So there's a lot of Brett/Foster love on the internet but seemingly no fanfiction. I intend to change that. This is still brewing in my head but I would love some input. I'd also love my fellow Brett/Foster fans to write some fic! Let me know how it's going. Thanks.

"Everything okay?" Stella asked suddenly, smacking Sylvie in the back of the arm and sufficiently knocking her out of the daze that she didn't even realise she was in.

"What? Yeah!" Sylvie yelped, startling. "What's up?" she asked, looking around the locker room awkwardly and awaiting an explanation from her best friend.

"Why didn't you tell me, you little slut?!" Stella said, wide-eyed and full of excitement, almost bouncing on her feet as she sat next to Brett.

"Tell you what?!" Brett gasped, looking around again to find they were (still) alone.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Stella asked, more quietly this time, disappointment creeping into her voice.

"Stella, I have NO idea what you're talking about," Brett told her plainly, the look of confusion on her face contradicting the nervous pull she suddenly had in her gut.

"Oh, god," Stella said, shocked. "You actually have no idea what I'm talking about." she asked, bewildered.

"I just said that," Sylvie chuckled.

"How long have you and Foster been hooking up?" Stella asked in a mere whisper, not as astounded by the look of surprise and terror on her best friend's face as she should have been.

"What?!" Sylvie spat, eyes roaming the empty room once again. "Where did… why would…" her head shook back and forth as she stuttered, unable to ask the question. "Why would you think that?!" she whisper-yelled finally.

Stella's brow furrowed solemnly as she sunk back into herself. She was as confused as Brett was upon having been asked the question. What?

"So you're not…" Stella asked, Sylvie's genuine reaction enough to prove that she wasn't covering. "But…"

"But what?! Why would you even ask me that?" Sylvie's breath had become heavy and her heart rate increased dramatically. Even though it wasn't true, it was still a terrifying concept. A concept that she tried to block from her mind.

"It just seems like—"

"Seems like what?!" Sylvie squeaked, wild-eyed.

"Well, I mean, how many nights have you spent with her this week?" Stella asked calmly, trying to get her friend to see her point of view without sending her into cardiac arrest.

"I have NEVER spent the night with her!" Brett said, too loudly, feeling her face warm and flush with blood.

Stella rolled her eyes obviously.

"Okay… evenings," she threw her hands up. "Semantics," she shrugged. This was turning out to be more difficult than she expected.

"Um…" Sylvie trailed off, obviously counting and trying hard to hope that the number was smaller than it was. "Like, four?" she shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Okay," Stella nodded, taking in the math. "And that doesn't seem like—"

"Like what?!" Brett snapped again, eyes wild as she tried to calm her heart rate to no avail. "I've spent evenings with you this week, too," she defended weakly.

"Yeah, we met up at Molly's like, twice. With Foster," Stella told her.

"Are you jealous, Stell?" Brett joked, poking her friend in the ribs and trying desperately to change the subject.

"Ha! Don't try to change the subject on me! I just wanted you to know that you could talk to me about it, ya know?"

"Nothing to talk about," Brett said sternly, standing from the bench and looking anywhere but at her friend.

"But if there was something to talk about…"

"Stella? There's not. Foster is my friend. Yes, we hang out. Just like you and I hang out. There's nothing more to it," Brett breathed out, suddenly wondering how much of her own story she believed.

"Do you think she thinks there's more to it?" Stella asked quietly, moving her head until she was in Sylvie's line of sight.

"No, Kidd. Foster has a different date every other night. She's definitely not interested in me." If Brett heard a hint of disappointment in her own voice, she ignored it.

"Maybe she dates a lot because she hasn't found the right person yet," Stella shrugged, rising from the bench as well.

"I'm sure that's true. But she will, eventually. And it won't be me," Sylvie assured her.

"Why do you sound kinda sad about that?"

Brett walked out of the locker room, away from her friend, without responding.