A/N: Are you thinking what we're thinking? For an episode entitled Show Me Love, there sure as heck wasn't a lot of it going around LOL We could have done with actually being shown some love. This collection of missing scenes is our way of working through the fine mess that they've created for themselves. Thank you so much for the best wishes and support – you guys are simply the best!
**Shortcuts**
by M&M Works
Pacey rocked on his heels, nervous energy pulsing through his veins, while he waited on the stone steps outside Capeside High. His head moved rapidly back and forth, scanning the river of students pouring out the double doors and into the yard.
Spring fever ran rampant and spirits were high as the teens prepared to take advantage of the warmer weather and extended daylight. Pacey's mood fell somewhere south of the median line of the general population, though, as he chewed thoughtfully on his cheek waiting to see if he could catch Dawson.
Spying his sandy-haired friend straggling toward the end of the crowd, he called, "Dawson!"
Eyes on the steps below as he began his descent, Dawson's head jerked up at the sound of his name and, finding its source, continued to move forward as if he had not heard.
Pacey dropped his head briefly at the snub even though he'd expected no less, his lips lifting with humorless mirth. Then he sighed deeply and jogged after him. Slapping the shoulders of his fellow students in apology as he pushed his way through the mob, he shouted, "Hey, man! Wait!"
A few strides brought him next to the other boy. When Dawson didn't stop but kept on walking, Pacey tried again, "D, can we talk? Please? Just for a minute. That's all I ask."
Dawson abruptly stopped in the yard and turned to face the taller boy. Shaking his head, he sneered, "It's no surprise your grades suck. It seems you're too stupid to get that I don't want to talk to you! Not when you came to my house Wednesday. Not when you showed up at the restaurant yesterday. So why would now be any different, huh?! How much more clearly can I spell it out for you, Pacey? Leave me alone."
"Just listen to me for one minute, will you? Sixty seconds. For God's sake, man! Don't you think you owe our friendship that much after all these years?"
"HA! I owe our friendship something? What friendship? The one you betrayed?" Dawson threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. What the hell exactly is it that you want, Pacey?"
Surprised that Dawson was finally willing to listen, even if his body language gave the impression of anything but, Pacey had to take the chance to explain. "I just wanted to tell you that I realize it was a mistake…," he started only to have Dawson interrupt.
"You're damn right you made a mistake! An unforgiveable one. But you know what? I made a mistake, too." He paused to take a breath and shot Pacey a meaningful look. "I trusted you with the one person I treasured most. So shame on me."
The hope Pacey had felt when Dawson acknowledged and admitted he'd made a mistake, too, dissolved - anger and frustration taking its place. He shot back, "Dawson, if you treasured Joey then-"
"Don't you say her name! Don't you dare talk about her! You know what? I have nothing to say to you, and I sure as hell don't want to hear anything you have to say to me!"
With that, he stalked off, leaving Pacey to stare after him, his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling with jerky movements as he breathed deeply through his nose.
Well, fuck.
That went well.
He was never going to get Joey back, not unless he got Dawson on board with the idea. Because she was determined that no one get hurt.
No one but him, apparently.
Almost two weeks now. That's how long it had been from the night when they'd taken the True Love for her maiden sail. And she hadn't said a word to him since. He'd almost given up eating lunch in the cafeteria, the crack in his heart growing ever wider each time she looked his way only to immediately pretend she hadn't seen him and scurry away.
Yet proximity is as addictive as a drug and he couldn't go without.
He released a bitter laugh and dragged his hand through his hair. He was beginning to wonder why the hell he was trying so damn hard to resolve things and make everything right when he wasn't even sure Joey wanted him in her life anymore. Maybe not even as a friend, for her current absence in his life spoke volumes.
But he had to try to fix things; he couldn't just sit on the sidelines and do nothing.
Of course, his motives weren't entirely selfless. Some things had changed to the point that there was no going back.
He couldn't just be her friend. He couldn't – didn't want to – go back to the way things were before he'd kissed her. Not anymore. He couldn't watch her cave to Dawson's ridiculous demands; climb out of his arms and up that damned ladder.
It was too painful.
If he could only make his best friend understand that what he and Joey had between them wasn't about him at all, but was something that had just happened; reassure Dawson that he had a role to play in their lives, that they still wanted him as a friend and that wouldn't change. All they needed to do was take a step back and talk it through, calmly, man to man. Once Dawson understood where he was coming from, surely he'd release Joey from his ultimatum? And perhaps then he and Joey could go back to exploring their budding relationship.
If only he had tried harder to tell Dawson when he first realized he was falling for Joey, made him listen that night they went camping.
Hindsight, as they say, was perfect.
Watching Dawson disappear into the distance, he wondered just what the chances were of any of that happening. Right now, it seemed to be somewhere between slim and none.
But, like he said, he had to try. Even if waiting for everything to be resolved was slowly killing him, for sadly there are no shortcuts when rebuilding trust.
Suddenly feeling drained, the earlier adrenaline rush having faded away, he sighed tiredly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good night's sleep. Hearing the town hall bell chiming the hour in the distance, Pacey scrubbed his hand across his face and shook himself into action, heading in the direction of Leery' Fish Fresh. He was due to meet with Gale shortly to finalize the details of his sponsorship of the restaurant in the upcoming Regatta.
If he couldn't talk to Dawson, at least Gale was still willing to give him a chance to put things right. Perhaps if Dawson saw that Pacey was still there for him, and his family, that things didn't have to change, then maybe he'd be willing to talk.
One thing was certain.
If Dawson wanted Pacey to bow out and walk away, then they really would have to talk – Dawson would have to man-up and ask him.
**
Blue and white flags fluttered in the evening breeze, illuminated by electric pearls of incandescence, as Joey wound her way through the streets of Capeside toward the boardwalk where earlier that day she'd been conscripted for pancake-serving servitude. Now she had again been drafted; this time to return to the scene of the culinary crime to retrieve Bessie's brand new nylon pancake flipper.
She didn't honestly mind, though; the walk gave her time to think and breathe. Time to make sense out of the non-sense that was her life at the moment. Time to breathe without the weight of everyone's eyes on her shoulders, watching and critiquing her every move.
Nothing had gone as she had hoped. She had given up her chance with Pacey to restore order to their small but fragile universe, but that particular goal seemed a distant dream. Attempting to untangle the knotted mess, she tried to arrange the facts in her head much as she organized her homework:
Dawson still maintained a wounded rage toward Pacey.
Dawson was willing to be friends with her but what that meant exactly seemed murky at best.
From what she gleaned from their conversation this morning, Pacey had tried but hadn't made any headway with Dawson.
Despite his willingness to try to make peace with Dawson, Pacey seemed to be taking extraordinary care to stay far, far away from her.
It was the last fact that hurt the most. She'd made the first move when she went to Pacey that night on the True Love, hadn't she? Extending the proverbial olive branch of friendship, even if her hand had been shaky and the offer somewhat muddled. Still, the ball was firmly in his court.
Right?
But he hadn't made a move.
Not one.
Which brought her to only one conclusion. Pacey's avoidance meant he didn't want to be around her; that he didn't want her in his life, not even as friends - something she hadn't counted on when she had tried to turn back time.
But if that's the way he felt, the very least she could do was respect his wish. After all the pain she'd caused, she owed him that much. Which was why whenever she saw him, whether it be in the hallway or in the cafeteria, she did her best to be invisible, not wanting to cause him any awkwardness or anymore pain by her presence.
Even if those very actions caused her immense pain.
Sighing heavily, she rounded the corner of the last building on Water Street to cut across the lot toward the boardwalk. When she heard loud, tense voices carry through the clear night air, Joey stopped in her tracks to listen. Her heart beating loudly in her ears, she felt her stomach turn to lead as soon as she identified those voices.
Determined to intervene in this craziness, she took two steps forward only to immediately falter when she heard Dawson clearly say '…you made that clear when you moved in on Joey.'
Grimacing, she took one more step then heard Pacey's low growl echo off the building and through the lot.
'For the very last time, Dawson, I made a mistake.'
Paralyzed once more, this time by a debilitating blow to the heart, Joey stood unblinking as the rest of their conversation faded into incomprehensible noise.
…I made a mistake.
He made a mistake.
Pacey made a mistake.
It was a mistake.
They were a mistake?
Unable to think or move or even breathe, Joey could barely fathom what she'd heard. Several heartbeats passed before she finally realized her proximity to the quarrelling boys. Fearing discovery, she took a breath to jump start her body and backed up before quickly turning on her heels and heading the way she had come; pancake flipper be damned.
Heart constricted painfully in her chest, Joey fled mindlessly through the streets of her small town. Eventually, she found herself at a familiar gate; the iron hinges creaked as she pushed through. It was only then that she became conscious of the moisture coating her face and her stuffy nose. She furiously swiped her eyes with her jacket sleeve and, sniffling loudly, made her way unerringly to the small plaque set flat in the ground.
Distraught, she fell to her knees with a sob. Drawing in a tremulous breath, she ran her fingers along the engraved stone, the date and name becoming a blur as once more the moisture pooled.
"Hi, Mom," she whispered and tried to smile bravely. "It's me. I know it's been a while." Her poor attempt at a smile broke. "I'm… I'm not doing so good."
And with that, the salty tracks increased to rivers down her cheeks. She shifted positions and drew her knees up, hugging them tightly to her chest, and dropped her head on top. She remained like that for a long time, gently rocking herself, repeating the words 'I don't know what to do' over and over and over.
When she had exhausted herself, Joey lifted her head and let the evening breeze cool her heated face. Sinking to the ground, she laid on her back and looked up to the stars; searching for an anchor, she spoke to the one person who could no longer help her.
"I m-miss you, Mom. So, so much." The burning tingle in the back of her throat, signaling the onset of its constriction, caused her to swallow hard. "I-I've messed it all up, haven't I? I don't know what to do anymore." A sniff. "I don't have anyone to talk to." Another sniff. "I just… I just really n-need you right now. I can't do this alone. I really need… I really need m-my mom. Oh, Mom." The sniff became a moan as Joey poured her heart out to the mother who had once dried her tears and held her as she spoke soothing words of love, reassurance and peace into her daughter's daily dilemmas.
How could she do this without her mother? How could she figure it all out? How could she grow up and do the right thing for everyone, including herself, when she had no one to help her sort it out?
Feeling adrift and torn apart, Joey gave way to her inner turmoil and let the snippets of Pacey's and Dawson's argument seep through her tired mind.
Maybe it was for the best that Pacey thought he made a mistake. Wasn't it better in the long run that they forgot all about the fluttering in their bellies and the warmth in their hearts when they were together? What's to say those feelings would last anyhow? After all, there was once a time when she thought her and Dawson would last forever. Everything about Pacey represented the unknown, unchartered territories. Things would be much easier for everyone if they simply went back to being… well, whatever it was before he'd kissed her, or maybe even before that.
Whatever that was…
She rubbed her forehead in an attempt to soothe the dull ache in her temples. If she could get past the devastated wasteland inside her to rouse enough rage, she'd be furious with him. He thought it was a mistake?! He'd been the one who kissed her first, for crying out loud! Made her analyze her feelings for him! Why hadn't he discovered his error sooner, huh?
No wonder he'd been keeping his distance lately. It was obvious that he'd not only moved on but was sorry he'd ever gotten involved with her in the first place.
How wrong she'd been about everything.
Of course, all things considered, she couldn't honestly blame him.
She had not stood up for them, after all. She'd been so intent on protecting Dawson and coddling their fragile friendship that she hadn't taken Pacey's feelings into account, at all.
She taken it for granted that he'd be the one constant in her rapidly changing world.
No wonder he finally realized what a mistake he'd made.
How could she expect him to think they were worth it, when she herself didn't think she was?
She had told him it was over. She had been the one to walk away. What did she expect him to do? He was just trying to salvage his relationship with Dawson.
After all, isn't that what she wanted, too?
She honestly didn't know anymore. It felt as though she was standing on the edge of a precipice only she didn't know which way to turn to safety.
If only someone could hand her all the answers; give her a sign as to what was the right thing to do.
Sighing deeply and sniffling one last time, Joey listened to the quiet sounds of the springtime night whispering peace to her troubled soul and allowed the breeze to dry her tears like the loving caress of her mother's fingertips.
*~*
Leaping onto the True Love, Pacey flung his gear on the deck and turned to cast off, in preparation for the sail back to his slip.
Will said nothing but watched him worriedly as they worked efficiently to get under full sail. Once they were safely out in the harbor, he perched on the bench next to where Pacey held the tiller. "She didn't mean it, you know. She doesn't really hate you."
Pacey's jaw had relaxed somewhat the further they travelled from shore but he didn't answer his friend and kept his eye steady on the course ahead.
Will allowed the sea to work its magic on Pacey's aching heart, and though it was by no means mended by the time the boathouse was in sight, his demeanor was less furious and more resigned. Will tried again, "You know, it's like the race today."
Pacey cocked an eyebrow at him as he expertly maneuvered the small craft toward its resting place.
"Sometimes even when true love has the right-of-way it has to swerve to avoid a collision," Will observed.
Pacey gave a pained smirk. "Will's words of wisdom, huh?"
Will grinned sympathetically. "Somethin' like that."
Pacey's return smile was more of a grimace as the True Love bumped the dock. "Let's put her to bed, my friend."
*~*
Mitch Leery slammed open the door of the white clapboard house as he bellowed for his son. When he didn't receive an immediate response, he continued to shout, "Dawson!" until he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs.
Hair flopping in his face, Dawson regarded his father with curiosity. "Did you call me?"
"Did I call you? YES, I called you! Where have you been?" Mitch sputtered, red-faced.
Dawson looked puzzled. "Well… here."
"And you can't think of somewhere else you should have been?"
Realizing his father was upset about something, but unable to quite determine what that was, Dawson answered carefully. "At the restaurant?" he guessed.
"Dawson, are you so completely clueless that you didn't think that you had some responsibility to get Mr. McPhee's boat back to the marina and clean it up after the race?"
Washed out blue eyes slid sideways as he comprehended his error. "But, Dad, I had to go find Joey. She was so upset and I knew you and Jack were on board and…," he trailed off.
"Which brings me to my next question. What in the world were you thinking out there, son?! Your recklessness could have caused a collision that might have resulted in injury to everyone on board both boats. And if it weren't for Pacey and Will's expert skills, that's exactly what would have happened!"
Dawson's resentment began to rise. "He was in my way, Dad! Isn't the point of the race to win?"
"Did you even read the rules? Good God, Dawson, you've been watching the regatta since before you could walk. Have you ever seen one boat get in another's lane?"
Unwilling to admit his error, though he had not won the race for that very reason, and in fact had been disqualified, he sulked, "I don't know."
"You know, Dawson, I actually admired you for going after what you wanted; for refusing to stand back and simply talk about what you wanted. For taking action to make it happen. But what you did today, son, was just plain wrong. You put lives in danger to enact a fantasy. This isn't a movie, where the hero always wins because that's the way the script is written. This is real life where actions have consequences!"
Flapping his arms in exasperation, Dawson exploded. "What do you want me to say, Dad? I'm sorry? Then I'm sorry! Okay?! I was just trying to be the kind of guy that Joey wants!"
"Well, I can't imagine that Joey wants a guy who is irresponsible with other people lives and property." Mitch shook his head and sighed wearily. "You can plan on spending the next few days helping your mom with inventory at the restaurant. Off the clock."
As Dawson turned to shuffle away, Mitch added, "Hold on a minute, I'm not done. I think you owe Jack, Will and Pacey an apology." He paused to let the weight of his words and Pacey's name take effect. "Jack didn't deserve to have you take advantage after he was kind enough to lend you his dad's boat. And whatever has happened between you and Pacey, trying to kill him was an inappropriate and immature response."
With his back turned, Dawson rolled his eyes and mumbled something as he started up the stairs.
Mitch cupped a hand to his ear. "What was that?"
"Yes, sir."
Stomping up the steps, Dawson thought he might say something to Jack but it would be a cold day in hell before he apologized to Pacey.
*~*
Still holding the wet plaque in his hands, Pacey watched Andie make her way back up the pier. She was right. Love was a pretty strong word. Maybe strong enough to overcome what seemed like insurmountable obstacles.
Will was right, too. Maybe true love sometimes veered off course in order to avoid a collision, but in the end it always won.
If he didn't give up.
Pacey understood the veering off course part, for sure. He and Joey had run into a roadblock, and while that roadblock may look like Dawson Leery, Pacey thought it might have a little more to do with the fear of letting go of childhood comforts and facing the unknown – with him.
Joey had said it herself not more than an hour ago, using the metaphor of painting to express her real emotions. She didn't want to give up on them. She just wasn't ready to take action.
Whether or not she ever would be, Pacey didn't know; but he wasn't quite willing to give up on true love yet.
At least in theory.
Tucking the plaque under his arm, he dug around in the bench seat until he found his trusty tool box. Locating the screwdriver he needed, he set to work reattaching the nameplate to True Love's hull.
Some things, at least, were easy to mend.
*~*
Unable to watch Pacey walk away, Joey resolutely faced the expanse of bricks before her. He had surprised her by coming here tonight. He'd been wrong, though. She hadn't hoped that he was Dawson; she'd simply been surprised that he sought her out since she was sure he'd been avoiding her.
But she couldn't answer his question about soulmates and whether she'd ever love him the same way she'd loved Dawson. Because she would have said 'no' – she didn't want what she had had with Dawson; she wanted something better, something more.
She just wasn't ready to admit that out loud to the one person who had the power to give her that and change her world forever.
Her eyes, darkened by dusk, roamed the length and breadth of the wall, tracing the rough brick patterns. She wondered if she'd ever be ready to… paint.
It was so big.
So overwhelming, even.
She might never be ready.
And, at least for tonight, she didn't think she was up to the challenge.
The wall was just too high.
What she really wanted was something familiar. Something comfortable. Something certain.
Something she knew how to do.
Making a decision, she picked up the paint can she'd set on the ground and headed to the one place where she knew what to expect.
*~*
Climbing that ladder seemed a little cowardly and, if she was honest with herself, a little childish. She knew Dawson's open invitation was fraught with unspoken expectations.
But, just for tonight, she didn't care.
Like she'd wished for at her mother's grave, she wanted someone else to show her the answers instead of asking her to give them.
And it seemed Dawson was the one to do just that. He was the only one asking something from her, telling her what to do, and making it perfectly clear he wanted her in his life and would fight for her. Her troubled soul didn't consider whether that was the right thing - whether it was better that someone give you the time and space and freedom of freewill - because right now she didn't have it in her to think it all the way through.
She was only human; and right now she was very weary and lost in a maelstrom.
She wanted a shortcut.
A quick solution to end all the pain.
Trapped in a fog of emotions, she wanted to curl up and comfort herself by escaping to memories of happier times.
And, so, she headed for the lighthouse that was the shining light through Dawson's open window.
She didn't stop to consider that lighthouses are not always a sign of safety; they are only there to warn souls of the dangers of the rocks and cliffs that surround them - that if you get too close, the swell will pull you in and never let go, destroying you until there is nothing left.
Sailors say that when caught up in a raging storm, sometimes it's best to stay away from the apparent safety of land – to not be too hasty in seeking shore but instead head out as far as possible and drop anchor, trusting in yourself and your vessel and to wait it out. Such that when the clouds eventually pass and the waves recede, you can see what was there in front of you all the time, waiting patiently for you.
Safe harbor.
Not all shortcuts are worth the risk; reaching safe harbor, however, is worth any wait.
*~*
It Is What It Is by Lifehouse
It is what it is
I was only looking for a shortcut home
But it's complicated
So complicated
Somewhere in this city is a road I know
Where we could make it
But maybe there's no making it now
Too long we've been denying
Now we're both tired of trying
We hit a wall and we can't get over it
Nothing to relive
It's water under the bridge
You said it, I get it
I guess it is what it is
I was only trying to bury the pain
But I made you cry and I can't stop the crying
Was only trying to save me
But I lost you again
Now there's only lying
Wish I could say it's only me
Too long we've been denying
Now we're both tired of trying
We hit a wall and we can't get over it
Nothing to relive
It's water under the bridge
You said it, I get it
I guess it is what it I
Here it comes ready or not
We both found out it's not how we thought
That it would be, how it would be
If the time could turn us around
What once was lost may be found
For you and me, for you and me
Too long we've been denying
Now we're both tired of trying
We hit a wall and we can't get over it
Nothing to relive
It's water under the bridge
You said it, I get it
I guess it is what it is
I was only looking for a shortcut home
But it's complicated
So complicated
*~*
