***

The shrill ring of the telephone almost makes me jump out of my skin. I stop in my tracks to stare suspiciously at the source of the interference. I was in the process of wearing a hole through the floor, pacing back and forth in my living room in a fit of nervous agitation.

The phone rings again. Adrenaline begins to pound slowly in my ears as I frantically try to decide whether to let the machine pick up or get up enough guts to deal with the person that I am afraid is on the other side of that line.

I hadn't called him back, and I wasn't sure if he had my home number, but for some reason I was having this irrational reaction to that one minor event. Why had he called? What was I going to say?

I don't even want to talk to him anymore. I wish Lauren hadn't told me that he called, that way I wouldn't have to dread hearing the phone ring.

It rings for the third time. Dammit. What the hell. I grab the phone and hold it against my ear, realizing that I had been holding my breath only when I try to say hello and nothing comes out.

"Joey?"

Relief pours through me like a salve. "Jen."

"Okay, I know that you must be dying to wring my neck or subject me to some other form of brutal and humiliating punishment, but - "

I laugh. She doesn't know how happy I am to hear her voice. "What are you talking about?"

She pauses, obviously surprised. "Lunch. Pacey. You didn't call me back this afternoon, which naturally led me to assume that you hate me. I wouldn't blame you." I could hear the humor in her voice, and only the tiniest bit of remorse.

"Well, I do." I say, matter-of-fact.

"Okay, but you have to at least tell me what happened before never speaking to me again for the rest of your life. How was it?"

"Hmm," I hedge, keeping her in suspense. "It was… nice."

"Nice? That's all you can say? I set you up for lunch with a smart, funny, good-looking, rich guy and all you can say is that it was nice?"

My eyes roll heavenward. I can't keep the smile off my face. "We had fun, okay? We went to his apartment afterward."

"Oh my fu-"

"Stop. We went to his new apartment. You know, the one I helped design? It doesn't even have any furniture yet. We just checked it out."

"How was the floor? Sturdy? Durable? Stain-proof? Cold?"

I laugh. "Shut up."

She laughs too. "Good. Now, since I did miss out on having lunch with the two of you, not to mention the fact that I know I owe you big time for this, I'd like to treat us all out to lunch tomorrow."

"Oh, no -" I protest, smelling another set-up.

"It'll be all three of us, Joey. You can personally hunt me down and hang me by my ankles if I don't show up. Promise."

"Okay," I answer slowly, "but I swear, Jen, if you do this again, I really will hang you by your ankles."

"Point taken." Jen says mock-seriously before saying goodbye.

The phone hadn't been back in its cradle for two seconds when it rings again. I grab it, smiling. "Jen -"

"Hi, Joey."

I suddenly feel light-headed. "Dawson. Hi."

"How're you doing?"

"Fine." I flop back onto the couch and resist the urge to sigh. "What about you?"

"Pretty good. God, how long has it been? It's nice to hear your voice again."

I stare at the wall on the opposite side of the room. I have no idea what to say. "About… a few years." I say weakly, answering his question and ignoring the last part of his reply.

Everything inside me is strangely… numb. Like it hasn't completely sunk in that I was talking to Dawson Leery.

"So," he breaks the awkward silence that he's probably dreading as much as I am. "Have you gotten the invitation? Can you believe it's been ten years since we graduated from high school?"

The reunion. I'd almost forgotten about it. "Yes, I got the invitation. Jen got one, too. Are you going?" I add the last sentence to try to make polite small talk.

Dawson laughs a little. "As sickeningly traditional and trite as it may sound," he begins in his patented multi-syllabic way, "yes. I do intend to go. And since all this warm Los Angeles sun seems to be getting to me, I thought I'd pass through New York first. See the big city before heading off to Capeside. I've got something I need to tell you."

Suddenly I feel like I'm coming down with a headache, the blissful numbness of the past few minutes rapidly fading away.

"Oh!" The exclamation is out before I can stop it, betraying the genuine shock that I feel. "Umm…"

"Listen, I know it must seem awkward, but I promise you, Joey, I'm not expecting anything, okay? I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about it. And I promise, I won't act like a pesky ex-boyfriend who just can't seem to let go…" he pauses. "Because for all intents and purposes I think I have. I'll just be your good old childhood friend Dawson. The one who used to live across the creek."

"Are you going to row all the way here?" I joke, desperate to change the subject.

He laughs ruefully. "I left my boat in Capeside."

To my own incredulity, I find myself chewing on my lower lip, my index finger tangled tightly in the phone cord. "Dawson…"

He cuts in before I can finish. "Joey, I have to go. They're having some editing problems… I'll just -"

"You mean they actually let you do stuff?"

"Ha, ha." He chuckles.

"I don't think you should come to New York."

"What?"

Oddly enough, after beginning it takes less effort for me to go on. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Dawson… I'll be… kind of busy."

"Why not?" He asks quietly. Then adds, "I promise my big Hollywood head won't get in your way."

That forces a reluctant laugh out of me. I stand up from the couch and walk to the window to stare out at the early evening lights of the city. "It's… I mean, you can come to New York, of course. I can't keep you from doing that. I just don't think it would be a good idea for us to see each other."

He is silent for a few minutes before letting out a long sigh. "Alright, if that's what you want."

Outside my apartment, cars honk impatiently and people walk briskly up and down the sidewalks, heading home. While everything inside, everything around me, is quiet. Still. "Yes. That's what I want."

"Bye, Joey."

"Thank you, Dawson."

I hold the phone to my chest long after he hangs up, transfixed by all that's going on in the world outside, the normalcy of it.

What was he going to tell me?

(End of Chapter 7, Part I)

Part II

***

The sounds of a small commotion outside causes me to stop sketching and look towards the office door seconds before it flies open, yielding a grinning Pacey Witter and a very flustered-looking Lauren Graves.

"Good morning, Ms. Potter. So sorry to interrupt. Your lovely assistant here has informed me that you are occupied at the moment, but I think I managed to convince her that you like surprises, and, this being a surprise, it would be better if she let me come in unannounced." Pacey says all this with a twinkle in his eye, Lauren standing beside him with a helpless look on her face.

She flashes me a resigned smile, wiggles her eyebrows mischievously and winks before closing the door behind her.

Pacey tilts his head to one side and studies me earnestly. "I don't think she believed me when I told her I was a client."

The smile that had been threatening to take over my face turns into a full-blown laugh. "I think she likes you."

He begins to walk closer, taking slow, thoughtful steps and still looking mock-serious. I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. "Really? Because it definitely seemed like she was ready to call security to have me thrown out of the building. My pride is mortally wounded."

"Would it help if I told you that at this very minute, all of the women in this building are probably already aware that Nicholas Shafer is in here?" I place my pencil carefully on the desk and lean back, watching with a strange feeling of shyness as he takes a leisurely tour around my office, inspecting and touching everything with the wonder of a six year-old on his very first trip to a toy store.

Stopping at a shelf filled with books and an assortment of other accumulated things, he glances at me with a grin and an upturned brow. "A little." He picks up a framed picture of Bodie, Bessie, Alexander and Samantha by the creek, on the front lawn of the B&B. "How are they?"

I smile and look away, fondly remembering my last phone call to Bessie. "Good. That's Samantha, Alexander's little sister. She'll be four in June, and she already bosses her big brother around."

Pacey chuckles. "Takes after her Aunt Joey, apparently."

I look quickly at him, a little surprised and heartened by the personal turn our conversation has taken. He feels it too, and puts the picture back on the shelf before straightening and turning back to me with a slight frown on his face.

"Jen just called me." He says. "She told me she'd like to take us out to lunch." The grin begins to form on his lips again. "And since she owes us a little something for the… misunderstanding that happened the last time we arranged to meet, I thought we could… surprise her." He walks closer and closer, stopping just in front of me. "But I need your help, so let's go."

Pacey grabs my hand and pulls me up out of my chair. I don't even have time to get my purse before we're already at the door.

"Pacey, wait!"

He stops, causing me to almost bump into him. He looks back at me with an odd expression on his face.

"Sorry," I apologize quickly, not quite sure if he's angry or something else. Not quite sure of anything concerning him. His hand loosens around mine and I pull it back to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "I forgot. I won't do it again."

"No," he shakes his head, a smile lighting up his eyes and coloring them bright blue. "It's okay. You can call me that. As long as you don't let anybody else hear you doing it," he teases and takes my hand again. "Now, let's go. We're late."

He pulls me out the door before I can form another protest. His warm, callused hand is wrapped securely around mine as we walk through the office, Lauren's bewildered smile fixed on us as I call out that I'll be back in a little while. Pacey guides us purposefully towards the elevator while the curious stares from my women co-workers causes me to blush to the roots of my hair.

"Where are we going?" I ask, laughing, when the two of us are alone in the elevator.

"Downtown. Today, we're playing the matchmakers."

"Oh no," I cover the smile on my face with my hand. "She told you about that teacher?"

He just flashes another grin before leading us out of the building. We walk out into the late morning warmth to find a traffic jam caused by a minor accident up the street, so Pacey turns to me quickly to ask if I'd mind taking the subway.

I shake my head no. We head for the nearest station where we hear the train pulling up just as he gets tokens. Uncontrollable mirth begins to bubble out of me when we run as quickly as we can to the platform and into the downtown D train, still holding hands like a couple of kids.

The train is full, with every seat taken and plenty of commuters standing and holding onto the silver metal poles lining the center of the car. Pacey's hand tightens around mine while he positions us at a pole near the front and the train lurches to a start.

Oxygen catches in my throat, my breathing arrested in my lungs at the forced intimacy of our situation. I stare at the second button on his shirt, afraid to look up for fear of what I might see in his eyes.

He lets go of my hand and slides his arm lightly around my shoulders when more people squeeze into the car at the first stop. My heart has gone haywire, beating so frantically and so loudly that I'm positive he can hear it, can feel it against his chest.

"You okay?" He whispers, his warm breath stirring the hair at my forehead.

I have to swallow hard as I nod and finally let myself look up at him. And promptly forget every word that I was going to say.

He's smiling at me, his soft gaze a deep, deep blue. "Just a little bit longer."

I shake my head and stammer out a semi-coherent sentence. "No, no, it's really - I really - I mean, I - I - "

His smile widens. "You, you…?"

"I'm fine." I say firmly, raising an annoyed eyebrow at the twitching in his lips, where he's obviously trying his damnedest not to laugh.

"Okay." He grins before looking away again, leaving me to stand there in his arms, my insides feeling like a great big, horrible roller coaster ride gone out of control at Coney Island.

We get off at West 4th and walk to the Tisch building, me trailing after him and wondering what exactly he was going to do.

"What's his name?" Pacey asks.

"Whose? The teacher's?" I pause to dig it up from memory, knowing that Jen had mentioned it before. "Umm, something like John… Terrell, I think."

He nods and looks up the name on a professors' directory in the lobby. We take the elevator to the teachers' offices and stop outside one of the rooms. Pacey takes a neatly-folded piece of paper from his front shirt pocket and slides it in through the crack at the bottom of the door, then grabs my hand and hurriedly walks us out of there.

"What did you just do?" I ask as soon as we're out in the sunlight again, students walking in different directions around us.

"Oh, nothing. Just slipped Prof. Terrell a little anonymous note asking him to meet someone at a certain downtown café at one o'clock this afternoon."

I shake my head in disbelief, unable to resist smiling. "She's going to kill you."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, wagging a finger. "Correction. She's going to kill both of us." He grins widely. "But her love life will significantly improve. Care to buy me some lunch?"

"Can't. I don't have any money. You made me leave my purse at the office."

He chuckles. "Well then, you can repay me in other ways. I'm having a housewarming party at the apartment this weekend, and since you're the person responsible for how it turned out, I thought you should at least be there to share the blame for my poor taste."

An indignant reply about not being indebted to him for anything dies on my lips as I turn to face him squarely in the middle of the sidewalk. His invitation had been nonchalant and half-joking, but his eyes looked nothing other than serious.

His steady gaze holds mine for one long, fragmented moment. "I…"

"You…?"

"I would love to."

Pacey nods once and then turns to continue walking. "Good."