Title: Come What May
Fandom: One Tree Hill/Supernatural
Genres: Angst, Romance, Crossover
Pairing: Dean/Peyton
Spoilers: One Tree Hill, "The Leaver's Dance"; Pre-Supernatural
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't 'em. Wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself if I did. The title comes from the Air Supply song of the same name. Air Supply, Cynthia Weil and Tom Snow own the song.
Summary: This is how Dean and Peyton's love affair began. Prequel to Split Second. It isn't imperative that you read that to understand this, though.
Author's Notes: Takes place before the Supernatural pilot and at the beginning of the summer following One Tree Hill's The Leaver's Dance. In this realm Cassie never existed and Jake never came back. Plus, Sam's still at Stanford and Brooke's off in California.
Author's Notes (2): Once again, this is the unbeta'ed copy because Gina decided to leave me to go on vacation in Jamaica. The whore. So, this is not the final draft. And it's lengthy because everything had to be in this chapter. The last one will be extra long, too and will hopefully be up by the weekend. And remember: Comments are crack.
Come What May: Chapter Nine
Peyton woke up with the unfamiliar feeling that she wasn't alone in her bed. The arm slung loosely across her waist was a dead giving away as was the hard chest acting as her pillow.
Lifting her head slightly, Peyton glanced up to see that Dean was still asleep. Peyton remained in her position, silently musing over how they had wound up in her bed.
The night before after the party had ended, Dean had stayed behind to help her with the clean up. They had began talking about their relationship and once Dean expressed the want to move forward, things had spiraled out of control.
They had began making out in the kitchen, but luckily Dean was able to keep his head about the whole thing. As much as he wanted her, he said that he didn't want to rush. She wanted him to rush, but even she knew that he was right to take things slow. They had finished the dishes, after a water fight during which they had wound up making out again.
When she had slipped in a puddle of water, twisting her ankle, Dean had carried her up to her bed where they had laid down to talk. Talking led to more kissing and somehow amidst that they had fallen asleep.
So here they lay in a tangled heap on her bed.
Pressing a kiss to the tip of Dean's nose, Peyton began to wriggle out of his grasp, only to have his arm tighten around her.
"You weren't seriously thinking of leaving me, were you?" he murmured, trying his hardest to stifle a yawn as he turned his eyes to her.
"I was just going to the bathroom," she reassured him. "I'll be right back."
Had he been more alert, Dean probably would've put up more of a fight but he was still half-asleep. He allowed Peyton to leave him, his eyes following her every move until she'd locked herself up in the bathroom across the hallway.
When his eyes landed on Peyton's bedside clock, he let out a small groan. It was eight o'clock in the morning. He had spent yet another night at Peyton's house. If this didn't arise suspicion amongst their friends, he didn't know what would.
When Peyton padded back into the room a few moments later, Dean sat up as she climbed back into the bed with him, curling up at his side. "So, what are the plans for today?" Peyton asked, toying with the buttons on his shirt.
"Not really sure. Why? Did you have something in mind?" Their conversation the night before had fell short. There had been no set plans for the day, but he thought that somewhere between the childhood stories and the horrors of their love lives that they had agreed to attempt a relationship. He was pretty sure that's the decision that they'd mutually agreed upon.
Peyton shook her head. "You know, we could always go skating again," she suggested, grinning up at him.
"You should count your lucky stars that you got me in them the first time. Girlfriend or no girlfriend you're pushing your luck."
Dean's words hung there in the air, both of them silent, not knowing what to say. Did they refute his statement? Was she his girlfriend?
They hadn't hammered out the details and then again this wasn't grade school where you had to ask the other person to be your girlfriend/boyfriend. Though, it had been awhile since Dean had had a girlfriend so maybe all the rules had changed.
"Okay, then," Peyton relented, leaning over to brush a kiss to Dean's cheek. "No skating," Peyton replied, snuggling closer to Dean. "What do you want to do, then?"
"I have no complaints about staying right here."
---
Dean left on Thursday when worked called. Well… when work left him a voicemail.
Dean had turned off his phone while he and Peyton were at a drive-inn movie in Summerville and didn't get the message from his dad until they'd arrived back at Peyton's house.
He had left town that night, calling her the following morning to tell her about his spur of the moment trip out of town. He'd promised that he'd make it up to her whenever he returned and that was one promise that he would see to fruition.
He planned to take her out on an actual date when he returned.
If only he knew what it was like to be out on an actual date.
---
Peyton was stepping out of the bathroom when she heard the front door open. Walking to the railing of the stairs, she watched as Dean maneuvered his way into the house, his duffel slung over his shoulder.
She peered down, smiling as she watched Dean's eyes swept over the house, then landed on her standing atop the stairs.
"Honey, I'm home," he joked with a wide grin, kicking the door closed as he dropped his duffel at his feet.
"You're back."
"And you're wet," he observed with as much restraint as possible. If his four days away taught him anything it was that she was ingrained into every fiber of his being. With her was where he wanted to be and that wasn't going to make his inevitable departure from her life any easier - on either one of them.
"I was in the shower."
He frowned in mock disappointment. "And you didn't wait for me?"
"I would have had I known that you were on your way back," she teased, knowing the game all too well.
Over the past two weeks since they had decided upon the course of their relationship, they had been throwing sexual barbs at one another right and left.
They'd had several opportunities to take their relationship farther, but neither had made the first move. Peyton was too scared to make the first move and Dean didn't want things them to progress much too quickly.
Dean began trudging his way upstairs as he said, "I had my eye on the prize, so to speak. I wanted to get back to you." At the last step, he added sincerely, "I'm sorry I didn't call."
"It's okay. You're two for two with the coming back, at least."
"In all fairness, you did keep my lucky shirt," he teased, gesturing to the button down blue shirt that she was wearing.
"I found it on the floor. Finder's keepers, buddy," she said as Dean leaned forward to capture her lips. A sigh escaped Peyton's lips as she melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring him closer. "I missed you," she whispered when they broke apart.
"It was only four days."
"It felt like longer."
"Yeah, it did."
Peyton made her way into her room as she toweled off her hair. "So everything went okay, I assume."
"Oh, yeah. Just great," he said flippantly. If only knew the shit that he had to go through… But then she never would because he would never tell her. He would never put her in danger that way and he would never make himself that vulnerable. He didn't even want to contemplate revealing that dark family secret and what impact it'd have on their relationship.
As she grabbed her hairbrush and began pushing it through her hair, she turned to him to ask, "Are you ever going to tell me what it is you do?"
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but wasn't ready to barrage her with a series of lies and untruths. Instead, he opted for, "Maybe one day."
That, at least, wasn't a complete lie.
---
"So…," Skills began looking from Lucas to Junk to Mouth and then finally to Dean, waiting for him to lift his head from his food. They were all curious as to what had been happening between Dean and Peyton but none of them had had enough balls to come right out and ask Dean.
They were all acutely aware of the hours that Dean spent at Peyton's, but it was the latest development that had them all bewildered. Dean had been spending the nights there, too so they had been left to wonder and form their own hypothesis, but the time for simply wondering were now over.
They wanted details and they wanted them now.
Realizing that all the guys were looking at him, Dean lifted his head from his sandwich to find four pairs of eyes focused on him. Dropping his sandwich onto his plate, Dean asked, "What?"
"We've been patient, Dean, but you're holding out on us, man."
"What're you talking about Skills?"
"You and Peyton, dawg."
Dean glanced from one boy to the next. "You all seriously want to sit here and gossip like we're a bunch of girls at a slumber party?"
"Yeah," they all chimed at the same time.
Dean shook his head as he told them, "Well, I'm not gonna do that. I respect Peyton way too much to talk about what goes on between us with you guys."
As they whistled, Dean immediately realized his mistake. He cursed to himself as he sat back in his chair. His appetite had suddenly disappeared now that Karen's Café had transformed into Central Perk.
"So, there's something to tell," Skills said, tapping his chin.
"There's nothing to tell," Dean insisted. "Peyton and I are…," he trailed off, watching as they all leaned forward, hanging on his every word. He felt like he was in the midst of the Grease screenplay. Leather jackets, greased hair, bleacher dancing and all. Weird.
"You are…?" Lucas questioned. Even he was out of the loop. Haley had been tight lipped about anything and everything on the Dean and Peyton front, not giving him any details aside from telling him that they were spending oodles of time together. Yes, she had even said oodles.
"We're… we're…," Dean stammered. With a sigh, he confessed, "We're taking things slow."
"That's girl code for until you're trustworthy, you ain't gettin' any," Skills said, sitting back in his chair, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Man, that's just… cruel. I can't believe Peyton threw down the slow card."
"Actually, it was my idea."
Junk chose that moment to involve himself in the conversation. "Um… why?"
"Because it seemed like the most logical course to take given the circumstances."
"Dean, dude… do you hate yourself that much? You're never gonna get laid," Junk continued, the others chorusing their agreement.
Dean grabbed a napkin, wiped his mouth, then crumbled it into a ball, tossing it onto his empty plate. "I have no interest in getting Peyton into bed."
A variety of arguments erupted from around the table.
"Why? Did you develop a penchant for boys?" Skills blurted out, everyone turning their eyes to secure him with pointed looks. "What? You were all thinking it! I just said it."
"No, Skills. At this point bedding Peyton is not the highest priority on my list."
"And just what is high priority on the Dean list?" Lucas asked, rolling his eyes at his own word choice.
"Not shattering her heart into a thousand pieces when I have to leave her for good."
---
It was their third attempt at a date.
The first try had been trumped when the dress Peyton had bought for their date had ripped while she was getting ready. She hadn't wanted to wear another one so they had postponed that particular date.
For their second date, they'd remarkably made it out of the door and were in the car en route to their dinner reservation when Haley called, in desperate need of extra hands at the café. So, they had gone to help Haley out at the overly crowded café, promising that the next time that they planned to go out that nothing would heed their plans.
Tonight, they refused to let anything ruin their night. They had turned off both their phones, on the off-chance that an emergency would arise. Though they had sworn bodily harm to anyone that disturbed them.
Peyton was curious as to what Dean's plans were for the evening seeing as how they had driven two hours out of the way to Raleigh. When she had asked what he had planned he only promised that the night away from Tree Hill would be enjoyable.
The last place Peyton had ever expected Dean to take her was to a visual arts center. Hell, it was the last place Dean himself ever intended to go on a date. Art centers were not his stomping ground. He was used to taking girls to bars for dates that he went on. But those girls weren't anything like Peyton.
Art may not have been his forte, but he took pleasure in seeing the smile on Peyton's face as she meandered around the building, taking in every sculpture and painting. Her squeals of delight at finding something that she enjoyed or admired was worth spending a night amongst things that he didn't understand and couldn't comprehend.
After Peyton had rounded the art house - twice! - Dean took her to an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Raleigh, amusing her with his knowledge of Italian and his many other languages.
When asked where he'd adapted his bilingual tongue, he told her that his parents were cultural peoples. Had he been Pinocchio he was sure his lengthening nose would've taken out her eye. Perhaps both.
When several tables around them congregated to the dance floor, Peyton pulled Dean out of his chair as well amid his protests. Once they had found a spot amongst the crowd, Peyton slid into Dean's arms.
"I had a nice time tonight," she told him, her eyes baring into his. She wasn't sure how she knew and if she could be for sure, but there was something in his eyes that was unsettling to her. She had come to know a lot about Dean over the summer and even though she didn't know quite as much as she'd like to, she knew him fairly well - well enough to know when he was keeping something from her.
She'd known from the very beginning that he was keeping aspects of his life from her. He skirted certain subjects and though she tried to chuck it up to him being a very private person, she knew that there was more to it than that.
But she wouldn't prod. There some things that she hadn't shared with him. The Lucas thing especially. Did she want to tell Dean? Yes. Of course. He had the right to know. He and Lucas were friends after all and it was bound to come out sooner or later. She'd tell him when she felt ready. The question was would she ever be ready. Those wounds, though buried now, were still fresh. She didn't even want to contemplate having to relive her tumultuous unrelationship with Lucas, especially to Dean, of all people.
"I'm glad," Dean said as they swayed to the music. Okay, not so horrible, he thought.
"No one has ever taken me to an art house before."
"Really?"
Peyton shook her head. "Really. It meant a lot that you did that."
"Your art is a big part of who you are, Peyton. Even though we haven't known each other for long, I know that. I just wanted you to know that it matters to me. That you… you matter to me."
Peyton stared up at him, breathless. His words reverberated in her head, ringing in sync to the words that Lucas had told her so long ago.
But for some reason Dean's words meant more.
---
"Peyton, are you almost ready?" Dean asked as he paced the floor outside her bedroom door. They were celebrating Skills' birthday at TRIC and she was going to make them late.
He checked his watch once again, bemoaning himself for agreeing to wait for her. Haley had offered to wait for Peyton so that he could go on to the party with the guys, but did he let her? No!
He hadn't suspected that it would take Peyton two hours to prettify herself, though. But seeing how she was a seventeen year old girl he shouldn't have expected less.
"Keep your pants on!" she yelled from behind the door.
"You can't see me, but I'm glaring at you right now," he said, leaning against the doorjamb.
Suddenly the door was yanked open, making Dean stumble so as not to fall flat on his face. Once he recovered, he found Peyton standing in front of him, looking rather annoyed. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"I need your help."
"With…?"
She spun around revealing her open backed dress. "The zipper's stuck."
Dean gulped, staring at her bare back. Two words repeated themselves in his head - No. Bra. He rolled his eyes at his own dramatics, stepping forward to help her. "You just need a man's touch is all."
Peyton harrumphed as Dean mentally scolded himself for letting those words pass his lips. He'd been in Tree Hill a total of six weeks and even though he very much wanted a physical relationship with Peyton, he wasn't ready to advance their relationship to that level quite yet. He liked how pure things were between them now. He liked not having a relationship based solely on sex and their relationship was about so much more than how compatible they were between the sheets.
But standing her now, readying himself to zip up her dress all he could think about was how fast he could get her out of it.
He yanked at his shirt collar. It was hot in her room. Stifling, in fact. Were the walls closing in or were his hysterics at an all time high?
"Dean?" Peyton queried when he had yet to help her with her zipper dilemma.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry," he apologized. Yes, it was hysteria. Hysteria due to lack of sex and the fact that he was dating a teenager. He was surprised he hadn't gone crazy before now. "I, uh… I need you to urn around so that I can zip you up," he told her.
"Right." She spun around to allow him access to her zipper.
He yanked the zipper a few times to unloosen it before sliding it up. "There. All zipped up," he announced, quickly snatching his fingers away.
Peyton faced him again, thanking him with a kiss to his cheek. As she walked across the room to retrieve her purse he said, "You know, I honestly miss the jeans."
"Yeah, how come?"
"Because the dresses make my brain veer off it's pure and innocent path."
Peyton couldn't contain her laughter. "Pure and innocent? Really, Dean?"
"Hey! I am not a horn dog, you know."
"I never said you were. You said you were."
Dean threaded a hand through his hair. "So, you ready?"
"Just a second. Why the hurry?"
Dean checked his watch again. They were officially late. "You're slow. We're late. I need a drink. The end."
Her purse in hand, Peyton told him, "I'm ready."
"Finally!"
"How do I look?"
Dean glossed over her, taking in the high heels, the stockings and the emerald green dress. "Oh, yeah. I definitely miss the jeans," he groaned as he led the way out of her bedroom with Peyton laughing behind him.
---
Dean sat at the bar with Haley and Fergie, watching Peyton out on the dance floor with Skills, Lucas, Junk and Mouth and the rest of the crowd.
The party was in full swing, the turn out better than Peyton and Haley had originally intended. The success of the party was due in part to Fergie having the party announced on the radio and the arrival of Skills' family from Charlotte.
Laughter chorused between them as Skills became the engineer of the train as it made it's way around TRIC. "I'd say that this is a birthday that Skills won't forget," Haley told Dean, who was not listening. He was more intent on the side conversation currently in progress between Lucas and Peyton on the dance floor. They were standing close together, deep in conversation.
Their intimate conversation would not have bothered him had Lucas not been holding Peyton's hand. He had squashed the thoughts that Lucas and Peyton had had a past relationship. They would've told him so if they had.
Someone would've told him. Right?
He pulled his eyes away as the conversation broke up and Peyton made her way toward him. She brushed a kiss to his cheek asking why he was being anti-social.
Maybe his crack about her being social enough for the both of them had pushed the envelope too far.
But enough was enough.
He wanted the truth.
And he wanted it now.
---
Dean followed Peyton upstairs to her room, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he lingered in the doorway. He watched as she set her purse down on her desk as she checked for any messages on the answering machine.
"You know I think I'm just gonna go…," he told her.
"Dean, wait," Peyton called out as Dean turned to leave. "What's wrong? You've been all emo since we left the party."
"Just tired is all."
Peyton eyed him skeptically. "You're sure that's all?"
Dean nodded his head. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Peyton frowned as Dean disappeared from her doorway. No goodnight kiss. No 'I'll call you'. Nothing. Now, she knew something was wrong with him. She just wished that he would tell her what it was that was bothering him.
She was reaching around her back to unzip her dress when Dean burst through the doorway. "No. You know, I've put off asking this question for as long as possible, but after tonight I can't just not ask it."
Peyton stared at him, anticipating the question that he so desperately wanted answered. "What is it that you want to know?"
"Was Lucas… were you and him… did you…," he rambled on, clearly not wanting to come out and ask the question. He really didn't want to know if Peyton and his friend had been romantically involved, even if he had been suspicious of the fact for a long time. He didn't want to know because it was going to change the entire circle. Clearing his throat, the words finally came. "Were you and Lucas involved?"
"Yes," Peyton said simply.
"Yes?" he repeated. She didn't even stammer or stutter or… or anything! God, he was going to be sick.
He fell onto Peyton's bed, dropping his head into his hands as he heard her say, "It was a few years ago. There was a small… thing. It's history now."
Dean snapped his head up to lock eyes with her. "It is? It certainly doesn't look that way tonight."
"We're still friends, Dean. And he needed a friend tonight."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Hey, that's your prerogative. Believe what you want. A lot happened with Lucas and I, but things between us didn't work. It destroyed the relationship that we could have had and the friendship that we did have. It took us I a long time to get our friendship back, but when we finally did we promised each other not to let each other slip away so easily again. That's is it. That's all you need to know," she finished. "Do I still love him? Do I still harbor feelings for him? The answer is a definitive no."
Dean held up his hands. "Wait, wait. Back up a second. You were in love with him?"
"Yes, I was," she admitted. There was no use lying about it. It was what it was. She was in love with Lucas at one point in her life. But the Lucas that she loved and the Lucas that he became that year were two totally different people. He was becoming that Lucas that she loved again, but her love for him was strictly on a friends only level.
Dean wasn't that easily swayed. "How do you know you still aren't?"
"Because Lucas became someone that I hardly recognized. He became the guy that Nathan was while I was with him and I didn't want to go down that road with another guy."
"So then Lucas was the guy that broke your heart?"
"He was one of many, Dean. He was one of many," she told him with a deep sigh. "What were you expecting when you burst back in here? Were you expecting me to tell you that I was still in love with Lucas and that I'm using you to make him jealous?"
"I don't know what the hell I was expecting, Peyton. All I know is that when I saw the two of you talking tonight… that damn voice inside my head was telling me that there was something deeper between you two than friendship."
"At a time there was," she conceded. "But I don't think of Lucas in that way anymore." She smiled at him. "I haven't had feelings for Lucas for a long time, Dean."
"Yeah, I believe you…" Dean crossed the room to her. "I just… the last person I'd want to lose you to is Lucas."
"So it wouldn't bother you if I was seeing Skills?"
Dean shook his head. "No, of course not! Fergie, maybe, because you know he's got the nice hair…" he joked.
"Oh, quit it!"
"No, I would be totally jealous. I mean, his hair is nicer than mine."
"You're incorrigible!" Peyton said, pushing past him. The second she did so, something inside her roared to life. Her hand stalled on his chest, the both of them staring at it with wide eyes.
"Peyton…" Her name slipped from his lips barely audible over the sound of her heart thrumming against her chest. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as Dean's hands fell to her hips.
She was barely able to concentrate as her back slammed into the wall, Dean's mouth viciously attacking hers. His kisses were normally not so feral, but considering their previous conversation she could see where the change had stemmed from. His tongue traced her bottom lip, then her top before his tongue nudged them apart, pushing into her mouth to tangle with hers.
A soft whimper escaped her mouth when he pulled away to brush his lips across her jawline, his fingers digging into her satin covered flesh. Not a second later his mouth swept over hers again, his hands sliding down her thighs to slip under her dress.
"This is crazy," Peyton moaned as Dean began splaying kisses down her throat.
"So crazy," Dean agreed, his mind foggy from this sexual haze that she had put him in. He knew that this didn't make any sense. For Pete's sake they were just arguing not five minutes before whether or not she was still in love with another guy! How had they gone from bickering about that to making out against the wall?
He didn't know and he really didn't fucking care.
"We were just arguing…," she continued to object.
"And now we're not," Dean said, dropping kisses along her collarbone. Her whimpers and soft moans were urging him forward, his hands continuing to creep farther up her dress. His fingers traced the hem of her panty before he pushed into the scrap of material.
A loud gasp escaped Peyton's throat as his hand slipped between her thighs. Dean's eyes snapped to hers, but the kiss that she pressed to his forehead told him that stopping was the last thing that she wanted.
So he didn't.
---
Peyton rolled over, her roll impeded by the male body occupying the space beside her. Her knocking into his side pushed him out of his slumber as he groaned, "I'm up. You woke me up."
His arm spread out, welcoming her into his arms. Happy to oblige, Peyton slid into the curve of his arm, resting her head against his warm chest. "I thought you and Haley had a thing this morning."
"We do. Much later."
Dean's eyes snapped open, turning to her. "How much later?" he asked with a mischievous smile, covering Peyton's body with his, her laughter ringing through the room.
---
The cat-that-ate-the-canary grin was hard to ignore. Haley was privy to that smile. She knew what was up. And she wanted the dish. Watching Peyton tap away at the computer, she prodded, "So… how was it? Spill. I want details, girl."
"Am I that transparent?"
"Yes," Haley said, scooting to the edge of the bed. "Details. Spill. Now. Please?"
Peyton turned her chair away from her computer as she recounted the events of the previous night, quickly filling Haley in on her argument with Dean about Lucas and the events that transpired afterward. "It was just… amazing. There weren't candles or rose petals, but even without all those clichéd things, it was still special. Nathan never made it special."
Haley frowned. "Okay, I'll let that part slide."
"I didn't mean it like that. It wasn't special with me and Nathan because we weren't in love."
"So you're saying you're in love with Dean?"
Peyton shook her head. "No. Yes. No! No, I'm not in love with Dean." She frowned. "At least I don't think what I'm feeling is love. I don't know. I mean… it could be."
"It could be, though?"
"Yeah, it could," Peyton agreed, her smile saying otherwise. Deep down she knew that she was already in love with Dean Winchester. But that wasn't something that she wanted to admit in fear of him abandoning her at the end of summer. And as summer slowly drew to a close, so did Dean's remaining days in Tree Hill.
Despite that he was leaving, it couldn't sour her mood so she continued gabbing with Haley about her night with Dean. "We cuddled," she admonished as she sat down beside Haley on the bed.
"You cuddled?"
"Afterwards, we did. And it was… it was nice." Haley held up a finger as she closed her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to picture Dean cuddling," she said, laughing when Peyton slapped her arm playfully. Snapping open her eyes, she told her friend, "It's weird to even contemplate him doing something like that."
"Like what?"
Both girls turned as Dean walked into Peyton's room. "Nothing," Peyton said even as Haley blurted out, "You cuddling."
"You told her?" he snapped at Peyton who just shrugged. "Peyton, you don't go around broadcasting that! I have… I have a reputation, you know."
Haley crossed the room toward Dean pinching his cheeks as she said, "Wooer sekwet's safe wit me, Cuddle bucket."
"Peyton, make her stop!"
---
Dean was bored. Haley had dragged Peyton into town for the day for much needed "girl time" leaving him by himself. He'd gone down to the Rivercourt for a few hours to play basketball with the guys and hadn't been back at Peyton's long. Just his luck that there was nothing on the television, either. Typical Saturday.
He was never so excited to hear the front door open to hear Peyton yell, "I'm home!"
"I'm in the living room."
"Of course! Where else would you be?" she laughed walking into the living room, weighed down with bags.
"What the fuck did you buy?" he asked as she set all her bags down beside him on the sofa.
"Hey, I go back to school in a few weeks. I needed a new wardrobe."
"Yes, because the hip hugger jeans are just so last year," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, shut up," she said, leaning down to kiss him in welcome. "What did you do all day?"
Dean peered into a bag from Victoria's Secret which Peyton immediately pulled away from him. "Nothing, really. I sat right here watching the clock waiting for you to come home." He grinned widely at her, knowing that she would see through the ruse.
"So basketball was fun?" she asked as she began pulling objects out of her bag. He stifled a laugh when she pulled out three pairs of jeans.
"How'd you know?"
"Haley talked to Lucas. He said that he'd been forever banished to the bleachers with Mouth and that you and Skills beat Junk and Fergie?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It was a minor defeat and Lucas was so jealous!" Dean boasted, having taken great pleasure in witnessing his friend's discernment over not being able to play basketball.
"Yes, and I'm sure that you restrained yourself from rubbing it in."
"How dare you even suggest that I…," he began as Peyton looked at him. "Okay, yes. I rubbed it in. How could I not?"
"You are a creature like no other, Dean."
"That's a compliment, right?"
"Take it and run," Peyton laughed, snapping her fingers. "Oh, that reminds me," Peyton told Dean as she rummaged through her shopping bags. "I bought you something."
"You did, what?" he asked, interested.
"It's nothing extravagant or expensive, just something that I found in this vintage shop that Haley dragged me into," she said, extracting a small rectangular white box from one of her bags. "Here." She handed him the box as Dean eyed her curiously.
Dean stared at her skeptically. "It's not like a dead frog or anything, is it?"
Peyton shook her head. "No, it's not. And it's not a knife or any other boy item."
Intrigued, Dean lifted the top and pushed aside the paper, revealing a thick, silver ring inside. "A ring, huh?"
Peyton noted the lackluster response. "It's stupid. I'll take it back," she said, reaching to take the box from him.
"No, no, no," he said, fighting her for the box. "I like it."
"You're just saying that. No you don't. C'mon, Dean, give it back. I'll take it back to the store and buy you… I don't know, tire grease or something."
"No. I like the ring. I've never gotten jewelry from a girl before. The occasional shoe in the head or sexual favor…"
"Stop right there if you want to keep your tongue," she warned.
Laughing, Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down with him onto the sofa. "Thank you."
Peyton sighed, "You're welcome."
She watched as he slipped it onto his right ring finger. "So, I'm just curious about one thing, though…"
"What's that?"
"Does this mean we're engaged?"
Peyton guffawed as she slid away from him, moving toward the kitchen, mumbling to herself.
"What?" Dean asked, chuckling to himself as he bolted off the couch. Quick at her foot heels, he called out, "Come on, Peyton, I was only kidding! You can't give me jewelry and not expect me to make a crack like that!"