A/N: Fluffy little ficlet I wrote for a friend. I'm posting it because, as many have commented after I posted "Duality," there is a serious dearth of Sam and Charlie friendship fics.

"OK, so, hypothetically, how would you feel about someone braiding your hair?" Charlie asked, coming into the library.

"Hypothetically? I would need more information," Sam said, raising his eyebrows and smiling.

She walked over and hoisted herself onto the table next to his laptop, kicking her legs. "Me. I want to braid your hair, maybe give you a flower crown while I'm at it."

"I'm sorry, a what?"

"Flower crown. It's an Internet thing."

"Ah." He still looked skeptical.

"C'mon. You guys are always teasing me about being your unofficial little sister, and this is the kind of thing little sisters get to do with their big brothers. Pleeeeeeeeaaase?" She gave him her best imitation of his infamous puppy eyes.

Sam shook his head, smiling in amusement. The truth was, he did like having his hair played with, it's just that it hadn't happened in a non-romantic context since he was little. Charlie was still looking at him with pleading eyes. Eh, what the hell.

"All right, fine."

"Yay!" she exclaimed, jumping up and tugging on his arm.

"Where are we going?" he asked, following her lead.

"Your room," she informed him. "I'm going to do your hair, you're going to watch more Community."

"Sounds like a plan," he told her with a smile.

She stopped at her room to grab a brush, comb, hair ties, a bag of what looked like fake flowers with little sturdy stems, and her laptop.

Once they got to his room, Charlie piled pillows and cushions into a little nest at the foot of the bed and made sure Sam was comfortable, then hooked up her laptop to the TV. She sat down right behind Sam, slung her legs over his shoulders, hit play on the next episode, and got to work.

It was nice. Even though Sam always felt a little self-conscious when anyone fussed over him, he liked the feeling of her fingers running through his hair, her hands gently repositioning his head when necessary, the way she exclaimed at the softness of his hair and told him that "women everywhere would kill for these locks! or just to be where I am now. Actually, I don't think gender's necessarily a factor there."

"Charlie!"

"What? Your hair is incredible, and you don't even try to get it that way. I can't imagine anyone not wanting a piece of this action," she teased, tugging gently on one of the strands she was currently braiding.

"So where'd you learn this?" Sam asked after a while. What she was doing felt pretty intricate. "I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem to spend a lot of time messing with your hair."

"Most days, you're right. But I've helped enough friends and lovers, both with day-to-day and for cosplay-related reasons. And working on other people's hair is way easier than doing my own. And, I don't know, it's soothing. For me, anyway. Is this soothing for you, or mostly just weird?"

"No, soothing's a good word," he told her, smiling.

"Cool. Ooh, are you a Law and Order fan?" she asked suddenly.

"Uh, yeah, actually. It was what first gave me the idea that I might want to be a lawyer. Why?"

"This next episode is a send-up."

"Nice."

By the time she was done, the top layer of his hair was in a series of intricate, connected braids, and the fake flowers were tucked artfully into the braids to form a circle broken only by his forehead.

"Lookin' good!" she pronounced, handing him a mirror.

"You do good work," he told her, turning to admire the braids from as many angles as he could.

She slid down to join him on the floor, curling up against his side.

"Thanks, bro."

"You're welcome, sis." He slung his arm around her shoulders, and she reached up to her laptop and played the next episode.