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Five People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated

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Summary: Sam loved Jess, but what if he'd loved someone just a bit different, someone who knew more about the world than Sam ever would have thought?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Multiple Pairings
DC Universe > Wonder Woman
Harry Potter > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Crossover: Supernatural
Smallville > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Crossover: Other
(Past Donor)vinniebatmanFR15510,32723823,55828 Feb 0724 Oct 09Yes

Ice Cold

Title: Ice Cold
Author: batmanvinnie aka vinniebatman
Fandom: BtVS/SPN
Pairings: For this one, Sam Winchester/Connor Reilly. And hints of Dean Winchester/Illyria
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen, warnings for two men kissing.
Spoilers: For all of Angel, and for the start of Season 1.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap Joss and Kripke; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership regarding Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series or Supernatural are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
Betas: Thanks to anxiety_junkie and _beetle_ for the beta reads.

The Impala roared through the streets of Palo Alto, Sam's apartment only two blocks away. It was late and the city was enveloped in the quiet hush of a Sunday night.

"So Sam; I got a question about your boy," Dean said, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just don't, Dean, okay?"

Dean shot his brother an innocent look as they stopped at an intersection.

"What? I wasn't going to ask anything weird. I mean, you're my bother; I don't wanna know about your kinky sex games."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam growled.

Dean laughed and shook his head.

"Really, no sex questions. I just want to know where your boy toy learned to fight all 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Boyfriend' style," he said, pulling the Impala into the parking lot of the building. Dean turned off the car.

"Connor said he studied martial arts when he was younger, that's all," Sam said.

"Really? Because those were some killer moves. You sure he's not a hunter?"

Sam shook his head, then got out of the car, pulling his bag from the back seat. "I'm pretty sure. I mean, one of his oldest friends lives next door, and she's definitely not hunter material," Sam explained.

"The skinny babe that came in after Connor got all ninja on my ass?"

"Yeah, that's her. She's a physicist."

"Ooh, brainy and hot; nice," Dean said, smiling lecherously. "Brainy chicks are always the kinky ones."

Sam winced. "Stop it, man, I don't want to think of Fred like that."


"Yeah, it's short for Winifred."

"Huh." He grinned. "Bet I could get her number."

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean grinned, before falling silent. The quiet stretched out until Sam finally cleared his throat. "You’ll call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, all right."

Sam turned away from his brother and headed toward the building's entrance.

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah, we did." Sam nodded, and the two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart. The silence that was suddenly broken by a loud shattering of glass. Dean and Sam looked up.

From the broken window of Sam's apartment, two bodies fell amid a shining rain of glass. They landed on the ground, hard, one of them immediately rolling to his feet. Standing on the ground in a fighting stance, clad only in pajama bottoms and carrying a large sword, was Connor.

Sam's eyes bugged out.

"Connor?" he squeaked.

"Holy shit, that had to hurt," Dean muttered, stunned, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

The other man rose to his feet, a knife protruding from his shoulder. He turned and grinned at Sam and Dean, eyes flashing yellow.

"Fuck, it's him!" Dean cursed, pulling his gun out.

"Well, well, well; looks like young Sam's squeeze is a little more than human," the demon rasped, grinning.

He looked down at his shoulder and tugged on the knife. It didn't move. He looked back up at Connor, glaring.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get a chance to mention this, but that knife isn't going anywhere and neither are you. It's like a supernatural nail," Connor explained. "You're trapped in that body."

The demon frowned before tugging on it again.

"It's not coming out," Connor said. "I may not know how to kill your kind, but you aren't the first possessive creature I've had to keep in place."

Connor moved forward, expertly twirling and swinging the massive sword with ease.

"See Sammy, I told you he's a hunter," Dean whispered victoriously. He then yelped when Sam stomped on his foot.

"Now really isn't the time, Dean!"

"You think I'm worried?" the demon asked, a slow, easy grin spreading across his face. "You have no notion of my strength or what I'm capable of, hunter."

Connor rolled his eyes. "One: I'm not a hunter. And two: I'm not the one you should be afraid of."

"Then enlighten me, little boy . . . what meat sack hunter's supposed to scare me?" The demon scoffed, its confidence back, his smile growing.

The building's front door slammed open and a thin brunette with a cold, dead gaze strode out purposefully. The door behind her stuck the wall with immense force, cracking the wall behind it before breaking and falling from its hinges.

"Her," Connor smirked and with a careless air, raised his sword and rested it on his shoulder. "I may not know how to kill you, but she will."

"Fred?" Sam asked, his eyes wide. He blinked. "He should fear Fred," he repeated, his voice higher. "He should fear Fred?!"

"Dude, she wasn't that scary looking two days ago," Dean muttered.

"Well, she doesn't usually break down doors, either," Sam replied with a hysteria-tinged chuckle.

The demon laughed. "Her? I should fear her?"

Fred lifted her chin. She stalked forward, no hesitation or fear in her steps. "I ruled this world before the first of you kind was shaped. True demons, not the desperate shadows of which you claim lordship, cowered before me in terror and adoration, worshiping me," Fred ground out in a monotone voice, a sneer twisting her mouth.

Before their eyes, her appearance seemed to melt, hair and skin fading to a pale blue while her clothing transformed into leathery body armor. She stopped in front of the demon.

"What are you?" Dean asked.

"I am Illyria, God King of the Primordium," she announced, head raised proudly.

The demon's eyes widened in shock, before they narrowed.

"Well, now, maybe you were. But now you're just a has-been trapped in over-cooked meat, weak," the demon said, its taunts at odds with the way it was slowly backing away from her.

Illyria cocked her head to the side, observing the demon with almost clinical detachment. "I am diminished in this shell, but I still carry far more power than your pathetic kind. Unlike you, I cannot be banished by the mere religious bleating of a human."

"'Bleating?' Dude, did she just compare us to sheep?" Dean demanded.

"Hey, it's better than what she usually calls us," Connor said with a shrug.

Sam just stared, his gaze jumping from his suddenly super-strong, sword-wielding boyfriend to their apparently demon-god neighbor, watching in stunned quiet. How in the hell had missed this? He was drawn out of his internal freak-out by Illyria's movement.

Illyria struck quickly, placing her hand on the demon's chest. Her fingers dug into the flesh over the demon's heart and blood began to drip down its shirt. With her other hand, she ripped the knife out of the demon's shoulder, a large piece of the surrounding flesh tearing out with the blade.

"What the hell?" Dean yelled.

The demon grinned and opened its mouth, but before it could flee, Illyria dropped the knife and slanted her mouth over the demon's in a strange parody of a kiss. The demon’s black essence surged out against her mouth, but a blue mist began to flow out of her, forcing the demon back down inside of its host. The blue mist continued pushing inside of the demon, pushing down and into the demon's body. Sam and Dean could only watch in horror as the yellow of the demon's eyes faded, its body shaking as it let out a muffled scream.

Illyria moved her head away form his and the blue mist flowed back into her. The demon's black essence flowed out and again tried to flee, but it was now entwined and trapped by thin lines of blue that crossed back and forth over the demon's essence, stretching the black smoke between their mouths. A low rumble started deep within Illyria's chest, and a dark blue light shot out of Illyria's mouth and traveled traveled out toward the demon. A high pitched shriek sounded, and the demon's essence burned away in blue flames, the body glowing blue as it was burned from the inside out. Illyria inhaled, pulling the last of the blue mist into herself before closing her mouth and dropping the demon's body.

"Pathetic. A demonic essence is as easily destroyed as a soul." Illyria turned and faced Connor. "Are you injured?"

Connor studied her for a short time, then sighed. "What did you take?"

"Take?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, she always takes trophies. Since she hasn't tried to cut the head off of the body, she must have taken something from the demon."

Illyria cocked her head to the side, then lifted her hand. The demon's dead host was raised into the air before she lowered her hand, dropping the body. She then waved her hand and a ball of fire shot out, engulfing it in flames. Within moments, the corpse had been reduced to ash.

"This weekend just keeps on getting freakier and freakier," Dean muttered. "Okay, I've got questions and you'd better have answers."

"Said the pot to kettle," Connor said. He looked over at Sam, who looked confused and hurt. "Yeah, fine, we need to talk. But we should probably head inside first."

The group moved quickly, and once in the apartment, Sam dropped onto the couch, his face still slack with shock. Illyria stood at the door, practically at parade rest, while Connor dropped into the desk chair.

Dean paced, dragging his hands down his face before speaking. "First of all, even if Ol' Yellow Eyes hadn't said something, most people can't fall out a third story window like it's no big deal. Add in the fact that he just happened to have a knife to nail a demon into its host? I don't know what you are, man, but you sure as hell ain't normal," Dean pointed out. "And don't even get me started on Illfredia over there."

"You will address me by my proper title," Illyria commanded, turning that eerie blue gaze on Dean.

Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm human, really. I just have vampires for parents, so I heal like them, and I have their strength and speed. It gives me extra supernatural protections, you could say. When the demon tried to use telekinesis on me, it didn't work. But I have a soul and I age. I'm just human plus," he explained, eying Sam nervously.

"I have questions as well." Illyria's cold gaze ticked to Sam, her eyes penetrating. Sam wished she looked like Fred again. "The demon knew of you, but not of Connor. Thus while Connor was the target, the attack was obviously a strike against you. Explain."

Sam glanced at his brother.

Dean threw his hands in the air. "Fuck, I don't know, Sammy. I mean, yeah, they know about demons and stuff, but hell, I just don't know. It's up to you."

Sam looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. In his mind, he reviewed everything he knew, everything he'd seen, before finally deciding. "It killed my Mom when I was a baby, and our Dad has been hunting it ever since. He raised us as hunters, moving from town to town, hunting until I left for school. But I don't know why it came here; it's been over twenty years since Mom. I guess it just wanted revenge against Dad or something, I don't know," Sam answered. "I'm so sorry, Con."

Connor frowned, shaking his head. "Don't tell me you knew that thing was coming after me?"

"Not . . . exactly. I had a dream where he," Sam paused, squeezing his eyes shut as the images of Connor dying flashed through his mind. "I had a dream where he killed you, burned you alive, but I just thought it was a dream; a nightmare."

Connor stared. "A nightmare. You have prophetic dreams a lot?"

Sam shook his head. "First time."

Connor sighed deeply. "Fuck, we'll deal with that later. I'm not sure what think of that, but all the crazy shit I've been hiding from you." Connor trailed off with a shrug.

"Wait, you're not hiding anything else, are you?" Dean chimed in, falling silent when three people turned to glare at him

Then Sam looked back at Connor, whose eyes had suddenly dropped to the floor. "You're mad at me about the secrets I've kept and there's more you haven't told me?"
"I was raised in a hell dimension, came back kind of psychotic, tried to kill my birth-father, had my memories erased so I could have a normal life, and my closest friend is an ancient demon god who swore an oath to watch over me." Connor winced, suddenly realizing how large his glass house was compared to Sam's. "Just, well, we've both been lying our asses off, so I really don't think we should be playing the who's-the-bigger-liar game," Connor finished in an anxious rush.

"Well there's no need to play when it's obvious who the winner's gonna be. Hunter childhood versus a demon god best friend, wiped memories and vampire parents? No contest, man." This time, only Connor glared at Dean, who grinned right back. "But I will admit, Sammy; your boy's a badass. I guess this really does make you the girl in the relationship."

"Oh, shut up, Dean." Sam clasped his hands together, twisting his fingers until they were white. The two lovers looked at each other, neither one moving, both of them guilty. Sam didn't know if their relationship could be salvaged, if they could move past all of the lies. But God, he loved Connor, loved his smile, his lips, his laugh, his sense of humor....

"Cease your pathetic posturing," Illyria finally said. "Your bodies warm for one another, so leave my sight and copulate."

"I second that. Not the sex part, but you guys are obviously stupid for each other. And now you've get everything out in the open, so stop with the shy guy acts and kiss and make up," Dean added gruffly, a little uncomfortable. There were some things no big brother wanted to know about or discuss.

Sam blushed before standing and slowly moving closer, eyebrows raised hopefully. Connor visibly relaxed. He stood and met Sam in the middle of their living room.

Reaching out, Sam cupped Connor's face and pulled him close with a gentle kiss. Connor tossed his sword onto the couch, then wrapped one arm around Sam's waist, the other gripping Sam's shoulder as they deepened the kiss. With a soft moan, Sam gripped Connor's hips and pulled their bodies closer together.

Dean cleared his throat. It only served to make Illyria notice him again, and did nothing to stop the man-on-man grope-session.

"Okay, then! I'm gonna go get a hotel room. You guys have fun, and don't forget to choose a safe-word."

"Dean - get out," Sam broke the kiss to order. Connor didn't say anything, merely pulled firmly on Sam's hand and dragged him into the bedroom.

Illyria watched them leave the room, then turned and exited the apartment, Dean following.

Once in the hallway, she turned to face him.

"You, brother of Samuel; your form is no longer warm for my shell as it was on our first meeting." She cocked her head to the side again. "Why is that?"

Dean stared back at her. "First of all, sweetheart, it's Dean. And the truth? You scare my penis."

"Irrelevant. Samuel has mentioned your prowess, and I find myself desiring sexual congress after battle."

"Excuse me?"

"You shall copulate with me," she declared, her armor disappearing and baring her blue-tinged flesh.

Dean stared, eyes riveted to the nude form before him.

"Okay, but only if you go back to not looking so... freaky."

Illyria shifted back to her normal form, sans clothing, and lifted her chin.

"Your terms are acceptable."


The End

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