Joey stood a Pacey's door, hand poised to knock, but she didn't. Again. "This is crazy." she muttered to herself. It's just Pacey. And she really needed to talk to him. After what she dubbed as Prom II, they hadn't spoken. She was busy studying for finals and trying to get her relationship with Eddie back on track and she figured he needed some time to deal with her decision. But, his friendship meant a lot to her and she missed him terribly. It was selfish, she knew, to expect him to fall back into their friendship like nothing happened, but she needed him. That much was still as true now as it was on The Longest Day (Ever). Before she could stop herself, she reached up and knocked.

When she got no immediate answer, she knocked again. Joey knew it was pretty late, but she saw the lights on as she left Hell's Kitchen. She she figured he was still up since Jen told her Jack was crashing at Gram's with her tonight. Joey was about to give up when she heard a breathy "Just a minute!" from the other side of the door and smiled in spite of herself. God, she missed his voice.

When the door opened, it revealed a half-naked Pacey on the other side. Clad only in jeans that were unbuttoned and barely zipped with the waistband of his boxers peeking out, he whispered her name in shock. Then, "What are you doing here?"

Joey fidgeted. "I, ah, was hoping we could talk for a few minutes."

Pacey hesitated a moment and then stepped out of the way so she could enter. After she was inside, he closed the door and walked to the kitchen island. He leaned against it crossed his arms over his naked torso, which was more defined than she remembered from seeing it briefly over spring break last year. Her mouth went dry and she momentarily forgot what she wanted to say.

"Jo," he said impatiently. "It's kinda late. What do you want?"

"I miss you, Pace," she admitted. "I miss our friendship."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I miss you, too, Joey. I just need some time, ok?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, disheartened.

He bowed his head for a moment and then when he looked up, Joey saw the pain in his eyes. "I need to live my own life for a while."

His statement caused Joey to flash back to their graduation party when he had said the same thing to her before hopping a plane to Miami to sail away. Joey's stomach dropped. What if he left again? "You aren't leaving are you?" she asked almost desperately.

He shook his head, "No, Joey. I don't run away. Not anymore. That's your shtick now."

Offended by his statement, Joey was about to object when he continued. "You'll never lose me as a friend, Jo, but I need some space. I think some distance from all things Capeside is what's best for me for a while."

"Why?"

Before he could answer her question, Joey heard a familiar female voice call his name from upstairs. "Pace," the woman purred, "Where are you? I'm getting lonely."

Joey gasped as Sadia Shaw padded down the spiral staircase dressed only in one of Pacey's plain t-shirts. When Sadia reached the first floor, she noticed Joey but passed right by her and sidled up to Pacey, leaning into his body. He lifted a hand from his side and placed it lightly on her back. "I just need a minute," he said softly, nodding in Joey's direction. "I'll be up then."

Sadia nodded and stepped out of his embrace. On her way back, she looked at Joey and paused. Then she glanced between them, seemed to have a realization, and said, "I guess your loss is my gain." Without another word, she climbed the stairs.

When Joey turned back to Pacey, she was fuming. Clearly he had burned The Reporter's name and number into his memory. She was about to open her mouth to let him have it when he held up a finger.

"Don't," he said, with an unequivocal note of hardness in his voice. "You lost the right to comment on my personal life when you dumped me, Jo."

"So, what?" she asked, exasperated. "I can't be concerned for my friend when I see he is making a self-destructive mistake?"

"No."

"Pace, this isn't you."

He crossed his arms defensively. "Would I prefer to be with a woman I love rather than have a meaningless fling? Yes. But that's not going to happen. I've finally accepted it. And I've decided to move on with my life."

Joey reeled back from his declaration as if slapped. Why did she feel like she was being let off the hook by Pacey? She was still trying to process what he said when he moved to the door. Hand on the doorknob, he said, "Good luck on your finals, Jo. I hope you have a fun summer in Capeside. I'll be back to visit a few weekends here and there, so maybe we'll catch up then, ok?"

When he opened the door, Joey forced herself to move toward it. "Bye, Pace," was the only thing she could think to say.

When she walked through it, he closed it softly behind her, which was louder than any slam could have been.

Two days later when Dawson phoned Pacey at work to sell the Stepotech stock, he tried to convince him to keep it; but, Dawson was adamant, so he sold the shares. Pacey had a feeling the company was going to take off once the FDA approval went through, but he didn't want to be responsible for losing Dawson's nest egg in the event it didn't. The last thing he needed right now was to be blamed for ruining the guy's life - again. Given how spectacularly he failed when crossing business and personal boundaries with Joey during their little redux, he decided that he would set some clear boundaries with Dawson as well. The next time he got back to Capeside, probably Memorial Day, he planned to talk to him about having someone else in the company take over his brokerage account. After seeing Joey last night, he knew a clean break regarding blurred lines with the Capeside Bunch would be best.

Pacey meant what he said to her. He would prefer to be with her, the woman he loves, but he was done with hanging on to possibility when none exists. For now, he'd enjoy his arrangement with Sadia and further his career. He never planned to be a broker, but he liked it and was damn good at it, too. None of his friends understand what this job - no career - means to him and his future. Sure, working 60 hours a week sucks sometimes, but it will give him more freedom in the end. With the money he was bound to make, he could live comfortably and maybe even buy a new boat or invest in his own restaurant someday. Sailing and cooking were pretty much everything that mattered to him anymore anyway. The broker life wasn't perfect, but it got him one step closer his perfect life every day.