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."