Author's note: Thanks to everyone reading and especially those who take time to review. Skylove, AngelOfDeath07,Ashtondene, coconut16, Leijona, lafonda2977, othisluv, andMarissa Davis, you guys make me want to keep writing. Any feedback is welcome and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.

Immediately following the basketball game, Karen Roe returned to the café she'd owned and operated for the past 16 years. Thursday evenings, up until around midnight, were always good for business, and she couldn't afford to pass it up any longer than she had to.

She hummed a quiet tune as she made a fresh pot of coffee, the night's events fresh in her mind. She smiled. It hadn't started off so well; Lucas had been struggling with his game, not to mention his self-esteem, again, but those last seconds of the game had utterly altered his entire demeanor. It was a welcome change to the past few weeks, to see that smile on her son's face.

Yet she was worried too. With one simple gesture, Nathan had given Lucas not only a chance to score a few points, but also a renewed hope of developing a kinship between them. He hadn't said so, but Karen knew that if Nathan should decide to give brotherhood a chance, her son would forgive all of his past transgressions against him.

But the question was; was Nathan willing to try? She had her doubts. Despite the unexpected pass on the court, Nathan didn't seem inclined to build any sort of rapport outside of the game. That's what troubled her. Lucas would get his hopes up – again, and be disappointed – again.

––––––––––

Mouth sat in Jimmy's living room, as they watched and listened to all the footage they'd taken at tonight's game. They both dreamed of being sports announcers one day and they had all the high tech equipment to gain some experience with – purchased with the money they'd earned over the summer from their part time jobs.

After a while, they turned down the volume of the television, and began giving their own commentaries of the game and players. They kept their comments professional and neutral, leaving personal opinions of the players out, commenting on their athletic performance alone. As they did so, their love and appreciation for the sport shined through, and they knew that when the time came to do this as a real job, a career, they'd be ready.

––––––––––

Dan Scott watched his own footage on his big screen plasma TV. A shot of whiskey in one hand, remote in the other, he replayed the last seconds of the game over and over, trying to make some sort of sense out of Nathan's unforeseen choice of action. He sighed and shook his head when he came up empty. Whichever way he looked at it, it was a foolish move on his son's part; the tie was guaranteed, the win…well, a mere stroke of luck. But it was done; there was nothing he could do about it now, except ensure that Nathan didn't pull another stupid stunt like that in the future. Emptying his glass in one last gulp, he vowed his son would never risk a game like that again. As for throwing away a scoring opportunity, tonight was definitely the last night for that.

––––––––––

Lucas laughed out loud as Haley did her own version of a victory dance. They'd played three rounds of miniature golf, on their very own private course that they'd created themselves six years ago – on the roof of Karen's Café. Haley had won all three rounds and was currently showing off shamelessly.

"I'm just tired from the basketball game," Lucas informed his friend.

"Uh huh…excuses, excuses. When are you going to just admit that I'm better than you?"

Lucas grinned widely. "When you admit that my volcano was better than yours."

Haley rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Luke, let it go already. It was third grade."

"Exactly, and after all that time, you still can't admit that mine was better."

"Yours was only better because you broke mine," Haley replied.

"Accidentally. It was crooked so I tried to straighten it. How was I supposed to know it was going to erupt?"

"Umm, because it was a volcano," Haley answered mockingly. "And that's what they do."

"Not from a simple touch," Lucas teased.

"It was sensitive, ok."

"Yeah, I'll say."

She gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Quit making fun of me…Eugene."

"Hey, you promised not to use my middle name anymore," Luke complained with mock indignity.

"In public," Haley reasoned. "We're all alone here, mister."

"Ok," Lucas said in surrender, "if I say you're better at miniature golf than me, do you promise to never call me that again?"

Haley pretended to ponder the question. "Hmm, if you also admit that my volcano would have been ten times better than yours if you hadn't destroyed it, then I promise."

"Forget it. I draw the line at golf," Lucas replied in amusement.

"Fine," Haley taunted. "Your choice, Eugene. I just hope I don't get so used to saying it, that it accidentally slips out in front of anyone, like say, Peyton Sawyer," she continued teasing. "Wouldn't that be embarrassing?"

"It might be, if she even knew my first name," Lucas replied. "She doesn't even know I'm alive, let alone care what my middle name is."

"She's dating Nathan. I'm sure she knows about you."

"Yeah, as Nathan's bastard brother maybe, not as Lucas."

"Just you wait, Mr. basketball star. Winning the game for the team is bound to bring all the snobs out of the woodworks," Haley said, putting her nose in the air for emphasis.

Lucas chuckled at his friend's exaggeration. "I can't exactly take credit for winning the game when I only scored five points."

"If it weren't for those five points, you would have lost by four, so you can. Besides, you scored the last shot, so you totally get bragging rights."

"But Nathan…"

"Scored a bunch of points, blah blah yadda yadda," Haley finished, knowing what he was thinking. "But he didn't make the winning shot. You did."

"Only because…"

"Luke, just go with it, ok? Ok", she answered for him.

Lucas chuckled. "All right, if you say so."

"It's about time you take me seriously."

"So, you really think Peyton's a snob?" Luke asked curiously.

"Uh, yeah. Her and Brooke Davis, and the rest of their crew, strutting around, in their tiny, little skirts, like they're the best thing since sliced bread, thinking all the guys want them…"

"They do," Lucas interrupted with a smile.

"Well yeah, no wonder. Their skirts are so short, all the pervs are staring, hoping they bend over so they can get a free show."

Lucas looked down sheepishly. He was one of the many who stared.

"Yes, that includes you," Haley said teasingly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you gawking at Peyton's legs."

"You mean like you were earlier, with Nathan?" he questioned lightly.

"Oh please," she said dismissively. "As toned and muscular as his legs are, if I'm taking time to gawk, then these eyes are taking in the whole beautifully sculpted package, baby."

Lucas shook his head. "So how long has my best friend been drooling over my little brother without my knowledge?"

"Umm, beginning of high school," she admitted hesitantly. "Since the first time I saw him," she added.

"So, over two years?" he asked, remembering the first time she'd actually seen his brother. She'd heard plenty about him before that, but prior to high school, they'd gone to different schools.

"Yeah. I always thought he was hott, but last week when I was watching you guys practice after my tutoring session, he took off his shirt, and I swear I literally had to pick up my tongue off the floor, because..."

"Ok, I get it," Lucas said with a small chuckle, surprised and somewhat uncomfortable by her admission. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know. I didn't want you to get mad. Besides, as I said in the gym, I don't like him, like him. Yeah, he's cute, but he's a total ass. And not just to you either, to a lot of people. I heard last month he beat up a guy for asking Peyton to a movie."

Lucas shrugged. "A little extreme, but if this guy knows Peyton's got a boyfriend, then he has no business asking her out."

"He still didn't deserve to get beat up. She turned him down, that should have been enough," Haley stated firmly. "Besides, maybe it was during one of their 'breakups'," she continued, using air quotes and putting emphasis on the last word. "Apparently they're famous for those."

"So I've heard," Lucas replied. "But they always get back together too," he added, thinking of the bets that had circled around concerning just that. He hadn't been asked to participate, but he'd heard the guys talking about it just the same. He told Haley about it when she noticed his mind had wandered.

"Are you serious?" she asked. "If I was Peyton, I'd be totally pissed."

Lucas gave her a confused look. "Why?"

"Uh, because her supposed friends are making light of her relationship when she's probably already upset that they broke up in the first place," she told him, as if it were completely obvious.

Lucas lifted his shoulders. He didn't see the big deal. "But only Peyton should be pissed? Not Nathan? They're his friends too."

"Yeah, but he's a guy, and they're always clueless," she answered with a dismissive wave.

"Hello, guy here," Luke pointed out.

"I'm aware of your gender, Luke, and no, I don't take it back," she said with a smile.

"Ok, then," he said, accepting defeat. "So how's tutoring going?"

"It would be great if my latest student would stop hitting on me."

"Oh, that sucks. Anyone I know?"

"Probably, he's on the basketball team. Damien West?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, I know him. He's a jackass. Good friends with Nathan."

"Well, that explains it."

"Yeah," Lucas agreed.

––––––––––

Nathan shoved his hands into his pants pockets, as he waited for some sort of reply from his girlfriend. Peyton hadn't yet responded verbally, but judging by the angry glare she shot him, his opening remark was clearly the wrong approach.

When she'd first arrived home, the first thing Peyton had done was put on some old clothes to tackle the mess they'd made of the oven. Then she'd taken out her latest sketch, the one she'd drawn during last period, and hung it on her bedroom wall among the others. This one showed a man and woman, standing back to back, arms crossed, in the center of a wrestling ring. The man had an obvious smirk on his face, but the woman was frowning. All around them were betting tables, where random figures were placing their bets. One woman stood out among the crowd, and she was drawn at each table, racking in her winnings, with a huge, satisfied grin plastered on her face.

At first Peyton just froze in disbelief at Nathan's outrageous, sexual overtone, unable to even form a thought, let alone a reply. Of all the things she'd expected her boyfriend to say, that wasn't one of them. But it shouldn't have surprised her really; he always had sex, in any form, on the brain.

"Peyton…" he began, ready to apologize for his stupidity, but she cut him off furiously.

"You seriously did not just ask me for a blowjob!" she spat.

"Uh, no, not seriously," Nathan tried redeeming himself. "Well, unless you wanted to…" he couldn't resist adding, kicking himself as soon as her eyes darkened with rage.

But he almost couldn't help himself. She was so damn sexy when she was angry. Well she was always sexy, but even more so when she was all fired up and ready for battle. Those gorgeous green eyes of hers practically bore a hole through him, as she stared him down.

"If I wanted to!" she shouted, standing up to face him directly. "You mean you want me to!"

Nathan looked down at his shoes. What could he say? It's not like he'd object if things proceeded in that direction.

Peyton took his silence as an admission and it made her twice as angry. "Trust me, you'd get no pleasure from that right now. But if you really want to take that chance, then fine, I'll do it," she said, coming closer to him. "You weren't planning on ever having kids anyway, right?" she added in a threatening tone.

Nathan visibly flinched and backed away from her. Ok, so maybe he would object.

"What's the problem? It's what you want, isn't it?" she taunted harshly. "So what are you waiting for? Pull the little guy out and let's get this over it."

Quickly recovering his bearings, Nathan smirked and said the first thing that came to his mind. "Little? That's not what you said last night, or this morning even." Clearly his mouth was working faster than his brain.

"Unbelievable!" Peyton screamed in irritation. "Ok, we're done here," she said, her voice lowered, but still angry. "Go home, Nathan."

"I just got here," Nathan pointed out.

"You shouldn't have come. Sorry you wasted your time."

"We're supposed to clean the oven. Together," he replied, using any excuse to stay.

"Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Babe…"

"Just go."

Under normal circumstances, he would have gone when she told him to, but then again, normally he knew the reason she was kicking him out; sometimes it was just a minor issue she had, but usually it was because he'd messed up in some manner. Either way she always needed time to herself to clear her head. He understood this about her and always gave her that time. He would do so again today, but not until she told him why she was mad at him.

"Peyton, what's this about? What did I do?"

"Like you don't know!"

"I don't."

"Well, why don't you think about it on your way home?"

Was she kidding? He'd been thinking about it for hours, wondering what he'd done wrong, and he got nowhere. Did she really think the ten-minute drive home would clear things up for him? "Why don't you just tell me?"

"Why don't you get a clue, for once?" she said sarcastically. Did she really have to spell everything out to him every time?

"Why don't you give me one?" he replied in the same harsh tone.

They both remained silent for a while, just staring at each other. Nathan sighed. He didn't want to do this. Things had been going well for them the last few days and he wanted to hold on to that a little longer.

"I'm sorry, Peyton," he said, reaching out for her. "Ok, babe? I'm sorry."

Peyton pulled away and let out a frustrated groan. "Well, if that doesn't tell me how practiced and routine your apologies have become, then I guess nothing will."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked in confusion.

She rolled her eyes. "You really gonna stand there and play dumb?"

"Peyton, I don't know what you want me to say." He was really getting aggravated too. "I said I'm sorry. What else can I do?"

"You can mean it," she told him simply.

"I do mean it."

"Really? What are you sorry for?"

"What?"

"You heard me. If it's for the lame jokes, then ok, I accept your apology."

"Not just for that. For all of it."

"All of what?"

"All of this."

"But you just said that you don't know what this is about," she pointed out.

"I don't," he admitted.

"Then how can you be sorry for it? How can you apologize without knowing what you're apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that whatever I did upset you," he cleared up.

"Right," she said dully. "Nice save."

"Ok, you know what, fuck it! You want to be a bitch, fine! I'll go," he said seething, as he headed toward the door. He'd had enough of her dancing around the real issue. "Call me when you're not so PMS."

"Un-fucking-believable!" Peyton hollered, her own outrage reaching new heights at his latest comment. "You think that's what this is about?" She didn't care so much that he'd called her a bitch. It wasn't the first time; she doubted it would be the last. Besides, she'd called him every name in the book at some point or another.

"Considering you're being all cryptic about it, then my only option is to come up with my own conclusions, so yeah, that's what I think," he told her angrily.

"Are you kidding? You really don't know what this is about?"

He walked back over to her, expecting she was about to tell him. "I have no idea, Peyton. At first I thought it was because of the bet, but then that makes no sense."

"Really? Everyone making a joke out of our problems? It makes no sense to be offended by that?"

"No, I get that. You're mad at Brooke, whatever. I just don't know why you'd be pissed off at me for it," he said. "It's not like I was in on it. I just found out about it from Tim."

"I know, but you think it's all a big joke too," Peyton told him. "I don't get what's so amusing about our friends gambling on our relationship."

"So, if I was mad at them, we'd be fine? That's what you're saying?"

She didn't respond. When he put it that way, she felt stupid for even thinking along those lines. But why not be a little offended? Why did he take it so lightly?

"Look, Peyton," Nathan started to say, "I don't really see the big deal. That's why I'm not pissed off about it. It's not like they broke us up, or they bet we wouldn't last. They bet on us getting back together."

"I know!" Peyton shot out, furious all over again. "They bet on when we'd be together again. I can just hear them now… 'how long will it take poor, pathetic Peyton to take him back this time! Because we all know she will! How many days until she's back to being Nathan's doormat? Bets anyone'?"

She silently cursed the angry tears that were falling down her cheeks, wiping them away furiously.

Nathan felt his temper rise at her comment. He barely noticed she was crying, and he was too angry to care anyway. "Or maybe they're saying… 'how long before this fool goes crawling back to her! Because we know he will, even though she's dumped him like a million times. How many days until he's back to being Peyton's whipped dog'?"

"Actually, you're both right. There are people on both sides of the fence. But most of us are just saying… 'how long can they stay away from each other? Because we know they can't. How many days until they both realize they're lost without the other'?"

Both Nathan and Peyton turned to face the intruder.

Brooke.