Disclaimer: I don't own characters or canon story.
Campy! Part Deux et finale!
"It's really cramped in here."
"It's really cold in here..."
"Should've brought that extra blanket, right, Princess."
Brooke was a little disappointed that Sam's claustrophobic cynicism wasn't conducive to cuddling.
"Well, at least it's not really wet in here." Sam instantly regretted making that statement, as not a second later the first drops of the soon-to-be thundering rainstorm splattered on the top of the tent.
Brooke turned to Sam, mischievous thoughts struggling to escape her. She lifted an edge of her deluxe, doubled sized sleeping bag and patted the ground.
"Double bed is nice and cozy..."
Sam grumbled, but dislodged herself from her sleeping bag to join Brooke.
"Why the sudden change of mind? Don't tell me the great Sam McPherson is scared of thunderstorms!"
"Don't push it, Brooke." Sam muttered, wiggling into place.
A few moments passed before Brooke sighed, a new topic gracing the air.
"Friendship is... warm."
Sam turned her head, bringing the two face to face, "Yeah..."
As her voice trailed off into the raucous air, Sam licked her lips. Her eyes turned dark and questioning, intently searching Brooke. For that instant, Brooke flushed, imagining, knowing that Sam had seen right through her. Within seconds, Sam's gaze relaxed, her usual smirk regaining her lips.
She turned over, relaxing again, pulling Brooke's free arm across her body and lacing their fingers together, sending shockwaves through Brooke's blood vessels.
"Friendship. It's nice." The pointed statement was simple, conclusive, and oozing with undertones.
Brooke's breath came in deep, slow gasps to keep up with her pounding heart. Sam knew. Sam knew everything. Every plan, dream, fantasy was in the open. And Sam wasn't going to do anything about it. She'd just roll over with that gorgeous smile, ready to hold it over Brooke's head for eternity, pretending she knew nothing. Torturous, feigned ignorance.
'But' she thought as Sam's sleeping form sighed and twitched, tightening the lock of their fingers, 'Maybe not all forms of torture are bad."