A/N: Your reviews are wicked-awesome. Thank you.

Largo: an Italian musical direction that indicates that the music should be played with a slow, intense build up toward the crescendo

"Sorry I'm late," Peyton said breathlessly as she slipped into the chair across from Brooke.

Her old friend's smile was forced. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Peyton had feared that would be the case. Her reasons for her lack of punctuality were fairly stupid and rather trivial. Firstly, she hadn't known what to wear. For the first time in over a decade, Brooke had seen her. Once, she'd been crying in her pyjamas. The second time, she was in casual clothes and covered in cookie dough. Peyton wanted to prove that she'd actually done something with her life and was capable of pulling herself together.

When she was finally dressed in a short, sleeveless black dress with tiny white polka dots all over it, she rushed downstairs only to find an impromptu CMC meeting going on. She really didn't want to face Chris or Haley, so she had to find some way to leave Tric without encountering them. She'd had to crouch down and sneak behind some stacked tables before clambering out a window. It's taken her a chunk of time to do all of tht, and she ended up being nearly half an hour late to meet Brooke at the small restaurant.

"I meant what I said," Peyton assured her simply. She bit her lower lip. "Do you think this calls for champagne?" she asked Brooke teasingly, even though it was only mid-morning.

The brunette shrugged gamely. "Why not?" She snapped her fingers and a clearly intimidated waiter scuttled over to the table. "Champagne," Brooke ordered. "The best you've got."

"Of course, Mrs. Davis-Scott. Right away."

Peyton arched an eyebrow, determined not to let Brooke's surname affect her. "Do you frequent this place, Mrs. Davis-Scott?"

She laughed. "I bring the best of the best here."

Peyton smiled. "Well. Then I'm honoured."

"Should be," Brooke replied with her typical cheeky grin, and Peyton felt them fall into some sense of normalcy.

"Fill me in," she said quietly, asking for everything.

Brooke shrugged. "I don't even know where to begin…"

"Business is booming, right?" Peyton supplied, helping her out. "I see your stuff everywhere."

"Yeah, it's great," she agreed brightly. "It's hectic but it's good. I have this assistant, Millicent, who is a total godsend. She's such a sweetheart. You should meet her."

"Sounds good."

"Oh," Brooke said, as something appeared to occur her. "I guess you don't know…I, um…" she grinned, almost bashfully. "I have a kid."

Peyton's heart stopped for a couple seconds. It'd been painful enough to realize that she'd missed the births of painful enough to realize that she'd missed the births of Nathan and Haley's children, but Brooke's too?

Lucas', too. They had a child. That hit her hard. She hadn't wanted to think that anything could happen with Lucas, but she couldn't lie. It was always this option, this lingering hope for her. She didn't want to cause trouble…it was just there. Any opportunity had been closed off with his marriage, but Peyton wasn't a saint and a smidgen of hope had remained.

But that had a kid. She wasn't a saint, but her heart was too good to hold on to much of that hope after hearing that news. It was the last nail in coffin of her screwed-up love with the boy that always got away.

"Peyton?" Brooke asked worriedly, hoping she hadn't shocked her too much.

She swallowed thickly. "You have a kid," she breathed. "Oh my god. Brooke, that's so amazing," she said honestly. "Do you…I mean, boy or girl? Give me details."

Her smile was proud. "A girl. Miranda. She's five. She's a spoiled brat, but I love her so much. She's a girly-girl and a bit of a bookworm. Lucas is so adorable with her. She's really got him wrapped around her little finger."

"That's sweet," Peyton said softly. "I can't wait to meet her."

"You'll adore her. I know you will. She's every bit the princess I was at her age."

She grinned as the waiter reappeared with their champagne and a basket of neatly sliced baguette. "Bon appêtit, ladies."

Brooke dismissed him with a regal flick of her wrist. Peyton allowed herself a small smile and raised her eyebrows.

"Too good to converse with the commoners, your highness?"

She giggled. "Sorry. But isn't it cute how afraid of me he is?"

"Yeah," Peyton had to agree, watching as Brooke filled their glasses. "Thanks," she added when Brooke finished.

The brunette lifted her glass. "A toast," she proposed. "To the new and improved B. Davis and P. Sawyer."

Peyton drank to that. She set her glass down and placed her elbows on the table, folding her arms in front of her as she leaned toward Brooke. "I thought that was B. Davis-Scott," she said. It took some strength for her to sound as casual and as playful as she did, but she pulled it off. Lucas was Brooke's husband, the father of her child. He had a family that he loved. The sooner Peyton came to terms with that, the better. "You and Luke are doing well?"

"Yeah," Brooke said contentedly, wearing a private smile. "We really are." Her eyes lit up inquisitively. "What about you, P.? How's your romantic life? Other than Keller…"

Peyton groaned. "God, don't remind me. My romantic life is…nonexistent." At Brooke's horrified stare, she rolled her eyes and hastened to add, "I have sex. There's just nothing…serious."

"Not since Jake?" Brooke prodded gently, her lips slipping into a concerned frown. "No one?"

She shrugged. "There was this one guy, a few years ago. He was pretty great. But he started talking about meeting Jenny, and moving in together, and marriage…all this serious commitment. I wasn't ready for that. I broke it off."

"Classic Peyton Sawyer."

"Excuse me?"

Brooke sighed. "I didn't mean anything bad by it, it's jus that…you tend to run away from love sometimes. Being too close to people can scare you off."

"It was different than that," Peyton sighed.

"If you say so."

"Brooke!"

"I just want you to be happy, Peyton. Let yourself fall a little and just see who catches you. Someone who loves you will, I know it."

She shook her head. "I can't live like that. You've always been able to give your heart away with a little less difficulty than I have. What if I do let myself fall…and what if there's no one there?"

Brooke's smile was kindly, tolerantly affectionate, but also mischievous. "Oh, don't worry, honey, there'll be someone there. And I call maid of honour on the day you become P. Keller."

Peyton gasped, her jaw dropping. "Hey, so not funny! I hurt him, and I still feel like shit about it. Must I remind you that you, too, slept with Chris Keller once upon a time?"

The brunette quirked her eyebrows. "Yeah, well, you've always had a thing for my leftovers."

Peyton winced. Brooke was comfortable with the joke, sure that the past was safely in the past. For Peyton, the words hit a little too close to home.

Brooke misinterpreted her reaction, and reached across the table to lay a comforting hand on Peyton's arm. "Aw, P. Sawyer, don't worry. There are a million guys out there who would be lucky to have you. You won't be stuck with Chris." Her eyes lit. "You should let me set you up!"

"No," Peyton said forcefully.

"But –"

"No."

"But I know someone who would be perf –"

"Brooke Davis!...Scott. No."

Brooke pouted prettily. "Please?"

"Do I need to spell it for you?"

"Fine," the brunette huffed, sitting back in her chair dejectedly. "But let me know if you ever…"

"I will not change my mind. Give it up, B."

Brooke shook her head. "Some things never change," she murmured.

"And some really do," Peyton sighed, too quietly for Brooke to hear. Her eyes ached from tiredness and the tears she no longer deserved to shed over a boy that was so very far from ever belonging to her.

"You okay?" her friend asked.

Peyton buried her regrets and smiled gratefully, happily amazed that Brooke could still pick up on her moods so easily. "Fine. I'm fine." She was thankful to have her back. "I missed you," she said.

Brooke nodded understandingly, wearing her own watery smile. "Yeah. Me, too. It's been too long. Never again, right?"

Peyton's smile grew rueful. Brooke had no idea how many situations her words applied to. "Never again," she agreed, in nothing more than a whisper.


Jenny beat Haley to the studio that morning, early for their appointment. While she waited, she sat in a swiveling chair and listened to Ryanna and her mentor sing together. Ryanna actually embraced her mentor's criticisms, and her singing was phenomenal.

Okay, so she sad a fantastic voice. But Jenny had some great guitar skills, not to mention a fair bit of talent when it came to the piano, and a pretty sweet voice. And she had the guy. She was pretty sure that she had won. It was one of those days when nothing could throw off her happiness.

Haley breezed in right on time, as casually fabulous as always in a bright red dress, Jamie trailing reluctantly behind her. "Hey, rocker chick," she sang out as she set down her to-go coffee cup and two thick bingers.

"Mom, can I go now?" Jamie asked impatiently.

"Oh, sorry, baby –"

"Mom."

Jenny grinned. "It's okay, Jamie. My mom still calls me baby all the time, too."

He grinned back shyly and Jenny bit her lip to keep from giggling.

"Alright, J. Luke. Who're you meeting again?"

"Aiden and Natasha."

"What time are you going to be home?" Haley quizzed, shooting him a serious look as she flipped through one of her binders at a fast pace.

"By five."

"Okay. Daddy'll be there when you get home, then. Promise me you'll give one of us a call if you're going to be late."

"I will," he promise, his eyes honest.

"I love you, baby boy, you know that?"

"Yeah," Jamie sighed, feigning exasperation.

Haley smiled. "Fun is fine –"

"As long as I'm care. I know, Mom. I love you, too. Bye, Jenny."

She waved as he slipped out the door.

"He's absolutely in love with you, Jen," Haley laughed. "My boy has good taste."

She blushed. "Thank you." She nodded to the binders. "What's all that?"

"Just some notes for you."

Her eyes widened. "Just some notes?"

Haley grinned at her. "Nothing terrifying, I promise. It's all helpful. You are going to be so awesome, I can feel it. And I'm never wrong." She tilted her head to the side, withholding the binder. "Hey, honey…how're things with your mom?"

Jenny could feel her big smile lighting up her face. "Really good. Everything's going to be okay now. You don't have to worry."

Haley handed over the heavy binder. "I'd love to believe that," she murmured sadly.

Jenny looked up at her, alarmed. "Why don't you?"

Her mentor's smile was gentle, but forced. "I'm sorry, girlie…never mind. I love your mom. There's just…there's history, and hurting and…it's just a little hard."

She sighed, irritated. "I'm guessing you're not going to explain any of that, either."

Haley just looked at her, sympathetic but unyielding. "Open that up and have a read. Let's do this thing, alright? It's going to be amazing."


Lucas closed his eyes, letting the sun's rays beat down on his face. He was almost too hot, but not quite there yet, and it was a good feeling.

He and Lindsay were lounging on Adirondack chairs on the roof of the eight-story building that housed the offices of the publishing group she worked for. He enjoyed spending time with Lindsay as friends rather than author and editor. Brooke insisted that Lindsay had a crush on him, but he didn't believe that. They were friends, nothing more. They just happened to have reached a point of ultimate comfort. When Lindsay wasn't nagging him, he felt as though he was taking a quick vacation from everyday life. It was a break in which everything just seemed so easy and relaxing. And as a bonus, Lindsay could recognize his emotions and thoughts more easily than he himself could, so he always left feeling a little clearer about things.

"You look calm. Untroubled."

Lucas smiled without opening his eyes. "But you're going to trouble me, aren't you?"

"I just need honesty from you, Lucas. You need to tell me if you can write another novel. And if you can, you need to start meeting some deadlines."

"I know," he replied quietly, squinting as he opened his eyes.

"I want this for you – for both of us – so badly, but I can only do so much. Be straight with me, Luke. What's the verdict?"

Lucas sat upright, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Listen, Linds…I've been thinking about what you said, about seeking out my inspiration again."

She lifted her eyebrows, silently asking And?

"And you were right. As always," he added with a playful roll of his eyes. "I don't know what it is, but when I find it again, it'll click. And I feel like it's right where I've never thought to look. I think I'll find it at home."

Lindsay nodded sagely. "If you think that…and if you really feel it…then you'll find it there."

He chanced a small smile and cautiously asked, "What're you saying?"

"Two weeks, Luke. That's all I can buy, okay? At the end of those weeks, you have got to give me something."

"I hope I'll be able to," he sighed.

"Me, too," she agreed, a bit sadly.

"Hey. Linds. No matter what…you'll always be a big part of me. You had faith in my book when no one else did."

She rewarded his words with a gentle smile. "Your book deserved it. Now go home, find that elusive muse of yours, and write another. I don't want this to come to goodbye. But if it does…your book was my first; you'll always be a big part of me, too."

"Thank you, Lindsay. For everything."

"Don't let me down, Luke."

He nodded. "Y'know…something makes me think I really won't."


"Mo-om! You here?"

"My room!" Peyton called back, wiping pale green paint off of her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt.

Jenny appeared in the doorway, wearing a bright smile that automatically made the corners of Peyton's lips tug up as well.

"Hey, sweet thing," Peyton greeted her daughter fondly, teasingly. "What do you think?" she asked, pointing over her shoulder at the painting she'd just done on her wall.

"It's gorgeous," Jenny said earnestly. "All ethereal fairyland. A little more lighthearted than I'd ever expect from you…"

"Brat," she reprimanded her daughter lightly.

"But it's beautiful, Mom, seriously. Did you have fun at lunch with Brooke?"

She shrugged. "I have a good time, yeah…such a good time that I'm going to take what you just said as a compliment," she added, dipping her fingertips into the paint and flicking it at her daughter. "But never mind me – look at you, all smiles. Does that happiness come from your music…or from you boy?" she asked slyly.

"What boy?" Jenny demanded quickly, her cheeks pink.

Peyton chuckled. "Please, Jenny. You underestimate me. Now tell me the dirt." She wiped the paint off of her fingers and sat down at the foot of her bed, patting the space next to her.

Jenny bounced over to join her. "I had an awesome day at the studio. Haley's so amazing and helpful, and kind and funny…"

"I know Haley, sweetie," Peyton said with a smirk, "and I don't need a rundown of her personality traits. I'm glad you two have hit it off, and I'm glad that you're making progress with your music. I'm very proud of you, Jen. Now are you going to tell me about the guy or what?"

The fourteen-year-old tapped her feet impatiently. "I don't feel like talking right now; I want to move. I have all this extra energy."

"I see that. Okay. Just give me ten seconds of your attention, please?"

Jenny nodded, sitting still, though energy still radiated off of her.

"What's his name?"

"Jordan Lynd."

"How old is he?"

"Seventeen."

Peyton made a face at the age difference, but decided to let it go for the time being. If Jenny was anything like her father – and she definitely was – she possessed a kind of infinite maturity. "He's good to you?"

"We aren't dating or anything, Mom," Jenny corrected her bashfully.

"But he's a good guy?"

"Yeah."

"Baby, I trust you and your judgments but be careful, okay? Love is wonderful, but you're still a kid, and it can hurt. Give yourself time for all of that."

"I know. I will," Jenny assured her softly.

"Okay, you spaz," Peyton said with a light laugh, ending the conversation. "What do you want to do?"

Jenny bit down on her lower lip, her eyes sparkling. "Get changed, okay? Active stuff. I want us to go somewhere."


"Hey, how'd you find this place?"

Jenny looked over at her mother, smiling at the wonderment she saw in Peyton's eyes. Peyton looked particularly alive that night, and Jenny understood the feeling. It was good, it was nice, it was freeing.

"I ran here the other night and just kind of stumbled across it," she explained. "And Jordan and I have hung out here a couple times. Did you not know about it or something?"

Peyton's eyes were far away. "The total opposite. This place had a lot of meaning for my friends and I back in high school." She paused. "I'm glad you found it, Jen. It seems right for you to be here."

She grinned at the praise. "Thanks. I love that it's right on the river. It feels…grounded. I feel like I belong here somehow."

Her mother's arms wrapped around her from behind. She felt Peyton's lips press against the crown of her head. "You do," she said firmly. "You belong." She snatched the basketball out of Jenny's hands and attempted to twirl it on a single finger. She giggled when she failed. "So, what…did you bring me here to kick my ass in a game?"

Jenny giggled, too, putting on her most innocent face. "Not specifically…but since you're offering…"

Peyton took a shot, and amazing, actually made the basket. "Oh!" she cheered, lifting her arms in triumph.

"Fluke!" Jenny declared immediately.

Her mom caught her rebound, laughing. "Game on, babe."


Lucas threw his bag into the back of his car. Everything seemed crystal clear to him again, but he wasn't entirely sure what everything was, and he felt restless. He missed his family, but he wasn't ready to go home. He felt refreshed, but he didn't yet have the courage to sit down and attempt to write again. A trip to the river court was what he needed, he thought. To let out his stress, and to allow him some time to revel in his own clarity.

It was late enough that the roads were free of traffic, and he coasted to the court without setting eyes on another soul. He parked in a nearby cluster of trees and grabbed the basketball he always kept in the backseat.

Through the branches of the trees, he saw the court already had light streaming down noto it. He frowned, wondering who could be invading his sacred space so late at night. Girlish giggles found their way to his ears, and he groaned internally. He didn't want to have to encounter high school jerks messing around to impress their girlfriends.

He ventured to the court all the same, and was surprised by what he found. A pair of blondes engaged in a playful game of ball, laughing as they tried to steal that ball from one another with little success. There was something eerily familiar about them both, and he froze.

The younger one of the two was facing him, and she halted as they made eye contact, scowling in confusion. Something about her eyes struck Lucas powerfully as some sort of blast from the past.

The taller of the two's laugher faded, but her amusement was still clear in her voice as she gently asked, "What?" and whirled around, brushing her hair out of her face. Her expression fell into something indefinable when she saw what.

Lucas suspected that his face did the same. He swore he stopped breathing for a moment.

Peyton Sawyer stood in front of him.

Peyton Sawyer.

The years had been more than kind to her. She was as, if not more, beautiful than she'd been when he used to know her. Her green eyes twinkled enticingly at him from within her slightly sweaty face, full of surprise and hesitant happiness. Her hair was longer, a little less curly, but he was sure it still would have felt as good to run his fingers through the blonde strands. She was wearing a soft-looking purple sweater that he wanted to reach out and touch, to tug her over to him gently by her clothing. From beneath her black shorts, her legs went on forever, just as appealing to Lucas as they'd ever been.

He wanted to speak, but both his heart and mind were too full. He was feeling too much. He had too much to say.

So it was Peyton who broke the thick silence, with a disbelieving, emotion-packed whisper.

"Luke," she breathed.

That single sweet syllable floated through the air until it settled on Lucas' lips, and he couldn't believe how long it had been since he had tasted something so very good.

A/N:Okay, so I lead you on and cheated and stuck it in at the very end of the chapter...but next time there will be honest-to-god L/P, and lots of it. Review please!