Itwas another quiet Friday night, just the two of them at Pacey's boat. They had fallen into this routine over the past few weeks—Joey would bring over her schoolbooks and try to study, while Pacey would do whatever he could to distract her. She was supposed to be mad about it, but she wasn't. Not really.

Tonight, she sat curled up on the worn sofa he'd somehow managed to fit into the tiny cabin, one leg tucked beneath her as she tried to focus on the pages of her biology textbook. Pacey was sprawled out beside her, his arm draped along the back of the couch, pretending to watch The X-Files on the tiny, flickering TV he'd rigged to an old antenna.

"You know," he said, breaking the silence, "this is probably the most boring way we could spend a Friday night."

"Some of us have priorities, Pacey," Joey retorted without looking up from her book.

"Uh-huh," he drawled, leaning a little closer to her. "And some of us know how to have fun."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the faint smile tugging at her lips. "And by fun, you mean wasting time until you inevitably irritate me into leaving?"

"Exactly." He grinned, unrepentant. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he started tracing his fingers up and down her spine, so lightly it was barely a touch.

Joey stiffened at first, but the sensation sent a shiver through her that she couldn't hide. Pacey noticed, of course, and his grin turned into a smirk.

"Well, well," he said in that infuriatingly cocky tone of his. "I didn't know I had that kind of effect on you, Potter."

"You don't," she shot back, her voice shaking slightly as she tried—and failed—to concentrate on the textbook in her lap. "I'm just cold."

"Sure you are," he teased, his fingers continuing their lazy path down her back.

She tried to ignore him, but the warmth of his hand and the teasing touch made it impossible. When she turned to glare at him, he pounced, his hands suddenly darting to her sides as he started tickling her.

"Pacey!" she squealed, trying to squirm away from him.

"What's wrong, Potter? Can't handle a little fun?" he teased, laughing as she tried to shove him away.

"Stop it!" she cried, laughing despite herself.

In the struggle, she ended up pressed against him, their laughter fading as they suddenly realized how close they were. Her breath caught as she looked up into his blue eyes, which were staring back at her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if drawn together by some invisible force, Pacey leaned down, and Joey closed the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if neither of them could quite believe what was happening. But then something shifted, and it deepened, became more insistent. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer, and her fingers found their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. Joey stared at him, her heart racing, her lips still tingling.

"What... what was that?" she managed to whisper.

Pacey's expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper. "That, Potter, was me finally doing what I've been wanting to do for a long time."

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she smiled—soft, genuine, and just a little shy.

"Well, Witter," she said, her voice low, "it's about time."

He grinned, and in that moment, everything else faded away. For once, there was no banter, no walls between them—just Joey and Pacey, and the start of something neither of them could have seen coming.