This story starts near Christmas. The summer before, Joey arrived at the dock just moments too late to declare her feelings to Pacey. He sailed off, not knowing. And stayed gone, bumming around teh waters of south Florida. Dawson took up with Gretchen. And Joey has spent much of the time on the outside, looking in...
If he kept a journal, Pacey Witter knew just what he's write for the day's entry;
Memo to self: when accepting an invitation from a lady to stay with her? Make sure her husband isn't expected home any time too soon.
It had been just like something out of a soap opera. He'd been coming out of the shower. Heard the door close downstairs. A deep voice yelling up. The woman in bed rolling over and saying "That sounds just like my husband."
Pacey had never dressed so fast in his life.
He'd slipped out the back door and raced down the lawn to the water's edge. Jumped onto the private pier and down to the True Love, making her ready with nimble fingers.
Just not quite fast enough.
"You seem to be trespassing," the urbane gentleman had announced, strolling onto the pier with a fierce expression.
"Do I?" Pacey asked, pulling in his line.
"Well, this is my house, my land, and my dock…but not my sloop. Perhaps my wife bought it while I was away? She does like to have her little surprises."
Back up by the road at the front of the property, Pacey could just make out the private security guards heading down from the driveway.
The guy must have called before he even entered the house, Pacey thought with frustration. "No, she's mine - all 22 feet of her," he said out loud, walking astern.
"Oh, I doubt that," he very deliberately placed a foot firmly on the line to stop Pacey from freeing it. "This is not a toy for children. What is she – a '69 Columbia?"
"'67," Pacey corrected, giving up on getting the line loose from the guy and reaching into his toolkit for his Bowie. "Good year for boats. And women."
"You little shit," the man snarled. "We'll see if you're so cocky once you're in custody for trespassing," He indicated the approaching security guys with a toss of his head.
Pacey tensed. They looked armed. Who gives Mickey Mouse rent-a-cops guns? Gritting his teeth, he brought the knife up into view and sliced the line.
The True Love was free.
Pacey primed the engine, praying it'd catch. Otherwise, this was gonna be the shortest fucking escape in history.
The guards skidded to a stop next to him on the pier and leaned out to the boat, which was drifting now just barely out of reach.
C'mon baby, Pacey begged the motor. C'mon, c'mon…
With a grumble and spit, it turned over. Pacey grinned in relief, his heart thudding, as he accelerated away with a jaunty wave. "Give my regards to the missus!"
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"This has to be settled sometime, right?" Andie's gaze went to where Joey sat across the cafeteria.
"Well, we keep thinking there's a thaw in relations but somehow it never gets fixed. I think it's gonna take Jimmy Carter."
"Or Nelson Mandela."
"Or Bono."
"Ooh, if it's Bono, I totally have dibs."
"Are we accessorizing our lunch today with banter about Joey and Pacey?" Drue took the seat next to Jack. "How novel!"
"Get lost," Jen flashed a wicked fake smile.
"Someone should really tell him that the blue sunglasses are passe."
"Heresy! The glasses are classic, man."
"You guys make it sound like some kind of sustained war," Dawson interjected. "It's just…"
"Impasse?" Andie supplied. She flipped through the pages of her textbook as she sipped a diet soda.
"Exactly. It is utterly at odds with the Joey I've known all my life. Even though he's gone, his influence is still here poisoning the well."
"Seriously, Dawson? I think you're giving too much power to the guy. She isolates at school out of some misguided notion of respecting you," Jack pointed his fork at Dawson. "Which I think is stupid."
"Don't you think I would like her to be sitting with us?"
"Would you?" Jack challenged.
"Yeah, actually. I would."
"Then be the hero here," Andie advised.
"How very Dr. Phil of you," Jen observed.
Across the room, Joey stood and packed up her books. Without a tired half-smile in their table's direction, she left down the hall.
"Just go after her," Jack urged.
Dawson just pursed his lips and shook his head.
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Drue carried the keg into the restaurant on his shoulder. He stopped inside the door and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.
"Over here!" Gretchen called. "Thanks for bringing these over."
Drue appraised her body appreciatively.
Gretchen rolled her eyes. "Take them down cellar," she pointed at the door.
"I'll show you," Dawson offered, leading the way towards the basement door. He lifted a chin in greeting to Andie, who smiled back.
"Hey, Andie," Gretchen called. "You here for Dawson?"
"Hi," Andie offered quietly. "No, I just thought I'd see if Mrs. Leery was hiring for the holidays? I've done some banquet work."
"I think she is," Gretchen leaned down and looked for an application on the shelf.
A postcard on the hostess podium caught Andie's eye. When Gretchen stood, she offered the post card. "It's from Pacey."
"Oh, then it's private, I…"
"Go ahead."
The picture was a large white mansion on a small island, with large ships docked on either side. 'Luca Island Yacht Club', Pacey had drawn an arrow and written 'I am here'. She traced the depression of his writing with a fingertip before flipping it over and reading the message.
"He's not coming back?" She couldn't believe it.
"Guess not right now," Gretchen sighed. "Merry Christmas Mom and Dad."
"What?" Dawson came to stand behind Gretchen.
Andie reluctantly handed it over.
"Huh," Dawson scanned it quickly and put it down on the podium. "You OK?" He asked Gretchen, almost kissing her but not quite.
Andie backed away, uncomfortable to be intruding. Lost in thought, forgetting the application, she headed out the door.
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Joey walked out of her room at the B&B, shocked to see Andie in the kitchen.
"Uh, hi…" She looked around to see if anyone else was there.
Andie cut right to the chase. "Do you still want him?"