A/N: Guys, i'm really sorry, i have no idea what happened to my story the first time around but i'm trying again and the next chapter will be up tomorrow! Thank you for all the reviews, i hope this works this time!

So this has been rolling around in my head for a little while and will be replacing the hole in my heart that forms when TLC finally ends. I just wanted to explore Peyton in a different field where she's top of her game and still good with her hands (art, surgery, i guess there's kind of a connection heh)- and how she and Lucas would come together in it when she's so meticulous with her life and Lucas is the kind of guy who just throws himself into things and deals with consequences later and basically drives her crazy. Because everybody loves a bit of sexual tension. This is also going to be a little bit more adult than my last two LP fics- I wanted to do something a bit grittier. Everyone from the OTH world will be in it and working in or around the hospital and i should note now, RN are married so RUN FOR THE HILLS if their scenes will make you hurl. They're not centric but they will be floating around throughout. Hopefully some of you guys stick around to read this even after that :D

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or any of the characters mentioned. Or Matt Bomer.

Peyton spends her days working on tiny hearts. She melds and stitches and fixes them up to go on and face the battlefield for years to come. Some days it's a pancreas barely visible without a microscope or the smallest liver imaginable. Whatever the problem, she loves being able to fix it. She's good at this; she thrives on the adrenaline and the rush she gets in surgery. The power of being a goddess in the OR is better than anything else she's ever known. It's better than love, sex, alcohol, anything. Nothing can touch her when she dons her dark green scrubs and walks through that sliding door, hands held high, ready to cut.

When she's over an operating table her word is law, no-one disputes her, people learn from her and fight for spots on her surgical team just to see her in action. She's a fierce teacher, pushing those around her to push themselves to search for answers and to become as excellent a surgeon as she herself is. She's not being egotistical, it's just the truth. She doesn't have a family outside of Rachel and Nathan, she's barely been out of the hospital for almost a decade and the longest relationship she's had in forever is with her cat, Cas. But she has her job. And she rocks at it.

She doesn't really do people in general and yet somehow, she gets kids. She can sit with a four year old and colour with her for hours or let a nine year old basketball enthusiast try and teach her a jump shot from his wheel chair- he was better than her and Nathan laughed for hours at her attempts. It's easier with children, she doesn't have to open up about her feelings or make needless small talk; instead she can let them talk about what makes them happy, see their eyes light up when she comes in with wings on and has a pair for every little girl in her care. The boys always love it when she paints her face and bounces around the ward with a bow and arrow, amusing the ones who can't get up and letting the ones who can chase her. It's simple. Operating? Looking after her patients? That she can do.

And being in theatre, shaping and cutting until the problem is fixed, it's her magic talent. It's the one thing she knows she's good at. It doesn't matter how long a procedure takes, or how difficult it is, the world melts away until she steps away from the table and knows that she has given her everything, done her utmost, to save the life in her hands.

And then she gets to wave her tiny souls off and know that they're alive because of the work she and her team have done. It's the best feeling in the world.

At six Peyton rolled over in the on-call room and reached for her buzzing pager. She swung her legs over the side of the tiny bed, glancing at the number before jumping up, tugging her scrub shirt over her long grey sleeper top. Her mind was already clear and alert, ready for the day and she pulled her hair back and grabbed her charts before heading out of the door. She made her way down the corridor towards the nurse's station and dropped her charts on the counter.

"Casey did oncology call?"

Casey took her charts and nodded, "about five minutes ago Doctor Sawyer; they said they'd take Nicky Hedlund this afternoon."

"Good, thanks. The ER paged?"

"Yep, trauma coming in, ETA eight minutes."

"Is Doctor Gattina on call?"

"She's still in surgery."

"Right," she nodded at the charge nurse and then made her way down the stairs. She barely had time to get to a gym or do any serious kind of exercise so the elevators had to be avoided at all costs. Once in the ER she buried herself in the blur of shouting and fast paced traumas. A tree had collapsed on a car and three teenagers were in with a mix of bruising, cuts and one ruptured spleen. Cabot came down to take the spleen up to the OR once Peyton had assessed and called back to her from the elevator that they needed to talk later. Peyton sighed inwardly, more complicated hospital politics to look forward to.

The OR was like home for Peyton.

Her town house was gorgeous, set back from the road with a front lawn that was perfectly manicured and a cheery tree that blossomed unnoticed every year. She hadn't touched the oven in the kitchen for years (excepting the one tragic occasion she and Rachel tried to make Nathan a birthday cake and almost burnt down the entire place) and there were kitchen applicants people had bought her over the years that were still in their plastic wrappings. The living room held a wall length floor to ceiling book case and a sofa that still looked brand new. The only rooms she actually used were her bedroom, the study opposite and the bathroom. Her bedroom was a mix of deep pinks and creams and if the staff at the hospital actually ever saw it they'd probably drop dead. The huge mural on the wall opposite the bed changes once a year when she turns off every pager, cell phone and laptop she owns and paints for an entire day. Rachel jokes that it's like a normal person's version of a holiday- over the years it's become less of a joke and more of a concern.

The study was by far her favourite room with another giant book case holding every medical journal she's ever read and back issues of Q and Rolling Stone that she hasn't had the time for but are waiting for that elusive day off she'll eventually take. Black and white photographs covered the wall; Rachel and Nathan on their wedding day, one of her mom and dad with Peyton when she was eight- right before the accident and endless shots of herself, Rachel and Nathan through the years including one of Nathan with a mullet and a glittery pink star around one eye from when he was "coerced" into performing Queen at one of their regular bar's karaoke nights. He tries and fails to take it down every time he's in the study. There was a worn black sofa that Cas lived on and Peyton sometimes (more often than not) fell asleep on and a massive oak desk always covered in papers. There was an order to the mess though; papers on the far left underneath a purple tab were for research papers, yellow tabs were present patients, green for closed cases she still wants to go over and blue was personal- letters, bills, statements- the personal pile was always the smallest.

When she first moved in she had a second bedroom but over the years it's become the room where she keeps her record collection. It's the one thing she makes time for and often the thrum of music through the floorboards is what sends her to sleep after a difficult case. Mostly though, she barely has time to come home and feed Cas let alone sleep on a comfortable surface. Sometimes when she potters into the living room, there's a layer of dust on the mantelpiece or a coffee cup she left on the table three months ago and forgot was there. The contents are always kinda gross.

Her house is great, she's fond of it, but it's not her home. It doesn't make her feel at ease, it doesn't fit her like a second skin. She doesn't belong there.

She stepped through the sliding door, hands held high and her eyes focused on the child in front of her.

"Hi Thomas, you remember me?"

The boy looked sleepily up at her, "Doctor Sawyer?"

"You remember! Well we know not to mess with that big brain of yours," he gave her a tiny smile and she gave him a warm look, "just gonna get rid of that pesky appendix and you'll be back to your usual awesome self in less than no time ok dude?"

"Are you gonna stay?"

"I'll be here the whole time Tom, right next to you ok?"

He sighed, satisfied, "ok."

"Alright," she nodded at her anaesthesiologist Quinn and then looked back down at Tom, "can you count down from ten for me sweetie?"

"Ten...nine...eight..." His eyes drooped closed and she cracked her neck as she moved around the table. "He set?"

"All set."

"Thanks Quinn, scalpel!"

She never needed to ask twice, if she wasn't as thorough as she was naturally, she wouldn't even need to double check her patient was under; she knew her team had things under control, hell her team was perfect.

This was where she belonged.

At the end of the surgery (twenty eight minutes thank you very much) she pulled off her favourite scrub cap and ran a hand through her hair, "I'll meet you in post-op," she called to Brooke. The brunette nurse waved a hand and shot dimples at Peyton before pushing Thomas down the corridor.

She made her way to the locker room feeling pleasantly buzzed and then scowled when she saw Chris loitering on one of the benches.

"Hey there sunshine!"

"It's way too early Keller," she snapped, "come back at twenty past never."

He sat up smirking and clutching at his chest, "oh blondie you cut me deep, care to stitch me up?"

She glowered at him and then moved over to her locker silently.

"What, you just gonna ignore me in the hope I'll give up and disappear?"

"That's the plan," she said shortly, pulling at the door and dropping her cap inside.

Chris slid up next to her and rested an arm over the open door, "don't be like that Sawyer, you know you want me."

"Yeah?" She twisted to look at him and then leant in close; he smirked and leant forward to meet her.

When they were a breath away from each other she grabbed his ear and he screeched, "shit Sawyer!"

"Get this close to me again and I'll make sure you end up with a not so pretty scar right across your chest when I remove your heart Chris."

"Ah fuck!" He pulled away and clutched at his ear, "jesus what the hell?"

She shrugged, "I would have broken some of your fingers but I'm a professional and I know how much your hands are worth, unfortunately."

He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked again, "I could make the knowledge not so unfortunate if you want."

"You never learn do you?" She sighed exasperatedly and slammed her locker shut, "how do you not get this Chris? Years of working with me and you still haven't worked out that I don't sleep with anyone else wearing scrubs all day?"

"I only wear these when I'm operating."

She rolled her eyes, "I give up."

"Weak baby, I'd have thought you had another year of insults in you at least." At the door she flipped him off and he laughed, "that's the spirit!"

His manic giggles followed her down the hall and she sighed again. She had no idea why he thought she was a toy he could play with. Of all of her colleagues, Chris was the only one who never showed her any of the respect she knew she'd earned. Hell she knew she could run circles around him in the OR and yet he had never chosen to respect her boundaries. And it sure as hell wasn't because she was an easy target; she'd set a tone early on in her career that was all business, no nonsense and no flirting. She was probably considered a cold hearted bitch by most of the people she worked with and yet, she really didn't care.

As if proving her point the three moronic interns she'd been lumbered with now that Mitchell was off on maternity leave came running up to her in the hall. She'd only accepted the damn kids because they were highly and almost overly qualified and Elizabeth had practically begged- threatening to go into labour on the spot- if she didn't. They had to at least be good for something.

"Doctor Sawyer I have those lab reports you requested."

"Oncology said they'd get back to you on moving the Hedlund case upstairs."

She ignored their presence as she continued to ponder how the hell she could get Chris to back off. She couldn't even set Nathan on him as the two of them seemed to actually like each other.

"Did you want to round on post-op or pre-op patients first? Doctor Mitchell always used to like to check in with her-"

Damn it they were interrupting her thinking time with their babbling. She took a deep breath and then swung round to face them all.

"First of all, I requested those reports before I went into surgery, was there something preventing you from being able to get them in my hands before eight am? Were you perhaps otherwise occupied? Catching up on your beauty sleep?"

"No I-"

She held up a hand, "you don't make excuses Doctor Lively, you just get them done. As my intern I expect you to be competent enough to perform something as mediocre as retrieving lab reports. In the future perhaps I should do it myself to ensure nothing goes wrong in the process."

"I-"

"Secondly, I've already spoken to oncology and they're taking my patient this afternoon, thank you for passing on a message I heard several hours ago Doctor Meester." She turned to look at her final student and raised her eyebrows, "did you care to add to the terrific start you've all made to your morning or can we round Doctor Crawford?"

He barely looked eighteen with floppy bangs falling in his eyes and dimples and she resisted judging him on the spot for being just too pretty to be a doctor.

"No Doctor Sawyer," he flashed her a wide smile and she lifted an eyebrow that immediately killed it; he almost visibly shrank behind Lively.

Peyton inwardly smirked; damn right he should be afraid of her.

"Let's go then," she called before turning on her heel and marching down the corridor, "do you have my notes at least?"

"Of course- they're right here," Meester jumped forward and scuttled along after her. "You have Wahlberg and Benjamin from yesterday's ER trauma, Martin with the kidney transplant, the Gibson case-"

"Doctor Meester, I can read thank you."

"Of course Doctor Sawyer, sorry."

She almost laughed as they followed her into the first patient's room; these kids really had no idea what kind of experience they were in for. She wasn't known for being friendly to interns. Or as Nathan would often say, to anyone that didn't recite procedures in their sleep.

After rounds and a long discussion with their resident social worker Haley James, she had half an hour for lunch and she made her way through the cafeteria to sit at one of the available tables. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her new interns staring at her with terrified expressions as if they were afraid they'd be punished for eating and she rolled her eyes, she hadn't been that mean.

"What's with the three tiny bambis staring your way Goose, you shoot mommy before lunch?"

She snorted and raised an eyebrow at her best friend as Rachel sat down, "they're driving me nuts. Are they still looking?"

Rachel glanced over her shoulder, "boo!" All three interns looked hurriedly back down at their food and she turned back smirking, "not anymore."

"And they think I'm the mean one."

"Honey that's because you are the mean one. I heard one of them get into hysterics earlier because she didn't know if you alphabetised your charts A-Z or Z-A."

Peyton scowled, "that is exactly why I don't have time to baby these interns Rach; they just can't handle paeds."

"Oh yeah," Rachel said teasingly, "paeds is hard core with all the glitter and rainbows."

Peyton twirled her fork around in her hand and considered the red head, "you know, you could take that back, or I could stab your two million dollar hand with this eating implement."

"Please, you think you'd do that and dare face Shephard's wrath?"

"It'd be worth it."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "now that we're done with the daily threat of violence you wanna tell me why I can see your roots from the cash till?"

"I haven't had time to book an appointment," she said crossly, "and they're not that bad."

"When was the last time you breathed non- hospital air Peyton?"

"You first."

"I'm married, I don't have to work at looking hot anymore, it's just natural beauty these days. You on the other hand look like you need a three day spa."

"I've been up all night with traumas!"

"No excuse," Rachel's face turned serious, "sincerely Peyt, you're looking thin, even for you."

She shrugged awkwardly, "yeah well, it's been a long month."

"Have you been getting any sleep?"

"Some."

"I'm worried."

"Don't be."

"Well tough."

"Rach I'm fine."

They had this conversation at least once a week; they were both so good at it the short hand was all that was necessary. One or the other them took on too many cases, too many surgeries and the other pestered them to take care of themselves. They both pretended to resent it but it was how they looked after one another. It had been the same way for over a decade.

Rachel sighed and sat back in her chair, idly picking at the chicken sandwich in front of her, "you got anything good this afternoon?"

Peyton shook her head, "just moving Nicky Hedlund upstairs now that we've removed the last of the tumour."

"You think he'll get through chemo? His prognosis was good right?"

"Yeah I'm pretty positive about it."

"Do you think this place will ever sell chocolate milkshakes?" They both looked up at the third member of their awesome trifecta (Nathan's name for them, not Peyton's) and smiled at the tall and handsome man standing above them.

"Maybe we should start a petition?" Peyton suggested.

He scoffed, "Ppft, we could you know- everyone's so damn scared of you they'd sign their houses away if you asked them to."

"Hey!"

Nathan loosened his tie and sat down at the table looking exhausted.

"Baby you look terrible," Rachel reached for his forehead and he shrugged her away, catching her hand.

"Don't play doctor on me now sweetness, I'm fine," he kissed her hand and then smiled wearily at them both, "how are you?"

His wife frowned, ignoring his question and pushed her carton of apple juice at him, "drink my juice."

"Babe-"

"Drink it."

Nathan acquiesced, rolling his eyes and made a show of draining the carton, "happy?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "done acting like you're five?"

"Hey you married me and you knew how I was then."

"Maybe I was hoping you'd change," she retorted loftily.

"Yeah you never mentioned that in the gushing vows you made about how much you loved me, just the way I was."

"You suck."

"Oh burn."

Peyton cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Nathan, "did you come here for a reason Scott or are you just here to fit in your afternoon flirting appointment?"

Nathan grinned at her, "nah, that's not till two, I've got time for both of you." Rachel pushed one of his fingers back and he yelped in pain, "I'm kidding, Brooke's busy today." She pushed harder and he laughed and tugged his hand away, "ouch! Seriously, kidding! Damn it's so unfair that I can't do that back to you."

"You gotta learn how to fight dirty honey."

"Oh I can fight dirty," he pointed at himself, "lawyer? Anyway," he turned to look at Peyton, "got some news for you and Sawyer."

Peyton looked up from the chart she was re-reading, "bad news?"

"Always such a cynic," he said shaking his head and then scratching at his neck, "but yeah, it's uh- pretty bad."

"Crap, law suit?" She scanned her memory quickly, trying to recall any angry parents, any surgery that hadn't been by the book and somehow flawed. She came up with nothing in 0.5 seconds and frowned, "is it a lawsuit?"

Nathan chuckled, "since when have you ever screwed up anything?"

"Err hellooo? My hen party for a start," Rachel interrupted, "and not to mention my second twenty ninth birthday," she added with a hiss.

Peyton rolled her eyes, "thirty Rach, you turned thirty."

"I did not! You take that back!"

"Guys!" Nathan suddenly looked stressed again and they both turned to look at him, meekly apologetic. Rachel took his hand and rubbed her thumb in soothing circles across his palm and he scrubbed his other hand over his face, "my brother's coming into town."

Peyton raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Lucas the long lost brother is returning? Why?"

Nathan sighed, "he's just finished a tour and now dad's gone-" he paused and Rachel squeezed his hand. Nathan gave her a tiny smile and then continued, "I guess he just thinks it's time to return to the coop."

"When did you speak to him?" Rachel asked softly.

He scrunched up his nose, "he rang about an hour ago- I had to go straight into a meeting where Jack was about to break the news to me that we're welcoming a new surgeon next week and oh hey I actually know him and could I draw up the necessary paperwork. I was still in a damn state of shock. Lucas always was good at ruining the surprise," he said drily.

"Wait," Peyton interrupted, "he's coming to work here?"

"Yup, pretty much straight off the plane. Apparently he thinks giving me a weeks notice is enough but Jack's known for like two months."

"How did I not know about this?"

"Maybe because Jack doesn't run every person he hires past the two of you? He just tells the special people like me," Nathan said smirking.

Rachel scowled, "but why here?"

Nathan's face fell once more, "to make my life a living hell? To drive you crazy? He's bored of army life? Take your pick babe."

"He hasn't been a civilian since he was eighteen, how's he expecting to fit in?"

"More importantly," Peyton sat forward, "is he any good at what he does?"

Nathan chuckled, "you two haven't been this inquisitive since the day you found out I ran into Matt Bomer."

"Best cardiovascular surgeon in the US not currently eating cheesecake at this table," Peyton said firmly, "we were curious."

"And he's a fox," Rachel added, taking another bite of her cheesecake.

"Yeah his boyfriend thinks so too," Nathan said crossly, glowering at his wife. She smirked and stuck out her tongue and he rolled his eyes before continuing, "anyway, I guess he's good Peyt- Jack doesn't just hire anyone."

"Last time he stayed with us I found him asleep in the shower with a sorority chick," Rachel wrinkled up her nose.

"Yeah, haven't had a good time like that since college," Nathan said dreamily.

Rachel kicked his shin under the table, "seriously, is he gonna be taking up space in our living room and eating all my peanut butter again or is he, you know, sticking around this time?"

Nathan shrugged, "hell if I know Rach, the only thing he's ever been committed to is the army- this could be temporary or he might genuinely want to make it work."

"I'll actually get to meet him," Peyton said thoughtfully. Suddenly she clutched her hands together, "whatever shall I wear?"

"Oh god please," Nathan groaned, "there's a reason I've tried to keep him away from you for nearly ten years."

"He can't be that bad," she said smirking and pulling her papers together.

"We had to throw our shower curtain out Peyt," Rachel said pointedly, "he's not exactly... your kind of person."

"What does that mean?"

"Well apart from the obvious, it means I don't like him and I actually give most people at least thirty seconds of my time."

"Hey! I like people."

"You lie, you like five people tops, including Nate and me."

"You're wrong," she said standing; "now it's only four."

"Ha, liar. You love me, find me later we'll get coffee."

She waved goodbye to her friends and rolled her eyes again as she caught all three of the interns jump up and begin to follow her. It was going to be an interesting month. Over the years Nathan had been reluctant to talk about his older brother much and had made sure on both the ocassions Lucas had been Stateside and visiting, Peyton had been banned from dropping around. He had insisted it was for her own good; Lucas wasn't known for being well behaved around women- Rachel would readily attest to that.

But she was curious... Her pager buzzed and she looked down it at, thoughts broken. Whatever Lucas Scott's mystery was, she didn't have time to daydream about him.