A/N – so this is the first interaction between Lucas and Peyton (since the last twelve years) and it has a bit of history thrown in, which hopefully answers any questions you have been having.

As always, I do not own OTH or any of the characters, and I really appreciate all of the people who take their time to review, as it helps with my inspiration x


I pull my gaze away from across the street to meet the deep blue eyes of Nathan's half brother Lucas Scott, seeing that he was asking a serious question whilst also trying to lighten the mood. I accept the bottle, making sure my skin did not touch his again, draining half the bottle before replying. "In general, not too bad… I mean, as good as it could be considering… but in the past five minutes, a complete and utter nightmare."

"Yeah, I kind of heard through the open window… and put two and two together when you fell out of the house. I thought Jake was…"

"Yeah, he is, hence the nightmare" I cut him off, looking away, not wanting to relive it, and I am grateful when he decides not to press the subject further. "So how's your life, Mr. Big Time Basketball Star?"

I see the blush that rises in his cheeks for a moment, and he looks uncomfortable having the attention on him, before he replies, and it hits me that his reactions are nothing like Nathan's, or Dan's, for that matter. "Yeah, it's not too bad considering. I'm just trying to get through these final few months, so I can get out of this town and leave my history behind me."

I glance back over to him, and I remember in that instant what happened that split us apart. In the first grade, back when boys were supposed to have cooties, we had been forced to sit next to each other, thanks to the joys of the alphabet. But after a few days of ignoring each other, an un-expected friendship had formed when he randomly gave me one of his chocolate chip cookies during lunch, without any explanation. It was broken, however when Dan Scott moved his new wife to Tree Hill, and Nathan ended up in the same class. Our first grade teacher, who thinking back must have known the history between the two boys, considering the legend that is Dan Scott for this town, ironically chose me out of the whole class to show the new boy around. Things quickly split between me and Lucas, especially when Nathan started bragging that there was a new Scott in town, one that had his father's love and money. I saw through what Nathan was trying to do, knowing he was feeling exposed and scared, and I had yelled at him for it afterwards, but the damage was done, and Lucas broke away from the our little group, instead concentrating on basketball and books.

Years later, the attraction of Lucas Scott spread like wildfire around the girls at school that where all hormonally charged. The quiet broody blonde with the incredible jump shot became the target of almost every girl, especially when he made the varsity team in his freshmen year.

"So…" he broke the silence after a few minutes, looking down to my leg, "How did that happen?"

I blush, embarrassed. "Er, it was stupid really. Brooke had me practicing some new cheerleading move with her, and I twisted funny, breaking my leg when I hit my bedroom floor." I laugh, remembering Brooke's face as I convinced her that I needed to go to the hospital, whilst she was still dancing, adjusting the new routine. "At least I have an excuse to be late for class now."

Lucas laughs in response; his blue eyes taking on a new fire that I haven't seen in forever. "I still can't believe you are a cheerleader," he replies. "But you should have heard some of the rumours flying around school when you turned back up with that on your leg."

"Yeah, well Brooke can be pretty persuasive when she puts her mind to it," I respond, remembering how much she whined until I tried out for her, and how I bargained that I never had to even pretend that I had school spirit. Dance routines I could cope with, pretending to be part of the pep club is where I draw the line. "I can't believe people were talking about me though," I cringe at the though, and he notices my reaction.

"Oh come on, you have to know that people talk about you," he teases. "You're a complete mystery to anyone outside your little group; I mean who knew you are a drinking on a Friday night type. Although I wish you would have given it a miss tonight." He smiles, raking his eyes down my long legs, taking in the cast and the huge shoe.

"Oh hindsight is so useful," I smile sarcastically, taking another gulp from the bottle, before resting it back on the floor between us.

"You look like you breeze through high school which is pretty intimidating to anyone on the outside." He continues his blue eyes locked on my face, watching my reactions. "Plus the looks some boys give you is damn right unnerving, but you don't even notice them. You're so independent it's scary."

"Oh please, they don't even know me. You don't even know me," I reply, continuing when I see him raise his eyebrows at me, and I get the feeling that might not be as true as I think it is. "I'm not the same girl that you knew in first grade… too much as happened since then. I have more issues than Rolling Stones, and you only heard the most recent one earlier." I take a deep breath, wrapping my arms around myself and look away from him, "Speaking of, I do not want to go back in there."

"That's alright. How about I take you home?" Lucas asks, pulling off his denim jacket and handing it to me, before standing up.

"I'm supposed to be staying here tonight," I sigh, accepting the jacket hesitantly. "My house keys and bag are still inside."

"I'll go get them," he smiles, picking up the two empty bottles, before loping off towards the house and disappearing into the crowd. I sit there for a moment, wondering what the hell just happened, before sighing and pushing my hands through the sleeves of his jacket. It was still warm from his body, and his unique smell was woven into the fabric. I pull my hands free from the long sleeves to release my trapped hair, allowing it to fall naturally around my shoulders, as I reach over to grab my crutches just as he reappears.

"Hey, I've told Brooke that I'm taking you home, and she said to text her tomorrow. This is yours too, right?" he asks as he gets closer, showing me my leather jacket that I had forgotten completely about, as I was usually wearing it, and he had my bag slung across his shoulder.

"Oh, shit, yeah." I reply, ready to give up his jacket for my own, but instead watch as he folds it gently over his arm, before reaching out to help me to my feet. "Thank god you found it. I don't know what I would do if I lost it," I tail off as I reach out to take his hand, pulling my one good foot underneath me and positioning the crutches under my arms, trying desperately to ignore the fact my heart rate kicked up a notch again when my skin touched his.

"Did you adjust the length of those things before you came out tonight to accommodate your shoe?" he asked, breaking the tension with his eyebrows raised as he pointed to the crutches, and I nod sheepishly; watching as he rolled his eyes at me. "Come on, let's get you home."

"My dad is so going to kill me when I rock up drunk and wearing this," I confess, concentrating on placing my crutches carefully, as we walked over to his car. "It's is definitely the last time I go shopping with Brooke."

Lucas slowly trailed his eyes up my body, looking at the short skirt with his eyebrows raised, pausing for a moment before replying. "Yeah, it's not quite your style," he smirked, causing a blush to creep its way up my cheeks. I was just glad it was dark to that he wouldn't be able to see. I let him open the passenger door, waiting for me to slide into the car before handing me my bag and jacket. Closing the door gently, Lucas walked around the front to get into the driver's seat, and I discreetly pile all my belongings on the seat in between us, making the space between our bodies as large as possible. My heart was already a mess without having to deal with it accelerating every ten seconds when he moves to change gear.

Lucas sets of in the right direction of my house without any comments from me. I rest my head against the cool glass looking out of the window, watching the street lights of Tree Hill flash past. Turning the corner onto my street, I see my car, a '63 black convertible Mercury Comet sitting in the drive, which I haven't been able to drive for a few weeks because of my cast. But it wasn't that image that had me panicking. Stood in the open doorway, silhouetted by the hallway lights and looking out across the street, was my father.

"Shit," I whisper, sliding down in the seat and hiding behind Lucas form, and he glances in my direction questioning. "Keep on driving," I instruct him before he starts to slow down at the curb, and I start laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. "And stop looking at me," I manage to get out in between the waves of laughter, and I see his eyebrows raise in response and his lips curve upwards into a genuine smile.