DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Fighting Talk
By LIP
It was the thumping of feet across the hall that first alerted Mike and Jane. They looked up at the ceiling, the source of the noise, and then to each other. A definite 'here we go again' look appeared on their faces followed by an uncomfortable shift out of their entwined hug on the sofa. Sighing, they heard the first round kick into action.
"My God, is nothing safe around your boney little hands?" Sam shouted, having barged into Brooke's bedroom.
"Hey!" Brooke exclaimed, swinging her legs off the bed and jumping up, switching to 'Fight Mode' within an instant of Sam's unannounced arrival. "Do you not know how to utilise a door?"
"Do you not know the meaning of other people's property?" Sam retorted, hands on hips, staring pointedly at the sweater tied around Brooke's waist.
"I'm just borrowing it." Brooke protested.
"It's mine!" Sam yelled, outraged.
"Hence the word borrowed!" Brooke yelled back.
"You took it out of my closet and are wearing it without asking." Sam pronounced every word deliberately and mockingly slow to the blonde, enraging her even more.
"Get over it!" Brooke stormed.
Sam opened her mouth to tell Brooke exactly where she could go when Jane's voice cut in from behind her.
"What's all this about?"
Sam's mouth clamped shut, her arms folding across her chest, not realising Brooke had adopted the same position.
"Well?" Mike prompted from his wife's side.
"She's got my sweater." Sam finally mumbled, pointing an accusing finger at the said item of clothing. Both Mike and Jane sighed at the futileness.
"Brooke, give Sam back her sweater." Mike said wearily.
Brooke sulkily pulled it from her waist and near enough threw it into Sam's waiting hands.
"No more of this. It can't go on." Mike said, shaking his head.
Sam stalked from the room, thunderous expression still in place, and with a knowing look between the elder two Jane followed suit while Mike pushed the door of his own daughter's room shut. Brooke couldn't meet his eyes, evading them as she sat down on her bed, not moving as he sat next to her.
"Brooke…" He began.
"I know Dad, I'm sorry." Brooke cut in.
"I mean it this time." He said. Brooke could feel his gaze even with her head bowed.
"It's not fair on us, it's not fair on Jane." He stressed his heavily pregnant wife's name.
"I know." Brooke repeated guiltily.
"What's going to happen when the baby is here? They'll be enough screaming and tantrums to go around without having them from my 17 year old daughter." Mike continued. He looked down at Brooke's sad face and couldn't help but put his arm around her.
"I know it's hard to adapt Brooke, it's been just the two of us for so long now. And the fact that you and Sam have this…thing between you is unfortunate."
"I'll try harder Daddy, I promise." Brooke pledged, meaning the words as she said them.
Mike hugged her closer, placing a quick kiss on her head as he dared to believe her.
"Do you have a pom-pom for a brain?!" Sam screeched across the kitchen.
It had lasted two days.
"Just as much as your world view comes through a computer screen!" Brooke screamed back.
"Bite me Blondie!"
"Who knows what I might catch!"
"Certainly not an STI, that's much more your domain."
"Oh I don't know, is an everlasting virginity something you can catch or just something you aspire to?"
"Ha! Everlasting virginity? You wouldn't know how to keep it for a month. Once you pop you can't stop hey!"
"ENOUGH!" Mike thundered from the doorway. Both girls immediately fell silent, shocked at the usual mild mannered man before them appearing furious.
"We can hear you half way down the street!" He wasn't shouting, though his voice was strong enough and angry enough to convey his utter fury at their behaviour. He didn't even want to think about what he'd heard them say.
"What's it about this time?" Her voice just as angry. After a brief silence, Brooke spoke.
"Sam took the last coke." She winced, even to her own ears it sounded pathetic.
"She took the last…" Mike trailed off as he shook his head in pure disbelief, a look mirrored by Jane.
"Upstairs." Mike said, the command clear in his voice.
"Both of you." Jane added, just in case Sam dared to argue.
Both girls turned and trooped up the stairs, proportioning blame on each other in mutters.
"Without talking." Mike called after them, exasperated. He placed his arms around his wife, both jumping as two doors slammed simultaneously above them.
"We have to do something." Jane murmured against his chest.
"Yes." He agreed simply. He just didn't know what.
The rest of the week passed in an uneasy silence, Sam and Brooke managed to stay out of each others way at school as well as at home, each deciding to increase their social lives in whatever kept them out of the house the longest. Mike and Jane let it slide, letting the slips in curfew go for the sake of peace and quiet in the household. But both knew it couldn't carry on.
It was Saturday morning when a sleepy, pyjama clad Brooke padded down the stairs, stifling a yawn and rubbing her mused hair. She stopped in her tracks when she spotted Sam in front of her, leaning over the island counter of the kitchen with a perplexed look on her face.
"Oh…I didn't hear you get up." Brooke mumbled.
"I didn't even hear you get in last night." Sam looked up from what she was reading. Usually this conversation could have easily spiralled into an argument, but from the tone of Sam's voice and the look on her face, Brooke guessed it wasn't about to turn nasty.
"It was a bit of a late one." She admitted, edging closer into the kitchen slowly.
Sam didn't respond, was still fixated on the piece of paper in front of her.
"What's that?" Brooke asked, eying Sam suspiciously.
"It's…" A small frown appeared over Sam's head as she tried to find the words to explain, finally giving up and pushing the note towards Brooke.
Seizing upon it quickly, Brooke scanned the paper, remarking to herself how much it looked like her father's handwriting…
To our darling daughters,
We have decided to spend the weekend away for some much needed rest and relaxation. As much as it pains us to say it, it is you that we find ourselves needing a rest from. We love the two of you to bits. Tiny, miniscule, microscopic bits. And yet we find ourselves at a loss on how to deal with the two of you when you become the very teenage stereotypes we are sure you want to distance yourselves from being associated with.
This is the proposal. There is enough food, water, diet coke, sugar, all the necessities, in the house to see you through until Monday morning. We would very much like you to disregard any previous arrangements you have made and stay in the house for the entire weekend. This is not a punishment, a grounding, this is simply a way in which that we would like you to talk and resolve any issues you find yourself having with each other. The alarm on the house is set, should you open any doors or windows, as you both know, the alarm will go off. Should you disengage the alarm, we will know from the logs. This will sadden us greatly, the fact that the two of you cannot do the one thing we have asked of you will seem very much like a slap in the face.
We ask of you one weekend. Please don't let us down.
See you Monday,
Your ever loving parents.
Brooke exhaled loudly. Sam merely nodded in agreement.
"They're crazy." She stated finally. Again, Sam nodded in agreement.
Brooke met the brunette's eyes warily. "So what should we do?"
"I guess we have two options." Sam said, having already thought it over. "We could rip that note up, unset the alarm and just deal with their 'disappointment' when they get back. Or…" She slowed.
"Or we could actually stay in this house for the whole weekend. Just the two of us." Brooke finished.
"Yep."
"They're not great options." Brooke thought aloud.
"Well I'm not too pleased about it either." Sam bit back, offended.
Brooke's eyes narrowed at Sam's tone. "How do they know we won't kill each other?"
"Maybe that's what they want. Then they only have to put up with one daughter." Sam's eyes narrowed in equal measure.
"In that case, may the best girl win." Brooke declared, before turning on her heels and marching back up the stairs.
Sam had fumed on her bed for the past few hours. What was her mother thinking? Who did Brooke think she was?
Does she think she can last me out? That I'm that weak I can't last two days in the same house without cracking? Pah! As usual, she underestimates me. Well we'll see about that, come Hell or highwater, I will last this weekend!
Across the hall in Brooke's room, the blonde was thinking along the same lines.
Stubborn ass Sam, always thinking she's better than me. Not this time. I won't be the one to let them down. Let her be the one to taste parental disappointment for once.
Brooke nodded decisively to herself, jumping as a knock on her door jolted her out of her musings.
"Come in." She answered, already suspicious. Sam hardly ever knocked, it was usually more of a burst in and start screaming thing.
"I'm going to make some dinner." Sam announced from the doorway. "Chicken fajitas ok with you?" She asked.
Brooke just blinked at her.
"It's the smoky flavour, not the spicy one." Sam added.
"Ok." Brooke managed, her voice oddly high. "That sounds great."
"I'll call you when it's ready." Sam nodded, then left the room, leaving Brooke still in a state of shock.
"Well…she's certainly pulling out all the stops." She murmured to herself.
They sat chewing in silence. Mumblings and sounds of agreement were all that had been voiced in their time together at the table.
"It's nice." Brooke finally said, pointing at her plate in case Sam didn't know what she meant.
"Thanks. It's just a packet mix." Sam responded.
They continued to chew.
"So" Sam began "Did you have any plans for this weekend?"
"A few." Brooke shrugged. "Nothing important. You?"
"Nothing set in stone. Was going to hang out with Harrison, Lily and Carm."
"Same as usual then." Brooke surmised. Sam looked up mid chew.
"And you're Miss Variety?" She asked, her voice suddenly tighter than before.
Brooke could tell she'd said the wrong thing. "I didn't mean it in a bad way. I jut meant that's what you normally do on a weekend."
"Just the same as you normally spend the weekend with Nicole and Mary Cherry talking about boys and swapping diet tips?" Sam was irked.
"As opposed to talking about the 'evil popular kids', plotting their downfalls and giving Carmen diet tips?" Brooke said spitefully, putting her fork down.
"Leave my friends out of this." Sam too put her cutlery down, and glared across the table.
"Because they always leave me out of it when you're on a crusade to ruin my life? Yeah, they never get involved." Brooke said sarcastically.
"Nicole and Mary Cherry are just patrons of virtue and innocence!" Sam yelled.
Brooke took a deep breath. "Ok, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about Carmen."
"Just because she's not as accomplished as sticking her fingers down her throat like you doesn't give you a licence to attack her." Sam carried on.
"Don't go there Sam." Brooke said darkly, her mood changing.
"You can make comments on other people but can't take it when it's aimed at you? Well isn't that just typical." Sam laughed bitterly.
"I said I was sorry!" Brooke jumped up from the table.
"You're never sorry!" The brunette exploded. "Why should you be? You're answerable to no one, Miss Queen B. You can do what ever you want with no repercussions. Well not with me." Sam said with determination.
Brooke stood in shock. "You really hate me don't you?" She whispered. Sam didn't have a chance to answer as Brooke ran from the room, locking herself in her room. Sam stood and looked at the deserted table, feeling something like regret rising inside her.
"But I don't." She murmured into the empty room.
It was almost midnight when Sam crept down the stairs so as not to wake Brooke. She was dressed for bed, seeking only a glass of water having spent the rest of her time since the disastrous dinner alone in her room listening to loud music through head phones thinking of everything she should have said differently.
"Brooke." She said in surprise, seeing her house mate sitting in the kitchen. "I thought you were in bed."
"Nope." Brooke shook her head loosely, not even looking up at Sam.
Sam looked at the bottle of vodka open on the counter and the glass in Brooke's hand.
"I guess the parentals said nothing about logging the alcohol consumption." She said lightly. Brooke remained silent. After a moment Sam reached for the bottle and poured some into her own glass, followed by some diet coke. Brooke watched her, obviously surprised, but not voicing it.
"I shouldn't have said what I did…about the eating disorder." Sam said after a time.
"I shouldn't have said what I did either." Brooke said quietly, sipping her drink.
"It sounds ridiculous now but you can talk to me about it, if you ever want to." Sam offered.
Brooke considered this. "I don't really like to." She said finally. "Talk about it that is, not specifically to you."
"I understand." Sam nodded.
"Why are we like this?" Brooke asked suddenly. "Why are we like this with each other?"
Sam looked at her drink. "It's like a law. Society demands it from us. Popular versus non popular. We just have the added complication of living together."
"So we not only make each others lives a misery, but our own parents as well?" Brooke questioned.
Sam remained silent. Why was everything so hard? Why couldn't they just be normal enemies like the kind in every other high school across the world?
"Maybe we could work on that." Sam finally said.
Brooke looked up. "What do you mean?"
"Like, when we're under this roof, when we're in the company or vicinity of them we could cool it. No matter what's happened at school that day, no matter what Mary Cherry shouts down the corridor at Lily, no matter how many times Nicole insults what I'm wearing, no matter-"
"I get the point." Brooke cut her off.
"It could work." Sam shrugged.
"I doubt it." Brooke muttered, lifting her drink to her lips.
"You don't even want to try? For them?" Sam frowned. She was going out on a limb offering some kind of resolution for the sake of her step father, her pregnant mother, and the very sake of the household and all Brooke could do was negate it?
"Don't make me out to be the bad one." Brooke said, scowling. "If you go on another one of your Jane Bond missions trying to infiltrate the cheerleading squad to unearth some no doubt huge scandal at the centre of us, slandering my name around the school, do you really expect me to come home and feign temporary amnesia?"
"I'm willing to try." Sam argued.
"I bet you are." Brooke nodded in fake enthusiasm. "You get a free reign to do whatever you like to me at school and then a carefree home life, absolved of all wrong doing? I can see how it ticks all your boxes." Brooke bitched, quickly downing her drink and standing up.
"Jesus, where do you get these pessimistic, victim tendencies from?" Sam stood too, angry, following Brooke's path to the sitting room. "Not from Mike. From your mother?"
Brooke stilled, her frame going taut at the mention of her absent mother. "Shut up Sam." She glared at her.
"No wonder she didn't stick around." Sam pushed, knowing she shouldn't.
"And your Dad would have been so proud of you." Brooke suddenly sarcastically replied.
Sam's face changed, a look of shock and hurt, and then quickly nothing. Total indifference. They continued to stand mere feet apart, both staring at each other, the air thick with tension. Sam didn't know who moved first but she knew that her hand had met Brooke's face with force, just as Brooke's had hit hers with equal measure.
"Fuck this." Sam growled, giving Brooke a look of pure hate, she turned and left the room.
Brooke felt something akin to regret in her stomach, quickly pushing it away. Wasn't she justified? Was retaliation not called for? God, she hated this feeling. Why couldn't she just have no conscience, not feel guilty at all. Clenching her hands repeatedly, she could feel the alcohol within her, warming her blood and quickening her temper. Also taking away her sense of reason. She went after Sam.
Sam was throwing some clothes into a bag, her head ablaze with things she wanted to do to the blonde, things she wanted to say, how she wanted to take her apart and watch as she crumbled.
"What are you doing?" Brooke's voice came from behind her, sounding gruffer than normal, an affect of the alcohol and all the arguing no doubt.
"Fuck you." Sam didn't even bother turning around.
"You do. Everyday." Brooke almost drawled.
Sam turned to her, eyeing the way she was slouching against the doorframe.
"Do you think I care what you have to say? That I possibly in any way want to hear your voice?"
"Yes" Brooke nodded slowly "I think you do. Because you always do Sam."
"You're crazy." Sam turned back to her packing.
"Why are you so obsessed with me? Why is it so important to try and hurt me? Why don't you just stay away?" Brooke asked.
"We live together! How can I stay away?" Sam spun around, throwing her hands out in emphasis.
"You could try!" Brooke shouted back, though there was no anger anymore. She walked a few paces further into the room. "You go out of your way to engage with me, to make things difficult and to throw us together in this fucked up cycle."
Sam was confused, she didn't have any answers. "You do it too." Sam threw back half heartedly, knowing it was a lame defence.
"I do." Brooke murmured, nodding. "I like making you react. I like seeing you all…lit up." She admitted.
Sam was suddenly at a loss. She slowly sat down on the edge of her bed, looking at the floor. It was several minutes before she spoke quietly. "I like pushing your buttons. I like knowing that I can get under your skin. Like no one else."
Brooke sat down next to her on the bed. "We've only got another year before we can leave and go to college." She mused. "If we don't kill each other by then, we'll be home free."
There was a lightness and joking tone in Brooke's voice that Sam found very refreshing after all the shouting. "I can't make any promises." She joked back, half turning to look at Brooke.
"Or we could realise why we do this to each other." Brooke caught Sam's eyes, becoming more serious.
Sam sighed. "I can't explain it." She said, defeated, aware that only half of her wanted to try. She did not want to sit there and spill her feelings to Brooke, leaving herself open and vulnerable. That was always the problem. It was all or nothing, if she couldn't share her feelings with her, try and explain them, she went the opposite way and deliberately pushed the blonde away, by any means necessary.
"I want you to like me." Brooke confessed, startling Sam. "I want you to like me, and think I'm intelligent and worthy of discussing things with, worthy of conversation. Rather than shouting matches."
"I do like you." Sam sat up straighter, turning more fully. "It sounds crazy I know, but I do like you."
"I think you may possible be the most intelligent, creative, and rounded human being I will ever know." Brooke continued. "Lets face it, after this year's up, you'll go one way and my path will go another. I'm scared that I'll…lose you."
"Brooke," Sam murmured, her fingertips connecting with Brooke's skin without her realising it herself. "We'll always know each other. We're going to have a sister in common. God that sounds weird!" Sam exhaled loudly.
"So I'll see you on some of the baby's birthdays, a once in a while Thanksgiving or Christmas. I hate thinking that this is all I'll ever get from you, our time here, our time at school. And that's not what I want."
"What do you want?" Sam asked, holding her breath without being sure why.
"More." Brooke met Sam's eyes, holding them.
"Brooke, I-" Sam's whisper was cut off as Brooke's hand cupped her face, sssh-ing her.
"I just want you to know…" Brooke trailed off as her face came ever closer to Sam's. When there was a mere millimetre left between them, it was Sam who brought the two of them together, closing the final distance and making their lips meet.
It lasted a second before they parted, pulling back fractionally to look at each other, each desperately seeking something. A look of regret, repulsion, horror. None. Just two girls anxiously on the edge of something.
"Do that again." Brooke whispered.
"I was gonna." Sam reassured, pulling them together once again. Tentative at first, their lips gently explored each others, becoming deeper and more intense as both girls found what they had been looking for all along. Pressed together as much as they possibly could be in their position, neither dared to push further, even as they desperately wanted to.
Brooke suddenly broke the kiss off, breathing hard as she tried to talk but couldn't. Clearing her throat she opened her eyes and looked at Sam's face, her expression of wonder and flush of heat over her face.
"We should stop." She managed.
"Yeah." Sam breathed, though she meant anything but agreement.
"Because…" Brooke started, not knowing how to finish as she gazed at Sam's parted mouth, her lips.
"Because…" Sam echoed, staring back at her. Their eyes met.
"What are we doing?" Brooke asked.
"I don't know." Sam admitted. "But it feels better than arguing."
"I've thought about doing this before." Brooke suddenly said, shyly.
"Really?" Brooke looked away and Sam hurried to reassure her. "Because I have too." Brooke looked back at her, shocked.
"Yeah. I went to see a dream analyser about it, she thought I was 'projecting'." Sam scrunched her face up in memory of the creepy, incense smelling woman.
Brooke couldn't help but give a little smile, tempered only by thinking about the situation they were in.
"So what does this mean?" She broached.
"It means I wasn't lying when I said I liked you." Sam said lightly. There was a silence as both girls mind raced though neither could say what with.
"We should go to bed." Brooke said, suddenly standing. It was only the look on Sam's face that made her realise what she'd said. "To sleep! To our own beds. To sleep." She hurried, stepping backwards.
"Yeah." Sam dumbly nodded.
Continuing to back step, Brooke nodded back. "Well, goodnight then."
"Night." Sam replied, watching as Brooke edged out of the room, both girls still nodding to each other until the door clicked shut.
Then both simultaneously exhaled.
Sam had awakened early. Much earlier than she usually did on Sundays. She was sitting on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, chin resting on them. She wasn't sure if Brooke was awake, there had been no sign. The brunette wasn't sure if she should leave her bedroom, go downstairs, actively seek out the blonde and ask the questions that were going over and over in her head and remaining unanswered. Every scenario of what could happen that day was running in her mind, every conversation which could take place, every response. But she knew she wasn't sure what response would be the right one.
For months she had been dreaming of Brooke, dreaming of kissing her, of being in some situation of importance with her. She was sure that in some way it served as motivation for their arguments, thinking how dare Brooke get into her head, who did she think she was to make her feel this way, question herself? Never once had she considered the possibility that anything might come of her fantasies, that she would ever actually kiss Brooke for real, that Brooke would ever be thinking and feeling the same thing. She was a frickin prom queen for God's sake! Sam sighed loudly and brushed a hand over her face before decisively standing and walking to the door. Her hand on the door handle, she prepared to open…before letting go and retreating back to her bed, giving another sigh.
Brooke crept down the stairs, not really sure if she should be creeping or actively trying to make noise. Her body on the other hand had made its own mind up and was stealthily making its descent into the kitchen where it just as silently retrieved a Coke from the fridge for its liquid satisfaction. Payback was however not far away, as it soon found itself spluttering on that very same Coke.
"Hi." Sam said from the bottom stair, giving a half wave before stuffing her hand back in her pocket. She was dressed in jeans and a black hoody zipped right up, her posture incredibly stiff and her eyes moving rapidly between Brooke and anything else in the room.
"Sam." Brooke managed, having finally swallowed the coke that had tried to force its way into her lungs.
"Yep." Sam nodded, shifting awkwardly from side to side on the stair. "How are you?" She asked, wincing at how her own voice sounded.
"I'm good, fine. Absolutely fine." Brooke shook her head rapidly. "And you?"
"Oh you know." Sam shrugged.
Brooke motioned to her coke in offerance of one to Sam. Finally descending the final stair, Sam walked toward the fridge and took one, opening it and sipping slowly. They stood in silence for a full minute that seemed like longer.
"I can't remember the last time I was up this early on a Sunday." Brooke mused.
"Yeah, must be weird. It's usually Sunday before you get in." Sam recalled.
"Not every week." Brooke corrected, scanning Sam's face.
"I didn't mean…" Sam said quickly, locking eyes with Brooke for a brief moment before they both broke away.
"I wonder when the parentals will be back." Brooke said.
"I guess tomorrow. I can't see them not milking the opportunity and coming home any earlier than they have to, they'll want us to suffer as long as possible." Sam remarked innocently.
"I'm sorry it's been such a trauma for you." Brooke suddenly frowned.
Again, Sam found herself stumbling to catch up. "I didn't mean-"
"No it's fine, I know the feeling. Being cooped up with you hasn't been a piece of cake for me either." Brooke reacted to the stinging sensation of hurt Sam's comment had made her feel.
"Let's not fight." Sam sighed, rubbing her hand over her face.
"Why not? We do it so well."
"Brooke, we need to talk." Sam looked straight at her this time.
"You're making yourself pretty clear to me." Brooke murmured, walking up to and past Sam as she made her way back upstairs.
"I don't think I am. Brooke!" Sam called after her, stunned at her step sister's sudden sulk. A door slammed above her and Sam looked around the kitchen in disbelief at what had just happened.
Was that it? Did they both just pretend nothing had happened and fall back into their normal routine? A flash of the kiss they had shared the previous night passed through Sam's head, and she swallowed hard. For the briefest of moments she had allowed herself to believe that this might work, that the unthinkable could happen and something that she'd wanted for so long and so secretly might actually come true. Feeling it slipping away was suddenly more than she could take and a vast desolate feeling started to appear in her stomach, worse than any screaming argument had ever made her feel.
'No.' She suddenly thought, pushing the feeling back forcefully. She wasn't about to accept it, not this time. A blast of loud music thudded through the house from Brooke's room, getting louder as Sam approached the door.
Like so many times before, Sam walked in without knocking. It would have been futile over the music. And like so many times before Brooke spun around with a scowl in place, an angry retort on her lips.
"What the fu-" She was cut off.
"Shut up Brooke." Sam told her, before moving to her in two quick steps and bringing the two of them together. Pushing her hand up the back of Brooke's neck and entwining it into her hair, she moved her lips over the blonde's, feeling the spark of heat start up her spine, settle in her stomach, taking over from any remnant of the twisting emptiness that had almost settled there. Brooke's initial reluctance to have Sam in her room disappeared and she recovered quickly, her anger turning into something else.
Brooke's mouth demanded entrance to Sam's, and she was gratified by the moan that followed from the brunette when she allowed her in. Their hungry kiss gained momentum, and Sam suddenly found Brooke's bed hitting the back of her legs. Giving in to the momentum, she let herself fall backwards onto it, bringing Brooke with her. Pressed on top of Sam, Brooke's heart began to race faster than she knew it possibly could, but still she did not pull away or detach herself, still kissing her intently, her hands starting to explore.
Not to be out done, Sam pushed her hands up underneath Brooke's top, feeling the smoothness of her back, the tautness of her muscles. A small gasp escaped Brooke's mouth from the sudden skin on skin contact and she pulled back briefly to look directly into Sam's gaze. Both seemed to be challenging each other, waiting for the other to declare that this wasn't what they wanted so they could call them a liar. Neither said a word and Sam leaned upwards, claiming Brooke's mouth back with her own, pushing up into her creating a delicious shiver through Brooke's entire body.
"Take this off." Sam said in a thick voice, pulling at the top that she was already underneath.
There was a second of hesitation before Brooke did as she was told, taking it over her head and tossing it across the room. She could almost feel Sam's eyes roaming over her.
"Now you." Brooke spoke. Sam slowly sat up and unbuttoned her shirt, never dropping her eye contact with Brooke, who did look away after unsuccessfully fighting the urge to watch Sam's fingers work the buttons before sliding the material off.
"You're absolutely beautiful." Brooke breathed, looking back into Sam's eyes.
Slowly this time, they kissed. Their hands glided over newly exposed skin, and after tracing over it several times, Sam unhooked Brooke's bra.
"I want to do things with you." Sam whispered, not caring how stupid she might sound.
"I want to too." Brooke traced a line down Sam's chest to her abdomen, stopping at the waistband of the jeans she was wearing.
"But?" Sam asked, sensing hesitation.
Brooke looked up. "Is this too quick?"
"I don't care." Sam said truthfully.
"Maybe you will later." A small frown appeared on the blonde's forehead.
"Maybe I'm tired of thinking of maybes." Sam's fingers traced the frown line and worked it away.
"Brooke?" Waiting for her full attention, Sam laid herself bare. "I want you."
Unable to refuse the plea in the other girl's voice, Brooke pressed her lips to Sam's almost chastely, contradicted only by her fingers undoing the button and fly of Sam's jeans and working them off of her.
Her lips moved down across her neck, biting her slightly and making Sam's hips jump up into her own. Careful not to mark her, she bit her harder, increasing the pressure against both of them and making them both moan.
"Oh, God." Sam murmured to herself, Brooke barely making out the words. She concentrated instead on working a path downwards, kissing Sam incredibly softly, making her skin hypersensitive. Stopping when she reached the boundaried outline of underwear, her hands gripped Sam's hips.
"Don't stop." Sam told her, one hand pushing down on Brooke's shoulder.
Brooke stroked her hands downwards, taking with them the last remaining barrier, she finally looked over Sam and was almost struck dumb. Her breath caught in her throat as she lowered herself back down and picked up where she left off, kissing her way to where she wanted to be. When she got there, she heard Sam exhale loudly.
"Oh, God." She repeated, louder this time.
"It's ok." Brooke assured her, finger stroking her thighs. And then she lowered her mouth and took Sam in. Caressing her with her tongue, Brooke could feel Sam restraining herself from twitching off the bed.
Brooke could scarcely believe what she was doing but wasn't in the mind frame to stop and question herself. Her whole body was on fire, every impulse screaming at her to somehow get closer to Sam, to take more of her in. She stilled her fingers just outside Sam's entrance, her fingers itching with the desire to claim Sam, to push up inside of her and own her. Swallowing hard, she forced her hand away, knowing that this was an honour Sam had never given anyone before, and one she was proud of. Brooke wouldn't take it when she wasn't sure of what this would all come to mean in the long run.
Instead she quickened her tongue, pressing deeper into the body beneath her. It wasn't long until she heard Sam's breathing become quicker and her body rocked faster against Brooke.
"Oh fuck…Brooke-" Sam choked out, gripping Brooke's shoulders so hard there was bound to be a mark. Her hips lifted violently off of the bed and she shuddered hard as the climax ripped through her hard, her breath escaping her. Brooke stopped only when Sam gently pushed against her head, not able to take any more on the oversensitive area.
Moving away reluctantly, Brooke slid her body up Sam's, coming to rest on top of her lightly as the girl breathed hard.
"Are you ok?" She questioned, stroking her face gently.
Sam could only nod.
They lay that way for a few minutes, Brooke gently stroking Sam as she audibly fought to catch her breath.
"I don't know what to say." The brunette finally said, her chest rising and falling at its normal speed now.
"You don't have to say anything." Brooke said softly.
And they didn't.
Slowly and with much trepidation, Mike pushed the front door of his house open. Followed by his wife, they crept inside and softly pushed it to a close.
"It's quiet." He remarked, whispering without knowing why.
"And there's no blood on the walls." Jane deadpanned, though was honestly relieved to see the house in its generally tidy state. She'd envisioned vases being thrown on more than one occasion since she'd left the house the previous Friday night.
Delving deeper, Mike looked in the sitting room and kitchen but found no trace of either girl, turning to see Jane catch up to him and shake her head in the negative as well.
"They should be back from school by now." He frowned.
"Unless they took one look at our note, packed a bag and stayed elsewhere." Jane thought out loud.
"We'll see." Mike clenched his teeth as he headed toward the utility room just off of the kitchen to check the alarm logs.
"Mike, wait." Jane called after him, spying something on the kitchen's central island unit.
There, almost exactly where they'd left their own note, was another. Picking it up, Jane read it quickly, aware of Mike doing the same over her shoulder.
To our dear parents,
We would like to thank you for the opportunity you gave us in having the weekend together to reflect on our relationship. You will be glad to hear that this time was put to good use and a lot of issues were laid to rest.
We can whole heartedly promise that we no longer want to kill each other.
There will be a lot of changes in our behaviour, and in the very atmosphere of the house. All for the better.
We have gone out to celebrate our new found things in common. Please enjoy a night to yourselves.
Your ever grateful and loving daughters.
Mike and Jane stared at each other in amazement.
"Do you think it's the truth?" Jane asked, looking back to the note.
"If it is, do you think it'll last?" Mike retorted.
Jane put the note down and smiled fully, a carefree feeling she hadn't felt for a long time washed over her. "Yes. I think they'll last." She said, wrapping her husband in a hug.
The End