Saved
Chapter 4
Careless Thoughts
by: Jade


Disclaimer: Dawson's Creek is not my property.

Author's Note: Sorry I haven't been able to get any writing done in the last two weeks; I've been on vacation. Now, back to you.

"You've got a lunch appointment with Michael Cole at noon, " Carol reminded as she flipped the planner shut and before closing the door, added, "And Judy Daniels is on 3."

She picked up the call. "Yes, Judy."

"Joey, I've got a problem. You see, an old friend's in town but only for a couple of hours and we really haven't seen each other in a long time."

"Go on."

"I'd hate to cancel so I was hoping we could have the meeting where I'm going to be."

"No problem," she said, amused understanding evident in her voice. "What's the address?"

"It's in West Chelsea. 21st St. at Eleventh. A bar called D-"

"-Danny's."

"Yeah, you know the place?"

"Unfortunately." Joey sighed quietly. "Judy, we'll probably have to re-schedule."

After their last argument nearly two months ago, Joey realized that unlike in their teenage years, she no longer particularly enjoyed having disagreements with Pacey. It wasn't like they'd stopped their bouts of harmless sparring but there was little chance that she'd ever start a row with him if she could help it.

Their unwritten law would work both ways.

"Hey sweetheart."

Joey jumped, startled, and squirmed as she tried to get away from the sweaty arm that hugged her to an even sweatier body. "Do I know you?"

"Hopefully you will tonight." The man's words were slurred in his tipsy state.

Her eyes shifted warily. He looked to be in his early 40's, okay-looking, of medium build and had a slight paunch. Still, he conveyed that he wasn't a man to be trifled with, especially when he wasn't rational.

She automatically swiveled her head toward Pacey and Jen on the dance floor. They hadn't seen what had happened. She had to deal with the man on her own.

"What do you say, honey?"

She was tempted to kick him in the groin just to sober him up but she was working on avoiding trouble and reminded herself to grin and bear, sans the former.

"No, thank you," she said, spitting the words out.

"What?"

"You heard me." Being polite to a man like that left distaste in her mouth.

His face loomed in but he then pulled back when someone tugged at his shoulder.

"Yo Bruce, a little situation here that requires your opinion."

"Can't it wait!"

"No, not really," his friend replied even-toned, hardly deterred by his scowl.

"I'll be back," he slurred some more.

'Don't count on it," she muttered.

Her thoughts returned to where they were before she had been so rudely interrupted and recalled the day Pacey had turned up at her doorstep after his stint in Chicago.

She had been overjoyed when she looked into her peephole and saw him but told herself to hold back her smile.

He had frowned slightly when he noted her nonchalance.

"I thought we were on a truce," he said, closing the door and following her to the couch where she sat and tucked her feet under her after picking a magazine from the rack beside it. "Was I wrong?"

"I know I was at fault but I don't appreciate being kept in the dark about your promotion."

"Is that why," he said, removing his new wallet from his back pocket and waved it, "you bought me a gift from a brand that's frequently been known as an old lady's brand?"

She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning. "Hey! Tom Ford's revamped Gucci and I like their stuff."

He landed on the couch and smiled. "And thank you," he said sincerely. "Please, will you forgive me?"

Her tone turned serious. "Only if you forgive me."

He had hugged her to him and kissed her on the forehead. "It's a deal," he replied softly.

She had leant into his arms in relief...

That same night, they had called Jen and the three of them had celebrated his promotion at the same bar they were presently at. Danny's had become their hangout, that is if twenty-seven-year-olds still had hangout places. She was roused from her reverie when Jen and Pacey plopped back down at their table. She blinked, taking in the crowd around her that seemed to have grown within the last few minutes when she wasn't paying attention.

He grinned at her. "Wanna dance?"

"Sure."

"Just let me catch my breath first." He gulped the rest of his drink down.

"Slow down, buster," Jen advised.

"There, I'm ready." He took Joey's hand and led her to the floor as she threw her head back in laughter.

"I thought you hated dancing," she teased.

"I do!" He twirled her around. "But I've also recently found out that I've developed a sense of rhythm!" he yelled to be heard amidst the music. "Why waste the talent?"

She laughed some more and gave in to his lead.

They danced to two fast songs before a slow one came on. She expected him to want to return to their seats but he held out a hand.

"May I?"

She raised a brow in surprise and put her hand in his. He pulled her close to him and they swayed to the tune.

"I remember a time when we were terrible at this," she murmured.

"That was some time ago."

She closed her eyes and became an unwilling observer to a past that came back to her in a series of flashes. She saw them bickering about another unimportant issue; she saw the face that he always pulled when he was embarrassed about something and she would laugh smugly; she saw them stepping on each other's toes at a disastrous dance class; she saw him lending her a shoulder to cry on; she saw him kissing her and remembered the tingle she felt; she saw the day she was sitting in her room and made her decision-

He had felt her jolt. "Are you okay?" he asked, pulling back to look her in the face.

She hastily leaned back into his shoulder to avoid looking directly at him, afraid he would see it in her eyes. "I'm fine," she explained shakily.

If she had been facing him, she would have seen the same haunted look in his eyes.

They continued to move little steps to the music. The tear that fell from the corner of her eye caught her unawares and she took in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear her voice shake. She pushed herself away from him and said something about needing to go to the bathroom, all the while not looking at him.

Jen, who had been watching them, got up in concern but Pacey gestured at her to stay and he went after Joey instead.

She escaped into the ladies' room before he managed to catch up to her and decided to wait outside. About three minutes later, she exited and walked past him.

"Jo, what's wrong?" he said to her back.

She shook her head stubbornly. "Nothing."

"Joey!" He dodged several people in the way and got near enough to hold on to her wrist, willing her to turn around. But she moved ahead and he lost his loose grip. He was about to get close enough to her again when all of a sudden, a body came between them.

"Excuse me," he said.

"I think not," the stranger drawled.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," he explained. "Please step out of my way."

"I don't think so, buddy."

"I'm losing my patience."

The drunken man laughed in his face. "Do I look like I care?" He shoved a hand at Pacey's chest and pushed him backwards. "Now, I don't like to see the ladies being harassed, especially the pretty ones."

Pacey was getting rather pissed off. "How gallant of you but I know that lady."

"Yeah, sure."

Pacey threw his hands to the air in exasperation and wondered why on earth he was reasoning with a man who was so drunk, all he had to do was push him away with a fingertip and he would probably topple. He attempted to walk past him but the guy refused to budge. He kept his temper under control and tried again.

He didn't see the fist come at him until it was too late.

Pacey hit the ground with a loud thud but not before he had crashed into a stool that wrestled a groan out of him.

Joey heard the commotion at the door and looked back. She saw two heads bobbing in and out of her view and recognized one of them as being Pacey's.

"Shit," she cursed and quickly made her way through the crowd that had gathered within a safe perimeter to watch.

"Take it outside!" screamed the bartender.

She got to the front and saw that Pacey was outnumbered as the man who had hit on her before and his friend were taking turns to fight him.

She got mad. She ran up and tapped the friend on the shoulder. He turned around, an amused grin on his face that gradually disappeared as he felt the impact of her knee against his groin and the fist on the side of his face.

"Ouch," she said, feeling the pain in her knuckles. With him down, she went to help Pacey.

Pacey towered over the other man but the latter had a lot more pounds and muscles packed into him. Joey tried to intervene but they kept moving back and forth and there wasn't much she could do.

At one point, she didn't move out of their way fast enough and felt an elbow collide with her left eye. She fell back to the floor, stunned at first and then she felt the room swimming around her. She tried to keep herself from blacking out.

Jen, who had been slouched in her seat waiting for her friends to return, sipping her drink and ignoring the testosterone-based cheering that was becoming louder, began to realize how serious the fight was getting when two cops came through the door. She got curious and went to take a peek.

"Oh my God," she said when she caught a glimpse and ran forward to help Joey up as the policemen broke up the fight. She muttered the same words when she saw that Pacey was one of the two men.

Pacey had no time to take in what was happening around him before he was dragged away.

"Can't I leave you guys alone?" she sighed.

Joey moaned in discomfort in response.

She woke up the next morning, one arm flung out holding a now-warm cold compress with her limp hair in her face. She let out a few breaths, lifting strands of hair in the air and trying to blow them aside. She slid up against the headboard and gingerly touched the numb area around her eye. She sat dazed for a couple of minutes before scrabbling out of bed to her dresser.

"Boy, do I look like crap," she said to her reflection in the mirror.

She had fallen asleep in her clothes from last night, her hair was hanging lifelessly, her eye bags were more prominent than ever, emphasized by the smudged eyeliner and the rest of her make up that she was too exhausted to remove. To add insult to injury, the shiner she got had turned a weird shade of green and purple.

"Thank god it's the weekend." She undressed and left a trail of clothes into the bathroom, where she stayed in the shower for a good twenty minutes, letting the hot water soothe her nerves and aching bones as she washed the grime of last night's events off her.

Her eyes widened as she remembered telling Jen she'd be all right on her own and asking her to rush to the station to make sure Pacey was fine.

Five minutes later, dressed in clean clothes, feeling and looking a lot better, she picked up the phone and called his place but no one answered.

Maybe he was sleeping. She frowned distractedly as she carefully applied a combination of concealer and pressed powder to cover up her black eye. Moving back, she surveyed her work in the mirror. When she was fairly satisfied with the result, she went into the kitchen to make herself a well-deserved cup of strong coffee.

She turned on the local news on the TV and took it as a good sign that the fight last night was hardly important enough to warrant coverage and was probably one of hundreds in bars and clubs across the state. She finished her coffee and put her sunglasses on, ready to go look for him at his apartment when he appeared in her doorway.

"I was just about to come see you."

"Well here I am."

He closed the door behind him. They stood there looking at each other for a moment.

"What happened after they took you away?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Fortunately, it's not the first time Mr. Asshole's provoked a fight and even luckier, I'm not famous enough for anyone to find out about this. I sent Jen home and left after they took down my statement. The owner's warned us never to return to his bar though."

"Could you lose your job over this?"

"I doubt so. The only thing I'll have to explain on Monday when I get in is how I got this." He took off his own dark shades and revealed a bruise on his upper cheek and cuts above his eye.

She sighed and took off her own glasses.

"Don't worry, I won't lose my good looks," he joked, moving closer to her. "I'm-" he paused and leaned forward, reaching out to gently touch her injury.

"The makeup almost worked."

His frown deepened as she said, "It's your fault."

"I didn't start the fight." He was upset and feeling maligned. "He wouldn't listen to reason. You always blame me when-"

"Shut up, Pacey."

He did.

"I wasn't talking about the damn fight. You gave me the black eye."

His jaw dropped. "I did not!"

"Yeah you did. I was trying to help you and got in the way of your elbow."

He grimaced at the thought. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a half-smile. "I know you were provoked. That guy was hitting on me while you and Jen were dancing.

"This has got to stop."

"I know, I know," she interrupted. "I'm always getting you into fights, right?"

"Actually, I was going to say we've got to find a way to make you seem less attractive. "

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Pacey, save your pick up lines for the ideal woman. Don't waste them on me."

She turned to walk into the living room but he tugged on her arm to halt her. "What if you are?"

She wrinkled her brows. "Are what?"

"The ideal woman."

Her face fell. "Don't even joke about it," she spoke softly.

"Tell me why you left the dance floor so abruptly last night."

"I- I" she fumbled for an explanation. "I had something in my eye and I needed to wash it out."

He stared at her knowingly.

"What are you thinking?" she finally asked. It was a question women seemed to ask when they found themselves in close contact with a man.

"Unfinished business," he said. "You and me."

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