Poker Face

Lucas looks around nervously, seated stiffly on a bar stool as he fiddles with the laminate on his first ever fake ID.

Of course, it was Brooke who brought him here. She bounced into Peyton's room only three hours ago and invited them both to go out to a new bar just outside of town. Peyton had to go take care of Jenny, leaving Lucas to go alone with the vixen.

"Have you been caught, yet?" Lucas jumps and turns to glare at a laughing Brooke. When she'd originally proposed that they go to a bar, he immediately pointed out that they couldn't go because they weren't 21. Brooke giggled uncontrollably for a solid 5 minutes before promising him that she'd take care of it.

"I really don't think I look like a Henry." he says with distaste.

She smiles. "Are you saying I look like a Gretchen?" she wiggles her eyebrows. Lucas smiles and shakes his head.

"Come on. I want to corrupt you before I hand you back to Peyton." She pulls him towards the pool table and they spend a few minutes playing before something catches Brooke's attention.

She gasps. "Is that a smile? Is Lucas Scott actually having fun doing something illegal?"

He frowns. "I have fun."

She tilts her head back and laughs loudly. Lucas allows himself to appreciate the gesture, enjoying the way her body bubbles with laughter.

"Lucas, come on, you're like the most serious guy I've ever met. It's why you and P. Sawyer are so good together."

He frowns, wondering why he feels a bit of disappointment at this realization. He'd always felt that being with Peyton Sawyer would bring about some sort of change in his life...make him happier, feeling more fulfilled. But these past few months have felt more or less the same as they've always been.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

"Could we get something stronger?"

Brooke's eyes shoot up in astonishment, before a smirk morphs to reveal her dimples. Lucas recognizes the look: she's impressed.

"I'll see what I can do."

He watches her make her way to the bar, noting how every guy's heads seemed to turn towards her out of their own accord. He hears a group of guy hoot at her from one of the tables, one of them grabbing her ass as she walks by. Lucas frowns, suddenly enraged, and gets up intent on teaching the man a lesson about respecting women. But he stops when he sees Brooke turn towards him with a calm face. She leans into him, and Lucas finds himself disgusted, and just a little disappointed in her. He watches as she flips her hair and bends down further and pressing her cheek to his. She whispers something, and Lucas can tell the others can't hear as they hoot along with her. Suddenly, the boy jerks up, straightening with fearful rigidity as Brooke pulls back and stares at him straight in the eyes. The other boys at the table seem to quiet, recognizes the tension that suddenly encircled the two. Another second, and Brooke smiles unsympathetically, before sauntering her way over to her original destination.

Lucas sees the boy linger at the table, ignoring the appreciative hoopla of his friends about the event. A few seconds pass before he suddenly jumps out of the seat and storms out, slamming the door behind him.

Lucas—along with the boys at the table—continues to stare in shock at the exit where he was last seen. His shock is interrupted by his companion's return.

"Try this," her raspy voice encourages, placing a tiny cup of clear liquid in front of him. "It's not as strong as it could be, but you have to build up your resistance to the stuff, first."

Lucas stares at her with suspicion.

"What'd you say to that guy?"

She shrugs and drowns her alcohol in one gulp.

"I know a secret he'd rather not share with others."

Lucas' eyebrows shoot up.

"What kind of secret?"

Brooke grins. "If I told you that, it wouldn't be a 'secret'."

Lucas nods and fingers his cup, a thought playing at the back of his mind.

"Do you do that often? Use other's secrets against them?"

She shrugs again. "When it suits me."

He looks away then sighs. "You shouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Manipulate people the way you do."

She quirks her eyebrows. "Are you saying he didn't deserve it?"

Lucas thinks over this for a second. He wouldn't say that. In fact, part of him admires the way Brooke was able to hold her own. But another part of him knows it's not always the case.

"Do all your victims deserve it?"

The corner of her mouth quirks upwards. "Victims?"

"You know what I mean."

She finally lets out a laugh, tossing her head back to reveal a long, lean neck that he's never bothered to notice before, but now can't stop himself from staring at.

"Broody, you're adorable." He rolls his eyes and looks away. "Okay, okay. So maybe they don't all deserve it. But how else am I supposed to get what I want?"

"Maybe you just need to learn that you can't always get what you want."

She stares at him for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face, but doesn't say anything.

"You gonna drink that?" She asks, nodding to the forgotten shot held in his hand.

Lucas looks at the clear crystal in his hand, swirling it around and watching as the liquid splashes dangerously close to the edge. He brings it up to his mouth, but hesitates before taking a drink. Looking up at Brooke, he catches her eyes and sees her give an encouraging nod. He takes a deep breath and gulps.

He coughs violently. He didn't expect it to be so bitter, and the burning sensation in his throat is so uncomfortable and painful that just for a second he feels he might pass out.

A hand pats his back softly, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He looks to the source of comfort to find a pair of twinkling green-hazel orbs trying desperately to contain their laughter.

"Like I said, adorable."