"So, what do you think? The dress, or jeans and this?"
Jess practically bounced on her toes as she held up a red cocktail dress in one hand and a white knit halter top in the other.
You walked past her and pulled out a faded tee from the closet.
"The color of this one brings out your eyes," you offered, smiling.
"You've got to be kidding." Her nose scrunched. Your suggestion sported two smurfs, and a bleach stain across one sleeve.
"Oh, come on. He's bringing you to Antonio's, not Zola," you replied, tossing the shirt into a growing pile of date-night rejections.
"Since when did you have a problem with Antonio's?" She gave a last look to the dress and halter before dejectedly dropping them to the floor with the rest.
You flopped to a seat on the edge of her bed. "Since now. You're better than free peanuts and eau de stale beer."
But the truth was, even if Jess was being treated to the finest French cuisine in Palo Alto, it still wouldn't be good enough. The upbeat blonde had been the best thing to happen to you since starting university. When you first showed up at the sprawling campus, stressed about everything from keeping the grades that secured your tuition to what it would be like sharing an apartment with a stranger, she had been the one to ease the transition.
Fell asleep at your desk studying for midterms? Jess was the reason you woke up in the morning with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
Had to juggle work with a series of all-nighters? Jess was why a steaming mug of coffee was waiting for you when you dragged yourself through the door.
Every late-night fit of giggles, every tear-smeared moment of anxiety – she shared in both the best and worst of times, always ready with a smile or a shoulder whenever either was needed.
Your pickiness wasn't a matter of jealousy, but of protection.
No one was good enough for Jessica Moore.
Especially not Sam Winchester.
"You really hate him that much?" The bed dipped as Jess took a seat beside you.
She trusted you. You could see it in her concerned stare, in the small downturn of her lips. She was looking forward to this date, but if you really disapproved, she'd take your advice and call it off.
Which sucked, because you really had no reason to doubt the guy.
"No, I don't hate him," you sighed. "But you could have anyone you want, Jess. This campus is crawling with people who are going to be the future elite, even if they don't pass their bar exams. You deserve someone who can… I don't know. Make your dreams come true. Who can fly you to Europe on your honeymoon and make sure you don't have to pick up extra shifts to make ends meet."
Jess laughed. "I don't think he's going to propose on the first date."
"I just want you to have someone who really cares for you. You always look out for everyone, especially me. It's about time someone returned the favor and gave you everything you want."
She leaned into you, her hair fanned out against your shoulder. "What if what I want is someone who still holds doors open for a girl? Or who didn't grow up with everything, so he works hard and appreciates what he's got? The kind of guy who grins to himself when he thinks I'm not looking, as if he can't believe his luck every time we're together…"
Defeated, you smiled along with her. Sam might not have a family fortune to inherit or a big name to brag about, but he was a big, smitten doof every time he was near Jess. It might not be love, yet, but it would be. Someday.
"Yeah. Then I guess Sam's an okay fit."
Pride swallowed, you left her to walk back to the pile of clothes littering the floor and retrieved the halter.
"Wear this with those jeans that have the rip on the knee. Casual, but sexy. He'll be walking into doors instead of opening them for you when he gets a look."
Jessica hopped up from the bed, and before you knew it, had placed a quick peck on your lips.
"I love you. I couldn't ask for a better roommate!" she gushed. You playfully shoved her away, but she had already seen the blush that lit up your cheeks. "He'll be here in less than a half hour. Think you can hang out with him for a few minutes if I grab a quick shower?"
"Yeah, I'll play nice."
Which meant you would only tease him about those boyband-bangs once. Maybe twice.
"Hey, Jess."
She had already been heading out of the room, but paused to look back to you.
"Does Sam know about… well, you know." You mimed a gun with your forefinger and thumb. "That you're a Hunter?"
"Was a Hunter," she corrected. "And no way, that's behind me. No reason to fill him in on the family business. At least, not until the wedding."
She winked and ducked just in time to avoid the pillow you tossed at her head. The supernatural lifestyle might be behind her, but the girl still had the reflexes she had been trained with. Not to mention, a mean right hook if anyone chose to piss her off.
Sam Winchester had no idea what he was in for.