Three Times Table: Brooke

Fandom: Popular

Title: Three Times Table: Brooke

Author: Carla

Rating: PG-13 for the occassional cuss word

Pairing: Brooke/April

Disclaimer: Not mine don't own 'em. Never have never will. That honor goes to some chap named Ryan Murphy and a bunch of suits at Touchstone Television. No profit made, no harm intended. This entirely original work of fiction is mine however.

Archiving: Yes to the Realm and whatever lists I post it to. All others please ask. This can be found at http://www.realmoftheshadow.com/carla.htm

Feedback: Yes please either on list or off at cmfloresfd@yahoo.com

Author's Note(s): What little of the show I know really is attributable to Alan and Paul. So thanks guys because any actual canon in here is strictly thanks to you. This isn't beta-ed so any and all mistakes are mine. I take full credit and full blame.

I choose the title, Three Times Table, because I thought it would be neat to not only explore the how and why of Brooke/April but also give voice to April. While later on giving Sam's POV/reaction to having walked in on Brooke and April. . This part is Brooke's POV during the inevitable conversation with Sam late at night after April has left and the 'rents are asleep. At some point, when I am not sure, I'll write and post Sam's POV and April's as well.

Enjoy.

"Ah yes the episode where the little girl…Hold on a minute I think someone’s at the door." I get up from my bed, silently make my way to the door and yank it open to find Sam standing there looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. "I think Sam has some questions. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?" You say, I love you and I say me too and then we hang up. The look on Sam’s face has changed to one of open curiosity, which frankly looks better on her than that whole Bambi thing.

"Can I help you?" For some reason I’m on the defensive already. Sam standing there gawking at me like I just grew a third head is probably the reason and I have to suppress an almost visceral urge to slap her upside the head. "It’s almost two AM Sam shouldn’t you be asleep?"

"Shouldn’t you?" Sam smirks, "Who were you just talking to?"

Standing aside I wave her into my room, "Don’t even think of sitting on the bed". Sam changes direction and sits down at my desk. She swivels around to face me, judging from the looks she’s giving me she’s torn between wanting to know why I won’t let her sit on the bed like I normally do and wanting to talk about what she saw earlier this evening. I flop down on the bed, facing her and grab the pillow you were using earlier when we were cuddling and making out. The pillow smells like you, like the patchouli you’ve been wearing lately and something else I can’t quite put my finger on, vanilla maybe, and I inhale deeply. It’s funny how just breathing in the scent you wear calms me down, relaxes me like nothing else.

"Sooooooo?" Sam’s slowly bobbing her head up and down in a grotesque parody of one of those bobble head things you collect.

"So?"

"So umm…does any one else know? Am I supposed to keep it a secret? What about Mom and Mike? Nicole? How long has this been going on anyway and just what is it that’s going on anyway? Are you gay now or what or is this just some sort of speed bump on the Highway of Hetero-normality for you?"

"May. No but I’d really rather you not go shouting it from the rooftops if you know what I mean. I haven’t told them yet. Not if I want to live to go to Prom. A couple of weeks, almost three months. We’re dating. I don’t know for sure but I think so. And finally, I resent the term ‘speed bump’, what ever this is between us, between April and me, what ever it is it’s not a speed bump. Or a detour or any other metaphor out of Car and Driver."

"Seriously Brooke, April…April Tuna the girl who semi-stalked Carmen for months, her sister eats dirt for God’s sake."

"I know gross isn’t it."

"How" Sam started flapping her hands around, like she always does when she’s looking for the right way to say something. "I mean I didn’t think you even knew April Tuna existed. Shit I mean I’m by no means one of the Popular crowd, we both know that, not that I’d want to be anyway, but still April…she’s…you don’t get much lower rung then that. She’s like Queen of the Geeks for fucks sake."

"What are you channeling Nicole now? That’s the kind of idiotic statement I’d expect from her not you."

"I’m sorry it’s just - c’mon you gotta cut me some slack here – how surprised would you have been in my place think about it?"

"You’re right, no doubt I would have been surprised. And I appreciate that you didn’t make a huge deal out of it when she was here or in front of Mom and Dad."

"Yeah sure. So how…"

"Remember when I was running for Homecoming?"

"Yeah"

"Well I went to meet and greet with the chess club and she was there."

"That’s it?!" Sam’s right eyebrow has taken up residence in her hairline.

"No if you’d let me finish, is this how you conduct interviews constantly interrupting your subject?"

"You’re not a subject you’re my sister." Well that was a surprise, I thought Sam more or less tolerated me as an Evil-Step type but her voice when she said that actually held a note of fondness.

"Oh! Well then…sorry." I take another deep breath with my face buried in your pillow before continuing. "Anyway there were only three or four of them there and they introduced themselves and we chatted for a few. But at the end of it all one guy asked me what his name was and I couldn’t remember which was really kinda shitty given that I’d only been told it less than half an hour before. Turns out though that I’d been in school with this kid for years, in his classes in his homeroom even and I’d never even learned his name. Never even noticed him."

"And this has to do with April how?"

"The next day I was in the library and she came up to me…she lit into me asking me where did I get off being that self absorbed, that shallow that I couldn’t even remember Freddie’s name minutes after being introduced for the most likely bazillionth time. Anyway we just started talking. Or rather I started defending myself and she lectured me but by the time the library closed we’d moved onto other things like books and movies, music sisters. You know stuff. After that we just, we’d sit together and study and just talk, you know about anything, anything at all." Sam still looks confused, I think maybe I need to be a little clearer. "She sees Me Sam. No one’s ever really looked at me before Sam. I don’t mean the outside me. I mean the Me that likes cheesy romance novels, bad movies, The Go-Gos and Gwyneth. And also the Me that likes pretty things, that’s fashion conscientious and…I’m sorry did you just mumble something."

"No" Sam’s eyes are downcast though avoiding my gaze.

"You sure cause I could swear I heard you mumble "Fashion Nazi"." I know she did even though she’s denying it. "I mean think about it how big a Fashion Nazi can I really be Sam?" Unspoken is the fact that my girlfriend has to be one of the biggest fashion disasters out there.

"Granted" Sam smirks and once again I’m struck by the urge to slap her. I got off the phone with you for this, I think not.

"But you see Sam that’s just it, it doesn’t matter. Just like she sees me I see her. And the clothes, the chess thing, the massive books even obsessing with Carmen, all of that its just her…idiosyncrasies. They’re just a part of her and I find all of it charming. On her, on anyone else it’s hideous but with her I can handle it. She makes me laugh and she’s interested in me, all of me not just the surface. And I can talk to her about anything…even about you know."

"Your’ eating disorder?"

"Yeah. Even that."

"Wow." I can hear in Sam’s voice that she understands just how big a thing my being able to talk to you about my eating disorder is for me. "She makes you happy huh?"

"Very" I can feel this huge smile on my face just thinking about you.

"That’s some smile." Sam stands and opens the door. Just before she closes it completely behind her she pokes her head back in. "I’m happy for you Brooke. I’m glad you found someone…really."

"Thanks Sam."

"One more question."

"Shoot."

"Is she a good kisser?" The paperback on my nightstand hits the door missing her by a fraction of a second. I’ll be damned if I’m going to share just how good a kisser you are with Sam.

Carla

It's a one time thing...it just happens a lot. (Suzanne Vega, Cracking)