Saturday Night Fever

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Pacey asks Dawson as they sit around Capeside Video on a boring Saturday afternoon.

"I don't know. Jen has a paper to write, you're going to be here all night because Stan's going to his brother's house, and last I heard Joey was going up to Boston with Bessie and Bodi to visit Bodi's parents. I guess I'm on my own for the weekend. It'll probably just end up being me and E.T.," he says.

"Actually, that's not entirely correct," Pacey says. "Joey didn't go on the trip. She stayed home."

"Really? Why is that?"

Pacey shrugs. "She didn't feel too good. Maybe the thought of being in the car for four hours with a screaming infant wasn't exactly getting her on the road to recovery. Besides, they weren't coming back until Wednesday and she didn't want to miss three days of school." Pacey chuckles. "Hell, I'd have gone just to get out of this town for a while. Is it me or does this place get more dull by the second?"

"Oh, come on, Pace. It's great here," Dawson replies. "You don't know how lucky we are not to live in some big urban jungle. We have a normal life."

"Normal? Dawson, I think my life can hardly be described as normal," he says.

"True, but every town has to have a weirdo," Dawson laughs. "You're like that guy on The Andy Griffith Show that was always in jail drunk."

"Great, not only do I live in Mayberry but now I'm being compared to Otis." Pacey looks up at the ceiling. "Please, have some mercy. Kill me now!"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," Dawson says. "It's not so bad. If you lived in the city you'd be considered boring. At least here you're a thriving part of the local gossip mill."

"Humph, be still my heart," Pacey quips.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stay and talk about how worthless your life is, I think I am going to go home."

"For your date with E.T.?" Pacey teases.

"Something like that," Dawson replies, rolling his eyes.

"Well, don't stay up too late Elliot. And no riding that bike after dark." Dawson turns back to give Pacey a sarcastic look but Pacey just laughs and Dawson decides it's not worth the effort. Instead, he turns around and leaves, shaking his head and laughing as he goes.

Joey wakes up and looks at the clock. It's almost 6 o'clock in the evening and she's been sleeping for hours. She feels like crap. It's a good thing she didn't go on that trip with Bessie and Bodi because she would have been miserable by this time. 'And what am I now?' she wonders as she looks in the mirror. Her hair is a mess and sticking up everywhere, she has dark circles under her eyes and her throat feels like it's on fire. She doesn't care, though. All she wants to do right now is get some orange juice and crawl right back into the bed.

She makes her way into the kitchen slowly. As she reaches the refrigerator, the room starts to spin a little. Grabbing the counter for support she blinks several times and tries to steady herself. "Man, what was that?" she mumbles as things begin to finally come back into focus.

Opening up the refrigerator, Joey takes out the orange juice carton and pours herself a glass. She leans back against the counter and drinks it. Her head is pounding so she decides to get back to bed. She sets aside the empty juice glass and turns back down the hall to the awaiting warmth of her bed.

"Hello?" Dawson says as he picks up the phone.

"Some Kind of Wonderful," he hears Pacey's voice say.

"What?" Dawson is very confused and wonders what his friend could possibly be talking about. Then again, he is talking to Pacey Witter so one never knows . . .

"Some Kind of Wonderful," Pacey repeats.

"Sorry, I'm afraid I don't follow," Dawson says.

"The movie . . . you know."

"Yeah, I've seen the movie. Cheesy 80's flick with the classic rich kid/poor kid scenario as the main plot line. And in the end the guy gets the girl as always. So?"

"No, this one was different. The guy and the girl were both from the wrong side of the tracks. But she wanted to be uptown. He wooed her and in the end she realized what she really wanted wasn't money, she just wanted to be herself."

"Yeah, okay, and then they lived happily ever after. Are we even close to approaching the point yet?"

"You still don't remember the movie. He didn't end up with the high school sweetheart. He ended up with the drummer with the weird car and the weird hair."

"He was gay?"

"No, Jesus, have you ever seen this movie Dawson?" Pacey asks.

"I'm beginning to wonder. Look, I can't remember every movie I've ever seen, okay? And since that one is at least ten years old I was barely in school when it opened. Cut me a little slack here. Besides, what does any of this have to do with anything? Are you playing Trivial Pursuit with yourself or something?"

"Forget it," Pacey says. "I was just sitting around here watching movies and that one made me think to call you. Maybe some day you'll remember the plot."

"Okay Pace. Sure, whatever. Hey, are you sure you feel okay? Maybe whatever has Joey staying home tonight is contagious."

"No, I'm fine. Forget about it . . . Hey, speaking of Joey, have you talked to her today?"

"No, why? Have you?"

"No, and that kind of worries me. Bessie and Bodi left yesterday afternoon and I haven't talked to her since. You'd think that by now she would have gotten bored and called one of us to come over or something."

"Maybe the phone isn't working again. I know they were having trouble with it the other day," Dawson suggests.

"Oh yeah, that's right . . . Well, it might not be such a bad idea for one of us to go by there though. I mean, she is sick. Maybe she shouldn't be by herself," Pacey says.

"Yeah, you may be right. Well, I can go over and check on her. It's not like I'm doing anything else anyway," he says.

"Okay. And, hey, Dawson? Take the cell phone with you and call me back, okay? I just want to be sure everything is alright."

"Yeah, okay, I will. Bye, Pace," he says then hangs up and gets up to find his shoes.

Joey opens her eyes again and this time looks to see the clock by her bed reads just after 8pm. She rolls over and moans at the pounding that has begun behind her eyes. Her head feels like it's on fire while her feet are ice cold. She shivers and curls up, trying to find some warmth. Finally, unable to stand the pulsing pain in her head for another second, she gets up to find some aspirin.

As soon as her feet touch the floor Joey realizes she should probably just stay in bed. She can't, though. How will she ever sleep with this headache? She needs to rest and as soon as she takes a few aspirin she can come back in here and do just that.

She walks unsteadily towards the kitchen, staying close to the walls for balance. She steps onto the tile floor and walks slowly towards the cabinet beside the sink. She feels dizzy and feverish but she keeps searching the cabinet for the pill bottle. When she finally finds it, she leans against the counter and struggles to remove the safety cap.

Joey looks up from the bottle she is struggling with and suddenly realizes something is not right. The room seems to blur together and she can't manage to find her focus. She rubs her eyes but this doesn't offer much help. The top pops off the aspirin but it's a little too late. Joey slides down to the floor. As the pills spill onto the floor around her withered frame, no one is around to hear them fall.

An hour later, Dawson has called Pacey back to let him know the situation and he is now sitting alongside Joey on the bed. He's been sitting here for quite a while now, watching her sleep. She looks peaceful at last. He touches her forehead. The fever has gone down some. That's a good sign.

With the back of his hand Dawson gently caresses Joey's cheek. Why hadn't he noticed before how beautiful she is? He thinks of all the times she's stayed over at his house watching movies and talking about anything and everything . . . they've had some good times. Joey is the only person he's ever really been able to talk to. She understands him like no one else does. Sometimes, he thinks she understands him better than he understands himself. Good old Joey, always there for him . . .

'Why is that? She's always around when I need her but tonight I almost wasn't here when she needed me most.' Dawson can't help but feel guilty. What if he'd decided not to come over here? He really hadn't wanted to. He hadn't wanted to face up to all of this. Ignoring his feelings for Joey has been so much simpler than facing them.

Tonight, though, Dawson has realized something. He's finally seen how important she is in his life. For a split second tonight he felt like he might actually lose her forever . . . Nothing had ever scared him more. The thought of life without her was . . . unthinkable. He could never survive without Joey.

He looks at her now as she sleeps and he smiles. Maybe he has been missing something. Maybe what he's needed all along has been right in front of him . . .

Pacey sits in the video store and watches the tiny television screen before him. Mary Stuart Masterson and Eric Stoltz walk hand in hand down the street together as the credits to 'Some Kind of Wonderful' begin to roll. It had taken the guy the whole movie to realize that the high school beauty wasn't the girl he really loved. The one he wanted, the one he'd always wanted really, was the one that was right within his reach. His best friend . . . how familiar does that sound? The tomboy, the girl he had always talked to about everything, the last one he expected to end up with and the first one he always turned to. 'Talk about déjà vu,' Pacey thinks.

He turns off the set and presses rewind on the movie. He wonders what happened to those two best friends after the credits finished. Was there enough material for a sequel or was this strictly a one-movie franchise? Apparently John Hughes had not seen anything else in this story worth sharing with the world. Pacey, however, can see the possibilities for a remake. He smiles slightly as he puts the movie back in its case and starts closing up for the night.

By midnight, Dawson has gotten Joey into bed, given her a few Tylenol, taken her temperature no less than a dozen times, called his parents to let them know he won't be coming home, and he is now utterly exhausted. He's trying to stay awake to keep an eye on Joey but his eyelids feel like they are made of lead. He struggles to keep them open but eventually fatigue wins out and he drifts off to sleep.

The next thing he knows, he wakes up to the sound of Joey moaning and mumbling something. He has been sleeping in a chair by the bed and he looks at the clock nearby to see that he's only been asleep for about half an hour. That was long enough though; Joey's fever is back. He reads the thermometer he has placed in her mouth the confirm it.

This time, though, instead of being cold she is hot. She kicks and flails, throwing the covers off of her as she mumbles in a semiconscious state. Dawson is at her side instantly to see what he can do.

"Jo? You okay?" He strokes her forehead, which is covered in sweat by now. "Let's get these covers off of you," he says. Even though she's awake, she is really out of it and Dawson can easily see that. Therefore, he doesn't wait for a response. He pulls back the blankets. Joey is wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and a T-shirt. "Is that better?" he asks after the covers are gone.

"It's hot . . ." Joey mumbles.

He hesitates a moment as he tries to decide if he should take off her sweats. She's obviously uncomfortable. Jen's grandmother had told him that Joey would alternate between being very hot and very cold as the fever persisted. She said it was normal and that all he needed to do was make her comfortable and as long as the fever stayed below 102 she'd be fine. Now, he's wondering what Joey would think of him taking off her clothes. It's not like he was considering it for any other reason than to keep her from being miserable . . . he only wants to help.

Finally, after struggling with himself for a few more long seconds, he decides he's being ridiculous. After all, how many times did he and Joey go swimming together or have sleepovers? Until they were probably 13 years old they thought nothing of seeing each other in their underwear. It wasn't like a big deal or anything. But now . . .

'Stop being an idiot!' he tells himself. 'It's just a pair of sweatpants. Jeez, you're not contemplating nuclear physics here!' He nods to himself and lifts Joey gently to a sitting position. "Let's get this sweatshirt off. You'll feel a lot better," he tells her as he lifts the shirt. She tries to sit up but ends up leaning against him as he takes the shirt off. Once it is off and she is in just her T-shirt, he eases her back onto the pillow.

"Dawson . . ." she says weakly.

"Yeah? What's wrong Joey?" he asks.

""It's so hot in here. I'm so . . ." she rubs her face and the rest of the words are muffled but he knows she's uncomfortable.

"It's okay, Jo. Let's get these sweats off you and then you'll feel better, okay?"

"Okay. Okay Dawson . . ." she replies.

He sighs and starts taking off her sweatpants. Finally, Joey is lying on the bed in only her T-shirt and underwear. "Feel better?" Dawson asks as he sits down beside her. He has gotten a cold washcloth from the bathroom and starts wiping her forehead with it.

"Yes, much better . . ." she replies. She closes her eyes as Dawson runs the cool cloth along her face. "That feels good," she says.

He's sitting on the bed beside her and he suddenly becomes aware of just how beautiful she is. For some reason he can't quite figure out, he is suddenly struck with how gorgeous she is. Why, when she's sick and drowsy and hardly able to say a word, would he suddenly think this? He thinks for a moment. 'She needs me,' he realizes as if it has just become apparent to him. It's not the kind of thing most 15 year old guys are looking for in a relationship but at this moment Dawson can't think of anything he wants more than to be needed by this girl and to be able to be there for her. But, is it the feeling he wants or is it the girl? That he isn't sure of.

'Oh well,' Dawson thinks. 'She always tells me I think about things too much. Maybe she's right.' He decides to stop contemplating all of this, at least for now. All he really cares about now is making sure Joey is okay. Nothing else matters to him as much as that.

Dawson wakes up hours later to find that he has fallen asleep once again. This time he has slept longer. It's about 3am when he looks at the clock. It doesn't take long for him to realize what has woken him. It was Joey. She is obviously having another cold flash because she is snuggled up close to him shivering like she's in the middle of a snowstorm.

He starts to get up but she is clinging to him so that he can't leave. Instead, he reaches over her to pull several blankets from the floor nearby and piles them on top of her. "Is that better, Jo? Let me just get up and get your sweatpants . . ."

"No," she says suddenly. "Don't go . . . don't leave me . . ." She sounds frantic which scares him a little. He wraps his arms around her.

"Hey, it's okay. Shh, I'm here; I'm not going anywhere. You're going to be fine. Everything will be just fine." She snuggles even closer to him and he rubs her back and arms to try and warm her up. After a while, she finally stops shivering and falls asleep. Dawson is left on the bed with Joey asleep on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her head rests on his collarbone with his cheek pressed slightly against her hair.

Dawson closes his eyes slowly and opens them back up. He can't believe he's here. He can't believe what he's doing. He can't believe how . . . how right this all feels. 'But, this is Joey . . .' he thinks. 'Yeah, this is Joey.' He breathes in deeply, inhaling the scent of the baby shampoo she had used on her hair that day. It feels so good to hold her that Dawson never wants to let her go.

It's almost 9 o'clock the next morning when Joey finally begins to stir. Her head still hurts a little but not nearly as bad as before and she can tell that her fever has gone down. She is surprised to find herself in Bessie and Bodi's room and wonders for a moment as to how she got there. But she doesn't really have much time to wonder about that. She's too busy wondering why is she is asleep on Dawson's chest, why his arms are wrapped tightly around her, why she's only wearing a T-shirt ...

As if he senses her waking up, Dawson does the same. He opens his eyes and finds himself staring right back at her. "Hey," he smiles drowsily.

"Hey," she replies.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

"Yeah, much, thank you."

"That's good." Suddenly, Dawson realizes he is still holding Joey the way he was last night when she was shivering. He releases his grasp, saying, "Sorry, last night you were . . ."

"No, no need to explain. I'm sure I was a handful." She scoots away as soon as he lets her go, even though she would love nothing more than to stay in his arms all day. "Thanks for taking care of me, Dawson."

"Hey, that's what friends do, right?" he says.

She nods, though she is sort of disheartened to hear him call her his 'friend' even though she knows that's all she is. "Yeah," she replies, "I'm lucky to have such a great friend."

"So am I," Dawson says and Joey smiles. She thinks for a split second that she sees a look in his eyes that suggests more than friendship but whatever she thinks she saw quickly fades and she figures it is all her imagination anyway.

"So, do you remember much?" he asks.

"Not really. I just remember I kept getting really cold then really hot. And I also remember being terrified I was going to be alone."

Dawson casts his eyes away at this. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner yesterday, Jo. I'm sorry you needed me and I wasn't here."

"But you were here. You took care of me. You made me feel safe, like everything would be just fine. I . . . I really appreciate that Dawson."

"It's my pleasure," he smiles. She smiles back and for a moment both of them just stare at one another, trying to decide what the other is thinking. All at once, Dawson looks away. "I'd better go. Jen wanted to go somewhere this afternoon. Are you going to be okay?" he asks as he gets up from the bed.

"Sure, yeah, I'll be fine," she says as she tries to hide her disappointment that he is leaving.

"Okay, I'm going to make you some breakfast before I go, okay? What do you want?"

"No, you don't have to do that. Go . . . Jen is waiting for you," Joey says.

"Hey . . ." he says trying to get Joey to meet his gaze. "Hey," he says softly as he walks over and tilts her chin so that their eyes meet. "Jen will be just fine. Just let me take care of you first, okay?"

Joey doesn't respond but simply nods and smiles slightly.

"Eggs okay?" he asks.

"Sure, fine," she replies.

"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes then," he says and disappears into the kitchen.

After he leaves, she starts to get up to make her way to the restroom but she is still a lot weaker than she had imagined. She struggles to her feet only to fall back down to the bed seconds later. Dawson walks back in about that time to ask how she wants her eggs cooked and sees her struggling back to her feet. "Joey? Are you okay? Sit down," he instructs as he goes to the opposite side of the bed beside her.

"I'm fine, Dawson," she assures him. "I just need to use the bathroom. I think I'm capable of that."

"Well, let me help you to the door at least," he says.

She is reluctant but sees she has little choice and allows him to help her walk across the room. She goes inside the bathroom and Dawson waits outside the door. "I don't need a hall monitor you know," she says.

"I know that . . . I'm only trying to help," he replies. He sounds a little hurt at the fact that she doesn't want his help.

"Sorry," she replies. He hears the toilet flush and the water running then the door opens. "I get cranky when I'm sick," she explains.

"Yeah, I remember," he smiles. They start back towards the bed as Dawson continues. "I will never forget that year you had chicken pox. I thought your mom was going to kill you!" he laughs as he eases her back beneath the covers.

Joey smiles, "I guess I was a little unruly."

"A little?" he laughs. "You managed to drive Bessie out of the house. I seem to remember her crashing on our couch for several days."

"I was only eight. And, besides, I was in pain."

"Yeah, you don't handle that too well, do you?" he chuckles. He's sitting back down beside her on the bed now.

"I didn't back then," she replies sadly. "Since then I've gotten used to it."

He looks at her and losses his smile. "I'm sorry," he says.

"No, it's okay. It's just . . . sometimes I really miss her. There are times when I need her so much it hurts. It's so hard to explain," she says as a tear glides down her cheek.

Dawson wipes away the tear and puts his arms around her. "I'm sorry you lost her. I'd give anything in the world to bring her back."

Joey pulls back a little so that she can look in his eyes. "I know you would," she replies. "You've always done so much to make me happy."

"It's important to me that you're happy," he says.

"That's nice to hear," she says with a small smile and lays her head on his shoulder. She closes her eyes and wishes time could stop right now. She'd be happy to just stay her in Dawson's arms forever.

Dawson holds onto her, thinking how right it feels to comfort her and how good it makes him feel to be able to be there for her. He can feel things between them changing but he's not sure if he should embrace these changes and welcome them or run as fast as he can away from all of this. For now, he decides the best thing to do is just stay where he is and see what happens.