Author's Note: These are drabbles written for the "sambrookeisotp" community. I've decided to collect them here and add a chapter with new ones at the end of each month. Or at least, that's the plan as long as I keep writing them. These are written in response to weekly prompts, so if you're interested in seeing them as they come, or even writing them yourself, check out the community.

Of Pigskin and Mountaintops

Prompt: Heights

Solitude

Brooke wakes alone in their tent. It's midmorning, but the sky is dark; she can hear the pitter-patter of drops on the fabric overhead. Lazily, she puts on her shoes and grabs a raincoat, pads out into the light summer rain.

Her parents are camped out under a large tree, trying to make breakfast without getting wet. She can see Sam a little further up the trail, out by the cliff.

Sam doesn't turn when Brooke approaches. She sits cross-legged in the mud with her clothes soaked through. Her eyes are guarded and looking out over the edge.

The mountains are majestic, even in the rain. From far away, they don't look imposing at all, even though the truth is very different. They're wide and sombre, tall and unmoving, callous and capped with snow.

Sam shivers. Brooke crouches next to her. "Are you cold?"

Yes. No. Not from the rain. "No."

"What do you see out there, Sam?"

"Solitude." They've been camping three days now, but the rain hasn't stopped yet. She's had plenty of time to think about it.

Brooke leans close, and Sam shivers again, eyes suddenly fixed on her stepsister. It's raining all around them, cold and wet, but Brooke is here, and Brooke is warm. Brooke is a lot of other things too -- shining eyes, smooth skin, and long blonde hair. Brooke is gentle and bright and kind.

When she speaks, Sam watches the words appear. She watches soft pink lips dripping with rainwater, and she has to clench her jaw to keep from kissing them.

"Why are you sitting in the rain, Sam?"

Because sometimes, she thinks that if it rains hard enough, it just might make her clean again.

Prompt: Cliffs

Cliffdiving

"Why are you doing this?"

Sam doesn't answer, pushes past Brooke and up the stairs.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

She's at the top when Brooke catches her, spins her around.

"Why are you like this?"

She tries to slip away, but Brooke pins her against the wall.

"Why won't you even talk to me?"

Sam's never jumped off a cliff before, but she thinks this must be what it feels like; because she's kissing Brooke, and it's just like falling. It's like tumbling through the air – exhilarating, free, and a little bit scary. Because even though a mile of free-fall is harmless, the stop at the end isn't.

So when they finally pull apart, after a minute of falling, Sam looks away, afraid that the ending just might kill her. But there's only Brooke, with trembling hands and a quiet voice. "Kiss me again."

Sam does, and the ground beneath disappears along with her imaginary cliff. It's just Brooke and her, falling, and she wishes it'll never end.

Prompt: Football

Fourth and Goal

Sam and Mike are in the kitchen when Brooke comes home. "How'd it go?" Her father asks.

Brooke drops her bag by the door, eyes their snacks before speaking. "Kennedy has the ball. Two seconds left, five points down, fourth and goal. Six inches, maybe." She collapses into a chair. "George got sacked."

Sam doesn't know what Brooke's talking about, and Mike already looks appropriately concerned, so she turns towards the ice cream instead. She went to a game once, but didn't learn anything and hated it. She hated herself for being one of those people, the ones who go to football games just to watch the cheerleaders. She's never understood football, or cheerleading for that matter, but she does know losing, and that there's no pain that ice cream can't numb.

So when Brooke sits down there's a bowl waiting for her – cold, creamy, and chocolate. There's a crooked smile, and Sam wishing she could take Brooke's hands and kiss the sadness away.

Prompt: Cheer

Gridiron Limelight

Brooke hates it when Sam comes to the game. Because while Brooke might be able to fool the rest of the crowd with smiling cartwheels in short skirts, she knows that Sam sees right through her. Sam makes her feel like the field is empty and that it's just the two of them staring across the open air. Sam makes her feel like cheering is stupid, that cheers are somehow shallow and cheesy. Which they probably are, in addition to being popular and catchy.

So when Brooke sits down again, after the cheer, she tries very hard not to look at the long dark hair in the last row of the stands. And she'll never admit it, but she thinks that Sam is pretty, funny, smart, and unique; whereas she herself, is just cheering. Because Brooke is eyes-wide jaw-dropped tongue-tied heart-stopped staring, and Sam is beautiful without trying.

July 2008