Previously on Capeside, , Professor Creepy leered at Joey; Chef Danny cheated on his wife with K. Lo and made Pacey feel weird about it; Dawson flaked out on his shrink. Nothing makes sense to him anymore, apparently. Well, that's what he said, anyway.
Boston, somewhere. Jen and Dawson sit on a bench and chat about his upcoming appointment with the psychiatrist. "You're not thinking about chickening out, are you?" Jen asks, sipping her latte. He's not. "I might ditch, but that's something else entirely," he says. Jen smirks, and assures him that therapy isn't so bad. Dawson wonders how just talking about crap solves "everything." Jen shakes her head and tells him that, actually, Freud "considered him himself quite lucky if he could manage to convert hysterical misery into common, everyday unhappiness." Dawson flares his nostrils. "So the goal here is unhappiness?" he asks. Jen nods. "Exactly," she says. Dawson looks less than thrilled, so Jen swiftly dismisses Freud as "dumb," what with the whole penis-envy thing and all. Dawson grins. "I love College Jen," he says. "I feel like I'm in a French movie." Jen sort of shakes her head and brings the conversation back to Dawson, telling him that therapy "isn't bad," and that the majority of people could benefit from some face time with a shrink. Dawson wonders if she didn't feel weird, talking about her issues with a total stranger. Jen shrugs and tells him that it wasn't any weirder than blabbering "to no one, over the radio." Jen has a radio show now? Where have I been? Oh, right, curled up in the fetal position in the corner, rocking back and forth and singing "I don't want to wait" over and over again under my breath. Dawson swears that he, at least, listens to her show. "You and Grams," she says. Dawson sighs and stares off into the distance. "Thank you for doing this with me," he tells her. "Any time," she replies. They smile at each other. I have to admit, these two aren't that bad with each other. I'd almost call them cute, if I didn't have a cold, dead heart fashioned from stone and steel.
Credits. Excuse me, I have to get into that corner I was talking about.
Worthington: Turning Girls Into Women. Joey's studying on her bed, while Audrey, in the doorway, rips a video camera out of some poor guy's hands. "Love you, mean it!" she shouts, and slams the door in his face. Joey looks up. "How come your film geek looks like Tom Cruise and mine looks like the kid who didn't want to go to the dance in Sixteen Candles?" Audrey asks. Which film geek is this? Surely, she doesn't mean Dawson. Does she? Nah. Joey mumbles that Audrey should be nicer to "George," since "he'll be famous one day." Audrey rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she says. "All I know is, I practically had to sleep with him to get him to loan me his digital video camera." Joey sifts through the piles of paper on her bed and asks distractedly why Audrey needs a video camera. Porn seems to be the unspoken accusation. "My audition tape. Real World Ibiza, here I come!" Audrey grins. Joey chuckles, as Audrey wonders which tone she ought to take in said video: "Vamp, vixen, or all-out slut?" Joey raises a brow and is relieved that at least Audrey is trying to represent "all colors of the rainbow." Audrey shrugs, and asks what Joey's up to, what with all the stuff in her bed. Joey groans that she has another meeting of The Rose Lazar Fact-Finding Committee, also known as The Project Professor Wilder Made Up To Get Into The Pants Of His Undergraduate Students. Joey mutters that she's really behind. She needs "footnotes for the footnotes" of the stuff she's reading. Audrey doesn't care about all that school-y stuff; she wants to know what Joey plans to wear. Joey doesn't care what she wears. "Okay, and where would Madonna be if she had that attitude?" Audrey asks, flinging open Joey's closet door and flipping through her garments. Joey should, I think, try to be more like Madonna. You know, wear a "Motherfucker" shirt to Professor Creepy's class, dance around campus with a bunch of cowboys, demonstrate a blowjob on an Evian bottle in the cafeteria. She'd get a lot more dates, anyway. But no. Instead, Joey's muttering about all the juniors and seniors on the RLFFC. "They're dropping names so fast and furiously, they're practically leaving dents in the carpets." Oooooh, I feel so sorry for poor little motherless Joey Potter! It's so hard when your neighbor pays for your entire college education at a hoity-toity liberal arts college, where you're handpicked -- as a freshman! -- to work on a project as unusual and interesting as this one! Is it wrong that I'm jealous of a fictional academic undertaking? Don't answer that. "[Professor Creepy] knows I'm an idiot," Joey moans. "Why would he even bother picking me for something like this?" Audrey rolls her eyes. "Please!" she squeals. "Because you're hot! And he's a teacher. And don't tell me you didn't consider that a possibility." Audrey says this like it's a good thing. Rather than deeply gross, against the code of conduct at most universities, verging on sexual harassment, and -- did I mention gross? At least partially because Professor Creepy is deeply miscast in this role. And it's not like Hollywood is going through some sort of horrible hottie drought; there are plenty of more mesmerizing-looking men who could play a dreamy college professor. Like Jude Law, say. Although Jude Law guesting on Dawson's Creek is one of the signs of the apocalypse. Joey mutters that she didn't come to college to be considered "a piece of meat." "So, you'd rather be a brain in a jar?" Audrey asks. I don't understand why you can't be a sexy brain in a jar, but I'm clearly out of the loop. "Then I wouldn't have to worry about what to wear," Joey sasses. Audrey flings an outfit on Joey's bed and smiles at her.
Liberty Hell, the birthplace of Civilization. See what I did there? Shut up. Anyway, it's the restaurant's anniversary or some shit, and Chef Danny feels bad because he's making Pacey stay in the kitchen, slaving over crepes all night, instead of allowing him to come to the party. Pacey is like Cinderella, and Chef Danny is his evil stepmother. His evil, possibly gay stepmother. Hey, I'd watch that show. Anyway, there's some cooking talk that I'm going to just gloss over because I'm not getting paid to recap Yan Can Cook. It's all blah blah caramelize blah blah asparagus blah blah Chef Danny is not the owner of Liberty Hell. Oh, whoops, that was exposition in there, hidden amongst all the yammering. Apparently, he's, like, the second in command. For a while, he lived at the restaurant. Literally. For months at a time. "That has got to be hell on a marriage," Pacey says. "Speaking of, is Emily going to be here tomorrow?" Chef Danny makes an anguished and guilty face and admits that she can't make it. Oh, and did I mention that K. Lo was in that scene, too? Yeah, there was a reason I didn't. And the reason is that she's boring and I hate her. In fact, I'm boycotting her. Nevermore shall the name Karen Torres -- or any variation thereof -- pass my lips. Fingers. You know.
Oh, God, Dawson's in therapy. Trust me, therapy is a very good thing. I am pro-therapy. But do I want to sit here with my bowl of Cheetos and my box of Milk Duds and my copy of Diet for a Small Planet and listen to anyone talk about themselves for an entire episode? Other than, you know, Tony Soprano? No. No, I do not. Dawson's Miracle Therapist is played by the chick who was Jennifer Love Hewitt's sassy and obnoxious apartment manager on Time of Your Life (thanks to our own lovely Heathen for pointing this out to me, because I spent most of this scene wondering where I'd seen said obnoxious blonde before). I must warn you, however, that she looks far younger than the Beek in this scene, and is also really, really irritating. If I didn't have my hands full with the Embargo against She Who Will Not Be Named, I'd boycott her too. Dawson tells Dr. Annoying that she doesn't look the way he imagined. "What did you expect?" Dr. Annoying rasps. "Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting? Or Judd Hirsch in a big sweater?" Dawson just shifts uncomfortably in his chair and says that he wants to "do this right." Dr. Annoying assures him that he is. She asks why he's coming to see her. "Panic attacks. And I know they're my way of dealing with my father's death," Dawson begins. He says some other stuff, which I am unable to recap, having fallen into a COMA of BOREDOM. Like, Dawson doesn't already talk about himself enough, they had to send him to a therapist? Sweet Jesus. Anyway, he's yada yada mid-life crisis blah blah USC blee blee family. "I don't know what I want," Dawson says. "I think I'm frozen between the past and the future." Dr. Annoying tells him something about the brain not being set up to deal with a sudden loss like the death of the Flash, and then says some other things that I missed because of aforesaid coma. Something about lying to yourself, and how the "only problem is when you start convincing yourselves that the lies are true." I'm not really sure where that specific piece of advice came from, either. Seriously, I came out of the coma on, like, Tuesday morning and rewound and watched this scene again and that whole lies/convincing/true bit came out of nowhere. Also, Dr. Annoying? Amanda Woodward called, and she wants her roots back.
Rose Lazar Fact-Finding Mission, where Joey and some older English-major-type students yammer about these letters they've been reading. Well, the older English-major-types yammer; Joey squishes herself in the corner of the sofa and looks lost. Her makeup looks excellent in this scene, however. One of the students, a "Cassandra," tosses around Anaïs Nin and Sappho and Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Joey looks even more confused. Professor Creepy turns to her, naturally, and does the stereotypical Caressing His Brandy Snifter As Though It Were One Of Joey's Nubile Breasts thing and asks her what she thinks the big difference is between these letters, and all the other ones they've read. "Well, for starters, they're interesting," Joey says, and all the other students chuckle patronizingly at the freshman. She has one question, though: "Who's I.V.?" Professor Creepy nods. "That's the question," he says. No one has any idea to whom this specific clutch of letters was written. Even though they're all intimate! And revealing! It's like, um, you know, those Shakespearean sonnets that were written for some mysterious dude? Remember that? It's sort of like that. "So, it's a mystery. Cool!" Cassandra chirps. "Like Derrida's Postcard. For real! Don't you think so, Joey?" Joey furrows her brow. "I would, if I had any idea who you were talking about," she says. Everyone laughs and laughs. Ah, Derrida: bane of lit crit students everywhere. I'd tell you about the quarter I took Post-Modern Lit and my roommate took Literary Criticism III, and we both basically lost our minds, spending long hours walking around the apartment saying things like "huh?" and "wha?" and "I want to die," and how, during Dead Week, I took to studying with my feet in the kitchen sink because that's the only place I could concentrate, but I'm trying to bury my bookish past. Wilder asks them to think about who might have written the letters, and to come to the meeting with "many, many ideas." Joey looks stressed.
Liberty Hell. Pacey chops. She Who Shall Not Be Recapped comes galloping up to the kitchen and manages to bring the conversation around to Pacey's Mysterious Vanishing Girlfriend, Melanie. Pacey mutters about her very busy law student life, and continues chopping. Does this mean they broke up? Because he didn't exactly say that. SWSNBR cracks that Pacey probably could have gotten a lot of good use out of a lawyer in the family. Anti-banter. Anti-banter. Finally, SWSNBR offers to set Pacey up with one of her "hot friends," but he demurs. "Hey, what have you done with Pacey?" she asks him, after a series of irritated grunts from Mr. Witter. "He used to be such a lovable gallump." Pacey hems and haws and finally tells her that he knows about her affair with Chef Danny. "So, what? He told you?" SWSNBR bitches. "He didn't tell me, it's my boat," Pacey reminds her. He complains that he really hates having to lie to Mrs. Chef Danny, and tells Karen that what she's doing is wrong! Wrong! Wrong! SWSNBR purses her lips and huffs and puffs and tells Pacey that he's deeply immature and needs to mind his own business. She stomps off. Pacey chops furiously. Much as I hate to be mean to Pacey, whom I generally quite like, he really ought to try staying out of this. Because the buttinski act never ends well.
Casa Leery, where Dawson and Gale walk around the lawn and don't talk about his foray into mental health. She assures him that, "eventually," things will get back to normal. "Were things ever normal around here?" Dawson asks. Gale shrugs, as an SUV pulls onto the lawn. It's the Leery Lawyer, bearing papers. The three of them go onto the porch and go over life insurance and wills and whatnot, and it turns out that there's a problem with The Flash's living trust: Lily isn't mentioned. The lawyer assures Gale and the Head that this isn't a big deal, but they ought to look around for a codicil to the trust. Having everything in order will make things easier for them, he says. Dawson looks stricken, but I honestly don't see why this is such a big deal; Lily is a minor, and Gale's in charge of providing for her, anyway. What difference would it make if Gale takes her portion of the trust and gives some to the baby?
Joey and Professor Creepy walk though the Worthington campus, talking about the Rose Lazar Project. Joey muses that the Non-I.V. letters read like Rose was writing to someone who was grading her. "You can't be at ease with someone giving you a grade?" Professor Creepy wonders. Ew. "No. Or at least, you shouldn't be," Joey says. That's my girl. Professor Creepy tells her that I.V. could be a "teacher or a mentor," as Rose was "quite young" when the letters were written. Like, say, Joey's age. Joey shakes her head. She thinks the letters were written to a friend. "Cassandra's torrid lesbian idea?" Professor Creepy asks. Joey doesn't think so; if they were love letters, she says, they'd be less honest. "People can be friends, best friends. But as soon as sexual attraction comes into it, all bets are off as far as honesty is concerned," she says. Do you think that means something in the greater scheme of things? Because I'm not sure I get it. Professor Creepy asks Joey if she doesn't believe that people can be "friends and lovers." Again: ew. "I hope I do," Joey says. "But not at eighteen." Professor Creepy nods, and instructs her to "concentrate on the friend angle." Joey frowns that she doesn't even know where to start. "Sure you do," he tells her. "Where do people make their most lasting friendships? And don't say high school." Joey looks up at him and crinkles her nose. "College," she says. And where did Rose "Just Like Joey" Lazar go to college? Worthington. "Which means her friends…?" Creepy prompts. "Probably went here, too," Joey says. "Why are you helping me?" she asks him. Um, because he's her TEACHER? No: "Let's just say I like underdogs," Professor Creepy tells her. "Also, I'd like to nail you immediately."
Dawson frantically searches Casa Leery for the Unimportant Codicil and makes pained and constipated faces. Gale watches him pore through drawers and shelves and eventually tells him to stop looking; he's scaring her. "You found it, didn't you?" Dawson asks. The codicil was stuck into the Stephen King novel on the Flash's nightstand. Unsigned, of course. "Your father was a lot of things, but he wasn't good with details," Gale sighs. Dawson flares his nostrils.
Joey hip-hops her way over to the old library, where she finds that the yearbooks for which she was looking have already been removed from the shelf. By literary-name-dropper Cassandra. Who is, by the way, rather nice. She's left-handed, like me! She grins at Joey from her desk near the stacks and calls that they must have had the same idea. "Got any theories yet?" she asks Joey, who slides into the seat across from her. Joey offers that I.V. might be Rose's roommate. Cassandra shakes her head; at one point, Rose called the roommate small-minded. "Would you bare your soul to someone small-minded?" Cassandra wonders. Joey guesses not. Cassandra smiles and shrugs and tells Joey that it's okay they had the same idea. "It's all just an excuse to be around Professor Wilder anyway," she grins. Joey sort of smiles back as Cassandra pushes the yearbooks to her side of the table.
Boat. The delightful Pacey Witter. The Object Of The Embargo. SWSNBR apologizes for the whole "mind your own beeswax" bit. "It's okay. I wasn't exactly Prince Charming, either," Pacey admits, grinning. You Know Who tells him that it wasn't fair of them to "put [Pacey] in the middle." He just looks at her. She admits that she got sort of "defensive and judgmental," and Pacey grins and gestures for her to sit, and takes a seat to her. SWSNBR muses that Pacey reminds her of Chef Danny. "I remind you of a guy who could cheat on his wife?" Pacey asks. She Who Shall Remain Nameless corrects him, saying that Chef Danny wasn't exactly cheating on Emily when they hopped in the sack; Emily had walked out on him because he spent too much time at the restaurant. But Chef Danny saved the restaurant, Pacey says. SWSNBR agrees that he did, and tells Pacey that Chef Danny has an "infectious idealism" that Pacey also has. At this, Pacey grins and asks her if she'd like to "come inside." SWSNBR shakes her head. "No. I came to say I'm sorry, and now that I have, I should probably go home." Pacey nods. "Good night, [name removed due to boycott]," he says. "Good night, Pacey," SWSNBR says, and walks off into the night. Pacey sits on the deck without a coat and freezes.
Grams Doesn't Live Here Anymore. Dawson and Jen sit at the kitchen table and talk about the afternoon he just spent talking about himself. He tells her that he really likes Dr. Annoying, and that she wants him to come three times a week. Jen tells Dawson that "that's good." He cocks a brow in her direction. "Good? My lack of mental health is good?" Jen chirps that she merely meant she'd get to see him more often. Dawson sort of smiles at this, then tells Jen all about The Unimportant Legal Snafu Du Jour, which Jen rightly dismisses as a minor problem. "It's not [a big deal]. It can't be," she assures him. Dawson natters some more about how it's just not an ideal situation, and Jen interrupts him and informs him that he's "hanging onto the wrong thing." Dawson wonders if his mother is right, if his father just wasn't good with details. Well, we certainly know that he wasn't good at multi-tasking. "He just made a mistake, Dawson," Jen tells him gently. Dawson grumbles that he never said the Flash was perfect. Jen makes a thoughtful face. "You're so afraid to get mad at him," she says. Dawson replies that getting mad at the Flash isn't going change anything. "But it might change you," Jen points out. "And call me crazy, but I think that's the point of therapy." I thought the point of therapy was to get Dawson into Boston constantly.
Audrey, Audrey, Bo-Baudrey and The Tape That Launched A Thousand Ships. She wants Joey's opinion about which version she ought to send to Bunim and Murray. Joey's running late, but Audrey pleads and whines and tells her it'll just take a sec. Joey's like, fine, and sits down to watch the section Audrey has cued up, in which Audrey talks earnestly about her mom, and how much she sucks. "What fourteen-year-old wants to fend for themselves like an adult?" Videotape Audrey asks. "But I have to forgive her, I know that. Because forgiving her is the only way I've ever going to be good to anyone else." Blah blah, Audrey is terrified that she's turning into her mom. I hate to break it to her, but it happens to the best of us. I drive past the local high school on my way to work, and, even though it's freezing right now, all the girls are wearing flip-flops and the boys are wearing shorts, and I actually sat in my car yesterday in a turtleneck and boots and said, ALOUD, to MYSELF, "Crazy kids." Because I am MY MOTHER. It's somewhat horrifying. Anyway. Audrey continues. She worries that she's "loud and shameless and bossy," and that she freaks people out. "But I don't think that I can change that. Because even if I don't particularly like who I am, at least I know what that is. And if I tried to change, who the hell knows who I'd be?" Joey makes a face like a light bulb went off over her head and leaps up and starts for the door, telling Audrey that she thinks that's the one. Audrey dubs it "cheesy and vulnerable," but Joey thinks it represents "the real Audrey." She races out that door, but turns back for a sec to assure Audrey that she's nothing like Sue Ellen Mishkie. Audrey grins widely. "Bye!" she squeals. I can't believe people actually still want to go on The Real World.
Liberty Hell Party Of The Year. It's going to be really tough to recap this without mentioning You Know Who, especially since this scene opens with Chef Danny telling her that she looks fantastic. "I'm so glad I hired you," he creeps. This Person, by the way, doesn't look particularly fantastic. The actress is pretty and all, but the dress is way too tight around the belly. I mean, God knows I'm not the spokeswoman for the Ab Roller or anything, but nor am I wearing a shiny, clingy black-and-white fishscale-y looking dress. Chef Danny and This Person dance away, all cheerfully adulterous. "Hey, Emily," Pacey yells, suddenly. Chef Danny and You Know Who jump away from each other to reveal The Wife. She's perky as can be, even though she manages to work in the plot point that Danny's devotion to the restaurant "almost ruined" their marriage. Chef Danny smiles at this and whirls her off in his arms. You Know Who's face falls. Pacey asks if she's okay. "What do you know? You probably called her," SWSNBR bitches. Pacey just looks off at Chef Danny and The Wife. "I know you thought tonight was going to be your date with destiny," Pacey tells You Know Who, "but I'm just trying to be your friend." She Who Shall Not Be Named says something about how she already knows that married men never leave their wives for young hussies who work in their restaurants. Pacey just looks tired and pained.
Therapy. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. At one point, Dr. Annoying takes off her glasses to lean in to make some allegedly salient point. I take that back; she does it, like, twelve times. "Just because [the Flash] died, doesn't mean he gets to win the argument," she tells Dawson, in re: USC. Dawson admits that he's really mad at the Flash. Yes. Because that's one of the stages of grief. Duh. Dr. Annoying does a whole lot of validating of Dawson's feelings and tells him that it's time for him to decide what to do with his own life. "What if I don't know?" Dawson moans. "That's fine, too," Dr. Annoying says, "although, personally, I think you do know." Dawson makes his My Internal Monologue Fascinates Me! Face, and Dr. Annoying sticks herself in the eye with the left arm of her glasses.
Liberty Hell. Pacey emerges from the kitchen, all gussied up in a pretty blue dress shirt. She Who Shall Not Be Named sulks at the bar and watches Chef Danny and The Wife dance. "Hey, Pacey, what do you want?" she asks. He tells her that he forgot to mention that she looks "amazing." You Know Who grimaces and asks him if he ever wished he was someone else. "Yeah," Pacey tells him, "Harrison Ford, Raiders of the Lost Ark." You and me both, Pacey. That Person tells him that she didn't mean anyone specific; she means just someone else. Anyone else. Pacey looks thoughtful. "Well, I'm 'Scott,'" he tells her. "And you are?" That Person casts around for a fictional name and finally comes up with "Marie." Pacey tells her that she's the "most jaw-droppingly beautiful woman in the room." He extends his arm; they hit the dance floor. She Who Shall Not Be Recapped watches as her lovah dances with his wife. She's looking angrier and angrier by the moment. "You know, just calm down, [You Know Who]," Pacey says. She snaps that she wants to talk to Chef Danny! Pacey restrains her, gently. "What would you say to him? Seriously, what would you say?" Pacey asks. He is so too good for This Person, who just drops her jaw and stares at him like an open-mouthed bass.
Joey arrives at Wilder's House Of Misguided Undergraduate Women. Cassandra is talking about how she thinks the mysterious I.V. was also a writer, because "besides sex," all Rose writes about is writing. Joey "strongly agrees." But her theory is that Rose was writing to herself. "Like a journal, or a diary, or a confessional," she says, pointing out that the letters didn't come with envelopes, and didn't contain any small talk. "The only person [Rose] was brave enough to share that with was herself," she says. Everyone is silent for a moment, and Joey supposes that they all think she's an idiot. "No, Joey Potter," Professor Creepy says, "I think that hush you're hearing is five people simultaneously asking themselves, 'Why didn't I think of that?'" Joey grins and blushes, and Cassandra looks on her kindly. You heard it here first: The Real World can help you with your homework, and might land you an allegedly hot -- albeit scary -- professional-type man!
Apres meeting, Joey follows Professor Creepy around the house and helps him clean. Where are the illustrious wife and kids he mentioned in this season's first episode, I wonder? Perhaps he locks them in the attic when he has his students over for academic foreplay. Anyway, he's talking to Joey about, like, Kafka or something, but she doesn't want to talk about actual books. "Do you really think I was right about those letters?" she asks. He does, and he's not surprised, he says. Because freshmen have fresh brains. And supple, nubile breasteses. Professor Creepy says something about how college takes "open minds" and, like, closes them. Which I think is the opposite of what college does, but whatever. "I never pegged you for such a hardcore cynic," Joey says, picking up a wine glass. Creepy tells her that he's not. But, he explains, sometimes, when people get to college, they feel so insecure that they "race to catch up" with everyone, instead of "slowing down to learn." Joey looks thoughtful. "If you can feel uncomfortable not knowing, than you can learn anything. Anything," Professor Creepy tells her. Joey admits that she had been feeling insecure. "Thanks for choosing me to be on this project," she grins. "Thank you for sticking with it," he tells her, taking a pile of plates and heading to the bedroom to make sweet, sweet love to her. I mean, "to the kitchen." As they walk, Joey asks him who Derrida is. "He's the Darth Maul of the literature universe," Professor Creepy tells her. I don't get that. Seriously. I barely even remember Darth Maul, except for the part where Ewan "My Boyfriend" McGregor chops him in half. Or was that Liam Neeson? See? Not a good analogy.
Elsewhere, Dawson sits in his car and listens to Jen's radio show, WBCW on your FM dial. She's making a dedication, she says. "This one goes out to a very old friend. Who's seen me at my best. And at my worst. And who, one night at Mercer Pond, got a pretty good view of me in nothing at all." She presses a button to play REM's "Nightswimming." Which is, by the way, a great song. Dawson smiles and listens to the music, as we're treated to a flashback of the time he and Jen went skinny-dipping, like a million years ago before I was all old and bitter and shit. Young Dawson and Jen splash each other and laugh, as the College Jen sits in the studio and looks thoughtful and Orphan Dawson sits in his SUV and smiles thoughtfully. Somewhere in Boston, the only other person listening, Grams, is appalled that Dawson has seen Jennifah in her all-together. But just between you and me, that scene? Actually pretty nice.
Audrey and Joey lie in bed and talk. Aw, that reminds me of when I was in college, and my two roommates and I used to lie in our beds and bitch about the boys in our lives and talk about the meaning of life and the purpose of love and whatnot, and then one day the nice grad student who lived across the alley way told us that she could hear all of our conversations, and she then asked me how I was doing, getting over the boyfriend of the moment. She asked in a nice way, though. She really cared! Anyway, we all talked more quietly after that. I miss those days. Sort of. While the girl talk was a good thing, three girls in a one bedroom apartment got a little cramped sometimes. ANYWAY. Joey and Audrey are talking. Right. "You really got the idea from my tape?" Audrey asks, grinning into her pillow. Joey assures her that she did. "And was Wilder impressed?" Joey thinks so. "How impressed?" Audrey asks, lasciviously. "Audrey!" Joey squeals. Audrey purrs that Joey was at Professor Creepy's awfully late. "Audrey, please shut up," Joey asks. Audrey points out that Creepy "obviously" thinks that Joey is "special." "I just don't care at all," Joey insists. Audrey flicks out the light, and they both stare happily at the ceiling.
Over on the other end of town, Pacey brings She Who Shall Not Be Named several bags of leftovers. "I figured it was my turn to come visit you," he tells her. The Person takes the food and lets Pacey inside. She has the nicest apartment on a waitress's salary, ever. Other than Monica Gellar, natch. "I hate you for making me say this, but thank you," The Person says. "For trying to save me when I told you not to." She realizes that she needs to break it off with Adulterous Chef Danny, because he's obviously not going to break it off with The Wife, she says. So, they're looking at the food and chattering about how SWSNBR needs to, like, not sleep with her boss when the phone rings. It is, of course, Chef Danny, who starts wailing into the machine. "Hey, it's me," he starts. "So, you left. Um. I can't say I'd blame you blah blah my life is so complicated blah blah you just want to punch me in the face blah blah. I love you Karen, I really do, in ways big and small. I never want you to get hurt," he says. And She Who Shall Not Be Recapped picks up the phone. Pacey quietly takes his leave of her. This plot! Dear God, why don't you just send me back into the coma? At least I'd get some rest!
Casa Leery. Gale's sitting on the sofa, staring at the fire, when Dawson comes in. She hands him a piece of mail. Yeah, he's won a film festival. That the Flash entered him in. Without telling him. "He wasn't very good with little details, but he always believed in you," Gale muses. Dawson stares ahead and tells her that he's not going back to USC. "Okay," Gale tells him. She knows he "has his reasons" for leaving. And she tells him that he would have won the Flash over eventually. "Under all the bluster and concern, he knew it was your decision to make," she tells Dawson, who plops down on the sofa to her. "I miss him," he says. "So do I," Gale says. They stare into the fire. "I loved him, you know?" Dawson tells her. "Me, too," Gale says. The Piano Of Dawson Can Forgive His Dad Now That The Flash Managed -- From Beyond The Grave! -- To Win Dawson A Prize tinkles in the background. "Yeah," Dawson sighs, as his mother rests her head on the Beek's shoulder.
week: The world goes blind.