Disclaimer: The world and the characters of the television show 'Popular' do not belong to me in any way, though sometimes I lie awake at night wishing that they did and what I'd do with them if they did. And then I write those thoughts down.

A/N: Sort of semi-inspired by a fic Quatorz did a few years back (which I can't find a link to? Hook me up, dude), but I've always LOVED this mental image. Like. A lot. I'm swooning just thinking about it.

In her time at Kennedy High, Samantha McPherson has been subject to a multitude of 'looks' as she's traversed the hallways of the school. Usually, they're glares spurred by an article she's written or, on the odd occasion, expressions of gratitude for the same reason. The hostility has never bothered her; she's a journalist at heart and every good journalist knows that others won't always view her in a favourable light. Good journalists, she has told herself, made enemies and she has made plenty. She's been on the other end of incredulous stares and narrow-eyed glances of suspicion, but she's never encountered anything quite like this before.

People have never had reason to look at her twice. She isn't pretty like Brooke, doesn't make people rubberneck so fiercely that the act gives them whiplash. She can't touch the realm of 'strange and out there' in which April Tuna seems to inhabit, not that Sam wanted to so much as ease a toe into those waters. She isn't popular, isn't adored, and no one has ever looked at her like she has something to be jealous of.

Until today.

Today, the stares are different. The eyes that follow her as she makes her way to her locker are filled with curious confusion and uneasy envy. Suspicion trails in her wake, making every footstep that proceeds the stares seem a bit heavier, yet it throws a bounce into them as well. She feels self-conscious and shy and giddy, all things which she is grossly unaccustomed to experiencing and she balls her hands into fists in the pockets of the jacket she's wearing.

The jacket that's stirring the gossiping masses after a weekend of lethargy and drawing all manner of unfamiliar attention. Because as far as anyone knows, Sam has never been a Glamazon and therefore has neither a right nor a reason to be wearing one of squad jackets. Yet, that is exactly what had staved off the chill this morning and is now making her fellow high schoolers mutter and whisper in that unsubtle way that only teenagers and oblivious adults are capable of. She catches a few words here and there, the majority of them seeming to express wonder and confusion, though there is one she singles out that expresses concern for the life of a particular blonde cheerleader. Sam rolls her eyes at that, at all of it, and forges on.

She rounds the corner and sees Lily, Carmen and Harrison waiting near her locker. The sight almost causes her step to falter, almost stops her from moving altogether, but she takes a deep breath in, exhales, and keeps going.

Carmen is the first to spot her, catching sight of her over the head of the tiny girl she's standing behind. Her eyes grow impossibly wide and she raises an arm to wave a hand in Sam's direction, mouth working without sound. The sudden gust of wind against her face must draw Lily's attention because she looks up not long after Carmen starts flapping like a sea lion and when their eyes meet Lily just, smirks. Like the biggest shit eating grin that Sam has ever seen - and she once lost a game of Scrabble against Brooke - and she's outraged by the blush she can feel starting to warm her cheeks. Harrison is leaning against the wall of allotted storage and he's the last to see her, finding her with a tilt of his head. For a second his expression reveals nothing and Sam's heart is yanked into her throat by her violently swinging nerves. But she moves closer anyway and then he's smiling, boyish and rueful and it's everything she loves about him contained in a simple arrangement of muscles. When she comes to a stop in front of him he holds his hand up, palm out, and stares at her in a way she's seen him do a thousand times. Waiting, expectant. Her lips curl uncontrollably and she lifts a hand to slap her palm against his. It's a moment. One she'll remember forever.

And it's broken by Carmen's shrill, ear-piercing shriek. She explodes like a volcano, red hair flying as she bounces on the spot and - having found her voice again - starts asking questions faster than Sam can process them. So she doesn't try to all that hard. Just grins and grins, and grins.

"What the hell is this?" Her grin freezes in place as the blush that had just been threatening to overtake her entire body turns cold and the colour drains from her face. She isn't scared. Nicole Julian, for all her vicious effort, has never scared Sam, but she's been anticipating this moment since she first opened her eyes this morning and now that it's here she's struggling to hold onto all of those perfectly phrased insults she'd cultivated between then and now.

"Isn't it a little cold up here for you today?" Lily asks, with the kind of faux concern that appears genuine, yet stings like a bullet ant. She's a miniature knight in shining armour in that moment, sweeping in to play rescuer to Sam's awkwardly gawking damsel. "Or are you using the souls of the down trodden to keep you warm?" Nicole shoots daggers at her but even though Carmen cowers behind her, Lily remains unfazed.

"Don't you have someone's lawn to cut?" The 'spikey-haired she-demon' - Carmen's words, of course spoken when the girl wasn't near - snaps and it's readily apparent that Lily is ready to wage an all-out bitch fight, but Nicole's demon gaze has shifted back to Sam. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing this time Tippy, but you need to pull your lanky louse arms out of that jacket before you get your Spam stank all over it and people start thinking we're letting in freaks like you now." Mary Cherry grins like an escaped convict at her side, able to sniff out an impending fight as though she was born with the nose of a bloodhound. Which, after their stint locked in the Novak, Sam isn't about to rule out.

She feels the burn of anger start to boil beneath her skin, unpleased and itchy and so different from what she used to feel whenever she and Brooke would butt heads. It doesn't consume her in quite the same way and it makes her angrier than she enjoys being. Nicole knows exactly which way to twist the knife.

"Is there a problem?" The sickly sweet tone that Brooke uses, the one that's far too nice to be sincere, used to drive Sam crazy. She'd use it to reel people in and they'd fall for it every time without fail. Now, it sends a raw thrill of excitement through her as Brooke sidles up next to her, between herself and Nicole.

"Brookie," the would-be Queen of Kennedy sets steely eyes on the current reigning monarch, "I think it's time you install locks on your closets. The little pissant has finally stooped low enough to try and steal popularity." A smug smile slides onto Nicole's lips and Sam exhales as slowly and as quietly as she can manage. Because Brooke has gone deathly still beside her.

"She didn't steal anything." Her voice carries a measured evenness that Sam can tell is calculated and requires a firm grip to stop it from spiralling into something decidedly more uncontrollable. Harrison, Lily and Carmen have all gone quiet, their gazes shifting from Brooke to Sam, then to Nicole and around again. Sam has her bottom lip snared between her teeth and Mary Cherry is side-eyeing everyone, afraid to miss anything. "I gave it to her to wear." A harsh bark of disbelieving laughter bursts from Nicole.

"Did you not make your charity quota this month?" There is a brief moment of silence that feels so much longer than it really is because Brooke's face has drained itself of any expression and she's just staring at Nicole who is trying her hardest to hide the fact that it's unnerving her.

"Because," Brooke starts, turning from her co-captain so that she's looking at Sam properly. She reaches out and curls her thumbs into the opening of the jacket where it hasn't been zipped all the way and she grasps the material, giving it a little tug as if to straighten it out. "It looks hot on her." Sam's grin returns full force and the brilliance of her blush starts to leak back in.

And they're all watching Sam grin at Brooke as Brooke grins right back at her, not one of them able to say whose was bigger or goofier. Not that either care, they simply stand unimpeded by the attention, staring stupidly at one another. That's a new one for Sam too. Then, just as Nicole is readying herself to demand answers, Brooke answers her questions without saying a word.

With another solid tug of the jacket's collar, Brooke pulls Sam forward and brings their lips together in a gentle but undoubtable kiss. Mary Cherry lets out a gasp that sounds thoroughly scandalized and it's all but drowned out by Carmen, who has started shrieking again, and Lily's cries of pain. The redhead has her upper arms in a death grip and is shaking the smaller girl like a ragdoll. Harrison has the good grace to at least pretend he isn't paying attention but when Sam lets out a surprised sounding whimper, he can't help but glance sidelong at them. Brooke has pressed herself closer to Sam, thereby pressing her into the lockers, and has quite obviously deepened the kiss to leave Sam hanging by a thread and the rest of the hallway's populous to stare on in amazement. Harrison lets out a chuckle because of course. If Brooke McQueen was going to make a statement, then she was really going to make a statement.

It doesn't last long and when Brooke pulls back from the kiss she's still smiling while Sam blinks, a bit dazed and a little out of sync. A lot in love. Then Brooke is being yanked around by a hand that, for an instant, Sam is sure has claws.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Nicole roars, like a wounded animal that's trying to make themselves look bigger than they are. She's got her Ice Queen bitch-face on and Brooke doesn't so much as flinch under the gaze. "Have you lost your mind?" Hard hazel eyes drop to where Nicole's hand has grabbed her and they linger there for a moment before lifting to meet ones of icy-blue.

"If you don't let go of me, you're going to lose your hand." A few tense heartbeats pass. Nicole takes her hand back and the moment serves at some kind of catalyst. Brooke is suddenly moving forward until they're almost nose to nose and the only thing that's holding her back are the fingers Sam has wrapped around her wrist.

Every one of them can feel Brooke's rage, it's coming off of her in waves, but somehow she contains it. Steadies and condenses it into a stream of words that are spoken in a tone so slow and even, it's deadly.

"If you ever speak to her like that again," she pauses and in that almost unnoticeable passage of time, an unseen layer of ice has fallen over the corridor. "If you ever speak to her again, period, I will personally divulge every one of those dirty little secrets that you work so hard to keep hidden to every person in this school." Carmen is muttering "oh my god" on a constant loop under her breath, ignoring the elbow Lily keeps nudging into her ribs. Harrison looks like he's caught somewhere between terrified and turned on and their resident Texan looks like she might implode under the weight of the giant, maniacal smile that's trying to swallow her entire face. Nicole looks a lot like she wishes she had the ability to kill someone with nothing but the power of her mind and sheer desire, and Sam looks, well, a lot like Harrison does right now. And Brooke?

Brooke just looks. Stares right through Nicole like she should have been doing all along, cold and unflinching, like she's daring the other girl to fight back. To give her a reason.

"You know, B," the nickname leaves her like an insult and Nicole gives her lips a pointed lick, "you have your share of secrets too." And it's so, so close to being enough of a reason for Brooke to let herself go but Sam's fingers tighten and keep her in place.

"Oh, I'm done hiding." Brooke waves her free hand in the air, gesturing towards the crowded hallway. She's sure it's busier now than it was when she arrived. "In case you didn't quite catch that." She pulls her hand through Sam's to tangle their fingers together and the brunette's smile is simultaneously blinding and smug. "There's nothing you can say or dig up on me that I would care about. At this point, I think keeping secrets buried is really more of a concern for you." Nicole is livid. Not in the sense that she's about to scream and break things, though Brooke is sure she'll get there later, but it's written across her face. It's in the way she holds herself, so rigid she might snap at any given moment. On the surface it's just the same old Nicole.

But they all know what's happening underneath her facade. They know that Brooke has both broken free and wriggled her way right under Nicole's skin. And there isn't much more to say, so with a tilt of her head and a haughty sniff, Nicole turns to leave.

Only to be stopped, this time with Brooke's hand on her. Nicole glances back over her should and meets the eyes of a girl who was never much more than a rung ladder to her.

"I will finish you." Brooke says. It's a threat and warning, and a promise. It's an ending. And for all of Nicole's snark and venom, she has no comeback for this. Neither Brooke nor Sam are under any allusions though; the day will come. Nicole will wage war upon them and they'll be forced to fight back.

At least they'll be fighting together.

They watch as Nicole makes her exit, Mary Cherry trailing along behind her after giving Brooke and Sam a rather disturbing once over, and once they've been deemed far enough away Sam lets out the breath she feels like she's been holding since Nicole first showed up.

"Oh my god." She says, breathless, grinning, and to the side of them Carmen is once again echoing that sentiment. "Are you crazy?" She stares up into Brooke's eyes with something akin to wonder and the blonde just wrinkles her nose, shrugging her shoulders.

"Crazy in love." She says with a smirk and without missing a beat. Sam swoons.

Visibly, audibly, swoons.

She falls back to lean against the lockers again and lets out this noise that no one can put a name or a feeling to, while her gaze softens and the entire atmosphere around them becomes mushy. Harrison takes his leave with a chuckled "oh my god" of his own and a promise to catch up with Sam later. Lily rolls her eyes with a grin, calls them disgusting, and tries to drag Carmen away to class. She's disastrously unsuccessful the first few times, Carmen is too intent on interrogating them as Brooke leans in close to Sam and they both watch the spectacle unfold. It takes Lily threatening a tardy and detention with Glass for Carmen to actually listen and then they're leaving too. Carmen's "you guys are adorable!" ringing through the hallway as she yells behind her.

They're both laughing when their eyes find each other again and Sam's tapers off into a shaky exhale as Brooke's fades into a smile. The blonde is looming over the shorter girl and it strikes Sam randomly that they must look like a bizarro version of the typical "jock and cheerleader stand at the lockers" that seems to have happened in every teen-centric television show and movie ever made since the dawn of time. It makes her laugh.

"What's so funny?" Brooke arches an eyebrow and Sam shakes her head.

"You gave me your jacket." She dissolves, insanely, into giggles as if it's the funniest thing she's ever heard despite the fact that she's the one who said it. Brooke stares at her, utterly bemused, but with the kind of affection that can usually be found on the face of someone who's looking at the idiot they're in love with and is starting to realise just how deep they're in.

"You're a dumbass." Brooke gives Sam no time to argue, barely gives her time to stop laughing before she's tilting her head down for another kiss.

In the middle of a crowded hallway, with half the school watching.

And Sam just closes her eyes.

And sighs happily against Brooke's lips.