Snapshots of Summer - Pacey/Joey
Title: Snapshots of Summer; First Night on the Boat, Let's Talk About Sex, The Young Girl and the Sea, Wine and Waves
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Pacey/Joey
Rating: T, overall
Word Count: 4,485
Beta: thinkpink20 - who deserves some sort of large award; thank you, lovely!
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them. The final lines of 'The Young Girl and the Sea' belong entirely to Ernest Hemingway, are taken from his brilliant short story 'The Old Man and the Sea' and have nothing whatsoever to do with me.
Summary: A series of four ficlets giving a little insight into what Pacey and Joey might have got up to over their summer sailing trip. The first one explores Joey's feelings after making her decision. The second imagines the conversation they might have had about sex. The third sees the start of that thing that they sometimes do. The fourth has Joey learning a lesson about wine.
A/N: 'Let's Talk About Sex' - So I know that Joey says Pacey "understood without a word" why she wasn't ready on the boat, but a) I wrote this before my series 4 rewatch, and b) I refuse to believe that these kids come to any decision without talking it out in really long words first.
'The Young Girl and the Sea' - Inspired by Joey's gift to Dawson in 4x01 and the "the thing that [Pacey and Joey] sometimes do."
'Wine and Waves' - Inspired by Pacey's line in series 4 about how Joey can't handle her alcohol. It made me wonder how he found that out.
First Night on the Boat
Joey sat at the bow of 'True Love' staring out at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the ocean, but she was oblivious to the beauty as she chewed her bottom lip and lost herself in thought. The initial adrenalin rush of a decision made and action taken had faded away and she was left with the actualities of reality.
Pacey stole quick and concerned glances at her as he crawled around the boat, getting her ready for nightfall. He didn't need to be able to read Joey's face like a book - although he could - to know something was up. He could also take a pretty good stab at what exactly it was.
He sat down gently beside her, but she didn't appear to notice. “Any pirates on the horizon?” He almost made her jump, but not quite.
“What?” She snapped out of her dream-like state almost as if she'd never been in it. “Oh,” she laughed and then shrugged. “Can't see any.” Her smile was sweet and went some way to removing the knot of nerves that had been bothering Pacey's stomach since they had left Capeside.
“Well that's your job, Potter; look out for pirates, and if you do happen to spot any, scare them off.” He looked at her with the serious face he acquired when a joke demanded it. She grinned back at him.
“What with, Pacey, my awful breath when I haven't brushed my teeth for a week?”
“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Exactly that.”
They both fell silent for a few moments as Joey resumed biting her lip, this time staring at the boat's deck.
“What's up, Jo?” Pacey eventually asked with resignation.
She looked up at him and answered too quickly, “Nothing. Nothing's up, Pace.”
“Yes, there is, Jo. C'mon, tell me,” he almost pleaded.
She sighed, rubbed her knees anxiously and knew he wouldn't give up. “Well,” she started, gesticulating angstily with her hands. “What am I doing here, huh?” She looked at him questioningly with wide brown eyes. “In the middle of the ocean on a boat you weren't even sure was sea-worthy a couple weeks ago. No change of clothes. No toothbrush. No food. No way of contacting anybody! I mean, anything could happen, Pacey, we could drown and never be found. We'd end up on one of those missing persons' shows. Missing presumed dead! And...” She stopped as he reached over, gently took her hand and held it between his. He looked into her eyes reassuringly.
“It's going to be fine. We're going to be fine.” Knowing that his confidence in things sometimes wasn't enough for her, he explained further, “She's sea-worthy. I've tested her extensively. Plus, my skills as a master craftsman should not be under-estimated! I have plenty of clothes and whilst my choice in shirts might be a little, shall we say eccentric? You can wear a couple 'til we get to the next port.” Her face relaxed a little as he counter-balanced her fears. “I even bought a brand new, never-used toothbrush in honour of this epic voyage - you can use that and I'll get another one when we're land-bound.”
“What will you use 'til then?” Joey asked. Pacey held up his index finger with a grin. “Eww, gross!” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, no kissing 'til your oral hygiene improves.”
Pacey's face lit up. “There's gonna be kissing then?”
Joey grinned, “Maybe,” she nodded slowly.
“Well then what does anything else matter?!” He grabbed her and brought her into him for a kiss.
It was fevered and full of relief, punctuated with smiling and laughing until they had to stop.
“I'm also under strict instructions to ring the loving homestead whenever I'm on dry land - who knew they cared, right? - so you can call Bessie at the same time.” He hesitated. “And anyone else you might want to speak to.” It was Pacey's turn to chew his bottom lip, the taste of her still lingering.
“Like Dawson you mean?” She glared at him accusingly as Pacey looked at her. “Well someone had to say it!”
“Yeah, like Dawson,” Pacey replied, annoyed that they had broached the subject so soon after setting off.
The sun had sunk below the horizon now and the moon was behind Joey. He couldn't read her expression in the dim light, but her eyes had definitely lost some of their sparkle. She shivered ever so slightly.
“What am I supposed to say to him?” she wondered quietly, more to herself than Pacey.
“Tell him the truth,” he answered. “It's the only way any of us are gonna get through this.” He took her hand again and felt how cold she had become. He pulled her close and put his arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. Their shape morphed into one and silhouetted against the moonlight.
Sat here on the deck of the boat he had restored himself, with his arm around the girl he had fought long and hard for, Pacey couldn't help but feel proud of himself. He'd spent so long letting other people, and fate or laziness, decide his path in life; but now? He'd worked for what he had right now. He'd put himself on the line and got what he wanted in return, and it wasn't often that happened in his life. He smiled to himself, but then retracted it, still not able to believe he deserved his good fortune.
Joey sighed contentedly, comfortable in the arms of someone she'd spent too long pushing away. The past couple of years that she'd spent looking for something, unsure of what it was, seemed almost comical now that she'd finally realised it was there all along. In the form of Pacey. He epitomised freedom, fun, and joy and adventure. And an excitement she'd never felt around anyone before. This was a grown-up love affair that gave her butterflies thinking about the possibilities.
Pacey kissed the top of her head and she looked up at him. “Time for bed?” he asked. Joey nodded happily.
Let's Talk About Sex
He may have liked people to think otherwise, but Pacey was really just a traditional kind of guy.
His kisses started on the mouth, slow but firm, a grounding force on a girl's soul. He paid attention to the bottom lip before moving across the cheek and planting butterfly kisses on the neck, from just below the earlobe down to the collar bone. At this point it was usually make or break; any further and he'd get a lot further, sounds of protest and he'd have to stop unsatisfied.
He started to kiss Joey's chest with hope. She was soft and and salty and it went to his head.
“Pace,” Joey said softly. He didn't stop. “Pace?” she said louder. He wasn't ignoring her, it was just that her voice was unable to penetrate his conciousness. “Pacey!” she shouted as she pushed his head off her chest.
“What?!” Pacey answered with the self-righteous annoyance of someone who knows exactly what they've done wrong but is trying to pretend otherwise. Joey raised her eyebrows and looked at him knowingly. Conceding defeat, Pacey nodded with resignation, “Yep, OK.” He flopped back onto the deck next to Joey, who raised her head as he put his arm under her neck and round her shoulder.
They passed a few moments in silence, Pacey playing with his girlfriend's hair, she playing with his fingers across her tummy. They stared into the night sky, the novelty of so many bright stars not yet having worn off only a week into their trip.
“Pacey?” Joey broke the silence. Even though they were alone on the boat she said his name often. The feel of it in her mouth was so comfortable and familiar that it always made her feel safe. He turned his head to look at her profile in the moonlight. “Do you ever think about how huge the universe is?” She turned her head to look at him. “How small and insignificant we are in this monstrous, never-ending world-amongst-worlds?”
“You're not small and insignificant, Jo,” he replied quietly.
She often ignored his compliments. They were utterly sincere, but Joey didn't quite feel she deserved them. She looked back at the sky.
“Sometimes I think so hard I feel like my head's gonna explode. The universe is so incomprehensible, Pacey.”
“It used to be.”
“Excuse me?”
“The universe used to be incomprehensible. To me, anyway. Then you arrived on my jetty the minute I was leaving for the summer and told me that you thought you loved me, and then that you actually loved me and the universe kind of fell into place.” He shrugged awkwardly, slightly hampered by his horizontal position. Joey grinned to herself at the compliment she couldn't ignore.
“I'm sorry, Pacey,” she blurted out suddenly.
“Huh?” He pushed himself onto his elbow to look at her face. Damn if the moonlight didn't make her prettier. “What have you got to be sorry for, Potter?” he asked, confused. “Crashing my boat trip? Stealing my heart, not to mention my soul? Wearing my shirts and then looking infinitely better in them than I do?”
Joey giggled in spite of herself and then remembered the conversation she wanted to have; no, they needed to have. She chewed her bottom lip before launching into the speech that she'd been rehearsing in private moments since their first night on the 'True Love'.
“I..I don't want us to rush into anything, Pacey. Teenagers feel so...so pressurised into having sex; everyone wants us to do it: TV shows, magazines, even our own friends! But I don't want us to be one of those couples that dives in head first and then breaks up because we couldn't handle the very adult responsibility of... consummating our relationship.” She sat up and crossed her legs, getting into the swing of things. “I don't want us to be one of those nauseating couples whose relationship is based solely on sex either, we're better than that, Pacey. We're not mindless drones that need to be at it like rabbits because some 50 year old scriptwriter trying to relive his youth thinks that's what we all do all day. And I'm not saying that I don't ever want us to have sex, because I'm sure that eventually, when we're both ready, we could maybe give it a try, I'm just saying we shouldn't rush into it.”
She stopped abruptly and looked at Pacey expectantly, a little scared of what his reaction was going to be. He raised his eyebrows and a smile crept across his lips, “You finished?” Joey nodded. “OK. Well, a lesser man might be hurt that you think I'm a raging sex addict that can't possibly control his hormones, but I can take that on the chin because there's a little truth in it.” He grinned widely. “I know you're not gonna believe a word of what I say, but trust me, it's true.” He sat up, arms casually on his knees, and looked into her eyes. “I don't want to rush into anything either, Jo. I've made my mistakes. Boy, I've made my mistakes, and they're not worth repeating. The truth is, I'm terrified. I'm terrified like it's my first time again. I want nothing more than to do the bunny-hop with you, when you want to get on down in the warren, but the thought of taking that step with our relationship is so... meaningful that I freeze with fear every time I think about it. You're so special to me, Jo, and I don't wanna mess that up.”
Joey hugged her knees, overwhelmed by Pacey's confession. The whole thing was much too huge for this early on in their romantic relationship, but somehow it still felt like everything would be OK. Pacey pouring out his heart like that made her feel older and less inexperienced. She felt on a level playing field now and more like it was them holding hands against the world. She smiled and took Pacey's hand, playing with his fingers again.
“I don't think you're a raging sex addict,” she laughed.
“Well that's not what I was hearing in that speech of yours! How long you been practising that one, huh?” he grinned.
“It was entirely spontaneous and from the heart, Pacey Witter.”
She leaned forward between his knees and kissed him. Although everyone thought otherwise, Joey Potter was not your traditional girl next door. Her kisses could be forceful and determined, the kind that knocked a boy to the ground unexpectedly. With her fingers running through your hair, you weren't sure who was boss, but that's the way that little Joey Potter liked it.
The Young Girl and the Sea
They docked at a busy little seaside village for a few hours. The claustrophobia of the boat, with no one else to talk to but each other or themselves, had made them snappy with one another.
“I'll go and stock up on groceries,” Joey told Pacey as she climbed off the boat.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “We need a few spare parts, I'll go see if I can find a store,” he suggested diplomatically.
They kissed each other obediently on the cheek, more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend, before agreeing to meet back at the 'True Love' at 17:00 hours. Pacey had insisted they do things nautically correct, which Joey had found cute for a while, but the fact they couldn't just say 5pm was now getting on her nerves.
She turned right at the end of the jetty as Pacey turned left, feeling further away from him than she ever had when their only connection was a mutual friendship with Dawson. She glanced back but Pacey was already far down the seafront, almost running.
Joey looked around her. The place was a typical fishing village, bustling with a mixture of fishermen, fishwives and tourists. The day was hot and close, the only salvation the frequent sea breeze, which was thick with a salty mist. Covered with sweat already, Joey dipped into the nearest shop. It turned out to be a thrift store, whose sole ventilation seemed to be a precarious desk fan that looked ready to blow up and burn down the whole row of shops at any moment.
“Hi there, how are you!” the lady behind the counter sang. Joey gave her a small smile and darted behind a tall rack of shoes. She hated the practise of store assistants saying hello, it wasn't even friendly, it was more, “Hi, how are you. I know you're in my store and I'm watching you so don't even dare steal anything.” Or the more desperate: “Hi, how are you, please buy something!” She wondered if it was purely an American custom, she couldn't imagine walking into a French boutique and being harassed in the same way. Suddenly she thought about how she would know the answer to this question had she gone to France, and was struck by the realisation that Pacey had inspired her to spend the summer sailing, whilst Dawson had inspired her to turn down a year in France.
Joey stared absently at a worn, black Mary Jane shoe as she thought about the uncomfortable realisation. A little bead of sweat trickling down her thigh pulled her out of the fog and she sighed with the heat, was about to head next door to the sports shop that surely must have air-conditioning when she noticed the rack of books. Joey always had trouble resisting a display of literature; she was terrible in libraries, getting distracted by poetry and prose when she was meant to be studying, and much the same in book stores - spending ages perusing volumes she couldn't afford, until a snooty store assistant would come and tell her that she wasn't in a library.
Joey twirled the spinning rack, trying to ignore the eyes of the faux-friendly counter lady burning into her back. One cover in particular caught her eye - a man on a boat surrounded by sea, struggling with a huge fish. The look on the man's face reminded her of Pacey; determined and committed, but with a vague resignation to failure hidden quite deep among the confidence. Why was Pacey always so ready to fail? She suddenly wondered.
She picked up the book without even looking at the author and title and took it to the counter. “How much is this, please?” The counter woman eyed her suspiciously, looked over to the rack of books and then broke out in a wide, toothy smile.
“That one's a dollar, honey.” Joey took out her purse and handed the woman a well-worn dollar. “Thanks,” she said and then hurried out into the fresh air.
*
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I got the groceries.” Joey held up her brown paper bag with a shrug.
“I got the parts.” Pacey held up his paper bag. Joey nodded for lack of anything to say and they both boarded the boat silently.
*
Later, after an awkward dinner, Joey curled up in her hammock and stared at the walls that were covered in memorabilia of their trip. The little American flag they'd been given at a 4th July fireworks display in a town she couldn't remember the name of, a bone from the first fish she'd caught, a drawing of Pacey she'd done while he was repairing a sail, a drawing of Joey he'd done in return - all stick limbs and straw hair. She grinned to herself remembering how he'd stuck out his tongue in concentration and peered at her with probing eyes; she'd been fooled into thinking he was taking it seriously. When he revealed his masterpiece with a grin and a flourish, she'd been momentarily disappointed until she remembered the reasons why she loved him in the first place.
Pacey came down the stairs and into the cabin, he stared at Joey with a quizzical look, “Something funny on the wall?”
She smiled at him. “No, Pace, just memories.” He nodded slowly before climbing into his hammock above her.
Joey broke the silence after about a minute. “Hey Pace?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you today.”
He let out a relieved laugh. “You missed me?”
“Yeah, I missed you.”
“We were only apart a couple of hours.”
“I know.”
“Jo?” he said after a few moments.
“Yeah?”
“I missed you too.”
Joey smiled to herself and took Pacey's hand as it dangled from the hammock above. With her other hand she took out her new book and opened it up. Pacey leaned over to look at her.
“What you got there?”
Joey released her hand and looked at the cover before replying, “'The Old Man and the Sea' by Hemingway. The cover reminded me of you.” She smiled up at him.
“Read it to me will ya?”
“Read it to you?”
“Yeah, like I said: I missed you. I want to hear your voice.”
“OK, you big doofus, but only if you read me some too.”
“I do believe you have yourself a deal there, Potter.” He leaned back in his hammock and made himself comfortable. “Do begin.”
Joey rolled her eyes, made herself comfortable and started reading aloud, “He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish.”
Wine and Waves
“What's this?”
Joey's question didn't actually require an answer, she was perfectly aware what was in the bottle she had thrust towards Pacey, it was more a shorter way of asking, “What's this? Where did you get it and what is it doing on board the boat?”
Pacey, who was lying on deck soaking up the sun, opened one eye to see what “it” was. “Looks like a bottle, Jo.” He closed his eye.
“Yeah, Pacey, I can see that. It's a bottle of wine, but where did you get it? What's it doing on board?”
Pacey opened both eyes, swung his legs over the sun lounger he'd salvaged from a Florida beach and peered at Joey and the bottle. “Oh, that!” he chuckled. “They were giving 'em away at the grocery store.”
Joey furrowed her brow in disbelief. “Giving them away?” she repeated dubiously.
“Yeah.” Pacey waved a carefree hand. “Spend twenty dollars and get a free bottle of wine - and we certainly spent over twenty dollars, what with your marshmallow addiction.”
“I do not have a marshmallow addiction!” Joey protested. “Stop trying to change the subject here. Why did you accept it? Who's going to drink it?”
“Does it really matter?” He couldn't quite believe the fuss she was making over something so small and meaningless. “I'd suggest you pour it overboard if it means that much to you, but if they're giving the stuff away I think it's safe to assume it tastes like nothing short of paint stripper and so would only serve to poison the good fish of the Atlantic.”
“Well, I guess I'll put it back in the cupboard then,” Joey sighed before heading back below deck.
“Yes, you do that, Joey Potter.” Pacey shook his head in a mixture of confusion and amusement.
In their bedroom-cum-kitchen, Joey looked at the bottle of wine, wondering how it could be so bad that the store would need to give it away. Loads of people drank wine - Bessie had made a huge fuss about giving it up when she was pregnant with Alexander, and Mitch and Gail always had a glass or two with dinner - it couldn't be that awful could it?
With a quick, guilty glance up the stairs, Joey unscrewed the top of the bottle. She peered down its neck as if something were about jump out at her before grabbing a mug and pouring in some of the liquid. She stared at the mug for a few moments, silently debating the action until curiosity got the better of her and she took a sip.
It was horrifically sharp and bitter and it stung the roof of her mouth. It reminded Joey of liquorice; was wine supposed to taste like liquorice? Contorting her face in disgust, she forced the drink down her throat. Just as she was screwing the top back on the bottle and vowing never to drink wine ever again, a shadow formed in the stairway and Pacey's legs were descending towards her. With no time to hide the evidence she stood dumbly next to the counter.
Pacey paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked curiously at his girlfriend. “What you got there?”
“Apple juice,” she replied too quickly.
“Are you drinking it or just cuddling it?”
Joey looked down at her mug, which she was gripping tightly and holding close to her chest. “Well I'm drinking it, of course.” She tucked some hair behind her ear, embarrassment and fear making her nervous.
“That's good to know,” Pacey smiled. “I'm gonna grab myself some too.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek as he went to the cupboard. Joey continued to stand beside the counter, unsure of where to put herself. Instinctively, she took a sip of her drink. It was just as awful as the first time and she nearly spat it back out, but Pacey was right behind her so she would have to unwillingly swallow the awful wine.
“Come on, Jo, it's another beautiful day.” Pacey announced enthusiastically, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the stairs. “Let's go make the most of it.” With no time to conveniently dump the foul drink, Joey had no choice but to take it up on deck with them.
*
An hour later, Joey was spread out on the cabin roof with her eyes closed.
“You know what, Pacey?!” she shouted without opening her eyes.
“What, honey?” he replied with irony.
“I really feel like I'm at one with the sea today, y'know?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, I really feel like I'm at one with the sea today!” Joey repeated a little louder.
“Yep, that's what I thought you said, but then I thought: No, my girlfriend is far too jaded and cynical for something like that to be coming out of her mouth.”
“I feel like I'm in tune with the waves and the tide,” she continued, ignoring Pacey with a happy grin on her face.
“What?”
Joey opened her eyes and raised herself sloppily onto her elbows with bad posture and a heavy head. “In fact, if I was a student of the Kerouacian school of thought, I would say that I was completely and utterly digging the sea today.” She grinned across the deck at Pacey on his sun lounger and fluffed her hair out from behind her ears. “Not that I've read any of his books, I tried but they're kind of...incoherent and...rambling. They don't make much sense, which is odd seeing how they're so popular -”
“Miss Josephine Potter,” Pacey interrupted. “Are you drunk?” Joey stifled a giggle. “You are, aren't you?” She shook her head seriously as Pacey laughed with surprise. “That apple juice must've been some strong stuff.”
Joey clambered down from the cabin roof as Pacey came to meet her. “Easy there, tiger.” He held her steady, smiling at her stupid grin.
“Whoa,” she groaned. “Vertically, I'm not digging the sea so much.”
“Nope, didn't think it would last.”
Pacey put his arm around his girlfriend and guided her slight frame to his rickety lounger. “Take a seat down there.” She flopped down and fell backwards. He looked at her, all carefree and sun-kissed. Her hair had turned a golden brown from the sunlight and it was now spread out on the fabric of the chair, framing her face; but her eyes were still the deep, chocolate brown in which he tended to get lost. Although it wasn't easy to see them right now, half-closed with alcohol as they were.
“Pacey Witter,” she reached clumsily up towards him.
“That's what they call me.”
“No, listen, Witter.” Pacey held back a smile caused by the sudden and slurred authority in her voice. “You were always such an asshole.” She dragged the last word out and Pacey raised his eyebrows. “I mean,” she continued, “you were so annoying, Pace. Always saying un-,” she struggled. “Unnecc-, uncess-, always saying mean things that didn't need to be said.”
Pacey folded his arms and adopted a serious stance that was laced heavily with amusement. “Don't hold back, Jo. Say what you really think. Before you do, though, you might want to think about the fact that I'll remember this tomorrow morning and you won't.”
“Shut up, Pace,” Joey mumbled without any conviction. “I know why you were always so mean.”
“You do? Well, are you going to enlighten me or can I go get you some coffee? Drunk Joey isn't the least bit attractive.”
“Shut up, Pace.” She stood up with difficulty and lunged towards him, shoving her hand messily over his mouth. “I'm talking here.”
“OK, OK!” Pacey laughed as he removed Joey's hand from his face and helped her back down onto the lounger.
“I always thought you didn't like me because you wanted to hang out with Dawson by yourself. But you didn't like me because you liked me!”
Joey stopped at this final revelation and beamed accusingly at her boyfriend. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for clarification. “Was that supposed to make sense? Because newsflash, Jo - you're making less sense than a black and white, arty French film.”
“Don't try and deny it! You like me, you've always liked me. It's OK, I like that you like me. I like you back and...oh God...” Joey's hand rushed to cover her mouth as she jumped up and darted to the side of the boat.
“Shit!” Pacey followed her and managed to grab her hair just as she started being sick. “Yep,” he sighed. “I like you alright. Way too much for my own good.”
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Pacey/Joey
Rating: T, overall
Word Count: 4,485
Beta: thinkpink20 - who deserves some sort of large award; thank you, lovely!
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them. The final lines of 'The Young Girl and the Sea' belong entirely to Ernest Hemingway, are taken from his brilliant short story 'The Old Man and the Sea' and have nothing whatsoever to do with me.
Summary: A series of four ficlets giving a little insight into what Pacey and Joey might have got up to over their summer sailing trip. The first one explores Joey's feelings after making her decision. The second imagines the conversation they might have had about sex. The third sees the start of that thing that they sometimes do. The fourth has Joey learning a lesson about wine.
A/N: 'Let's Talk About Sex' - So I know that Joey says Pacey "understood without a word" why she wasn't ready on the boat, but a) I wrote this before my series 4 rewatch, and b) I refuse to believe that these kids come to any decision without talking it out in really long words first.
'The Young Girl and the Sea' - Inspired by Joey's gift to Dawson in 4x01 and the "the thing that [Pacey and Joey] sometimes do."
'Wine and Waves' - Inspired by Pacey's line in series 4 about how Joey can't handle her alcohol. It made me wonder how he found that out.
First Night on the Boat
Joey sat at the bow of 'True Love' staring out at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the ocean, but she was oblivious to the beauty as she chewed her bottom lip and lost herself in thought. The initial adrenalin rush of a decision made and action taken had faded away and she was left with the actualities of reality.
Pacey stole quick and concerned glances at her as he crawled around the boat, getting her ready for nightfall. He didn't need to be able to read Joey's face like a book - although he could - to know something was up. He could also take a pretty good stab at what exactly it was.
He sat down gently beside her, but she didn't appear to notice. “Any pirates on the horizon?” He almost made her jump, but not quite.
“What?” She snapped out of her dream-like state almost as if she'd never been in it. “Oh,” she laughed and then shrugged. “Can't see any.” Her smile was sweet and went some way to removing the knot of nerves that had been bothering Pacey's stomach since they had left Capeside.
“Well that's your job, Potter; look out for pirates, and if you do happen to spot any, scare them off.” He looked at her with the serious face he acquired when a joke demanded it. She grinned back at him.
“What with, Pacey, my awful breath when I haven't brushed my teeth for a week?”
“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Exactly that.”
They both fell silent for a few moments as Joey resumed biting her lip, this time staring at the boat's deck.
“What's up, Jo?” Pacey eventually asked with resignation.
She looked up at him and answered too quickly, “Nothing. Nothing's up, Pace.”
“Yes, there is, Jo. C'mon, tell me,” he almost pleaded.
She sighed, rubbed her knees anxiously and knew he wouldn't give up. “Well,” she started, gesticulating angstily with her hands. “What am I doing here, huh?” She looked at him questioningly with wide brown eyes. “In the middle of the ocean on a boat you weren't even sure was sea-worthy a couple weeks ago. No change of clothes. No toothbrush. No food. No way of contacting anybody! I mean, anything could happen, Pacey, we could drown and never be found. We'd end up on one of those missing persons' shows. Missing presumed dead! And...” She stopped as he reached over, gently took her hand and held it between his. He looked into her eyes reassuringly.
“It's going to be fine. We're going to be fine.” Knowing that his confidence in things sometimes wasn't enough for her, he explained further, “She's sea-worthy. I've tested her extensively. Plus, my skills as a master craftsman should not be under-estimated! I have plenty of clothes and whilst my choice in shirts might be a little, shall we say eccentric? You can wear a couple 'til we get to the next port.” Her face relaxed a little as he counter-balanced her fears. “I even bought a brand new, never-used toothbrush in honour of this epic voyage - you can use that and I'll get another one when we're land-bound.”
“What will you use 'til then?” Joey asked. Pacey held up his index finger with a grin. “Eww, gross!” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, no kissing 'til your oral hygiene improves.”
Pacey's face lit up. “There's gonna be kissing then?”
Joey grinned, “Maybe,” she nodded slowly.
“Well then what does anything else matter?!” He grabbed her and brought her into him for a kiss.
It was fevered and full of relief, punctuated with smiling and laughing until they had to stop.
“I'm also under strict instructions to ring the loving homestead whenever I'm on dry land - who knew they cared, right? - so you can call Bessie at the same time.” He hesitated. “And anyone else you might want to speak to.” It was Pacey's turn to chew his bottom lip, the taste of her still lingering.
“Like Dawson you mean?” She glared at him accusingly as Pacey looked at her. “Well someone had to say it!”
“Yeah, like Dawson,” Pacey replied, annoyed that they had broached the subject so soon after setting off.
The sun had sunk below the horizon now and the moon was behind Joey. He couldn't read her expression in the dim light, but her eyes had definitely lost some of their sparkle. She shivered ever so slightly.
“What am I supposed to say to him?” she wondered quietly, more to herself than Pacey.
“Tell him the truth,” he answered. “It's the only way any of us are gonna get through this.” He took her hand again and felt how cold she had become. He pulled her close and put his arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. Their shape morphed into one and silhouetted against the moonlight.
Sat here on the deck of the boat he had restored himself, with his arm around the girl he had fought long and hard for, Pacey couldn't help but feel proud of himself. He'd spent so long letting other people, and fate or laziness, decide his path in life; but now? He'd worked for what he had right now. He'd put himself on the line and got what he wanted in return, and it wasn't often that happened in his life. He smiled to himself, but then retracted it, still not able to believe he deserved his good fortune.
Joey sighed contentedly, comfortable in the arms of someone she'd spent too long pushing away. The past couple of years that she'd spent looking for something, unsure of what it was, seemed almost comical now that she'd finally realised it was there all along. In the form of Pacey. He epitomised freedom, fun, and joy and adventure. And an excitement she'd never felt around anyone before. This was a grown-up love affair that gave her butterflies thinking about the possibilities.
Pacey kissed the top of her head and she looked up at him. “Time for bed?” he asked. Joey nodded happily.
Let's Talk About Sex
He may have liked people to think otherwise, but Pacey was really just a traditional kind of guy.
His kisses started on the mouth, slow but firm, a grounding force on a girl's soul. He paid attention to the bottom lip before moving across the cheek and planting butterfly kisses on the neck, from just below the earlobe down to the collar bone. At this point it was usually make or break; any further and he'd get a lot further, sounds of protest and he'd have to stop unsatisfied.
He started to kiss Joey's chest with hope. She was soft and and salty and it went to his head.
“Pace,” Joey said softly. He didn't stop. “Pace?” she said louder. He wasn't ignoring her, it was just that her voice was unable to penetrate his conciousness. “Pacey!” she shouted as she pushed his head off her chest.
“What?!” Pacey answered with the self-righteous annoyance of someone who knows exactly what they've done wrong but is trying to pretend otherwise. Joey raised her eyebrows and looked at him knowingly. Conceding defeat, Pacey nodded with resignation, “Yep, OK.” He flopped back onto the deck next to Joey, who raised her head as he put his arm under her neck and round her shoulder.
They passed a few moments in silence, Pacey playing with his girlfriend's hair, she playing with his fingers across her tummy. They stared into the night sky, the novelty of so many bright stars not yet having worn off only a week into their trip.
“Pacey?” Joey broke the silence. Even though they were alone on the boat she said his name often. The feel of it in her mouth was so comfortable and familiar that it always made her feel safe. He turned his head to look at her profile in the moonlight. “Do you ever think about how huge the universe is?” She turned her head to look at him. “How small and insignificant we are in this monstrous, never-ending world-amongst-worlds?”
“You're not small and insignificant, Jo,” he replied quietly.
She often ignored his compliments. They were utterly sincere, but Joey didn't quite feel she deserved them. She looked back at the sky.
“Sometimes I think so hard I feel like my head's gonna explode. The universe is so incomprehensible, Pacey.”
“It used to be.”
“Excuse me?”
“The universe used to be incomprehensible. To me, anyway. Then you arrived on my jetty the minute I was leaving for the summer and told me that you thought you loved me, and then that you actually loved me and the universe kind of fell into place.” He shrugged awkwardly, slightly hampered by his horizontal position. Joey grinned to herself at the compliment she couldn't ignore.
“I'm sorry, Pacey,” she blurted out suddenly.
“Huh?” He pushed himself onto his elbow to look at her face. Damn if the moonlight didn't make her prettier. “What have you got to be sorry for, Potter?” he asked, confused. “Crashing my boat trip? Stealing my heart, not to mention my soul? Wearing my shirts and then looking infinitely better in them than I do?”
Joey giggled in spite of herself and then remembered the conversation she wanted to have; no, they needed to have. She chewed her bottom lip before launching into the speech that she'd been rehearsing in private moments since their first night on the 'True Love'.
“I..I don't want us to rush into anything, Pacey. Teenagers feel so...so pressurised into having sex; everyone wants us to do it: TV shows, magazines, even our own friends! But I don't want us to be one of those couples that dives in head first and then breaks up because we couldn't handle the very adult responsibility of... consummating our relationship.” She sat up and crossed her legs, getting into the swing of things. “I don't want us to be one of those nauseating couples whose relationship is based solely on sex either, we're better than that, Pacey. We're not mindless drones that need to be at it like rabbits because some 50 year old scriptwriter trying to relive his youth thinks that's what we all do all day. And I'm not saying that I don't ever want us to have sex, because I'm sure that eventually, when we're both ready, we could maybe give it a try, I'm just saying we shouldn't rush into it.”
She stopped abruptly and looked at Pacey expectantly, a little scared of what his reaction was going to be. He raised his eyebrows and a smile crept across his lips, “You finished?” Joey nodded. “OK. Well, a lesser man might be hurt that you think I'm a raging sex addict that can't possibly control his hormones, but I can take that on the chin because there's a little truth in it.” He grinned widely. “I know you're not gonna believe a word of what I say, but trust me, it's true.” He sat up, arms casually on his knees, and looked into her eyes. “I don't want to rush into anything either, Jo. I've made my mistakes. Boy, I've made my mistakes, and they're not worth repeating. The truth is, I'm terrified. I'm terrified like it's my first time again. I want nothing more than to do the bunny-hop with you, when you want to get on down in the warren, but the thought of taking that step with our relationship is so... meaningful that I freeze with fear every time I think about it. You're so special to me, Jo, and I don't wanna mess that up.”
Joey hugged her knees, overwhelmed by Pacey's confession. The whole thing was much too huge for this early on in their romantic relationship, but somehow it still felt like everything would be OK. Pacey pouring out his heart like that made her feel older and less inexperienced. She felt on a level playing field now and more like it was them holding hands against the world. She smiled and took Pacey's hand, playing with his fingers again.
“I don't think you're a raging sex addict,” she laughed.
“Well that's not what I was hearing in that speech of yours! How long you been practising that one, huh?” he grinned.
“It was entirely spontaneous and from the heart, Pacey Witter.”
She leaned forward between his knees and kissed him. Although everyone thought otherwise, Joey Potter was not your traditional girl next door. Her kisses could be forceful and determined, the kind that knocked a boy to the ground unexpectedly. With her fingers running through your hair, you weren't sure who was boss, but that's the way that little Joey Potter liked it.
The Young Girl and the Sea
They docked at a busy little seaside village for a few hours. The claustrophobia of the boat, with no one else to talk to but each other or themselves, had made them snappy with one another.
“I'll go and stock up on groceries,” Joey told Pacey as she climbed off the boat.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “We need a few spare parts, I'll go see if I can find a store,” he suggested diplomatically.
They kissed each other obediently on the cheek, more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend, before agreeing to meet back at the 'True Love' at 17:00 hours. Pacey had insisted they do things nautically correct, which Joey had found cute for a while, but the fact they couldn't just say 5pm was now getting on her nerves.
She turned right at the end of the jetty as Pacey turned left, feeling further away from him than she ever had when their only connection was a mutual friendship with Dawson. She glanced back but Pacey was already far down the seafront, almost running.
Joey looked around her. The place was a typical fishing village, bustling with a mixture of fishermen, fishwives and tourists. The day was hot and close, the only salvation the frequent sea breeze, which was thick with a salty mist. Covered with sweat already, Joey dipped into the nearest shop. It turned out to be a thrift store, whose sole ventilation seemed to be a precarious desk fan that looked ready to blow up and burn down the whole row of shops at any moment.
“Hi there, how are you!” the lady behind the counter sang. Joey gave her a small smile and darted behind a tall rack of shoes. She hated the practise of store assistants saying hello, it wasn't even friendly, it was more, “Hi, how are you. I know you're in my store and I'm watching you so don't even dare steal anything.” Or the more desperate: “Hi, how are you, please buy something!” She wondered if it was purely an American custom, she couldn't imagine walking into a French boutique and being harassed in the same way. Suddenly she thought about how she would know the answer to this question had she gone to France, and was struck by the realisation that Pacey had inspired her to spend the summer sailing, whilst Dawson had inspired her to turn down a year in France.
Joey stared absently at a worn, black Mary Jane shoe as she thought about the uncomfortable realisation. A little bead of sweat trickling down her thigh pulled her out of the fog and she sighed with the heat, was about to head next door to the sports shop that surely must have air-conditioning when she noticed the rack of books. Joey always had trouble resisting a display of literature; she was terrible in libraries, getting distracted by poetry and prose when she was meant to be studying, and much the same in book stores - spending ages perusing volumes she couldn't afford, until a snooty store assistant would come and tell her that she wasn't in a library.
Joey twirled the spinning rack, trying to ignore the eyes of the faux-friendly counter lady burning into her back. One cover in particular caught her eye - a man on a boat surrounded by sea, struggling with a huge fish. The look on the man's face reminded her of Pacey; determined and committed, but with a vague resignation to failure hidden quite deep among the confidence. Why was Pacey always so ready to fail? She suddenly wondered.
She picked up the book without even looking at the author and title and took it to the counter. “How much is this, please?” The counter woman eyed her suspiciously, looked over to the rack of books and then broke out in a wide, toothy smile.
“That one's a dollar, honey.” Joey took out her purse and handed the woman a well-worn dollar. “Thanks,” she said and then hurried out into the fresh air.
*
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I got the groceries.” Joey held up her brown paper bag with a shrug.
“I got the parts.” Pacey held up his paper bag. Joey nodded for lack of anything to say and they both boarded the boat silently.
*
Later, after an awkward dinner, Joey curled up in her hammock and stared at the walls that were covered in memorabilia of their trip. The little American flag they'd been given at a 4th July fireworks display in a town she couldn't remember the name of, a bone from the first fish she'd caught, a drawing of Pacey she'd done while he was repairing a sail, a drawing of Joey he'd done in return - all stick limbs and straw hair. She grinned to herself remembering how he'd stuck out his tongue in concentration and peered at her with probing eyes; she'd been fooled into thinking he was taking it seriously. When he revealed his masterpiece with a grin and a flourish, she'd been momentarily disappointed until she remembered the reasons why she loved him in the first place.
Pacey came down the stairs and into the cabin, he stared at Joey with a quizzical look, “Something funny on the wall?”
She smiled at him. “No, Pace, just memories.” He nodded slowly before climbing into his hammock above her.
Joey broke the silence after about a minute. “Hey Pace?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you today.”
He let out a relieved laugh. “You missed me?”
“Yeah, I missed you.”
“We were only apart a couple of hours.”
“I know.”
“Jo?” he said after a few moments.
“Yeah?”
“I missed you too.”
Joey smiled to herself and took Pacey's hand as it dangled from the hammock above. With her other hand she took out her new book and opened it up. Pacey leaned over to look at her.
“What you got there?”
Joey released her hand and looked at the cover before replying, “'The Old Man and the Sea' by Hemingway. The cover reminded me of you.” She smiled up at him.
“Read it to me will ya?”
“Read it to you?”
“Yeah, like I said: I missed you. I want to hear your voice.”
“OK, you big doofus, but only if you read me some too.”
“I do believe you have yourself a deal there, Potter.” He leaned back in his hammock and made himself comfortable. “Do begin.”
Joey rolled her eyes, made herself comfortable and started reading aloud, “He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish.”
Wine and Waves
“What's this?”
Joey's question didn't actually require an answer, she was perfectly aware what was in the bottle she had thrust towards Pacey, it was more a shorter way of asking, “What's this? Where did you get it and what is it doing on board the boat?”
Pacey, who was lying on deck soaking up the sun, opened one eye to see what “it” was. “Looks like a bottle, Jo.” He closed his eye.
“Yeah, Pacey, I can see that. It's a bottle of wine, but where did you get it? What's it doing on board?”
Pacey opened both eyes, swung his legs over the sun lounger he'd salvaged from a Florida beach and peered at Joey and the bottle. “Oh, that!” he chuckled. “They were giving 'em away at the grocery store.”
Joey furrowed her brow in disbelief. “Giving them away?” she repeated dubiously.
“Yeah.” Pacey waved a carefree hand. “Spend twenty dollars and get a free bottle of wine - and we certainly spent over twenty dollars, what with your marshmallow addiction.”
“I do not have a marshmallow addiction!” Joey protested. “Stop trying to change the subject here. Why did you accept it? Who's going to drink it?”
“Does it really matter?” He couldn't quite believe the fuss she was making over something so small and meaningless. “I'd suggest you pour it overboard if it means that much to you, but if they're giving the stuff away I think it's safe to assume it tastes like nothing short of paint stripper and so would only serve to poison the good fish of the Atlantic.”
“Well, I guess I'll put it back in the cupboard then,” Joey sighed before heading back below deck.
“Yes, you do that, Joey Potter.” Pacey shook his head in a mixture of confusion and amusement.
In their bedroom-cum-kitchen, Joey looked at the bottle of wine, wondering how it could be so bad that the store would need to give it away. Loads of people drank wine - Bessie had made a huge fuss about giving it up when she was pregnant with Alexander, and Mitch and Gail always had a glass or two with dinner - it couldn't be that awful could it?
With a quick, guilty glance up the stairs, Joey unscrewed the top of the bottle. She peered down its neck as if something were about jump out at her before grabbing a mug and pouring in some of the liquid. She stared at the mug for a few moments, silently debating the action until curiosity got the better of her and she took a sip.
It was horrifically sharp and bitter and it stung the roof of her mouth. It reminded Joey of liquorice; was wine supposed to taste like liquorice? Contorting her face in disgust, she forced the drink down her throat. Just as she was screwing the top back on the bottle and vowing never to drink wine ever again, a shadow formed in the stairway and Pacey's legs were descending towards her. With no time to hide the evidence she stood dumbly next to the counter.
Pacey paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked curiously at his girlfriend. “What you got there?”
“Apple juice,” she replied too quickly.
“Are you drinking it or just cuddling it?”
Joey looked down at her mug, which she was gripping tightly and holding close to her chest. “Well I'm drinking it, of course.” She tucked some hair behind her ear, embarrassment and fear making her nervous.
“That's good to know,” Pacey smiled. “I'm gonna grab myself some too.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek as he went to the cupboard. Joey continued to stand beside the counter, unsure of where to put herself. Instinctively, she took a sip of her drink. It was just as awful as the first time and she nearly spat it back out, but Pacey was right behind her so she would have to unwillingly swallow the awful wine.
“Come on, Jo, it's another beautiful day.” Pacey announced enthusiastically, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the stairs. “Let's go make the most of it.” With no time to conveniently dump the foul drink, Joey had no choice but to take it up on deck with them.
*
An hour later, Joey was spread out on the cabin roof with her eyes closed.
“You know what, Pacey?!” she shouted without opening her eyes.
“What, honey?” he replied with irony.
“I really feel like I'm at one with the sea today, y'know?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, I really feel like I'm at one with the sea today!” Joey repeated a little louder.
“Yep, that's what I thought you said, but then I thought: No, my girlfriend is far too jaded and cynical for something like that to be coming out of her mouth.”
“I feel like I'm in tune with the waves and the tide,” she continued, ignoring Pacey with a happy grin on her face.
“What?”
Joey opened her eyes and raised herself sloppily onto her elbows with bad posture and a heavy head. “In fact, if I was a student of the Kerouacian school of thought, I would say that I was completely and utterly digging the sea today.” She grinned across the deck at Pacey on his sun lounger and fluffed her hair out from behind her ears. “Not that I've read any of his books, I tried but they're kind of...incoherent and...rambling. They don't make much sense, which is odd seeing how they're so popular -”
“Miss Josephine Potter,” Pacey interrupted. “Are you drunk?” Joey stifled a giggle. “You are, aren't you?” She shook her head seriously as Pacey laughed with surprise. “That apple juice must've been some strong stuff.”
Joey clambered down from the cabin roof as Pacey came to meet her. “Easy there, tiger.” He held her steady, smiling at her stupid grin.
“Whoa,” she groaned. “Vertically, I'm not digging the sea so much.”
“Nope, didn't think it would last.”
Pacey put his arm around his girlfriend and guided her slight frame to his rickety lounger. “Take a seat down there.” She flopped down and fell backwards. He looked at her, all carefree and sun-kissed. Her hair had turned a golden brown from the sunlight and it was now spread out on the fabric of the chair, framing her face; but her eyes were still the deep, chocolate brown in which he tended to get lost. Although it wasn't easy to see them right now, half-closed with alcohol as they were.
“Pacey Witter,” she reached clumsily up towards him.
“That's what they call me.”
“No, listen, Witter.” Pacey held back a smile caused by the sudden and slurred authority in her voice. “You were always such an asshole.” She dragged the last word out and Pacey raised his eyebrows. “I mean,” she continued, “you were so annoying, Pace. Always saying un-,” she struggled. “Unnecc-, uncess-, always saying mean things that didn't need to be said.”
Pacey folded his arms and adopted a serious stance that was laced heavily with amusement. “Don't hold back, Jo. Say what you really think. Before you do, though, you might want to think about the fact that I'll remember this tomorrow morning and you won't.”
“Shut up, Pace,” Joey mumbled without any conviction. “I know why you were always so mean.”
“You do? Well, are you going to enlighten me or can I go get you some coffee? Drunk Joey isn't the least bit attractive.”
“Shut up, Pace.” She stood up with difficulty and lunged towards him, shoving her hand messily over his mouth. “I'm talking here.”
“OK, OK!” Pacey laughed as he removed Joey's hand from his face and helped her back down onto the lounger.
“I always thought you didn't like me because you wanted to hang out with Dawson by yourself. But you didn't like me because you liked me!”
Joey stopped at this final revelation and beamed accusingly at her boyfriend. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for clarification. “Was that supposed to make sense? Because newsflash, Jo - you're making less sense than a black and white, arty French film.”
“Don't try and deny it! You like me, you've always liked me. It's OK, I like that you like me. I like you back and...oh God...” Joey's hand rushed to cover her mouth as she jumped up and darted to the side of the boat.
“Shit!” Pacey followed her and managed to grab her hair just as she started being sick. “Yep,” he sighed. “I like you alright. Way too much for my own good.”