Title: Who Needs Mistletoe?

Author: K8

Email: Brain_Damaged_psycho@hotmail.com (Feed back would best be left there, I check it more often and don’t quite know how to check feed back on here.)

Fandom: Popular

Feedback: Anything’s appreciated. I'm working on becoming a better writer, so the more critical, the better. Besides, if you don't feed me then I will starve and be unable to post. :(

Pairings: S/B

Ratings: PG-13 for smoochies

Warnings: If the idea of two women involved in a not-quite-platonic relationship upsets you… well what are you doing in this group? I mean, turn back now… yes, that’s what I meant.

Disclaimers: Everything important belongs to Ryan Murphy (well… almost everything important... the mistletoe belongs to me, but as I point out in the story, it's not really that important) Oh, and the song belongs to Mariah Carey. (Also pointed out in the story)

Brooke sat back against the headboard of her bed and pouted. She had spent all of Christmas trying to lure Sam under the mistletoe but every attempt had been in vain. Something would always hamper her attempts at getting Sam where she wanted. Sam would go out of her way to dodge any mistletoe locations and on the happenstance that she did stumble beneath one of the traditional plants, it would be at the most inopportune moments, like say, when their friends were nearby.  Needless to say, Brooke was just a tad frustrated and disappointed in the outcome of this year’s Christmas.

‘Especially after Sam’s wonderful karaoke session during the party,’ Brooke thought to herself, reminiscing on the happenings of earlier that evening…

SD had finally retired from spinning music for the evening and the girls were now setting up the karaoke machine. All of the guests, from jolly old Carmen to the Grinch formally known as Nicole, were raring to get the singing undergo. (Even though their reasons may be different, such as Nicole’s. Truthfully, she just wanted to have something to talk about when school went back into session.)

Brooke wasn’t really in the mood to listen to her friends butcher song after song. She decided to preoccupy herself with cleaning the kitchen of the mess made at dinner. She listened safely from her hiding place, only catching bits and pieces of the acts taking place in the living room. A particularly high-pitched screech of, “Hit me baby one more time,” from Harrison caused her to cringe and drop the glass she was washing. Lucky for her, it landed back in the dishwater, saving her from having to explain the broken piece of good china to the parents. She would have resumed her dishwashing if not for the sound of an angelic voice drifting into the kitchen and wrapping itself around her.

“Sam,” Brooke whispered, almost reverently.

She raced into the living room, hands still covered in suds and now dripping onto the carpet, just as Sam began one of Brooke’s favorite Christmas songs.

I don't want a lot for Christmas,
There's just one thing I need.
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree.
I just want you for my own,
More than you could ever know.
Make my wish come true,
All I want for Christmas is...

Sam swung her gaze up and held Brooke’s as she dutifully worked her way through Mariah Carey’s version of her favorite Christmas song. As much as she might hate the singer, the song itself held special meaning to her, and singing Brooke’s favorite version of it was just another way to prove her feelings for the cheerleader.

The instrumentals kicked in and Sam lost herself in the song and Brooke’s eyes. Soon, no one and nothing existed to either girl but each other. They were alone and Sam was singing only to Brooke. Every word Sam sang drove straight into Brooke’s heart and left her smiling like an idiot, her heart swelling in her chest. She had had an inkling that Sam might have felt more then just sisterly towards her for a while now, but this confirmed it.

The sound of roaring applause as Sam wrapped up the song broke the girls out of their reverie. Even Nic was clapping for her, albeit begrudgingly.  Sam gave Brooke a soft smile before turning to the rest of their friends and bowing flamboyantly.

“Thanks guys,” Sam mumbled as she righted herself, a blush overtaking her features.

“Wow Sam,” Lily praised, “I had no idea you could sing like that.”

“Me either,” Harrison and Carmen chimed in.

“That was beautiful,” Brooke whispered so only Sam could hear.

Sam blushed even redder at Brooke’s quiet praise and her smile threatening to split her face in two. She thanked them all again and headed to the kitchen to assist in the after-dinner clean up, artfully dodging the mistletoe in the doorway. (Much to Brooke’s chagrin. Now that she knew Sam felt the same towards her as she did towards the budding journalist, she wanted to confirm it… with a kiss.)

Brooke was broken out of her memories by the sound of a knock on her door. She looked up in time to see a Santa hat poke through her door followed by Sam’s smiling face.

“Mind if I come in, Princess?” Sam asked, already slipping into the room.

Brooke beamed at Sam’s affectionate nickname for her and nodded her head in acquiescence. She watched as Sam walked over to her bed and sat at the foot of it, the brunette’s gaze never leaving hers.

“You were amazing tonight,” Brooke complimented, watching as a blush once again adorned her cheeks.

“Ya?” Sam asked, slightly doubtful that she could have been that good.

Brooke slid closer, her earlier surly mood vanishing as she neared Sam. She linked hands with the other girl and grinned, “Yes, Sam. It was beautiful.”

Sam’s self doubt was erased and replaced with something akin to courage, “Just like you, Princess.” She squeezed Brooke’s hand and was filled with warmth by the love she could see in the blonde’s eyes. “Oh,” Sam added, almost as an afterthought, “and don’t think I didn’t notice your not-so-subtle attempts to catch me under the mistletoe.”

Brooke blushed and looked away from the smirk on Sam’s face. She knew she must have looked like a fool as she tried to corner Sam but she had just been so desperate to show Sam how much the song had moved her.

“Hey,” Sam said softly, cupping Brooke’s chin and bringing her eyes back up to her own, “ don’t be embarrassed. I’m flattered, really, but…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Brooke rushed in, cutting Sam off completely in her panic and fear of rejection. ‘I read the signs wrong,’ she thought to herself.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just, I heard the song and I thought…”

Sam realized that Brooke had misinterpreted her but and tried to fix the mistake, “Brooke…”

“… That maybe you felt the same for me as I felt for you.”

“Brooke,” Sam tried again.

“But I was obviously wrong and now I’ve made things awkward for us…”

“BROOKE!” Sam tried shouting to get her attention, but Brooke was persistent in her self defamation.

“…And I’m so sorry, Sammy. It’s just, I’ve waited so long to find out my feelings were reciprocated and then with the song and the way you were looking at me I thought…”

Sam sighed and shook her head as Brooke continued to ramble on. ‘This is going to take a serious move to intervene,’ she thought to herself.

“…That now was my chance to show you mmphh.”

Brooke’s words were silenced by a pair of what had to be the world’s softest lips pressing against hers. Or at least that’s what Brooke thought as Sam crushed their lips together, effectively putting an end to her rant. She felt Sam’s hand curl around her waist, pulling her closer. A curious tongue came into play and swept across her lips, seeking permission. Brooke groaned and parted her lips, allowing Sam entrance. Sam slipped her hot, wet tongue into Brooke’s mouth and began to explore. Both girls moaned at the new contact and began reclining on the bed with Sam on top.

A soft, fluffy object bumping into her forehead brought Brooke out of her lust-filled haze. She opened her eyes to see a little white pompom resting on her head and Sam’s eyes twinkling in mirth.

“Guess I should take this off hey?” Sam said, indicating to her Santa hat which was still seated firmly on her head.

Brooke didn’t respond verbally. She simply tore the hat from Sam’s head and wrapped her arms around the brunette’s neck, pulling her in for another heated kiss.

“Mmphh,” Sam mumbled as she crashed back onto the cheerleader below her. Sam shifted so she lay half on top of Brooke and leisurely began to explore Brooke’s skin with the hand that had previously been sitting idly on the other girl’s waist.

Brooke gasped at the feeling of Sam’s palm as it burned a trail up her side. All rationale was slowly leaving her as their movements became frenzied.

“Sam, wait,” she managed to gasp out.

Sam’s head shot up from its current position at the cheerleader’s neck and her hand stilled.

“What’s wrong, Brooke?” Sam asked, fearing that the blonde had changed her mind.

Brooke could hear the unease in Sam’s voice and realized that Sam must be thinking she was having second thoughts. “I need to know that this is more then just a one night thing,” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

Sam’s fears were allayed  and a soft smile formed on her lips. “Of course it is, Princess,” she assured the blonde, “You mean way too much to me for it be anything menial like that. I’m in this for the long run, that is, if you want me…”

Tears filled Brooke’s eyes as she nodded vigorously. “Yes. Oh Sammy, yes,” she punctuated her agreement with a searing kiss. The kiss continued on for a few minutes before Sam pulled back.

“I want you,” she voiced huskily.

Brooke looked up into near-black eyes and felt the fire in her lower stomach erupt at the desire she found there. “Are you sure?” she asked, needing to be sure Sam was positive about this. She didn’t want the other girl to regret giving her this gift when she awoke tomorrow like she did with Josh.

Sam only nodded in response, her eyes lidded and lips parted as desire like she had never known coursed through her. There was no one she would rather share this with then the blonde beneath her.

“Then I’m yours, Sammy,” Brooke whispered lovingly.

Sam practically growled in response as she lowered her lips to Brooke’s in a tender, yet scorching kiss. She kissed a path along the cheerleader’s jaw to her ear.

“You know,” Sam said in a sultry voice, taking Brooke’s earlobe between her teeth and nipping gently, eliciting a moan from Brooke, “if you wanted to kiss me all you really had to do was say so. Who needs mistletoe?”


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