Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

AN: School has settled down a bit so hopefully I can squeeze in more time to write. *crosses fingers* All kinds of people pop up in this chapter, like my fave person, Skills. Who isn't so street in alterna-verse.

—

04. I've Got You Under My Skin

"Hey, loser."

Lucas was so absorbed in the document he was reading, he hadn't heard the door open. He didn't need to look up to know that his kid sister was loitering in the doorway. "I'm working," he dismissed her, not the least bit surprised when Lily ignored him and advanced into the room.

He set the paper aside, knowing his sister—that she would not leave him in peace until he'd given her his full attention, listened to whatever it was she'd come to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, giving her what she sought.

"Excuses, excuses," she said with a roll of her eyes, climbing into one of the chairs in front of him. Lucas was all work and no play. So unlike Nathan. It was probably the reason the dealership was never put into Nathan's incapable hands.

"Can't you sit in a chair like a normal person? Do you have to swing into it like you're a monkey?"

"Man, don't you have your panties in a notch. Take a pill, dude."

"Don't call me dude," he spat, annoyed. He shook his head, spying the clock on the wall. "What are you doing here? School doesn't let out for another hour."

Studying her nails, she told him, "I blew off gym." Before Lucas could say anything to the contrary, she added, "You can relax, Mom knows I left. Though, she thinks I'm going shopping with Marissa."

"So why aren't you? Shopping with Marissa, I mean."

"I wanted to see you."

Lucas got up from his desk to close the door. "No, you wanted to badger me with questions."

"That, too," Lily said with a sneer.

"So why'd you have to lie to Mom about where you were going?"

Lily heaved a sigh. "Because she didn't want me to come. Yesterday when I found out that you were in town I wanted to drop by the beach house but she expressly forbid it."

"Expressly?"

"Expressly," Lily insisted fervently. "She said that you'd brought someone with you and that I should give the two of you time to settle in."

Lucas dropped into the chair beside his sister, loosening his tie and unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt. "I'll have to thank Mom for doing her best to keep you at bay. Though it wasn't really necessary. I warned Peyton about the lot of you."

"That's her name?"

Eyeing his sister curiously, Lucas asked, "Didn't you wrangle everything out of Mom?"

"Of course. I honestly thought she was kidding when she said the girl's name was Peyton. I can't picture you dating a Peyton."

"What did Mom say?" he pressed.

Lily shrugged, kicking off her flip flops. "Not much. There was only so much she knew. She kept on raving how pretty Peyton was, how cute a couple the two of you made. I wanted to kill myself."

"Aren't you dramatic as ever."

"And you're as stuffy as ever." They shared a smile, then Lily inquired, "So when do I get to meet her? You know it's totally unfair, Luke, that Mom and Dad met her before me. Out of the three us, I'm the one less inclined to judge harshly."

Lucas scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

"What? I'm cake."

"No. No, you're not. You're more like moldy bread," Lucas told her as he stood up from the chair.

Offended, Lily pulled a face, crossing her arms across her chest. "I resent that."

"Whatever, Lilliana." Lucas took a perverted pleasure from the scowl his sister gave him, the breath that she sucked in.

"That's cruel, Lucas, breaking out the full name like that. You know I hate it."

"It's why I do it." While she'd been pregnant with Lily, Karen had gotten hooked on historical romance novels. Her favorite book's heroine was named Lilliana. The name had been bestowed to his little sister when she made her entrance into the world. Having hated Lilliana as much as Lily herself, Dan had started the pet name when she was days old. Now they only called her by her full name when she was in trouble—or when they wanted to aggravate her.

"Have you seen Haley or Skills since you've been back?"

Lucas hadn't seen either of his best friends, which was odd. "I called Haley a few days ago to let her that I was coming into town, but I haven't heard from her."

"What about Nathan? Have you heard from him?" Lucas gave her a look. It was a stupid question to pose, she knew, but she had to ask. She secretly hoped that her brothers would sort out their differences, but she didn't see it happening anytime soon. If ever. Betrayal ran wide and deep. Neither of them would forgive easily—themselves or each other. "Sorry I asked."

"I know you want to see us like we used to be, but I don't think we'll ever be like that again, Lil."

"A girl can hope, can't she?" She loved her brothers equally, even though she was closer to Lucas; Nathan's main focus had always been basketball, basketball, basketball so he'd never had much time to bestow upon her. Standing up, she slipped back into her flip flops. "I guess I'll let you get back to work."

Lucas watched his sister walk toward the door, looking a little defeated. He knew that Lily just wanted to see him and Nathan bury the hatchet. Not wanting to dash her hopes, he called out, "Chin up, Lil. You never know. There might be hope for me and Nathan."

"You think so, Luke?"

He nodded. "I do."

Lily smiled and as annoying as he found her sometimes, it made him cherish her all the more. Before she shut the door behind herself, she told him, "Tell Peyton I said hi."

—

"This is a lot of bubbles," Lucas commented that night, stretching out on the opposite side of the huge bathtub across from Peyton. He had come back from the dealership to find her drawing a bath. She'd been wearing a mere slip of a towel when he'd walked into the bathroom and had dropped it, encouraging him to join her. Never one to pass up such a delightful invitation, he started shucking his clothing and climbed into the water with her.

As he laid back, the water lapping over his tired muscles, Peyton told him plainly, "I like bubbles."

"Candles, too, apparently," he mused, noting the candles strewn about his bathroom, filling the room with the scent of gardenia, a scent that he realized always lingered on Peyton's skin.

"Stop complaining. Bubble baths do not make you less of a man, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not. I was just stating a fact. It's something new I've learned about you since we've come here. You like bubble baths."

"If you wanted to know something about me, all you had to do was ask."

Lucas shook his head. "No, no, that's not true." Peyton started to object, but he cut her off, saying, "Of course it is. I have to observe silently if I want to get to know you."

"As if I'm the only stranger in this relationship. I remember asking you about your last relationship a few days ago and you told me to mind my own business."

"Are we back to that? I told you it was complicated. Besides, it happened before you, it shouldn't matter."

"Our previous relationships matter, Lucas. They're what led us here. They've made us who we are. Every relationship you've ever had has shaped you into the person you are now. I want to know about those relationships whether they're with your parents or your ex-girlfriend from six months ago or the dog you had when you were eight."

He felt compelled to tell her that he never had a dog, but instead he said, "You've never mentioned the guys that came before me. Why's that?"

Peyton glared at Lucas, hating him for broaching this subject. Some things were better left unsaid, but others... She needed to know if his last relationship had left him damaged, if she was beating a dead horse. She wasn't going to pant after him like some besotted like puppy as she'd done with Jake. Been there, done that, got the broken heart.

"I see that look in your eyes. I'll shut up now."

She blew out a frustrated breath as she pushed her hair through the water. "I'm not trying to be difficult. I just… I just want to know you. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? To want to know my boyfriend?"

"No. There's nothing wrong with that. And I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just… I just need a little time to gear myself up for it. It's not… it's not something I'm very proud of."

Peyton eyed him warily. "You're not going to tell me you tortured and killed a puppy, are you? Because that's a relationship ender right there."

Lucas tried to summon a smile, for her, at the very least, but he just couldn't. It was enough that he had to live with the burden every single day of what had transpired, but having to tell her—that would be his own private hell. There were just some things a girlfriend didn't need to know. "I assure you, no harm has befallen a puppy."

Peyton said nothing further, just threw Lucas her loofah and gave him her back. "You're not going to grill me anymore?" he asked as he lathered up the sponge.

"You'll tell me when you're ready. I can be patient. I just want to know that you will tell me eventually. A girl deserves to know what she's getting into."

"I'll tell you," he promised, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. He would tell her. He wouldn't like seeing the look on her face, for her to know what a mess he'd made of his life—how he'd screwed up monumentally because he'd been young and stupid and drunk.

—

"What is it, Visit Lucas at Work Week?" Lucas snickered, finding Skills sitting at his desk when he returned from lunch.

Skills was reclined in the chair, his hands behind his head, his feet propped up on the desk, completely at ease. "I could get used to this," he said as he spotted Lucas standing in the doorway.

"You do know that actual work is involved, right?" As an afterthought, he added, "Hell, if I knew my Dad wouldn't bitch and complain from here to Sunday, I'd toss you the keys and head to the beach," closing the door behind himself.

"Alone?"

"Never." Lucas smirked, dropping into one of the chairs directly in front of Skills. "So, what brings you here?"

"I heard you was back. I would've came sooner but I heard that you didn't come alone. I didn't want to intrude."

"Since when does anyone worrying about intruding? Normally the lot of you would swarm down on my house and invade it like it was Normandy." Skills supplied Lucas with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Lucas threw his head back, letting out a small shriek of frustration. "Why is it so interesting to you all that I brought a woman home with me? I've dated. It's not like I've been celibate these last few years."

"I don't know, Luke. We all think this one's different." Skills paused a beat, giving his best friend the stare down. "Is she?"

Lucas flashed Skills a knowing look. Unfortunately Skills wouldn't deter. He stared until Lucas exclaimed, "Okay. Alright! Yes, she's different. She's different."

For a long moment, Lucas waited for Skills to say something. Anything. He could count on Skills to have an opinion—and an honest one at that. Skills would tell him that he was crazy, that he was moving too fast. That he knew next to nothing about Peyton. That what he was feeling couldn't be love... could it?

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

Skills just shook his head. "No. Because you probably don't want to hear what I'm gonna say."

"Say it anyway. It's never stopped you before."

Skills dropped his feet to the floor and sat up straighter. Folding his hands atop the desk, he told Lucas, "I'm not going to say anything at all, Luke. Because like it or not you feel something for this girl, that's why this is bugging you so much—all of our interests in her and this relationship. You didn't tell any of us that she existed. That's the tell right there, buddy."

Lucas knew that Skills was right. He hadn't told anyone about her for a reason, because he was scared that their interference would muck it all up. Well, Nathan's interference would, anyway. Seeing that this conversation was veering in a touchy-feely girly kind of way, he said, "Can we not do the girl thing? I'd rather not, if you don't mind."

"That's cool." Then, "So me and Tim was talking…"

Lucas groaned. "A sentence that starts off like that can never end well."

Skills ignored Lucas, soldiering on to say, "We was talking about throwing you a welcome home party—"

"No," Lucas intervened quickly. He did not want a party. He did not want a bunch of strangers milling about his house, hitting on his girlfriend and breaking things.

"You didn't even let me finish," Skills objected.

"Look, Skills I don't want a party. I'm grateful to you and Tim for the thought, but the answer is no. Besides, do you remember what you two did to my house after the last party you threw? I don't think so. We can have something a little tamer, a barbecue or something," Lucas suggested in exchange.

Defeated, Skills agreed as he stood up and began to make his way toward the door. "Fine. Whatever. She'll be there, right?"

Lucas resigned himself to having to share his girlfriend with his friends (and more than likely his family) for an entire evening. The sooner they assuaged their curiosity, the better. "Yes, she'll be there."

"Your house, then. Tomorrow night. I'll bring the potato salad. "

—

Lucas heard Peyton yelling as he let himself into the house, his arms loaded with bags of groceries. Skills and the rest of his friends would be arriving within the hour and it didn't bode well for the night's success if Peyton was already in a mood. As he neared the kitchen he heard her yelling, "I don't care if your dog died or you lost an arm. You need to get your ass into the studio and record your album. No, no excuses." She paused for a moment, listening for a reply, then she responded, "Look, just do what they tell you to do unless you'd rather be singing on a street corner for spare change."

"That was interesting," Lucas remarked once she'd ended the call.

Peyton smiled thinly. "I was yelling, wasn't I?"

"A little, yeah. Tough day at the office?" he asked, setting the bags down on the counter.

"One of my artists has this inability to follow directions. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants and where he wants. It's a little frustrating. He's newly acquired and my bosses are pressuring me to get him to the studio to cut a track that we can start distributing to radio stations in preparation for the album that he will hopefully release at the end of this year. See? My job isn't the least bit glamorous."

"What job is?" Lucas scoffed as he started pulling groceries out of the bags. Carrying an armload to the refrigerator, he told her, "I have a confession to make. I didn't really think your job was all that glamorous."

Peyton sucked in a breath. "You didn't? Our relationship is based on a lie?" Grinning, she laid her phone on the counter and began to help him unpack the bags he'd brought in.

"Why do you keep this guy on if he's so much trouble?"

"Because he's my ex-boyfriend," she revealed without thinking. The steak sauce Lucas had been in the process of taking from her fell to the floor. She didn't shrink as Lucas straightened to his full height, repeating, "Your ex-boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Lucas realized that she was throwing him a bone, giving him insight into her previous relationship. Though, he had to admit that it rankled a bit that this guy was still a part of Peyton's life. "He works with you?"

"Actually for me," she felt compelled to correct. "Not that it really matters."

Lucas stared at her, amused that his small question had resorted in her mindless babble. "Was it serious?"

Peyton laughed. She tried not to, but the concept of anyone having a serious relationship with Chris Keller invoked the funny. However, Lucas who didn't know Chris was not amused. "No," she said, immediately hearing the disgust in her voice. "My relationship with Chris Keller was a joke. We dated for a month and it was thirty days too long, to be honest."

"But you're friends now?"

"We're not friendly at all. He often tells me that I'm verbally abusive. Which is true."

"Does he deserve the abuse, verbal or otherwise?"

"Every second of it."

Satisfied with that, Lucas hauled Peyton into his arms. "I'm sorry that I sprung this dinner on you."

"It's fine, Luke. I'm happy to meet your friends."

"And on that note, let me just apologize in advance for them. Well, for Tim, anyway. Skills won't be a problem."

Peyton eyed him warily as he slid from arms and headed for the bedroom. "Now, I'm scared."

"As you should be."

—

Peyton had ordered him to open up a bottle of wine while she dashed into the bathroom to change. He was in the process of deciding between red or white when the door to the house opened.

Handshakes and hugs were exchanged, his friends excited at seeing him. "I'm sorry about your dad, Luke," Tim told him as he crossed to the refrigerator to stash the six pack he was holding. "How is he?"

"He's Dad, you know. He'd rather be working or fishing or living vicariously through Nathan."

Lucas turned away to avoid the looks that his friends were no doubt giving him. It was no secret that he was envious of the attention that his dad gave Nathan. But he understood why Dan was so enamored of Nathan. Nathan had reached the ultimate point in his basketball career that Dan himself had aspired to. Lucas had aspired to the pros at one point himself.

"And on that sour note…"

A collection of groans were expelled as the three of them recognized the voice. "Who invited the brat?" Tim asked, jerking his thumb at Lily who had entered the house unnoticed.

Lily glared at him. "I don't need an invitation to see my brother, jerk wad. Shouldn't you be hooking up with a stripper, getting syphilis or something?"

"Shouldn't you be at home doing homework and watching Nickelodeon?" he shot back.

"Hardy har har. You're hilarious. Did you think that one up all by yourself?"

"Okay, that's enough. From the both of you," Lucas said, shooting stern looks from his sister to Tim. It never failed. Whenever the two of them were in the same room together, barbs and insults flew back and forth endlessly. It was slightly irritating.

Lily did her best to look chagrined. "He started it, Luke," she mumbled, tamping down the urge to stick her tongue out at Tim.

"It's Tim. You know he does it to piss you off."

"Well… he's succeeding," Lily huffed.

Lucas looped his arm around his sister and moved her to his side. "Tim, leave Lily alone."

"Yeah, pick on somebody who rivals your I.Q.," Lily put in right before Lucas scowled down at her. "Last insult, I swear."

"It better be."

Lucas dropped a kiss atop Lily's head before he moved away to grab glasses from the cupboard. He was in the midst of setting wine glasses down on the counter when Tim said, "There's juice boxes in the fridge for you, Lily."

"Ceasefire, Tim," Skills said to his friend as he set the bowl of potato salad he'd brought with him down on the counter beside the glasses.

The boys gathered up the barbecue items and headed outside. Lucas invited Lily to join them, but they were boys. They would no doubt be talking about basketball, girls and sex. Um, no thank you. Besides there was only so much Tim she could handle. It was better if he was received in small doses.

For a while, she just stood there, staring at the door that Tim, Skills and Lucas had just vacated. She questioned her decision to come here, though she couldn't really stay away. She was eager to meet Peyton, to see the woman that her parents were sure would become her sister-in-law.

"Hey, Luke, where's the—" Peyton stopped suddenly, seeing the young girl standing in the kitchen. "Well, hello."

It was her. She with the flippy hair, perfect skin and prettiest eyes Lily had ever seen. Was she a model? Had Lucas (or her parents for that matter) mentioned what or who Peyton was? She couldn't remember. It didn't signify, anyway—the girl was a knockout. "You're her," she blurt out like an idiot.

"If by her you mean Peyton, then you're right. And you must be Lily."

"Was I that obvious?"

Peyton shook her head. "No. The likeness between you and Lucas is uncanny." Peyton stepped further into the kitchen, asking, "So are you crashing?"

Lily nodded, not bothering to lie. "I wanted to see you. I mean, meet you. Either way, here I am."

"You have his dry wit, too."

Lily smiled at that; she liked when people acknowledged similarity between her and Lucas. "My Dad says I'm just like Lucas. Whenever he gets mad at me, he pulls out his trump card. 'Lilliana, you're just like Lucas.' Sometimes I'm glad for it, others not so much." Lily moved to the counter and slid onto a barstool. "He doesn't talk about us much, does he? Lucas is very private, but I'm sure you've learned that about him already."

Peyton knew that Lily expected her to sing Lucas's praises. Instead, she turned the conversation to Lily herself. "Your real name is Lilliana?"

"Yes, but please call me Lily. The full name is only broken out under dire circumstances."

Peyton said, "Lily it is. So, should we go outside and join the boys?"

"I'd rather not. Tim is out there."

"And we don't like Tim?" Peyton asked, and then realized that at Lily's age usually the person you liked the most inwardly was the one that you despised outwardly. "Or we like him too much?"

"Don't tell Lucas. Please. I know I don't you and I have no right to ask… but please don't. He'll tease me endlessly. After all, it's Tim."

Peyton knew firsthand what it was like to be attracted to the wrong person. She assured Lily, "Your secret's safe with me."

—

Outside, Lucas, Skills and Tim were busy watching the fire strengthen in the barbecue as they talked and caught up on each other's lives. Lucas was surprised to find out that his sister's offhand comment from earlier was true. Tim had acquired a fondness for slutty strippers. Not that Lucas should be surprised by that revelation. Skills, meanwhile, was dating a teacher from the high school and was contemplating proposing.

"Wow. Tim's addicted to diseased strippers and you want to get married."

"They're not all diseased," Tim insisted.

The three of them exchanged a laugh, and then busted out laughing. They had always enjoyed one another's company, even when Tim and Nathan had been friends. That was how Peyton and Lily found them.

"We're late for the joke, apparently."

Ever the gentlemen, they shot to their feet. Lucas was the last to stand, only doing so when his friends sent him disgruntled looks. She winked at him, an assurance that his rebellious behavior would suit for the time being. "You must be Skills and Tim." Peyton outstretched her hand toward them, but was gathered into a group hug by the two men. "Well," she said once they'd let her go. "Aren't you a friendly bunch."

Lucas stepped up beside her, looping an arm around her waist. "Peyton, guys. Guys, Peyton." When Tim started to approach again, ready to furnish Peyton with another hug, he said, "Sit, Tim. Stay."

Tim double smacked his chest with his fist. "Bros over hoes, Luke. Bros over hoes."

Lucas ignored Tim as he turned to Peyton to say, "So I see you've met Lily." He glanced past her at his sister who was loitering near the door.

"I have. I have to say that it's a little scary how like you she is, Luke."

"Yeah, L. Scott. She's like you with breasts."

"Stop trying to make that work, Tim."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Home sweet home." He brushed a kiss to Peyton's temple, asking as he pulled away, "Are you girls going to hang out here with us?"

Peyton took stock of Luke's friends. They seemed nice enough, although it was making her uneasy the way Tim kept leering at her. "Thanks, but we'll pass. I think we'll hang out inside. I thought I'd get Lily's opinion on some new demos."

Lily brightened. Like Lucas, she loved music. "You're in the music business?"

With a nod of her head, Peyton told her, "I own a record label."

"Sweet. You manage anyone good?" Lily asked as she fell into step behind Peyton. A thought occuring to her, she turned back to her brother. "Wouldn't it be a strange coincidence if Haley was on Peyton's label?" Lily didn't wait around for his reaction, she just bounced into the house behind Peyton, eager to thumb through Peyton's music collection.

As Skills and Tim busied themselves with throwing steaks on the pit, Lucas stewed over the likelihood that Haley was signed to Peyton's label. It was a definite possibility—but it was the kind of coincidence he didn't need.

—

Lucas had just sat down at his desk after grabbing a small bite to eat from the vending machine in the employee lounge when his dad's longtime secretary, Margaret, announced over the speakerphone, "Nathan's on line one, Lucas."

He ground his teeth, his immediate reaction when presented with a conversation with his younger brother. He sat there, staring at the phone as he debated ignoring the call altogether. Since everything had gotten so fucked up, he and Nathan didn't speak. Or, rather, they didn't speak civilly. The whole damn situation was entirely his fault. He knew it, had owned up to it. As always, Nathan refused to own up to the part that he played.

He took the call. "Nathan. Hey," he greeted his brother, choosing to rise above the situation and be the better person.

"How is he?" his brother blurted, ever the conversationalist.

Annoyed, Lucas spat, "You called me just to ask about Dad? You could've called him yourself. Better yet, you could visit him. But I forget how self-involved you are." So much for rising above it.

Lucas heard Nathan expel a deep breath through the line, as if it was taking every ounce of his willpower to maintain his composure. But then any hopes of civility, decency, that little thing known as respect became nonexistent when Nathan said, "That would have been easier, sure. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to ask you about Peyton. That is her name, right?"

Lucas felt every part of his body screech to a halt, every tissue, nerve and blood cell stopping their work with that one simple, teeny, tiny word. "Yeah, it's Peyton. What about her?" he ground out, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Karen said that L-O-V-E is in the air. How fucking romantic."

"My mom doesn't know what she's talking about," Lucas said insistently, albeit wondering what the hell his mother was doing relaying any information about his life to Nathan. She knew how fragile their relationship had become, knew exactly what had transpired to get them to where they were.

"No? I think she does."

Lucas had grown tired of these games that his brother kept playing. Though, he hadn't dated much since their fallout, since Nathan had made his revenge ploy known. He didn't fathom waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Nathan to do what had been done to him. It had happened three damn years ago. Why wasn't he over it yet? "What do you want, Nathan?" It was a stupid question. Lucas knew what he wanted—and he couldn't have her.

"That's simple, Lucas. I want Peyton. I mean, that's what we do, isn't it? Share our girlfriends?"

Lucas was growing tired of this never-ending feud with his brother. Nathan didn't want to forgive him—fine. But how would getting even make everything better? Nathan would only be repeating Lucas's mistake or rather the mistake that Nathan assumed he made. "Don't you think it's time to get past that, Nate? We've all moved on."

"I haven't! Haley hasn't."

Lucas sighed. "Whatever, Nathan. Make your veiled threats and be done with it, why don't you? I have work to do."

"I'll be seeing you, Luke," was all Nathan said before he ended the call, the promise of retribution in his words chilling Lucas to the bone.