Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smartwinchester) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
asgardmeridiem2012-02-12 11:51 pm
smartwinchester) wrote in asgardmeridiem2012-02-12 11:51 pm
Entry tags:
[closed]
Who: Sam Winchester [smartwinchester] and Buffy Summers [called]
What: Dean told Sam to go for it. So Sam is going for it. By probably sucking at life. Because that's what Sam does professionally.
When: Day 35.
Where: The House of Odin.
Rating: PG. Probably. Who knows.
Sam had the good trust in his Odin housemates to not touch any of the shit that was cooking in the kitchen area, because he would skin them alive if they did anything to ruin it. Not that they would -- the house of Odin had a general respect for one another to leave their shit alone and to not touch it if it was labeled 'don't touch this'.
Which was what Sam did to the oven when he left to go figure out what the hell to do about his room.
It had taken some doing to convince Castiel that he could be left alone for two or three hours, but he had managed to get him out of the house with some money and a promise to meet up with him later. That had been the easy part -- it was the rest of the disaster that had to be reckoned with, and so, at seven-forty-five, Sam Winchester began to take down the near month of work from his walls to stack it neatly into piles.
Soon, the room began to look less like the den of a few crazy hunters and more like the well-ordered chaos of an individual that liked to collect information. He could do nothing about the books that were carefully organized on the desk, nor the piles upon piles of paper he had managed to put into folders and stack near his bed, but at least the walls were clear of imaginary patterns and sigils that looked like they were drawn in blood. The bed was made, the clothes were put away, and everything looked moderately normal.
Except for the guns in the closet. He couldn't really do anything about that.
But he had done enough, so at seven-fifty-nine, he checked on his food quickly, before he moved toward the door of Odin to wait outside for Buffy to arrive.
smartwinchester] and Buffy Summers [called]What: Dean told Sam to go for it. So Sam is going for it. By probably sucking at life. Because that's what Sam does professionally.
When: Day 35.
Where: The House of Odin.
Rating: PG. Probably. Who knows.
Sam had the good trust in his Odin housemates to not touch any of the shit that was cooking in the kitchen area, because he would skin them alive if they did anything to ruin it. Not that they would -- the house of Odin had a general respect for one another to leave their shit alone and to not touch it if it was labeled 'don't touch this'.
Which was what Sam did to the oven when he left to go figure out what the hell to do about his room.
It had taken some doing to convince Castiel that he could be left alone for two or three hours, but he had managed to get him out of the house with some money and a promise to meet up with him later. That had been the easy part -- it was the rest of the disaster that had to be reckoned with, and so, at seven-forty-five, Sam Winchester began to take down the near month of work from his walls to stack it neatly into piles.
Soon, the room began to look less like the den of a few crazy hunters and more like the well-ordered chaos of an individual that liked to collect information. He could do nothing about the books that were carefully organized on the desk, nor the piles upon piles of paper he had managed to put into folders and stack near his bed, but at least the walls were clear of imaginary patterns and sigils that looked like they were drawn in blood. The bed was made, the clothes were put away, and everything looked moderately normal.
Except for the guns in the closet. He couldn't really do anything about that.
But he had done enough, so at seven-fifty-nine, he checked on his food quickly, before he moved toward the door of Odin to wait outside for Buffy to arrive.
no subject
Nerves, nerves, and more nerves. After the last time they were alone in a food situation together, and that outcome? She wasn't exactly feeling super comfy cozy about this. He initiated it, so that was something, but she still didn't know what to expect. Besides, it was complicated. Very much so. There was Sam... Who had pretty much told her that it wasn't gonna happen. Then there was Dean, who she empathized with on just about every level. Older sibling level, fighting level, warrior level, duty level, personal level.
But Sam --- something about him just... drew her in. Like a moth to flame. And she wanted to do something for him. To help him, somehow. And as much as she enjoyed spending time with Dean, there was just this inherent need that she felt to be close to Sam, to be able to become someone to help ground him...
What? Complicated, remember?
Situations be what they may, she was very focused on making sure she was date-ready from head-to-toe. Hair, makeup, clothing, every inch had to be as pretty as she could be. It'd been so long since she'd been on a first date. God, since -- Spike's awkwardness, technically, but before that? Riley. It'd been well over a year.
There those nerves were again.
She assessed herself in the mirror one last time before taking a deep breath, refusing to psyche herself out, and heading out the door. It's just Sam. They've fought a dragon together. It couldn't be bad. This would be a good thing. Right? It had to be a good thing. It was dinner. Tasty, boy-involving dinner.
She walked up to Odin House casually; after Dawn showed up, after knowing Sam, her presence here became fairly regular. It didn't feel weird anymore, at least. She did, however, still have the decency and the sense of it not being her home to knock instead of just marching right in. And then there was the waiting. Waiting for an answer, waiting for Sam to see her, waiting for a possible reaction or lack thereof to aforementioned seeing... Waiting to find out what would happen as the evening progressed...
Nerves.
no subject
But he at least accompanied the door opening almost instantaneously with a smile. And the tiniest amount of staring, because that was just what boys did when they saw a pretty girl all dressed up for them.
-- it was a nice feeling.
"Hey," Sam greeted, stepping aside to let her in quickly. "Sorry, uh -- don't mind any of the... smoke or -- and be careful of ice spots," he added, a little sheepishly. "My housemates aren't really in control of their powers and like to test them out without any regard to company."
no subject
"Hey yourself," she returned, her eyebrows slowly raising as he began to explain all the possible dangers of entering Odin. People with fire magic just shouldn't have been allowed to... Well. Have fire magic.
"I'm from Sunnydale. Smoke and ice spots? Nothin' compared to annual Apocalypses. I think I can handle it," she said, a warmth and humor in her voice that would be so painfully obvious even Cas could've spotted it.
no subject
Put a bunch of brilliant people together and curiosity kills the cat, as the saying goes.
"Here, this way," Sam said after a moment or two to contemplate that, gesturing for her to follow him to the dining area.
no subject
Buffy thought he was adorable, seeming a little flustered, clearly worrying about the presentation of everything. He didn't even need to worry. This was dinner. It was Sam, and it was Buffy, and it was dinner and it would be great if she had to kill every person on the face of the earth to do it.
Maybe that would be going a little too far, but... The things a girl would do for a good guy.
She followed after him happily, keeping relatively close. Despite the fire and ice elements that happened in Odin house, things seemed relatively tranquil. Must be all that braininess, she figured. "So," she started, a little awkwardly and kind of sudden. But, her curiosity got the best of her. Not much she could do to stave it off. "What put the whole dinner idea into your head?"
no subject
Score.
"Dean told me to stop being a bitch," Sam said after a long serious moment of contemplation. That pretty much summed it up. "That and -- I really did want to do this, I just needed a... uh, kick in the ass, I think."
no subject
"I'll have to send him a fruit basket," she teased. But the jesting lasted only a moment before that smirk faded back into a genuine smile again. "I'm glad. I mean it. I promise I'll make taking the chance worthwhile," she said.
A part of her believed it, at least. The cynicism could just... take a back seat, dammit.
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Dean, after all, was the one with the girls.
no subject
Buffy leaned over nosily, trying to get all up in his business, and also the oven's. But not in a Sylvia Plath way. "Maybe I'll send him like... I dunno. Pizza, instead. Then he'll really never figure it out." She couldn't stop smiling. Talking like this with him, about playing a joke on his brother... It felt so normal.
She liked normal.
no subject
Sam paused for a moment to carefully contemplate how cool it would be to finish that statement with 'clowns everywhere'.
He decided against sharing that piece of information.
" -- just... really grotesque animatronic characters everywhere, I'd rather take on demons than step foot in that place again," Sam muttered to himself as he reached for a pot holder, "so, yeah. Definite lady killer. He sacrificed me to the gods of bad parenting at an early age for some phone numbers."