Hi all,

Thanks again for reviews and favourites and follows. Between wrapping presents, the store, buying wine, I'm still trying to get the final part written and you're all providing good motivation.

So this part is definitely rated M for sexual content - you have been warned. This story relies a little on Joey being her oblivious self to a degree, but also a slightly older more confident Joey than on the show.

Please review!

Tab :-)

Chapter 4

It took Pacey a couple of long days at work before he realised that the look she'd given him, her response to the casual and barely there touch at the back of her neck, may have meant something. It meant she was aware of him, that he affected her. He was a weak man when it came to Joey Potter because once the realization arrived, he immediately wanted to do it again and again and again. In the run up to the Christmas party it became an obsession.

First he began to stare at her a little longer than necessary, thrilled by the blush he found oddly erotic. He began to stand and sit a little closer, observing the way she would flush, or she would stammer over her words, her breath catching. Occasionally he'd brush against her, bitter sweet torture for him, though gratifying in the charge it sent into the air around them.

'Morning Jo,' he padded into the kitchen and poured himself a coffee.

'You ready to shop?' she grinned at him broadly, apparently dressed and ready.

'Coffee first,' he mumbled but reached across and tweaked her adorable nose.

'Pacey,' she chided with a faint stain of red on her cheeks.

'You're a Christmas nut aren't you? I can tell we're going to be drinking wine hot with all those spices in it, eating mince pies and singing Good King Wenslas by this evening.'

'Well if you insist,' she smirked. 'I bet you have a lovely singing voice.'

'Actually it's not bad,' he grinned and grabbed a bowl for cereal.

'You need to hurry up,' she complained.

'Because they're going to sell out of tree's?' He arched a brow and she scowled.

'Sometimes I loathe you.'

Several hours later they had returned home, lugging in a large tree between them before returning to the car for the ornaments, the lights, the tinsel, the holly and the mistletoe. Pacey couldn't really recall a time in his life when christmas had been so enjoyable. Truth be told it would have been when Sophie was alive but he had blocked those memories from everyday thought, the absence of the little girl too making them unbearable. Before Sophie and since he hadn't bothered much with Christmas, but with Joey and her infectious enthusiasm by his side he'd had a thoroughly fun and festive day filled with hot chocolates and tree hunting, a skate on the outdoor rink and foraging for the perfect holly and mistletoe. The day had been easy - chatting, teasing and flirting. Well he was flirting, but there was something in the way she looked at him that he convinced himself wasn't there when she looked at Dawson. They'd bickered over the tree - he wanted a small underdog, she wanted the large showy one. She won of course, though he bought the shrimp for the dining room. She'd suggested a themed tree of red and green, a suggestion he'd kiboshed claiming a tree of eclectic decorations, a cacophony of different colours, was the way a tree was truly decorated with the spirit of Christmas. She'd caved like a soufflé removed from the oven too early. Her eyes softening and she'd began a shopping spree of epic and eclectic proportions, surprising him when she insisted that she buy the decorations as he'd yet to accept any money towards a rent for her.

Once they were home he'd set up the tree and even his damaged heart stirred at the sight of the tree in the corner beside the roaring fire. Joey stirred mulled wine on the stove as he strung the new lights around the beast and then they sat on the couch side by side, sipping at their drinks and contemplating the task ahead.

'So how come you love this holiday stuff so much?' he asked and she rested a little closer to him, her body alongside his.

'It's just fun. I love the fun of it. I'm not really religious so maybe it's hypocritical to do the Christmas thing but I do feel like, maybe thanks to the media, it is a cultural celebration that brightens the long dark months. I mean, I don't like the commercialism, but what we did today? That I loved.'

'Me too. The two Christmas's with Sophie were amazing. She was far too young to understand any of it but Gretchen and I had a field day decorating and baking. Well I did the baking and she did the decorating but the overall effect was, you know, like they make it seem on TV.'

'Do you see Gretchen much anymore?' Joey asked and he didn't mind the question. The truth was he didn't.

'After Sophie died, the whole time I was in the hospital, well Gretchen was grieving. She moved to Boston from Capeside, let our place go. I don't think she was angry at me but she was angry. She did visit once, before she left, asking me for details. The police had told her what happened, what all the witnesses said had happened but she wanted to hear it from me. She said the important words, that she didn't blame me, but I think I'm just too closely linked to her memories of her daughter and obviously to her death. We speak on the phone and we meet up every few months for dinner, but they're pretty silent occasions...you know...'

'I do know,' Joey said simply and nodded, her head dipping to the side to rest on his shoulder. 'When I was a kid people were always telling me that time heals and I hated them. I'd watched my mom die a horrible death from cancer and I couldn't see how time would heal that pain.'

'And now? Twelve years later, has time healed it at all? Because I long for a day when I don't wake up and think of her and have my guts twist with the realization that she's gone.'

'When they say time heals, I think what they really mean is time tarnishes the clarity of your memories and with that tarnish comes a kind of peace. You don't miss them in the everyday sense anymore, because they aren't part of the everyday, but I don't think it heals. It just enables us to cope better, because we have distance.'

'You're pretty smart,' he whispered and turning his head pressed his lips to her hair, unable to move away once he'd done it.

'You're pretty smart yourself,' she said and her hand brushed at his cheek in a half caress. Pacey swallowed a groan,

'So this tree isn't going to decorate itself and we both need more wine,' he gave her a quick squeeze and pushed to his feet, grinning to try and lighten the mood and the sudden tension in the room that was attempting to propel him into Joey.

'And we need to play some cheesy holiday music,' she gave him a look and he laughed,

'Barenaked ladies holiday album coming up,' he stated and grabbed his ipad, until music was playing from the speakers around the room.

'This feels like Christmas,' Joey gave him a soft look and he smiled back, handing her more wine and a cookie.

'It does,' he pulled the bags in front of them and they undid tubes of baubles, pulled out individual decorations, the tinsel until the entire coffee table was piled with decorations. 'And go,' Pacey gave her a wink.

The tree was decorated, the holly and mistletoe distributed around the house and Pacey was decidedly drunk. He was pretty certain that Joey wasn't faring any better than he as they both giggled over the stories they were telling with much greater enthusiasm than normal.

'I need more cookies,' Joey stated and Pacey grinned,

'Actually you need dinner.'

'Then make me dinner,' she ordered and he gave her a look, 'please...' she fluttered her lashes and oh the effect.

'I'll admit I'm a little drunk so I'll be making...reheated Sophie's leftovers,' he said in a grandiose manner, 'and only if you sit at the breakfast bar and talk to me.'

'Of course,' she murmured but leaned against the gap that led from the dining room to the kitchen and watched him pull the food from the fridge and switch the oven on, her eyes half lidded.

'What?' he asked without turning.

'What do you mean, what?' she asked and he could imagine her shrug.

'You're staring at me,' he stated, hating himself for the possibilities that very act promised.

'I am,' she said and he turned to look at her, all tall and willowy and beautiful, her hair in a sloppy ponytail, her hands wrapped around her wine. His whole body seemed to crave proximity, to be next to her. She was still staring and without conscious thought he took a step toward her. When he noticed where she was standing his heart began to hammer wildly and his traitorous body reacted with his blood rushing around his body with desire filled longing. It was a now or never moment.

'Why?' he asked, his voice low and husky.

'You're nice to look at,' she admitted, clearly drunk to be saying such things.

'Right back at you,' he concurred and took another step in her direction and another until he was right in front her her. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat, her eyes wide, as she stared at him.

'What are you doing?' her voice was soft, a whisper of knowledge in it. He didn't answer but looked up at the bundle of mistletoe he'd hung there not an hour earlier. She followed his gaze and swallowed before lowering her eyes back to his. He didn't waste any time but pressed his lips softly to the corner of her mouth, unable to pull back immediately because he just didn't want to. It was an entirely appropriate kiss, but also completely inappropriate when he pressed another kiss to that corner of her mouth, hovering in proximity. It took all his strength but he forced himself to take a step back. Her eyes were shut, her posture totally lax and she looked young - young and innocent. Her eyes fell open and she looked at him, their eyes locked on one another.

'Dinner then,' he said awkwardly as she stared at him, that stunned expression all over her face.

'Pacey,' she whispered and he took a step back towards her.

'Yeah?'

'You... you kissed me...' she swiped at an errant hair tucking it behind her ear. He coughed,

'The...uh... mistletoe,' he stood in front of her.

'That was...' she hesitated a small frown marring her features.

'I'm sorry,' he offered.

'No...' she shook her head, 'I mean... that was...um... nice.'

'Nice?' he arched an eyebrow, unsure whether nice was the glowing adjective he wanted. Her fiery blush assured him that it was,

'I...um...I felt...you know...it,' she turned even redder and downed the rest of her wine. 'Again I'm over sharing, I'm sorry. I'm feeling kinda drunk.'

'It?' his voice echoed in the room as he ignored her apology. She looked down breaking the eye contact.

'I don't know why...I mean I do love Dawson, I think I do. I mean he's very kind, but when I'm near you I feel... you make me feel things. I feel alive I guess. Like my body just feels like...like...I think it's supposed too,' she looked back up and coughed uncomfortably, moving across to deposit her wine glass on the breakfast bar.

'Ok,' Pacey nodded unsure what to say or do.

'I don't know why but my body just seems to crave you...I feel all crazy inside when you're close to me...and I know this is all wrong. Maybe Dawson thinks we're together, but I don't even know if I do. I just don't know. And we're roommates and more than that we're best friends, but I just...crave you,' her words slurred a little as she turned back to face him where he was still frozen in the kitchen. 'Am I wrong...I feel like maybe...maybe...you feel it too?'

'You're asking...' he broke off and coughed nervously, 'you're asking if I'm attracted to you?'

'Yes,' she nodded seemingly relieved that he understood what she was getting at.

'Then yes, I'm crazy attracted to you,' he decided to meet her honesty with honesty of his own spurned on by the loosening effect of the wine. 'Uncontrollably so.'

In the following silence Joey stood and got more wine before drinking it far too quickly.

'Maybe...' she began and trailed off biting her lower lip.

'Maybe?' he prompted.

'You could teach me...' she hesitated again and he frowned.

'Teach you?'

'I don't know maybe that's the wrong word, maybe this is a wrong idea, but I just thought that if I could feel it...with you, maybe I could...feel it in general... I need help. He said to get help.'

'I'm pretty sure he didn't mean from me.'

'But you could help me... you know...'

'You want me to make you come?' he asked bluntly, shocked, disappointed and yet still turned on.

'Pacey,' she protested his blunt language flushing wildly, her movements jerky and flustered as she picked up her cup and got more wine.

'Shouldn't that be Dawson's job?' he couldn't help a little bitterness.

'But he can't do it...I don't imagine he even wants to any more. It's been two months since he left...' she looked down, 'and what if it's me? What if I can't. Maybe without the pressure...of you know an expectant partner...maybe someone who knows what he's doing...'

'Isn't something like that going to blur all kinds of lines? Is it cheating?'

'No... It's not, it isn't...well I don't think it is. I feel like Dawson has made his feelings clear. He doesn't return my calls. That hurts. And if by some miracle he wants me and I still want him - won't he appreciate it if I can become normal?'

'Jo, you are normal,' he softened.

'I'm not. I'm really not, but when I'm with you, I feel like I could be...'

'Jo...I am experienced, and we're best friends... if we kiss... do other stuff, lines will inevitably blur...'

'They won't Pacey. I won't let them,' she sounded so determined and he gave a wry chuckle wondering how she could be so oblivious to his love. Then again maybe she'd mistaken the signs of love as evidence of desire. Both were true after all. Maybe she mistook love as friendship, again, both were true. He didn't think she would be so cavalier with his heart if she truly recognized the truth.

'Can I think about it?' he asked and she nodded.

'Of course.'

There had been an awkward tension in the house for several days. Easy camaraderie had given way to a palpable tension of longing looks and uncomfortable conversation. As Pacey trudged home through an slushy snow storm that was sure to ensure Joey hours of work at the hospital, he almost wished he'd never kissed her, that he'd resisted the lure of the opportunity the mistletoe presented. However, the idea that he might get to touch her was evocative and an addictive daydream. Tied closely to the dream was the nightmarish reality that she thought she could be intimate with him and then just go back to Dawson, that she wouldn't feel anything for him.

He was the proverbial drowned rat as he pushed through his front door. Hanging up his sopping coat, kicking off his wet shoes, he appreciated that Joey had put the plastic out to protect the floor from the wet. He looked down at himself, at the way his shirt clung to his body with the icy rainwater and sniffed somewhat miserably. He missed his friend. He hated the awkward atmosphere. Hated it. Trudging up stairs in wet socks he headed straight for the bathroom. Pushing open the door he was met with a cloud of steam.

'Hey Jo,' he stated in a relaxed voice that belied his true emotions.

'Pacey you cretin I'm in the shower,' he could hear the panic in her voice.

'Cretin? Really Jo, cretin?' he played at jovial.

'Oh I'm sorry if my insult of choice offends you - actually I'm not, it was supposed to.'

'Oh I'm not offended, more amused. I don't think over ever been called a cretin...hmmm...' he pretended to think, 'umm no definitely not.'

'Why are you still in here?' she snarked.

'I'm wet. I'll damage the wooden floors anywhere else. I need to take my clothes off.'

'You cannot take your clothes off. I'm in here,' she was definitely panicking.

'Naked,' he pointed out easily.

'Pacey,' she yelped.

'You want me to kiss you, to touch you and yet you are protesting my being naked in the same room as you when we can't even see each other?'

He was met with silence. Total silence. Laughing somewhat bitterly to himself he began to tug his clothes off throwing them into the hamper.

'Pace,' her voice sounded clearer and he looked up to see her staring at his naked body with wide eyes, eyes that dropped down to his cock where all blood was currently headed. He knew somewhere in his brain where rational thought were still possible, that he had to stay calm, feign nonchalance.

'Joey,' he stated back, her eyes still lower than they should be. Her cheeks flushed adorably and she looked up at his eyes, then they dropped away and scanned his chest, her top teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, her eyes practically black. When she finally looked back up he arched his brows at her.

'I do want you to touch me,' she told him breathlessly. He could feel it too, the charged particles whipping between them, urging him to grab at her naked body, to touch it, lick it, fill it. He took a deep breath.

'You done?' he nodded at the shower and she bobbed her head. 'I need a shower - I smell like a ten hour shift at the restaurant. Go lie on my bed and I'll be there in five.'

She stared at him and then nodded. Reaching for her towel off of the hook she wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the tub, ending up next to him. Oh but fuck was she hard to resist. His hand reached out and curled into the nape of her neck his finger rubbing back and forth. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him apparently waiting for him to make the first move. Well he wasn't going to, not when he needed a shower. Moving past her he climbed into the tub and hidden by the shower curtain his hand moved to his throbbing cock.