A/N- Hey everyone, its Emily! I haven't posted a new story in…well, like, ever, and last time I did, I never updated. But now I finally have my computer fixed with Word, so I'll surely update! Basically this story is about Brucas being married and having a daughter. It's mainly from her point of view, sometimes in first person, sometimes in third. Brucas does fight. BL is still love though.

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She stood in the kitchen doorway, secretly listening to her parents argue. She was only four years of age, but she understood what was going on. Hiding the skirt of her pink dance tutu, Angela whimpered at the words being used. Her mommy never cursed, never once in front of Angela, and her father never raised his voice. Let alone ever betray either girls' trust.

She peeked her head into the kitchen, to glance at the clock on the microwave. She was too young to read the time on anything else. "Lucas, you son of a bitch!" Brooke Davis Scott's voice rang out into the large, marbled, kitchen space. Angela jumped back behind the door as her mother began speaking. "How can you do this to me? How can you do this to Angela? She's your daughter for God's sake!"

Lucas narrowed his eyes on his wife. "Brooke you have no right going there! Remember when you had your drunken escapade over to Chase's house last year?"

Her mother snapped back immediately. "I did not sleep with him twice! I kissed him. Once. You slept with her, twice!" Angela could feel the tears in her eyes welling up. She didn't want her parents to fight. They always did.

But it wasn't always that way. Angela's parents had gotten married, fresh out of college. They were high school sweethearts, and found they never wanted to part. After being married for seven months, Brooke had gotten pregnant, and nine months later, Angela was brought into the world.

They named her Angela, because she was so angelic. They both agreed. She didn't put up much of a fight while Brooke was trying to deliver. It was almost as if she was doing her mother a favor. They called her names like Angel, or Angie, and she was a little ballerina. But if her mommy didn't drive her to dance class in ten minutes, she might not have been.

"It was Peyton! It was fucking Peyton! After the scandals in high school, when we were just dating, you'd think you might have learned your lesson. But no, we are married, and that didn't stop you. Either time!" Brooke continued to spew at her husband.

Deciding she wanted to get to dance, Angela dragged her brown bear into the kitchen, and stood silently waiting for somebody to notice her. Getting ready to yell back, Lucas opened his mouth widely, but shut it when he caught glimpse of his tiny little girl. He knelt down, and placed a hand on her back.

"Angie, baby…" He began, but wasn't sure he was in the position to say something to his daughter, who may have witnessed the conversation going on before.

"I have ballet." She stated simply, hugging her bear to her chest, and swaying her body.

Lucas pulled himself back up, and turned towards Brooke. She wore a frown, embarrassed by how she was acting and speaking in front of Angie. All she did was nod.

"Okay baby, I'm going to take you. Let me go get your dance slippers." She said innocently, as she brushed by her husband, knocking him on the shoulder. Angela witnessed all of this, and looked at her father who looked down.

When lifting his head he caught a second glimpse at his daughters pleading eyes. They were big and blue, like his own. But other than her eyes, she was the spitting image of her mother.

"Ang…" He was about to begin, but Brooke cut him off, while entering. "Come on sweetie, we don't want to be late." Angela dropped her bear and scurried over to her mother, leaving Lucas in the dust.

Brooke picked up the little girl in both arms and carried her to the front door. She placed her back on her two feet. "Put your arms out." Angela did as told, and her mother slipped both of her arms into the sleeves of her pink jacket. "That's good, let's go dance!" Brooke enthused.

Angela nodded her head vigorously. She was always excited for dance, even when in the worst of times, dancing made her smile. She reached up to the door knob, and pulled it open. "Bye Daddy!" She called to her father before racing out to the car.

Brooke shut the door behind her before giving Lucas a chance to answer. Lucas bowed his head, once again, in his misery. He didn't know why he had done what he did. He was always a good husband. He was a great father. But he was now nothing but a cheater. He slept with his wife's best friend. His daughter's Godmother! The worst part was that he had done it willingly. Twice.

And it wasn't as if Peyton minded either. The two had been going out, secretly when Brooke had business trips to Paris or Milan. But they had only had physical attraction twice. But it was still considered an affair.

What the hell was wrong with him?

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Entering the studio doors of "Madame Kathaes", Brooke held the door for her daughter to scurry in. The dance studio was very professional. Very expensive. The owner and creator, Kathae Dowel, was very flamboyant. But very well trained. She had Angela's class doing intense pieces, competing in competitions, and she tried convincing them to go out for major companies.

Angela ran to her friends and they all began laughing and giggling. It put a smile on Brooke's face to see her daughter do something she loved so much, and to do it with her best friends. She also loved taking Angela to class because her own best friend took her daughter as well. Not Peyton, but Haley James Scott. She was her sister-in-law, not just her best friend.

Taking a seat in front of the window that separated the dance studio with the waiting room, she placed her large Marc Jacobs tote on the seat next to her, reserving a spot for Haley, who was always five minutes late.

Approximately after five minutes, Haley showed up and slid next to Brooke. She smiled, "Hey" Haley greeted simply. Brooke sighed and smiled at her best friend. Haley could sense something was wrong.

"God what did he do this time?" Haley asked, fully-knowing. "He did the same thing he did last time." Brooke responded, getting straight to the point so she could dodge Haley's questions.

This made Haley gasp, and she shook her head. "I'm going to have to have a talk with him. God brooke, how can you let him get away with that?" Brooke watched Angela prance around the studio, while responding. "I'm not. He wont."

Haley knew Brooke would hold onto her word. When it came to boys, males, husbands, Brooke always stood her ground. Haley left it at that, as she pondered, then turned towards the window to watch her daughter, Amanda.

Brooke chuckled as the girls strutted across the floor. They jumped, leaped and hopped all the way through. When it was Angela's turn, she started out goofily, as she skipped and spun. On one spin, she lost her balance, and feel to her knee's, scrapping one as she went down.

Her lip quivered as her eyes turned watery. Brooke abruptly jumped onto her six inch heels and pushed open the door to the studio. Kathae was holding one of Angela's elbows, helping her up. Brooke rushed to her daughter's side, and wrapped her arms around her, rocking her back and fourth.

"Shh," She hushed her baby girl "its okay honey, you're very strong." She said as she rubbed her daughter's back. "Come on, let's leave a little early today, 'Kay?" She asked, and Angela answered by nodding her head, and taking her mother's hand.

Brooke led Angela to the door and Angela rushed to the coat rack and pulled her jacket off, while Brooke thanked Kathae.

On the way home, Brooke's cell phone began to ring. It was Barbie Girl, by Aqua. Peyton's ring tone. It was the only tone that was different from the techno beats that were already on the phone when bought. She glanced up into the rearview mirror, to find Angela watching out the window. She reached over into the passenger seat that held her tote, and pulled out her phone.

She pressed the end button, signaling the end of the song. The phone chirped, and Brooke had received two voicemails, and six missed calls. One from Lucas and five from Peyton. She sighed as she turned the car into the Scott mansion. With Brooke running a successful clothing line and Lucas being an award winning novelist, the house was in their price range.

Angela loved to show off her house to everybody. She definitely had her mother in her.

Parking the car in the garage, Angela un-buckled her seat belt and climbed out of her car seat. The door opened, and Lucas stood there, smiling when his daughter ran up to him. "Daddy I got a scrape!" She pouted her lips, and her father lifted her and carried her into the house. Without greeting his wife.

Placing her down on the counter-top in the kitchen, which less than 62 minutes ago they couple had been fighting to the death. "Where Angel?" Angela pointed to her left knee and Lucas bent down and kissed it, raspberry style. "Any better?" Angela giggled and nodded her small head, sending her brown locks flying all over the place and into her face. "Much better daddy!"

He smiled and lifted her off the counter. Brooke entered slowly, and Angela paused, fearful that they were going to fight again. She wrinkled her face and yelled out, "No! Stop fighting! Stop no! You cant get a divorce!"

Brooke bit her lip, near tears, while Lucas held his mouth open, surprised that his daughter even knew what a divorce was. Brooke shot her head into her hand. Lucas was first to say something.

"Angela, now why would you think we were getting a divorce?" Angela just shook her head, and ran towards the hallway, and up the grand staircase, leaving the two parents to be devastated.

PLEASE REVIEW! Tell me what you think, or if you have any critique. Also give me any ideas of what you want to happen. I may take them into consideration:. Next chapter may be in the future, but it may not. I still have to decide.

If you want to make my day, you'll hit that button down there. :D

-Emily