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.

A/N: Long overdue, I know. Sorry you guys had to wait a month for this part, but school got in the way with writing. After finals next week I'll be able to update regularly again and hopefully finish this and Fault & Fracture.

—

08. The Last One to Know

Peyton arrived at the café fifteen minutes early for her lunch date with Lucas. He wouldn't have long and the café was close. She liked the café. She'd come to like the food and the ambience. The clientele she wasn't sure about, however, she thought glumly, spotting Nathan sitting at the counter. He glanced over his shoulder, saw her and spun around on the stool. "I didn't know you were working today."

"I'm not," she told him, not sure that it was wise for her to be talking to him when she was expecting Lucas. Though, she didn't move away.

Nathan patted the stool beside him. "Sit. You can have lunch with me."

She glanced outside in search of the car that Lucas had on loan from the dealership. "Maybe another time. Lucas is meeting me."

Nathan frowned at her. "Sidelined for Lucas again," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

Nathan waved it off, picking up his menu. "You work here, what do you recommend? Because I'm thinking club sandwich. Maybe soup. They have good soup here."

"Why are you here?" she asked, directly. "I mean, really."

Nathan tapped the menu with his fingers, toying with the thought of telling her. What fun it would be to see her face and be confronted by his brother afterward… The damage he would do. No. He'd waited three years for this. He wasn't going to squander it in a few days time. "I'm here to see my father back to health and presently I'm here because I'm hungry."

If Nathan thought for even a second that she was going to give up that easily, he had a lot to learn. If Lucas wouldn't give her answers, then she'd get them some other way. Even if she had to piss them both off to do it. "Luke said that you and Dan aren't real close, that he marvels over you because you play basketball."

They talked about him? How cozy. How interesting. "That's true," he answered truthfully. "Dan likes me because I play basketball. He loves Lucas because he's his son with the woman he loves." He shrugged noncommittally. "That's my lot in life."

Peyton eyed him curiously and said, "This thing between you and Luke… it's not just about Haley. There's more to it. I just know it. And the two of you are prolonging it…for what?"

He scowled at her menacingly. His relationship with his brother was none of her concern. She was merely a means to an end. He had no genuine interest her aside from ruining any chance she and Lucas had at a long-term commitment. He didn't care about her happiness. He didn't want her for a friend. He wanted his revenge and that was all. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything about me or my family."

Peyton conceded that point. "That may be true, but I'd wager that you don't either." Peyton turned away from him as Lucas came through the door. She greeted him with a kiss, watching the look that he bestowed on his brother. Okay, it was more of a glare. She grabbed his hand and led him to a table…away from Nathan. She wasn't going to let him ruin their lunch. He did so anyway.

After she and Lucassettled at a table, she started perusing the menu not the least bit surprised when Lucas inquired, "What were you and Nathan talking about?"

"Nothing. He was here when I came in." She looked back towards the counter, but Nathan was gone.

"He's gone now," Lucas supplied helpfully after Peyton had returned her attention to her menu. She was cognizant of the fact that he had yet to look down at the menu, his eyes trained solely on her.

She glanced at him coyly but didn't rise to the occasion. "It was nothing, Luke," she insisted after some time had passed and he hadn't said anything.

"You know I'm not that hungry after all." He rose to his feet, but Peyton's dejected look had him resettling with a sigh. "I told you…"

"I'm aware of what you told me," she snapped. "Can I help it if he's here? No. And it's not in my nature to ignore someone when they're speaking to me. Or would you rather me be rude?"

The waitress approached but Lucas shook his head—they weren't ready. "Nathan's playing you, Peyton. I don't know what he's up to, but I know for sure he's up to no good."

"You know what I think?" she asked twining her hands together as she leaned toward him.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"I think that there's another reason that you and your brother are the way you are. That is more about you butting into his relationship, more than him not being the best boyfriend he was capable of being to Haley. I don't understand why you just can't tell me. Is it really that bad?"

Lucas surprised her, persisting, "I've told you everything, Peyton."

"If that was the truth you wouldn't be so ornery about me talking to your brother."

"I thought we came here to eat lunch."

"We did…until you started throwing out veiled accusations. I don't appreciate that," she huffed, her own attitude shot to hell. She hated arguing with him, but she didn't like this feeling of impending doom that was hanging over them. "And for the record, I don't like being told what to do or what not to do. You're not my father."

Lucas nodded mutely. "In other words telling you to stay away from Nathan was a moot point. You'll talk to him whether I like it or not, is that it?"

"Until I come to the realization that Nathan's a threat to me personally then, yes, if I see him I'm going to talk to him."

"I have to get to work," Lucas announced, rising to his feet.

Peyton stood up as well. "You're leaving? How mature."

His eyes were hard and cold when he set them upon her, his voice the same when he found words. "If Nathan is such enthralling company, next time invite him to lunch so I don't waste my time."

—

Dan was watching ESPN when the door eased open. He was expecting his nurse so he flicked off the TV, taken aback, although pleasantly, when he saw Peyton lingering in the doorway. "Well, hi there, stranger," he greeted her as she waltzed into his room.

"I didn't want to wake you if you were sleeping," she confessed, pushing the door closed behind her.

"A man can't get a decent night's rest in a hospital. I can't tell you how often my doctor will come in at two in the morning and expect to have coffee and conversation. The nurses are the real bother, always coming in here checking my monitors, fluffing my pillows or some nonsense. For all the touching they do I should be charging them." He noted the basket she was carrying. "What's that?"

She smiled knowingly, hiding the basket behind her back. "I brought you a present."

"I see what you're doing. You're trying to bribe me for not commenting on how you haven't been to see me," he teased.

Flashing him her brightest smile, she inquired, "Is it going to work?"

"You've got to—yes, yes, it's going to work. Whatcha got?" He slid over to accommodate the girth of the basket when Peyton placed it on the bed beside his leg.

"I figured that you were bored here by yourself all the time so I brought you a few things."

He jested, "If that basket is full of boxes of Kleenex I am going to be underwhelmed…and slightly amused."

Laughing Peyton shook her head and began handing things to him: CDs, magazines, a can of spray cheese, a box of crackers, cookies, candies, among other things. "See," she said once she was finished, "no Kleenex."

He waved to the box of tissue on the night table. "Well I have enough tissue here to handle the job, if it came to that."

Peyton smothered a chuckle. "The nurses are still unattractive, huh?"

Dan grimaced, eliciting a giggle out of Peyton. "They're so…it's unfair to call them bears. To the bears. My last stay I had this one nurse…man, was she a knockout. Karen would stay here every night. I think she was scared that I was going to feel up the nurse or something." He silenced. Smirked. "The thought did cross my mind a time or two, I'll have you know."

"You're incorrigible." Peyton slid into the chair beside his bed.

"I thank you for the basket. I don't get presents unless it's a special occasion or unless one of the kids did something that I have to pay for. It was nice of you."

She shrugged. "I had some time on my hands."

"Karen hasn't needed you at the café, I take it?"

"I work a few hours here and there, but it's presented a problem."

Dan sat up straighter on the bed. "Is everything okay? You and Luke—?"

"We're fine," she assured him. "At least I think we are. Honestly, I don't know. Nathan's been around. Luke feels threatened. I've tried to explain that Nathan's a customer, that I'm entitled to wait on him, talk to him. We haven't spoken in a few days."

"I'm sure the two of you will straighten things out."

"You're probably right," she agreed, smoothing out her skirt over her crossed knees.

Dan opened his mouth to make excuses for his sons, but instead decided to go the other route. It wasn't like he had to be anywhere, he might as well start at the beginning.

"Peyton, the thing you have to realize about Lucas and Nathan is that it's not easy being a son of mine. My mistakes became theirs. It wasn't fair but that's life in a small town. You see, I got Karen pregnant right out of high school. She was pregnant with Lucas and I…I walked away." He waited for Peyton to comment, but she said nothing. He continued speaking. "I left her to raise Lucas on her own. At the time, basketball was more important. I suggested she get an abortion. To this day, I still don't know how she ever forgave me for suggesting such a thing. That's the kind of woman she is."

Peyton noted how Dan smiled as he talked about Karen. Even speaking about the awful thing he'd done, he spoke of her with such praise, such awe, such love. It humbled her. That was the kind of relationship she wanted—the kind that overcame obstacles and strengthened because of it. She didn't want to see her relationship crack under pressure; she wanted it to thrive.

She realized that Dan hadn't stopped talking. "I went on to college to play basketball. I met Nathan's mother there. She got pregnant and we married. I'd gotten hurt so my basketball career was over. We moved back here and though I didn't have to see Karen every day I knew she was in town. I knew she was close. My brother Keith…in my absence he was there for her. He loved her, too, you see. He manned up when I didn't. My marriage was a disaster. I didn't love my wife. The only good that came out of it was Nathan. I tried to divide my time between my two sons, but the more time I spent with Karen and Lucas the more I longed to be with her, with the both of them. It took a toll on everyone involved until…until my wife slept with my brother."

She gasped. "I'm sorry."

"It's our dirty little secret even though the whole town knows. Deb and I tried to make it work. We did everything imaginable to keep our family together for Nathan's sake. Her affair, my love for Karen…we were kidding ourselves. It was messy but I left. Karen and I got back together and got married."

"I don't get what any of this has to do with Lucas and Nathan's inability to get along."

"I'm getting to that…if you'll let me." Peyton smiled sheepishly, and quieted. "Now, where was I? Oh, right. Nathan came to live with us after Deb got addicted to pain pills." At Peyton's curious look, he explained, "Neck injury from a car accident. He was in an "I Hate Daddy" phase since I was living with Lucas and not him."

Peyton interjected, "Ah. I think I know where you're going with this."

Yet Dan continued. "They fought for everything in the beginning. My attention, Karen's. They got along, sure, but there was always a competition for…something. As they got older it became about other stuff: grades, sports, who could guzzle a 7UP the fastest—"

"Ew."

Dan smirked, explaining, "Boys." He shifted on the bed and rearranged the blanket on his lap. "Then it became about girls and sports and…" He stopped. He wondered if Lucas had even told Peyton about his HCM. He made a mental note to kick his son's ass if he hadn't. The two were living under the same roof. She deserved to know.

"You don't have to say anymore, Mr.—Dan. I understand."

"Do you?"

Peyton fidgeted in the leather chair. It was no wonder that Dan was miserable. The furniture left something to be desired. "I have a brother. I know what it's like. The competition. The one-upping."

"I bet you wiped the floor with him."

Peyton buffed her nails on her blouse. "I did pretty well, if I say so myself. Derek was easy to manipulate."

"I've tried to get the two of them to mend their differences but they're just so damn stubborn. They like the fussing and fighting, the competition."

"Do you and Keith get along?"

Dan snorted. "We do now, but when we were their age…" Dan stopped and stared at Peyton. Wagging his finger at her, he said, "I see what you did there. You're saying maybe they'll grow out of it."

"Didn't you?"

"Maybe you can succeed where I failed, Peyton. Maybe you'll be the one to shape them up. Though if Haley didn't have much success I don't see…" Dan snapped his mouth shut when he saw Peyton's spine stiffen and immediately saw his error. Did she know? Had Lucas told her? Regardless, he didn't want her to leave and he certainly didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He changed the subject, dragging the basket she'd brought him onto his lap as he told her, "I'm hungry." He fumbled around at the bottom, unearthing a bag of Snickers. "Oh, God. I probably shouldn't…" he said, setting the bag back in the basket.

"Would you like me to open them?"

Dan tossed her the bag. "Quickly."

—

Lucas had been summoned to the hospital for his father. He'd fired an employee that morning and Dan wanted a report. In person. He'd had to set aside everything he was doing and make a special trip across town just to appease his father. He was on edge, the result of having ignored his girlfriend for the past two days. He wasn't proud of his behavior, but dammit, why couldn't she listen to him and stay the hell away from Nathan?

As if his week wasn't already in the shithole, he spotted his brother exiting the hospital. He prayed that Nathan would keep silent, that they would just pass one another and go on their merry ways. But as they passed one another, Nathan smacked Lucas with his shoulder. Purposefully.

Letting out a deep, frustrated breath, Lucas refused to stoop so low as to retaliate, but Nathan was determined to get under his skin. "How was your lunch?"

"Today?"

"No. The one that you and Peyton had at the café the other day."

Lucas balled his fist and turned away. "Some boyfriend you are, leaving your girlfriend to fend for herself in a strange town. I mean, you don't know what kind of people she'll meet."

"Are you stalking her now?"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I was in my car taking a call when I saw you leave. She stayed and had lunch by herself."

"Stay away from her, Nathan," Lucas told his brother in a deadly voice.

"I can't help it if she finds me irresistible, Luke." The taunt was one step too far, Nathan realized when Lucas grabbed up fistfuls of his shirt and pushed him against the side of the building.

A nurse leaving flashed them a look but otherwise ignored them. It wasn't her business to interfere so she didn't. For that he was thankful. Lucas didn't want this altercation to get back to his parents. To Peyton.

Lucas growled, "I don't think you're understanding me. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Stay. Away. From. Peyton." He punctuated each word to get his point across.

"Get off me." Nathan pushed his brother away, calmly straightening his clothes. "My, my how the mighty have fallen. Feel it now, don't you, Lucas? The despair? The fear? How does it feel to watch her pull away? To watch her make time with someone else? Doesn't feel good, does it?"

"It sucks," Lucas muttered.

"Good. Now take that feeling and multiply it times three. You weren't happy with just stealing Dad and my best friend from me. No, you couldn't be satisfied with them. Saint Lucas had to go and have Haley too. She never meant anything to you, not until you saw what she meant to me."

"That poor, poor pitiful me act is a little tired, Nathan. And I didn't steal Dad from you. Or Tim, for that matter. You didn't have time for either of them. Only basketball. As for Haley, if she meant so much to you, Nathan, why didn't you treat her better? Why all the girls and the lies?"

Nathan harrumphed. "You're one to lecture me about lies. Does Peyton even know about what happened between you and Haley?"

"Shut up, Nathan."

"Surprise, surprise. She doesn't. "

"She will."

"When? On your deathbed after thirty years of marriage and three kids? Wouldn't that be just like you. Maybe I should tell her. At least one of us would be honest with her. She could cry on my shoulder… you know kind of like how Haley did with you. Maybe the end result will be the same." He didn't see Lucas ball his fist until his brother had punched him in the face. He staggered back, crumpling against the wall. As he righted himself, Nathan dabbed at the blood collecting at the corner of his mouth, sneering at his brother. "You tell her, Lucas… or I will."

—

The last few days had been a rollercoaster. She could feel Lucas pulling away. He'd spent the last few nights on the sofa, not returning home until after she'd fallen asleep, leaving in the morning at his usual time. In an effort to keep her mind of their disintegrating relationship, she'd resorted to painting. His bedroom.

She concentrated on the brush strokes, the music pushing her forward, her anger and confusion her motivation. She didn't hear the door open, but she felt Lucas before she ever heard him enter the room. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her paintbrush going limp in her hand. She felt her cheeks go hot. The room was in complete disorder. Drop cloths covered his furniture, the floor and the bed. And his walls... What if he didn't like what she'd done? What if he asked her to get rid of it, paint over it? It was the most she'd painted in…years, probably. It wasn't quite done but she was proud of it.

"It's not finished," Peyton said quickly, bending over to set down the paintbrush. She reached for the washcloth that she had hung on the ladder and wiped her fingers.

Lucas stepped forward, his eyes sweeping around all four walls, in complete awe as he took in the mural. A basketball court. Not just any basketball court, he comprehended immediately. The Rivercourt. Astonished, he spoke to her the first time in days. "When did you have time to do this?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Once I get started it usually doesn't take long."

"I didn't even know that you could do this…" He remembered the art supplies in her loft back in L.A. He'd never thought… never inquired…

"There's a lot that you don't know about me, Lucas." In a whisper, she added, "There's a lot that I don't know about you." It had grated on her nerves how he distrusted her, how he continuously kept her on the outside. She shared his life, but he didn't share his.

"Some things are not easy to talk about," Lucas told her as he noticed the picture taped to the ladder. The Rivercourt, in its glory days. He wondered where she'd gotten the idea, how she knew what it would mean to him.

Peyton began inching across the room toward him. "Lucas, you know you could tell me anything."

"I know that. I do. It's just… I don't want to. Because it's not…" He sighed. Oh, the hell with it. The damage was done. It was either tell her or run the risk of Nathan doing the job for him. Peyton deserved to hear it from him.

She touched his arm, compassion shining in her eyes. "What is it, Lucas? You can tell me."

He took a deep breath and held her gaze as he told her, "I lied to you, Peyton. About Haley." As if burned, she pulled her hand away. He didn't begrudge her the reaction.

"So you and Haley…" She couldn't even get the question out; the words burned her throat.

He continued, "It was only once." Somehow, he doubted that made it better. "One fucking time and it destroyed everything."

Peyton was a couple of sentences behind him. "I asked you point blank if the two of you had slept together and you denied it. To my face."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry? What a grand time for you to chalk that up." Her feelings were more hurt than anything because he didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth. "Don't you trust me?"

"You know I do. It wasn't about trust."

"What was it about then?"

"I know what this does to a relationship, Peyton. My Dad…his first wife cheated on him. With my uncle. I don't think he ever got passed it, the betrayal. He and Keith buried the hatchet, sure, but I saw the way that he looked at Deb and Keith and I…I never wanted you to look at me like that."

"You're a little late for that, aren't you?" she said, glaring at him.

"I hate that I hurt you. That was never my intention. I was a completely different person then. I wanted to protect you from that."

"You didn't protect me from this, though, did you? From this Lucas," she said with a wave of her hand at him. "You should learn to pick your battles a little better."

He watched, defeated, as she started from the room. "Peyton, where are you going?"

She didn't turn back to face him. "The walls need time to dry. Don't touch them. Or touch them…I don't care. I have to go pick up your sister's birthday gift from the airport."

—

"Gimme a hug!"

"Hug yourself," Peyton spat at Chris, pissed off at the world. It was disconcerting finding out that not only had her boyfriend screwed one of her artists—a woman that she could see as a friend—but that he had spent weeks lying to her about it. She hated him, she hated the situation and most of all she hated that she was standing in front of Chris Keller and did not want to smack him silly.

He stopped, stared, then hugged her. "This attitude is because you missed me, right? I know I feel the same."

"I did not miss you, you nitwit," she told him, pushing him away and disentangling herself from his arms.

"You know you're making me second guess my decision to come here."

"Need I remind you that your job rests in my hands."

"And what pretty hands they are."

"Yes, and if you don't shut your trap and get moving you're going to find them around your neck, squeezing the life out of you."

"Ouch. Harsh imagery," he complained picking up his bag and guitar. Chris fell into step behind Peyton, letting her lead the way out of the terminal. "So where's your boyfriend? Do I get to meet him? Is he waiting for us in the car? Does he know about our relationship?"

Peyton stopped so abruptly that Chris ran into her back and nearly toppled both of them down to the floor. "Listen, here," she said once she'd righted herself, "You are here to perform. You are not here to make nice with my boyfriend and his family. He's paid for you and he's paying extra not to be bothered by you. Got it?"

"You still didn't answer my question. Does he know about us?"

Huffing, she informed him, "Yes, Lucas knows that in a month when I was clearly on some high volume meds I dated you."

"I am flattered that you tell people that we dated, but do you mind keeping that on the D.L. I don't need that to get around and for people to think that I was banging you to get ahead in my career."

"That was…you can't…ooooh!" she exclaimed, watching as Chris preceded her with a little jaunt. "You know I might fire you after all."

He turned around and began walking backwards as he shot back, "Then who would you threaten to maim?" He tapped his temple with his forefinger. "I got all my bases covered."

Smiling with satisfaction, Peyton watched as Chris neared the doors, tripped over the threshold and landed flat on his ass on the pavement outside. Standing over him, she said smugly, "Uh huh. Serves you right."

"Stop smiling and help me up."

"I should leave you there," Peyton told him as she extended her hand and helped him to his feet.

"You're in a mood today," he noted, brushing himself off.

"I am, so try not to piss me off further."

"Like I would do that." She gave him a dour look. "Okay, I would, but not intentionally."

—

After she'd dropped Chris off at his hotel, Peyton reluctantly returned to the beach house. She'd debated getting a hotel room or even staying with Chris but she wasn't that desperate. Or crazy.

The door had just slammed behind her when Lucas walked out of the bathroom. His hair was still wet and he hadn't had time to get dressed. Her anger was still new and potent; the sight didn't do anything for her. Yet, she tried not to notice that he was holding his towel secure with one hand. God help her if his grasp waned.

"You're back." He sounded surprised. "I thought that maybe…you were pretty angry when you left."

"I still am."

"You're hiding it well."

She shrugged. "It's on a low boil." She gestured to her paint splattered jeans and tee. "The party is in a few hours and I'm a mess." She pointed towards the bathroom. "Are you done?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Peyton. I really am," he told her as she moved past him.

At the bathroom, she stopped and faced him. "Don't sweat it, Lucas. You aren't the first man in my life to lie and cheat. I just thought you were different." She paused, then sadly added, "You're more like him than I realized."

Lucas watched the door close, wondering whom Peyton was talking about. Who was she comparing him to? Had she made the comparison all along? Was this man still in her life?

Maybe it wasn't just his mistakes he was paying for, but someone else's as well.