"Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there"
-- William Shakespeare

Pacey examined the pool table intently, as he chalked the cue. He took the breaking shot, but didn't get any balls into the pockets. "I'm definitely off today," Pacey said.

"We all can't be on all the time," Dawson said, eyeing his shot.

"Ain't it the truth," Pacey mumbled, as he removed his jacket, and loosened his tie.

Dawson looked at him warily. "That gun makes me nervous," he said, pointing to the leather holster wrapped around Pacey's shoulders.

Pacey shrugged. "Not much I can do about that," he said, as he leaned over the table.

Dawson nodded. "I understand--occupational hazard."

"We can't all hang out with movie stars," Pacey joked.

"Sure," Dawson said, shaking his head. "Yesterday the two lead actresses and the lead actor called me 'Austin.' We had only been working together for ten months."

"So you finally wrapped?" Pacey asked.

"Yeah," Dawson said, sinking a ball in the side pocket. "Good thing, too. Marissa would've been absolutely livid if the movie pushed back the wedding."

Pacey laughed. "Not to destroy your delusions, Dawson, but they don't exactly need you to go on."

"I know that, Pacey," Dawson said. "Someday they will, though." Pacey sunk another ball as Dawson watched.

"How goes the wedding plans?" Pacey asked.

"Extravagant," Dawson said, his eyes widening at the thought. "Joey's coming in tomorrow night," he snuck in.

"Really?" Pacey asked. "You got her away from Paris, eh?"

"Yes," Dawson said. "She's been my best friend since forever. You think she'd miss my wedding?"

Pacey shook his head as he propped his elbow on the pool cue. "I just thought that she hadn't been in the states in a long time."

"She hasn't," Dawson said. "But she said she would come for the wedding."

"I'll be glad to see her again," Pacey said. "It's been years."

"Marissa wants us all to go out on Wednesday night," Dawson said. "Can you make it?"

"Us all who?" Pacey asked.

"Just the three of us and Joey."

"Sure, Dawson," Pacey said. "Leave me with a virtual stranger while you and Marissa go off the have a quickie in the handicapped stall of the bathroom."

"Joey's not a stranger," Dawson said.

"It's been at least five years since I've spoken to her," Pacey said. "A postcard every few months does not make a friendship."

Dawson sighed. "Are you upset with her?"

"No," Pacey said. "She did what she had to do. I respect that."

"So what? You don't want to go out?" Dawson asked.

Pacey rubbed his head as he looked up at Dawson. "No. It's just, I've never known how to act in front of Joey. She always ran sort of hot and cold with me."

"Well, this will be the perfect opportunity for you to reacquaint yourself with her." Pacey couldn't help but to notice Dawson's mischievous smile.

"What are you doing, Dawson?" he asked. "Because I've endured enough fix-ups at your and Marissa's hands. I think trying to fix me up with Joey would be too much."

Dawson rolled his eyes. "You expect too much from me Pacey," he said.

"Sure I do, Dawson," Pacey said knowingly. "You're working on some real-life Sleepless in Seattle or You've Got Mail, thinking if they won't actually let you direct the movies, you'll try to direct life. Well, I may be Tom Hanks-esque, and Joey may be spunky like Meg Ryan at some points, but we're not two predestined souls that you can manipulate."

"God, Pacey, do they teach you to be that cynical or is it innate?" Dawson laughed.

"Dawson, romance works for some people," Pacey said. "What you and Marissa have is beautiful. But it doesn't happen for people like me."

"That's ridiculous, Pacey," Dawson said. "Ever since Andie, you've--"

"Stop right there, Dawson," Pacey said, holding his hand up. "This has nothing to do with Andie."

"Fine," Dawson conceded. "It does have something to do with Joey, though." Pacey looked at Dawson expectantly. "I know that there are some residual feelings for Joey."

Pacey laughed. "I don't have feelings for Joey." Dawson crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. "I haven't spoken to her in five years!" Pacey said.

"A little defensive, aren't we?" Dawson said, unable to suppress his grin.

Pacey slumped down defeatedly. "I'm not being defensive."

"Okay," Dawson said. "Then you can go out with us all, right?"

"Of course," Pacey said. Then he realized he had done precisely what Dawson wanted all along. "You're sneaky, Leery."

Dawson laughed. "I'm not playing matchmaker. I don't want you to have a girlfriend in another country anyway."

"So where are we going?" Pacey asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Marissa wants to go dancing."

"That'll be funny," Pacey laughed. "I'm sure Joey will be all for it."

"Joey won't know 'till we get her there," Dawson said.

* * * * *

Pacey examined the piles of paperwork stacked around his desk. The piles were neat, but tall. He hated paperwork, and it showed. The phone rang as a welcome distraction when he'd opened his first file.

"Detective Witter," he answered.

"Pacey? It's Dawson."

"What's up, D?"

"I need a huge favor," he said, as he began to laugh nervously. "And you're going to laugh at this after the conversation we had last night."

"What Dawson?"

"Joey's flight comes in in like forty-five minutes," he said. "Marissa and I have had a huge setback with this wedding thing, and I can't make it."

"What wedding thing?" Pacey pressed.

"Marissa's going a little crazy over some flowers that might not come in on time, so now we have to drive up the coast to check on the order in person." Pacey didn't answer. "It's true!" Dawson added.

"Sure, Dawson," he sighed. "Look, give me the flight number, and I'll go get her."

Pacey scrawled down the information as Dawson rattled it off. "Thanks Pace," he said.

"Sure Dawson," he said, as he hung up the phone.

* * * * *

Pacey's eyes searched the people as they made their way of out the gate. He wasn't even sure if he'd recognize Joey when she came out. Suddenly, her head of brown hair appeared, and he instantly recognized her. He threw his arm up in the air and waved, but went unnoticed. "Joey!" he finally yelled.

Her eyes perked up, and her head snatched around until she finally saw him. "Pacey!" she yelled running for him. Her first instinct was to hug him, but she stopped short.

"You look great, Jo," he said.

"You too," she returned. "I completely missed you. I was looking for Dawson."

"Oh, he couldn't make it. Some sort of flower emergency or something."

"Well, everything is an emergency with Dawson," she joked.

They made their way through the airport with minor chatting. It was a loud place, so it was expected. The car was another story. "How was your flight?" he asked.

"Bumpy and long," she grumbled. "So, tell me all about this Marissa," she added, knowing that it would be easier to steer a conversation about something else.

"She's great," Pacey said. "She and Dawson are good together."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I don't know what to say," he said. "You'll get to meet her soon. I'm sure they'll both accost you when they see you tonight. She's nice. You'll like her."

"So how have you been?" she asked.

"Can't complain," he answered. "How do you like Paris?"

"It's home," she said with a smile.

"That's good," he said. "I hear you're taking lots of pictures."

"Yeah," she said. "It's a living."

"It's your passion, right? Good way to make a living."

"It's good," she said. "I'm always cynical after airplane food, I guess."

He laughed. "Good excuse."

The silence was desperately grinding on Joey's nerves. It was very uncomfortable: It shouldn't be, but it was. She had always prided herself on being one of those people who were content with the empty space, never saying anything above what needed to be said. Something seemed different this time.

"How come you never wrote me back?" she asked. Instantaneously she regretted letting the words escape her lips. The thoughts were only reinforced when she saw his forehead wrinkle.

He kept his eyes focused on the road. He knew that he had to answer, but he just didn't know the answer. "A little above normal airport pleasantries," he said.

"If you want to reduce this to pleasantries," she began, "that's fine. I was just curious."

"I didn't know what to say back," he answered. "They were just postcards."

Joey sighed, as she looked out the window. "I never wanted our friendship to be reduced to having Dawson as a go between."

"For the most part, that's all it ever was," he responded.

As much as she wanted to deny it, something about that statement rang true. Then she welcomed the silence, no matter how tense.

* * * * *

Joey finished the last of her drink, still waiting for Dawson and his fiancée to show up. She had prepared herself for just about anything, because a long time ago she'd learned that no matter how much she thought about how a person should be, they often turned out the opposite of how she had envisioned them.

She smiled when she saw Dawson. He was dressed casually in a pair of khaki pants, a white shirt, and some loafers. He had a wide grin on his face as he approached her.

Before she had time to stand, he had encircled her with his arms. "It's so good to see you, Jo," he whispered.

"You too," she said, as he pulled away.

"This is Marissa," he said, motioning to the girl at his side. "Marissa, this is Joey."

"It's so wonderful to finally meet you, Joey," Marissa said, as she enveloped Joey in a hug.

Nervously, Joey hugged her back. Somehow she knew that Dawson would go for a touchy feely one. Joey didn't waste anytime sizing Marissa up. She was a young, Hispanic woman with mocha skin, long hair, and eyes that sort of sparkled. Joey initially felt like she was one of the most genuine people she'd meant. She exuded a child-like enthusiasm that Joey was almost envious of.

"I'm so glad to finally put a face with all I've heard about you," Joey said.

"Not half as glad as I am," Marissa joked. They all gathered around the table. "So you live in Paris?" she asked.

"Yeah," Joey said. "I went to school there. It's great."

"I bet it's beautiful," Marissa said. Joey nodded, pushing her ice around the glass.

"So everything with Pacey was okay?" Dawson asked.

Joey laughed as she shook her head. "He doesn't have much to say nowadays, does he?"

"Pacey?" Marissa said. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Joey said, growing rather indignant.

Marissa's eyelids fell. "I'm sorry," she said. "Leave it to me to make a bad first impression. I apologize. Look, why don't I give you two a chance to catch up first?" she offered, standing up.

"You don't have to--" Joey began.

"It's okay. I just need to powder my nose," Marissa said, before she began to walk away.

"I'm sorry, Dawson," Joey said. "I didn't want to alienate your fiancee in five sentences."

"You didn't do that," he said. "Tell me, how was your flight?"

"Long," she said. "Some five-year-old kicked the back of my seat for half the trip. I wanted to throttle him."

"How'd that shoot go?"

Joey groaned. "As exciting as watching a man try to sell Jumbalya in hell," she mumbled. "You know how models are--too skinny, too whiny, too pretty, too dumb, too annoying." He smiled, absolutely thrilled to hear her complaining in person. "After that, I was more than happy to have this little reprieve."

"Good," he said. "How do you like Marissa?"

"She seems really nice," Joey said. "I just . . . just want to make sure she's good enough for you."

"She is--too good for me," he replied, smiling.

"I hope that I'll find someone that loves me that much someday."

"I'm sure you will," he said. She quietly looked back at him. "Sorry about the airport," he added. "I'm glad Pacey could pinch-hit for me."

"It was good to see him," she said. "He just didn't have much to say. He just wasn't as warm as I would want him to be."

Dawson raised his eyebrow. "What's that mean exactly?"

Joey looked confused. "What does what mean?"

Dawson furrowed his brow, carelessly running his hand through his hair. "Pacey is . . . I would like . . ."

"Speechless?" Joey laughed. "What's going on, Dawson?"

Dawson smiled widely. "Nothing," he said. "I am just seriously feeling the urge to reconnect my two oldest friends."

"Believe it or not, I'd like that too," she said. "Pacey seems to have done a lot of growing."

"He has," Dawson said. "And I just think it would be a shame for you two to continue on this insane non-speaking basis. It's not like one of you did something to the other. You just lost touch. That's fixable."

"You're right, Dawson. Just don't force it. I'm not sure that's what Pacey wants."

"Just because he doesn't say it, it doesn't mean that he doesn't want it," Dawson said. "Besides, I know what's best for you both."

"Sure," she said, rolling her eyes.

Marissa carefully approached. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure," Dawson said, kissing her cheek as she sat back down.

"Marissa, I'm sorry about snapping at you. Today's just been . . . odd," Joey said.

"You didn't snap at me," Marissa said, allowing Joey to know that it was already forgotten.

"So, Marissa's made plans for the four of us to go out tomorrow night," Dawson chimed in. "Pacey too."

Joey nodded. "It sounds like fun," she said.

* * * * *

The ride to the club that night had been relatively silent, aside from Dawson rambling about anything that had to do with the wedding, and even Marissa only half-listening.

Joey examined Pacey, as he watched out the window. She'd get a decent look at him when they sped under the street lights. She was amazed by how strong he looked, how the years hadn't changed his face.

"Where are we?" she asked, as the car pulled to a stop.

"It's a club," Dawson said. "For salsa dancing," he snuck in.

"What?" Joey snapped.

"Come on, Jo," Dawson said. "We can have a good time. Maybe a few drinks'll loosen you up." With that, he got out of the car.

"You knew we were coming here, didn't you, Pacey?" she asked. "You knew we were coming here and you didn't tell me!"

He laughed. "And ruin the shock value?"

She rolled her eyes with a huff before getting out of the car. Pacey silently stuck by her side as they entered the club. It wasn't very busy, and Dawson and Marissa had already settled at a small table near the dance floor.

"Come on, Jo," Pacey said. "Let me buy you a drink."

She nodded as she stuck by his side, heading for the bar. "Rum and Coke," she told the bartender.

Pacey smiled at her, and he seemed to be somewhat more himself that she had seen yesterday. "Bourbon," he said, after Joey got her drink.

"You could've at least told me," she mumbled. "I'll be the only fool who views the dance floor as the plague."

"It's not as hard as it looks," he said.

"And I'm so sure you do it," she said sarcastically.

"You mean to tell me that Dawson never told you the story of how he and Marissa met?"

"No," she said. "He just said something about meeting her on the set of a movie."

"Yeah, well, she's a choreographer. Dawson met her at this rehearsal they were having, and went completely ga-ga over her. The next thing I know, I was taking salsa lessons two nights a week with Dawson. It was at least seven weeks before he even thought about asking her out, and at that point, she beat him to the punch. It was all rather amusing."

Joey laughed. "So Dawson dragged you to salsa class and you didn't kick and scream?"

"Ah," he smiled, "there were some cute girls there." He laughed as she nudged him on the arm. "I picked up a few moves going to class," he added. "Just wasn't lucky enough to find a wife there, I guess."

She stared back at him, not sure what to say. His face looked stressed, as did his eyes. "I'm sorry about yesterday," she said, wanting, once again, to fill the silence. "I just wasn't sure what to say."

"Me either," he said. "It's just been a long time, and I . . . I didn't know what to say."

"Well, I think we should just be normal," she said. "Don't worry about stepping on my toes--just say what you feel."

"Sure," he said, taking a swig of his drink.

"I'd like us to be friends again before I go back to Paris," she said. "Without a go-between."

"I think I'd like that too," he said.

"Detective Witter, I do believe that you owe me a dance," Marissa said, as she walked up by Pacey.

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Marissa," he said, before doing an exaggerated curtsey.

Dawson slid on the stool next to Joey. He sniffed Pacey's drink, and seriously contorted his face. "I don't know how he drinks this stuff."

Joey laughed, her eyes never leaving Pacey and Marissa on the dance floor. "He's pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah," Dawson said. "He was the best one in our class."

"He just told me about your pursuit--or lack there of--of Marissa." She laughed at Dawson's expression.

"I don't come off very well in that story," he said. "In fact, I imagine that I look pretty pathetic."

"Not pathetic," she said. "It sounds sweet."

"So you and Pacey have a good talk? You looked like you were having fun."

"Yeah," she said. "He seems to be more of the Pacey I know."

"See, it just took him a while to come around," Dawson said. "You definitely have to dance with him tonight."

"I don't think so," Joey said sternly. "I don't dance."

"That's what he used to say too," Dawson laughed. "Pacey's still looking for the perfect partner."

Joey looked at Dawson out of the corner of her eye. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Dawson said, clamming up quickly. "Gee, Ms. World Famous Photographer, I should've got you to bring your camera. This would make a great picture."

"Maybe if you had told me where we were going," Joey said. "I can't believe you brought me salsa dancing."

"Joey, if you just let yourself go, you'll have fun. Don't worry about what other people will think, or who ever's toes you step on. Just get lost in the music and the rhythm and the movement, and let everything go. It's a liberation."

"That sounds like the biggest bunch of crap I've ever heard, Dawson," she said.

"Come on," he said, dragging her to the dance floor by the arm. She protested every inch of the way. Dawson threw an arm around her waist, and grabbed her hand with the other. "Just move," he said.

People were already staring, so Joey decided to give in. She began to carefully move her feet, looking at Dawson for guidance. It wasn't long before she stopped stepping on his toes.

Pacey and Marissa stood at their side, as the song changed. "Pacey, dance with this lady so I can have my fiancé back," Marissa said, as she grabbed Dawson by the hand, and led him deeper into the crowd.

Pacey settled a hand on Joey's hip. "I think the lady doth protest too much," he said, grinning.

"He dragged me out here," she said. "And I seriously doubt I can keep up with you, twinkle toes."

He started them moving across the floor, and Joey was having what could easily be considered the best time she'd had in years. "Is that a smile me put on your face, chile?" Pacey asked in a thick Jamaican accent.

"Don't take all the credit, Witter," she said. She couldn't help but to smile, though.

"See, you're not bad at this," he offered.

She looked down at her feet. "I guess I'm not," she smiled.

"Well, Miss Potter, I suggest you dance more and smile more. I like you this way."

"Why, Mr. Witter, I don't think I could've received a better compliment," she said, her face still glowing with a smile.

Joey's heart started racing when the music slowed. It was a physical reaction that her emotions hadn't quite caught up to it yet.

"Feel like one more?" he asked. She nodded as her pulled her closer. "It'll give you a chance to catch your breath," he added.

"So, I, um, I find it really strange that you've joined the police department," she said.

He smiled. "I still like to shock people." She looked back at him seriously, making him feel he had to explain. "It was a good thing," he continued.

"I guess that I just thought . . . your dad . . . damn, I just put my foot in my mouth, as per usual."

"Trust me, Jo, no one was more surprised than me. I tried to fight it, but I realized it was what I wanted to do," he told her. "My dad just doesn't know. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction."

"Pacey, if you're happy . . . well, that's all that matters."

"Thanks," he said. He brought her hand up to rest on his chest. She could feel his heart beating, and was jealous that it wasn't racing like hers. For her, it was a bold move to settle her head near the crook of his neck.

"It's been a long time since I danced," she said. "It feels . . . nice."

"It does," he whispered. "I thought that this might be very uncomfortable."

"Me too," she said. "It's not, though."

"Dawson set us up for this one," he said.

"I figured," she said. "He said something last night about wanting to reconnect his two oldest friends."

"And are we reconnected?" he asked.

"I think we're getting there," she smiled.

* * * * *

"Absence extinguishes small passions and increases great ones, as the wind blows out a candle, and blows in a fire."
--Duc de La Rochefoucauld

Pacey groaned when his telephone rang. He felt along the bedside, looking for the phone. "Hello," he snapped, still not willing to open his eyes to let the sun in.

"Pacey?"

"What Dawson?" he growled.

"Not very chipper this morning, are we?" Dawson laughed.

Pacey sighed and decided to open his eyes. He knew that Dawson would be determined to get him out of bed now. "After I got home last night, I got called out to a crack house," Pacey said. "I didn't get home and in bed until after seven."

"I'm sorry," Dawson apologized.

"Well, you did wake me up," Pacey said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "The least you can do is tell me what you want."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Dawson asked.

"Tell me what it is first," he said.

"You haven't been fitted for your tux yet, right?"

"Nah," Pacey said. "I was going to go soon."

"Well, Joey needs to go get fitted for her dress too," Dawson said. "I thought maybe you could both go together this afternoon."

"Sure, Dawson," Pacey mumbled. "Tell her that I'll pick her up at eleven."

* * * * *

Pacey knocked on Joey's door. "Police, open up."

"Sorry, officer, I need identification before I can let you in," she said, cracking the door open. "Do you have a warrant?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, pushing his way through the door. "From Mr. Dawson Leery, requesting that I accompany you to try on a very frilly dress that you will never wear again after Saturday night."

She laughed. "He probably sent you because he thought I'd have a convenient memory and forget to go."

"Me too," Pacey admitted. "I'm going to feel like I'm on show."

"Since when does that bother you?" she teased.

"Since one of the most beautiful photographers in the world will be just a few feet away," he said.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were complimenting me," she said, picking up some jewelry from the dresser.

"Maybe I am," he said. "We'd better get going."

She nodded, and followed him out the door. "So we're not taking a cop car?" she asked. "I thought you might steal one for old times sake."

"People really do change a lot, don't they?" he laughed.

"I'm not taking you away from work am I?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I was up until late this morning at a crime scene anyway." He glanced at her a smiled. "But parking at the mall is a bitch. We could've done better with a marked car."

"Maybe things don't change as much as I originally thought," she said, smiling.

* * * * *

Joey carefully stepped out of the fitting room, making sure that no one would see her. She looked at herself in the triple mirror and groaned. She was definitely not feeling this dress. It was a pale shade of purple, long, and mostly plain.

"Pacey," she whined. "Come tell me that I look ridiculous in this dress, so I can drop out of being in this wedding."

Pacey stepped out of his fitting room and looked at Joey. He was holding the tuxedo jacket in his hand. "You look nice," he said. "No way you're getting out of this one."

"Nice?" she asked. "In this horrible shade of purple? I look like a Muppet!"

"Yes, nice," he said, standing next to her. "I can see you with your hair up and matching heels. Completely upstaging Marissa."

Joey rolled her eyes. "You are full of it."

"You look beautiful," he said sincerely. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," she said.

He pulled the jacket on and looked in the mirror as he remained next to Joey. "Now you tell me," he said. "Does this make me look fat?"

Joey playfully jabbed him in the side before they were interrupted by the woman who had been helping them. "Everything fit okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Pacey said.

"You two make a very handsome couple," she said.

Joey looked at herself and Pacey in the mirror. "Thanks," she mumbled, not moving.

"If you need anything else, just let me know," the woman said, walking away.

"We do," Joey said.

He looked back at her confused. "We do what?"

"We make a cute couple," she said. "I look like the terribly sensible, nagging girlfriend. You look like the boyfriend who is too laid back for his own good."

Pacey laughed. "Don't put so much thought into this, Joey."

"I'm getting back into human clothes," she said, walking back into the fitting room.

Pacey admired himself in the mirror once more before retreating to his own room. He thought seriously about her words, as he put his clothes back on. He wasn't sure what to think about it, but he had to admit she was right.

"Let's go get some lunch, Miss Potter," Pacey said, meeting her as she opened the door.

"Good idea," she said, following behind him.

* * * * *

Joey picked at the French Fries on her tray as she waited for Pacey to sit back down. He was getting pizza, while she had a chicken sandwich.

Things were starting to cause her to see Pacey in a whole new light. He was attractive, witty, and what she had been looking for all over Paris. It was just awkward after they had been estranged for so long.

"That line," Pacey mumbled as he sat across from Joey. "Bread lines in Russia are shorter."

"Still impatient as ever, I see," Joey said.

He smiled as he took a sip of his soda. "So, what are you doing tonight?"

Joey opened her mouth to speak, but shut it immediately. She wasn't sure if he was asking her out or not, and that had a huge impact on how she answered. At least, she thought it did. "Dawson and I were going to the movies," she finally said. "You know, old times."

Pacey smiled. "You'll have fun, I'm sure."

"You should come," Joey said.

"I'm working tonight," he said. "Staking out a crack house. Fun, fun, fun."

"You really stake places out?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "And it's not nearly as exciting as it looks in the movies."

"You'll be careful, right?"

"Sure," he said. "There's nothing to worry about. I was promoted to detective a few months ago, and it's not nearly as dangerous."

"Detective?" she asked. "That's pretty impressive."

"Thanks," he said. "It may sound strange, but I'm good at my job."

"It doesn't sound strange," she said. "In fact, I've always known that you'd be great at anything you put your heart into."

"You never told me that," he said.

"You had a big enough ego, and didn't need me stroking it," she said.

He took another bite from his slice of pizza. "So, we've got big fun at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night," he said.

"Loads of fun, I'm sure." she dryly. "I am sort of excited to see Mr. and Mrs. Leery again."

Pacey nodded. "They'll be happy to see you too," he said. "They're both very proud of you. Just say that they don't see you enough."

She laughed. "Everyone says that. Things were just . . . I don't know. Paris felt good. It felt right."

"It's hard to find a place to belong," he said.

"Yeah," she responded. "It's been good to me."

"Don't you miss home, though?" he asked.

"Yeah," Joey said. "I missed stuff with Alex, and I missed Bessie. Dawson and I sent e-mail everyday, but that wasn't the same. And you . . . you acted like you never wanted to speak to me again. I don't know, I just sort of always thought that I'd hurt your feelings by going to Paris."

"You didn't do that. It just shocked me a little, I think. You were very insecure when we were younger, I just couldn't see you going to live in a foreign country. But you surprised me--especially when you never came back."

"I made my own little world in Paris," she said. "I got so comfortable I didn't want to leave it. Sort of a safe-haven."

"That makes sense," Pacey said. "I'm glad you came back for a little while, though."

"Me too," Joey said. "I can't believe all the little things I miss that I'd completely forgotten about."

"It's sort of weird," Pacey said. "You know, Dawson getting married and all."

"It is," Joey said. "We should've known, though. After all, he is the romantic."

"Yeah," Pacey said. "He was really real about it, though. He and Marissa were together a long time. He made sure that this marriage would last."

Joey nodded. "Good, because the last thing we need is adding Dawson to the jaded, bitter, cynical part of the world."

"Are you and I jaded, bitter, and cynical?" he asked.

"Maybe just a little," she said. "The world would be rather boring if it were filled with romanticizing optimists like Dawson."

"So you don't find this whole wedding thing romantic?" he asked.

"Frilly dresses, expensive food, bad music. It's not romantic, it just costs a lot."

"What about a man and a woman standing up and shouting how much they love each other to the world?" he asked. "Eating your first meal together as husband and wife. Dancing your first dance together."

"I think that Dawson's romanticism has rubbed off on you," Joey said. "But you could be right this time."

He smiled at her. "There are things I could be that are a lot worse."

"You might have to take me under your wing at the wedding--you know, rid me of my negative thoughts," she said.

"You think I can do that?" he asked.

"Who better to teach me about romance than a romantic?"

* * * * *

Dawson examined Joey as they stood in line at the movie theater. "So, how much did you hate the dress?" he asked.

"I hated it at first," Joey said. "But it's starting to grow on me a little."

"The day was a success?" Dawson asked.

"Yeah, I had a great time with Pacey," she said.

"What did you guys do?" he asked.

"We went to try on the clothes, and we went for lunch. We had a great talk," she said. "He's lots of fun to be around."

"That's good," Dawson smiled.

"Yeah, it's a good thing you can bully him into entertaining me while you run around doing this wedding stuff," Joey said sarcastically. "Just think, forty-eight hours from now, you're going to be a married man." Joey saw Dawson's face pale, and her look grew serious. "What?" she asked.

"I'm just . . . a little, teeny tiny bit . . . scared," Dawson reluctantly admitted.

"I thought you loved her?" Joey asked.

"I do," Dawson said. "But marriage--for me, it's permanent."

"Has she ever given you the notion that it's not going to last?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I just . . . things were weird this morning when we were signing the pre-nuptial agreement."

"You signed a pre-nup?" Joey asked.

He nodded. "Marissa's folks are loaded," he explained before returning to his previous statement. "I just sort of thought that signing it just may have set us up to fail."

"I don't believe that, Dawson," she said. "I mean, you signing it shows how much you love each other. And if there was no trust, I don't think she could've even asked you to sign it." She smiled at Dawson genuinely. "Besides, as soon as those Hollywood hot shots give you a chance, you're going to be directing real money makers."

Dawson smiled. "You know, I've really missed you talking me down in person."

"I'm really happy to be here, Dawson," Joey said simply, as she followed him inside the theater.

* * * * *

Joey examined herself carefully in the mirror. She'd gone for simple after seeing the dress she'd have to wear in the wedding tomorrow. Her hair was in a elegant French roll, and she wore a long black dress.

Most of all, she dreaded going to this dinner and this rehearsal. Right now she was just not in the mood to be around lots of people, especially people she didn't know.

There was a knock on her door and she answered it. She did her best to whistle, but it just was not working. Pacey strode into the room, doing a model-like spin. He was decked out in a grey three-piece suit and looked gorgeous. "You look great," she settled on.

"And you do as well, my dear," he said.

"So, were you just in the neighborhood?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"I came to escort you to the rehearsal," he said. "Because I'll bet anything before I got here you were thinking of backing out."

"No," she lied. "I was just planning on being fashionably late."

He grinned. "What do you say? Can I gracefully enhance my image by walking into that church with a beautiful woman on my arm?"

"I'd be delighted," she smiled.

* * * * *

Joey stopped outside the church, majorly intimidated by its size. "How many people are going to be at this wedding?" she asked.

"A few hundred," Pacey said. "It's going to be huge."

"Just what I needed," Joey groaned.

"Come on, princess," he said. "Let's go."

Joey took a deep breath and linked her arm in Pacey's.

Inside, everything was very chaotic. There were people running in every direction, lots of chatter, and just general craziness.

Dawson's eyes fell on Joey and Pacey when they entered, and he grew rather proud of himself. He was hoping that they would come together, but he didn't want to push the envelope. Marissa was arguing with one of her sisters when he jabbed her in the side with his elbow.

"What?" she asked, turning to Dawson. He pointed at Joey and Pacey, as a wide grin took over his face. Marissa smiled too. "Your plan must be working."

He laughed. "I'm not sure that I've had that much to do with it."

"They look cute together," Marissa said, pausing only momentarily before turning her attention back to her sister.

After waiving briefly at Dawson, Pacey and Joey headed toward Mitch and Gale. Pacey stood by Joey quietly as she was forced to recount most of her adult life, and he loved every minute of it.

The rehearsal, though, seemed to go on forever. Pacey never had a high opinion of organization and order. He had been up all night, spent all day on paperwork, and had only had a bag of Fun'yuns to eat all day. His stomach was growling, and he was sure the priest would hear in the next moment of quiet if they didn't get out of there soon.

Finally, after running the wedding through seven times, they all headed to the restaurant.

Pacey and Joey sat together at a small table. For a rehearsal dinner, this struck Joey as rather extravagant. They had rented the banquet room at a rather upscale restaurant, and there was a string quartet in the corner. "So, I take it tradition is out the window, and Mr. and Mrs. Leery didn't pay for this," she said.

Pacey laughed. "I think they're paying part of it. You know how it is when your son's marrying money."

"I thought that rehearsal would never be over," Joey said.

"Me too," Pacey said. "I'm starving."

"I thought I heard your stomach growl!" Joey giggled.

Pacey shook his head reluctantly. "Been a long day."

"So, your stakeout must've been pretty tough," she said. "I was half expecting you to be shot or something and not make it here."

He looked back at her seriously. "Does my job scare you that much?"

"It doesn't scare me, Pacey," she said. "I don't know. I was just thinking aloud."

"I know it seems like a high-risk occupation," he began, "but I'm never afraid."

"You never have been afraid of much," she said.

Pacey barely waited for the server to put his plate down when he began to eat. Joey laughed at him for a bit before starting at her own meal.

He sat observing the room for a while as Joey finished eating. He smiled at Dawson and Marissa who, despite the chaos, had found a few moments together, as they ate at a small table. "What?" Joey said, looking up.

"It's just sweet," Pacey said, pointing to them.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" Joey asked.

"Of Dawson?" he said. "No. I'm happy for him."

"Yeah, but I see some sort of sparkle in your eyes when you see them. It wouldn't surprise me if you weren't ready to jump the broom yourself," she speculated.

"No," he said. "Dawson is just lucky enough to have already found the right person."

"You haven't found the right person?" she asked.

"No," he said, furrowing his brow. "Have you?"

"Not even close," she sighed. "I don't think I'm as ready to settle down as you are."

He nodded. "Being ready and actually doing it are very different. I am like Dawson in that when I do it, it's going to be forever."

"Why haven't you found someone?" she asked, knowing she was probably plunging deeper into his psyche than he would want her to.

"I'm not sure," he said. "I think my standards are high."

"So high you'll never find anyone?"

"I didn't really understand what I wanted in a relationship until Andie broke up with me senior year in high school, and I was sort of wounded after that experience. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I was miserable. It just made me take a step back and really think about love and what it should be."

"And what did you decide?" she asked.

"I decided that I didn't want a person who thought I had the potential to be perfect. I want a person who loves me because they already think I am perfect," he said.

The corner of Joey's mouth curled into a small smile. "That was beautiful," she said. "And I don't think you should settle for anything less."

"Miss Potter, if I didn't know better, I'd say that was a compliment," he joked.

"Maybe it was," she threw back. She watched him as he played with a dinner roll. There was sort of an odd silence between the two of them, which made Joey more attentive of the chatter and the movement around the room.

"You know, we could try that dancing thing again. You were pretty good at it the other night," he offered.

"What about you, Pace? Can you hold your own when you're not salsa dancing?" she joked.

"We'll have to see," he said, standing and extending his hand to her.

She followed him to the middle of the room where there were only two other couples dancing; Dawson's parents, and one of Marissa's sisters and her husband.

There was something about Pacey that she found inherently sexy; the swagger he had when he walked, the way he said her name, the way he'd moved their intertwined hands to rest on his chest near his heart as they began to dance. She especially loved the way his eyes would sparkle when he talked about love.

Deep down, she wanted her eyes to sparkle like that when he talked about her. It was a foreign feeling, but a compelling one. After all the time searching, she thought that she had finally found herself falling in love.

"I guess you're still not feeling this wedding thing," he said softly.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Actually, I think I am. I really like seeing things through your eyes." She settled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, not wanting to leave.

* * * * *

"Thanks for walking me back," Joey said, as they stood outside the hotel room.

"You're welcome," he smiled. "You made tonight much more bearable."

"You too," she said. "I guess you're going to be rather busy tomorrow."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sure that Dawson will be a mess tomorrow. He might need tranquilizers."

Joey laughed. "I'd be worried if he weren't just a little bit scared."

Pacey nodded, staring back at Joey for a moment. He gently brushed some hair from her face. "I've really had a good time with you the past few days."

"Me too," she said. "You're making me believe again."

"Believe in what?"

"Believe in love. You may have began to turn this jaded, bitter, cynical woman into someone who wants to believe in romance."

He smiled. "I assume that means I've got more work at the wedding tomorrow?"

"Yes," she said. "Look for me at the reception. We're going to dance again."

"I thought you hated dancing."

"Not when I dance with you," she said.

"That may be the best compliment that I've ever gotten," he said, smiling warmly. "I'd better get going."

"Yeah," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Jo," he said, slowly stepping backward before heading to the stairs.

* * * * *

"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."
-- Marcus Aurelius

"I can't believe this!" Dawson shouted. "Of all the things, I've lost the stupid tie!" He began pacing around the room, turning things over looking for the tie.

Pacey stopped him, standing in front of him, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Dawson, you don't have a tie," he said soothingly. "The vest, it comes up to your neck. No tie."

Dawson slumped down defeatedly. "I'm so stressed out," he sighed.

"What's the matter, Dawson?" Pacey asked.

"I'm getting married in a hour!" Dawson exclaimed. "This is a life-altering event, and I'm not sure that I'm ready to handle all that it brings with it."

"Dawson, this anxiety is completely unfounded. You're in love, and you are going to be happily married. You're just getting like this because you're nervous. That's natural before you get married."

"Pacey, it's nice that you have faith, but I'm . . . I'm not sure that I do."

Pacey sat down across from Dawson, and looked him in the eyes. "Last night I was watching you," Pacey said. "Despite everything--and I do mean everything--that was going on, I saw you and Marissa take a break from it all to be alone. If you can find brief fleeting moments like that during times like these, you're going to find them forever."

"Is that good enough?" Dawson asked.

"Yes," Pacey said. "You've loved that girl since the first time you laid eyes on her, and I will not be a happy camper if you back out now. After the salsa lessons and the double dates--you owe me. You owe me the right to see my best friend happy. And don't make a mistake now. Dawson, you deserve to be happy."

Dawson smiled. "Thanks, Pacey," he said.

"Are we calm again?" Pacey asked in a patronizing tone.

"Yes," Dawson said, exhaling a long-held breath.

"Good, because I was considering sedation next," Pacey smiled.

"Can I come in?" they heard from the other side of the door after a knock.

"Come on in, Jo," Pacey said. He couldn't keep the smile from taking over his face. "You look breathtaking," he said. "I told you that you didn't have anything to worry about."

"I should probably start listening to you more often," Joey said.

"Hey, D, I am . . . I'm going to go check on things inside the church, okay? While Joey's here to watch you," Pacey said.

"Pacey, I'm not four years old. Go ahead, I'm fine," Dawson said.

"So how are you doing?" Joey asked, as she sat next to Dawson.

"Better," Dawson said. "Pacey just talked me down."

Joey smiled. "So everything will be going according to plan?"

"Yes, I'm still going to do it, if that's what you mean."

"Good," Joey said. "I'd hate for this to be a wasted trip."

"Can we please not talk about the W-E-D-D-I-N-G for a few minutes," he said. "I'll absolutely lose my mind."

"Is there something else you want to talk about?" she asked.

"You and Pacey were looking awfully cozy last night."

"It's your wedding day, and you want to talk about me and Pacey dancing last night?"

Dawson smiled widely at her. "I saw it in your eyes," he declared proudly.

"Saw what?"

"You're falling for Pacey," he said.

"Dawson, you're--"

"Josephine Potter, don't you lie to me," he demanded. Joey promptly shut her mouth and furrowed her brow, feeling seven years old after being scolded.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

"Say what you feel," Dawson said, more gently this time.

"I feel . . . I feel like I've gone outside just after the rain had stopped. I feel like if I look into his eyes, I should be able to see the future so clearly. I feel like we're the only two people in the room when he's with me. I feel giddy when I know he's coming. I feel like I'm falling in love, Dawson," she said.

She saw the pleasure on his face, but continued to talk. "And it scares me."

"Why does it scare you?" he asked.

"Thousands of reasons," she said, as she stood and began to pace the room. "We've seen each other a grand total of five days over the past five years, and we've both changed so much. And he lives here and I live in Paris. And I'm just . . . I'm just not sure . . ."

Dawson smiled warmly and gently took Joey's hand. "Five minutes ago I was ready to back out of this wedding," he began. "Pacey made me see something really clearly, though. No matter how scared you might be, you cannot let what you want slip away from you. Scared can be forever, but he may not be there tomorrow."

"Dawson, I may not be here tomorrow," Joey said. "I don't want to let myself fall in love, and then realize that it could all fall apart because of our jobs. I couldn't handle that."

"I thought you've been looking for a job here these past few days?" he asked.

"I have, Dawson, but I haven't heard anything yet. Besides, my job in Paris is stable and secure."

"So you'd give up Pacey for your job?" he asked.

"I have my job, Dawson. I don't have Pacey," she said.

"Well, I've got to hand it to you. You are being realistic," Dawson said. "I'm just not sure that you're being you."

"Dawson, I--"

"Let's be practical about this, Jo. You and Pacey have the spark that could lead to the fire. I just cannot seem to understand how you would risk losing that because of fear. And it's not fear that has to do with your job, you're afraid to let yourself love."

"Dawson, we've known each other for a long time and we've been through a lot together. And I'm so happy to be here with you when you're about to get married. The last thing you should be stressing about right now is me and what may or may not be with Pacey."

"What will be with Pacey," he said, grinning widely. "Don't try to talk me out of it. I still believe in miracles."

"Fine, Dawson," she said, standing up. "Look, I'd better get back to all the female gushing and bonding."

"Okay, but promise me one thing."

"Sure."

"Don't talk about this, don't even think about it until after the reception," he said.

"I promise," she said. "Good luck."

As she left the room, she saw Pacey sitting on the floor next to the door. She stood on the other side of the hall, resting on her hands and staring down at him.

"Cold feet?" she asked, smirking.

He laughed. "I wanted you and Dawson to be alone."

"Thanks," she said. There was an awkward silence in the hall. "So . . ." she began.

He stood up and smiled at her. "Save a dance for me at the reception?"

"As many as you want," she smiled. "I'll see you at the altar."

* * * * *

Joey nervously adjusted her dress in the church foyer. She was the first bridesmaid to walk down the aisle, and she had to be with the world's shortest groomsman. She was not thrilled when the double doors opened, and every single person in the church turned to watch her when the string quartet began to play.

She stepped forward tentatively, and looked up to see Dawson's smiling face. Her eyes, though, fixed on Pacey, and if it weren't cliché, she would've sworn that she floated the rest of the way.

Pacey watched her from the corner of his eyes through the ceremony. He knew that Joey had been right the other day when she said he sounded like he was ready to settle down. He had been ready to settle down for a while now, but it wasn't until now that he had even thought he'd found the right person.

It seemed like no time had passed at all for the both of them when Dawson and Marissa were presented to the church as husband and wife. Joey needed to talk to Pacey, but between battling the crowds and posing for pictures, she really didn't have the opportunity to. She decided it would be best to wait until the reception.

* * * * *

Joey looked down at the Chicken Elizabeth on her plate, and she wasn't hungry at all. Her stomach seemed to churn and flip with every sniff of it. By the luck of the draw she had been seated next to Pacey, but he was thoroughly enjoying his dinner.

"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked, snapping her from her thoughts.

"I don't know, Pace," she said. "I'm not really hungry."

"You want to have that dance now?" he asked.

She nodded, grabbing his hand as he led her to the middle of the floor. Most people were done eating, and several were now dancing. She was happy the song was slow, because she was in no mood to even attempt to actually dance in the dress she was wearing.

He was holding her close, and she had to admit it was making her nervous. Suddenly she forgot what she had to say.

"Nice wedding, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Everything was really beautiful."

The corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. "So I'm assuming I've been successful in making you believe in romance."

"You've been successful in making me believe weddings can be romantic."

"And explain the difference."

"Romance is less strict and socially controlled. It's spontaneous, and it takes place between two people in the simplest of situations," she said.

"So this big wedding isn't romance? What is?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. A kiss in the rain. A carriage ride through the park. Anything that can make your heart skip a beat, and no matter how crazy you may feel, there's nowhere else you'd rather be."

"You've thought about this."

"I guess I have."

"So is there anything I could do romantic that would surprise you and still suit your standards?" he asked.

She felt her heart skip a beat at the very question. "There are lots of things you could do. I'm not hard to please."

"Well, maybe--" he began, only to be cut off when Mitch and Gale danced up beside them.

"Would you mind if I cut in?" Gale asked Joey. "I don't see enough of this young man."

"Sure," Joey said, looking intently in Pacey's eyes. "We'll have plenty of time to dance."

Joey tried to keep one eye on Pacey as she created small talk with Mitch. By the time the dance was through, she'd lost him.

* * * * *

Joey had looked all over the reception for Pacey, but was unable to find him. Finally, she headed outside, and began to walk one of the garden paths at the country club.

She pulled her heels off and held them in her right hand by their straps. She walked slowly, looking at the flowers the best she could in the dark.

"Hey beautiful."

She turned around, and saw Pacey leaned over the railing of a small gazebo. "Hey," she smiled. "I was looking for you."

"And you found me," he said. He walked down the stairs to stand beside her. "I believe we have a dance to finish."

She smiled as he pulled her close, and they began to dance to the faint music coming from inside. She rested her head on his chest before speaking. "You know, Pacey, I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I didn't hear anything at the wedding. Once I began walking down the aisle, I started thinking about what my own wedding might be like. And while I've done it a thousand times over, this time it was different." She stopped, not sure if she should've gone this far.

"Tell me how it was different."

"This time I saw the groom," she said, looking up at him. "It was you."

He didn't respond to that. "I'm not saying I want to marry you," she continued. "I just . . . I want a chance to know . . . if the flip flops I'm feeling in my stomach right now are because I could be falling in love."

"I want that too," he said. "I've been wanting to kiss you since that night in the salsa club."

"You have?" she asked. "Why didn't you?"

"I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it . . . about me," he whispered. "And I've really, really wanted to create that romantic moment for you."

"It's just the two of us," she whispered. "We're alone, dancing to soft music in a beautiful rose garden under the stars. It's the perfect romantic moment."

"But now that we've talked about it, it's not spontaneous," he smiled.

"But now I'm anticipating it so much that doesn't matter."

"But what if I can't live up to everything you've been anticipating?"

"Pacey, I will kill you if you don't kiss me," she said.

He bent his head, and placed a gentle hand on her cheek.

"Joey! Pacey! I've been looking all over for you two!" screamed Dawson as he darted down the path.

"Damn," Pacey said under his breath. "We'll have to find another romantic moment."

"Guess so," she whispered.

"What's up, D?" Pacey asked, pulling away from Joey.

"Well, we're getting ready to do the cake thing," Dawson said. "And after that things will go pretty fast, and I wanted to give you guys your gift."

"Dawson you didn't have to do that," Joey said.

"Yes, I did," he answered. "You two are my oldest and best friends, and I wanted to give you something special." He smiled sincerely at the both of them. "The one thing I know you both need is a vacation, so Marissa and I wanted to thank you for being in our wedding party with one. You leave tomorrow for Catalina. Her parents have a huge vacation house there and you can stay for the week."

"Dawson, that's so wonderful," Joey said, throwing her arms around him.

"D, that's pretty extravagant," Pacey said.

"No problem. My wife's loaded," Dawson said, as he winked.

Pacey laughed. "We both know this is a set-up, Dawson."

"Would I set you up?" he asked, feigning innocence. Joey and Pacey smiled, as he led them back inside.

* * * * *

After Marissa smeared Dawson's face with wedding cake, Pacey and Joey had another dance--one long dance lasting over several songs. They said little to each other, as if it would disturb the magic.

As it came time for the toast, Pacey stood proudly and smiled at the crowd. "I have been very lucky to have Dawson Leery as a friend for most of my life. Dawson was always the imaginative, optimistic beacon in everything I've done throughout my childhood and adulthood. Without him, I wouldn't know how to hope, or wish, or see the beauty in the simplest things. And just when I thought he couldn't get anymore . . . inspiring, he fell in love. And just when I thought I couldn't get anymore pessimistic, he and Marissa made me believe in love and romance. I don't think I could've witnessed anything more beautiful, and I am thankful that I was there to see it all."

Pacey paused, and smiled as he lifted his glass toward Dawson and Marissa. "I wish you both the best of luck in what I know will be a wonderful marriage. I know that the love and the happiness will flow out into everything you do."

Joey blinked back tears as the room toasted Dawson and Marissa. She realized that Pacey probably didn't even understand how beautiful his words had been, and would've just classified it as speaking from the heart. But things like those were the reason that she was feeling whatever it was she was feeling for Pacey.

"What?" he asked, catching her intent stare.

"It was beautiful," she said softly, as not to interrupt the matron of honor's toast. He smiled softly at Joey, before turning his attention back to Dawson and Marissa.

* * * * *

The drive back to Joey's hotel was quiet. They had bid Dawson and Marissa farewell, and left the reception together, only to decide to bring Joey back.

Pacey mindlessly banged his fists together as they stood outside the room door.

"I had a good time today, Pacey," she said, breaking the silence. "There's nowhere else I would have rather been."

"Me either," he said. He braced himself against the wall with his hand, leaning toward her. "I have one regret, though."

"What's that?" she asked, desperately trying to ignore the quickening pace of her heart.

"We never had our kiss."

"That was problematic," she grinned, her voice lowering with every word. "What are you going to do about it?"

He smiled. "It means that I'm going to wait for fate to give us the right time for it."

"What if now's the right time?" she asked hopefully.

"We've got a whole week ahead of us," he said, running a finger along her jawline. "I don't want to rush it."

"I guess I have to accept it, then," she whispered. "Just don't forget about it, Pacey."

"I won't," he said softly. "I'll pick you up bright and early in the morning." He laid a gentle kiss on her cheek, smiled, and walked away.

* * * * *

"One, you're like a dream come true.
Two, just wanna be with you.
Three, girl, it's plain to see,
That you're the only one for me.
And four, repeat steps one through three.
Five, make you fall in love with me.
If ever I should feel my work is done,
Then I'll start back at one."

-- Brian McKnight, Back At One

Joey breathed in the salt water as she looked out at the ocean. Pacey settled beside her, handing her a plastic cup of iced tea. "Thanks," she smiled.

"You're welcome," he said. "It's really beautiful out here, huh?"

She nodded. "It's gorgeous. You wouldn't happen to know what we're going to do in Catalina for a week?"

They both took a seat on a nearby bench. "I'm going to enjoy your company," he said.

"Was that a line?" she asked, grinning.

"Maybe a little one," he smiled. "You don't like it?"

"You're very smooth, Pacey," she said sarcastically.

Things were quiet for a moment. Joey looked at Pacey, and saw he was deep in thought. "What's up?" she asked.

"I was thinking about you last night before I went to sleep," he said.

"You were?" she asked, the corner of her mouth turning into a smile.

"Yeah," he said. "Last night was wonderful, beautiful even. And I'm sure that we have seven great days ahead of us. It's just that . . . I sort of feel like reality's crumbling down on us."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You live in Paris, Jo."

Joey laughed. "I know."

"So how could we even work?" he asked. "Concord on the weekend? Thousand dollar telephone bills?"

"We could make it work," she said. She gently took his hand and smiled at him. "I can take pictures anywhere, you know?"

His head snatched up, and he looked into her eyes. "Do you mean that? You'd live here?"

"Yeah," she said. "For the man I loved? In a second."

Pacey smiled back at her, looking washed in a wave of relief. The conversation she'd had with Dawson yesterday had made her think about it. And she was glad that she had. For the first time, she thought this was serious. In just five days she'd fallen in love. It was a lot more simple than she always thought it would be. Of course, all her complicated romances had failed.

This one was simple. It made her have the boundless energy of a child. It made her smile. It made her giggle. It made her have an unnerving faith in forever. And the most amazing thing was that she wasn't scared. She was excited, giddy with anticipation.

And she wanted to see what was going to happen next.

* * * * *

Joey examined the house in awe as she trolled up the stairs. It was absolutely huge for a weekend home, but she knew that Marissa's parents probably had homes like this across the world, so it shouldn't have been such a surprise. It was a secluded, large, white house with picture windows, sitting just on the edge of the island. There was beautiful, grainy sand just outside the door, crystal blue water that stretched back to the mainland. The interior was just as stunning, with white walls and furniture. There was a large marble fireplace in the living room, along with a beautiful spiral staircase.

Joey ran down the stairs of the house excitedly, greeting Pacey in the kitchen. "Did you have any idea that this place was this huge?" she asked.

He shook his head. "But you should've been able to tell by the wedding that Marissa's folks never do anything half-assed."

"I'll say," Joey said, still looking around the house.

"Let's hope Dawson had the foresight to leave food, because I'm starving," Pacey said, heading for the refrigerator.

"Anything good?" Joey asked.

"A letter from Dawson," he said, pulling his head from the refrigerator and shutting the door. He ripped open the envelope and handed it to Joey.

She began to read the letter aloud, as Pacey returned to rummage through the food in the refrigerator. "Dear Pacey and Joey, I hope you find the accommodations for you vacation adequate. I'm sure you both know by now that this has all been my handiwork. So sue me if I want you both together. There's not much you can do about it now, considering Marissa and I are happily living it up in the Virgin Islands."

Joey looked up at Pacey and smiled. "I can't believe him."

"You mean you wish he hadn't done any of it?" he asked.

"No, I just wish he hadn't been so damn sneaky," she laughed, looking back at the paper to finish. "You two have a good time, and try to do some falling in love if you can. Love, Dawson."

"Well, he's always been anything but subtle," Pacey shrugged.

Joey laughed. "Oh, and look," she said, pulling something from the envelope, "a visitor's guide. And Dawson has taken it upon himself to flag the good stuff."

"Well, let's find something good to do," Pacey said, resting next to Joey as he chomped on an apple.

"Mr. Witter, I believe today is the perfect day for shopping," she said.

"Why not?" he said. He linked his arm around hers and grabbed the keys to the rental car.

* * * * *

"Joey," Pacey whined. "You've looked absolutely wonderful in everything you've tried on, and I will personally buy you every single outfit if we leave now."

Joey had an amused look on her face as she emerged from the fitting room in her own clothes. "Okay," she said. "Just let me put these back."

He grabbed a dress from the pile. "Not this one," he said. Without another word he walked to the front of the store and stood in line as Joey put back the other clothes.

* * * * *

Joey watched Pacey thoughtfully as he picked up a shell and tossed it out into the ocean. She smiled softly. She didn't really understand what was happening. Some people would call it a whirlwind romance, but it'd been five days and he hadn't even kissed her. Something about the situation was so romantic. They were familiar strangers, thrown together by the handiwork of a long-time friend on the weekend of his wedding. And amidst all the romantic wedding planning, she found out how sweet he was, how much he'd grown, how romantic he was. She found out he was what she'd been looking for, and now they were alone together on a vacation.

It was a strange feeling. Never in a million years was she supposed to feel this way about Pacey. Yet, here she was watching him and trying to figure out when and how she fell in love with him.

Catalina was gorgeous. She was enjoying so much about being there with him. Even the silence was comfortable. She felt so wired, though, as if she could run a marathon or talk until she died, but it also had a sereneness about it. There were hues of purple and orange and yellow filling the sky as the sun set, and the surf lapped softly at her feet as she felt her feet sink into the ground.

"Tell me about your job, Pacey," she said.

"What?" he asked, looking back at her as he tossed another shell back into the ocean.

She shrugged, taking a seat in the sand. "I'm just curious about it."

"I'm a cop," he said, sitting next to her. "It's not nearly as interesting as it is on t.v."

"Are you ever scared?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I can't be scared. The first time that I looked down the barrel of a gun I realized that."

"Someone's held a gun on you?"

"Yeah," he said. "Lots of times. It's just part of the territory."

"How do you ever get used to that?" she said softly.

"Someone's gotta do it, Jo. Besides, I do more waiting and more paper pushing than anything else. It's not like I'm chasing bad guys 24/7."

"Why do you do it?"

He laughed. "My sophomore year of college I worked in campus security," he said. "Don't laugh," he added when he saw the expression on her face. "I walked girls back to their dorms after late classes and that sort of thing. It was . . . it was eye-opening. I'm not sure what exactly did it. One day I just went to change my major to criminal justice."

"Why'd you like it, though?" she asked.

"Well, let's face facts, Jo. You had to know that I wasn't a serious student. My first year I probably had blood alcohol levels that were higher than my GPA. At some point, though, you have to get serious. I have the drive," he said. "I'm not scared when I go out there. A Kamikaze attitude is everything in this business."

"You don't ever worry about getting shot?" she asked, almost scared to hear the answer. She knew that was a good quality in a cop, but she wasn't sure it would be a good quality in a boyfriend.

"It doesn't hurt so bad," he said, attempting to smile.

Her eyes widened. "You've?"

He nodded. "Shot twice, stabbed once. No big deal."

"Did it . . . hurt?" she asked.

"Jo," he began, knowing she didn't want to hear about it.

"I want to know," she said. "Tell me about it."

He pulled his white tee-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He pointed to his left shoulder, a small round scar and another long straight scar. "Shot in the shoulder," he said simply.

She reached out tentatively to run her finger along the scar. "How'd it happen?"

"Domestic violence call. The husband didn't think we should've been interfering, so he got me with his shotgun." Joey just looked back at him sadly. "It's different than it sounds on t.v.," he continued. "The first time I heard a gun shot, it was different. The first time you get shot--it's the same thing. It's just not what you're expecting."

She looked back seriously at him. This was somewhat of a reality check, bringing them back to reality after they'd lived somewhere else for days. "What's the long one?" she asked.

"No exit wound," he said. "They had to go in and get it out. It's not so bad. It just hurts like a bitch when it rains."

"Where's the other one?" she asked.

"This one," he said, pointing to another small scar on his leg, "was from a drug raid. Stray shot. It got me." He pointed down to a jagged scar on his abdomen. "This is my most interesting one," he added. "Routine traffic stop. He stabbed me when I was looking at his driver's licence. It probably hurt more than the gunshots."

"How do you do it?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," he answered. "Take it day by day, hope for the best, and as long as I keep breathing, I'm happy."

"You're brave, huh?"

"I'm lucky."

"You afraid your luck will run out?" she asked.

He smiled softly. "I think that my luck is just beginning."

She couldn't help but to smile back at him. He was so sweet, especially trying so hard to turn a serious moment into something a little more happy. "So why do you say that?" she asked lightly.

"Because I've found you," he smiled. "And that wasn't a line," he added quickly.

"So what's going to happen?" she asked, smiling.

"I'm not sure," he returned.

"You haven't even kissed me yet," she said.

"I know," he said. "I thought we were waiting for the right moment."

"You're waiting for the right moment," she countered. "As far as I'm concerned, we've had right moments."

"Well, you could kiss me," he offered.

"You're supposed to be the one romancing me," she laughed.

"Is that what I'm doing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's working," she smiled.

"So is now a right moment?" he asked.

She looked around, a crooked grin on her face. "Sunset, ocean, you . . . it seems to be more than enough."

He moved closer to her, and spoke softly. "You sure? I can't take it back."

"Are you expecting peril on the first kiss?" she asked.

"No," he said, placing his fingers softly under her chin. "I'm expecting bliss."

"So why haven't you done it?" she asked.

"I can only figure I must be crazy," he said.

She smiled before she felt him softly touch his lips to hers. He was so tender, yet demanding. In that second she wondered why they'd waited so long. It seemed as if they should've been doing this forever. Her hands settled on his shoulders, as he twined his fingers in her hair. He pulled away, his hands settled on each side of her face. "You are crazy," she mumbled.

"Why is that?" He smiled.

She laughed, leaning her forehead against his. "Because after all that build-up, it was still more wonderful than I'd imagined."

* * * * *

Pacey inhaled the ocean air as he stood on the porch, looking out at the sand and the dark ocean. He was waiting patiently for Joey to come out so they could go to dinner.

He didn't know what was happening. All he knew was that he'd fallen hard for her. He'd spent a lot of time wandering around, hoping to find what he wanted to do with his life, who he wanted to share his life with. After so many times coming up empty, it was so unusual to find some one so right and love her so easily. Especially considering they'd known each other since cooties were spreading across the playground.

She stayed quiet as she walked up behind him. One of the things she'd grown to love over the past few days was the simple act of watching him when he didn't know that she was. He was serious, his stature commanding. "Hey," she said softly.

He turned around and grinned widely. "Wow," he marveled. "You look stunning."

"Thank you," she said, smiling self-consciously.

They walked quietly down the street to a small jazz club they'd spotted earlier when they were shopping. It was quaint, with some unknown saxophonist playing up on the small stage. The room was dark and laid back, as they ate lightly and enjoyed each other's company.

Pacey pulled his chair closer to Joey's as she worked to finish her drink. "So," he said, grinning slightly at her. "I told you all about my job, and you didn't tell me anything about yours."

"I take pictures," she said, unable to hide the smile that wanted to show.

"Why do you take pictures, Miss Potter?" he asked smoothly.

She stopped momentarily to clap for the saxophonist as he finished his set. "Well, Pace, I like to take pictures."

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not exactly sure what you're asking me."

"Shouldn't you have some passion for photography that you'd be willing to talk about endlessly?" he asked. "I want to know what motivates you to get out of bed every morning and do your job."

"My job and why I love taking pictures are two separate things," she explained. "You see, when I go out to do a shoot for work, I'm not really interested in taking pictures of emaciated models. I take pictures of the models to take pictures of other things."

"Like what?" he asked.

She laughed, amused, yet impressed by his interest. She figured it was time to be serious. That seemed to be what he wanted. "It's like the sunset we watched today," she began. "Beautiful, right?"

"Beautiful," he agreed. "Maybe not the most beautiful thing around at the time, though."

"Well," she continued, "lots of people don't take time to stop and appreciate it. So I can take that one moment when mother nature has created perfection and capture it forever."

He smiled softly. "Do you even know how beautiful that is?"

She shrugged. "It's not really beautiful, it's just how I feel."

He pressed a lock of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger near her neck. "You don't even realize how phenomenal you are, do you?" he asked.

She looked down at her glass, not even wanting to address the subject. She couldn't believe that she was lucky enough to be there with this wonderful man, and he was using words like beautiful, stunning, and phenomenal to describe her.

He shook his head, moving away from her just a bit. "I guess you think that I'm still feeding you lines," he said, his voice dejected.

She reached out, placing her hand softly atop his. "It's not that," she said softly. "I'm just wondering if maybe . . . well, I could be dreaming or something."

He laughed. "I'd at least hope that if this were a dream, I'd know the right things to say."

"You are saying the right things," she said softly. "Maybe I'm just . . . starting to realize how lucky we are to . . . have a friend like Dawson."

"Well, this clearly doesn't have the desired effect if you're sitting here thinking about Dawson," he said, smiling.

"Dawson brought us together like this," she said. "I don't know how I could ever thank him enough to have the foresight to realize that the shy photographer from Paris could fall so crazily head-over-heels in love with the tough cop from the LAPD who salsa dances."

"So it was the dancing that got you?" he laughed.

"The first time we slow-danced and you laid my hand across your heart . . . I knew," she said softly.

He smiled. "That was all it took?"

"You don't even realize how wonderful a man you are, do you?" she asked, not even realizing that she was echoing his earlier sentiments. She laughed, shaking her head. "You have this wonderfully heroic job that you love, your eyes sparkle whenever you talk about being in love, you have a way of making me feel like I'm the most beautiful, most desirable woman in the world. The things you do, the things you say, they just continue to amaze me."

"Maybe the most beautiful, most desirable woman in the room is the one who's bringing all those things out in me," he said softly.

Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt her chest, the blood was rushing to her ears, making it hard to think. She smiled, moving closer to him. "Have I mentioned that you know all the right things to say?"

His breath was shallow as he raised his sparkling eyes to hers. He kissed her softly. "Right now I don't know what to say," he said, smiling slightly.

She laughed, pulling away from him a bit. "Maybe we should go back to the house," she said. "I'm sure that we'll find something to talk about."

* * * * *

Joey looked around the lavish living room of the house, not sure where to settle as she waited for Pacey. She wandered the room, running her finger along the ledge of the fireplace as she slowly moved. She spun around when she heard the stereo come on, playing a slow, mellow song.

There was a smile on his face as he walked toward her. "What was it you said I did?" he asked softly.

She swallowed and looked up at him seriously. "Well," she began, "you had a hand on my hip." She stopped to watch him place his right hand firmly on her hip. "You held my other hand as we danced," she continued. "Then you brought your hand up to your chest and rested my hand over your heart."

"Like this?" he asked, moving her hand to his heart.

"Yes, and then I did this," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I could hear your heart beating then just like I can now."

"Is it going fast?" he asked.

"Not as fast as mine," she said, laughing softly.

"I love you, Jo," he whispered.

She didn't think he would say it first. She'd assumed she would be the one to say it first, and she'd just been waiting for the right time. Her reservations won out this time. "Are you sure about that?" she asked. "It's not even been a week."

"It's been more than a week," he answered.

She was confused, and looked back into his loving eyes cautiously. "What?"

The corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. "You had to know," he began. "I had a crush on you back then."

She nodded her head slowly. "A crush is a far cry from being in love."

He touched the side of her face gently. "I lied the other day at the airport. I was mad at you when you left for Paris. Just because . . . I never thought I got my fair chance." He paused, and looked back to her eyes seriously. "I don't know if I was in love with you then or not, but I could've been with the right chance. Now, I think I am. This time I don't care about my pride or anything else. I had to tell you this time."

"I don't know what to say," she answered softly. "I can't look into your eyes and tell you that I've pined away for you for years."

"You don't have to do that," he interrupted.

She smiled a soft, crooked smile. "What I can tell you," she continued, "is that in the past few days . . . I've found everything I've been looking for in you."

He looked back at her and smiled. "So what's that mean?"

"It means that I love you too," she whispered, laying a soft kiss on his lips.

She pulled away and looked up into his eyes, once again in awe. She couldn't believe this was the man she loved. Everything seemed too perfect, too good to be true. In that moment she wanted everything and nothing from him. She wanted the night to span on forever, an endless mass of glorious thoughts and feelings.

By the look in his eyes, she somehow knew he would make that happen.

* * * * *

"Can I just see you every morning when I open my eyes?
Can I just feel your heart beating beside me every night?
Can we just feel this way together 'til the end of all time?
Can I just spend my life with you?

Can you run to these open arms when no one else understands?
Can we tell God and the whole world I'm your woman, you're my man?
Can you just feel how much I love you with one touch of my hand?
Can I just spend my life with you?"


-- Eric Benet and Tamia, Spend My Life With You

She dug her feet into the sand, as she thoughtfully watched him. She looked down at her half-drawn sketch and regretted not taking a picture of this instead: It would be the only real way to capture this moment in only the most remote way of doing it justice.

He was building her a castle, or at least, as he called it, the only castle he could give her on a cop's salary. It was a sand castle.

"How tall do you want this thing?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'd probably want it to spread out rather than high up."

He nodded. "Lots of buildings in her majesty's kingdom."

"Why are you doing this, Pacey?" she asked, smiling.

"I thought you'd like it," he said. "Besides, I've always loved building sand castles."

"I remember," she said. "I used to stomp over them to make you mad."

"And it always worked," he laughed.

"Don't act like you didn't antagonize me," she said.

"Far from it, Miss Josephine," he said, drawing a careful line with a stick around the top of one of the taller piles of sand. "I just gave as good as I got."

She rolled her eyes. "And if I believe that, you can also sell me a bridge," she said.

He shrugged. "So perhaps I've matured with age."

"You have," she smiled.

"So you like me now?" he asked, playfully raising an eyebrow.

She sat down her sketch and knelt beside him. She linked her arm through his, looking into his eyes and smiling. "I always liked you," she said. "The difference is now . . . I love you."

He laid a soft kiss on her lips, afterward staying close to her and smiling. "Was that a ploy to get a bigger castle?"

She elbowed him in the ribs. "It's just like you to ruin a romantic moment with your sarcasm."

He laughed, kissing her again on her nose. "Anyone could've said 'I love you too, Jo.'"

"I guess that's why I don't want just anyone," she smiled.

He shook his head. "Are you going to finish that sketch, or am I just too irresistible?"

"You're resistible," she said. She stood up and walked back to the spot she'd been in just minutes ago, picked up her pad, and began sketching again. She pointed at the castle. "You should get back to work too," she said.

She smiled as he picked up his shovel and began to shape the sand again. Maybe he wasn't so resistible.

* * * * *

It felt good for her to be wrapped in his arms as they sat on the beach, watching yet another sunset. "So tell me something, Pace," she said quietly.

"What?" he asked.

"How did this happen?"

"What?"

"Us," she said. "How did we end up like this?"

"Are you not where you want to be?" he asked, seemingly hurt.

"No," she said, turning around to look him in the eye. "I'm exactly where I want to be. It's just . . . strange. I mean, I looked for someone like you for so long, and it was strange for me to find it in you. And I feel like this is such a delusion and it'll come crashing down around me any second."

He touched her chin softly. "Anything can happen," he said. "I know that. But we've already gotten through the hard, falling-in-love part. We can handle everything else."

"Well, one crisis is averted," she said slowly.

"What's that?"

"I got a call from the editor of the LA Times today. It looks like I've got a job as a photographer on staff."

"You're moving to LA?" he asked.

She nodded. "I mean, I've been thinking about coming back to the States for a long time, and even before . . . this, Dawson and I talked about me moving to LA. I had my interview before the wedding. So if you want me to . . ."

"You shouldn't even have to ask," he said softly. "You know I want you close by."

"Yeah, but this makes it . . . serious, and--"

"I want it to be serious," he interrupted.

"I know," she sighed. "It's just that I don't want to put a lot of pressure on you, and--"

"You don't pressure me," he interrupted again. He pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled softly. "I love you, Jo," he said. "And I'm going to want to be around you all the time, to the point that you're going to get sick of me."

"Are you trying to make me realize how stupid I sound?" she asked. "Because, I know that I couldn't get sick of you. I just want to make sure that you're sure."

"I'm sure," he said. He leaned toward her and kissed her. "I'm very sure."

She kissed him again. "Good."

He smiled. "Very good."

* * * * *

She couldn't believe all the trouble Pacey had gone to. Earlier in the afternoon when he'd left to stock up for their last night in Catalina, she didn't realize he'd go to so much trouble.

He'd lit candles in the living room, and had some fabulous food delivered from some gourmet restaurant. And now he'd gone to get what he'd only termed as "a surprise."

She wasn't sure what it was, and she didn't even want to speculate. The week had been perfect, though, and she was a bit wary of going back to the real world. After their earlier conversation, though, she was glad they were going back to the world together. It seemed as though everything that could've gone wrong, just hadn't, and they were lucky that was the case.

He came inside and handed her a glass of wine. He pulled a package from under his arm and handed it to her, as he sat down at her side. "This of for you," he said, handing her the box wrapped in a floral paper with a soft purple ribbon.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Open it," he nodded.

She smiled, pulling the ribbon off carefully. Inside the box was what looked like a book. It was simple, just pages tied together by another purple ribbon. She opened the book and read off the first page. "I know this probably isn't brilliantly written, and I know I couldn't make it rhyme. But I hope it's enough to let you know how I feel. Love, Pacey." She looked up at him to smile.

"Read it," he said softly.

She turned the page and saw a picture of Dawson. She read aloud. "Once upon a time, there lived a blond man who was too nosy for his own good." She laughed as she turned the page, where there was another drawing she'd done of she and Pacey in the gazebo at the reception. "He had a plan to make his two best friends fall in love."

Joey turned the page and saw a photo she'd taken of a sunset. He must've had her pictures developed too. "In less than a week, the two had fallen completely in love." She turned the page again to see her sketch of his sand castle. "The man built her a castle," she read laughing, "and she, too, professed her love for him."

As she turned several blank pages, he said, "That's for what's left to come."

She brought her hand to her mouth and gasped as she reached the last page. There was a diamond ring tied in yet another purple ribbon. He got on his knee in front of her and smiled brightly. He wiped her tears before they had a chance to fall. "If you'll have me," he said, "I want to give you the happily ever after part. I may have been some English-flunking, town-loser, son-of-the-sherif, school skipping, self-depreciating kid when we were growing up, but I know that I made something of myself. And I want to share whatever I have--whatever I will have--with you."

He smiled at her again. "So what do you say, Jo? Marry me?"

She rested her hands on his cheeks and kissed him softly. "I wouldn't care if you were still skipping school, Pacey. You're selfless and brave and kind and you have the best heart that I've come across in a long time," she said firmly with a smile on her lips. "Yes," she whispered.

"Yes?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yes," she said. "Didn't you hear me the first time?"

He kissed her again. "Just make sure you don't change your mind."

"That'll never happen. You're stuck with me," she laughed.

* * * * *

The End