Fiction- Approaching Normal- Chapter Nine

Title: Approaching Normal

Chapter Title: Ice Cream Social

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 Nine

Ice Cream Social

Sam had watched the unfolding scene before him and wisely, waited. He'd found the free weights lining the wall and had begun working on his upper body strength, since before his mess up on the treadmill, he had actually managed to get a pretty decent run in. It didn't hinder the desire to do so, that the weights were where he could watch the comings and goings of people into the change rooms, he briefly admitted to himself. But he realized quickly several things. The first was that even though he was in pretty good shape still, he hadn't kept up the necessary repertoire to keep his muscles in the peak shape they'd been in before.

He knew that, it was obvious. Muscles unused were muscles lost and it had to be a constant progression, not half hearted training here and there. The immediate burn as he picked up the weights and carefully curled his arms back and forth was testament to that. It meant, in Sam's mind, that he wasn't going to be able to pick up where he had left off. Some thought and modification to what he had used to be able to do was in order. But still, a small run through was beneficial.

Especially since he could keep an eye out for Buffy, when she emerged from the women's changing room. Thoughts and plans ran through his mind. Ways to get her attention, quietly, politely, of course. He wasn't the type to yell her name and bring the attention of the entire room to bear upon them. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized again that like he had thought earlier, she hadn't come here to be hit upon, just like he hadn't. Anonymity was anyone's right, when they weren't using that to plan or execute a crime. Ambushing her like that wasn't cool and as much as he wished he could, he liked Buffy too much to try that desperate sneak attack. At this juncture anyway.

And it seemed he was to be doomed to disappointment when he put the weights away after wiping them down. She hadn't re-emerged as yet, which could have been attributed to many factors. Perhaps her shoulder was troubling her or she was taking an extra long shower. Perhaps there was a back door out of the building that Sam hadn't noted, so that women didn't have to walk back through the main floor. Men too, he supposed, if he wanted to get politically correct about it.

With a sigh, Sam thought about the rest of the day. There was dinner that evening that he might see her. Perhaps she might find solitude in the library to work on her assignments. Or there was their shared class later in the week. All those possibilities that should be good enough for him. The sharp pang of disappointment in his stomach told him that it wasn't, but he was determined for logic to win out over the measly hormones fueling many of his thoughts. Deciding, as he made his way into the men's locker rooms, that he wasn't really looking forward to going back to his dorm room, he decided that he'd indulge in a steam before his shower.

It was only after he had changed that he saw the notice on the door that the men's room was undergoing repairs. He read the instructions and with a slightly grimacing frown, headed over to the ladies sauna. He knocked on the door before trying it, just to make sure that he wasn't intruding. The door was open and he stepped in, realizing in an instant that there was a single occupant. The ratcheting up of his heart, his breathing, his nerve endings tingling when he took in the distracted form of the object of his crush had him blushing before the door even clanged shut behind him.

By miraculous good fortunes, angel's smiled down on him as Buffy encouraged him to stay. As a gentleman he was perfectly willing to wait. And the feelings of unease about her absence, the fears of ineptitude around the female of the species, it all receded as they talked and to Sam, it was as if more than the very heat in the air had invaded his entire being, warming him pleasantly.

They talked, teased, joked and turned introspective in their turns. And every time she smiled or nodded, agreeing with something he had said, he felt the attraction and desire to spend more time with her growing. Even when she had espoused her bad traits with teasing, he found it endearing rather than annoying. At last, the words could no longer be contained and he asked her out. True, it was for coffee or something of the like, and after what seemed to be her refusal, something changed and she was smiling up at him, accepting and Sam was elated.

Which was how they had come to decide that they would each quickly shower, change and meet at the front doors.

Eying the clock above the front desk from his position just to the side of the front door, Sam pushed the still damp mop of hair from his eyes. He knew that she might take a little longer than he had. As eager as he was for even this initial date of just coffee, he really had rushed through his routine. Dressed in the loose jeans, dark blue t-shirt and a lighter button up, left loose and untucked, with the sleeves rolled part way up his forearms, he hoped he passed muster. He was hoping to appear casual, because he was still unsure as to the reception of how Buffy felt about it all. Dating... with Sam...

He still could not recall from their first class, what she had said about friends or dating, if anything at all. And he didn't want to rush her. It was one of the few times that he regretted not having more experience with girls, or women. He could swear that she had been flirting with him. And his talk with Brady had helped him understand her more. But that was an outsider's view. One that cam from someone that admitted he wasn't quite in her inner circle. Sam was seriously debating tucking his shirt in and finding some water to slick his hair back with. But then wondered if that would look like he was trying too hard.

Fifteen minutes more from his arrival at the main desk had elapsed before he finally caught sight of her. And though she had looked delectable in her yoga outfit and he fought a blush as he tried to avoid thinking about her in just a towel, sweat gleaming on her sun bronzed skin in the sauna, at the moment she looked like the perfect epitome of a California girl. And she was so simply dressed, with a lavender spaghetti strapped top and jean skirt with a little flare around the knees. Her hair was held back with a little kerchief almost the same color as her top and she was wearing sandals. At that point, Sam was glad he had stayed casual.

She was adjusting the strap on her messenger bag as she came around the corner and passed the front desk. Luckily she looked up or she might have plowed into several people making their way to the back. Sam's heart picked up when her gaze went up and then darted around before lighting on him and she hurried her steps just a little as she made her way to him.

“Hey there,” she greeted, sounding slightly breathless. “Sorry I took so long. Figured you might get bored waiting.”

“Oh, not at all,” Sam assured her quickly and pushed back the bangs that were threatening his eyesight once more. “I don't bother drying my hair after a shower,” he informed her and wanted to smack himself with the inanity of it, realizing that the segue wasn't well planned. “Because it tends to fall in my eyes more,” he explained. Her eyebrows were rising and she looked amused. “So,” he continued, slightly flustered, “that cuts time off of getting ready, hence why I was willing to wait, since I realize not everyone else has hair like mine.”

“Or the rambly explanation of said hair care routine,” Buffy teased and as if of one accord, Sam reached for the door just as Buffy started moving towards it. “But I know a few good ramblers. Sometimes the ramble is as much fun or even more fun than the drunken spiel.”

“Well, since most drunken spiels I've been subject to end up with insults, vomiting or snoring, sometimes all three,” Sam chuckled, “I think I'll stick with rambling.”

“Good choice,” Buffy nodded importantly as they stepped out into the warm afternoon sun. She paused momentarily to pull some sunglasses from her bag.

“Speaking of choices,” Sam added quickly as he waited for her, “I asked and there's a coffee shop down the street.”

“Uh huh,” Buffy nodded and then waited.

“Or,” Sam grinned, hoping that his instinct on this paid off, “the Baskin Robbins a block over has been introducing it's fall flavors and selling off the last of it's summer ice cream stock. Might be the last chance...” he trailed off.

“Oooh, meanie,” Buffy groaned theatrically. “Tempting me with... oh, ice cream wins!”

“Ice cream it is then,” Sam announced with a laugh. “It's okay though. We did just go through grueling work outs. And it is a Monday.”

“Very true,” Buffy nodded. “And my yoga instructor did tell me to ice my shoulder.”

“Somehow I don't think that's what she meant,” Sam shook his head, still grinning widely. Buffy shrugged both shoulders and he noted that she didn't seem to be wincing with pain at the movement. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he had thought, even if she had fallen on it.

“Ice... ice cream,” Buffy waved her hand in the air. “Fuels my body so my muscles can heal. I'd say it's just the right kind of medicine.” She wrinkled her nose, glancing up at him. “Have we rationalized enough?”

“Just enough,” Sam nodded importantly, as if they'd made a world class decision. “Besides,” he added, “should we feel guilty, we can always order off the diet menu.”

“Uh, that's like ordering decaf when what you really want is a mocha latte with a tower of whipped cream,” she protested. Sam, still towering over her, smiled as she shook her head in protest and the scent of a vanilla based shampoo or perfume drifted to his nose.

Their teasing banter continued as they made their way to the ice cream shop. There was a small line and as they waited, they debated the flavors that were available in the store. For Sam, ice cream had always been a once in a while treat with their family. When he divulged that little secret, Buffy had seemed shocked. But then, living in the heat of California all her life, it was a perennial favorite. And apparently something of a necessity after her parents' divorce. When the low fat frozen yogurt came out, and became incredibly popular, that joined the repertoire in her mother's home. She was just describing to Sam how she and her sister had a calculated system of trying each and every flavor in the stores when they were younger, when their turn at the counter came.

“Hi, welcome to Baskin Robbins,” their server, a well groomed young man in the pink, blue and white uniform asked from behind the glass partition of the frozen section, greeted. “How may I serve you today?”

Buffy deliberated for only a moment before asking about several of the flavors. Sam listened with half an ear, thinking about his own choice, until finally, she decided upon the Love Potion 31. He ducked his head to hide the smirk on his face. It seemed like she might be saying something with her choice and it cemented his own decision.

“And you sir?” the young man turned to Sam after presenting Buffy with a small cone of the white chocolate and raspberry mixture.

“I'll take a double scoop of the Wild 'n Reckless, please,” he ordered and then smirked down at Buffy. Her answering grin as they indulged themselves was worth the potentially neon tongue he'd have for the rest of the day.

Sam, commenting on some of the different flavors that they had, engaging Buffy with encouraging her to describe some of her other favored flavors, managed to edge himself down the line a little. The server had produced Buffy's cone first and then Sam's, but he was closer to the register and had it paid for while Buffy was still trying to manage digging through her bag one handed without dropping her cone.

“My treat,” he reminded her when she looked up. She looked as if she were about to argue, but then simply smiled.

“Thank you Sam.”

“So, do you want to grab a table or...” he offered.

“Nnnh,” Buffy deliberated, glancing around the enclosed shop as they moved out of the way of the next customers. “Why don't we head to the park down the street? Lot's of benches and picnic tables there.”

“I wouldn't know,” Sam admitted easily as they headed to the door, stopping only to grab some extra napkins. “But it sounds good. Have you been out to the lake at all?” He knew from what Brady had told him, that she had been to a party down there the year before. A low keyed affair, in which she sat off mostly by herself, watching the others and the water alternately. Sounded like something he would do himself in that situation.

“I have,” Buffy nodded. “Not really big on the nightlife down there though. Like I said before, Buffy and beer, non mixy things. And being such, I'm thinking anything alcoholic is of the no good.”

“Gotcha,” Sam nodded as he followed her lead, trying to ignore her darting pink tongue that was scooping up small laps of ice cream. He tried his own, finding it tasty, despite the wild colors. “Do you go during the day often then?”

“Not to the lake so much,” Buffy nodded minutely. “But I've enjoyed the beach whenever I get the chance. I felt bad because I missed my friend's back to school beach barbecue, but then Wills told me about this huge freak storm that came up suddenly.” She chuckled and tilted her head towards him. “They got drenched.”

“Sounds like it was eventful,” he agreed with a chuckle himself. He knew that they were drawing close to the park by the noises of children shouting. “Do you come down here often?” Before she could reply, he added quickly, “because I always liked being able to find someplace quiet, for example, away from my brother, to study or read.”

“I do,” she told him. “Though I don't study down here. Too many kids and Frisbees. And dogs and stuff. But I do like to walk through later, after the kids all seem to have gone to bed. It's pretty, soothing in a sort of way.”

So she liked the beach during the day, nature walks at night, Sam decided with a grin. He could work with that. Especially, he realized, since she had given him an in with accepting ice cream. And checking his cone quickly, noticed that he'd better put in a little more work if he didn't want it melting all over his hand. They continued in silence, skirting around the playground equipment until they were a good distance away from the shrieks that seemed capable of shattering an eardrum up close. Buffy swept her messenger bag over her head and carefully over the cone still in her hand before taking a seat. Sam was able to simply set his duffel on the ground next to the bench before following after her.

“So aside from homework,” Buffy began, “anything interesting happen around here while I was gone?”

Sam brightened at her question, even though really, there was nothing to tell. It was just a glimmer of happiness that she had asked. “Not really,” he admitted on a swallow. “Of course, I wasn't out and about. I did get together for dinner at the cafeteria with some friends from another class. Maybe you know some of them.”

“Oh? Like?” she asked, perking up slightly. Sam listed off some of the names he remembered, for some reason though he was hesitant to mention Brady. He wasn't sure what to think because of the conversation they had had and insecurity rearing it's head about them being close friends. Perhaps. But Buffy kept shaking her head, a slight frown on her face and finally pulled out the last name. “What about Brady Craessar?”

“Nu-!” she began and then frowned. “Yeah, sounds familiar. Maybe I met him at a party?” she didn't sound so sure and Sam breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Sorry,” she grinned up at him, “just not that great with names. Especially the Greek and Latin ones.”

“You know people with Latin names?” Sam laughed. That was a new twist, but she was shaking her head.

“No, no, from high school,” she sighed. “We'd get bored after school and look through the librarian's stash. He had all sorts of interesting books. Of course, the school board didn't always think so.”

“Oh right,” Sam nodded, grinning himself silly. “Your friend Xander, right?” he recalled having heard something to do with that male and books.

“Unh huh,” Buffy nodded, sounding slightly dour. “I think he's doing better now, what with the full time girlfriend that's just slightly crazy enough to keep him distracted.”

“Uh oh, crazy how?” he wondered. Strange, but his internal senses didn't go off, he realized belatedly. Had anyone else said something like that and before, he'd be full of suspicions. Buffy shrugged and then laughed over something she must have been thinking of.

“Her name is Anya and she worships at the altar of bluntness,” Buffy told him dryly. He blinked slowly at her and then shook his head. “Not seriously,” she added suddenly. “Like with the worship and the slaughtering of innocent bunnies, though maybe with her fear...” Sam was trying to keep up and wasn't, which Buffy seemed to realize in an instant.

“Sorry,” she grinned and straightened slightly, like she was being serious now. “I mean, when I say blunt, I mean brutally blunt. I blurt things out occasionally, but it happens. Anya? Completely different story. There is absolutely no filter on her mouth. She loves Xander, money and regaling us with stories of all the men she's-!” she stopped short, her hand coming up to her mouth, looking a little shocked at herself before she gulped and then grinned. “There's that blurting thing again.”

“No, it's okay,” Sam hastened to reassure her. “Stories of men...” he prompted and she rolled her eyes, busying herself with her ice cream cone a moment.

“Okay, not to carry tales out of school,” she admitted, “but there have been... a lot of not good relationships in Anya's past. And she was... very creative in punishing those guys that she thought were in the wrong.”

Sam nodded slowly again. “Is she one of those types that keys cars, makes horrible prank calls, or makes a guy's life hell if he crosses her?” he wondered with a wince. He had always worried that his brother would fall in with a girl like that if they ended up staying in a town for more than a few weeks at a time. Lord knew, Dean had come too close on several occasions.

“Pretty much,” Buffy nodded. “I kind of wondered if that's why Xander never broke up with her. But... then again, they never really started dating.” She chuckled again. “Neither one of them had a date for prom, so they went together. She left town after for a while, came back and decided that she liked the way they worked together and they've been together since.”

“So obviously something is right with them,” Sam mused. Buffy shrugged one shoulder.

“Better than my high school relationships worked out,” she expressed and then smirked. “Actually, Faith, my jilted friend, before we were really friends? She had my back on one. There was this guy, Scott Hope. I thought he was an absolute sweetheart. Turns out he was a bit of a jerk. I thought he was going to ask me to senior homecoming, but he dumped me right before and took another girl. Another old friend, Cordelia and I were riding together in a limo that our friends had arranged for us, since we were both candidates for homecoming queen. Limo broke down, of course, so I didn't see it all go down. Well, Faith told me later that she walked up to where Scott was dancing with his date, got right between them and told him point blank that the results from the doctor were back and that he needed to keep using the ointment and everything would be fine.”

“Oh no, she didn't!” he couldn't help laughing, this time able to keep up with the rambling additions to the main story. Buffy nodded, even as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin, her eyes shining with amusement as well.

“Guess she dropped him like a hot poker,” she concurred. “Faith doesn't have much of a filter either and I-!” she stopped abruptly was staring off in the distance for a moment, until Sam followed her gaze. But he couldn't see anything that he thought might be a cause for concern and turned back to her.

“Buffy?” he asked gently and watched as she blinked suddenly.

“You know, I just realized that like ninety percent of my friends in high school were really, really blunt, sarcastic or rebels, or even all three,” she told him with a bemused look on her face. Sam, relieved that it had just been a sudden bout of realization and not worry over her time with him, relaxed.

“And where do you fit in?” he wondered aloud, teasingly.

“Oh, I'm a rebel,” she nodded solemnly. “Even got the jacket to prove it.”

“I'll bet you do,” Sam murmured. And then she turned the tables on him, wondering what kind of stereotype Sam was precisely during his high school years. He was almost hesitant to tell her, the bookish, nerdish, loner. But not by his choice.

But it was almost as if she had some inner sense in that she already knew and seemed to be looking for confirmation. The questions she asked were amazingly subtle for someone who was a self confessed blurter of strange thoughts or facts. Nonetheless, Sam enjoyed actually relating some more of his junior high and high school stories to her. And since his father and brother had kept him in the dark and out of hunting for as long as they were able to, most of the stories were relatable to the non-hunting portion of the world. He had to chuckle though.

“What's so funny?” Buffy asked, her grin still wide after his telling of another disastrous attempt of Dean trying to date with Sam tagging along. He'd had to or John would have rained hell down on Dean's head for leaving his brother alone.

“It's just,” Sam began, glancing off in the distance, surprising himself with the revelation. “I didn't think, until I started actually thinking about it, that I had this many stories.”

“Well,” Buffy's grin faded as she became a little more serious, hooking her elbow over op the back of the park bench they were seated on. The sunglasses that she had removed once they were seated, dangling from her fingers. “I think everybody does. But since you know all the stories, and they're about you or people close to you, they aren't stories. It's your life, you know? And they only become stories when you tell them to someone else. Someone new.”

“Yeah, that's a good way of looking at it,” Sam nodded. “And they tend to take on aspects of a tale, don't they?”

“Yes,” Buffy nodded and then chuckled. “Because that girl wasn't that whiny, was she? Because how could your brother put up with that? Especially with you tagging along? Was he that sure of getting in her pants that he... never mind,” she chuckled again. “I don't think I want to know.”

Sam grinned again. Trying to adopt a serious mien he glanced up at the sky and sighed. “I'm trying to think. Sorry, but it was years ago and I mean, maybe it was the tone of her voice or something, but I think seriously, yeah, she was that whiny.” Buffy shook her head.

“Girls like that are what gives girls like me a bad name,” she frowned and then perked up again as Sam wondered what she meant. “The 'only whiny when it really counts' types,” she explained. “You know, like when someone holds back the Christmas presents just to see someone squirm. Or when the little sister runs to Mom to win any argument under the sun.”

“Oh we couldn't do that,” Sam interjected. “With Dad, we figured out pretty quick that he'd punish the wrong doer and then the other one for tattling.”

“Something tells me that you were the tattler the majority of the time,” Buffy smirked and Sam gave her his best innocent smile.

“Now, why would you think that?” he demanded lightly.

“Well, I would tell you,” Buffy sighed, as she turned the arm that was resting on the bench to glance at her wristwatch, “but unfortunately, I have some things to do before classes tomorrow.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Sam immediately apologized, glancing at his own watch. It was getting close to half past five. “I didn't realize. Yeah, I've got a few things to do as well.”

“I did have a great time though,” Buffy assured him as they stood. She rotated her injured shoulder without lifting her arm. “And the ice cream was definitely the right course of treatment.”

“Well thank goodness for that,” Sam stated as he leaned over to reach for his duffel bag. “I'd hate to think that you were going home in worse shape than when you left.”

“It wouldn't be the first time,” Buffy offered dismissively as together, they began to walk back to the main sidewalk, across a long expanse of grass. “But, I am a little disappointed about something.”

Sam, who had relaxed to the point that his nervousness and desire to impress her in some way had begun to take a back seat to everything else, reared it's very dangerous head. With a slightly muted gulp, he asked carefully, “what was that?” The words almost stuck in his throat as he tried not to stare down at the petite woman at his side as they walked.

“We totally skipped over coffee in favor of the ice cream,” Buffy shrugged. “And don't get me wrong. Loved the ice cream. But I think we ought to have given the coffee a fair shot. What d'ya say? My treat next time?”

“You want...?” Sam began as his mind tried to process what she was saying. She wanted another date? With him?

“I know this really nice cafe,” she continued and he saw her eye squinting a little as she tried to read his reaction and he quickly smoothed his face out, giving her a brilliant smile. Her quick sigh of relief as he did so was a balm to the worries and they settled once more, keeping his stomach from roiling with the stress. “They aren't like a Starbucks that throws together everything by company formula. Is that something you'd be interested in?”

“Well, something tells me that you probably have a better idea about the coffee shops around here than I do,” Sam agreed, striving to keep his stride short and even. “So I'd be a fool not to take advantage of that expertise when offered, wouldn't I?” He hoped that she could hear the teasing in his voice and evidently she did as she shook her head and giggled.

“There's something for my eventual resume, huh?” Buffy clucked. “Add that to my amazing stint as a diner waitress when I was seventeen and look out world!”

“Wait,” Sam mockingly gasped. “You worked at a diner? Wow, I ate at a diner once. We must have so much in common!”

Buffy gaped at him for a moment. The jocularity was slightly abnormal, Sam realized, for him and then she was laughing again as they reached the cement pavement next to the park. “Please,” she finally gasped. “You haven't been in Cali that long to become that corrupt.”

“I know,” Sam nodded, ducking his head slightly, as his long dried bangs fell into his face again. But before he could do anything about it, he felt just the wisp of Buffy's tiny finger's catching the hair to push it back behind his ear. It was strange having a girl doing that, though he could clearly remember Dean doing that in an attempt at the sincere romantic guy, to a beautiful girl of course. Not to Sam because that would have been weird, even for them. But Buffy, she didn't look like she was attempting anything. The smile on her face was genuine.

“So, uh...” he cleared his throat and they resumed walking without having to gesture or ask. “You actually did work in a diner?”

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. “Which is the least painful part of a long and painful story from my past.”

“Okay,” Sam acknowledged. True, everyone had to have stories like that and just like he wasn't prepared to be sharing certain secrets, he was pretty sure that Buffy must feel the same way. “So I'll ask instead, when did you feel like getting coffee?”

“Oh, that's much easier,” Buffy nodded, seemingly grateful that he let her off the hook so easily. “I'm pretty tied up the next few days, playing catch up with some non school things, on top of the actual school things like classes and a meeting with my faculty advisor. I have Thursday night and Friday afternoon free. What's good for you?”

“Anything is fine for me, as lone as I work it around my class schedule,” Sam agreed, thrilled at the chance for even more time to spend with her.

“Well, how about we figure it out at class on Thursday?” Buffy offered and Sam found himself agreeing. Of course, he spent the rest of their walk back to Buffy's dorm room alternately wishing that time could slow down or really speed up.

That lasted until the moment they reached her dorm and she said good bye to him with a promising smile. And then it was all he could do not to beg any God he could think of to speed that time up until that moment she walked into class Thursday morning and he could see her once more.

Chapter Ten