3 - I Will Wait

To say that Brooke was stressed would be an understatement. With each passing day the grand opening to her beloved hometown's own Clothes Over Bros outlet grew closer, and with each one of those days something new popped up to cause problems. Today, it was the contractors informing her that they'd gone over budget again. Yesterday, she learned that the sprinkler system was not quite up to code and would have to be partially replaced. The day before that had her arguing with some suppliers about fabrics. And the list goes on and on. The thing was though that Brooke could handle all these little hiccups. Given enough time and effort, the fashionista always found a way to persevere. There was nothing in the world that could stop Brooke Penelope Davis when she put her mind to it!
That all said though, Brooke still had no idea what to do about Peyton.
Ever since the barbecue Peyton had become more withdrawn than when they first returned to Tree Hill. All the progress, however minor, the blonde had made over the last couple of weeks was undone, and Brooke couldn't but feel at least partially responsible for her best friend's setback. If she hadn't insisted that Peyton accompany her to Haley's get together, then maybe the moody blonde wouldn't be in an even deeper funk than before.
Yet despite how guilty Brooke felt about her part in all this, the fashionista also couldn't quite keep herself from feeling vindicated. The more that she thought about it, the more Brooke was convinced that Peyton wanted Luke back.
Why else would she be this despondent after meeting Lucas' new girlfriend? Maybe meeting Lindsey finally made Peyton realize what she'd given up by refusing Lucas' proposal? Maybe, just maybe, her meeting Lindsey had reawakened Peyton's love for Lucas?
So here she was, having called it a day a half hour earlier than usual, intent on gaining confirmation from her best friend on what was going on. And, with any luck, Brooke would finally snap Peyton out of her funk once and for all. Now the only problem Brooke could foresee is actually getting Peyton to admit the obvious because, let's face it, the girl was notoriously stubborn. Not that Brooke had any right to judge but that was besides the point.
The moment Brooke pulled up into her driveway, the fashion designer could sense that something was off. Apprehensive, she swiftly parked her SUV then rushed up the porch steps inside. Once there she found it was eerily quiet. Now more than a little panicked, Brooke searched the bottom floor. From Peyton's bedroom to the kitchen then into the laundry room out back, which was followed by the brunette rushing upstairs to search there. When that proved fruitless, Brooke returned downstairs to check her best friend's bedroom again in hopes of finding a clue.
As the fashionista entered the bedroom she noticed several open boxes on the floor around the bed, their contents splayed atop the bed itself in a haphazard fashion. Most were clothing and such but there was one certain item that caught her attention.
"What's this?" Brooke wondered aloud, her finger now running along the photo album's edge. A brief moment of hesitation took hold of Brooke but, in the end, her traitorous curiosity won out over whatever trepidation she'd been harbouring.
The first few pages were pretty standard fare. Some were of Peyton in the first days of her internship, some from days off that had the blonde obviously sight seeing and such around Los Angeles. The further she flipped through the album, the more Brooke noticed that two people almost always joined her best friend in each photo. Often, it was either Peyton with one or both of them but the pattern was definitely there.
The former cheerleader paused on a page filled with photos containing the first of those two people who obviously meant a lot to her P Sawyer. He was handsome, in a nerdy kind of way, with a decent sense of fashion. The smirk was a little off putting, like he was trying too hard to be cool, but other than that the guy was rather attractive. She searched the edge of the page for some indication of what his name was but found nothing.
The next few pictures featured the second person in question, a dark haired woman about their age, who had her arms draped around Peyton's shoulders while the blonde was smiling at the camera. These sorts of poses usually wouldn't catch Brooke's attention, because there were times when she was guilty of draping herself all over her friends, but there was just something about the girl's expression in each photo that gave the brunette pause. That wasn't a friendly expression. Not in the least. Or maybe overly friendly would be more accurate because a friend didn't look at their other friends the way this girl was staring at Peyton. It was how someone gazed at another person when they were in love. This was complete and utter adoration.
Was this why Peyton left LA? Because this girl wouldn't take no for an answer? And how did the guy fit into it? Was he who Peyton was dating after her breakup with Lucas? And did the girl cause Peyton to break up with him? So many questions!
"Having fun?" Peyton's snarled from the doorway.
"Uh, this isn't what it looks like," cried Brooke.
Green eyes narrowed at her in anger. "Oh, so this wasn't you invading my privacy then?"
"Okay, I guess it was exactly what it looked like," the brunette sighed in resignation, guiltily handing the photo album to the blonde. "But I didn't do it on purpose, P! I got home early and couldn't find you, so-"
"-so you took it on yourself to rifle through my shit? Nice, Brooke, real nice," scoffed Peyton, closing the photo album shut before placing it on her night stand.
"No, I said I didn't mean to do it, P," she apologized, frantic. "I'm sorry! It's just...well, you've been so distant lately and I thought...I don't know, maybe it would shed some light on as to why."
"And it didn't occur to you to just, I don't know, ask me?" Peyton shouted, most definitely and righteously angry with her best friend.
"Well, you're not exactly forthcoming with the details, Peyton!" Brooke shouted back.
"You had no right to do this, Brooke," the blonde cried, her voice cracking. "No right whatsoever!"
"I...you're right," the brunette agreed, knowing full well that she was in the wrong. "I wasn't thinking, P. It won't happen again. I promise."
"You're damn right it's not going to happen again," her best friend snapped, now pointing to the door. "Get out."
Unable to disobey, an embarrassed Brooke slinked out of the bedroom, only to flinch when it was slammed shut behind her. The sounds of Peyton cleaning her room could be heard for some time until about ten minutes or so later, when the door swung open again with a still enraged Peyton stalking towards the outside door.
"Where are you going?" Brooke asked, concern etching her features.
"To buy a lock for my bedroom," the blonde shouted over her shoulder. "Try to stay out of my shit while I'm gone, would you?"
"Okay, I deserved that," an ashamed Brooke sighed, the front door slamming shut.

Betrayed. That's how Peyton felt right now. Completely and utterly betrayed. Seriously, how could Brooke do that? How could her so called best friend betray her trust like that? And how much did she see? How far into that photo album did Brooke get? Did she see enough to guess Peyton's secret? To guess that she-
"Well, this is a surprise."
"Oh, come on," Peyton groaned at the hardware store ceiling.
"That's not very nice," chided Lindsey.
"Yeah, well, neither was how you treated me when you found out who I was, so cry me a river then go drown yourself in it," sneered the blonde, not in the mood for this encounter.
"Okay, that's harsh," the other woman stated. "Fair but harsh."
"What do you want, Lindsey?" Peyton demanded. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get back to shopping for a new doorknob.
"Two sixty watt lightbulbs for my favorite reading lamp," Lindsey answered in the most matter of fact way possible, which she raised up for the blonde to see. "Which I already have."
"I'm very happy for you," deadpanned Peyton.
"Thanks, I appreciate that," returned Lucas' girlfriend with a grin. "I also came over to apologize for how I acted when we met at Haley's. It was a dick move. Can I buy you a coffee to make it up to you?"
For a moment Peyton was deeply tempted to refuse Lindsey out of spite but, ultimately, she decided to take pity on the girl and accepted her offer. Besides, maybe the blonde could score a pastry of some sort in the deal, too, because, damn, she was hungry! The new door knob could wait until later. This stupid store was open until eight o'clock any way, so there was no need to rush.
"What?" Peyton asked when they were seated in a nearby coffee shop five minutes later, the waiter having already taken their orders. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"No reason," her ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend looked away, feigning innocence.
"You know there's nothing stopping me from leaving," she told the girl. "Right?"
"At the risk of being told to go drown myself in a river of my own tears," Lindsey began, cautious. "Which I found very charming, by the way."
"Thank you," the blonde nodded.
"You're welcome," she nodded back before continuing. "I was wondering why you were in such a delightful mood when I approached you."
"Roommate trouble," Peyton replied, curt and concise.
"Really? I thought you and Brooke were tight," Lindsey tilted her head slightly to the side, then quickly elaborated at the questioning glance the blonde was now giving her. "Haley likes to reminisce about you guys when we meet up for coffee." She paused. "It can get kind of annoying."
"I can imagine," she agreed, knowing how that felt from her time with Julian and...she who must not be named.
"Anyhow, what'd Brooke do that ticked you off so bad?"
Without really knowing why she did so, Peyton explained to Lindsey what had happened between Brooke and herself barely an hour ago. The blonde had obviously left out the more private details, of course. No need to tell this woman that she barely knew her entire life story.
"From the sound of it, Brooke was worried about her best friend and only wanted to help her," Lindsey stated, taking a sip from the coffee their waiter had dropped off while they'd been talking. "Sure, she went about it the wrong way but her heart was in the right place."
"I know that but...there are just some things I'm not ready to talk about," Peyton sighed, her own drink and strawberry cheesecake no longer looking all that appealing.
"Not even with your best friend?"
"Especially with my best friend," she muttered, mindlessly stabbing at her dessert with a fork. "And to make matters worse, I'm still more or less mooching off her, squatting in her house, and essentially being a parasite. It sucks."
"No luck on the job hunt, huh? Been there," sympathized Lindsey.
"What do you do anyway?" Peyton glanced up at the woman seated across from her, curious.
The other woman frowned back at her, delicate eyebrows knitted in a puzzlement. "Did you even read the card I gave you?"
"Honestly, I think I might have left it in my jeans, which I might...have already washed," the former intern grimaced. "Sorry."
"Eh, these things happen," Lindsey waved it off. "I'll forgive you." She smiled at Peyton, almost teasingly so. "This time."
"How very generous of you," scoffed Peyton.
"I'm nothing if not benevolent," grinned Lindsey. "Anyway, to answer your question, I'm an editor at my family's publishing company in New York. Well, junior editor, actually. Refused the big office and position so I could work my way up." She shrugged. "I hate preferential treatment."
"Let me get this straight," the unemployed blonde pointed out. "You're an editor." The other woman nodded. "At your family's publishing company." Another nod. "Where you refused to use your connections." Yet another nod. "And I'm guessing that Lucas is one of the authors assigned under you, right?"
"When you say that last part like that, you make it sound dirty," Lindsey cringed.
"It's only dirty if you made the first move," Peyton smirked, only to let out a guffaw at how the editor was now blushing. "Oh my god, I was joking!"
"If you're done making fun of me, we should be probably bring this...whatever this was to an end because it looks like the staff want to close up," the older of the two women suggested, gesturing to the two impatient looking members of said staff at the counter. "And yes, it's my treat."
"Which is fitting since you are the one who asked me out," the blonde pointed out with a smile, the pair now preparing to leave. "Remember?"
"Yeah, well, I couldn't stand seeing you in such a dour mood," countered Lindsey, handing their server her debit card. "A face as pretty as yours should always be wearing a smile."
"Careful with the smooth talk, Miss Junior Editor," a teasing Peyton warned. "Or I just may be tempted to steal you away from Lucas."
"And I just might be tempted to let you," the statuesque brunette teased back, the waiter having returned her bank card and receipt. "See you around, Peyton Sawyer."
"See you around, Lindsey...um," the blonde began, only to falter.
"It's Strauss," the other woman supplied with a soft smile, her back against the exit door. "My last name is Strauss."
"Well, Lindsey Strauss," Peyton smiled back. "Thank you for cheering me up."
"It was my pleasure," Lindsey remarked honestly, only to pause for another moment. "Oh, and Peyton?"
Their gazes met, blue on green. "Hmm?"
"If you still can't figure out what to do next, just remember that 'the good traveler has no set plans'," advised the editor. "And-"
"-is not intent on arriving," Peyton finished, recognizing the quote. "Lao Tzu? Really?"
"I like the poetry in his words," Lindsey told the blonde with a sheepish shrug before continuing her egress. "Good night."
"Good night," she parroted.
As Peyton stepped out into the night air a few moments later, her eyes sought out the departing Lindsey but the other woman was already halfway across the parking lot. Their gazes once again met when her new friend (if that's what Peyton could call Lindsey) reached her vehicle, both of them nearly simultaneous in their waves good night.
With Lindsey's advice ringing in her ears, Peyton decided to call it a night and head home, having completely forgotten about the reason why she had originally come to this part of town in the first place.

The living room was dark when Brooke awoke on the couch, her mind foggy from the unexpected nap in front of the television. She could hear movement in the kitchen, which meant that Peyton had returned from her errand. After a quick debate on whether or not to pretend she was still asleep, Brooke sat up to find herself covered in a throw blanket.
"You were shivering when I got back," Peyton answered her unspoken question from the kitchen. "Dinner's almost done, by the way."
"You cooked?" Brooke was surprised.
"Of course not," scoffed the blonde. "You know that I couldn't cook my way out of a paper bag. I ordered some stuff from that Indian restaurant on 6th."
"If it's take-out, then-"
"-why did I say it's almost done?" Peyton finished. "It got cold on the way home, so I'm warming it up."
As the blonde continued to walk back and forth between the cupboards and the stove where the aforementioned food was being warmed upon, Brooke made her way over to join her best friend before Peyton burned their newly acquired home to the ground.
"Brooke? What are you doing? I'm kind of in the middle of something right now," protested the blonde when Brooke stepped between Peyton and the stove. "Brooke!"
"Go, living room, now," she ordered, all but shoving the taller woman out of the kitchen.
"At least, turn the burner off," Peyton complained, being led away.
"Fine, just go," sighed Brooke.
After doing as Peyton requested, Brooke sat down beside her fidgety blonde friend on the couch. They sat quietly through three commercials on the television until Brooke finally couldn't take it anymore and broke the silence.
"Okay, what the heck did I miss? Did you hit your head while you were out? Are you on some sort of medication I don't know about? Because, seriously, I am very, very confused right now, P!"
"Yeah, I don't blame you," conceded Peyton. "I did kind of go off on you earlier, didn't I?"
"Yeah," Brooke held her hand up with her index finger and thumb half an inch apart. "Just a little bit though."
"Sorry about that," she apologized.
"No, you had every right to be pissed. I get that," the fashionista shook her head. "What I don't get is why you were channelling Rachael Ray when I woke up from my completely unintentional nap."
"Speaking of, you shouldn't push yourself so hard, Brooke," a concerned Peyton advised.
"Don't change the subject," she told the blonde.
"Fine, if you must know," her best friend began in resignation. "When I was out looking for a new lock for my door, I ran into Lindsey-"
"I'm not going to have to help you hide her body, am I?" Brooke interrupted.
"What? No, but I'm touched that you'd be willing to do that for me, B," she chuckled. "Um, anyway, as I was saying, I ran into Lindsey and we ended up talking. And she helped me realize how much of a drama queen I was being." Peyton sighed. "I'm sorry that I snapped on you like I did, Brooke. Regardless if you feel that you deserved it, I should've realized that my shutting you out was what drove you to that. And for that, I apologize."
"So are you going to tell me why you freaked out about the photo album?" Brooke inquired, cautious. She watched her best friend's gaze drop down into her own lap. "You know what? Forget I asked. You don't-"
"How far did you get?" Peyton whispered, almost beggingly. "What was the last picture you remember seeing?"
"A girl hugging you, looking at you like you were her everything," she answered, unable to lie when her best friend seemed so distraught. "And a nerdy but strangely hot guy with an odd smirk right before that." She paused. "Who were they, Peyton? What happened?"
"Not yet, Brooke," the blonde pleaded. "It's still too fresh, too...much." She wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks but both women knew this was a futile effort. "But, I promise you, right here and now, I will tell you everything. I just need time, okay?"
"Take as much time as you need, P Sawyer," rasped Brooke, an arm now around her best friend's shoulders as Peyton leaned against her for support. "Take as much time as you need."

Don't worry, Peyton starts being less mopey next chapter. Thanks for reading.

Track 3: I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons