AN: Thank you for the reviews. I'm changing the rating to 'M'. Just another chapter and an epilogue after this one. I don't own anything related to OTH.

Chapter 17

Brooke arrives a couple of minutes after her appointed time. A non-descript meeting room inside a large federal building in downtown Atlanta. Inside, a long table and a dozen chairs. Three federal employees in cheap suits, two younger ones and an older one. To one side, her mother, well put-together in a pale yellow Chanel suit, white Blahniks and a fancy new Spade purse, looking like she aged ten years in months. A glare of deep hatred in Brooke's direction. A vaguely familiar white-haired attorney in a very nice Valentino suit sitting next to her.

Brooke herself is wearing a dark blue pencil skirt and a white blouse, nice shoes and has her hair painted in her natural dark chestnut. Her utter rejection of the people in the room and everything it represents is secretly expressed in a softly vibrating anal plug, placed right after she had her hair tinted. A serious black female attorney accompanies her, carrying a large briefcase.

As Brooke is sitting down in front of a small microphone, the older fed clears his throat. "We apologize for the inconvenience Ms. Davis, but your deposition will no longer be required."

Brooke's attorney replies in a dry tone. "A plea bargain agreement has been reached?"

"Yes."

Brooke can't help smiling a bit. She looks into Victoria's eyes. "The terms?"

The old fed hesitates, but then shrugs. "It's soon to be a matter of public record. Full disclosure of all transactions involving stock of Brooke Davis Holdings and its subsidiaries for the past five years, including movement from overseas accounts. Testimony against her accomplices. A twenty million dollar fine. Five to ten years at a minimum security Federal penitentiary."

She is ruined. Brooke's smile broadens. "Sounds... fair."

An animal sound erupts from Victoria's throat. She screams. "I wish I had aborted you, you hateful little monster..."

Victoria's attorney places a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head and interrupting her tirade. Brooke lets the plug's vibration soothe her. She speaks in a soft tone. "Your friend Dan got the same five years for murdering his brother. Seems a little light, considering?" Brooke approaches her mother and speaks even softer, her velvety low register tone almost a purr. "You think you're so smart..."

She growls. "You little..."

Brooke's voice cut through her mother's like a heated knife through butter. "You're just a greedy, arrogant, incompetent little fool, who chose the wrong enemy."

After several months battling lawsuits, sabotage and intrigue from her thieving mother, Brooke wasted a whole year setting up a complex little trap she knew her mother couldn't avoid. As she finished the dissolution and the sale of the holding's assets, Brooke sent to the feds a nice fat dossier detailing Victoria's shady transactions and fully disclosing her assets, including the hidden stuff. Today Brooke was enjoying the resulting endgame.

Victoria gives an inarticulate scream and Brooke turns around and whispers, as she leaves the room. "Merry Christmas, mother."

With a skip on her step, Brooke returns to her car, to drop the businesswoman's disguise. A trip to the hairdresser, to get back her sexy pink. Then a bit of late Christmas shopping. A little smile keeps dancing around her lips. Game. Set and Match, bitch.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Loud music, loud crowd and loud, tasteless decoration. Lucas doesn't particularly want to be here, but there's a couple of gifts yet to be bought. For his daughter...

Since when he thinks of her as his daughter?

Lucas is a little confused about it. She's only eight years younger than he is. Much too old to be his daughter, isn't she?

Does it matter?

He laughs. He feels like an idiot.

Lucas finds an assistant and asks for the latest Mac notebook. He smiles when he sees the model in pink and frowns at the price tag. Still, with the advance on his new novel, he is not really hurting for cash. Not by a long shot.

With the bag in his hand, he casts about looking for inspiration. His sex toy, she says.

Just thinking of her is arousing.

He shakes his head. Brooke is so much more than sexy...

A bright, strong, caring, vibrant woman. Beyond beautiful, sure, but many women are.

She looked so tired, so broken when she came back to his life, three and something months ago.

Like a discharged vet, coming back from over yonder.

Her nightmares seem to be gone. She looks strong, healthy and happy. The ghosts behind her eyes appear... muted.

But they are not gone.

She is still saying she's his sex toy. The sum total of her life's ambition, now.

Lucas knows better. He knows her. She's changed the world, and she will do it again.

Not that he minds the sex toy thing... His eyes unfocus and he smiles at the thought. A pretty blonde with an infant in her arms meets his eyes and smiles back. An open invitation. Lucas is startled out of his brooding. He hopes the baby's father is not in the picture. Pity the poor bastard if he is. He checks her out as she passes him, a fine athletic body, more showcased than hidden by the painted on jeans and the tight sweater. Oval face with large luminous blue eyes and a broad, generous mouth. Lucas nearly giggles. Lucky bastard, perhaps. Stupid, if she's shopping for a trade, but lucky. Of course, who knows what lies behind the looks...

Shaking his head, to clear the distraction, Lucas stops in front of a jeweler's glass case. He stares at the pieces on display, still a little distracted. What can he give her? Fancy stuff hardly fits with her earthy present image. Her birthstone is amethyst. A dark topaz to match the color of her eyes... or maybe a pink stone or a red one, just because Lucas always liked Brooke and red. Moving to other glass cases, he looks, dissatisfied with what he sees.

Then he sees it. Hmm... maybe. Price tag in five figures. Too much. He turns to leave but he sees the sign. A storewide sale. He walks in, asks to be shown the piece. Decides to take it. Argues about the price, first with an disagreeable saleswoman, then with the manager. A compromise is reached, still too much, but a more reasonable five figures. Adjustments to be made, a credit card scanned. Given the price, the store will be happy to deliver it straight to his home in a couple of days.

As Lucas leaves the shopping center, his mind goes back to the blonde with the come hither smile. His writer's brain begins to spin a tale around her. A family's rejection. A rough boyfriend who died overseas... It's funny how easy inspiration comes, these days. He imagines Brooke, smiling enticingly at a stranger, and he is surprised by his own angry response at the mere thought. She said she is staying, but he knows well what such promises are worth. He must always be giving her reasons to stay.

Always.

He's been letting things slide, without talking. Cowardly, a little. Happy with just having her at his side. Recognizing she seemed to need a respite, after whatever happened since the attack. Enjoying the best sex of his life. Afraid to question, and too afraid of losing her again.

No more.

She cannot be just a sex toy, no matter how amazing she is at it. She'll get bored. And then she will leave. He thinks about it. Sam is spending a few days away after Christmas, riding with Taylor and her gang. He will talk with her then.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Christmas eve dinner is at Deb's. An elegant two-story brick house in a large wooded lot. Too big for a single woman. With his modest lifestyle, Lucas knows he will never really understand the wealthy. Even if he becomes one. Still, it's a nice place for an extended family dinner.

Lucas and Nathan were standing to one side of the large living room, sipping beer, and other male guests join them. Their grandfather Royal, Deb's brother Coop, Clay and Larry Sawyer. Across the room, a gaggle of women. Three James sisters, with Haley's baby bump just beginning to show. Nora, who looks like a regular blimp, a worried Peyton at her side. May, Sam, trying to look grown up, and Brooke.

Nathan and Lucas are both staring at Brooke. She is very animated, talking fast, laughing and gesticulating. Nathan finally asks. "What's gotten into her?"

Lucas gives his bother a sideways glance and smirks. Coop laughs and the others look puzzled. Nathan gives Lucas a friendly shove. "Straight to the gutter, bro?"

Lucas grins. "Hey!" And the others laugh, getting it.

Nathan continues. "You know what I mean."

"I don't know." Nathan gives him a skeptical look. "Truly! She went out of town for business a week ago, and when she came back, she was like this." He shrugs and his grin widens. "I can't complain."

Again, they laugh. Royal looks at Brooke and clucks. "You're a lucky man, Lucas." He puts a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "You both are."

Nathan replies. "We both know it."

Larry frowns a bit, looking at Brooke. "I've known her since she was a little girl. She was always like that..." A loud cackle and Larry flinches a bit. "Maybe not quite..."

Royal turns to Nathan, frowning. "Brooke... Davis, right? Richard and Victoria's little girl?"

"Right."

"I heard a rumor... that Victoria is going to do time in Club Fed. Tax evasion, or something." His frown deepens. "She should be upset or worried, no?"

Larry answers with a bitter grin. "They were really awful parents, those two. Negligent, I think, not abusive. My late wife truly hated Victoria's guts. She said once she couldn't understand how that wonderful little princess came out of Victoria's dried-up, shriveled womb."

Lucas snorts and nods to himself. That might explain it. Brooke did not tell him what happened in New York, but jail might explain her behavior, depending on how much of a villain Victoria was in Brooke's story. Lucas has no illusions about parental benevolence. He almost makes a nasty comment about it, but controls himself in time. Dan is a settled issue for him and his brother, but absolutely not for Royal.

Lucas shudders just thinking about how things must have played out for his grandparents. Two sons lost in one moment of evil stupidity.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Brooke woke up lying naked across her bed partner, uncovered, feet cold as ice. No alcohol, no hangover! She smiles and briefly considers doing something nasty to warm her extremities. But it's Christmas. A day for charity and good works. She gets up, careful not to wake him, and pads to the ensuite, for a hot, hot shower.

The blow-drier wakes him. He approaches her from behind, cupping her breasts with his rough hands and kissing a secret little place on her neck. Small electric shocks run up and down her spine and gather at her core. Brooke hums, arching her back. Wet and ready, that's her motto.

"Good morning, Pretty Girl. And Merry Christmas." His voice a Christmas gift on its own.

Her answer is low and dripping with desire. "Merry something to you too, Broody." She turns off the blow-drier, stows it and turns around, kissing him deeply on tiptoes, arms around his neck. He lifts her up, hands on her buttocks, and with a practiced motion, aligns them and slips inside.

She feels light as a little child, as he moves her up and down and small mewls escape her lips. Fullness, pleasure... she wraps her legs around him and rides, and soon a rising tide of warmth fills her, from her toes, up her legs, core and waist, up her torso, her breasts and head, popping up with little fireworks as she calls his name, over and over.

She squeezes him, legs arms and everything else, arching her back like a gentle, slow, pulsating seizure. He wasn't ready for it, but her release quickly brings out his own. He paints her insides as she both pumps him and pushes him deeper.

They stand, kissing deeply as he stays inside her, softening up, holding her. A minute, and then another. She giggles as they break it. Charity, good works and a bit of rutting, she thinks. In a light tone, she says. "Now, that's what I call a good morning fuck." She laughs. "I love a man who really knows what he is doing."

Lucas' heart skips a beat. It's the first time she uses the 'L' word since she came back. He knows she is just talking, but he is not about to let the opportunity escape. He smiles and whispers. "I just love a woman..."

Her brows lift, a tiny crease appearing between her eyes. She thinks back about what she said. Her mood turns serious, dismissing his careful words and her careless ones with a wave of hands. "Breakfast?"

"I'd like to shower first."

"All right." She walks out. "Meet you downstairs."

After the shower, Lucas' stomach rumbles when he smells coffee and eggs. In the kitchen, Sam is cooking breakfast, shoeless, wearing one of his Tar Heels tees and long flannel pants. Brooke is perched on a high stool by the kitchen island, wearing tiny little red shorts, a white tank top and white sneakers. Lucas catches Sam's question and smiles. "Sooo... who's the guy Taylor dragged upstairs last night?"

Brooke giggles. "That's hot uncle Cooper. Deb's little brother. He's into car racing."

Sam makes a disgusted face. "He's old. And preppy."

Brooke answers in a mocking tone. "So?"

"Not her type." Lucas smiles at that.

Brooke asks Sam. "And what would be her type, Hot Stuff?"

Sam sees Lucas arriving, smiles and points silently at him. Brooke snorts. "Merry Christmas, oh gorgeous ones."

Lucas gets next to Brooke and bends down for a peck on the lips. Brooke is not having it. She grabs his hair and pulls him for a hot, slobbery kiss that has both of them panting.

Sam is plating eggs and toast, while she talks. "You guys are disgusting!" A slight smile tempers the harsh expression.

Brooke replies. "We've been told that before."

Lucas adds. "And we enjoy hearing it."

Sam shakes her head. She likes living with the sticky couple. "Disgusting."

After breakfast, it's gift time. Lucas gives Sam the pink computer, and Sam goes crazy. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She presses the notebook against her chest. "It's perfect."

Pleased with her reaction, Lucas hugs her and replies. "I'm glad you like it, sweetie."

"My turn!" Brooke pushes a blank envelope to Sam. Sam checks it out and her mouth opens unwittingly. "Oh, wow!" She hugs Brooke. "Thank you."

It's a first-class, open dates, round trip ticket to Paris. "I have a couple of friends up there who will be happy to give you a place to sleep and to show you around."

"I've always dreamed of visiting Paris."

Brooke smiles. "You'll like it."

Sam hugs her again. "Thank you, Brooke." She turns to Lucas. "Spring break?"

"I'll request your passport. I think I'll need the court's permission, but you'll be sixteen, so it should be fine." He smiles. "Plenty of time until the break."

"Thanks, you two. You're the best." She picks up a pair of similar packages.

Lucas and Brooke open them. A pair of simple light gray exercise tees. His is written 'Broody' and hers is 'Pretty Girl', both in bright red letters.

Lucas is rather touched by the gifts, both the personal touch and the implicit approval of him and Brooke. It took them all a while to get here. Brooke blinks, moisture gathering in her eyes, also deeply touched. They hug Sam and Brooke breaks the moment of silence. "Thank you. I love it."

"I love it too."

"You guys are welcome." She grabs the computer and the envelope. "If you don't mind, I'm going to play with my new toy." Without waiting for a reply, she races upstairs.

Lucas and Brooke exchange a glance and laugh. "Thank you. The Paris trip is a wonderful idea."

Brooke shrugs, a little embarrassed. "The pink computer is nice too." She begins to put the breakfast dishes in the washer and Lucas joins her, smiling to himself, counting backwards from twenty in his head. She reaches five. "So?"

"So what, Pretty Girl?"

Brooke growls and continues what she was doing. It lasts another minute. "So, what about my gift!"

"Oh, that!" She punches him slightly on the shoulder and he pretends to be hurt. "I do have a gift for you, all right?"

"So where is it?" Lucas points a finger up and she claps in anticipation. The she stops putting dishes away and grabs his hand, pulling him after her.

"Hey! Slow down!"

"Don't give me that, Lucas Scott! I want my gift."

"Do I get one too?"

"Of course you do, silly. Move!"

They get to their bedroom. Brooke takes off her shoes and kneels on the center of the unmade bed, jumping a little and twisting her hands in anticipation. Lucas gets the box out of a drawer and hands it to her. It's nicely wrapped, silver with a red bow, and shaped like a thin hardcover novel with rounded corners. Brooke tears up the paper, and finds a jeweler's box, covered in red velvet, with a fancy logo on top. She turns serious an hesitates to open it. She sounds a little scared. "What have you done, Broody?"

He sits next to her and tucks a little pink lock behind her ear. "Just check it out."

She opens it. It's a set, choker and earrings. White gold, very simple. The earrings are a simple stud, with a small stone, an inch long dangling string and a larger stone at the end. The choker is half an inch wide, with a complicated clasp and a rectangular stone, a bit wider than the metal, and about an inch long. The stones are all honey-colored. Brooke is speechless.

Lucas breaks her trance. "Imperial topaz. And they do match your eyes."

Brooke finds her voice. "Help me put them on."

She walks up to the closet's mirror, removes the little gold studs she uses and puts on the new earrings. Lucas hangs it the choker around her neck, closing the clasp. The stone hangs at the hollow of her throat. Brooke stares at her reflection, hardly breathing. "It's gorgeous, Lucas. Thank you."

"There is another way of using it."

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Let me show you." He unclasps the necklace and then closes it again. Brooke dry swallows. Now, the stone is a bit further up, making a circle against her throat. It's a little tight, like a gentle choking hold. It feels a little constricting, and definitely arousing. Brooke stares at her image at the mirror, eyes wide.

"What do you think?"

"A slave collar?"

Lucas caresses her neck, making her shudder. "Maybe." He smiles. "If you want it to be."

She turns around and kisses him deeply, enjoying the feel of her gift around her neck. "Thank you. I love it."

Lucas looks at her, pleased and thoughtful. "You're welcome."

There's a moment of silence, where Brooke frowns a bit. "Broody..."

"What?"

"I don't mind being your slave. Not at all, actually."

"I think you've made that clear."

"But... I thought you didn't want that." She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. "You've been... uncomfortable."

Lucas smiles. "I'll be whatever you need me to be, Pretty Girl." He touches the stone at her throat lightly. "That's what this really means."

"You mean, like a signal?"

He nods. "If you use it like that, it means that I'm in charge." He smiles, a little naughtily. "Completely."

"Oh..." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by her reaction. She thinks for a bit, and then giggles. "It sounds perfect, actually."

She coils up to kiss him again, but he leans away and points at the collar. "I'm in charge, remember?"

She kneels neatly, eyes down and hands on her lap. The perfect submissive. "You will, Sir?"

Lucas laughs. "You're perfect, Pretty Girl."

She raises her head and an eyebrow, giving him a slight sneer. She doesn't say it, but Lucas knows exactly what she is thinking. 'Of course I'm perfect!'

She waits patiently, and he waits, testing her resolve. A couple of minutes later he relents. "I'd like my gift now."

She gets up and goes into the closet, coming back with two packages. Lucas opens them. One is an inflatable kids pool. Six feet wide, according to the box. The second is a gallon jug of baby oil.

Lucas stares at the gift, his fertile mind providing image after delicious image... he looks up, and Brooke is back at her kneeling position, head raised, eyes bright and a small evil smile.

"You're a genius, Pretty Girl."

"You know it, Sir."