Sound of Her Voice
By Alaricnomad
Chapter Fourteen: Come Clean
The low thrumming of the appliances was the only sound to accompany Lucas that night in the kitchens as he worked through a familiar routine of cleaning up for closing time; going over the inventory in the pantries and refrigerator, wiping down the counters, and finally, washing the dishes. He rolled up his sleeves as the sink filled, relieved the load of dirty dishes was not so large this day since the afternoon crowd in the café had been smaller than normal. Working up lather between his hands, he picked up the rough cloth and began to vigorously scour the first pot. As he fell into a familiar rhythm, he could not help his mind wandering as he worked.
"Something happened last semester when I was at school."
Since the last time they had seen each other nearly a week before, Peyton came at once and foremost to mind among his idle thoughts. He could not help himself. It wasn't as if she hadn't been on his thoughts 24/7 before, anyway. The infamous night, the first time he had touched her in the way he had…
"My roommate dragged me to this party…"
…the next day, when she had finally confessed what was holding her back from being with him.
"There was a guy."
She had been avoiding him and after numerous attempts to call her, he finally gave in and gave her space. Even so, Peyton Sawyer haunted him.
She was a mystery, a puzzle, and yet simultaneously, Lucas knew so much about her. That she was witty and sharp at first sight, shy on occasion, an intense and passionate individual beneath the surface, a kind and considerate friend, a beautiful soul. But the more he thought about it, the more he shrank back from the idea of seeking more from Peyton than just friendship- or whatever it was they had now. The complications made his head spin. But still…but still…there was something about her that kept drawing him back. If only he could figure out his next step…
"Lucas Scott! It's nearly eleven! Don't tell me you're still working!"
The familiar shrill scream resounded startlingly through the quiet kitchen, its origin erupting a moment later from the lobby through the swinging doors to emerge in the form of Haley James Scott.
He grinned unabashedly as she fixed him with a stern gaze that turned brown eyes to ice, placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down. "You better have a good explanation for working this late, Lucas."
Drying his hands, Lucas casually leaned back against the counter. "Back again, Hales? Feeling nostalgic?"
Haley huffed and waved her hand dismissively. "Someone has to make sure you're still alive. Why are you here so late?"
"Tom's out sick tonight. Ben asked me if I would work an extra shift and close up tonight."
She arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Uh-huh. What is it this time?"
"Another hangover." He was proud of the fact that he kept his face neutrally blank at the memory of the young grad student stumbling and weaving his way that morning up the stairs to his apartment.
"That figures. What would your mom say if she knew you were working extra hours?"
He frowned then. "She wasn't going to find out, Hales. And you're not going to tell her."
"It's her café, Lucas, and she worries about you as much as I do-"
"Enough! Please, Haley, I'm just doing Ben a favor. I wasn't overworking myself. Honest."
Haley's face softened, her eyes warming with concern. "You sure?"
"Positive."
"Alright." She smiled softly.
"He attacked me. And I couldn't fight him off."
--
That night, the moon rose above in the heavens, and the brilliant light streaming down towards earth, washing over them in its pallid glow. They were at the Rivercourt, quietly taking their time together. She was sitting on the bleachers, he lazily stretched out beside her, eyes closed, breathing deep and slow. They were strangely content in each other's presence, with no need to speak.
It had been a long time since she had the chance to just enjoy his company- glad to spend time with him again. In response to her thoughts, she reached out, gently touching his head, smoothing back his hair. The caress and the low, melodious hum she had been keeping up lulled him into a drowsy state. His lips stretched into a lazy smile, shifting his head over to look up at her.
"I recognize that from somewhere." Nathan muttered languidly.
Peyton nodded, her fingers moving downward to trace the contour of his cheekbone- the man who had once been her lover, now the big brother she had never had. "I'm surprised you remember."
"Where's it from?"
"Hmm…my mom used to sing me to sleep with it."
"Mmm, yeah." With a slight smile, he stretched backward, the languid motion resembling the arching back of a feline. "You used to hum it to me, when I was stressed over my dad." He paused. "Back in the beginning, when things were still good."
She nodded in agreement and he blinked at her, his eyes inquisitive. "Will you sing it for me?"
"Doesn't Haley sing for you?"
He shrugged. "Used to." He winced. "Not so much anymore."
She nodded, deciding not to push the subject. "…still, Nathan, my voice isn't all that good…"
"Peyton," He rolled over onto his stomach. "Please?"
She gave in, starting with a soft hum, gradually climbing upward through the octaves as the song became to ascend in complexity, and each note rang through beautiful and clear as the chiming of bells. The melody was familiar, wrapping around him like a warm embrace he had always longed for, tangible in the air around him, something as wanted and welcomed as a lover's touch. Closing her eyes, she found herself reaching half-consciously into her jeans' pocket just to brush her fingers against the tiny brass key she housed there.
Peyton stretched languidly, arching her back to relieve some of the kinks gathered from her awkward position. "Now that that's taken care of, I'm going to set things up for this guy."
Lucas's eyes followed her as she picked up the fish bag, something resembling a carnival souvenir and another plastic bag containing what seemed to be a bowl and fish food. She made her way into the kitchen as he decided to follow him. "Peyton? May I ask again what possessed you to buy a fish?"
She smiled as she proceeded to set things up for the habitat of Michael's new red-tailed aquaria friend. "Truth? When I was like three, I got bit by this dog. So I had a fear of them for the longest time. And my mom was allergic to cats, so the pet we settled on was fish. After my mom died, Brooke and I took it up. We always kept one until high school started. Ala, the fish, whose name is A.L.E.X. IX, by the way."
"Alex the ninth?"
"Nope. A.L.E.X. It's his initials."
"Dare I even ask?"
"Sure. He's the ninth of his line, the latest Arthur Leopold Elliot Xavier Scott." She frowned suddenly in thought. "Or is it the first, since the others were Sawyer-Davises?"
"…."
"Luke?"
"I knew I shouldn't have asked."
Peyton pouted, folding her arms across her chest as she glowered petulantly at him. "Just what do you mean by that?"
"The fact that you never cease to amaze me."
"In a good or bad way?"
"I won't comment on that." He then proceeded to make his way out of the kitchen, taking her attention away from A.L.E.X. as she tilted her head curiously in his direction. "Where are you going?"
"To call the manufacturer of that swing. Unless you can suddenly speak Russian?"
"'Fraid not."
"Didn't think so."
"Can it wait a few minutes? I want to show you how to take care of Alex."
"Changing its name so soon?"
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's easier to say," she countered, not ready to admit that she had realized he was right, "So come on."
"Cannot. Will not. I have no time to take care of a fish."
She opened his mouth to protest, and then faltered, thinking. Meanwhile, Lucas bent over the many pieces that were supposed to be Keith Michael's new swing, sparing her a pensive glance as he skimmed over the paper containing the directions in hopes of finding something resembling a phone number. He paused, humming thoughtfully to himself. "I think I have a solution."
He fished something from his pocket with his free hands and tossed it toward her, the light catching off the object just enough to show it to be small and metallic. Peyton caught it easily, staring stunned and speechless at the tiny brass key resting in her palm. "Luke?"
His back to her, he nonchalantly shrugged as he picked up the phone. "Just for the fish," he mumbled softly.
She swallowed, staring first at the man, then at the key, and back to the man. She didn't dare to let her thoughts go any further. "Right. For the fish."
"What's going on in your head, Sawyer?"
Nathan's question broke through her reflections, as her singing had died out long ago the further she fell into thought. When she took a while to answer, he pressed again. "C'mon, you know you can tell me anything."
Peyton heaved out a deep breath, "Okay. I've been holding this in for a really long time, Nate, and I just have to get it out," a beat of silence, "I'm madly in love with Haley. I'm planning on getting a sex change so she'll fall for me, we'll get married and we'll have lots of curly-haired, musical babies."
Nathan's expression was priceless.
Peyton smirked. She reached out and placed her fingers under his chin, closing his mouth- fallen open in his incredulity. "Gotcha."
He glared, shoving her away as she broke into laughter. "You're evil, Sawyer. I swear to God, you're like devil spawn."
"I'll take that up with Ellie the next time I see her." She pointed skyward. "Might me a while, though." It was strange, that she could now talk about Ellie's death without the familiar twinge of pain. After all, she harbored so many good memories of her birth mother, she supposed it made the heartache that much easier.
He rolled his eyes, drawing himself up to sit beside her. "Whatever. Nice try, though."
She grimaced despite the warmth of his words, turning her head to hide her face in the collar of his shirt. Nathan chuckled at the rather childish display, "Talk to me, Sawyer," he persisted.
She sighed, nestling further into the polo material of his shoulder. "Nathan, if something happened…something that changed me- not necessarily in good ways- would you think differently of me?"
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, resting his chin atop of her head. "Never, Sawyer. Never."
"So…now that we're sharing, what's wrong?"
He arched an eyebrow. "You gave me nothing."
"Nate."
He sighed. "Haley's pregnant. I'm gonna be a dad."
"This time…you weren't there to save me."