Disclaimer: I don't own Popular, only wish it was mine to bring back, blah blah blah, the usual jargon and so forth.
Pairing: Sam/Brooke meaning femslash, meaning to back the hell out of this story if that makes you at all uncomfortable.
A/N: Right, so I've been having a huge Popular throwback and thought that their fanfiction needed more "angry sex". I mean, they hate each other for most of the first season, sheesh - sexual tension much?
Basically this was a spur of the moment fic, I just wanted to write. Plus this was (once again) done late at night – or really early in the morning, depending on what side of the sunrise you awake to, so apologize for any lame mistakes.
Anyhow, I'm not so familiar with the layout of 'The Palace" so forgive me if I made any colossal screw ups – just kinda described it with how I see the house (the view of it in show is surprisingly limited). – And unless I'm mistaken, the front door is the one that leads into the kitchen place, yes?
~xXx~
The scene of destruction that appeared to Mike and Jane when they let themselves into The Palace was met with gaping mouths and widened eyes. Shoes crunched over the glass from several shattered picture frames, and Mike gingerly stepped over the fallen houseplant that had previously been situated in the corner beside the front door.
Dirt was ground into the carpet, and as Jane dropped Mike's hand and leaned down to prop up one of the kitchen chairs, now missing a leg, against the table, she knew it took no genus to figure something bad had happened.
"SAM?"
"BROOKE?" Both parents yelled simultaneously, fear clenching their stomachs as they considered every horrible scenario that may have occurred to the soon to be stepsisters.
Their fear abated as they heard pounding footsteps on the stairs, and both girls arrive, clearly disheveled and out of breath.
"Oh, hey Jane, Dad." Brooke gasped out, smoothing her hair behind her ears as she sharply elbowed the brunette beside her.
"Right, yeah, hey Mom, Mike." Sam nodded.
The two adults could only stare at Sam and Brooke, mouths still open and bewildered expressions on their faces.
"Girls, what the hell happened here?" Mike managed to spit out. He was still glancing around the room and subsequently noticed the refrigerator door was hanging open, the tile littered with broken bottles and condiments and all manner of leftover food containers, and a particularly large crack running through across the kitchen table. Not to mention the battered look of both girls. They had clearly been in some sort of fight. "And what happened to you two? Was there a break in?"
"N-no Mike, no. No break in." Sam sputtered out,
~xXx~
It had started innocently enough. Or rather, viciously as always. The soon to be stepsisters had been fighting all week, to the exasperation of Jane and Mike especially since there was no discernable reasoning for it. And the two had reached a fevered pitch on Sunday afternoon, once again at war, but this time with no one to rein them in as Jane and Mike decided on a spur of the moment weekend getaway, not due back until the evening.
"God Brooke, try not to be so fucking sensitive." Sam snarled as she wrenched open the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Her blonde counterpart stood merely a foot away seething. They both could not even remember the original topic that had set them off, but that was hardly the issue now. Over the course of an hour every insult either girl could think of was thrown, from Brooke's prior eating disorder to Sam's father.
And now their screaming matching had led them both to the kitchen where a brief respite allowed Sam to reach for a water and Brooke to think of fodder for her next attack.
"What's the matter McQueen? No zippy retort from the glamazon?" The dark-haired girl spun around, brown eyes meeting hazel, both burning with rage. It was when Sam smirked and cocked an eyebrow; simultaneously taking a drink of water, that Brooke seemed to snap. Two strides put her lanky frame directly in front of Sam, hands balled into fists at her sides. Sam could only stare, their eyes locked and something clicked.
Looking back on the split second that would change everything, neither one could tell you who had made the first move that ended with Sam crashing into the open fridge door, knocking all sorts of bottles and jars to the ground, her hands entangled in blonde hair and two sets of lips crushed painfully against one another.
~xXx~
Their anger had found an outlet, and no words were spoken beyond the singular curses as Brooke's back collided with enough force on the kitchen table for it to crack as Sam all but threw her onto it, herself biting down on Brooke's bottom lip as the cheerleader's nails dug into her forearms.
~xXx~
All six of the black and white framed photographs came crashing to the ground and the tall plant by the front door all but flew over as Sam slammed into the wall, her teeth biting down on Brooke's bare shoulder, shirt having succumbed to the ongoing battle and currently lay in pieces on the floor. The bite elicited something between a gasp and a moan.
"That's going to bruise McPherson." Brooke growled, currently grasping the lapels of the writer's shirt and wrenching it open, the ping of the buttons lost on both.
"Shut the hell up Princess." Sam smirked, her hands none-to-gently grabbing Brooke's waist and pulling them even closer together.
And from there everything started to blur, meld together like a watercolour painting, as their passion fueled by their anger raged on.
~xXx~
Moments of clarity shone through however:
Both stumbling upstairs, mouths refusing to part and hands burning trails over bare skin.
~xXx~
Countless accessories clattering to the floor as Brooke hooked her arms under Sam's thighs, lifting her up onto the cheerleader's dresser and ignoring the grunt of pain from the journalist as a stray perfume bottle dug into her back.
~xXx~
The reverberating thud as the two girls hit the floor beside Brooke's bed, missing it in their haste as hands fumbled with belts and zippers.
~xXx~
Brooke's nails leaving furrows in Sam's back, droplets of blood welling to the surface as she cried out, voice muffled in the crook of girl's neck, who similarly shared in her ecstasy, leaving imprints of her hands on the taller girl's shoulder and waste, ones that would bruise no doubt.
~xXx~
And the aftermath.
Once the figurative dust settled, both girls lay entangled, the quilt pulled off the bed so far above, to cover them. Once their breathing slowed, dark brown met hazel, and the sound of laughter filled the room.
"Well that was... Something…"
"I'll say, I'm bleeding in multiple places, and I swear some sort of damage has occurred to my spine."
"You think you have it bad? My shoulder looks like it's been mauled by a zombie, and I think I may have lost part of my scalp on account of 'your' hair-pulling towards the end."
"Hyperbole my dear McQueen, at least I didn't draw blood."
"Fair enough." The cheerleader situated herself closer to Sam, ignoring the aches that no doubt would make a grand appearance tomorrow. She wrapped her lanky frame around the brunette, letting out a sigh as she gently traced the red scratches on the pale collarbone before her. "I guess what they say about break up sex is true."
"... That it requires both parties to have been involved so they can break up before the subsequent sex?"
"Clever Sammy. Real clever." A grin suddenly downturned as Brooke lifted her head slightly, surveying her room in shambles.
"So how are we ever going to explain the damage to Dad and Jane?"
~xXx~
Jane and Mike stood expectantly, not missing the way the girls sorely held themselves, Brooke's neck awash with what appeared to be hickeys, badly hidden by the scarf wrapped around it, or the scratches on Sam's arms.
"Earthquake." They both answered, faces straight.
"Yeah, it was a pretty small one, but they can happen almost anywhere and you see the damage..." Brooke trailed off, realizing just how lame their excuse sounded, not to mention that her voice had risen an octave too high. But the girl's surprise, Mike and Jane both nodded.
"Right, well we're glad you two are okay. Why don't you go see what you two can clean up upstairs?" Jane requested, almost rolling her eyes as Brooke and Sam all but fled up the staircase.
"So." She turned to Mike, looping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest as his arms encircled her. "Now do you agree we had to get away so they could get this out of their system?"
Mike smiled gently, kissing the top of his fiancé's head.
"As weirded out as I am by the situation, it was only a matter of time. Any longer and they'd have killed one another." He smirked into Jane's hair. "At least they can't get pregnant."
Jane loosened her hold, smacking Mike's arm and groaned. "Shut it. The less I think about our daughters… together the more I can function as a human. Now help me get this cleaned up."
~xXx~
Sam sat on the end of Brooke's bed, watching her straighten the last of the perfume bottles and discard the shattered crystal from ones on the floor and into the trash. She reached out a hand and pulled the cheerleader into her lap, wrapping her arms around the lanky waist, her chin resting on Brooke's shoulder.
"So McQueen. How about we go on a date?"
Brooke raised an eyebrow and tilted her head at the question.
"That was rather unexpected McPherson, did your skull connect with the wall one to many times?"
Sam laughed, tightening her hold. "No Brooke. I figured if we date it's only a matter of time before we start fighting again and break up – "
"Leading to a repeat of today?"
"Exactly."
Brooked threw an arm over the journalist's neck, leaning down slightly to kiss her, however gently this time, mindful of both their bruised lips.
"Sounds like a plan Sammy." She shifted, dropping her head to the shoulder before her, energy long since expended. "Hey, do you think Dad and Jane bought the shoddy 'earthquake' story?"
Sam grinned, her eyes sparkling.
"They didn't say anything, did they? Of course they bought it."