When Sam walked upstairs to fetch her lap top she never once
anticipated it would turn out the way it did.

She could hear a noise coming from the bathroom that connected her
bedroom to Brooke's, and, being the kind, considerate person she
was, Sam decided to check it out.

Knocking on the door, she opened it to see Brooke leaning against
the sinks with a razor blade in her right hand hovering over her
left wrist. Sam could see tears streaming down the beautiful
blonde's face, and realized at once that Brooke was trying to top
herself. "Brooke, no!" she cried, and racing across the short
distance and knocking the blade from Brooke's grasp. Brooke didn't
seem too concerned, about the razor blade at least.

"Sammy," she sobbed brokenly, throwing herself into the brunette's
arms and holding on for dear life. Sam wrapped her arms around
Brooke and murmured soothingly but worriedly. "God, Brookie, what's
wrong Princess? Come on baby, it's okay. It's okay." Finally Brooke
pulled out of the death grip she was holding Sam in and wiped her
eyes.

"No. You know what? No. It's not going to be all right," she accused
in a low voice, looking at Sam with a strange expression on her
face. It was a mixture of hurt, wistfulness and anger. Sam felt even
more bewildered.

"Why don't you tell me what IS wrong," she suggested. She sat,
leaning against the tub and held out her arms for Brooke, who sat so
she could be held.

"It all started about six months ago, you went to that journalist
convention or whatever in 'Frisco. I thought I'd be happy to see you
go – but it was the complete opposite. I was miserable. I don't know
how I stood this house before you lived here, Sammy, cos it seems so
empty without you."

Sam had a very good idea where this was leading and she wanted to
leap for joy but she knew better than to push it. She let Brooke get
to the point in her own time.

"So that's when I finally learned the truth. But you... you kept..."
She trailed off and wiped her eyes again.

"Four months ago, you and I went to that party, remember?" Sam
nodded. "I couldn't see anyone but you, and you... that guy... I've
never seen you flirt so shamelessly, and I hated it. I was jealous,
Sam."

Sam remembered that night well. She'd known what she wanted and knew
she couldn't have it. So when that cute guy came and started
flirting with her, she'd thought she could have a bit of comic
relief. She'd let him down gently before it got too far, told him
she was gay. But by the time, Sam realized, Brooke was gone.

"It's been eating away at me inside, this irrational love for you,"
Brooke continued, tearfully yet somewhat bitterly. "And I thought if
I made an opening it could all come pouring out. Leave me for good."

"Oh Brooke," Sam sighed, holding the blonde tighter. "There better
ways of letting the love out, you know."

"Like what?" Brooke asked sceptically.

"Like this," Sam replied, and she kissed Brooke. Brooke was
momentarily stunned but recovered quickly and kissed back for all
she was worth.

"Really?" she asked, her eyes shining with tears, of joy this time.
Sam knew what she meant.

"This is for real, babe," she promised. "So don't ever try to leave
me again."

"Never, Sammy. I love you."

"I love you."