Frankie Sweet Music croons in the background as we pan down to Dawson standing outside the Rialto. Joey walks past, spots him in the ticket line, and greets him warmly, asking what he's doing there. He says he felt like getting lost in a crowd, and she guesses she "had the same impulse." She offers her condolences "about everything," and Dawson thanks her, saying that the last few days "have sucked in ways [he] didn't know were possible." Not watching your own show, then, Big D? He asks how the ski trip went. Joey does a lot of head-shaking and guilty grinning and says that "it was fine." "Did I miss anything exciting?" Joey finally makes eye contact, then freezes. Man, I've known three-year-olds who lied better than this girl -- and any other three-year-old on earth could see that she's lying, too, and yet people who have known her all her life never seem to catch it. Anyway, after groping for what seems like a month for something to say, Joey comes up with "Jen bruised her foot!" Dawson quotes Mr. Brooks in saying, "Alert the media!" Joey grins guiltily some more, thinking she's off the hook, but then Dawson asks if she and Pacey had fun. Joey makes "oh, yeah, sure, you know" noises. Dawson eyes her for a moment, then points to the theater: "Shall we?" Joey pauses, then asks if Dawson would rather "go someplace and...talk." Dawson smiles broadly: "Yeah. I would like that." Strangely, James Van Der Beek doesn't look unattractive in that shot. It's a sincere smile, and he looks...well, not "good," because I don't find him fetching at all, but on occasion, when Dawson isn't acting like a dickwad and when Van Der Beek actually is, you know, acting instead of flapping all the cartilage on his body, I can almost see how people think he's cute. Except for the hair, which still looks really wrong on, like, a cellular level. Look, don't fire me, I just drove to Pennsylvania and back and I'm exhausted. So, Joey says she'd like that too.
Cut to a diner, where Dawson asks if he can tell Joey something: "It's not exactly a secret, but I haven't told anybody else yet." Of course he can. "Mr. Brooks put me in his will." Joey lowers her coffee cup, shocked: "Really?" Does that mean...? Yes, it means Mr. Brooks left Dawson money. He's kidding, right? Nope. "Well, what're you gonna do with it?" Joey asks, seeming happy for him. Dawson says that Mr. Brooks's will explicitly stated that Dawson do something "great" with the money, and that Dawson shouldn't go blowing it on women and booze -- but if he chooses to do so, he should blow it on great women and great booze. Heh. I miss Mr. Brooks. "Well, no pressure there," Joey cracks, sipping her coffee. Dawson guesses he could pay his entire college tuition. Damn, Mr. Brooks left him that much? Joey suggests, "You could make a movie." "Yeah, I could," Dawson muses, and then says he feels weird thinking about spending it: "It'd be one thing if I'd won the lottery, but..." "No, I understand," Joey says. Dawson cocks an eye at her. She sips her coffee again, then looks around and back at him: "What?" "You seem different." Oh, for god's sake. Like she'd look any different. Whatever, writers -- WHATEVER. Stop demonizing sex -- IT'S SEXIST. Joey, a little rattled: "I do?" Yeah -- did she change her hair? Joey says no, and squirms. Dawson assures her that "it's not bad different, it's good different," but before he can put his finger on it, she uneasily suggests that they get out of there. "Sure," he chirps in response, then makes a "something's rotten in Denmark" face and slides out of the booth to follow her.