Disclaimer: I don’t own Dawson’s Creek. Columbia TriStar and the WB and Kevin Williamson? Paul Stupin? etc., all people who are not me, do. Good enough?

Author’s Note: I didn’t start watching Dawson’s Creek until mid-third season, and so I missed all of the Pacey/Andie and Dawson/Joey. But I’ve done my best to write them how I think they would sound. Also, I don’t dislike the D/J relationship, per say, but I think Dawson is selfish, low, and a lot of other non-complimentary things. But don’t worry! I won’t let it influence my writing.

Setting: Everything else happened, but none of the D/J. Andie and Pacey are together, so I guess sometime second season, and Jen might or might not have dated Dawson, but the important part is, she isn’t dating him now. From Joey’s POV. (Point Of View) Also, Dawson’s parents arrangements may be messed up. I’m sorry! Like I said, I haven’t seen the show at that point.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter Three

**************

But what he said was remarkably unthreatening, though I did tense a little at the memory. “What my dad said really upset you, didn’t it?”

I nodded a little. “I didn’t want to kill the messenger, though.”

Dawson pulled me in closer, kissed my forehead, and let me lean against his sturdy form. I loved the way he felt, steady and strong, like an oak tree, but not built like the body-builders. Just...strong. Like he actually meant to use his body, instead of showing it off to gullible females.

“I’m sorry, Jo.”

I looked up. “Don’t be sorry, Dawson. It isn’t just my problem. I mean, it must be pretty bad, you actually have to live in the same house with the guy!” I laughed a little, unsure of whether my laughter was sincere.
Dawson returned my nervous giggles with the certain, warm laughter I’d grown used to from my life-time friend. “Yeah, I guess it’s a little harder than usual. I mean, what do you say to the guy when you’re pretty sure the image of you and your best friend kissing tongue-to-tongue on the docks in firmly imprinted in his head?”

I smiled a little. The way Dawson said it made it sound almost humorous. But my mood sobered a little as I remembered that I wasn’t actually there to cry on his shoulder. I pulled away from him, and started back towards the window.

“Hey, where are you going?” I’d heard those words before. Right before the famous ‘best friends forever’ speech. I froze.

“Home.” Same answer I’d given then, too.

“Stay here. Please, Joey?” This was getting too familiar.

“What’ll your dad say?” There. That was different.

“I’ll swear to him on life and limb that you and I are not having sex, and then he’ll have no choice but to believe his admittedly disgustingly trustworthy son.”

I laughed. “Seriously, Dawson, your dad would be really mad.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, you’re right about the grades. You need them to be good. And besides...I want to cuddle with you.” His smile turned into a self-confident smirk.

I held my hands out in front of me. “All right. But keep your hands to yourself, understand?”

He nodded, and made a grand gesture towards the bed. “Perfectly, milady.”

I crawled without hesitation into Dawson’s bed, and then pulled him in with me. He rolled over on his back, and I laid my head on his chest. He smoothed my hair away from his face, and down my back, and rested the other hand on the bed, by his side. “G’night, Joey.”

“Night, Dawson.” It took about thirty seconds for me to fall asleep.

The next morning, I awoke to the sun streaming in the window, Dawson’s firm chest still under my head, and his arm draped across my back, and was contemplating how wonderful the day was when I heard Mr. Leery’s footsteps down the hallway, and reality set back in with a bang.

“Dawson!” I hissed. He opened his eyes sleepily, and leaned up to kiss my forehead.

“What?”

“Your dad!”

Dawson pushed me off him in record time, though, I noticed, taking just enough time to do it carefully, and grabbed my robe. “Put it on!”

I complied, a little confused, but willing to play along. Mr. Leery’s footsteps stopped outside Dawson’s door, and I froze. “Dawson?”

Dawson ran a comb through his hair, and opened his squeaky closet door with one hand, using the sound to mask the lock turning in his door handle. “Yeah, Dad?”
“Can I come in?”

“Uh...just a second. I’m changing.”
“Okay.”

Mr. Leery started to tap his foot, and we were both doubly aware of his presence on the immediate other side of the door.

“Get out!” Dawson hissed, pointing to the window. Then his tone softened. “I’ll see you at school?”
I nodded, not wanting to make any noise. Dawson could dismiss the sound of his voice to his father as useless mutterings, but there was no way to explain my voice. Then, planting a kiss on his cheek, I once again slipped soundlessly out of the window, pausing only long enough to listen to Dawson open his door and greet his father.

“Morning, Dad.”

I smiled, and crawled the rest of the way down the ladder in careful silence. It hurt a little to hear such a loving relationship with one’s father really did exist, as it always had, but I considered Mr. Leery a surrogate father anyway. And I was oh, so glad that Dawson still had parents who loved him, even if his family was falling apart.

When I got to school that morning, the principal cornered me, and showed me to the telephone. Which Bessie was on. And she was not happy.

“Where the hell where you, Joey? I got up this morning, and you weren’t here! Dawson’s dad said you weren’t allowed there, Andie and Jack hadn’t heard from you, and Pacey was at Andie’s house anyway. I was worried sick!”

I hung my head a little, and muttered something that I knew Bessie couldn’t hear.

“What?”

I muttered a little louder this time. “I said, I was at Dawson’s.”

Bessie still sounded pissed. “Joey...”

I was getting mad, too. I guess Bessie’s anger was contagious. “I couldn’t sleep, okay? And I have a test today, which I am going to miss if you don’t let me get off the phone, and I couldn’t take it on an hour of sleep.”

“And how much sleep did you get at Dawson’s, Jo?” Ouch. Low blow. Bessie was seriously angry.

“Look, not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t have sex with him, okay?”

I could hear Bessie sigh, as if the world was coming down on her shoulders. But her anger was retreating, which was a good sign. “Just come home after school, okay Joey?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” I hung the phone back on the hook, and stalked out of the principal’s office, nodding absently to the secretary on my way out.

I didn’t see Dawson again until lunch. And even then, he was too busy talking to Pacey to pay much attention to me. So I snuck up behind him, and covered his eyes with my hands. He jumped about a mile and a half. Pacey had almost said something when he saw me coming, but at the last moment, he had a change of heart, and carefully concealed his grin.

Dawson turned and kissed me, draping his arm around my shoulder in one smooth motion. Pacey grinned, and I knew Dawson was in for some serious interrogation later.

Dawson turned back to his friend, the look on his face making everyone aware that he was joking. “That was conspiring with the enemy, Pace!”

Pacey just grinned harder. “Oh? I didn’t know she was the enemy, I thought she was...sort of...like...your girlfriend.”

Dawson took a fake swing at him. Pacey ducked, laughing, and started to back away down the hall. “I gotta get to class, D. See ya!” He was halfway down the corridor when Andie caught up with him and he seemed to forget all about class.

I took one look at Pacey and Andie, kissing in the halls, and laughed. “Looks like they forgot about class, huh?” I asked Dawson. When he didn’t respond, I turned around and watched him. His eyes were sort of vacant, like he was thinking really hard, and I waved my hand in front of his face.

“Dawson! Snap out of it!”

Dawson jumped a little, and turned to me. “Oh. Sorry, Joey.” He kissed me quickly, and ran off. “See you later?”

I nodded as he walked backwards down the hallway, blowing me a kiss and turning around just in time to avoid running into an awe-struck freshman. I smiled at his oblivion. Not that I minded. But he had to be a little blind to miss the fact that he had admirers numbering in the hundreds among the freshmen, and some of the sophomores. I even heard a couple of juniors talking about him one day.

I shook my head, trying to take my own advice and ‘snap out of it’, and turned to head for class, wondering what Dawson had been thinking about when he was so out of it.

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