Soon Enough

A/N: This is a Brooke and Lucas season 5 fic. It is based loosely on spoilers (mainly in the introduction). I wrote this mainly for the girls over at FF who are absolutely agonizing over the spoilers we have been given. This is a treat for them :)

Please read and review.

Prologue

Just as Long as We're Together

2009

He doesn't want to be here. Not an ounce of him wants to spend the entirety of the evening talking to boring, rich publishers. The majority of him wants to escape back to his hotel room, turn on a movie on pay-per-view, and go to sleep.

A small portion of him want to get drunk.

But no. Instead he is stuck in a Penthouse in Lower Manhattan, with wall-to-wall windows overlooking the Hudson River, and the glimmering lights of Jersey City. And the bar is all the way across the room. He doesn't feel like braving the crowd for a scotch.

"Lucas!"

He turns. It's Lindsay, an editor he met a few days ago, pushing her way through the hordes of people, a martini in her hand.

"Hey," he says, half-heartedly greeting her.

"I just finished!" she squeals excitedly. She had been halfway through his first novel when he met her. Her company was considering signing him, and she seemed especially excited to meet him. "The ending was absolutely amazing."

He smiles somewhat sheepishly. In his opinion, the ending had been boring, generic. Too happy for his liking. And now he knows happy endings don't really exist.

"But I have to ask," she continues dramatically. "Do the 'Lucas and Peyton' in real life live happily ever after?" she asks, cocking her eyebrow.

When he had begun to write his first book in high school, he hadn't bothered changing character names. He still can't exactly decipher whether the book is a novel or a memoir. Though written in they style of fiction, he can't pick out many moments in the book that he made up.

He shrugs. "Who knows?" Because, truthfully, even he doesn't.

She sighs, disappointed. She had wanted some scoop on Lucas' real life story, he could tell. "Anyway, there's someone here looking for you. Brooke something or other."

His mood picks up immediately, and simultaneously he hears a squeal.

"Lucas!" The brunette is bursting out of the crowd, ignoring the whispers and looks of recognition that follow her. She envelops him in a hug.

He is genuinely happy to see her. "Brooke! I can't believe you came!"

She cocks her eyebrow in a way that makes Lindsay's attempt seem childish. "You don't think I would miss out on your book-launching party? Where's Peyton? I've been looking for both of you for like 15 minutes."

His smile fades. "She – uh – couldn't make it."

Brooke look confused, but realizes he wants to drop the subject. Lindsay clears her throat.

"Oh!" Lucas snaps out of his thoughts and turns to Lindsay. "Lindsay, this is my…" he tries to find a word that will correctly define a relationship that could have a novel written about it "friend, Brooke Davis."

Lindsay extends her arm to Brooke as cameras turn their attention away from Lucas, and on to Brooke. He can already see the headlines tomorrow as flashes blind him.

Brooke Davis Finds Companionship in Newly Discovered Novelist

But the tabloids will never know the whole story.

Either Lindsay lives under a rock, or simply is unfazed that she is standing next to a woman who has become a household name in less than a year. Brooke Davis isn't in stores everywhere. Brooke Davis now own and designs a high fashion clothing line that matches those of Mark Jacobs, Carolina Herrera. Her line makes its home at an elite shop on Fifth Avenue. Kate Moss and Giselle Bündchen regularly model her clothing at high-ranking fashions shows in London and Paris.

Yet Brooke Davis isn't any different.

Lindsay has disappeared in search of a refill, and Brooke is now attempting to fend off the paparazzi that have somehow weaseled their way into the party.

"Hey," he says, bending down to talk to her over the noise. "You wanna' get out of here?" he asks, speaking on an impulse.

Brooke looks around. "Luke, this is your publishing party."

The nickname takes him back to high school and right now they are no longer 20, grown up much too quickly, but 17, young and carefree.

"That doesn't mean I want to be here."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Brooke's apartment is on Park Avenue and 72nd street, and they stop there first, Brooke eager to change out of her formal attire.

"Wow," he breathes as they step off the elevator. His entire apartment in Tree Hill could probably fit in her living room. She blushes as he takes in the grandness of it.

"I just bought it a few months ago. But it's not really me."

He's puzzled. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "It doesn't feel very homey. I was living in a loft in Tribeca for a year, which I loved, but my mom took one look at it and practically forced me to move. She told me that Downtown is for the struggling artists, uptown is for the high-end designers."

Lucas laughs. "I don't think anyone living in Tribeca is struggling."

Brooke rolls her eyes. "My mom, believe it or not, has very old-fashion beliefs about New York. She's still convinced you can't anywhere alone without getting mugged. That's why she takes a limo everywhere."

"Wait...your mom lives here?"

Brooke smile falters slightly. "Yeah." She beckons him into a bedroom that lies off of the living room, and walks into a massive walk-in closet. "She moved here about a year ago. I don't know why she and my dad don't get a trial separation." Brooke is rummaging through shelves of shoes, and Lucas can tell, from the different pitch and tone of her voice, that Brooke is still just as sensitive about her relationship with her parents as she used to be.

"Are you guys getting along."

"I don't really have a choice. She leant me some money when I first dropped out of FIT. Said that I just needed a push to get me going. And I've long since paid her back, but I still feel like I owe her for getting my career going, you know?"

Lucas nods. "So in what way is she a part of your life."

"She's kind-of my advisor. Un-officially at least. She helps me deal with money and expenses and the logistics of everything. She's actually been a lot of help I guess it's from years of balancing my dad's checkbook."

Brooke pulls a green halter dress from her closet and smiles, satisfied. She looks to Lucas. "Do you mind?" she asks softly, nodding to the bedroom door.

Lucas obliges, leaving Brooke to change as he waits in the foyer.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"I don't believe for a second that you come hear all the time," Lucas mutters as they sit down at the bar. The bar itself is not so much a bar, as it is a pub. A greasy bartender wipes the counter. Basketball highlights play as loud middle-aged men jeer at the television set.

Brooke laughs. "I don't. I learned my lesson after being felt up a thousand times by guys thinking I was a hooker. More often than not, I was wearing jeans."

Lucas laughs, a little unsure as to whether she's joking or not.

"There's this place on Lexington that has amazing food. But Lenny mixes the best drinks here," she says, gesturing to the bartender who gives her a friendly wave. "I figure drinks before dinner is the only way to go."

He smiles.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

When they reach the restaurant, there are no free tables, so they have to sit at the bar anyway. Lucas asks Brooke why she doesn't just use her name to get them a table. She shoots him a surprised look as they take their seats at the bar.

"I don't think a couple deserves getting their table taken away just because I want it."

Lucas wants to slap himself, as he realizes Brooke isn't the kind of person to use her fame to her advantage. In fact, he's beginning to get the vibe that maybe to her, the fame was more of a burden than a blessing.

"So," she says after a few minutes, stabbing her salad with her fork. "Where is Peyton?"

He shrugs. "I guess, things aren't really going so well."

She sighs. "Come on, you guys have had rough patches before. I'm sure you'll work things out." She doesn't exactly sound reassuring as she stares into her martini.

Lucas shakes his head. "I don't think so. Not this time."

"Well, if you guys were having problems, I really hope you didn't give her an ultimatum. Trust me, I know from experience, there is no better way to paralyze a girl."

He protests. "I didn't." And he teeters on the edge of telling her exactly what happened, or simply letting it pass. He decides on the latter. "How many times has she called you since you left LA?"

Brooke's mood immediately changes, and she mumbles something about them both being busy. "It's not her fault."

Lucas sighs. "I was going to propose."

"What?" Brooke's head snaps up in disbelief.

"Yeah," he nods. "I don't really know what I was thinking. I mean, we're only 20. I guess, I just saw her slipping away, and felt like that was the only real way to hold on."

"A ring doesn't solve anything, Lucas. Just ask my parents." There is a long pause. Then she speaks again. "Why didn't you?"

"I realized it was a stupid decision."

Brooke nods. "Look, Lucas. I'm happy for you and Peyton. But I honestly don't think marriage is going to solve anything."

"It doesn't matter anyway. She still broke up with me."

Brooke sighs, watching as Lucas hangs his head moodily. "You know what? We should get drunk." He looks up. "Really really drunk."

He smiles. She sounded like the old Brooke when she said that. She holds up a finger to signal the bartender and then looks to Lucas. "Can I see the ring?" She asks, hesitantly.

Lucas shrugs, why not? He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out the box. She opens it and puts a hand to her heart. "It's beautiful," she breathes.

"Congratulations!" comes a booming voice from across the bar. Both Brooke and Lucas look up, confused. The bartender is clapping his hands loudly, and soon the whole restaurant joins in. It isn't until two glasses of champagne "on the house" are placed in front of them, that they look to the ring, and look to the drinks, and look to the clapping restaurant, that they realize what has happened.

Everyone thinks they're engaged.

Lucas immediately looks at Brooke. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, and she nods to the free champagne.

Why not, both their looks read, as Brooke slips the ring onto her finger.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"My mom would totally kill me if she knew I was in central park alone at night," Brooke giggles, as she stumbles a little along the path.

"What are you, twelve?" Lucas' booming laugh fills the silence of the park as they emerge at the entrance on 59th street.

"Shut up!" She punches him in the shoulder. "If it wasn't for my genius plan, we would have never gotten free drinks al over the city."

"Your genius plan? I believe the idea was mine."

Brooke scoffs playfully.

"Well, Mrs. Lucas Scott, where to now?" His words are only half-slurred and he can't be more than a little tipsy

Before Brooke can answer, a horse-drawn carriage driver calls out to them.

"Hello? You folks need a ride?" They turn and Brooke sighs.

"It's so romantic," she says, half joking, half serious. The entire evening has been something out of the Twilight Zone. The fake engagement seems oddly out of place, and at the same time, strangely right. Brooke, for the first time in a long time, feels safe. And then, of course, she has to remind herself that this is all just a clever ruse to get free drinks. None of this means anything.

Lucas helps her into the carriage and she throws the blanket over them both.

"So, what are you two lovebirds up to this evening?"

"Actually – " Brooke starts to speak, but Lucas interrupts her.

"We just got engaged."

The cabbie turns in his seat. "Well, congratulations! You two deserve a free ride."

Both Brooke and Lucas are shocked by their good luck. They smile at each other, and settle back to enjoy the ride.

"So what are your plans for the future?" the cabbie asks, making conversation.

The two turn to each other, with no choice but to play along. Brooke speaks first, her eyes never leaving Lucas'. "Well, I see us as a power couple."

"But, of course we'll still have time for a big family," continues Lucas, smiling back at her. "I'll coach little league, and she'll bake cookies for the team. We'll spend summers on the beach – "

" – and winters in South France," Brooke finishes.

"But," Lucas gives her a soft smile. "It won't matter as long as we're together."

"That's the key," the cabbie responds gruffly. "Having someone to love and having them love you back. Love is what it's all about."

Brooke and Lucas share a look. They both agree.