Disclaimer: If I *wasn’t* a closet paranoid schizophrenic, and if I
*didn’t* think I would get arrested and beaten senseless in a bizarre
FBI conspiracy, I would stop writing these. But since I *am*
Spoilers: Read and learn.
Rating: Steamy Windows
Prologue (cont.) ---FYI--Note to my readers--there is a scene in the
middle of this part where Dawson and Joey get a *little* frisky.
However, this will not turn into a D/J romance story--despite the fact
that they are nekkid, their conversation is important because it has
this little literary technique called ‘fore-sha-do-wing’. It’s a big
one, I know, but try to bear with me.
Andie was the first of the three to awaken. The sun was low in the
sky.
“Wow,” she said, “you want me to drive for a while?” she
stretched, rubbing the back of Pacey’s neck, gently.
"The way you drive? Forget it!”
“Shut up!” Andie hissed, pulling her hand back.
“Look-we’re almost there,” Pacey pointed at the road sign, posting
Starboard as five miles away. Andie sat up in her seat, alert, and
started pointing left and right at the appropriate turnoffs.
Dawson woke up slowly, as Pacey pulled into a long gravel driveway. He
shook a warm and rosy Joey out of a peaceful slumber. Pacey parked as a
tall, elegant woman emerged from the large, Victorian style home.
“Aunt Elaine!” Andie screamed, jumping out of the Jeep. She danced
over to the woman and nearly toppled her over.
“Auntie, this is Pacey Witter, my best friend, and these are our
friends, Dawson...um, Dawson..” Andie racked her brain for his last
name.
“Leery. Dawson Leery, and this is Joey Potter.”
“Joey?” she asked quizzically.
“Josephine, ma’am,” Joey corrected, taking an instant liking to the
older woman.
Dawson could *not* say the same. Something about the
woman was a little odd.
“How long have you children been driving?’ Mrs. McPhee asked,
concerned.
“All day, Auntie...are our rooms ready?” Andie threaded her arm through
the older woman’s as she led the way back into the house.
Pacey and
Dawson looked at each other warily, but grabbed the bags from the trunk
of the car and followed them inside.
The quartet marveled over the polished wood floors and staircases, and
the large, picture windows, looking out over the crashing waves and
dusky cliffs. Each room had a large oak, four poster bed with a
hand-stitched quilt. Dawson put his bags into his room, and went
immediately across the hall to Joey’s room. Andie, Joey and Mrs. McPhee
were too busy looking at the framed pictures on the wall to notice his
entrance.
“Well, do I get a tip?” he joked, watching them look. Mrs. McPhee,
startled, turned around quickly.
“Young man, maybe you should stay out in the hall and wait for us
there. ’Tisn’t proper for a gentleman to enter a lady’s room.”
“No problem,” Dawson was respectful.
Behind her aunt’s back, Andie
rolled her eyes at Joey, but thought better of telling her aunt that
Dawson and Joey had been sleeping in the same bed since they were
children.
During dinner, Mrs. McPhee gave the boys disapproving looks over the
tops of her glasses, a fact which escaped no one’s attention.
“So, Mr. Witter--what exactly are your intentions with my niece?” Mrs.
McPhee began to grill him as soon as he had taken his first bite of
pumpkin pie.
He nearly choked on his pie, but managed to swallow it--
Andie flamed crimson and put her head in her hands.
“Well, ma’am, I’m not sure about Andie--but I consider myself a good
friend. I like to participate in school activities with her--as well as
activities after school and on the weekends,” Pacey managed.
“So...what are these ‘activities’?” Mrs. McPhee asked defensively.
“Well, just recently, ma’am, Andie and I went together to the school
dance...”
“Andie can’t dance,” Mrs. McPhee said sharply.
“Yes, ma’am, I know,” Pacey grinned at Andie, but dropped it when Mrs.
McPhee scowled.
“Are you courting her, young man?”
“Not that I am aware of, ma’am,” Pacey was surviving this well.
“What are your future plans, Mr. Witter?”
“Auntie, that is *enough*,” Andie finally spoke up, from behind her
hands.
“No, dear, I’m afraid it’s not. Since your mother
is...incapacitated...I feel it is my duty...” Mrs. McPhee began.
“No!” Andie cut her off, “stop there. We can discuss this later.”
“But...”
“Later!” Andie lost her temper, and threw down her napkin and stalked
out.
Everyone heard the front door slam. Pacey hastily followed her.
Dawson and Joey sat, uncomfortably, as Mrs. McPhee turned to them
sweetly.
“Would either of you like another piece of pie?”
“Don’t let her get to you,” Pacey said loudly, over the whipping wind.
“I didn’t.”
“Pacey, when she lived her with us, she was exactly the same. She
alienated every friend I ever had--finally I stopped bringing them
home,” Andie said sadly.
“So, why this? Why now? Why are *we* here?” Pacey asked, confused.
“She swore to me she had changed--that she was ready to accept that I
had friends. I thought you guys loved me enough as my friends not to
hold it against me,” Andie cried, hopelessly.
“We don’t,” Pacey assured her.
“What about Dawson and Joey?”
“They wouldn’t either. Trust me, they have both seen and heard more
bizarre scenes than we just went through,” Pacey pulled Andie into his
arms and kissed her forehead.
She arose awkwardly, and pulled him, by
the hand, back into the house.
After a gourmet meal, the four retreated to the small sitting room
adjoined to the kitchen to talk quietly and watch television. Finally,
Joey, and Dawson retired, yawning and whispering quietly. After four
yawns from Pacey, Andie finally got the message that he was ready to go
to bed, too. She bade her aunt a harried good night, and hastily made
her way up the stairs, allowing Pacey to follow *very* closely on her
heels. She led them up to her room and as he escaped inside, she
leaned against the door. From Dawson’s room, the next door down, they
heard a muted moan. Smiling knowingly, they hastily retreated to
Pacey’s room instead.
Pacey stripped down to his boxers and a white T-shirt, hopped up onto
the bed and leaned against the headboard of the beautiful oak
headboard. Andie sat at the foot of the bed and rested against one of
the posters.
“You *can* get closer, you know--I’m not contagious,” Pacey assured
her.
“I know,” Andie sighed, “it just seems a little strange. This is the
house I grew up in--me and Jack.”
“And how come Jack didn’t want to come?” Pacey raised his eyebrows.
“Oh--he had to work. So Joey could take the time off,” Andie
stretched, “he wouldn’t have liked it here with us, anyway. He’s not a
big participator, if you haven’t noticed.”
“C’mere,” Pacey pulled her by her arms onto his chest. She sighed
restlessly.
“Maybe we shouldn’t--my aunt is downstairs, and...”
Pacey put a finger to her lips, “two floors down and I bet she already
has her hearing aid out.” Andie sighed again, but tilted her head up
for a sweet kiss.
Across the hall, pale moonlight washed over arms and legs, hands and
feet, hair and faces. Dawson sighed a soft, but heavy groan into Joey’s
hair as he moved his body to spoon her smooth, naked back.
“Oh, *Dawson*,” Joey said softly as he absentmindedly ran his fingers
up and down her arms.
“Hey, Jo,” he asked, distracted, “does something seem strange about
this woman to you?”
“Oh, no,” Joey groaned, “I think I know what you are going to say and I
think your imagination is running away with you again.”
“No seriously. There is something a little too Donna Reed/Betty
Crocker/Martha Stewart wholesome about this woman...” Dawson pointed
out.
“Don’t go there, Dawson,” Joey rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, Joey. She’s just too prim and proper.”
“I noticed at dinner she practically fed us to death--we’ve got her on
gluttony, Dawson. I wonder if we could get a warrant for that,” Joey
said, mocking him.
“Okay--example--at dinner she was mentioning the importance of a strong
man in a woman’s life--very conservative. Then she grilled Pacey about
his honorable intentions with Andie--or the lack thereof. She almost
had an aneurysm at the thought of me in your room.”
“I wonder how wiggy she would get if she knew you come into my *body*
Joey sighed erotically.
Dawson was losing more and more of his
concentration.
“Even the prim Mrs. Ryan allowed Jen and I to work in our rooms during
the Econ project--this woman seems too nineteenth century to me,” Dawson
managed to stammer out as Joey flipped over onto her other hip in his
arms. ‘She is so beautiful,’ he thought.
Joey jumped onto her knees, “I think we need a midnight rendezvous to
investigate,” she quipped.
“Well, you have the rendezvous part down,” Dawson said, pulling her by
her hips back down to the bed with him, “way down.”
Pacey awoke to the sensation of a heavy body on his chest. It was
enough to give him a stiffy, but he controlled himself for the sake of
the beautiful girl on his chest. His mind wandered back to the
Homecoming dance, when she’d put her tiny hand in his and danced with
him at the dock. That night had been their first kiss; certainly not
his first, but most probably hers.
He thought about the night of their “study session” when she had topped
the sex quiz at a purity level of a whopping 92 points. He’d hurt her
that night--intentionally, at that. Some might say he had done wrong by
telling her the truth. But wasn’t the truth what everyone “wanted” in
their relationships? He did just as well with secrets, personally. But
he couldn’t say that--not to Andie, anyway.
Andie groan as he cradled his arms around her and flipped over so as to
gently deposit her on the bed and leave her there. She squirmed a
little, but didn’t wake up. She murmured his name--and he knew if he
didn’t get off of her, she was going to get the ugly truth about
erections before she was ready.
Pacey kissed her forehead, and gave her one last look before he escaped
out the door and down the hall.
He needed to clear his head.
He walked
gingerly down the stairs and out the front door. The wind was blowing,
but it wasn’t really cold. The wind chimes tinkled softly from
overhead, and Pacey spied a very comfortable-looking padded porch
swing. He went to sit, and he put his head in his hands.
His head shot up as a tall figure slipped out of the front door. He
almost choked when he recognized Mrs. McPhee looking around shiftily,
and then hurrying to her car. She started the car and drove very slowly
down the driveway with her headlights off. When she reached the road,
she turned them on and took off like a shot towards the small town.
Pacey’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Oh, would he have something
to tell Dawson the next morning...