DISCLAIMER: Popular is the intellectual property of Ryan Murphy. I simply dabble in his sandbox, make his characters gay for each other and enjoy the turn on that follows.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is for krumnut, who requested: "If you and I were a movie."
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
You're Not Serious, Are You?
By carpesomediem
"You're not serious, are you?" Sam was nearly doubled over in laugher outside Brooke's door as the music came blaring out into the hallway. "Hannah Montana? Really?"
Brooke's face was beet red. She was mid-song, singing her way through the first half when Sam made it home from a late evening at the newspaper. Mike and Jane were out of town for a few days, Brooke didn't expect Sam home until much later.
"Look, Sam," Brooke turned the music off, still blushing, "It's not what you think..."
"How do you know what I think?" Sam asked, leaning against the doorway and crossed her arms with a smirk on her face. She didn't expect to walk in on Brooke singing at the top of her lungs, albeit it well, to Hannah Montana. Normally, Brooke kept her music down low, she knew it was something pop-ish but not this teeny bopper.
"It's all over you face!" Brooke exclaimed, hiding her head in her hands. But she was hiding for more than just being caught listening to Hannah Montana, the song she was singing, she was thinking about Sam while listening to it. Imagining she was singing it to her, that they were living the dream. "You're going to tell everyone, aren't you?"
"Nah," Sam shrugged, "I don't think anyone would believe the Homecoming Queen was rocking out to Hannah Montana. But I mean, Poppy did get caught running Hanson's fan club-"
"-Sam!" Brooke whined, "Please, don't? I'll do anything!"
"Oh, really?" Sam rose an eyebrow, smirking some more before stepping into Brooke's room and making herself comfortable on the blonde's bed. She put her hands behind her head, propping herself up slightly on the pillows. "Sing to me."
"Sing to you?" Brooke looked at her incredulously, "Are you kidding me?"
"No, Brooke," Sam smiled, "Sing to me. Like you just were." Brooke's jaw dropped slightly, but Sam was oblivious; there was no way she meant that the way Brooke thought she meant it, was there?
The End