Author's Note: Here comes another chapter. Actually this is very important for later parts of the story. And for all you patient people, this is heavy on the B/L side. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Thank you Tej. You're my genius when I need you.

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

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6. The Tide That Came Back

"Time and tide wait for no man."
- Geoffrey Chaucer

Later that night, Lucas stepped out of the gym and deeply inhaled the cool night air.

He looked up at the blue and white banner that hung above the entrance, the black ravens flanking the letters that welcomed him back to his high school. The plastic gently flapped in the breeze. He couldn't believe that it had been ten years. This place was full of memories and tonight they did not seem as distant as usual.

A few hundred meters off he could make out a lone figure. After their dance, she had disappeared and now sat in the courtyard on one of the wooden benches. The same and yet not, Lucas thought. But then a lot of things were.

"This bench taken?"

Brooke smiled. But it was fake and, somehow, it didn't reach her eyes. "There's plenty to go around." She reached for the half empty bottle of champagne next to her and took a sip. "Want some?" She handed the bottle to Lucas and he drank. He tried to figure out if she was already intoxicated but couldn't really tell. "So, where's Peyton?"

It was an emotionless question. He wished he could tear down that damn wall she was holding up, that he could somehow rid her of her ever present aloofness.

"She took off early. Ellie's not feeling too well and she didn't want to leave her with the sitter so long."

Brooke nodded merely. Then her next question took him by surprise. "She is a great mom, isn't she?"

Lucas' face softened and she saw the affection in his eyes. "Yeah."

"I mean you can say a lot about Peyton, god knows, but that I always knew, you know? Especially when I saw her with Jenny. I guess if you had two loving mothers in your life you gotta know what it takes." She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Imagine what a failure I'd have been."

"What are you talking about? Brooke, you're affectionate, you're caring and passionate as hell. You fight for the people you love. I know you'd be an amazing mother."

Like I fought for you?

Something inside her snapped. "You don't really know me anymore, Lucas."

"I'm sorry, I just-"

He looked like a dog baffled by admonition; not knowing what he had done wrong. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"No, it's… it's okay. I don't know you either", she shrugged, "I mean I pursued other goals, I guess. Before I met you I never really thought about settling down. And now my life is very different."

"Tell me about it." Lucas' voice was soft.

"There's not a lot to tell. Well….after graduation I moved to L.A. and worked as a sales rep for Marc Jacobs. I got promoted and I guess on thing led to another and I ended up in Paris doing this internship for Chanel."

How shallow do I sound? Brooke thought.

"Wow, that must have been a dream come true."

Yeah, right. It should have been, Lucas. A two bedroom flat in the Quartier Latin that always felt empty, no matter how much you turned the TV up. The same shallow, fake people day in and day out. The city of love and not a single person to talk to. To really talk to.

Lucas was still looking at her, expectantly. Sure, hearing it like that it sounded great.

She knew she couldn't tell him. About the sleepless nights. About how she didn't really get to work there all that much. About how she had found out that even in the fashion business getting a foot into the door was mostly achieved by ass kissing and making coffee for the people higher up the ladder.

That, or sleeping with them.

She couldn't really tell him that being talented didn't mean anything if you didn't have the recklessness to screw people over to get where you wanted.

That you didn't really mean anything.

A dream come true, indeed.

So instead of a real answer, she shrugged impassively. Then she looked up and saw that he was still waiting for her to say something. "So after that I came back to the states and worked as a personal stylist in L.A. for a while. Trying to keep celebrities from dressing like blind people." She intentionally kept her voice light.

"So have I seen some of your work?"

"Lindsay Lohan's first tasteful appearance at the Golden Globe was my high point." She grinned lopsidedly and he wondered if she was telling the truth.

"Well… I don't exactly read US Weekly."

She looked fake appalled. "Please, I'm more of a Cosmopolitan kind of girl."

He snickered but the weight wouldn't move off his chest.

"So, what happened? You said you used to do that."

Damn you Lucas Scott for being so perceptive.

Lucas watched her freeze again, shielding herself. It didn't quite work that well. Her voice held remorse and bitterness.

"I couldn't do it anymore. This industry is… it's insane. You mean nothing to these people. It's all a big fat lie." Well that and the fact that they fired me.

He couldn't ever imagine a time where Brooke Davis hadn't meant something to someone. And he wondered what she'd done instead to earn her money.

"What about your own stuff?"

"I don't know. I always wanted to do my own line but… lately I've been feeling… maybe it's being back here…" She made a vague gesture towards the gym. "I get kinda sick of it. I feel like I should be doing more with my life, you know?"

She looked at him and then looked down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with her bracelet. For the first time her tone held a resemblance of warmth, of emotion.

"That day, when…when the shooting happened- I promised myself I'd make a difference. And…I had a lot of dreams. I don't know what happened."

"I do. Life happened."

She was surprised by the sadness in his words.

"What about your dreams Lucas? I always thought you'd… study, have an academic career, make world peace…"

"Well having to make a living for your family kinda gets in the way of that."

"So you're…"

"Still running the body shop? Yeah. It… it feels like… like I owe him."

He breathed in deeply and suddenly the taste of salt was heavy on his palate. The wind was blowing in from the sea tonight, stirring up the heavy, humid air. "Besides, I didn't really have that many qualifications. But I knew my way around a car."

After Dan's death, everyone had been surprised to see that the dealership went to both his sons. It had said so in his will but neither one had wanted it, and so Nathan and Lucas had sold the whole thing. 'Liquidating their assets' it had been called but that was actually kind of a joke seeing Dan had actually managed to get the place into debt that about matched its market worth.

Lucas, though, had kept the body shop that had once belonged to his uncle; the only man that had truly been his father. With no college degree or other qualifications and a wife and child to provide for it had been a lifesaver. Over the years it had shown that Lucas had inherited both his mother's stubbornness and her sense for business, turning it into a small, but successful garage.

"I know what you mean. It is like a legacy. You, me, Peyton, the people that are left behind, we have this responsibility to do something with this life." She sighed. "I just wanted to matter. To someone out there. Guess that didn't work so well."

He looked up, surprised that she got him so well. "Look, I'm not exactly saving lives right and left either. I still got grease under my nails, but it's enough for my family."

"Lucas Scott. Always the hero, huh?" He couldn't help but notice the biting sarcasm in her voice.

"Brooke-"

She cut him off. "What about your dreams?"

He looked at her, his smile strained with sadness. "We don't always get what we want."

"Really? The Lucas Scott I knew was going to do great things, like I don't know… win the Noble Prize for Literature or something!"

"It's the Nobel Prize." He corrected her.

"I know." She was mocking him but for a moment he could see the enthusiastic, chipper young girl again. It made him smile. And then the moment was gone.

Brooke watched Lucas chuckle and grow silent again. They finished the bottle of champagne together and sat side by side, the darkness covering them like an old, comforting blanket. Suddenly a playful smile lit up his face and he grabbed her hand, pulling her up from the bench. She found it was warm and solid and a little sticky from the salt in the air.

"What are you doing, Lucas?" She felt a little dizzy. And a little daring. She most definitely didn't feel as imperturbable anymore. This was bad.

"Come on, let me show you something."

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t.b.c.

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