Sam was unnessecarily quick in returning to the Bennett's house- in fact, she ran the whole way there. She tripped a few times, but always managed not to faceplant.
By the time she got back, and shut the door behind her, making sure it was firmly closed, she was out of breath and panting. For a moment, she just stood there, snow melting off of her and forming a puddle on the tile as she caught her breath.
As soon as she was able, Sam slipped off the heavy jacket. She shuddered convulsivly. The Shadows had come for her again. How long before they succeeded in their mission, what ever- and for whoever- it was? How long did she have?
Slowly, though, as she made her way into the kitchen and began putting together lunch, another line of thought wormed its way into the front of her mind. And that thought centered primarily on Jack Frost.
Angrily, Sam told herself to stop it as she slammed the silverware drawer shut a little harder than was really nessecary. The winter spirits had always attracted her- not that she had seen very many, but something about them drew her in- perhaps their edginess, beyond even that of the other Fey.
But Frost hadn't been one of them, exactly; he looked like a sprite or one of the Fey, but there was something- maybe just a hint of pink where the Fey were stark white- that set him apart.
Determinly, Sam shook her head to rid it of that train of thought. I will not obsess over Jack Frost. I will not obsess over the memory of an arrogant winter spirit that I'll probably never see again. I managed to keep my sanity around the Fey, I can do that here.
She heard the front door open and shut, with the sound of smaller feet on the hardwood floor.
"Hello, Jamie," She called, turning back to her pot of soup- about the only thing she felt she could make right now. Dumping a can of Campbell's soup mix in a pot, adding water, and stirring over heat was about all she could manage after what happened in the woods.
"Hi, Sam!" she heard him awnser out in the foyer. She smiled and went out to go greet him and help mop up the drips from melting snow.
"I made soup; are you-" And then her mouth dropped open in astonishment. Right beside Jamie, looking at her with an equally surprised expression, was Jack Frost.
Sam recovered her ability to speak first. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, astonishment evident in her voice.
Jack blinked. "What are you doing here?" he shot back.
"I live here!" Sam replied, irritated. "It's not like you can say the same."
Just then, Jamie broke in, eyes wide and his voice disbelieving. "You guys know each other?!"
"If you can call me saving your sister's life this morning knowing each other-"
"Hey, snowman, you did not save my life, you nearly killed me!"
"Guys!" Jamie yelled, getting both sparring teenager's attention. He looked at both of them, thuroughly confused. "You can see him?" He asked Sam.
Sam shrugged. "Yes. It's a long story. How did you meet snowman over there?"
"Hey!" Jack protested.
Jamie smiled. "That's a long story too."
Sam sighed and leaned against the wall. "Alright. Both of you in the kitchen. Now."
Jamie looked at her apprehensivly. "I'm not in trouble, right?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Of course not." Then she caught sight of Jack cautiously trying to sneak back out the front door. "I meant you too, Frostbite."
"But..."
"Both of you; in there before I make you."
Jamie might have covered a laugh at the winter spirit's completely stunned expression.
Sam set two bowls of steaming chicken soup down on the table, one in front of Jamie, the other at her own place, before walking back to turn off the stove.
Awkwardly, she paused in front of the fridge. "You want anything?" she asked Jack, unsure exactly how one was supposed to treat a legend.
He smirked at her, lounging on his chair in completely the wrong way. "I'm fine."
"Oh, come on, I can't just sit there and eat while you don't!" Sam said, annoyed. Yes, she could, but she didn't want to- and she felt very annoyed at this rather persistent Jack Frost.
Sam glanced around before her eyes landed on the freezer. Hmm...
With abrupt, curt gestures, she opened the freezer drawer and rifled around for a bit- before picking out a pint of vanilla ice cream that had been on sale last week and none of them had gotten to yet. She slammed the drawer shut and slid the pint aross the table at him, followed by a spoon.
"There. Knock yourself out."
Self-appeased, Sam plopped down and began spooning chicken noodle into her mouth, suddenly ravenous. Ah, well. Aftermath of adrenaline, she guessed. Swallowing, she pointed at the two across from her.
"Okay. We have food, I'm hungry, you're not. Spill."
Jamie shifted awkwardly in his seat, playing with his soup. "Well- it all started two years ago. It was three days before Easter-"
For the next hour, Sam listened in astonishment as Jamie's tale of magic, evil, and general saving the world unfolded. Occasionally, she noticed her cooling soup and ate a few more bites, but in general, it was forgotten. She almost couldn't believe Jamie's story- except for three things. One- she saw things like Jamie did all the time. Two, Jack Frost was sitting right across from her. Three- well, this was Jamie.
When he finished, Sam's eyes were wide. "Alright. That's- that's pretty amazing."
Jamie blushed and looked embarassed. "It wasn't that much."
Sam opened her mouth to contradict him, but Jack got there first. "Nah. You were key to the whole thing! After all, you were the kid who refused to stop believing. And you're the first person who ever saw me. That makes you pretty important in my book."
Jamie looked up at him with a mix of adoration and disbelief. "Really?"
"Yeah." Jack said simply, playing with his staff, which he'd refused to let go of. Sam felt her estimation of him go up several notches. She'd thought he was just like the other winter creatures she'd met- full of self interest and passion for amusing themselves at the expense of others. Obviously, there was more to him then she thought.
"Alright then," She said, turning her gaze to him. "What's your story?"
Jack shrugged wordlessly, suddenly absorbed in staring at his staff, or the wall, or anywhere but her. "Not much. What's yours?"
Sam crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. "You first."
"Really?" Jack said, a smirk returning to his face, suddenly chasing away the solemn expression that had slipped onto it. "You're gonna be that childish?"
"I'm childish?" Sam said in astonishment, before rolling her eyes. "I should have known."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked testily.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "I'll go first, then. Do you want to hear or not?"
The smirk reappeared. "Shoot."
"Long story short, so this doesn't take until midnight, I was born in Michigan to a single mother. She and my grandmother died in a fire- I escaped by the roof and got several -ah- souveniers from the experience. Wouldn't recommend it." Sam said sardonically, taking a deep breath to steady her heart, which was beginning to race at the memory of the fire.
"I ended up in the hospital for two weeks or so; ran away from the funeral and into one of you guys." She nodded at Jack. "I was the first mortal in a century who could see her- she told me that I was gifted, and we got to know each other. She's my best freind- still comes around. Anyway, went around to relatives houses for years, mostly in the southwest, and eventually I ended up here, just 'cause my family got tired of me. Been living her for three and a half months, decided to go for a walk in the woods this morning, and met you after you decided to 'rescue' me from that thing. So, here we sit; you know the rest, End of Story."
Sam finished her condensed story and got up, clearing away dishes and food from the table. Jack watched her for a moment, and not because- alright, not just because he still thought she was sort of pretty. He noticed that she seemed sad- three hundred years of observing the world had given him a pretty good grasp on body language.
Well, being effectively rejected by your family would make anyone sad, he supposed. Being alone- he remembered it all too well.
But this wasn't the best time to offer personal remarks. He cleared his throat to ask a question.
"How long have you- been able to see things? Like me, I mean. I've just never heard of it before."
Sam shrugged, putting the bowls in the sink. "All my life. I just took it for granted, I guess, until Amay explained it. The Shadows, though-" Sam shuddered. "Those show up wherever I go. I don't know when or if they will- they've just been around since the fire."
Jack frowned. Her reference to the wraith thing as a 'Shadow' reminded him vaguely of Pitch. And anything connected to the still dangerous threat was important.
He opened his mouth to say something about the pole- but Sam beat him to it.
"It's gonna be dark soon," She said, coming back over to the table. "I've gotta go pick up your sister, Jamie. I'll leave you two alone- just don't let Snow Miser over there freeze the kitchen or something."
"Hey!" Jack protested again. Really, was the girl determined to hold a grudge against him?
Jamie laughed. "Jack wouldn't do that." He defended loyally.
Sam snorted doubtfully. "If you say so. The things I've seen Winter creatures do- anyway. Have fun." She said, before shrugging her coat back on and slipping out to the front room.
Jack watched her go, before shouting- "I'll come with you!"
He grinned when her heard something sounding vaguely like a rather potent insult directed at him- and then noticed how Jamie's face had fallen.
"But, Jack-" The sixth grader trailed, face a mask of dissapointment. Jack glanced back toward Sam- then crouched down in front of his believer.
"I'll make it snow tomorrow, okay?" he whispered conspiritorily.
Jamie nodded, slowly. "You promise, right?"
"Right." Jack said, before standing up. "Don't get into trouble."
Jamie rolled his eyes- three guesses where he learned that. "I won't."