Dear Sam and Laura,

I attempted to use your prompts for this and failed miserably. But seeing as I have killed myself, I doubt it even matters. Please don't hate me. And please read as much into the car scene as you want to ;)

I love you.


"Laura, tell Harry that Clara is refusing to cooperate with me and that it is all her fault."

Sam's fingers tremble as she considers all the words she wants to write, but knows she never could.

Things like I think you might be my muse and I wish you weren't so far away. She shakes her head at such nonsense and presses the send button on her PM and waits. Meanwhile the document in front of her is blank save for the first word. Charlie.

And part of her actually believes that she can't write this CharlieDraco because her muse has left her and Laura has posted three new fics this week so clearly Harry is hogging all the motivation.

But deep down she knows it's because she can't concentrate. And it's all Laura's fault. But it's easier to just blame Harry.

It's what they do. They. Them. Sam&Laura.

She goes back to her story stats and reads the latest review from her 'better half.' Laura's just finished reading the Wolfstar drabble she wrote for her birthday and Sam feels a swell of pride that it's apparently Laura's favorite. But then her eyes linger on the parting words.


And how Sam wishes this was actually true, that Laura means it in a more than platonic way. And she knows that these are merely words on the internet from a person she's never even met. She knows that it is absurd to even think of Laura as anything more than some girl she just happened to talk to one day on a fanfiction website. But Laura is so much more than that. She is her friend, her encourager, her almost twin. How did it come to this?

And why does she keep checking for the other girl's reply when it hasn't even been five minutes? Laura's probably busy studying for her exam tomorrow. She's been stressing about it for days.

Sam decides that she will listen to some Michael Jackson to calm her nerves, only to refresh her inbox on her tablet to find that Laura has responded, making such efforts utterly futile.


The days grow increasingly longer as Sam counts them down. Somehow her calendar has started to revolve around the day she will finally get to meet Laura. After years of messaging and writing each other fanfiction there is no way that they can pass up meeting each other. They are too close.

Too close.

And Sam can only grin to herself as she gets into the front seat of Charlie the car and pulls out onto the road. She knows she's being silly now. Her palms are sweating and her heart is racing for nothing. Because she's always believed there is that one person, that one girl she could fall for, and she is even certain that for her, it is Laura. But Laura could never feel the same for her. It's all just wishful thinking.

"Get it together, Sam."

She drives into town on autopilot, her mind clearly elsewhere. It barely even registers that she's arrived at her destination until she's turning the key and Charlie has stopped. And then she looks up. The sidewalk is full of people passing each other, bumping shoulders, completely oblivious to the moment of truth they are about to miss.

And as the crowd clears, Sam sees her. Blonde hair shining in the bit of sun that's broken through the otherwise cloudy sky, eyes searching for a friendly and semi-familiar face. Sam slowly steps out of the car and waves a hand in the air. "Laura…" she begins uncertainly. But Laura perks up her head in response and Sam moves boldly forward. "Laura!"

They meet halfway, and then stop in confusion both wondering what sort of greeting is socially acceptable. Laura raises a hand in the air. "High five?"

But Sam shakes her head. "I'll take a hug from you any day."

"Good." And Laura is there. Holding her. Just like Sam imagined it would be like, warm and comforting and she somehow doesn't mind having her in her personal space. "Hugs are my favorite."

"I know."

Laura doesn't like coffee so they walk down to a nearby bookstore. It seems an appropriate place to talk. And it's as if they are still at home, talking comfortably about everything and anything only now Sam is staring at Laura's face and not a computer screen. She commits every expression to memory while she can and she wonders if Laura has a clue. A small part of her hopes that she does. But mostly the idea terrifies her.

They browse the aisles and talk about how Laura's vacation has been and what are they planning on doing tomorrow and how exciting it is that they are sharing the same air. They pause in front of the section lined with Harry Potter books and grin before they leave. Sam doesn't know where to go from here. She supposes they could just walk around for a while but the clouds have become dark and ominous and it looks like rain.

And just as the silence has started to become awkward it is broken by the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Sam groans and crosses her arms and she shoots a furtive look at Laura who only smiles sympathetically. And in spite of Sam's discomfort, she feels a sense of gratitude or maybe just a little bit of happiness that Laura remembered she doesn't like thunderstorms.

The heavens open and the rain begins to pour down. Sam quickly leads the way back to the car and they climb into the backseat before they get soaked.

"So, this is Charlie the car," Laura says. She leans sideways against the back seat, folding her legs beneath her and facing Sam. "I love him."

"Yeah," Sam says proudly, patting the headrest proudly. "Me too." She looks about the interior sheepishly, avoiding Laura's steady gaze. In doing so she notices the clutter that's accumulated in the backseat. Miscellaneous things that she keeps here because she never knows when she'll need them. She picks up a pair of brass knuckles off the floor, sliding her thumb over the ridges. "Don't mind the mess."

"I really don't," Laura assures her. She has to speak loudly now that the rain has begun to pour down even harder and then the thunder rolls once more. Sam can feel it reverberate in her chest, and she presses her face into the seat instinctively. She hopes the storm will pass quickly because this isn't how she wanted to spend her only afternoon with Laura. Or at least she that's what she thinks until Laura's arm is around her shoulder.

"I don't like thunderstorms," Sam says. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You don't have to be sorry."

Sam turns her head and rests it against Laura's shoulder. They've somehow inched closer, a tangle of limbs in the cramped backseat. Sam counts Laura's breaths between the claps of thunder and it helps to relieve tension. And all at once she's saying all the things that she knows could ruin everything they've had up until now.



"I think… I think you might be my one person." She closes her eyes and braces herself for the impact, hoping desperately that Laura knows what she means because she sure as hell doesn't want to explain.

A clap of thunder, or maybe it's Laura's heartbeat. Sam isn't entirely sure.

"I… think…" Laura pauses, measuring her words very carefully. "I think you might be mine too."

Neither of them notice when the rain stops.

It's three days later and Sam once again finds herself checking her inbox religiously until finally Laura sends her a message letting her know she's made it home.

"I miss you already.

ily, Sam.

I really do."

And it's not the first time she's said it. And it won't be the last time either. But Sam knows for sure now that she means it.

And all Sam can do is reply, "I love you, too."