Disclaimer: Characters belong to Ryan Murphy, I'm just borrowing them so they can do my bidding for a while.
A/N: Huge, huge thank you to quatorz. This literally would never have been finished without you.
A/N II: Okay, part three in my 'catch the fuck up' Fic Quest. This one has sitting in at about 2 pages since December 08. And I just finished it. :D Yay me!
Brooke was drawn to the living room by the sounds of shouts and jeering.
"What are you watching?" The brunette tilted her head over the back of the sofa so she got a view of an upside down Brooke.
"An in-depth investigation into the personality of the American psyche." Hazel orbs eyed the reporter sceptically, a fair eyebrow raising slowly and independently from the other. A familiar jeering started up again.
"Sam, it's Jerry Springer." Her housemate's face disappeared as she righted herself and turned her attention back to the television screen, making her shoulders jump in a shrugging motion.
"I stand by my statement." Brooke rolled her eyes, but the lure of trashy TV was simply too much for her as two females guests started battering each other on stage. The crowd whooped and cheered as a security guard attempted to separated them, getting smacked a few times in the process, and Brooke took a seat next to Sam on the couch.
"So what happened to cause likely former best friends to start trying to… Ew, bite chunks out of each other?" Sam laughed and made a face that was similar to the one the cheerleader wore. She flicked a grape, which Brooke only then noticed she was eating, into her mouth and answered.
"Actually, they're former girlfriends." Sam's eyes slid so she was able to see Brooke in her peripheral vision as she spoke. "The redhead has been sleeping with the, um, multi-coloured-haired one's sister and Skittles is not happy." It was a moment before Brooke replied.
"Huh." A few more minutes of silent viewing passed. "I'd kick her ass too." Sam's head shot to the side and she blinked at Brooke slowly. She felt the weight of Sam's stare and returned the gaze. "What? Wouldn't you?"
"Um…" The only thing Sam could think was, "I'm more concerned about sleeping with mine", which she was fairly certain wouldn't be taken well. But she was still being looked at expectantly and needed to say something. "Yeah." Well, that would have to do. Brooke nodded, satisfied with the answer anyway.
"I'd pick up a chair and… oh, never mind." Skittles had apparently heard enough from her ex and had hefted her chair right over her head. Mr Springer thought this would be the perfect time to bring out the other 'woman'. The chair went flying across the stage in the opposite direction of the redhead and suddenly, Skittles was latched onto her sister. "Huh." Brooke said again, her head tilting to the side as she watched the events unfold onscreen.
"What?"
"Well, if I were in the redhead's place, I would never have gone from Skittles to… the woman who's apparently top of the tooth fairy's list. Does she have any teeth left in her mouth?" Sam had chosen that unfortunate moment to take a sip of her drink, and consequently proceeded to choke through her laughter. She wasn't sure what exactly had caused the fit, Brooke's appraisal of the rainbow-haired warrior, or the tooth jibe. Either way, Brooke was amused by it.
"I'm sure should she get her two, or I guess all of her teeth for Christmas, she'd be a real looker." Stated with faux confidence. Brooke held dainty fingers to her mouth and smiled behind them, before resting her cheek in her palm.
"We're so mean." Their heads titled again, simultaneous, in response to something on screen. "Wow, those are some…"
"Really large blurs placed over her chest?" Brooke nodded, eyes wide.
"Why do they hand out beads?" Sam shrugged and shovelled a handful of popcorn, which Brooke was pretty sure had just appeared out of nowhere, into her mouth. "Ugh! Why does she still want her back?!" Brooke shrieked, gesturing an arm wildly towards the television set. "There is no way I would beg anyone who cheated on me to come back." She both heard and felt Sam snort next to her.
"Like anyone in their right mind would cheat on you." Brooke slowly turned her head towards Sam, completely at a loss for what to say to that. The brunette didn't return the gaze, but had to strain to keep her eyes from widening at her own stupidity. "Stop staring at me like I'm a magic eye picture." Sam finally said huffily, after a long moment. "So you're not on the 'most undesirable top 100' list, this information isn't exactly shocking."
"Uh," Brooke scoffed. "It is when it's coming from you, former president and founder of the 'we hate Brooke' club." At this, Sam did look at her and, lifting a fisted hand and extending her index finger, motioned from Brooke to hold the thought right there while she chewed a mouthful of popcorn.
"Co-founder." Sam pointed out as she swallowed, and Brooke rolled her eyes exasperatedly, the comment not being one she had expected. Or actually wanted to hear. "Harrison helped." Brooke threw her hands up into the air.
"I'm not a bad person! Why was there even a club?!"
"The status comes with a rep, Miss Thing. The bitch crown doth bequeath bitch-like qualities upon its wearer." Sam said with an air of nonchalance and a shrug. "But we disbanded, and anyway, just because my contempt for you was at an all time high, doesn't mean I was blind." It didn't need to be added, the sentence would have been fine had it just been left at 'disbanded'. "My own verbal vomit astounds me."
"Good to know." Brooke blinked, her brow furrowing a little in uncertainty. "On both of those. I think."
"Oh! Oh!" Sam began excitedly, pointing at the television. "Skittles has the chair again." Hazel eyes snapped away from Sam, and the brunette felt relief trickle through her at the ability to change topic. They both winced in unison.
"Think the security guard is out for the count after that?" Sam nodded.
"Wrong place, wrong time, Steve." The reporter chuckled and offered the popcorn bowl to her seatmate, who smiled and took a handful before Sam dropped it between them.
"Can you imagine what it would be like if we went on?" Brooke asked with a grin, and Sam found herself trying hard not to think about it. To no avail. Visions of an empty stage and the bespectacled host himself announcing them onto the stage filled her mind.
"Please welcome our next guest, Sam." She saunters out from behind a faux metal door dressed in a grunge-era plaid flannel shirt that doesn't belong anywhere outside early 1991, torn-at-the-knee jeans, and Doc Martins, and takes a seat centre stage. "Welcome to the show, Sam."
"Thanks, Jerry." She smiles and shifts in the seat, bending one leg at the knee and folding it under herself. Her hair looks slightly more dishevelled than usual and there are a few more piercings in her ears.
"So why don't you tell us why you're here." She takes a deep breath, then smiles confidently, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I'm here today to tell my step-sister that I'm in love with her." The crowd erupts, cheering and chanting 'we love lesbians, we love lesbians' at the top of their lungs. Her grin turns cocky, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek for a moment, waiting for the crowd to calm down.
"So, you're a lesbian." Jerry asks, looking the part of the concerned talk show host. "Does your step-sister know this?"
"No. At least, not yet."
"And how do you think she's going to react?" A contemplatively raised eyebrow makes her release the breath she was holding in a sigh.
"Well Jerry..." She unfolds her legs and crosses them at the ankles, folding her arms and settling them against her chest. "I'm hoping her reaction will give the crowd something to really cheer about." Whoops and hollers greet her answer and she smirks. "But if her reaction is less than stellar, at least I won't spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if'."
"So you're prepared for her maybe not being so happy when the truth comes out?" A pause as some of the audience members laugh. "Or when you do."
"Prepared? No. But I'm willing to take the risk." With a gesture of his hand, Jerry moves the show along.
"Then lets bring her out. Our next guest, and Sam's sister-"
"Step-sister." She corrects, but he just shrugs and continues.
"Here's Brooke!" The crowds applause turns into catcalls when Brooke enters through the same faux metal door, looking for all the world like a catholic school girl in her knee length skirt, knee high socks and a short sleeved white shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar. Sam has no explanation for this, but won't deny that it makes for a good visual. "Hi Brooke." The blonde smiles sweetly as she sits.
"Hi Jerry." She looks nervous, unsure. It's endearing.
"So, obviously, you know Sam." Brooke nods, glancing sidelong at her. "Do you have any idea why she brought you here?"
"No." She admits, turning to Jerry with a shake of her head and then looking back to Sam imploringly. "What is there that you couldn't possibly tell me at home? Away from cameras and probably a few hundred people we don't know?"
"Well Sam, why don't you tell her?" Sam releases another breath and turns her chair so she's facing Brooke. She reaches out and pulls the blonde's chair so that they're almost knee to knee, and meets Brooke's apprehensive eyes.
"Look, you know how much you mean to me, right? How much our friendship means to me?" Brooke's head bobs and allows Sam to continue. With a jerk of her own head, she flips her hair out of her eyes. "And that, normally, I wouldn't do anything to sabotage that." Now Brooke looks really nervous. "But there's something I have to tell you before it eats me alive." Insert dramatic pause here. "I'm gay." Hazel eyes get wide for a moment and then Brooke blinks.
"Is that it? Sam, you could have told me this at home!" She sounds annoyed, but then her eyes flit over Sam and the annoyance is gone when she speaks again. "Besides, I'm not stupid. I've seen the way you dress... your sexuality is kind of obvious." Sam quirks an eyebrow at that and then reaches forward with a smile and takes hold of Brooke's hand.
"And..." She looks down and then looks back up, in a manner reminiscent of George Clooney's patented 'puppy dog' look. "I am so, completely in love with you." And that, was most definitely not obvious to Brooke, who jerks both herself and her hand back out of Sam's reach like she's been burned. Her gaze darts to the audience, then back to Sam, who's looking at her like she's silently begging her to say something and Brooke opens her mouth to do so, but is interrupted by the sound of a doorbell.
"Uh oh!" Jerry announces in an overdramatic way, waving the hand holding the flashcards in the air in faux annoyance. "Now who could that be?" A door opens off to the side of the stage and Nicole, looking like a biker bitch from Hell, strides out. Dressed from head to toe in studded leather, her spiked hair dyed black at the tips and a murderous look in her bright blue eyes, she stalks towards them, shoving a security guard, who had just finished settling up another chair for her, out of her way.
"Listen Spam, you can think again if you think you're getting your dykey fingernails into Brooke! Because that will only happen over my dead body." She snaps, stopping right in front of Sam and wagging a perfectly manicured finger in her face.
"That can easily be arranged, Satan." Is her sickly sweet reply. "I'll be only too happy to send you back to your own realm."
"Nicole, what are you doing here?" Brooke asksd, now looking thoroughly confused, and she stands, pulling the infuriated blonde away from Sam.
"Ensuring you don't make the biggest mistake in history." Nicole's face is a mask of concern that's about as real as the show they're on usual is. "Brookie, this is Spam we're talking about here. If you're gonna jump ship, do you really think it should be with her?"
"What are you-?" Brooke begins, but Nicole lifts a finger to the other girl's lips, silencing her and making her eyes widen to the size of small doughnuts.
"Pick me, instead." Sam shoots out of her seat.
"Woah! Hold on a second! No. No, no, no." She grabs Nicole by the back of her leather jacket and yanks her backwards, shoving her until they're face to face. "Listen Rasputin, you are not going to do this. You're not going to manipulate this like you do everything else. I'm not going to let you." A fair eyebrow rises in challenge.
"Oh yeah?" And Nicole turns, reaching out and pulling a shocked Brooke to her by the neck, and kissing her hard. The crowd explodes again, getting louder when Sam loses it and tackles a smug-looking Nicole to the floor. The security guards make their way onto the stage, not really rushing, and make a half hearted attempt to separate the two scrapping girls, finally pulling them apart with Sam still lashing out with her legs and Nicole making crazed, animalistic biting gestures in her direction.
"Okay, okay. Let me see if I have this right." Jerry, who they had almost forgotten was still there, began once the noise level had returned to acceptable. "Sam, you've been holding this in for a while. And when you finally come clean..." He glances down at his flashcards again. "Nicole, who is Brooke's best friend," he pauses for the crowd's appropriate and unified gasp. "Comes out here and professes her love too!"
"She's not professing love!" Sam spits, struggling to get away from the burly man holding her. "She's just trying to screw me over! Brooke, look at me." The blonde obeys. "You're not buying this, right? She's just doing this to make sure you don't sully your social status! Because if you fall from that top spot, so does she."
"Spam, you are unbelievable." Nicole says boredly, gracefully shrugging off the arms of the security guard and moving to stand beside Brooke. "And you're a hypocrite. You're guilty of doing the exact thing you just accused me of. Admit it, you just want to knock Brooke off her perch, and if you have to do that with a little lesbianism, so be it."
"You lying bitch!" Sam growls, finally wriggling free and lunging for Nicole again. They go down to the floor again and her hands are almost around Nicole's throat when she feels herself pulled back by her ankles and once more finds herself in the grip of strong hands.
Then, the doorbell rings again.
"Seems like someone else back stage has something more to say! Bring her out!" The door opens and, god help them all, Mary Cherry takes the stage. At least, Sam thinks its her. Without her usual fur coat, it's hard to tell, and today she is most definitely without it. She's wearing a button shirt, tied at the waist in a bow and left open at the top so her boobs are practically hanging out. A jean-skirt, with leggings, ankle boots, the biggest hoop earrings Sam has ever seen and so much make up it makes her look like a clown hooker. Her over-blushed cheeks move with every open-mouthed chew of the gum she's gnawing on. "Wow." Is all he can say. "And you are?"
"Hai Jerry!" Mary Cherry says, her voice overly loud, her accent seeming thicker than usual. "I'm Mary Cherry, or as mah Momma likes to call me, Roadkill. I think it's 'cause I remind her of my older brother, Roadkill, who was killed when he was out huntin' badgers for the fourth of July trailer park banquet. He just didn't see that badger coming. He was blind in one eye." Sam is stunned into immobility, Brooke's mouth is hanging open, and Nicole is looking at Mary Cherry like this is it. The girl has finally, truly snapped.
"It's nice to meet you, Mary Cherry." Jerry says, seeming sincere but he has had years of practise. "You live in a trailer park?"
"Why yes ah do, sweet cheeks." The well trained crowd immediately begins chanting 'we love trailer parks. We love trailer parks' and Mary Cherry looks like she's having the time of her life.
"What are you doing you schizophrenic idiot?" Nicole hisses. "You're ruining everything. I told you to stay back stage." Mary Cherry turns to the platinum blonde with an emphatic chew and a stomp of her foot.
"But Nic, ah told you ah had my storyline planned out!" Now she looks excited. "Ah had to come out, otherwise no one would ever hear the story about how mah Momma threw an enraged squirrel at Pa one time and it bit him, and he had to go get checked for rabies and she got sent to prison. And mah outfit would have gone to waste!" She whines to a completely unsympathetic Nicole, who just rolls her eyes. "Besides..." Mary Cherry turns back to Jerry. "Ah have an announcement of my own."
"For the love of God, will you people just leave?" Sam groans, having now taken her seat and dropped her head into her hands. Mary Cherry ignores her and takes a deep breath.
"Ah too..." Pause for dramatic effect. "Am a lesbian!" The crowd cheers, the rest of them appear nonplussed, except Brooke, who looks like she might either pass out or vomit. "And Lil' Lily and ah have been having sexual relations for six months!"
"You are such a liar, Mary Cherry!" And something happens that has never before been seen on The Jerry Springer Show, which is saying something. A tiny Latino girl flies out of the audience and attacks the lasciviously grinning Mary Cherry, who doesn't seem in the slightest bit phased by the attack at all. They go down with the blonde yelling something about Lily not being able to keep her hands off her and Lily screaming obscenities over her. Nicole starts throwing insults at Sam, who just looks at Brooke who is looking at the carnage before her like someone just told her that her puppy died. And then Sam's mom walks into the room.
"Mom?!" Sam squeaks, getting quickly to her feet and staring at the older woman.
"Hi honey." She looks over, noting the brunette startled expression and waves a hand at her. "Oh don't look so terrified, I just came for my Jerry beads!" And Sam wishes the Earth would just open up and swallow her, because her mother flashes the audience.
"Sam!" The reported jumped, almost knocking the bowl off the couch and sending popcorn everywhere. Her head snapped to the side to find Brooke's smiling eyes settled on her.
"What?" She asked dumbly, trying hard to blink away the last remnants of her daydream.
"You totally zoned on me." Brooke said, sounding somewhat affronted, and levelled the brunette with a look that made the reporter suddenly feel sorry for a certain Josh Ford.
"Sorry." And she was, she really was. Because if she hadn't disappeared into her nightmare of a daydream, the next question would never have had reason to leave Brooke's lips.
"What were you thinking about?" Sam's gaze slipped back to the television set as she contemplated which path of thought she would be better off taking. The one with the sunshine and brightly coloured rainbows? Or the one with the scary assed trees and wolves waiting to eat her alive.
"What it would be like if we did, for some godforsaken reason, ever end up on there." She admitted, feeling her heartbeat pick up as she discreetly held her breath and hopped Brooke didn't delve any deeper.
"Oh yeah?" The blonde asked and turned her body so that she was facing Sam, annoyed look gone from her face and replaced by one of intrigue. "Anyone throw any chairs?" The brunette glanced to the side and Brooke wiggled her eyebrows at her.
"I dunno, but Mary Cherry was there and I think she was crowned the new Trailer Trash Queen." Brooke laughed, head thrown back, eyes bright. Sam turned her head, a small frown creasing her forehead as she watched the other girl.
It was at that exact moment that it hit her. It was in that moment that she realised that she could joke to herself and dance around it all she wanted, there was no avoiding it. Not when they lived in the same house, went to the same school, were finally friends and spent eighty percent of their days together. It wasn't hopeless, she had faith in her ability to control her feelings and emotions, but she was beginning to realise that it was pointless. Because she didn't want to control them. And once you understood that simple fact, it was difficult to care about consequences. Once you've looked at someone like she was looking at Brooke, felt your heart thud and your body fill with a hundred impulses in the same instant, so you're immobilized by them all. When someone stuns you like that, literally makes you stop and stare, you quickly lose hope of every really looking away.
"Why are you staring at me?" Brooke voice floated in, pushing her thoughts aside and making dark eyes focus. A mirrored frown and curious hazel orbs shed their blurriness and became clear, and Sam felt butterflies suddenly assault her stomach with whirlwind force. And then she felt silly, because she'd never seen herself as a 'butterflies' type of person, but there they were, proving her wrong. She thought back to her, mostly horrific, visual and remembered the cocksure version of herself. Remembered how that Sam had been brave enough to tell Brooke, to not sit back and safely wonder 'what if?', and had been ready to tear Nicole a new place to yell insults from.
Then her second revelation of the day hit her, and Sam realised that that image of herself wasn't just an image. That Sam she saw in her head was part of her, just buried separate from the average every day Sam everyone else saw. It was a part of her she could call on, if and when she needed it. And with Brooke's eyes on her, lips curled in an amused smile, close enough that she can feel her body heat, Sam was pretty certain she'd never need that part of herself more than at that moment.
"You know, I was never really that invested in the club." Brooke blinked and frowned, Sam's sudden seeming change of topic completely throwing her for a loop. The brunette grinned at the confused look and elaborated. "The 'we hate Brooke club'."
"Ooooh." The blonde drew out with a chuckle, eyes going back to the TV as she absently fiddled with the long sleeve of her shirt.. "But…" Lingering for only a few seconds before they flitted back to the girl beside her. "You were so convincing in the role of President. I don't know if I can believe that was all just an act." And while her smile was amused, her face betrayed a vulnerability that was usually hidden. Sam unfolded her legs, stretching them out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles, crossed her arms over her chest and let her head loll in Brooke's direction.
"Could you believe that my apparent loathing was just me deflecting?" She could tell Brooke wanted to shift her gaze, but Sam held it. While something else seemed to hold the very air around them still as the reporter sat in silence and waited for the other girl to process what she'd just said. If she could just keep breathing, it might all be okay.
"Deflecting what, exactly?" Was her response, in the form of a very slowly asked question. Part of Sam wanted to bolt, but another, more dominant now, part of her wanted very much to see how this would play out. She let out a sigh that shifted the short wisps of hair framing her face.
"My actual feelings. The ones I managed to keep buried so deep, I almost couldn't find them when I went looking." Her lips quirked in a wry smile. "But you have a way of leading people to things like that."
"I'm sure the many hours you sit watching in-depth investigations of the American psyche also helped." Sam could see it in Brooke's eyes, the understanding filtering in slowly. And she knew the blonde was trying to make jokes to ease the tension of the situation, but Sam kinda liked the tension. Was kind of intrigued as to what might happen when someone brought out the knife to cut it.
"I don't know about that, they haven't done a 'Surprise, I'm in love with my step-sister' show yet." Sam allowed the beat of silence to follow, allowed everything to really sink in. "But that one might have helped, yeah."
And then a much longer moment of silence fell over them. So long was it, that Sam started to doubt whether speaking her mind had been a good idea. But then Brooke's lips twitched, and the silence was lifted, and despite her exterior portrayal, the butterflies returned full force.
"So, basically…" Brooke lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You're saying you want to be my Skittles?" Sam's grin was so wide, it hurt.
"Basically? Yeah." And the words came out far more breathily than they were supposed to. She uncrossed her legs and watched as Brooke leaned over to pick up the popcorn bowl and place it a safe distance away on the floor, hazel eyes never leaving her. And Sam felt a rush of something, familiar but stronger, surge through her. Her grin turned sly. "Wanna taste the rainbow?" She could have been slapped. Easily. Instead, Brooke's eyes did something she would later be unsure whether or not she'd actually seen, and then she was shifting her position until she was kneeling beside Sam, looking down at her.
"Later." Brooke's breath tickled her lips and Sam felt her insides clench, because that had sounded a lot like a promise. Now it was the cheerleader's turn to smirk. "First, I want to kiss you." The words broke through Sam's playfully overconfident façade, literally shattered it, and her breath hitched as Brooke moved in.
"Kay-" Was all she nervously managed to mumble, and then lips softer than she'd imagined were pressed against hers and a hand was at her cheek. And everything else, thoughts of biker Nicole and Mary Cherry the trailer trash queen, any lingering apprehension, evaporated.