Fiction Approaching Normal- Chapter Seven

Title: Approaching Normal

Chapter Title: Seeing Some of the Real Me

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: PG-13

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 Seven

Seeing Some Of The Real Me

Sam was eager to get to school come Monday morning. He had been fretting all weekend. He hadn't recognized that fact at first. He knew that he had been having a little trouble focusing on his schoolwork, the homework that he needed to complete. Thinking that it had been just a case of going stir crazy in the dorm room, he had decided to head out to the local library. But there, it was a case of the same. He was having trouble concentrating. And then, when he realized that every time he heard a feminine voice that sounded even slightly familiar and glancing up to see that it wasn't Buffy, he'd reluctantly turn back to the book he was reading, skimming, or the notes he was trying to take.

He knew better of course, that she'd be back so quick. From what she had described, her friend was going through a rough break up or something and needed female bonding time. And Buffy had rushed right back to help her. It had helped just a little, though he didn't want to examine it at the time, that as he counted it up, she seemed to have more female friends than male ones. At least back home. He couldn't say for sure here at Stanford. They only had the one class together and of course, the fencing group. But he was unsure still as to whether or not Buffy was going to stick with the art appreciation class.

With accomplishing his homework at the library a wash, he had headed out for dinner, but had had to eat a solitary meal. Not that he usually minded that, because it was a somewhat familiar situation to him. And he missed his brother, much more than he wanted to admit. At least, with Dean around, there'd always been someone to talk to, even if it was just to end up arguing. But Sam reminded himself, it wasn't like he was totally alone one hundred percent of the time. He'd just catch some of the friends he had been making... later.

Sunday was pretty much a repeat of Saturday, except that he was pacing his room a little more than was his usual wont when there was a problem preying on his mind. Realizing that forcing himself to do his homework when he was so distracted would result in sloppy work and a low grade, he had allowed himself some time to think on this other problem. The problem was, he couldn't see where the problem was.

Things had started off great, even if it had been an accident just barely averted. It hadn't been a monumental thing. Spilled coffee happened all the time. He would have offered to pay for her dry cleaning. And they could have gone from there, since they had their class together. Even if neither of them had known it at the time. She hadn't always been able to stick around, but from what Sam could understand of the hints in their conversations and her body language, she was interested in... something. He had thought on that a while too.

In high school, there had been no interest, really. No competition, because all the girls flocked to the elder Winchester boy. Dean had been fun and rebellion and heat all wrapped up into one horny package. He had had no problem using girls and forgetting about them before Dad had even had a chance to swoop in and pack them up to move on to the next job, the next town. Sam had been left on the sidelines, but for the few times that Dean had tried to hook him up. And with the results usually being embarrassing, or nauseating, or both, Sam had begun to shy away from his brother and his ideas of 'high romance'.

But when Dean was finished with high school and Sam still attended, he had begun to blossom a bit on his own. It hadn't hurt that he'd had a massive growth spurt and with Dad and Deans' insistence on the hunting, the physical activity had helped tone his body and add the muscle mass that kept him from being a total string bean. The loss of his pre-teen chubbiness had allowed the sharper planes of his face to develop, though not harshly and he had begun to attract his fair share of feminine attention from different quarters. It had been that and also a time of encouragement from certain teachers, learning how to stand up for himself without having to rely on his big brother's presence and how to stand up for others that had helped Sam come into his own.

And one of the things that he had looked forward to with getting away to college, wasn't just the learning aspect, it was the social connection. He hadn't come to college to party, but he had been very much looking forward to meeting and getting to know people that he wouldn't just have to up and leave in a few weeks, or less. And there had been, the thought, more than a few times, that maybe those people could include females of the more permanent type. A girlfriend, maybe a few (though not all at once), since Sam really wasn't sure what type he would be attracted to. And eventually a girlfriend that would evolve into something... well, a little more permanent. Something that Sam craved, knew that he did, but never acknowledged outside his own mind. A family. His own, one that accepted who he was, deep down, that loved him for what he was, not despite it.

He hadn't really had these thoughts with Buffy. He was still stuck in the getting to know her and knowing a few things about her, really wanting to get to know more about her stage of a relationship. And yes, there was the physical attraction. She was a very pretty girl. And funny. Athletic, of course and actually, a little more brainy than stereotypes would say she was. Altogether, it was a package that Sam liked.

So the problem was, did she like him back in the same manner? And if she did, what had happened to put the brakes on that? Because the last time he had seen her, it was as if she was with someone who was nearly a complete stranger. There had been nothing of the humor and empathy that she had shown him just minutes before they'd left that complex. He might have worried that another girl had said something to her, but there hadn't really been anyone else about. And there was the thought that perhaps she was more concerned about the nights events than she had been letting on. Of course, that hadn't been the case earlier, when that role playing reject had cornered her in the alley. But then, there was the added stress of a friend needing help.

Or at least that was what Sam was trying to convince himself of.

That evening, after finally completing his homework, Sam had taken off for the Stanford dining room again and this time, was relieved to see a class mate of his from his computer class. Brady, he recalled easily, since the guy had offered to partner up with him on the upcoming projects. They'd had an easy time, working together already in class. They'd meshed well and Brady had a great sense of humor and had encouraged Sam to join in the college life a little more deeply than he already had. Not that Sam had exactly embraced Brady's idea of a good time. But he had the feeling that Brady would talk him round into attending some of the parties, at some point, sooner or later.

After going through the line and receiving his fare, Sam made a beeline to join the group, wanting to get out of his head for just a little while. He was welcomed instantly as Brady chivvied everyone down a little to make room for Sam at the table.

“Hey man,” he greeted, slapping a gentle palm on the back of Sam's shoulder. “Was wonderin' if I was gonna see you down here.”

“I've been around,” Sam grinned as he started arranging his meal off of the tray. He picked up the utensils rolled in the paper napkin and settled the knife and spoon off to the side. With his fork he spread the casserole entree out a little to let it cool before digging in. “Had some homework to finish, but I'm good.”

“Which class?” another student asked, a young woman, brunette with pretty features. She didn't quite have the animation that Buffy's had, but she still seemed nice.

“A couple,” he grinned.

“Oh sorry,” Brady chuckled. “Sam, this is Julie, Julie, Sam. We got Philo 101 together.”

“Ah,” Sam murmured and then shoved a forkful of food in his mouth. Talk resumed around the table about, from what Sam could understand, the validity of some of the protest groups that had arisen already, whether they were legitimate concerns or problems being blown out of proportion by skewed, biased facts in which information had been deliberately left out, to attract young impressionable minds. Sam found it interesting and weighed in a few time as thoughts occurred to him. But when he caught sight of a blond bounding into the cafeteria in such an exuberant manner, conversation was forgotten and Sam stared until the girl turned and he sagged in disappointment.

“Keepin' an eye out for the honeys?” Brady teased and Sam startled slightly. Flushing a slight pink, he shook his head quickly. “Or maybe it's just one in particular?” Brady continued, his voice bemused. “A certain Miss... Buff-ay?” her name was drawled off his lips like molasses and Sam eyed his friend. There were good humored smiles on the assorted members of the small group and Brady, who had already finished his meal, sitting with arms crossed and his elbows resting on the table, nudged Sam lightly on the arm with the elbow closest to him.

“Why would you think that?” Sam demanded, swallowing slightly, embarrassed that he was apparently quite transparent in his feelings.

“I didn't... until now,” Brady teased. “Although, the way you were mooning over her Friday night was a pretty good indication, huh?”

“I wasn't mooning,” Sam protested immediately, hotly, the flush on his face growing slightly.

“Uh, let's see,” Brady, leaned back in his chair, held up one hand and including the others in his glance, began ticking things off. “Grinning like a fool, bouncing up and down the moment you spotted her, givin' her the big ol' puppy dog eyes... survey says?”

And the rest of the group laughingly responded, “mooning!” Sam ducked his head as they tittered at him. Was he really...? He peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw that the laughter was dying down quickly. Brady had resumed his position of before and nudged Sam's arm.

“No big man,” he breathed out, not too loud, but not like it was a secretive communication. “Lot's of guys got the hots for her.”

“They do?” Sam asked helplessly, feeling a sinking feeling clenching it's way down the middle of his gut. Of course they did, he answered himself. She was pretty, smart, funny, athletic, his mind cataloged instantly again. Why wouldn't guys be attracted to that? Lord knew, he was.

Brady was nodding his head and hmming to himself. “Thought she was pretty cool myself,” he indulged. “Figured she'd come off as some snob, but she's pretty cool.”

“Oh,” Sam murmured, suddenly feeling a very strange and discordant, unfamiliar depression sink over him. “Do you...?” he began to ask, but couldn't force the words out. But Brady understood immediately.

“Ah hell no,” he laughed deeply. “Sure, she's a great girl an' all. But we're just friends.”

“You are?” Sam asked, seeing suddenly, a dim light at the end of the tunnel he suddenly found himself in.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “We had a couple classes together last year, partied together some. She's alright. A little strange sometimes. Don't always understand when she speaks... but, yeah, Buffy's okay.”

“She does have a weird way of twisting her verbs, doesn't she?” Sam smiled indulgently. But then the smile faded, as seriousness took hold again. Anxiousness also made an appearance.

“What is it man?” Brady asked, picking up on the mood shift and toning his voice down even more, shifting so that his back was to his neighbor on the other side giving Sam his full attention.

“Nothing,” Sam sighed as he pushed his meal away. Brady just waited, patient. And then Sam wondered, why not? It wasn't like Brady would use a moment of perceived weakness against him. Not like Dad and Dean would, storing them up to drag out when he was at his worst. The very kind of thing that his family did, holding gripes and grudges like bludgeons. “Well, it's not nothing. But I can't figure it out.”

“What happened?” his friend encouraged.

“Friday night,” Sam began. “Things were... going well.” Brady nodded, encouraging him to go on. “And then, after... things just changed. She got really distant. Cold even.”

Brady inhaled sharply and leaned in closer. “What'd you do man? You didn't...?”

“Didn't what?” Sam demanded softly. Brady glanced away momentarily, his eyes narrowing as he focused on something elsewhere. But then he turned back to Sam.

“You didn't, you know... sleep with her and then blow her off?” Brady demanded quietly and Sam's eyes startled wide.

“No!” he protested immediately. “Of course not. We're not... jeez, we haven't even had a date. Or anything like that,” he mumbled. That seemed to relieve Brady and he motioned Sam in. Curious, Sam leaned down to hear what Brady had to say.

“See that douche over there?” his friend asked. Sam glanced up where Brady was gesturing. There, in the center of the dining room, where a group of what looked to be jocks, all sorts of types, really. “Dark haired, in the blue sweater?” Sam nodded as he pinpointed the male that Brady was pointing out. “That's Parker Abrams man.”

“And who exactly is Parker Abrams?” Sam wondered, slightly confused. How did they get on to another person when they'd been talking about Buffy?

“The dick that slept with Buff, dumped her and told everyone she was a slut for giving it up to him so quick,” Brady informed him with some sort of poorly concealed antagonism.

“What?” Sam's eyes darted to Abrams again, seething dislike of the jerk bubbling up his chest on principal alone, a rage building in more intimate reaction to the treatment of someone he considered at the very least, a friend.

“So man, not sleeping with her after just gettin' to know her?” Brady chuckled darkly. “You're already a step ahead of Abrams.”

“What happened?” Sam asked helplessly, craving more of these tidbits. Perhaps it would help explain what had changed Buffy's attitude. Perhaps it might not be a reaction to him per se, but things in her life that she hadn't shared with him. He felt a small twinge of guilt that he was hearing this from a third party, but he assured himself that if it ever came up, he would handle it with as much sensitivity as he could muster.

“Man,” Brady shook his head, straightening up again. “Buffy's a one guy girl, you know. And from what I gathered, she had this big, strong romance with some guy in high school. Soul mate type deal. But you know, everyone thinks their love is like that as a teen.” Sam nodded his agreement. He had already sensed these things, he knew. But hearing it confirmed twisted his gut again, even as it spoke to his own soul. “Anyway, this guy just up and left her, broke her heart. So she came to college, looking to start fresh. And Abrams, he's the use her and lose her type of guy. He gets off on duping freshmen girls. At the same time he was playing Buffy, he had five or six other girls on the line too. Got some crap line about losing his dad and how he realized that life was too short for sitting around. Lotta girls seem to fall for it and unfortunately Buffy weren't no different.”

“That's not...” Sam began, wincing. That wasn't actually a bad philosophy, but to use it to manipulate other people? That's where Sam had to draw a line.

“Yeah man,” Brady nodded. “It really got to her. She took a huge blow to her self esteem. Took her a while to come back from it. Don't know precisely what got her over the hump. But she's still kinda shy about the dating scene.”

“Okay,” Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He could understand all that. “Good to know. Thanks.”

“But I wonder,” Brady mused, “if she's upset with you, what'd you do?”

“I don't know,” Sam admitted, still mystified. “Maybe,” he pondered, as a thought occurred to him. “Maybe she really was just upset about her friend. What you told me, really puts that in perspective.”

“What friend?” Brady asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. Sam shrugged.

“Girl from back home,” he explained, not wanting to give away too much, since Buffy had spoken sort of in confidence to him. “Sounds like she was going through a rough patch.”

“If it was a friend of Buffy's?” Brady snorted and then shook his head. “Yeah, that girl is righteously furious in her protection of her friends and family. She's devoted to them.” And then he chuckled again. “The kind of devotion that comes along once in a lifetime.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled, feeling slightly better, at least with how things probably stood between he and Buffy. “That is pretty rare.”

“And it's a gem when you find it,” Brady sighed contemplatively. He then clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder. “Now eat up. You're gonna need you're strength for when that girl gets back. And man, I am gonna give you all the good tips.”

“Good tips?” Sam asked, amused, even as he pulled his plate back towards himself.

“Like numero uno,” Brady began, “don't let her drink.” He laughed loudly. “Beer and Buffy? Not on speaking terms! Bad things happen when Buffy hits the booze.”

“Yeah, she said something like that once,” Sam winced, as he recalled the frat boy party story Buffy had told him.

“Second,” Brady went on. “She adores her Mom and her sister, but that girl drives her nuts. You bring up the kid sister, you may have to listen to a three hour rant.”

Sam didn't think that that would be so bad. After all, he could fill just as much time complaining about his brother. With an amused snort, he continued to feed himself while Brady went on, dispensing what advice he could, while Sam soaked it all up like the mental sponge that he was.

*****

Later that day, after classes were over, and it was still early afternoon, Sam was feeling a kind of nervous energy. There was a possibility that he might see Buffy around campus. He was hoping that she was back and wishing that he had some way of contacting her. Well, there was looking through the campus directory, but part of him wished that she would offer her number to him, rather than him searching it out. It was doable, but if she were to offer, then he would know that it was all right to call. He thought that they knew each other well enough to at least be able to check and make sure that she had made it home okay. Or technically speaking back home and then back to college. Even if there was nothing more there, that was still allowable, wasn't it?

It was difficult for him, these rules of relationships, he realized, because his family had spent so much time on the road, they hadn't stuck around for more than a month, maybe six weeks top at a place. And while Dean was a fairly simple person to get along with, he was still Sam's older brother and knew all the right buttons to push, even when he didn't mean to. And Dean's idea of relating to people was also very simplified. There were very few categories that people fell into. There was the us and them category. Simple enough, as everyone that was not a Winchester or a hunter that they knew quite well was not to be trusted.

Beyond that, were they of the hot female persuasion? Then they were worthy of attention when Dean was bored. Or were they males of the sucker type that he could bilk for money? Or were they authority types to be avoided? If people fall into any of those categories, then Dean pretty much ignored them. And Sam had been helplessly dragged along for the ride. And even as he realized this, Sam also recognized that he had developed his own defenses about letting people get too close. He'd had to for the safety and security of people not believing that he was crazy.

But at the same time, he had a natural affinity for emoting with people. Probably because he was coming into situations, not knowing everything, so he was quick to see what the problems might be. Or able to apply the emotional upheaval that growing up for anyone caused, because he had seen so much upheaval in his own life. Certainly there were going to be situations that were strange to him, but at least he had a good foundation of being able to imagine how he would feel if he were in another person's shoes. And to draw upon it when needed.

So that was how he had dealt with hearing from Brady all the things that had happened to Buffy. He certainly understood how it felt to be used by another. To have people make fun of him for a decision that wasn't the best. And yes, while he was no stranger, thanks in very much to Dean, about sexual matters, nor was he a virgin.

Recognizing the small electric feel of excitement at the thought of another Buffy sighting happening at some point soon, he was in turns amused by his own mind and body, but also cognizant of his need to burn off some of that energy. In his turns around town, he had noted some resources that he had thought might come in handy down the road. One of those being a gym that seemed not to cater to health fad fanatics. Or college types out to make a quick pick-up. He wasn't like that. And when he went to a gym, it was because he truly had a need to burn off some energy or do something mindless so that he could work through a problem in his head.

Today was both.

And lucky for him, one of the guys in his class was a member of this particular gym and had kindly offered him a guest pass for the rest of the month. If he liked the place, the membership fee was reasonable and he was quite sure that he could swing it on his carefully laid out budget. So after his last class of the day, Sam loaded up his workout clothes and all the necessities he'd need to clean up afterwards.

The gym was not one of those flashy places, but he noted immediately that it was clean and moderately busy. The staff was friendly right from the get go, explaining the services they offered once he'd shown them his guest pass and directions around the building. So with a huge grin, he moved off to change.

As he moved out into the main room, Sam looked for the treadmills. He had decided that he'd try a run first, then maybe move onto some free weights. After that, he'd see what appealed. Since it had been awhile, he wanted to stretch to warm up first. As he found some mats near the bank of treadmills against an outer wall, he lowered himself down to stretch out his leg muscles before moving onto lower back stretches. It had been a while since he'd done any prolonged running and didn't want to end up pulling or tweaking anything that wasn't meant to be used like that.

He noted that no one seemed to take notice of him. And when he climbed onto the treadmill and chose his speed, incline and duration, that there were people at nearly every apparatus. There was also a class taking place in a glass walled room off to his left. He didn't give it much thought immediately, aside from noting that it was all women doing some sort of yoga type thing and that wasn't what he was here for.

He'd run for about fifteen minutes, and was already breathing heavy, wishing that he had thought to bring something to play some music over. The only thing he still had in his possession was an old disc man that tended to skip when it was jostled. If he intended to make this a regular thing, then he knew that investing in something smaller and probably digital would be a wise idea.

He was still no closer to assuring himself and calming over his misgivings about things with Buffy. He had tried to assure himself that it wasn't he or anything he had done that had caused her later standoffishness. Brady had been fairly sure that it was other things bugging the girl. But after Sam had left the dining hall, he'd gone over in his mind, if there was anything he had said or done that could have been misconstrued. He finally had to figure that it was a possibility. He obviously didn't know enough about Buffy's life and what had happened with her that might make her shy away from certain things.

He was staring hard, looking beyond the glass partition of the walled off room, not really seeing anything. At first. To start, he had just been wondering if the music he was hearing was bleeding over from someone else's device, but there was no one close enough to him for that. Then he had wondered about it coming from another part of the building. And then he had been able to pinpoint the slow build of music accompanying the class in the other room.

He had watched with interest as the class had progressed through simple routines, gradually building it up. The clothes had ranged from brightly spandexed workout outfits to loose fitting shorts and tight tees. Here and there, some had even invested in actual yoga tanks and full pants. Sam did note that those outfits were just as revealing in the own way as the spandex Lycra types, but had the advantage of not blinding anyone else with their garish colors.

It took him a long time before he realized that the body clad in a soft gray outfit with purple accents was someone he actually knew. And then he was blushing hotly all over when the blond girl turned and he instantly recognized the serene face of Buffy Summers. Her body was poised, balanced perfectly, like it had been Friday evening. Her arms stretched out as her main body lowered into a low balanced pose that tested her center of gravity. But she held it as naturally as if she were standing still.

'Amazing you didn't recognize her body first,' an inner voice that sounded amazingly like his elder brother tittered in his endorphin fueled brain. 'You stare at her ass and legs often enough.'

The blush he was already suffused with, as he realized that this was true, deepened even more. Although that could have been because Buffy was now straightening up her body, going from stretching, reaching outwards, to moving upwards, her body a straight line as her hands, gently pressed together, reaching for the sky. The curves of her body became more delineated as she did so and Sam was at just the right angle to see how her softly rounded breasts arched forward, pressing against what was surely the nice soft cotton of her tank top.

He faltered slightly on the treadmill, his breath coming in heavier gasps than they should have and Sam quickly tore his eyes from her figure, embarrassed over his behavior. Buffy, he was sure, had not come here to be ogled by males. Even if they were friends.

Just friends. He reminded himself harshly. And again, if he hadn't known better, he would have sworn that Dean was right next to him.

Yeah right! Ever hear of the term 'friends with benefits'?

Sam gulped as he tried to regulate his breathing. Never in his life, had he been so attracted to a woman. Yes, there had been girls that he had been interested in. That had lasted until he had talked to them and had not been able to find common ground with them, shy as he had been. It wasn't a matter of pretty or not. If he hadn't been able to make a connection on a different level, the physical didn't matter to him. And yes, there had been actresses and singers often in the public eye that he could have fantasized over, like his brother often had, when no other female had been available. But that just hadn't been his style.

He couldn't help it when, despite his admonitions to himself that he focus on what he was doing, his eyes strayed to her. And so it was that he saw the class move into a bent over position and though he couldn't hear it, his groan of frustration was echoed in more than one place throughout the gym. Buffy, her feet placed flat on the ground, had placed her hands several feet ahead, her appendages seeming quite close together. She was in a position that was getting close to an inherently sexual one and Sam wished that either everyone else in this place would just disappear, or he and Buffy...

The thought disappeared as he watched, with sudden amusement, that while the rest of the class had started lowering themselves, Buffy had instead kicked off, bringing herself to a hand stand. He grinned as he heard the instructor's voice, muted through the glass partioning walls, obviously trying to correct her, but Buffy, even upside down, had a look of contentment on her face, so soft and peaceful. It was... beautiful.

But as she held the pose for longer and longer, the beauty wore off slightly and awe began to replace it. Sam knew that he could try a hand stand if he had to. But balancing for that long... and with her hands in that position? It seemed near impossible. And then more gasps from around the room, as all working out seemed to have come to a grinding halt as more people noticed Buffy's feat of strength and balance.

Sam was about ready to give up on his treadmill when suddenly Buffy's right hand came up off the ground and her body shifted only minimally to accommodate it. The treadmill was definitely a lost cause as his footing faltered and it was only adrenaline and panic that kept him from crashing to the ground. Falling backwards and landing hard from the four inch drop off the back end, Sam checked himself and then glanced up again.

She was still... She was amazing!

And then it all came crashing down as someone shrieked some encouragement to her and Buffy, her eyes popping open in startlement, came down hard. Sam winced as she landed on her shoulder and then he could see her no longer, as the women in her class scrambled around her, the teacher pushing her way through. But people eased back after a moment and Buffy popped up, easily stretching out the shoulder she had landed on. With his height, he could just make out the top of her head and face. And while she was flushed and flustered looking, Sam knew it could be just the workout, but he had the sense that she was shying away from all the attention she was suddenly receiving. And when she beat a hasty retreat from the room and the other women, he knew he was right.

Which also meant that he wouldn't be able to chase after her right this moment. No matter how much inner Dean or his own libido might be urging him to that very thing. With a muttered curse under his breath, Sam watched her leave the room, and turn away, heading for the changing rooms.

At least though, he tried to reassure himself, he knew now that she was back. And the chances of seeing her again sooner rather than later had just increased exponentially.

Chapter Eight- Falling Away