This was my fifth fic, and the second not to end with someone dead or equally ticked off with the world. That habit of mine dates back to when my sister
and I were seven or eight- we used to amuse our brother by writing pretend jacket-copy for a twisted and bloody version of The Babysitter's Club series in
which the sitters went nuts, met grisly ends, and generally behaved poorly- so it was hard to break it.
But this story was for another of the monthly challenges, and the guidelines specified that the setting was graduation, the phrase "rock the casba" must be used, someone must trip while receiving their diploma, Pacey must bare his butt...and that if I wrote a fic, it had to have a happy ending.
So this was my apology for all the mope that had come before, and all that I knew would probably come after. Because, ya know, habits have this annoying habit of returning, lol.
There are days when the smell of summer hangs in the air; the sky is so blue it seems like the whole world is an underwater city and strangers could be friends. There are hours that seem to slip through the cracks between your fingers on the remote control as you sit watching TV with glazed eyes, and there are minutes where the universe smiles upon you, allowing you to reach the McDonald's counter at 10.29, just before the narrow window of hangover breakfast opportunity slams closed for another day.
And then there are those moments when Jack wished he had never heard of a guy named Pacey J. Witter.
Wiping a hand over his sweaty brow, Jack shifted and the movement disrupted his precarious perch on the narrow ledge. He swore softly under his breath as he steadied himself and glanced at the brown-haired man crouched in similar discomfort, before peering back down to the crowd seated twenty feet below.
This was definitely one of those moments.
"Are you ready to go?"
Joey checked her watch and looked back up the stairs, impatience flickering across her face like a lightning storm. A muffled affirmation floated down to meet her where she was standing in the foyer of the house and she rolled her eyes, wondering if that were true, why the hell weren't they down there now.
She cast her gaze over the familiar surroundings; in the four years they had all been in Boston, she had come to love Grams' house like a second home, and with everyone leaving, heading to far-flung places, even if it was just an apartment the next street over like in Jack's case, she knew she would miss it dearly. But right now, having spent the last half hour staring at the slightly drooping flowers on the sideboard as she waited for the two upstairs to get their act together and for Pacey to arrive with the car, she could honestly say she didn't want to be there for another minute.
"We're going to be late!" she yelled up again, then heard the door open behind her and stumbled forward a little as it bumped her in its course.
" You're late."
Pacey merely shrugged at her reproach, taking in the otherwise empty surrounds. "So where are the others?"
Joey sighed and tipped her head towards the stairs leading up to the second floor and Pacey followed her nod with a smile tracing a faint path over his lips. He returned his gaze to her, taking in the dark tendrils that had escaped the pins of her upswept hair, the thin silk of her blue shirt cascading over the swell of her breasts like a ribbon of sky, the delicate smudge of color she was working on erasing as she bit anxiously on her lower lip. Before he could think about it, Pacey reached out and smoothed the crease in her brow with the gentle pad of his thumb and her eyes, dark pools with hidden undertow, jerked up to meet his. He drank in the brief contact like a man with rum desperate to forget, and the emotion in their depths was laced with the same dark bittersweet, heavy with the pungent sense of what he already knew.
"You said yes, didn't you?"
The loud scuffle of feet on the stairs crashed through the moment and Pacey dropped his hand back to his side as Joey turned to shoot a glare at Jen and Jack for their tardiness. Jen blew a kiss and skirted around her, pulling Jack in tow out the front door and Joey turned back to Pacey, her crooked smile not managing to erase the disquiet his question had surfaced. But she simply asked "Are you ready to go?" and he tugged the keys from his pocket and nodded.
"So did anyone bring the crack?"
"Is the jaded, graduated-last-week girl planning on buzzing through the entire ceremony?"
"I just thought it might help combat the soporific effects of long-winded speeches that tend to prosper at these things."
"Ah, cocaine, our last line of defence"
Pacey glanced up to the rearview mirror to see Jack nodding sagely at Jen in the backseat, and fingers of a smile worked at the knot that had tied around his heart. Turning his attention back to the road, easing to a stop at a red light, he felt Joey shift in the seat beside him.
"It's a visual arts school," she shrugged at them in the backseat, "Maybe they'll skip the addresses and just go for a film or picture that, you know, encapsulates the sentiment."
Jen gave her a dubious look, leaning hard into Jack as Pacey negotiated a sharp corner. "You really think Dawson would've lasted four years at a place where words and their overuse was not held in the highest esteem?"
Acquiescing with a wry smile, Joey faced the front again. "So there'll be speeches."
Pacey caught her in the corner of his eye, her smile fading on her lips, her gaze skimming over the traffic ahead. She seemed so far away, like he was driving a cab but instead of the backseat, it was her that was enclosed by a bulletproof partition, and he wished someone had thought to build one around his heart.
There had been speeches before- Audrey's sunny goodbye that was smudged with tears when she had returned to LA halfway through junior year to pursue an acting career; "If I wait till I graduate, I'll be playing Sarah Michelle Gellar's mother and besides, from what I hear, the restaurants there are in desperate need of wannabe actresses for waitstaff. So you see, it's all a matter of supply and demand, and there's enough crazy here."
Or Jen's drunken declaration of enlightenment after a break-up; "Five pairs. Five pairs. That's how many socks I have apparently sacrificed this month to the washing machine gods so they don't shrink my favorite sweater or something. Of course, I still have one of each pair, but that's like Coke without rum, or rum without a bottle, or me without Michael and with rum- big old mess. But it's all come real clear to me what is to be done, what purpose these widowed woolies are supposed to serve- Are ya ready for it?" She had lowered her voice. "Sock puppets."
And then there had been Jack's very much sober and slightly more succinct announcement at the beginning of sophomore year; "Hey guys, I've decided to do law." "Yeah?" "Yeah."
But none of them had torn through his chest, lead-tipped words he hadn't wanted to hear richoceting through an open door, as Dawson's announcement had two days ago. Like a clumsy bar brawl, he couldn't remember how it had started, had only a dim recollection of the feel of the punches, but the memory of how it had ended was still raw in his mind; "Come to California with me, Jo."
The parking lot was crowded, everyone else seeming to be cursed with a similar punctuality deficiency, and Pacey frowned slightly at the prospect of weaving through the chaos to find a space.
"Why don't you guys go grab us seats while I park?"
Seatbelts unsnapped eagerly in agreement and he braked as Jen and Jack pushed Joey's seat forward, climbing out with waves and "See ya over there!". The car shuddered as the door was slammed roughly shut and Pacey edged it forward with a glance over at Joey who had remained inside.
"Someone has to make sure you don't make a run for it and leave us stranded here," she answered his questioning look with a small smile.
Pacey gave a hint of a shrug and he manouevred the vehicle around a straggling group of parents and friends. "Gale's got a car."
Joey felt a sheen of tension form over her skin like sweat at his short reply and unconsciously raised a hand to her brow as if to wipe it away. Silence settled again as Pacey pulled into a space and when he shut off the engine, the click of his seatbelt seemed muffled in comparison to the noiseless din of emotions.
"You said yes, didn't you?"
There wasn't any question to his question this time, and Joey turned to him, her breath slipping out in a quiet exhale. She brushed over his expression, her gaze catching on the jagged edges of his acknowledgement.
"Don't look at me like that, Pacey." She avoided his eyes, their blue depths prone to making her seasick with indecision about things she had told herself were certainties for so long, and glanced out the windscreen. "Just because he didn't swoop in and steal my breath and make my heart bang against my chest, it doesn't mean I'm settling."
Like the hand he had reached out to smooth her frown with earlier, his words slipped out instinctively, silently begging her to take hold and not let go. "Doesn't exactly point to love either, Potter."
Joey turned her gaze back to him, a shade of skepticism drawn over the truth in her eyes. "And what would?"
His mind told him to retreat, not to throw himself into the fray again, and he stifled the other whispers with a glimmer of an offhand smile. "Sweaty palms, for a start," he suggested.
"And breathlessness and a pounding heart?" Joey returned dryly, her own smile lighting her dark eyes. "Sounds like symptons Jen would be experiencing if she had that crack she was asking about."
Pacey flashed a grin in concurrence, slipping out of his seatbelt. "It is a drug."
"What, cocaine?"
"Love," he corrected simply and Joey's mocking demeanor faltered at the word formed on his husky tongue.
She scrunched her nose a little to cover for it and eyed him with curiosity guarded by an apprehension she was not willing to name. "Why are you still so concerned with my life?"
But he didn't answer, pushing open the car door and stepping out instead, and Joey was suprised to find her hand on the latch was trembling, ever so slightly.
They found Jen and Jack sprawled across four seats, a dozen rows back from where the bank of graduates were seated at the front. When Pacey eased in past the knees of the others filling the row, Jen stood, asking if he would mind their spaces while she went to say hi to Dawson. Pacey nodded and as Jen wriggled around him to join Joey who was waiting in the aisle, the heels on her shoes digging into the soft grass of the lawn, he slid into one of the vacant folding chairs. Jack waved to them, promising to inflict bodily harm on anyone who attempted to steal their place, then scooted over into the seat next to Pacey.
"You find a park?"
Pacey chuckled blackly. "Nah, I just left it running out there in the lot with the keys in the ignition- they have valet at these things right?" His foot tapped against the leg of the chair in front of him and although he had just sat down, he fought an overwhelming surge of restlessness.
Jack ran a hand through his hair and raised an eyebrow at his friend's wisecrack. "The talk went well, huh?" He smirked as he suddenly had Pacey's full attention, blue eyes narrowed in denial, chuckle dissolving on his tongue and foot stilling.
"What talk?"
"You know," he elaborated casually, "The one where you tell her that you never stopped loving her and that if she goes to live with Dawson in California she'll be ruining your life too, not just her own."
Pacey opened his mouth to refute Jack's claim, but caught himself for a moment. "You don't think she should go with him either?" he asked sharply.
Jack's mouth twisted up at one corner wryly. "It's not my opinion that matters."
Holding his gaze for a beat, Pacey then glanced away, dismissing any implication with an impatient exhale. He scanned the crowd seated before them, the sea of blue caps up front curbed by the stage, the glimpses of scaffolding behind the huge velvet "Congratulations Class of 2005" backdrop that towered above it, and turned back to face Jack.
"You ever get the sense of deja vu?"
Jack chuckled, his eyes rolling with sarcasm. "With you guys as friends? Never."
A lazy grin began to inch over Pacey's lips as he gestured to the scene that lay before them. "We had this view last week at Joey's graduation, right down to it being partially obscured by a woman with a ridiculous hat three rows in front."
He had kissed her cheek that day, Joey, not the ridiculous hat woman, crushing her in a hug as she laughed. Her tears had spilled onto his shoulder and he had known then that he would never be able to explain why she had his tears on hers.
"So I think we need a change."
He straightened in the seat, the quiet agitation having reached his hands now, and his thumb tapped against the dark blue material of his pants. It seemed to be marking the passing seconds and for each one that fell to his lap, the moment that she would be leaving crept closer, like a shadow across his heart and it was a thought he tried to dislodge with a rush of recklessness.
Jack peered over the people's heads. "What, you wanna sit on the other side of the aisle, or further back?"
Drawing his gaze away from the faculty members milling around the side of the stage, Pacey shifted his eyes to meet Jack's, glinting with a dangerous mix of mischief and disquiet.
"I had somewhere else in mind."
Trying to ignore the trepidation in his steps, Jack trailed Pacey into the aisle.
"Do I get to know what we're doing?"
Pacey pulled on the lapels of his dark blue jacket, straightening it over his untucked white v-neck t-shirt. "Sometimes, Jack, you just gotta rock the casba."
He grinned impishly and nodded toward the stage. Jack narrowed his eyes, still having no idea what Pacey was proposing they do. "I'm pretty sure that line was 'sometimes you just gotta say what the fuck'" he muttered. He was also fairly certain he didn't want to know what Pacey was proposing they do, but for lack of any excuse aside from a nagging fear of imprisonment, he followed his friend down the grassy aisle.
"How are you going to talk about your misspent youth when you have no stories to tell, McPhee?" Pacey responded to his grumbles as they made their way up to the front of the stage.
"My check bounced," Jack replied, "I've got no more youth to spend, wisely or unwisely."
Pacey chuckled. "Oh, Old Man River, cry me one- you're going to be making money hand over fist in a few years." They moved around the edge of the stage, crossing in front of the pending graduates in their blue gowns and Pacey could almost feel Dawson's questioning gaze on him.
"I didn't realize that lawyers were part of the sex industry"
"Jack, what you don't know about the law could fill the Grand Canyon, hence no graduation for you today."
Rounding the side of the stage, Jack felt his stomach shrivel slightly as he took in the huddle they were approaching. "I do know that we're too old to be charged as minors," he muttered warily, "Don't make me intimately familiar with the state prison system as well."
Before Jack could give in to his growing inclination to run, Pacey announced their presence to the small group of faculty members and guests of honor waiting to be ushered onstage.
"So nice to meet you, Mr, uh, Ludkin," Pacey heard the man's name as another guest introduced himself. "I appreciate being asked to attend today."
Jack clung to the faint hope that the ground might swallow him whole as the bearded professor eyed Pacey with confusion.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?" he apologized, thrown for a moment by the sudden declaration.
Pacey on the other hand, appeared completely unfazed, flashing a winning smile as he held out his hand. "Jablomey, sir. It was a last minute arrangement, I didn't know if I would be able to make it back to this coast, you know, filming schedules and all." He shook the professor's hand enthusiastically and the man nodded, not wanting to seem ignorant of something he was obviously supposed to be aware of.
"Well, Mr Jablomey," Ludkin regained his composure, "We're very glad you could make it." He turned to Jack and offered his hand. "And you are?"
"Jack McPhee," he blurted without thinking and shook the man's hand limply, cursing his lack of glibness.
"Very smooth, 007," Pacey chuckled under his breath as Ludkin moved away and Jack scowled at him before a guest came up to them. Pacey had been betting on people's instinctive need to not seem ignorant, and judging by the others' polite nods and smiles as they were introduced, it was working. He smiled as another of the guests approached.
"Well hello, Mr Jablomey, is it?"
She was a woman in her late forties, probably a member of the board and Pacey kicked his smile up a notch, not entirely sure where he was going with this ruse. "Call me Haywood, ma'am," he shook her hand and introduced Jack as his business partner. "We make documentaries, back on the west coast," he invented, "We're actually taking time off from one we're working on now."
The woman frowned slightly in recognition. "Oh, I think I've heard of your work." Jack smothered a snicker and Pacey coughed slightly as she raised her painted eyebrows in interest. "What is the subject of your current piece?"
Pacey glanced over at Jack who shot him a fierce look, silently urging him to say anything and Pacey turned back to the woman, his expression blank.
"Uh, well," he took a breath, stalling for a second, then, "It's about the art of vivisection in the twenty-first century- we're presenting an in-depth look at the limitations placed on the craft both publically and personally."
The fantastically bad lie slipped off his tongue seamlessly and he coated it with a charming smile that the woman, although clearly taken aback, could not refuse.
"Is there much call for that sort of thing these days?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to appear rude and Jack died another death, trying to hold in his guffaws.
"Oh sure, ma'am," Pacey managed to keep his voice silky smooth with sincerity, "It's a genuine creative outlet for those with uncontrollable impulses of the..." Pacey was grateful for the interruption of a professor asking if they would take their seats onstage now; he didn't think his smile alone would buy the woman's belief if he had continued in that vein of rambling.
As they climbed the steps up to the stage, Jack hissed in Pacey's ear incredulously, "Vivisection??" and Pacey shrugged, offering his hands. "What was I supposed to say?" Jack stopped behind him. "How about anything but that?"
They smiled and nodded to Mr Ludkin as they sat in the neighboring chairs and Jack threw an apprehensive eye over the few remaining seats. When somebody figured out they were two chairs short, the game would be up, and, he thought with a despondant glance out at the crowd, their lives would be over.
But the dean who had emerged from the other side of the stage just sent an assistant to bring extras and when Pacey jokingly offered to let one of the stranded sit on his lap (Jack muttering Sweet Jesus, shut up), the others assembled had laughed and politely declined. So they stayed put, and from his seat on the stage, Pacey scanned the crowd for her face.
An elderly couple, somebody's grandparents, had taken two of the seats when Jen and Joey returned, having run into Galeand Lily on their way back. Joey paused, her eyes running over the faces to be sure they had the right row, and frowned when they looked familiar but that the two supposed to be there had disappeared in her absence.
She turned to Jen who shrugged, rolling her eyes at the echo of Jack's threats she could still hear, and slid past her, muttering apologies as she stepped on toes that edged the path to the two remaining vacancies. Joey gave one last glance around, then followed, stepping on the same feet, and gave a tight smile to the old woman on her right as she sat.
She hadn't given Dawson an answer yet. He had asked her again when she had flicked at the blue tassle on his mortarboard, teasing him about the outfit she had worn only a week before, and she had realized that after four years of educating her mind, her heart still wanted to rule her head. It had been logic that had told Dawson two days ago that she would think about it, that had cautioned her that they had tentatively addressed their relationship only three months ago, almost no time at all, and it had been her head that had rationalized her feelings back there in the parking lot. But it was her heart that, without permission, had given the decision to Pacey, and as she looked over the bobbing blue caps, up to the enormous "Class of 2005" that rose from the stage, she knew she had to reclaim it. After four years, she had to follow her head, she had to let go.
Jen looked over, catching the troubled look in her eyes as they heard the dean step up to the microphone and welcome everyone. "Do you think they made a run for it?"
Joey held up the keys she had found on her seat. "They won't make it very far without these," and Jen grinned.
"Must be a food table up back, then."
Joey returned the smile wryly and tried to shake the thought of another day, another graduation he had left without a goodbye, wondering why the dull ache she was feeling in her stomach didn't seem like just a memory. Then as the dean turned the podium over the first speaker, she felt Jen's grip tighten and heard her mutter in amused astonishment.
"Oh dear God, would you look at that"
Joey followed Jen's gaze to the group of dignitaries seated onstage and found herself staring at a familiar cocky smirk and eyes that seemed to be staring back at her, eyes that although she couldn't tell from this distance, she knew were blue. As her mouth fell open in surprise, she watched him, his legs stretched out casually, leaning back in the chair, turning to say something to Jack who was sitting poker-straight beside him, and she remembered a time when three months had seemed like forever and never enough.
Pacey nodded to Ludkin as the professor excused himself, rising from his seat to approach the podium, his hand digging into the left pocket of his jacket for the speech he had prepared. A hint of a smile quirked at his lips as he watched the man come up empty, reaching into the right, then his trouser pockets but finding nothing. Finally, the bearded gentleman gave up, coughing nervously before launching hesitantly into an improvised version fractured by much clearing of the throat and "uhhhhh"s and Pacey tilted his head in to whisper to Jack.
"Do you think he needed this?"
Jack's eyes darted to the plastic card covered with typed notes his friend held and closed his eyes briefly. "Where did you get that?" he asked in a whispered groan.
"Palmed it from his jacket," Pacey murmured and waved the slip teasingly in front of Jack. "He laminated it!"
"Hide it," Jack hissed and smacked Pacey's hand away and the jolt sent the card flying out of Pacey's loose grip, skidding over the surface of the stage to come to a rest a few feet from Mr Ludkin. Pacey tensed and Jack cut his eyes frantically to the others seated onstage, but they hadn't seemed to notice, their attention focused on the man who continued to stumble through his speech, unaware that his precious notes were lying so close.
"That's not exactly what I had in mind," Jack muttered in an exhale and Pacey bit back a grin.
He caught Dawson's eye in the third row, the raise of the eyebrow, the small smile that he supposed were meant to convey amusement at his friends' antics but came across as patronizing. He looked away. After four years, after making a career, something of a home in the apartment he had been renting since their second year in Boston, and a life he was proud of, there was still a side of Dawson that saw him as the guy who hadn't gone to college, who left dishes in the sink and socks in the hall, who was good for a laugh, who was in it for sex, not love. Pacey glanced back to the blond and smirked, wiggling his fingers in a small wave. He wasn't the one looking like a right idiot wearing a crooked blue mortarboard.
Brushing his gaze over the other students, Pacey thought of how, if Mr Ludkin ever finished rambling, they would be coming up onstage soon. He imagined that as they crossed the stage to receive their diplomas, they would look out and they would be seeing their future out there somewhere, over the faces of the crowd, past the parking lot, buried in all the cliches that riddled the professor's speech.
They were the future of this country, this day wasn't an ending, rather a beginning, they had to hold onto their dreams, they had been waiting for this day for four years and, uhhhhh, good things come to those who, uhh, wait.
Pacey's gaze settled on Joey again and he silently laughed at the professor's last line. He hadn't known he was waiting and now that he had realized, it was too late. The good thing was going to California. Looking at her in the crowd, all Pacey could feel was an awful hollowness, that it wasn't his future out there in the eighteenth row, fourth seat on the left. It was his past.
As the student Mr Ludkin had announced as the recipient of this class's award of distinction moved around to the steps at the side of the stage, Jack leaned in toward Pacey.
"You know, she hasn't said yes yet."
Pacey's hands stopped mid-clap and after an uncertain pause, he turned sharply toward his friend. "What?"
But before Jack could verify his statement, their attention was distracted by the student who was now walking to the podium to much applause. His movements seemed almost in slow-motion as Pacey watched the young man's step land on Ludkin's plastic notecard and his expression turn aghast as his footing suddenly disappeared from beneath him, the notes sliding over the smooth surface of the stage. Pacey's smile that had begun to form with the implication of Jack's words grew into a grin as the pompous student fell forward, clutching at the podium desperately, and beside him, Jack froze.
"What do we do?" he asked Pacey through clenched teeth, the dangerous lurch of the wooden dais under the student's weight eliciting a screech from the microphone and a cringe from the crowd who continued to applaud.
"Just smile and keep clapping," Pacey told him out of the corner of his smile and Jack forced a stiff smile and silently cursed in time with his steady claps.
"You're going straight to hell," Jack muttered through his smile as the applause eased.
Pacey figured it was probably somewhere in California.
"So are you."
Jack shook his head slightly, still smiling stiffly. "No, I'm already there."
The old woman shot Joey a reproachful glare when a chuckle escaped her at the scene that had unfolded onstage. Raising a hand to her mouth, Joey tried to wipe the offending smile from her lips, but a trace remained, deepening as Jen snickered beside her. They tried to regain their composure out of respect for the student, who, judging by the brevity and lack of coherence of his acceptance speech, had not been able to do the same with his own. And they had managed to do a pretty decent job of it until the dean took the microphone again and introduced the next speaker as a guest they were honored could attend today, a fine filmmaker by the name of- here he paused for prompting from Mr Ludkin- by the name of Mr Haywood Jablomey.
Then the dean stepped aside, seeming oblivious to the incongruity of the name that drew scattered laughter from the crowd and Joey sat back in her seat with a shocked chuckle as Pacey stepped in to take his place.
"So, films huh?" Pacey directed into the microphone. He scratched at his head, his grin lingering at having gotten so far as to be giving a speech, yet knowing his ruse couldn't go undetected for much longer. Especially as he had no idea what to say.
"Well, I've been subjected to a fair amount of the visual arts in my time, what with Nickelodeon and uh, being a famous documentarian and all." He could almost feel Jack's eyes, wide with disbelief, boring into the back of his head at the last pronouncement, and he groped blindly for something to add.
"Uh, I was also forced into a detailed knowledge of all things Spielberg at an early age which may explain the rapid deterioration my mental health has obviously undergone." Pacey flashed a cheeky grin at the laughter his self-deprecation had earned, ignoring the echo of the smug smile on Dawson's face as his eyes brushed over him in the crowd. He had never been that person Dawson still thought of him as.
"But now that you're all graduating here today, you've probably learnt much more than I know about film, or music, and with those co-ed dorms I'd say you would've learnt a lot about sex too-" He gave another charming grin, noting the security guard who was sidling up the steps on the right of the stage, and continued, his thoughts gaining monumentum, meaning.
"-It's all about sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, right?" A few loud cheers rose up from the audience and Pacey chuckled. He saw the guard step onto the stage, looking questioningly toward the dean, and he took a breath, turning back to the microphone. She hadn't said yes yet.
Time to rock the casba.
"So my name is Pacey Witter," he told the crowd, "And I am an addict. I know about sex, and I know about rock'n'roll, but I'm still learning about the drug that creates the most amazing highs and the worst lows." He glanced over at Jack who was eying the security guard with dread then turned back to the crowd. "And someone asked me earlier today why I keep coming back for more and all I can say is that I've spent the last four years trying to break the habit." He shrugged, giving a disarming smile. "But I just can't do it."
"So remember kids," he saw the guard was approaching now, but he fixed his gaze on Joey, his words only for her.
"Just say no."
And for an instant, the world stood still, caught on his breath, on her eyes.
Then he broke away from the podium as the guard reached to grab him by the arm, and Jack leapt from his chair to follow his run to the side of the stage, taking the steps down to the lawn three at a time. They rounded the back of the stage to find another security guard lumbering toward them from the opposite direction and when Pacey glanced over his shoulder he saw the first one launching off the stage in pursuit.
"Climb," he urged Jack shortly to follow him as he grabbed at the bars of the scaffolding holding up the enormous curtain backdrop, and Jack didn't need any more direction, scrambling up the frame after him, cursing the whole way. When he reached the top, Pacey edged along the plank of wood the main curtain hung from, the two-foot fringe of the same thick material hoisted above it hiding their crawl from the crowd below. He was beginning to have an inkling of where Jack's misgivings about the whole plan had come from- mostly in the fact that there had been none.
Nearing what he figured had to be about the middle of the stage, he paused, bending his head even closer to the flimsy ledge as he lifted the edge of the fringe, sneaking a look down to the sea of faces that had returned their attention to the dean on the stage.
"Why have you stopped?" Jack asked in a fierce whisper behind him, "Keep going, they're going to come up after us, c'mon move"
"They're not going to climb up here- they're not that stupid," Pacey reassured, his eyes searching for Joey's dark hair.
"No, that's just us."
"They'll wait for us to climb down or fall down." Pacey couldn't see her.
Jack grumbled sarcastically, "Why don't I find that comforting?" then was met with one of Pacey's sneakers almost in his face as his friend inched backward. "What are you doing?"
"Enjoy the view McPhee," Pacey joked, the sinking feeling in his stomach coloring his humor. She had left.
Jack peered out under the fringe and felt his own stomach flip at the height. He let the material fall back down. "I mean, why are you going backwards?"
"There was a bar in the way." It looked like they were beginning to hand out the diplomas, blue gowns were floating up to the stage.
"You might want to get used to that view," Jack muttered darkly.
Then he was startled by the sound of the security guard shuffling along the board behind and as he tried to turn suddenly in the small space, he lost his balance and fell. Pacey tightened his grip on the heavy fringing as Jack's desperate fingers caught a hold of Pacey's leg and they both tumbled over the side of the ledge, dangling only by the material to which Pacey was clinging.
In an irrationally calm moment as they hung there in front of the crowd, suspended twenty feet in the air, Jack clutching at his leg, Pacey couldn't help but laugh. The muscles in his arms were straining with the weight of both of them and he sucked in a breath of the velvet "Class of 2005" curtain he was facing, his back to the audience who seemed to be enjoying their predicament. No doubt it was more entertaining than the speeches.
He heard a tearing sound and lifted his head to see the fringing pulling loose from where it was anchored. Apparently it wasn't made to hold two men with bungee-jumping inclinations.
"Oh, shit," Pacey muttered in a resigned tone as ten feet of their lifeline tore free and he held tighter as they dropped closer to the stage, Jack slipping down to grab at the ankle of his dark blue pants.
"They'll just wait for us to climb down, huh?!" Jack yelled up from his precarious position.
Pacey grunted, struggling to keep his grip on the fringe as more came away. "Or fall down," he agreed.
With one hand, Jack reached up to get a better hold on Pacey's trousers and as he caught on, the fringing that was holding them both ripped further and as a snap of a button sounded, this time it wasn't just them who were jerked downward. Jack felt his grip falter as Pacey's pants tugged down, taking his boxers shorts with them, and he relinquished his hold. He dropped the remaining few feet to the stage, leaving Pacey still hanging by the fringing, ass to the wind. And the crowd.
In her seat, beside Joey's vacant chair, Jen muttered to herself again. "Oh dear God, would you look at that?!" and the old woman nearby covered her eyes.
After the split second of shock vanished, leaving him with the breezy certainty that his pants were indeed flying at half mast and that he was, in fact, shining high on an audience of a few hundred, Pacey followed Jack's lead and let himself fall the rest of the way. Landing heavily on his feet, he tugged his pants back up, holding them in place with a hand and turned to face the stunned crowd. Jack grabbed at him, urging him forward and Pacey passed the gaping dean with a wink, hesitating at the front of the stage only to give a bow to the smatterings of laughing applause before jumping down.
Together, they ran down the aisle toward the parking lot, mindful of the security guards who were surveying the damage, the drunken list of the backdrop and the torn fringe dangling forlornly. As Pacey drew ahead, one hand still holding his pants up, his blue jacket flapping out behind him, Jack first cursed his decision to wear uncomfortable black shoes, then the fact that Pacey was wearing sneakers, then just Pacey himself. He was almost out of curses, not to mention breath when they reached the parking lot and Pacey halted abruptly, his hand patting his pocket.
"They're not there."
Jack frowned, catching his breath. "What's not there?"
"The keys." Pacey felt in his other pocket, then his jacket to no avail. "I don't have the keys."
Jack rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling that Pacey's karma had come back to bite them both in the ass. "Well, where did you park- maybe you left them in the car." He silently prayed it wasn't the case, although it wouldn't be any worse than the alternatives.
His t-shirt stretching taut over his chest as he took a deep breath, Pacey glanced over the lot and swore as he released the breath, almost wanting to laugh. "Uh, that's not there either."
"What??" Jack followed his gaze, searching for the familiar red Mustang. "Are you sure that's where you left it?"
Pacey chuckled ruefully, rubbing his brow at the hopelessness of it all. "Yeah." He had just made a ridiculous speech, bared his backside to the world, been chased by security and lost his keys, his car and the love of his life.
Jack sighed incredulously. "Shit."
"Yeah."
They stood there for a moment in companiable silence, Jack running a hand through his hair, Pacey tugging up his pants again at the waistband, neither having the faintest idea what to do now. Then their reverie was shattered by the sound of a horn and Pacey turned to see his Mustang approaching from the right, the driver's side window rolling down as it pulled up alongside them.
"Going someplace?" Joey leaned out the window, shifting into neutral and gave a lopsided smile at their suprised expressions. Her head may have been confused, but her heart was always right.
Jack hesitated only a second before sliding over the hood of the car and jumping into the passenger seat, but Pacey stared at her for a moment longer, sitting there behind the wheel of his car. As a smile of his own spilled over his face, he crossed around to the other side, pushing Jack's seat forward as he climbed into the back.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, a trace of wonder in his voice, "You're missing Dawson's big moment."
Joey turned in her seat to face him with a smirk. "Nah, I already saw the big moment."
Pacey caught her tone and leaned back against the seat, his chest tightened with hope. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. You and your butt hanging from a curtain," she chuckled, "What was that about?"
Jack held up a hand. "Just so you know, that wasn't supposed to happen."
But Pacey didn't hear the disclaimer, didn't see anything but her dark eyes locked on his.
"That was me swooping."
Suddenly, Joey could feel her heart pounding against her chest and it was a few seconds before she found her breath again.
"You want a fix?"
Pacey grinned. "Yes ma'am."
Then he laughed as she climbed awkwardly over into the backseat with him, kicking Jack in the process, but before she could apologize, Pacey crushed his lips against hers, kissing her with a passion that made her gasp, and Joey sank into his arms, matching his hunger with her own. Moaning softly into her mouth as her tongue ran over his, Pacey buried his hands in her hair, revelling in the feel of her after so long and Joey pulled him down with her to the seat.
"Uh, so you guys want me to drive?" Jack asked from the front. He paused, then nodded. "Yeah, okay I'll drive."
Shifting over to the seat behind the wheel, he turned the key in the ignition and glanced at the rearview mirror. He shook his head.
"I'm going to make all my money defending you two against charges of public indecency."
The fervour of greedy kisses continued unabated by his words and Jack checked out the scene in the mirror again.
"Hey, this ain't no casba, you know."
Joey laughed then and Pacey looked up, a happy grin lighting his face.
"Nah, McPhee," he agreed, "This is love."
But this story was for another of the monthly challenges, and the guidelines specified that the setting was graduation, the phrase "rock the casba" must be used, someone must trip while receiving their diploma, Pacey must bare his butt...and that if I wrote a fic, it had to have a happy ending.
So this was my apology for all the mope that had come before, and all that I knew would probably come after. Because, ya know, habits have this annoying habit of returning, lol.
There are days when the smell of summer hangs in the air; the sky is so blue it seems like the whole world is an underwater city and strangers could be friends. There are hours that seem to slip through the cracks between your fingers on the remote control as you sit watching TV with glazed eyes, and there are minutes where the universe smiles upon you, allowing you to reach the McDonald's counter at 10.29, just before the narrow window of hangover breakfast opportunity slams closed for another day.
And then there are those moments when Jack wished he had never heard of a guy named Pacey J. Witter.
Wiping a hand over his sweaty brow, Jack shifted and the movement disrupted his precarious perch on the narrow ledge. He swore softly under his breath as he steadied himself and glanced at the brown-haired man crouched in similar discomfort, before peering back down to the crowd seated twenty feet below.
This was definitely one of those moments.
****
"Are you ready to go?"
Joey checked her watch and looked back up the stairs, impatience flickering across her face like a lightning storm. A muffled affirmation floated down to meet her where she was standing in the foyer of the house and she rolled her eyes, wondering if that were true, why the hell weren't they down there now.
She cast her gaze over the familiar surroundings; in the four years they had all been in Boston, she had come to love Grams' house like a second home, and with everyone leaving, heading to far-flung places, even if it was just an apartment the next street over like in Jack's case, she knew she would miss it dearly. But right now, having spent the last half hour staring at the slightly drooping flowers on the sideboard as she waited for the two upstairs to get their act together and for Pacey to arrive with the car, she could honestly say she didn't want to be there for another minute.
"We're going to be late!" she yelled up again, then heard the door open behind her and stumbled forward a little as it bumped her in its course.
" You're late."
Pacey merely shrugged at her reproach, taking in the otherwise empty surrounds. "So where are the others?"
Joey sighed and tipped her head towards the stairs leading up to the second floor and Pacey followed her nod with a smile tracing a faint path over his lips. He returned his gaze to her, taking in the dark tendrils that had escaped the pins of her upswept hair, the thin silk of her blue shirt cascading over the swell of her breasts like a ribbon of sky, the delicate smudge of color she was working on erasing as she bit anxiously on her lower lip. Before he could think about it, Pacey reached out and smoothed the crease in her brow with the gentle pad of his thumb and her eyes, dark pools with hidden undertow, jerked up to meet his. He drank in the brief contact like a man with rum desperate to forget, and the emotion in their depths was laced with the same dark bittersweet, heavy with the pungent sense of what he already knew.
"You said yes, didn't you?"
The loud scuffle of feet on the stairs crashed through the moment and Pacey dropped his hand back to his side as Joey turned to shoot a glare at Jen and Jack for their tardiness. Jen blew a kiss and skirted around her, pulling Jack in tow out the front door and Joey turned back to Pacey, her crooked smile not managing to erase the disquiet his question had surfaced. But she simply asked "Are you ready to go?" and he tugged the keys from his pocket and nodded.
~ ~
"So did anyone bring the crack?"
"Is the jaded, graduated-last-week girl planning on buzzing through the entire ceremony?"
"I just thought it might help combat the soporific effects of long-winded speeches that tend to prosper at these things."
"Ah, cocaine, our last line of defence"
Pacey glanced up to the rearview mirror to see Jack nodding sagely at Jen in the backseat, and fingers of a smile worked at the knot that had tied around his heart. Turning his attention back to the road, easing to a stop at a red light, he felt Joey shift in the seat beside him.
"It's a visual arts school," she shrugged at them in the backseat, "Maybe they'll skip the addresses and just go for a film or picture that, you know, encapsulates the sentiment."
Jen gave her a dubious look, leaning hard into Jack as Pacey negotiated a sharp corner. "You really think Dawson would've lasted four years at a place where words and their overuse was not held in the highest esteem?"
Acquiescing with a wry smile, Joey faced the front again. "So there'll be speeches."
Pacey caught her in the corner of his eye, her smile fading on her lips, her gaze skimming over the traffic ahead. She seemed so far away, like he was driving a cab but instead of the backseat, it was her that was enclosed by a bulletproof partition, and he wished someone had thought to build one around his heart.
There had been speeches before- Audrey's sunny goodbye that was smudged with tears when she had returned to LA halfway through junior year to pursue an acting career; "If I wait till I graduate, I'll be playing Sarah Michelle Gellar's mother and besides, from what I hear, the restaurants there are in desperate need of wannabe actresses for waitstaff. So you see, it's all a matter of supply and demand, and there's enough crazy here."
Or Jen's drunken declaration of enlightenment after a break-up; "Five pairs. Five pairs. That's how many socks I have apparently sacrificed this month to the washing machine gods so they don't shrink my favorite sweater or something. Of course, I still have one of each pair, but that's like Coke without rum, or rum without a bottle, or me without Michael and with rum- big old mess. But it's all come real clear to me what is to be done, what purpose these widowed woolies are supposed to serve- Are ya ready for it?" She had lowered her voice. "Sock puppets."
And then there had been Jack's very much sober and slightly more succinct announcement at the beginning of sophomore year; "Hey guys, I've decided to do law." "Yeah?" "Yeah."
But none of them had torn through his chest, lead-tipped words he hadn't wanted to hear richoceting through an open door, as Dawson's announcement had two days ago. Like a clumsy bar brawl, he couldn't remember how it had started, had only a dim recollection of the feel of the punches, but the memory of how it had ended was still raw in his mind; "Come to California with me, Jo."
The parking lot was crowded, everyone else seeming to be cursed with a similar punctuality deficiency, and Pacey frowned slightly at the prospect of weaving through the chaos to find a space.
"Why don't you guys go grab us seats while I park?"
Seatbelts unsnapped eagerly in agreement and he braked as Jen and Jack pushed Joey's seat forward, climbing out with waves and "See ya over there!". The car shuddered as the door was slammed roughly shut and Pacey edged it forward with a glance over at Joey who had remained inside.
"Someone has to make sure you don't make a run for it and leave us stranded here," she answered his questioning look with a small smile.
Pacey gave a hint of a shrug and he manouevred the vehicle around a straggling group of parents and friends. "Gale's got a car."
Joey felt a sheen of tension form over her skin like sweat at his short reply and unconsciously raised a hand to her brow as if to wipe it away. Silence settled again as Pacey pulled into a space and when he shut off the engine, the click of his seatbelt seemed muffled in comparison to the noiseless din of emotions.
"You said yes, didn't you?"
There wasn't any question to his question this time, and Joey turned to him, her breath slipping out in a quiet exhale. She brushed over his expression, her gaze catching on the jagged edges of his acknowledgement.
"Don't look at me like that, Pacey." She avoided his eyes, their blue depths prone to making her seasick with indecision about things she had told herself were certainties for so long, and glanced out the windscreen. "Just because he didn't swoop in and steal my breath and make my heart bang against my chest, it doesn't mean I'm settling."
Like the hand he had reached out to smooth her frown with earlier, his words slipped out instinctively, silently begging her to take hold and not let go. "Doesn't exactly point to love either, Potter."
Joey turned her gaze back to him, a shade of skepticism drawn over the truth in her eyes. "And what would?"
His mind told him to retreat, not to throw himself into the fray again, and he stifled the other whispers with a glimmer of an offhand smile. "Sweaty palms, for a start," he suggested.
"And breathlessness and a pounding heart?" Joey returned dryly, her own smile lighting her dark eyes. "Sounds like symptons Jen would be experiencing if she had that crack she was asking about."
Pacey flashed a grin in concurrence, slipping out of his seatbelt. "It is a drug."
"What, cocaine?"
"Love," he corrected simply and Joey's mocking demeanor faltered at the word formed on his husky tongue.
She scrunched her nose a little to cover for it and eyed him with curiosity guarded by an apprehension she was not willing to name. "Why are you still so concerned with my life?"
But he didn't answer, pushing open the car door and stepping out instead, and Joey was suprised to find her hand on the latch was trembling, ever so slightly.
~ ~
They found Jen and Jack sprawled across four seats, a dozen rows back from where the bank of graduates were seated at the front. When Pacey eased in past the knees of the others filling the row, Jen stood, asking if he would mind their spaces while she went to say hi to Dawson. Pacey nodded and as Jen wriggled around him to join Joey who was waiting in the aisle, the heels on her shoes digging into the soft grass of the lawn, he slid into one of the vacant folding chairs. Jack waved to them, promising to inflict bodily harm on anyone who attempted to steal their place, then scooted over into the seat next to Pacey.
"You find a park?"
Pacey chuckled blackly. "Nah, I just left it running out there in the lot with the keys in the ignition- they have valet at these things right?" His foot tapped against the leg of the chair in front of him and although he had just sat down, he fought an overwhelming surge of restlessness.
Jack ran a hand through his hair and raised an eyebrow at his friend's wisecrack. "The talk went well, huh?" He smirked as he suddenly had Pacey's full attention, blue eyes narrowed in denial, chuckle dissolving on his tongue and foot stilling.
"What talk?"
"You know," he elaborated casually, "The one where you tell her that you never stopped loving her and that if she goes to live with Dawson in California she'll be ruining your life too, not just her own."
Pacey opened his mouth to refute Jack's claim, but caught himself for a moment. "You don't think she should go with him either?" he asked sharply.
Jack's mouth twisted up at one corner wryly. "It's not my opinion that matters."
Holding his gaze for a beat, Pacey then glanced away, dismissing any implication with an impatient exhale. He scanned the crowd seated before them, the sea of blue caps up front curbed by the stage, the glimpses of scaffolding behind the huge velvet "Congratulations Class of 2005" backdrop that towered above it, and turned back to face Jack.
"You ever get the sense of deja vu?"
Jack chuckled, his eyes rolling with sarcasm. "With you guys as friends? Never."
A lazy grin began to inch over Pacey's lips as he gestured to the scene that lay before them. "We had this view last week at Joey's graduation, right down to it being partially obscured by a woman with a ridiculous hat three rows in front."
He had kissed her cheek that day, Joey, not the ridiculous hat woman, crushing her in a hug as she laughed. Her tears had spilled onto his shoulder and he had known then that he would never be able to explain why she had his tears on hers.
"So I think we need a change."
He straightened in the seat, the quiet agitation having reached his hands now, and his thumb tapped against the dark blue material of his pants. It seemed to be marking the passing seconds and for each one that fell to his lap, the moment that she would be leaving crept closer, like a shadow across his heart and it was a thought he tried to dislodge with a rush of recklessness.
Jack peered over the people's heads. "What, you wanna sit on the other side of the aisle, or further back?"
Drawing his gaze away from the faculty members milling around the side of the stage, Pacey shifted his eyes to meet Jack's, glinting with a dangerous mix of mischief and disquiet.
"I had somewhere else in mind."
~ ~
Trying to ignore the trepidation in his steps, Jack trailed Pacey into the aisle.
"Do I get to know what we're doing?"
Pacey pulled on the lapels of his dark blue jacket, straightening it over his untucked white v-neck t-shirt. "Sometimes, Jack, you just gotta rock the casba."
He grinned impishly and nodded toward the stage. Jack narrowed his eyes, still having no idea what Pacey was proposing they do. "I'm pretty sure that line was 'sometimes you just gotta say what the fuck'" he muttered. He was also fairly certain he didn't want to know what Pacey was proposing they do, but for lack of any excuse aside from a nagging fear of imprisonment, he followed his friend down the grassy aisle.
"How are you going to talk about your misspent youth when you have no stories to tell, McPhee?" Pacey responded to his grumbles as they made their way up to the front of the stage.
"My check bounced," Jack replied, "I've got no more youth to spend, wisely or unwisely."
Pacey chuckled. "Oh, Old Man River, cry me one- you're going to be making money hand over fist in a few years." They moved around the edge of the stage, crossing in front of the pending graduates in their blue gowns and Pacey could almost feel Dawson's questioning gaze on him.
"I didn't realize that lawyers were part of the sex industry"
"Jack, what you don't know about the law could fill the Grand Canyon, hence no graduation for you today."
Rounding the side of the stage, Jack felt his stomach shrivel slightly as he took in the huddle they were approaching. "I do know that we're too old to be charged as minors," he muttered warily, "Don't make me intimately familiar with the state prison system as well."
Before Jack could give in to his growing inclination to run, Pacey announced their presence to the small group of faculty members and guests of honor waiting to be ushered onstage.
"So nice to meet you, Mr, uh, Ludkin," Pacey heard the man's name as another guest introduced himself. "I appreciate being asked to attend today."
Jack clung to the faint hope that the ground might swallow him whole as the bearded professor eyed Pacey with confusion.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?" he apologized, thrown for a moment by the sudden declaration.
Pacey on the other hand, appeared completely unfazed, flashing a winning smile as he held out his hand. "Jablomey, sir. It was a last minute arrangement, I didn't know if I would be able to make it back to this coast, you know, filming schedules and all." He shook the professor's hand enthusiastically and the man nodded, not wanting to seem ignorant of something he was obviously supposed to be aware of.
"Well, Mr Jablomey," Ludkin regained his composure, "We're very glad you could make it." He turned to Jack and offered his hand. "And you are?"
"Jack McPhee," he blurted without thinking and shook the man's hand limply, cursing his lack of glibness.
"Very smooth, 007," Pacey chuckled under his breath as Ludkin moved away and Jack scowled at him before a guest came up to them. Pacey had been betting on people's instinctive need to not seem ignorant, and judging by the others' polite nods and smiles as they were introduced, it was working. He smiled as another of the guests approached.
"Well hello, Mr Jablomey, is it?"
She was a woman in her late forties, probably a member of the board and Pacey kicked his smile up a notch, not entirely sure where he was going with this ruse. "Call me Haywood, ma'am," he shook her hand and introduced Jack as his business partner. "We make documentaries, back on the west coast," he invented, "We're actually taking time off from one we're working on now."
The woman frowned slightly in recognition. "Oh, I think I've heard of your work." Jack smothered a snicker and Pacey coughed slightly as she raised her painted eyebrows in interest. "What is the subject of your current piece?"
Pacey glanced over at Jack who shot him a fierce look, silently urging him to say anything and Pacey turned back to the woman, his expression blank.
"Uh, well," he took a breath, stalling for a second, then, "It's about the art of vivisection in the twenty-first century- we're presenting an in-depth look at the limitations placed on the craft both publically and personally."
The fantastically bad lie slipped off his tongue seamlessly and he coated it with a charming smile that the woman, although clearly taken aback, could not refuse.
"Is there much call for that sort of thing these days?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to appear rude and Jack died another death, trying to hold in his guffaws.
"Oh sure, ma'am," Pacey managed to keep his voice silky smooth with sincerity, "It's a genuine creative outlet for those with uncontrollable impulses of the..." Pacey was grateful for the interruption of a professor asking if they would take their seats onstage now; he didn't think his smile alone would buy the woman's belief if he had continued in that vein of rambling.
As they climbed the steps up to the stage, Jack hissed in Pacey's ear incredulously, "Vivisection??" and Pacey shrugged, offering his hands. "What was I supposed to say?" Jack stopped behind him. "How about anything but that?"
They smiled and nodded to Mr Ludkin as they sat in the neighboring chairs and Jack threw an apprehensive eye over the few remaining seats. When somebody figured out they were two chairs short, the game would be up, and, he thought with a despondant glance out at the crowd, their lives would be over.
But the dean who had emerged from the other side of the stage just sent an assistant to bring extras and when Pacey jokingly offered to let one of the stranded sit on his lap (Jack muttering Sweet Jesus, shut up), the others assembled had laughed and politely declined. So they stayed put, and from his seat on the stage, Pacey scanned the crowd for her face.
~ ~
An elderly couple, somebody's grandparents, had taken two of the seats when Jen and Joey returned, having run into Galeand Lily on their way back. Joey paused, her eyes running over the faces to be sure they had the right row, and frowned when they looked familiar but that the two supposed to be there had disappeared in her absence.
She turned to Jen who shrugged, rolling her eyes at the echo of Jack's threats she could still hear, and slid past her, muttering apologies as she stepped on toes that edged the path to the two remaining vacancies. Joey gave one last glance around, then followed, stepping on the same feet, and gave a tight smile to the old woman on her right as she sat.
She hadn't given Dawson an answer yet. He had asked her again when she had flicked at the blue tassle on his mortarboard, teasing him about the outfit she had worn only a week before, and she had realized that after four years of educating her mind, her heart still wanted to rule her head. It had been logic that had told Dawson two days ago that she would think about it, that had cautioned her that they had tentatively addressed their relationship only three months ago, almost no time at all, and it had been her head that had rationalized her feelings back there in the parking lot. But it was her heart that, without permission, had given the decision to Pacey, and as she looked over the bobbing blue caps, up to the enormous "Class of 2005" that rose from the stage, she knew she had to reclaim it. After four years, she had to follow her head, she had to let go.
Jen looked over, catching the troubled look in her eyes as they heard the dean step up to the microphone and welcome everyone. "Do you think they made a run for it?"
Joey held up the keys she had found on her seat. "They won't make it very far without these," and Jen grinned.
"Must be a food table up back, then."
Joey returned the smile wryly and tried to shake the thought of another day, another graduation he had left without a goodbye, wondering why the dull ache she was feeling in her stomach didn't seem like just a memory. Then as the dean turned the podium over the first speaker, she felt Jen's grip tighten and heard her mutter in amused astonishment.
"Oh dear God, would you look at that"
Joey followed Jen's gaze to the group of dignitaries seated onstage and found herself staring at a familiar cocky smirk and eyes that seemed to be staring back at her, eyes that although she couldn't tell from this distance, she knew were blue. As her mouth fell open in surprise, she watched him, his legs stretched out casually, leaning back in the chair, turning to say something to Jack who was sitting poker-straight beside him, and she remembered a time when three months had seemed like forever and never enough.
~ ~
Pacey nodded to Ludkin as the professor excused himself, rising from his seat to approach the podium, his hand digging into the left pocket of his jacket for the speech he had prepared. A hint of a smile quirked at his lips as he watched the man come up empty, reaching into the right, then his trouser pockets but finding nothing. Finally, the bearded gentleman gave up, coughing nervously before launching hesitantly into an improvised version fractured by much clearing of the throat and "uhhhhh"s and Pacey tilted his head in to whisper to Jack.
"Do you think he needed this?"
Jack's eyes darted to the plastic card covered with typed notes his friend held and closed his eyes briefly. "Where did you get that?" he asked in a whispered groan.
"Palmed it from his jacket," Pacey murmured and waved the slip teasingly in front of Jack. "He laminated it!"
"Hide it," Jack hissed and smacked Pacey's hand away and the jolt sent the card flying out of Pacey's loose grip, skidding over the surface of the stage to come to a rest a few feet from Mr Ludkin. Pacey tensed and Jack cut his eyes frantically to the others seated onstage, but they hadn't seemed to notice, their attention focused on the man who continued to stumble through his speech, unaware that his precious notes were lying so close.
"That's not exactly what I had in mind," Jack muttered in an exhale and Pacey bit back a grin.
He caught Dawson's eye in the third row, the raise of the eyebrow, the small smile that he supposed were meant to convey amusement at his friends' antics but came across as patronizing. He looked away. After four years, after making a career, something of a home in the apartment he had been renting since their second year in Boston, and a life he was proud of, there was still a side of Dawson that saw him as the guy who hadn't gone to college, who left dishes in the sink and socks in the hall, who was good for a laugh, who was in it for sex, not love. Pacey glanced back to the blond and smirked, wiggling his fingers in a small wave. He wasn't the one looking like a right idiot wearing a crooked blue mortarboard.
Brushing his gaze over the other students, Pacey thought of how, if Mr Ludkin ever finished rambling, they would be coming up onstage soon. He imagined that as they crossed the stage to receive their diplomas, they would look out and they would be seeing their future out there somewhere, over the faces of the crowd, past the parking lot, buried in all the cliches that riddled the professor's speech.
They were the future of this country, this day wasn't an ending, rather a beginning, they had to hold onto their dreams, they had been waiting for this day for four years and, uhhhhh, good things come to those who, uhh, wait.
Pacey's gaze settled on Joey again and he silently laughed at the professor's last line. He hadn't known he was waiting and now that he had realized, it was too late. The good thing was going to California. Looking at her in the crowd, all Pacey could feel was an awful hollowness, that it wasn't his future out there in the eighteenth row, fourth seat on the left. It was his past.
As the student Mr Ludkin had announced as the recipient of this class's award of distinction moved around to the steps at the side of the stage, Jack leaned in toward Pacey.
"You know, she hasn't said yes yet."
Pacey's hands stopped mid-clap and after an uncertain pause, he turned sharply toward his friend. "What?"
But before Jack could verify his statement, their attention was distracted by the student who was now walking to the podium to much applause. His movements seemed almost in slow-motion as Pacey watched the young man's step land on Ludkin's plastic notecard and his expression turn aghast as his footing suddenly disappeared from beneath him, the notes sliding over the smooth surface of the stage. Pacey's smile that had begun to form with the implication of Jack's words grew into a grin as the pompous student fell forward, clutching at the podium desperately, and beside him, Jack froze.
"What do we do?" he asked Pacey through clenched teeth, the dangerous lurch of the wooden dais under the student's weight eliciting a screech from the microphone and a cringe from the crowd who continued to applaud.
"Just smile and keep clapping," Pacey told him out of the corner of his smile and Jack forced a stiff smile and silently cursed in time with his steady claps.
"You're going straight to hell," Jack muttered through his smile as the applause eased.
Pacey figured it was probably somewhere in California.
"So are you."
Jack shook his head slightly, still smiling stiffly. "No, I'm already there."
~ ~
The old woman shot Joey a reproachful glare when a chuckle escaped her at the scene that had unfolded onstage. Raising a hand to her mouth, Joey tried to wipe the offending smile from her lips, but a trace remained, deepening as Jen snickered beside her. They tried to regain their composure out of respect for the student, who, judging by the brevity and lack of coherence of his acceptance speech, had not been able to do the same with his own. And they had managed to do a pretty decent job of it until the dean took the microphone again and introduced the next speaker as a guest they were honored could attend today, a fine filmmaker by the name of- here he paused for prompting from Mr Ludkin- by the name of Mr Haywood Jablomey.
Then the dean stepped aside, seeming oblivious to the incongruity of the name that drew scattered laughter from the crowd and Joey sat back in her seat with a shocked chuckle as Pacey stepped in to take his place.
~ ~
"So, films huh?" Pacey directed into the microphone. He scratched at his head, his grin lingering at having gotten so far as to be giving a speech, yet knowing his ruse couldn't go undetected for much longer. Especially as he had no idea what to say.
"Well, I've been subjected to a fair amount of the visual arts in my time, what with Nickelodeon and uh, being a famous documentarian and all." He could almost feel Jack's eyes, wide with disbelief, boring into the back of his head at the last pronouncement, and he groped blindly for something to add.
"Uh, I was also forced into a detailed knowledge of all things Spielberg at an early age which may explain the rapid deterioration my mental health has obviously undergone." Pacey flashed a cheeky grin at the laughter his self-deprecation had earned, ignoring the echo of the smug smile on Dawson's face as his eyes brushed over him in the crowd. He had never been that person Dawson still thought of him as.
"But now that you're all graduating here today, you've probably learnt much more than I know about film, or music, and with those co-ed dorms I'd say you would've learnt a lot about sex too-" He gave another charming grin, noting the security guard who was sidling up the steps on the right of the stage, and continued, his thoughts gaining monumentum, meaning.
"-It's all about sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, right?" A few loud cheers rose up from the audience and Pacey chuckled. He saw the guard step onto the stage, looking questioningly toward the dean, and he took a breath, turning back to the microphone. She hadn't said yes yet.
Time to rock the casba.
"So my name is Pacey Witter," he told the crowd, "And I am an addict. I know about sex, and I know about rock'n'roll, but I'm still learning about the drug that creates the most amazing highs and the worst lows." He glanced over at Jack who was eying the security guard with dread then turned back to the crowd. "And someone asked me earlier today why I keep coming back for more and all I can say is that I've spent the last four years trying to break the habit." He shrugged, giving a disarming smile. "But I just can't do it."
"So remember kids," he saw the guard was approaching now, but he fixed his gaze on Joey, his words only for her.
"Just say no."
And for an instant, the world stood still, caught on his breath, on her eyes.
Then he broke away from the podium as the guard reached to grab him by the arm, and Jack leapt from his chair to follow his run to the side of the stage, taking the steps down to the lawn three at a time. They rounded the back of the stage to find another security guard lumbering toward them from the opposite direction and when Pacey glanced over his shoulder he saw the first one launching off the stage in pursuit.
"Climb," he urged Jack shortly to follow him as he grabbed at the bars of the scaffolding holding up the enormous curtain backdrop, and Jack didn't need any more direction, scrambling up the frame after him, cursing the whole way. When he reached the top, Pacey edged along the plank of wood the main curtain hung from, the two-foot fringe of the same thick material hoisted above it hiding their crawl from the crowd below. He was beginning to have an inkling of where Jack's misgivings about the whole plan had come from- mostly in the fact that there had been none.
Nearing what he figured had to be about the middle of the stage, he paused, bending his head even closer to the flimsy ledge as he lifted the edge of the fringe, sneaking a look down to the sea of faces that had returned their attention to the dean on the stage.
"Why have you stopped?" Jack asked in a fierce whisper behind him, "Keep going, they're going to come up after us, c'mon move"
"They're not going to climb up here- they're not that stupid," Pacey reassured, his eyes searching for Joey's dark hair.
"No, that's just us."
"They'll wait for us to climb down or fall down." Pacey couldn't see her.
Jack grumbled sarcastically, "Why don't I find that comforting?" then was met with one of Pacey's sneakers almost in his face as his friend inched backward. "What are you doing?"
"Enjoy the view McPhee," Pacey joked, the sinking feeling in his stomach coloring his humor. She had left.
Jack peered out under the fringe and felt his own stomach flip at the height. He let the material fall back down. "I mean, why are you going backwards?"
"There was a bar in the way." It looked like they were beginning to hand out the diplomas, blue gowns were floating up to the stage.
"You might want to get used to that view," Jack muttered darkly.
Then he was startled by the sound of the security guard shuffling along the board behind and as he tried to turn suddenly in the small space, he lost his balance and fell. Pacey tightened his grip on the heavy fringing as Jack's desperate fingers caught a hold of Pacey's leg and they both tumbled over the side of the ledge, dangling only by the material to which Pacey was clinging.
In an irrationally calm moment as they hung there in front of the crowd, suspended twenty feet in the air, Jack clutching at his leg, Pacey couldn't help but laugh. The muscles in his arms were straining with the weight of both of them and he sucked in a breath of the velvet "Class of 2005" curtain he was facing, his back to the audience who seemed to be enjoying their predicament. No doubt it was more entertaining than the speeches.
He heard a tearing sound and lifted his head to see the fringing pulling loose from where it was anchored. Apparently it wasn't made to hold two men with bungee-jumping inclinations.
"Oh, shit," Pacey muttered in a resigned tone as ten feet of their lifeline tore free and he held tighter as they dropped closer to the stage, Jack slipping down to grab at the ankle of his dark blue pants.
"They'll just wait for us to climb down, huh?!" Jack yelled up from his precarious position.
Pacey grunted, struggling to keep his grip on the fringe as more came away. "Or fall down," he agreed.
With one hand, Jack reached up to get a better hold on Pacey's trousers and as he caught on, the fringing that was holding them both ripped further and as a snap of a button sounded, this time it wasn't just them who were jerked downward. Jack felt his grip falter as Pacey's pants tugged down, taking his boxers shorts with them, and he relinquished his hold. He dropped the remaining few feet to the stage, leaving Pacey still hanging by the fringing, ass to the wind. And the crowd.
In her seat, beside Joey's vacant chair, Jen muttered to herself again. "Oh dear God, would you look at that?!" and the old woman nearby covered her eyes.
After the split second of shock vanished, leaving him with the breezy certainty that his pants were indeed flying at half mast and that he was, in fact, shining high on an audience of a few hundred, Pacey followed Jack's lead and let himself fall the rest of the way. Landing heavily on his feet, he tugged his pants back up, holding them in place with a hand and turned to face the stunned crowd. Jack grabbed at him, urging him forward and Pacey passed the gaping dean with a wink, hesitating at the front of the stage only to give a bow to the smatterings of laughing applause before jumping down.
Together, they ran down the aisle toward the parking lot, mindful of the security guards who were surveying the damage, the drunken list of the backdrop and the torn fringe dangling forlornly. As Pacey drew ahead, one hand still holding his pants up, his blue jacket flapping out behind him, Jack first cursed his decision to wear uncomfortable black shoes, then the fact that Pacey was wearing sneakers, then just Pacey himself. He was almost out of curses, not to mention breath when they reached the parking lot and Pacey halted abruptly, his hand patting his pocket.
"They're not there."
Jack frowned, catching his breath. "What's not there?"
"The keys." Pacey felt in his other pocket, then his jacket to no avail. "I don't have the keys."
Jack rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling that Pacey's karma had come back to bite them both in the ass. "Well, where did you park- maybe you left them in the car." He silently prayed it wasn't the case, although it wouldn't be any worse than the alternatives.
His t-shirt stretching taut over his chest as he took a deep breath, Pacey glanced over the lot and swore as he released the breath, almost wanting to laugh. "Uh, that's not there either."
"What??" Jack followed his gaze, searching for the familiar red Mustang. "Are you sure that's where you left it?"
Pacey chuckled ruefully, rubbing his brow at the hopelessness of it all. "Yeah." He had just made a ridiculous speech, bared his backside to the world, been chased by security and lost his keys, his car and the love of his life.
Jack sighed incredulously. "Shit."
"Yeah."
They stood there for a moment in companiable silence, Jack running a hand through his hair, Pacey tugging up his pants again at the waistband, neither having the faintest idea what to do now. Then their reverie was shattered by the sound of a horn and Pacey turned to see his Mustang approaching from the right, the driver's side window rolling down as it pulled up alongside them.
"Going someplace?" Joey leaned out the window, shifting into neutral and gave a lopsided smile at their suprised expressions. Her head may have been confused, but her heart was always right.
Jack hesitated only a second before sliding over the hood of the car and jumping into the passenger seat, but Pacey stared at her for a moment longer, sitting there behind the wheel of his car. As a smile of his own spilled over his face, he crossed around to the other side, pushing Jack's seat forward as he climbed into the back.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, a trace of wonder in his voice, "You're missing Dawson's big moment."
Joey turned in her seat to face him with a smirk. "Nah, I already saw the big moment."
Pacey caught her tone and leaned back against the seat, his chest tightened with hope. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. You and your butt hanging from a curtain," she chuckled, "What was that about?"
Jack held up a hand. "Just so you know, that wasn't supposed to happen."
But Pacey didn't hear the disclaimer, didn't see anything but her dark eyes locked on his.
"That was me swooping."
Suddenly, Joey could feel her heart pounding against her chest and it was a few seconds before she found her breath again.
"You want a fix?"
Pacey grinned. "Yes ma'am."
Then he laughed as she climbed awkwardly over into the backseat with him, kicking Jack in the process, but before she could apologize, Pacey crushed his lips against hers, kissing her with a passion that made her gasp, and Joey sank into his arms, matching his hunger with her own. Moaning softly into her mouth as her tongue ran over his, Pacey buried his hands in her hair, revelling in the feel of her after so long and Joey pulled him down with her to the seat.
"Uh, so you guys want me to drive?" Jack asked from the front. He paused, then nodded. "Yeah, okay I'll drive."
Shifting over to the seat behind the wheel, he turned the key in the ignition and glanced at the rearview mirror. He shook his head.
"I'm going to make all my money defending you two against charges of public indecency."
The fervour of greedy kisses continued unabated by his words and Jack checked out the scene in the mirror again.
"Hey, this ain't no casba, you know."
Joey laughed then and Pacey looked up, a happy grin lighting his face.
"Nah, McPhee," he agreed, "This is love."
