Brooke stood in front of the full length mirror and smoothed over the last stubborn wrinkle of her khaki mini skirt. Dark hair fell perfectly over the soft baby blue of her shirt. A writer from People magazine was coming over to do an article on the Scotts and Brooke wanted everything to be perfect.

"Hey you", Lucas smiled as he walked into their bedroom.

"Hey Husband. You look nice but the flip flops have to go, Broody. Photography code red", she said, referring to casual but still neat appearance of jeans and a shirt.

Lucas rolled his eyes playfully. Sometimes he felt like he was living with the fashion police.

"Why did I know you were going to say that? Actually I came in here to a) put on my sneakers and b) tell you how pretty you look."

"Really?" she frowned. "Are you sure this is okay?"

Brooke was a perfectionist, especially when it came down to her appearance and that had always amazed Lucas. Whether in a business casual suit for work, decked out in Versace for the latest party or bumming out on the couch in pajamas, she always looked beautiful in his eyes.

"Brooke, you've changed three times already and you looked nice in every single outfit. Now for the last time, you look really, really great and those strappy sandal clog things make you look really, really tall", he smiled as he pulled her in for a kiss.

"Thanks babe, I just wanted everything to be perfect. God, I wish this interview could have waited until we're in the new house."

The final details of the deal had been settled and Lucas and Brooke Scott were officially homeowners. In a few weeks after minor renovations, they would be able to move in. Both were excited about their new house in the country but still planned to keep their loft in the city.

"We'll be there soon enough, right Pete?" Lucas sighed as he held her close.

Pete, the couple's newly adopted mutt barked appreciatively. Both were avid animal lovers and had discussed for ages about getting a pet. It had taken Lucas months to talk Brooke out of spending lots of money on one of those yappy toy dogs he knew she so wanted. He had nightmares of her carrying a poor dog around in an oversized Louis Vuitton purse with little pink bows and a matching bandana and tee shirt. The very image made him shutter. He wanted a big dog, a man's dog as he called it. Also he wanted to adopt one from the pound as opposed to buying from a pet store. Finally Brooke had relented, huffing and stalking all the way down to the animal shelter but the minute they both laid eyes on the goofy but lovable mutt with the large tongue hanging out, it had been three way love at first sight. Lucas named the dog, Pete. It was a simple, good, old fashioned name. Gold old Pete. Pete reminded Luke a lot of his first dog, Rocket, who met an untimely demise after breaking his leash on a daily walk one morning.

"I had some caterers deliver food from the Upper East Side. Half and Half Challah, a Spinach, Egg and Onion salad, and Pickled Tongue in Apricot Sauce. You think that will be enough?"

Lucas shook his head.

"Sounds better than the finger sandwiches and lemonade I had planned. By the way, what does one drink with Pickled Tongue?"

"You sir are being a smart ass", Brooke pretended to scold as she playfully punched him in the stomach. "And to answer your question, fine white wine."

"Really? Because if we're out, there is some ice cold Bud in the fridge", he teased.

"Lucas Scott, I'm warning you!"

"Alright, alright", he laughed as they were buzzed on the intercom.

"Broody, she's here", Brooke said nervously.

"Don't worry", Luke shrugged as he kissed her cheek. "We'll be fine."

Moments later the pair was greeting a senior writer identified as Valerie Hall and her photographer named Joe.

"What a lovely place you have", Mrs. Hall acknowledged. "Lucas, you are one of the most popular players since Michael Jordan and Brooke you are making quite the name for yourself here in New York and around the fashion world. The public has a strong interest in you know. We want to give them an exclusive behind the scenes look. If you don't mind, Joe would like to get the photos first."

Brooke and Lucas readily agreed as Joe directed them in a variety of poses around the apartment. It took hours and Brooke, who normally loved taking pictures, was exhausted before the interview started.

"Brooke, you and Lucas have been married for three years now but you've known him practically all your life. How has he changed throughout the years and what is the difference between the guy we saw on the court and the man at home?"

Brooke looked at Lucas and smiled.

"Um, Lucas is a very unique person and I think that's what attracted me to him in the first place. Over the years he as well as his game has matured a lot but overall, he's still the same thoughtful, brooding, sensitive, incredibly loyal guy he's always been. On the court you really see his passion and intensity because he has a real desire to win but more than being a good player, he's a good teammate and I think that's what Luke is most proud of. At home, he's just Luke. He's my husband. He's sweet and romantic and lots of fun."

"His popularity along with that of his brother's as soared to a record high. Lucas and Nathan Scott are the faces of Nike, Coca Cola, McDonald's. How proud are you of his accomplishments?"

"So proud", Brooke grinned. "Lucas really goes for what he wants and I certainly admire that. I mean, we grew up in a small town in North Carolina that is just filled with naturally raw talented ball players. Lucas and Nathan both stood out but more than talent, it takes a lot of dedication and devotion. I have seen this man work so hard to get to where he is today and he deserves all this success because he has truly earned it. I think that is what endears the fans to him. They love him and he loves them. The endorsements and the publicity are very exciting and sometimes even we can't believe it. I mean, next year he and Nathan will have their own shoe! That's pretty wild but we're enjoying every moment of it."

"Lucas, your wife speaks so highly of you and what you've done. What do you have to say about her? Brooke Davis Scott is a name fast emerging on the New York fashion scene."

"I really don't know what to say about Brooke. I mean, there are no words. I am so proud of her and uh…she's really great. She's only 25 and she's doing so much in the fashion world already. She works really hard but I think it's awesome she gets to do something that she loves so much and something that she is really good at."

"Lucas you've always been frank about the shoulder injury you received in high school as result of a car accident. The other night you took a nasty fall against the Phoenix Suns. Any worries that the injury might resurface?"

"No. It was a pretty bad fall but that happens sometimes. You just have to roll with the punches. I got up and I felt a little twang but the team doctor checked me out and it was good to go after half time. Right now I'm probably in the best shape I've ever been in. I'm healthy and I'm happy and I couldn't ask for anything more."

"You were in attendance for that Suns game and Brooke the concern was quite visible on your face when your husband took that spill. From a wife's point of view, how do you deal with the constant threat of injury?"

"I worry. I worry just like Karen, Luke's mom and I worry as I'm sure my sister in law does about Nathan. The chance for something to go wrong is always there but we try not to thank about it. I just thank God that's he a basketball player instead of a wrestler or football player. For me the fear of him getting seriously hurt is always there but Lucas is tough. I have seen him play mad, sad, tired, hurt, sick in rain, snow or shine. He just sort of rolls with the punches and I respect that."

"And you two have been married for three years now?"

"That's correct."

"A chance of any little Scotts running around in the near future?" Mrs. Hall smiled. "Your younger brother already has a son and another on the way. You two have some catching up to do."

The pleasant smile disappeared instantly from Brooke's face. All of a sudden there was no air in the room and she felt like she had been punched in the gut.

"Uh, please excuse me. I need to get more snacks", she announced abruptly.

Brooke all but ran into the kitchen with Lucas close on her heels.

"What the hell kind of question was that?" she asked as furiously popped the cork on an unopened wine bottle.

"Brooke, I'm sorry. She probably didn't mean anything by it. She was just doing her job, making conversation. We'll just tell her something like we've decided to have kids later on in the marriage or something."

"Okay. We could tell her that Lucas. Or we could tell her the truth. You could say your wife can't get pregnant and no one really knows why and we were trying but you're too lazy or whatever to stick with the regimen."

"Brooke, let's not do this now", Lucas warned in a stern whisper.

"Whatever", she sneered. "Let's just get back to your precious little interview that is oh so important."

"Damn right, it's important."

"Of course it's important, Lucas, it's basketball! That's your life, that's what you love, that's all you care about!"

"So I don't care about you now?"

"You tell me. If you weren't on the road so damned much, maybe we could actually have time to make a baby!"

"I knew it! I knew that's what it would come down to eventually and you'd start blaming me."

"Hello, do you realize what you do for a living? You are gone all the time, Luke! It's not a normal job. It's not like you're a dentist from New Jersey. You are Lucas Scott, number 3, savior of the New York Knicks, older brother to Nathan Scott, number 23, star of the Los Angeles Lakers!"

"Why are you bringing this up now? Me being here as a pro was always the plan Brooke and you knew that. I was a basketball player when we met, when we got married...why is it a huge factor all of a sudden?"

"Because it just is!"

"Oh when I'm bringing home 20 million a year and paying all the bills and buying and rebuilding you a freaking Greenwich County mansion, it's not such a big deal! I'll tell you what, Brooke, why don't I just go get a real job? Maybe you'd be happier if I was a dentist living in New Jersey. Would that finally make you happy? And we'll move all this shit you splurged on, let's see, the expensive art, the Oriental rugs, your closet full of designer clothes, and your two billion pairs of shoes, we can just stuff that into a tiny studio apartment! Oh and I hope my new salary as a dentist will be able to support your unlimited credit cards. Then maybe just maybe I'll have time to be home every night and fuck the hell out of you if your stupid, goddamn basil thermometer permits it!"

Both were flushed and yelling at the top of their lungs. They hadn't argued like that ever. In the living room Mrs. Hall and Joe sat very uncomfortable. The walls were thin and the voices loud. It wasn't hard to overhear the entire confrontation. Brooke was humiliated and upset. It was one thing to act so horribly in front of company and another for it to be a high profile reporter for a national publication. Most of all she was bothered by the sheer fact that she and Lucas rarely fought. When they did, it was usually over the toilet seat being left up or hair in the sink. It never came to an insult or screaming match.

"I'm going back out there", he said as he grabbed the food and drink tray.

"Go ahead. I can't."

"You can't or you won't? That figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When things aren't perfect and everything isn't going your way, you get scared to death. I know you."

"Real nice, Luke. Obviously you don't know me as well as you think you do. So go back out there to your little interview, make up some excuse for your erratic wife's irrational behavior, and pretend like everything is perfect in Scott land. You think you know me? You don't even know yourself but I know you. All you know is that you and your brother are the greatest thing walking on two feet because that is all everybody ever wanted to tell you."

With that, she stormed off to the bedroom, leaving Lucas to fend for himself with the interviewer. They wrapped up and he spent the remainder of the day in the gym and at practice. It wasn't mandatory but he was clinging on to anything that would keep him from home. That night instead of cuddling close to one another they slept so far apart that at least two more people could have fit between them. Being stubborn, they were both too angry to swallow their pride and make up. The next day, Lucas flew to New Orleans for an away game against the Hornets. Too depressed for work, Brooke took the morning off and went to Central Park to watch the children play. They were so adorable and so innocent. On the park bench she said a little prayer…one for a baby and one for the state of her marriage.