It's not that I don't want to talk to her, but ... where would it lead? I mean, maybe I'd move back in ... a few weeks of mild reconciliation ... and then the inevitable ideology clash. I've just accepted that there are certain people who aren't meant to fit into your life, no matter how much you want them to be."
"I'm intimately familiar with that predicament," Gale smiles sympathetically. Jen looks horrified that she's dredged up painful memories for her hostess. "Oh! I am so sorry, I didn't mean to imply you and --"
"No, no, it's okay, honey," Gale soothes. A comfortable silence settles in as each is lost in her own thoughts of whom she has lost. Gale breaks the quiet with an offer Jen can't refuse. "What say we just have a night of good food, good music, good conversation and put the past on the back burner for a few hours?" "I'd have to say that's the best offer I've gotten in quite a while!" Jen smiles broadly, as Gale gives her houseguest a quick squeeze.
Speaking of the person Jen didn't mean to imply Gale had lost, Mitch and his new, uh, "friend," Nicole (a.k.a. Ms. Kennedy, Dawson's film teacher from hell) are strolling down Capeside's main street. "Entre Nous," Mitch states. "I wonder what that means in French?" "It means 'just between us,'" Nicole answers. "Like a secret?" Mitch asks. "Or ... a kiss," she replies, proceeding to briefly touch his lips with her own.
"That was slightly unexpected," Mitch says, a bit flustered. "It was?" Nicole asks quizzically. "Well, we've been spending a lot of time together at school, we've been on a few dates ... it's clear that we enjoy each other's company. It's only natural that things progress," she says very matter-of-factly.
Mitch nods. "You're right. You're right. I'm just ... kind of a teenager about all this." He sounds sheepish. "I'm a little bit out of practice." "Ah, see, the key is not to think about it. You have to keep your mind off it. Think about how beautiful the evening is, how quaint the restaurant is we're about to enter ... even how romantic a street light can be," Nicole purrs at him. That's enough incentive for Mitch -- he leans over and kisses her firmly, right there in the street, much to her delight. "After you, ma cherie," he gallantly holds the door of the restaurant open for her.
Now it's Mr. Leery, Jr. and his escort's turn to stroll the streets of Capeside. Joey's all decked out in a lovely little black number, while Dawson is apparently wearing the same suit he wore to Abby's funeral. "Entre Nous," Joey states, repeating Mitch's words of a few minutes earlier. "That's where we're going?" "Yep," Dawson says proudly. "Dawson, that's too expensive," Joey protests, but he won't hear of it. "Ah, the market was high, I had a little extra to throw around," he jokes.
"No, seriously, it doesn't matter where we eat at, okay?" Joey tells him, obviously feeling guilty about the estimated price of their impending meal. "Joey, we have been together for a month. I want to take you for meal in an establishment that is worthy of your beauty," Dawson smiles, but Joey rolls her eyes at him for such a cheesy statement. "Okay," he says sheepishly. "I admit, that wasn't an unprepared statement." "Yeah, I figured," she laughs. "C'mere," Dawson laughs with her, pulling her close and kissing her passionately.
Inside the restaurant, he's equally as passionate, but unfortunately, it isn't in a good way. "I made reservations two weeks ago!" Dawson explodes at the maitre d'. "I'm sorry," the tuxedo-clad host tells him, "I didn't realize there were two Leery parties." "Two Leery parties?" Dawson echoes. "Yes," the maitre'd answers, gesturing towards Mitch and Nicole's table. "Dawson?" Mitch looks over and spots his son. "Dad ... great," Dawson mutters under his breath.
Not everyone is having a cozy dinner a deux this evening, though. Andie is at her therapist's, reviewing the events of the past month with her. "It's possible you're experiencing symptoms of what's called complicated grief," she tells Andie. "Your medical history makes you succeptible to this sort of anxiety following the loss of a loved one."
Andie insists it doesn't have anything do to with her brother, but her therapist wasn't referring to Tim. "I'm talking about Abby Morgan," she explains. "Her death seems to have upset you a great deal, which ultimately may have triggered some unresolved issues with your brother's passing." Andie nods solemnly, taking it all in as the therapist continues. "It's critical we stay on top of this. Have you seen Abby any other times besides the incident you spoke of a month ago?"
"No, uh ... just that once," Andie answers quickly. "Now that I think about it, I may not have seen her at all." Her therapist assures her it's okay if she did, but by the look on Andie's own face, it clearly isn't okay to her. Then, her therapist does something that, in all my years of therapy (tee hee), I have never seen done before. She gives Andie her home phone number (!!), and tells her to call if she feels her anxiety is getting worse.
Andie meekly takes the card from her. "Also," the therapist tells her, "I want you in here early next week, and we can decide then if you're in need of any kind of medication." "Medication?" Andie repeats dully. "But you said I wouldn't have to go back on it ..." "It's different now," the therapist gently tells her. "What's going on inside you, Andie, may not be healing itself properly. The sooner we confront this, the better."
Discouraged and depressed, Andie walks down Capeside's main drag (a very popular street tonight, it would seem!) to her car. She gets in behind the wheel, and looks over to her passenger seat, where the same mysterious guy from school earlier in the day is sitting. "I like your hair," he tells her softly. "Thanks," Andie replies quietly and looks down at her lap.
"Did you tell her about me?" the mystery guy asks, to which Andie replies she couldn't. "That's good," he nods. "What we have is a secret." Andie looks up at him with troubled eyes. "Not for long," she whispers. "They're gonna find out, Brown, and then we're gonna have to leave each other."
Brown assures her he isn't going anywhere. "Promise me?" Andie begs, her lips trembling and her eyes glistening with tears. "Because I can't lose you. I don't have this with anyone else, I mean, no one listens like you do." She starts to cry, telling him how scared she is. "I know," Brown soothes, stroking her hair gently.
Suddenly, something deep within Andie is triggered, and from nowhere a volcano of rage erupts. "God! Why did this have to happen to me? Why? Why?!" Sobbing, she slams her fists against the steering wheel. After a moment or two, Andie hurls herself into Brown's arms, crying uncontrollably.
At the Leerys', Gale and Jen are busy building a fire for their female bonding night, but Jen has other things on her mind. "Can I ask you a question that sort-of breaks our backburner rule?" she asks Gale, who agrees. Jen takes a deep breath. "What kind of hope do you hold for you and Mr. Leery getting back together?"
Gale's a bit taken aback, but manages to say she would be lying to Jen if she said she didn't think about it every day. Jen gently asks if Gale has, in fact, tried to get Mitch back. "Oh, a few pathetic attempts here and there," Gale smiles sadly, "but it's pointless, Jen. You can't connive or entice love. By definition, it has to find its way to you."
Jen nods. "Dawson said that you got a job offer to go to Philedelphia ... did you take that?" "I don't know," Gale shrugs. "I'm waiting for that sign." Jen is puzzled. "What ... sign?" "You know," Gale tells her, "one of those small moments in life that provides some clarity ... a little occasion that lets you know where you need to go ... who you need ot be with -- or not be with."
The expression on Jen's face changes as Gale is speaking. "Smoke," she frowns. Gale smiles at her. "I think that sign's a little extreme, dear." "No, I mean, I smell smoke," Jen tells her as the two jump up from the couch. "Oh my God!" Gale cries. "The pot roast!"
Speaking of dinner, Joey and Dawson seem to have been accomodated at Entre Nous -- sort of. They're sharing a table with Mitch and Nicole, making for uncomfortable dinner conversation and awkwardness all around. Mitch tries to smooth the silence. "This place is really packed. I, um, guess we're lucky they could squeeze us all in together."
"I'll say ... lucky," Dawson says pointedly. Joey shoots him a warning look for his troubles, as a deafening silence envelops the table. Mitch tries again. "Nicole and I were just discussing your summer plans ..." he tells his son, hoping Nicole will pick up the slack. She does, pouring on the charm for Mitch's sake. "Yes," she smiles with fake-enthusiasm. "Your father mentioned the possibility of you interning in Hollywood." (Wait -- Dawson's going to Hollywood? Since when?) Dawson looks at her non-plussed, so she continues. "I have plenty of contacts there, I'm sure I can set you up with a summer job with an agency or production company." Again, Nicole flashes a false smile at him, trying her best to score points.
Dawson won't stand for it, though. "Isn't that the city that you said, and I quote, would 'eat me for breakfast?'" he asks, sounding very chipper indeed. Mitch looks tersely at him for his shenanigans, while Joey's head whirls around to Nicole for reaction.
"Look," Nicole begins calmly, "I'm sorry if I was ... hasty ... in my analysis --" "Apology not accepted," Dawson says cheerfully. Joey's head whirls back to his side of the table, like she's watching some sort of verbal tennis match. Mitch is aghast. "Dawson, you don't mean that ..." he begins apologetically.
"Yes, I do," Dawson answers firmly. "I spent months working on that film that you gave two thoughts to before annihilating, after which you proceeded to steer me away from the business as much as possible, but now that you're dating my father, all of a sudden I'm worthy of an internship in Los Angeles."
Nicole is taken aback at having her hypocrisy exposed. "You asked me to be truthful, Dawson," she says defensively. "Now, I may not be a fan of your work, but I'm certainly a fan of your enthusiasm. I mean, there are plenty of other opportunities in the film business, not just creatively speaking."
Though she tried to wriggle off the hook, neither Joey nor Dawson will let her. While the former chooses to just shoot Nicole an icy glare, the latter goes for the jugular. "Ah, so I'm not creative enough," Dawson restates Nicole's words, slightly twisting them. "No, you're misunderstanding me," Nicole says in a fluster. "I don't think I am," Dawson replies calmly.
Just then, the waiter appears, interrupting the tension. "Is everyone ready to order?" he enquires. "Uh yeah ..." Mitch manages to say, a little disconcerted by the events unfolding before him. "You guys go ahead," Joey says, speaking for the first time since the trouble unfolded. "Dawson and I will be right back."
With that, she gets up from the table and walks towards the bar, Dawson in tow. "So, this is your idea of a romantic evening?" Joey says accusingly. "Joey, the woman trashed my movie, came this close to crushing every single one of my career hopes, and now she's stealing my father? What am I supposed to do, just talk about the weather?" Dawson replies, completely agitated.
"I know. I realize this," Joey sighs. "but by letting her get the best of you, you're putting that petty little battle before us, and our night. I mean, it's upsetting." As deep as his contempt for Nicole runs, Dawson's love for Joey runs even deeper. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he nods, knowing he carried the provocation of Nicole a little too far. "Look, hey, for the sake of our evening, I will rise above it. Okay?" Joey smiles, and Dawson gives her a small kiss by way of apology.
As they break apart, Joey's eyes drift towards the door. "Oh, no." Gale and Jen have just entered the restaurant, Gale done up to the nines in a stunningly sexy, short black dress and heels and Jen in a nice-enough outfit, albeit with these weird boots that look like they were borrowed directly from Frankenstein's monster. (and no, that isn't a mistake -- Frankenstein was the doctor, his monster didn't actually have a name.) Dawson's eyes follow Joey's, and he spots his mother and his houseguest slipping off their coats across the room. "Is this a French restaurant, or a French farce?" he wonders aloud.
Over at the McPhee residence, Andie and Pacey (being the only two people, it seems who opted not to go for dinner at Entre Nous this evening) are hanging out in her bedroom watching TV on the bed, miles apart. Suddenly, she jumps up. "I'm gonna go get something to drink," she blurts and leaves the room abruptly.
Downstairs, in the kitchen, Brown has appeared, seemingly out of the blue. "You're late!" Andie shouts at him. "I thought you'd come earlier!" Brown smiles at her tenderly. "Are you okay?" he asks. Ignoring him, Andie becomes very uneasy and restless. "Look, we can't talk right now, okay? Pacey is upstairs, and I don't want him to find out," she says anxiously. "I don't care about him," Brown tells her. "I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this." Andie's agitation continues. "Look, you know what, it's too hard having you both here at the same time, okay?"
Upstairs, Pacey shifts around on the bed, inadvertantly brushing aside the pillow Andie was leaning on. A large, grey, slim photo album is hidden underneath, and he begins absently flipping through the pages, until one of the images stops him. After staring at it a moment or two, Pacey snaps the album shut and takes it downstairs with him.
"It's not like that, Brown! I can't just tell him!" Andie continues yelling in the kitchen. "It's not that easy! I mean, there are too many repercussions that I am not ready to deal with! Besides, why do I have to tell him in the first place -- would you understand if you were him?" Brown admits he wouldn't. "Then there's nothing I can do," Andie shouts, utterly frustrated.
"There is something," Brown tells her calmly. "You can choose." His request frightens her. "I won't do that, Brown," Andie says firmly, struggling to maintain what little control and sanity she has left -- literally. At that exact moment, Pacey enters the kitchen, a look somewhere between anger, confusion and deep hurt playing out on his face. He raises his arms, bewildered and irritated, while his eyes search frantically for the person Andie was speaking to -- but the elusive Brown has vanished as mysteriously as he first appeared.
Back to Entre Nous, where, entre nous, all hell is about to break out. Joey approaches Jen at the bar. "Joey?" Jen asks, puzzled. "What are you doing here?" Joey asks back, equally puzzled. "I'm here with Gale," Jen explains. "Yeah," Joey says unhappily. "We saw." Jen needs clarification. "We?" "I'm here with Dawson, his father and Ms. Kennedy," Joey tells her, mildly distressed -- not so much at Jen's presence as an interloper between herself and Dawson, but at Gale's presence because of Mitch and Nicole. Not that Joey thinks Gale's an interloper, either -- if anything, she's trying to protect Gale's feelings by averting a potentially awkward situation.
"Ah," Jen nods when Joey explains the spontaneous double dinner date situation. "Yeah," Joey nods back, waiting and wondering what they should do. "Not good," Jen sighs, looking at Mitch sitting by himself over at his table. "Or, maybe not so bad ..."
Just then, Dawson reappears at Mitch's table and asks where Nicole went. "Bathroom," Mitch mutters. "Um, I don't know if you watched the enterance just now, but, um ..." "... Your mother." Mitch finishes for him. "I saw her." "And you're not stressing out about this?" Dawson asks incredulously. Mitch answers equally incredulously. "Why should I stress out about it? She's seen me with Nicole before."
Dawson sighs in exasperation. "Whether you choose to ignore it or not, mom is moments away from choosing whether or not to leave Capeside indefinitely," her sternly tells his father. "Her decision to leave has nothing to do with me," Mitch counters. "It has everything to do with you, dad!" Dawson replies. "She's not just leaving for a great opportunity, she's running away from you ... from your relationship ... and all your unfinished business."
"That unfinished business is only a matter of paperwork and signatures," Mitch informs his son very matter-of-factly. "I don't believe that," Dawson answers, equally matter-of-factly. "And I know that you don't either, Dad, and I'm telling you, if there's even the smallest part of you that wants to work things out with her, don't let her leave ... for your sake and mine."
The potentially awkward scene Joey was hoping to avoid unfolds in all its messy splendour in the ladies' powder room, where two toilets flush simultaneously and two tall, attractive women, each romantically attached to Mitch Leery, emerge simultaneously. Nicole and Gale stare at each other uncomfortably and make their way over to the sinks.
"Hello, Gale," Nicole states coolly, in measured tones of smugness and superiority. Any other woman would feel awkward, uneasy, perhaps even guilty if she ran into her new beau's wife whilst on a date, but not Nicole. Mitch's son, Mitch's wife ... she doesn't care whom she has to walk over in order to win the prize.
Fortunately, Gale won't be walked over that easily. "I was actually contemplating ignoring you," she says calmly, turning on the taps. "I'm sure you were," Nicole smiles icily as she applies her lipstick. (Ewww! She doesn't wash her hands after going to the bathroom? Another black mark against her!)
Gale's curiosity gets the better of her. "You wouldn't, by any chance, be here with ..." -- she can't bring herself to say his name in connection with Nicole's -- "... would you?" "Yes," Nicole radiates another triumphant and glacial smile. "I am."
"Well, that just sucks, doesn't it?" Gale mutters under her breath. "I'm sorry?" Nicole queries, but Gale glosses over it. "Well," she sighs, partially conceding defeat and walking towards the door, "I just got here ... maybe I should call it a night." "Maybe," Nicole agrees smugly. "I mean, it would only be fair to Mitch." (meee-owwww!)
How Gale controls herself here and manages not to slap her is beyond me, because personally, I'd deck the bitch. Instead, she strides purposefully back to the vanity table area and looks directly into Nicole's eyes. "On second thought," Gale pronounces, "I think I'll let Mitch decide what's fair for Mitch." Nicole's face registers disdain and mild alarm at Gale's decision, who tosses in a pleasant but pointed "enjoy your meal" to her nemesis and leaves the bathroom without a backwards glance. (Whoo-hoo! You go, girl!!)
Cut to the McPhee house, where Andie confronts Pacey for eavesdropping in the kitchen. "You were listening to me!" she accuses. "You're damn right I was listening to you, Andie!" he shouts. "What's going on here?" "I don't know what you're talking about," she shouts back, pacing aimlessly. He is not impressed, and follows her around the room. "Don't pull that with me, okay? Who were you on the phone with?"
"I wasn't on the phone!" Andie yells, her voice getting louder and louder. Pacey is completely frustrated now, he knows what he heard. "Were you talking to another guy?" he asks bluntly. Andie won't give him the answer he wants, though. "I don't want to talk about this, okay? Will you just please leave?!"
"Tell me!" Pacey hollers, practically shaking with rage. "Are you seeing somebody else?" "No!" Andie screams at the top of her lungs. "Well then, who were you talking to?!" Pacey demands, just as loudly. "It's none of your business!" Andie bellows. "Now will you please just leave me alone!" She storms out of the kicthen into the hallway.
But Pacey isn't about to go anywhere, and follows her into the hall. "I mean it this time Pacey!" she pleads. Exhausted, he tries a different approach. "Andie, ever since Abby died, your moods have been completely unpredictable," he says, more calmly. Andie stares at the floor as he speaks, unwilling to have this discussion, but at least a little less enraged than she was a few minutes earlier. "Look at me, okay?" Pacey tells her in sheer exasperation. "One minute, you're all over me, the next minute you don't even want to see me, so if it doesn't have anything to do with somebody else, I can't help but think ..." He stops, not wanting to say what's on his mind for fear of setting her off all over again.
"Good," Andie goads him. "Go ahead, say it!" Sighing, Pacey continues quietly. "I'm just wondering if it's maybe some kind of ..." He looks down, ashamed to be reverting to this, but completely out of logical explanations. "... medical situation," he finishes sadly.
"You had to go there," Andie shakes her head in disbelief, starting to get wound up again. "It's the most logical place to go, Andie," Pacey tells her quietly, trying to avert another nuclear meltdown.
Too late. "You know what?" she shouts. "If you don't like having a wacko for a girlfriend, then why don't you do us both a favour and just break up with me?" "I just want to help you, Andie," Pacey pleads, but she's gone way beyond the point of reasoning. "No, you don't want to help me, Pacey, you want explanations for things I can't give you explanations for!"
Pacey picks up the photo album. "Okay, well, can you at least explain these?" "It's a photo album?" she answers, in a tone which suggests he is the mentally unstable one of the pair. "No," he says calmly. "It's pictures of you and your family I've never seen before. You had them out and you were going through them. Why."
His last comment is an accusation, not a question, and it isn't one Andie has a ready answer for. "It's none of your business," she trills smugly. "Andie," Pacey sighs, weary to the point of despair, "You changed your hair back to look like it does in these photos of you and your brothers."
"And?" she asks defiantly. "And," he takes a deep breath, "Coming on the heels of a month where you have been acting anything but normal, I just find it odd you would, all of a sudden, revert back to a hairstyle you had three years ago."
Andie laughs derisively. "Okay, so that's what it's all about? You're freaking out because I went back to an old hairstyle? Okay, which one of us has the problem here?" Pacey struggles to keep his cool. "Just tell me your hair has nothing to do with these pictures," he asks -- no, he begs, hopefully. But her lack of an answer is all the answer he needs.
"Give me back the book!" she shouts. "Why are you acting like this?" Pacey demands. "I said, give me back the book!" Andie screams, and in the resulting tug-of-war that ensues between them, a lamp is accidentally knocked over and smashed to pieces.
Along with the lamp, the palpable tension in the room has been broken, too. Andie and Pacey stare at each other, silently. "You know what?" she blurts a few moments later. "You can stay here if you want, but I'm really tired, and I'm going to bed." And with that, she runs up the stairs, leaving a dazed and confused Pacey behind. He bends to pick up the book, which lies amid the shards of lamp glass, and notices a picture from a few years ago. It's of a smiling, dark-haired Andie, flanked by Jack and her older brother Tim -- also known as the mysterious "Brown."
Back at Entre Nous, Gale thanks the maitre d' for squeezing her and Jen in at the last minute. "My pleasure," he smiles, toping up Gale's wine glass (Jen has water). "Compliments of the house. You're officially Entre Nous's favourite anchorwoman." "Thank you," Gale smiles back warmly, but as soon as he leaves the table, her smile fades to a frown.
"Look at all those happy people," she sighs at Jen. "I never thought romance could be so disgusting." "Nice try, Gale," Jen chortles, "but once a romantic, always a romantic." "Oh, you think so?" Gale asks. "Oh, I know so," Jen replies, adding that she would be willing to bet that if the band started playing a song that struck a chord in Gale, her eyes would well up in a matter of seconds. "I guess certain songs have extra meaning," Gale concedes. Jen sees her "in." "Do you and Mitch have a song?" she asks in seeming innocence. Gale doesn't answer. "Just ... out of curiosity," Jen explains.
Across the room, at Mitch's table, the server interrupts with a bottle of wine from another table "who wishes to remain anonymous." Before anyone can get a word in edgeways to thank him, however, Nicole begins to drone on about her very opinionated views on Hollywood. "I just feel that the quality in films these days -- the story -- is lacking." She turns to Dawson and flashes a false smile. "Promise me when you're a Hollywood big wig you won't waste your time trying to make big money pictures?" Nicole laughs, but no one at the table joins her.
"You don't really mean that, Ms. Kennedy," Joey says modestly. Instantly, Nicole's smile fades. "Excuse me?" Joey points out that, seeing as Ms. Kennedy has already made it perfectly clear that Dawson shouldn't have anything to do with film, isn't it a little ... persnickety of her to imply that he may some day be a Hollywood big wig? She finishes with a sweeter-than-sweet smile, which Nicole returns sourly. Dawson, meanwhile, looks at his girlfriend (or whatever it is they're choosing to call each other this time around) astonished, while Mitch coughs. "Persnickety?" Nicole repeats, slightly miffed.
Cut to Andie's place, where Pacey is busy sweeping up the fragments of broken glass from the lamp. Jack arrives on the scene (where was he for all that shouting, I wonder?) and asks what happened. "Your sister, man," Pacey sighs. "We got into a fight, and this is what happened." Pacey exhales deeply as Jack surveys the damage. "Jack, something is wrong. I mean, really, really wrong."
Jack matches Pacey's sigh with one of his own. "Last night, I caught her talking to herself. I mean, she says she wasn't ... but I heard her." "So did I," Pacey nods. "Tonight she was in the kitchen, and I thought she was talking to somebody on the phone." Jack frowns. "Talking with who?" he asks. (with "whom," he should have asked, but eh, he's worried about his sister, what does he care about grammar?)
Pacey replies that while he didn't hear the whole conversation, "It sounded like she was talking to someone named Brown." Jack's face pales. "You know who that is," Pacey says softly. But before Jack can answer, Andie speaks from the stairs, where she's been listening to the two of them.
"It's my name for Tim," she says quietly. "When I was little, I couldn't pronounce Timothy, so I called him by my favourite colour -- brown." Jack and Pacey stare up at her, silently. "You think I'm crazy, but I'm not," she pleads. "No, Andie. Nobody said that," Jack replies quietly. She doesn't believe him. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm not. I'm not crazy! I'm not like mom!" She starts crying and shouting, wanting desparately for her brother and boyfriend to understand what she trying to tell them. "I see Tim and he is here!
Pacey tries to reassure her. "We know, Andie," he soothes. Unfortunately, it isn't enough. She rushes down the remaining stairs, choking back sobs, and hurls herself into the ground floor bathroom, a few mere feet away from Pacey and Jack,who exchange worried looks. They begin pounding on the door with their fists. "Come on, Andie!" Pacey shouts. "Open this door!"
At the restaurant, Nicole is droning on about her latest Tinseltown project. "I want it to have the commerciality of a When Harry Met Sally, but with a drier, more ironic tone of Nicholas In May," she tells her captive (not by choice) audience. (Incidentally, I thought she was against commercially successful films -- did she not just finish telling Dawson to steer clear of them in his future career? And secondly, I'm not sure of that second film's name, I played this scene over and over and over again and that's all I could come up with. So, if anyone knows what the hell movie she's actually talking about, please e-mail me. Thank you.)
Joey, for one, has had enough of Nicole's hypocritical, pompous ways and her narcissistic, I-love-me-who-do-you-love demeanour. "Ms. Kennedy?" she interrupts. "What exactly was the most lacking thing about Dawson's film?"
Dawson looks at Joey in confusion -- didn't she just tell him not to do what she herself was now doing? "Oh God," Nicole sighs. "Do we have to go through this again?" She sips her wine in disgust. "No, we don't," Dawson interjects quickly. "I think we should," Joey reiterates. "Joey ..." Mitch cautions warningly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Leery, but there's obviously a serious undercurrent of tension between Dawson and Ms. Kennedy." Joey begins sweetly enough, but channels the ghost of Abby Morgan as she continues. "And it seems to me that the only way that they can have peace is to confront the issue that Ms. Kennedy finds your son to be completely and totally without talent or ability in any way, shape or form."
"No, no, no," Nicole says, flustered, "I didn't say that." Joey smiles at Nicole in mock-surprise. "What was it that you did say?" she asks. "Yeah, what exactly did you say?" Dawson chimes in.
Put on the spot, Nicole stares at the pair in utter contempt, which is thinly-disguised for Mitch's sake. "Look," she says evenly and coldly, "I believe that the key to success is not only having a dream, but having the right dream. There are plenty of people who aspire to be writers and directors but very few actually have the potential."
"Who are you to be judging anyone's potential?" Dawson explodes. (I guess he figures if Joey can speak her mind, it gives him a green light to, as well) "You spend a couple of years in Hollywood before disappearing to some small East Coast town to teach high school! Whatever success you had in Hollywood, it couldn't have been much."
If Dawson was aiming to mortally wound that which Nicole held dearest to her heart, he didn't. After all, you can't destroy the heart of someone who doesn't have one in the first place. Nicole's true colours are beginning to show through, though, and they aren't flattering. She icily informs Dawson that, if that's the case, it "really shouldn't matter what I think of your ability, should it?"
Finally, Mitch does what we've been waiting for him to do all evening -- Mr. Sit-on-the-fence Wimp takes a stand, and lo and behold, it's the right one. "Well, he's a kid with a dream, Nicole," he pipes up. "Isn't your job as a teacher to encourage him to follow it?"
Nicole's reached her breaking point. First Dawson turns on her (which she probably half-expected), then that bratty, precocious Potter child, and now her date? "That's a really cozy fantasy, Mitch," she snaps, "But life has a meaner bite than that." (Yeah, and she should know, her bite is the meanest of all ...)
Abby's possession of Joey's body isn't quite finished yet. "You know," Joey remarks in a very nonchalant manner, "There's a name for individuals who focus on life's meaner bite. It's called bitter." Nicole gasps increduloulsy as her gaze shifts from Joey to Mitch and back to Joey again, while Joey meets her eyes with a face of pseudo-innocence, as if she can't understand what Nicole's all riled up about. (Okay Abby, you can go back to the netherworld, now.)
"Well, on that note," Nicole stands up and excuses herself from the table. Dawson, who is slightly amused at the confrontation between his and his father's dates, asks if he can talk to Joey for a second, and leads her away from the tabel and over to the bar. Seeing that Mitch has been deserted by his dining companions, the server rushes over and asks if everything is all right. Mitch shakes his head slightly and chortles to himself in disbelief, while holding out an empty wine bottle for refill.
At the bar, Dawson asks Joey what is going on. "What are you talking about?" she answers, wide-eyed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he replies. "About 10 minutes after you warned me to start practicing a little bit of decorum, you start pushing every button at that table." "You'll find out momentarily," Joey says with a small smile. Dawson starts to speak again, but is cut off by the arrival of Jen, who informs the pair that "Operation Reunited" has begun.
"Operation Reu ... what is going on?" Dawson asks the pair, but is met only with a "Don't worry" from Joey and a "You'll find out" from Jen. The maitre d' approaches the trio then, and enquires if they received the wine they asked for. They did, and both girls thank him. (Yeah, and what kind of matire'd risks his establishment's liquor licence by arranging wine to be delivered by underage patrons, even if not for their own consumption?)
"All right," Dawson shakes his head, completely chagrined. "He knows. The maitre d' knows and I don't know!" "Just wait," Joey smiles. "Watch," Jen agrees, and the three of them stare across the room -- presumably like three little matchmakers (well, two little matchmakers and one clueless fool), but personally, they reminded me more of Jack, Janet and Terri from Three's Company, concocting some sort of harebrained, farcical scheme.
The band strikes up Peaches and Herb's "Reunited" as Mitch approaches Gale's table. "Familiar song," he comments. "Not familiar enough, Mitch" Gale replies with a sad smile. "You're not here with me." "Well, one dance never killed anybody," he counters reasonably. Gale looks down at the table shyly as Mitch holds out his hand to lead her to the dance floor.
>From the bar area, Dawson, Joey and Jen watch on. "I don't believe it!" Dawson grins. "Maybe there's more romance in the air than we thought," Joey smiles. "Or, maybe we're just really good," Jen laughs.
As Mitch and Gale slowly circle the floor, he thanks her for the wine she sent to his table earlier in the night. "Very mature of you," he comments. At first, Gale is perplexed about the wine, but when she looks over at his son, his son's girlfriend and his son's ex-girlfriend, all becomes crystal clear. "Oh, well ... you know moi," she laughs lightly, "Miss Maturity."
A pregnant pause settles in, which Mitch aborts by asking what's up with Philly. "Still deciding?" he enquires. "Judging by the evening's seating arrangements, that doesn't seem to be a concern of yours anymore," Gale answers quietly. "Point taken," Mitch nods. "But as Dawson's father, I feel compelled to make a quiet plea on his behalf." "What do you mean?" Gale asks, confused. "He's like his father," Mitch replies. "He's not very good at expressing himself ... (yeah, right!) ... and I just don't know how well he's gonna get along with you gone."
Gale takes it all in as they slowly circle the dance floor. "At first, maybe," she nods. "But eventually, he'll be fine." "Still, if I know Dawson," Mitch insists, "He's never going to let on just how much he's ... missing ... you." (Anyone get the feeling Mitch isn't talking about his son, here? ;) ) "He could just ask me to stay ..." Gale offers. (Anyone get the feeling Gale isn't talking about her son here, either?) "Yeah, see, but that wouldn't be fair, would it?" Mitch replies. "You deserve the opportunity too much." "Well," Gale sighs, "I'll miss him too."
Dawson, Joey and Jen watch the couple from the sidelines, but quickly look away when Gale gazes in their direction. Suddenly, the song ends, and Mitch and Gale are left standing awkwardly on the dance floor. They each go their separate ways -- Gale back to her table by herself, where she sits and thinks about the events of the past few minutes, and Mitch back to his table, where Nicole is also sitting and thinking about the events of the past few minutes. She gives Mitch a cold smile and sips her wine.
Back at the McPhees', things are less tranquil. Pacey and Jack are frantically trying to get Andie to come out of the bathroom, but she's not responding. Pacey tries the lock a few times, but it won't budge, so he suggests they jimmy it. "I'll get a knife," Jack suggest and races to the kitchen. "Andie!" Pacey shouts. "Open this door, please! Andie, stop crying!" he begs.
Inside the bathroom, Andie is a hysterical mess. When Tim appears in the mirror, it only increases her sobbing and hyperventilation. "Go away!" she screams at his reflection. Outside the door, Pacey thinks she's talking to him. "I'm not going anywhere, Andie," he tells her. "Not you!" she wails. "Tim!" Pacey closes his eyes in despair. "Is he in there right now? Is Tim in there with you? Jack!" he shouts down the hall to Andie's brother.
"I said go away!" Andie yells at Tim. "You're not real! God!" Silently, Tim's reflection stares back at her from the bathroom mirror, frustrating and confusing her so much that she picks up a ceramic soap dispenser and hurls it at the glass. On the other side of the door, Pacey is frantic with worry. Jack has returned with a knife, and is doing his best to jimmy the lock, but to no avail. When they hear the sound of smashing glass, they fear the worst. "What was that? What broke?" Pacey demands, his voice stretched thin with emotion. "Are you all right?
"Andie, open this door!" Jack shouts at his sister, but it's no use. Andie sinks slowly to the floor of the bathroom, whimpering and shaking as tears fall from her eyes. "They don't believe you," Tim states quietly. "They think you're crazy, but you're not." "Yes I am, I am crazy," Andie whispers.
Crouching with his ear pressed to the door, Pacey hears Andie's words. "Who said you're crazy, Andie?" he asks. "Because I don't think you're crazy and Jack doesn't think you're crazy either, okay?" "Yes, you do!" she shouts from the bathroom. "No, we don't," Pacey insists firmly. "I believe you, Andie. Okay? I believe that you're seeing Tim right now and that he's there and you're talking to him." Inside the bathroom, Tim gently strokes Andie's face as Pacey continues talking. "But you know what? It's not fair that Tim can see me and I can't see him, so I need you to do me a favour. I need you to tell me what he's saying, okay?" Pacey urges her.
As if on cue, Tim begins to speak to his baby sister. "I'll take care of you," he says calmly. "You can't trust anyone else, they don't understand." Andie continues to shake and cry, sniffling back her tears and choking on her sobs. "He says you don't understand," she whispers through the door to Pacey.
"You tell Tim he's wrong," Pacey says steadily. "I may not understand everything that's going on with you right now, Andie, but I understand you. Do you hear me? You tell Tim that." But Tim doesn't need Andie to tell him, he hears Pacey loud and clear. "You have to choose, Andie," he tells his sister, in a voice just as calm and urgent and steady as Pacey's. "Let me take care of you. I'll make you better."
"No!" Andie wails. "I can't. I can't choose." Hearing this, Pacey has an idea. "Tim's right, Andie," he prompts from the other side of the door. "You do have to choose." Jack is taken aback by Pacey's suggestion. "What're you doing?" he asks, bewildered. "You do --" Pacey holds up a hand to silence him. "No," Andie sobs. "I don't want to." Her cries catch in her throat. "I can't."
"You have to, Andie," Pacey says again, calmly. "You have to choose. And I'm begging you, from the bottom of my heart, to please, choose me." His request is met with silence as Andie continues to cry quietly. "Open this door, come out here, and choose me. Please." Again, Andie does nothing except keep sobbing silently. "You are so special," Pacey whispers, "and you give so much to everybody around you, and you know what? I need you more than Tim does. And so does Jack."
"That's not true!" she moans. "Yes, it is," Pacey insists. "My life began when I met you, Andie. And you never gave up on me, so I'm not gonna give up on you." Inside the bathroom, Andie leans up against the door, trembling, her face wet with tears. "So please, Andie," Pacey continues, "For the love of God, Andie ... please come out here and choose me. Please."
Confused, Andie continues to wail and shake on the other side of the door. Tim silently brushes the tears from her face. She looks at him longingly, not knowing whom to believe or what to do. Outside, Pacey is on the verge of tears, emotionally drained and mentally exhausted. Jack, too, looks like he is about to cry, as the pair anxiously await her next word or movement. After a few minutes of this impasse, a visibly shaken Andie, on the verge of hyperventilation, slowly stands up, leaning on the doorknob for support, and unlocks the door, though she doesn't open it.
Pacey and Jack leap to their feet and rush to open the door, as Andie collapses into Pacey's waiting arms. "Come here," he soothes, as she begins to cry violently all over again against his chest. "It's okay." The relief in the room is tangible. "You're alright ... it's okay ..."
Pacey looks over at Jack, who doesn't quite know what to do with himself. He paces the hall, a tangle of emotions -- happy they have won the battle, but sad knowing there is still a large war to be fought. (Poor Jack. First his brother dies, then his mother goes loopy, then his father abandons them, now his sister breaks down ... and on top of it all, he's got to deal with being an "outed" gay teenager ... I'm surprised he hasn't cracked yet. Hmm ... perhaps the writers are saving that for season three ...?)
Fast-forward a few hours, and Andie has been put to sleep by her brother and boyfriend, who make their way down to the kitchen to discuss what to do next. "For starters, we call my dad," Jack sighs. Pacey tries to talk some reason into him."Come on, Jack, think about what you're saying." "Well, no one's less happy about the idea than I am, but he needs to know ..." Jack trails off.
"Your father wasn't there for your mother, what makes you think he's gonna be there for Andie?" Pacey asks. "She needs help, Pacey," Jack says miserably. "More than you or I or any one person can give her. My father, he can afford that kind of help."
"Maybe she just needs time to heal," Pacey volunteers. "Time could heal her?" he asks hopefully. "Not with this," Jack replies sadly. "Time makes things worse." Pacey shakes his head, telling Jack he doesn't know that, but Jack counters that he does -- he watched it happen with his mother. "At first, it was just like this," he reminisces. "A few minor episodes here and there ... and then, before anyone wanted to deal with it, she was too far gone. The doctors, they gave us this clinical explanation -- they said her grief over my brother's death was repressed to the point where she couldn't experience it with anyone, so her subconscious had to create someone to experience it with."
Pacey stares at the floor, trying to understand, as Jack continues in a whisper. "I remember feeling so small and helpless when I heard that. I wanted to believe so badly there was something I could do ... but there wasn't ..." His voice breaks and he sheds a tear, the memory still too painful. After a long silence, Pacey finally speaks. "Go. Call your dad." The two look at each other, defeated, but knowing in their hearts they are doing the right thing.
Speaking of doing the right thing, Jen and Gale are enjoying an apres-dinner stroll down Capeside's main street when Gale thanks Jen for the evening's events. Jen pretends not to know what Gale is talking about, but Gale explains she received her "sign" tonight -- though the shenannigans were a little too Parent Trapesque for her taste. "Hey, I had short notice," Jen quips, and the two giggle.
"So, does this mean you're gonna stay in Capeside?" Jen asks hopefully. Gale smiles. "I never thought I would. Every part of me wanted to flee this town and rebuild ... but when I was holding him in my arms on the dance floor tonight, I realized that I could move 10,000 miles away and I'd never let Mitch go. He felt it too. I'm as sure of that as I am of anything."
Are you sure you're sure, Gale? The minute the words leave her mouth, her eyes catch sight of Mitch and Nicole holding hands at a pier a little ways away. Apparently, Dawson's argumentitive streak, Jen and Joey's hijinx and even the presence of Gale wasn't enough to seriously sabotage to the budding lovebirds. Gale pales at the sight of her husband cuddling up next to Nicole the iceberg, and bolts down the street away from the pair. Jen stares at the oblivious Mitch and Nicole a moment longer, then turns and runs after Gale.
Mr. Leery, Jr. is also having romantic success this evening. Dawson and Joey are cozied up in their rowboat, gently drifting across the creek. He's sitting behind her, and she's leaning back against his chest. "If I don't eat another French meal for as long as I live, it won't be too soon," Joey grins.
"What, I thought it was a pretty successful evening," Dawson grins back. "Yeah?" Joey turns to look at him, wrinkling her nose in disbelief. "So far," he replies in a low, husky voice, pulling her in for a kiss. After a few seconds, his hand moves up and gently tugs on her cardigan, exposing her bare shoulder.
"Huh-huh," Joey giggles with a twinkle in her eye. "Okay, um ... confession time?" "Yeah?" Dawson asks. "Um ... by any chance, did you think that by planning this romantic evening that we would wind up, uh ... closing the deal?"
"Joey Potter! You vulgar little thing!" Dawson laughs. "See, I prefer the term 'consummating our ultimate desires.'" "Ohhhh," she laughs. "Okay." Dawson's a bit taken aback by her light treatment of the subject. "I didn't realize the notion was that preposterous," he comments, just before kissing her again.
"It's not." Joey smiles up at him. "I thought about it, too." Encouraged, Dawson smiles at her. "Well," he whispers, "the night is still young." Joey digests the implication of his words in the silence that follows. "So are we," she whispers back. Instantly, his smile fades. "Okay," he nods.
More silence follows. "But you said you thought about it," Dawson reaffirms. "Yes, Dawson," Joey laughs. "Thought." It's Dawson's turn to digest the implication of her words. "You've actually considered thought about it, or you just plain thought about it?"
Joey laughs some more. "What difference does it make?" Dawson replies he's a teenage guy, it makes all the difference in the world. They kiss again, and after breaking, Joey admits she "considered it" thought about it, which elicts a big smile from Dawson. "Well, that's good." She nods. "Considered's very good."
They kiss again, and Joey tells him it's time to go. He gets up from his snuggling position behind her, wobbling a bit, and positions himself beside her, where he picks up the oars and begins rowing. After a few strokes, he breaks the comfortable silence which has settled in between them. "So, when you say you've considered it, you've like, really considered it, or you've just thought about it considered it?" Joey bursts into giggles. "Would you just shut up and row?" she asks him. "I love it when you get forceful," Dawson teases, as she rolls her eyes and smiles at him, while the boat rows peacefully across the creek.
Andie, too, is enjoying some peace after the evening's events. Drifting in and out of sleep in her bed, she drowsily wakes up to Pacey, who has been keeping a bedside vigil. "Hey there," he says softly. "Pacey, I'm so sorry ..." Andie begins, but he silences her. "You know you're supposed to still be asleep," he gently chides her, not wanting to get into it all again.
"What's gonna happen to me?" she asks in a small whisper. "Well," Pacey sighs, "You'll go see some more doctors, get the right medications, and then you'll be fine, Andie." He looks at her lovingly.
"But what if I'm not?" Andie worries. Pacey smiles. "Sorry, that's just not in the cards." She softly begins to cry again, barely getting the words out. "I'm so scared, Pacey ..." "I know you are, Andie, he says softly, holding her close. "I am, too, okay?" "I don't want to lose you," she cries. "You're not going to lose me, not now, and not ever," he tells her in the same comforting tone he used earlier in the evening.
"I love you so much," she whispers through her tears and clinging to him for dear life. "I love you too," Pacey tells her tenderly. She kisses him gently then, and he continues to hold her tightly, looking sadly over her shoulder and wondering what will happen next.
Fade to black ...