Title: Approaching Normal
Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.
Rating: UNK
Genre: Crossover
Type: Friendship/ Romance
Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester
Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.
Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.
Chapter Three
Fenced In
By the time that Friday night finally rolled around, Sam found that he was exhausted, but in a very pleasant, unusual way. For so long, hunting constantly, or at least being dragged around after his father and brother going to a hunt, Sam had developed an alertness, a tension that he couldn't easily settle down. And yet here, knowing that he had a safe place to go, as safe as the dorm rooms were, and the knowledge that he'd be here next week and the week after that, had allowed him to slightly lower all the defenses that he had developed over the years.
But at the same time, that constant influx of adrenaline into his system was no longer present and he found that he couldn't keep up the same level of activity that he had been used to before. Thinking on it, he found that maybe he was more sedentary than he had thought. Or maybe more easy going than previous circumstances had allowed for. So he was relaxing, but this wasn't the time for it. First year of college wasn't supposed to be mellow yet. He had classes to get to, research to do, because the professors were all for throwing the students right into the work and expecting results immediately, plus the mixers and the parties.
But as tired as he was, Sam was loving it. There just wasn't words enough to sort through the emotions he experienced this last week. So he just let it go. Just let himself enjoy the moment and pushed aside the occasional twinge of guilt that he still felt at having left his brother behind. He didn't have that same regret about leaving his father to his vendetta. That was a whole can of worms that he didn't want to touch with a twenty foot pole.
But there was something from his former life that was coming in handy at college that Sam had never thought of. Something he was not quite grateful for, but recognized the usefulness of. Scamming.
And not running pool scams like his brother had, or credit card fraud which was their mainstay way of affording food, gas and motels. It was a much longer known manipulativeness that Dean had Sam doing since he was a little boy. Nope, this time around it was the food scam. Dean had always used Sam to get a little extra out of people, citing that no one could resist Sam's little face, especially as he was wont to look embarrassed over his older brother's ministrations. People usually misconstrued it as something else. But to Sam's utter relief he had seen many students around him, mostly the older ones that frequented the campus cafeteria, employing it to certain varying degrees of success. When his own roommate had returned to the dorm to stash things around his side of the room, Sam had been amused. But it made sense. Using the meal card once a day instead of three times a day ensured the longevity of the cards use and there was no restrictions on how much food was taken to eat, once the students were through the entrance line. In fact, Sam was pretty sure that the administration knew exactly what was going on and turned a mostly blind eye to the practice. With that thought in mind, he'd engaged in a little food hiding himself.
But dinner was a different matter. Sam had learned that the best meals to get were the hot ones that were filling and varied. Breakfast cereals and rolls could last all day or be saved for the next. Certain fruits were also good as well. But the hot meals didn't travel well back to the dorms, so Sam made sure and loaded up every night. But he had quickly realized that this was how that freshmen fifteen made itself known. Packing on all those calories and then returning back to his room for studying or going partying where there was beer and snacks and what passed for dancing.
So it was that and just a feeling that he needed something more physical to do than walking back and forth to classes and the library, that had Sam prowling the notice board just inside the cafeteria. These boards were all over really, but in an effort to keep the campus trees and light poles from being plastered with these notices, the school had put up cork boards in numerous public locales.
Sam returned general greetings from some of the people he recognized from various classes and once at the cork board, started looking over the brightly hued papers in an effort to find a club that he just might enjoy. They seemed to run the gamut from study groups, which might interest him down the road, to book clubs, music clubs, coffee clubs and even a knitting club. He scoffed lightly to himself. If he even entertained the thought of that and if Dean ever got wind of that and he'd never live it down.
With a sigh, Sam turned away from the message board, feeling slightly annoyed. He knew there had to be more than just clubs and rallies going on here. Maybe he could stop by the library and look up a gym or something in the immediate area. But as soon as the mood hit, it lightened again as a very familiar blond head of hair was spotted, right in his path.
Of course, Buffy had her head down and seemed to be concentrating on making it through the spate of last minute diners, since the cafeteria would be closing in about fifteen minutes. Sam would have stepped aside and called her name to catch her attention, but found himself blocked in by some females in a group. So it was either stay in Buffy's way or bump into a much larger group of females. And regardless of what else his father had taught him over the years, Sam had held on to the manners. Because those were actually useful to have in the outside world.
“Hey there,” he called out just moments before she would have collided with him. He was absurdly pleased when her head came up and the exact moment she realized who she had almost plowed into registered with her and a huge grin lit up her face.
“Sam! Hey!” she returned enthusiastically and then gestured around. “Thought I could make it out of here before the last minute crush. Guess I was fooling myself.”
“You've already eaten?” Sam clarified, trying to dismiss the slight sinking feeling he had anytime she was around and about to leave. He knew rationally that she was on her way out, but he had been hoping that just maybe she'd been chatting with a friend or classmate or something before joining the line to get food.
“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. “The lasagna was good, but I think they're out. I'm kinda iffy with the meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“I don't mind meatloaf and mashed potatoes,” he shrugged. It wasn't like they had a lot of choice growing up and sometimes the school lunch was the only hot meal they got in a day, if Dad was on a hunt and Dean was running low on funds.
“Eh,” Buffy grimaced. “Bad high school experience.”
“What could be so bad about cafeteria mashed potatoes?” Sam wondered aloud, unless she just didn't like reconstituted potatoes.
“It wasn't so much the food as who was preparing it,” Buffy sighed and shook her head. At Sam's quizzical look, she leaned forward and spoke quietly. “We had a cafeteria worker who kinda went nuts and she ended up putting rat poison in the mashed potatoes.”
Sam's eyes went wide. She couldn't be serious, could she? But then Buffy grinned.
“Don't worry, my friend Xander saw her doing it and kept everyone from eating,” she explained airily. “From the way it sounded, the lady was just depressed that the school wasn't utilizing her skills and decided that if we were going to act like vermin, then we would be treated like vermin.”
Sam frowned. “That sounds... really...”
“Like a complete psycho,” Buffy giggled, “which she was. But I'm sure the potatoes here are just fine.” Her words ended on a completely serious note and her eyes were wide and innocent and Sam almost believed the pose for a second. Only a second because behind the innocence was humor.
“Uh, I think I'll just stick with a salad then, just in case,” he decided, thinking as well that it was probably an isolated incident. He'd never heard of anything like that before and if school cafeteria workers were an epidemic it would have heard about it from one source or another.
“So, I could see how almost eating poison would put you off a food,” he continued quickly, hoping that she wasn't in too much of a hurry.
“Actually,” Buffy grinned, “I wasn't in the cafeteria right then. I was umm,” she frowned, looking deep in thought, her eyes shifting to the side and Sam realized at one that she was trying to figure out how to hide the truth. He'd done it enough himself and seen his father and brother in action to recognize the telling signs. He was wondering if he should let her off the hook, but she was the one that had brought it up. “Well, to tell the truth, I was up in the tower with another student.”
“Oh,” Sam could feel his eyes growing wide as he took in the implication of that. One, judging by Buffy's instant, mortified blush, that was apparently wrong.
“Oh no, not like that,” she chuckled, shaking her head a brief moment. “See, there was a letter written to the school paper and I saw Jonathon up in the tower with a high powered rifle and well conclusions and the jumping of,” she trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.
“Seriously?” Sam gaped. This kind of situation was one that he was kind of intimately familiar with, at least years if not decades after the fact.
“Well, we kind of read the letter wrong,” Buffy explained quietly. “We took it for a 'you're all gonna pay for treating me like this' letter, when in actuality, it was a last desperate cry for help. Jonathon went up there to kill himself.”
“And you went up there with him?” Sam questioned softly. His admiration for her just sky-rocketed. Buffy shrugged again.
“I thought he was gonna... so yeah,” she murmured, glancing down at her feet. “Turns out, he was in pain, just like every other teenager in America. He just didn't realize that everybody was so busy ignoring his pain because they were too engrossed in their own.”
Sam blinked several times. He'd never really considered that. It was something that succinctly explained why ghosts existed, so many of them teens and young adults at their time of death. Anger and pain didn't just go away when you died, regardless of what people thought. He finally asked, “did you manage to get through to him?”
“I did,” she grinned at that and Sam was grinning with her. “He got some serious counseling and made it back in time for prom.”
“That's good to hear,” Sam sighed happily. A happy ending that could have turned out much differently. Sam noticed then that others were swirling around where they were standing, the line for dinner progressing at a good clip. Of course, Buffy seemed to notice as well.
“Sheesh, here I am chattering on, keeping you from your dinner,” she shifted on her feet and one hand came up to brush his arm. “I'll let you get going, since,” she turned her arm, glancing at her watch, “I have just enough time to stop off at my dorm.” The last words were muttered and Sam didn't quite have the courage of his brother to ask what her plans were. He simply grinned and let her go, knowing that he would see her again, even if it wasn't as soon as he would like.
“Yeah,” he nodded as she stepped to the side. “I'll catch you later.”
“Bye Sam,” she called over her shoulder as she exited out the doors. Sam watched her for just a moment before a nudge called him back and he realized he needed to join the line or go home. But he found, despite Buffy's words, he ended up avoiding the mashed potatoes, just in case.
*****
Sam was hurrying back to his dorm, his dinner feeling slightly like a lead weight in his middle. Normally he wasn't one to eat and run because he ended up feeling precisely like this. But after having grabbed his dinner, he'd found some class mates to sit with and in the course of the conversation, he had found out that a fencing club was meeting for the first time that night. While not normally his usual bag of tricks, it had sounded interesting and the encouragement of Brad, the one who'd mentioned it, was welcome. Brad had suggested that Sam grab some work out clothes, or at least loose sweats and a t-shirt to change into for the class. So Sam was on his way back to his dorm room to do so. He had estimated, given the address of the where the club was meeting, that he'd have just enough time to avoid being late and disrupting the meeting.
Luckily he had everything organized the way he liked it, no longer having to put up with his brother's slovenly ways, or living out of a duffel bag any more. Sam stuffed his change of clothes into a small bag, threw it over his shoulder and exited his dorm room in under three minutes. Taking a moment to orient himself, he then headed down the street, his long stride eating up the distance quickly.
Unfortunately, the fates seemed to have something else in mind for him as he heard the distinct sounds of an altercation coming from a nearby alley. Reassuring himself that it was probably not the kind of fight he was used to, but probably just some drunk frat boys blowing off some steam, or possibly worse, maybe a robbery in progress, Sam still retained his presence of mind to approach cautiously, hoping the whole while that it was two animals fighting over scraps from a trash bin. But what he saw made his heart stutter.
Caution mostly forgotten, he charged into the alley, intent on what he'd been taught from the youngest of ages. Protect the weak and the innocent. “Buffy!” he yelled, hoping to get both her and the creeps attention. It worked as the darkly looming figure's head snapped up from where the guy was advancing on her. Buffy half turned as well, though she seemed more puzzled than worried.
“Sam?” she called back, but then seemed to remember what was coming at her and shifted, Sam was glad to see, defensively. He was still a little too far away to hear what the guy said to her, but then, with an unimpressive swirl, the guy had whirled around and taken off at a fast clip further into the alley. And was he seriously wearing a cape? He reached Buffy, who was staring after the creep, her entire face thoughtful.
“Buffy?” Sam reached out and gently shook her shoulder until she looked up at him. “Are you okay? Did you know that guy?”
She was silent for a moment, turning her head back to where the stranger had disappeared. Then she sighed. “Never saw him before in my life.”
Judging A Dustcover
No comments:
Post a Comment