First Date
Sam had his misgivings about this idea. On the other hand, he could hear his brother now, you faced down demons and, and ghosts and things, and you're worried about a date with a girl? and mostly it was that voice in his mind that got him on the date in the first place. Besides, what was there to be afraid of?

Well, awkward silences, for one. Jess and Janet were in the same orientation class, he and Mark had hit it off because they were in the same dorms, but neither of them knew each other. It had all been set up by three mutual friends, none of whom were going to be there tonight if this thing went wrong. Staying out of the way, Sam reflected, was probably best. He would have, too, if he could.

It wasn't that Janet wasn't a nice girl, he rapidly discovered. It was just that they had no interests in common whatsoever.

"I shouldn't eat that," she sighed, pushing the fries away from her plate. "Those things are deep fried in pork fat..."

They weren't. At least, he didn't think they were anymore, but he didn't push the point and dutifully took them instead. This relationship wasn't going to last, he knew that now. He wasn't looking for a girl whose fries he would always have to eat, sad and strange as it sounded even in his own mind. Dean would have understood. But Dean was hundreds of miles away. Sam looked down at the table as his chest clenched tight, making it hard to breathe for a second. He missed his big brother.

"Excuse me..." Jess reached over and snagged a couple of the fries, popping them into her mouth. He tried out a smile that seemed real by her reaction, which was to smile back.

"You can have the rest of them if you want," he offered, pushing them her way.

She pushed them back. "Why don't we split them," and as if realizing what they were saying even if they were only talking about fries, they both looked over. Mark seemed to have gone to the bathroom. Janet was looking uncomfortable on the other side of the table. They were only talking about fries. They were talking about fries like two people on a date, and they weren't supposed to be the ones on the date. If this was indicative of the whole night, maybe Sam should have called it an early night. In fact...

After the bill came, Sam excused himself. It was nice, he was having a great time, but he needed to go home and call his folks, tell them he was okay. His Dad worried he was going to get into trouble. It was the lamest excuse he had come up with so far, but it sounded natural as it rolled right out of his mouth. Then again, he'd had a lot of practice at sounding natural when lying.

Jess must have followed him back because she turned up at the door to his dorm room, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry if I made you feel awkward back there, I didn't mean..."

"That's okay," he stopped her. "It's okay. Really. I mean, it was already awkward before the fries."

"Hmm." She tilted her head at him. She wasn't like most of the blondes he'd met on campus and the instant he thought that he hated himself for thinking it, but she wasn't. She had real confidence. She wore herself like she was herself, and wasn't trying to be someone. "I think I know what would make things less awkward."

Wryly: "Not having Mark and Janet on the next date?"

"Exactly."

Sam stared.

Second Date
He asked her out the second time because she had already asked him out, and he figured it was time to man up and get a little bit ahead in the game. Assuming it was a game. He had never exactly done the dating thing before and the best Dean had taught him how to manage was a two-night stand. Actually, he was pretty sure that was the best Dean had ever done.

Their second date was dinner and a movie. Specifically, dinner on campus where he'd used his skills to bribe and cajole the cafeteria staff into giving them a slightly special meal and a movie that the sci-fi club was showing during their weekend run on the classics, then name of which was currently escaping him. The important thing was that Blade Runner wasn't horribly geeky, wasn't likely to scare her off and, by the way she smiled when he told her what movie they'd be seeing, would win him a lot of points.

He did do some work of his own, grabbing candles and snagging some candlesticks from one of the frat houses he was talking about pledging to mostly for the sake of not standing out too much. A white linen tablecloth from catering completed the look of an actual date.

And got them more than a few stares, but what the hell. At least a guy treating a girl to a candlelight dinner in the cafeteria was romantic.

The last time he'd gotten this many stares the looks had indicated they just found him creepy.

"This is wonderful, Sam," she told him, even if the chicken was probably the same grade they fed to farm animals and it was just cafeteria food. "Thank you."

He ducked his head a little, smiling. "Well, you're welcome." He felt so awkward.

They walked arm in arm over to the auditorium. Fall leaves were still coming down, but it didn't feel like autumn. It felt more like late summer, early spring. It felt like something else.

He wondered if that was the weather or the date.

Neither of them said anything during the movie, which was a miracle. He was so used to Dean constantly talking throughout movies, pointing out this or that, commenting on what the chick in the high heels should have done instead of running from the monster. She just watched, leaned her head on his shoulder a little towards the end. He thought she was crying as they came to the Tears in Rain speech but he wasn't sure.

Afterward neither of them seemed to want to separate, so they walked around campus. "Why do you like him?" Sam asked, as they discussed the movie, talked about the Deckard-Replicant question, tossed back and forth the philosophical and moral questions raised. "He killed people. By his own admission, he almost killed Deckard, who..."

"Who killed women and men who had done nothing wrong but be born into a slave race," she pointed out.

"They're not even a race." In point of fact he agreed, but since they were having a debate. "They're constructs. They were grown in a lab."

"But does that make them any less human? Okay, maybe human was a bad choice of words, but. They're sentient. They feel, they have feelings, thoughts. Does their origins mean they have no right to a life of their own?"

"They weren't..." Sam tried to come up with some sort of argument that didn't make him sound like a tyrannical ass. "They weren't made to have free will. They weren't raised to it, you saw how they acted, they're not meant to be in the outside world at all. If ... if doing the will of the their master is what makes them happy, why shouldn't they do it?"

"Because it should be their choice. The way they are, they don't know any other way, and they don't have a choice. That choice was taken from them." She sounded so passionate, even if it was only a movie. He stopped in his tracks just to look at her. How could she be so passionate about just the idea of freedom, like this, it wasn't even like they were talking about real people. "What?" He'd been staring.

"Nothing." He grinned. "Just... nothing."

Third Date
He took her out to dinner to celebrate something or other. Literally to celebrate something or other, he couldn't think of a reason and admitted it freely. He also was celebrating the fact that he had a little bit of money, which Dean had sent up after he'd badgered news of Sam's girlfriend out of him on their last phone call. He didn't know where Dean had gotten the money from, and he didn't want to know. It was enough to keep him from thinking about the fact that their Dad hadn't wanted to talk to him, anyway.

So, he had a bit of money, and he was taking her out to Dominico's. It was a nice place, a family owned Italian restaurant that Sam also privately suspected was family owned, if you got the drift. But they made good food. Good cannelloni, good spaghetti.

"Oh, no," she laughed, pointing her fork at him as he reached towards the plate. Two small plates, one big pile of spaghetti for both of them. He was reaching for a meatball, but they'd just had a Disney movie marathon. She was a big fan of old cartoons. "Don't you dare."

"What?" he blinked his eyes, wide and innocent, look at him not up to anything. He had a great expression for playful innocence, and he used it to good advantage with everyone. Especially with her, because she saw through it and laughed anyway. "I wasn't going to do anything."

"Uh-huh." She was still pointing her fork dangerously close to his nose. "I saw you."

"I wasn't!"

"You were totally going to do that Lady and the Tramp thing. Don't deny it."

He waved his fork at her fork, catching the tines together. "Shut up and eat your spaghetti!"

She flicked a bit of tomato sauce and it landed on his cheek and they laughed, pulling their forks apart and digging in again. It really was a lot of pasta.

"All right," she admitted after poking at it some more. "Maybe I shouldn't have had that garlic bread."

"You have garlic breath?" he pretended to mis-hear, and got another fork-flick of tomato sauce at his face and a smile.

"Watch it, kiddo," she laughed. "You are not as cute as you think you are."

"Hey, I don't think I'm cute, I know I'm adorable." It was a very Dean line, but it seemed to work. A lot of Dean lines worked when you took them out of Dean and put them in the mouth of someone who wasn't trying to get into a girl's pants. She chuckled, and he wondered what she'd think of his big brother.

Sam waited until she had turned to order their dessert to snag the last meatball, though. Their server respectfully didn't roll his eyes; he figured the poor guy had seen people do it a thousand and one times already so he waited till the guy was gone, hoping she didn't turn around. Which she didn't, until his hair was almost in the spaghetti sauce. This probably worked better when you had a long dog nose.

"Sam...!"

He still had to help her eat her cannelloni, and there was a pile of spaghetti on the plate when they were done. His face was covered in spaghetti sauce, and she dipped the napkin into the water to scrub his face off, laughing. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

This time he didn't even wait till they were back before pulling her against him with an arm around her waist and kissing her.

Fourth Date
They had good seats, having hung out in the quad for an hour or two before the concert started. Not that that mattered, it was a free concert, but it was the principle of the thing. At least, that's what he told her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked him, for the umpteenth time, but he grinned and shushed her and put an arm around her shoulders. Okay, song and dance might not be his thing but it was her thing, and he wanted to spend time with her.

As it turned out he was glad he had. The show wasn't what he had expected, not by a long shot, although he wasn't sure what he had expected. She had said it was sort of like a cross between Stomp and Savion Glover, and he hadn't known what that meant but hadn't wanted to admit it. Maybe he should have asked.

"You liked it," she told him, poking him in the ribs. "Admit it."

"I deny nothing," he held up his hands, laughing, as they walked back to her dorm room. "Yeah, I liked it. I didn't know what it was going to be when I went into..." Okay, yeah. He probably shouldn't have admitted that, because now she was looking at him somewhat strangely. The look went away after a moment, followed by an embrace around his waist.

"Well. Now you know. Now we can go see them again when they come around next year, I hear they're around every year or so, every other year...." Something like that. He'd heard the same thing.

"Okay." Pause. "So, do you want to go see Riverdance next or something...?"

She laughed. "Bite your tongue. I'm not that into all the percussive arts."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I just have a thing for tall, gangly, awkward men who are more graceful than their outward appearance would lead one to believe."

He turned to look at her as they filled the doorway. "Jess..."

"What?"

Jess, you shouldn't have a thing for me, you should be running away. Jess, I've been lying to you. I'm not from Jersey, my Dad's a demon hunter, my brother's a chronic flirt who can't hold down a job or a girlfriend for more than a couple of days. I'm a loser from a family of losers.

"I'm not that gra--"

She kissed him to shut him up. She'd learned that trick pretty quickly into their relationship. Now that was a word he never had thought would apply to him. Relationship.

"You are graceful, when you don't think about it, Sam. You can do a lot of things if you'd just stop getting in your own way. Relax." She smiled. She had the most beautiful smile. Like all things were possible. "Trust me?"

He nodded. "I trust you." It was the truth.

Fifth Date
He hadn't been sure about this in the first place, but the intent was to celebrate the new pledges, and she'd pointed out that it would seem strange if he didn't go. And he should support the people he'd made it through at least most of hazing with.

Hazing. It wasn't any worse than the pranking he and Dean had done to each other, and it certainly wasn't worse than what Dad fought and what Dean probably was going to come up against while he was in college. When college hazing seemed like a relief compared to real life, his real life anyway, there was something wrong with him. He wanted to tell Jess. He really did, he knew she knew something was up but he didn't know how ...

... and this wasn't the time or the place to start. People were already getting drunk and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

He glanced over. At least Jess looked like she was having fun, talking with some of the other girls, waving at him as she caught him staring again. He smiled back, but it felt forced, and he could tell she noticed by the slight lift to her eyebrows and the question in her eyes. Did he want to go? No, not yet, she was having fun. Talking to people. He could at least make an effort to have fun, too. There were a couple other guys there he'd met during the hazing period, he went over and talked to them. It didn't go too badly, either. He was able to keep up a normal conversation. He was starting to relax.

"... get into the punch, it's all over."

"You sure? I mean, that's a lot of..."

It was like the movies, like his lips moved in slow motion. Sam knew that word. He'd never been in many situations where it came up, but he knew that word.

He crossed the room quickly enough that two people were jostled out of the way and several others stared at him with the what are you doing, freak? kind of look. His hand closed around Jess's wrist before she could drink. "Hey. Um... I changed my mind. Can we get out of here?" Sam barely waited for her nod before he tugged her out. The punch spilled to the floor. Everyone stared.

"...Sam!" she'd been calling his name for the last several steps and he hadn't heard. He stopped, embarrassed, but he did let go of her hand before anything else. He'd probably scared her with that little display. God knows he'd scared himself. She probably wouldn't want to go anywhere, anymore, with a guy who grabbed her hard enough to leave bruises. Oh god, had he left bruises. "Sam!" She was talking to him again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. Pushed his hand through his hair. "Yeah. Jess... I'm sorry. About that, back in there. I didn't..."

"Sam..." She put her hands on his shoulders. "It's okay. Really, I'm fine."

"I don't... how much of that punch did you have to drink?"

Jess blinked. "Not much, maybe half a glass, why?"

Another deep breath. "Because they spiked it. I overheard a couple of the guys talking. They spiked it with something, rohypnol, one of the roofie drugs. I don't think it's enough to actually do anything to everyone but if people have a lot of that ..."

Her eyes widened. "We'd better get to security, that... how could they do that?"

He could have explained it to her. How they could do that, how people could be sick enough to do that. He'd heard stories. Seen some of the things that people did to each other with supernatural powers, even some of the ghosts that were running around with all that twisted up emotion inside them. People were crazy. But she couldn't know that. She didn't need to know that. And they had to tell security what they'd seen. She started the report, he added in his bit about what he'd heard. There'd be a report in the newspaper tomorrow, but maybe it wouldn't go much further than that. He really didn't want his Dad reading about him on the national news for breaking open a circle of corruption and rape in one of the most prestigious colleges in the country.

Dad already was pissed enough at him for abandoning the family to go hide his head in the sand for four years. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Sam..." Her hand ran along his upper arm. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. He was breathing a little easier, at least, since security had been told. "Yeah."

"It's just... the way you moved, back there. I've never seen anyone move like that before. And, the knife..."

Sam blinked. He felt the temperature in the air drop ten degrees. He was sure he was staring, mouth open.

"What knife?"

All-Nighter
Somehow he'd managed to convince her that his family was hunters, that they spent a lot of time in the wilderness, that that was how he'd managed to react like a Special Forces soldier. Somehow, life continued on as usual. The ringleaders were arrested, their parents kept the story out of the papers and pled down. They were off campus. That was all he cared about.

Right now he had a calculus mid-term to study for, and a girlfriend (he still had a girlfriend!) to help him study for it. Although help was kind of an awkward term. She was quizzing him, and for every right answer he got a reward, and the rewards were starting to linger a little longer than was maybe conducive to studying. "I'm ..." Mm. Jess. "...still not sure I'm all clear on these functions..."

"You seem to have them pretty well down to me," she pointed out. "You only made two mistakes on the exercises. You're allowed to do the work long-hand if you need to, that's why he gives you scratch paper. You'll be fine, Sam. Trust me."

"All right..." he laughed, and let her steal another kiss. That was the funny thing, too, he did trust her. She knew him, she was getting to know him better than he'd ever imagined anyone could, with as much as he lied to people. She didn't ask about the things he wasn't willing to talk about, and yet she was still able to accomodate for it. Compensate for it. She wasn't scared off by the fact that he sometimes answered the door with a K-Bar behind his back. She didn't ask why he kept most of his money in cash, tucked away in easy to grab hidden places. Or why he was so easy with the fake IDs, or how he knew some of the things he knew. She just rolled with it. Gently nudging him back when he started to stray, keeping him steered down the path.

He had no idea how she did it, but he was grateful. More grateful than he could ever explain to her. She was patient, and she was kind, and she was good to him. Good for him.

"You know..." she murmured against his lips, stealing another kiss he was happy to give. "I don't actually have class till eleven tomorrow..."

They'd toyed with the idea before but this was the first time she'd ever offered to spend the night. At least, that's what he thought she was doing. "Are you saying..."

"You've been studying for five hours, don't you think it's time to take a break?" she laughed.

He looked up at the clock. Two thirty in the morning. God, he really had been up late. And he'd kept her up late. "Oh, man, I'm sorry about..."

Jess covered his mouth with her hand and gave him the shut up, Sam look. Sam shut up. "Let's go to bed, and you can apologize to me there, okay?" Was it really that simple? Looking at her, determined smile and happy eyes, maybe it was. Let's go to bed. It wasn't the kind of thing Dean would have said, or the kind of invitation he would have gotten, for that matter. But it was homey, and kind of quiet, and calm, and it was just what Sam needed, he thought.

"Okay," he smiled shyly back. "Yeah."

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