I steal a glance at you, and save it up for later
You see what I've come to? I really should know better...
I lie awake at night to savour every moment
I'm hoping that you might know where this is going
And I can't help myself, help myself
I'm lost in you
I can't help myself, help myself
I'm lost in you

***

"… I'm actually on my way there right now, if you'd like to check things out yourself." The connection on her cell phone was breaking up, making her words sound choppy. It was Dee, the interior decorator who's been working on Pacey's apartment with me. She'd just been to a furniture store in the Village purchasing something for his place and was on her way uptown.

I suppress the tiny flutter that stirs in my stomach. "That's okay, Dee. I'm sure everything's going great. I'll talk to you later." I hang up before I can change my mind and lean back in my chair, opening the drawer in my desk to stare at the single silver key inside.

It's been two weeks since I had gone to Pacey's apartment for the first time, and construction was already in full swing. The walls were painted, the bathrooms were done, and Dee had begun to buy the furniture that we needed to put in this week. I'd been resisting the urge to go back.

He had called me the day after he returned the blueprints, perfectly formal and polite. We discussed the apartment. It was over in ten minutes.

I push the drawer back in place with a little too much force. It makes a loud thudding sound, and I wish I could bang my head against the desk to stop myself from thinking like this. What on earth is wrong with me?

"What was that?" Lauren appears, a concerned expression on her face.

I look up at her sheepishly. "Nothing." I turn back to my desk and search for something to do.

"Joey? Is something wrong?"

I sigh heavily and lean my forehead against my hands, hating the fact that he has this much power over my ability to concentrate. "Is it that obvious?"

Lauren makes a funny little sound and sits on the chair on the other side of the table. She smiles at me expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay," I laugh. "Might as well get it off my chest." I sit back and stare into the distance, wondering how to say it. "Say, for example, that there's this guy."

Her eyebrow raises even more and her smile widens, causing me to laugh again before continuing. "This guy who basically let you know, when you were both still in high school, that he had certain… feelings for you." I swivel in my chair to look out the window. For some reason, my chest feels heavy.

"But you couldn't really reciprocate at the time." I have to swallow to keep my voice from breaking.

"So you basically dumped him." Lauren adds helpfully.

I sigh again. "I guess you could say that. And you and… this guy… go on with your lives… until one day you run into each other again. Only this time, everything is different."

She stays quiet, waiting for me to go on.

"And you have no idea what to do around him because you're still worried that he hates you for something you did in high school, but - to make things even more annoying - you can't get him out of your head." I say all this in a rush, letting out all the frustration of the past two weeks.

Nothing follows but silence. I shift in my seat after a few minutes, anxious to hear what she has to say.

"Lauren? What?"

"You know what you need?" She begins slowly.

"What?"

"Closure. To get him out of your head." She pauses. "That is what you want, isn't it?"

I stare at her dumbly for a second, my brows knitting in thought. "Of course. Yes. That's what I want."

The telephone rings, making me jump. Lauren picks it up and answers before handing it over to me. "Jen Lindley," she says before walking out quietly.

"Hello?" It takes a while for Jen's voice to register.

I clear my throat and straighten in my seat. "Jen. What's up?"

"Hey, Joey, you free for lunch today?" She sounds upbeat, perky even.

"Yes," I say doubtfully. "Why?"

"I need to talk to you. Can you meet me?"

"Why don't you come over and we can talk here? I'll order in."

"Nope. Can't. What I need to talk to you about is best left discussed in an area where there's little or no chance of anyone I know overhearing us. Seriously. Just meet me, okay? 1:30."

She names an Upper West Side restaurant we both like and hangs up before I can say anything else, and all I can think is that Jen Lindley has finally gotten up the nerve to talk to a certain NYU teacher we'd discussed.

I smile to myself as I grab my purse on my way out of the office.

***

The maitre'd smiles at me in recognition. "Ms. Potter. The table that Ms. Lindley has reserved is right this way." He takes a slender black menu and leads me towards a table for two.

"Thank you, James." I tell him as he leaves me with the menu. I put it aside and settle back into my chair to make a quick scan through the crowd. Jen and I love coming here because it's an out of the way place that few of the people we know ever frequent. It's upscale and elegant without being too fancy or snotty, and they serve a fantastic seafood pasta. There's also this great little bakery next door that makes unbelievably delicious banana nut pudding.

I'm just about to order something to drink when someone at the entrance catches my eye. Pacey. Damn. I look away quickly as mortification sinks in, wishing he hadn't seen me. There's nothing worse than someone you know seeing you sitting at a table in a restaurant, alone.

"Ms. Potter," the maitre'd says, forcing me to lift my head. Pacey is standing behind him with a rueful expression on his face. "Your companion has arrived."

"Oh, but - "

"It's a set-up, Joey." Pacey interrupts my protest, taking the seat across the table. "You were supposed to meet Jen, right?"

I close my mouth and nod as James leaves us. My mind is scrambling to come up with something to say. Jen is going to get such an earful from me…

"I'm kind of hurt, actually." Pacey begins lightly, reading through the menu. "I cancelled a lunch meeting just so Jen and I could finally see each other again, and she goes and does this."

I can actually feel heat beginning to rise to my head. "I know what you mean," I reply sweetly. "There are so many other things that one could be doing with her - or his - " I add pointedly, "time instead of having to sit through what should be a perfectly nice meal with an impossibly aggravating companion, isn't there?" I flash him the most charming smile I can muster.

He puts down the menu and calls the attention of a waiter. "Of course. I know I'd rather be at the dentist getting a tooth pulled," he mutters. "Or maybe in an African jungle, fighting off alligators."

His comment sends a mild slash of remorse through me, and suddenly I feel ashamed about lashing out at him like that. I take a deep breath while I remind myself that this isn't his fault.

"But seeing as I'm already here and starving," Pacey continues, "I fully intend to have a nice, peaceful meal." He looks at me and waits for a response as our waiter approaches.

"What's it going to be, Potter?" The last word steals my breath and makes me feel like I've been punched in the stomach. "Are you staying or going?"

I look resentfully at his expectant expression and rest my hands on the table, straightening stubbornly in my chair. "I'd like the seafood pasta, please." I tell the waiter through clenched teeth. "And a glass of the strongest white wine that you have."

Pacey adds his order before the waiter leaves. And then we're alone again, him with an amused expression on his face.

"So, do you and Jen come here often?" He smiles easily, as if we were two old friends catching up. Which we were, in a way, but damn, this is frustrating. Why do my insides always get jumbled up whenever he's around?

"Yes." I fiddle with the silverware lain out beside the plate in front of me.

He chuckles and sits back, his penetrating gaze on me. "I was right." He says. "You haven't changed. I see the temperament is still there. Surprising, since you are with Dawson Leery, but - "

Is he goading me on purpose? "Listen, Pa-" I stop myself before blurting it out.

His expression changes. He looks nearly as shocked as I am that I almost called him Pacey, but quickly recovers and smiles easily again. I wonder how long it's been since anyone called him that?

"You know, if anything, I'm the one who has the right to be mad here." He says it quietly, but I hear a tinge of seriousness in his voice that squeezes at my chest.

I inhale slowly and stare at the pristine white tablecloth. I don't know what to say.

"What, did I just make Joey Potter speechless?" He teases. "Come on, Jo." He reaches across the table and touches my hand lightly, briefly, but enough to cause my insides to start swirling uncontrollably again. "Can we at least forget about all that history for a couple of hours? Have a decent lunch, make small talk? We could plot revenge on Jen."

That makes me laugh a little.

"Good," he says in satisfaction. "It would've been too devastating if this whole restaurant had witnessed a beautiful woman walking out on me. Bad for the image, you know."

I can't help but laugh aloud.

He smiles back widely and winks.

I stop and look at him seriously for a few seconds. "I'm sorry."

He nods and looks away just as our food arrives. We both stay silent as the waiter places our orders before us and then leaves.

"So," Pacey resumes, "how is the apartment going?"

Business again. Funny how he does that. "Great," I reply enthusiastically. "Dee - she's the interior decorator I'm working with on your place - started buying furniture this week. She was just there today. We should be done soon."

He nods. "I haven't seen it since we looked around the other week. How does it look?"

Shit. "Uhm," I concentrate on twirling my fork in my pasta. "Actually, I… hear that it looks fantastic." The exaggeration rushes out of my mouth.

He pauses and looks at me, smiling. "You haven't seen it either, have you?"

"Well, no, but I was planning to do that this week." I lie. "It's just that things have been so busy at work that I - "

Pacey grins, shaking his head. "Say no more. It's fine."

We continue the meal in a silence that's not exactly uncomfortable, but I spend most of the time with questions that I want to ask him just waiting to burst out. Several times I almost let them, only to hurriedly snap my lips shut.

A precarious truce seems to have been called between us, and I'd rather not jeopardize it by discussing things that could end up opening old wounds.

"So," I begin awkwardly as we stand in the warm midday sun after lunch. He had insisted on paying, despite my best efforts to convince him that I was actually earning enough to be able to afford it.

"So." He says as well, his blue eyes squinting a little as he looks at me in the bright light of late spring. He's got his hands in the pockets of his charcoal gray pants, his shirt sleeves rolled up his forearm. He still has a tie on but hadn't brought a jacket.

I tuck a lock of hair behind one ear - a nervous habit - and look back at him uncertainly. "You probably need to get back to your office… "

"I think I'd like to check out the apartment." He declares on impulse. "Would you like to join me?"

I smile up at him. "Yes."

"It's a few blocks' walk, do you mind? I'd kind of like to enjoy all this sun." He grins.

I nod in agreement, thankful that I had worn low-heeled mules today. "That sounds like a good idea."

Pacey offers me his arm and I hesitate for only a fraction of a second before tucking my hand into it, ignoring the riot going on inside me. Things were so much easier when I only had to hate him.

"I love New York," he starts conversationally as we begin to walk. "You can be anyone you want to be here."

I glance at him quickly, the obvious question at the tip of my tongue.

He catches me and smiles. "I know what you want to ask me, Joey. Go ahead."

I smile back, my eyebrows quirking, and decide to take the indirect route. "How did you come up with Nicholas Shafer?"

"I saw it in one of those cheesy romance novels. Just thought it sounded cool."

I look at him open-mouthed. "No, you didn't!"

He laughs. "You're right, I didn't. I don't know, it just popped into my head. And it sounded like something you could take more seriously than Pacey Witter."

"That's not true," I shake my head.

"You mean you can't take the name 'Nicholas Shafer' seriously?" We stop in the middle of the sidewalk as he gives me an indignant look.

I laugh. It's nice to have him tease me like that. Again. "No, I meant that Pacey Witter is a perfectly nice name."

He makes a doubtful sound, but thanks me after a few seconds.

"We kept asking Doug where you were, you know," I venture quietly. "He must've come this close to threatening me and Jen with bodily harm if we didn't stop pestering him." I go on when he says nothing. "Do they know?"

"Dougie does," he answers after a while. "And so does Gretchen. But they knew I didn't want anyone else to know."

The last part of his reply stings a little. I make myself smile at him anyway. "So you just wanted this whole new secret life all to yourself, huh?"

"It wasn't secret, Joey. I just used a different name, lost contact with some people."

Lost or severed? I'd taken my hand from his arm moments ago, and now we just walk side by side. "What was law school like?" I ask cheerfully, my eyes on the concrete of the sidewalk underneath us.

"A huge pain in the neck." He replies quickly, joking again. "For me and my professors. But apparently, I have a knack for it, since I can somehow talk my way out of anything." He grins.

We'd gotten to his apartment building by now, and the doorman smiles at us in greeting as we proceed to the elevators. For a split second I'm worried that we would run into his mannequin and she would threaten to pull all my hair out, but we get up to the twelfth floor pretty quickly, and without incident.

He pulls a key ring out of his pocket and unlocks the door. The apartment looks very different from when we were last here, together, and we walk around to inspect it. Everything is basically done, wooden floors polished until they shone smoothly, walls painted in the muted shades he had chosen. It only needed furniture.

"What was it like studying interior design?" Pacey's voice echoes in the hollow rooms of the huge apartment.

"I liked it, actually, even if it was far away from Capeside. It was nice having Jen here with me." The words are out before I even realize what I said.

I catch him looking at me oddly. I had forgotten that he thought Dawson and I are still together.

"He went to California," I explain, moving into another room and leaving him in the kitchen. I didn't feel like saying anything else. Maybe another time. Or when he asks.

What else could I say? It hadn't worked out? I guess I made the wrong choice? I found out, after everything, that he wasn't my sou - I can't even say the word anymore.

We go back down to ground level without saying another word, then stop just outside the entrance to the building, looking at each other. His office is that way, mine is this way. My lunch break had ended hours ago.

"This was nice," he finally says, his hands in his pockets again.

I nod and smile a little. "Thank you for lunch."

"Thanks for my apartment," he gestures toward the building. "It looks great."

"Well…" We smile hesitantly at each other. "I should go."

"Yeah," he nods. "I'll see you."

"See you." It takes a little effort for me to turn and start walking. I sneak a glance behind me after a few steps to find him walking the other way.

I decide to take a cab back to the office after walking a few blocks, unable to keep a silly grin off my face.

"Good lunch?" Lauren smiles when she sees me.

"Yes," I walk straight into my office. She follows me with several pieces of paper in her hand.

"Got some messages for you."

"Shoot." I say to her as I sit in my chair.

She gives me a weird look after hearing the new expression. "Jen Lindley called. She said you shouldn't plot her untimely demise until you've told her every last detail." Lauren smiles in amusement. "Oh, and someone else called - he said he went to high school with you."

I freeze. "Who?"

"Dawson Leery."