Hey everyone, thanks so much for the reviews. Seriously, I love them. They are great writing incentives…hint, hint. Enjoy. Also, I am in no way a Taylor Swift fan, but this song really fits Lucas and Peyton in this chapter. Really, this whole part of this story.

Chapter Four

White Horse

I'm not a princess
This ain't a fairytale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet
Lead her up the stairwell
This isn't Hollywood,
This is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now it's too late for you and your white horse,
To come around

"What is she doing?"

Brooke gave Lucas an exasperated look. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Brooke, she's going to get hurt-"

Brooke gave him a sardonic smile. "She's already hurt. That's kind of why she's doing this."

Lucas clenched his teeth. "That's not the kind of hurt I meant, Brooke. You really think this is good for her?"

"I think Peyton's a big girl. She can make her own decisions." Brooke was hanging clothes on the racks, and then she turned to look at Lucas. "Look, Luke, don't worry about her, okay? She'll be okay."

He was quiet for a moment. "Is it really every night?"

Brooke sighed. "Usually. Look, she's dealing, okay? You of all people have to let her."

LPLPLPLPLP

Lindsey was in the kitchen, drinking coffee in her robe when he got back to the house. ""Hey, where have you been so early on a Saturday?"

"Brooke's store." Lindsey raised an eyebrow quizzically and he clarified, "She's been having some issues with her mom and I just…thought I'd see if everything was okay."

"You're sweet." Lindsey came forward and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him slowly. "So, what got into you last night?"

"What? Oh…" He smiled. "Just thought I'd show you I can still surprise you."

"Well, that was definitely surprising."

"Good. Can't let you thinking you have me all figured out."

"Ah, I see. Coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Lindsey's smile faded as she turned her back on her husband and walked to the coffee maker. She may not have her husband figured out, but she knew enough to realize there was a lot he wasn't saying.

LPLPLPLPLP

That Monday, Haley came into Lucas' office for lunch, as usual. One of the first things she said was, "So where did you and Lindsey disappear to on Friday?"

"Nowhere really. Just wanted some alone time."

Haley's eyebrows shot up. "Well, excuse us. Was everything okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Uh, because you looked ready to kill someone." He didn't answer. Haley leaned forward. "You saw Peyton?"

Lucas' head snapped up. "You knew she was there?"

"Brooke told me."

"But you, you knew that-that she's been-"

Haley's voice was quiet. "Yes."

Lucas sighed. "I'm just worried about her."

"I know. I am, too, Luke, but she's-"

He cut her off. "A 'big girl', yeah, I know."

Silence settled for a few moments, then Haley said, "So, um, what does seeing Peyton have to do with you and Lindsey disappearing. Seriously, you came back and practically dragged her off."

Lucas felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he looked away.

After a beat of silence, Haley said, "Look, if you don't tell me, I'll just ask Lindsey."

"Fine, okay, uuuh…we kinda went to one of the dressing rooms in the back…"

Haley was uncomprehending for a second, and then comprehension dawned. "Oh, God, Luke!"

Defensive, he held up his hands. "What?! What is so wrong with that?"

"You see Peyton leave with some strange guy in a bar, supposedly try to stop her, and then go straight to your wife and practically drag her away for sex in a dressing room of a club? You don't see anything wrong with that?"

"Okay, maybe. I just lost my mind, Hales. She was drunk, and this guy was all over her, it looked really…sketchy?"

"Sketchy?"

"Sketchy."

"You're jealous."

Lucas groaned. "No, it's not…it's not about being jealous! I'm not jealous! I just want her to be okay!"

"Luke, first of all, she's not okay, and second of all, you being worried about Peyton does not translate into you dragging your wife into a dressing room. You being jealous does."

"How exactly?"

"I don't know, in some twisted way you were trying to get back at her maybe? I don't even pretend to understand the way you act when it comes to Peyton lately."

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "That makes two of us."

LPLPLPLPLP

The next weekend, Lindsey had to fly to New York for a meeting with some publishers. She and Lucas were in pretty far in the editing of The Comet, and publishing deadlines were being set.

Lucas drove her to the airport and said goodbye at the gate, and he couldn't help but be relieved when she was gone. The talk of the book always made him feel suffocated and exposed, as though the true meaning of the comet was written all over his face.

That night, he drove to Tric alone.

LPLPLPLPLP

Peyton was in her usual bar stool, talking to Owen about Lucas' first book.

"And here's what he wrote, he wrote that 'In that moment…my triump was not a state championship but a moment of clar-i-ty. I was and would always be…in love with Peyton Sawyer.'" She looked up from her glass. "That is me. Peyton."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." Owen informed her. "This is the first time you've wanted to talk about the forbidden topic…what gives?"

"I dunno." She muttered. "Bad day." She woken up in tears from a dream she could barely remember. All she knew was she'd been in the hotel room, trying to get to Lucas, but hadn't been able to somehow.

The bar top blurred in front of her, and she blinked quickly as she looked back at Owen. "I think I need more."

"Well, well, well. Peyton Sawyer."

She turned and her mouth fell open. "Chris fucking Keller? !"

He grinned. "She remembers me." He took the seat next to her.

Peyton groaned. "What are you doing here?"

"Playing a gig nearby…thought I'd check out the old home turf." He ordered a drink, then turned back to Peyton. "We haven't seen each other since Honey Grove! Let's see…you were the one with Lucas then, right? How'd that work out."

Peyton threw back a shot. "Go away."

Chris winced. "That bad, huh? Is that why you're camped at the bar?"

"Owen. One more."

"I'll get this one, and make it two." Chris said, his signature cocky grin in place. "Now, tell me all about it, Peyton."

"Well, Lucas got married. And not to me."

Chris put on a pitying face. "Tough stuff. You need Chris Keller to console you?"

"Never." She said vehemently. "I will never be that drunk."

"You might want to reconsider. I'm a real good listener….among other things." Chris turned the smile wattage up. "In fact, I could show you-" Suddenly, a fist collided with Chris' jaw, and he went tumbling off the bar stool.

Peyton stared, wide eyed, as Lucas yanked Chris up by his collar. "No way. You stay the hell away from her-"

"Geez, man, last time you didn't get this mad last time I was with one of your girlfriends, and I was in bed with her -" Lucas shoved Chris so he crumpled to the ground again, shouting as he fell, "Geez, dude, aren't you married anyway?"

Lucas turned blazing eyes on Peyton. "Chris Keller?"

She glared at him. "What do you care?"

He shook his head, anger and jealousy choking him. "I just didn't think you would ever stoop that low."

Peyton inhaled sharply. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Peyton slapped him. Hard.

Lucas was busy holding his cheek, leaning against the bar, so Peyton turned to Chris, who had just picked himself up off the floor.

"C'mon, let's go."

Chris' eyes widened. "For real?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Sweet."

LPLPLPLPLP

"What is it about Lucas, anyway? I mean, I'm not going to complain, the dude has gotten me some action."

Peyton drew back. "Okay, if we're gonna do this, we need to get some things straight. One, you don't talk. Second, you definitely do not sing. Third, you do not hang around in the morning. And fifth…I meant fourth, this is just sex. And it is not about you."

"Oh, that I am totally clear on. It's about Lucas."

Peyton blinked up at him. "That is not not talking."

Chris grinned. "I feel kinda bad for the guy. I mean, I've been slapped by you, too. Kinda hot, but it does hurt."

"Just shut up and take off your damn pants."

LPLPLPLPLP

Two hours later, Chris Keller was sleeping soundly in her bed, and Peyton was staring into the darkness. Her drunken haze had disappeared; in fact, it had been fading ever since she'd seen Lucas.

Suddenly, she could not take the presence of Chris Keller in her bed, and she quickly got up and retreated into the hallway.

Her knees gave out below her and she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She was suddenly weighed down. She had slept with Chris Keller. She had slapped Lucas. She had had nothing but a string of drunken nights and one night stands for the past few weeks.

And none of it was helping.

For the first time in awhile, since before the new strategy, Peyton let herself really cry.

LPLPLPLPLP

"Good morning."

Brooke froze, mid bite of her muffin. She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, God, please tell me I'm having a dream."

Chris leaned on the counter, grinning. "Still dreaming about Chris Keller, huh?"

"Correction, I mean a nightmare." Brooke stared at him, still in shock. "Actually, I know I'm having a nightmare, because even Peyton wouldn't-"

"Hey!" Peyton appeared in the living room, glaring at Chris. "What did I say about hanging around? Get the hell out!"

Chris held up his hands in surrender, quite clearly amused by the situation, and returned to Peyton's bedroom.

Brooke turned wide eyes on Peyton. "Chris Keller?!"

Peyton fell onto the couch. "I know."

"Chris Keller."

"Brooke," Peyton snapped. "I know, okay? But Lucas was at Tric, and he punched Chris, and he was talking, and I slapped him, and-"

"Wait, wait, wait. You slapped Lucas? And he punched Chris?"

There was suddenly a rapid succession of knocking, hard and urgent. Brooke rolled her eyes. "God, I wonder if that's Chris' entourage to bring him his breakfast or something horrific…."

She opened the door, revealing Lucas, wild-eyed and purposeful. "Is Peyton here?"

"Uh…" Brooke threw a look over her shoulder at Peyton, who had stood up and was trying to make a run for it. But Lucas pushed past Brooke and into the living room.

"Chris Keller?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Chris Keller?!"

"Stop saying that, you saw me leave with him!"

"Someone say my name?" Chris stepped out of the bedroom, now fully clothed. He smiled, feigning excitement. "Lucas! Great to see you, man, the last time was such a treat for me."

Peyton moaned quietly. "Just get out."

"Sure." He walked past them, stopping by the door, Lucas glaring daggers at him. "Anytime you want seconds…and you will want seconds-"

Lucas grabbed Chris by the shoulders and shoved him up against the door. "You listen to me, Keller…you will stay the hell away from her! Or I will personally make damn sure that you are sorry."

Chris left as soon as Lucas released him.

After the door closed behind Chris, a long, heavy silence settled. Peyton finally stepped a little closer to Lucas. "What the hell are you doing?"

Brooke stood up and retreated wordlessly upstairs.

Lucas whirled and retorted sarcastically, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I ruin your chances of a fulfilling, long term relationship with Chris Keller?"

Her voice dangerously low, Peyton shot back, "Lucas, you are married and this is none of your business."

"He's a bad guy, Peyton, and you know that! Excuse me for trying to protect you!"

"It is not your job to protect me! I don't want that, and I don't need it!" She was yelling now. "And why do you even care anymore?!"

"Why do I care? Because I'm worried about you! What you're doing, it's not you, Peyton!"

"What am I doing exactly?"

His voice low and poisonous, Lucas hissed, "Sleeping around. When Chris Keller becomes part of that list, you know you're getting around."

For a moment, the rage coursing through Peyton's body made it impossible for her to form a coherent sentence. When she finally spoke, her words were slow and deliberate, her voice shaking with anger. "No way. You don't get to do that. You of all people do not get to judge me for how I am getting through this. No fucking way. Now get out of my house."

Peyton walked shakily over to the couch, where she sat down and stared straight ahead, jaw clenched.

Lucas remained rooted in place for a minute or so, then he followed Peyton, sitting down in the chair next to the couch and faced her. "I'm sorry."

Peyton continued to straight ahead, and she replied in a flat voice, "I said get out."

"I'm just worried about you, Peyt. I don't want you to get hurt."

The strained concern in his voice, so familiar, made her chest ache. Peyton allowed her eyes to dart over and meet his. "Too late." She whispered.

They were quiet for a moment, and she added quietly, "You can't save me anymore, Lucas."

"Someone's got to."

She closed her eyes. "Not from this."

He nodded slowly and walked to the door. Just before he closed the door, he said awkwardly, "Sorry, again."