"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.
* * * * *