Run Like Mad

Part One

Rating: R for sex and language and alcohol and sex and language *because* of alcohol.

Summary: AU fan fiction. What if Dawson and Joey had never met as children, and had never become best friends? It doesn’t necessarily mean things are better, just…different.

Class: D/Jo, P/Jen

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Worthington, Boston, 2002, freshmen year

“We’ve only been here a few months, Jo.” Jen Lindley sat down next to her friend Joey on her dorm bed, where she was furiously scribbling notes from a text.

“You work too hard. You have three and a half years to work your butt off. Being a freshmen means having fun.”

“And getting bad grades as a freshmen can affect your entire academic career,” Joey pointed out, rolling up the sleeves of her amber-brown sweater.

“Besides, I’m on a scholarship, I have to get good grades.”

“You are getting good grades.” Jen sometimes just didn’t get Joey Potter. She played with the handle of her hairbrush, and then gently started to brush Joey’s hair. “Come out with me tonight. Worthington have the best parties, better than BU or Harvard, and tonight there’s a mixer.”

“Ooh, a mixer. I can’t wait. Jen, I’ll just die if Tommy the football jock doesn’t invite me to the sock hop,” Joey said in a staccato tone, which made Jen laugh. She and Joey had always rejected the mainstream.

When she had arrived in Capeside, almost four years earlier, fifteen and a prodigal daughter, Joey had been less than sweet to her. Blonde, stylish, a New Yorker and with the male population of Capeside High watching her every move, Jen had been an instant success. But she had hated the false attention from the girls, the chauvinist guys, and the subtle snobbery of the quaint townspeople.

Joey Potter and her friends Pacey Witter and the just-recently-out-of-the-closet Jack McPhee were cut from a different cloth no doubt, but they were her ‘kind’ of people. Honest, funny and with never a dull moment between them, the foursome formed a strange bond throughout high school, Joey eventually warming up to Jen.

Jen and Pacey had tried to fight their initial attraction through sophomore year, but in junior decided just to give in and they started a lengthy, intense relationship, which was threatened when Joey fell for Pacey in senior. Attracted to the sense of security they gave each other (they had known each other since eighth grade) they fell in love, leaving a heartbroken Jen in the dust.

But the security didn’t last. Continually fighting—fighting about Jen, themselves, their lives—the relationship disintegrated by graduation, and during the summer, in a move which surprised everyone, Joey and Jen became friends again—better friends. They were pleased to find out they were going to the same college.

“Rule number one,” Joey had told Jen in the car on the way to Boston, “We do NOT fall for the same guy.”

“Deal.”

Joey closed her book with a defeated sigh as Jen brushed tangles out of Joey’s long, sable-hued hair. “Okay I’ll go.”

“Yay.” Jen hugged her. “We’ll have fun, I promise…and who knows, you might meet a guy who, say, isn’t your teacher.”

“I have class in an hour.” Joey opened her book up again and sneaked a small smile to herself.

****

“Well, look who it is,” Jen crossed her arms and observed Pacey indifferently, a pose akin to Jen’s usual stance.

Pacey got out of his car and walked around the front, his hands jammed in his front jean pocket. He lifted her pink knitted scarf and twirled it around his fingers, smiling directly at her in a way which made Jen squirm. She hoped her jeans-and-light pink sweater combination looked appealing to his eye. It didn’t matter how fucked up things had been between them, she still cared what he thought.

“You look amazing,” he said simply, hugging her, his long tall body bending down to hers. “I love your hair.”

She touched her hair self-consciously. It was now shoulder-length and curly. She looked away from him, playing with the edge of her notebook. He looked good, as usual. Scruffy, hunky… damn him for that. She could still remember the last time they had slept together. Week after graduation. Joey was in Boston at a workshop. She had gone to his place to return some movies, his nightshirt and a meaningful cigarette lighter.

He had been the one to get her to stop smoking. Said if she went without for six months he’d buy her something special. In true Pacey fashion he got her a silver lighter, engraved—‘for my New York girl. Don’t smoke.’ One hug turned into a kiss, one kiss into wild sex on the floor of his room, her blonde curls falling into his brown hair, her pale skin contrasting with his dark skin, her small body fitted perfectly into his large one. Never again, though. Not since then. Joey didn’t know.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him softly. She noticed out of the corner of her eyes Joey walking towards them, clutching books. Uh-oh.

“I came to see my two favorite girls, of course. And to see Boston. I love this city.’ He grinned and flickered a brow. She raised hers. Joey approached them cautiously. “Pacey…hi.”

“Hey.”

The two of them looked at each other, before hugging awkwardly. “What are you doing here?” Joey asked Jen’s question.

Pacey shrugged, “Seeing where you two live, of course. You and my best boy, Jack. Where is he?”

“Fraternizing,” Joey said dryly. “He joined phi zappa zappa monkey-rappa or something.”

Pacey laughed. Jen’s mouth twitched.

“There’s going to be a party tonight,” Joey said, offering him an olive branch. “Mixer. Frat brothers. Cheerleaders. That sort of thing. Want to come?”

Pacey looked surprised at her invitation, but pleased. “Hell yeah. Free beer?”

Jen laughed, “What do you think? And out of boots of cars, too, forget kegs.”

“Then I’m there.”

“I have to go to class.’ Joey hugged Pacey again, a little longer this time. She smiled up at him. “I’ll see you tonight. And you…” she ruffled Jen’s hair fondly.

Jen and Pacey watched Joey go.

“Lets have lunch,” Pacey suggested, brushing his hand down her arm. Jen looked at her watch. “I don’t know…I have class…but…” he looked at her pleadingly. “I can skip,” she finished wryly.

Pacey put an arm around her and they walked off in the direction of the café strip.

****

“I thought Tolstoy wrote an incredibly bleak story,” Joey was saying in class. She spoke clearly, loving to express her opinions on literature. Professor Wilder was looking at her in admiration, and Joey pretended she wasn’t thinking about how cute he was.

“Why?” he asked, captivated, sitting back on his desk.

“Anna was doomed from the start. Vronsky was bad from the start. It was obvious he would abandon her. It’s definitely no love story.” Several students tittered.

And then he spoke. “It’s still a love story…just a tragic one. Not all love stories are hugs and puppies.” People shifted and laughed, including Wilder. Joey raised an eyebrow and turned to see a handsome man with a short, spiky sandy-blond haircut and, sitting in the back, his arms crossed, awaiting her response. His eyes were earnest and innocent—the All-American look. She snorted to herself. He had a strong neck and shoulders, and she assumed he was a football player. What did he know?

“Interesting point, Leery.” Wilder said, looking back at Joey. “What do you think?” it was obvious he wanted a debate. The students in that class hadn’t been heavy on debating lately, not since they’d discussed the book about Lady Cecilia taking a lover—Joey couldn’t remember much about it except the sex had been astonishingly crude for a book written in the early twentieth century.

“I think it’s not a real love story because Vronsky was…a creep, and Anna had extremely bad judgment to leave her children,” she said with a small smile. “He was bound to abandon her. She should have stayed with her husband.”

“And remain in her gilded cage?” the man laughed a little. He obviously liked debating. His eyes sparkled when he spoke, and they ran over her face, making her blush a little. Who did he think he was? Joey thought she had left self-righteous jocks behind in high school. It was as if he could…see right through her.

“If she hadn’t run away with him she’d never have known. Love is all about taking risks.” He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving her.

“Not at the risk of your life, no matter what Shakespeare tells you,” Joey argued. “Better alive and with your family then dead after two months of…love and passion and sex.”

“Two months of sex and love and passion is better than none at all. That’s what makes the story so wonderfully tragic…it was a doomed love. That’s what makes life interesting to lead…and to read. You have to admit, throwing yourself on a railroad track is a pretty spectacular way to go.” Some students murmured in agreement.

“Doomed love has no place in this world,” Joey said softly, with a shrug. Several students nodded, agreeing with her instead.

Joey looked up at Wilder who said with amusement, “The dreamer and the cynic…what a notion.”

The class laughed and Joey blushed a little. The man sat back again, watching her curiously, before taking his eyes off her and looking out the window.

****

“Hey!” a guy was calling to her. Joey was surprised to see the guy with the shoulders catch up to her outside on the green common. Great. Now he’d try to be nice to her.

“Hi.” She said cautiously. They stopped near a maple tree.

“Joey Potter, right? I asked Professor Wilder what your name was…” he looked a bit embarrassed. Joey couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes. And you’re…”

“Dawson. Leery. Dawson Leery.” He held out his hand, and she shook it, noticing he had a nice hand, not a sweaty or wiry one but a warm, slightly papery, slightly smooth hand. In fact everything seemed to be…nice about him. Nice skin, perfect azure eyes, strong jaw, muscled arms and a cute grin, which crept up slowly but surely. She could have written a poem about his body. A flicker of a thought passed her mind and she dropped her head, mortified at herself for imagining him naked. Unknown to her, he was actually thinking along the lines of the same thing. But the aspect of her he was most taken with was her eyes. There was an ocean in them.

They both realized they hadn’t let go of hands at the same moment, and dropped them like hot potato’s, Dawson chuckling, Joey blushing beet-red. Great.

“So…where are you from?” Dawson buttoned his suede jacket, popping the collar up to protect his neck from the cold fall air.

“Capeside,” Joey admitted with a shrug, expecting him not to have heard of it.

“No way.” Dawson, who had been pulling out four quarters to buy himself and her cups of coffee from a vendor stopped in his tracks.

“I was born there. I lived there until I was…about seven.” He dropped the money into the vendor’s hands and ordered two lattes.

“Really?” Joey knew there was something about him. “You know, we were probably in the second grade together. You probably put gum in my hair or something,” she joked.

“And you probably beat me up,” he laughed, handing her a coffee. They walked a bit of a way towards the main hall.

“How did you know I liked lattes?” she asked in surprise, lifting the lid and then putting it back on and taking a sip.

“I don’t know, I just had an intuition,” he shrugged. “So…I liked your argument. Unlike some East Coast daddy’s girls, you obviously have a brain, and have obviously cracked a book.”

Joey had looked away at the mention of ‘daddy’s girls’ but had smiled at the book comment, thinking about hurriedly plowing through Anna Karenina last night. Not an easy chore considering it was about 800 pages. And thinking how weird it was—she had thought the same thing about him.

“Do you really believe in doomed love?” she asked him as they neared the entrance to her dorm.

“I believe in all sorts of love.”

“Do you speak the language of soul mates and moons and stars?” she asked exaggeratingly.

“Of course. I believe there’s someone out there for everyone. But you’ve got to have fun on the way.” He waggled his brows and Joey giggled.

“This was…” Joey searched for the words.

“Interesting?” he said for her, and she nodded. “Yes.”

“Here…” Dawson looked around, and then quickly picked a white rose off a well-regarded rosebush and handed it to her. “For a smart young woman. See you around.” He waved, and then backed off, turning around at the last minute. Joey tucked the flower into her binder.

****

That night, Joey tucked the rose behind her ear, and turned twice in front of the closet mirror Jen had stuck on the second day of classes.

She was wearing jeans and a stretchy knit black top and black pointed boots. Her hair was slightly wavy and freshly washed. Jen admired from the vanity mirror, where she was applying her mascara.

“Nice…”

“Where were you this afternoon?” Joey asked curiously, sitting down on her bed and watching Jen.

“Class,” Jen said incredulously.

“We usually meet for coffee in Barnes and Nobles on Fridays,” Joey pointed out. “You didn’t show.”

Jen stood up and tightened the belt on her jeans. “Oh shit, I forgot. I’m so sorry…”

“Its okay…what were you doing?”

“What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” Jen said playfully, taking off her blue sweater and putting on a lacy black blouse.

“No…I’m just…curious, is all.” Joey looked nonchalant as she stuck her keys in her jeans pocket.

“Were…you with Pacey?”

“Yes, Jo, but not what you think,” Jen said quickly, applying lip gloss with her little finger.

“I didn’t think,” Joey reassured her. “Really.” She turned around to hide her face. A flicker of jealousy and hurt was hidden from Jen.

“We just talked. Things needed to be said.”

Joey and Jen nodded together, a mutual agreement hanging in the air.

****

The party was huge, spreading out over the commons to the front lawn of the biggest frat house at the college where Jack was.

After getting beer from some guys at the front, Joey, Pacey and Jen walked into the house to meet up with Jack. Jack was playing pool with a couple of the brothers, and was overjoyed to see his old friends.

“Joey, Jen, if I wasn’t attracted to Pacey I’d be all over you,” he said, obviously tipsy. Pacey just laughed. “You don’t have a chance.”

“What about with this guy?’ Jack pulled a guy over by the arm sleeve, and Joey was surprised to find herself feeling happy to see Dawson, a wry smile, a cup of beer in his hand.

“You hit on me at every party, Jack. It’s not going to happen.” Dawson reminded him. He then focused on Joey, and visibly brightened, then focused on Jen and his jaw dropped.

“Lindley.”

“Leery,” they eyed each other suspiciously, before hugging quickly.

“I always knew I’d run into you again,” Dawson said with a shake of his head.

“You two…know each other?” Joey asked tentatively.

“I can’t believe you know Joey, Jen, and you know Jen, Joey…” Dawson looked between the two girls. Jack laughed, amused. “Their names both start with J.”

Jen punched him lightly in the shoulder.

“Joey here is my best friend. Joey…Pacey…Jack…Dawson here is an old friend. Okay, old…boyfriend.”

Both Pacey and Joey looked up.

“Boyfriend?” Joey repeated, feeling unfair twinges of jealousy.

“Yeah…sorta. In New York.” Jen and Dawson both looked embarrassed but terribly pleased to see each other. Something was up.

****

“He’s the guy my parents caught me in bed with,” Jen admitted to Joey a little while later while they were filling up their cups.

“No way.” Joey filled her cup up to the brim accidentally, then just left it.

“Yes…we had this…sex thing. It didn’t last for long, but we liked each other.” Jen looked at Joey curiously. “How do you know him?”

“We…met in class. He brought me coffee. Latte.” Joey laughed a bit and then sipped her beer. She hated beer, but she was thirsty.

“He was always such a smooth talker,” Jen smiled. Joey felt a little irritated. “Little Lies” by Fleetwood Mac was blasted over the speakers, one of Joey’s favorite old songs. She tapped her cup in tune with the music and drank from it often, watching Jen and Dawson talk and shove each other. Pacey was across the room with Jack.

A tall dark-haired guy from her lit class approached her. “I liked your argument this morning,” he said off-handedly, reaching over her to grab a cup. He then poured into it a clear liquid from a silver flask. Joey eyed it curiously. “What is that, Jake?”

“Vodka.” He clinked cups with her.

“Classier than beer.”

“Classier, huh?”

“Way.”

“Give me some.”

“Okay.” He suddenly looked a little more interested. She accepted the drink, and then considered a getaway. It was no secret Jake liked her. But she wasn’t *that* drunk. She looked away as he started talking to her---about Wilder, about Anna Karenin, whatever…and she caught Dawson’s eyes on a crescendo. He was looking at her. She looked at him. And in that short moment, it felt like the longest moment of her life.

TO BE CONTINUED Run Like Mad Part two _______________________________________________________________________

After looking over a few times during his conversation with Jen, a hyper active Jack and the brooding-Pacey who was skeptical and curious about him, Dawson excused himself. He went over to the keg to fill his cup again, and Joey watched out of the corner of her eye as Jake tried to make small talk. Jake’s friend Charlie from Boston Bay then edged his way into their vicinity, not liking how his rival was talking up one of the cutest girls in the room. Dawson rolled his eyes. Great, two guys in his way. Joey was looking bored out of her brain, though, and kept sneaking looks at him. Whatever.

Dawson walked back to Pacey and Jen. Pacey Witter. Dawson frowned thoughtfully, then he said cautiously, “Do you have four sisters and one brother?”

Pacey’s cup stopped halfway to his mouth. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right. We’ve met, then. My parents were friends with your parents. We were small, frog-collecting brats.’

Pacey managed to crack a small smile. Dawson shrugged. Whatever. He had tried. Pacey obviously hated his guts. He was getting a very territorial vibe from him. Jen was saying, “I can’t believe you used to live in Capeside. That is just too weird. Almost… incestuous. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were all related…”

“Well, hey, small town, we all shared the same water…” Dawson cracked.

“Hey guys.” Joey said quickly and breathlessly, holding her drink tightly she sighed, “Have they gone yet?”

The three looked behind her. Charlie and Jake were wandering towards a small group of girls on the couch.

“Yes,” Jen flickered her brow. “What was that all about?”

“Why didn’t you save me?” Joey asked incredulously, “I gave you the ‘save me’ sign at least a dozen times.”

“I’m sorry,” Jen said, looking flustered, “I thought you liked Charlie. I know you don’t like Jake, but....”

“They’re both Ted Bundy advocates,” Joey said dryly.

Jen giggled. Joey smiled, letting her know she was forgiven. Pacey put an arm around Joey and his other around Jen, looking up at Dawson as if to challenge him, but in a friendlier, warmer way than say if another guy had done it. “These two girls are incredibly picky about their men,” he joked. Dawson could believe that.

Dawson and Joey found themselves looking at one another. Warning bells went off in Joey’s head. She had to make a getaway. “Jen? Come with me to the bathroom?” she hopped out from under Pacey’s arm.

That was code for, “We need to talk?” Jen narrowed her eyes a little but followed Joey anyway, calling behind her, “We’ll be back in a few.” Pacey and Dawson stood together for a moment in silence. Pacey then said, “So…we were on the junior softball team together, weren’t we?”

“Yeah.” If all else fails, reminence. But Pacey wanted to talk about more than that.

“You dated Jen?” he asked casually.

“For a really short while.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about what happened…”

“Yeah, so did the entire upper east side.” Dawson laughed.

“Oh, okay.”

Dawson knew that look. “Look, I’m not into her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said quietly. Pacey actually looked embarrassed, and a little surprised. “No—I uh, wasn’t…”

“I’d be acting the same way,” Dawson reassured him.

“Do you guys have a history?”

“Sort of,” Pacey admitted. “I actually have more of a history with Joey.”

“Oh, right.” Dawson realized his cup was empty. Damn.

“Are you guys…a thing?”

“I have no idea.’ Pacey spread his hands out. “I shouldn’t be telling a virtual stranger this, but our love lives are so fucked up its not even funny.”

“I know where you’re coming from…” Dawson said dryly.

Pacey grabbed his cup. “Forget this cup crap. There’s bottles in the kitchen, I saw them. Come on.”

****

“What’s your deal?” Jen closed the door behind her.

“Nothing. I just think I’ve had too much to drink,” Joey moaned, slumping against the bathroom wall and then getting up and turning on the sink water.

Jen sighed and locked the door as some girls started to bang. She yelled, “Bugger off!”

“How much?”

“One beer, one cup of vodka mixed with lemon.”

Jen snorted, “That’s a real doozy there,” she was silenced with a look from Joey.

“I’m all hot,’ Joey sighed, splashing water onto her neck. “I don’t know why…”

“He does that to you,” Jen smiled knowingly.

“Who?”

“Dawson…the latte guy, the guy who has been looking at you all night.”

Joey blushed but managed to scoff, “Whatever, Jen…”

“You know I’m kidding.” Jen sat down on the closed toilet lid. “But he gave me that reaction.”

She leaned on her hand and smiled wistfully, “There’s just something about him. He’s not cute by Seventeen Magazine standard, but he’s still so attractive…”

“Confidence, intelligence…” Joey interrupted with a light shrug of her right shoulder. “He has it. I find him… condescending.’ She turned her back on Jen and started to run her fingers though her hair. “A little. But there is something…nice about him.” She smiled, and Jen said archly, “There sure is.” “Jen...” Joey opened the bathroom door and three girls ran in, pushing Jen and Joey out.

Jen rubbed her shoulder, pissed. “Boston Bay girls,” she muttered.

****

It was close to midnight when he saw her again, near the stairs, cornered by Charlie, an infamous Boston Bay playboy. He didn’t hesitate this time. ‘strike while the iron is hot…’

“Hey there,” he said casually, holding his beer at a small angle, eyeing Charlie suspiciously. “Boston Bay, right?”

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded, but his eyes were disinterested and weary. “That’s right.”

Dawson snorted a little, “So what are you doing at a Worthington party?” he then stared, as if he was waiting for something. Joey looked between the two men, intrigued. Charlie glared at Dawson, and then he picked up his beer bottle and walked off.

Joey smiled to herself, then took a sip of her drink and eyed Dawson. “You did that on purpose.”

“Yeah, I did, I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, ducking his head. “I wanted to talk to you again. Alone.”

Shivers went down Joey’s back, a weird sensation Joey wasn’t expecting.

“I guess…um, what I’m trying to say is…”

Joey waited, her breath slowing down.

“I like you.” Joey blushed.

“Oh…” she noticed her skin was slowly turning pink. “Okay…”

“I know this is weird,’ Dawson took a quick drink of his beer and laughed nervously. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this to someone I met earlier on today. Someone who is best friends with…” he hesitated. “With an ex-girlfriend.”

“An ex-girlfriend you were caught in bed with,” Joey blurted out. Dawson looked mortified. Joey giggled, and his face relaxed some.

“I don’t care.” She said softly. They were standing close, too close, and too far from public. The alcove under the stairs was dark and alluring.

She then looked up into his calm, intoxicating blue eyes and reached up to kiss him, gently, softly, their mouths barely touching, just brushing against each other.

And of course, it wasn’t enough.

A slow kiss turned more explorative, and then frantic, as if they were trying to suck as much breath from each other as possible with desperate, open- mouthed kisses. His hands glided from her ribcage to the small of her back and then up again. She tried to find a resting place on his body, eventually landing her hands on his neck as their mouths found each other in the semi-darkness of the stairs. They nearly lost their footing and landed against each other against the wall, still kissing, shocked at themselves for doing this but not shocked enough to stop.

**** “He’s kinda cool,” Pacey admitted to Jen, sampling a slice of warm pizza. Jack danced by, shirtless. Jen patted Jacks butt and then Pacey’s. He laughed and tweaked her nose.

“He is kinda cool. He used to be…well, less ‘cool.’ I always liked him, though. When he turned fifteen he just changed. It was the weirdest thing. But…well, his dad died, so…” Jen trailed off and Pacey shook his head, “That sucks.”

“Yeah…it was tough. He acted out. He did drugs, he had sex too young, and he got in fights…” Jen frowned at the memory. “We were safe havens to each other, but in the end we were just making each other worse.”

“So your parents sent you away…” Pacey finished, popping a handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“Hmm.” Jen nodded.

“I still remember the day you came to Capeside High…that green sweater…those eyes…that hair…’ he lifted a strand of her hair and she nudged him. “Hey.”

“You were way too good for me. Still are.’ “That’s bullshit.” “No its not. You were perfect, and every guy wanted you, but you wanted me, and you changed my life.”

“Is this the beer talking?” Jen took his beer bottle out of his hand and put it on a table.

“And I screwed it up…” Pacey ignored the fact she had taken his beer. He wrapped his arms around her small waist and buried his face in her hair. Surprised, Jen tried to ease out of his embrace but he held on tight.

“And lately I’ve been thinking all I want to do is sleep with you again…” he lifted his head and stared at her. Jen stared back, her eyebrows raised. “Huh?”

He kissed her. For a few moments she struggled, then she kissed back…god he was a good kisser—but reality came knocking and she pushed him away. “Stop, Pacey, you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not.” A beat as he realized he couldn’t stand. “Okay, maybe I am…” he hiccupped, “A little.”

“You know you get the hiccups when you drink too much,” Jen scolded him. “And you say stuff you will regret tomorrow.”

“Take me home.”

“You live two hours away. I’m taking you to my dorm…’ Jen ushered to Jack. “Help me bring Mr. Drink here back to my room.”

“Pacey could never keep his alcohol,” Jack said as he winced and Pacey leaned on his shoulder, “Its kind of funny, actually.”

“No, its not,” Jen said as they walked slowly to the front door of the frat house.

****

Pacey woke with a blinding headache in an uncomfortable position in a small bed. Something soft was pressed right up against him, like…well, like a human. Uh-oh.

His eyes managed to open despite the stubbornness of his brain and he saw he was lying next to Jen. She was clothed, thank god, in a soft pink nightshirt. As he moved, however, his hands brushed against her breasts and he jumped. His pants were still on, and his shirt lay on the floor. His eyes roved over the room, past Joey’s empty bed. She must have left for classes already… at 7am? He shrugged and lay back down. Whatever.

He couldn’t move.

Jen’s naked thigh was right next to his and he was getting the biggest hard-on. Maybe he should move.

Jen’s eyes opened and she smiled sleepily at him. “Morning.”

“Morning. Did I yak?” “No. You just fell asleep.” “No…funny business?” “No…’ Jen looked away, and then turned back to him. “You did hit on me.” “I did?”

“Yeah. It was charmingly sleazy.”

They smiled at each other. He’d forgotten how pretty she looked in the morning.

“You look pretty in the morning,” he told her.

Jen looked down and smiled.

She then sat up. “I’m…going to take a shower.” She got out of bed and walked across to the bathroom, grabbing her robe along the way.

Before she closed the door she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am too.”

****

Wow. Was this…love? Joey thought she knew what love was, but this was different. This was exciting, new, passionate, searing…and comfortable.

Joey watched Dawson sleep with adoration, now and then reaching over to touch his face.

They hadn’t had sex. The kiss had been pretty forward, but they weren’t *that* forward.

They had just talked all night. About everything. About their desires and their dreams. She knew it sounded completely corny, but…she had never, ever talked to someone like this. Not Jen, not Pacey. After making out for what was a good hour, they had decided to sober up and get something to eat. They had shared a pizza slice at a place that was open until 3am. When it closed, they went back to his dorm and she shared his bed and they talked. For some strange reason, climbing into bed with him felt like the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t even put a move on her. Unspoken was their evening.

It was like he knew her, like he sensed her feelings. They teased each other-- He called her, ‘poor, cynical Joey’ she told him to get his head out of the clouds. They had coffee, and they lay in bed together all morning.