They ended up not taking Peyton to the hospital. She was conscious enough to be able to sit up on her own, and argue her case, by the time that they had entered Tree Hill. She was groggy and confused and Lucas had still wanted to take her in just to be safe, but she insisted that she was ok. They left Peyton and Lucas, along with his car, at Lucas' house and then Nathan took Haley to his house so that she could help tend to Brooke.
When the SUV stopped, Peyton immediately got out and started walking, albeit unsteadily, in the direction of her house. Lucas was quick to catch up with her, grasping her elbow and murmuring a rigid 'nut-uh' as he turned her towards his door. She yanked her elbow out of his grasp, barking a, "stop treating me like a child." as they walked through the archway.
"Stop acting like one," he met her evenly.
"I'm not acting like a child!" she proclaimed even as she stormed around to face him.
"Peyton that guy drugged you and you won't see a doctor! That is being childish!" he argued.
"What difference does it make? You said, Haley said it was-"
"Haley's not a doctor Peyton." He exclaimed, "She doesn't know for sure. It could have been anything."
"I just want to forget about it." She whispered and turned toward the hall, disappearing into the bathroom.
He raked his hand down his face and fell onto the sofa. He heard the water start and he groaned. It was going to be a long night. He was mad and frustrated, and she was hurt and embarrassed.
The image of Peyton lying so helpless on that bed kept flashing through his mind. He wanted to kill that punk. There's no telling how far he would have gone if Nathan hadn't have stepped in. The thought scared him somewhat. He was willing to risk it all for her. She meant that much to him. He just wanted to see her safe and protected. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he wanted to be the one to do it. He could have let Nathan handle everything; but it was Lucas who had to take the guy down.
He glanced at the clock and realized it had been forty minutes since the water had first turned on. He just wanted to see her and touch her and make sure that she was OK. Not just safe on the outside- on the inside as well. He was really close to marching into the bathroom and demanding that she come out and talk to him.
At the other Scott household Haley had just come out of Brooke's bedroom where Nathan had so graciously carried her. Not. Haley scoffed at the thought. Nathan had wanted to leave Brooke in the car; at first she thought he was joking until he walked into the house and she soon realized he had no intention of coming back out.
She walked into the kitchen to find Nathan leaning against the counter drinking a glass of water. "Well, she's all tucked in. I left a glass of water and two aspirin on the bedside table. She's going to need it when she wakes up." Nathan didn't so much as blink. "Nathan, are you ok?"
"Yeah, Haley. Peachy."
"Right." She answered sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "Well, I'm going to head home. Just… look after Brooke."
"Brooke can look after herself! If it wasn't for her, this never would have happened."
"Nathan, it wasn't her fault." Haley defended the brunette. "Peyton's not a dog, you couldn't expect Brooke, inebriated or otherwise, to look after her. It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone."
"No." he said, shaking his head. "Not Peyton. I should have been there and Lucas should have been there. She's family, Haley. I should have kept a better eye on them."
"It's not your fault. Ok? Peyton is a big girl and contrary to what you and Lucas seem to believe she can take care of herself. So can Brooke."
"Obviously." He muttered.
"Don't. Don't blame her, ok. She's going to feel bad enough as it is when she wakes up and remembers what happened."
"If she remembers what happened."
"OK. Well, you're obviously in a wonderful mood so I'll just see you on Monday." She said as she started walking off.
"Haley wait." He called as he slowly pushed himself away from the counter. "It's late; stay here."
"I don't think that's a good idea. You're mad and I'm…"
"Not walking home alone in the dark." He finished for her as he took her by the shoulders and guided her towards the stairs. "You can take the guest room. That way you can take care of Brooke when she wakes up- since you're feeling so sympatric and all." He finished with a grin.
"Gee. Thanks. You're hospitality astounds me." She teased, but the smile she gave him was genuine. "Good night, Nathan." She said at the door, closing it softly behind her.
"Nite Hales," he whispered into the empty hall.
He was lying on the couch watching Halloween on cablewhen she walked into the living room wearing nothing but a teeny tiny pair of shorts and one of his white wife beaters. He noticed absently that it was well past 3 am and he wondered briefly if she left particular sleep outfit at his house just to torture him. Seriously, he could practically the roundness of the cheeks of her bottom. He tried to ignore her long, tan legs and the way the thin material of the tank hugged her body as she laid herself out alongside him. He put his left arm around her waist to keep her securely on the couch and next to him. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't talk until she was ready. That she even came to him after their argument was a big step in the right direction.
They lay like that for the next forty eight minutes until the movie was over and when she rolled over to face him he turned the TV off.
"I-I'm sorry Luke." The broken whisper slipped through her lips. "I-", she took a deep breath, "I know better than that." She paused. "I don't know-"
"Hey" he stopped her. "It wasn't your fault," he soothed. "It could have happened to anybody." He moved his hand up to her head to smooth her hair back. As the image of her lifeless form flashed through his mind again, he tensed. "You need to go to the cops Peyton."
"Luke, I just-"
"Peyton, he could have….God only knows what he was going to do if we hadn't have come when we did. And the thoughts…. Peyton…. God, they kill me." He proclaimed.
"Lucas-"
"No. Peyt." He spoke calmly, softly so as not to scare her. "I know you want to forget about this entire night, but you need to tell the cops so he can't do it to someone else." He looked into her eyes, silently pleading with her to give in.
"OK" she whispered.
"Yeah?" when she nodded he pulled her even tighter against him, wrapping both arms around her and resting his chin on her head. "OK. I'll take you tomorrow. We'll do it together." He promised.
"Tomorrow's Sunday," she spoke absently.
"It's the police station, Peyt, they'll be open." He replied patiently. "Come on," he sat up, pulling her with him. "Let's get you to bed." He led her to his bed and tucked her in on the right side. He slid in next to her on the left and she curled into him, throwing her left leg over his.
"Why are you so good to me?" she questioned tearfully.
"Someone's got to be." He kissed her softly on the lips, the nose, and the forehead. "I love you." He whispered.
She didn't say it back. She tucked herself tighter against him and he thought that maybe that meant more than the words did anyway.
The slight haze of the late morning sun shining through a crack in the curtains forced its way beneath his eyelids. He reached randomly for the blond that should be tucked up next to him. When his hand touched only the cool sheets his eyes opened and he frowned. He wasn't supposed to wake up alone.
Pulling on a pair of jeans and a cotton t shirt he slowly made his way through the house, stopping at the kitchen when he spotted the unmistakable tan limbs of his girlfriend standing at the counter. He sauntered over and placed a chaste kiss to the bare of her shoulder, smirking at the small jump and quick puff of air she sucked in.
"You scared me," she explained needlessly as she swatted at his shoulder then leaned in and kissed him quickly. "G' morning."
He pulled her back to him and kissed her deeply. "Yes it is." He stated. "Would have been even better if my girlfriend had been in bed with me with I woke up." He teased.
"Oh yeah? What's she like?" a full blown smile on her lips as she sat at the bench to the table in the kitchen.
He arched one eyebrow, "Oh, you know. Beautiful blond… legs for days… sexy as hell." He filled his coffee cup and strolled over to her, his eyes taking in her appearance again, "Has a thing for prancing around my house in non-existent shorts and tiny little tops."
"Oh," she replied, eyebrows rising. "No. I haven't seen her. But I'll let you know if I do." Her smile unfaltering as she flipped through the mail at his table. She froze when she came across an envelope from a credit card company. It was addressed to 'Mrs. Scott'.
"Whatcha lookin' at Blondie?" Lucas asked as he sat his coffee mug next to hers. One arm braced him against the table and his other trailed from her shoulder to her wrist as he hunched down to her level, trapping her between his arms, and peered over her shoulder, his rough cheek pressed against her soft one. "Mrs. Scott," he gritted out spitefully, "You'd think after twelve years they'd update their data." He said as he adjusted his body so he could sit next to her, tossing the envelope in the trash near the door.
They ate their breakfast in relative silence and when they were both finished, Peyton gathered their plates and cups and rose to put them in the sink. She felt Lucas' hands circle around her waist as she stood there staring out the small window above the sink; a small smile pulled at her lips. She leaned back against him and sighed in contentment. "Do you think there will ever be another one of those?" she asked quietly, her finger nails lazily grazing his forearm.
"Another one of what?" he spoke just as quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Another Mrs. Scott?" she whispered a mischievous glint in her eyes that he couldn't see.
She felt him tense behind her and she rubbed her palm reassuringly over his hands where they were interlocked just below her naval. "I don't know," he breathed out. "Dad's dated a few women, but there hasn't been anything serious that I'm aware of."
His hands slid low on her hips as she turned in his arms. "That's not what I meant," she rubbed her palms over his cotton covered chest, a coy smile starting to play at the corners of her mouth. "I meant do you think there will ever be a Mrs. Lucas Scott." She whispered lowly, slowly, her eyes finally meeting his.
His eyes closed and his head dipped. The words, "God, I hope so," came out in a sigh, on exhale, and his grip tightened on her hips. When his eyes opened again they were a shade of blue she had yet to see, "A Mrs. Peyton Scott." He whispered pressing his forehead against hers; shutting those blue orbs she had been so intently studying.
"Mmmm" she hummed in approval through the closed lips of her smile. "That sounds so perfect." She mumbled, getting lost in the feel of him- his forehead against hers, his fingers digging into her hips, the spicy scent of his skin, just him- raising her arms to his neck, crossing her wrists, one hand playing with the soft blond hairs at his nape.
"I want that Peyton." he stated firmly, his hands slipping up to her waist, gripping the flesh where her tank top had just ridden up. "The two story house with the white picket fence, the 2.5 kids and the SUV in the driveway- I want that with you." He stressed the last word. "I want everything with you." Cupping her cheek to look into her shining emerald eyes, "Everything."
She smiled, looking into his blue orbs, "You'll get that Luke. Someday. I promise." her voice little over a whisper.
He kissed her fervently then, his hand slipping up to the back of her neck to press his lips more firmly against hers. Someday had never sounded so good. His other hand slid down to cup her bottom, pulling her tighter against him. The sound that emitted out of her mouth was something he had yet to hear; driving him wild in every possible way. The things she did to him.
She pressed her body as closely to his as she could get, groaning in frustration when she was still unable to get close enough. She needed to feel him, needed to know that he was there. When she heard him grunt, pressing her even farther into the cabinet, she pulled away and started kissing his neck. He let out an unbridled moan when she hit a spot just below his left ear. Her eyebrow quirked at the sound and she did it again causing Lucas to push even more of his weight against her. She bit down on the same spot firmly, and then soothed it with her tongue before sucking on it again. The way he whispered her name sent a chill up her spine; she gripped the counter behind her with one hand expecting her legs to give out any second.
His hands that had been holding her firmly dropped to the hem line of those 'nonexistent' shorts. She pulled back and the breath was taken from her when she felt his fingers glide gently just underneath the fabric at the tops of her thighs, a silent 'o' shaping her swollen lips just before they were again devoured by his.
She was only mildly surprised when his hands firmly gripped the flesh his fingers had been feathering just below her buttocks, lifting her up and setting her gently on the edge of the counter. She wanted this. She needed this. She needed him. One hand to her tail bone and the other buried within her curls, he held her firmly to him, her legs naturally hooking around his hips.
He couldn't think anything that wasn't this girl in his arms, the blond hair in his palm, the delicate body pressed against him, the supple lips between his. Everything outside of Peyton ceased to exist. She was like his drug. She was in his veins, he was addicted to her, and he was more than ready for an overdose.
He knew he was absolutely done for when he felt her soft cold hands trace up the warm skin of his bare abdomen. He swallowed thickly as her fingers traced the curvature of his muscles starting well below his naval and trailing up to his shoulders, taking his shirt in the process and pulling it over his head. The look in her eyes when he brought his face back to hers was nothing less than sultry.
He pulled her off the counter, setting her feet gently on the floor and turned them around. He moved his feet forward forcing hers to step back all the way to his bedroom, his lips never leaving hers. He blindly closed and locked the door behind him when they made it to his room and gently laid Peyton on his bed, his body covering hers.
He whispered her name when he lowered his lips down to her neck. She breathed out a heavy breath when he bit down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder and her hips unconsciously rose to close the small gap between them. He pressed himself firmly into her center then, pushing her harder into the bed, and just about lost it at the way she moaned his name. He pulled his head back slightly (to keep some control over his body) and brushed his nose against hers.
"What?" she mumbled when she saw the small smile on his lips.
"Nothing," he assured her. "You're perfect." He whispered and pushed a curl back from her forehead. He was well aware of where this was headed; he was well aware that she wasn't stopping it, but he needed a verbal conformation. "Are we really going to do this?" he asked.
She nodded, brushing a kiss against his lips.
"Peyton," he spoke hesitantly, "I- I don't want to hurt you." He confided.
"You'll be gentle" she promised softly, running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. He found her assurance oddly abating. She had complete and utter trust in him. He wouldn't let her down. When his lips met hers again it was languid and passionate and …. Love.