[Supernatural] (PG)
Author' Note: Written for 
fic_promptly's Supernatural, Jess, picnic. Set before the series.
It was their one-year anniversary of when they met and Jess wanted to do something special to celebrate. "Nothing too crazy, though, I've got that test on Monday," Sam asked.
She chuckled, gently: he always had their class schedule on his mind. "I wasn't thinking of a weekend in Paris," she said. "Just a picnic on the grass somewhere on the campus."
He had a turn at chuckling, though his sounded more dry. "That'd be a first.'
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"A picnic. I never really went on one growing up," he said. He never did talk much about his past or his family, and she did not prod him to reveal much: he had told her he had some bad blood with his father and his brother and she felt it wise to let him share what he wanted in his own good time. "It just... wasn't something we did: we moved around so much, it probably never crossed my dad's mind. I mean, we ate in the fresh air, but..."
"Not exactly the same, I take it?" she said. She reached out and putting a hand on his arm, squeezed it gently, reassuringly. "Well, then, let's make it a good one."
She made sure to make it as much like the homey, Norman Rockwell painting picnic as she could: the red check tablecloth, a wicker basket with a hinged lid, watermelon wedges, potato salad, ham and cheese sandwiches. Even some ants came to pitter patter over the cloth, picking up the crumbs they dropped.
"Yipe! We got ants!" Jess squawked, jumping back at the sight. Then she looked at Sam, laughing at herself. He joined in, chuckling gently.
"Wouldn't be a picnic without some ants," she said, shooing the critters
"I can rescue you from them, if you prefer," he said.
"It's all right: it's just a few ants," she replied.
"First picnic and it's perfect, right down to the ants," he said, his smile reaching his shadowed eyes, lifting the darkness there for a time...
fic_promptly's Supernatural, Jess, picnic. Set before the series.
It was their one-year anniversary of when they met and Jess wanted to do something special to celebrate. "Nothing too crazy, though, I've got that test on Monday," Sam asked.
She chuckled, gently: he always had their class schedule on his mind. "I wasn't thinking of a weekend in Paris," she said. "Just a picnic on the grass somewhere on the campus."
He had a turn at chuckling, though his sounded more dry. "That'd be a first.'
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"A picnic. I never really went on one growing up," he said. He never did talk much about his past or his family, and she did not prod him to reveal much: he had told her he had some bad blood with his father and his brother and she felt it wise to let him share what he wanted in his own good time. "It just... wasn't something we did: we moved around so much, it probably never crossed my dad's mind. I mean, we ate in the fresh air, but..."
"Not exactly the same, I take it?" she said. She reached out and putting a hand on his arm, squeezed it gently, reassuringly. "Well, then, let's make it a good one."
She made sure to make it as much like the homey, Norman Rockwell painting picnic as she could: the red check tablecloth, a wicker basket with a hinged lid, watermelon wedges, potato salad, ham and cheese sandwiches. Even some ants came to pitter patter over the cloth, picking up the crumbs they dropped.
"Yipe! We got ants!" Jess squawked, jumping back at the sight. Then she looked at Sam, laughing at herself. He joined in, chuckling gently.
"Wouldn't be a picnic without some ants," she said, shooing the critters
"I can rescue you from them, if you prefer," he said.
"It's all right: it's just a few ants," she replied.
"First picnic and it's perfect, right down to the ants," he said, his smile reaching his shadowed eyes, lifting the darkness there for a time...