Dawson and Joey – Fairytales do exist.
Saturday.
Joey’s ex-apartment, New York.
Boxes, rolls of tape, packing materials are strewn everywhere in Joey’s apartment as the sunlight streams through the windows.
“Dawson!” yells Joey from the next room. She scampers into the room with a humongous pillow while it doesn’t weigh much obscures much of her vision. !
“Joey,” returns Dawson. Dawson turns just in the nick of time to avoid a collision with Joey. Joey has been in motion all day. Happy, excited, and anxious to get all of her stuff finally packed.
“Oops, sorry,” Joey says with a smile and almost out of breath. Dawson knows that smile, a little too wide to be considered truly beautiful, but it was goofy and sweet; the smile he knew she didn’t have any control over; the smile she uses when she is happiest. Dawson can’t help but return her smile and takes the pillow out of her arms.
“Dawson . . .” Joey mockingly complains.
“I think we need to take a little break,” says Dawson as he gently rubs her arms. Dawson leans in and gently kisses her. Joey feels like it takes an eon for him to kiss her. The kiss deepens and she can feel her heartbeat speed. Dawson finally ends the kiss and leans his forehead against hers.
“Mmm,” he murmurs in her ear.
Joey smiles content in his embrace; it feels so right, so perfect. Like it never felt before.
“You know,” says Joey dreamily, “It’s moments like these that makes me want to hurry and pack and move in with you,”
“Is that a subtle hint you want us to start packing again?” says Dawson with a smile.
“Yes!” says Joey as she moves out of his embrace. Joey stands back and thoughtfully looks around the room.
“I know that look and it usually means trouble,” says Dawson.
“We should reflect on this moment, we should talk about the impact of this . . .” starts Joey.
“What?” says Dawson inwardly groaning, not believing that she is wanting to have that discussion at this stage of the game, when she has been already living with him for the last few weeks. Joey looks at Dawson with an impish grin.
“I’m only kidding,” she says with a laugh and Dawson rolls his eyes. She hugs him and says, “I really was teasing you. This is something we don’t need to talk about anymore. I was just thinking about how we were once fifteen and how we would talk about something like this to death.”
“Lucky us,” says Dawson, “we’re not fifteen anymore.”
Dawson relaxes and they both go back to picking up the last few things from Joey’s old apartment. As they finish packing, Joey points to a box.
“That one, I’ll carry,” she tells Dawson.
“What’s so important in that box?” asks Dawson.
Joey squirms. It was the one box she had left to bring to Dawson’s. Dawson notices Joey’s discomfort and he gets uneasy. Are there things that Joey doesn’t want him to know about? Ghosts of boyfriends from the past? Joey looks at Dawson and sees uncertainty in his eyes. It’s the last thing that she wants, even if it is just a glimmer of uncertainty.
“Dawson,” Joey starts.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me Joey,” sighs Dawson as he picks up the last box. “As I said, we’re not fifteen anymore. I won’t peek into it or anything like I did with your diary” he jokes, remembering their first fight as a couple so long ago.
“No, we’re not,” responds Joey as she grabs his arm, “and that’s why I want you to know what’s inside this box. You just have to promise not to torture me about it for the rest of my life.”
Dawson frowns his eyebrows in confusion as he promises, “OK, I won’t”.
Joey makes Dawson put down the box and she kneels next to the other box.
“These are just things from our past together,” says Joey, blushing lightly as she throws a side glance to Dawson, who seems to be moved and intrigued as he peers into the box.
Joey pulls out a scrapbook. She flips through the pages and shows him their pictures from so long ago. Pictures of them before they were 15. Joey hands the album to Dawson. Dawson scans the pictures in the album as he turns the pages. The pictures in them make him smile. It is an album of him and Joey. Joey holds her breath waiting for him to say something. Joey had lovingly pasted pictures of them into the album and mementos of their past. A copy of the letter announcing their win of the Junior Division of the Boston film festival; the ticket stub of their first date at the Rialto; the program from the beauty pageant Joey had entered into; and so much more.
“I started recollecting once we started dating again after Christmas. Everything I had in that box I gave you and much more stuff I had in different places at the B&B and such. I brought them home to New York and started to put it in order. Somehow I felt as if it was something I had to make.”
Dawson finally closes the album but Joey hands him another one. This is smaller: it represents a part of her life and his life that had just started.
(Music of the credits starts playing in the background)
Taking it in his hands as well, Dawson is surprised to see articles of him in different newspapers, comments, and reviews about ‘The Creek’ and some interviews made to him while he was in L.A.
“Your biggest fan, remember?” Joey laughs a little embarrassed.
“Well?” says Joey anxiously. “Do you think I’m stalker now?” she says half-jokingly but still unsure about how he feels about the album. Dawson remains silent, his face serious as he looks at the album he still has in his hands. Then, slowly, he puts it aside and looks up at Joey, who is surprised to see some tears welling up his eyes.
“Joey, I love you too.” Dawson says as he gathers her into his arms, kissing her softly.
“Well, you knew I’ve been obsessed with you since I was like 12 years old,” Joey jokes.
“I think the next album should of us, and we should both work on it together,” says Dawson as he hugs her tighter.
“Deal,” responds Joey with a big grin.
Without further words, they stand up and pick up the last Joey’s belongings, close the light and shut the door. The next chapter of their life has officially begun.
CREDITS.
Dawson’s loft, NYC, about a couple of hours later. The bedroom.
Standing at the foot of the bed, Joey glances around the room and she can't help but to smile sweetly. She walks around to her side of the bed, the side that she has always slept on with Dawson and sits down. A picture of Bodie, Bessie and Alex adorn her nightstand. “My nightstand,” she mumbles quietly to herself as her fingers absentmindedly touch the picture frame.
She hears a loud noise downstairs, "Dawson are you okay?" Joey yells.
"Everything's okay," he yells back, "just some of the stuff for the kitchen. It sounds worse than it is."
Joey focuses, once again, on unpacking another box in the bedroom, one that she made sure she brought in to the bedroom and placed where she knew it would be.
Sitting on the bed, one leg bent on the bed, the other falling over the side and swinging a bit, she begins to open the box. Taking out all of the contents in the box, she comes to what is at the bottom, her most recent painting. She moves her leg, the one on the bed, so that it now joins the other. Lost in her own world, Joey doesn't hear Dawson at the door nor does she hear him enter the room. He stands on the other side of the bed trying to glance over her shoulder to see what has captured her attention so completely. Her shoulder drops slightly and her head tilts and he is able to see what she is staring at, a picture one that he hasn't seen before.
"How long are you planning on standing there?" She asks her head turned slightly sideways.
"You were pretty lost in thought," he crawls onto the bed and positions himself behind her, his arms going around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "I haven't seen this one, have I?.”
She shakes her head.
"Can you guess what it is?” She asks.
"I think I can guess," he smirks causing her to elbow him in the stomach slightly.
"So?" She turns her face around to face him.
"So what?" He asks smiling brightly.
He loves to goad her, he always has.
"Remember the gift you gave me for Christmas?” Joey asks as she looks back to the painting and she can feel Dawson nod his head against her shoulder. "When I got home that night and got into bed I couldn't sleep. I closed my eyes and couldn't stop thinking about you, about the place that has always been a home to me so, I followed the advice that someone gave me a long time ago to draw what I love. You and I were getting closer again and I just wanted something to remind me of that so, I used the pen that you gave me to make a rough sketch and then I painted this," she runs her hands over the painting following the lines of the house.
Dawson is mesmerized as he watches her finger on the canvas. Placing a hand over hers, he follows her hand and when they have drawn the silhouette of the house together, Joey leans on him, closing her eyes.
“The name of the painting is ‘True North,’” she states clearly and Dawson smiles, one of his cheeks pressed gently against one of hers.
She moves out of his embrace, gets off the bed and places the painting on the floor next to her nightstand then she looks back at him. She can feel what he is feeling and it comforts her. Sitting back down on the bed next to him, she looks in to his eyes and takes his hand in hers, "There was a time when I didn't love living on the creek, in that house or in Capeside for that matter. But now I look back on all that it has given me and I embrace it. The creek is kind of a metaphor for us Dawson, it never ends." She squeezes his hands then moves closer to him enveloping him in a hug.
A mischievous smile falls on his face.
"So Joey Potter, who knows you might just be a great painter."
She smiles broadly disengaging from the hug.
"So, Dawson Leery, who knows you might just be a great carpenter someday," she jokes with him both of them remembering another time.
He laughs, as does she, then his face becomes a bit serious.
"I'll never be a great carpenter, but you, miss, have talent...talent that shouldn't be wasted."
She smiles shyly, which changes to a somewhat intense stare, one of their trademark eye chatter.
Getting off the bed, she goes to open up another box. She retrieves something that appears to be a manuscript to Dawson. She goes over to once again sit next to him on the bed.
"This is one of the books that I am editing for work. I've seen a lot of manuscripts cross my desk the last few years and so many of them would be much interesting for the reader if there were pictures in the book. We think of pictures so many times only for children's books but what about all the rest." He watches her as she speaks adamantly using her hands to gesture, with fire in her eyes.
"So you'd like to illustrate books?"
"I don't know it would be something new and it would combine two things that I love," he smiles hearing the word “love” again. “Or maybe I would like to try something else. I mean, why do I have to close myself to other possibilities? Maybe illustrating today, painting tomorrow, writing someday...”
"That’s true, you never know. About the art I'm sure that someone has art classes here in this city. So that someone can expand her horizons a bit more?" He cajoles trying to move off of the bed before she tickles him but doesn't succeed.
"Okay....I give...I give!" He says loudly as Joey laughs then snickers but then is caught off guard by Dawson tickling her as she erupts in to fits of laughter. "Okay! Okay! Stop!" She says trying to catch her breath, and he stops.
Staring at her lips, he moves slowly inch by inch to kiss her, Joey’s eyes following his advances with interest, her mouth slightly open. And right before he kisses her, Joey bites her bottom lip and turns her face around playfully.
"We'll continue this later," she says seductively as she disentangles herself from under Dawson.
Dawson stays in bed, face down, and his groans is muffled by the cover of the bed.
"Come on, we have things to do,” Joey says, taking his hand and trying to drag him out of bed.
He finally does and wraps his arms around her waist from behind, both of them walking together.
“You’re bad,” Dawson leans in to murmur in her ear and she laughs as they leave the room hand in hand.
The rest are just a collage of scenes as the day passes. We see Dawson and Joey moving furniture around; placing a big lamp (property of Joey) by the sofa; hanging up some curtains over the windows; Joey placing some flowers here and there in vases as Dawson tells her something that causes her to turn around and pretend she is going to throw him the vase as he trots away laughing; Dawson and Joey extending a carpet on the floor and then having a late Chinese food lunch while sitting on it; Dawson hanging some of Joey’s paintings and Joey joking about how he wasn’t even able to do that in High School. Dawson just throws her a dirty glare and she laughs.
The last we see are Dawson and Joey standing side by side, both with their arms crossed and looking around with satisfied expressions in their faces.
“Home, sweet home” Joey says, and Dawson looks at her, smiling wide as she looks at him beaming. She steps into his arms and they kiss happily.
Later, in the main space of the loft.
We see Dawson and Joey sitting together on the couch, Dawson’s arm around her while her head is rested on his chest, both watching TV. Dawson suddenly turns his attention away from the TV to Joey.
"Jo, you sure you don’t want to something else?" he asks. "Like go out or something?"
Joey turns towards Dawson and smiles.
"Nope. You know, I kinda miss this," she begins. "Sitting here with you alone; watching a movie. Kinda like old times, but now much better," she explains, cuddling even closer to him.
Dawson smiles and briefly thinks back to the movie nights they used to have when they were children and even as teenagers, before everything turned out to be so complicated.
“Yeah, this is by far much better if you ask me,” he says, kissing the top of her head.
“Although look who’s the one who still loves to keep the remote,” she jokes, stretching her hand out to try and take it off his hand. But Dawson is quicker and she can’t do it. So instead, she slaps him playfully in the arm as he chuckles.
They watch the TV for a little more until Joey speaks again.
“I love this movie. It shows the good and the bad side of love. How it can work, or how it cannot. How it can open a door for you, or close it. It’s just perfect.”
(Today, by Noa, starts playing in the background)
“What is your favorite story?” Dawson asks, curious.
Here we are again
After everything has happened
Only you and me
And the light is fading fast
“Oh, the one with the Portuguese girl and the American writer. The moment they both dropped into the water to get his manuscript back and they both were totally in sync thinking the same thing, I just knew they would get the happy ending. It couldn’t have been any other way.”
Dawson laughs, “You sound just like me ten years ago. Where is the cynic I adored?” he jokes, squeezing her shoulder gently, pulling her against him.
“Well, love is change. And you changed me,” she smiles up sweetly at him. “I believe in love because I believe in us. In you and in you and me.”
Who would have believed
When the tiny seed was planted
Dawson leans his forehead on hers and they smile at each other.
“And what’s yours?”
“My favorite history in the movie?” Dawson asks, and Joey nods her head, then resting it on his shoulder as Dawson seems to be thinking about it.
This would be the year
When the rain would come at last
“The guy who has to watch the girl he loves marry his best friend. Hopeless, and probably will never happen, but she gave him something no one will be able to take away: courage to tell her how he feels. I like the internal fight, the turmoil of emotions he goes through and how without betraying the other guy, he lets her know quietly that maybe someday, sometime…”
“At the right moment…” she says, caressing his cheek, seeing the similarities between that story and theirs. The silent and quiet love Dawson always had for her and how ultimately, he always let her go.
Every passing hour
Changes us
But I love you more than any day before today
"You have this way of making a simple ritual like ‘movie nights’ incredibly special,” she tells him, moved at the memories and by the fact that today, she is sitting by his side, her body so close to his that she can feel him heart beating strong under her palm.
"Really?" he asks, teasing her earlobe in between his fingers, making her giggle softly, and she nods.
Today
Today and no other day
"I find myself looking forward to it all day long if I know ahead of time we’re having one!" she smiles at him.
“The kind of thing a guy likes to hear,” he says, and Joey laughs. “I’m glad I can still make you enjoy a movie night because I swear that after spending the greatest part of my time in the TV studio I can hardly watch any TV,” he shakes his head and
Joey rubs his chest gently, knowing what he means.
Dawson smiles, and they both turn their attention back to the movie.
A few minutes later though, Dawson turns his attention back towards Joey, watching her expression as she watches the TV.
Finally Joey realizes Dawson watching her. "What?"
"I was just thinking," he answers simply.
"About?" she asks.
"All this talk about TV and about movies…I was thinking about the show."
Joey raises her brow. "The Creek?"
Dawson nods his head.
“What about it?" she asks.
Dawson sits up straighter on the couch as he begins to explain.
"Well, and I’m not complaining, but I set out to do movies, and now I’m doing a TV show."
"A very successful show I may add," Joey says proudly.
"I know, I’d just like to expand my horizon someday, is all, you know? Take a stab at making a movie. The process is so different to the TV shows. With a TV show you need to have everything mapped out, but at the same time you can’t help the changes along the way, and you must consider the risk of losing your vision as the episodes go by. Because it is not only you who makes the decisions, there are more people involved in it who has the power to decide, or to ‘suggest’ as they like to call it. The network and all… I miss being in control. I mean, I am in control, but not that way. What I want is to be able to develop a history in a shorter time lapse. Take a day, a week in someone’s life and show what happens, how everything can change in a minute. And only three months of shooting, oh glory!," he explains. "God, it’s been so long since I’ve done that, making movies." He laughs after hearing himself. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t whine so much, should I?”
Listen to my heart
As it stutters like the raindrops
Let me fill my soul
"You’re not whining,” Joey says, almost offended, and Dawson laughs some more.
“Dawson, you’ll get there, you just can’t rush it," she tells him.
"Right now you are into TV and there must be a reason for that. Sooner or later, movies will come if that is what you want. You just need to give yourself a break. Once you’re done with ‘The Creek’ and the Spielberg show, you’ll make a movie. Just wait and see. Wanna bet something?" she adds with a smile on her face. Dawson smiles back. “I’ll make sure your dreams do come true”
With the beauty of your eyes
I may be a fool
“You will?” he asks, letting himself flop down the couch again and lacing his fingers with Joey’s.
“Yes, I will” she beams at him. “Dreams do come true, I know it fairly well now. And maybe, Dawson Leery, I was the one you were waiting for them to happen.”
But I always want to hold you tenderly I say
You give reason to my life
“I’m more than sure about that,” he agrees, and they kiss.
"Well, what about you?" he asks, his head resting on the back of the sofa, just a few inches apart from hers, looking right into her eyes.
"What about me, Dawson?"
"Your art. After seeing your painting this morning in our room, I think you should give it a try again. I’d love to see you start up again," he tells her.
Joey smiles. "Maybe I will. There were so many things I wanted to make, you know?”
“Oh yeah, I know. You wanted to go in some romantic adventure or, on a dig in Tunisia, or a safari in Africa… what was the other? A research boat on its way to Antarctica."
“Oh God! How do you remember that?” she asks, totally surprised.
Dawson just shrugs his shoulder in a cute way and Joey beams at him.
“I guess I had the romantic adventure, although in the long run it solved nothing, but the opposite,” Dawson pats his hand gently and raises it to his mouth, kissing it. At this point, he couldn’t care less about that. “But never ever thought again about the rest,” Joey says thoughtfully.
Every passing hour
Changes us
But I love you more than any day before today
“But you said it yourself before: Dreams can come true. And what you didn’t know Joey Potter, is that maybe I was the one you were waiting for to make them happen,” he whispers sweetly in her ear, making her smile.
Today
Today
Today and no other day
Joey looks up at him and they kiss as she cups his face, his arms now wrapped tightly around her.
Today
*****
Sunday.
Outdoors, in the Big Apple.
We see Dawson and Joey in jogging clothes as they jog through a park, through a quiet street, sometimes in silence, sometimes making little conversation, one time Joey is pushing him playfully at something he said and he laughs as he avoids another shove.
At one point, Dawson stops and bends so his hands are resting on his knees.
“You’re getting old Dawson,” Joey jokes still trotting but without moving, as Dawson glares at her while he straights up.
“It’s not that, miss smarty pants. It is true that you are better than me at this,” he recognizes and Joey makes an ‘Oh, I know’ funny face, “but that is not the reason why I am stopping at here”.
Joey stops trotting and looks at him with curiosity. Dawson smiles and takes her hand.
“Come on,” he says softly, and leads her to a tiny street. Soon she is cuddling to him, his arm slung over her shoulders, her hand in the pocket of his sweating pants, her arm circling his hips as they walk in to the corridor with no hurry.
It’s kind of dark, the sun from outside not getting into it, but it leads to some kind of interior path that is suddenly full of light and life: flowers everywhere and a fountain in the middle of the open space.
Joey smiles and Dawson looks at her with a smile on his face as well.
“I had never seen this place,” Joey admits, and Dawson nods his head.
“I figured. It’s a friend’s of mine. Well, more than a friend, it is of someone that has been working in the decoration for the Spielberg show. He has his own gallery. A little one, but a good one if you ask me.”
Joey turns to him beaming with a funny spark in her eyes.
“What?” he asks, amused.
“You,” Joey replies, nearing her face to his. “That’s what. You amaze me everyday. When we were in high school I had to drag you to the art expositions, and now here you are, talking about art as an expert.”
Dawson laughs.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But I can now recognize the difference between good art and bad art. Or so I hope at least,” he says as they reaches the door and he opens it for her.
The place is modest and not too big, but well organized, paintings hanging everywhere and a lot of them in the floor, leaning on the walls as well.
“Is someone in here?” Dawson asks nearing a little office in the back as Joey looks around, checking carefully some of the paintings.
“Hey Dawson,” a young blond and tanned man, around 30, exits the office wiping his hands in a towel, offering one of them for Dawson to shake. “You made it here,” he smiles as they greet each other.
Curious, Joey approaches them, smiling, and stands near Dawson.
“Yes I did. And she is the person I wanted you to meet,” he says, placing his hand on the low back of Joey as she reaches her hand to shake with the man.
“I think we have actually met before. I’m Vincent,” the guy says, smiling at her. “Your Sammy, right?” he jokes at Dawson.
“I think we might get used to that” Dawson jokes with Joey, in a fake tone of exasperation.
“That’s what happens when you make of your love life a prime time TV show,” she jokes back, then turning her attention to Vincent. “And yeah, I think once of the times I went to pick up Dawson at the set of the Spielberg show you were there. Nice to see you again.”
“I wanted you to show Joey around and explain to her a little what this project of yours is about. She used to paint, you know, and actually, she still does, so I thought… that maybe you might be interested in what he has to say” Dawson finally says, smiling at Joey, who is now more intrigued than ever.
“That’s something I can do,” Vincent says, smiling and gesturing Joey and Dawson to follow him.
“Ok, I studied fine arts here in New York. I started getting jobs as a freelance artist at different theatres and then movie or TV show sets, or anything fate would throw my way as I finished my studies. I also painted by myself whenever I had the time. But it has always been extremely difficult to find a place where I could show my paintings. So I thought: ‘why not make it myself?’ I asked for some money from here and there, and some more I had saved, and well… the result is right in front of you,” he says, opening his arms to span the place where they are standing now. “This is my gallery. In it I wanna show my own art, but also the art of other people that is just starting and have nowhere to go and show it neither.”
“So,” Dawson intercedes excited, “I was thinking that maybe you would want to give it a try. I’ve seen your job Joey, and it is good. I know you could show it off and it would be a success”.
Joey is just standing there, amazed.
“Wow,” she murmurs as she lets the breath that she has been keeping in her chest come out, speechless.
“I know it might sound a little rushed, but Vincent is not planning on opening the gallery until a couple of months or so,” Dawson explains, still certain than this is the right thing, believing in her.
“Yeah, there’s still plenty of time,” Vincent adds, “and in the meantime, you can show me some of your art”.
Still perplexed, Joey nods her head and Dawson smiles at her.
Later, back to their loft.
“So you really do this everyday?” Dawson half complained as he watches Joey still jog in place for a bit then begin to stretch after their jog. After the couple of months they have spent living together he knows very well she does.
“Dawson you better do some stretching, you don’t want your muscles to seize up on you do you?” She smiles at him as he begins to stretch his breathing beginning to quiet as was hers. “Come on lets go inside and get something to drink, we can finish stretching in there,” she takes his hand and they both walk in to the building.
“Here you go,” Joey returns from getting bottled water out of the refrigerator and she can’t help but to giggle at Dawson who is sitting on the floor trying to reach his toes. He hears her giggle.
“Tell me why I can’t reach my toes?” He reaches for the bottled water that Joey is holding then gets off the floor and goes to sit on the couch.
“They say that men aren’t as limber as woman so that might be the reason.” She goes to sit on the floor handing her water bottle to Dawson.
“How do you do that?” He watches as she extends her arm to touch her toes.
She gives him a mischievous smile that he sees right away.
“What?” He asks watching as she beings to walk on her knees over to where he is sitting.
She positions herself between his legs placing her hands on either knee. He moves so that his face is right in front of hers.
She speaks softly, “Your flexibility is just fine as far as I can tell,” she says causing Dawson to feel a tingle go down his spine and his face turn a rosy shade.
“One of my talents huh?”
“One of your many talents,” she adds as she kisses him lightly on the lips. She pulls back quickly, “So what about me?”
“What about you? I think we’ve established that you are flexible,” he knows what she wants him to say but is just having fun not saying it.
“Dawson!” She playfully swats him on his knee.
“Joey,” he says rather seriously, “you have many talents ones that you and I probably don’t even know about and I hope that I’m there when you discover more of them,” he adds.
She grins then moves to sit next to him.
“In fact,” he begins to move off of the couch causing Joey to look at him questionably, “be right back.”
He moves quickly up the stairs then comes back a couple of minutes later
He places a box on top of the coffee table that is in front of the couch.
“What’s this?”
“Just some stuff that I’ve been collecting since we got back together,” answering her question. “And I think this is the right day t give it to you. Maybe it will help you make a decision about earlier,” he says, referring to their visit to Vincent’s ‘soon to be’ gallery.
She moves to the edge of the couch and he watches as she takes the top off of the box. A sweet smile befalls her face.
“Dawson,” sighing while she says his name.
She goes to pull the items out of the box which consist of brushes, watercolor paints, drawing paper and a few canvases. When she pulls the last item, a painting apron, out of the box, she laughs lightly.
“World’s Greatest Painter?” She asks as she shows the front of the apron to Dawson.
“Well I think so. How about decorating our loft with some of your paintings? You could even paint one of the walls,” Dawson says, gesturing to the high ceilings walls that dominate the loft.
“But Dawson…” she stammers a bit.
“But nothing Joey. You love to draw and paint. It makes you happy Jo,” he caresses her cheek lightly.
“You make me happy Dawson,” she smiles as does he.
“Think about it okay?” His eyes are soft as he gazes in to hers.
“Okay, but first I’m going to get out of these clothes and take a shower.” She stops at the bottom of the stairs, “Care to join me?”
Dawson moves off the couch quickly.
“Guess I don’t have to ask twice,” Joey says running up the stairs giggling with Dawson right behind her.
Still at Dawson and Joey’s Loft, some time later.
Joey is wearing a simple shirt and jeans, her hair pinned up in a ponytail. Her hands on her hips, a hand stairs next to her, she watches the wall in front of her, a concentrated expression on her face. Then she starts making sketches in paper, figures that hold no meaning for anyone but her. And so the images fade with one another as she starts painting here and there. She is so wrapped up into what she’s painting that she doesn’t hear Dawson come in. Dawson realizes this and sneaks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Joey jumps.
"You scared the crap out of me!" she says, squeezing the hand in her waist.
"Scaredy cat," he mumbles as he kisses her shoulder. Joey grins before turning her head so that she can give him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Are you done with your job?" Joey asks, knowing he had to make something related with the Spielberg show in his laptop. Answering emails and sending appointments and things like that.
"Yes, I am done for today," he replies, resting his chin over her shoulder and Joey smiles.
(“My best friend” by Tim McGraw starts playing in the background)
"So what are you painting?" he asks curiously, his arms still wrapped around her as he looks at the papers with interest.
I never had no one that I could count on
I've been let down so many times
"Oh I’m just doodling," she says as she adds something to the picture.
"Wow, for just ‘doodling’ your pretty good," Dawson observes.
I was tired of hurtin'
So tired of searchin'
Till you walked into my life
"It’s not that hard," Joey tells him. "Here, you try it," she says as she moves out of his grasp and hands him the paintbrush.
Dawson laughs as he tries to picture himself painting.
"No way." He tries to hand her back the brush.
"Dawson, don’t be afraid to try something different," she says to him.
It was a feelin' I'd never known
And for the first time, I didn't feel alone
"Joey, art is your thing, remember? Not mine," he tries to tell her.
But Joey won’t have any of it. She rolls her eyes and grabs his hand.
You're more than a lover
There could never be another
To make me feel the way you do
"Just try it," she says as she takes his hand and makes him paint something. "It would be great that it was our painting, you know? I just decided you’re gonna collaborate” she states matter of factly, making him groan. But he gives it a try just the same, his hand guided by Joey’s. “See, not that bad," she tells him.
Dawson laughs. "Yeah, sure it is."
Oh, we just get closer
I fall in love all over
Every time I look at you
“I don’t care. I don’t want a Picasso. But I still think it would be cute that we could paint this together. If you could paint a whole white picket fence I’m sure you can do this as well,” she beams at him at the memory.
Dawson smiles back and shakes his head.
“It’s not the same if you ask me.”
I don't know where I'd be
Without you here with me
Life with you makes perfect sense
You're my best friend
You're my best friend, oh yeah
“Oh come on. Yes?” Joey says as she positions herself in between his legs and gives him puppy eyes. Dawson laughs.
“No fair, that was my trick, not yours,” but Joey just keep on giving him the same eyes.
You stand by me
And you believe in me
Like nobody ever has
“OK, OK, I’ll paint. But you’ll have to help me,” he smiles as she leans to him, and she smiles big when he agrees.
When my world goes crazy
You're right there to save me
You make me see how much I have
And I still tremble when we touch
“And this is a deal,” she says as she nears his face and they kiss deep and slow.
And oh the look in your eyes
When we make love
Then she walks out of his embrace and retakes the painting with renewed energy. Dawson smiles as he watches her work happily.
You're my best friend
You're my best friend
*****