Joey sat at the edge of the dock behind her house and frowned at the unmoving surface of the creek. She inhaled quickly on the cigarette lying in the fingers of her left hand, flicking the smoldering ash at the end into the creek. It was a nasty habit, Joey knew, but one that had kept her relatively sane while learning the inner workings of the club, where there was always someone who'd let you bum a cig. It was quiet outside and Joey could hear the night wind rippling through the trees. If she craned her neck in just the right direction she could almost make out a light shining in the window of Dawson's house. When Joey was 9, she had read Anne of Green Gables and convinced Dawson they should have a signal system with candles and cardboard to signify when they had important news to tell each other, just like the characters in the book. That was put to a stop fairly quickly by her mom when Joey had waved her candle so enthusiastically one day she'd nearly set the curtains on fire. She almost grinned at the memory, but her brooding would have been interrupted. At this point she could probably walk on the water of the creek down to Dawson's house naked and he wouldn't even see her. A set of headlights suddenly swept over the dock, interrupting Joey's nostalgia, and she tensed, quickly hiding her cigarette hand under the dock, but when she turned it was only Pacey's truck swinging into the yard. He jumped out, slammed the door and made his way over to the dock.

"Hey." His monotone greeting sounded as bad as she felt. "I went by the club but they told me you had the night off." Even though her big plan to snare Dawson's attention hadn't worked, Joey'd said she wasn't about to give up the money she made working at the club for some "part-time $3.50-an-hour 'Want fries with my fresh hell?' job at the local burger joint."

Her voice dripped with the sarcasm. "Yeah, for good behavior." She dragged on the cigarette again and exhaled a fine cloud of smoke. Pacey's eyebrows arched and he leveled a surprised glance at her as he sat down next to her. "Smoking, Josephine? Haven't you heard? 'Tobacco is whacko if you're a teen.'" His voice dropped into a gruff authoritative mimic of the cheesy voiceover the anti-drug council was using for all their PSAs.

"You think with all that tax money they could come up with something a little less 1970s," she grimaced. "No lectures, okay dad? I picked it up from the girls at the club; it calms my nerves before a show."

"Well, I guess it's better than valium, but Jo, don't you think that just the fact that you don't want to get on the stage without being under the influence of some pretty nefarious substances should tell you something here?"

"Pacey," she said warningly, "stop hall monitoring me." Joey took another drag and blew some smoke at him. She slid her left knee up to her chest and rested her elbow on it as she flicked more ash into the murky waters. "Besides, I'm only nervous before I go onstage. Once I'm up there, I'm fine. In fact…" she stopped abruptly.

"What?"

Not meeting his eyes, she stared at a particularly twisted knot in the wood on the dock. "Well...I kind of like it. I mean at first I was horrified, but I …I feel different when I'm on that stage." She snuck a look at him, but Pacey's face was placid, calmly listening. "Not like myself, I mean. Like I could be anyone I want up there, sophisticated or playful, powerful…even sexy." She blushed slightly and looked to see if he was laughing at her.

But he only grinned. "So Potter's got a raging sex drive after all. I knew it. I knew that deep down under all those layers of morality you were hiding a roaring hormone machine just like all the rest of us poor schlubs."

Joey rolled her eyes and playfully nudged his thigh with her foot. "Cut it out." But she was laughing. "Speaking of roaring sex machines, what are you doing here anyway? Thought you had a-and I quote- 'Hot Prospect' lined up for tonight."

He frowned. "More like lukewarm. Actually, more like braindead. Rebecca Matthison may have a killer rack, but her incessant prattling about the new wardrobe she just bought at the Gap with Daddy's platinum credit card was disturbing my concentration."

"So you bagged on a date with a girl that you told me was a 'sure thing' to come here and rag on me about smoking? C'mon Pace you can admit it."

"Admit what? I told you she had more air in her head than a Goodyear blimp."

"Right!" Joey exclaimed. "As if Mensa membership was ever one of your qualifications for female companionship." She swung her leg down and turned to sit side by side, laying a hand on his arm. "Pacey, it's okay to admit that you're still upset about Andie."

He didn't answer, and Joey took his lack of protestation as agreement. A morbid silence blanketed the night, as they sat thinking about their respective miserable love lives. Joey felt the desperation creeping over them and decided she was sick of feeling sorry for herself. Ever since she'd first gone to Dawson at the party, she'd been dwelling in self-pity and now Pacey seemed dangerously close to slipping into the same funk. She decided it was time to take some action.

"So you're here moping over a girl who cheated on you with a certifiable nutcase and I'm moping over a guy who nearly turned his loss of virginity into a free performance for the whole high school. We are two very sorry individuals." She looked at Pacey and saw a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips and decided to bring out the big guns. "You know what we need don't you?"

He sighed and looked at her hopefully. "To get thoroughly trashed and follow it up with an all-night marathon bout of headbanging sex?"

"Exactly." Joey beamed.

Pacey's eyes widened in surprise but he slung an arm around Joey's shoulders and opened his mouth ready to offer a slick proposition. Guessing his intent, Joey cut him off. "NOT with each other!" She pushed his arm off her and poked him in the side. "Let's get out of here! I'm sick of claustrophobic Capeside. I want new blood. I want to flirt with cute guys who don't know I'm the equivalent of this town's idea of trailer trash."

Pacey started to protest. "You're not-"

But Joey cut him off again. "And you Mr. Witter should not pass up the chance to test-drive this infamous charm your always boasting about on someone who doesn't know your whole sordid history."

"But how are we supposed to-"

"You've got the wheels and I've got the dough." She grinned as she pulled a wad of cash-tip money from last night's take at the club-out of her pocket and fanned it in front of his eyes. "I KNOW you have a fake ID and if I wear one of my work outfits I can pass for 21." He still looked skeptical. "Besides, bouncers always go easy on the girls. C'mon Pace, what do you say?"

He looked at the pleading expression on her face and found he couldn't say no...and to be truthful, didn't want to say no. Maybe she was right...at the very least he was always ready to get out of this town. "Alright, Potter, but if we get in trouble, I'm telling the cops you forced me.""

Her grin was so swift and genuine that Pacey found it hard to breathe for a second. "Excellent! I just need to change my clothes, sneak past Bessie and lie about where I'm going and we can leave." Pacey watched her run back up to the house and heard her call out, 'Bess, I'm going out with Pacey' and he pushed all his misgivings out of his head. He was going to have fun tonight if it damn well killed him. And when Joey stepped out of the house less than 10 minutes later decked out in a tight slinky black dress and serious heels, he thought it just might.

Forty minutes later, they pulled up to a random bar just over the Rhode Island line. Twenty anxious minutes spent gaining admittance and they were in. Pacey ordered a gin and tonic for Joey and grabbed a beer for himself, then turned to scope out the possibilities. Luck was on his side, as a petite blonde in a tight top came up to the bar next to him and ordered a slow gin fizz. Pacey decided there was no time like the present for making his move. He cleared his throat loudly and leaned over to the blonde.

Sitting on the other side of him, Joey observed this with merriment, she arched an eyebrow, thanked the bartender for her drink and settled in, sure Pacey's attempts at conquest would be good for a laugh. She could barely make out what he was saying over the din of the crowded, smoky bar. "Excuse me, but you look really familiar. You were on the cover of Vogue last month weren't you?"

Joey nearly sputtered into her drink at his lame attempt at a come-on. The chick Pacey was hitting on caught her watching over his shoulder and rolled her eyes commiserably at Joey before turning and walking to a spot further down the bar. Joey chuckled into her drink. Pacey turned around with narrowed eyes. "Potter, you're cramping my style and scaring away my prospects here. You want to go lurk somewhere else?"

Joey snorted. "More likely, it's those hideous pickup lines you're trotting out that are scaring away your 'prospects.' Do you really think any girl with more than two brain cells bouncing around in her head is going to fall for a tacky, not to mention unimaginative, clunker that slobbering lounge lizards have been laying on them since the dawn of time?"

Pacey held up his hand like a stop sign. "You're just jealous because my smooth moves aren't intended for you."

She nodded her head in mock agreement. "Ri-ight. That must be it. I think I'll just get out of the way of this train wreck waiting to happen." Joey walked over to a low banquette a few feet back from the bar, sat down in a position where she could clearly read Pacey's lips and prepared to watch the parade of humiliation sure to be marching his way.

Pacey turned to the seat she'd vacated where a pretty young Latina woman had taken up residency. Joey watched as he leaned over, gesturing and flashing a smile that made her teeth ache with insincerity. She checked her watch, it was nearly two minutes before the girl walked away. Joey caught Pacey's eye and raised a big thumbs up in his direction.

She settled back and pocketed the cigarette she'd bummed off a cute, but obviously gay guy that walked by the booth. Joey mused about how unfair it was that gay men were generally so much more desirable than the straight ones. She watched with limited interest as Pacey was rejected in succession by a tall redhead, a dangerously skinny blonde, a cute, animated Fillipina, and finally a striking African-American woman. At least he was an equal opportunity offender.

Joey decided to take pity on the dejected looking creature slumped on his bar stool. She walked back over to the bar. "Well, Pace, congratulations, I think you set the record for most rejections under a minute." She smiled at him in amusement, but he just squinted menacingly back. "I tried to tell you that women are not going to respond to your verbal equivalents of a wolf whistle."

Openly pouting now, he glared at her. "I don't see you being so successful, Dr. Ruth. Why don't you make a move on someone and let's see how you like getting rejected."

Joey looked dismissively around the club. "There's no one that interests me here."

"Ah, I see. So once again all that big talk by Miss Josephine Potter, was just that."

"No! I told you, I just don't see anyone that interests me."

"Yeah, sure. Justify it however makes you happy, but I know the real reason. You're scared. Tough little bad girl Joey Potter is just too afraid she'll be rejected by a guy-again." Joey winced, but said nothing and Pacey instantly felt bad for the low blow he'd dealt. Before he knew it, he heard himself offering, "Try it on me.""

She looked at him like he was nuts. "What? You want me to try and pick you up? Pacey, if this is another one of your heavy-handed ways of propositioning me…" Pacey gulped his drink down, and slammed it a little harder than he intended on the bar, signaling the barkeep for another round. "Quit stalling, Potter. If you think my come-ons are so bad, let me hear you come up with something."

She looked at him for a minute then said, "Fine." She turned away from him, then shifted in her seat and looked over as if seeing him for the first time. She smiled at him and pulled out the cigarette she'd been saving for later and said, "Pardon me, would you have a light by any chance?" Pacey grabbed some matches from the ashtray at his elbow and lit the cigarette, she now had pursed between her lips, cupping his hand around the flame as she inhaled. She removed the cigarette with her other hand and smiled breezily at him as she blew out the smoke. "Thanks. I'm Joey."

Pacey gripped her hand and said his name, playing the interested stranger. But when Joey began talking about how cute the decor of the bar was and then went on to ask him where he was from, he stopped her. "ERRRRR. Wrong Potter. Thanks for playing though."

Joey dropped the act and the smile. "What? Why'd you interrupt me?

"Because I didn't think you'd appreciate me snoring in your face maybe? It was too slow, Potter, The thing with the cigarette was good, sexy, but I don't want to discuss the merits of dart boards and neon brewski signs as interior design choices. You took too long; I lost interest. I'm already staring over your shoulder scoping out the door."

"What?! Pacey all I said was 'This is a cute bar. I've never been here before. Are you from around here?' You're telling me you lost interest in the space of three easy-to-comprehend-even-by-your- feeble-mind sentences.ten

"Absolutely! Instant gratification, Potter. That's what it's all about. You can't be subtle in a bar. Men need constant stimulation. You think I'm saying to myself, Wow, she has nice manners. No way. In the first 30 seconds of meeting a woman, men are thinking one thing and one thing only: What kind of lay is she?"

Joey scoffed. "You are truly a pig, Pacey."

"Hey, truth hurts Josephine, I know. But I'm telling you, all that passing the time bullshit doesn't cut it."

"So, basically, you're saying I should just save my breath, maul you and drag you out caveman-style?"

He grinned. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

"Yeah, well I don't believe you. There's no way a guy could get turned on by guerilla tactics.

"Fine. Don't believe me. Try it. You'll see."

She looked at him quizzically for a moment, then stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and slipped out of her seat. Pacey turned back around and paid the bartender for his second beer, then pivoted to watch the drama unfold. Joey as tigress would be something to see. But instead of seeing her making a beeline for some preppy dude by the pool table, Joey had walked back to the entrance across the room and was now heading back towards him, her gaze locked on him with a look that could only be described as "very aggressive" in her eyes. Shit, he thought, I didn't mean to try it on me.

His eyes watched her pace towards him, her stiletto heels clicking on the floor almost in time to the steady bass of the '80s hard rock song playing on the jukebox, her every curve accented by the clingy and very brief black shift she was wearing. Pacey narrowed his eyes at the hemline, wondering if it was possible that her skirt had gotten shorter in the past five minutes. Her hair was loose and it swung against her shoulders as Joey strode the final steps to stand between his splayed knees. Without saying a word, she placed one hand on each of his shoulders and hooked her right thigh over his left. Before he knew it, Joey had somehow managed to silkily slide into his lap facing him. Still staring into his eyes, she slid closer, her arms twining behind his head, her fingers rifling playfully through hair. Pacey put his hands on her thighs, prepared to push her off and tell her that her little game was not going to work, but he was distracted by the feel of soft bare flesh under his fingers and he looked down to see her provocative position had caused her already short dress to ride further up her thighs, revealing the same kind of garter and stocking set that had so transfixed him the night Joey had passed out at the club. This time the lace was black though, and Pacey was definitely not thinking about how innocent she looked.

Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away and opened his mouth to put a stop to this but Joey just laid a finger over his lips and leaned forward, causing her shoulders to hunch slightly and her rather impressive cleavage, which rested just below his chin, to become even more impressive. Her movements taking on a feline quality, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, her warm breath tickling against his skin. "Don't say a single word. The minute I saw you sitting here, I knew I wanted you. I can already feel you -- hard, deep, throbbing inside me. I don't want you to talk. I don't even want to know your name. I just want you to take me home right now and fuck me -- all… night… long."

At that, Pacey's mind blew into a million pieces. He felt positively numb from the earlobes down. Hearing Joey Potter's voice verbalizing such incredibly erotic images was just beyond his comprehension. The only reason he hadn't cum all over his jeans right there was because somewhere inside the dark recesses of his brain he understood she wasn't really talking to him. She was just pretending, just proving his point as he'd dared her to. Slowly, reality seeped back into his consciousness as he felt her moving off him, his hands, which he'd subconsciously moved up to grip her hips as she'd whispered to him, dropped by his sides and she slid off his lap to stand gracefully in front of him again.

Joey tried to hide a grin as she stood in front of Pacey, who looked completely shellshocked. In a normal voice, she said "So, you're telling me that's what men want? You want someone to come in and practically rape you on your barstool?" He didn't answer, but her question had been mostly rhetorical. She shook her head in mock-pity. "There's a word for men like you, Pacey. It's pathetic." She twisted around back to the bar and took a long swallow of her drink. She put the glass down and turned back, prepared to walk away, but before she could move, Pacey stood up and leaned in close to her, one arm on each side of the bar behind her, fencing her in. Even with her added height in the heels, Pacey was taller than her and his broad shoulders made Joey feel like he was looming over her.

She looked up at him challengingly, but the way he was staring at her stopped her from making the smart remark about personal space hovering on the tip of her tongue. He was staring at her unflinchingly and with an odd look in his eyes. For some reason, the stare made her nervous, and even though it was just Pacey, Joey wondered for not the first time, if she'd perhaps taken their game a little too far. Suddenly the barroom seemed smaller, the air thickened with tension and anticipation and all Joey could think about was him being so close. He bent his head, bringing his forehead close to hers but not quite touching, and Joey's eyes were drawn to his mouth, wondering if he was actually going to kiss her and marveling that she might actually want him to.

But he didn't kiss her. Instead, he growled very slowly and deliberately, in a broken, husky voice. "Well, there's a word for women like you, Potter." He brought his arms in tighter around her and leaned closer, his body pressing lightly on hers, their foreheads banging briefly together, his lips almost brushing her own. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as his lips formed the word "Dangerous."

He dropped his arms and retreated, walking toward the far end of the barroom. Joey shivered slightly where she stood, then smiled. She turned to the barkeep and ordered another double.

*****

"I still don't understand why you wanted to leave so early. I was having fun."

"Yeah enough for the both of us from the looks of your impromptu dance routine on the pool table." Pacey grumbled, still upset that Joey's attempt at seducing him had ruined a perfectly good evening. For some reason, he just couldn't concentrate on any of the other women in the bar after that. "Remind me never to let you touch a gin and tonic again."

So she'd had a little too much to drink. Pacey hadn't exactly been a teetotaler himself. A Big Mac and fries at a rest stop an hour ago had sobered them both right up. "Well, remind me to scream bloody murder the next time you decide to haul me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and march out like some…some… Cro-Magnon superman!" Pacey grinned in spite of himself as he turned the car onto Joey's street. He'd definitely liked her better the first time she'd called him that-when she was unconscious. "Please, a few more minutes and the bartender would've knocked you off himself. Those spike heels you've got on were doing serious damage to the felt."

She snorted and crossed her arms. "Men!"

A few minutes later, he pulled the car up in front of the cottage and switched off the motor. Light spilled through the kitchen window, cutting through the darkness and illuminating a worn patch of dirt and grass. "So how are you planning to get back in the house dressed like Catwoman here and smelling like a…well, like a bar, without Bessie seeing you? Speaking of, I'd think she'd have some choice comments about the new Joey Potter and her rather riveting ensembles, no? How is she letting you leave the house in the mornings looking like you're in search of the nearest street corner rather than schoolroom?" Joey didn't look up, busy rifling through her purse looking for her keys. "I don't leave the house like this, do you think I'm crazy? Switch and pitch."

Pacey stared at her blankly, and she looked up at the silence, barely suppressing a sigh that conveyed how absolutely idiotic she thought he was. "I drop a bag out my window behind the bushes in the morning. I leave the house looking like Pollyanna and come home at night the same way."

"I always knew you had a sneaky, devilish side just waiting to come out."

She rolled her eyes and went back to rooting through her bag. Anyway, Bessie's got a double shift tonight, she's not supposed to be home from work till two, she left Alex with Bodie's aunt. She'd kill me if she saw me now. I wouldn't be able to leave the house till I was 35."

"Well, then I hope you enjoy prime time, because there's a light-" The words died on his lips as Pacey saw a figure that looked an awful lot like Bessie Potter come banging out of the screen door and striding down the lawn towards the car. At the same moment, Jo pulled her keys triumphantly from the recesses of her bag and saw his flummoxed face. "What is it?" she asked in confusion, starting to turn slowly to follow his rapt gaze.

Pacey snapped into action, doing the only thing he could think of to distract Bessie. Hurling Joey's purse on the floor, he slid a hand under her hair, cupping her neck, and pulled her to him, kissing her with such force that she wouldn't be able to turn around. With one eye, he saw Bessie stop halfway across the grass, her hands on her hips, bend and squint at the car. Shit, she was curious. He figured if Bessie saw the kiss, she'd go back in the house and wait to ream Joey out, buying her time to at least change her clothes and think up some semi-plausible excuse for why she smelled like a Budweiser ad.

He could feel Joey's hands pushing on his chest and she was making little whimpering sounds that he knew would erupt into full-blown screaming as soon as he backed off. Still, those whimpers were damn sexy. This wasn't how he'd wanted their first kiss to be…first real kiss anyway. Oh well, no going back now. Bessie was still standing there, as if she knew this might just be some trick at her expense, and Joey was going to unleash the fury of a banshee on him in seconds. Pacey slid his free arm around her waist and pulled Joey closer against him, trapping her hands so she couldn't beat on his chest anymore. He closed his eyes, hoped this worked and tilted his head, preparing to deliver a kiss so absolutely phenomenal that it robbed her of her power of speech, along with all of her other senses. Pacey turned all his attention to kissing Joey, forgetting about Bessie and Andie and Dawson and the fact that they'd hated each other with a passion until a few short weeks ago. Now he had another use for that passion. He poured every desire and longing he'd ever had into this kiss, stroking her neck gently with his thumb as his tongue slid inside her mouth, stifling any protests she might have had. His hands roamed over her back with a mind of their own, sliding over soft skin and silky material, his fingers pressing into her flesh. Joey's hands were gripping his T-shirt now, her fingers twisting the thin material, as she tentatively responded, flicking his tongue with her own. Pacey felt the beginnings of an unbelievable hard-on and before he was tempted to do something he'd regret, he released her.

Joey opened her eyes, completely stunned and fell back into her seat. Her face was the shade of a ripening tomato and she was staring at him in shock. Her mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. Four times she tried to say something, but her breath just puffed out on the first consonant. Finally she managed to squeak, "What was that???!"

Pacey started to speak, slowly, "I saw-"

But Joey had regained her composure and was already gunning with both barrels. "I can't believe you did that. How could you…what were you…Why?"

Joey jumping in with the reaction he had so completely expected, somehow managed to re-establish his equilibrium. He clapped a hand over her mouth to shut her up and pointed to the house, where Bessie was clearly outlined against the sheer curtains. "She was coming over to the car, and that was the only way I could think of to make her turn around. I didn't think you'd appreciate staring at your wallpaper to the ripe old age of … 35, did you say?" He let his hand fall.

She blushed again, deeper this time, and simply said, "Oh." As Joey watched Bessie walk away from the window, she tried to stop mentally hyperventilating. Her brain was doing little summersaults like a trained circus animal. Pacey had kissed her, but only because Bessie would've killed her had she seen what her little sister was wearing. But my God, that kiss had been amazing. Joey dismissed the thought with a quick shake of her head. She wasn't going to even consider anything so ludicrous as her actually enjoying kissing Pacey. She had bigger problems right now, she had to change in record time and get into that house. Opening the glove compartment she pulled out the wad of fast food napkins she'd stuffed in there earlier and flipped down the visor over her head. Quickly she scrubbed at the makeup she'd put on, thanking God she hadn't bothered with the heavy eyeliner and mascara she usually wore. Since she'd been leaving Capeside, Joey figured she didn't need it tonight. She ran her hands quickly through her hair, trying not to think about how Pacey had been doing that very same thing just moments earlier. Then she took a deep breath and turned to Pacey, who was watching her with amusement. "Well, thanks for the…uh, entertainment. It's been an interesting evening." She wrenched open the door and jumped out, dashing across the grass to the shrubbery under her window before Bessie could come back to look outside.

Pacey's eyes followed her as she emerged from the bushes a mere minute or so later, looking remarkably normal in jeans, a sweatshirt and an old pair of sneakers. As he started the car engine and pulled away from the curb, he shook his head. "Interesting, huh?" He sighed. "That it was, Josephine. That it was." He was grinning as his taillights receded into the night.

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