Tricky prompt is tricky. Didn't manage actual slash, but...mithrelAugust 30 2011, 23:44:30 UTC
It was the first day of his algebra class that Sam first noticed him. For one thing, he was a lot older than the typical college freshman. Not that that was unusual, but he stuck out. Like he didn’t fit. Maybe it was the fact that he wore an old-style peacoat, maybe it was something about the way his emotions never showed in his eyes, but Sam kept sneaking glances at him throughout the class.
At the end of the first week, the guy stopped him on his way out. “Hey!”
Sam turned around, instincts still sharp despite a semester living a “normal” life. “Yeah?”
The guy grinned at him, easy, charming.
False.
“You got another class after this one?”
“Not for another hour, why?”
He shrugged. “You want to get something to eat?”
“OK,” Sam said, his mind reflexively running through the list of things this guy could be.
“I’m Jack Harkness,” the guy said, smiling again and holding out a hand.
“Sam. Sam Winchester.” His instincts screaming again, that he shouldn’t let this guy-whatever he was-know his real name, Sam shook hands.
His handshake was firm, but not crushing, and when he pulled away he trailed his fingers over Sam’s palm.
“So, is this your first semester here?” Jack asks, as they head out of the math building.
“I started last fall,” Sam says. “How about you?”
Jack shrugged. “This is my first semester. I’ve done a lot of things, I figured I might as well get a degree to go along with it.”
Sam nodded. That made sense, and it explained his age. Still didn’t mean he wasn’t a monster.
“Of course, most of the math classes are easy for me. I could have tested out entirely, but then I’d miss the chance to play tutor.” The grin again.
“I don’t need a tutor. I’ve always gotten good grades in math.”
Jack looked at him. “Yeah, I bet you have. But you’re not the classic geek, though.”
Sam tensed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have muscle, for one thing.” Jack gestured around. “You keep an eye on everything around you without seeming to. And I bet you can hold your own in a fight.”
“Is that a threat?” Sam snarled.
Jack held up his hands. “Trigger-happy. Definitely not a geek.”
“What are you?” The question’s out before he can stop it, and Sam curses inwardly. So much for his instincts still being sharp.
Jack, though, only quirks an eyebrow at him. “I’m human.”
“OK, yeah, most people would be confused by that question. You’re not.”
Jack sighed. “Come with me.”
Sam felt for his knife, making sure he could get to it. He’d have felt more comfortable with a gun, but he was staying here for more than a few weeks, and if anyone saw it he’d be expelled.
They ended up in a secluded corner of the quad, and as Jack leaned lazily against a low wall, Sam growled, “Talk.”
Jack paused a minute, then said, “Like I said, I’m human, not whatever you’re thinking.” He looked at Sam curiously. “What were you thinking, anyway?”
“Demon. Shifter. Not sure yet.”
Jack, surprisingly, laughed. “Entirely the wrong track.”
“What’s the right track?” Sam asked, reaching for his knife again.
“That I’m human, just not from around here. And that won’t do you any good.”
Sam flushed, but obstinately kept his hand on his knife. Jack shook his head. “Have it your way.”
“So where are you from?”
“Originally? The Boeshane Peninsula.”
“Never heard of it.”
Jack stretched lazily. “You wouldn’t have. It’s on another planet.”
Sam gaped at him, but found himself believing him. Jack sounded crazy, but Sam knew how to spot a con, and while Jack had a definite air of the con-man about him, he didn’t seem to be lying now.
“What about you? It’s not everybody who mentions demons when they first meet someone.”
“I’m…” Sam corrected himself. “I was a hunter.”
“A demon hunter?”
Sam shrugged. “Demons, ghosts, werewolves, you name it.”
“But not anymore?”
Sam sighed. “I’m trying not to be. Apparently it’s a hard habit to kick.”
Jack laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, good luck with that, Van Helsing. See you in class.”
At the end of the first week, the guy stopped him on his way out. “Hey!”
Sam turned around, instincts still sharp despite a semester living a “normal” life. “Yeah?”
The guy grinned at him, easy, charming.
False.
“You got another class after this one?”
“Not for another hour, why?”
He shrugged. “You want to get something to eat?”
“OK,” Sam said, his mind reflexively running through the list of things this guy could be.
“I’m Jack Harkness,” the guy said, smiling again and holding out a hand.
“Sam. Sam Winchester.” His instincts screaming again, that he shouldn’t let this guy-whatever he was-know his real name, Sam shook hands.
His handshake was firm, but not crushing, and when he pulled away he trailed his fingers over Sam’s palm.
“So, is this your first semester here?” Jack asks, as they head out of the math building.
“I started last fall,” Sam says. “How about you?”
Jack shrugged. “This is my first semester. I’ve done a lot of things, I figured I might as well get a degree to go along with it.”
Sam nodded. That made sense, and it explained his age. Still didn’t mean he wasn’t a monster.
“Of course, most of the math classes are easy for me. I could have tested out entirely, but then I’d miss the chance to play tutor.” The grin again.
“I don’t need a tutor. I’ve always gotten good grades in math.”
Jack looked at him. “Yeah, I bet you have. But you’re not the classic geek, though.”
Sam tensed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have muscle, for one thing.” Jack gestured around. “You keep an eye on everything around you without seeming to. And I bet you can hold your own in a fight.”
“Is that a threat?” Sam snarled.
Jack held up his hands. “Trigger-happy. Definitely not a geek.”
“What are you?” The question’s out before he can stop it, and Sam curses inwardly. So much for his instincts still being sharp.
Jack, though, only quirks an eyebrow at him. “I’m human.”
“OK, yeah, most people would be confused by that question. You’re not.”
Jack sighed. “Come with me.”
Sam felt for his knife, making sure he could get to it. He’d have felt more comfortable with a gun, but he was staying here for more than a few weeks, and if anyone saw it he’d be expelled.
They ended up in a secluded corner of the quad, and as Jack leaned lazily against a low wall, Sam growled, “Talk.”
Jack paused a minute, then said, “Like I said, I’m human, not whatever you’re thinking.” He looked at Sam curiously. “What were you thinking, anyway?”
“Demon. Shifter. Not sure yet.”
Jack, surprisingly, laughed. “Entirely the wrong track.”
“What’s the right track?” Sam asked, reaching for his knife again.
“That I’m human, just not from around here. And that won’t do you any good.”
Sam flushed, but obstinately kept his hand on his knife. Jack shook his head. “Have it your way.”
“So where are you from?”
“Originally? The Boeshane Peninsula.”
“Never heard of it.”
Jack stretched lazily. “You wouldn’t have. It’s on another planet.”
Sam gaped at him, but found himself believing him. Jack sounded crazy, but Sam knew how to spot a con, and while Jack had a definite air of the con-man about him, he didn’t seem to be lying now.
“What about you? It’s not everybody who mentions demons when they first meet someone.”
“I’m…” Sam corrected himself. “I was a hunter.”
“A demon hunter?”
Sam shrugged. “Demons, ghosts, werewolves, you name it.”
“But not anymore?”
Sam sighed. “I’m trying not to be. Apparently it’s a hard habit to kick.”
Jack laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, good luck with that, Van Helsing. See you in class.”
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