Author's note: Again, thank you so much for all your reviews. It means a lot and inspires me to keep the chapters coming. This chapter was a bit more difficult, and in turn, much longer than the previous ones, so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks!

"So do you get to hold a gun all the time?"

Dean awkwardly adjusted his nephew's hand in his own as they crossed the street towards the elementary school. He had no clue what he was thinking when he told Haley he could take Jamie to school on his way to work. Maybe it was the fact that she'd seemed so desperate for a helping hand. She insisted that he bond with her son, and in the end, he couldn't turn his baby sister down.

"When I'm on the clock, I do," he answered honestly.

"Do you have to wear the cop uniform, too?" the kid asked eagerly.

Dean smirked and shook his head. "Nope. That I don't have to wear." And thank goodness for that. He'd despised the uncomfortably, hot black suit he'd been forced to wear years ago as a rookie cop. Life as a detective for the police department was harder, nonetheless, but he'd gladly endure the long hours than wear that monkey suit day in and day out.

"So, why did you come back here?"

He looked down at his nephew and glowered. "Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?"

Jamie smiled innocently and nodded his head. "All the time. Anyone ever tell you I keep asking until I get an answer?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected question. He didn't know which side the kid got his spunkiness from, but it was definitely adorable coming from someone so young. He shook his head and chose to answer the previous question rather than the last. "When I was a baby, my parents decided that they were better off as friends than they were as husband and wife."

Of course, that was a lie, but the kid was five. Somehow, he didn't think Jamie would understand it if Dean told him his parents couldn't stand the sight of one another after being married for just half a year.

"That's sad," Jamie said as solemnly as a five year old could.

"Yeah, it sucked but that's life, right?" he shrugged the comment off. "Anyway, my mother met your Grandpa Jimmy, and they fell in love and got married. My parents decided that I would live with my father and during the summer, I would come home to Tree Hill to live with Grandma Lydia, your aunts and your mother."

"So, you had two homes?"

The corners of his mouth shrugged along with his shoulders as he bobbed his head up and down. "Yeah, but my home was always where my family was. That was one thing that never changed over the years. Anyway," he continued, "to make a long story short, my father died right before my eighteenth birthday, and when I went to go live with Grandma Lydia, we sorta got into a fight."

"What was the fight about?" Jamie inquired even though they were at the footsteps of the school's entrance.

Dean crouched down to his level and answered, "Grown-up stuff. It's nothing you need to know really. We disagreed on a couple of things, and I went to join the police academy in New York."

Jamie frowned at the story being told. "So, then you were all by yourself in New York? With no family?"

Dean shook his head and smiled at the kid, regardless of the shadow that dimmed the light in his eyes. "Not exactly. My best friend from Charlotte came with me, and we became cops together."

"What's his name?"

The smile slowly disappeared from his facial features as an image of his best friend flashed through his mind. "Sam," he said quietly. "His name was Sam Montgomery."

Jamie smiled unaware of the sadness that loomed over his uncle. "I'm glad you had your friend Sam there with you. Family is where your home is, and I'm happy you found a home away from the people who love you."

Having said his peace, he leaned over and gave his uncle a mini hug before sprinting towards his classroom. "I'll see you later, Uncle Dean!" he yelled over his shoulder before disappearing behind a door.

Dean jerkily nodded his head even though his nephew was long gone.

"It's such a beautiful day," Brooke couldn't help but remark as the breeze from the water blew her hair from her face.

Nathan agreed to take her to her last appointment with Dr. Copeland. The young doctor proudly gave Brooke a clean bill of health and commended her for following his instructions on taking it easy. He even rewarded her with a cherry lollipop that brought an adolescent smile to her face.

A celebration was in order, and Brooke offered to take Nathan out to lunch. It was her own special way of thanking him for being such a good friend and for the hospitality he showed her while recuperating at his house. Dean was off following a lead on her case, and Peyton was going over various demo tapes she'd neglected to listen to over the weekend. Both Haley and Lucas were tied up at Tree Hill High seeing as it was early afternoon on a school day. So the two childhood friends took it upon themselves to enjoy the company of one another and catch up on old times.

When Nathan had yet to say anything in response to her earlier comment, she brought her full attention towards her friend and sighed. "Still not talking to me?"

The man in question grunted and pretended to study the menu before him. They were at The Creek Water Café down by the river, which was unusually busy for a Tuesday afternoon. Back in high school, the gang often came down to Creek Water to switch things up from eating at Karen's Café. The two had already ordered their meals, so the fact that Nathan perused the menu spoke volumes.

"Come on, Nate. I said I was sorry. I'll never do it again," Brooke pleaded.

He removed his eyes from the menu only to frown at her momentarily. "You know better, Brooke," he reprimanded. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place."

She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know and I'm sorry," she apologized for the third time that morning. She gave him her infamous puppy eyes that always won him over when they were younger.

He glared at their presence and scoffed annoyingly. "Don't even try that, Davis," Nathan warned her. "I've got a five year old son that can't even get away with that."

Brooke groaned and threw her hands up in the air. "Well, what am I supposed to do? I'm already buying you lunch, I apologized a gazillion times—what do you want from me?"

He lazily tapped a finger against the tip of his chin while he thought the question over. He ignored Brooke's huffs of impatience and continued to think of a fair punishment to his friend's wrongdoings. As if a light bulb flashed in his head, his eyes widened as he snapped his fingers together. "I've got it. You can take Jamie to see High School Musical 3."

Brooke's jaw became slack as she stared at her friend with wide eyes. "You wouldn't."

He smirked in response. "I think I just did."

"Nathan! That's not fair! I can't stand that trilogy, and you know it!" she yelled.

"Yeah, well neither can I. Haley begged me to take him cos she had to sit through High School Musical on Ice when it came to Tree Hill, so I said I would." The smirk on Nathan's face grew into a cheesy grin as he eyed the brunette before him. "Now, I don't have to."

"Ugh," she groaned in distaste. "You suck."

Nathan shrugged. "Next time I tell you not to let my kid watch soap operas, you should try listening."

She stuck out her tongue at him, and her spirits lifted when he laughed at her immaturity. "Well, at least you're talking to me again."

"Mmm," he commented as he put his menu down. "Remember that when Zac Effron comes on the big screen singing about the damn time," he laughed.

She cringed at the thought before a picture of the kid actor flashed through her mind. "You know, the guy is pretty dreamy for an underage adolescent."

Nathan's faced drew together in mild disgust. "Okay, pedophile. Maybe I shouldn't let you take Jamie after all," he joked. He ducked just in time to miss the crumpled napkin Brooke threw his way, shaking his head at her childishness. "Relax, I was just kidding."

"Yeah, yeah whatever," she said with a shake of her head. "How is my godson doing, anyway?"

Nathan smiled at the mention of his favorite little man. "He's good. Haley and I enrolled him into basketball camp earlier this week, and so far, he loves it."

Brooke nodded her head in recognition. "Yeah, she told me about it the day of the big breakfast. Sounds like fun. I bet he's making all sorts of friends."

"Yeah, he actually came into the league with a friend from class, Robby Andrews. Smart kid, really good on the court, too," Nathan said. "Pretty sad story though. His father died two years ago when he was on deployment in Iraq, so it's just been him and his mom, Jae."

Brooke's face crumpled in sadness at the story. "That's awful. Poor thing, I couldn't imagine going through that."

"You're telling me," he reciprocated the feeling. "She's a strong woman, I'll tell you that. She loses her husband and has to play both mother and father to her five-year-old son? That's gotta be tough." He shakes his head as thoughts of a life without Haley enter his mind. "I don't think I could do it."

"Well, you never know what you're capable of until you're forced to face the unthinkable, you know?" Brooke told him. "Maybe you should invite her over to the house for dinner. She seems like a cool girl, and Jamie can have someone to hang with while the adults… do adult things."

Nathan thought the idea over and nodded his head in agreement. "That's a great idea, Brooke."

She shrugged and gave one of her tantalizing, signature smiles. "Yeah, I've been known to come up with a few every now and then. What can I say?"

His eyes narrowed as another realization dawned upon him. "And now, I've figured out why Jamie's been acting so self-centered lately." He gave her a pointed look.

"Excuse me, I am not responsible for that!" she quickly defended herself.

"I'm didn't say you teach him that stuff, Brooke. You just have to watch what you say around him. He's young, impressionable and quick to mimic everything you do—especially if he looks up to you," he told her. "Tone down the B. Davis whenever you're around my son."

"Man, this celebration lunch is turning into a serious downer," she muttered, sinking lower into her chair. "Who would've thought I'd suck at being a godmother, too?"

"Shut the hole in your face," Nathan said unapologetically. "Your woe is me song and dance doesn't work on me either." He moved his head to the right and just missed the piece of bread she'd attempted to hit him with. "Real mature."

"I've decided that I don't like you right now," Brooke said perkily.

"I'm sure you'll get over it soon."

Brooke sat back and shook her head at his attitude. "Oh, and you think I'm the one that taught your son to be so vain." She chuckled when he glared back at her with no retaliation. "Take a good look in the mirror, Scott. He spends more time with you than he does with me."

"Whatever, man," he dismissed the argument completely. "Let's change the subject before this celebration turns into a brawl."

"Fine by me," she replied merrily.

"So, are you or are you not into Haley's brother?"

Brooke was in the process of taking a sip of water and managed to miss spraying it towards Nathan when he spoke. He snickered and grabbed a napkin to clear the watermarks she'd left on the table. "That answers my question."

"And what would possess you to even ask me something like that?" she demanded.

Nathan rolled his eyes and put the damp napkin on another table. "Please, Brooke. I've known you since we were kids. I know how you operate, and I know that look you get in your eye when you're interested in someone. Don't sit there and tell me you're not hot for my brother-in-law."

Brooke hated the way her friends were able to see right through her façade. Here, she thought she'd done a perfect job at guarding her feelings for Detective Dean. Then again, she'd be stupid to think that her friends wouldn't figure out what was going on inside her mind. "Well, have you seen the guy? Who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to him?" When Nathan opened his mouth to speak, she put up a finger to his protest and added, "Present company excluded, of course."

He nodded his head firmly and sat back in his chair once more. "So then, what's the problem?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you two go on a date or something? Get to know each other better. Hell, you live under the same roof. I'm surprised you two haven't slept together, yet," he remarked obliviously.

Brooke's face fell instantly, and this time, she refused to try and hide it. "Nice, Nathan," she managed to say in a low voice.

"Brooke, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. He reached across the table to place his hand over his. "That was an asshole thing to say, and I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she shrugged his hand away. "It's kind of hard to shake the image of being a town whore once the label's glued to the clothing line."

He didn't say anything in fear of adding insult to injury. Everyone knew the Scott brothers were notorious for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, so Nathan wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. When Brooke finally glanced over at him, he wordlessly pleaded for forgiveness through his eyes. In a quiet voice, he apologized again. "I'm sorry."

A corner of her mouth picked up, and he knew he was in the clear. "I'll forgive you if and only if you take Jamie to see High School Musical."

Nathan groaned incredulously and slumped further into his chair, his elbows just touching the base of his seat. "How did I not see that coming?"

Brooke's bright smile with matching dimples came back into place as she shrugged innocently. "Seems fair to me. Call me a whore, and off to the movies you go."

"You know that I didn't mean for it to come out that way," he pleaded genuinely, raising himself up to sit properly.

She shook off the comment with a turn of her head. "It's okay, really."

Once he was sure her feelings weren't hurt, Nathan continued on with the previous conversation. "But I still want to talk about what's going on between you and Dean."

"There's nothing going on between us," she repeated for the umpteenth time. Why wasn't anyone hearing her? "What is with you guys? First, Jamie wants to play matchmaker. Then, Peyton's making goo-goo eyes at us both—and don't get me started on Lucas."

The mention of his brother's name coming from her lips piqued his interest. "What'd Luke have to say about it?"

Brooke rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to answer when their server came over with their lunch orders. May, as her nametag stated, placed her barbecue chicken sandwich with coleslaw, then proceeded to place Nathan's double bacon cheeseburger with fries on his side of the table. She laughed at the way his eyes lit up and he grinned in satisfaction before popping a fry between his teeth. "Heaven," he breathed as his eyes rolled back in fulfillment.

Brooke smiled and took a generous bite of her sandwich. "Tell me about it."

"Oh, and don't think you can sidetrack me with food talk," he told her around a mouthful of meat. "What did Luke have to say about you and Dean?"

She rolled her eyes and chose to finish the food in her mouth before speaking. "He made some comment about how Dean would be the one to save me," she complained as she stacked her coleslaw onto her fork.

Nathan remained quiet as he grabbed the bottle of ketchup and doused an empty part of his plate with the condiment. "I wonder why he felt the need to comment at all," he attempted to sound nonchalant.

Brooke chewed around the cabbage in her mouth and took a sip of water to clean her mouth after swallowing her food. "If you have something to say, why don't you just say it?"

He considered this question while taking another bite from the burger. Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott had always been stubborn and infuriating in Nathan's eyes. His older brother never could choose between the two best friends, and the woman sitting before him never allowed herself to love anyone as completely and fully as she had with Luke. There was a wide span of emotional history between them that had yet to be figured out even now, seven years later. Nathan had a feeling that Luke was still second guessing building a life with Peyton, and something told him Brooke's inability to fall in love again had everything to do with her hardest heartbreak.

"I just want you happy. That's all," Nathan spoke up after a moment of silence.

She gave him an appreciatively and tilted her head to the side. "And what makes you think that I'm not?"

With a sober expression, he answered just as quickly. "What makes you think you are?"

"I can't believe you proposed over the phone."

Lucas made notes for this week's game on his yellow notepad before looking up to glare at his best friend. "Just because I'm a writer doesn't mean I have to do everything romantic, you know."

Haley rolled her eyes and dipped her disposable spoon into the plastic container of her yogurt. "Yes, it does," she told him. "You're talking to an English teacher here. I would know." Her hazel eyes popped open as she leaned forward from the seat before his desk, placing the yogurt on the table. "Speaking of which, you won't believe what one of my students suggested for her reading assignment."

When he gave her a puzzled, yet uninterested look, she slapped a hand on her desk and told him. "The Unkindness of Ravens."

Luke laughed at that and crossed a foot over the opposite knee. His hand moved over his lips as he smiled at the annoyed expression on her face. "What? My book isn't good enough for your eleventh grade book list?"

"Lucas! It's not about that!" she retorted. "My students are supposed to take me seriously. I want them to respect me, and I'm sure I'll lose that once they find out I got married when I was their age only to have a baby on the day of our graduation."

He shook his head and spread the fingers of his hand out in confusion. "I don't know why you're so worried. It's not like the whole town doesn't know your history, Haley James Scott."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Haley retrieved her abandoned treat and leaned back into her seat as she swirled the yogurt onto the spoon. "Still," she whined. "Couldn't you have changed our names in your book? I'd rather not have my life story in print for everyone to read."

"And why not?" Luke scribbled out the entire play he'd just worked on, having remembered his defense wasn't strong enough to pull it off. "You should be proud of the person you were five years ago. Look at how far you've come, Hales. Both you and Nathan."

"Yeah," she agreed with a small nod of her head. Her focus remained on the creamy concoction as the spoon continued to scrape the sides of the cup.

"Hales?" her best friend asked when he recognized her behavior.

"Hmm?" The question woke her from her thoughts as she turned blurry eyes towards the basketball coach.

"Do you want to talk about whatever it is that's distracting you from interrupting my lunch break?"

Haley began to shake her head but then thought better of it. If there were anyone in Tree Hill who would understand how she was feeling, it would be Luke. "I'm just worried about Dean." Though she confided in her husband and girlfriends about any and everything, Haley couldn't trust their judgment on her estranged brother because they didn't really know him. Just as Dean was her big brother, his relationship with Lucas was identical. "I know that he came back here for a reason. He just doesn't want to talk about it, and… I'm just concerned."

Luke nodded his head and allowed her to speak her mind. Dean's unexpected arrival back into Tree Hill was too sudden to garner any type of reaction from either person. He'd walked back into their lives when he was assigned Brooke's case. There was no time for a proper "welcome home" conversation, and neither person had time to sit the man down to talk about everything they'd missed out on over the past eight years. Obviously, there were a lot of questions that Haley felt she needed answers to. "Has he said anything at all?"

She shook her head no. "He keeps saying that he needed to be home." She Luke a look and said, "and you know better than anyone what he means by that."

Lucas dipped his head in acknowledgment and leaned his chin on his chest. Family. It was the one thing Dean had learned to value, coming from a broken home. He loved both his parents dearly and treated his sisters as if they were his full blood. Then as if a flip had been switched, the Winchester boy had walked away from the one solid foundation he had left in his life to make something of himself in New York City. Lydia never spoke of the falling out she'd had with her only son and soon after made the decision to live on the road with Haley's father. "I'm just surprised he didn't do a better job at keeping touch over the years."

"At first, I would've said the same thing," she somewhat agreed. "But so much time has passed that now, I can't get used to the idea of him being here. It's so surreal, you know?"

"Have you talked to your mom or your sisters? Do they know he's here?"

Haley's head moved up and down as she finally discarded of the lukewarm yogurt. "I called my mom as soon as I found out, and she didn't sound surprised. If anything, she seemed relieved that he'd finally come to see me. Quinn, of course, couldn't care less about Dean's return and Vivian just said to keep her updated if anything interesting happened," she reported, disgusted by the lack of emotion from both her older sisters.

"And Taylor?" Luke asked, almost dreading the answer.

"I haven't been able to get a hold of that girl in months," Haley closed her eyes at the admission. There was no doubt that Taylor James was the most difficult out of the girls. She came and went as she pleased, never once taking into consideration that her family would be worried for her well being. "I'm telling you, Luke. I'm about ready to give up on that girl."

"Nah, you'd never do that," Luke disagreed. His face wore a slight grin as he regarded his best friend. "She's your family. You've never been able to turn your back on your family."

"Yeah, and I haven't figured out whether or not it's a blessing or a curse," she threw him a sarcastic smile. "There's something going on with him," Haley said, bringing the conversation back to Dean. "He's very distant and sometimes, even cold with me. Even when he'd had that big fight with my mother, Dean's never been this… odd."

"Did he have anyone there for him in New York? Maybe he's running away from a girl," Luke said with raised eyebrows. "No one knows better than I do about how well that works."

Haley laughed and took the inquiry into consideration. "He's never mentioned anything about a girl. I know that he joined the department with his best friend from Charlotte." Her eyebrows furrowed together as a memory struck her. "You remember Sammy Montgomery, don't you? Dean brought him along a couple of times when he'd stay with us?"

An image of a scrawny, tall boy came into his mind and he nodded his head. "Vaguely," he replied.

"Dean and Sam have been friends for as long as you and I have. They're just as close, too," she informed him. A distant smile formed on her lips as her focus became hazy. "I used to have the biggest crush on him."

Surprised melted onto her friend's features as he sat up at the declaration. "I never knew that."

"Of course, you didn't. Just because you were my best friend didn't mean I had to tell you—a boy—about my grade school crush on your hero's best friend." She smiled at the frown on his face.

"Dean was not my hero," he protested.

"Maybe not," she agreed. "But you sure did idolize him when we were kids." Haley tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and ducked her head down, letting the memories from their childhood wash over her. "A part of me wasn't sure if you'd be friends with me had Dean not been in my life."

"Tell me you're joking," Lucas reprimanded her. He didn't wait for a response. "Haley James Scott, you know better than that."

"I know, I know," she agreed. "But you've gotta admit it; when we were kids, Dean wasn't only my big brother. He was yours, too."

Luke considered the comment, his mind taking him back to a time before Nathan, Brooke and Peyton had entered his life. Dean Winchester was indeed the one person he admired aside from his Uncle Keith. The older kid exuded confidence at such an early age, a trait that Luke hoped to master once he hit high school. The two often bonded most when they were on the court. Dean perfected Luke's jump shot and taught the younger boy all the hot spots on the asphalt court. Together, they played nonstop until his game became good enough to rival the skills of his mentor. Unfortunately, the two boys never had the chance to play a serious game of ball once Dean decided to leave Tree Hill for good.

Since they weren't family, it was only fair for Lucas to focus on the pain Haley endured during his absence. Neither friend spoke of the loss he'd suffered from as well. Sure, Dean may not have been his brother by blood, but to him, they were family in every other way that mattered. But at that time, Haley didn't need him to mourn along with the loss of her number one protector; she needed Luke to help her through it, and because he was her best friend, he put aside his feelings of loss and did as she asked.

Luke shook his head and brought his thoughts back to the present. "I can't believe it's been eight years."

"You're telling me," Haley said under her breath. "I wonder what he's been doing since he's been gone."

"Aunt Brooke!"

Brooke smiled and hunched down to greet the boy that came running towards her. She smiled when Jamie launched himself into her arms, the impact almost forcing them down to the grass in front of his school. Her ribs ached from the strength of his embrace, but she was quick to school her reaction from the pain. "Something tells me you're excited to see me," she smiled.

"Uh huh," Jamie nodded his head vigorously. "I thought Daddy was gonna pick me up?"

"He was, sweetie, but I offered to come get you cos we're all having dinner at my house tonight."

His eyes glistened as the grip he had on her arms tightened. "So does that mean I get to stay at your house until dinner?" he asked excitedly.

"Only if you want to," she spoke coyly, ruffling the hair on his head.

"Yes!" Jamie exclaimed, pumping his fist to his side in delight. Behind her shoulder, he caught a glimpse of his friend from basketball camp. "Robby!" he called out to him, waving his arm frenetically in the air.

Brooke gingerly stood up and turned around to see a boy the same age as Jamie making his way towards them. Though he held on to his mother's hand, it was clear the kid was dragging the poor woman across the lawn to meet up with his friend. "Who's Robby?"

"A kid from my basketball team," Jamie answered, coming in front of Brooke to say hi to his friend.

"Well, at least this time you didn't run off," Jae said to her son. She raised her eyes to Brooke, an excited smile appearing on her painted lips. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jae Andrews, and this is my rude son, Robby."

The kid turned to frown at his mother. "Hey! I'm not rude," he objected.

"Really?" she asked, cocking her brow towards her hairline. "Then, where are your manners?"

Robby sighed in defeat and turned to look at Jamie's godmother, a pasty smiled plastered on his face. "Hello, maam. My name is Robert Andrews. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, his voice oozing with sweetness.

Jae rolled her eyes at her son while laughing at the complexity of his nature. "Smart-aleck."

"No, mom. My name is Robert. Not Alec," he beamed.

Jamie shook his head at his friend and offered his own advice. "You should really stop talking now, before you get in trouble."

"Nah," Robby shrugged it off. He batted his eyes at his mother and said, "My mom loves me too much to punish me."

Brooke couldn't help herself from giggling at the adorable kid. "Looks like you found someone just like you, huh Jamie?" she nudged her godson. She turned her attention to the woman before her and introduced herself. "Brooke Davis," she held her hand out and shook the young mother's.

"I know," Jae grinned back. "I'm a huge fan of your clothing line." She turned around to show Brooke the C/B label on the back of her jeans. "Never in my life have a pair of pants made my behind look this good."

"Gross, mom," Robby said quietly, his eyes squinting as she showed off her backside.

"Aw, come on kid. You shouldn't be ashamed," Brooke chuckled, defending his mom. "Your mother is young and beautiful. You should be proud to show her off."

"See?" Jae elbowed her son on the shoulder. "Told you I was cool," she mockingly told her boy in a motherly tone. Brooke's laughter brought her eyes back to the fashionista. Confusion overtook the soft features of her face as she pointed a finger between woman and child. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you two…"

"He's my godson," Brooke answered. "Nathan and I are childhood friends, and Haley and I have been close since high school when they started dating."

"Aaah," she nodded her head in understanding. "And people say it's impossible to meet your soul mate in high school, right?"

"Isn't that where you met Daddy, mom?" Robby asked his mother shyly.

Without hesitation, Jae dipped her head in acknowledgment. Reverie swam in her deep brown eyes, and Brooke guessed she was remembering the time she'd met her late husband. "Yeah, sweetie. That's when your dad and I met." Her eyes caught Brooke studying her, and she felt the need to further explain. "My husband and I met our freshman year. He was a basketball player, and I was your average plain Jane."

Brooke smiled and slightly shook her head, the ends of her short brown hair brushing her chin. "Sounds familiar," she said before looking towards Jamie. "Nathan told me about your husband," she said to Jae sympathetically. She neglected to offer condolences. It seemed inappropriate after so much time had passed. "I can't imagine what that must've been like for the both of you."

A tight smirk pulled at the corners of Jae's lips before she shrugged, placing her hands on top of Robby's shoulders. "It's true what they say; It gets a little easier with each day that passes."

Brooke nodded her head, acknowledging the widow's response. She changed the direction of the conversation when her bright idea from this afternoon popped into her mind. "Hey, if you're not busy tonight, why don't you and Robby join us for dinner at my house?" She continued speaking when Jae opened her mouth to speak. "Before you say anything, you wouldn't be imposing at all. It's just dinner with Haley, Nathan and a couple of friends. We'd love to have you."

Jae placed a hand on her chest and sighed sadly. "As amazing as that sounds, we actually have plans to have dinner at Robby's grandma's house." Regret shone through her brown eyes as she continued to explain. "My late husband's mother likes to have us over once a week. It helps all of us to be surrounded by one another."

"Of course," Brooke understood. "We'll just have to do it another night, then. The offer still stands."

Jae held a finger in the air as she remembered her plans for the upcoming weekend. "You know, I have a better idea. It's Robby's birthday on Saturday, and we're having a party at the park down by the river. I've already invited the Scotts, but you and your friends are more than welcome to come, too."

"Yeah! That's a brilliant idea, Mrs. Andrews!" Jamie agreed eagerly. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked up towards his godmother. "Will you come, Aunt Brooke?"

She was flabbergasted at first, but Brooke threw her hands up in the air and bent down closer to the boy. "Sure! Of course, I'll come," she mimicked his excitement.

"Will you come with Uncle Dean?"

Brooke was certainly speechless now, as shock altered the smile on her face. "…Well, if Uncle Dean wants to go, I'm sure he'll come along," she answered best she could.

Jamie huffed in exasperation. He spoke to his aunt as if she wasn't more than four times his age. "That's not what I asked. I asked if you two could come together."

This time, she didn't bother masking the frown that pulled at the sides of her mouth, stretching her lips into a thin line. "We'll talk about that when we get back to my house, buddy."

"Oooh, I think you're in trouble," Robby singed teasingly to his friend.

From behind him, his mother pressed the tips of her fingers on the back of his head and lightly nudged him forward. "What did I tell you about instigating?" she reprimanded.

"But he is in trouble," Robby defended himself. He looked up at Brooke, hoping she would redeem him from his mother's oncoming reprimanding. "Right?"

Brooke held up her hands in defense and instantly looked away. "Hey, don't look at me kid."

Jae laughed and reached down to hold Robby's smaller hand in her own. "We better get going. We don't want to keep Gramma Jean waiting," she said to her son. She glanced towards Brooke and informed her of the details for this weekend. "The party starts at noon, and the theme is—of course—basketball."

Brooke raised her eyebrows at the statement. "Surprise, surprise," she joked.

"I know, right?" Jae nodded her head in agreement. "Anyway, feel free to wear anything you want. It's not mandatory that everyone be dressed in jerseys or shirts supporting any NBA team. All I ask is that you please not show up wearing anything in relation to either Paul Pierce or the Boston Celtics."

The comment caused Brooke to pause, and she opened her mouth to question the bizarre dress code.

"Please, don't ask," Robby begged. "We could be here for days. She doesn't like the Celtics, and that's all there is to it." Jae shook her head at her son though she couldn't help a grin from emerging.

"Okay," Brooke said, accepting what little explanation she was given. "No Celtics. No Paul Pierce," she smirked. "We'll see you guys on Saturday."

Long after her guests left the house, Brooke found herself in the kitchen washing the remaining dishes. Her motions were calculatingly slow as her hand moved in circles to rid the few plates left in the sink. Behind her, the front door opened, and Dean walked in quietly, tired from a long day of work.

"You're home late," she commented, turning her head to look him over.

Dean was in the process of laying his duffel bag to the side of the door when he heard her. It was like a scene from a movie. Husband comes home to find wife waiting up for him doing housework. The thought surprised him and he shook the idea of having dreams aside. Still, he couldn't deny the fact the feeling was… nice.

He glanced at her before taking note of the time on his wristwatch. "You're up late." He walked over to the kitchen, his eyes scanning the leftover food cooling on the stovetop. "Did you have a party or something?"

Brooke turned off the faucet and grabbed a clean dishrag to dry her hands. "Your sister and her family came over for dinner along with Luke and Peyton."

He picked up a plate of wrapped spaghetti and nodded his head. "I'm sorry I missed it." Dean finally gave her his full attention as he gestured to the dish in his hand. "This for me?"

"Mmhmm," she said plainly. Truth be told, the day was a long one for the young fashion designer. From meeting with Dr. Copeland to lunch with Nathan, picking up Jamie and hosting dinner while babysitting the boy, Brooke had worn herself out. Her sides felt tender to the touch, still throbbing from her earlier interaction with her best friends' son. "I'm sorry you missed it, too. Jamie was looking forward to seeing you."

He instantly took note of the fatigue hidden behind her green eyes before nodding his head at the generosity she displayed. He wanted to thank her for going through the trouble of preparing a meal for him. In fact, Dean wanted to express his gratitude for all the caring things she'd done for him since he'd barged into her life. He said the first thing that came to mind.

"You look terrible."

She fixed him with an angry stare, wrapping the rag tight around her hand. "You're so charming," she uttered disdainfully. "And for that, you can heat up that plate all on your own."

"I wasn't expecting you to do it for me," he told her seriously. Brooke turned away and continued the dishes left in the sink. "I mean it, Brooke. Just because I'm crashing here doesn't mean you have to cater to me."

"Maybe I wasn't doing that. Maybe I just have manners, Dean." She scrubbed at a fingerprint stain on a glass cup vigorously, as much as her body would allow. "A simple thank you would be nice, you know. Why do you always have to be so defensive?"

If the question was meant to be rhetorical, he didn't treat it like one. "Because that's who I am." She paused from attacking another piece of silverware, giving him a glimpse of her profile. He walked towards her and leaned the top portion of his body against the counter. "Tell you what. Why don't you let me finish these for you?" he offered, though the words were difficult to speak. Dean wasn't one to make polite gestures, but he needed to start somewhere.

Her eyes widened at the suggestion, and she did nothing to hide her surprise. "You want to do dishes." It wasn't a question.

"No," he said a little too eagerly, smirking as she rolled her eyes at his reply. "But like I said earlier; you look like you're about to pass out—"

"Funny how quick you are to forget your exact words," she cut in.

He flashed a full smile at her before continuing. "And I'd feel a whole lot better by sending you upstairs to rest. I can finish up down here." She stared up at him, her eyes wide and unguarded as she studied every curve of his face. The 

sincerity in his eyes had her staggered. He shrugged under the scrutiny of her gaze and tilted his head towards his shoulder. "It's the least I can do, right?"

Brooke blinked repeatedly, nodding her head in response. She didn't trust her voice to be steady considering the rapid beat of her heart, so she wordlessly moved out of the way and allowed him to step in front of the sink. Dean undid the buttons on the cuff of his shirt, pushing the material upwards towards his elbows. His movements were solid and yet rapid at the same time. She finally took note of the weariness plastered on his face as he took over the simple task of cleaning up. He'd worked around the clock today, and yet here he was, doing her dishes just so she could get off her feet.

"This would be the part where you march your ass up those stairs and rest," he reminded her, never breaking contact with a plate caked with grease.

"I was actually wondering if there were any updates with my case?" she asked tentatively.

Dean kept his actions in check, suppressing the surprise from her random question. "We've got a couple of leads, but nothing concrete," he answered sternly. He heard her smile as the insides of her mouth brushed against her teeth. He turned to look at her, confirmation sitting upon her smooth lips. "What?"

She shook her head bashfully, whirling her face away from view. The grin she held for him remained on her mouth as she tried shaking it away. "I'm not going to say a word. You're just gonna get upset," she warned him.

He opened his mouth to urge her to continue but quickly shut it once he noticed the gleam in her eyes. "You were making fun of my 'Detective Dean' voice again, weren't you?"

Brooke placed a delicate hand over her chest and giggled. "I can't help it!" she defended herself once he shook his head. "You just get so serious," she mocked him at the end of her statement. On its own accord, her body leaned towards her right side and a sharp pain overtook her senses. She inhaled a quick breath of air and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dean gravitated towards her, placing a soft hand on her forearm as he silently searched her face. "It still hurts?" Her head jerked up and down once as her eyes remained closed. "Didn't you have your final appointment with the doctor today? What'd he say?"

She took deep breaths before answering. "He said everything looked fine and that I'd healed nicely. I don't know why I'm so sore."

Dean eased her towards the barstool by the counter in the middle of the kitchen. Brooke slid onto it with his assistance and braced her hands on the granite top. Only then did she open her eyes, just to find Dean dissecting every grimace evident on her face. "Looks to me like you took it a little too hard today."

"But he said I was fine…"

"Fine, for someone who's been taking it easy for the past week. My guess is that you went around town today, handling your business as if you were never hurt to begin with," Dean speculated.

"And why shouldn't I?" Brooke countered. "When Dr. Copeland tells me that I'm back to normal, I expect there not to be any repercussions when I get a couple of things done." She sighed and attempted to sit straight. "He should've told me I wasn't completely healed."

He crossed his arms over one another and shrugged. "Or maybe you shouldn't have overdone it today." When she fixed him with a lethal glare, a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. He placed a gentle hand on her back. "Do you need me to carry you up the stairs?"

"No," she replied quickly, her eyes shooting to his a little too eagerly. "No, I'm okay, really."

The minute the words slipped from his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. Dean could literally feel it in the way the muscles on her back tensed at the suggestion. It was then when he remembered the reason why gratitude was never an easy emotion to exude. It made people uncomfortable simply because the gesture was completely out of the norm.

With an easy grin, he removed his hand from her back and pulled away from her, both physically and emotionally. "Okay, but that was your one and only chance to get me in your room. Don't say I never offered."

The happiness she felt slowly diminished as the distance between them continued to widen. Anxious to keep him within her reach, she grabbed his wrist and forced him to look at her. "We never got the chance to continue our conversation a couple of days ago."

The mere mention of that morning caught him off guard, and he was positive it showed on his face. Dean thought he'd successfully maneuvered himself away from that talk, but he should've known better. Brooke Davis didn't seem like the type to let things go so easily. So he offered her the infamous Winchester smile and cocked an eyebrow at her suggestively. "The conversation where you admitted you had the hots for me?"

She sighed patiently but kept her gaze locked on him. "Dean…"

"What?" he asked innocently. "That is what you were getting at that morning, wasn't it?"

"No, not exactly," she began. "I mean—come on. Be serious for a moment."

"I'm serious all the time, sweetheart," he drawled.

Brooke held his gaze a moment longer before shaking her head. She rose up from the seat and began making her way towards the stairs as quickly as she could. "You know what, forget it. Good night, Dean."

"Wait."

She stopped dead in her tracks at the gentle command. Her feet remained rooted to the ground, not allowing her to turn around and face him as she knew he wanted. Brooke had no idea why she felt the need to have this talk now. It wasn't like she wanted anything to happen between the two of them. Even as she told herself just that, the echoing timbers of Nathan's deep voice invaded her thoughts. What makes you think you're happy?

And there it was: the elephant in the room that refused to be mentioned between her friends. Brooke waited desperately for someone, anyone to call her out on her current state of mind. She acted out of character, practically screaming in the inside to be heard, yet no one chose to acknowledge her suffering. No one but Nathan Scott. The same boy who'd half-carried her to the nurse's office in the third grade when she scraped her knee during recess. The same guy who threatened to beat up the entire varsity team his sophomore year for even thinking about messing with his friend. The same Nathan Scott who subtly urged her to find happiness with his wife's big brother.

But happiness was hard to accept. Over the years, Brooke was so accustomed to keeping people at arm's length, never allowing them to get too close. Cos once that happened, attachment was soon to follow and the last thing she needed was to be disappointed when said loved one walked out of her life.

But things were different now, right? She was home in Tree Hill to start a new beginning and be rid of the cold-hearted, business minded woman she'd grown into. Brooke wanted to be happy and find love in any way, shape or form. Could Dean possibly be the answer to all her prayers? And more importantly, would she let him be her savior?

"You're right," he said slowly, not wanting to upset her anymore than he already had. "I'm attracted to you," he admitted easily.

She nodded her head and breathed a sigh of relief. "You can be such a dick," her raspy voice told him.

He smirked at her back. "Tell me something I haven't heard."

"Okay," she nodded. Brooke slowly turned to face him and delicately folded her arms over one another. With her walls firmly up in place, she said the only thing she could think of. "Attraction or not, nothing's gonna happen between us."

If he seemed surprised by her declaration, he hid it well. He took a moment to think the idea over then shook his head. "Nope, can't say I've heard that one. You win," he conceded.

"I'm serious, Dean."

The man didn't look fazed. "I never said you weren't."

Brooke took a moment to form the correct words in her head before she allowed them to pass through her lips. "I like you. I think you're a great guy, and I genuinely respect you—"

"Seriously?" he asked unimpressed. "I'm getting the it's not you, it's me speech when all we've been doing is harmless flirting?"

"I just don't want to complicate this, okay?" she ignored his earlier interruption. "I need a friend right now, nothing more."

"And what gave you the impression that I was looking for anything but a place to stay?"

Brooke opened her mouth to speak but closed it just as quick when she found she had nothing to offer. "Then I guess that's settled." She gingerly made her way towards the staircase to retreat to her room. If her ribs were aching before, they were killing her now.

"Wait," he called out to her again. She braced a hand on the rail of the stairs and turned back one last time. Brooke caught him opening the freezer door only to retrieve an ice pack. He walked towards her and reached for her hand, putting the frozen bag in the center of her palm. "Place this on your ribs and go straight to bed," he demanded, not bothering to look at her as the words came out of his mouth.

He walked back towards the kitchen without giving her so much as a glance, the cords of his muscles on his back tense with agitation. Her face became grey with somberness as she made her way up to her room.

They both felt a sense of loss that was too great to describe. Had the door to a relationship been closed indefinitely? Maybe… maybe not. The roadblocks lay between them in flashing colors with hazard signs pointing them in every other direction. The skeletons in their closets were buried too deep to dig.

And when sleep finally managed to greet them that night, they both wondered how long it would take for them to stop running away from happiness.