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Hello!

Well, I don't quite know how I promised it by then end of last week and instead it took me almost to the end of this week, but here you go!

Thank so much! You guys are the best. I hope you enjoy!

Love,
Juliet

A Trick of the Light
Chapter Thirteen

~-~*~-~

With beach sand sliding and shifting beneath his feet, Pacey trudged up through the dunes until he hit the sun-baked wood planks of the boardwalk. He adjusted his hold on Meg, her little round body as wet and slippery as a fish in her swimsuit, before carrying her through the piney shrubs and sea grass into the backyard.

As he padded up the steps of the deck, the summer sun beating down on his bare shoulders, he found his brother Doug there waiting with Amy. Her damp blonde hair was slicked back of her face and she was wearing a hooded towel.

"Look at what we got for baby Meg!" she announced with excitement and delight.

There on the deck, strategically placed right in a shady spot under the porch canopy, was a small plastic wading pool. It was shaped like a giant green sea turtle with rubber tub toys floating in clear water.

"Ah…perfect," he grinned. As much as Meg enjoyed a dip in the ocean with her dad, she clung to him somewhat fearfully when the bigger waves rolled in, and her chubby legs were now glazed with ocean salt.

Amy threw off her towel. "Come on, Meg!" she called out encouragingly and with unwavering certainty, positive that the baby could understand her every word. "I'll go in with you!"

Pacey waited until she hopped into the little pool and took a seat; then he carefully lowered Meg down to sit with her between her legs for support and balance. Amy wrapped her arms protectively around, laughing as Meg babbled and splashed at the surface, reaching for the floating ducks and brightly colored plastic fish.

"I've got her," the little girl assured him.

"Ah…okay," Pacey chuckled, but as he went to take a seat at the patio table with Doug, he dragged his deck chair a few inches closer just the same. He watched the two girls playing in the shallow water a moment before he glanced at his brother. "This is a nice little set-up."

Doug grinned from behind his sunglasses, easing back in his lounge chair. "Yeah…I almost forgot we had it. But I remember it came in very handy for Amy. She'd bring half the beach sand home with her inside her swimsuit at that age, so she got to play in the water and get cleaned off at the same time. Jack used to like to tell people we had a hot tub out on the deck."

Pacey only smiled as he returned his attention to the plastic pool, reaching out a hand to caress Meg's damp locks when she beamed up at him through all her happy splashing.

"I usually have to give her at least one good soak in the tub to get her cleaned up before Joey gets home from work," he admitted. "There's something about the combination of rice cereal and applesauce that transforms into the consistency of cement when dried onto skin or hair."

Doug chuckled. "Yeah…I came in on just the tail end of that phase with Amy. Luckily we were moving onto finger foods by the time I was in charge of daily feedings. It's a whole new world…" he murmured drowsily, soaking up the soporific rays.

Pacey glanced at him, realizing he finally had the chance to ask someone else--someone who might finally understand.

"Speaking of, um, whole new worlds?" He hesitated on a slight frown. "Did you have any…oh, wariness, perhaps…when it first came to the diaper changing thing with her?"

Doug furrowed his brow from behind his dark sunglasses. "Well, bodily functions are never pleasant to deal with," he observed. "You should visit our holding cell the morning after we've had to give a bed to some drunk for the night…"

Pacey scratched at his chin. "Eh, I didn't mean the function part so much as the, ah, body."

Doug smiled slowly, understanding.

"The thing is," Pacey continued more discreetly, lowering his voice, "I thought it would be weird, or seem inappropriate somehow-like an invasion of privacy. And when I first got there, I realized it was completely unfamiliar territory to what I knew." He arched an eyebrow to joke. "Though I realize it's probably all uncharted waters to the likes of you."

"Yeah, I'll just have to take your word for it," Doug drawled with a smirk.

"But I don't know…" Pacey mused with a thoughtful smile. "I gotta say that feeling passed pretty quickly. I mean, I was her dad, you know? Suddenly, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world."

"Probably can't get much more natural," Doug agreed with a small snort of laughter.

Pacey chuckled, realizing he'd been missing out on this. He didn't know too many guys his own age who had kids, and appreciated the opportunity to swap stories and get some advice. It would've been nice to have his brother there all along, but by the same token Pacey liked that he figured so much about parenting out on his own, through some on-the-job training. It only made him feel that much more connected to his daughter and, by extension, to Joey.

The thought of her made him reach for his wristwatch, having left it on the table when he stripped off his t-shirt to head down the beach. Doug must have noticed him check the time.

"You're picking Joey up at the train later?"

"Yep, she gets in at 6:30." Pacey sank back in his chair to relax as he wrapped the watch back around his wrist. The remnants of lunch still covered the table--cold pasta, salad and chicken. He reached for his watery glass of lemonade, downing what was left of it. "Then I think we might go grab a bite to eat at the Yacht Club. Surprisingly enough, their outside deck is pretty kid-friendly this time of year--even for the dinner hour."

"No, not so surprising," Doug responded with a thoughtful sigh. "You see it happening a lot lately. I know the beach club right down the street used to have Saturday night cocktail parties for the members-now instead it's all family clambake and barbeque nights. Definitely the recent trend."

Pacey only murmured his agreement, once again leaning over to check on Meg. Amy was now singing her a song as she made the rubber ducks dance along and the baby was completely fascinated and enthralled by the show.

"So you three seem to do that a lot, huh?" Doug shifted in his chair to glance at him more directly. "Go out as a family? I know guys at the station are always mentioning they see you around town together at different places together."

Though he spoke with a somewhat lazy murmur as he lounged in the late afternoon sunshine, something about his brother's question felt like a sharp poke to Pacey's conscience. The fact that today was the first time he'd been here to hang out at the beach house since his ugly split with Andie had not been mentioned at all by either one of them, but he still felt like the implications hung there in the air a bit, unspoken.

And there was that loaded word again. Family. Perhaps it was his sense of guilt resurfacing, but Pacey wasn't sure how his brother meant it. After all, it wasn't so long ago when his day-to-day family life only revolved around them--Doug, Amy, Jack and Andie. Now, however, there was Joey and Meg.

As much as he still felt bad about things, Pacey could never pretend that he'd want to go back to how it used to be before. He had a feeling the two of them could manage to fill the space of a hundred other people in his life, and then some.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied carefully, the corners of his mouth turning down.

"No, I mean--I think that's great," Doug was quick to explain. "After everything you and Joey have been through, it's nice to see that you made it through intact, and are still supportive of each other…and spend so much time together. It's obvious how much you still care about each other, and for Meg. I guess it just makes a person wonder, that's all."

"Makes a person wonder what?" Pacey asked uncertainly, more confused now than he was wary.

Doug was gazing out in the direction of the beach and shrugged a shoulder. "Why you two aren't together."

Pacey's frown only deepened. No one wished he had a good response to that question more than he did. It certainly wasn't because of him. As always, it would seem all the answers lied with her.

Once upon a time Pacey didn't think she was asking herself the right questions, but now he wasn't even sure if she was questioning it at all.

As innocent as it may have been, in both its delivery and underlying motivation, he'd relived her kiss about a hundred times since that afternoon last week. It was safe to say that Joey Potter still had the ability to take his breath away, even when that wasn't her intention--especially when it wasn't her intention.

That wasn't to say he'd bought the house expecting her to reciprocate in some way. He didn't presume a gift of real estate would cause her to respond with such an uncharacteristically candid show of affection. Still, ever since he'd been toying with the idea of maybe buying her a small business complex or mini-mall.

When you spend most of your days trying not to think about wanting to kiss someone, it's rather difficult to maintain the same sense of self-discipline once they go and decide to kiss you.

"It just seems like there was so much standing in your way before," Doug continued, but his quiet, gentle tone held no accusation or recrimination. "And now you have this beautiful baby daughter, a seemingly great relationship, you just found yourself a nice little home…it's like all the pieces are falling into place. You and Joey…well, you make sense together, now more than ever. It's obvious you still care for her. I just wonder what might be holding you back."

This time, Pacey's lips parted but before he could form a reply he was distracted by the sound of the sliding glass door. Glancing over, he saw Jack emerge out onto the deck fresh from his day running the summer soccer camp, his gray t-shirt and dark hair still damp with sweat.

There was a moment of hesitation before he met his gaze with a faint smile.

"Hey Pacey."

Pacey returned the smile of greeting, feeling a small but swift rush of relief. He wasn't a hundred percent positive his brother even told Jack they would be here, so he had been slightly nervous in anticipating his arrival home.

"Hey."

"How'd it go?" Doug asked, craning his head back to glance at him.

"Good…we had a good day," Jack replied with a nod of his head. Grinning, he went over to the pool to gaze down at Amy and Meg still playing together. "And it looks like you guys had a fun day, too."

"Baby Meg loves my duckie song," Amy informed him, glancing up just briefly.

"Well, what's not to love?" he laughed.

Doug poured him a glass of lemonade from the pitcher and Jack reached over to take it with a sigh of thanks before leaning against the deck rail. A slightly awkward silence stretched out between the three of them for just a moment, as if they were out of practice and unused to warming up with small talk.

"So did Doug tell you about Andie?" Jack finally asked, glancing at Pacey over his lemonade glass.

Pacey furrowed his brow a little. Apparently they were skipping the small talk altogether and moving right into the big leagues. His eyes darted to his brother and back.

"Um, ah…no," he said, fumbling with his response as he tried to strike the appropriate tone-as if there was such a thing as 'contrite interest' or 'sincere yet apologetic curiosity'. "What about her?"

"She's taking a job at Roger Williams down in Providence," Jack explained, gulping down another swallow of his drink. "I guess it's a really great opportunity. Apparently they're affiliated with the BU School of Medicine now as a teaching hospital, which, you know, was always a dream of hers. It's a pretty big deal-I guess a lot of people were up for the position. It's going to be a huge advancement for her." The corner of his mouth curved into a faint, wry grin as his voice deepened. "So don't go thinking the big move is about you or anything."

Pacey chuckled, briefly at a loss, as surprised by the news as he was the fact Jack could still manage to joke with him.

"And she's going back to McPhee, by the way," he added with a more evident smirk.

Pacey guffawed softly. "Well…can't blame her there." Then he nodded his head, more genuine in his response. "Good for her, though. I'm happy for her…though we all knew she had bigger and better things in store than the clinic, right?"

It was something he and Jack had discussed once upon a time, when the most important thing they both had in common was that they loved and cared for Andie.

"Yeah…" Jack agreed quietly, and Pacey was glad that he seemed to understand that not necessarily all of that had changed so much.

There was another small lapse of silence before Doug spoke. "Maybe you guys should talk before she goes."

Pacey glanced at him again, more dubious than before. "Would she?" His gaze shifted back to Jack, suddenly feeling nervous about the mere prospect. But the last time he saw Andie was from across a conference table in a lawyer's office, and he honestly hated to think that's how they would leave it. "I mean, I'd like to--if you guys think it's a good idea."

"It might be," Doug offered. "For both of you. I don't know…"

But he stalled there and they both seemed to be waiting on Jack's response, which would effectively be the final word. Gradually, Jack seemed to soften, nodding his head as he gazed down into his lemonade.

"I think she could probably benefit from a little closure," he agreed quietly.

"Okay, then." Pacey released a sigh, and felt like a little more of that weight was lifted.

"Da-da…" From the pool, Meg stretched both arms up towards him to come out.

"All done, baby girl?" Pacey reached down with a dry towel to wrap her up.

As he lifted Meg into his arms, she immediately snuggled against him, obviously worn out from all the excitement of her day. He briefly rummaged around in the diaper bag under the deck chair to come up with a bottle and, smiling, he gave it to her. Meg grabbed it in her chubby fists, greedily bringing it to her mouth with both hands as she squished her soft, pillowed cheek flat against his bare chest with a contented sigh. Pacey chuckled, draping the towel around her as he dropped a kiss on her head.

"She really is gorgeous," Jack noted, his smile softening even more.

Still idly playing with the toys in the plastic pool, Amy suddenly spoke up.

"Was baby Meg born inside her mommy's tummy or inside your heart?" she asked.

Pacey stilled with a furrowed brow and faint frown, frantically looking to Doug for help.

"We were explaining to Amy that some babies are born inside their parent's hearts, if not inside their tummies," he explained with some humorous patience.

"Yeah…" Jack gave the little girl an affectionate grin. "And you're really lucky because you had it both ways--with your mom and now with us."

Amy smiled, obviously pleased with this, but then turned back to Pacey, still waiting on an answer.

"Where did she come from?"

"Um, Meg came from…Joey's tummy," he said, using the utmost caution and care, hoping he got it right.

Seemingly satisfied with this response, Amy resumed her water play. Pacey leaned back in his chair to get comfortable, sensing Meg was about to drift off with her bottle, but her next question stopped him short.

"But how did she get in her tummy?"

He glanced back to Doug. "I'm really admiring this progressive approach to child-rearing you two are adopting around here," he muttered in muted sarcasm.

From across the deck, his brother chuckled, briefly enjoying his torture. "And you were worried about diaper-changing being an issue…"

It was Jack who finally answered her, placing his glass of lemonade down as he reached for her hooded towel.

"When the mommy and daddy love each other, it just sort of happens that way," he said matter-of-factly. "Now how about we head inside now and change you into some clothes. Maybe we can all go grab an ice cream on the pier."

"Okay," Amy agreed cheerfully, hopping out of the pool.

Though he tried not to show too much of a reaction, one of Pacey's eyebrow arched in mild uncertainty. He knew they had to come up with some answer, and Jack gave one that seemed appropriate. Still, was that all he meant by it--just some vague, generic response to appease the curiosity of a preschooler?

While Jack's attention was on Amy, Pacey studied his face just a moment, musing thoughtfully. Then, just as he was about to close the door, Jack glanced back to meet his gaze. A faint smile hovered at the corner of his mouth before he disappeared in the house--and the look of understanding that passed between them in that moment was anything but generic.

Sighing quietly, Pacey lowered his eyes to the beautiful baby girl now asleep in his arms and smiled.

It was true Meg come from Joey's tummy, but she definitely got there by way of his heart.

Teeth clamped down around a large plastic clip, Joey twisted her damp hair up into a knot, the ends still dripping from the shower.

"I can't believe I'm running this late…" she mumbled before taking the clip from her mouth to pin the hair in place. A few curling tendrils immediately slipped loose to fall into her face and she blew them out of her eyes with a snort of breath. "There!" she suddenly exclaimed, pointing towards the upcoming side street. "The bus station is right there, on Atlantic Ave."

Glancing into his rearview mirror to check for traffic, Pacey eased over into the next lane and hit his blinker to make the turn. After a tough night with the baby, she woke too late to make her usual train. Luckily he had time in his morning schedule to get her here to Hyannis to catch a bus instead.

He furrowed his brow, lifting a hand from the wheel to scratch at the stubble on his chin.

"Won't this take a lot longer, with all the rush hour traffic into Boston?"

"Probably," Joey sighed, still weary and irritated as she scrambled to unfasten her seatbelt and gather her things. "But the next train from Capeside doesn't leave for over another hour, so I'm screwed either way."

Pulling into the bus station lot, Pacey smirked faintly as he glanced back at Meg in her car seat.

"What Mommy meant to say, sweetheart," he said, exaggerating a tone of helpful patience, "is that it's going to be a lovely drive on such a nice day."

Pausing as she reached for the door handle, Joey couldn't help but let out a tired laugh as she glanced over at him. When he met her gaze with that blue-eyed grin, however, she needed to glance away.

Ever since that kiss, as innocent as it was, she was finding it difficult to maintain direct eye contact with him for any length of time. Perhaps she was slightly embarrassed to recall it. Or maybe she was really terrified that she would be too tempted to repeat it.

Redirecting her attention to Meg in the back seat, she let out an almost wistful sigh.

"It is supposed to be a beautiful day," she said. "Do you think you might take her down to the beach again? Because I think I left the sunblock on the kitchen counter at the cottage."

"Ah…maybe, yeah." Resting one hand on the steering wheel, he shrugged his shoulder. "I'm probably going to head over to the beach house, but I actually might leave her there with Doug and Amy for maybe an hour or so."

Joey was about to get out of the truck but hesitated, somewhat surprised to hear this. She didn't mind if he left Meg there, but he was usually more than happy to take the baby girl along on whatever errands he had to do during the day. He especially loved to have her at the restaurant with him.

"Really?" she asked. "Why's that?"

"Well…because I'm supposed to maybe meet Andie for lunch." He glanced at her uncertainly. "I told you about that, right?"

While he'd briefly mentioned the possibility one night last week when they were enjoying a dinner out with Meg at the Yacht Club, for some reason Joey had placed this event somewhere far, far away in the distant future of only a vague someday. The sudden and unexpected immediacy of it hit her with a dull thud; then dropped like a stone to the pit of her stomach.

"Oh…um, yeah," she replied, trying to recover as she feigned an air of casual nonchalance.

"She's taking that job down in Providence and going to be leaving soon?" Pacey added as he narrowed his eyes, as if he wasn't quite sure if she really remembered.

Joey quickly nodded her head, not needing--or wanting--to hear any more. "Mm-hmm, yeah…so you said."

She was mildly unsettled, distracted by a strange feeling that she couldn't quite identify, an odd mix of anxiety and slight discomfort. The last thing she wanted, however, was for Pacey to think was that she had an issue with him seeing Andie--because she didn't, not even one little bit. It was his right after all. Andie was once his wife and they shared something that Joey couldn't even pretend to understand.

And their marriage had only just recently ended. In fact, it ended so recently one might be inclined to wonder how much of it was really over.

Pacey had been undeniably affected by the fact Andie dropped the unreasonable demands from their divorce settlement. It probably reminded him of her true character, and the strength of forgiveness in her heart.

But what if it also reminded him a few things in his own heart?

"So, she thinks she can probably fit a quick lunch in her schedule today." Pacey obviously still felt the need to explain and elaborate, even though Joey was now desperately wishing this conversation could just end. "And it might be the last chance I get to see her before she leaves…the last chance I get to see her for a long while, actually. I think it might be good--to get a better ending on it, you know?"

Since he seemed to be watching her rather intently for a response, Joey managed a tight smile as she reached for the door handle. How could she not know? After all, weren't they the experts on endings by now? Good ones, bad ones…they'd had them all.

"Yeah, of course."

"Jo…" Pacey's voice lowered slightly, taking on a confidential, knowing tone that suggested he was calling her true feelings into question. "It doesn't bother you, right? That I'm having lunch with her?"

She scoffed and snorted, contorting her face into several different expressions at once. "Of course it doesn't. Why would it? It doesn't have anything to do with me. So thanks again for the ride." She glanced in the back at Meg. "Bye-bye, sweetie. Mommy will see you later."

Quickly, she slid across the seat before hopping down to the ground. Pacey furrowed his brow just briefly, and looked like he wanted to say something more, but she only shut the door--effectively silencing him--and gave a wave of her hand. Since his truck was now blocking traffic in the drop-off lane, he had no choice but to drive away.

Slinging her leather bag over her shoulder, Joey approached the ticket counter with a purposeful stride, but her steps gradually slowed as she glanced back to watch his truck pull out of the parking lot to disappear down the street.

Standing there, with sea gulls circling in wide, lonely arcs overhead, Joey felt a vague sense of loss. Or perhaps it was just an acknowledgement of something she never really had.

She supposed it was wrong of her to feel anything other than extraordinarily grateful for his generosity right now. But in many ways, the house maybe only complicated things between them even more. She was undeniably excited about the prospect of having a real home for her baby girl, not to mention for herself. But lately Joey was starting to wonder if it might represent evidence of Pacey's sense of obligation where she was concerned, especially after her father questioned him about marriage and essentially tried to guilt him into 'doing the right thing'.

When Pacey bought his house with Andie, his intention was to share his life with her under that roof. But now, with this house he bought for her and Meg, it was only to ensure he put a roof over their heads. He wouldn't really be sharing anything under it, most especially not her bed.

The moments where Joey felt some possibility were nice but still few and far between. There was still a lot of room left for doubt--maybe not in her heart, but certainly in her head.

By the time the bus got her to Boston, she was almost a good two hours late for work and that was enough to throw off her whole day. Feeling rushed and irritable, distracted by her thoughts and concerns, it was difficult to focus on her assignments. As much as she tried to get through the manuscripts on her desk, every so often her gaze would wander away to check the time, wondering about that lunch date--and on which word the emphasis should be placed.

She almost felt like she stuck in this holding pattern, waiting, hoping…but for what, she didn't really know. And what if it only turned out to be something that was never really going to happen?

"Joey…" Seth suddenly appeared in her office doorway with a wide grin. "I must have missed you this morning. I came by on my way out for a coffee run but you weren't at your desk."

"Yeah, I was running a bit late," she admitted somewhat grimly. "And I've been trying to play catch up here ever since."

"Well, don't forget--we have the staff editorial meeting today at 2:00."

Joey slumped on her heavy sigh. "Great," she muttered, thinking about her deadlines. That would be at least another hour lost out of her day.

"Listen, if you're swamped…" Seth stepped into her office to lower his voice. "I'd be happy to help out. In fact, I can take some of this project off your hands today."

Joey arched an eyebrow, her initial feeling of relief tempered by some hesitancy. She was never one to pass off work, especially since she felt obligated to give her all and her very best on every assignment. So it wasn't just her sense of duty and responsibility, but also her professional pride on the line. But right now she felt like she could use all the help she could get. She couldn't afford to lose this job right now, not if she intended to start paying all the monthly household bills.

"Are you sure?" she asked with a dubious frown.

"Absolutely," Seth assured her, grabbing half the stack of transcripts.

"Thank you, Seth." Her gratitude was sincere. "I owe you one."

"No problem." He turned as if heading out of her office but then paused. "So, by the way, I told you my old roommate Jay is getting married this summer, right? Well, I finally got my invitation. It's going to be at a country club down in Osterville-in your little corner of the world. Nice place, I imagine?"

Joey nodded her head, her eyes back on her work. "It is."

"How far from Capeside?"

She shrugged a shoulder, only half listening. "Only a couple of towns over."

"Huh…well, come to find out," Seth continued with a sigh, "it's not going to be a big wedding, under a hundred people, but I'm like the only guy going out of our entire group of buddies who's still tragically single."

Just the corner of her mouth turned up. "I didn't realize you considered it to be a tragedy," she murmured with some wry amusement and sarcasm.

"Well, I don't-but I'm sure I'm going to be made to feel it is with this group," Seth laughed ruefully. "I really, really hate to show up alone, and it's not likely I'm going to meet anyone in the next few weeks-so, hey, how about you come along as my guest?"

Joey's head shot up on a surprised frown.

"A few cocktails, a free meal and I promise to have you home as early as you want." One arm wrapped around the transcripts, he lifted his hand. "And before you shoot me down, just know that even putting in a brief appearance will potentially save me from an entire day of unwanted advice, sympathetic concern and the occasional random humiliation. My friends can be ruthless."

She grimaced and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, put upon the spot. "I don't know, Seth…"

He lifted his eyebrows with a hopeful smile. "I'd owe you big time."

Joey sank back into her heavy sigh, trying not to scowl, realizing he basically just used her own words against her. But, because she was still feeling the weight of her debt, Joey was at a loss for a good excuse to say 'no'.

And, somewhere deep inside her troubled, turbulent thoughts and emotions, maybe the idea of Pacey having lunch with Andie seemed to give good reason to say 'yes'.

At least she and Seth had already come to an understanding, so he was well aware that she wasn't interested in anything like a real date. That was one less thing to have to worry about.

"I guess…okay," she agreed quietly.

Seth brightened. "You'll go?"

Joey tried to smile. "If you really need someone to just put in an appearance…yeah. As long as someone can stay with Meg, that is."

"Great, excellent!" Seth grinned. "And I promise you'll have at least a little fun. Trust me, you won't regret it."

Joey nodded her head, blowing out a quiet sigh to mutter under her breath once he left her office.

"That'll be a first…"

Stepping out into the afternoon sunshine, Pacey held the door of the small café and waited for Andie to exit behind him. With the town's population almost tripled in the summer months, neither one had been able to find a parking spot close by. So after a brief but awkward pause on the sidewalk he offered to walk her down the block to her car, delaying the inevitable just a bit longer.

Lunch had been nice, considering the circumstances. Neither one really ate all that much, both were quiet and just slightly uncomfortable, perhaps just discovering that once you've already come to an end there really isn't a lot more to say. All discussions just lead back to goodbye.

"So…" He glanced over at her with a small smile as they walked. "It sounds like it's going to be a great opportunity for you. When Jack first told me, I'll admit I was surprised--but happily so," he quickly added. "I just never thought you wanted to work at big city hospital, that's all."

"Well," Andie shrugged, "I guess I never really gave it any serious consideration before because I had so many things keeping me here." Glancing down, she lowered her voice. "Or at least I thought I did."

As softly as her words were delivered, Pacey still felt the painful hit. He drew in a sharp breath to release it in a sigh.

Andie quickly glanced over. "I'm just being honest," she admitted with some blunt candor. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I really don't need you to feel bad for me, Pacey. Not anymore."

"I know you don't," he replied in quiet agreement, studying a crack in the sidewalk. Still, it didn't make much of a difference in how bad he still felt.

"I finally realized I have no regrets." Andie didn't seem wounded or bitter--in fact, she sounded stronger and more certain to him than she had in a very long time. "I tried to do what I could to save it, and to save us. Of course…" A faint but pained smirk hovered at the corner of her mouth. "Jack tried to tell me that all I was really doing was driving you and her closer together, but I had to at least try."

While Pacey did feel closer to Joey than anyone else right now, he didn't feel the need to argue the point, confirm or deny. He always imagined she would be a part of his life somehow, in some way, and couldn't pretend anymore to be sad or regretful it turned out to be in one of the biggest and best ways possible--as the mother of his child. He still didn't want to hurt Andie, but lying or covering up the truth just to protect her feelings was no longer an option for him either. So he said nothing at all.

"But now I'm done with the past," Andie shook her head, slowing her steps as they approached her car parked curbside. "I can't carry all that negativity and anger around with me. I have no room for it where I'm going." She stopped then, her keys in hand as she faced him directly. "So I hope you'll be happy. Because I plan to be."

Holding her gaze, Pacey just smiled. It was all he ever really wanted.

She returned the smile before quickly turning away.

"Goodbye Pacey."

Hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, he waited there on the sidewalk as she climbed in behind the wheel, fastening her seatbelt before starting the engine. Only when she pulled away from the curb did he lift his hand.

"Bye, Andie," he murmured softly.

He turned then, intending to head back in the direction of his truck, but the cool, salty breeze seemed to beckon to him on this hot and humid afternoon. So instead he wandered across the street to the public wharf, resting his elbows on an ancient piling to gaze out over the glistening town harbor.

He knew that was probably what Andie needed to say to him, and he was glad she had the chance. Pacey felt it was the very least he could give her.

A welcome ocean breeze picked up then, ruffling across the currents in the water, flags flapping overhead as halyards clanged like bells against metal poles. Boats tied at their moorings bobbed in blue water, their hulls gleaming in the summer sunlight, sails crisp and white against a cerulean sky.

And Pacey smiled as his gaze lingered. Maybe now the time was finally right for him to start thinking about what he could give to himself.

Standing outside in front of the local car dealership, Joey watched the traffic inch past. It was early evening, the humidity of the afternoon relieved by balmy breezes, and the blue horizon was stained with the warm pink hues of sunset. She detected the scent of fried seafood on the salty air, and remembered how it would cling to her clothes, lingering on her person after every waitress shift she worked here in her teenage years.

Most of the restaurants, ice cream shops and mini-golf parks on this strip of Route 28 were packed with vacationing families tonight, leaving behind their sandy cottages and musty motel rooms to enjoy the nice weather. It would probably be impossible to find a place anywhere nearby that didn't have at least an hour wait, the tourists would be all be sunburned and obnoxious and the summer wait staff would be under-trained and overworked. Still, as she glanced back over her shoulder to watch Pacey emerge from the air-conditioned dealership, the bronze of his suntan even darker in contrast to his blue polo, she entertained the idea of asking him out to dinner.

"They're bringing it around now," he said, meeting her eyes with a quick smile.

Joey only returned the smile and nodded her head. Then, after a pause, she spoke. "I'm kind of hungry," she noted casually, just throwing it out there.

She changed out of the tailored skirt she wore to work as soon as she got back to the B&B, but instead of her usual t-shirt and jeans she chose one of her short sundresses. When she emerged from her bedroom just in time for Pacey to pull up out front, Bessie appraised her with a rather sly smile. Joey ignored it, giving Meg a kiss on the head and saying she'd be home soon.

"I'm never not hungry," he returned, but simply left it at that--as if they were only sharing information.

Joey pursed her lips, realizing it would be left up to her. It wasn't often that they were presented with the chance to spend time together, especially to go out together without the baby. But, since Pacey was here to assist in her search for a new car, an offer of dinner afterwards would really just be her way of saying thanks. Just like that kiss at the house had been her way of saying thanks…kind of.

She stole another brief glance in his direction. There was still, however, another, much bigger question weighing on her mind right now--one she had been debating whether or not to even ask. She had given him the whole ride over from Capeside to the dealership to mention it himself, but he had yet to say anything. She sighed finally, folding her arms across her chest as she craned her neck, pretending to look for the salesman out in the car lot.

"So…" Her feigned tone of nonchalance bordered on disinterest. "You haven't mentioned how your lunch with Andie went today."

Pacey shrugged a shoulder with his usual amiable ease. "It went okay, surprisingly enough." Then he tilted his chin up with a slight nod of his head, looking past her. "Here he comes now…"

Joey turned to scowl faintly in the direction of the approaching car, silently cursing the guy's timing. She wasn't sure of whether she was happy or a little worried to hear Pacey's response, wishing she could have asked a few more questions and got to him to elaborate and clarify.

What did he mean by that? She wondered if--just maybe--the surprise was that he and Andie weren't quite as over as he thought. After all, Pacey once had feelings that were strong enough and deep enough for him to want to marry her. Where exactly do those go? Do they really ever leave you? Or do they just go underground, into hiding, repressed and ignored and denied, until that one steamy and forbidden night you find yourselves all alone in some hotel room in the middle of …

Joey paused in her thoughts to frown, needing to remind herself exactly who she was talking about here.

The hair-gelled salesman parked it right in front and emerged from the driver's seat, beaming and joking with his all smarmy charm as he handed her the keys for her test drive.

"Your chariot awaits, milady."

Pacey grinned when she glanced at him to roll her eyes, motioning with a gracious sweep of his arm. "After you…"

"Don't say it," she muttered, warning him.

"I wouldn't think of it." Sighing playfully, he followed her to get into the passenger seat. "In fact, I don't know where this guy gets his material..."

She smirked faintly as she adjusted the position of the driver's seat, settling in behind the wheel. "I don't know, but I'm assuming there must be a really cheap resale shop in the area."

"Heard it all before, I'm guessing?" he chuckled, easing back in the seat.

"You could say that, yeah," she agreed with a grin and then glanced over at him.

She wasn't prepared to be met with all that clear and direct blue in such close proximity, however, and her cheeks flushed as she noticed the warm gleam in his eyes. Immediately she looked away, the words suddenly tripping over themselves on her tongue, hands stalled helplessly in midair.

"So, um…how do…what do I…"

"That key the guy just gave you?" Pacey pointed out with some helpful amusement. "Turning that in the ignition might be a good place to start."

She at least managed to give him a roll of her eyes as she started up the car. It was the smallest SUV in the used lot, really just an overgrown station wagon from some angles. It had a convenient hatchback and plenty of room for a stroller in back, storage between seats for other baby gear--and it was a rather appealing metallic green with a panoramic roof. But mostly it was within Joey's budget.

She started up the engine and got it into drive, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary as she eased it forward. It only occurred to her then that the space in the front seat was much smaller than the truck, which brought him that much closer to her. There was a huge empty lot right next door, a marine yard that was empty of boats for the summer season, so instead of pulling out into bumper to bumper traffic the salesman suggested she take it for a spin around there.

"And this must be my directional?" she wondered aloud, trying to familiarize herself with the dashboard controls. When she hit the lever, however, the windshield wipers came on instead.

"I'm guessing no," Pacey replied.

She narrowed her gaze. "Ya think?"

Joey tried to turn them off, but somehow only managed to send sprays of foamy washer fluid up to flood her view. "Oh…no, no, no!" Pressing her foot to the brake to slow to a stop, she began to fumble with the controls, a sudden blast of music from the radio nearly sending her up off the seat, her nerves now frazzled.

This was just great. Now she couldn't even manage to keep her cool simply sharing a confined space with him. She really needed to get a grip.

"Hold on…" Pacey chuckled as he leaned in, but spoke with gentle patience in the midst of her chaos. "I think this is the one you want."

She grabbed for the blinker he was pointing out, but her hand somehow ended up there at the exact same time as his. It was nothing more than a brush of fingertips, a mere grazing of skin, but the jolt of sensation rocketed right through her body.

Joey froze in place, hoping he hadn't somehow felt her pulse jump. She was acutely aware of the fact his shoulder was now partially resting against her breast, leaning over so close that she could feel his warmth seeping into her body. Even though her initial instinct was to snatch her hand back as if burnt, Pacey kept his right where it was, his fingers curving around hers, calm and steady as he guided her in turning on the blinker.

The click-tick-click-tick-click-tick was nothing compared to the rapid, erratic beat of her heart.

"Success," Pacey murmured, and then turned to her with a slow smile.

Their eyes locked long enough for Joey to experience that old familiar dizzying sensation. Then he lowered his gaze. It was subtle, brief, an almost imperceptible shift, but there was no mistaking the fact his focus went to her lips. From the way his expression changed and softened, Joey was afraid he sensed the way she trembled inside, breathless with anticipation.

For just a second, she was sure he was about to kiss her--so sure that she could practically feel the tickle of his beard stubble graze her cheek, imagining the soft brush of his lips, parting hers with just a gentle thrust of his skilled tongue. It would be cool and silky, wet and hot, like fresh spring water on a summer's day, and she could drink forever without that yearning and longing ever fully being quenched. The kiss that passed between them so recently had been such a tease, only the tiniest sip. And Joey was so thirsty.

As long as she had been waiting for it, however, at the exact same moment her hopes soared, the fear came crashing in as well. Involuntarily, she tensed. But she would never know if he felt it, because Pacey was already easing back into his seat, facing forward as his hand fell away from hers.

"Why don't you take it over there and try a three point turn?" he suggested, motioning vaguely across the lot.

Joey released the breath she'd been holding in on a shaky, silent rush of air, needing a moment to recover. Resuming control of the wheel, she beat a hasty retreat, hiding out behind some sarcasm.

"I think you may be confused," she muttered. "The salesman said test drive. That's not quite the same thing as driving test, okay?"

"And what you're doing here? That's the same thing as driving?"

She shot him a look, but had to restrain her amusement when she was met by his infectious chuckle of laughter.

"Just kidding there, Jo," he assured her, and then reached over to give her knee a playful pat.

The brief graze of warm fingertips against her bare skin almost caused Joey to drive into a wall, narrowing swerving to avoid a boat up on blocks in the yard.

True to form, as much as Joey liked the car, she still felt she needed to sleep on it, completely incapable of making a spur-of-the-moment decision. So they left the dealership with her promise to be back, and she felt a small rush of excitement and promise as they pulled out of the lot in Pacey's truck. The night was still young, and her young one was now fast asleep--which left an evening ripe with possibility.

She was anxious to spend more time with him, and have the chance to talk. For whatever reason, maybe she was still a little unsettled by the fact he had lunch with Andie that afternoon. Sometimes, Joey felt like they might be inching their way back towards something, as if getting ready to take those first baby steps right along with Meg. Other times, she feared that their chance may have already passed. But there was no use in even wondering if Andie was still in the picture, and still in his heart.

It was a difficult enough struggle just to get past her own assortment of doubts and fears. Joey didn't need any extra hurdles in the way.

She sighed, posing the question in a thoughtful murmur as she gazed out the open truck window, the warm summer breeze lifting her hair. "I wonder if Bessie has any leftovers from dinner tonight…"

Pacey glanced over at her. "You didn't eat?"

She shook her head with an expression of innocence. "Nope."

"Well, why didn't you say something?"

Joey only shrugged a shoulder, but secretly bit back a smile. Here it was, the moment when he would surely suggest they go out and grab dinner. It wouldn't be a date, of course…but it would be just the two of them, together.

"I have to get back to the restaurant to relieve Aidan," he explained, returning eyes to the road. "He's got some place to go, some big shindig out on the Vineyard. He's off the rest of the weekend. But we could swing by first and I'll run in and grab you something to go before I drop you home." He glanced at her again, smiling broadly as if pleased with his own idea. "What d'ya think?"

Joey tried not to show her disappointment. It wasn't quite what she had in mind.

"That's okay," she replied, surrendering to defeat for tonight. "I have stuff back at the cottage."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She forced a smile of gratitude for his sake. "But thanks."

Moments later she was standing alone in the driveway of the B&B watching his truck drive away again down the road. Sighing heavily, she turned to trudge through the shadowy yard, listening to the ripple of creek water and the chirping of crickets as moonbeams cut a wide path across the dark and dewy grass. Slipping off her summer sandals to carry them, Joey suddenly felt a little hurt and embarrassed--which was silly, really. It wasn't like she just got stood up at prom or something.

Pausing at the cottage steps, she frowned. It was probably a good idea to stay away from any and all prom analogies where they were concerned.

When she pushed through the screen door, Bessie was curled up at one end of the little couch watching TV.

"Oh hey…you're back." She reached for the remote to lower the volume. "How did it go?"

Joey shrugged and then dropped to sit in the armchair, her strappy sandals still dangling from her fingers. "I think I might have found my new car." She glanced towards the bedroom door, left open just a crack. "How was Meg?"

"She was great," Bessie replied, stifling a yawn as she moved to stand. "She finished all her cereal and peas and went down with her bottle. I think she sleeps so much better in the big crib. And it will be even better when she's in her own room…" She arched her eyebrows with a meaningful look. "For both of you."

Joey's smile grew a little wistful. It went without saying that she was excited about the new house, but the sound of her baby girl sleeping so peacefully, so close by, had become like her own personal lullaby.

"I'm going to kind of miss her with me," she admitted.

"No, no…" Bessie shook her head with some wry amusement, but stood firm in her beliefs. "You need the baby in her own room at bedtime, trust me. And you need your own room, all to yourself, with all that grownup privacy, to do whatever it is that grownups do at bedtime."

"Mmm…like sleep?" Joey asked with a faint smirk. "Or maybe, if I'm feeling really crazy, read a little first, then sleep?"

Bessie gave her a look. "I was thinking a little bit more in terms of who might be sleeping over." Her teasing grin made a gradual reappearance. "Speaking of which, you never did tell me if you and Pacey worked out the specific terms of your rent."

"Okay, first of all," Joey replied with the appropriate amount of moral indignation--at least as much as she could muster in her current weary state, "I don't think I appreciate the insinuation. And, second of all, I keep trying to tell you--you're way off in all these comments you make about Pacey. It's like you're making these assumptions based on…what?" She lifted one hand to let it drop uselessly. "How he felt years ago, when we were in high school? That was practically another lifetime ago."

Bessie narrowed her eyes, still smiling. "And are we measuring that in terms of Meg's lifetime?"

Joey frowned at the unspoken implication. "That was different," she muttered.

Bessie sighed. "My point is that it wasn't so long ago, Joey."

"What it was," she replied dully, still dealing with the disappointment of the current evening, "was just one night."

"I don't know." Bessie had a cup of tea balanced on the arm of the couch and carried it into the kitchen to rinse it out in the sink. "I don't think you can have the kind of relationship and history like you and he have, and then try to put those kinds of limitations or restrictions on it, Joey. There can be no isolated incidents." Wiping her hand on a dish towel, she came back out to regard her almost sympathetically. "It just doesn't work that way."

"Whatever…" Joey bristled a little, remembering it was exactly those kinds of things that also might make Pacey feel obligated or have some guilt where she was concerned. History was a very tricky subject, after all. "That may or may not be the case. But I really doubt there's the possibility of something happening--because if there was, I think it would've happened by now!" Her voice spiked with a hint of frustration. "I mean, have you not been listening to me these past couple of months?"

"Oh, I've been listening all right." Bessie smiled knowingly. "But all I've heard is you, once again, trying to talk yourself out of something great."

This managed to quiet Joey for a minute, her mouth opening in response but then clamping shut when she realized she didn't have one.

"He spends every single moment of his free time here," Bessie continued, "and you can't tell me that's all about Meg, because he stays long after she's gone to bed." Laughing, she motioned towards her former seat. "In the beginning, he stayed here, all six feet and more of him, on this tiny cramped couch all those nights so he could take feedings and you could sleep. He ended his marriage, a place where he obviously wasn't happy--yet even though he's free now he's shown no interest in even looking at another woman. Somehow, though, he can't seem to take his eyes off you. He cooks for you on his every night off from the restaurant. He waits for your train at the station when you work in Boston, even when he doesn't have to. He leaves his place of business at the drop of a hat to give you a ride somewhere or help you with something. He bought you that beautiful necklace." She pointed out the baby charm Joey wore around her neck, before her voice softened to an almost pleading tone. "My God…he bought you a house, Joey."

Touching her hand to the charm to finger one of the delicate pearls, she sank deep into her frown, even deeper in denial.

"He's just caring and providing for his daughter," she tried to argue.

"Yes," Bessie readily agreed. "Because Pacey--by his very own admission--loves and adores that baby girl. So tell me…" Her tone softened again along with her smile. "Why do you think he does it for you?"

Joey sighed, her gaze going to the cottage window. Outside, she could see the moonlight shimmering in the creek. In high school, when he would walk her home at night, they would often stop a while and still out at the end of the dock, concealed in darkness from the B&B, and he would kiss her breathless.

He always claimed he never wanted to say goodnight. But then it was like she turned around and he was gone, without even bothering to say goodbye.

Bessie obviously decided not to press her for a response. Heading for the door, she affectionately brushed her fingertips over Joey's long hair as she passed by her chair.

"I'll just see you in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah...g'night," Joey mumbled after the screen door closed behind her, still gazing out at the creek.

She thought then about the words Pacey said to her more recently, sitting outside on the cottage steps with Meg that night--how there could be no such thing as 'never' between them. Sometimes it could be so easy to imagine it was really still there, just hidden beneath the surface of other things. Yet at the same time, Joey was almost scared to let herself believe.

It was like that moment in the car earlier when she thought he might actually kiss her. While she was initially thrilled, wishing and willing it to happen, if he'd actually gone ahead and done it, there was no guarantee she wouldn't have turned right around and been inclined to run. Even briefly recalling the way he touched that morning in her bedroom could still make Joey's knees go weak and wobbly, for instance--yet how quickly and agilely had she sprung from that bed? Pacey always managed to have that affect on her, some weird but equal and opposite reaction.

It all came back to the history. For her, personally, it seemed she'd never quite gotten what she wanted in life without either being disappointed by it or hurt by it in the end. Things like that can understandably make a girl more tentative and wary, especially if she was already the most cautious of optimists.

But Pacey once managed to do both. Perhaps that's why it took her twice as long to recover. Joey would never hold his past mistakes against him, though, being herself just another imperfect person in this big imperfect world. Ruled by her fear and stupidity in her younger years, she'd managed to do plenty of damage, all on her own. A part of her was still afraid, even now.

She was always more comfortable, safer even, keeping Pacey at arm's length, but she could never seem to hold herself to that. The last time they got close and she got scared, she tried to put an entire country between them and took off for LA with Dawson. Even that didn't work, and they ended up meeting somewhere in the middle. Somewhere right in the vicinity of her heart.

Now, for the first time ever, he was back in her life with some permanence. She knew he would always be there, as Meg's father. In the past, he always wished she'd have that kind of faith in him. Now, maybe for the first time, she did. Whatever doubts she had when it came to Pacey, she did not doubt his love for and loyalty to their baby girl.

So would this turn out to be the kind of assurance and security Joey always needed to take that risk and make the leap? Or was she doomed, as if by some kind of karmic retribution, to forever remain this close to him as parents to their daughter, yet never anything more than that. She was so grateful she had the chance to know and see firsthand how incredible Pacey was as a father, and the way he loved and cared for Meg touched her heart--yet it also made her longing that much more deep.

She still couldn't be sure that Pacey even wanted anything more, having been hurt too many times before. And she was afraid of getting hurt again, too. Now they also had to consider the ways in which any changes in their relationship might potentially hurt Meg.

Groaning quietly under her breath, Joey pushed her hair back off her forehead, sinking down in her seat with a weary, conflicted sigh. Maybe Bessie was right and she was just trying to talk herself out of something, once again leading with her heart but retreating with her head.

Then the corner of her mouth twitched sadly, remembering something similar Jen said to her once upon a time.

Her memories drifted back to that night in New York with Pacey, remembering how important it had been to bring him to that spot on the rooftop. Though she'd never spoken to anyone of it, she'd never forgotten the time Jen brought her there, and that eerily foretelling moment when she was struck by that vague but melancholy feeling that she would never see her again.

Of course, you can never really know the moment you're going to lose someone. That's the nature of loss. She was never really prepared to lose Pacey, either. Even when she wasn't sharing her present day life with him, Joey still held onto that hidden hope he'd be waiting in her future.

So, on that rooftop in New York, after months of being so lonely and sad in LA, Joey felt like she had a little of her oldest happiness back, standing with the boy she once loved, the man she probably always would. And she came dangerously close to an admission, feeling such a presence from Jen in that spot that she almost told him of the last promise she made her.

She could never tell him what it was, of course; only that she'd been unable to keep it. And even though Pacey could've had no idea it was about him, it nearly broke Joey's heart all over again to hear what he said. Now, however, over a year later, those same words gave her new hope.

Maybe there really was room left for one last second chance.

Placing the roller down in the plastic tray, Pacey stepped back to appraise the newly painted wall. Once they got all the ancient wallpaper down, instead of the typical pink one might expect for this room, Joey actually chose butter yellow with a pale lavender blue trim. Pacey could have never predicted it would work so well together, but then again he didn't have her artist's eye. And once he was done, she planned on painting dragonflies, butterflies and flowers to match the baby bedding and rug she picked out of some catalog. On the door, she had already hung a large floral fabric-covered letter 'M'.

Smiling, he picked up his water bottle to take a long swig and then turned off the radio where he'd been following the Sox game. Out the window, he'd just seen her car pull into the driveway minutes ago, so he headed downstairs to greet them.

He paused at the bottom landing with a questioning grin, watching as she carried a large quilt and wicker picnic basket inside the house, dropping both on the floor in the middle of the empty living room where Meg was still strapped in her car seat.

"What's all this?" he asked.

Joey blew out a sigh, relieved of her bundles. "This would be lunch."

He arched his eyebrows, surprised, touched, and, yes, a little dubious. "You made lunch?"

Picking up on his hesitancy, Joey gave him a look. "No, you did," she said with a faint smirk. "Or, at least--your restaurant did."

"Well, in that case," he chuckled, comically exaggerating his relief, "let me go wash up."

"Um…thank you might be nice!" she called after him as he headed for the downstairs bathroom.

"What? I'm sorry I can't hear you," he called back as he stepped into the small washroom to clean his hands at the sink. "I think perhaps the deterioration of my olfactory system is now affecting my hearing--since I've been breathing in toxic paint fumes for the entire week as I tirelessly and selflessly painted every single room upstairs to your exact specifications."

"Hmm…well, my auditory capabilities must be a little off as well," she replied without missing a beat, "since all I hear right now is a big baby crying." She glanced up from her spot on the floor as he returned to the living room, trying not to smile. "It must be all that time I spend with Meg, you think?"

He narrowed his gaze in playful reproof. "Yeah…must be."

She already had the quilt spread out, so he crouched to unfasten the baby before settling down with her in his arms. Since he'd been painting, all the windows and doors were wide open to the warm breezes off the Nantucket Sound, a hint of floral perfumes from the neighbor's garden carried on the salt air.

Pacey lowered Meg onto the quilt, grabbing her chubby bare feet to blow raspberries against her pink soles. The baby laughed with belly rumbles and hiccups of delight as she reached up to grasp for fistfuls of his short hair. Finally, he stood her up, his large hands clasped around her midsection under her arms as she bounced on sturdy bowed legs, kicking one foot out every so often as if eagerly trying to take a step.

"Look at those legs," he chuckled. "She's going to be a hockey player."

Joey only responded with a smile, emptying the rest of the contents of the basket, wrapped sandwiches and small containers of side salads, pasta and fruit. Finally she removed a small plastic bowl and spoon, and mashed up pieces of ripe banana to the consistency of think pudding.

"You want to give her that?" she asked, handing it to him.

"Sure." Pacey propped Meg back in her car seat and took the bowl, spoon-feeding her a few squishy mouthfuls.

"I have some fresh strawberries and blueberries for her, too," she said, coming out with another small container. "I used that food processor you got us, but I think I might've left it a little too chunky…what do you think? Are the pieces are small enough so she won't choke?"

He glanced at it as she pried off the lid, nodding his head. "I think so."

As he alternated feeding her the different fruits, Pacey watched Joey set up their lunch on the quilt. She chatted with him about a few ideas she had for decorating the house, and although he had to insert a little sarcasm or make a joke here and there, something inside his chest swelled.

There was nothing special or extraordinary about the moment, but Pacey realized he could be completely content to spend the rest of the afternoon this way. In fact, he could be completely content to spend the rest of his life this way.

For so long, he felt a kind of restless in his life, fueled by emptiness that he was desperate to fill. But right now, right here, with only the two of them, he felt complete. That 'something' inside his chest was happiness. Pacey currently had everything in his life he ever needed or wanted.

Well, except for one thing.

He smiled at Meg as he spooned out another mouthful, her legs kicking as she babbled, eager for more. She caught his grin and pressed her little lips together to nosily exhale; trying to imitate the raspberry noise he had teased her with earlier. Pacey chuckled as he dipped the tip of the small spoon in her mouth, making the sound right back. Delighted that he was playing along, Meg gave it more force and effort on her second try.

Instead of a raspberry, however, she spit out a sticky combination of banana and blueberry all over his face.

"Oh no…" Joey had just taken a bite of a sandwich and covered her mouth to laugh. Pacey paused to grumble, trying to swipe it off. "Here…try one of these," she offered, placing the sandwich down to pull out the package of diaper wipes in her bag.

Pacey took it with a grateful smirk, removing the offending bits of mush from his face before he tossed the wipe down with a comical sigh.

"I think you missed some," Joey laughed again. She leaned close, nearly bumping shoulders to narrow her gaze. "Actually, no…I think that might be paint."

She lifted her hand, her fingertips lightly grazing his short hair above his ear. "Yep…paint," she confirmed. But she didn't bring her hand back right away, and as Pacey glanced at her--nearly holding his breath in the hopes it might someone prolong even the most minor contact--her smiled softened. Holding his gaze, she grasped the curve of his ear, giving it a gentle and playful tug--something she used to do once upon a time.

As if the affectionate gesture was the most casual and natural thing in the world, she then simply returned to her lunch. Meanwhile, it took Pacey's heart rate several minutes to return to normal.

He was struck at once by the fact her touch seemed to have a new confidence to it, as well as all that gentle sweetness. It seemed to go along with all these new things he noticed about her lately, little ways in which she had changed since Meg, probably imperceptible those who didn't know her as well. But Pacey saw her in a while new light, admiring her not just for what she went through in that delivery room, but for the fact she was brave enough to decide to have a baby all on her own in the first place. He knew it couldn't have been easy for her, assuming she'd have to do it all alone.

While her attention was still focused on her lunch, Pacey allowed himself another brief glance, but his gaze was more inclined to linger. As his eyes drifted over the soft curve of her cheek, the thick fringe of dark lashes, the rosy tint of those perfect lips, he was struck all over again by the resemblances between mother and daughter. Seeing her when he looked at Meg always made him melt. But looking at Joey, really just seeing her, caused Pacey to feel a pang of longing that was so acute it almost took his breath away.

He only hoped that the yearning he felt wasn't too apparent, especially when it only seemed to increase with each passing day. He was trying really hard not to acknowledge any propriety feelings she might invoke as the mother or his child, but that wasn't so easy when she was in complete ownership of his heart.

Every so often, he thought about that morning in her bed, and how he traced that tiny pink stretch mark with the pad of his thumb. He longed to retrace every path on her body, reclaim her inch by incredible inch. In answer to Amy's innocent inquiry, he recalled in great detail how Meg got there. Now he only wished he could have felt the baby inside her, from those first flutters to the strong kicks.

He had been blinded before by his hurt and regret, feeling betrayed of that chance, only thinking of what he missed. Now, a part of him growing in her was suddenly just about the sexiest thing Pacey could imagine--like a secret fantasy come true. As if he needed another reason for her to bring him to his knees. In his life so far, he had been devoted to her like no other, his tumultuous passion for her unmatched. What he felt now was infinitely deeper. He felt completely connected, almost in the way they say some creatures mate for life, and was struck by an instinctual urge to protect and provide, to treat her with care and tend to her every need.

He realized, sadly, what he felt was what a husband or partner should feel, but there was one important element to this feeling that seemed to have been missing in his actual marriage.

Pacey was, at times, struck with the urge to get her pregnant again--or, at the very least, give it a good try. In fact, if he could, he would be happy to have about ten more kids with her, to fill up this whole house with them. It went without saying he'd be happy to try.

Despite the fact she was both the object of his love and desire, however, Pacey was determined not to do anything to make her feel uncomfortable or overstep his bounds here. Although he hoped that maybe might have been a twinge of jealousy she displayed when he told her of his lunch date with Andie, he couldn't be sure and didn't want to assume anything. Right now, he just wanted this house to feel like her home.

He didn't even mind living in the apartment downtown, because wherever the two of them were would feel like home to him. And he planned to take this feeling with him when he left at the end of the day. For now, that would be enough.

Even with the way he felt about her, Pacey didn't know if he and Joey would ever really share a home, a bed, a life. But it was something he knew he really wanted.

He knew he really wanted her.

Joey glanced up just in time to catch his look. Her forehead creased on a quizzical smile.

"What?" she asked, lifting a hand to swipe at a corner of her mouth and then at her face. "Do I have something on me now?"

Pacey lowered his gaze, quickly shaking his head as he coughed to clear his throat of all those things he couldn't say.

"No, no…I was just, um…I know you wanted to look at couches for this room," he said as he shifted his hold on Meg. "So if you want, we can head over to that big furniture warehouse in Barnstable this weekend."

"Yeah, maybe." Suddenly she hesitated. Then she frowned. "Oh, wait…I completely forgot. I have that wedding to go to on Saturday."

He arched an eyebrow, as this was the first he heard of it.

"What wedding?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "This guy…he actually went to Worthington with me. A friend of Seth's."

Pacey paused to muddle this bit of information over as he frowned. "So, like…a friend you two have in common?" he asked, trying to sort it out.

"Not really. I only vaguely knew him."

A dubious chuckle briefly crossed his lips. "But you're invited to his wedding?" Pacey's skepticism was starting to take a bad turn.

"Well, I mean…" She sighed finally, and with great reluctance, as if unwilling to come right out and say it. "I'm going with Seth, technically."

Pacey felt the color briefly drain from his face before it rushed back, tinting the tops of his cheeks red with surprise and irritation. He knew he had reason not to like the guy.

"Technically?" he guffawed, but with little humor. "You mean technically as his date?"

"It's not like that," Joey replied, immediately dismissing him with a smirk as she reached for Meg. She took the baby girl from his lap and lifted her up high, wrinkling her nose. "Uh-oh…I thought I smelled something," she said with a sigh. "I need to go change her. All this fruit might leave her with a rash…"

Pushing up off the floor with one hand, she stood with Meg and went to grab the diaper bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she headed for the bathroom, effectively ending the conversation there. And, because he didn't get the chance to ask, Pacey was only left to sit and wonder.

Exactly what the hell was it like?

Standing at the counter, Pacey flicked his wrist repeatedly, listening to the satisfying chop-chop-chop of the knife against the cutting board. It wasn't his usual practice to spend the whole evening in the kitchen, stuck at the prep counter, but tonight he wasn't quite in the mood to mix and mingle with the customers. In fact, he kind of wanted to be left alone.

Grumpy and irritable, barking out orders, he was aware that most of the wait staff was giving him a wide berth tonight, and that was just fine with him. For someone who often advised them to leave their bad moods at home, however, he also knew how much of a hypocrite it made him.

He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall from under a darkly furrowed brow, figuring that Joey must be at the wedding reception party by now. He still couldn't believe she agreed to go with this guy under the guise of friendship, thinking it was something completely innocent. Pacey knew better. That last thing this guy wanted was to be her friend.

Pacey had no doubt that Seth was interested in her. How the hell could he not be?

He reached for a bigger and sharper knife, angrily resuming his chopping and dicing.

It wasn't as if Pacey minded that Joey was out. He definitely thought she deserved to get out and have a little fun. In fact, had it been anyone else, Pacey would have encouraged her to go, insisting that she enjoy herself.

But that was the point right there. It wasn't someone else, it was that guy. And it shouldn't be that guy. If Joey was going out with anyone, it should be him.

So why did it sometimes seem that every guy in her life got a chance except him?

"Hey, everybody…sorry I'm late."

He glanced up to see Bodie had finally made an appearance, his white chef coat open over a plain t-shirt. He watched him go immediately to the line of waiting order slips, buttoning the coat as he determined where to get started. Even though he seemed ready to work, Pacey noticed something seemed a little off in his expression.

"Everything okay?" he paused to ask, barely looking up when Bodie came over to grab some cans off a shelf behind him.

"Eh, Alexander hasn't been feeling too well all day," Bodie explained. "So Bessie sent me out on an errand to pick up some things for him, but by the time I get back there to drop off the stuff and head into work, now she's looking a little pale. She says she feels okay, but…"

He left it there, but didn't need to finish. Pacey was very familiar with the Potter obstinacy when it came to admitting any weakness. Even if Bessie was feeling sick, she would inevitably claim that she wasn't.

Pacey sighed, placing down the knife before he wiped his hands on his apron.

"And I'm sure it's not helping that she's supposed to be watching Meg for Joey tonight," he acknowledged. "So…as soon as you think you've got it covered here, I should probably head over there and take the baby off her hands."

Bodie chuckled a little. "She's just gonna say she's fine and try to send you off."

"Eh, I know." Pacey shrugged a shoulder as he reached back to untie the apron. "I'm used to it."

Once he got there, however, Bessie didn't put up much of a fight. Since Alexander was sleeping soundly, she actually decided to go take some Tylenol and head to bed herself--but not before she gave him number to the country club in Osterville that Joey left, just in case she couldn't be reached on her cell.

Pacey sighed once Bessie left the cottage, frowning at the scrap of paper before he tossed it on the kitchen table. He noticed there were several cardboard boxes stacked around the living room. The new house had needed some minor work, and although he took care of the painting himself, the wood floors had to be refinished and they needed a new water heater. But now it was all ready for her move, and Joey had obviously been packing up in preparation.

Walking over to the bedroom, he carefully opened the door, but only stayed there to lean a shoulder against the wall, content to gaze in at Meg as she slept so peacefully in her crib. It made him happy to know she would soon be under his roof--or at least one that he provided--safe and sound, secure in a home of her own.

Pacey was eager to provide whatever he could, and not afraid to work hard to make it happen. Now that he was doing it for her, any professional success he might achieve suddenly had so much more meaning. It seemed she gave new meaning to all things in his life--with one notable exception.

Sighing, he glanced back at the scrap of paper on the kitchen table with a darkening frown.

There, it was always the same old story.

By the time Seth pulled his car into the pebbled driveway of the B&B to drop her off, Joey was more than ready to call it a night. While he had been a perfect gentleman all evening, trying his best to show her a good time at the wedding, in front of his friends he put on quite another show--acting like they were dating in the hopes that they might believe. He gave such a convincing performance, in fact, that Joey now had a slight but nagging suspicion that he might be starting to believe himself.

"Looks pretty dark out there," he noted with a grin, peering out the windshield. Across the shadowy expanse of the back yard, a soft light spilled out the screen door of the guest cottage. "Here, I'd better go with you."

Before Joey could protest, he had cut the engine and was already out, rounding the car to open her door.

"It's really not necessary," she said, managing a smile. "I think I can make it from here."

"Now what kind of date would I be if I didn't walk you to the door?" he said.

Since there was a definite lilt of humor in his tone to suggest he was only joking, Joey managed to bite back any retort.

"So…" He glanced over at her as they walked. "At the reception-"

Joey quickly held a finger up to her lips, inclining her head towards the pretty, shuttered windows of the B&B. Here on the Cape, in all its rustic and old-fashioned glory, the lovely cool evenings and ocean fresh air negated the need for air conditioning, so all were open to the screens. "Summer guests," she whispered in warning.

"Oh…right." Seth nodded his head, lowering his voice. "I just wanted to tell you that, at the reception, at least three of the guys pulled me aside at various points to tell me how great they thought you were. Even their wives and girlfriends thought you were great, which is quite the coup. Now they're all insisting I bring you to our annual Labor Day weekend up in Kennebunkport. Jay's family has this unbelievable house on-"

"But you told them I couldn't, right?" Joey interrupted, cutting him off with a sharp glance.

Seth shrugged his shoulder with a faintly sheepish smile. "I figured I'd leave that up to you. I mean…you had a good time tonight, right?"

Joey sighed heavily as they slowed to a stop by the cottage steps, lifting her hands to let them drop. "Yes, Seth-I had a good time, under the circumstances. The circumstances being that you needed a date and I agreed to go as friends. I thought we both understood it was sort of a one-time deal."

His voice grew even smaller, and he almost sounded like a scolded child. "Well, it doesn't have to be, does it?"

"Seth…" Joey almost laughed in disbelief, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. With just the screen door in between, she could just imagine Bessie inside right now, eavesdropping in on this whole conversation. It was nice that her life could provide such entertainment value for her older sister.

"Just hear me out!" he insisted in hushed tones, rushing to respond. "I know we work together, and I realize your situation is complicated, with the baby and all. But I want you to know that doesn't scare me off."

Joey glanced away to hide her sardonic smirk. He almost sounded like he deserved some medal just for acknowledging and accepting the fact Meg was in her life.

There was a time when Joey believed that being a single mother was going to be a very large obstacle to overcome if she was ever going to find love. She didn't feel that way anymore. Her life with Meg was so full of love there almost wasn't enough room to hold it all.

And when it came to having a man in her life, and love in the romantic sense, Joey knew the only issue standing in her way was herself.

Seth caught her skeptical reaction. "Well, what is it then?" he asked. "We get along great, have a lot in common, I find you attractive, I don't think you find me unattractive, we-"

"The reason is someone else, okay?" Joey blurted out, mildly annoyed and frustrated by his persistence. Then she sighed, resigning herself to the truth. "I think I'm in love with someone else."

Seth gazed at her with a blank expression. "You think?"

"I know," she amended with a reluctant sigh. "But beyond that it's really hard to explain. It's a very long story, complicated, confusing…maybe even a little hopeless. But there it is."

"Long story, huh?" He sighed, and a faint, sad smile crossed his lips. "So it's the guy, Pacey…the father, right? And here I'd gone and convinced myself that he was out of the running."

The corner of her mouth curved up. "No…I'm the one who's out of running."

Seth gave her a strange look, but she knew he could never understand. However, instead of backing off, retreating in defeat, he took a step closer, moving into the light from the cottage door.

"Yet you're still not together with him. Which makes me wonder…is there really nothing I could do to change your mind?" His voice deepened as he gazed down into her face. "Not even this?"

Joey was totally unprepared when he then swooped in for a kiss. Though he caught her off guard, he managed to somehow take his time with it, his lips slowly moving over hers while his hands gently cupped her face. Joey had to admit it was much, much better than the drunken one he planted on her at the train station that night, demonstrating a real skill and finesse.

It was so good, in fact, that it almost reminded her of how it felt to kiss Pacey. And when Seth finally broke away, meeting her eyes with an expression of hopeful anticipation, Joey was never so certain in her mind. Almost as certain as she was in her heart.

He must have seen it in her face, and he finally understood. Stepping back as his hands dropped to his sides, he gave her a slightly bitter smile of resignation.

"Well…" he sighed, lifting his shoulders to let them drop. "I tried, right?"

She smiled. "I'm sorry, Seth."

"No apologies." Moving away, returning to his car, he lifted a hand in farewell. "Goodbye, Joey."

Joey glanced back over her shoulder to watch him cross the darkened yard before she turned to head up the porch steps. She paused just once at the door, listening to the car pull away on the gravel drive, and then stepped inside. The television was on, the volume low, but Bessie wasn't curled up in her usual spot on the couch.

Suddenly, she heard someone clear their throat. Glancing over, she was surprised to see Pacey emerge from the shadows of her bedroom doorway.

At first, her cheeks reddened and she was struck speechless, caught, instantly mortified. He must have overheard her every word out there.

"Meg just woke up like ten minutes ago," he said quietly, ducking his head. He had a strange expression on his face, looking mildly disturbed, which didn't really do anything to assuage her fear. "But I, um …I tried walking her around and singing a little and it seemed to do the trick. She's asleep now."

"Okay…" she replied uncertainly, watching him with a faintly wary frown. Joey noticed he wasn't meeting her eyes as he spoke, which wasn't a good sign. She figured she could try to come up with some possible excuse or explanation, but really, what would be the point? If he heard what was said, he now knew. She felt a nervous thrill tremble through her, wondering if she might finally be on the verge of telling him the truth--or at least be done with denying it. "So, um…how did you end up here tonight?"

"Bessie wasn't feeling too well, so I left work to come over." Pacey shrugged a shoulder, and then brushed right past her, eye cast down. "And now…I should really be getting back to help close up."

Joey spun around, intending to stop him there with an admission--an outright declaration--but seeing him at the screen door, it finally dawned on her that he couldn't possibly have overheard any of her hushed conversation with Seth in the yard. Not from that distance on the other side of the cottage, and especially not if he had been singing to Meg. Her eyes darted back to the bedroom, seeing the shape of the crib where the baby slept, and felt a creeping sense of dread. The door was wide open.

Joey realized then that Pacey probably didn't overhear anything, but he must have seen everything. And without the benefit of subtitles, that must have looked very bad.

"Pacey…wait." Her eyes widened in mild alarm. "If you witnessed that, just now, out there-I need to explain."

He kept his head down, but she saw just the corner twitch with a wry but humorless smirk. "It isn't necessary."

She sighed, shoulders slumping. This was happening all wrong and it wasn't the way she imagined it at all, but maybe the upside was that it would force her to finally be truthful with him. "Maybe not, but-"

"Jo…seriously," Pacey abruptly cut her off, and finally made direct eye contact. His smirk darkened, and what she saw in the somber blue depths left her a little cold. "You don't have to say anything. Us, our relationship, this arrangement…we both know it's all about being parents to her. And we both know that's all it's about. I mean, that, out there? It doesn't have anything to do with me."

Joey retreated into a dubious frown, recalling her very own words to him that morning at the bus station when he was telling her of his lunch date with Andie.

"So, you know," he continued, speaking with a painfully casual ease, "if either one of us starts dating or seeing someone or whatever--well, then, that's fine. Better than fine, in fact. I mean, great…" He smiled, but she didn't see it in his dark eyes. "Good for you."

For a moment, Joey still couldn't say anything, hurt and embarrassed to feel the bitter sting of the rejection hidden inside his careless dismissal. Here she had been on the verge of admitting her true feelings to him, only to be beaten to the punch--except it seemed the only truth in his feelings for her was that he had none.

Suddenly, his words on the porch steps that evening that teased her with such hope only seemed like some cruel trick. And Joey should have known better than to ever start believing in Bessie's wild assumptions where he was concerned. There were no second chances left here. They obviously used up their quota for one lifetime.

"So, I should go," he said.

"Yeah…of course, whatever…" Joey replied, swallowing back the painful lump in her throat as she quickly glanced away. "Thanks for staying with her."

Pacey hesitated on the porch, and glanced back briefly.

"You don't have to thank me for that." He almost sounded wounded, as if she somehow offended him.

Joey shot him a faint scowl, lips pursed tight. "Then I'll just say goodnight."

Pacey returned the look, narrowing his gaze. "Yeah, whatever…goodnight," he muttered, and turned to disappear down the porch steps.

Soles of her sneakers pounding on hot, sandy pavement, Joey followed the curve of the beach road where it hugged the shoreline. From under the brim of her baseball cap, ponytail swinging in the buffeting sea breeze, she gazed straight ahead, her breath coming in measured puffs.

She'd gone at least a mile beyond her usual route this morning, up with the dawn, feeling a sense of anger and unrest fueling her forward. She hated what happened with Pacey last night. She went to bed upset and on the verge of tears, but as she tossed and turned and mulled it all over, her sadness gradually made the shift over to frustration and irritation.

Initially hurt by his words and attitude, it took Joey some time to realize that the two didn't exactly match up. Pacey claimed not to care, but everything about him seemed bothered and upset. So what exactly was the truth?

Joey didn't know, but she intended to find out.

She was supposed to be moving into the house with the baby this week, and the last thing she wanted was this weirdness between them. So she cut over, crossing the causeway to head back in the direction of downtown. Maybe it was only her picking at scabs, but Joey couldn't just leave this one alone. She felt an overwhelming urge to at least set the record straight here.

She slowed to a walk when the Icehouse came into view, feeling a slight sense of trepidation to notice his truck parked out in back. The tiny coward lurking inside almost hoped he wouldn't be here. But Joey took a deep breath to power through the hesitancy and fear, boldly marching right into the kitchen.

"Hey," she greeted him matter-of-factly, as if it was her practice to show up here every morning at 8:00 am in her jog bra.

Pacey had a stool pulled up to one of the stainless steel prep counters and was sitting there all alone, hunched over his coffee with a rather miserable slouch. Upon seeing her, he lifted his head and only blinked once, as if temporarily rendered speechless in disbelief.

"Hey," he finally replied, his expression blank.

Hands on her hips, Joey tapped her foot a little impatiently on the floor. "Is this a bad time?"

Clearing his throat, Pacey motioned towards some papers nearby on the counter. "Just, um, going over some menu changes for tonight."

She noticed then that he looked tired, sleepless shadows leaving faint bruises under his blue eyes, his short hair mussed and standing up in spikes, with at least a few days worth of beard stubble darkening his jaw.

How wrong was it that he could look so good, even now? Joey found it maddeningly frustrating that she could be so intensely attracted to him in this moment, when all he deserved was a piece of her mind.

"Well, I won't keep you," she snapped, keeping her tone sharp and focused. "I just wanted to let you know--for the record--that I'm not dating Seth. I'm sure you probably saw us kiss or whatever, but I think you misinterpreted the situation because there was nothing whatsoever romantic about it."

"Again…" Pacey made a show of yawning, as if he found some lazy enjoyment in being this constant source of irritation in her life. "Not really any of my business, now is it?"

"Well, actually, yeah. I think it is your business," she shot back in scornful disdain. "I think, as Meg's father, you should at least be aware of what's happening in my personal life…since it affects our child, to some extent."

She was rather proud of herself for that one, since she managed to both put him in his place and elevate herself at the same time. It was always better to come off as the adult, no matter how childish things got.

"Fine," Pacey muttered and shrugged his shoulder, and then he directed his attention to the menu pages. "So you're not seeing this guy…yet. Thanks for the update."

Joey narrowed her gaze, bristling at his obvious dismissal.

"What is that?"

One of his eyebrows flicked up in a measuring look. "What is what?"

She threw her hands up. "What is with the 'yet', that's what!" she demanded to know. "I just told you there is nothing going on."

"Nothing, huh?" Pacey narrowed his eyes in a level, impassive gaze, and for a moment it was like a small standoff with neither one willing to break the stare. "So you're telling me this guy doesn't even want to date you?"

Joey gaze unintentionally slid away from this direct inquiry.

He scoffed humorlessly under his breath. "Yeah, that's what I thought…"

"Look," she sighed as her hands went into motion, trying to maintain a civil tone. She was determined to talk this out. Motherhood, if nothing else, had at least taught her more patience--no matter how sorely he tried it. "I wasn't really aware of how he felt at first, okay? But-"

"Funny." Pacey lifted his coffee to take a sip. "That seems to happen to you a lot."

Joey let her hands fall back to slap her sides, her lips parting on a scowl. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, and it sounded like his tolerance for these questions was wearing thin. "Forget it. So are we done here? Because I really need to get back to work."

She appraised him with a long frown, folding her arms across her chest. "You know…if what you said last night is true, that we're only in this for Meg and whatever happens in our personal life is so fine and great? Then why are acting like I've done something wrong?"

It was as if he almost refused to look at her. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" she gasped on a humorless laugh of disbelief, hands back in midair. "And I don't think it's really fair. I mean, this whole time I've had to deal with the fact you were married to Andie, so just because-"

He shot her a warning look over his coffee. "You know the whole story with Andie."

"No, I don't!"

"I told you everything, Jo." Pacey was suddenly and gravely serious, as if they'd moved into an entirely different discussion. "I didn't keep anything from you. There's nothing you don't know."

"Oh yeah?" she shot back, feeling a surge of emotion she didn't expect. "Well, I still don't know why you had to go and marry her!"

In the stretch of silence that followed, Joey wasn't sure which one of them was more startled by her unexpected outburst, the brutal honesty of her confusion and despair so real and raw that almost made the air around them in the kitchen wince with pain.

She still remembered the day they got the news, sitting out on the patio over a late breakfast of omelets and sliced melon, enjoying another perfectly sunny morning in LA. Dawson had been absorbed in one of the trade papers, and she was studying him over her iced latte, wondering how exactly to break it to him that she had decided it was time for her to leave and go back home. Then his cell phone rang. It was Gale, up with the dawn in Capeside, calling to say Pacey and Andie were engaged.

At least it saved Joey from a potentially painful and uncomfortable conversation, since from that moment forward, home suddenly became the last place she wanted to be.

Pacey's lips parted, forming soundless shapes a moment before his voice returned, his expression softening.

"And you don't know how much I wish I had a good answer," he said.

Joey shook her head and quickly turned away, unable to even look at him. "I didn't mean-"

"No, no…it's okay," he cut in gently, all anger gone as he moved to stand from the stool, coming around the counter to stand a little closer. Joey had to resist the urge to cover her face with her hands and cower in shame before him. "I've said it enough times, so it's no secret that I wasn't exactly happy. And I readily admit I made a mistake by getting married. It just seemed like…" He paused, leaning back to rest against the counter as he scratched at his chin and sighed. "Well, back in those last couple of years before Jen died? I was really busy, almost consumed with getting the restaurant going. It took up a lot of my life, most of my life, actually…but there was a lot of reward in it. Yet at the end of the day, I still wasn't really happy. In my personal life, I wasn't quite met with the same success--you know what I mean?"

Joey was finally able to lift her eyes back to his, and she managed to meet his small smile with one of her own as she nodded her head. This was something she could understand.

"So I finally figured that what was missing was the effort. I had been kind of content to, um, to wait for someone…something…" He furrowed his brow uncertainly, casting his eyes down. "But then I had to come to terms with the fact it wasn't gonna happen. Not for--well, just not for me. So I made the effort. I'd tried a lot of things, but I never tried marriage. And Andie…well, she claimed she wanted to marry me. I figured I wasn't likely or lucky enough to stumble across that particular combination of blind faith and tireless optimism again…" His mouth twitched with his self-deprecating humor, but when Joey tried to acknowledge it with a smile she only felt the bitter sting of tears. "So I decided I should probably just go for it."

"But you loved her, too," Joey said, ignoring the soft, broken rasp in her voice as she waited for his response.

"Yeah, I did," he agreed, shadows clouding his expression. "But not really in the way I think you're supposed to love the person you're marrying. At least, I think I got that part wrong. Once those wheels are in motion, though…eh." He shrugged a shoulder, leaving it at that.

For a long time, Joey wondered what had been going through his thoughts as he stood there with Andie and exchanged those life-changing vows. Her heart used to break, imagining it. Now it broke for him.

"And for a while," Pacey had to clear his throat, "I thought we'd be okay. I liked making her happy. I really wanted to make her happy. I thought that could be enough, even if I...wasn't."

He seemed a little devastated, even now, to admit that out loud. But Joey wasn't about to sit in judgment. Not when she had been stuck in the exact same place.

"But it's not," she offered in a whisper, her gaze drifting over his face.

Pacey lifted his dark blue eyes back to hers. "No," he replied softly. "It's not."

For a brief moment Joey remembered what it had been like to stand here, trapped with him in the secret and terrible knowledge of what they did. Now, finally, she could acknowledge what she couldn't then-an awful, devastating truth they shared that was, in many ways, even more painful to face.

In just one night together, they betrayed all of Dawson and Andie's love and trust. But how many years had they wasted in betraying what was hidden inside their very own hearts?

"By the time came to these realizations, however," he continued, "I'd already made her a pretty big promise. Andie was relying on me to keep it. I felt so guilty…I at least owed her that," he sighed, and had to reach up to rub at his eye. "To stay. But in the end, I couldn't."

Joey needed to take in a deep breath and release it slowly, her chest feeling so tight it ached. She met his eyes again.

"Can I ask you something?"

Pacey only nodded his head.

"If things happened differently," she began, speaking in fragments pieced together. "Say we never slept together that night, or I never got pregnant…we never had Meg…do you think you might have?"

Pacey was listening intently but still leaned close to furrow his brow, uncertain. "Might have what?"

Joey almost couldn't say it. "Stayed with her?"

His expression shifted, and he eased back to lean against the counter a little more, blowing out a shaky sigh. But he couldn't really respond.

Joey felt like a small hole tore open inside her heart, and every subsequent breath she took only caused it to rip a little more.

"You might've….right?" she asked, ignoring a wet tear that slipped past her lashes to slide down one cheek. She didn't really need him to answer, however, not when he looked like he'd just been punched in the gut by the question.

She knew Pacey would have stayed where he was needed most. It was just who he was--a part of him. It was one of the reasons she loved him, after all. It was one of the best aspects of his character, and yet, at the same time, probably his fatal flaw.

It was the reason he had been so happy, so hopeful, so hungry for her to be the one to need him back in high school. And it was the reason he left when he felt she no longer did.

Joey could have told him, a million different times over all these years, the past decade of their lives, that she still loved and needed him as much as then, as much as ever, maybe even more than ever. But therein always lied the sad and wry irony of their circumstances. Hundreds of thousands of words had passed between them, and she prided herself in never being at a loss for a quick quip, biting remark or sarcastic retort. Yet the one thing that he always needed to hear from her was the one thing she couldn't bring herself to say.

"So…" she had to swallow back the salt of her tears. "Can I ask you something else?"

Again, Pacey only nodded his head, but there was a certain amount of defeat in his expression as he lowered his eyes back to the floor.

"Is that what's keeping you now?"

He glanced back up, frowning slightly under a furrowed brow. "What?" he asked.

"I just wonder…" Joey explained, keeping her voice steady, "if you admit you might have stayed in that other situation? After the things my father said to you…the fact I got pregnant? Is it that same kind of guilt and obligation that makes you..."

Joey tried to finish the sentence, but the knot of words kept tangling in her throat, getting wrapped up in that knot of emotion.

Pacey leaned closed, close enough to touch. "Makes me what?"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by some unexpected voices and laughter, and Joey glanced away to see some of the Icehouse kitchen staff filtering in the door. She ducked her head and quickly wiped at her eye.

"I should let you get back to work."

Pacey reached out for her, but she turned too quickly to go, slipping right through his grasp.

"Jo…wait."

"I'll just see you later," she mumbled, and was back to running by the time she hit the door.

Pushing off against the rubber toe of her tennis sneaker, Joey grasped onto the frayed cords of rope, mostly letting the breeze dictate the motion of the tree swing.

The scent of summer blossoms hung sweet in the evening air tonight, but every time the wind would shift she could taste the ocean salt on the tip of her tongue. Listening to the music of the crickets in the marsh, an occasional bullfrog piping up from the tidal creek, Joey leaned her head back as she swung to and fro.

Starlight shimmered in broken pieces of the nighttime sky overhead, while dappled moonbeams filtered through the swaying pine tree branches with a pearly, almost ethereal glow.

When Joey was a little girl, she used to wonder what was up there, past the limits of blue sky. Sitting on the earth, gazing up at the clouds drifting by, she wondered if it was the same as sitting at the sandy bottom of the ocean, gazing up at the bottom of boats. She wasn't sure if she believed in the idea of heaven then, but figured it was a little bit like that--with angels at the rudder, guiding the sails.

She remembered sitting on this swing with some similar thoughts one day not too long after her mother died. Of course, the swing was next to the old dock at that time, and instead of silky blades of grass her toes would graze cool currents of the creek. The numbness of shock and denial were starting to wear off by then and, as she swung, gazing out over the water, Joey had only begun to realize what she'd lost.

Here she was with no anchor, just one tiny person left adrift in this great big ocean of a world. There was no one really to care anymore if she finished her homework or brushed her teeth. No one to make her favorite chocolate cake on her birthday or warm cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. No one to remember that she hated raisins or that dust made her sneeze. And there was no one waiting for her to get home; no one who would be worried if she was late. There used to be one person whose whole purpose was to care for her and love her no matter what, and that person was gone. There was no one left.

Then Joey thought about how she could simply slide right off this swing and into the deep, cool depths of the creek and no one would even notice or care she was gone. Enveloped in the cold, murky water, sinking into the slimy reeds, she remembered gazing up at the bottom of her rowboat, and wishing it could take her back home--the one she used to know.

Then there were splashes, muffled voices, arms lifting, a million bubbles spiraling up to break the surface and then the rush and gasp for air. Breathe, dammit, someone whispered, begged, and brought her back.

The next thing she remembered was sitting, crumpled on the edge of the dock under the hot summer sun, her soaked tank top and denim shorts clammy against cold skin, shivering as she listened to Dawson rant and rave. What were you thinking, he wanted to know. How could you scare me like that? What would I do if anything ever happened to you?. Joey sulked and frowned, scoffing and protesting, denying that she'd tried somehow to hurt herself, and told him to just calm down. Yet, secretly, she swallowed down some tears with the brackish water, inordinately grateful, sadly thrilled to know there was still someone who cared. She had Dawson as her life preserver, the preserver of her stolen childhood. From that point, it became all about hanging on.

There was one part of that memory however, that didn't resurface for a lot of years. But it was what she recalled now. Not Dawson, voice raised and arms flapping, his dry hair blowing back in the wind off the water, but Pacey, standing behind him, chest heaving as he scowled, his t-shirt sopping wet and hanging past his waist, shorts dripping. There was a moment, a brief and fleeting second, when Joey looked past Dawson and their eyes met. He held her gaze a beat, shook his head slightly, and then simply turned and trudged away.

They never spoke of it again, but it was always him. He was right there, if she could have just opened her eyes.

She hated that fight they had this morning, and hated that she'd probably created all this weirdness and animosity between them now. Typical in her bad timing, she didn't feel comfortable going ahead with the move into the new house if this was how it was going to be--despite the fact most of her things were already packed.

Glancing back at the little cottage where Meg slept so peacefully in her crib, Joey blew out a weary sigh. She hoped to give her daughter so many things, but most of all she wanted her to have a sense of security and stability in life. She wanted Meg to know she'd always have someone there to catch her if she fell, arms to lift her back up when she was down. Joey wanted her daughter to be able to trust in all the things that she never could, and know that some things are forever.

"Hey."

Joey quickly turned her head, surprised and a little startled to hear another voice break the peaceful hush of the summer's night. Her heart clenched and did a little backwards flip inside her chest as Pacey approached from the shadows of the yard to slow to a stop right in front of her, and she jabbed the toe of her sneaker in the dirt to stop swing short.

"Hey." She greeted him with some quiet surprise. He only ducked his head with a small smile, his hand tucked into the pockets of his trousers as he glanced over at the creek. Grasping the rope a little tighter, nervously rubbing her thumb against the rough twine, Joey had to swallow in order to speak. "I, um…I thought you were working tonight."

"I got out early."

It occurred to her then that he hadn't seen the baby all day, and her tense posture relaxed slightly. That's obviously why he was here.

"Well, unfortunately, you missed her," she said. "She went down kind of early tonight. She's already asleep."

"Yeah, I figured she would be." Pacey shrugged his shoulder, glancing down at the ground. "I actually came to see you."

Frowning, Joey studied him warily while his eyes were lowered. "Why?" she asked. She really wasn't prepared right now to continue what she started with him this morning.

Pacey sighed then, easing a step closer as he took his hands from his pockets to reach up and lightly grasp onto the ropes. Holding the swing in place, so close that her knees bumped and brushed against his leg, he cocked his head to gaze down at her.

"Why do you think?"

Joey stole a tentative glance up. The position of his lean, strong arms on the swing enhanced the bulge of his biceps, and the Icehouse polo clung to the hard wall of his chest, riding up just a little to expose a strip of his tanned and muscled lower abdomen. Spying just a tiny glimpse of that dark trail of hair, her heart lurched, caught briefly in the sweeping sensation of desire.

His blue eyes were as wide open and clear as the summer sky, even when cast in evening shadows, but she wasn't certain what it was she heard in his voice.

"Is this about this morning?" she asked. "Because I-"

"No," Pacey cut her off gently, with a slow shake of his head, and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a soft, inscrutable smile. In this proximity, she could almost feel the way his deep voice rumbled up through his chest when he spoke so tenderly like that, and it sent her heart racing even faster through hers, causing goose bumps to spring up on her smoothly tanned skin. "This isn't about this morning. And this isn't about the other night, or some other guy. This isn't about your father," he continued with a sigh, "and it's not about me feeling guilty."

Joey tried to figure out exactly what that left.

"Then what's it about?"

Pacey gazed down at her a long moment, the slow drift of his gaze traveling over her face like a caress.

"Someone asked me recently why we're not together," he finally said. "And I realized I didn't have a good answer. I didn't know why."

Although it felt like her heart leapt up to lodge in her throat, her bottom lip trembling, Joey managed to get it out a broken whisper.

"So it's about getting an answer?"

His smiled made an almost imperceptible shift. Touching a hand to her chin, he tipped her face up and slowly bent his head.

"No…" he murmured just before he touched her lips. "It's about this."

The kiss, gentle yet electric, initially stunned her, but then its heat surged through her, pushing every doubt and fear out of its way.

Softly lingering, with achingly familiar tenderness, his mouth moved over hers, molding it to his. With only the slightest urging, Joey's lips parted willingly on an involuntary moan. Pacey swallowed the sound before deepening the kiss in slow, sweet increments, the tip of his tongue brushing against hers before retreating, then plunging back in her mouth on a smooth, sensual slide, full of tender passion.

He was cupping her face, stroking her neck, fingers buried in her hair, his tongue continuing a gentle probe, exploring and rediscovering as he made a thorough, delicious sweep of her mouth. Even if she wasn't sitting on this swing, Joey was pretty sure she would have felt like she was suspended in midair, floating.

Her heartbeat sped up until it was soaring, sensations exploding, the warmth of increased blood flow rising as she savored every soft stroke of his tongue, feeling it everywhere. The kiss went on and on, full of lust and longing, stealing away her breath, yet making her feel more alive than she had in a very long time. The intense chemistry, the anticipation, the passion and intimacy were like nothing else Joey had ever known--maybe not even with him. It flipped her inside out, melting her bones, leaving her thrilled yet exhausted.

After what felt like a small eternity, yet far too soon, Pacey finally and reluctantly broke away, giving one last gentle pull to her bottom lip as he sighed.

He pulled back to meet her eyes, brown mirroring blue.

Breathless, she waited.

"I think…"

He hesitated there, seeming to be a little out of breath himself. Joey almost couldn't bear the torture, poised on the brink. Finally he got it out.

"I think I would very much like to take you out on a date."

Her eyebrows arched, momentarily speechless. Then she realized he was honestly waiting on her response.

"Um, I…I think I would like that too," she said, still flustered and uncertain.

A slow smile spread across his face, warming his eyes. "Okay then. So we'll go on a date." Then he took a step back, still smiling at her. "I guess I'll just see you tomorrow."

Joey lips parted soundlessly before she could reply-but it came out more like a question.

"Yeah, okay…tomorrow."

Lifting his hand slightly in a partial wave, still wearing that grin, Pacey simply turned to go, like it was just any other evening.

"G'night, Potter."

She stared after him as he disappeared back into the shadows of the yard, listening to the soft rev of the truck engine before tires crunched on the gravel drive, returning her to the dreamy moonlit landscape, the whisper of wind and the chirping of crickets the only sounds to break the peaceful quiet by the creek.

"Goodnight," she murmured, helpless to say anything else.