Hi, everyone. This is the first fanfic I've ever written. I pretty much wrote the entire thing a while back, and yeah. I didn't establish any hooks for the entire chapter, so that explains why each chapter will forever end dull-y. I'm trying. Well, anyways thank you for the reviews I've gotten. I must say I'm a bit surprised anyone would read it. Feels pretty good. Anyways, thank you so much.

Excuse me for making this story entirely fluff. I wrote this a little after the finale ended--does that justify why this story is BL and BL only? :) I tried to incorporate everything BL from the actual series that seems fit to rejog, or reignite, the passion and love they were once so familiar with.

Once more, thank you. Please let me know if I made any errors.

Before the flight took off, her phone rang. It was from the adoption agency. Baby Angie had arrived, and her parents were very thankful to Brooke for the kind deed she had done. Brooke couldn't help but be jealous of Angie's parents.

"You have me, Brooke Penelope Davis."

She rolled her eyes at her well-intentioned friend. "Lucky me, I got Lucas Eugene Scott," she remarked in a sarcastic tone. But of course, she knew she really would consider herself lucky for having Lucas from time to time.

They watched a sappy movie, better known as The Notebook, before both falling asleep--kind of like the night she spent at his house, sketching some designs for Macy's, and he played with the little girl while watching the older girl. Without even knowing it, Brooke cuddled into his arms, and he rested his head on top of hers, sniffing at the wondrous scent that is her hair. Subconsciously, he was toying with the hem of her dress, and she placed one leg onto his. That's what happens when you ride red-eye and if you're Brooke and Lucas. They even slept through the stewardess' report of their landing and everyone shuffling to get off. All the other passengers had walked off, and there on seats 82A & 82B rested Brooke and Lucas, even more intimate than earlier.

"Sir, ma'am, we've landed at Vegas forty minutes ago. Sorry to disturb you two, but our entire staff is ready to leave."

Embarrassed, Brooke and Lucas wake up a bit confused before repositioning themselves. She smoothes out her dress, and he straightens his collared shirt. It was the best sleep they have had in years. Lucas stands, stretching his arms to the compartment above their seats. Brooke stood under, awaiting to leave. He takes their bags out, swings his around his left shoulders, holds hers in his left hand, and puts his right arm around Brooke. That's the second time in the past twelve hours they left an airport so physically close, with hearts pounding more rapidly and for unclear reasons (at least to them).

"Where are we even staying at?" Brooke asks the tall blonde.

It was nearly one by the time they settled into a cab.

He touches his fuzzy head again. "I haven't, um, booked a room yet," he sniggers. "How about Wynn?"

"Damn, Lucas, you really know how to tempt a girl."

They arrive at the monumental, extravagant, ostentatious resort and casino. The bright lights of the city, the heated and parch weather, along with the beautiful and hideous aspects of Vegas--they knew they were away from home. The two walked on the marble pathway leading to the empty check-in counters.

"Welcome to Wynn. How may I help you?"

"We'd like a room, the finest suite you have. Two beds, pool-side and strip-side view," Lucas replies, then looks at Brooke. "With a mini bar."

After a few minutes of the normal check-in stuff, the concierge assigned two room keys to Lucas. He calls over a bellhop to bring them to room 8286 on the highest level. How ironic, the door is red. The bellhop opens the door, and enter Lucas and Brooke. "Enjoy your room, Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Scott."

Awkward.

They walk through the many rooms in that chamber. She squeals at the magnificence of their room. She's been wealthy with riches growing by the second, but it has been too long since she had a vacation, especially one with this man.

"Way to splurge, Mr. Scott."

"Treat you like a goddess, I remember."

Her eyes pan over to the large bed, the only bed.

He notices. "I can sleep on the couch."

"For this much a night? Are you kidding? We are married, aren't we, Mr. Lucas Scott?"

"You sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he says, squinting, giving those Lucas-eyes Brooke is all too familiar with.

She lets out a small giggle, "Yes, Luke. We can work out something else tomorrow morning."

"Perfect, Mrs. Lucas Scott."

He showered, she showered--separately. Changed into something more casual, Lucas lies on the bed tuning into ESPN. Brooke, in her yellow bathrobe, sits on one of the chairs by the window and stares out to the fumy sky.

Staring at the score report, he asks her, "What do you want to do tonight?"

Too deep into her thoughts, she doesn't answer.

He walks over, pulls the other chair across from her, and places one hand on her knees and the other on her hand. "I'm sorry, Brooke." He knew she was thinking about: Angie. Despite all their light-hearted conversations and their attempts not to bring up their little angel, they recognized the night couldn't end without mentioning their little girl. "You did well."

"Yeah, I know. It just feels so lonely without her."

"I told you you have me." He was being sincere, he truly was.

"Thanks, Luke. But we both know you have your own life and Lindsey or Peyton or whomever to fight for. I'm fine. I just need to get used to the silence."

He's a bit hurt. Had he neglected her? He honestly had no intention of neglecting her. "Brooke--"

"No, I'm fine. Ethan, I mean Dr. Copeland, predicted this silence and unease earlier today."

Those were innocent words, but it stings. Why? "Come on, Brooke. Get dressed. Let's just take a walk."

They pass by Neiman Marcus, but it's closed. Of course, it's around 3 in the morning. The casinos grow emptier. The two sit on the fountains outside, laughing. They haven't mentioned Angie, Lindsey, or Peyton since they left their room. Lucas shared stories about the adorable Jamie, the delirious Skills, and his sardonic Lily. He listened attentively to Brooke's anecdotes about work, her crazy lunatic of a mother, and her stories about Jamie.

"I love kids," they said simultaneously. Then, paused, surprised by each other's exact comment. Then, laughed together.

"I'm getting tired," yawned Brooke.
He pulls out his phone, rubbing his ocean-blue eyes. "Right, it's nearly 5AM."

She slips beside the bulging body in nothing but a yellow cami and red short-shorts, kicking off her fuzzy slippers.

"Thanks for this, Luke."

"Thanks for this, Brooke."

They chat about how great it is to be away from home but at the same time have someone from home here.

"Good night, Pretty Girl." He kisses her burgundy hair and notices her entire body twinge.

"Sweet dreams, Boyfr--," and cuts herself off before finishing the word. "Good night."

He turns to face the wall before smiling at his Pretty Girl's honest mistake. They weren't together--duh!--but no one would understand how good it was to hear her say that again, or almost call him that again. Sometimes, he wonders if she had forgotten about their relationship and the intimate love they once shared. He never has. Even at the hotel floor in Los Angeles with Peyton or at the altar of the wedding chapel with Lindsey, he never forgot about Brooke. Not in the way that he expects or desires something to rekindle then, but she's always in his mind.

It's really late at night, actually more like really early in the morning. Neither has fallen asleep yet, but neither speaks amidst the darkness.

He shifts back toward her, eyes closed. She is still looking up at the ceiling. Their bodies fall centimeters away from each other. Everything remains innocent. Perhaps the perfect sleep they had gotten a few hours ago was what made them so alert, but both decide to stay mum about what had happened earlier.

"Still awake, Brooke?" his voice emerges as a whisper. He can feel her nod. "I wish there was something I can do."

She lets out a scoff. "Pretty ridiculous, right? You invite me here to comfort you, and I just bring all my troubles," Brooke answers platonically,

His eyes open and he bolsters himself up with his elbow. "Not ridiculous at all. I miss Angie, too. I wanted to get away from Tree Hill, and there's no one I would rather be with than you. You're less troubling than all the others back home. Don't you think we are compatible and are good enough friends?"

She shrugs, "I suppose, but here we are…at this beautiful city, and all I can do is sulk."

"Then, we'll sulk together." He lies back down and puts his arm behind Brooke's neck. He pushes her closer, and within seconds, both fall asleep.

Some girls like to be held by that special boy.

The housekeeper knocked, but Prince Charming and Cinderella remained intact in bed. Asleep. His smile wide. Her face serene. Even the housekeeper stared at the two in bed for a second before exiting. It was another hour before they woke up. Cinderella had a grin on her face when she did. She found his arms tightly around her, one still behind her neck, the other on her bare hip. She felt his 5 o'clock shadow prick her forehead, yet it was so comforting She tried to slide her way off the bed, but his grip was tight like a mother bear protecting her baby cubs. She stays there for another ten minutes, enjoying Prince Charming's touch. He could feel his fingers slide up her top, and that's when she realized he isn't hers anymore. She forcefully moves, jolting him awake.

His eyes adjust to the sunlight peaking through the red, silky curtains. She sits up. His eyes land on her perfectly sculpted face and bold eyes. "Good morning," he stretches, accidentally skimming her tan skin.

She returns the smile. "Good sleep?"

"Yeah, you? I hope I didn't fall asleep while you were talking," he says, face radiating with the smile.

"Yeah." She notices his Pecs, his jaws, his white teeth, his end-of-the-summer body…before leaving for the bathroom. Dude, she was falling for him again. She doesn't recall the day she stopped wanting him, but gradually…she had sort of forgotten about her desire. And besides, he's like the forbidden fruit. There's Peyton and Lindsey. How does she even compare to them? Her and Lucas' file was closed years ago, back in their adolescent years. They've matured too much anyways. Love triangles, squares, or whatever…are so two years ago, it's like six years ago.

He knocks on the bathroom there. "Brooke, I need to pee. You've been in there for twenty minutes. Are you showering?" She barged in during his cold shower once. He had an itsy bitsy wet dream about her.

She opens the door, "You can use it first." She dives back into the silky sheets. What's worse: moping around for the loss of Angie or returning to the heartache that is Lucas Scott, the one she would have lost it all for? Face in the pillow, she sighs. Then, a gentle touch causes such a tremble in her soul.

"Brooke, you okay?" he asks, concerned.

Why? Why must you be so wonderful, Lucas? "Yeah, just a bit jetlag."

Lucas, in a simple white tee, and Brooke, in a simple flowing halter, exit their room. "Where are we going?"

"Like we ever know," Brooke responds.

"Left or right?"
"Left, L for Lucas."

"Cheesy."
"It's Cheery, Booby."

His eyes fixate at hers. She perceives how his eyes descended to her region. Awkward. She turns left and begins walking.

They enjoy a beautiful brunch first. Next on her list of to do's is shopping. But how can anyone tolerate the scorching sun without some gelato!? They wait in line, trying hard to decide on the many flavors available.

"So what are doing tonight?" he asks, resting an arm on her shoulder.

Don't face him. No, don't do it. Your faces will be so close…don't do it. You might kiss him impetuously. Brooke, no. She shrugs. "Let's go to LAX or somewhere," and with that, she moved up in the line, leaving Lucas hanging there for a second. Damn, that was rude, but it had to be done.

"Something wrong, Brooke?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Well…never mind," he decides. Perhaps he was a bit oversensitive. Or not.

All these stores, so little time. They pass by the baby department of a store. Brooke couldn't help but linger for a brief but noticeable second at the newborn aisle, then again at the toddler aisle, and once more at the kids' section before reaching the adults' section.

Spotting a long, vibrant, orange-red gown, Brooke instantaneously walked toward it.

"Don't you have something like this already?"

"Hm?"

"Keith and Jules' wedding. You wore a dress like this." He remembered. She was his date, and though the wedding was far from successful, his relationship with Brooke strengthened. She was dating Felix at the time, but he knew. He knew he had won her over with his best man speech, and he knew she had won him over when she planted a seed in his mind that she might not always be there with him. What is he ever going to do without the girl behind the red door?

She smiles, a forced one. "I guess s-so," she stutters. Does he even realize she's stumbling? She can barely be next to him right not without wanting to shred his clothes and pounce him. Does he realize her bones are weakening, her pulse is racing, her mind is hazy? She puts the dress back and walks off.

They walk, side-by-side, brushing each other every now and then. The place is crowded, you know? And each time she feels his touch, she quivers.

"Is there somewhere you rather go?" she asks the Lucas carrying only her shopping bags.

"No, I'm spending my time with you. But I have tonight planned out."
Ow, my heart. "Fabulous," she forces out.

They arrive back at their suite.

"Don't you feel much more relieved already, just by shopping?"

Yeah, but with you being so my-Lucas, my heart's in a whole different galaxy. "I suppose. What about you?"

"I wanna go to the pool."

She pouts. Of course, she wants to be there, but a shirtless Lucas is more irresistible than the Lucas she sees through his dark blue tee. Just then, her phone ring. "It's Peyton."

"Wait, Brooke. Please don't answer that. I should tell you something first."

Oh, God. He still loves her. She ignores her call. "What's up, Luke?"

"She painted on the river court. She thinks she's the comet in my book."

"Oh." Oh, how ironic.
"But we're not like that anymore, you know?"

Peyton calls again. "Hello, Peyton?"

"Brooke, the one at Mia's show was Jake. Jake Jagielski."

"Jake? Haven't you been looking for him for a while?"

The delightful Peyton has never sounded so ecstatic. Lucas could hear Peyton's jubilation through the phone as she rambles on for a while. "Brooke, how are things at Vegas, with Lucas?"

"Fine. Everything's great." She plasters on another one of today's smile at Lucas.

He nods.

"Brooke, I know I say this many times, but if you ever get back with Lucas, this time, I promise, I vow I won't impose."

"Peyton, we're nothing like that."

Lucas could hear Peyton and was surprisingly a bit hurt by Brooke's immediate response. Soon after, the two girls finished their conversation, saturated with a non-emo Peyton squealing like a toddler seeing Mickey Mouse for the first time at Disneyland.

He reaches over and grabs her iPhone from her hand, turning it off. He digs into his pocket and notices his out-of-battery phone. "We're leaving Tree Hill behind."

"Sounds good to me."

Glancing at the rectangular, indoor pool just a few feet from where they stood, Lucas nudges Brooke. "What do you say about taking a dip?"

"Mmm…" She's reluctant, but she has every reason to be.

"Fine, fine. We can skinny dip if you rather."

She lets out a giggle at the much happier Lucas; the depressed and bitter Lucas is gone like Lindsey. "Alright."

She changes into a red bikini, much like something Megan Fox would wear for Maxim--indeed, something so hot Lucas would fall hard for. Was that her intention? He rests on the side of the pool with two martinis ready, arms on the granite floor. She loosens her yellow robe and bends forward to place her cotton robe on a seat. Lucas' eyes first gouge to her breasts covered by a mere piece of fabric and string connecting those two, and then his eyes drop down to the region clearly defined by her tight bikini bottom as she bends over.

Her heart skips a beat as she walks down the steps of the pool to Lucas, feeling his eyes follow her body. She flashes him a faint smile, her two dimples protruding.

"You look beautiful, Pretty Girl."

She dips her head down. "Thanks," catching his eye with her timid ones. "You look pretty," takes a gulp, "good, too."

The infamous Lucas chuckle. "Well, this is for you," handing her a martini. "Prepared just the way you like it."

They talk for a while about Brooke's clothing line, the environmental crisis, the new movie What Happens in Vegas, and some more.

"So what's next for the amazing Brooke Davis?"

A family. I want a family. "Who knows? With the baby line coming out, I'm not sure I have time for more." Liar. She managed even more before. "What about you, best-selling author Lucas Scott?"

A family. I want a family. "A family. I want a family."

Her eyes instantaneously popped a bit. Her lips curved into a plump smile, then fades away. "You said Lindsey called, Peyton drew a comet…you can have that."

"They aren't the one. Neither has been."

All these memories flood Brooke's feeble mind as if everything decided to assail her together. There's no way he's talking about her. She angles her eyebrows, "You almost married Lindsey; the family you want is within grasp. And Peyton, you know she would."

"Yeah, Brooke," he grabs ahold of her hand. "Lindsey left me at the altar; I said, 'I do.' It's hard to trust her. She toys with my heart, much like Peyton did. I, I guess, I just," trying to find the right words, "don't want to fight for them. There's destiny, providence, whatever forces, and my heart. Besides, Peyton and I, we are long past done. We were done before we," he looks deep into her eyes, "started again in senior year."

His words and facial expression strike her, strike her hard. She loosens her hand from his. "People who are meant to be always find their way in the end."

He smiles, remember the first time she told him that. "What about you? Do you want to settle down?"

"Of course, but I haven't even been on an actual date in so long."

"What about Owen? Wasn't Chase back in town recently?"

"Oh, God. Owen and I are in completely different places. He's just too hard. And Chase," she laughs at the idea of Chase being anything besides a fling, "Chase was really sweet, but there wasn't a connection. More like a rebound?" she suggested.

He exits the pool area and comes back with his hands behind his back. "This is for you," he hands her a square box wrapped in white with a red ribbon and bow on top, each side about two feet long.

"What's this, Luke?"