-1In the Middle

No parachutes or safety nets here

One foot in the water to face these fears

"Ah." Brooke sipped, a smile gracing her lips as the hot liquid passed down her throat. "Nectar of the gods."

"I don't know how you can drink that stuff." Nathan gulped down his own coffee - black, the way it was meant to be - and shook his head. "If you have to fill it with thirty other flavors, it's not really coffee."

"To each his own," Brooke shrugged, toasting him, and drank deeply to prove her point.

Nathan hid his smile behind his own mug. He was grateful to have Brooke acting normal again - her outburst outside of Starbucks had left both of them slightly shaken. Neither of them were used to Brooke being anything but in control - of herself and of everyone around her. To see the mask slip, however briefly, was disconcerting.

"Okay," he said, draining his drink and setting it aside. "We should have a plan, right? A route mapped out?"

"Sure, Grandpa." Brooke was contemplating the contents of her drink, twirling her spoon idly. "These highways sure are big and scary. Don't want to go the wrong way and end up in Mexico."

"Shut up," he laughed, and went to find a map in the coffee shop's lobby. He returned a few minutes later and spread it over the table, ignoring Brooke's protests as she hurried to move out of his way. "Okay. It's probably, what, a sixteen hour drive? That's two days, assuming I can drive eight hours straight."

"Yeah, too bad they have that pesky law against womenfolk driving." She snapped her fingers. "Damn."

"You're not driving my car, Brooke," he said firmly.

"Why not?" She sounded outraged, and he sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn't cause a scene. "I don't have a single ticket."

"That's because you've batted your eyelashes out of every single one of them," he pointed out. He'd ridden in Brooke's car when dating Peyton enough times to know that she viewed the speed limit, like every other rule in her life, as a mere suggestion. "No way. That car is my baby. You aren't laying a finger on it."

"Fine." She shrugged, like it didn't matter one way or the other to her, but added, "We'll see how you feel in six hours."

"I know you've got more experience with sitting on your ass than me, but trust me." He smirked. "I'll be fine. Now, let's just find a route so we can be on our way."

Brooke straightened up in her seat, gave the map a cursory glance, and then traced her nail along one of the several squiggly blue lines. "This is the shortest way. It's mostly a straight shot, though there's a detour through Delaware at one point. One of the highways is under construction. It'll be a good place to stop for the night. Other than that, it's smooth sailing."

Nathan stared. "You're making that up."

"I Googled roadmaps before we left." She met his gaze head-on. "I like to know where I'm going."

He chuckled at that, a little in awe of her. "Okay, then. Let's hit the road."

XXX

They had only just crossed into Virginia, Nathan bidding Tree Hill a mental farewell and Brooke letting her hand hang out the window in what could have been a good-bye wave, when it happened.

They'd made it this far without incident, an entire hour of steady driving on Nathan's part and Brooke seated beside him, legs crossed, head nodding to the music they'd finally agreed on. It was almost ... peaceful, Nathan decided, and it was just then that there was a loud bang.

"That doesn't sound very good," Brooke remarked, her casual tone at odds with the concern in her eyes.

"No, it doesn't," was his grim reply, and as they watched, clouds of steam began to rise up from the hood. He pulled to the shoulder off the road, sighed, and took his hands from the wheel to bury his face in his palms. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Brooke touched his shoulder. "I'll call a two truck," she offered. "Your baby will be up and running again in no time. This is just a minor setback, Nate."

He didn't look up, so his voice was muffled when he asked, "Why does everything I love keep running out on me?"

Brooke didn't have an answer for that.

XXX

"I'm going on a picnic," Brooke announced. "And I'm bringing Avon moisturizing cream, baseball cards, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - the Johnny Depp version, not the original with the creepy old guy - drums, eyeliner, um ... um. Oh, damn. What'd you say for 'F'?"

"Fog machine," he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. "Fog machine, Godiva chocolate, hamburgers and hot dogs, and ... let's see. I. I, I, I. Oh! My Isaac Mizrahi jacket. Okay. Your turn."

He shot her a look of pure disbelief. "You're cheating."

"Am not!" she denied automatically, straightening her shoulders.

"Are, too," was his extremely mature retort. "I can't even pronounce whatever the hell it was you just said. Unfair advantage."

"Just because your level of sophistication is as stunted as -"

"Your height?" he supplied with a smirk. "Listen, game over, Davis. I've been patient so far, but this isn't a seventh grade slumber party."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with feigned contriteness. "Did you have a better idea of how to pass the time while we're stuck in the middle of nowhere?"

"You know, if you're bored, you could always hitchhike back to Tree Hill," he suggested, only half-kidding. It had been three hours since Brooke had called AAA and there still wasn't a tow truck in sight. He was just about ready to give up on this ridiculous lovesick mission and go back home to lick his wounds.

Brooke merely rolled her eyes at him. "Don't get snippy with me, mister. Just because day one of the Nathan and Haley Reunion Tour didn't go well, doesn't mean all hope is lost."

"Didn't go well?" He chuckled harshly. "That's an understatement. We've barely gotten out of the state."

"It's a big state." She shrugged, unconcerned that their journey might take longer than originally planned. There wasn't very much waiting for her back in Tree Hill. "Besides, this will all be worth it when you see Haley and get things straightened out again."

He paused. How could Brooke sound so confident? He had no idea what to expect from Haley, and he'd been in a relationship with her up until three days ago. With a sigh, Nathan shook his head. "You're probably right."

"I usually am," she murmured. She was quiet for a minute - probably some kind of record for her, he figured - and then she straightened up in her seat. "Nate, how did you know? That Haley was the one?"

Suddenly exhausted, Nathan let his head rest on the window, watching the other cars drive onward. Dusk was setting in, and the taillights of the passerby glowed red - like a warning, he thought, that he might not like what he found when he got where he was going. "I'm not sure," he replied. "I guess ... she made me want to be better. I've never cared before, what anyone else thought. But Haley mattered."

"Yeah." Brooke, too, was staring out her window, though she couldn't see past the thick line of trees that separated the highway from civilization. She wondered if Nathan realized he was speaking in the past tense. "That's kind of what I figured."

He wasn't normally one for heart-to-hearts, but it was kind of nice, talking to Brooke. Their exchanges were usually insults, good-natured or otherwise, or just Brooke chattering non-stop while he zoned out, but he didn't think they'd ever had a real conversation before. "Is that how you feel about Lucas?"

"Oh." She chuckled, but it ended in a sigh. "Lucas isn't the one for me. I think we all know that. But ... yes. He mattered."

"And you're just gonna give him up? Just like that?" He shook his head. "Man, Davis, I thought you had more guts than that. Kind of hypocritical, don't you think?"

She gave him a wry smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You and Haley were on your way to the altar. Things never got that far for me and Luke."

"Yeah, well." He looked away again, focused on the miles of road that stretched out before them. "Feels like Haley and I will never get there, either."