One Tree Hill/ Friday Night Lights Crossover. Tyra after the attempted rape, Rachel after the Tree Hill High graduation.
I had a lot of free time.

--Livingroom--

Austin's cold this time of year, if it ever really is. Cold enough for a coat, a pair of boots, and a warm hat to hide under at those long, relaxed outdoor concerts. It's a good time for moving, really, because you won't have a heat stroke carrying your shit up the stairs. But, they wouldn't have that problem, anyway.

They move down the hall from each other on roughly the same day, with roughly the same amount of luggage (baggage), with identical white leather purses, and the same layered, varied look smothering their eyes. It would hurt to look at them, all open and wounded and aching like that, except they're both so beautiful.

The blonde plays the Stones too loud and answers the door in her underwear sometimes, with an off brand beer bottle in her hand. It would be rednecky except for her short hair and those haunted eyes. She always looks like she's running. She always looks like she's being chased.

The red head wears too much makeup and blares Top 40 well into the night and if anyone ever caught her in her underwear, it would be planned extensively. She looks smarter than she thinks she is, and she's a tangled mess of misconceptions and confused acceptance. She always looks cornered.

Tyra stomps up the stairs one night with another six pack in her hand, another pack of cigarettes in her coat, to find Rachel asleep across from her door. She pauses above the girl and scratches her head a little awkwardly. She can't just leave her outside- except, she can. She turns her back and fumbles in her coat pocket for her keys. She's just turning the lock when she hears the other girl shift behind her.

"Hey." A grainy voice, vaguely commanding, comes from behind. Tyra has to turn around.

"Hey." She answers, her voice guarded . Rachel's eyes are a little red. She looks a little drunk.

"I lost my keys." She states.

"Uh-huh."

"And I'm kind of drunk." She continues. Tyra watches her unemotionally. "So, it'd be great if you'd let me crash on your couch." She smirks a little, an instinct left over from a lifetime of getting her way. "Promise I won't hurl on your furniture." Tyra just looks at her, her face flat but her eyes glittering.

"Okay." She agrees, turning back to her door as if she never spoke at all.

"Okay? Really?" And the girl really must be drunk, because she looks too put together to be asking so many questions. Tyra doesn't answer, just leaves the door open for the red head to come inside. She sets the cool beers on the kitchen table and sheds her coat. Rachel shuts the door and fumbles with the lock for a few seconds, muttering a couple foul words.

It kind of feels right, Tyra thinks, to have another girl at her place, cursing her locks, stumbling in half drunk in the early morning. She misses her sister, her mom.

Rachel walks into the kitchen, trailing her fingers over everything, and then settles down across from Tyra at the kitchen table. Tyra is already popping the tab of a beer and she sips it, sitting back in her chair to look over Rachel.

"So, Rachel, right?" The blonde asks, sipping her beer. Rachel nods absently, tapping her fingers against the table.

"Yeah." She answers. "You're Tyra." She states. Tyra nods. "That guy down the hall- Richard, Rob, something- he's always talking about you." She's got some authority back in her voice, something that seems to come naturally to her. Tyra doesn't respond. Rick is an asshole who's been trying to get into her pants since day one. It's never gonna happen. "He's an asshole." Rachel says, and Tyra laughs a little.

"Yeah, he definitely is." There's a gap of silence and Tyra pulls another can away from the pack. "Beer?" She asks, holding it out. Rachel takes it, muttering a tiny "thanks", and wonders for a hazy moment what she's doing in this mostly stranger's apartment, drinking her beer, crashing on her couch, when she could have just gone down to the landlord and made him let her in. But Tyra is smiling now, already on her second beer, and Rachel finds she doesn't care.

"We moved in on the same day." Rachel says.

"Yep." Tyra agrees. She remembers the white leather purses, the look echoed in Rachel's eyes. She remembers locking herself in her apartment, checking all the windows, all the doors, the phone. She remembers huddling under the covers and wishing she hadn't run away from everything, from Landry; she remembers running her fingers through her newly short hair.

Rachel catches the empty look in her eyes and changes the subject.

--

There's a knock on the door a few days later, and Rachel looks up distractedly from her laptop. Her red hair is a mess around her face and her glasses are slipping down her nose. She closes out her email and walks to the door.

Tyra's standing there. She smiles, friendly.

"You wanna go out somewhere?" The blonde asks, sounding a little surprised herself that she's asking. Rachel, one hand on the door, leaning against it casually, dips her mouth.

"Sure." She says. Tyra smiles, a little.

"I'll meet you out here in fifteen minutes." Tyra says, and she doesn't really wait for a reply, just turns and walks across the hall. Rachel watches her. She steps backward and shuts her door. Her mouth turns up.

--

The whole city is dry and dim at two in the morning; yellow lights dance out across the streets, smearing their shadows a few feet back. They're leaning into each other, laughing, half-drunk and tired. Rachel hooks her arm into Tyra's and they tilt toward the sidewalk, muttering to each other, barely making it up the step. Tyra helps the red head over and they both giggle a little. Tyra forgets to be scared of the dark. Rachel forgets to hold herself back.

They collide, stumble, against the wall of their building. Rachel presses Tyra into he wall, and tilts her head up to look into the girl's eyes. Everything has a fuzzy daze around it, including Tyra's mouth as she slowly edges down. And then they're kissing and neither really knows what to do about it. So, Tyra slides her hands under Rachel's jacket and Rachel brushes her tongue against Tyra's lips. Its sweet, and soft, and sort of new save a few drunken dares. This is drunken, and everything about it is daring, but it means a bit more than that.

Rachel pushes Tyra harder against the wall and then everything in the kiss is about need and loneliness and fear, and their teeth click as Rachel runs her hands through Tyra's jacket, up her tank top. Her fingertips graze against a soft, lace bra and she keeps going. Tyra arches into her touch, something she can't control.

"Let's go inside." Tyra breathes into Rachel's hair when the red head moves her mouth down Tyra's neck. Rachel doesn't respond, just nips a tiny mark into Tyra's skin and then pulls away, dragging Tyra with her. They don't know what the hell they're doing, but they like it.

They end up in Tyra's apartment, because she got her keys out first, and they barely make it to the couch, shedding jackets and shoes on the way, grazing arms and stomachs. Rachel falls back, Tyra follows her down, and they're kissing again, battling tongues and teeth and Tyra pulls back, landing short kisses on Rachel's jaw, her neck, traveling down and pushing up with her hands. Rachel leans up, her cheek brushing Tyra's and sheds her top. They're a tangled mess of limbs and mouths, and tongues and heat, of smooth legs sliding against each other and fingers in soft, messy hair.

--

They get up around ten the next morning.

Rachel wakes up in an unfamiliar bed with a foot brushing her own. She sits up, blinking a little, and sees Tyra sleeping soundly beside her. It's weird; really weird. But hot. She grins, and leans down to press her mouth into the blonde's neck. Tyra drops her eyelids up and down, trying to wake up. When she sees Rachel, she squints a little. Rachel gives her a tiny smile. Tyra glances toward their naked bodies, barely covered by a tangle of white sheets. Tyra smiles, just a little, for Rachel.

They go to get breakfast at the café two blocks down, and its kind of awkward getting dressed and talking haltingly. But they've both done it so many times, with too many different people. Tyra's hand brushes Rachel's on the way to the stairs, and the red head runs her fingers along Tyra's palm briefly. Tyra almost blushes.

Rick's door is open and he's stepping outside with a briefcase when he sees the two of them. A sleazy smile spreads across his face and he steps outside smartly, shutting the door behind him. As they pass, he chuckles lightly, but there's a hint of twisted friendliness in it.

"Ya'll were a little loud." Is all he says.