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 Four
Judging A Dustcover
Sam stared down the alleyway where the dark haired, cape wearing would be assailant had fled when he'd entered the scene. He couldn't see anything in the shadows, which was probably the effect the guy had been after, especially if he made this a habit. He turned back to the petite blond who seem only slightly disturbed by the entire episode.
“Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly, cataloging her slightly glazed over eyes. It took her a moment and he was about to ask again when her eyes snapped up to him and she smiled.
“I'm just fine Sam,” she assured him and then turned and stuffed something she had clenched in her hand back into her ever present message bag. Sam hadn't even noticed that she'd had something, though he did recall the sounds of what seemed to be a fight and he wondered if Buffy was adept at protecting herself. He hoped she was, something that young women should be mindful of. “That guy was just some random creep. No matter where you go, there's always one, you know?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded and continued to look Buffy over. She seemed to be fine and he couldn't see where she might have been hurt or manhandled. “Do you think we should call the cops?” he asked, his brow furrowing, trying to remember what the normal course of action would be. Had it been his father or brother, they'd be running pell mell after the assailant. But that was his old life. In this new one, it was the cops that handled those things.
To his surprise, Buffy started sniggering. He eyed her cautiously, wondering then if she might have received a blow to the head. That wouldn't have been so obvious to a casual glance and he was wondering how he might approach that problem when she gestured back into the alley.
“He was pretty harmless, I think,” she announced. Sam couldn't help responding to her wide grin.
“You really aren't that upset about being cornered in an alley, are you?” he asked with a mix of unease and admiration. She shrugged and began to move out towards the street.
“Oh, remember that mentor of mine, Giles?” she asked. Sam tried to recall and then remembered what she had said the first day they'd met, about how the man had been their high school librarian. He nodded. “He taught me several forms of martial arts, after school and on weekends. And my mother ensured that I was fully equipped with a lifetime supply of pepper spray when I first moved here.” She patted her bag at her side and Sam realized that that must have been what she had put away. He felt warm inside to realize that it must have meant that she was comfortable with him. That she was telling him her secrets, rather than keeping them quiet in case she felt she needed them.
“Well, I'm glad about that,” Sam sighed. “Of course, he could have had a weapon, or something, so...”
“Oh but he did,” Buffy chuckled again. And Sam eyed her with alarm. But Buffy was too full of humor and he was helpless against the mirth in her eyes. “His fangs, you know?” she giggled, but all of a sudden, it sounded just a little forced to Sam's ear.
“His fangs?” Sam repeated, trying to run through his mind what sort of creature had fangs and wore capes. Well, there was the obvious, vampires of course. But Dad had said they were extinct.
“Yes Sam,” Buffy intoned as they walked together towards the lit street. “I just had the distinct honor of being addressed by Dracula himself.” Sam stopped dead in his tracks, shaking his head suddenly as if his ears were full of water. Her laughing tone was very evident now and suddenly Sam realized the situation for what it was.
“Seriously? Dracula?” He jerked his thumb back, over his shoulder. “He really thought...?” Buffy, her lips pressed together to repress a giggle, nodded. “Oh man,” Sam laughed as well and then sighed. “Oh the insanity,” he chuckled.
“I know,” Buffy joined in, adjusting the strap of her bag slightly. “Back in Sunnydale, this vampire role playing game was really popular. Like to a factor of a billion over the rest of the country. Kind of semi-small townish vibe, so people had to make their own entertainment.”
“Uh huh,” Sam murmured, enjoying listening to her now that the major threat of danger was past. He was very intimately familiar with those very small towns she was describing.
“Well anyway, I can't count how many times my friends and I would be out and about or coming home from the Bronze,” she glanced up at him and then quickly explained, “local club. My friend Willow's boyfriend was in a band that played there.” Sam nodded again and made an encouraging noise in the back of his throat. Maybe the Xander that she had mentioned was Willow's boyfriend? “Anyway, I can't even count the number of times we would stumble over some pimply, overweight kid proclaiming that he was Lestat or something stupid like that.”
“Was it always the same kid?” Sam asked with a grin. Buffy just rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Looks like the insanity has spread,” she finally did murmur, with one last glance back at the alleyway.
“Oh I know it has,” Sam rejoined, remembering an incident from a few years previous that was safe enough to share.
“Oh?” she asked, turning out of the alleyway and Sam, glancing up at the street signs, saw that whatever course she was on was at least in the same direction as his currently was.
“Yeah, couple years ago, my dad and brother and I were out camping. We were hiking around,” he explained, “and my brother fell over what we thought at first, was a dead body.”
“Uh oh,” Buffy gasped, though she didn't seem to be jumping to conclusions, which Dean certainly had. His older brother had been convinced that they'd found a victim of whatever they'd been hunting.
“Yup,” Sam agreed. “Turns out though that it was just some guy from the SCA, participating in a role playing event. He was a mage elf ranger, I don't know, Legolas wannabe,” Sam chuckled. “Anyway, he'd just been slain and yelled at us for disrupting the play.”
“Oh lord,” Buffy giggled, one hand covering her mouth as they continued walking. “Just one question?”
“What's that?”
“Well actually, plenty of questions,” she clarified, still mirthful, “but hopefully being fairly sane, I doubt we have the answers. But what's the SCA?”
“Oh sorry,” Sam felt a little stupid, realizing that not everyone would be familiar with the acronym. He hadn't been until he had looked it up. “It's the Society for Creative Anachronisms. Apparently it's this huge group that like medieval type things. They have fairs, groups, do role playing, all sorts of stuff. I guess some of them really get into it.”
Buffy seemed to consider that and then shrugged. “Well, sounds like an interesting hobby to have. Though I just couldn't see getting so into it. That seems a little too escapey of the life stuff, if you know what I mean.”
Sam processed that for a moment before agreeing. “Yeah, I guess I could see that. I mean, escaping the stress in your life once in a while isn't a bad thing, right?” Buffy nodded, though she was biting at her lip. “But you're right. I can't see immersing yourself so totally, like real life doesn't exist.” He felt a niggle of guilt right then, even as he said it. Wasn't that exactly what he was doing now?
No, he assured himself. He wasn't ignoring his old life. He was just moving on in the larger world. The one they all had to live in. Yes, demons and spirits and bad things existed. But that didn't mean they were the only thing. Living that life and nothing else? That had been unhealthy. Sam was sure of that.
“You know, I sometimes wonder what makes people want to disappear, to get lost,” Buffy offered quietly. Then she smiled up at him as he watched her, looking a little self-deprecating. “I guess that's why I declared psych as my major.”
“Probably a good place to start if you have questions like those,” he nodded. “So, were you headed any place specific?”
“I was,” Buffy nodded. She swept one arm ahead of them. “It's just down the street.”
“Oh cool,” Sam nodded enthusiastically. “I'm heading this way too. Mind if I walk with you? I mean, you've got your pepper spray, but it certainly can't hold that stimulating a conversation, can it?”
“If it did, what on earth would it have to talk about?” Buffy asked, giggling just a little, but she didn't deny him the pleasure of continuing with her. “The benefits of it over mace?”
“Or maybe the chemical composition of said aerosol deterrents?” Sam quipped back and again she made the adorable wrinkly nosed face.
“Ugh, chemistry,” Buffy groaned and then grinned at him. “Math makes Buffy brain hurt!”
Sam roared with laughter and then tried to contain himself, darting worried eyes at her. He hoped that she knew he wasn't laughing at her, per se, but she looked quite pleased.
“Sorry,” he offered, “you just reminded me... of my brother,” which wasn't a total lie. Dean didn't like advanced math either. “Not that you're like my brother, just...” he quickly backpedaled, realizing that it wasn't actually that much of a compliment to a woman.
“I highly doubt that,” Buffy smirked, as if she knew exactly what he was up to. “For one, I doubt your brother can pull off red leather pants like I can.”
Sam's eyes widened at that implication and he tried valiantly not to drop his eyes to her lower form. He already knew how shapely her legs were, from the various outfits that he'd seen her in. “No, I can't uh,” he managed to choke out. “Dean in red leather?” he winced. “Now there's a very bad image.”
“Usually is,” Buffy teased. “Especially if he's pimply, overweight, wearing a purple cape and calling himself Vlad.”
Sam smiled again and shook his head, noticing that she had slowed to a stop and was glancing up at the community center building and Sam realized that this was were he had been heading as well. Maybe she...? But no, he shouldn't get his hopes up about that.
“Well, this is me,” Buffy explained, gesturing to the building and climbing up the first step, which still didn't even put her on even footing with Sam. He moved after her and she narrowed her eyes, though she didn't look upset. She simply turned and led the way up the steps and opening the door, let him take it to hold open and then turned back again. “kay, all safe and sound inside.”
“We are,” Sam agreed and when she looked confused again, he chuckled. “I was on my way here to check out a club that's meeting here tonight.” He was relieved when her face cleared instantly and she looked pleased.
“Took my advice, huh?” she decided. “The fencing club?”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed and then realized why she must have been aware of it. “You?”
There must have been something in his tone, even knowing that she had taken self-defense courses, because she pursed her lips.
“Shouldn't really judge a dustcover by the funky art,” she warned playfully. “Might not find the correct interpretation,” she teased, reminding him of their shared art class.
“I'll watch out for that,” he assured her and with that cleared up, followed her into the room that declared itself the meeting area for the fencing club. Not recognizing anyone aside from Buffy, he followed after her as she chose a place on the floor and again felt that special warm sensation flooding his chest when she smiled up at him and patted the floor beside her. As he dropped down into a cross legged position, he decided that even if fencing wasn't his thing, Buffy Summers might very well be.
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