Title: Wednesday; 11 PM

Author: LLE

Pairing: Sam/Brooke

Rating: M (16+), there be sex here, baby!

Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how much I screw with their heads, or have them screw each other... *cough*

Notes: Just a quick oneshot, mainly written to prove to myself that I can write a sex scene that doesn't completely blow. Nothing graphic, though.

Samantha McPherson rubbed her eyes tiredly as she finished up her assigned article and submitted it for approval and printing via the NY Times intranet, which her home computer was thankfully connected to. Staying at work until the cows came home wasn't her idea of fun, no matter how much she liked her job.

"Just another Wednesday night." The brunette muttered as she logged into her email and idly scanned the contents. "Junk, junk, newsletter, junk, BS, junk, Anna?" Curiously, Sam clicked on the mail from her neighbor and reviewed the message.

Hey Samster,

FedEx came by this morning after you left. I signed for the package.
Come over and pick it up whenever.

Anna

Sam scratched her ear curiously, knowing that she hadn't ordered anything recently. Also, since she'd recently returned from a visit to Santa Monica, she doubted her parents or friends back there would have sent anything.

She glanced at the clock at the lower corner of the monitor. It wasn't quite 10 PM yet.

"Only one way to find out." She told the monitor, and stood, running one hand through her hair to settle it in some semblance of order as she walked out of her apartment and across the small landing.

"Sam, hey." Anna greeted her with a grin as she opened the door. "Come on in."

"Thanks." Sam smiled and amiably followed her younger friend into the apartment, letting the remarkably soothing feel of the place wrap around her like a comforting blanket. "I hope it's not too late."

Anna gave her a look as she shut the door and preceded the brunette into the living room. "Hardly. We're not teenagers anymore, remember?"

Sam chuckled and shook her head. "No, and thank God for small favors. I'm insufferably happy to be out of that phase and well ensconced in my twenties."

"Amen to that." Anna smiled and placed a light kiss to Sam's cheek. "I'll go find that package for you. Hang around."

"I think I'd rather sit, if that's all right with you." Sam deadpanned, grinning at the stuck-out tongue that was her only reply as she reclined comfortably in the couch. A framed photo perched on top of the television caught her eye, and she smiled.

Sam had been living in her apartment for just under six months when Anna had moved in next door. During the time she'd helped her new neighbor move in and redecorate, the two of them had become friends, and then, later on, occasional lovers. It was a purely sexual relationship, reserved solely for the times when neither girl had a special someone, and their beds seemed a little too big for one person. Simple; no strings attached.

Even simpler now, actually. Sam was between romances at the moment, but Anna was seeing someone exclusively, and was very happy about the fact. So, the two of them crossed out the sexual part of their relationship, and went back to being friends. Should they be single at the same time again, they would just pick up where they'd left off.

"Here you go." Anna re-entered the room, waving a small box and grinning crookedly. "It's from your girlfriend."

Sam blinked. "My what?"

Anna tossed her the package and plopped down next to her, laughing as Sam read the name of the sender and smacked her on the arm. "Mackenzie is my sister, goofball. Not my girlfriend."

"I know that." The redhead grinned cheekily. "But the look on your face was worth it."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam grumbled good-naturedly and opened the package. "Wiseass."

"Just one more reason you love me." Anna smiled charmingly and leaned over to peer into the box. "What is it?"

"Looks like a t-shirt to me." Sam pulled the dark green fabric out and shook it out, flushing noticeably as she read the text on the front of the shirt. "Oh, Christ..."

Anna looked at the text and laughed. "H _ M _ S _ X _ _ L? Why yes, I'd love to buy a vowel."

"I told mom not to let Mac watch those damn Wheel of Fortune reruns." Sam muttered. "No 12 year old girl should buy t-shirts like these."

"Aw, come on, Samster." Anna bit back a chuckle and rubbed the brunette's back. "I think it's sweet. Besides, you told me that you were happy she understood the answers you gave her last time you went home."

"Yeah, I was." Sam quirked a small smile and fingered the soft fabric of the shirt. "It's just odd to get something like this from your presumably very innocent baby sister."

"Innocence isn't all it's cracked up to be, babe."

Sam snorted. "True."

Anna leaned in and gave the brunette a chaste kiss on the lips. "I hate to kick you out, but I need to get to bed. Melissa's coming over in the morning, and I want to be bright-eyed and bushytailed when she gets here."

Sam grinned and stood. "Fair enough. Tell her I said hi."

"Will do." Anna saw Sam to the door and gave the brunette a hug as she let her out. "Goodnight."

"'Night, babe." Sam walked back to her own apartment, absently fingering the green material in her hand as she shut and locked the door behind her.

Figuring that she might as well get some odd jobs done while she waited for bedtime to roll around, Sam busied herself doing three days worth of dishes and cleaning up in various locations. The downside to being a reporter was that every available surface was covered in stacks of paper, which the brunette meticulously ordered and archived in the large filing cabinet she kept just for that purpose.

It was 10:45 PM when she finished, and Sam sighed as she sunk into the softness of her couch, a glass of sweet white wine in her hand. "Hell, I might as well see what's on TV." Sam turned on the large flat-screen and sipped her wine; feeling very satisfied that her finished work had insured her the rest of the week off.

Of course, `time off' was a relative term. Sam would still be working on research for her next story; she just didn't have to come into the office unless someone sent for her. That would probably happen sometime Friday, she expected. New York was, if nothing else, a busy city to work in.

Settling on a show about ancient Asia, Sam watched the scenes play across the screen, her journalistic mind absently picking up any useful info and storing it for future use in the back of her head. Maybe she could do a story on the traditions of the Chinese New Year when that time rolled around.

When the program ended, Sam turned off the television. The apartment was quiet, one of the benefits of living high above the ground where the sound of the every-busy streets couldn't be heard. But while Sam usually enjoyed the peace and quiet that was so rare in a city the size of New York, tonight it only served to remind her that she was always alone in her apartment. Large and plush though it was, she'd rather have something smaller and someone to share it with.

She stood, and strode to the full-length windows that made up most of the living room's western wall. One arm across her chest, she sipped her wine pensively, watching the silent display of red and white lights zipping by on the street below.

It wasn't that she had trouble finding a woman who wanted to spend time with her. A wry smirk pulled at the full lips. No, that wasn't it at all. Sam was a very attractive young woman, and she knew it. To further sweeten the pot, she also held a high position at one of the biggest newspapers in the United States, which meant her pay was more than enough to sustain a comfortable lifestyle. Her superiors at the Times weren't fools; they knew talent when they saw it, and they knew what true talent was worth.

No, finding a willing woman wasn't the problem. Sam had met, dated and bedded many a lovely lady in the years she'd been in the city. Many had liked her; some had cared about her. A few had even claimed to love her. But no one had touched her. No one had reached the inner recesses of her heart in a way that made her feel that she could build a lasting relationship with them. The only long-term relationship she had with any of the women she knew was with Anna, and that was, at the end of the day, only friendship.

"Someday." She exhaled and drained the last of the wine. "But for now..." She chuckled softly and ambled into the kitchen, setting the empty glass by the sink. "Maybe I should get a cat."

A knock came at the door, and Sam furrowed her brow in puzzlement. "What the hell?" She drummed her fingers against the counter as she quickly reviewed her mental calendar. No one was supposed to drop by tonight.

"If it's FedEx again, I'll ram the delivery so far up his ass they'll..." She trailed off with a growl as she stalked to her front door. Sam didn't appreciate having her quiet time interrupted, even if she did spend it feeling sorry for herself.

Still seething internally, she yanked the door open, fully prepared to tear the unfortunate soul on the other side a new orifice. The tirade, however, died on her lips, and she only managed to get out a weak gurgle of surprise.

Brooke raised her eyebrows bemusedly. "Hello to you, too. I didn't know New Yorkers greeted people this way; is it a new trend?"

"Buh..." Sam rubbed a hand across her face. "No, it's... I thought..." She shook her head and took a hold of herself. "What are you doing here? Last I heard, you were working in Olympia."

"Good to see you too, Sam." Brooke smirked. "I'm still with Weston & Morris back in Washington, if that's what you mean. The New York office simply asked for my assistance on a case, and I thought I'd stop by to see you, since it's been a while since the last time."

A while was an understatement, Sam thought idly. The last time she'd set eyes on her step sister was when they'd both been home on their first holiday from their respective colleges. Then, Brooke had been much like she remembered her from High School; all Malibu Barbie with her pastel colors and girlish giggles. The Brooke standing on her doorstep, however, looked every bit the professional lawyer that she was; Armani suit, tan leather briefcase and everything.

Sam quickly sneaked a look at her own worn jeans and slightly crinkled polo shirt, and felt undeniably rumpled next to Brooke's cool elegance. "God, where are my manners." She mumbled and stood back, opening the door fully. "Please, come in."

"Thank you." Brooke inclined her head and gracefully strode past the brunette into the apartment; looking around with interest. "Well, it looks like you've made a nice life for yourself here in the Big Apple." She turned and regarded her one-time housemate with a small smile. "But of course, I already knew that."

"You did?" Sam was honestly puzzled. While she knew that Mike and Jane would have passed on bits and pieces to the blonde, she doubted Brooke would have been interested in any details, such as the level of comfort she enjoyed.

Brooke gave her a quietly sad look. "Of course I did, Sam. Petty adolescent differences aside, I do care about you. And, with the risk of sounding condescending, I'm proud of what you've done with your life."

"Likewise." Sam felt touched at the honest admission, and it showed in her smile. "I have to admit I get a kick out of seeing one of the guys telling of your latest big win in the Times."

"Then you know how I feel when I seen your name by another front page story." Brooke chuckled and relaxed her posture. "I guess we didn't turn out so bad after all."

"No, I guess not. We're even managing to have a civil conversation." Sam held out her hand for Brooke's jacket and hung it on the dumbwaiter behind the door. "Amazing what time can do."

"Indeed." Brooke set down her briefcase and ran a hand through her hair. "Mind if I take off my shoes?" She waggled one high-heel clad foot at the brunette. "I never did like these damn things, and it's been a hellishly long day."

"Please do." Sam nodded and walked through the doorway into the living room. "Make yourself at home." She paused, one hand on the wall, and peered back at her unexpected, but welcome, visitor. "Would you like a glass of wine? I just opened a bottle of white Zinfandel, and I'd hate to let it go to waste."

"Yes, please." Brooke groaned and sat down on the couch, throwing a theatrical arm over her eyes. "I just spent five hours with a client who was a few sheets short of a case file. Alcohol is usually a requirement after that."

Sam bit the inside if her cheek to keep from laughing and cleared her throat. "I thought you'd lose the more intellectually challenged people when you moved up in ranks?"

Brooke lifted her arm and gave the brunette a wry look. "I'm afraid it's the other way around. All cases are basically two people pulling on opposite ends of the same object and yelling `Mine!', but the people filing the really silly suits are the ones who have the money to actually get it to go to court." She rolled her eyes and quirked a slight grin. "This, of course, means that the dumb suits end up in the higher offices."

"On your desk, then." Sam smiled and pulled two clean wine glasses from the cabinet, setting them on the low table in front of the couch.

"My desk, and the desks of the people I work with." Brooke confirmed with a sigh. "Sometimes I wonder just where the world is heading with the amount of idiotic people in positions of power."

"Straight to hell, probably." Sam brought the wine over and filled both their glasses before sitting down next to her guest. "So let's have our fun while we can." She raised her glass and smirked. "To life's quirks, and all the fun we'll have with them?"

Brooke laughed and raised her glass as well. "I'll drink to that."

The two of them sat quietly for a while, sipping their wine and glancing at each other from time to time.

"So..." Brooke fished for a conversation starter. "Tell me about the life of Samantha McPherson; big shot reporter. I used to know her, but I think I've missed a few chapters."

Sam chuckled and watched the wine swirl in her glass. "Not much to tell. She graduated summa cum laude, took a job at the Times and worked her way to where she is now. She spends too much time working, not enough time going out and has no love life to speak of."

Brooke bit her lower lip and regarded the brunette soberly. "Sounds like a lonely existence."

Sam shrugged and sipped the wine calmly. "I guess it is. I never really thought about it."

Brooke nodded. "No girls banging down your door?" She grinned as Sam's cheeks colored at her question.

"Hm." Sam coughed lightly and sent Brooke a sideways glance. "Didn't think you knew about that."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Ever the lawyer, aren't you?" Sam smiled to take the sting out of her words. "No, that's not it. Girls are willing to spend time with me, but I've yet to meet anyone who can hold my interest."

"Mm." The blonde nodded sagely. "I know the feeling."

Sam gave her guest a look. "Brooke, come on. That's the biggest pile of horse droppings west of the White House. You're gorgeous; you could have any guy you set your sights on."

Brooke sipped her wine and gave Sam a sly look over the edge of her in glass before lowering it. "Thanks for the compliment. I'm not interested in guys, though."

Sam, too, had been taking a drink of wine, which unfortunately went down the wrong way at the casual admission.

"Christ!" Brooke set her glass on the table and leaned over, rubbing the coughing woman's back until the spasms subsided. "Are you okay?"

Sam nodded and wiped the moisture from her eyes as she took a few deep breaths. "I'm fine. You just... Surprised me."

Brooke quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "You don't say?"

Sam just looked at her for a moment, then laughed softly. "Well, I'm a reporter. It's my job to state the painfully obvious."

"And a wonderful job you did, too." Brooke replied, deadpan, as she leaned back in the couch, crossing her legs at the knees and scowling at the restraint her sedate grey skirt caused. "I knew I should've changed before I came over here."

Sam took the opening offered, and ran her gaze up the length of Brooke's, admittedly, very shapely legs. "You don't have anything else with you?"

Brooke chuckled and shook her head. "No, not here. Pulling pantyhose out of your briefcase doesn't really give a good impression with the clients, you know."

Sam smiled and maneuvered herself to sit with her back against the armrest of the couch. "No, I suppose not. Probably similar to me showing up to a meeting in this." She indicated her outfit with a self-depreciating grin.

"The brass should be so lucky." Brooke smirked. "Rumpled is a good look on you."

Sam inclined her head and accepted the compliment with a smile. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Silence fell again, only broken by the distant roar of an airplane.

"Brooke?" Sam spoke up after a few minutes. "Why didn't we get along way back when? Because frankly, I think we're doing a more than admirable job of it now, despite not having seen each other for more than half a decade."

"Maybe we're getting along because we haven't seen each other for that long." Brooke joked. "But I see your point. We were never really good at that."

"Understatement of the year."

"Quiet, you." Brooke smacked Sam's knee lightly. "I'm talking here."

Sam held up a hand amiably. "The defense rests."

"Very original."

"I thought so."

"Back to the point." Brooke scowled playfully at Sam before growing serious again. "I never really hated you, Sam. Hell, I didn't even dislike you. I thought you were incredibly stubborn, of course, but you also had a very different view on the world. You challenged everything I believed in, and made me see that everything wasn't as black and white as I thought it was. I found that very refreshing." She smiled slightly. "I still do."

Sam nodded and sipped her wine, watching Brooke pensively over the rim of the glass. "I never really hated you either." She admitted. "I actually liked you, but something about you just frustrated me to no end. Even when we tried to get along..." She trailed off and laughed softly. "Well, we both remember how that turned out."

"With crystal clarity." Brooke laughed with her. "That was a disaster of epic proportions, wasn't it?"

"That's putting it mildly." Sam hiked one eyebrow and idly swirled the wine around in her glass. "But... Oh, to hell with it. I guess I might as well tell you this now." She sighed and sat up straighter, resting her lower arms on her legs. "The main reason I was a bitch to you was that I... Well, I liked you a little too much, if you get my meaning."

Brooke had a small, incredulous smile on her face. "You had a crush on me?"

Sam colored lightly and nodded. "Big time."

"I might as well fess up too, then." Brooke chuckled and leaned her elbow against the back of the couch, resting her forehead in her hand as she idly picked at a button on her shirt. "I was majorly crushing on you, too. I thought I'd die of fright when my dad told me that you and Jane were moving in."

"Like I wasn't terrified at the thought?" Sam grinned crookedly and set her glass down on the table. "It was bad enough I had to see you all the time at school, but to be around you almost 24 hours a day?"

"Oh, please." Brooke waved a hand dismissively. "I was the one who had to suffer through your oral fixation. Watching you run your tongue over your teeth and lips all the time drove me crazy."

"You mean like this?" Sam demonstrated.

"Exactly like that." Brooke grinned, and then softened her tone and expression. "I always thought you were beautiful, Sam. I still do. I'm sorry for all the times I told you differently."

"It...hurt." Sam acknowledged quietly, focusing her gaze on the jeans. "But I didn't do any better by you. I guess we were pretty shitty to each other." She was surprised to feel the sting of tears at the back of her eyes; the adult still feeling the pain of rejection inflicted on the teenager she had been.

"Sam." Brooke scooted closer and placed two fingers under the brunette's chin, bringing her face up and looking into her eyes sincerely. "You are beautiful. Please don't ever doubt that."

Sam could barely breathe. Brooke's face was so close she could feel the other woman's breath caress her face, and her eyes were so green and so painfully genuine. She licked her lips nervously as feelings that, she privately admitted, had never really vanished, now came back with a vengeance.

"Brooke..." Her voice had dropped to a nervous whisper. "Can... Can I kiss you?"

Brooke swallowed. While she'd been perfectly honest in admitting that she had a crush on her host back in High School, she'd neglected to mention that her infatuation had stayed with her over the years. There had been others, but they'd never managed to measure up to the image she held of Sam.

Even without a verbal reply, Sam could see the emotion in Brooke's gaze. Slowly, she raised one hand to gently cup the blonde's cheek; rubbing her thumb over the sculpted cheekbone and feeling the warm breath wash over her arm.

Smiling softly, Brooke trailed her hand from the underside of Sam's chin along her jaw, burying her fingers in the thick, soft hair at the nape of the other woman's neck. She leaned in close enough to taste Sam's breath, feeling the air between them crackle with tension and loving every second of it. There were more enjoyable things to be doing, however.

She touched her lips to Sam's; only a tease of skin on skin, but still enough to make the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. She nipped at her lips; those full, devastatingly sensual lips that she'd dreamed of kissing for so long. They were so soft. She could be kissing rose petals, and they'd feel like sandpaper after tasting Sam's lips.

Brooke felt more than heard Sam's light gasp as she flicked her tongue over the brunette's lips, and quickly stored that reaction away for future reference as her mind focused solely on the warm tongue that was now sliding against her own. It tasted of white Zinfandel, cherries and something else that was uniquely Sam, and Brooke wanted more.

Sam groaned as Brooke's tongue invaded her mouth, causing a white- hot heat to course through her veins. She moved her hands to the blonde's shoulders, sliding them under the collar of her shirt and pressing her fingertips against the warm skin she encountered. She slid down in the couch, stretching out below Brooke and welcoming the warm weight of another body on her own. The scent, feel and taste of the blonde assaulted her senses, and the sound of Brooke's slightly ragged breathing was music to her ears.

Brooke kept her lips locked to Sam's as she raised herself up on one elbow and sneaked one hand under the edge of the brunette's polo. The feeling of the smooth, warm skin under her palm was exquisite, and she reluctantly pulled back from the kiss, smiling at the small mewl of protest.

Sam let her hands trail down Brooke's arms as the blonde sat up and straddled her hips. She felt her own breathing grow shallow when soft hands pushed up the edge of her polo and slid over her stomach. Her previously loose and comfortable clothes were suddenly very constricting, and she was only happy to raise her arms and shoulders to allow Brooke to pull the clinging material off of her body.

She lay back down against the couch and just looked at Brooke. The blonde was backlit by a nearby lamp, and her hair glowed like spun gold in the soft light. "Beautiful." She breathed, tugging Brooke's shirt free of the gray skirt and pushing her hands up to caress the blonde's back.

Brooke sighed contentedly at the feel of the warm hands sliding over her skin, and greedily drank in the sight of the woman lying below her. Sam was every bit a gorgeous as she had expected; all pale, unblemished skin, smooth curves and gentle hands that suddenly grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her down into a heated kiss.

Impatient, maybe, but still gorgeous.

Sam growled deep in her throat as their tongues clashed and dueled in a battle neither wanted to win. She worked at the buttons on Brooke's shirt, wanting to feel the blonde's skin on her own sooner rather than later. But oh, the dastardly little things were so goddamn stubborn.

Brooke chuckled throatily at Sam's increased agitation and sat up to help with the removal of the stubborn piece of clothing. That soon turned out to be unnecessary, as Sam apparently had enough and, with another growl and a light nip at the side of Brooke's neck, resolutely ripped the shirt open.

Definitely impatient.

"Sam!" Brooke gasped as the buttons clattered onto the floor. She idly wondered if she should be worried that the act was turning her on, but soon found far more interesting things to focus on as Sam placed slow, heated kisses along her collarbone.

The brunette leaned back and surveyed the woman straddling her with a devilish smirk. "No bra?" She murmured, running one hand up the centre of Brooke's naked torso and smiling at the shiver it caused. "Naughty, naughty."

"You're one to talk." Brooke plucked at the lacy black bra that just barely covered Sam's chest. She cupped one of Sam's breasts in her hand and flicked her thumb over the nipple, watching in fascination as the brown eyes darkened with desire.

"God..." Sam hissed and arched her body into the touch. "Don't stop."

"I wasn't planning on it." Brooke smirked and bent her head, teasing the sensitive skin at the base of Sam's neck with her tongue and using her free hand to deftly unhook the bra; letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor.

Sam let out a low moan as Brooke's hands splayed warmly across her chest, the slightly rough skin of the blonde's palm rubbing over her sensitive nipples. "Evil, evil woman." She ground out, and felt the answering chuckle vibrate against her skin as Brooke bit the side of her neck lightly.

"Oh, no." Brooke purred as she gently pushed Sam back in a reclining position. "I'm not evil. I'm very, very good." She trailed her lips over the soft skin of Sam's chest, feeling the surface rise and fall erratically beneath her.

They were both wearing far too many clothes, Sam decided as she searched for the clasp holding Brooke's skirt closed. Finding it, she absently thanked whatever deity was listening for the thing's cooperation. She didn't want to have to ruin all of Brooke's clothes, although the idea did hold considerable merit.

She tapped Brooke's hip, and the blonde agreeably shifted to allow Sam to slide the skirt down. The coarse material of Sam's jeans slid against her pantyhose as Brooke lay down between the brunette's legs, and the combined sensations of the two fabrics against her sensitized skin made the blonde shudder. She raised her gaze to Sam's eyes, and sucked in a breath at the smoldering look that met her.

"I think we need to stand up."

Sam couldn't help it. Brooke had said it in such a serious tone that she just had to laugh. She wrapped her arms around the blonde and muffled her laugh against the side of Brooke's neck, her shoulders shaking with uncontrolled mirth.

Brooke played her fingers tips along Sam's sides, grinning as the brunette yelped in surprise. "Aha, I see I still have things to learn about you, Miss McPherson." She chuckled as Sam squirmed, trying to evade the tickling digits, then yelped as a sudden twist rolled them over, and her back met nothing but air. "Oh, sh..."

"Well..." Sam muttered into a mixture of blonde hair and carpeting. "That's one way of getting off the couch."

Brooke snickered and nipped lightly at the bare shoulder that was so tantalizingly close.

Sam suckled lightly on a nearby earlobe and smiled at the soft mewl that rewarded her efforts, then reluctantly rolled off of Brooke and offered her a hand up. "Bedroom?"

"Bedroom." Brooke confirmed with a smile and stepped out of the skirt that had pooled around her feet. She followed Sam as the brunette led the way, and idly decided that Sam looked really, really good topless, even from behind.

"Now..." Sam turned around and regarded Brooke playfully as they entered the bedroom. "Where were we?"

"I believe," Brooke said as she stepped up close to Sam and placed the brunette's hands on her hips, "that you were right around here, somewhere."

"Imagine that." Sam drawled, rubbing her thumbs over Brooke's lower abdomen and slowly pushing down the pantyhose. Hooking her fingers in the edges of the fragile fabric, she dropped to her knees and carefully pulled the sheer material down the long legs.

Brooke bit her lip as the soft fabric slid over her skin and rested her hands on Sam's shoulders for balance as the brunette pulled the hose off of one foot, then the other. Her eyes were locked with Sam's, and she shivered at the hooded, mischievous gaze that seemed to sparkle in the dim lighting as the brunette kissed her way up Brooke's legs and stomach.

"Down." Sam ordered softly and poked her in the stomach, and Brooke obligingly fell back on the bed behind her. She rose up on her elbows and watched with increasing anticipation as Sam crawled up the length of her body and hovered over her for a brief second before lying down on top of her, one firm thigh pressed against the heat between her legs. That, combined with the moist heat of the tongue now laving her nipple, wrenched a soft cry from the back of her throat, and Brooke wrapped her hands in the soft brown tresses; arching into the erotic caress.

"God..." She gasped as Sam rolled her hips and the jean-clad thigh rubbed against a very sensitive spot. "Please, Sammy." She groaned and tugged at the waistband of the pants. "Off."

Off sounded like a very good idea to Sam, who got to her feet and plucked at the jeans with a teasing smirk. "You mean these?"

Brooke nodded mutely, smacking her suddenly dry lips together as Sam undid the buttons and revealed panties that matched the lacy bra. "Yeah." She croaked. "Please."

The brown eyes glittered dangerously as Sam bent at the waist and pushed the jeans down in a move that would have made any PlayBoy centerfold green with envy. Brooke couldn't do anything but whimper as Sam straightened again and casually stepped out of the jeans, climbing onto the bed with her teeth chewing softly on her bottom lip.

"So beautiful." Brooke breathed, reaching up to trail her knuckles over Sam's cheek.

Sam smiled softly at the words, and ducked her head for another taste of Brooke's soft lips. She felt the blonde wrap her arms around her neck and sighed happily into the kiss, twining her legs with Brooke's and placing her hands on the small of the other woman's back, pulling the blonde snug against her own body.

Sam shivered, though she suspected it was more from the delicious contact than anything else. She spread her fingers and moved her hands to Brooke's rear, squeezing the firm flesh gently. Brooke groaned in response and buried her hands in Sam's hair, gently guiding the dark head back to her chest.

Softly nuzzling the supple flesh with her lips, Sam ran her hands over every bit of exposed Brooke she could reach; reveling in the feel of smooth skin she wanted nothing more than to stroke and kiss and touch and... Well, she didn't know what else, but she was certain she'd think of it when the time came.

Brooke, in the meantime, was fuzzily wondering if she'd somehow died and gone to Heaven, because it certainly felt that way. Kissing and caressing Sam, not to mention being kissed and caressed by Sam, along with having the brunette's next-to-naked body pressed up against her own was... "God, Sammy..." Brooke mewled as Sam's teeth raked gently across her nipple and promptly lost her train of thought.

Sam hooked her thumbs in the waist of Brooke panties as pulled them down, laughing softly against the slick skin as the felt the blonde kick them off impatiently. "Patience, Princess." She murmured, nipping at the underside of a smoothly rounded breast.

"Fuck patience." Brooke growled as she wrapped her legs around Sam's hips and felt the body atop her own shake with silent laughter. "I've been patient for ten goddamn years. Enough is enough."

"Mm." Sam raised herself up on one arm and ran the fingers of her other hand over Brooke's hip, frowning in mock thought. "You have a point."

Brooke narrowed her eyes at the brunette and grabbed Sam's wrist, efficiently putting a stop to the teasing as she placed the reporter's hand where she needed it the most. "Sam, please..."

Sam snapped for breath as the copious wetness coated her fingers. She moved her fingers slightly between the silken folds, and watched in something akin to awe as Brooke's eyes darkened and her lips parted in a sigh as sweet as any sound Sam had ever heard.

Enraptured, Sam varied her touch, learning how Brooke responded to different ways of touching. She watched how Brooke's back arched when she pressed her palm down in a certain way, how the green eyes rolled back and her fists clenched in the sheets when Sam pressed just there, and she listened to the small mewls that flowed over her like warm honey when she moved the pad of her thumb in small circles right there.

But most importantly, Sam memorized how Brooke looked when she was completely lost in her own pleasure. How the faint light played over slick skin, how her body tensed and back arched, how her fingertips dug into Sam's back while even, white teeth left marks on her shoulder, how Brooke breathed her name softly as she came down, and how she felt her own heart break with tenderness as she wrapped herself around the shivering woman and pulled the comforter over the both of them.

And a little while later, amidst giddy giggles and soft moans, Sam learned just how very, very good Brooke truly was.

The next morning, one brown eye glared at the impudent ray of sunlight that dared lay claim to a narrow stripe of golden skin. Sam had half a mind to get up and fix the blind that wasn't doing itsjob, but decided against it. Brooke's shoulder was far too comfortable a pillow, and she soon dozed off again.

Later, Sam lay with her chin resting in her palm and watched Brooke sleep. Fear and giddiness warred within her mind as she surveyed the sleeping blonde's countenance with a curious look. Brooke had touched something inside her last night, and not just in the obvious way.

"How do you like that?" Sam whispered and carefully brushed a stray lock of blonde hair out of Brooke's face. "I should've known it was, you, shouldn't I, Princess?" She questioned the sleeping girl with a smile. "After all, you're the only one I never could stop thinking of. Trust me to never figure it out until it hit me right between the eyes."

"Who hit you right between the eyes?" Brooke muttered sleepily and snuggled closer to the brunette. "I'll kick their ass."

Sam chuckled. "No one did, Brooke. I was just talking to myself."

"Mmkay." Brooke yawned and cracked one eye open, peering at Sam. "You are aware that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, right?"

"Well then," Sam bent her neck and kissed the blonde softly, "hoorah for insanity."

"Booyah." Brooke grinned as they broke apart. "What time is it?"

Sam glanced at the bedside clock. "Almost noon." She smiled sheepishly. "I hope you didn't have to meet with any clients today."

"Nope." Brooke shook her head happily. "After meeting with Mr Bonehead Executive Whatever yesterday, I'd had enough and asked my secretary to clear my schedule for today. I don't pay that woman nearly enough for putting up with my moods."

Sam decided it was probably wiser to not reply to that; at least not until Brooke had had her coffee. "So, we have an entire day ahead of us. What do you want to do?"

Brooke leered at her.

"Ah." Sam chuckled and gladly surrendered as Brooke's hands began a slow exploration of her body. "Princess?"

"Mmhm?" Brooke was busy nibbling on Sam's ear, and the brunette almost forgot her question.

"Can I come visit you in Olympia sometime?"

The nibbling stopped abruptly, and Brooke raised her head to look at Sam confusedly. "Well... No."

Sam felt her heart drop ten stories in a split second, and it felt like a cold hand squeezed her lungs. "Wh... B..."

The lawyer noticed the devastated expression on the brunette's face and immediately kicked herself. "No, no, no, baby. I didn't mean it that way. I want to see you more than anything." She hastened toreassure Sam, pulling the confused woman close and rocking her gently. "Please don't doubt that."

"Then what did you mean?" Sam looked at the blonde with a hopelessly baffled expression, and Brooke smiled softly.

"I meant that you can't come visit me in Olympia because I'll be moving soon." She kissed the tip of Sam's nose lightly and pushed a tendril of dark hair out of her face. "The New York office offeredme a position. Considering last night, I think I should take it, don't you?"

Soft lips were the only answer, but Brooke had no complaints about that.

- END