Title: Destiny

Author: Alan Hitchen

Email: darkmere2000@yahoo.co.uk

Archive: http://www.realmoftheshadow.com/alan.htm

Disclaimers: Popular is the property of Touchstone Television. Tangled belongs to Dritte World Media Productions GmbH. Sam's poem is an extract from Vicious Cycle by Milton Boyle.

Pairings: Josh/Brooke, Sam/Elise

Rating: R (for sexual references)

Information: This future-fic is based on the feature film 'Tangled' written by Jeffrey Lieber. In the film Elise Stevens is played by Estella Warren.

Summary: Sam loves Brooke, but Josh loves Brooke too. Can there be a happy ending?

Part One

Where to begin?

Well, I guess that would be when I started at Kennedy High and I met Brooke McQueen for the first time. Though 'met' is exactly what we didn't do. Her being the popular cheerleader and I being not I just despised her from a distance, while she didn't even know I existed.

Sophomore year was completely different. We clashed repeatedly. The fact that our parents were getting married, forcing us together, only served to underline our differences.

Junior year saw a thaw in the 'Great Sam-Brooke War', as my friend Lily had dubbed it, which officially ended when I saved Brooke from Nicole in a speeding car.

Senior year was one of change. We finally became friends. Our parents got married. And thanks to cross-adoption we officially became sisters to each other as well as to baby Mackenzie.

And I came out.

I think I had always known I was different from other girls but it wasn't until I fell in love with Brooke that I knew for sure. I didn't tell her that. Only that I was a lesbian. And she supported me every inch of the way, for which I was very grateful, though I drew the line at the 'I'm not gay but my sister is' tee-shirt.

Anyway, high school ended and college began. We decided to attend Cal State together. Brooke majoring in creative photograpy, minoring in photo-journalism. While I chose to major in journalism and minor in creative writing.

It's now senior year. How time flies. Graduation and the big, wide world beckons. And I still haven't told Brooke how I feel about her.

...

Sam stopped writing, glanced at the clock on her desk and looked out of her window. Brooke's latest date had concluded on time. She could see her in the street below, hugging him in a friendly fashion as an alternative to kissing, which she clearly didn't want to do. As she hugged him she turned her thumb down behind her back and looked up pleadingly to Sam's window. Sam snatched up the cordless handset and pressed the speed-dial button. Inside Brooke's apartment the phone began to ring.

"I should get that. Bye!" said Brooke, darting quickly in through the street door, leaving the hapless boy high and dry.

Sam waited for Brooke to reach the first floor apartment and make her report. "Thanks for the save," she gasped into the phone.

"That bad, huh?" said Sam, trying not to sound pleased that yet another date had gone sour.

Brooke flopped into a chair and began to undo her blouse. "No, not bad, just nothing. Totally flat."

Well, what did you expect when he invited you out to watch an all-girl wrestling match?"

"I don't know, that it would be cute, or kinky, or something. Anything would have done."

"So, do you have any plans for the rest of tonight?"

"Bath, book, bed, you?"

"I've got a paper due. I was going to get a coffee from the shop then finish it."

Brooke's eyes turned to the window. She could see Sam watching from her window across the way. Having a height advantage she knew Sam could see right into her apartment. "What are you looking at?" she asked, perfectly aware it was her.

"Nothing," Sam replied innocently, her eyes firmly fixed on Brooke.

Brooke got up and removed the blouse, revealing the white bra underneath. Moving out of Sam's sight to disrobe completely, she returned wearing a pink towel to cover her modesty. "See you tomorrow then," she said, returning to the phone.

"Wait, wait, Brooke, do you believe that there's one person? You know, one person for everyone."

"Absolutely. I believe in destiny. I believe you see someone, the big green light goes on, and that's it. There they are. The one person for you."

"But what if it's a friend and you don't realise that they're the one until later?"

"There's a difference between friends and lovers, Sam," said Brooke, teasingly dropping the towel just as she moved out of sight again, "a big difference."

...

At the GLBT picnic mixer, having loaded their plates, Brooke and Sam were considering where to sit when a young man approached carrying a plate heaped high with barbequed chicken. Beaming from ear to ear he headed straight for the ex-cheerleader.

"Josh!" exclaimed Brooke in total surprise. "What are you doing at CSU?"

"Still a vegetarian I see," Sam pointedly remarked.

"What? Oh, yes, good to see you too, Sam. I have given up meat. I just can't give up chicken."

"Lily would be so proud," Sam snarked, itching to slap that smug smile off his face.

"Sam," Brooke said reprovingly, leading Josh off to sit at the nearest empty table, "that's not nice."

"Not a day goes by that I don't regret what I did," Josh admitted, taking his seat opposite the girls. "But you can't change the past, can you? How is Lily?"

"Busy saving the Brazilian rainforest," Sam replied coldly.

"Good for her," Josh said with a smile.

Sam glowered back. "She's doing it for our good."

"Did I say she wasn't?"

"So," Brooke quickly interjected, "how's your mom, how are you, and what are you doing here?"

"Good, fine, and I'm a student."

"You are? Studying what?"

"Dramatic Arts. I was never academic, dumb as a box of rocks as you'll recall. Sport was my Dad's idea, but that didn't work out. I always wanted to act, so drama it is."

"How long have you been here?"

"I transferred this semester."

"Why?"

"You." Sam almost choked on her salad. "I came here for you, Brooke. But," he glanced up at the rainbow coloured banners fluttering in the breeze above them, "is there something you want to tell me first?"

Brooke didn't immediately catch on to his meaning. "Huh?"

Sam intervened. "Relax, Josh. I'm the dyke, not Brooke."

"Sam! We don't use that word, and certainly not here."

Sam slapped her own wrist. "No, Mom, we don't." She rose from the table. "I'm getting a drink. Want one?"

"No, thanks," said Brooke, instantly switching her attention back to Josh. "Now, tell me everything that's happened to you since you left Kennedy."

Looking back at the chatting couple, Sam realised she'd been totally forgotten in a couple of seconds.

And that hurt like hell.

...

"And why are we helping him again?" Sam enquired.

"Because that's what friends do," said Brooke.

"But we don't even know Josh's roommate. Why is he moving out anyway?"

"Trouble at home, but that's his business, you're not going to interrogate him."

"No, just hump his belongings out to the van," Sam groaned. "And make room for you to move in," she said under her breath.

...

Sam climbed the fire-escape to Brooke's window and tapped on the glass. Brooke opened it to let her in. "So, I wrote this poem," Sam said, taking a place at the breakfast table while Brooke poured the milk over her cereal. "Be honest now. I can take it."

"You mean," Brooke said with a twinkle in her eyes, "tell you that I hate it."

"If you do, yes." Sam cleared her throat and began to read: "Her beauty has a kind of ugliness, a strangulated loveliness. Compressing the jugular of my sensitivity as ivy tourniquets trunk of tree. Turning the arboreal royalty into beanpole servitors; burying the berries in a fruitless operation. So that the name of her, asininely monosyllabic, the mere label she goes by. Yet pulsing with drumbeat... What?"

Sam looked up to find Brooke standing over her. She leaned down to plant a kiss on Sam's forehead. "I hate it," she said with a huge smile.

"You're strangely happy," Sam observed, beaming back at the ecstatic blonde.

"Josh asked me out today. I took his call just before you arrived," Brooke said excitedly. "It's only a movie," she added, seeing the frown that had appeared on Sam's face.

"I thought you said you weren't going to rush into anything with Josh?"

"I'm not. It's a movie, not an engagement party. I'm taking it slow. Promise."

"Be careful, Brooke, or he'll hurt you. He's done it before, he can easily do it again."

"I know, but things are different now. We're different now."

Sam's sceptical expression disagreed.

...

Sam watched anxiously as Josh walked Brooke up the street to the door where he said goodnight. A full-on liplock ensued. The phone began to ring in her apartment. "I should get that," Brooke said feebly, before continuing to kiss Josh even harder than before. Sam turned away from the window and slammed the handset down in disgust.

Later - much later - Sam's phone began to ring. She continued to lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling, so the answering machine clicked in to take Brooke's message. "Sam? I know you're still up. I can see your light's still on. Pick up please. No? Okay, you've fallen asleep at the wheel, I'll catch you tomorrow."

...

"How much longer?" Josh complained.

"Just one more roll," said Brooke, reloading her mother's old Nikon F with yet more film. She refocussed her camera on Josh and took in the fact that he had removed his boxers and was now completely naked. And to judge from a certain part of his anatomy he was pleased to see her, very pleased indeed.

"So, what do you think of this pose?" he asked.

"I'm going to need a bigger lens," she grinned back. Then joined him on the bed, photography, for the moment, forgotten.

...

"It's Brooke again. Your light is on and I know you're in. You're very busted. Please, Sam. Please pick up the phone. We need to talk."

...

The keg party was in full swing and Sam had just got herself a beer when Brooke appeared at her side. "Since when do I have to track you down to talk to you?"

"Excuse me," Sam said quietly, handed her the drink, then made for the exit. Brooke, momentarily confused, set down the drink and gave chase, calling out after Sam on the sidewalk outside.

"Why are you treating me like this, what have I done?!"

Sam stopped in mid-stride and turned back to face Brooke as she caught up. "I gave you good advice and you completely disregarded it. Or is rampant sex at all hours your idea of taking it slow?"

"What? This is all because I disregarded your advice? And what would you know, Sam? When was the last time you even dated, let alone held down a meaningful relationship?"

Brooke knew she'd gone too far when she saw the pain betrayed by Sam's expressive dark-brown eyes and instantly wished she could take it back.

"So he's it? He's the one for you? I'm really happy for you, Brooke, very happy." Sam turned again and walked quickly away, leaving the final words, "Just include me out, okay?" ringing in Brooke's ears.

Part Two

"You know, you're a hard woman to find. A crazy golf course would be the last place I'd've looked," said Josh.

Sam paused her backswing but kept her eye on the little white ball. "So who told you I was here?" she asked.

"Brooke gave me a list of places to check."

"Ah."

"Why crazy golf?"

"Why not? It's something I got from Harrison. He found golf relaxing. So do I." Sam grounded the club, straightened up and looked at Josh. "Why are you here? Not to tackle this windmill, I'm sure of that."

"Look, I know you're still sore at me over Lily and I deserve that, but don't punish Brooke for something I did. Besides, I'm not the jerk I once was. I've changed."

"People hardly ever change, Josh. Brooke can't see that but I can... What if I asked you to walk away?"

"What if I told you I can't do that?"

"Then I'd say we have a problem."

"Be fair. Give me a chance to prove myself. Not for my sake but for Brooke's. She really misses you."

"Does she?" Sam paused to deliberate. "Okay, I'll give you a chance - for Brooke's sake. Now, if you don't mind, you're spoiling my concentration."

...

In the corner of a local bar a well-built blonde with long wavy tresses, wearing a tiny black dress that showed every curve, was talking and laughing with her friends. Josh had noticed her as soon as they had entered the place, now he realised Sam was watching her too. He decided he could earn some brownie points from this.

"You like her? Go talk to her," He said, nudging Brooke and pointing out the entrancing girl.

"Yes, Sam, ask her out," Brooke encouraged.

Sam shrank back from the prospect. "She's probably not gay. Or if she is, she's sitting with her girlfriend."

"Ever the optimist, eh, Sam? What if she's just waiting for the right girl to ask her for a date?"

Sam shook her head. "No, I couldn't."

"Yes, you can." Brooke stood up. "Okay, if you won't then I will." Sam didn't move, silently calling Brooke's bluff. "Right," said Brooke, and set off across the room.

"Brooke, come back," Sam whined uselessly, then buried her head in her hands. A minute later Brooke was back at the table brandishing a napkin. "There you go. She's interested. That's her number. Call her!"

Sam sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright, I'll call her."

...

Next day, at the cafe around the corner from the bar, Sam rose to meet her date. She was now a vision in red, wearing a more casual two-piece ensemble in place of the little black dress of the night before. "Elise, hi, I'm glad you could make it."

"Sam? But I thought..."

"Thought what?"

"That you were the blonde."

"Oh."

"Sorry, that was rude of me." She extended her hand in greeting. "Elise Stevens."

Sam shook the offered hand. "Sam McPherson."

They sat down and Elise began to explain. "The thing is, I'm not really gay. I think. Well, I've thought about it. A lot. But I've never had the courage to, you know, actually do it. So when that hot blonde came straight up to me and asked for my number I thought now would be the time to find out if I am or not. And so here I am."

"Not with the blonde," Sam acknowledged wryly, before changing tack by reaching for the menu and asking, "What sort of things do you like to eat?"

After the meal they left together. Elise lived nearby so Sam walked her home as they continued their conversation.

"So, you're a writer, huh? I once met a writer, well, kinda. He came to our high school. He was that guy that wrote that play about that guy whose father got killed by that uncle who was fucking his mother and then at the end everyone died. You know, they made it into a movie with Mel Gibson."

"Hamlet?"

"Yeah."

"And you met the writer? You met William Shakespear?"

"Uh huh."

"He's dead, you know. Long dead."

Elise laughed. "I know that. You should see your face. I'm kidding. He was an actor playing Shakespear." By now they had reached Elise's apartment. "So, you wanna come up?" she asked invitingly. Sam nodded and followed her inside.

...

That evening, upon her return home, Brooke interrogated Sam over the phone. "How did it go?"

"She was nice."

"Nice? She was gorgeous, and a good kisser too I'll bet."

"She wasn't bad."

"Oooh! Details, I want details!" Brooke panted exitedly.

"Brooke! No details. All you need know is she was very nice. And we're going out again tomorrow."

"See? I told you," Brooke squealed with delight. "This is going to be so great, now we can double date and..." Sam took the phone away from her ear and let Brooke prattle on as she prepared for bed.

...

"Hi, honey, I'm home," Brooke announced as she let herself into Josh's apartment. "I know I said I was going out with Sam tonight, but she's got a date with Elise, so here I..." She pushed open the bedroom door to find Elise, semi-naked and on all fours, being penetrated from behind by Josh. "...am."

It was hard to tell which of them was the most shocked. Josh stoped in mid-grunt, Elise muttered, "Oh, shit," and Brooke turned and ran for the door.

Rather too late Josh found his voice. "I'm sorry. Brooke. Brooke! Brooke!! Brooke!!!" he shouted. But she was already long gone.

...

Brooke paced her room relentlessly as Sam sat and watched with a face full of outward dismay, but secretly happy at the turn of events. "That bastard! How could he? And with your girlfriend? Double bastard! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"

An urgent banging on her door brought the rant to a swift halt. "Brooke. Let me in. I need to explain," begged Josh. Sam shook her head, Brooke covered her ears and eventually he went away. But each day he came back, still banging on the door, still begging forgiveness, still getting no reply. A week later, "You can't avoid me forever," was his ominous final shot.

...

Brooke was studying quietly in the library when Josh made good on his statement. Not pausing for recognition he began his pitch immediately. "Brooke, I need to talk to you. You have to let me explain. It wasn't how it looked."

Brooke lept up in a mixture of fear and anger. "Get away from me! Who do you think you are? You betray me. You stalk me like some scary creep I don't even know. You want me to listen, but what you really want is for me to lie down so it'll be easier for you to walk all over me."

"You heard, get away from her," Sam said, rushing out of the stacks to stand between them.

"Stay out of this, Sam."

Sam pushed at him only to be brushed aside by a stinging backhand that sent her sprawling on the floor. "Like father, like son, eh Josh?" she wheezed, struggling to get her wind back as Brooke flew to her aid.

"And men don't have feelings and only women bleed, right? Well, fuck you! Fuck you, both!"

Brooke simply ignored the retreating figure and concentrated on Sam. "Are you alright?"

Sam smiled and made light of it as she regained her feet. "Don't worry, I remember Poppy once said bruise was a good colour for me."

...

The insistent knocking and the muffled sounds of distress brought a bleary-eyed Sam to her door. "Brooke, what's up? It's three in the morning."

"He sent me this," Brooke snuffled, pushing a crumpled scrap of paper into her hand.

Sam read it out loud. "I love you?"

"It was wrapped round a brick that came through my window. I'm so scared. Can I stay here, please?" Sam took the trembling Brooke into her arms and let her cry on her shoulder. "I've got to make him stop," she sobbed.

"It's okay, it's okay," soothed Sam. "We'll make him stop. We'll go to the police tomorrow."

...

The flashing blue lights and crackle of police radios proved to be an irresistable draw to the people of the neighbourhood. Sam found herself just one of the crowd as Josh was led out of his building in handcuffs. The detective following him holding an evidence bag containing 'medicine' much stronger than cough syrup.

...

"We'd already had a tip-off he was dealing. Your harassment complaint gave us the excuse we needed to make a search. Don't worry, he won't be bothering you again."

"Thank you," said Brooke. Hanging up the phone she turned to her expectant friend. "Detective Anders says Josh was dealing drugs. How could I be so wrong about him, Sam?" She began to cry.

"Hey," said Sam, rushing to her side, "he's not worth one of your tears. He let you down, not the other way round."

Brooke took the tissues from Sam and dabbed her eyes, sniffed, and blew her nose. "Sorry. You're right. You won't let me down will you?"

"No, never," Sam affirmed.

"Good," said Brooke and pressed her lips to Sam's. Sam jumped back, startled, she'd not expected this reaction. "Sorry," said Brooke, "I shouldn't have..." Sam swiftly stifled the apology with a kiss of her own. They parted, eyes searching for the answers to unspoken questions.

"You want this?" Brooke asked hesitantly.

"I want you," Sam said with a smile. "I've always wanted you." Then she took her hand and guided the blushing Brooke towards the bedroom.

Later, with all passion temporarily spent, Brooke lay happily on her side, nose to nose with her new lover, her free hand caressing Sam's soft skin and marvelling at her unadorned beauty. "So, you were never in love with Lily?" she asked.

Sam's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "No. Why did you think that?"

"Well, do you remember when we were all locked in the Kennedy restroom?"

"Yes."

"Lily told us she'd kissed Carmen and you were so angry with her. Supposedly because she hadn't confided in you."

Sam's eyebrows rose challengingly. "Supposedly?"

"Come on, you were jealous because she'd kissed Carmen and not you."

"No, I wasn't jealous."

"Was. Was. Was. You didn't even notice when I said I'd also thought about my sexuality."

"You did?"

"Yes, and it was you that made me do that thinking."

"You never said."

"No. Perhaps I should, but it was difficult, and then we became sisters."

"Only on paper."

"Nevertheless, family. That's why I insisted we got separate apartments. I didn't think I could stand the temptation if we lived together."

"And now that we are together?"

"I can't imagine being apart from you. I love you, Sam."

Sam smiled. "And I love you, Brooke."

...

"I love you, Brooke," mouthed Josh as he first entered the courtroom. Scant hours later and after the verdict that included jail and a permanent injunction from ever contacting Brooke he left in silence because Brooke was no longer there to see him humiliated.

But Sam was.

...

He just stood there, expressionless, as the judge sent him to prison. Just imagine his reaction if he had know it was me, that I had set him up. That I had arranged for Brooke to catch him with Elise. That I was the one who threw the brick through the window. That I had planted the drugs and called the Crimebusters hotline. Just imagine if he'd known that.

Of course he would say it was jealousy. And maybe he'd be right. But I have a different word for it.

I call it Destiny.