Title: Dear Brooke

Author: Majandra

Email: flavorlesschocolate@hotmail.com

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Brooke and Sam, duh! That's, like, all I can write at the moment, and I'm not even doing that well!

Disclaimer: Not mine, blah blah woof woof.


"Dear Brooke.

While I know you will probably never read this letter, I am writing it to get some things off my chest. Here goes nothing.

Number one. You are without a doubt the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out. Your eyes, your hair, your perfect face and body, your scent. You smell so good... I could go on for days. But I must move on to

Number two. You don't know this, Brooke, but I'm gay. As in I like girls. Guys, while I know I'm not as experienced as you, do nothing for me and I know in my heart the truth. I am gay. Which brings me to

Number three. Having said that I like girls, I feel like I should make it clear what girls I like. Well, I like tall slim beautiful blonde cheerleaders. Ring any bells? I love you, Brooke, and even though I'll never give you this letter, I feel calmer knowing I've got it all out.

Love from Sam."

 

Sam re-read the letter then sighed and tucked it inside her journal. Brooke would never see that letter, she vowed. Much as she loved the blonde, they were just getting to be really good friends, and she didn't want to lose that.

She went down to dinner with a slightly less heavy heart. At least at dinner she got to see Brooke.

***~~~***

Brooke was worried. Why? Because she'd been in her room a couple of minutes back, and she'd heard Sam writing hurriedly. "Hurriedly" meant only one thing in Brooke's mind: exposé. The only thing she could think of to do was excuse herself during dinner and try to find out what Sam had written, and decide whether or not to give Nicole and Mary Cherry a heads up.

She climbed the stairs carefully, aware of three pairs of eyes on her back. She went into her bedroom, and straight away sprinted through the bathroom to Sam's room.

On the desk lay only one object: Sam's journal. Brooke heaved a sigh of relief. It's not about me for once, she thought. Then she saw the paper sticking out of the top of the journal. The paper headed "Dear Brooke."

"Dear Brooke," she read silently.

Sam looked up to see the Princess come back down the stairs with a peculiar look on her face that Sam couldn't place. Shrugging it off, she continued her meal, grateful for the view.

After eating, Brooke volunteered to do the washing up. Sam jumped to offer to help. As soon as the table was cleared and the parentals had gone upstairs, Brooke spoke.

"Sam? What do I smell like?" she asked, casually.

"Vanilla, unless you're going out tonight in which case it's Calvin Klein," Sam answered without thinking. Then her head snapped up and she stared, wide eyed, at Brooke. "I, uh..."

Brooke didn't give her a chance to explain herself. Three swift steps and she was face to face, body to body with the brunette. Looking deep into Sam's eyes, Brooke whispered, "Me too." She knew Sam would understand. Brooke leaned in and kissed Sam.

The first touch of their lips was electric, sending shock waves through their bodies. Sam moaned and held Brooke closer while Brooke pushed her tongue into Sam's mouth. They explored each other's mouths hungrily, the passion rising until they had no choice but to break for air.

"Found your letter," Brooke panted.

"I figured," Sam breathed back.

"I know how you feel, Sam."

"So kiss me again."

-fin-


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