A/N: Well, here we are at last. Pacey has finally gotten a clue! LOL That's right, folks, we have reached the A Weekend In The Country epi. Yayee! This week's ficlet has two parts. Now, the astute of you will remember that we said at the beginning of the series that we were only going to write scenes based on what we knew from canon up to the current epi, and not take into account what we knew would happen later on. Well… for the first part in this ficlet, we've bent the rules and made an exception. The opportunity to write that scene was simply too irresistible to turn down. Hopefully you'll forgive us ;)

As usual, we'd like to thank everyone for reading and for their ongoing support to our story. Thanks, guys!

** Discovery **

"The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes."
- Marcel Proust, novelist (1871-1922)

I.

Pacey's legs bounced while he waited for the bell to signal the end of class; he was up and out of his seat the moment it rang. Throwing his backpack haphazardly over his shoulder, he jogged over to the door and leapt into the hallway. He took a moment to scan the rapidly growing crowd before he found what he was looking for. Homing in on the back of her blue sweater as she wormed her way through the other students, he called out her name.

"Joey!"

She didn't acknowledge him but continued to walk in the direction of her locker.

"Jo? Potter! Oh, Josephine! I know you can hear me. Wait up!"

Realizing that she wasn't going to stop, Pacey sighed and pushed his way through his fellow classmates to follow her. She was already at her locker by the time he caught up so he leaned against the vacant one beside it and waited. He watched as she crisply dialed her combination then replaced the books from her bag with the ones she needed from inside her locker.

He couldn't help smiling to himself when he recognized the blue sweater she wore. It was the one with small snowflakes that he knew she liked so much, but hardly wore. Shame. It looked cute on her. Shaking his head at that random thought, he focused back on the matter at hand.

Joey had been quiet all morning. And it bothered him.

He bit his bottom lip and opened with, "What's up?"

No response bar an eye roll from the sullen brunette.

He tilted his head slightly and tried to catch her eye. "Ignoring me, huh?"

Again, no reply.

"Is this still about the other day? Come on. I said I was sorry."

Nada.

"I came back, didn't I? You were only up there for what, like, an hour, tops."

Stone silence.

"Can I help it if I fell asleep in front of the TV?"

If there were crickets resident in the corridors of Capeside High they'd be chirping right about now.

"Okay. Next time we're in your attic, you can leave me up there, deal?"

Still no reaction. Not good.

It bugged him that Joey was mad at him. Well, in reality, Joey was always mad at him for some reason or another. That was nothing new. That he could deal with. It was part of their dynamic after all, the back and forth. What was unsettling him right now was the lack of volley back from her. He didn't like it one bit when she went all silent on him like she was now.

While it had never worried him in the past, for some reason it did now. A lot. And he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Is it a woman thing then? You got cramps or something?" He studied her closely, daring her with his words and stare to take the bite.

She almost did. Her hand froze and she opened her mouth to retort but didn't get further than an irritated sigh, using the excess air to blow her hair from her eyes, before shoving another book in her bag. But he didn't miss that her cheeks started to burn.

"Have you tried Tylenol? It's supposed to help with that."

Cheeks bright red now.

She slammed her locker shut and began walking briskly to her next class.

"Joooeeey," he sing-songed, springing into step beside her. "Tell me what's wrong..."

When she still said nothing, he resorted to the old 'actions-speak-louder-than-words' trick and reached up with his hand to flick her ear.

Success!

"Pacey!" Joey slapped his hand away, finally breaking the silent treatment. "Knock it off, would you!"

"Aha! See! I knew you couldn't ignore me forever. So, how about it, you gonna-"

"Pacey, go away. I'm not in the mood."

"It's the hormones talkin', isn't it? Don't worry, I get it. I have three sisters, remember? Well, four if you count Doug-"

Gauging from her face that he was losing her and, not wanting to risk that she'd clam up again, he quickly changed topics. His hands were in constant motion as he spoke. "Okay, fine. So, it's not cramps; you must still be mad at me then about being trapped in the attic. Am I right? Like I said, I'm sorry. Just say three little words, Jo, and I'll be out of your hair. It's easy. Here, I'll even help you out. Say, 'I forgive you, Pacey.'" He paused to mentally count the number of words he'd just said. "OK, so technically that's four words, but you don't need to-"

Having had enough of Pacey's babbling, Joey stopped short and spun around to face him fully, shouting, "Look, Pacey, I just found my mother's bracelet this morning, so why don't you cut me some slack?!"

Pacey's eyes instantly dropped to her wrist where he could just make out a delicate bracelet tucked underneath the sleeve of her sweater. Instinctively, his hand reached out and brushed the material away so he could take a better look at the elegant detail.

"Your Mom's, huh?" His voice had a husky quality, completely inappropriate for a bustling school hallway but somehow Joey still heard him.

With her free hand she tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah," she confirmed her voice just as quiet. "I… I didn't mean to snap before. It's just... you know how I get when... well, you know."

They stood like that for a moment, his hand resting upon her wrist, until he slowly pulled her sleeve to put it back in place. Eyes now scanning her face, he gave her an understanding smile – one which she returned.

That's why she'd been in a weird mood. She'd been thinking about her mom, not upset at him. "S'Kay. I thought you were still mad about the other day is all."

"What? No." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I got over that as soon as I'd relieved my bladder."

"Oh. Well, um, good."

"Actually, I should thank you."

That confused him. "Thank me?"

"Yeah. If you hadn't left me up there for so long, I wouldn't have found the box with my Mom's ornaments. It was buried in another box that I brought downstairs. I didn't even see the jewelry box 'til I unpacked everything this morning."

"Well, I guess, you're welcome?"

She laughed, her face finally lighting up with a lop-sided smile. "I guess."

"Ah, she smiles." He said as though to himself. After a pause, he clapped his hands and rubbed them together, at a loss as to what else to do. "So we're good?"

She nodded. "Good."

"Great."

"Great."

A huge smile erupted across his face. "Well, alright then."

The bell for the next class rang shrilly, stopping further conversation. Conscious of his less than stellar record for punctuality in Mrs. Osterday's art class, he stepped into action and began walking backwards down the hall, causing other students to scatter out of his way.

"Still on for practicing my lines after school?"

"Sure."

"Meet you at the usual place?"

"Uh-huh, I'll be there." She agreed easily, adding as an afterthought, "Don't forget your script this time!"

"Roger that." He spun around and had only taken a few steps when he whipped back to face her again. "Hey, Potter!"

Having already started to continue to walk to her own class, she turned to look over her shoulder and gave him a curious look. "Yeah?"

"The bracelet. I like it." He smiled, saying sincerely, "It suits you."

With that, he broke out into a flat run toward the art department, his steps lighter than they had been all day.

**

II.

Leaving the Potter family - including the itinerant Bodie - to bask in the successful charming of Fred Fricke, I slip out of the B&B and head to Molly's Market to restock. I'm happy for some time to myself; it will give me a chance to see if I can find Henry Carr. He's the best furnace guy in Capeside, and he's honest, too. When I first approached him about the furnace a few weeks back, he'd looked at me knowingly when we… well I… decided to refurbish the existing furnace instead of installing a new one. Bessie and Joey still can't afford a new one but hopefully Henry will work his magic and make this one last until next winter when they can.

It's a good thing BessieMac let me borrow their truck because it's just a little too cold to be tooling around on my bike; besides should they need one, Bodie's car is there. Hunched over the steering wheel, waiting for the heater to warm up, I wind my way through the quiet streets. The overcast sky and chill air coming in off the cape are keeping most folks sensibly snug in their homesteads today.

Radio broken, I'm left to my own thoughts as entertainment. It's the first time all weekend that I've had a quiet moment and I find myself replaying moments from the last couple of days, starting with Joey's startling revelation that Bessie is thinking of mortgaging the house. My short stint at playing house with Andie during that class assignment last year is the only experience I've had with the "real" world of home buying, family planning and household budgets - but even I know that if you don't pay your mortgage, you get evicted and lose your house.

My hands clench the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. No matter what, I'm determined that's not gonna happen to the Potters. Mrs. Potter left them this house and it's not going to be taken from them, not if I can help it.

My attention monetarily distracted by a passing car, it's only then that I notice just how hard I'm holding the wheel. I immediately ease up, flexing my hands as the blood rushes back. Startled by my strong physical reaction, I know I can no longer ignore the question that has been banging around the inside of my head ever since Mitch asked it.

Why do I care so much?

Somewhere along the line, making sure the B&B is successful and supports my two favorite sisters has gone from a mild interest to monumental importance. Since when did they become my responsibility?

Dragging my hand through my hair, I sigh tiredly. For it seems the answers remain just outside my grasp.

I shake my head when my thoughts turn to the second big revelation of the weekend. That the B&B was Lillian Potter's dream just about did me in last night. The pieces of the puzzle that are Josephine Potter immediately fell into place, the force in which they did made me catch my breath as we all listened to her story about her mom. The day she came to the boatyard and first brought up the idea of running a B&B, she didn't say anything about her mom. Not one word. Why? Why didn't she tell me? She should have. What if this had been a huge disaster? How would I have known the significance of this venture? No wonder she's been so stressed out recently. There is so much riding on its success. I can't let her down.

I blink when the lights of Capeside's retail district, such as it is, come into view. Pulling over into one of the many vacant spots in front of Molly's, I kill the engine and make my way inside. The clacking of the cart along the polished tile floor sounds particularly noisy in the quiet store. I lean on the cart's handle while I push it along and consult the list Bessie shoved at me before I left. I smile. Looks like now that Bodie's home the menu is getting kicked up a notch - at least for a few days. Excellent!

Mission accomplished at the market, I drop the groceries in the back of the truck and start off on foot to look for Henry. I find him at the Ale House where I've seen plenty of Sam Adams but no ale. He's happy to help out and promises to come by tomorrow so I leave him to his beer and his buddies and head back to the B&B.

By now the streets are shrouded in darkness. Clouds chase the sky, skittering across the full moon; considering the comedy of errors that was this weekend, I should have guessed.

The truck could probably make its way home on autopilot and my mind wanders again. It occurs to me - not for the first time - that Dawson is a douchebag. Even his compliments are couched in condescension. Something about his gratitude rubs me the wrong way. As if I would only be there for Joey because he asked me to! Who does he think has been there for her these past months? And even though I glibly offered a return to our regularly scheduled programming, I've gotten used to that Potter girl. I'm not sure I want things to go back to the way they were last year between us. We can be friends with or without Dawson's interference or permission.

Sliding out of the truck, I catch drift of Alexander's giggles from the direction of the dock. Squinting, I make out brightly-colored human bundles over there watching the stars. None of the bundles are a Joey shape so I head to the house to find her.

There is only flickering light from the front room as I push open the door. Anxious to tell her the news about the furnace, I holler Joey's name. Getting no answer I poke my head in the next room, which is dark and empty.

It isn't until I turn around that I catch sight of her curled up on the couch. It's obvious she's exhausted and has succumbed to the heat from the fireplace - still it's kinda cute that she's fallen asleep in what used to be her old bed. This thought in mind, my lips lift on their own accord at the innocent sight and even though I'm still cold from the outside, warmth spreads throughout my body.

Her perfect features glow in the firelight; thick lashes lay on her cheek. I can't take my eyes off her as I make my way over to the couch. All I see is her; the rest of the room seems to fade away.

And, just like that, I know.

A virtual bevy of butterflies takes flight in my gut, their movement almost dance-like in their happiness to be finally free. The only sound I hear as I move toward her is my pounding heart. I don't think I even realize my hand is trembling as I slowly crouch next to her and gently pull the blanket up over her slender form.

I shift back slightly and take a moment to look at her up close. Then, as I get to my feet, I drop my head in surrender - because I know there's no stopping it now. The floodgate has opened. Every fiber of my being is alive with new feelings.

And what I feel is pure awe.

A wave of utter tenderness for this girl - this beautiful, opinionated, intelligent, loyal, annoying, passionate, stubborn, brave, complicated girl - washes over me.

So damn beautiful…

So smart…

So strong…

I can hardly breathe at the sudden comprehension of why the hell I care so much. It's so obvious now.

So beautiful…

I sink into the rocker across from her, stunned. In an effort to steady myself, I prop my chin on my hand. It's useless though as coherent thought eludes me. I watch her slumber, my head a jumble of memories.

…leaning against my shoulder as her tears saturate my shirt… a snail hunt… a partner in crime… eluding receptionists and security guards… a red blanket and rearview mirror… cutting school together… a carnival… building the True Love… pulling her from a burning building… believing I didn't steal that test… commiserating as targets of gossip… feeling her in my arms as we danced… the heat of her eyes when she glares at mine… the rush of bantering with her… the tip of her tongue peeking when she smiles that smile…

So damn beautiful…

All those twinges, the stomach upsets, the unsettled feelings; they all make sense now.

How could I have been so blind?

As I remain frozen in place, the gradual decrease in light within the room as the fire steadily burns lower is the only indicator that time has not stood still. My heart is full of Joey Potter, but it's not long before the inevitable happens and my brain starts to assert its usual wariness.

What am I going to do now? What does this mean?

My last attempt to kiss Miss Josephine, post-biology project, ended in rejection. Then, of course, as he is quick to remind me, I'm only holding Dawson's place for him. Throw college guy into the mix and I'm pretty sure I'm not even on Joey's romantic radar.

I take a deep, calming breath and fill my nostrils with the fragrant scent of hickory as it burns on the hearth. Lulled by her rhythmic breathing and the crackling of the fire, I slide lower in the rocker, determined to push those uneasy thoughts away for now.

Because tonight, I simply want to sit here and watch her to my heart's content. If tonight is all I'll ever have, then I'm taking it. Tonight is mine, and mine alone, to watch over her while she sleeps. I don't want anything to ruin that.

"You know you love someone when you can spend the entire night
just sitting by the fire, watching them sleep…"

Oh, Grams. How right you are.

*~*

"Pacey?" Joey's sleepy, confused voice rasps as her eyes flutter open.

I clear my throat and answer her, my own voice gravelly from disuse. "Hey, Jo."

She rubs her eyes and yawns. "What are you doing?"

I flick a glance at the clock on the mantle. It's almost 3 a.m. "Nothing," I assure her quietly and sit up straight. "Um, why don't you go to bed? It's late. I need to bring the groceries in."

She nods at me as if that makes all the sense in the world and sits up, her eyes battling to stay open. I take in her pink cheeks and tousled halo of shining hair and it's all I can do to restrain myself from picking her up and carrying her safely to her room. In the dead of the night, in the face of a sleep-soft Joey, it seems I lack self-control.

Fortunately for me, she gathers the blanket around herself and gets up. I stand up with her and, as she passes me by, she unwraps herself and hands the blanket over. "Here, you'll need this more than me."

A gesture so natural it's instinctive I almost miss noticing it - she squeezes my hand. Then she pads toward her bedroom, bidding me a sleepy good-night on her way.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding as I watch her walk away from me, thankful she's too drowsy to ask coherent questions. It's obvious that Bessie isn't throwing me out since she'd already have done so by now, and it's too cold to ride my bike home. In this temperature, the groceries will keep fine in the car until morning.

Breakfast with the Potters again? I could do that. Because proximity is a good thing.

Fatigue overrides any further thought this evening. I shrug off my coat and roll onto the couch. I stretch out leisurely in the warm space Joey vacated and tuck the blanket around me. I breathe in her lingering scent and drift off to sleep hoping to chase my dreams – oblivious to the smile still resident on my face.

*~*