The funny thing about writing dreams was that even after two hundred years, it was still fun. Two centuries ago his mentor had said, "The imagination, dear boy, is limitless."

Ryan, naturally suspicious, had assumed he would run out of ideas some time. Yet here he was, bending and twisting his mind, stretching and reaching, climbing into ever more subtle manipulations of the subconscious. He was at the height of his career, and he'd barely just begun.

He was disappointed in the church. It looked like most of the other weddings he'd done, white, full of flowers. The candlelight was a nice touch, usually people wanted bright lights so they could see the bride's dress, but tonight the chapel was just glowing softly, as though it was trapped within a cloud.

Yes, the setting was common, but the characters were so delightful that they more than made up for it. Friendship, put on the line for a woman. Another friendship, put on the line for a man. And Andruse had done a perfectly spectacular job of lurring the Linly girl in. He could see her now, sweating under her make-up and fat suit.

Yeah, if these kids lived up to their emotional potential, Ryan wouldn't have to worry about the cliched concept.

Jen squirmed and adjusted the cuffs of her robe. It was awfully hot in here and she wanted to look her best when she tackled Joey to the ground and beat her senseless before claiming Dawson for her own.

She glanced at Dawson. When had he ever been anything but gentl? No, she wouldn't tackle Joey, she'd just calmly shove her aside and then explain to Dawson why she was a much better choice.

She smiled. He looked so beautiful in the soft light. He really was perfect, wasn't he?

Dawson was beginning to think this had been a huge mistake.

The wedding was set to begin any second and he had yet to see Joey. The church was so dim, he could barely make out the priest standing a few feet to his left. The lack of light made him feel nervous and suspicious, as if somebody was trying to hide something from him, and he was already tense enough.

To begin with, what if Joey picked Pacey? He already suspected that she would; intuition or maybe just long years of friendship said so. After all, he'd had his chance, and it hadn't worked out between them.

Even more disturbing was the dawning realization that he wasn't sure he wanted her back. There were aspects of his relationship with Joey that had been beautiful and sweet beyond comparison, but the truth was that even if Joey hadn't broken up with him, things would have fallen apart soon enough. She found his introspection annoying, he often felt barred from the deepest parts of her. They just had more to offer each other as friends.

So what the hell was he doing putting everything on the line to win her back?

He glanced at Pacey. They'd been friends for so long, and sometimes Pacey's light heart was the last barrier between Dawson and a life of muddled psychobabble. He knew when to kick back and give in to not understanding.

Dawson wasn't sure he wanted to compromise Pacey's place in his life for a relationship he no longer wanted. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he could take another rejection, either.

This is nuts, Pacey thought. This has been nuts since Ryan first showed up and it keeps getting nuttier and nuttier.

He knew what was going to happen. Joey was going to walk down the isle, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her before, and be confronted with an impossible choice. On one path, a boy she was madly in love with. On the other, a friend she couldn't bear to shatter.

And her picking Pacey would shatter Dawson. His entire self-image was riding on this night.

Joey would pick Dawson, because she couldn't bare to hurt him, because she had that kind of heart.

The doors of the church sanctuary swung open and Joey stepped out onto the satin carpet. Her dress fell long and beautiful, with a full skirt and yards of nineteenth century lace. Ryan was at her arm, dressed impeccably and oozing sex appeal.

Pacey stared at her as she began the long walk toward him and shook his head. This could only end badly.

"What's going on?" Joey whispered, as the doors opened and Ryan carefully turned her.

"Just walk," he hissed. His hand was on the small of her back and she couldn't help flushing. His touch just had that kind of effect.

"It's a church!" she gasped moments later. "Why are we in a chruch?"

"You're getting married," he replied.

"To who?"

Ryan's smooth lips split into a smile. "Whoever you choose."

Now the stage came into focus and Joey's breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. On either side of a fat priest stood Pacey and Dawson, each wearing the most splendid tuxedo she had ever seen. Dawson's hair had been allowed to dry naturally and was curling over his ears, Pacey's had been slicked back to reveal his soft, goofy smile.

Only he wasn't smiling now. He looked deadly serious, and Joey felt herself tense. She still hadn't told him how she felt, hadn't said anything really honest, and all their encounters had occured in strange, other-worldly dreams. What if she woke up after marrying him and found that their night-life was just that, restricted to the night?

"Is this a dream?" she asked.

Ryan's smile continued to play over his lips. "Yes, but you're the only one dreaming. The boys are awake."

Shit. "Does that mean they'll remember whatever happens?"

"Yes."

There was Dawson, standing on the priest's left. He looked so...desperate. Desperate for her love.

"This is really sick," she hissed, suddenly buzzed with anger. "Pitting them against each other like this. It's cruel."

"It was Dawson and Pacey's idea," Ryan responded evenly. "Yell at them."

Dawson and Pacey? How could they? Didn't they realize that none of them would ever be the same after tonight?

Joey stopped at the split in the satin pathway. Ryan halted beside her. "What happens now?" she asked.

The priest stepped forward. He was a fat, bobbling old man, on the short side, and Joey's first thought as she saw him totter on the steps leading to the stage was that he was drunk. Either that or wearing shoes several sizes too small.

"You must choose your groom," the priest said.

He had a funny voice, crooked and oddly familiar. Joey couldn't place it, but she thought that maybe she had met him before.

She glanced at Pacey. The memory of their dream together from earlier in the night came back, the tenderness with which he had drawn pleasure from her body. She melted inside, meeting his eyes hesitantly only to find his gaze gentle.

She looked at Dawson. He was so hopeful. He wanted her so much, and there was so much fear in his face, that he would loose her and mean nothing alone.

"I can't do this," she said.

"You must," the priest replied. "A choice must be made, or hearts will remain painfully in limbo."

They all glanced curiously at the priest, who made a slight shrug and stepped back.

"But how can I choose?" Joey asked, ignoring the pause. "I care about both of you so much, I don't want either of you to get hurt."

"Somebody always gets hurt," the priest said. "It's the way of the universe."

Joey shook her head. "This is so rotten, I can't believe you two came up with it," she said, looking at the guys.

"It was my idea," Pacey said quickly. "Dawson just wanted to give you a nice wedding dream. I was the one who insisted that we both be present."

"But I went along with it," Dawson added. "I....I love you, Joey. I know we can work things out, as long as you love me, too."

She sighed miserably and turned away. Ryan turned with her, almost as if he'd known she was going to move before she did. Lowering his voice so that only the two of them could hear, he said, "Let me give you some advice."

"Like I'm going to take suggestions from you," Joey snapped. "You're the one responsible for all this."

"On the contrary, if you had given Pacey a dream that didn't involve performing a sexual undalation atop him, I doubt you ever would have discovered how he feels about you."

"It's still your fault, because you're the one who decided to use waking people. You could have just left things so that we would all have forgotten in the morning."

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked. She glared at him. "Never mind, just let me point out one thing that might help you make your decision. This isn't just about you, Joey. Other people are involved. You have to make the decision that will be right for all of you."

"Don't relieve the pressure or anything," she muttered, crossing her arms over the front of the silk dress.

She stared at the floor and thought hard. Her hands clenched wrinkles into the fabric of the dress and she bit her lip until it was obvious that she only had one choice, and making the other would be cruel to them all.

Turning back, she lifted her face and took a deep breath.

"Dawson," she said. "You've been my best friend for years. You're funny and sweet and romantic, and you think my body is the pinnicle of perfection. You make me feel good about myself, and that's something almost nobody else in this town can do.

"Pacey....You've been a good, if annoying, friend. You know what's important in the world and what we can ignore. You're sensible. You can make sex feel like something else entirely, make me get all weak and profound and let go of myself. You make me feel good about the person I'm becoming.

"But..." She took another deep breath. "Dawson needs me. As crazy and weird and incredible as this thing between you and me is, he needs me more than you do. I know you'll survive, your self-estiem will be okay. You'll find another girl, or another woman. Dawson won't. Dawson doesn't need just anybody, he needs me. So, I have to choose him."

She turned and slowly lifted her hand out to Dawson. His eyes grew as if he was afraid to believe, and he reached out to clasp her hand in his own. Resigned, she stepped up to the alter, Dawson at her side.

This isn't happening, Jen thought. I've got to do something!

Joey had tears running down her face, smearing the carefully applied make-up. She bunched the skirt of her dress with one hand so she wouldn't trip over it as she mounted the steps to Dawson's alter.

Behind the alter was a curtain that Jen knew led backstage. If she could somehow get Dawson back there for a minute, talk to him in private where she could make him understand, maybe he would realize that he was wanted, and not by Joey.

Ryan stepped forward and laid two pearl rings on the alter top. He met Jen's eyes and nodded, gesturing subtly to the ceremony taped to top of the alter.

Jen stared down at the words, her vision blurring until she couldn't make them out. "Dearly beloved," she said, guessing at what the ceremony might include. "We are gathered here today-"

She stopped. She couldn't do it. She had to tell Dawson how she felt about him.

Lifting her face, she reached up to pull the latex wrinkle-mask off and was interupted when Pacey suddenly said, "No."

Joey and Dawson twisted to look at him, and Jen's hand dropped to the table-top, limp with relief.

"It's done," Joey said, speaking calmly to Pacey. "I've made my decision."

He took two longs steps off the raised alter and landed on the church floor in front of her. "Well, your decision sucks. You can't marry Dawson."

"But he-" she began.

Pacey cut her off. "You're doing it for all the wrong reasons."

"I'm doing it because it's what is right for him."

"No, you're doing it because these dreams have you all mixed up, and you don't know what's going on any more. I know you were shocked during that dream the other night, when I started talking about how I felt, but I was shocked tonight when...when you said my name. And now you're confused because Dawson's written a sweet wedding dream for you, and you feel obligated to pick the politically-correct wedding dream instead of the kinky sex dream."

Whoa, Jen thought. How long has this been going on?

Joey was stepping unconsciously toward the steps, as if her body was determined to run to Pacey's arms. Dawson was holding onto the alter top for strength, and Jen knew that if he just moved another foot or so to the left, she'd be able to tug him backstage.

"You're confused," Joey shot back. "You think that just because we had some great subconscious sex it means we're destined to be together-"

"Joey," Pacey said, almost like a warning. "Joey, I have been in love with you for the last seven months. Ever since we did that science project together. And I've had plenty of sexual dreams about you. The only thing different about these past two nights has been that I knew you were really there."

Jen watched Joey sputter with one eye and Dawson stumble a few inches closer to the curtain with the other.

"But th-" Joey tried to say.

"No," Pacey snapped, striding heroically forward. "I love you, Joey. When we're awake, when we're asleep, when I'm with you, when I'm not; when we're both dead, I will still love you. That's the way it is, and you marrying Dawson out of pity isn't going to help any of us."

Ryan, Jen noticed, looked elated. He really seemed to be enjoying this.

Dawson took another step back, and Jen saw her opportunity.

Joey started to cry when she realized what Pacey was saying. This was real. It was real and he felt it and it was going to kill Dawson.

His eyes clung to hers. She moved to leap off the stage and into his embrace, and then heard Dawson make a choked, muffled sound behind her.

She turned in time to see the priest grabbing Dawson in a headlock and trying to shove him through an opening in the curtain. She threw herself forward, tripped over the hem of her wedding dress, and fell on her face in front of the alter. "Pacey!" she cried, and he was already leaping onto the stage before the word was out of her mouth.

He threw himself onto the priest, and all three of them crashed to the floor. Dawson rolled clear and Pacey grabbed the priest by his white-banded collar and prepared to punch his lights out.

"Wait!" the priest screamed. "It's me, Jen!"

Joey grabbed blindly until she was clenching Dawson's hand. "Huh?" he cried.

Pacey's arm paused and the priest groped at the edges of his/her face. There was a sticky peeling sound, and a layer of rubber mask pulled away like a candy-bar wrapper coming off. Joey could just make out the contours of Jen's face behind the rubber cement.

"Jen?" Pacey asked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He climbed off her stomach, and they both got to their feet. Pacey started to help Joey, then saw the way she was holding Dawson's hand and backed off.

"I was trying to stop the wedding," Jen told them, tearing the wig off her head. "I...You can't marry Joey, Dawson."

His grip on Joey's hand tightened. "Why not?"

Jen tried to conjure up some dignity beneath the gummy remnants of her disguise. "Because I never stopped loving you, Dawson, and marrying her means that we'll never have a chance to build the kind of relationship I know we both want and that we can find together. She's going to marry you because she doesn't want to hurt you, and..."

"You know it will be a disaster," Pacey interjected softly.

Joey shook her head. She had to do this. She couldn't let Dawson's self-image go down the toilet just because she had the bad luck to fall for someone else.

"Think for a second, Dawson," Pacey said. "Just think."

Dawson turned to Joey, and she grabbed his other hand. Her palms were sweating but for once she didn't care. His eyes rested, unfocused, on her shoulder, and his head was slightly bowed.

"Dawson?" she whispered.

He looked up. His eyes were damp but resolute, and the set of his jaw was firm. "I can't marry you, Joey. Jen and Pacey are right."

She shook her head, paniced.

"I'm tired of being alone and unwanted. But if you marry me, it won't be out of love." He brushed the tears in his eyes away. "I wish you wanted me, Joey, but you don't. We would only make each other unhappy in the end, and you have a chance for something great with Pacey. I've never seen him this serious about a girl before, this...knightly." His eyes broke contact with hers, and stared over her shoulder at Jen. "And it appears I have a chance for something, too."

He gently pulled his hands out of her grasp and stepped past her. "You meant all that, Jen?" he asked, and she nodded gingerly. They gazed at each other for a long moment before Dawson reached out and pulled her to him.

Joey stared mutely at the two, in shock. She had thought this could only end badly, yet Dawson was standing there with his arms wrapped around Jen, happy, leaving her alone and available....

"Joey?"

She turned around to find Pacey standing a few feet below her on the church floor. He looked amazing in his suit, trim and neat and sexy, and there was a grin hiding behind his eyes.

He held out his hand. "What do you say, Jo? Want to have a go at it?"

She glanced one more time at Dawson and Jen, then broke into a huge smile and threw herself into his arms.

Ryan looked disgustingly smug as he completed the ceremony. "I now announce you Boyfriends and Girlfriends," he said. "You may kiss your steadies."

Joey lifted her arms to Pacey's embrace and kissed him hard. His mouth was warm and lush, and he held her tight enough to force the air from her lungs. "I really want to be alone with you," he muttered as she pulled away.

She giggled. "After school."

"School, good grief. Do we really have to go to class after a night like tonight?"

Jen agreed. "Seems like we ought to at least get a couple of days off to enjoy this."

"I know my concentration is going to be shot," Dawson told her.

Ryan flipped the lights on and made a few marks on his clipboard. "Ready to wake up?"

Joey felt a quick rush of fear. What if she woke up and this really was nothing more than a dream? What if in real life Pacey still thought she was an annoying bitch?

"When we're awake," Pacey whispered, his breath warm on her head, "when we're asleep. When we're together..."

"When we're not," she finished. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She turned her face and his lips met hers again. Behind them, Ryan sighed deeply. "That's a wrap, kids, that's a wrap."

The End

June 2, 1999

Jory San-Corinth