Rating: So far, PG-13... a couple of bad words thrown in, you know what a potty-mouth I have!
Feedback: Please, please, please write me... I hate to beg, but this is what it's come down to. I want your feedback and I want it now! Please drop me a line at pilar@chickmail.com. Thanks!
Pacey reached his arm out from beneath his comforter and slapped his alarm clock, maybe he could get back into his dream in the nine minutes of snooze time he could afford. He felt himself drift off...
They were entangled in each other's arms, the tall grass tickling his bare back. He twisted his fingers through her hair, running his tongue along her lithe neck. "Abby...," he whispered in her ear.
Abby? His eyes opened with a start. He kicked the blanket off of his sweat-drenched body and ran a hand up his chest to his throat. Not needing the final four minutes of sleep, he turned off the alarm clock and sat up in bed. He was definitely awake now.
"Abby?" he need to hear himself say her name, hardly believing that he had just seen those images in his unconscious mind, hardly believing that he could dream of them together. He shook the thought from his head.
"Abby? Abigail! You're going to be late for school if you don't come down now!"
"I'm coming mother!" She rolled her eyes at her reflection.
Putting the finishing touches on her complicated hairstyle, she smiled wryly at herself and picked up her schoolbag. She walked from her room, down the stairs and to her waiting mother in the kitchen.
"Abby, you look very pretty today."
"Thanks, Mom," she replied dryly.
"Did you have a nice time with your friend last night? I saw you come in, what is the young man's name?"
Abby looked at her mother, her mouth hanging open. Should she lie? She was so used to lying about who she was with, if it was difficult not to. Except this time, there was no reason for her not to tell the truth. She'd returned home with Pacey.
"Pacey Witter," she whispered, "he's just a friend, Mom." She looked sheepishly at the coffee cup sitting in front of her, almost embarrassed.
"Oh... he must be one of Sheriff Witter's sons, that's nice... what an attractive boy he is, Abby. Nothing romantic in the future?"
"Mom!"
"Oh honey, there's nothing to be ashamed about if you like this boy." Ms. Morgan smiled soothingly at her daughter, putting her hand under Abby's chin. "Do you want me to drive me to school this morning?"
Abby's cheeks burned at her mother's suggestion that she had something for Pacey, and the unlikely idea that they could ever get together. "No thanks, I'm going to walk."
"Then you had better get a move on, you don't want another tardy sending you to Saturday detention." Her mother stood and walked her to the door, kissing her on the cheek as she left.
Pacey sped on his bike as he took the long way to school, he didn't want to pass the McPhee house this morning. The idea of having to deal with Andie, this soon after he'd broken off with her, made him shudder unpleasantly. As he turned the corner, he saw Abby walking near the curb.
He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he neared her, would she be able to tell that he had dreamt of her in his arms? Pacey, man, she can't read your mind. He slowed his bicycle down slightly, deciding whether he should walk with her. Whether she wanted him to.
Abby's heart leaped as she saw him turn the corner, approaching her. Her mind swam with questions. Why is he riding down my street? Does he want to walk with me? Could he possibly like me? She looked at him expectantly as he passed her, irrationally upset when he didn't stop. Why would he want to spend any time with you? You're just an obnoxious, overbearing bitch. She heard his tires screech ahead of her as he ground the bike to a halt.
His face was flushed and he bent over to catch his breath, looking up at her and smiling awkwardly.
"Hey..."
"Hi, Pacey."
Neither of them knew what to say in each other's presence, they had no idea what they were doing, but everything felt both right and strange.
In Pacey's mind, he felt torn in three directions; part of him knowing that he shouldn't care what anyone would think if he went with his gut reaction, part knowing that he should really give himself time to deal with Andie, and the nagging part--nudging him-- channeling his friends complaints. And they would certainly complain; but when he saw her smile at him, he could only think about touching her face, running his fingertips along her cheekbones.
Abby walked towards him, her eyes slightly confused. She was happy, no--that was an understatement, she was overjoyed that he had stopped for her, but she had reservations about whatever it was that was happening. She worried that she was taking his actions the wrong way, it seemed as if he could actually be interested in her, but lots of guys acted that way. They all wanted to get in her pants. They had had a bonding moment the night before, but he was on the rebound, more reason for her to think that he might just want to use her. Most guys were the same, and most guys sucked. One thing and one thing only on their minds.
As she approached him, he got off of his bike, walking beside her and turning to speak.
"Feeling any better today?"
"Same as usual, I guess. Nothing for you to worry about, I'm sure." Shit! Why did I just say that? He's trying to be nice.
"Oh... I see... the real Abby Morgan comes back to rear her ugly head, I shoulda known." He got back onto his bike and began to ride away from her. Getting a few yards of distance between them, he heard her call his name and stopped.
"I'm sorry, it's a defense mechanism. I guess I just need to start learning when I can turn it off... y'know?"
"Yeah, I think I know it well."
"So, how about you? Are you feeling better about the whole Andie thing?"
"Not really. I just don't even want to see her today... I feel, I don't know, sort of guilty about breaking up with her. I know that I shouldn't, there was no way around it. You're supposed to feel happy when you're around your significant other, right?"
Abby looked at her nails, anything to not meet his gaze. "I guess... yeah. At least that's what I've heard. Technically, you're supposed to feel good around them."
"She always made me feel like an asshole."
Stupid, stupid girl, she thought to herself.
"But I know that I hurt her pretty bad yesterday. I didn't mean to, but what was I supposed to do? Stay with her because she was happy? I just don't think so... but I still don't want to see her, it's going to be more drama than I think I want to deal with today."
Abby thought for a moment, afraid to open her mouth lest something acrid come flying forth. Pacey's face twisted as they neared the school.
"We could always cut."
"We?" He looked at her trying to read her face for some sort of sign of what she was trying to get out of him. It seemed unlikely that her motives were selfless, and even more unlikely that she wanted to spend any time with him.
"Yeah. We. What do I have going for me in there today? Another day fighting off the uninspiring advances of Chris Wolfe? Oh! Better yet, another exciting lecture from Mr. Peterson on my impending failure? Duh... I think our minds are made up. We ditch."
They stopped feet from the High School campus, staring at the imposing building. They could both see the student body frantically entering to start another day. Dawson Leery stood at the top of the stairs, his eyes scanning the crowd and finding Pacey's.
"Shit--I think Dawson just saw me," he mumbled, his lips hardly moving.
"So? Pretend that you haven't seen him and let's make a break for it."
"You think that'll work?"
"I don't know, but it's our best option."
"Alright. Which way?"
"Back towards my house, my mom will have left for work by now, we'll figure the rest out from there."
"Okay. Get on the bike."
Pacey put his knapsack on both shoulders, tightening the straps so it sat high on his back, and straddled the bicycle as Abby pushed herself onto the seat. He turned to her and smiled broadly.
"Hold on," they sped away in the opposite direction from Capeside High, not looking back. Abby's hands were on his hips, holding on for dear life, as she watched the houses fly by her, her hair whipping in the air. Her fingers tingled as she pushed her thumbs through his belt loops, her hands resting dangerously close to his backside.
Man, that is one exceptional ass, she thought to herself, watching as it moved up and down as his strong legs alternately pumped quickly on the pedals.
He wondered if she felt it too, the pummeling of attraction between them when her hands touched him. They pulled into her driveway and he slowed the bike to a stop, putting both feet to the ground. Her hands were still on him and he feared that if he turned around, she might see the look on his face and know what he was thinking.
"After you, m'lady," he said breathlessly without turning his head.
"Oh! Uh...," she stuttered, realizing that they were in front of her house, embarrassed to have been caught in a daydream. "Let's bring the bike around back, so no one can see it."
"Yeah, good idea." He followed behind her, his eyes traveling the length of her bare legs to her ankles, one covered only by a thin, silver chain. What the hell are you doing, Witter? She was so small and sexy, her short dress moving around the middle of her thighs as she walked in her high, clunky heeled shoes.
She turned to look at him over her shoulder, somewhat flirtatiously, and saw as his ears turned a dark crimson. Her lips turned up slightly.
"What?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh... nothing."
They entered her house through the back door and into the kitchen where she had sat less than an hour before with her mother, their coffee mugs still sitting on the table. Abby picked them up and brought them to the sink, motioning for Pacey to make himself comfortable. He looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt.
"You want something to drink, or something? I could make more coffee?"
"Never touch the stuff, you got a coke in there?" he said pointing to the refridgerator.
"Probably..." She stuck her head into the fridge, the icy air cooling her off considerably. She felt as if it was three hundred degrees in her house, but she knew that it had everything to do with being alone with him. She pulled out a soda and handed it to him, their fingers touching lightly when he reached for it. Their eyes met and they both looked away bashfully.
Pacey felt himself blush again. He laughed nervously and scratched at his temple.
"This is ridiculous. I feel like I'm in seventh grade, or something. Let's both try to relax and enjoy our self-imposed day off, okay?" It was more of a statement than a question, but he knew that he had to say something. The tension between them was getting out of hand, and he was never one to keep his feelings buried. That was one of the things that Andie disliked most about him, always telling him to stop being so impetuous, so impulsive--to stop doing or saying things without thinking first. He stopped himself mid-thought, not wanting to think about Andie right now, not while he was here with Abby. He flipped modes and turned on the Witter charm.
"So what shall we do, oh fine mistress? Shall we laze around your home watching television programmed for middle-aged housewives? Shall we gorge ourselves until sated, eating everything in your home? No, that would surely alert your mother to our crime. Or maybe, we should run naked through Capeside's well-appointed streets until my father picks us up for lewd and lascivious conduct? Any thoughts on the matter?"
Abby laughed, glad that the new tension between them had been acknowledged, even more relieved that she hadn't had to be the one to say it herself. She found herself a woman of fewer words when she didn't feel the need to be sarcastic. She laughed at his list of proposed activities, choosing the former for the time being. Feeling bold, she stood and took his hand, leading him into the T.V. room.
They sat on the love seat, sinking into its soft cushions. Her mother had made this the center of their home, they spent most of their time there. Abby kicked off her sandals and curled her legs on the couch, tucking her toes beneath Pacey's legs and going for the remote.
"Any suggestions?"
"Just flip, and I'll let you know when something captures my interest." Their smiles became wider and they settled into the couch.
"I'm sure that you will..."
They had gone from disastrously anxious to comfortably flirtatious in a matter of moments. She knew that she could flirt with the best of 'em when she had to, but no one had ever made her feel like it was really welcome, and usually, she hadn't wanted it to be.
Fact was, Abby was terrified of most men, which was why she always went for the ones that it would be near impoosible to achieve. Knowing that her work would go fruitlessly, gave her the confidence to attempt it. But Pacey was different, it seemed. Not so fruitless.
Still, her feelings were mixed. Partially scared shitless over the prospect of actually having to carry on any semblance of a relationship, and jostled by the possibility of his faking his affections towards her solely to get over his newly ex-girlfriend. The only thing that she was sure of, was that she liked the way that she felt right now, curled up on the couch with him, his fingers absently playing on the charms of her ankle bracelet.
"There! Leave this on--this is great!"
"Pacey, hockey? I absolutely refuse. What do I get out of that?"
"The pleasure of knowing that I am enraptured by the drama of the game." He fluttered his long, sexy eyelashes at her.
"Bzzzz... Not enough, try again," she giggled.
His hands slid over one bare foot and he squeezed his fingers gently.
"Foot massage?"
"Ahhhh... tell the gentleman what he's won!"
She stretched her legs across his lap and he went to it, his strong palms kneading at her feet and toes as he watched the game. His excitement mounted with each play, and so did hers.
Abby tossed her head back on the arm of the couch, ignoring the skaters whooshing around the television. She concentrated solely on the feeling of his hands on her heels and moving up the backs of her legs. She might have let out a small moan because he looked at her and smiled, as if he had gained some minute success.
"Good?"
"Great." he turned his attention back to the television, still rubbing her skin beneath his hands.
After a couple of hours had passed, they still found themselves on the couch, almost snuggling. It had been an insane couple of hours really, they would unconsciously move closer and closer to each other, find themselves there, and one or the other would pull away, but only slightly. They didn't want to step on each other's toes, overstep any boundaries. It was a battle though, their bodies against their minds.
Pacey reached out and touched her collarbone, his fingers hardly grazing her skin. She tensed beneath his touch and he pulled his hand away.
"I'm sorry, Abby. I... I... hmm."
"Don't be sorry, Pacey," she said embarrassed. "I was just caught off guard, you're much more honest to yourself than I am."
"What do you mean?"
"You allow yourself to do what you want to do when the feeling hits, you know? And I really respect that, really. I hold it in and convince myself that it's a bad idea," her voice dropped. "It probably is..."
"What do you want to do?" Pacey looked at her seriously, she felt her face growing hotter, knowing that she must be blushing something awful. No one had ever affected her this way, she feared that she would get too relaxed around him and it would lead to something that would eventually hurt her. His honesty seemed to have no price, but she was afraid hers would.
"Abby? Since we're talking about honesty here, do you mind if I get brutally so?"
She wasn't sure of the answer herself, but decided that since this day had already gone the way that it had, and since there hadn't really been any negative fallout, she nodded.
"This is strange, y'know? I know it is, but still, I'm really enjoying spending time with you. Last night, today--the past three hours, sitting here with you, I've felt really... good. I don't know where all of this is leading, but I just know that I like it." He weighed his words carefully. "I think that I've spent a lot of time misjudging you, and I apologize--"
She stopped him.
"Don't apologize, Pacey. I'm a real bitch, Iknow that. I've given you nothing to misjudge, I put myself out there to be taken exactly at face value, and on the face of that coin, I'm quite an unpleasant person to be around. But you are right about one thing..."
He looked at her, watching her full lips speak and moving closer to her. Every part of his body willed him to kiss her, but his entire mind told him to hold back. Their faces were a foot apart.
"What's that?" He brought his eyes up to meet hers.
"This is strange... but I... I feel... I feel good around you too."
Her eyes traced the path from his eyes to his lips and back to return his gaze.
"Pacey? Are you going to kiss me?"
"The thought had crossed my mind."
To Be Continued....