Summary: Sam finds more than what she needs; it's what she wants.
Notes: Written for rule_number_7 with the prompts: girl!Sam/Jess "getting to know each other."
Beta: Huge thanks to wife timehasa_way for a quick turnaround this morning.
Sam meets Jessica on a Tuesday. The sun is shining, birds are chirping, puffy clouds dot the sky. But Sam’s underfed, underslept, and very unprepared for her Classic Literature class, having spent most of the night cramming for this afternoon’s Intro to Law and tomorrow’s Organic Chemistry finals.
She’s not paying much attention as she enters the building, smacking right into nearly six feet of blonde hair and wide smiles. “Whoa!” the girl laughs, pushing hands into Sam’s shoulders. “Watch where you’re going.”
Sam frowns and nods, muttering a, “Yeah, I’m sorry, excuse me,” while trying to sidestep the girl and a few of her friends, who start chuckling together.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Sam returns with a nervous smile and nod. “I’m sorry. I just … I’m sorry.”
She taps a knuckle into the front of Sam’s book, a thousand-page-plus hardcover Shakespeare text. “Good luck. I hated Big Billy.”
Sam watches for a second, then quirks a smile. “Not even the sonnets?”
Returning the smirk, she cocks her head to the side. “Not even the sonnets. I prefer something a little feminine.”
“Let me guess … Bronte? Woolf? Austen?”
Her eyes flicker down Sam’s face for a second before she looks right at her. “Austen has some strong female characters. Whip-smart and witty. Always a little real.”
Sam’s eyes course over her face and she’s so close to asking her name, but the girl looks at her watch and frowns.
“I gotta go. Got myself a final in five minutes.” She pauses then offers a wave with the flick of her fingers. “Good luck with yours.”
Sam watches her walk away, feeling breathless and grounded to the spot.
It’s that same spot, five months later, that Sam happens upon her. This time, Sam’s got books for her Torts and Contracts classes in her arms. But this time, she’s able to bypass knocking the girl over. Though when they share a quick smile, Sam turns and smiles broader. “Hey. Bronte, yeah?”
“Shakespeare,” she beams back. “Never thought I’d catch you around these parts again.”
She smiles easily, feeling a thrum in her belly. “Sam,” she says with a nod.
Her mouth quirks happily before she steps forward. “Jessica.” She taps at Sam’s books, just like before, and tips her head. “Change majors already?”
A small chuckle later and Sam says with a tiny bit of bragging in her voice, “No, I’ve been pre-law the whole time.”
“Yeah, I’d like to think so,” she returns, with a lot more bravado than she had intended to be in that statement. But Jessica seems to appreciate the slight bit of playfulness. Sam motions at the worn copy of Jane Eyre in Jessica’s hands. “How’m I not surprised?”
She laughs, and it’s sunny and light, and Sam wants to hear it again, immediately. “Yeah, yeah, Bronte and all her many levels.” Sam smiles in return, especially when Jessica goes on, “Seminar in The Gothic Novel. Dracula, Frankenstein, all the good ones.”
Sam scrubs a hand behind her ear and smiles crookedly. “Dracula ain’t that sharp.”
“Well, I liked it.” It sounds just a tad defensive, but Jessica’s smile eases the words.
“So you’re an English major.”
“What gave it away?”
Sam chuckles, feeling a little nervous that it’s gone this long, and not sure how to keep it going, especially when she has a final in two minutes. Jessica fidgets and Sam worries she senses something awkward, so Sam quickly says, “I have a final, but I’d like to finish this some other time.”
Jessica slowly smiles and hands over her phone number. It burns a hole in Sam’s pocket for the rest of the day.
Their first date is coffee and attending week nine of ten in a Short Story student reading seminar. The Tell-Tale Heart is captivating, cryptic, almost haunting, and Sam thinks briefly on her former life following John and Dean.
But when Jessica’s warm hand slips into hers, when it squeezes at the palm, those memories wash away and she smiles back.
Their second date includes playful arguing over The Fall of the House of Usher then ramps up when Sam fights for the honor of Hamlet, a son trying so hard to avenge his father’s death. And again, she thinks of John, working to do right by Mary and his children.
Her nerves run cold with the thought and she shuts down. Jessica senses it, takes her hand over the table and rubs a thumb over her knuckles.
They have their first kiss on the steps of Jessica’s apartment building. Tentative tongues but firm lips. Sam’s body runs warm when Jessica slips closer, hands holding her face, fingers dipping into her hair.
Sam wants to keep going, but her nerves get the best of her. She pulls back with a smile and catalogs Jessica’s, keeping it tucked away until the next time she sees her.
Two weeks later, Sam’s hand tentatively roams Jessica’s side, fingers tempting the edges of her bra. And when Jessica moans into her mouth and pushes into the hand, Sam squeezes and feels a thrill pass through her, wanting so much more.
Wanting everything Jessica can give her that she could never have before.
Over summer break, Jessica goes home for a few weeks, but they don’t stop talking. Sam passes her monthly budget of minutes just ten days into the separation, but she doesn’t care. Especially when Jessica laughs into the phone as she recounts a family barbeque.
Sam lets her ramble on, lets her blurt out dozens of names that Sam’s never heard before, happy to hear about the bustling family that Jessica comes from.
That night, she falls asleep with a smile planted on her face, thinking of Jessica, and her many different smiles, and her laugh, and the love she has for her family.
Sam thinks about the possibility of family, one with Jessica. It scares and excites her at the same time.
The day Jessica returns, Sam shows up with a single Gerbera daisy, blue to match Jessica’s eyes. The same ones that light up at the flower, and even more at Sam. “You’re adorable,” she nearly coos as she leads Sam into the kitchen.
As Jessica searches for a vase, Sam leans against the counter. “You look bright and sunny. All tanned up.”
She looks over her shoulder with a happy smile. “Home was bright and sunny.”
“I’m glad you had a good time.” And Sam’s surprised to find she truly means it, even if it forced them to be apart.
“I did,” Jess nods, putting the vase down and moving over to Sam. She softly smiles and slips her arms around Sam’s neck. “I’m glad to be back, too.”
Sam’s hands find their place on Jessica’s hips, pull her in close while they kiss for longer than should really happen when standing upright in the kitchen. But Jessica isn’t slowing down, and Sam doesn’t want to.
They’re on the couch, legs brushing and arms tangled, TV long forgotten when Jessica whispers, “I don’t think I want to be a teacher.”
Sam turns to see Jessica’s eyes roam the room, looking anywhere but at her. “What do you want to be?”
“Anything other than that.” She looks down to their hands, together and warm. “My mom expects me to.”
This feels familiar; Sam can feel it down to her toes. “You still like books, though, right?”
She looks up with a fond smile. “You know I do.”
“You could …” and Sam trails off, trying so hard to find the best ideas. “Could own a book shop. Be a writer.”
Jessica nods with a small frown. “I wouldn’t know how to tell my mom.”
Sam thinks back to telling John she was leaving, that she didn’t want their life, that she wanted more. He didn’t take it lightly, neither did Dean. It was by and far away the hardest thing Sam ever had to do, and she came out alive. Jessica could the same with even less scarring.
“She’s always pushed me into teaching. Always told me how good I’d be at it, like I had no other possible chance for a future.”
She pulls Jessica in tighter, kisses at her hair. “Jess, you don’t have to do what your family says. You should do your own thing.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Sam’s hand coasts over Jessica’s hair, nudges her far enough away to look at her. “I did it. Left my dad and brother to be here.”
She blinks slowly, smiles even slower. “You’ve never told me that.”
With a shrug, Sam steels herself against the memories, the fight – screaming match – with John, so she can be here for Jessica. “It was hard, but I wanted to go to school. I had to.”
“What’d they want you to do?”
Her eyes drop and her mouth quirks with the shielded truth. “Family business.”
Jessica’s hand holds Sam’s face, strokes lightly and then pulls Sam closer to kiss. It’s lazy yet emotional with the shared secrets in this room, in the dark of midnight.
They wake in bed, Jessica curled in tight, head on Sam’s chest, hair a blanket around them.
Before Sam can say a word, Jessica presses a kiss into her collarbone. It’s short and sweet, as is her voice when she says, “Thank you.”
She rises to an elbow and smiles. “For being you.”
Sam wants to cringe, because it sounds so ridiculous, but it’s Jessica, and she wants so much with and from her. Seconds later, “Love you,” slips from Sam’s lips. Her mouth opens and closes like she could take it back, but when Jessica smiles, the edges of her eyes crinkling and watering, she’s glad to have said it.
They’ve fumbled their way through make outs, but Sam’s running high when Jessica’s fingers travel south, when they touch her in warm, wet places.
They’d moved slowly, so unearthly slowly with it being Sam’s first serious relationship, and Jessica being the most understanding creature in the world.
When Sam moans and writhes on Jessica’s fingers, Jessica smiles in between kisses. “I love you, Sam.”
Sam smirks and murmurs, “Just sayin’ that because you want me to return the favor.”
The joke is lost in the room; Jessica licks and bites at Sam’s lips. “I do. I so do.”
She turns, forces Jessica to her side, and they’re sharing a long look as Sam swallows and walks her hand down. Her fingers find soft, damp curls, tease skin just below, and then slip up and in. When Jessica inhales and her eyes start to drop closed, Sam feels it burst in her chest. To see that response, to know she’s doing that, and she keeps doing it as she strokes Jessica, as they stroke each other.
Jessica’s body is hot, burning everywhere, and she’s moving against Sam’s hand. She’s smiling and breathing hard and loud, mumbling little bits to encourage Sam to keep going. And when Sam gets into it, truly starts teasing and playing with Jessica’s clit, she’s rewarded with hushed, quick noises as Jessica shudders.
“Oh, God,” Sam whispers, holding her fingers against Jessica’s tremors. She slides closer, kisses hard and shoves her tongue into that mouth. She whimpers when Jessica’s hand moves again. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
“What if I wanted to be a garbage man?”
Sam accepts the bottle of beer and smirks when Jessica lands on the couch, sitting on Sam’s feet. “You mean a garbage woman?”
She tips her head to the side, looking annoyed but her twisted smile gives it away.
“Yes, you can be a garbage man.”
“Pet shop owner.”
“Sure,” Sam nods before taking a sip.
“You should go with limo driver.”
She watches her with critical eyes. “Why not a bus?”
Sam leans in, lips just an inch from Jessica’s. “Because you’d look hot in the uniform.”
Jessica nearly closes the space, moving millimeters closer. “You’re concerned with costumes, aren’t you?”
She raises her bottle, sliding the cool glass along Jessica’s bare skin, from her collar bone down to the dip of her breasts. “Only when you’re the one dressing up.”
“You’re kinky, Sam Winchester.”
Her eyebrow flicks up and she pushes Jessica to her back, hands roaming and teasing but never quite touching. After they put their bottles down, Sam settles more easily against Jessica, hands soft and caring, just like their kisses. She rests her forehead to Jessica’s and says with absolute certainty, “You can do whatever you want.”
“You won’t be embarrassed if I just work a 7-11?”
She says easily, “Do whatever you want. As long as you still come home.”
“What is it?” Jessica asks excitedly, chin tucked over Sam’s shoulder.
Sam shrugs her away with a smile. “Let me see my failure first, okay?”
She purses her lips and crosses her arms. “Sam, you did not fail.”
“You didn’t take the test, you don’t know that.”
“Stop being a brat.”
Sam looks up with high eyebrows. “Wow,” she chuckles.
“Open it!” Jessica demands with a laugh.
She takes a long, deep breath, and finally flicks open the envelope. Her heart stops and fingers tremble. “174,” she mumbles. “I got a 174.”
“Out of what?”
Her eyes are wide when she looks up, and her voice is low. “180.”
Jessica’s eyes are even wider when a short laugh breaks through. “Oh, my God, you’re, like, Mensa.”
“I got a 174,” Sam says again with wonder.
“My girlfriend’s a freak of a computer.”
“Shut up,” she laughs back.
“You’re gonna be a big, bad lawyer,” Jess murmurs into her ear.
Sam pulls her in tight, arms strong around her. “Not bad. I won’t be a bad one.”
“You’re gonna be all hot to trot, serious suits and sharp heels to dig right into the opposing witness.”
She laughs and kisses her temple. “Okay, maybe that.”
Jessica’s voice is fond when she whispers, “You’ll be great, Sam.”
Sam pulls her in even tighter, wrapping arms and legs around Jessica to keep her there. “We’ll be great.”
“Yeah?” she asks with a bright smile but careful eyes.
“Yeah,” Sam whispers before kissing her. “Already are.”