DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine, nor is the programme. They belong to the folk who made them. I do not claim them in any shape or form.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fiction, inspired by discovering fiction. It's been a long time since I've seen the show, so can't remember the dates of when it took place. Also, it takes place from after the end of the series. The title sucks, but I couldn't think of another. I would love to know what you all think.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By Soricha



Dropping the keys on the counter, the young woman went directly to the fridge. She opened the door, and took a moment to consider what could be edible before taking out a carton of milk. She drank from the carton before leaving it on the counter. She sighed as she went into the living area, still immersed in darkness. She looked out onto the city, New York was looking as alive as it did every second of the day. Life never stopped to breathe in the city. Sam studied the vehicles, the people and could imagine them s toy figures; ones that could be picked up and played with. She sat on the couch and leant over to turn on the lamp, and studied the items laying on the coffee table. But despite the bills, the crumpled money notes and dated newspapers, only one thing gained her interest. A birthday card, a card designed for a child, which was exactly who it was for. Sam sighed as she thought of her younger sister. Mac was approaching her seventh birthday and would probably have no idea who Sam was. Yet, the brunette never forgot a birthday or a Christmas. She made sure Mac would know that she still cared. She hoped that Mike or Brooke gave them to her. Yet, she understood if they didn't.

She let her thoughts drift to the tall, blonde. The beautiful being that haunted her thoughts more often than not. Sam would have her weaker moments, when she wished she could just find Brooke and tell her that she was sorry for leaving. Sam knew her feelings for Brooke ran deeper than that of a friendship, yet, she always questioned them. She would only sum it up to fantasies, as Brooke was the first woman who made her consider her sexuality. She believed that because of Brooke's role in that, then that would be why she had thoughts about her. She let herself remember that moment, when all she could think was `Uh-oh'


"What you want Spam… you know the trash canisters are outside?"

Sam just glared at the shot-haired blonde before stepping past her, and walking towards the sink. She could hear the dramatic sigh Nicole gave but continued to ignore her.

"Spam, what are you wearing? Even the homeless wouldn't wear it!" Nicole spoke with a sneer. Sam glances down at her attire, black vest top, and black baggy combats. She shrugged, seeing nothing wrong with it. She was determined not to rise up to Nicole.

"You know it's a crime to be using that water… I thought you and your band of rejects were all about the environment, and here you are wasting water… that will never clean that ugliness."

Sam flinched at this, as like most teenage girls, she was self- conscious about her appearance. She turned to the gloating girl and looked her up and down.

"You would obviously know that… hasn't worked on you at all."

As she saw Nicole sneer falter for an iota of a second Sam smirked. Nicole walked towards her menacingly.

"Look here, bitch! You are worthless, and you know it… just to give yourself any purpose, you speak… and no one listens. No one cares about you… why you haven't figured that out, and thrown yourself under a truck is beyond me!"


Both girls jumped at the third party's exclamation. They turned to see Brooke in her cheerleader outfit standing at the door obviously appalled by her best friend's cruelty. Nic glared back at Sam before approaching the head cheer-leader.

"Hey, Brooke… Spam and I were just having a girlie chat, you know about boys, fashion and looks… as in she has none." With that the smaller blonde grinned with satisfaction at Sam, and waltzed out of the Novak.

Brooke shook her head at her best friend and looked up at Sam.

"And you wonder why I call her Satan?" Sam shrugged and turned to dry her hands.

Brooke approached the sink and washed her hands. She turned the tap to let the water get colder before placing both hands under it and then bringing them to her face. As the water made tiny droplets on her flawless skin, Brooke ran her hands through her hair, not a strand of which was out of place. She made faces at her own reflection in the mirror before turning to rip off a paper towel. She rubbed the sheet against her face. She then took her bag out and pulled out her make-up. She applied lip gloss on her sensual, kissable lips before applying powder to her smooth skin. She studied her reflection before smiling. She was the picture of perfection. She turned and noticed Sam not having moved from her spot. The dark brown eyes studied her every movement.

"Stare much?"

Sam shook herself out of her reverie before looking up at Brooke, her cheeks reddening. She watched Brooke leave, before groaning. That was exactly what she was doing, staring. She remembered every motion the gorgeous blonde had made. `Gorgeous? Beautiful? Flawless? Perfect? When do I ever think these things about people? When do I ever obsess their every movement?' She glanced back to the position where Brooke had just been, and shook her head. She realised in that instance why she thought those words.

"Uh no! Shit!"

*End of Flashback*

The phone ringing pierced through the silence of the apartment, and Sam sighed as she picked up the handset.

"Hello… hey babes…" Sam smiled when she heard the voice. "Yeah, just got in… tonight? Can we do something quiet instead… I'm tired… ok, don't use that voice… you know I hate that voice. I'll be there in a hour. See you then."

Replacing the handset, the brunette groaned. She was such a pushover where her girlfriend was concerned. She was tired after a long day in the office. She loved her job and felt very lucky in having it, but it wore her out to no end. She knew she an up-and-coming journalist and she knew she was good at what she was doing, and she also, knew without it, her life would be empty. Her work filled the spaces vacated by her parents, and loved ones.

She pulled herself from the couch, stretching her tired muscles and walked towards the bedroom. She studied the contents of her wardrobe, opting for a royal blue ankle length dress. She stripped as she wandered through the bedroom into the bathroom. Listening to the shower running, and waiting for the water to get warmer, she sat on the toilet seat. She glanced at the cupboard before opening it. Behind the cleaning products was that sacred brown envelope. The one she could never leave herself throw away. She pulled out the contents and studied the photos. She ran her finger over her mother's smiling face and swallowed hard. She looked at the next one of Brooke holding baby Mac. She smiled at the photo, seeing the horror in Brooke's face as she was not expecting either the camera to flash or the baby to be dumped into her arms seconds before. Sam studied the baby and her smile saddened when she realised that she had no idea what her baby sister looked like. The only person left who was of her blood. Sam thought of her grandmother who had put her up when she fled California. The elderly woman never questioned Sam's reasons fro turning up on her doorsteps nor pressured her to leave. She had watched Sam graduate from High School and from college with pride, before passing on herself. Sam had grown fond of her as she grew to know her father's mother and was consequently, heart-broken when another member of her family died.

Sam sighed as she replaced those precious photos in their hiding place and stepped into the shower.

The music was blasting through the speakers as Sam stood uncomfortably beside the bar. She watched the crowd of celebrities and wannabes mingle, chat and drink. This was not her scene, but it was her girl-friend' s. Jamie was the reporter for entertainment, though Sam firmly believed she was a gossip columnist… just a step up from paparazzi. She would never say this out loud of course. She watched her girl-friend exude confidence as she spoke to next big thing. There was no question about it, Jamie was stunning. She had a stylish auburn bob, emerald eyes, and a fantastic figure. She would turn heads everywhere she went. Sam smiled as she watched her partner laugh, before meeting her eyes. Jamie smiled seductively before approaching the brunette.

"Hey baby, you look bored?"

Sam just raised an eye-brow at her.

"You are bored! Sam, why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have listened?"

Jamie though for a moment before shaking her head. "No… I'm sorry. I promise to make it up to you tonight."

Sam smiled before whispering, "You better."

She watched her girlfriend wander back into the mist of people and continued watching people.

If she had not placed her glass on the table, she would have dropped it when her eyes met hazel eyes. She found it getting hotter and more difficult to breathe as she studied the figure she hadn't seen in six and a half years. The tall blonde hadn't changed much. Her hair slightly longer, her smile still dazzling and her eyes still warm. She was still gorgeous, even more so. Sam watched as the blonde continued to talk to the man next to her. Sam frowned at him. `Who is he?' She shook her head and scolded herself, `What were you expecting… Harrison? She's 24 now. She has a new life… but why the hell is she here?'

Sam could feel the panic begin to constrict her throat and wanted to escape. She saw the exit and ran towards it, not giving it another thought.

As she leant against the wall, she sighed with relief and let the cool air hit her skin. She watched the city lights bounce against the sky, and could still hear the music through the wall. She waited until her breathing had calmed and her heart had resumed a normal pace before turning to get a cab.

As she approached the yellow car, she could feel her ghost before she heard her.


Sam slowly turned around and faced the hazel eyes that had haunted her for the last six and a half years. She smiled shyly at the blonde's stunned amazement.

"Hi, Brooke"



Sam couldn't stop fidgeting with the beer mat in front of her. This was the fifth one she had destroyed since sitting down. The silence was deafening. All the brunette could hear was the sound of her own heart-beat and her thoughts screaming at her to leave. She was oblivious to the other customers, in fact she didn't even notice that anyone else was there. All she was aware of was the equally nervous blond seated next to her. Sam studied the tall blonde, and saw those once friendly eyes filled with pain, anger and numbness. Brooke's hands were wrapped around her wine glass, as if it was a mug of hot chocolate on a snowy day. Sam let her eyes sweep over the blonde's body, she was still slim and looked fantastic in the black dress suit she was wearing. Sam noticed one thing about Brooke that made her feel at a loss. A diamond ring on her left ring finger. `She's engaged.' The thought broke through Sam's mind and she allowed her to breath out. Brooke looked up at the sigh.

Brooke studied Sam with the same intensity she herself was studied under. Sam had grown to be stunning, her hair longer and wilder, though carefully put up for the night, her make-up immaculate and her dress fitted against her slim and toned figure like a second skin. Yet, Sam's eyes were the same, those dark eyes seemed to be almost dead, exactly how Brooke remembered them to be.

Neither woman had spoken from the moment they had been reunited. Brooke had asked Sam to go for a drink, and Sam could only nod. Now here they were in a painful silence, neither one of them daring to speak first.

Brooke thought about their past and remembered their numerous fights, those arguments that went down as part of Kennedy High history, and she let herself smile. Sam caught the smile and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Brooke shook her head, "I was only just thinking how ridiculous this is." She gestured between the two of them. "I mean in school we were never short of a word and now, well…" Brooke allowed her sentence drift back into the silence. She sipped her wine and watched as Sam started working on demolishing beer mat number seven. She was afraid to speak, scared to make angry or worse, make herself angry. She couldn't help but smile at the irony or the situation. She had so much that she wanted to say to Sam, things that has happened since the brunette vanished, her feelings and her worries, but yet, she couldn't even open her mouth. She wanted to scream and shout, but also, to cry and to laugh. A part of her wished she wasn't sitting in this bar, but another part of her couldn't imagine being anywhere else. In her twenty-four years, she has never felt as conflicted as she did in that silence.

Sam watched Brooke's face as an internal battle played behind those beautiful hazel eyes. Sam sighed and wished she could speak, but she didn't know where to begin. Should she apologize, or should she pretend that the last six and half years never happened? She wanted to stand up and run away, but she knew that she couldn't. She had questions.

A waitress arrived at the table, and watched the two women. She couldn't help but feel the tension and suddenly wished she worked somewhere else.

"Can I get you anything else?"

Brooke jumped at the high voice that pierced through her thoughts. She looked up at the young waitress and smiled. "Yeah, I'll have another glass of Merlot… Sam?"

The brunette just pointed to her whiskey glass and nodded. Brooke couldn't help but raise her eyes to the skies. She felt some comfort that Sam was feeling worse than she was.

The waitress left with a promise that the drinks will be there quickly. Brooke watched her leave and observed her as she yelled the order to the barman.

"How's Mac?"

Brooke had been lost in her observation of two friends at the bar, obviously drunk, hugging each other continuously. The two men suits were dishevelled and she assumed a celebration of some kind had taken place. She was so caught up in their world that she didn't hear Sam.

Sam smiled as she saw that Brooke wasn't listening. She leant forwards and shouted.

"How's Mac?"

Brooke's hand jumped to her heart as she turned to see Sam smiling.

"Jesus! Sam!" Yet, Brooke couldn't help but smile back.

"She's great… it's her birthday in a couple of days."

"I know… I got her a card." Sam suddenly felt awkward.

Brooke sensed this and placed her hand on Sam's. "She loves getting your cards. She says that you always write the best messages, not like me and Dad. Apparently, we're not cool." Brooke let her familiar playful tone cone into her voice.

Sam smiled, "She's right."

"Hey!" Brooke hit Sam gently on the shoulder.

Sam laughed slightly, and then fell back into that uncomfortable silence again. `Why isn't she angry with me? Why isn't she giving me the third degree? Why is she being so damn good?' Sam couldn't get these thoughts out of her mind.

Brooke bent down to get her bag. She looked up at Sam, "Do you want to see a photo of her?"

Sam's eyes lit up. "I'd love to."

Sam grinned as Brooke practically pulled out a photo album. Brooke smiled shyly and her cheeks blushed slightly. "You never know when you need to show photos."

"I've never known you to be practical," Sam smiled as she took the album. Sam opened the album, and let her eyes fall on the first photo. Mac looked exactly as she remembered her in that photo. A small baby smiling in her mother's arms. Sam swallowed the tears she felt rising in her throat. She had an exact replica of this photo, and had looked at it many times, but she felt this photo was different because it was Brooke's copy. She turned the next page, and saw Mac celebrating her first birthday with Brooke holding her in front of the cake. Brooke's smile looked sad, and Sam unconsciously ran a thumb over the blonde's face in the shot. She looked through the photos as she watched Mac become unrecognisable. She laughed as she felt the tears rising. She suddenly felt bitter as she came to a photo of a happy six year old. This was her baby sister, and until that moment she had no idea what she looked like. The little girl was perched on her bicycle, a grin that was so like Brooke's spread across her face, and wild dark hair like her own. Yet, she had her mother's eyes. She let the tears fall as she felt regret and loss all over again.

Brooke watched the play of emotions dance across Sam's beautiful face and felt her heart breaking. She wanted to comfort her, but wouldn't. She also wanted to blame Sam. `She wasn't there. If she was there, she wouldn't be like this.'

Sam glanced up at Brooke's eyes and found them to be unreadable. She had learned one new thing about Brooke. The blonde had become talented at hiding her emotions.

"What do you tell her about me?"

`That you got scared and ran away!' This was what Brooke wanted to say, but she knew that this would damage Sam even more. Yet, this was what the blonde firmly believed to be the truth. She smiled gently as she answered, "We tell her that we don't know where you are, so why doesn't she tell us?"

Sam looked mildly confused, and Brooke realised an explanation was necessary.

"She makes up stories about your adventures. She's even started writing them down. Your latest adventure was that you were trapped in the Amazon Jungle, trying to escape the several corrupt armies while rescuing the poor children that were living in the world under the ground." Brooke took back the album and slid out that last photo. She studied it fondly. "She has one hell of an imagination… she's like you in that way."

Sam laughed at that thought.

"Here, keep it." Brooke handed the photo to the brunette. Sam smiled her first real smile in a long time, and nodded her appreciation.

The silence took over again. Sam wanted to ask so many things about Brooke, and Brooke was exactly the same way, yet both had problems doing this. Sam knew she didn't deserve to ask questions, and Brooke knew she wanted truthful answers.

Sam swallowed hard and downed her third drink in one gulp.

"What are you doing in New York?"

Brooke was startled at the tone Sam had used. It seemed in some way resentful.

"Work… I fly back home tomorrow."

"You still live in the Palace?"

Brooke nodded.

Sam glanced at that ring again and so badly wanted to ask about that, but couldn't bring herself. She found that to be the most terrifying question. She didn't want to know that Brooke had found love, and yet, she couldn't figure out why. She knew she loved the blonde, but not in that way. Or maybe she did, but she refused to even allow near that road of thought.

"I'm glad you made it as a journalist, Sam. I truly am."

The brunette was stunned at that statement, not because it was said with sincerity, but because she didn't know Brooke knew this. She suddenly felt angry, and felt that the blonde had been following her, watching her.

She couldn't stop the anger, even if she had wanted to. The words were out of her mouth before she formed them in her head.

"What the fuck? How the hell do you know that? Have you been checking up on me? Jesus, Brooke! I left with…"

Brooke was shocked by the unexpected outburst and dragged the now standing and shouting Sam down, back to her seat.

"Sam, I read your article in the newspaper… I had no idea you were here… this was all luck." Brooke said waving her arms at their surroundings. "The last I heard about you was that you were at your grandmother's"

Sam looked at her questioningly, her rage still boiling.

Brooke sighed as she continued, "She phoned to tell us you were there… after that, there was nothing…" Her voice cracked, and Sam dipped her head in guilt.

As that not so friendly silence fell back into place, the two women watched each other with brewing anger and anguish.

The shrill of the phone made both women jump. Sam looked around before realising that it was her own. She smiled sheepishly as she took it out of her bag. She read the ID and sighed. `Jamie is going to kill me' She glanced at Brooke before grabbing her coat and bag.

"I've got to go."

Brooke stood up too. She took out a piece of paper, and scribbled on it. She handed it to Sam. "That's my cell. Call me… I'll be back in town in about a month. We need to talk properly."

Sam took it and nodded. The two walked outside and waited for cabs. Brooke turned to Sam.

"Why don't you come to Cali… I mean for Mac's birthday. It would be great for her."

Sam nodded, "Maybe… I'll think about it."

Brooke smirked, "No you won't come…"

As a cab pulled up, Sam gestured to Brooke to take it.

"Sam, please call me."

Brooke bent her head to kiss Sam on the cheek just as the brunette moved her head, causing their lips to meet. The shock of the actual kiss was not as shocking as the fact that neither attempted to pull away. They let their lips softly caress the other, slowly and tenderly before Sam pulled back. She laughed awkwardly and Brooke blushed.

Brooke pulled open the door of the cab, glancing at Sam once more before getting in.

Sam watched the car pull away before allowing her fingers to touch her lips. "Shit!"

She looked at the piece of paper with Brooke's number on it, before crumpling it and tossing it aside. "Fuck!"

Part 4

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