He'd hardly registered her presence in the first place before his office door was slammed harshly, a single slip of paper thrust on his desk.

Expensive ivory paper with burgundy embossed lettering.

Paper which had, in the preceding month, generated more discussion than he ever would have thought possible.

Lucas could remember muttering a vague approval of it in the not too distant past, yet now, he had the distinct feeling that it was betraying him. Giving him away somehow, and making everything worse.

Which was ridiculous and illogical.

One look into her eyes reminded him that things couldn't really have gotten any worse.

"What the fuck is this, Lucas?" she asked, almost tiredly but with a certain tell tale archness in her tone.

He wasn't quite sure how to respond, sensing that stating the obvious would not be the way to decrease her irritation.

"Seriously," she prompted, after a moment's silence.

"Well it's…" Lucas swallowed. "It's a wedding invitation."

Peyton's gaze was harsh and relentless, as if daring him to look away from her.

"Yeah," she replied eventually, quietly and deliberately. "It was quite the surprise to me when it arrived in the mail this morning."

Again, Lucas proceeded with caution. "I – I guess we should have given people a heads up that they were on the way," he admitted falteringly. "But the wedding's only six weeks away now so-"

"No, no, no. Lucas," Peyton halted him with the palm of her hand, her tone withering. "You guys are getting married, it's not such a stretch to imagine that you'd want to invite people. The fact that you invited me…?" her voice rose questioningly. "Yeah, that was kind of a shocker."

Lucas looked genuinely surprised. "Peyton," he admonished gently,"come on, as if we're going to not invite you – you're one of my closest friends, I've known you since high-"

"Oh, cut the bullshit," she said sharply, cutting him off again. "I can't listen to it any more."

He shook his head. "Well then I don't know what you want me to say Peyton," he replied in disbelief. "Because it's the truth."

Peyton laughed humourlessly. "The truth?!" she exclaimed. "I realise the concept is confusing you lately Lucas, but I'm pretty sure you know that isn't it. But, honestly, I didn't come here for some feeble explanation about our longtime friendship and how much it means to you," she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

"Honestly, Luke," she continued, "honestly I came here to ask you how the fuck you have the audacity to invite me to your wedding."

His mouth gaped.

"I mean, really," Peyton continued forcefully, "it's not enough that you screwed me over a hundred different times in high school, and then left me alone in a hotel room the morning after proposing to me. It's not enough that you continue to screw me over, kissing me in dark corners whenever the hell you feel like it, then proposing to another woman. But now," she gesticulated wildly, seeming genuinely flabbergasted, "now you want me front and centre to watch you marry her!"

Lucas could honestly say he had never felt more ashamed in his life. He had had some misgivings about inviting Peyton to the wedding. More than once it had occurred to him that he might choke on the words "I do" if he saw her face when he had to say them. But what could he do? This was hardly information to be shared with his fiancée, or, indeed, with any of his family or friends. It was to be suppressed, belittled and, ideally, laughed about in years to come.

Lucas really was an optimist to an absurd degree.

"I'm sorry," he said to her eventually, his face pleading. "Peyton, please believe me, I did not mean to hurt you. I would never, ever, want to hurt you. It's just that everyone's invited, you know? Nathan and Haley and Brooke and all of our friends who we've known forever. I actually thought you might be offended if I didn't invite you."

He sighed, not quite knowing why he was opening this can of worms. "Plus," his voice wavered a little, "it would have looked bad if I hadn't."

Peyton arched an eyebrow. "Bad how?

He looked at her meaningfully, the way he always used to. "You know how."

She did. She knew all to well, in fact. Her non-attendance at the big day was sure to set tongues wagging with the very same speculation, but she'd decided it would be the lesser of two evils. She could live with – once again – being the basis of Tree Hill gossip. But the very thought of having to put on a nice dress and sit there and smile and witness it all…

"Would you come to my wedding, Lucas?" she asked after a long silence, blinking back tears. "Would you willingly – happily, even – come and watch me promise, in front of God and everyone we know, to love another man forever?" Peyton's voice steadied, but lost none of its intensity. "Would you want to watch us dance and kiss and listen to people giving speeches about how perfect we are for each other? Would you do that for me, Luke? Could you do it?"

His mouth was dry and his answer only just barely audible.

"No."

She seemed to soften. "Well then," Peyton answered, as if that was all the conclusion she needed. "Thanks for the invitation, Luke, but I won't be coming to your wedding."

She was hardly out the door when Lucas realised that there wasn't going to be a wedding.

Blah! I have a couple of random one shots - like this one, mostly dialogue-driven and not wildly interesting - stored on my computer from ages ago. I don't know why, but i am randomly awake at 3am and i just thought i'd post one. Hope it passed some time for you :).