Chapter Text
The road into Capeside was one that he knew well. It reminded him of being sixteen. Back then the thought of being dumped in Capeside by his father - as a hide away for his troubled family - filled him with dread. He had no idea then that he would enjoy the drive back years later - an adult, qualified teacher, and a comfortable and happy gay man.
Originally the thought of going back to Capeside concerned Jack. After taking so many steps forward, the thought of falling back was something he could not bring himself to do. Having lived in Boston and New York – places where he fit in, he knew going back to Capeside would make him different again. Older and wiser, he knew this was not always the people of Capeside being cruel or hateful - it was just a small town mentality, where different meant weird, and there was nothing that you could really do to change that, other than wait for them to catch up.
Knowing that it was not permanent made it better. He just needed some time out of New York before starting a new school year teaching. Some how after a regular phone call Pacey he had convinced him to hang out in their hometown for the summer, though Jack knew that Pacey probably wanted a hand in the restaurant. He did not mind though. Jen was busy too; and knowing that Grams had better things to do that spend time with him was a depressing thought. He needed some time away.
Things had not changed much in Capeside. Still the same people, same places to go, same things to do. Okay, there were some new people, and one or two new shops on the parade, but nothing that you would really notice. Jack pulled into one of many empty parking spaces and pulled his aching body out of his car. Taking in a deep breath he looked around - smiling at the still and quiet that he could never find in New York. Kids out with their parents, people taking a stroll along the waterside, couples enjoying a cup of coffee. Good Old Capeside.
“Jack McPhee!”
Jack spun round to see Pacey stood on the decking of the restaurant. “Hey, Pace.”
“Glad to see you remembered your way back to Capeside,” Pacey joked, coming down to meet him at the car.
“I was only here a few months ago for Christmas,” he reminded, hugging his friend.
“It feels like a lot longer. Glad you’re back.”
“Yeah, I think I’m glad to be back too.”
“You’re going to have a great summer. Come in and get a beer.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I’ve written up new menus, restocked the bar, re-staffed the place… So far it’s going really well. No complaints yet.”
“That’s really good, Pace. I’m glad it’s all working out for you.”
“All I need is one more waiter for the summer period. Then I think I’m all set,” he smiled. “I asked Bessie if she knew of anyone looking for something to do over the summer.”
“Really, was she any help?” Jack asked suspiciously.
“She mentioned someone that used to work at the old Ice House. Said he was pretty useless, but he was out of work for the summer and moving back down from New York,” he grinned.
“Very funny, Pacey. Of course I can help out, and I’ll have you know I was a great waiter.”
“Sure - just won’t ask you to mop the floor.”
“You know I am far more domesticated than I was then.”
“I know,” Pacey smiled. “I was thinking more putting you behind the bar.”
“Anything I can do to help. I’ll be glad to have something to do. Capeside can get dull after a while.”
Pacey put down his bottle of beer and gave Jack a faux stern look. “Now, I will not have you speaking badly of this dear town. I’ll have you know it is a wonderful place to live.”
“I apologise. But after the hustle and bustle of New York it is going to take a while to readjust to the quiet life.” Taking another sip of his beer he wondered what he was really doing back in Capeside - knowing full well there was little enjoyment to be had. After all, he only really knew Pacey, and he was going to be working flat out.
“There is more excitement here than you may think, Jackers. I heard through the grapevine that the Andrews’ house has been repainted a slightly off-white colour.” He tried to hold back his laughter as he gave a look of shock.
“Well then, I take back my words. This place is far out!” Jack laughed.
“And if you get really bored you could always go and visit your current man back in New York.”
The smile on Jack’s face faded slightly. “No, I don’t really think that is going to happen.”
“Oh?” Pacey asked, raising his eyebrows. “Trouble in paradise?”
“More like a tropical storm. Let’s just say I tied all loose ends before I left New York.” Jack looked around the bar area they were sat in. When he had arrived the place was quite full, now just one or two people was left finishing off their drinks. “This place is looking really good. You should be proud.”
Pacey smiled. “Okay. I get you. Change of subject. I‘ll let that topic lie.”
Jack smiled shyly in appreciation. “I mean it though. This place is amazing. Who would have thought that Pacey Witter was going to make something of himself?”
“Tell me about it. At the moment things are going smoothly. Bills are being paid, there’s money in my pocket, and now you’re here I don’t have to go home to an empty house night after night.”
“No one can have it all,” Jack joked. “But if I wake up even once with you in my bed, I’m heading straight back to New York,” he laughed, pulling a disgusted face.
“Don’t play hard to get. You know you can’t resist me. I’ve always been the one you want,” he joked.
“You’re right. Who can resist Pacey Witter?”
“Not your sister!”
“Whoa, Pacey, please. Too far. Time will never heal that.”
“See: jealousy!”
“That must be what it is. However, I’m not the same as Andie. I can resist any Witter you can throw my way!” Jack laughed. “That’s one spell I will not fall under.”
Pacey laughed in response. “I could so have you if I wanted.”
“Keep dreaming!”
“I can’t wait to start pairing you up for dates, Jackers. I have a gem up my sleeve,” Pacey teased.
Jack could not tell if he was serious or not. “I think you’re forgetting where we are.”
“And you’re forgetting how long you’ve actually been gone. This is not the same town you left at eighteen.”
“Come on, Pace, do you really expect me to believe that if there were another gay man in this town you wouldn’t have told me already,” Jack laughed, deciding to take it as a joke.
“Maybe, my friend, it’s because this person has only confided in a few people. As the new businessman of Capeside I am now respected enough to be privy to this information.”
Jack looked at him mockingly. “So as a restaurateur you are in on this kind of thing. You expect me to believe this. You’re not a hair stylist - then I might actually believe you.”
Pacey quickly realised that Jack was not buying any of it. “Well if you don’t believe me, it’s your loss. Makes no difference to me.”
Jack took the bait. “Okay, Pace, who is this nearly found gay Capeside resident?”
“Well, my non-believer - that’s for me to know and you to find out.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jack woke the next morning feeling as though someone had cracked an axe against his head during the night - splitting it in two. He wanted nothing more than to roll over in his bed and to fall back to sleep, but the sun was coming through the window on which he had neglected to pull the drapes in his drunken state, and the noise coming from down stairs was impossible to ignore.
He slowly put one foot in front of the other as he softly crept down the stairs, wearing his grey sweat pants and white T-shirt. The smell of food filled his senses making his hangover nausea worse. His head was spinning and his stomach churning but still he kept moving, scared to stand still too long in case his legs gave way. The only thing that kept him up right was wanting to see the same pain on Pacey’s face.
Pacey was in the kitchen, radio playing loudly, eggs on the stove and toast and juice on the table. He was singing along to the track playing - invading the ordinarily quiet Capeside morning that Jack had been hopefully anticipating.
“How?” Jack groaned from the doorway.
Pacey looked up to see Jack in the most horrible state he had ever seen. “Good morning sunshine!” he laughed evilly.
“How are you doing that?” Jack slumped himself in one of the chairs that were around the breakfast table.
“Doing what? Looking human? I, Jackers, can handle my drink.”
“So can I,” Jack groaned in confusion.
“And have learned the benefits of a glass of water before bed and two aspirin waiting by the bedside.”
“The guest room didn’t come with any of that,” Jack said, resting his head on the table top.
“Did it not?” Pacey faked surprise. “I must have forgotten. You did get the mint on your pillow, right?”
“I hate you,” was his only response.
“You know that’s not true.” He placed a plate of eggs in front of the hungover man. “Look, I made you breakfast.”
Looking up, Jack groaned and pushed the plate away. “Coffee.”
“This one time I shall ignore that you forgot the please,” Pacey smiled as he poured a strong cup of black coffee and put it where the plate of eggs had been. “Got any plans for today?”
“Sleep,” was bluntly replied.
Pacey could not help but smile as his friend sat in pain. He had known this would be the result of their previous night’s catch up session. Jack had always been hit harder than he had when it came to alcohol. “Almost enough to make you stop drinking, eh?”
“Every time,” Jack said, laughing despite the pain. “We’ll never learn.”
“Speak for yourself,” Pacey retorted, sitting down at the table. “I’m fine. Definitely well enough to eat these eggs.” He scooped some onto his fork and ate them - making exaggerated noises of enjoyment.
“I really hate you.”
“Most people do, Jackers. Most people do.”
Jack remained with his head on the table. If he did not move; or talk; or open his eyes, he was just fine. When he heard what seemed to be the screen door open and someone walk into the kitchen, he decided on remaining as he was and not looking up to greet the person was probably the best idea. After all, if they had felt just as bad as he did, they would do the same. He was pretty certain of that,
“Good morning,” the person said before pausing slightly. “Pacey, why is there a man dead on your table?”
Jack vaguely recognised the voice but still kept his throbbing head down.
“He’s not dead,” Pacey replied dryly. “Sheriff of Capeside and you can’t even differentiate between a corpse and a severely hungover man. Do you have no training at all?”
Sheriff? Jack thought to himself. Pacey’s dad? It certainly did not sound like Mr. Witter.
“Well I’m not used to seeing people in this state,” he replied.
“You obviously haven’t been to any of my parties,” Pacey laughed.
“I try not to, little brother. My job is to stop trouble, not join in.”
Little brother, Jack thought. The cog whirling around his aching head. Doug? When had he become sheriff?
“But seriously, Pacey, are you sure whoever that is is actually still living?” Doug asked, casting a concerned eye over the corpse-like figure.
“I’m alive…just,” Jack managed to chime, finally joining in with the conversation that was invading his desired quiet space. After a couple of seconds of silence he decided to raise his head. “Morning,” he groaned.
Doug just looked at Pacey stunned, unsure who the young man was.
“Come on, Dougie. You remember Jack McPhee, right? Friend from High School?”
Doug thought about it for a second or two. “Yes, of course.” While he indeed recall the name, the image of the man in front of him did not match the memory of the awkward and shy boy that he remembered.
“Jack, you remember Doug, right?”
“Yeah. Morning Doug,” he responded faintly.
Doug nodded back in his direction, still studying the features of the man sat at the table.
“Is there any reason for your visit this morning?” Pacey asked his brother, noticing with amusement the way Doug’s eyes had lingered on his friend for a few seconds longer than was normal.
“Um, yes…” Doug gathered his thoughts. “I was just coming to see if you wanted dinner tonight. But I can see you have a guest, so never mind.”
“Don’t be silly. Come to the restaurant after work and I’ll get someone to cover for me. The three of us can have dinner there. I’ve pretty much caught up Jack’s New York gossip,” Pacey explained. “Say 8ish?”
“If you’re sure,” Doug replied, slightly uncomfortable.
“Of course. That okay, isn’t it, Jack?” Pacey asked.
“Um, yeah, of course,” he responded, realising he was being spoken to.
“Okay then. See you at 8.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pacey poked his head out from the kitchen, looking around the restaurant. Nearly every table was full with people chatting to their friends – some eating and some looking over their menus. The orders were coming into the kitchen fast, and instead of having a night off, Pacey was cooking. Still scanning the room his eyes finally fell on the two men who he was supposed to be joining for dinner.
Over in the corner of the restaurant his brother sat opposite his friend, both politely sipping glasses of wine, patiently waiting for their common link to come and join then, enabling them to finally eat. Neither man looked particularly comfortable, but Pacey was impressed that they were both still sat there an hour after arriving. The conversation looked slow, but at least there was some - making Pacey feel less guilty.
“Marco,” Pacey called to one of his waiters, who turned to look at him, while still sat filling salt and pepper shakers at the end of the counter. “Go tell my brother that I will be over as soon as the rush dies down.” Receiving a nod in reply, Pacey disappeared back into the kitchen.
Marco made his way over to the two men, sat together in the corner. “Sheriff Witter,” he spoke quietly, still uncomfortable with approaching the town’s authority figure.
Both Doug and Jack shifted their gaze from their individual glasses to look up at the boy.
“Pacey said that there’s a bit of a rush on at the moment but he will be over as soon as it dies down.”
Doug let out a sigh. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Would you like to order something?” Marco asked, aware how long they had already been waiting.
“Just get Pacey to rustle up whatever he’s got spare in there,” Doug replied, not really too bothered about the meal anymore, just frustrated that he had been kept waiting.
“Sure,” he mumbled as he wandered back towards the kitchen.
A few seconds of silence shrouded the pair left sitting together before Jack finally spoke. “That was amazing."
“What was?” Doug asked confused.
“Not even on duty and still able to strike fear into the youth of Capeside.”
Doug cracked a smile. “It is just a talent I possess. Not so good when you want to rent a movie on a Friday night. It’s like I’m holding a gun to their heads.”
“I can imagine. Shame I don‘t seem to have the same power in the class room.”
“You’re a teacher?” Doug asked, surprised.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure if I’m a good one yet. New York teens are a whole different breed to what you find round here.”
“So you’re working in New York?”
“Kind of.”
“You don’t sound so sure,” Doug smiled kindly, hearing the uncertainty in the man’s voice.
“Well it is the summer break now, and come the new school year - Well let’s just say, a job offer is on the table, I just haven’t accepted it yet.”
“Sounds like underlying issues,” Doug commented.
“It does, doesn't it,” Jack laughed, not willing to say much more.
Doug accepted the answer, knowing not to push this near stranger beyond comfort. “So you’re spending the summer figuring out what to do?”
“I’m seeing if there is something better out there,” Jack replied honestly.
“And if there’s not?”
“Then I can go back to New York with no regrets.”
Doug pondered on what Jack had just said. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”
“Glad someone thinks so,” Jack smiled. “So what about you? Pretty sure you were deputy last time I was here.”
Doug smiled, noticing the swift change of subject, but also appreciating the interest. “After my father got ill, mom convinced him to retire, and I suddenly realised that being deputy leads to being sheriff.”
“You hadn’t realised that before?” Jack laughed.
“I just never thought it would happen. The thought of my father retiring just seemed so… distant.”
“You were going to say great,” Jack said slyly.
“No, I was not,” Doug said defensively before smiling. “I was actually going to say fantastic. Fantastic things don’t normally happen to me.”
“This time it seems to have happened.”
“I thought so too,”
“And now you’re not sure?”
“Well after extended hours, more paper work, no one to pass the buck to. Well, stressful does not begin to describe it.”
“Try marking papers, and realising either your whole class are dumb, or you are so bad that you have failed to teach anything. You can’t pass the buck on a kid’s education either.”
“I’m not sure if it’s the wine, the hunger, or just that we are horribly depressing people, but this conversation just became a bit of a downer.”
“It is probably a mixture of all the above,” Jack confessed. “There’s no hope for us, Doug. We are, what did you say, ‘horribly depressing’?”
“Okay, so that may have been a little harsh,” Doug laughed.
“I hope so. I think I‘m still a little too young to be totally written off.”
“I hope so too.”
“Y’know what Doug, I think I’m going to head off. I didn’t get much sleep last night and I’m about ready to hit the sack.”
“You’re not going to hang around for food. We should get something in two or three hours,” Doug joked.
“I hear there’s now a McDonalds over on Hudson,” Jack replied. “That will do me fine for one night.”
“Okay, well good night, Jack,”
“You’re welcome to come,” he offered standing.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll wait for Pacey,”
“Okay then. Night,”
Doug watched as Jack walked away, wondering how the young man he had once known, mostly only by way of town rumours, and though his little brother, had transformed into the man who had now returned to Capeside - probably a far better teacher than he gave himself credit for. Pushing aside the thought that he had not enjoyed another’s company so much in a while, he went back to silently cursing his little brother for keeping him waiting. Wondering what time the Sheriff of Capeside would actually get to eat.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As Pacey finally exited the kitchen at almost 10pm, holding two plates of food, he instantly saw Doug still sat in the same place as he had been sat before. The restaurant was far less packed than it had been earlier, with only a few couples finishing glasses of wine, or a cup of coffee before they headed home.
The unimpressed look on his older brother’s face was visible almost immediately. “Dougie, I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he grinned.
“And that’s why you have two plates in your hands. Just say it, Pace, I have no where better to be.”
“I wasn’t going to say a word actually,” he replied placing the plates on the table. “But now you say it…” He slumped down on the chair previously occupied by his friend and yawned. “I’m glad tonight is nearly over.”
“I’m just glad to have some food.”
“I see you scared away Jack,” Pacey said moments before filling his mouth with food.
“I think he got bored of waiting for you.”
“Maybe you are a dull conversationalist,” Pacey commented.
“You’re so obnoxious. It’s a wonder that you have friends, let alone nice ones.” Doug started on his food.
Raising an eyebrow, Pacey looked up at his brother. “So you approve of Jackers, eh?”
“Jackers?” Doug questioned. “Well the pet name is questionable, but yeah, he seems like a nice guy.”
“He’s a teacher, did he tell you that?”
“He did.”
“Lives in New York,” Pacey added, still eating.
“Yes, that also came up,” Doug replied, growing suspicious of his brother’s comments.
“He’s a good guy.”
Doug, this time, decided not to reply. Instead he looked at his brother, raising an eyebrow, very aware that eye contact was being avoided. “Why do I get the feeling that you had no intention of joining us for dinner tonight?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Pacey replied, still looking down at his plate.
“Did you even try to get someone to cover you in the kitchen?”
“What are you accusing me of, Sheriff?”
“I think you know exactly what.”
“Are you really saying that I would prefer to be slaving away in the kitchen than having a nice meal with my brother and friend?” He finally looked up at his brother, staring him dead on.
“Okay, fine. Whatever you say,” Doug caved in.
“You had enough to talk about though, right? There weren’t any awkward silences?”
“No, Pacey, it was fine. I just think he was tired and about to die of hunger.”
“It’s going to be nice to have him here during the summer. Think I’m going to make use of him behind the bar,” Pacey revealed.
“Don’t you think he’s a bit over qualified to be your bartender?” Doug laughed.
“Maybe. But at least he can count the change he’s giving unlike some of the kids round here.”
“Don’t be so down on them,” Doug warned. “A few years ago those kids were you.”
“And that is why the Potters never hired me to work here,” Pacey laugh, remembering the old days. “Anyway, with Jack behind the bar my punters will have something pretty to look at. Don’t you agree?”
“What are you trying to get at, Pacey?” Doug asked, beginning to get frustrated.
“Nothing, I’m just saying he’s good looking. Even I can appreciate that,” Pacey defended. “He’s a nice guy.”
“So you have been emphasising.”
“What? Do you disagree?”
“No. I agree. He seems to be very nice.”
“But you don’t think he’s good looking?” Pacey asked dryly.
“Pacey,” Doug warned quietly as to not to draw attention to the two of them.
“What?” he smiled. “I’m just asking.”
“Since when do you care if I think you’re friends are attractive or not?”
“Ah, I never said anything about ‘attractive’; I merely said he was good looking. It is you that is thinking about attraction.”
“What’s the difference?” Doug asked defensively.
“Oh, there’s a difference alright. And you know it.”
Silence washed over the two of them as they finished their meals, and Doug finished the remainder of his wine. Pacey every now and then would look up at the older Witter and try and work out what he was thinking - wondering whether he had already pushed his teasing too far, or if there was still a little room.
“You know he’s gay right,” Pacey finally announced.
“That is it, Pacey. If you’ve got something to say then just come out and say it.”
“I’m just saying that he is nice, smart, good looking, funny, gay… last time I checked that was pretty much your type.”
“How on earth would you know what my type is?” Doug asked. “I barely know what my type is.”
“He’s a good guy, Dougie.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Doug sighed. “But just because two gay men happen to be living in the same town it does not mean that they will automatically find each other attractive. That’s like me assuming you fancy every straight woman in Capeside.” Doug thought about what he had just said. “Okay, so maybe that’s a bad example.”
“Come on, Doug, even I find it hard to resist Jack’s charms. He’s hot,” he laughed.
“You date him then,” was the dry response.
“If I thought he’d be up for it, I’d give it a go,” Pacey still joked. “Come on, seriously. What is wrong with him? I have delivered the perfect package. And he’s just here for the summer so nothing serious.”
“Well, one: I don’t know him. Two: last time I checked only my close family know I am gay. Three: I would like it to remain that way. Four: I am not looking to date anyone and five - most importantly: if I were looking for someone, it would not be Jack. I just do not see the attraction.”
“Fine,” Pacey replied. “I hear you loud and clear. But you must be dead to not want a bit of Jack McPhee.”
“Please, Pacey,” Doug begged. “Stop talking like that.”
“I shall say no more.”
“Good.”
“Apart from this. You’re not getting any younger, Doug. And you’re not likely to find the man of your dreams in that closet you are finding so very comfortable. So, Jack is not right. I’ll accept that. But I just have the feeling that the list of excuses you just reeled off would be the same if Brad Pitt walked in here and offered himself to you. If you never do anything that scares you, then you may as well just be standing still.”
“Pacey…”
“No, you don’t have to say anything. I just want you to be happy, Doug. That’s all I want.” He smiled softly at his brother before standing from the table. “I should probably clean up.”
To be continued...