Evil Willow's Favorite Fanfic

A Silent Revelation


Part 11

Written By: Cat
Rating: G
Summary: Dawson's Creek goes through some changes.

Disclaimer: I am not in any way affilated with the show.
I don't not own any of the characters from the show. I do
own rights to any characters I have made up. No copy rght
infirgment intended.

It seemed to Pacey that first semester had dragged on for an eternity. He was sick of school and sick of Capeside, and that wasn't all: he and Jen had decided to call it quits within the first month of school. The bottom line was that even though he was getting great grades and his dad was smiling a little more, Pacey was miserable. So, of course, when Cloey invited him to tag along with her, Dawson, and the Potter crew to New York, he jumped at the invitation. Pacey decided to skip school the day before Thanksgiving break. He didn't know if he could stand another day, and didn't want to find out. Driving down Parker Street to the Potters' house, he reflected what a blessing Cloey had been to his circle of friends. She had helped Bessie and Bodie with a down payment for a newer, nicer house, taken the gang to the Caribbean, and was now bringing them to New York. She was more than generous-in fact, Cloey was a pretty great person. That was why he couldn't help but be envious as he watched Dawson and Cloey becoming more and more involved. He often found himself just sitting, staring at Cloey, wondering what was going on inside her head. Unfortunately, he already knew what was happening in her heart. It was a trait both the Potter girls shared. They just had a way of showing who they loved without saying a word. Pacey shook himself out of his reverie. Pulling up in front of the Potters' house, he wasn't surprised to see Dawson and Cloey in the driveway. "Hey Pacey. You're not going to school either?" Cloey asked, handing Dawson a duffel bag. "That was more a statement than a question, right?" Pacey replied. Cloey smiled. "Yeah, and since you're free for the day, you can help Dawson pack the luggage into the cars." Dawson grinned. "She's a slave driver, Pace. Don't let her use her evil ways on you." "I'll be careful. Now look here, missy," he said, turning back to the laughing girl beside him, "You've been working that hombre over there too hard. It's time you saw what a real man can do." Cloey just rolled her eyes, smiling, as he tossed a suitcase into the trunk. "Everyone ready to get out of here?" Bessie asked as she shut the trunk. "Everything is shipshape, captain. Prepare fordeparture?" Pacey asked, clicking his heels together. "Get in the car," Bodie said, rolling his eyes. "Yes SIR!" "Cloey, follow us--and don't get far behind, okay?" Bessie said, concerned. "Okay," Cloey said tolerantly. "Don't worry." As Bessie turned away, her sister rolled the window back up. With that, she flicked the CD player on, and turned to Dawson and Pacey. "Ready to bust outta this joint?" she said, grinning. And off they went, music blaring. A bellhop approached them as they pulled up under the awning of the New York Palace Hotel. "Good day, ma'am. Can I help you with your luggage?" Pacey watched in silent admiration as Cloey instantly became Miss Supermodel, smiling graciously and directing two valets and a bellhop effortlessly. He was even more awed when she led him, Dawson, and the Potters into the lobby. It was the biggest room Pacey had ever seen. The chandelier was larger than most cars, and the mahogany furnishings and Axminster rugs complemented the marble floor. Cloey, accustomed to such opulent surroundings, walked up to the front desk. "Yes, I'm Cloey Richardson. I have two suites in The Towers," she told the manicured woman behind the desk. The woman nodded respectfully as she consulted her computer. Then she frowned. Looking up, she said, "I'm afraid we only have one suite reserved under your name, ma'am." Cloey sighed. "I'm certain I reserved two. In fact, I confirmed the arrangements last week. I have two suites." "We only have one for you, ma'am." The woman looked slightly annoyed. "I'm sure we can find you another, thought it may not be in The Towers." Cloey's eyes took on a steely cast. "I will have two suites in The Towers regardless of whether there is another one available or not." Pacey and Dawson came over in time to hear the woman say, "I'm afraid that can't be arranged at the moment." Cloey was coldly, elegantly livid. She and the woman continued arguing politely for the another ten minutes until she had had it. She drew herself up to her full height and said, "It will be arranged. I am a regular guest of this hotel and I believe my continued patronage warrants two suites in The Towers. If you should prefer that I take my business elsewhere, however, that can also be arranged." She picked up her purse and made to leave. Pacey wanted to clap when the woman, thoroughly put in her place, offered to speak to the manager. "Please do," Cloey said cooly. Then, just as Pacey and Dawson were feeling rather subdued by her sudden aura of sophistication, she turned to them. Winking mischievously, she said, "This is the best part of my job. You always get what you want." No, Pacey wanted to say as he watched her giggle. You always get what you want because you're a Potter girl. Just like Joey. A half hour later, the three found themselves in their rooms--a nineteenth-floor suite in The Towers. "Wow," Pacey exclaimed, taking in the luxurious living room, kitchenette, and adjoining bedrooms. "So this is what the good life is all about." "Almost," Cloey said, laughing. She walked over to the picture windows and opened the drapes, revealing a perfect view of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Dawson grinned, moving closer to the window Cloey stood at. "This is amazing," he exclaimed, brushing against her as he leaned over to look. Cloey shivered. The feeling of his body so close sent chills down her back. She wanted nothing more than to turn her head the scant inches that would be required to kiss him, but she knew she couldn't. Not here, so close to Joey. *Besides, Dawson's devoted to her.* Pacey smirked at the suppressed energy evident in the two by the window. Their entire situation was more than a little pathetic. Turning away from Dawson, Cloey caught a glimpse of it. It was enough. "What are you laughing at, Witter?" she questioned cooly, barely restraining a smile. "Oh nothing," Pacey said, clasping his hands behind his back and trying to look innocent. "Pacey, I'm waiting…" Just as he opened his mouth to tell her to calm down, Cloey took the initiative and pinned him on the couch. Dawson turned around to see Pacey and Cloey rolling around on the elegant carpet. He quickly sized up the situation, realizing that if he didn't act he might lose Cloey to Pacey. But then he would lose Joey. He frowned, running his hand through his hair, until his thoughts were interrupted by Cloey's musical laughter. Pacey now had her pinned. "Okay, okay, I give," she said, gasping for air between laughs. Pacey refused to relent. "What do you say?" he said, mocking her. Cloey sighed heavily. "PaceywitteristhefunniestmostintelligentandsexiestguyIknow," she said in a quick breath. It had become ritual in her and Pacey's quarrels that whoever lost had to say something to the effect of her statement. "That's better," he said, loosening his grip. Sitting upright, he told her, "You know, it might go a lot quicker if you gave up before we got started. "Not so fast," Cloey said, turning on him. She quickly had him pinned, and looked down at him smiling--until she saw a look in his eyes she had never noticed before. She hurriedly looked away and moved to stand up. "Excuse me, you guys," she said, her trained voice barely trembling. "I'm going to go unpack." Pacey and Dawson shrugged, then turned to each other. "Women," Pacey muttered. "They're impossible." Dawson just chuckled. Cloey quickly walked into the bedroom that would be hers and locked the door. *Oh God. Pacey likes me. Not ever, not in a million years, would I have thought of this. It can't be true. It just can't. Besides, I like Dawson.* She paused. *But he's Joey's. What am I supposed to do?*