"So, Dean Winchester," Brooke found herself saying as she smoothed the covers over her legs.

She sat snugly in a queen sized bed in one of the Scotts' spare rooms. The room itself was sparsely decorated with a few pieces of art adorning the beige walls. It had all the simple necessities for entertainment; a widescreen television set with a DVD system, a BOSE surround sound stereo system, and a desktop computer. The nightstands at either side of her bed held an ornate vase and a lampshade. She admired the room and felt the homey vibe Haley was successful at creating. She turned her attention back to Nathan and smiled. "I never knew Haley even had a brother. I figured it was just her and Taylor."

Nathan snorted at the comment. "Please, she's one of five children." He grinned at Brooke's shocked expression. "Come on, you really didn't know?"

"I—she didn't—no one told me—I couldn't have—" Brooke stumbled clumsily over her words.

He laughed at her obvious confusion and stepped in to help her out. "Dean is Lydia's first child with her first husband, John Winchester," Nathan explained. "The two were married for a year before calling it quits, and they shuffled Dean between homes. Lydia soon after met Haley's dad, Jimmy, and along came Quinn, Vivian, Taylor and then Haley."

"Whoa, whoa—Dean? Quinn? Vivian? Where the hell have I been?" she asked incredulously. "I'm supposed to know everything about everyone."

"Looks like you struck out this time, Davis," he said nonchalantly. He moved over to the desk across the room and leaned against it.

"Have you met Quinn and Vivian?"

He nodded his head. "Once or twice when we'd visit her parent's every so often. Her sisters are kind of self-righteous, little Ms. Know-It-Alls."

"Nothing like your precious wife, of course," Brooke joked.

"Don't you start," he pointed a finger at her. "Last thing I need is to get in trouble over something I didn't say in my very own house." He held a fist in the air, playfully threatening to put her in her place.

She held her hands up defensively, but smiled all the same. "So not a funny joke to the battered and beaten woman!" she joked. Brooke laughed at the horrified look on her friend's face and stopped him before he could apologize profusely. "I was kidding, Nate."

Brooke ran a hand through her hair, glad to be rid of the horrid bandage previously wrapped around her head. She decided to steer the conversation back to safe territory. "So, you met her sisters… but judging by your reaction to Detective Dean, I'm assuming this was the first time you two met."

"Yeah," Nathan admitted uneasily. "I hope I didn't come off as too big of an ass. I was just floored over the fact that you were in the hospital to begin with, you know? I was on edge, and here was a guy that I could take my frustration out on."

"Too bad for you he turned out to be your brother-in-law," she finished his thought. She sighed deeply and stretched her arms over her head. "I'm bored. What I need is something to read—"

She stopped when Nathan raised his hands to keep her from speaking any further. "I already got you covered." Brooke watched perplexed as he reached behind him and grabbed a stack of magazines, making his way towards her. "Okay, so we've got Cosmopolitan, Glamour, Redbook, Marie Claire, Elle, and of course," he swung the cover of the last magazine to face his friend with dramatic flair, "B. Davis."

Brooke laughed at his attempts to make her feel at home in their spare bedroom. He placed the magazines on top of her lap and folded his arms over his chest. "Thanks, Nate," she gave him a genuine smile. "It's always good to know what the competition is printing."

"Funny, that's the same thing Peyton told me right before she boarded her flight with Lucas," he said jokingly.

Brooke groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. "Please, don't tell me they're cutting their honeymoon short because of me?"

Nathan chuckled and shook his head. "No, not even close." When she wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion, he explained. "They didn't go through with it. You know how girls are; they say they don't care about the details of the wedding or how it happens until right before the ceremony takes place. My guess is Peyton decided she couldn't get married without the rest of us, and they decided to plan an extravagant wedding."

Brooke laughed and stared at him incredulously. "Peyton? Seriously? Come on, Nathan—do you honestly believe that she'd give Luke the chance to change his mind again?" He seemed to consider the question before joining in her laughter. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Luke was probably the one who got all weepy and wanted his family to be there when they finally got married. Mark my words."

Nathan cocked an eyebrow at the statement. "Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is, Davis?"

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest and threw him a smirk, a mischievously glint twinkling in her eyes. "You bet your ass I am," she repeated his words from earlier. "My best friend and my ex-boyfriend? I think I know what I'm talking about, Scott. How much you willing to lose?"

"Hey, no gambling in this house," Haley reprimanded both of them as she walked in with a cup of hot tea for their houseguest. Her son, James Lucas Scott, followed right behind her.

"Yeah, no gabbing in the house. You heard, mama," Jamie said commandingly. His godmother smiled at the sight of him, a smile that quickly turned into a frown once she caught his reaction to her bruised skin. "Aunt Brooke, mama said someone hurt you really bad," he said after a moment.

Tears pricked Brooke's eyes, but she rapidly blinked them away when her godson made room for himself on her bed. "Yeah, buddy. Someone did some bad things to me, but I'm okay."

Jamie didn't seem convinced. He hesitantly placed his hand in hers and rubbed the back of her hand with his free one. "Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts."

"Jamie—"

Brooke looked towards Nathan and swiftly shook her head before he could interrupt. She quickly composed herself, and with a deep breath, she offered Jamie an explanation. "It hurts a little bit, baby boy. That's why the doctors ordered me to stay in bed for the next couple of days until I feel better."

Jamie nodded his head, somewhat appeased with the answer. "Mama told me that my Uncle Dean is gonna find the bad person who did this to you, Auntie Brooke," he said confidently. He gave her a toothy grin and nodded his head in assurance. "She said if anyone could find him, it'd be Uncle Dean!"

Brooke imitated his smile instantly and patted their joined hands. "I know, sweetheart."

"Well, it's good to know you all have such great faith in me."

They all turned to the doorway and noticed Dean leaning lazily against the doorframe, a grin affixed on his lips. "Dean," Haley exclaimed as she reached for her son. "How did you get in?"

Dean stood straight as he regarded his little sister. "You left the front door open." He walked towards her with a shake of his head. "You'd think that after what happened last night, you'd know better." He paused momentarily and glanced over at Brooke. "No offense."

She smiled in response. "None taken."

"Dean, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Haley addressed her brother. Jamie stood in front of her, and she had her hands planted firmly on his shoulders.

Dean squatted down and looked his nephew up and down. "My God, this can't be James Lucas Scott? Weren't you born yesterday?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, I was born five years ago," the little boy answered earnestly.

The statement caused Dean to laugh whole-heartedly. He offered his hand to the kid and introduced himself. "That you were. I'm Dean. I guess you can call me Uncle Dean."

Jamie stared at the outstretched hand with a puzzled expression. He looked up towards his mother who urged him to greet his uncle. Jamie shrugged and moved Dean's hand aside. He stepped into his uncle's personal space and gave him a hug. "It's nice to meet you, Uncle Dean."

He awkwardly put his arms around the kid, clumsily patting his back in the process. "It's nice to meet you, too bud." When Jamie wouldn't let go of him, he shot a look towards his sister. His eyes expressed his discomfort, and Haley had to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape her lips.

"All right, Jamie. That's enough," she told her son with a soft giggle. She pulled Jamie back into their earlier stance and rubbed his shoulders out of habit. "What brings you by?" Haley asked her brother.

Dean stood up to his full height and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. It had been his father's most prized possession before he died years ago. It was now Dean's favorite piece of 

clothing. He shrugged and looked pointedly at his nephew. "Well, I wanted to meet the infamous Jamie Scott, of course." He winked at the kid and smiled when Jamie beamed in response. He turned his attention to Brooke, his features softening a bit towards her angelic position on the bed. "I also wanted to check and see how you were holding up."

Brooke cocked an eyebrow at the sentiment and couldn't stop the words before they tumbled from her mouth. "Making house calls, are we Detective? You do that with all your victims?" she asked flirtatiously.

He shook his head at her comment, hiding a grin in the process. "You flatter yourself, Ms. Davis."

"Brooke," she corrected.

"Dean," he countered.

She smiled brightly at their easy banter. "Touché."

While Nathan and Haley were used to seeing Brooke in action, Jamie's eyes volleyed between the two as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Mama?" he said, tugging on his mother's hand. She looked down on him with a smile on her face. "I think Uncle Dean and Aunt Brooke like each other."

The four adults looked at one another and laughed at the little boy's acute understanding of reality. She picked up her son and walked towards her husband, beginning to usher them out of the room. "It does appear that way, son of mine," she said as she grabbed hold of Nathan's arm. "Let's leave them alone so they can talk."

Jamie sighed in frustration as they walked out the door. "But Mama, I wanna see what happens next!" they heard him complain down the hallway.

"Wow," Brooke said after her fit of laughter subsided.

"That kid knows too much for his own good," Dean said as he moved closer to the bed.

"Is that so?" Brooke asked. She removed the magazines from her lap and placed them on the nightstand by her bed. "So, then you were flirting with me earlier," she assumed.

He uncharacteristically rolled his eyes and took a seat by her bed. He hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. "I change my mind. The kid knows nothing."

She grinned at the comment and turned her face away from him. Good job, Davis, she thought to herself. Some guy beats the crap out of you, robs your store, and here you are twenty hours later… flirting with your best friend's long lost brother. Will you ever change? She sighed discontentedly and brought her eyes to meet his. She tried a friendlier approach this time. "I saw that display earlier… with Jamie. It's kind of refreshing actually."

His face contoured together to form a mask of confusion. "What is?"

"Oh, you know. Big bad detective from New York is scared of innocent little kids," she mocked him playfully. Brooke was getting used to the way he'd shake his head to hide a smirk from her. In fact, she was beginning to like it a lot more than she should.

"No, that's not true," he started. "Kids… kids are great," came the lame response.

"Wow, kids are great?" she repeated with a twinkle in her eye. "That's the best you could come up with?" She laughed at the staggered look on his face. Brooke began raising her knees towards her body when the pain shot up from her sides. She grimaced at the sensation and let out a strangled groan in the process.

Dean was at her side in an instant. "Whoa, take it easy there. You all right?" he asked as he eased her legs back into their previous position. He stayed by her bedside, hovering over her until her expression became more relaxed.

"For a second there, I almost forgot," she answered softly. With his help, she placed her body in a more comfortable position. Her eyes remained closed the entire time as she tried to ignore the jolts of pain she'd feel with each tender move. "You're okay," Dean would whisper soothingly every time her face would flinch. She found him to be very calming. Brooke opened her eyes again, a pensive look on her face.

"What?" he asked almost rudely when she wouldn't stop staring at him.

She didn't take offense to his tone. "I don't know. You just… you don't strike me as the type of guy with perfect bedside manners."

Dean shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms over the other. "And you felt it necessary to point that out because…?"

Brooke gave him a tight-lipped smile. "No reason." They stayed like that for a moment or two; Brooke immobile in bed looking everywhere but towards him and Dean standing over her, looking fairly amused by her show of discomfort. When she managed to look at him again, she asked point blank, "So, any leads on who did this?"

He shook his head sadly and moved to occupy the same chair he'd been in earlier. "Unfortunately, no. It's beginning to look like a random robbery."

Brooke nodded her head at the admission, focusing on her hands before her. "I see," she said without emotion.

"We're still doing all we can to catch this guy, Brooke," he told her reassuringly. He wanted to grab her hand and give it a squeeze, but he didn't feel it would be appropriate. Instead he offered her a promise he wished he wouldn't have to break in the near future. "I will do everything I can to find him."

Brooke stared into his eyes and knew he meant what he said. She'd grown accustom to reading guys all throughout high school. Lucas was her best teacher when she tried detecting whether or not a man's emotions were sincere, or she was being fed a load of bull. She trusted that Dean would find the person who attacked her.

The moment became all too real, and Brooke realized she wanted to kiss him. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she found herself utterly speechless. It had been a while since she felt this way. Sure, she'd dated Owen earlier on in the year, but he'd never had the power to awaken the woman out of her in the sense that Dean had. The feeling scared her tremendously, and she pulled her mind away from the thought of his lips on hers.

She smiled shakily at him and ran a hand through her hair. She took into account the way his eyes narrowed at her sudden detachment and chose to ignore it. Before she could break the ice with some reckless bantering about herself, the silence was broken by the singing vocals of Jesse McCartney.

"God—what is that God awful sound?" Dean asked in disgust as his eyes wandered around the room, searching for the source of his discomfort.

Brooke laughed at the sour expression on his face and retrieved her cell phone from the nightstand. "It's my cell phone, you jerk," she said playfully.

Dean's face contorted some more as the song continued to play. "Well, pick it up!" he said quickly. "That's gotta be the worst ringtone ever created on earth," he commented. "Serious," he said in all earnest.

Brooke chose not to take offense and refrained from singing along with her chirping phone. Instead, she silenced the room—a "Thank God!" quickly followed from Dean—by picking up the phone. "Brooke Davis," she said, rolling her eyes at the Detective across from her.

"Brooke! How are you feeling?" Luke asked as he ushered Peyton into the taxi before climbing in after her.

"Luke," she breathed into the phone. She closed her eyes and brought a hand to her head. "Did you guys just land?"

"Yeah, we're in a taxi heading over to Nathan's," he replied. "But you didn't answer my question. How are you doing?"

She shrugged even when she knew he couldn't physically see her do it. "I'm better. You guys didn't have to cut your vacation short because of me."

"Brooke, are you kidding me?" she heard Peyton yell into the phone. Somewhere in between getting into the taxi and this moment, Brooke figured Luke put her on speaker phone so they wouldn't be fighting over the phone. "Of course we had to come back! You're my best friend," she stated the words empathetically. "I should've been there with you—I should've been by your side, Brooke."

She quirked an eyebrow at her friend's words. "What—like a repeat of prom night with your so-called, psycho brother, Derek?" She mouthed the words long story when Dean looked at her questioningly. "I think I managed just fine, P. Sawyer."

"Well, regardless, we're on our way to Nate's," Luke jumped back into the conversation.

Brooke shook her head and reinforced the action when she spoke. "No, you guys have had a pretty eventful night yourselves. Nathan and Haley are here to tend to my every need, which rocks by the way. You guys go home, get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning." Her eyes flicked towards Dean, and her voice grew softer. "I'm in good hands."