Evil Willow's Favorite Fanfic

Gift Of the Magi


Part 14

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.

Dawson searched the bustling crowd anxiously. *Where is she?* he thought. Suddenly, a lithe figure with long brown hair caught his eye. He smiled as their eyes met, making his way towards her and lifting her off her feet in a bone-crushing hug. "Hey there, Jo," he said when she was back on the floor. She grinned at him, making no move to make him let go of her. "Hey, Dawson," she said, her voice husky. "How've you been?" "I don't mean to interrupt, but shouldn't we be getting our bags now?" Releasing Joey, Dawson turned to find out who had spoiled the moment. When his gaze met that of Anderson Crawford, a flash of uncertainty hit him. What was he doing there? Joey appeared oblivious. Smiling, she looked between the two. "Of course, Anderson. And I know you've met Dawson, and Dawson, you've met Anderson." Feeling his stomach grow heavy, Dawson did his best to smile civilly. Anderson just nodded. "So, where's the rest of the crew?" Joey asked as the three made their way to the baggage claim. Cloey running up was the answer to that question, and Pacey and Jen followed not too far behind. A flurry of hugs and squeals made other travelers wince as greetings and news were exchanged. "Jo, before I forget, Bessie and Bodie told me to tell you they couldn't make it. One of the waitresses called in sick." "It figures," Joey replied, grinning. Then, looking down, she noticed Pacey and Cloey's intertwined fingers. She quickly gave her sister a querying look. Cloey just smiled softly and nodded. "Only a couple weeks," she announced with a laugh. "Three of the happiest weeks of my life," Pacey said melodramatically, putting his arm around Cloey's waist and holding her close to his side. The little group continued walking towards the baggage claim with Joey, Dawson, Pacey, and Cloey in conversation. Jen and Anderson, both feeling a little left out, lagged behind. "So, what brings you to Capeside with Joey?" Jen asked. "Well," Anderson answered, his boarding school drawl pronounced, "my parents were planning on taking our yacht down and meeting some family friends. I decided that I would rather fly than sail, and Joey mentioned that she doesn't like traveling alone, so…here I am." Jen, not put off at all by his casual tone, thought the whole thing sounded more than a little suspicious. "Oh, so you and Joey are very close?" she asked archly. "You could say that, I guess," he responded. Jen frowned. Was he being deliberately evasive, or was he simply not that interested in the conversation? At the Leery residence… After taking a rather circuitous route home, per Cloey and Pacey's request--which had been voiced from somewhere in the backseat--Dawson's Explorer pulled into the driveway. His parents were waiting for them, and the group quickly got settled with hot chocolate and just-out-of-the-oven sugar cookies. Once everyone was sitting in the living room, Joey pulled Cloey into the kitchen. "Okay," she said, "spill it." "Well…you know about what happened with Stephen and all that, and things just kinda evolved from there, I guess." Joey's heart did a little bittersweet twist at the dazed, dazzled look in Cloey's eyes. "He was there, looking his best, and I was there, looking my worst, and somehow it just happened." *Flashback* "Room service," Pacey announced, knocking. "Ah merci, mon beau garçon," Cloey said, sticking her head and hand out into the hall to receive the shirt she had asked for. Pacey looked at her oddly. "What's that supposed to mean?" "I'm freezing, Pace. I'll tell you later, but right now give me the shirt," she replied, laughing. "Not until you tell me what you said about me. Either you tell me or I'm coming in." "Okay, okay," Cloey said, but it was too late. Pacey was already inside.Nearly naked, she reached for the nearest towel. "Pacey!" she squealed. "What?" he responded, deliberately dim. He scooped her up in his arms, towel and all. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what you said." "That's fine with me," she replied, smiling coyly as his arms held her tightly. As he spoke, she stared at his mouth, mesmerized. When she raised her hand up and caressed the side of his face, his mouth moved closer and closer. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his neck and raised her lips to his. Their kiss was long and hot, and when they broke apart, passion filled the room. Still holding her close against his chest, Pacey rested his chin on top of Cloey's hear. "So," he said tentatively, "does this mean what I think it means?" "What do you think it means?" she murmured against his neck. "I think it means this," he said, tilting her mouth up to his. After another soul-wrenching kiss, he arched an eyebrow. "Don't you think?" "Hmm…" she said, smiling mischievously, "I'm not sure. Let's think about it some more." "I like your way of thinking," Pacey replied with a smirk. *End Flashback* "Is it just me or are you happy?" Joey asked sarcastically. "Maybe," Cloey answered with a laugh. Glancing into the living room, she raised an eyebrow. "So Jen and Anderson seem to be getting along quite well. Wonder if there's something there," she said speculatively. "I hope so," Joey answered. "From what I've heard, she's been a little depressed lately. That's too bad. It's Christmas, and she looks like she could use a break." "Yeah, and it couldn't hurt to show Junior over there that there's nothing between you and Anderson. I don't think he was all too happy about him coming with you," Cloey said, shaking her head. "I think you're right…you know, I'm going to have to ask you about that nickname someday." Just then Pacey came up behind Cloey and wrapped his arms around her waist, startling her. Hot chocolate splashed onto her hand. "Pacey!" she exclaimed, setting the mug down on a nearby counter, "That stuff's hot!" He grinned at her unrepentantly. "It'd be my pleasure to kiss it and make it better," he replied, raising her fingertips to his lips. "That better?" he asked. "Much," she stated affirmatively, settling back against his chest. "So, Jo, are we still on for shopping tomorrow?" she asked her sister, who had perched comfortably on the counter, legs swinging. "I wouldn't really call it shopping. After all, when the store comes to you…" "Well, dahling, what other kind is there?" Cloey joked. Joey was about to make a quick retort and continue the banter when Pacey nuzzled her sister's ear and whispered something. Cloey immediately blushed, and though it made Joey smile to see her normally capable twin so flustered, she couldn't stifle a little bit of longing… Just then, Dawson walked in. "Hey there, beautiful," he said to Joey, jumping up to sit next to her and put his arm around her. "Tonight's movie night, you know." "How could I forget?" Later that evening… "Okay, I've got It's a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and the John Hughes masterpiece Home Alone. So what'll it be?" "Opposite order of what you just said," Cloey commanded Dawson, flopping onto the bed. "Any objections?" Dawson asked, surveying the other four, who were settling onto the floor. "Good." He pushed the tape into the VCR. Sitting on the floor in front of the TV, Joey frowned. Up until a year ago, she would have automatically assumed the place Cloey had taken on the bed, but now…she just had the feeling there was something her twin wasn't telling her. Whatever it was, however, she had no idea, so as the movie began she tried to just focus on Maculay Culkin. Jen, who had elected to straddle Dawson's desk chair backwards, rested her chin on her arms. She was in the same room with two of her ex-boyfriends, their current girlfriends--though she was uncertain as to what was going on between Dawson and Joey--and some random guy she had just met. She felt tense, and the fear of trusting people that Stephen had incited was still strong. "I've gotta to get some air," she announced to the room at large before getting up and climbing out the window. Cloey, standing, put a hand out to stop Dawson from following her. "Hold it, Junior. I'll handle this one." Outside, she found Jen sitting on the roof. "Hey," she said, smiling. "Hey," Jen replied meekly. "You still see him, don't you?" The blonde nodded. "I see him too." She paused, reflecting. "The feeling never quite goes away, but it does lessen. Besides, if there's one thing I'm grateful to Stephen for, it's the knowledge that I can survive anything now. Nothing can be worse than this." Jen laughed, a brittle sound, but a laugh nonetheless. "Well, that's good." "Yep," Cloey said complacently, bouncing slightly. "We have nowhere to go but up." Jen pulled her sweatshirt around herself more tightly. "I hope so," she responded, sighing. "I know so," said Cloey, feeling immensely self-satisfied. "Now let's go back inside before I freeze to death." The next morning… "How's this?" Joey twirled around in a red sweater and long black skirt. "Hmm…" Cloey circled around her, considering. "It's okay for tomorrow afternoon, but evening is another story altogether." Jen entered, wearing a blue plush sweater and suede skirt. "What about this?" "Same problem that Jo has. It's great for the afternoon, but the evening is iffy." Joey frowned. "You know, I really can't see why we have to have this big party at your place. I mean, what's wrong with our little group? Why does it have to be such a big event?" Cloey shrugged, saying, "I can't explain it. It's just a tradition, and it's my turn to throw it. It's out of my hands--a group of my industry friends has been doing whole thing for years. Besides, look at this place," she added, gesturing towards the open door and the stairs below. They were beautifully trimmed with maroon and silver, along with the rest of the house. The effect was breathtaking. "This isn't my kind of Christmas, you know. I'd rather take a little Charlie Brown tree and decorate it with homemade ornaments." She sighed. "Such is life, I guess. I want glitter-and-glue popsicle sticks and I end up with color-coordinated designer glass balls." Joey grinned. "Ooh, poor Clo…life's rough, huh?" "Yes, as a matter of fact it is. Now go and find another outfit!" The three girls giggled, and returned to the closet. Sixty Dresses and Ninety-Six Outfits Later… Pacey and Dawson unloaded the pine from the top of Mr. Leery's Jeep, grunting with exertion. "Oh, boys, that's beautiful!" exclaimed Mrs. Leery as they brought it into the house. "It's perfect." Pacey grimaced. "I hope so, because we're not going back and getting another one." The tree was soon in its rightful spot by the fireplace. Mrs. Leery brought down a box of ornaments from the attic. "There," she said, placing them on the coffee table and wiping the dust off her hands. "Do with them what you will." "I think we'd better wait for the girls," Dawson put in. It was a tradition, or had been until last year, to hang ornaments with Joey. He wasn't about to break it now. As if on cue, Cloey's BMW pulled into the driveway. Out stepped the three radiant-looking ladies, all dressed in designer attire. When the girls got the porch, Dawson opened the front door. "Hey, Jo, ready to decorate?" "You bet," Joey replied as she stepped inside. Christmas Day… The Leerys, Potters, Lindleys, and Pacey (whose family was, once again, conspicuously absent) were sitting around the Leerys' dining room table. Cloey, deep in thought, suddenly felt a hand on her knee. She looked down to see Pacey's warm fingers there. Taking them in her own, she smiled at him. "Hey," she whispered huskily. "Hey yourself," Pacey replied, stroking her palm. They shared an intense glance… "Cloey, would you please pass the dressing?" Joey, sitting across the table, noticed the length of time it took for Cloey to extract her hand from Pacey's and hand the dressing to Mr. Leery. She elbowed Dawson. "Are they always like that?" "Oh, well…yeah," Dawson replied, shrugging. "You kind of don't notice it after a while." Only he knew that he was mostly trying to convince himself. He was still attracted to Cloey, much to his disgust, but he couldn't fight it. However, he knew he could never have her, and tried to make himself accept that. It wasn't easy, though... Shaking his head, he attacked his mashed potatoes, and got involved in a discussion with Bodie about fly fishing. An Hour Later… The families were gathered around the tree, sorting things out. Once everyone had a pile of presents spilling onto the floor in front of them, the fun really began. "Okay, this one's from Pacey," Dawson said, opening his gift. It was a collector's edition E.T. watch. "This is great, man. Thanks." "Glad you like it," Pacey replied as he tore into one of his presents. "And from Miss Josephine…a Nerf gun!" He grinned. "Let me guess…from the Mecca of toys, right?" Joey smiled. "Something like that," she said, opening a large box. "Ohh, this is from Cloey. It's a…makeup organizer?" "You're always complaining about not having your makeup in order backstage. I had my people put together a complete package of everything you'll ever need. It's all in there, all in your colors." "Thanks, sis," Joey exclaimed, still in a state of awe. "You're quite welcome. Me next?" Cloey asked, picking up a small, heavy box. "From…Jen. Ooh, Pôeme! This is my favorite perfume!" She gave her friend a hug. "Thanks, honey. I was running low." Jen shrugged. "You bet." She picked up a gift of her own, reading the label. "From Dawson. It's…a can of pepper spray?" "Just read the note in there later and you'll understand," Dawson interjected. He picked up his gift from Cloey next. Inside was an original E.T. script signed by the cast. "Wow!" he murmured, his jaw hanging open. "Where did you find this?" Cloey shrugged. "Let's just say I know a few people who know a few people." Grinning, she turned to her next gift, a small box from Pacey. Pulling open the top, she found a small heart-shaped locket. "Oh, Pacey," she said softly, awestruck. "Wherever did you get this? It looks just like…" "It is. I made a few calls, and it got here yesterday." Cloey threw her arms around his neck. "You don't know how much this means to me," she told him, her voice tremulous. Tilting her chin up, he kissed her lightly before telling her, "You'll have to show me later." His smirk earned him a playful slap from Cloey. Pretending to wince, he picked up his last gift. It was a small box, which opened to reveal a pair of gold cuff links. "What do I need these for?" he asked, bewildered. "To go with your new Armani. You looked so incredibly handsome in the one you wore for Thanksgiving that I decided you needed to own one." "Clo--" She placed her fingertips over his mouth. "Yes, I should have, and I did. You've done so much for me, Pace, given me so much. These are the kind of things that I can give you, so what's wrong with them?" The only answer she got was a kiss. Dawson, watching the two from afar, felt small stirrings of jealousy in his chest and despised himself for them. Turning to Joey, he handed her a small box. "Go ahead and open it," he urged her. Unwrapping it, she found a small teakwood jewelry box with a beautiful hand-pained lid. "It's gorgeous, Dawson," Joey replied, wide-eyed. Running her hands over the wood, she turned to face him. "Now open yours." Dawson reached down and picked up a large, thin rectangular package. Tearing away the paper, he found a large collage-style drawing. It was composed of sketches of the five friends, some that he recognized from pictures and some that had to be from memory. "You drew all this?" he asked, amazed. Joey blushed, nodding in reply. "We'll have to find someplace to hang this," Dawson told her, kissing her lightly on the cheek. At that moment, Gail stuck her head in from the kitchen. "Okay, gang, sounds like things are winding down. Why don't you clean up?" As the scraps of wrapping paper and ribbons flew, no one noticed the small, wrapped box left on the mantle. Later that evening, at Cloey's house… As the clock struck seven, Dawson, Joey, Jen, and Anderson arrived. Joey was wearing a burgundy strapless that clung to her slender figure while Jen had an emerald green evening gown. Cloey, on her way upstairs to change, told them to wait downstairs. Pacey arrived about a half an hour later, looking very handsome but decidedly self-conscious in his new tuxedo. "Clo called me and told me she had to dress," he explained. "Is she done yet?" Minutes later, Cloey made her grand entrance. Breathtaking in a raw silk silver strapless gown, her hair was expertly curled. Tendrils hung down around her face and cascaded over her bare shoulders, and she wore the locket Pacey had given her earlier that day. Her boyfriend met her eagerly at the bottom of the stairs, all signs of self-consciousness vanished. "You're beautiful," he told her quietly. Cloey smiled softly at his serious tone. "You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, her eyes telling him much more than that. "And I like your cufflinks." "Thank you. Someone very special picked them out," he pakused. "And I think we've been caught." "What do you mean?" "Mistletoe," he answered simply. Cloey laughed in sheer delight. "Well, then…" When they broke apart, she caressed his face gently. "Merry Christmas, Officer Pacey." Guests began to arrive a short while later and Cloey began to work her charm. Soon the party was in full swing, with music and dancing entertaining more famous faces than Pacey had ever seen. After the initial greetings, Cloey insisted on leading Pacey out onto the dance floor. "I told you I don't dance," Pacey protested. "Well, honey, you'll just have to get over that, because I do," she told him firmly, as the music changed from "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" to "Holly Jolly Christmas." "Always the general," he murmured in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist. "Of course." The night went on, with different songs and different partners, until the party finally wound down. Everyone who was anyone had to head back to the airport or their hotel, and after the catering and decorating staff had reestablished order the house was left empty. Cloey, in solitude once again, looked down at her locket after shutting the front door. Unable to shake a giddy grin from her face, she headed upstairs to change. Meanwhile… Dawson and Joey, returning from the party, pulled into the Leerys' driveway exhausted. Making their way to the fireplace to warm up, their conversation was trivial…until Joey noticed a small wrapped box sitting on the mantle. She picked it up. "To Cloey, from Dawson," she read aloud. "Dawson, did you forget to give this to Cloey?" Dawson swore. "I meant to, but I guess I forgot. I'll run over there." "You'd better," Joey told him with a laugh. "After the gift she gave you, it had better be something good." Dawson smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the door. He parked in front of Cloey's house not five minutes later. Running up to the door, a quick glance at his watch told him it was almost midnight. He rang the doorbell and waited. "I'm coming!" Cloey called, running downstairs. Dressed in flannel pajama pants and an old t-shirt, her hair in a loose ponytail, she was a much different picture than that of twenty minutes ago. Opening the door, she was surprised to see Dawson standing there. "Hey there, Junior. Come on in." "Hey, Clo," Dawson said, stepping inside. "I forgot to give you this earlier, and I wanted you to get it before Christmas was through, so I brought it over." Cloey ripped off the wrapping and opened the small black box. Inside was a sterling silver charm bracelet. "Ohh, Dawson…" she exclaimed. "This is wonderful." "I had a charm made for everything that makes you…well, you. Here, let me," he offered, fastening it onto her wrist. "Thanks," she replied with a meek smile. His touch…no, she told herself, don't think about that. "Well, I'd better be going," Dawson said after what Cloey realized must have been an awkward pause. "Wait…" Blushing, Cloey looked upward meaningfully. Dawson chuckled. "Ah, mistletoe." Bending down, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Cloey." "Merry Christmas, Dawson," she replied. As she closed the door, the clock struck twelve.