Author's Notage: A pre-Phantom Stallion oneshot. Sam is seven, and Jake is nine. Since Valentine's Day comes before Mother's Day, Louise is still alive. I wasn't sure if Sam had Blackie yet, but I doubted it, so I didn't put him in here. Instead I made up my own little pony. Written for iluvcarby101's sake challenge.

Cooties

Seven year-old Samantha Forster loved the feel of her pony, Chester, galloping beneath her. If she closed her eyes and imagined really, really, really hard, she could pretend she and Chessy were flying across the playa, and not just running in circles in the round pen as her father, Wyatt Forster, told her what to do.

"Pull on the reins a little to the right, Sam…That's a good girl. No, now keep your eyes open so you know when to turn again."

Reluctantly, Sam opened her eyes. It was harder to pretend this way, but she refused to give up her daydream. As her own auburn hair mixed with Chester's –ironically enough—Chestnut mane, she placed herself back on the Nevada range.

Though the gallop around the pen never changed, she and Chessy's imaginary ride just got a little bit more exciting; because Sam's mind just placed herself racing a band of wild horses. They were beautiful and majestic as their powerful legs carried them faster than her little pony could go.

But Chester was determined. As Sam pushed him harder in the round pen, her adorable chestnut pony, without an ounce of any other colour on him, raced faster across the range. The wind blew his mane back out of his eyes so he could see that the big horses were leaving him behind, only willing the little pony to run faster.

The wind whipped in Sam's face, and her hair flew back behind her, slashing and thrashing madly. Her mom never put her hair up this morning and the wild wind would tangle it so it would be dreadfully painful to comb out after her ride; but Sam didn't mind. Chessy's mane stung her cheeks, too, but she was still grinning from ear to ear as she imagined Chester racing the wild ones.

He was almost next to the last horse in the herd. With an ear-splitting whinny Sam imagined would escape from his lips, he leapt forward, fiercely determined to reach that last horse. His little legs pulled back and pushed forward, harder and harder, faster and faster until…

"Still ridin' that pony in circles, Brat?"

…And just like that, Sam's pretend race was over.

-o0o-

Nine year-old Jake Ely rode up on a little horse, Rocky. He was a dark bay horse with white stockings and star, and he was a little one; in fact, Rocky was only a hand taller than what was considered a 'pony'. But Jake wouldn't stop gloating to Sam that while he rode an actual horse, she was stuck on a pony.

Jake had been her closest friend and neighbor for most of Sam's life, but he and Sam never stopped bickering. If it weren't for Jake's obvious Shoshone heritage in his features, they would often be mistaken for brother and sister. Sometimes they still were.

"Chessy's a great pony," Sam said defensively, dismounting without her father's help, just to show Jake she could do it.

"But still a pony."

"Shut your mouth, Jake Ely, or I won't let Mom invite you over for Valentine's Day tomorrow," Sam threatened, handing over Chester's reins to Wyatt. Her father shook his head at the children, but said nothing; only lead the chestnut pony away to be untacked and placed in his stall.

"Too late, Brat," Jake smirked, his smile white on his dark face, "She just asked me over for dinner, after lunch with my family."

"No she didn't!" Sam said confidently, though she really didn't know one way or another. She exited the round pen and placed her hands on her hips and scowled.

"Wanna bet?" Jake said, dismounting Rocky and tying him to the post near the barn. "Let's go ask her."

"Fine," Sam said smoothly, coming to stand beside him and give Rocky a pet. He snorted and bobbed his head up and down, and Sam almost forgot she was supposed to be mad at the horse's owner.

"I'll race you to the house," Jake challenged, "And if I win you have to admit that you're pony isn't as fast or strong as my horse."

"But if I beat you to the house, you have to admit that your 'horse' is just as small as any pony!" Sam glared at him in mock anger, hands clenched in fists.

"You're on," Jake nodded once, decided, and said, "On three. One…Two…Thr—Hey, you can't go yet! You're cheating!"

He took off after Sam, who had raced off at 'two'. He was yelling at her to slow down, that she was cheating, and other threats and insults, but the seven-year-old girl only looked over her should and shouted back at him, "You're just mad because I'm winning!"

Sam turned her back around to face forward and she ran as fast as she could to the quickly approaching house. She was almost there, and she was laughing because she knew she would win.

Suddenly, though, Sam was falling. Something had encircled her waist and tackled her to the ground.

"Ow!" Sam cried as she hit the ground, though she wasn't hurt at all. Mostly it was just her pride that was bruised as she lay on the ground staring at the back of a running Jake Ely, who had jumped off of her as soon as she hit the dirt.

Pushing herself to her feet, Sam screamed at Jake, "Ja-ke! You can't do that, you meanie! You cheated!"

But Jake only repeated Sam's words over his shoulder as he touched the post of the porch, "You're only mad because I won."

-o0o-

"You didn't win!"

"Did to!"

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

"Did not!"

"Sam, Jake, hush, hush." Sam's mom, Louise Forster, entered the kitchen from the living room where she saw her daughter and her friend fighting over who one a race. "You'll wake the dead with all this bickering. What's all the fuss about, now?"

"Me and Jake were racing and he tripped me! He cheated!" Sam declared, sitting down at the kitchen table, letting her legs swing back and forth. They weren't long enough to reach the ground yet.

Jake sat across the table. His legs could touch the ground, Sam noticed, and glared at him for it.

"I cheated? You started to run before I said three! You're the one that cheated! It's only fair that I got to cheat back. So I won," Jake smirked.

"No you didn't!" Sam tried to kick him from under the table, but she couldn't reach.

"You just don't want to be the loser, because than you have to admit that my horse is better than your pony," Jake said.

"Take it back!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Take it back right now, Jake Ely!" This time Sam slid down in her chair to make her legs a little longer, and she successfully pounded Jake's leg with her the tip of her cowgirl boots.

"Holy Crud, Brat, that hurt!" Jake howled and rubbed his leg where Sam had kicked him.

"Good," Sam said. "I'm glad."

"Sam!" Louise scolded, finally able to get her two cents in between the constant yelling. "Say you're sorry."

"But, Mom, he deserved it."

"Who deserved what?" Sam's grandmother, Gram, came down the stairs and surveyed the situation. She had been upstairs cleaning and when she heard all the yelling she had to come down and see what was happening.

"Sam kicked Jake in the leg," Louise whispered to her, knowing that neither child wouldn't answer. They were too busy glaring at each other.

"Ah," Gram said, nodding "Sam, sweet, I'm sure whatever Jake did, you shouldn't have…"

The phone ringing interrupted her, and she went to answer it. "Hello?" Gram said into the phone, picking it up and motioning for the children to stay quiet.

While Gram listened to whatever the person on the other line had to say, Sam turned to her mother.

"Mom, did you invite Jake over for Valentine's Day tomorrow?"

Louise nodded, her back to them as she straightened up the kitchen. "Yes, I did. The rest of the Ely's couldn't make it, but Jake wanted to come over."

Jake shot a look at Sam. "Told you so," he whispered.

Sam scowled at Jake before turning back to her mother. "But, Mom, why?"

"Honey, Jake can always come over, whether you're mad at him or not."

With a 'humph' of anger, Sam slumped down in her seat and crossed her arms.

"Alright, talk to you later, Maxine. Bye, now." Gram hung up the phone and turned to face Jake. "Jake, that was your mom. She said you need to start riding back over; she wants you home for dinner." With a worried glance at the clock, Gram asked Jake, "Will you be able to make home in time, or should I call Maxine back?"

Jake nodded once and pushed the chair back from the table. "I'll make if I go get Rocky now," he said, heading towards the door. On his way out, before he reached the door, he whispered to Sam, "Because he's a horse and can ride faster than a pony."

"Jake!" Sam shot up out of the chair and made a grab for him, but Jake just ran out the door, laughing in triumph.

Slamming the screen door behind her, Sam flew out of the house and yelled as fiercely as she could, and as loud as she could,

"You take it back, Jake Ely!"

But he didn't.

-o0o-

"Mom, I don't want to give Jake a valentine," Sam protested the next day, swinging her legs back and forth under the kitchen table.

It was Valentine's Day, and Sam was sitting at the kitchen table keeping her mom company while she cooked the dinner they would eat tonight. Wyatt was out on the range, and Gram was shopping for Valentine's Day gifts.

Sam, herself, was making her own cards for everyone in her family by cutting out what were supposed to be hearts and gluing them together. She had already made one for her dad, her mom, and was now working on her grandmother's. When Louise had mentioned maybe making one for Jake, and giving it to him when he came over later, Sam hadn't been all over the idea.

"I don't like Jake anymore," Sam informed her mother. "He never said sorry yesterday."

"Neither did you," Louise pointed out.

"But I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Yes you did, honey," Louise turned to face her. "You kicked him really hard in the leg and hurt him."

"But he hurt my feelings and said that horses were better than ponies!"

Louise bent down so she was eye level with her daughter. "Sam, honey, make Jake a valentine and say you're sorry when he gets here. Maybe if you say you're sorry, then he will too."

"Do I have to?" Sam whined.

"Yes," Louise said gently, knowing that Sam was already defeated. She would do it, because she liked making Valentines (so much so she had thought about making one for Chester, until her mother had suggested giving him an apple instead).

"Alright, Mom," Sam said, placing the one she had just finished for Gram aside, "I'll make one for Jake."

Louise kissed the top of her daughter's hair. "That's my good girl."

-o0o-

Valentines finished, Sam sat at the table, her arms folded over each other and her head resting on the cushion they made. She was very bored, because Gram was still shopping, Wyatt was still out riding, and Louise was still cooking.

Sighing for what had to be the tenth time in five minutes, Sam closed her eyes. But she wasn't sleepy at all, so she reopened them and sighed again.

"Goodness, Sam, is something wrong?" Louise, tired of the constant sighing, turned to face her young daughter.

"No, Mom…There's just nothing to do, that's all," Sam inhaled to sigh again, but Louise clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Well, go outside a play with Chester some, okay? But I can't have you sitting here sighing and distracting me, much as I love your company," Louise released her daughter's mouth and kissed her cheek.

"Okay, Mom, I'll be out in the barn, then," Sam said, getting up out of her chair and heading for the door.

"Everyone will be back any minute, and Jake is on his way, I'm sure," Louise told her before she walked out the door. " But as long as you're out there alone, be careful, you hear me? And don't leave the ranch yard!"

"I promise I won't, Mom," Sam said, having heard that a million times.

-o0o-

Sam hadn't even made it halfway across the ranch yard before she heard the sound of hooves trotting over the wooden bridge that marked the entrance to her home. Turning happily, hoping it was her father and therefore someone to play with, Sam whirled to face the bridge. Her hopeful face fell considerably when she recognised the black horse coming her way.

It wasn't her father at all; it was Rocky, and astride him sat one Jake Ely.

Crossing her arms and trying to still look mad, Sam blew her auburn hair out of her eyes. She glowered at Jake as he jumped off Rocky. He did it with such swiftness that Sam was fighting a gape, but her surprise must have showed in her eyes anyway, because Jake caught her eye and smirked proudly at her envy.

"Evenin', Brat," he greeted her smugly, ground-tying Rocky.

"Stop calling me that!" Sam said automatically, forgetting for a moment she wasn't speaking to him. Well, at least she hadn't said anything friendly.

"Whatever you say…Brat."

"I am not a brat!" Sam went to give him a forceful shove in the shoulders, or maybe even a punch in the arm, but the older and stronger Jake caught her wrists.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too," He said sarcastically.

Valentine's Day. Suddenly, Sam remembered her valentines, and the one she made for Jake. She needed to stop being mad at him, now, so she could give it to him.

By now, Jake had released her hands, and so she started backing away from him.

"Stay right here," she ordered, pointing to the ground where he stood. "I have something for you. So don't move."

With that, Sam turned and raced towards her home.

-o0o-

"Stop slamming that blasted door, Sam!" Her mother yelled as Sam flew into her house, grabbed the valentine marked "Jake" in shaking seven-year-old handwriting, and flew back out the kitchen…slamming the door behind her.

Sam didn't hear, though, because she was already running across the ranch yard.

"Here," She said, giving Jake the valentine. "I made it myself." As Jake looked down at the valentine in his hands, she added almost shyly, "Happy Valentine's Day, Jake…And I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday. I hope your leg isn't hurt too bad."

"Gnaw, it's fine," Jake assured her, still staring at the valentine. It was only a simple piece of construction paper, covered in mis-shaped hearts and funny little squiggles and circles, showing that the seven-year-old had made it with no help at all from any adult.

"Thanks, Brat," Jake said, looking up at her. Sam could see the cowboy in him was a bit embarrassed, but his smile was genuine. "And I'm sorry, too. Your Chester is a great pony."

"Thank y—" Sam was cut off when Jake, shy and quiet Jake, leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sam," He whispered.

Sam stared at him a moment. Her mouth was open and her eyes wide in shock. Then, for only a single second, she smiled at him. It was a toothless grin, but it showed pure ecstasy.

And then…It was gone. Just like that the smile was gone and Sam was scowling at Jake.

"Jake! You just gave me cooties, Jake!"

"Why you—"

Sam stared running for her life as Jake chased her around the ranch yard.

"Cooties! Cooties! I have cooties!"

"Brat—See if I'm ever nice to you again!"