One Tree Hill 1. detour

His feet shuffle against the side of the pavement, the dead cold winter air at his back. The city doesn't smell funny in the winter. There's no rancid odor of refuse, metal and public domain. Maybe the cold has all the homeless people burrowed away from the air. Maybe it's the cold blasts of winter air at his back wafting it away from his nostrils. Its harsh but he handles it because he understands the cold blast very well. Its his penance, he bear it all the same.

He remembers high school clearly for a moment but its nothing from the portfolio of his usual memories. They are sitting in a circle with Ms. Zinger, no Mr. Anagbo, no he can't really remember clearly. He pauses. No it was Ms. Zimmer, he promised himself he wouldn't forget her. They are sitting in a circle and in one of the few classrooms with walls the campus had reading their stories they'd been clacking at for the week. His turn is next. He pauses and he begins to read his creation. It was about her but he hadn't the gumption to dare talk to her yet. Its just what he thought the story of their lives could be one day. It won the prestigious Athenaeum award in England and he still couldn't believe his professor had talked him into submitting it. She wanted him to submit it to something domestic but he was mortified she would find out and then...she'd know.

That was far worse then being recognized for his talent internationally. Mortifying.

His ears were always the coldest but he never employed a scarf or ear muffs or at least one of those cheesy looking head band things made out of fleece. He just stuck it out as he trudged the city sidewalks. The lingering odor of fish wormed into his nose as he passed the fish market. The shit he did to save money. Then again cabs smelled like ass and cigarettes. Disgraceful.

Once he wrote a better story then the short one from creative writing class. They published it and it sold like it was Shakespeare himself. He didn't even need Oprah for that. It was the story of his life after he had finally got up enough courage to speak to her. Actually he was forced to speak to her. Her car broke down on the side of a deserted rode and his uncle's garage was the tow company she called. HIs father's car dealership service department was refusing to take AAA at the time. She was beautiful then. He imagined she was breathtaking at this very moment. She always was.

He picked up the pace as he saw a snow flurry settle in. His feet chose to lead him up Mercer from Prince today for some reason. He'd never done that before. He'd always taken West Broadway. That's when he saw it. The city did that to you. You got so used to your same route as variant as it could be that the slightest deviation produced life changing results.

His?

A used book store. They specialized in procuring rare finds. He entered thinking of getting his hands on something like a first edition Marquez or Fitzgerald. Maybe a couple of hard cover sci-fi books. He was a dork he'd admit it. If he was lucky a Charles Dickens. He entered brushing past the newer used books. The repetitive binding at the top row caught his eye as he headed toward the back towards the rare books. It was his second book. A comet in more ways than one. What's a comet but a celestial asteroid?

One of the reviews described it as 'imploringly boring, a must-not read'. He had missed the boat on that one. On second thought it was a plane. He'd been too late to the airport. They were closing the doors to her gate and wouldn't let him on as a part of the new security regulations. Damn terrorists. He sat in the chairs facing the windows watching it take off and then watching them all take off and leave. He missed his life's dream by two stop lights and a swerving hybrid driver who'd sworn a Prius had more speed then his '67 Mustang. Never that. Screw trees and going green...he was a writer. Paper made him paper. However he did use only plastic for most transactions. Interesting.

He assumed she read it but his mental state at the time didn't really encourage her to respond in any such way. Besides he agreed with the critics. It sucked. Seeing it here in such a tucked away fashion at the top of the used book store shelf with yellowing sides on some of the volumes furthered the argument. Not his best work. Kind of like his pathetic attempts at getting her back.

Her curly blonde ringlets were God's best work in his book. No girl's hair had even compared. He missed her. Funny how the difference between heroin and heroine was an 'e'. Did the effects really differ when you were addicted to one or the other. Addiction is as addiction does or maybe more. Life changing thoughts.

He'd always thank God for how bad the second book did. It was the five minutes he stood debating the small epiphany between the drug and the woman ( they were quite certainly the same he had decided) that changed everything. Five minutes. Three hundred seconds. His entire life.

He stepped out the aisle again and almost stepped on her miniature statue. At least he was most definitely certain that's what Brooke Davis was calling her. Of course he hadn't heard from Brooke in several months but he could tell the precious little girl whose curly hair was tied into two french braids had heard from her yesterday. In fact he was quite certain that woman had dressed her today.

'Mackenzie Rose Scott! Why do you insist on giving me a heart attack and walking off,' her voice was somewhat muffled through the stacks of books. It still made his heart beat wildly. His head swam much like it does when the alcohol first hits the blood stream.

His face must have been something between a mixture of the Messiah and the Accuser because the little statue in front of him froze unable to move. Her mouth was the perfect 'O', her little green eyes were a mixture of emotions he was sure he was supposed to know how to read.

'Mac what the hell,' her mother's voice called closer and with more concern. The statue stiffly faced her mother whose heels could be heard clacking down the aisle over from him. The aisle that was on the other side of the one that housed his rejected book. He suddenly loved that book very much yet his face must've never showed it. The statue turned back to him her face doing much of the same.

'Mac I know we're in a book store and all but...,' the voice was soft now as it trailed off. Astonished green eyes met far more astonished blue ones.

Breathtaking was an understatement.

A small rebellious part of his mind had hoped she lived in the same miserable state he did. That she would go for days without shaving and wake up with red-rimmed eyes. This little portion of his brain hoped that her neck would snap in the direction of every blonde haired man that walked past her. It hoped that she couldn't watch his favorite television shows without her eyes brimming or pick up novels from his favorite authors. And it most certainly hoped that every love song on the radio somehow reminded her of him.

Another part of his mind, the idealistic one that created short stories and novels, hoped that God had repeated perfection twice. That somehow she had a child, a miniature, that he could claim too. That side never considered how he would react if he actually met this miniature. That's because the rebellious part would always interrupt that fantasy and hope that her little miniature's upturned nose would remind her of him and how miserable she was without him.

'Hey,' he stuttered. One reviewer said his third book was 'eloquent, quick-witted and sharp Scott proves he's an author to watch and remember'.

Not today.

'Um hey,' she said. She still rung her hands when she was nervous. But clearly Mackenzie Rose Scott pulled at her free curls when she was nervous. Lucas looked down at her statue and mouthed the name to himself but it still didn't hit him.

He studied Peyton for a second her wide eyes screaming _CAUGHT_. He still didn't get it. She still could make him feel useless. He wanted to feel useless everyday. She bit her lip.

'Sawyer I don't know why we had to detour. Mac has at least a thousand books,' her raspy voice always had that jilting effect on him. He could hear her hurried footsteps near them both. This was a little much. He shook his head and blinked.

'A thousand books huh,' he said squatting down to the miniature.

'Yeah,' she said nodding before her eyes widened and she looked for permission from her prototype.

Peyton's mouth worked wordlessly before she shrugged. She wanted to run wildly into the streets. His calm hardened features had her scared and wet at the same time. She hadn't told him because he was engaged. She hadn't told him because after he got engaged she left. Then she refused his calls. The two blue stripes on the test strips a month later told her maybe she should have answered.

Dilemma.

Call him and break up his happy honeymoon or let him live in pure bliss. She had no idea there was never a honeymoon. Not until Mac's fifth birthday. Not until on said birthday Jamie accidentally told Mac that his Uncle Lucas was a writer living in the same city with her and her mommy. A year's worth of questions and two months of the silent treatment. That's how Mackenzie Rose Scott discovered her father was her hero. Now at age seven she stood pulling her hair nervously hoping he liked her.

'Peyton and Mac seriously this place is dusty,' the raspy voice was in the aisle rushing forward to them.

'Guys what's wrong? Hole in the floor or something,' Brooke asked her voice riddled with the phrase 'What the Fuck?'.

Peyton turned her wringing hands to Brooke. The miniature's eyes widened further and a groan escaped her now petulant lips. Lucas let his eyebrows burrow down deeply.

Mac. Mackenzie Rose Scott. That was such a sweet beautiful name. Mackenzie. Rose. Scott. Scott. That sounded so familiar. Quick witted talent of the decade. Hmmm. Scott. Hey I'm a Scott too. In this Scott my Scott. Oh shit she's a Scott. Sawyer has a Scott. Great Scott. Damn. Dan? Oh Damn. _NO!_

He stood up straight rather quickly suddenly wishing he hadn't . Damn he was old. Twenty-nine would do that to you.

Brooke's face appeared and took one look at him then burst out laughing. His face was flushed somewhat with a wave of emotions. He couldn't think, especially when she bit her lip like that.

His hard set squint unnerved he and set her on fire. She shifted again in his reserved silence as he seemed to freeze much like her baby girl had. Yes, maybe she was wrong but he didn't wait. He never came looking for her. She ran and he wasnt searching for her. She was certain that Brooke or Haley or even Nathan had spilled by now. They wouldn't seriously keep a secret this big from him. Not even Karen. Yet he stood before her clearly try to climb out from under a ton of bricks.

He squatted down back to her miniature's level. She had his nose.

'Do you think you could play with Aunt Brooke while I talk to your mother,' he asked. She nodded her head but he caught the emotion in her eyes. Their was only one this time...rejection. She turned slowly her little eyes looking at him starting to water. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong but his heart was slowly breaking. The child silently grasped the outstretched hand of her aunt in such a defeated manner he almost cried out from the pain it caused.

Mackenzie Rose Scott. Love at first site.

'She's beautiful Peyton,' he said. His breath was coming in short gasps.

Peyton's head sagged in shame. He was going to hate her for a long time. She'd ruined everything for Mackenzie. Things like this left a scar. Hers were still a little visible. Her breath hitched as she felt her chin gently lifted up. He was upset she could tell. How couldn't he be. She stolen seven years from him. She could see him struggling to say the right words.

'I want to see her,' he said finally. He couldn't bring himself to yell or fight or argue. He was still helplessly in love with her. She nodded quickly her eyes were welling. His fingers went from her chin to cupping her face. Her hands instinctively reached for his despite their slight tremble.

'I'm so sorry. I thought that...,' she began. She had absolutely no control over any of emotions at the moment. His eyes seemed to be pooling in conflict but he was clearly far more disciplined than she. He shook his head silencing her. His head leaned forward till their foreheads touched. Lips parted and inch apart. She had the infamous Peyton Sawyer coffee breath. He closed his eyes knowing she was truly sorry and the truth was withheld because of pure terror of a sort, not spite. How they were so sure that they knew exactly what was going in the other's head would never be fathomed. It was clear they didn't else they'd be together yet in the thousands of moments like these they were in sync.

'It's a lot...baby steps,' he whispered. Her hot breaths were causing his memory to short circuit. They were no longer in a stuffy old bookstore in Manhattan on a cold winter day. It was the summer between junior an senior year. The day she broke down with the weight of a really bad year on her shoulders. They were on the beach their toes dug into the still hot summer sand while the sun set behind them. She'd been quiet all day despite Lucas's attempts to entertain her. She stood and started to pace her head swirling with each diminished wave that crashed against the shore. Lucas watched her face fall deeper than it hall all year and he found himself on his feet. Enveloping her. He cradled her in his arms as her shoulders heaved into his frame. At some point their foreheads came to touch as they were now. Their was something different though. He could feel something heavy leaning up against his leg now.

He moved his head down slightly being sure not to break contact with her. He could feel a tear pool at his chin and drop mingling with hers. He spied his little girl curly blonde head leaning heavily onto his thigh. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his jeans and his tears continued to betray him, falling on her. It didn't deter her. She remained clutching onto his right leg and her mother's left as tightly as her little seven year old hands could.

-FIN-

A/N: Can I get a Review? One Two... thousands. Tell me what you think.


	2. AN

A/N #2:

Thanks for the gracious reviews...they are encouraging. Please feel free to read my other stories and comment.

Ok....um a sequel....I don't know. 2 things: 1) I am horrible at updating so if I do continue this story then it would get posted after I finish it. It has much to do with the fact that I am well aware I'm not the best writer in the world....yet. 2) I'm playing with this plot line in another form and once I make some headway I will consider it. That story is far darker and written differently from this. I'm not sure which will prevail if any.


	3. passersbye

A/N: I've decided to push forward with updating both Dark Waters and Detour. I am also changing the rating of Detour to teen. I had intended to update both earlier but in discovering that CMM is enough of a douche to destroy a story we all know and love it kinda zapped my mood....don't worry i'm back and when i become a famous screenwriter/director i'll be sure to hold this over his head. But I rant....Enjoy the update have a happy weekend oh and **REVIEW pls :)**

Older wiser. That's how he felt when asked about fatherhood. His normal worn appearance was considerably rejuvenated as he sat across from Ann Curry on The Today Show. His hair was perfectly scruffy, the face shaven into neat goat-tee. It was her favorite look even though the chances of her watching the broadcast were slim. But on the other hand _she_ was watching for sure and for her everything was worth it. Ann plied him with questions concerning the child and her mother and was rewarded with a rare grin and the word 'private'. It was still new for him. Key word was him. Not them. They were his, no one else's. Talk turned back to the book he was promoting. It was dedicated to his little girl and her mother. If he were bolder he would have said future wife. He hadn't the heart to do it though. That was still in repair.

The second time he had to part with her was the worst. He in a sense knew it was going to be rough but he hadn't expected the tantrum. The wrenching scream and the immediate shedding of tears was completely unexpected by both parents. Her laughter still sounded in the air from its previous eruption only seconds earlier. Maybe what broke him to pieces was that she looked every bit like her mother as her tears shed to the floor. So in that aspect he felt like he was ripping two hearts not one. And God did she scream. In the end, he scooped her close to him and rocked her to sleep while her mother watched on from the living room doorway devastated. He could see the guilt etched on her face but she wouldn't meet his eye.

He had to chuckle to relieve the tension as he laid her in her bed. She'd put up one hell of fight. It took a minute and she stirred a bit as he peeled her scrawny arms from around her neck. He thought he was caught when she breathed out a very audible 'Don't leave me again'. Thankfully she had inherited her mother's ability to talk in her sleep. It took all he had to turn and walk away. Her words were ringing in his ears and he knew that's what had Peyton a nervous wreck at the moment. But he was calm. He accidentally tripped over a pile of books in the dark. Brooke wasn't kidding. There were nearly a thousand books on her built in shelves in her room. Her mother had vintage vinyls and she had vintage books. They both had his heart.

He closed the door to her bedroom lightly and made his way back to the first floor of the penthouse. Peyton was doing more than well. She was doing 5,000 square feet more than he had on the Upper East Side, well. It made his own 2,000 square feet seem paltry. She was always a step ahead of him. And to think not a month ago he had squared his shoulders back in pride as his then current flavor of the month praised him for it.

He stood in the doorway of her living room watching her. She was wringing her hands despite the half-empty bottle of wine beside her.

'Lucas you know I can't stand when you watch me like that,' she spoke shakily with slurred words after some time.

His jaw dropped and then he scratched his head as he entered the room and sat across from her. The smell of wine rolling off her was something he'd never experienced. Granted they used to drink in high school at parties but to see her drunk. His emotions seemed to mix and then settle much as if they were thrown in an off speed blender. The only thing he could taste in the strange emotional cocktail he'd concocted was he loved her. Why should he scream if was going to forgive her?

He hadn't decided what exactly to do with her at the time.

'Peyton we are going to have to discuss this some time,' he said leaning forward.

'I know,' she said turning her glazed-over eyes to him.

He could see the alcohol kicking into full affect. Her movements slowed as she brushed invisible hairs from her face. Another hand waved to cool her off. He stood up deciding that he wasn't ready for their inevitable conversation either. Instead he found himself helping her to her bed. The half empty bottle of wine was brought with them. The shaking hands stopped while he held her and he tried to ignore that little fact. He tried to ignore the fact that she was relaxing against him. He froze as she sank to the edge of her bed. He shouldn't be there. He was supposed to be mad at her.

He understood the parrot that flew the cage in that moment. The door was life, freedom, it was everything and that damn bar he was swinging on was unsteady and seemed about to fail. All it took was a little shifting of his weight and then he'd be flapping wildly about in a cage until it was fixed or he was freed. Better to take his freedom then wait for it to be given in this case.

'You're a good mom,' he spoke softly as he stood over her. Her eyes traveled to him and he could visibly see the comfort wash over her. A look settled on her face and his struggled to keep from instinctively kneeling to her side. She wanted him to stay but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't time yet. He gently kissed her on the forehead before exiting out of the building. He'd be back. He was sure of it.

Two months later his new book was written, edited, and published. Now as he passed displays for the manufactured distraction that was Valentine's Day he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever get more than a few hours with the little girl skipping at his side. Her mittened hand was snugly tucked in his and he couldn't help but smile down at her. Her infectious smile broadened as she chattered about her school day. Her little eyes sparkled underneath her oversized winter hat and the furry ball on top bobbed as she explained with quite some detail the particular predicament of having to find her lost snow boot. Thankfully the boot was found and thus her sanctity spared. Oh the heartache on that face should she lose her coveted limited edition Hannah Montana Uggs.

Mackenzie Rose Scott had a dual personality. One moment she was full of laughter and chatter making sarcastic comments that proved she was familiar with adult humor. The next she was quiet and calculating and he felt as he was entertaining a brick wall. The mood swings didn't last long but were effective. Of course they compared nothing to the mental state he often found her mother in.

He often wanted to accuse Peyton of her crimes but one inhale of her perfume and all he could think of was all the time they'd wasted. His mind was quickly invaded with their memories and he could do nothing but wish to hold her. It was discouraging when her demeanor around him changed. She usually hung her head avoiding eye contact and he often found himself lifting her chin up. He loved her he did. But he could not entertain the immense and cruel self-deprecation she inflicted upon herself. He had a plan. Well actually it was Brooke's plan. But it was time to talk.

'Daddy why do I have to stay with Aunt Brooke tonight,' she pouted.

'Because Mommy and I have to talk about how often I get to see you. Plus Mommy is sad and Daddy happens to be an expert at cheering Mommy up,' he said tapping her nose as he bent down to readjust her hat.

'Aunt Brooke and Aunt Haley say you're going to make it better and worse all at the same time,' she accused him her lips poked out a little further in her pout.

'Yes and Aunt Brooke and Aunt Haley also think you don't eat much but we both that's not true,' he said with a lopsided grin.

He squatted down to her level an act that he particularly enjoyed with her. Getting an eye level view of the small wonder produced an intimacy he inexplicably enjoyed. The currently blue eyes shone back at him as a theory crossed his mind. Mac's eyes changed color for they were green earlier today.

She returned the grin and one particular passerby couldn't help but warm themselves with the affection that radiated from the father-daughter moment. He stood to turn and caught the eye of said onlooker.

'Lucas hey long time,' she said crossing through the pedestrians. Her father responded with a surprised hello but gripped her hand tightly on instinct.

Mackenzie leaned into him poking her head from behind his almost protective stance to survey the lady. Aunt Brooke would say she needs to update her look because her clothes were too plain. Aunt Haley would feel bad for her because her face was kind of sad. Momma would scowl at her in that way that made her skin feel cold because she was watching her too much. Strangers were not supposed to watch little girls too much. Mackenzie chose her best scowl and stared at the lady.

'What's your name?,' asked the lady.

Mackenzie scowl grew more genuine. She didn't like this lady at all.

'Mac be nice,' her father's gentle voice was prodding her to at least not frown at the stranger. She had learned that people asked her dad for autographs much like they asked Aunt Brooke and Aunt Haley for theirs. She didn't quite understand why people wanted her aunts to write all over their things. And she simply could not understand why anyone would want anyone to write in their books. Grown-ups were strange.

She looked up at her father's somewhat amused face and decided to give her one of those icy hellos that Aunt Brooke gave when she wasn't happy. She'd been scolded the last time she did that around her parents. This time she didn't care, she just wanted to make the lady leave. She was interrupting _their_ time. However her father didn't prod her further to be nice like he had in the past. The lady was taken aback and looked almost as if she would cry. Mackenzie felt a little sorry she had been mean. Then she studied the way that her father seemed to defensively answer the lady's questions and the way the lady looked at her daddy. She kept touching at his shoulder. She wasn't sorry at all in fact she was bored.

'Daddy can we go now,' she asked giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

He looked relieved that she had finally asked and chuckled at her. The woman said her goodbye and acted as if she wanted a hug from him but her father ignored it and smiled down at Mackenzie again. She gave him an innocent face before literally tugging him in the direction of her home. She wanted her dad to talk to her mom so she could spend more time with him. She had no time for weird ladies who made silly conversations filled with incomplete sentences and umm's.

Mackenzie Rose Scott. Innocent deterrent of pestering ex-fiancés.

-----------

don't forget to review ...gracias :)


	4. the loop

She couldn't stop her hands from wringing here lately. They would subconsciously find each other and then she'd stare down for several moments to watch them massage at one another. This time the hands wrung as she waited for them to arrive. Brooke had arrived ten minutes ago saying that she was going to take Mac for the night. She wouldn't say why and Peyton didn't question it. She was stressed. He hadn't said anything to her and that was creating even more stress.

She could barely look him in the eye and she practically shivered when his hand reached out to lift her chin. She wanted to apologize but he always changed the subject for her reading the fear in her eyes. It in turn created a heightened sense of dread. The inevitable approached and as it did her pessimistic conscious convinced her that he'd want nothing to do with Mac after this. If he did it would be without her involved and she couldn't bare that. She raised Mackenzie by herself. He had no right to try to take her from him. Her hands reached out for the chaser that had been her new companion these past weeks.

'Come on P. Sawyer you don't want to start any new bad habits. Especially now,' Brooke said gently as her hand rested over hers.

Their eyes connected and she could see her same fears reflected in the other woman's eyes.

On edge.

That was the word of the month. Tense conversation between childhood friends had been exchanged with everyone except Lucas himself. He was calm. It unnerved them it unnerved her. She knew how to get a reaction out of him if she wanted to. But she knew better than to push. He'd talk when he was ready. Until then all she could do was dread it.

Mac's bubbly laughter sounded in the hall and Brooke swiftly removed the alcohol from any possible line of sight. Just in case he was planning something. They were ready they had to be.

'Come on Mac. We have tons of great girly things planned for tonight,' Brooke's voice called from the kitchen breaking Peyton's thoughts.

The thump of her boots sounded through the hall as the little girl ran to her room to change her clothes. She could hear Brooke and Mac giggling in Mac's bedroom. Delight.

'Hey,' his voice interrupted her listening party.

She attempted a half smile that drew his brows down in frustration.

'I thought maybe we could talk tonight,' he said taking a seat next to her.

Her head turned to him and she nodded. He tried to ignore the sudden rigidness of the body next to him.

'Mumma have you seen my blue vest for school,' Mac said running into the living room.

'Did you check the laundry,' her voice was cracked and strained.

'Yes mom,' she said rolling her eyes.

'Well look again in the fresh clothes basket,' she in a gentler tone. Mackenzie's presence had a way of soothing her. He took the opportunity to place his arm around her shoulders as she rested her back against the couch. She didn't say anything concerning the gesture.

'Ok but if I don't see it can you please help me find it,' she pouted as she skipped towards the door.

'I don't get a hug a hello. Am I only good for laundry now,' Peyton said suddenly coming back to life. Lucas watched amused as his daughter tilted her head in deep concentration. How were those eyes green…they were most certainly blue not a half hour ago. Weren't they?

'Hi mom I went to school today. I almost lost my boot but then I found it. Logan Tennon put in the lost in found on accident he says. Then daddy picked me up and said Valentine's Day was a manufactured distraction and he'd explain it all later then we saw an old friend of his but I didn't like her because she stared too much at me and kept touching his shoulder. Then we found Valentine's day cards for boys and girls and then we came home so I could go to Aunt Brookes.'

The rushed diatribe ended with a quick kiss blown in the air. Both parents' mouths dropped before exchanging a glance between them. The glance turned into a blush for Peyton and soft smile for Lucas.

'We raised her so well didn't we,' he spoke again with the utmost false sense of pride.

Her eyes narrowed and he met a far more intense glare than Mackenzie had given earlier. He pulled up his hands in a defensive shrug as he cracked a smile and she turned her head as the their little girl came marching in with her lopsided oversized hat and her overcoat half-zipped.

'Bye mummy, bye daddy. Have fun tonight,' she proclaimed as she bestowed hugs and kisses to them both. Lucas could do nothing to combat the naked vulnerability he felt as the soft lips pressed into his face and the little arms snaked about him with an innate familiarity. Peyton held her hug for seconds longer before attacking her with a flurry of kisses that sent the little one scuttling towards the door. The door thumped closed and the tension remounted with it.

His hand laced with hers and she turned to face him.

" I know what I did was wrong but you can't take her from me,' she suddenly blurted.

His mouth dropped and shook his head from the invisible slap of her words.

'I don't want that, Peyton. Is that what you think?'

Her head turned to the side ashamed at foolishness of her words. His fingers were gently underneath her chin turning her head to face him. he let out a frustrated blast as the second and third attempt produced no results. On the fourth her eyes found his fearfully.

'I won't take her away from you, Peyt. That's not what I want to talk about. I..I just want to know if I'm ever going to see more of my girls.

'Your girls,' she asked pulling back to study his eyes.

'I only see Kenz for like a couple of hours every few days and I only see you like twenty minutes a week. That sucks if you ask me,' he said shrugging off the fact that he had just slipped up and called her his girl. Peyton smiled a little at Lucas's nickname

'Well how do you propose to change that? I mean you get her most days from school now and you guys hang out when I work late. I should be able to spend time with her too,' she said her brows furrowing down.

'There is nothing wrong with us spending time with her together, Peyton' he prodded gently.

He hadn't removed his fingers from underneath her chin. The simple touch was causing her body to flush and she was struggling not to look at his lips. She tried to steel herself reminding her body that she couldn't mess things up for Mac. Wanting him physically would do nothing but rip open emotional wounds from the past.

'I'm still not over you Peyt. I don't think I'll ever be,' he whispered starring into her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat and her fingers tightened sending her into a panic. They were still enlaced in his. His other hand had moved from underneath her chin to cup her face. Her eyes darted about the room trying to avoid his lips, his stark blue stare, his warm breaths on her skin. Don't look at him his face won't be so close. Did Mac really need to buy those extra sneakers in pink? Don't look at him, stop leaning into his touch. You do not miss him. This does not feel perfect.

His lips touched hers and melted over her soaking her entirely. His tongue slipped out gently parting her lips before the kiss deepened. The hand cupping her face traveled behind her head and she could feel her heart ready to explode wildly. She'd missed the way he clutched her hand when he kissed her. She started to pull away but the hand behind her head pulled her closer. She tore away panting heavily.

'Mac,' she panted heavily,' I can't do this to her Luke. What were you thinking?'

'I was thinking about how much I missed you,' Lucas said firmly.

She stared back incredulously.

'You can't do this….I…..I can't. I mean we are over and done. We've been done. The only thing we've got together is Mac and I won't mess that up.'

'Peyton I know I've fucked up. I've fucked up so bad I can't be angry that you didn't tell me about Mac. But don't you see. We can't run away from us. No matter what happens or how hard we try we always come back to each other. We always find our way back.'

'Lucas you hurt me so bad. I can't do it again. Mac kept me alive okay. If it wasn't for her I wouldn't be in a good place right now. You left me…twice.'

The last part came out in a faltered whisper and he realized it was guilt that had him so calm. He was guilty of her worst fear and the fact that he had come back didn't alleviate it. She turned her head but he could still see the tears falling down her face and pooling to her chin. He had done that. He was guilty and she wasn't the same because of it.

'You said baby steps,' she spat in an unsteady voice.

'I know but this is the slowest we've ever gone. You don't even talk to me.'

'I don't know what to say to you. I don't know how I am supposed to say it,' she shrugged giving up.

Here lately she had been in her distressful state taken some time to read some of his newer books. Of course they were about her as Haley had insisted for years. The newer ones at least were. She had picked up an undercurrent of bitterness in his words and she couldn't discern whether it was towards her or something else. The stories were almost always tragic with the hero and heroine never ending up together in the way the reader would dream. A romantic would hold out hope and argue that in the real world it would be only a matter of time before the hero got his heroine. However a realist would see it as the truth. It wasn't in their world anymore. That type of love was gone. The addiction was only a fascination with a dream and nothing more.

So she didn't know what to say. She used to be the romantic, to hold out hope that somehow against the odds they'd be together. Then he proposed to Lindsey and it hurt worse then giving birth to her baby girl. Their baby girl. She couldn't think.

His intense stare was reading her inner turmoil with ease. She had her insistent alcohol to thank for that. Lips fell on her fingers sending a tingle through her spine. Her hand was still in his and she realized she was gripping it tightly.

'I want everything with you. I still do. I always will,' he spoke softly.

'Move in,' she answered.

A/N: this is my second installment for the day for those of you who hadn't caught that....enjoy


	5. sure

All the time you spend complaining about what you don't have can be spent trying to get what you really want the most. He watched humorously as the scrawny opaque tight covered legs of his daughter marched determinedly towards her front door in the purple UGG boots. She was a ball of excitement having forgotten the earlier encounter with an intrusive stranger to her world. Now she had only one goal. Help her daddy help her mommy feel better.

'Aunt Brooke are you here yet,' she demanded in a thunderous shout as the door swung open. He entered slowly as the thump of her boots echoed through the home. She sat her hands ringing incessantly in the living room staring at the city skyline.

All the time complaining when he could have been coming home to this.

It wasn't a question really. Move in. She spoke the two words plainly and simply with a calm confidence that made her so damn sexy. He would be a fool to think she meant share a room. She had guest bedrooms and this was their solution. Her work hours varied and were inconsistent. If he moved in then he could wake up to Mackenzie and they could figure themselves out somehow in the process. They could at the least learn to share their daughter's attention.

This was the solution.

Necessity is the mother of invention. Hmph…more like desperation. You can need something but live without it. More like survive without it. You may not operate in the most optimal capacity but you could function. It's when desperation kicks in. When you are somewhat tormented by your decisions and your lack. When you ache for your need overtakes our everyday lifestyle. That's when you substitute. You find someone or something to replace a good thing you once had. That's what Lindsey had been. A substitute. And when she'd appeared in the night all those years ago at the one place he felt the safest he was too proud to close her in his arms and never let her go. He had no pride now. Move in it is.

Lucas sat up a little nodding his head. She nodded her head back just as stiffly and he sat up straight nodding again. He hadn't lived with anyone since well…since.

'I saw Lindsey today,' he spoke softly.

She stiffened a little. Their hands were still entwined even though they were now nestled in the sofa. The fly on the wall saw a couple in their thirties smitten with one another on those rare peaceful nights that their child was away from home. Yet they couldn't see that. At least one of them couldn't.

She stiffened at the mention of her name. He ignored it. He had a point to make.

'Mac saw her first. She gave her this scowl that reminded me of the day Whitey asked me to join the Raven's.'

Peyton snorted. She remembered that scowl. She was so scared of him them. He was Saint Lucas back then. At least that was her and Brooke's nickname for him in the locker room. His grades were high and he stuck around the smart kids that really didn't belong to any particular clique. She was trying to push him away after their conversation at her car. He had opened right up to her. Something she wasn't used to then. She didn't feel worthy of being his equal then. She doesn't feel it now.

'Yeah I remember', she whispered back. The hot breath on his neck was causing him to struggle with his point.

'I knew then all those years ago. We'd be together. I know we can do this we just got to try.'

"Is that why you chose now to bring her up. Because you we're absa-fucking-lutely sure."

She hated that she was still bitter but then again she spent years wondering why he didn't pick her. He sighed before pulling her hand closer to him.

"I'm not saying I always knew. I mean half the time I've run clear in another direction from you."

"You wow me sometimes."

"What I'm saying is I've never been more sure about it now. I mean if Kenz was into vinyls we probably wouldn't have run into each other."

She sighs heavily and his hairs stood on end as the breath sent shivers up his spine. His grip tightened about her shoulders. This was real. She was nestled in his arms and he felt as if he could protect her from it all. Even from himself. God he loved her.

'What did she say? Lindsey,' Peyton asked quietly.

'Just asked how I was and all. Mac interrupted before it got away from me,' he chuckled.

Peyton's brow raised. She knew her baby looked just like her. It was a little satisfying to know. The way that woman shoved the ring in her face with tears in her eyes as if she just won a medal not his heart.

'She wasn't awful was she?'

'Lindsey no she does the same thing every time I see her but she's just not you,' he spoke. His finger was absentmindedly caressing the side of her waist as if hypnotizing her.

'I meant Mackenzie. She wasn't rude or anything was she?'

He noticed the way the girl in his arms seemed to answer distractedly. His touch still had that affect on her mind. His hope soared. He could be bold if he wanted to. No, he was going to be. She had asked him to move in only moments ago.

'I didn't really care. Lindsey and I didn't end very well so my little girl being innocently insulted that someone interrupted our time together is warranted. Besides we haven't seen each other in a week so you know how possessive Mac gets.'

'She gets that from you', Peyton let out a chuckle.

He shifted his position underneath her putting both legs on the couch before turning such that his back was resting against the arm of the couch. Before she could comprehend his change in posture she found herself snugly reclined against him, his entire body flush against hers. He smiled down at her gently before placing small kisses against her hairline and forehead.

A small pleasurable moan escaped her awakening him underneath her. Her heart began to panic. What was she thinking asking him to move in? It was the best solution her mind pointed out listing all the pros and cons out mentally. The kisses continued to trail from her hairline to the bridge of her nose setting her body ablaze. Two months ago she would have never dreamt that a pit stop to a used bookstore would have resulted in her dreams coming true. They were supposed to be meeting some potential clients for lunch and instead she ran into him.

A deep groan was elicited from her as he kissed her passionately arching her back dangerously as his head dipped into the kiss. There was a hunger she had buried years ago that she satiated every once in a while with the aide of D batteries. It was aware, it was stirring. They were crossing the line.

She pulled away trying to ignore the delicious feeling of his arousal in between her legs once more. His hooded eyes seemed to be a smoldering sapphire blue that seduced her as she leaned in again to kiss him. She felt his hands cupping her bottom pulling her close to him. The way she rocked against him sent his mind into a tailspin telling him he wouldn't make it if this lasted any longer. Her lips collided with the skin of his neck and he thought he was almost done for as her tongue darted along his pulse line. He swallowed and her mouth twisted around the base following the collarbone and the words began to bubble in his throat.

'God Peyton I love you,' he whispered in her ear.

Word of the day: delayed reaction. She heard the words as her mouth covered his. She processed each one as her tongue massaged his. His groan set the meaning home as she pulled back. He could see her shut down as if the power plug had been pulled. She physically pulled away from him studying him hostilely. She mentally closed herself to him her sparkling green eyes losing their ardor in a slow dwindling manner. She looked to be an emotional wreck as her hands found each other and began to wring. She stood and ran a shaking hand through her hair.

'Um you can take one of the guest rooms upstairs. I can get the building manager to get you a key in the morning' she spoke quietly trying to mask the shaking in her voice.

His heart sank. In an instant he had messed it up and made it awkward for them. He sighed before pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple. She was tense and it hurt to know that she was wary about him but he knew better than to wallow in his self-pity. He had broken her and her would fix her. He had to.


	6. the episodes

He noticed her schedule was far more sporadic than expected. She was always home for Mac but her schedule was bent and manipulated in every which way to please her clients. Most paperwork was done at home with a pen or pencil stuck up in her ponytail. That's when the adorable glasses came out and he caught himself fantasying about her in them.

In high school they used to sit across from each other where ever they were in a comfortable silence. It was somewhat awkward now. He'd click away at his Mac book and she would bustle through her papers while typing away on hers. Then her phone would buzz away and he'd hear a slew of curses that re-ensured she was indeed a sailor's daughter. Lucas would grin to himself and she would flush when she would see it out the corner of her eye. He didn't try to sit with her too often though. He knew she needed time.

It was six months before they were able to have an comfortable conversation that didn't end in her abruptly walking away or both of them being interrupted by phone calls. Mackenzie, with the help of her Aunts, was planning a surprise birthday party for him and it made her distant as well. He floated around their home wondering how he'd possibly made a mistake but when he walked in the house to find his brother and his family, as well as many of his long time friends, yelling surprise he couldn't prevent the boyish grin from spreading across his lips.

His daughter leapt into his arms and he realized in all of his now thirty years of age he was the happiest he'd ever been. Of course the present from his to favorite girls couldn't stop the tears from almost falling.

'First edition Charles Dickens,' he said with a gasp as fingered the spine of the worn book.

'You're such a fruity author man. It's kinda disgusting,' Nathan chuckled as Lucas scooped his little girl in his arms.

'Shut up Nate. He'd better like it for all the money we paid,' Peyton said rolling her eyes.

'Are you threatening me. What if I hated Charles Dickens,' Lucas responded humored.

'You can't hate Charles Dickens, you're a fruity author,' Mackenzie teased. Lucas gripped his chest in mock hurt.

'Mac Daddy is not a fruity author,' Peyton started.

'That's right,' Lucas piped in.

'He's you're fruity dad and a fruity author,' Peyton concluded.

'The abuse in this home,' Lucas exclaimed hurtfully.

'Hey are you guys teasing my son,' Karen said coming up to pat him on the cheek before sitting down.

'Yes mom they said I was fruity even though I was on the cover of GQ mag last year,' he smirked in Nathan's direction.

'Awww kids. You weren't supposed to tell the birthday boy he's fruity. I've been trying to keep that secret for the past thirty years,' his mom said in mock disappointment.

'Mom dad's a certified fruitcake,' Mac said before falling into a fit of laughter.

This sent the room howling into a fit of uncontrollable laughter as Lucas flushed a little. His mom flashed him a playful grin and he glanced at the two girls he lived with grateful to see both of them smiling in earnest.

'I know where you two live,' he said casting his fingers at Peyton and Mac. The elder shrugged not the least affected by the empty threat.

'So its not like you are going to do anything about,' she quipped. A ripple of 'oh's sounded through the room. His eyes narrowed into a squint and he stepped closer causing her to hop from her seat and back away.

'You'd better run,' he said before she took off like lightening.

The words rung out in his ears as he pondered them over in his mind.

_Its not like you are going to do anything about it. _

He was so plagued by his guilt that he hadn't even bothered to come up with a reason why he was there. Yes of course he wanted to be a part of his little girl's life and he was. But he wanted to be a part of Peyton's life too. He wanted everything with her and the pseudo-family they had, the pretending, had finally reached a dead end. It was sometime after those thoughts crossed his mind that the episodes started.

Peyton never imagined what to imagine the night she asked him to move in. It was an awkward suggestion they both struggled with even as he moved his clothes and books into the home. She knew he held onto his own place as a security blanket of some sort. She couldn't blame him she'd done the same.

Her hands wrung over her lap as she lay in her bed with her iPod on. The door was closed. Mac was at school and she was home supposed to be doing work but she couldn't concentrate. Conversation between the two of them had been lighter and she was pondering what she had expected.

She knew what he wanted. She could feel it in the gazes he threw as he passed her in the halls. She idly reviewed the text message from a sweet guy she'd met at a bar the other night. She hadn't responded. He wasn't Lucas.

Her feet padded to the top of the stairs just as Lucas opened the door garment bag and duffle in tow. He was home a day early and the first thing he got view of was her long lean legs padding down the stairwell in only a t-shirt he hadn't seen since he moved in with her. Those adorable glasses were perched at the end of her nose and the hair was swept back in a sloppy ponytail. Best welcome home present ever.

The door clicked behind him as she neared the bottoms of the stairs her sweet smile forming on her lips. Before her foot could find the last stair his lips were on hers and she was pushed back into the plush carpet on the steps. Her body tingled as he cradled her underneath him his tongue wrapping itself about hers. She instinctively wrapped a leg around him as he pressed himself closer to her and he growled at the contact. Their heads bobbed and he could feel her smile as she raked a hand through his unruly hair.

He pulled back and straightened himself before giving her a hard stare. She watched as he backed away a little waiting for her response to his gesture. She stood and walked upstairs to her room and shut the door.

There was a time in the laundry room a week later. Mac had just come home from school and she was in the kitchen eating her after school snack. Lucas was headed in to find out what time she had her piano lessons. He didn't make it. Instead he was accosted by an ivory arm, which dragged him into the room and shut the door. Her lips dragged across his jaw line and along the collar of his Henley. His hands fell under her skirt hoisting her around his waist as he clutched a fist full of hair. The way she smelled lit a fire in him. In an instant she was set firmly on her feet and walking out the door. Two hands rested on the dryer as he caught his breath.

His favorite had to be the particular incident in which Peyton's shower backed up and she was forced to use the common hall shower. He had her pinned to the hall beneath him as he opened the towel to cover her body feverishly in bone chilling kisses. In an instant the towel was closed and before she could protest or retaliate Mac was skipping down the hall ready for her trip to the museum. Needless to say she made sure her shower was repaired the same day.

**A/N: So busy this past year doing many great things but I finally have had time to update this story and the other 2. This is a MULTI_CHAPTER UPDATE! So pls do enjoy and review. **


	7. TALK!

When asked if he was seeing anyone at the premiere of his new movie he deftly avoided the topic.

When asked if she was seeing anyone at the album release party of her latest artist she simply shrugged and said 'Who knows'.

Famous last words.

Mackenzie Rose Scott. Brooke Davis protégé and fledgling matchmaker.

The morning of the plan there was an episode between the two targets. Target one was wearing his missing t-shirt and nothing else. Of course Target two discovered the latter bit of information as his hands moved under the garment while he pressed her between himself and the kitchen table. She was playing dirty now. Walking around the house with no bra was one thing. No underwear. Well double damn.

'You're killing me,' he whispered in her ear.

Her only response was a throaty groan. The pounding of overly excited footsteps sounded above them and the two parted quickly. Lucas to the stool located at the island and Peyton back to the stove to flip the pancakes. He watched lustily as her left thigh quivered somewhat.

'Mummy, Daddy are you ready for my surprise tonight,' Mac's voice sounded as she climbed into the bar stool next to her father. Peyton turned in time to catch the Eskimo kiss between father and daughter before turning back to take the pancakes off the stove.

'So what is this surprise you have planned,' Lucas asked humoring his daughter. She swiveled her head dramatically.

"Nu-uh Daddy. It's a surprise," she said wagging her finger at him.

"Yeah it's a surprise, duh," Peyton chimed in as she slid their breakfast in front of them.

Lucas gingerly cut into his pancakes.

"It's not like they are going to ooze with batter Lucas," she huffed.

"I'm just getting used to the fact that you haven't burnt them," he argued.

"Daddy mommy's been a good cook," Mackenzie informed him as she drowned her pancakes in syrup.

Lucas and Peyton eyed the drowned pancakes warily. Maybe they really were bad parents considering all the sugar she was about to consume.

"Honey don't you think you used to much," Lucas asked gently removing the bottle from her grasp.

"No."

"Yeah Luc I think she missed a spot," Peyton said with a chuckle.

"Hey why do I have to be the bad cop," he asked as he watched his daughter devour the food in front of her.

"Cause I got a promotion to the good cop," Peyton said with a sweet laugh, "Besides I'm going to head up to shower."

"Need any help," Lucas asked with a wolfish smirk.

She shot him a surprised look and he watched as her face flushed while the hair on her arm stood on end. He arched an eyebrow back at her and she simply shook her head before going upstairs.

"Daddy, Can you make more pancakes," Mackenzie asked.

"Baby there's a full plate on the counter," Lucas said motioning over to the plate near the stove.

"All gone," Mackenzie said flashing him her very own wolfish grin.

Lucas looked down at her shocked for a moment.

"Sure Kenz," he said standing up to cook.

"Now you're not allowed back in 'til six and don't be late," Mackenzie said very seriously as she literally pushed the two adults out of the front door.

Lucas stared at Peyton before shaking his head at her.

"She's so bossy sometimes," he said with a small laugh.

"Yeah she's spoiled," Peyton agreed.

"So what are we gonna do for five hours," Lucas asked looking at her.

"Um well I was just gonna go shopping downtown," Peyton said with a shrug.

"For vinyls," Lucas asked with a smirk.

"Well yeah. I leave all the girly shopping to Brooke," she said with a shrug, "What do you plan on doing."

He smiled and stepped closer invading her personal space.

"Following you around Manhattan," he said softly.

She blushed furiously at these words. His head leaned forward and she tasted his lips slowly. He took a step closer to her savoring her taste luxuriously in his mouth. He rolled his tongue back and forth gently drinking in her taste. This kiss unlike the others was slow and sure. There bodies were now flush against one another and it wasn't until she groaned softly that he pulled away. He grins at her devilishly and grabs her hand.

"Come on you we only have _five_ hours," he drawls sarcastically letting his southern accent coat each word thickly.

She giggles and follows him as they head out.

They are walking together this time with their feet taking sure steps as they pace down Broadway. Its hot and humid and despite this he tugs her hand close as they blend into the crowded city street. She can't remember the last time she laughed and giggled so much. He keeps sending her soft gazes thinking his pure black aviators are hiding them. But she can literally feel his eyes raking over her as the hairs of her hands, shoulders, arms, legs stand on edge every time he takes her in. She decided to surprise him and instead of veering down University place she has conveniently ignored it and now she's leading them down Broadway waiting for him to recognize exactly where they are. He is leaning close and his nose brushes against hers and all she wants to do is let go and kiss him without a care but she doesn't because for all the anonymity she thinks they have its only a matter of time before someone catches them and then whatever privacy they have is over.

He sees it just as he's pulled away from her for the umpteenth time. He can barely get enough of her even though they've barely spoken about their relationship or even hashed out their problems. They'd started playing their favorite music and lyrics game again. The one where one says the lyrics and the other guess the band or calls a bluff. She's pretty good at calling his. But now he can think of a better way to spend his day so when he pulls away to see where she's led him he can't but embrace the warm comfort he always feels around her.

He'd been pretty sure they'd walked past University and he knew she would be put out she'd been to distracted but he didn't care. When he saw the store though he literally dragged her behind him forgetting all about her desires to go to a record stop. The Strand was the mother of all bookstores and as an author he couldn't help but race in to find something amazing.

She let him pull her along as he zig-zagged through the store to the llt section. Mac was the same way in the same store. She smiled against his chest as an arm wrapped around her while he stood in front the oversized bookshelf clearly searching for something. It really was a good day.

"I can't believe you made us late," he teased

"We wouldn't have been late if I didn't have to drag you out the last store," Peyton gave him a look.

"Says the girl hold twenty vinyls," he shot right back, " You could've got an assistant to get them for you for prob half price on the web."

"But half the fun in getting awesome records is shopping for them. I mean absolutely where can you find awesome record shop like..,"

"You're late."

They were interrupted by Mackenzie, who was wearing her mother's favorite scowl and a tuxedo. Her hair was braided in two French braid and her gloved hands curled at her hips.

"Your mom got lost in the store," Lucas thumbed his finger at Peyton.

"Why would you let her go in the record store," was the shrill respond.

"Cause I went to the bookstore."

"You went to the bookstore without me."

"I brought you something back."

"But half the fun is looking," Mac whined.

"Told ya," Peyton said walking past the two,

Lucas simply rolled his eyes.

"Well now you only have forty five minutes to get dressed for my surprise," Mac said squaring her shoulders before marching herself in the kitchen.

The two parents looked at each other oddly before heading upstairs together. And as always Lucas' heart twisted a little as Peyton went to her room while he went to his.

Slow shower steam curled about her pruned finger as she dries herself off. She is trying not address the tugging in her stomach that's always there when he is his room and she is in hers. She leans forward to the mirror to brush her teeth looking at her eyes. They are the same green as his favorite shirt but the shirt is so old she can't remember if he bought it before or after he'd been with her. She clicks the automatic toothbrush off and stands up straight before tucking the towel around her and heading to the bedroom.

He sits in his room holding a small black velvet box while water beads run off his back. He is staring at it oddly daring himself to open it and look at the glinting stone inside. He'd forgotten he brought it with him and discovered it while rummaging for a pair of boxer briefs.

"You can change the sky all you want son but changing your mind will be a lot harder"

The weight of the words bore down on him as he sat on the edge of his bed fingering the velvet. When the woman across the hall first turned them down he hadn't even bothered to try to continue their relationship. Instead he'd fled the scene of the crime and had run home to his mentor with his tail between his legs. After a firm berating the older man's voice softened and he uttered the words kindly patting the boy's shoulder.

"…You can change the sky…"

He'd traveled for such a long time before settling in New York hoping the city would wash out her memory.

"…But changing your mind…"

He looked up to his door as it opened quickly and his little girl poked her head in.

"Dad you're not even dressed," she cried sullenly.

He clutched the box tightly as she came in and sat on the bed.

"What's wrong daddy?"

He studied the little girl before him before tapping her nose gently.

"Nothing Kenz," he says with a small smile.

"I won't tell I promise," her eyes widen in a pout that earned her many of treats over the years.

"I just wish I had done things differently with your mom sometimes."

"Well you're here now," she says innocently enough.

"Yeah I know. "

"So cheer up and get dressed so I can get your surprise started," the little girl said squishing her father's face in her hands before springing off the bed to the door.

Lucas sighed before looking down at the black velvet box once more.

"Finally," Mackenzie said as the two made their way downstairs.

Lucas tugged at the collar of his dress shirt as he watched Peyton's hips swing gently in front of him as she made her way down the stairs. Mackenzie's smile lit up perfectly as both her parents followed her towards the back of the house.

"Wel-come to-uh Luigi's," she said in the best Italian accent she could muster.

Peyton snickered and Lucas elbowed her before playing along.

"Thank you miss do you have a table for two," Lucas asked grabbing Peyton to him.

She blushed fiercely squirming away from him as they had yet to show any affection towards one another in front of Mac.

"For you-uh I have just-uh da table for you-uh," Mackenzie before proudly marching her parents towards the mezzanine balcony.

The smell of fresh Italian food awaits them as Mackenzie leads them to their table.

"U Sit, U Sit," she motions to them as Lucas grabs Peyton's chair for her.

She smiles sweetly at her before gently kissing her on her fore head.

"Now you-uh talk," Mackenzie says, " and you-uh don't-uh come in the house until you-uh do."

Before they could question it Mackenzie scampered back into the house and they heard the glass doors slam behind them. Brooke's face appeared waving at them before the shades were quickly drawn and the lights cut inside the home.

"Did she really just lock us out the house," Lucas asked incredulously.

He crosses the balcony towards the doors but nothing. Instead several blinds part and he sees Brooke Davis's mischievous smile leering back at him.

"TALK," Mackenzie and Brooke shout at the same time.

"I guess we should talk about us then," Peyton said nervously.

An: yea I kno update was years in the making…been studying for grad school and job hunting. Besides I've been working on my own novel so this obviously is just an exercise when I have a writer's block.


	8. Truths and Uncertainty

He watched her nervously pick at her nails before examining the beds intently.

She eyes him while he scratches his neck and squints his eyes to take in her view of the city.

There are those retrospective times when you consider all your rights and wrongs. Times where you sit and think whether you could do it right again or would you do it wrong again. Times where you re-imagine a mistake or relive a victory. There is triumph and there is failure. But it's funny when your in the moment. There's a pivotal moment in your life and you are living it recording it in your heart. A time to shine and time to do your best you…be all you can be… seize the day. There's a pause because you really don't know what the outcome will be. Uncertainty.

He nods in her direction as if he's deciding something before looking at the food.

"I guess Italian was a good idea for this then," Lucas spoke softly.

She nodded sitting down at the table. When she'd picked the furniture out here she couldn't help but think of home. Of outdoor parks sitting by a river and a basketball court. Maybe that's how she'd ended up with heavy comfortable wooden pieces. Stuff you could sink into and feel like home. Maybe sub-consciously she wanted to be home to have a piece of him even he never chose to come into her life again. But he had so she wasn't sure what it really meant or maybe she wasn't really sure what it could mean. Uncertainty.

They shuffled around some getting comfortable. Her, avoiding his eyes and him, staring at his hands.

"I thought we'd gotten somewhere last time," she spoke so softly he barely made her words aid the city noises that rose from the streets below.

"She found the ring and she was threatening to leave and I just…it was stupid," he says before he continues because he knows he has to, "I just wanted to follow through for once. I didn't want a triangle from hell again and be that stupid kid who couldn't make up his mind and I figured I was too much of… no maybe not enough to deserve you or beg your forgiveness and she'd been there so I just went along with it. But she wasn't you and it was so stupid and I was so dumb about the whole thing."

His voice cracks as he speaks and she doesn't have to look at him to know he's angry. His eyebrows are crouched low over his nose and that last crack in his explanation of sorts, indicates he's still hurting about it.

"I just..it numbed me and you were so cold. I mean she shoved that ring in my face like it was race and she'd beat me to the finish line and you just were so angry I was there and then when I asked you what you were doing but you were just determined so I left because I hated myself for coming back a failure and needing you to fix me yet again," she can't hold back the tears if she goes on so she just leaves it at that.

It has to come out this way because neither of them are very good at telling the truth when it counts.

He moves closer to her wrapping an arm around her and she picks at her food hating herself for being so weak at the time. And she still was because if he hadn't went down that street and she hadn't gone into that store then it wouldn't be like this right now.

"Don't do that. Don't do the what if game we both fucked up and I wanted you and still want you and we keep trying cause we both are really good at fucking this up badly," he whispers and she agrees.

They keep acting as if they could possibly read each others minds because sometimes they really can but if they could they would've gotten it right or at least gotten on the same page sooner.

"I wanted to pick up the phone when you started to call but I knew I couldn't," she said quietly, " You seemed determined to be happy with her and I just couldn't be the bad news bear again."

"But you couldn't have been…. I just sometimes think it was best you didn't then. That I wouldn't have known what to do with Kenz if you'd decided to keep her before I got my head out my ass," Lucas sighs pulling her closer.

They kiss now and she lets tears slide down her face because she knows exactly how bad it could have been for them. To hear him admit that she was probably right just hurt all that much more.

They cuddle closer to each other each relishing the feel of themselves slaked up against the other. They ate more talking gently about other things. Like how they were going to deal with the nosy press or how excited Mac was going to be. But finally, finally, finally he got the nerve to say something he'd been thinking for a while.

"We have got to start talking about stuff or else it will take forever to get married," he said emphatically.

She nodded and smiled, "And asking questions if we don't quite get it."

He smiled then a bright sunny smile before pulling her closer for a passionate kiss. She indulged him before standing to light some candles and turn on the outdoor heat lamps.

"That munchkin is lucky its warms outside. If it was winter I'd strangle her,"

Peyton huffed.

"Peyton."

He states it hesitantly his eyes squinted his hands stroking his chin. She waits patiently because she knows him well enough to know he has more to say. But then again things have been going good for the past couple of months so this is about the time they both fuck it up pretty good.

"Peyton, I don't …I mean I know its your place but I don't…," he sighs because he wants to be the male and assert himself but that damn feminist movement.

She waits patiently sitting up a little.

"I hate us having separate bedrooms," he says finally.

"Oh," she says. Well she hated that part too. But where they ready I mean they should be ready they'd been so close so many times…oh.

"Oh," he asks.

"Oh," she says putting a little bit of emotion to the word.

"So I should still keep my apartment then," he asks dejectedly.

"No, no," she states nervously rubbing his knee. She pats it twice.

"Peyt honey we have to talk to each other," he reminds her.

"Yea but its like our third first time," she says trying to think things through.

He can't but help but laugh at that.

"So I can sell my place then."

"Oh yea I just was thinking," she says shyly.

He raises and eyebrow.

"Maybe we shouldn't do it. Have sex I mean, " she says.

"Peyton," he practically growls.

"At least not until the wedding," she murmurs as if speaking to herself really.

"Wedding," he says hesitantly.

"Yeah that's the whole point isn't it," she says patting his knee again.

"Oh," he repeats the word again.

"Yep."

She agrees to something what he's not sure. And then he remembers that he'd said it first. So all the running the arguing the chasing the fighting this is what it was for. It had brought her right here and him right next to there and that's how it went. They were at that point in the road when it was time to get it right and walk in straight line towards each other.

"I was such a jerk," he mutters to himself lost in thought.

"Yeah you really were," she agrees a little too enthusiastically.

He pets her hand before clasping them in his.

"It didn't fit her hand very well so she wanted to get it re-sized," he stated simply.

"Okay," she states not really sure where he's going with this one.

"I didn't take it in and I couldn't bring myself to tell her I hadn't taken it in. I remember just staring at it when she gave it to me thinking Peyton would hate me if I gave her a ring meant for her. And I knew that you'd wouldn't like what I was doing to her and it was like if you'd approved I may have went through with it and said I do but I knew you'd gone cause I'd already tried calling but I neve," he continued.

Her eyebrows raised. She couldn't say she was sympathetic towards _her_ but she'd say she was disappointed in him. That wasn't the same guy she'd dated in high school.

"She'd found out when she called in a couple of weeks later," he sighed heavily.

"Wow."

"It was after I agreed to have a quick wedding."

"Oh you really were dumb," Peyton says in shock.

"You make my brain stop working sometimes," he says smoothly.

She laughs at this as he draws her closer to kiss her hard. She's not sure what or why that's caused this bout of passion after a story like that but she allows herself to be gathered to him.

He loves her he knows that. And he's damaged some really good people trying to come to that conclusion. He'd been so foolish but he'd made it right and he believed he was better for it.

"Maybe no sex is a bad idea," she husks and instantaneously the atmosphere is heady with desire.

They decide to take advantage of their current exile. His lips are running over lines and curves he hasn't seen in years. They've only gotten more defined a little more absolute.

She grasps him her arms holding tightly because there is still a very small part of her that thinks he'll disappear in the morning.

They retreat now towards the edge of the patio. There's a portion that overlooks the city and gives them a clear view of the Hudson. The night sky is littered with twinkling lights and the faint echoes of neon signs flashing. But they don't wonder at it. He can only smell her only feel her now. He presses her close indenting the cushions beneath them and she moans. She cries out for him and he's lost. So lost.

Her lips drag across his shoulder before she bites him hard. He's entered her after all this time and god there was nothing like it. Hot steamy reams of silk engulf him and his breath is halted as he murmurs not really knowing or saying anything in particular.

He loves her.

He may have said it just then.

He's not sure.

Her body meets his and she cries for him this time. Had he gone this long without the truth? Because that was what they were sharing. There was no lie. No perfunctory movement and mechanical responses. No this was the truth. This was him loving her and her loving him and there was no end or beginning to it. The tugging they feel is strong and the rip exploded with the delicious rendering of completion. He's spent. She's purring and her body pulses like an amplifier at a concert.

"So worth it," she whimpers.

His lips cover hers and within moments they are lost again.


End file.
