Joey stepped back from the wall to survey her work, her feet disturbing the plastic she had covering the floor to capture some of the paint that dripped from the paintbrush in her hand. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand eyeing the half-painted wall critically as some random pop song played quietly in the background from the small radio she had by the window.

"Aww, Potter," Pacey said from the doorway, a whining tone to his voice, "You started without me."

She shrugged dipping her paintbrush back in the can. "I was bored and you're slow."

"I was looking forward to getting down and dirty with you." He pouted.

She smiled running the paintbrush over the wall in broad strokes. "There are still three other walls left."

He smiled, "Okay, I'll just go change into something more...comfortable." He disappeared down the hall to his bedroom.

She grinned and shook her head, returning to her painting.

He returned a few moments later, wearing a ragged pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt with more than a few holes in it. He walked in barefoot with a smile on his face. "Got an extra brush?"

"Um, there should be an extra one by the paint can," she said not turning away from the wall.

"Where do you want me to start?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and dropping a kiss on the curve of her neck.

Her knees buckled involuntarily a reaction only he was able to arouse in her. She smiled. "There're three walls. It shouldn't be too hard to choose one."

"'Kay," he moved to the wall that had the window. "How was your day?" He asked her, bending over to pour some paint in the extra pan she had left out for him.

"Aside from the fact that I spent a better part of it over the toilet, it was okay."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I think, technically it is." He dipped the roller in the paint and applied it to the wall. "We should ask the doctor about your nausea, maybe there's something she can prescribe."

She shrugged. "It really isn't that bad."

"Okay, well, this is the last time I need to go into work in the mornings, so I'll be here with you the rest of the time."

"It's not like I need twenty-four hour supervision."

"I know that," He ran the roller along the wall evenly. "I want to be here though. I don't like the idea of you spending your morning all alone in the bathroom."

"It's not like I spend the whole morning there," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Well then, if I get to spend the morning just being with you, all the better."

She smirked. "Well, since you like spending so much time with me, do you have any plans for Saturday?"

"Well, I was planning on watching reruns of Rocky and Bullwinkle, I donno if I want to miss that..." He trailed off.

"I need a date for this fundraiser, this Patrons of the Arts thing to raise money for art programs in schools, its black tie. Do you think you'll be able to clean up nicely or should I just ask Jack?"

"Jack would probably be the safer bet," he began. "But I clean up okay."

"Fine. Jack it is."

"Oh no, Potter." He shook his head, continuing to smear paint across the wall. "Jack's so undeserving."

"Jack knows how to act his age," she teased.

"I can pretend...that's the best I can offer."

She sighed. "Guess that'll have to do. You do know black tie means tux, right?"

"Yes, Miss Josephine." He sighed with fake exhasperation. "Hell, I might even own one or two."

"It's just that I can never be too sure with you," she replied.

"You can't be sure with me?" He asked, his brows knitting as he continued to work, prefering not to look at her.

She shrugged finishing up the wall she was working on. "I didn't mean it as a detriment on your part."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant what I said."

"What aren't you sure about?" He reiterated.

She shook her head. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Joey," he sighed and put down the paint brush and turned to face her. "I hate it when you do this, why can't you just talk to me?"

"I just made some harmless comment," she said beginning to start on another wall.

"Right, you make them constantly. Little things that you brush off as not being important. If they weren't important, you wouldn't say them."

"Gosh, okay. Fine. I'm sorry I said anything."

He sighed, "That's not what I meant, I want you to talk to me. I never know what you're thinking, Joey. Ever."

"Do you ever think that if I wanted you to know what I was thinking, I would tell you what I was thinking?"

"And you know what that tells me?" He asked her, "That you don't want me to know what you're thinking, ever. Which leads me to believe you don't want me in your life at all." He paused, "I know that's not what you want, right? So then what's the problem?" He asked softly.

"There is no problem."

"Like hell there isn't." He muttered and picked up the paintbrush and went silently back to work.

She put her paintbrush down in annoyance. "Why are you making such a big deal about this?"

"Because."

"Oh yeah, like that's an answer."

"It's the kind of answer you gave me." He told her, his tone distant.

"Fine," she said simply turning back to her painting.

Pacey did his best to concentrate oh his roller. Up and down, smooth, clean motions. It wasn't helping him as he tried to squelch the hurt he felt at her inability to trust him. At all. He moved the brush carefully around the window frame, focusing on his task.

She put her paintbrush down. "I'm going to get something to drink. Want anything?"

"No," he replied, his voice hollow sounding.

"Okay." She left the room.

A song he liked came on and he turned the volume on the radio up so he could sing along. It was an old one, from when he'd been a teenager, it took him a few moments to remember the title: Crash, by Dave Matthews Band. "...Crash into me, Bay-be. And I'll come intooooo... you," he sang.

Joey leaned against the doorframe and drank from her can of soda watching him in amusement.

"In a boys dream, in a boys dream." He swiped the roller over the wall in time to the music. "I've gone overboard. Then I'm begging you to forgive me, oh, in my haste. When I'm holding you so close...Oh, and you come crashhh...into me, bay-be. And I come intoooo you." He smiled, "Hike up your skirt a little more, and show your world to me..." He wondered idly if he should use this song in his next act as he did a little dance step to it.

She laughed and began to clap. He swung around, and spotting her, took a low bow. She smiled. "Don't quit your day job."

"Wasn't planning on it." He said, his smile fading. He dipped the roller back into the pan again, coating it completely before returning to the wall.

She frowned walking back into the room. "You missed a spot," she said taking a sip of her soda.

He followed her eyes, and moved the roller over the small spot devoid of color. He turned the music down, now that she returned.

She raised an eyebrow. "You missed that spot over there too," she said taking another sip from the can.

He dutifully painted over the spot she indicated.

She grimaced as she finished off her soda. "Oh yeah, and there's a really big spot there by the window."

"You do realize that I haven't finished with this wall yet right?" He asked her, moving the roller over the new spot.

She nodded. "Yeah, but you need to get the first coat on right." She placed her hands on her lower back and surveyed the wall. She pointed at an undiscerning spot on the wall near the floor. "Look, there's another one," she lied.

He stepped back to look where she was pointing, "I don't see anything."

"Well, then you must be blind because it's right there. Plain as day."

He stared at the spot she was pointing at, "Nothing." He shook his head.

"How can you not see it!?" she exclaimed.

"Here," he handed her the roller with the extended handle, "You get it then." He moved away from her and started on the fourth wall, near the molding.

"Oh, no I don't think so. You started this wall. You finish it." She walked over to him and handed the roller back.

He took it from her, and swiped over the corner blindly, expecting to get whatever invisable spot he'd missed. "There? Satisfied?" He asked her crossly.

She stepped back and stared at the wall critically. "I can't believe you missed it again. You only got like half of it."

He sighed loudly and moved the roller a little and moved it over the corner, throughly making sure to cover every inch of that area. "Now, if you're done harrassing me, we both have work to do." He frowned.

She tilted her head to the side and eyed the wall. She tapped her finger against her lips. "Wait, actually�"

"What?" He moaned.

She giggled. "Nothing."

"Glad you're amused," he turned away and started on the fourth wall, again.

She smiled and watched him. "Oh, wait, look you missed spot."

He gave her a whithering look, "Are you done playing with me now? It's getting a little old."

"But it was so much fun," she whined.

"There's a time and place for fun. And it's not when I'm borderline mad at you."

She rolled her eyes. "Not this again."

" Yes, this again. We never resolve anything. Your issues with me aren't just going to go away if you ignore them."

"The only issue I have with you is that you have an issue with my nonexistent issues," she said plainly.

"If they were non-existant, then there wouldn't be a problem. I'm not just making this up in my head, Joey."

"Okay, fine issue number one. You always have to make my issues about you. Maybe I have a problem that doesn't revolve around Pacey Witter."

"That's fine," he told her. "But I need to know that. I'd like to help, if I could. And if I can't, I want to be there to support you."

"Oh, there's more. And what about every time I do something nice you act surprised like I'm some heinous bitch? And if I hear you apologize one more time when I mention a little morning sickness or anything else that goes along with pregnancy, I'm going to scream." She poked his chest accusingly.

"Then there's the fact that you act like I'm the only one keeping secrets. You also, always have to talk about everything. If I make one innocent little comment, it turns into this completely big thing. You treat me like I'm going to break. I will kill you if I'm forced to see your face while I'm hovering over the toilet in the morning!"

He was silent for a few moments taking in her words. "There's an apology on the tip of my tongue, but apperently you don't want to hear it. And I'd offer to talk with you about all that too, but likewise, that's not the right thing to do." He sighed, resting his hands on his hips. "What do you want me to say? Or do?"

"Nothing! Okay. Absolutely nothing."

"So you want me to stand here and look pretty?" He asked her dubiously.

"Yes. Do that...and paint while you're at it."

His shoulders slumped, "Fine. Whatever." He picked up his discarded roller and dipped it back into the fresh paint. "But for the record, I don't think you're a heinous bitch."

"And-and stop pouting. I hate that."

He forced a cheerful smile to his face. "Better?" he asked sarcastically.

She smiled letting out a sharp breath. "Yeah, that was actually kind of therapeutic. You should try it sometime. Like if you had any issues with me. Though I doubt it because I'm so perfect," she said turning back to her wall.

"Right, like I'm going to yell at my pregnant girlfriend...sure." He frowned.

She frowned and stopped painting. "I am not your girlfriend."

"You're not?" Confusion tinged his voice.

She shook her head. "No. Name one thing we do that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend, sex not included."

"You're pregnant with my child, we live together, we eat together, we paint rooms together, we're going to that gallery thing together. What do we do that's not coupley?"

"Yeah, but if we were a couple there wouldn't have been an issue of who was going to be my date for the fundraiser," she said pointedly. "Okay and if we are a couple, my other issue is that you never take me anywhere. It's because I'm getting fat isn't it?"

"Okay, there was never an issue of who was going to the fundraiser with you. And you are not fat. You're pregnant."

"Oh yeah, you're just embarrassed to be seen in public with me."

"God, Joey. No, I'm not." He put his roller down to face her. "You're beautiful."

"Liar."

"Why would I lie?"

"Because I'm carrying your child."

"And that makes you even more beautiful than you were before. Not less."

She tried to contain a smile and pointed at the wall behind Pacey. "You missed a spot."

"You say that one more time..." he threatened.

She smirked challengingly. "Oh, look there's another one."

"Potter," he whined, "I didn't want to have to do this." He said, advancing on her.

She stepped back instinctively. "Do what?" she asked eyeing him wearily.

He quickly grabbed the paint roller and flicked the paint on it at her, leaving flecks of yellow across her shirt.

She gasped and grabbed her paintbrush flicking the paint at him.

"There, you know that spot I missed?" he asked her. "I think I finally got it," he smiled.

"No, actually," she walked over to him and ran her paintbrush over his shirt. She stepped back pleased with herself. "There it goes."

"Well, darn." He frowned, looking down at his paint smeared shirt. "We don't match anymore." He repeated her movement on her own shirt. "There, all fixed." He said with a wicked grin.

"Wrong as always," she commented painting a wide streak down his arm. "I don't want to look like you."

He laughed, and touched the tip of his brush to her nose. "That's too bad. I thought I was pretty good looking."

She crinkled her nose. "There's that problem of yours again. You went and thought." She swept her paintbrush across both of his cheeks. "There you look so much more attractive now."

"Attractive enough for you, even?" He asked running the roller down the curve of her neck.

She glared and painted a streak along his other arm. "No, but maybe some poor woman on the street would take pity on you."

"Damn," he frowned and ran his roller gently over her stomach. "I don't want another woman."

Joey stared at her paintbrush gravely. "I think you'd look so much better with yellow hair."

"Oh no..." he backed away from her slowly.

She nodded her smiling wryly as she stepped forward. "Oh yes."

"No, no, no...that stuff doesn't come out of hair."

"Well, then," she said surveying the brush and then glancing back at him. "That's just a chance we're going to have to take." She jumped at him knocking them both to the floor.

He laughed after cushioning her fall. "Hmm�Not funny," she pouted.

"What's not funny? You tackling me in an effort to make me a platnium blond?" He smiled, "Cause I find that rather humerous." He wrapped his arms around her waist. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't tease me like that," he warned her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said indignantly.

"Don't stick your tongue out unless you plan on putting it to use." He said with a wry smile.

She stuck her tongue out again just to spite him. He flicked his tongue over hers, and chuckled at her surpised look. "Oh yeah, you think you're so funny."

"Hmm hmm, yeah." He agreed easily, with a playful smile.

She laughed and kissed him softly. "You're face is all yellow."

"I wonder who's to blame for that?" he murmured, bringing her lips back to his.

"Hmm...Yeah, I wonder."

He smiled softly up at her. "I knew this painting together was going to lead to trouble."

"Yeah, now if only we could just finish," Joey said glancing around the room.

"Aww, we have five months." He told her. "The room can wait," he kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, but I'd like to finish before I get too big to help."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Fine, but I want a raincheck on this."

She smiled. "On what?" she asked innocently.

"On kissing you." He mumbled, nuzzling her neck.

"What's stopping you now?"

"You."

She raised an eyebrow. "I am?"

"You'd rather paint."

She brushed her thumb across the paint on his cheek. "You're my favorite canvas."

He chuckled, "I'm glad to hear that." He massaged her back lightly. "You wanna get up?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I feel pretty comfortable right here."

"Yay," he mumbled against the skin of her neck.

"Bessie's going to kill you if she finds a hickey on my neck," she teased.

"I'll be careful, I promise." He breathed. "She wont notice." He smiled against her skin, before taking it delicatly between his lips.

She grinned lazily and shivered slightly, sitting up. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she tugged her shirt over her head in one swift move. "Maybe you should work on an area I can cover in clothes. Just in case."

"Your wish is my command," he brought his lips back to her neck, trailing them slowly down to her collarbone. "You sure you're in the mood?" He breathed against her skin, his hands fidgiting with the clasp of her bra.

She laughed. "C'mon, Pacey," she mocked. "I have curfew in an hour."

He worked his mouth down across her chest, his tongue swirling over the pale smoothness of her skin. She tasted faintly of salt and something intensly erotic that was purely her.

She moaned softly and lolled her head back, tangling her hands in his hair.

He pulled his lips away from her chest as a thought struck him, and looked up at her. "We don't have to do this." He told her, his eyebrows drawn together.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Just because I kiss you," he shook his head, loosening his hold on her. "That doesn't mean I'm...expecting nookie."

She bit back a smile. "Uh-huh."

"Not that I don't want to..." He quirked an eyebrow at her, not quite expecting that reaction. "I just don't need to."

She nodded her head simply. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded wrapping her arms around his neck and smiled. "Okay."

"When did you become so agreeable?" He smiled.

She pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "I blame you."

"And how is that?" He asked kissing her lightly and resting his forhead against hers.

She shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I know you're somehow to blame."

"And I had this whole speech planned out for why you didn't have to sleep with me." He pouted.

She grinned crookedly. "You can save it for when I'm having trouble sleeping."

"How much you wanna bet that I'll be the reason you can't sleep?" He asked and she yawned. He chuckled, "Fine then, see if I ever try keeping you awake at night again."

She sighed. "I'll just have to live with myself."

He chuckled, "Mastered the art of self-gratifcation, have we?" He smirked.

She made a face of exasperation. "Bite me." He promptly bit her shoulder lightly.

"Just for that you don't get to watch," she said jokingly.

He groaned, "You're killing me, Potter."

She smiled. "It's what I do best."

"Yes, and thank you. I need someone to keep me in line."

"You're very much welcome," she said placing a small kiss on his lips.

He smiled against her lips. "So, are we going to sit here and make out for awhile, or should we finish the first coat?"

"Mmm�" she kissed him, pulling his lower lip into her mouth and sucking on it lightly. She broke away and reached for her shirt. "C'mon, let's finish."

"Yes, mistress." He said rising, then offering her his hand after she'd pulled her shirt back on.

"Mistress, huh?" she said accepting his hand.

"Yup," he nodded.

"Well, then," she smiled climbing to her feet, "get back to work slave boy."

Lucy sat back in her desk, flicking the envelope with her fingers, debating on how to ask her boss for the day off on such a short notice. She knew there was a ton of work to be done, especially since Joey had been coming and going so much these days. She bit her lip nervously as she waited for Joey to show up.

"Heya Luce," Joey said brightly pushing the door closed behind her with her foot as she balanced the large cup of vanilla latte in one hand and a bagel in the other.

"Joey!" She rose from her seat and took the drink from Joey. "Just the wonderful, kind hearted boss I was looking for." She smiled, "There's a message from Pacey on the desk and one from Jack."

"Thanks," Joey said as she pulled off her coat and hung it over her arm. She took the latte back from Lucy. "I can't believe them. I just left the apartment like half an hour ago."

"They adore you." Lucy shrugged, "Just as I do." She followed her boss back to her office.

"You're being particularly over exuberant today," Joey commented as she hung up her jacket behind the door. She walked over to her desk and took a swift drink of her hot coffee before sitting down. "Okay, so talk to me."

"There's this wedding...on Monday." She smiled nervously. "I know it's short notice and all. At first I wasn't planning on going, but now...I've decided that it's important I be there. I was hoping you wouldn't mind too much. I can work late tonight to make up for it. It's not like I really have plans on a Friday. How pathetic is that?"

She rambled on, "A single girl, all alone on a Friday night, you'd think I'd have someone to spend my evenings with friends at least. But nope, they're all busy tonight." She smiled again.

Joey smiled. "And here I was thinking it was bad news." She reached for her day planner and checked the date. "You can have Monday off if you want. I should be able to handle it."

"Thank you, Jo." She smiled widely. "Is there anything you want me to do before then?" She asked.

She shook her head glancing at the papers on her desk. "No, I think you've been pretty much staying on top of things. Thanks," she smiled gratefully.

She looked down and smiled shyly. Praise from Joey was rare, she only said it when she truly meant it. "No, thank you."

"I know I've been asking a lot of you lately and you've been wonderful about it." Joey laughed lightly and began to organize the clutter on her desk.

She chuckled, "You're a wonderful person to work for." She smirked, "Most of the time."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Joey said looking up from her desk with a grin. "So who's getting married?"

"Oh, My-" she cut herself off, "An old boyfriend." She corrected. "Dawson Leery? You might have heard of him, he's a pretty successful lawyer these days."

Joey stiffened, a few papers falling from her hands and onto the floor. "Yeah-Yes, I think I've heard of him."

"He's marrying my best friend, Cynthia." She frowned slightly, "I think you met her."

She nodded her head distractedly caught up in her own thoughts. "Yeah...The name sounds familiar."

"I wasn't going to go right at first, because...well, Dawson and I have been on and off for years...it just didn't feel right. Still doesn't," she mumbled to herself.

"Oh." She bit down on her lip debating with herself on whether she should question Lucy any further.

"But, you know," she shrugged. "Maybe going will close those doors, right?" She said optimistically.

She nodded her head mutely. "Yeah...maybe."

Lucy sighed and rose from the seat. "I should probably get back to work. Thanks again, Joey."

"No problem." She forced a weak smile.

"You okay?" She asked, finally picking up on Joey's discomfort.

She shook her head and focused on Lucy, managing a more reassuring smile. "Yeah. Sure. Fine."

"Okay," She nodded, and closed the door behind her.

Joey slumped down in her seat and chewed on her lower lip nervously, overcome by an enormous amount of guilt. What was she supposed to do now?

Some strange woman named Cynthia that she barely knew was going to make the mistake of becoming Mrs. Dawson Leery and knowing Dawson like she did, she doubted he'd changed unless it was under the duress of extreme psychotherapy.

She frowned, she could have prevented this, she should have pressed charges or warn everyone she knew about him. Instead, she'd let her embarrassment get in the way and chose to ignore it hoping it'd just go away. All she'd really succeeded in doing was letting some other woman find out the hard way of what Dawson was really like. She had ended up doing him in a favor. She sighed. What was she supposed to do now?

Her eyes fell on the messages Lucy had left on her desk, Pacey's name written in her neat cursive. Pacey knew the truth about Dawson. She'd be able to talk to him about it; she reached for her phone and began to dial.

"Hello?" Pacey's gruff voice came clearly through the receiver.

She smiled already feeling slightly better at the sound of his voice. "Am I to assume that you called the gallery right after I left this morning?"

"You'd be correct to assume that," he replied, smiling at the sound of her voice as he loaded the dishwasher.

"Can I inquire as to why?" She bit back a smile.

"You left before I could get a chance to say goodbye." He told her simply.

She raised an eyebrow. "So you called to say goodbye?"

"Yes, I did."

"And here I thought it was something important," she said sitting back in her seat.

He shrugged, rinsing out the pot they'd used for dinner last night. "It's important to me. Unlike you, Miss Small Business owner, I'm only a lowly stripper. I have very little on my 'to do' list in the mornings. It's all set up in this nice routine. And when I miss something, this case, my goodbye kiss, it ruins my whole day." He concluded.

She laughed softly. "Well, then, I'm sorry for ruining your day."

"There are ways you can make up for it..." he said lightly.

Her voice lowered significantly. "Like what?"

"Like meeting me for lunch," he replied, his voice seductive. Their lunch dates rarely led to any kind of eating. "I have to go to work at three, so I wont be around until late tonight."

"I'm pretty busy." She smiled. "But I think I can manage to fit you in."

He chuckled, "You always find time to fit me in."

"Just terrible, aren't I?"

"Absolutly horrible." He agreed. "By the way, I offically have tomorrow off. So I'm all yours."

"Just the way I like you." She grinned.

He chuckled, and closed the door to the dishwasher. "Just the way I like me, too. What time is this fundraiser?"

She leaned forward in her seat. "Um, it starts at six."

"Okay, I'll pick you up, say five-thirty?"

"Fine."

"It's a date."

She smiled. "Okay."

"No more complaining about me not taking you anywhere." He reprimanded teasingly.

"Hmm...I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, Potter. As much as I hate to admit it, I stink. And somehow, I don't think BO is a turn on for you."

"You know me so well."

"I've still got plenty to learn, I think." He headed down the hallway with the portable phone. "You are the most mystifying woman on earth."

She smiled. "A little mystery is good."

"A little mystery, sure. But the rate we're going, I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure you out, Jo."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I think so." He repeated, moving the phone away from his ear to pull his night shirt up over his head.

"I think you just make me out to be more complicated than I really am."

"Maybe. It could be just that you get some sort of twisted thrill out of making me..." he trailed off, trying to think of the write word to describe what she did to him.

"I get a thrill out of making you do a lot of things," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, you do. And most of them, I enjoy more than you do." He smirked, stripping down to his boxers. "Hey Jo, where are the clean towels?"

She tapped her pen against the desk. "Check the closet in the hall."

He followed her directions, and opened the correct door. "Bingo." He grapped the nearest one. "What would I do without you?"

"Go without towels?"

He rolled his eyes, "Smart ass."

"You must be rubbing off on me then."

"I'd resent that...but it's probably true."

"You know it is." She smiled. "I need to get off the phone. I still need to call Jack."

"Yeah, and I need to take a shower if I'm going to make myself presentable for lunch."

"Okay. I'll see you later then."

"Bye Babe."

"Later Hon."

He chuckled, "How Sonny and Cher of us."

"I really should go." She laughed. "Bye dork."

"Bye Ice Queen." He smirked, hanging up the phone. She did the same with a grin.

Pacey fiddled with his tie in the mirror of their bathroom that Saturday night. Trying to appear his best in front of Joey's collegues. He groaned, finding it impossible to get the damned thing straight.

"And how are we doing in here?" Joey asked peeking her head inside the bathroom.

"Miserable." He threw up his hands in defeat, he glared at the tie through the mirror.

"Oh yeah, get mad at it. That's going to help," she teased stepping into the bathroom. "Here let me try."

He dutifully turned to face her, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of her all dressed up. "Hell-o, Gorgeous." He drawled.

The smooth, silky, black material fit her like a second skin, softly accentuating her curves. The neckline of the dress dipped modestly in the front, the necklace he had gotten her for her birthday visible. Her long stocking clad leg noticeable along the slit on her left. She left her hair down letting it brush over her bare shoulders and wore only the simplest amount of make-up.

"Thanks," she said dryly her hands already working on his bowtie.

"You look...ravishing." He mumbled, he touched the tips of his fingers to the chain of her necklace. "You sure we can't just stay home?"

"There we go." She smiled pulling at the ends of the tie as she finished and patted his chest. "Yes. I'm sure."

He sighed, "I guess I'll just have to suffer being the envy of every man there. Woe is me."

"You'll live."

He kissed her lightly, "It'll be hard, but I'll survive." He agreed.

She smiled. "Besides you don't look half bad yourself."

"Thank you," he pulled her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her middle, her back to his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder as he looked into the mirror at their reflection. "Not to shabby."

She sighed and shut her eyes for a moment enjoying the feel of being in his arms. She raised her arm curling it around his neck and turned her head pulling his lips to hers in a quick kiss. "We should go. Don't want to be late."

"You're right, as usual." He pulled away from her and held open the bathroom door for her. "Ladies first."

Her lips curved into an amused grin as she passed him. "I guess it's true what they say. Clothes really do make the man."

"Har de har har," he followed behind her. "I've always been a gentleman." He opened the closet near the door and pulled out her coat, holding it open for her to slip into.

"Uh-huh," she commented lightly as she slid her arms into her coat.

He slipped his own coat on. "Got your keys, Princess?"

"Yes. I'm responsible unlike some people."

He rested his hand over her stomach, "Are you going to let you mommy talk to me that way?"

Joey tilted her head. "I think he'll side with me. I'm the one carrying him."

"Him?" he opened the door. "What makes you so sure it's going to be a boy?'

She shrugged. "I don't know. Just this feeling I have." She patted her stomach. "Just do me a favor and don't come out anything like your dad."

He gestured through the open door. "After you. You know, you pick on me way too much."

"Only because I love you," she teased.

"Yeah, sure. If you're not careful, this kid's gonna grow up thinking her parent's hate each other." He locked the door.

Joey smiled and brushed her lips against his cheek. "Will not."

"You say that now..."

She gazed down at her belly. "I don't hate your dad. No matter what he says."

He met her eyes as they walked down the hall. "You think he can hear us?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"Given any more thought to names?" He asked, heading down the stairs beside her.

She pouted. "I still don't see what's wrong with Gabriel."

"It's girly," he whined.

She smiled. "Well, we can always call him Pacey."

"Oh, God no," he shook his head. "It's bad enough that even one Witter got stuck with that name."

She reached for his hand locking their fingers together. "It's not that bad," she paused with a smirk, "wait, yeah, well it is. Um, how about Jason?"

He gave her a dark look, "Why don't we just name him Dawson?"

She eyed him strangely. "What?"

"You do remember Jason, don't you?"

"Oh�" she said as recognition came over her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

He gave her hand a light squeeze in response. She sighed resting her head against his shoulder. Now, was definitely not the time to bring up Dawson and his impending marriage. Something she'd been putting off.

"Tired already?" He asked, stepping into the elevator with her. "The night is still young."

"Nah, I was just thinking."

"Anything you want to share with the rest of the class?" He asked, pressing the button for the ground floor.

She shook her head. "Nothing important."

He was silent for a moment. "We can name him Gabriel, if you've got your heart set on it." He told her quietly.

She gazed up at him with a small smile. "I'm sure we'll find something we agree on."

He arched an eyebrow, "You do realize who we're talking about here, Potter, right?" He asked, "We can't even agree on what kind of peanut butter to buy."

"We'll compromise."

"What? Gabe-ryan?"

She smiled. "It could work."

He shook his head, "That's worse than Pacey."

"Well we still have a couple more months to decide. He's not here yet."

He kissed her temple, "I know." The doors slid opened.

She grinned. "And if we can't decide, we'll just have another kid and you could name it."

"Woah, okay, hold your horses. The first one hasn't made it safely into this world yet."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "It was a joke."

He smiled in relief, "I wasn't able to handle one kid the first time. I don't even know if I'll survive Gabe."

"God help us if he's anything like you when you were a kid." She smirked.

"He wont be," he assured her, holding open the door for her. "You'll kill any adventurous spirit in him before he becomes to much like me."

"Hey! What's that supposed to be mean?"

He shrugged, "Nothing."

She frowned. "Hmm�"

He led her out to the car, holding the door open for her. "I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't like me as a kid either."

"You used to tease me way too much when we were younger," Joey said climbing in.

"And you're making up for it now." He smiled.

"You weren't a bad kid, Pace. Just a pain in the ass."

"Well, that's good to hear." He closed his own door, "I think."

She reached for his hand. "And if being such a pain in the ass when you were a kid," the corner of her mouth turned up slightly, "helped make you the wonderful man you are today, then I hope our son comes out just like you."

He smiled softly at her, an overwhelming wave of affecton for her overcame him. He cupped her cheek and pulling her lips to his. "Thank you." He said quietly, gazing into her eyes.

She returned his smile with one of her own and shook her head. "No, thank you."

He squeezed her hand, the corner of his mouth quirked up. He started the car and carefully pulled out into traffic, "So where exactly are we headed again?"

Joey tried to mask a yawn as she sat down at her table. If she had to be forced to smile at one more person one more time she would scream.

Pacey spotted her and politely excused himself from the conversation he was in with two guys about football. "Hey Beautiful," he greeted her gently.

She smiled up at him. "Having fun?"

"Eh," he shrugged. "It's not as bad as I though it'd be."

She gazed around the room. "I'm just about ready to go home."

"Okay," He agreed, "Anyone you need to say goodbye to before we head home?" He asked, holding a hand out to her.

She frowned. "Just about everyone."

"Let me rephrase: Anyone you want to say good-bye to?" He smiled gently at her.

"Well, those are few and far between." Her eyes swept through the crowd falling on Lucy's familiar form. She frowned and stood up. "I'll just tell Lucy goodbye."

"Want me to go get the car or wait?"

"You can get the car. I'll be fine."

"Okay," he gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed for the doors.

Joey watched him leave before heading over to Lucy to tell her that she was leaving.

"Hey, Jo." Her secretary greeted her, an intoxicated grin spreading across her face. "How'd you enjoy the party?"

"Obviously not as much as you did." Joey smiled. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to head home now."

"Okay," Lucy smiled happy and impulsive threw her arms around her boss. "Thanks again for Monday off. Dawson said I just had to go."

Joey forced a smile. "You're welcome�You think you'll be able to get home okay?"

"Yeah," she gestured around her. "One of these fine men will ethscourt me home."

"You sure?" Joey asked concerned. "I can give you a ride if you want."

"Actually...ya wouldn't mind?" She asked.

She shook her head. "No, I wouldn't."

"If you drive, I can pick up my car from you later," she said, handing over her keys. Lucy's eyelids hung heavily. "Thanks Jo."

"Not a problem," Joey said wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her to the door.

Lucy leaned heavily on Joey as she led her out the door. "Where'd yer hunk-o-man go?" She slurred slightly.

Joey smiled faintly. "He went to get the car."

"Gallant, ain't he?"

�My hero,� she replied wryly.

"Ya gonna marry him?" Lucy asked blunty, pointing out her car to Joey. "Seems like everyone's gettin' hitched now...even my Dawson."

Joey shook her head as she led Lucy to her car. "He's not exactly the marrying type."

"Neithers is Dawson. Dont mean he wont do it." She pouted.

�Pacey�s nothing like Dawson, believe me,� Joey muttered.

"Men suck."

Joey nodded in agreeance, propping Lucy against the car as she fiddled with the keys. "That they do."

"Where're all the good guys? Are they all in New York or somewheres? Can't find any in Bostinnn." Lucy rambled as Joey unlocked the doors.

"They're around. They're just not easy to find," Joey said helping Lucy into the passenger side seat. "And if you do find one, it'll be in one of the most unsuspecting places," she continued fastening Lucy's seatbelt.

"Not with my luck," she pouted.

"You'll fine someone Lucy." Joey sighed straightening out. "Someone definitely better than Dawson Leery. Look, I'm going to try to find Pacey and tell him what's going on. Don't go anywhere," she said shutting the door. "I'll be right back."

She headed towards the front of the building and spotted Pacey's car. She walked around to his side and gestured for him to roll down the window, he gave her a confused look, "What's up?"

"Lucy's completely trashed. She has her car, so I'm going to drive her home. I'll just meet you back at home in about an hour, okay?"

He smiled, "Okay. You're such a good friend."

She smiled and rubbed at her arms. "You didn't happen to grab my coat on the way out did you?"

"Nope," he shook his head. He began shrugging out of his. "Take mine."

"Thanks," she said accepting the coat from him and slipping it on. She leaned in giving him a short kiss. "I'll see you in a little while."

"Alright. Bye Jo." He closed his door and started the car.

"Bye," she said quietly stepping away from the car and beginning to walk back over to Lucy.

Lucy rolled her head to the side hearing the door open. "Thanks again, Joey." She mumbled.

Joey shrugged climbing in and shutting the door behind her. "No problem. At least this way I know you've gotten home safe." She slipped the key into the ignition.

"You're such a peach."

She pulled on her seatbelt and shifted the car into drive, carefully pulling out of the parking space. "I try."

Lucy fell silent as she watched the blur of Boston's lights pass by her window. Joey cast a furtive glance in Lucy's direction as she drove. "Want me to lower a window?"

"Oh...um, yeah, that might be a good idea." She said, suddenly feeling her stomach rumble. The window automatically lowered and Luch sighed, feeling the cool air wash over her flushed face. She screwed up her face, "Is sex all men think about?" She asked.

"With an occasional pause for food," Joey responded lightly.

Lucy smiled slightly. "Pacey that way, or is it just my Dawson?" She slurred her words a little.

"Pacey's been hormonally driven for as long as I've known him, but he tries." The corner of her mouth turned up a bit. "At least he pretends to."

"So, he concentrates on sex too. Is it cold?'

She shook her head and blushed faintly, not taking her eyes off the road. "No."

"Well, then...what's he like after?"

She smiled faintly. "He always asks me if I'm okay after, like he expects me to break or something."

Lucy snorted, "I don't even get that." She paused, "Does he- is he gentle?" She asked in a small voice.

"Yeah�" she said her voice trailing off as she signaled for a left turn. "He is."

She looked down shaking her head. "You got one of the good ones."

Joey smiled faintly the smell of Pacey's cologne and something else that was essentially him drifted off the coat she was wearing, pervading her senses. "Yeah�I did. I was lucky."

"Dawson says I should be thankful for what I got."

She frowned at Lucy's words. "How did you and Dawson meet?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Friend of a friend..." she smiled slightly, "The usual I guess. He charmed the socks off me."

Joey nodded quietly carefully choosing her next words. "Is he nice?"

She shrugged, "One doesn't use the word nice to describe Dawson Leery."

"Oh�then how would you describe him?"

"He's...he's...passionate." She said. "He works hard and...and plays even harder." Part of her didn't know why she was telling all this to Joey. But the alcohol had loosened her tongue, and Joey was just so approachable.

"And he's so passionate and determined with everything he does, that it's hard not to admire it in him. Hard not to love him for it," Joey added softly speaking from her own experience.

"Yeah," she frowned. "Damn him for getting married."

Joey paused thoughtfully staring out the windshield. "I used to know a guy just like him�"

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah�He was possessive and abusive...Dawson's not like that is he?" she questioned with feigning indifferent curiosity.

"I-I wouldn't say...possesive." She stuttered. "He's...he doesn't want to lose what's his." She shook her head. "He's not abusive...he just...forgets sometimes...how strong he is. He's passionate and he gets caught up in it." She spoke. "We really...it happens on accident."

Joey smiled bitterly in recollection. "Yeah, he doesn't mean it." She pulled up in front of Lucy's apartment building. "Well we're here. Do you want me to walk you to the door or do you think you can manage?"

"I'll be fine," she nodded, "I just need my house key."

Joey shut off the car pulling the key out of the ignition. She handed the ring to Lucy. "Here you go."

"Thanks, Joey." She fumbled with the door handle for a few minutes before finally managing to get it open.

"Not a problem."

She climbed out of her seat and headed inside, stumbling slightly as she walked. She paused at the doorway and gave Joey a small wave as the doorman let her in.

Joey smiled watching her disappear inside before turning back to the steering wheel, her mind going over her conversation with Lucy. Her eyes fell on the clock on the dashboard. It was still reasonably early. She'd just make one more stop before she headed home.