Mr. Wonderful

Part 1

by Jade

Disclaimer: The main characters, except Rachel, were not created by and do not belong to me, but to a man named Kevin Williamson and the Dawson's Creek's production companies Tristar-Columbia Television, Sony Pictures Entertainment and the Warner Bros. Network.

Summary: The story takes place in New York, 10 years after high school. In the midst of an impending wedding, Pacey and Joey struggle to come to terms with hidden feelings and past regrets.

Author's Note (in 2003): This was my first piece of fanfic, written circa mid-1998. Imagine the end of the first season and then start reading.

New York, 2010

The television set remained ignored, as it had been for the last fifteen minutes or so. As Sleepless In Seattle continued to play on the screen in the background, giggling could be heard from the couch, where Pacey Witter was half on top of Rachel McGillis, blowing into her ear and tickling her sides.

"Stop it, Pacey! That tickles!"

Pacey smiled and raised his head to look into her eyes. She smiled back at him. As he leaned in closer to kiss her, the telephone rang, causing him to look up toward it.

"Let the machine get it," Rachel mumbled against his neck.

"All right," he said and turned his attention back to her mouth.

 A male voice rang out in the living room. "Pacey! You there? I think you should get down here ASAP."

Pacey sighed. Rachel didn't look too pleased either. 

"I'm sorry, honey.  I can't leave h-"

Rachel scrambled off the couch, from underneath him and exploded into a fit of anger.  "Damn it, Pacey! I'm getting sick and tired of this!" She calmed down a little. "Tell me this is because of work."

Pacey had already slipped his shoes on and was reaching for his coat. He looked at her and silently pleaded with her to understand.

Rachel fell back against the couch and closed her eyes in resignation. "I'll call a cab. You go." Pacey walked over, kissed her good night and left. Surrounded by the silence in the empty apartment, Rachel whispered to no one in particular.

"I love you."

Pacey got to the bar in record time. "Where is she?" he asked Chris the bartender, whom he's known for as long as since it's been officially legal for him to drink. Sam's used to be his regular hangout until he decided he couldn't resort to drinking every time he was depressed, which was a lot of the time really.

He turned his head in the direction of Chris's finger and spotted her on the dance floor almost immediately. She wasn't easy to miss.

"May I cut in?"

The short and balding man, whose shoulder he tapped, handed the tall and slim brunette without argument, rather afraid of the six-footer himself.

She moved closer and rested her cheek on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He instinctively hugged her close.

"Hiya Pace," she said softly.

"Josephine, what are you doing to yourself?" he asked just as softly.

There was a moment of silence before she removed her head from his shoulder and looked up at him.

"Dawson's getting married."

Pacey was hardly surprised. His other best friend had told him about his decision to propose one week ago. Looks like he succeeded, Pacey thought to himself.

Waiting for a further reaction from Joey, he got nothing as she went back into his arms and swayed slowly to the music. He couldn't see her face and had no idea what she was feeling.

The clock in the car read 0:00. Pacey turned off the engine and looked at the figure slumped on the passenger seat. He reached out a hand to touch Joey's face. She stirred and mumbled something. Pacey was amazed at how young and vulnerable she looked when she was quiet and asleep...almost as if she were fifteen again, before things had to change, before they all had to grow up.

He got out of the car and walked over to her side.

He nudged her. "Joey, we're home."

No response.

"Jo?"

She made a squeaky noise that might have been interpreted as "Go away, I want to sleep."

"Come on, Josephine," he said as he kneeled down and put one arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back, ready to carry her. He picked her up rather effortlessly and tried to shift most of her weight to one arm while he removed the other for a second to lock the car door, before making his way up the front stairs to their apartment block.

They lived in a two-room apartment, moderately furnished but nevertheless, comfortable. Pacey kicked the door shut and made his way to the bedrooms on the right. He lay Joey on her bed, took off her shoes, stripped her down to her slip and tucked her in.

He brushed a lock of hair from her face and kissed her on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."

Joey staggered into the bathroom the next morning. Pacey was humming in the shower after his Sunday jog when he heard her rummaging through the cabinet and cursing. 

"The aspirins are at the back of the last shelf," he shouted to be heard above the rush of the water.

Joey grabbed a couple of pills, filled a glass with tap water and downed them all at one go. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror, she groaned, "God, I look like shit." Sitting herself on the toilet, she rested her head in her hands. "What a hangover," she muttered under her breath.

Pacey turned off the shower. "Isn't it a great day?"

"Bite me, Pacey."

"Later. Pass me the towel, will you?"

She grudgingly did so and continued to wallow in self-misery, seated on the toilet. Pacey pushed the curtain aside and stepped out of the tub, half-naked. Being roommates for the last four and a half years had allowed a familiarity between them that preceded any sort of uneasiness or awkwardness that might result from a guy and a girl living together, not as lovers.

Pacey stuck his head back into the bathroom after slipping on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in his room. Brushing his fingers through his wet hair, he called out, "Joey, come on, I fixed us breakfast."

Making the effort to lift her head that pounded a little more with every move she made, she picked herself up and practically dragged herself into the living room that also served as a small kitchen in the corner. She half-collapsed onto the couch and felt a stab of pain beneath her. "Ouch!" Reaching behind her, she pulled out an earring. "You and Rachel wouldn't happen to have been up to something on this couch last night, would you?"

"Well, we would have if I hadn't suddenly developed an urge to rescue you from unwanted male attention at the bar last night."

"Who said it was unwanted attention?"

Pacey raised an eyebrow at her. She didn't respond.

Coffee was brewing in the pot and it smelled good. Pacey handed her a steaming mug and she took it with gratitude. "You're a life savior."

He sat on the coffee table, placing himself in direct eye contact with her. "Tell me."

Joey pretended she didn't understand. "Tell you what?"

He didn't budge and waited silently for her answer.

"All right, she relented, putting her mug down, Craig dumped me. There, you happy?"

"That was last week's excuse. Try again."

Joey rolled her eyes. Inside, she wasn't even sure she knew why.

Pacey sensed her confusion and decided to give her some space before she resented him. He knew how much she hated it when he read her like a book.

"Okay," he slapped his hands on his lap and stood up from the table, "Go soak in the tub or something. We'll have Chinese takeout tonight."

He was half-out the door before she called him back, "Are you meeting Rachel?" Her nose instinctively twitched with distaste the moment she uttered that name.

"I saw that."

"So what? She doesn't like me either."

"Good-bye," he said with a finality that signaled the end of the conversation and closed the door silently behind him.

 To be continued...

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