storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2012-01-18 04:25 pm
storypaint) wrote2012-01-18 04:25 pm
Entry tags:
[Glee] one impulse from a vernal wood (Sam/Rachel)
Title: one impulse from a vernal wood
Fandom: Glee
Length: 3431 words
Prompt: For the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
g_aficexchange.
Pairing: Sam/Rachel
Other: There are spoilers for The Dark Knight and the Spiderman comics in here, and some various other nerdery. This goes AU around Prom Queen and I hand-waved the actual timing of hunting season for the sake of the story.
Summary/Excerpt: Sam's dad recommended that he take his crush hunting in order to romance her. Too bad Rachel is, um, a vegan. Sam was beginning to realize that he was really, really bad at romance.
Sam was beginning to realize that he was really, really bad at romance. Maybe he was a little slow to pick up on it, but you couldn't blame him too much -- after all, Quinn had been his first girlfriend, which totally explained why he'd gotten a little carried away.
He was determined not to make the same mistake again, even if every time he looked at Rachel he pictured their future together, which somehow involved blonde twins (Luke and Leia, and he absolutely wasn't budging there) and Rachel's Broadway success. He wouldn't mind being her loyal house-husband and stay-at-home dad. He'd be there to massage her feet and listen to her complain about casting directors while the babies slept comfortably on their Star Wars sheets.
But that was later. Much later. He had to convince her to like him first, and that was proving to be a little difficult. Rachel still seemed to like Finn, inexplicably, and Sam toyed with the idea of being a loud-mouthed jerk for a while before he decided he couldn't play the part.
"You are really lucky to have me helping you out," Mercedes said fervently when he related his current Rachel-wooing plans. "You're just a little hopeless, you know that?"
She reached across the table and poked him in the nose, and Sam grinned in his chastisement. He was so glad that he'd gone to prom with Mercedes and Rachel. Now he had a new best girl friend in Mercedes, who was so much nicer than Quinn and didn't think that boys and girls couldn't be just friends. He had realized that he was head over heels for Rachel that night at prom, and when he worked up the courage to tell Mercedes, she'd been completely supportive, telling him that he was a much better choice than Jesse or Finn, by a landslide.
"She needs a romantic, Sam," Mercedes informed him, sipping at her iced coffee. They'd met at the Lima Bean so many times recently that Sam suspected he was getting a killer caffeine addiction. It was a good thing that his parents had found jobs and his pizza money was all his now. That would also help with date options.
Mercedes gestured as she went on, "This is Rachel we're talking about, after all. Asking her out in blue-cat-people language--"
"N'avi," Sam corrected, a little hurt.
"Right, whatever. My point is, that's not going to work. Make a big statement."
They pondered big statements as they drank. Mercedes suggested that he go home and watch his sister's copy of Enchanted for ideas. He neglected to mention that it was actually his own DVD. (And he wondered if he could pay steel drum players to serenade him and Rachel in the park.)
But he didn't really have any practical ideas before Kurt and Blaine came in for their weekly coffee date, and then he had to carefully dodge Kurt's little suggestions that Sam and Mercedes should date. The guy meant well, but there was no way he was going to tell Kurt about his crush on Rachel. Getting Mercedes to keep it a secret had been hard enough. And Mercedes was a great girl, Kurt was totally right, but she just wasn't right for Sam. He was sure she'd find her own awesome boyfriend soon. If Kurt didn't stop hinting, Sam himself would find someone to set her up with. He had a feeling that he'd do a better job than Kurt had.
All Sam knew was that he had to move fast if he wanted to beat Finn. Kurt told them that Finn had broken up with Quinn at Jean's funeral (seriously, he was a class act, wasn't he?). It was only a matter of time before he'd be chasing Rachel again.
When Sam came home later to the apartment his family was renting now, his dad burst into the living room with a bright smile on his face.
"This is the year, Sam!" he said cheerfully, clapping his son on the shoulder. Sam blinked in confusion. Stevie and Stacy turned from the TV and stared up hopefully.
"Uh, for what?" Sam asked. His dad had been really cheerful since he'd found the new job, but this was even more than usual.
"You remember that I promised to take you hunting, just like my dad did with me? Well, in a couple of weeks we're going to go. Won't that be exciting?"
Sam could think about ten other things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the brush in the dark watching for deer, but this was really important to his dad. He'd been devastated when he had to sell his hunting equipment during the bad times. He'd told his kids all the stories he had about hunting with Sam's grandpa. In fact, his favorite story was the one where he met his future wife at a campsite. She'd been a tomboy there with her own father.
That gave Sam an idea.
"Can I bring someone?" he asked. His father gave him a knowing glance.
"Got a girl you're after, huh? Two ways to win a woman's heart: rock ballads and hunting. Guaranteed."
"What's guaranteed?" Sam's mom asked, coming into the house and hanging her purse on the hook. She'd gotten a new job just days after her husband, and although that meant Sam walked home after school and picked up the little ones, he really didn't mind.
"Never gonna give you up," Sam's dad started singing, wrapping an arm around his wife. Giggling and shouting, "Eww!", the little kids fled. Sam smiled just a little and left too. For a while he'd worried that his parents would divorce over the stress, but not anymore. He went to his room and lay back on the bed, trying to think.
All he had to do was convince Rachel to go with him, and she'd totally fall in love with him. After all, what was more appealing and manly than hunting?
This would be easy.
*
Sam told Mercedes about his new plan at school on Monday, and her eyes widened so much he was a little worried that they'd fall out in a cartoonish manner. This wasn't a good sign.
"Are you crazy or just stupid, Blondie?" She shook her head. "No, no, you wouldn't know, would you? That was last year."
He wanted to protest that he knew plenty of stuff about the year before he joined Glee, because it kept coming back up and nearly ruining this year's Glee, but Mercedes went on before he could.
"Rachel's a vegan, Sam. You might as well ask her to go seal-clubbing or something. You are so lucky I caught you in time."
Before Sam could respond, Rachel appeared in that disconcerting way that she had of sneaking up on someone despite constantly radiating cheer.
"You wanted to ask me something, Sam?" she said brightly.
"I'm sure it can wait," Mercedes said, trying to save the situation, and when Rachel looked surprised, Mercedes fumbled for an excuse. "...Because I have something to ask you? About Glee?"
That was always the simplest excuse, and Rachel probably would have went for it, but Sam had spent all weekend trying to get this conversation right in his head and he blurted out, "Rachel, would you like to go... camping with me? In a few weeks?"
Rachel lit up in a way that made Sam really want to kiss her right there. "I haven't been camping in ages, but my two dads and I used to go every summer. What a wonderful offer, Sam! I'd love to."
Before he could dig a deeper hole, the bell rang and Rachel hurried off. The longer she lingered in the hallway, the more chance she had of being slushied. She'd shown Sam the graph she'd made, once.
"You are so screwed," Mercedes said, tone sympathetic, before leaving for her own class. Honestly, Sam agreed.
*
Sam didn't manage to talk himself into uninviting her over the next couple of weeks. He just kept picturing her happy face and chickened out. Mercedes tried to encourage him, but finally she gave up. He'd just have to sort this out himself.
The drive wasn't so bad. By lucky coincidence, Sam had convinced his dad to load the guns before Rachel showed up (at least, he'd call it coincidence). Sam's dad insisted on the classic rock radio station, but that just meant that Rachel spent most of the time trying to figure out how to arrange the songs for Glee. After all, as she told him, they were quite famous for their Journey covers, so there was potential.
Any time Sam's dad started to mention something about "the season" or "licenses" or God forbid, Rachel's gun experience, Sam interrupted and started waxing rhapsodic about the fun they'd have while camping. There was an awkward moment at a rest stop where Sam's dad made sure to reiterate the fact that Rachel was sleeping in her own tent. Affection was one thing, but hanky-panky was not encouraged, so his father said, embarrassingly. So that was embarrassing, but then Rachel came back to the truck all excited that there were organic granola bars in the vending machine, so his embarrassment was derailed by her excitement.
The first real hurdle came when they arrived at the campground and passed RV after RV after truck after car, all of which featured obvious gun or bow racks. Their site neighbors, an older couple, took a liking to Sam's dad immediately. While they were chattering about the best time to go out (the man favored early morning, while his wife liked late afternoon), Rachel grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him behind a nearby tree.
"Doeth your dad realize we're in the midtht of a gang of hunterth?" she said, clearly scandalized.
On the other side of the campsite, the old man said something about venison and the three adults laughed.
"Uh. Someone recommended this place," Sam began awkwardly.
"They'll hear you! When you're whithpering you're not thupposed to pronounce the..." She hesitated, and then drew the letter S backwards in the air. "It carrieth too well!"
Sam thought it made her sound like Porky Pig, but he wisely held his tongue. He was really beginning to believe that he should have found some way to call this off, and a snarky part of his consciousness echoed, "You think?"
"Right," he said. "Okay."
Sometimes Rachel was just... really weird. It didn't mean he liked her less, but it did make it difficult to know how to react.
He smiled, trying to be reassuring, and then his dad was calling, "Hey, lovebirds, you forgot your safety vests! Don't want to get shot now, do you?"
Yep. At the moment, Sam kinda would have welcomed the distraction.
They emerged from behind the tree and Sam's dad gave him a knowing wink before hauling out the neon vests. He admonished them to keep on the paths and wear the vests at all times when they were outside. They were otherwise free to wander around, meet the other campers, and appreciate nature. Responsibly.
Not seeming to get the possible implications of that last one, Rachel promised sincerely that they'd both be very good and dragged Sam off to investigate a trail she'd noticed when they'd arrived.
Three hours later, Sam was pretty sure he'd never hiked so much in his entire life. He'd occasionally camped when he was younger, but his family had always stayed near the campsite, and really they hadn't gone that much once the younger kids were born.
Rachel had boundless energy, it seemed like. She'd chattered constantly about the flora and fauna of Ohio, which had apparently been a big part of her biology class last year. She really loved animals, which Sam thought was sweet. It was no wonder she was vegan. If he loved a cow the way he'd loved his old dog Rover, he probably wouldn't eat meat either.
They returned to camp just in time to share dinner with Sam's dad. He'd made the fixings for tacos, and if he noticed that Rachel filled hers only with vegetables, he didn't say anything. After that, Sam's dad told them not to stay up too late. They were going to be out early tomorrow, after all.
"Maybe you'll bag a nice buck for the lady," he said, grinning at his son, before getting into their tent.
Sam and Rachel stared at each other for a long moment.
"If you manage to 'bag a nice buck,' Sam Evans, I shall never speak to you again. If you find it necessarily to eat meat products, I can respect this environmentally-damaging, unsympathetic choice, but hunting? Why did you even invite me?"
Her lips trembled and her eyes were wet. The fire crackled as Sam tried to find the right words.
"I wanted to spend time with you," he said. She set her jaw stubbornly.
"Clearly you don't know me at all," she said, turning on her heel and getting into her own tent, only temporarily thwarted by the need to unzip it first. If she could have slammed the tentflap, she would have.
Sam put his head in his hands and let the fire die down. When it went out, he poured the fire bucket over it for good measure and went to sleep in his dad's tent.
*
Rachel still wouldn't speak to him the next day. She was polite, if a bit distant, with Sam's dad -- he hadn't tried to deceive her, so he was in the clear, Sam assumed. Sam's dad seemed to chalk the silence up to tiredness and had no problem carrying on the conversation by himself.
After a cold breakfast, he got the guns out of the car and gave the kids a lengthy, serious lecture about safety. Rachel listened silently until he asked if they had questions. Then she raised her hand, and Sam's dad pointed at her, trying not to smile.
"I will not be firing any kind of firearm, I feel you should know. The safety lecture was quite useful and informative, however. Thank you."
"...Right," Sam's dad said, and off they trudged in the pre-dawn light. Sam wasn't sure if Rachel's lack of stealth stemmed from a desire to warn any approaching creatures, or if she simply didn't know how to be unnoticeable. Even though she was mad at him, he found himself sneaking glances at her regularly.
They finally found a good place and settled in to wait. Sam found himself fighting sleep as a combination of boredom and weariness settled in. He had no idea how he could make this up to Rachel, who was doing her best to endure without too much martyred sighing. Plus, Sam had to think about his dad. He'd been so excited to do this father-son thing and it wasn't his fault that Sam had brought someone who was morally opposed to his favorite sport. Basically, no matter what Sam did, he'd be disappointing someone he really cared about. It was like that part of The Dark Knight where Batman had to choose between his friends to desire who the Joker would kill. Only less violent and probably less scarring, unless the campfire really got away from them later.
Nothing much happened for the next couple of hours. Even Rachel couldn't sulk for that long, and she was mostly drawing pictures in the dirt with her foot and humming under her breath. Finally, he couldn't stand the silence any longer.
"I didn't know," Sam said to Rachel.
"Ssh," his dad cautioned, but Sam went on. "When I asked you, I didn't know you were vegan, and then I didn't know how to take it back. I'm sorry."
She didn't answer for a long moment. Sam's dad looked like he wanted to ask what 'vegan' was, but he held his tongue.
"You're thorry," Rachel said, almost reluctantly. Sam blinked.
"None of that letter when you're whispering, remember?" she said, and there was the smallest hint of a smile. Sam smiled back, and that's when his dad thumped him excitedly on the back.
A young buck had stepped into view, morning light on the spread of his horns. Sam wasn't really sure how to count points, but from the way his dad looked, there were probably a lot of them here.
"I'll let you have this one, son," his dad said, and Rachel gaped in horror. Sam lifted the gun and sighted. This was what they'd been waiting for, wasn't it? HIs heart was pounding and he felt a little sick to his stomach. Could he really do this?
He shut his eyes and fired. All forest sound stopped, except for the sound of one young deer bounding off into the underbrush. Sam barely stopped himself from sighing in relief, although he was sure Rachel saw it in his eyes.
They only stayed a couple more hours before they decided to call it a day. Sam was glad. The tension was too much now. He'd gone from being half-asleep to being too excited.
When they came back to camp, it was as if Rachel had switched back on. She was cheerful and bright, organizing a chores rota they didn't really need, considering they'd only be staying one more night. She even started talking to Sam again, and it wasn't so awkward.
Sam almost went to bed when his dad did. The early morning had worn him out. But Rachel suggested a moonlight stroll, and that was hard to turn down.
"I saw you," she said, interrupting his musings about possible moonlight-based superhoes, and he jumped a little.
"What?" he asked.
"I saw you. When your dad wanted you to fire, you shut your eyes." Her gaze was solemn in the half-dark.
"...Yeah," he admitted, still embarrassed. HIs dad hadn't really been upset, saying that it took time to get good at shooting, and they'd have to find a practice range nearer to home to visit.
Rachel made a squealing noise and then threw her arms around his neck. Dumb-founded, Sam inhaled her particular smell. She'd put on perfume in the woods. It was endearing somehow.
"I knew you wouldn't do it," she said in his ear. "Of course, given the opportunity to bond with your father in a post-homeless environment, and to show off for a pretty girl, you couldn't resist the invitation. But I knew you wouldn't kill Bambi's mother."
Sam opened his mouth to point out that they had been staring at a buck, so technically it would have been Bambi's dad, but for once his brain intervened and he said, "Of course not," hugging her back with his arms around her tiny waist. His hands felt like they belonged there on her lovely hips. She only pulled out of the hug enough that she could smile at him.
To be honest, he thought that she was right. He'd been glad when the deer ran away, and not just because Rachel would have been upset. He just wasn't sure that he wanted to be responsible for killing something bigger than, say, a spider. And those only because he didn't want to end up having to give up his MJ to save the world. Seriously, superheroes had serious angst when they caused someone's death (unless the dead were villains, but they'd be back in a few issues anyway). Sam was pretty sure it wasn't his thing. Maybe he and his dad could bond over shooting at a practice range or something. He wouldn't have to be sad about murdering targets on paper.
"How sweet!" Rachel said. Her gaze was shining and there was something in her eyes that told him to go for it. He leaned in and kissed her gently. Her hands tightened on his shoulders and she definitely kissed him back. He gave himself a mental high five.
"I thought that might have been your motivation when you asked me here with you," she admitted. "The woods can be quite romantic."
"You caught me," he said. Hand in hand, they meandered slowly back to the camp. On the way home, they sang all the duets on the radio. Rachel pronounced the mix of their voices unusual, but with definite potential. Sam's dad grinned at him in the rearview mirror. Sam smiled back.
He was so not doomed now. Accidentally or not, he'd won his crush. Totally worth it.
He was absolutely have to think of a better second date, though. He'd have to ask Rachel what she thought of Color Me Mine.
But for now, he sung along to classic rock, his arm around Rachel's shoulders, as they headed back to Lima.
Fandom: Glee
Length: 3431 words
Prompt: For the
g_aficexchange.Pairing: Sam/Rachel
Other: There are spoilers for The Dark Knight and the Spiderman comics in here, and some various other nerdery. This goes AU around Prom Queen and I hand-waved the actual timing of hunting season for the sake of the story.
Summary/Excerpt: Sam's dad recommended that he take his crush hunting in order to romance her. Too bad Rachel is, um, a vegan. Sam was beginning to realize that he was really, really bad at romance.
Sam was beginning to realize that he was really, really bad at romance. Maybe he was a little slow to pick up on it, but you couldn't blame him too much -- after all, Quinn had been his first girlfriend, which totally explained why he'd gotten a little carried away.
He was determined not to make the same mistake again, even if every time he looked at Rachel he pictured their future together, which somehow involved blonde twins (Luke and Leia, and he absolutely wasn't budging there) and Rachel's Broadway success. He wouldn't mind being her loyal house-husband and stay-at-home dad. He'd be there to massage her feet and listen to her complain about casting directors while the babies slept comfortably on their Star Wars sheets.
But that was later. Much later. He had to convince her to like him first, and that was proving to be a little difficult. Rachel still seemed to like Finn, inexplicably, and Sam toyed with the idea of being a loud-mouthed jerk for a while before he decided he couldn't play the part.
"You are really lucky to have me helping you out," Mercedes said fervently when he related his current Rachel-wooing plans. "You're just a little hopeless, you know that?"
She reached across the table and poked him in the nose, and Sam grinned in his chastisement. He was so glad that he'd gone to prom with Mercedes and Rachel. Now he had a new best girl friend in Mercedes, who was so much nicer than Quinn and didn't think that boys and girls couldn't be just friends. He had realized that he was head over heels for Rachel that night at prom, and when he worked up the courage to tell Mercedes, she'd been completely supportive, telling him that he was a much better choice than Jesse or Finn, by a landslide.
"She needs a romantic, Sam," Mercedes informed him, sipping at her iced coffee. They'd met at the Lima Bean so many times recently that Sam suspected he was getting a killer caffeine addiction. It was a good thing that his parents had found jobs and his pizza money was all his now. That would also help with date options.
Mercedes gestured as she went on, "This is Rachel we're talking about, after all. Asking her out in blue-cat-people language--"
"N'avi," Sam corrected, a little hurt.
"Right, whatever. My point is, that's not going to work. Make a big statement."
They pondered big statements as they drank. Mercedes suggested that he go home and watch his sister's copy of Enchanted for ideas. He neglected to mention that it was actually his own DVD. (And he wondered if he could pay steel drum players to serenade him and Rachel in the park.)
But he didn't really have any practical ideas before Kurt and Blaine came in for their weekly coffee date, and then he had to carefully dodge Kurt's little suggestions that Sam and Mercedes should date. The guy meant well, but there was no way he was going to tell Kurt about his crush on Rachel. Getting Mercedes to keep it a secret had been hard enough. And Mercedes was a great girl, Kurt was totally right, but she just wasn't right for Sam. He was sure she'd find her own awesome boyfriend soon. If Kurt didn't stop hinting, Sam himself would find someone to set her up with. He had a feeling that he'd do a better job than Kurt had.
All Sam knew was that he had to move fast if he wanted to beat Finn. Kurt told them that Finn had broken up with Quinn at Jean's funeral (seriously, he was a class act, wasn't he?). It was only a matter of time before he'd be chasing Rachel again.
When Sam came home later to the apartment his family was renting now, his dad burst into the living room with a bright smile on his face.
"This is the year, Sam!" he said cheerfully, clapping his son on the shoulder. Sam blinked in confusion. Stevie and Stacy turned from the TV and stared up hopefully.
"Uh, for what?" Sam asked. His dad had been really cheerful since he'd found the new job, but this was even more than usual.
"You remember that I promised to take you hunting, just like my dad did with me? Well, in a couple of weeks we're going to go. Won't that be exciting?"
Sam could think about ten other things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the brush in the dark watching for deer, but this was really important to his dad. He'd been devastated when he had to sell his hunting equipment during the bad times. He'd told his kids all the stories he had about hunting with Sam's grandpa. In fact, his favorite story was the one where he met his future wife at a campsite. She'd been a tomboy there with her own father.
That gave Sam an idea.
"Can I bring someone?" he asked. His father gave him a knowing glance.
"Got a girl you're after, huh? Two ways to win a woman's heart: rock ballads and hunting. Guaranteed."
"What's guaranteed?" Sam's mom asked, coming into the house and hanging her purse on the hook. She'd gotten a new job just days after her husband, and although that meant Sam walked home after school and picked up the little ones, he really didn't mind.
"Never gonna give you up," Sam's dad started singing, wrapping an arm around his wife. Giggling and shouting, "Eww!", the little kids fled. Sam smiled just a little and left too. For a while he'd worried that his parents would divorce over the stress, but not anymore. He went to his room and lay back on the bed, trying to think.
All he had to do was convince Rachel to go with him, and she'd totally fall in love with him. After all, what was more appealing and manly than hunting?
This would be easy.
*
Sam told Mercedes about his new plan at school on Monday, and her eyes widened so much he was a little worried that they'd fall out in a cartoonish manner. This wasn't a good sign.
"Are you crazy or just stupid, Blondie?" She shook her head. "No, no, you wouldn't know, would you? That was last year."
He wanted to protest that he knew plenty of stuff about the year before he joined Glee, because it kept coming back up and nearly ruining this year's Glee, but Mercedes went on before he could.
"Rachel's a vegan, Sam. You might as well ask her to go seal-clubbing or something. You are so lucky I caught you in time."
Before Sam could respond, Rachel appeared in that disconcerting way that she had of sneaking up on someone despite constantly radiating cheer.
"You wanted to ask me something, Sam?" she said brightly.
"I'm sure it can wait," Mercedes said, trying to save the situation, and when Rachel looked surprised, Mercedes fumbled for an excuse. "...Because I have something to ask you? About Glee?"
That was always the simplest excuse, and Rachel probably would have went for it, but Sam had spent all weekend trying to get this conversation right in his head and he blurted out, "Rachel, would you like to go... camping with me? In a few weeks?"
Rachel lit up in a way that made Sam really want to kiss her right there. "I haven't been camping in ages, but my two dads and I used to go every summer. What a wonderful offer, Sam! I'd love to."
Before he could dig a deeper hole, the bell rang and Rachel hurried off. The longer she lingered in the hallway, the more chance she had of being slushied. She'd shown Sam the graph she'd made, once.
"You are so screwed," Mercedes said, tone sympathetic, before leaving for her own class. Honestly, Sam agreed.
*
Sam didn't manage to talk himself into uninviting her over the next couple of weeks. He just kept picturing her happy face and chickened out. Mercedes tried to encourage him, but finally she gave up. He'd just have to sort this out himself.
The drive wasn't so bad. By lucky coincidence, Sam had convinced his dad to load the guns before Rachel showed up (at least, he'd call it coincidence). Sam's dad insisted on the classic rock radio station, but that just meant that Rachel spent most of the time trying to figure out how to arrange the songs for Glee. After all, as she told him, they were quite famous for their Journey covers, so there was potential.
Any time Sam's dad started to mention something about "the season" or "licenses" or God forbid, Rachel's gun experience, Sam interrupted and started waxing rhapsodic about the fun they'd have while camping. There was an awkward moment at a rest stop where Sam's dad made sure to reiterate the fact that Rachel was sleeping in her own tent. Affection was one thing, but hanky-panky was not encouraged, so his father said, embarrassingly. So that was embarrassing, but then Rachel came back to the truck all excited that there were organic granola bars in the vending machine, so his embarrassment was derailed by her excitement.
The first real hurdle came when they arrived at the campground and passed RV after RV after truck after car, all of which featured obvious gun or bow racks. Their site neighbors, an older couple, took a liking to Sam's dad immediately. While they were chattering about the best time to go out (the man favored early morning, while his wife liked late afternoon), Rachel grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him behind a nearby tree.
"Doeth your dad realize we're in the midtht of a gang of hunterth?" she said, clearly scandalized.
On the other side of the campsite, the old man said something about venison and the three adults laughed.
"Uh. Someone recommended this place," Sam began awkwardly.
"They'll hear you! When you're whithpering you're not thupposed to pronounce the..." She hesitated, and then drew the letter S backwards in the air. "It carrieth too well!"
Sam thought it made her sound like Porky Pig, but he wisely held his tongue. He was really beginning to believe that he should have found some way to call this off, and a snarky part of his consciousness echoed, "You think?"
"Right," he said. "Okay."
Sometimes Rachel was just... really weird. It didn't mean he liked her less, but it did make it difficult to know how to react.
He smiled, trying to be reassuring, and then his dad was calling, "Hey, lovebirds, you forgot your safety vests! Don't want to get shot now, do you?"
Yep. At the moment, Sam kinda would have welcomed the distraction.
They emerged from behind the tree and Sam's dad gave him a knowing wink before hauling out the neon vests. He admonished them to keep on the paths and wear the vests at all times when they were outside. They were otherwise free to wander around, meet the other campers, and appreciate nature. Responsibly.
Not seeming to get the possible implications of that last one, Rachel promised sincerely that they'd both be very good and dragged Sam off to investigate a trail she'd noticed when they'd arrived.
Three hours later, Sam was pretty sure he'd never hiked so much in his entire life. He'd occasionally camped when he was younger, but his family had always stayed near the campsite, and really they hadn't gone that much once the younger kids were born.
Rachel had boundless energy, it seemed like. She'd chattered constantly about the flora and fauna of Ohio, which had apparently been a big part of her biology class last year. She really loved animals, which Sam thought was sweet. It was no wonder she was vegan. If he loved a cow the way he'd loved his old dog Rover, he probably wouldn't eat meat either.
They returned to camp just in time to share dinner with Sam's dad. He'd made the fixings for tacos, and if he noticed that Rachel filled hers only with vegetables, he didn't say anything. After that, Sam's dad told them not to stay up too late. They were going to be out early tomorrow, after all.
"Maybe you'll bag a nice buck for the lady," he said, grinning at his son, before getting into their tent.
Sam and Rachel stared at each other for a long moment.
"If you manage to 'bag a nice buck,' Sam Evans, I shall never speak to you again. If you find it necessarily to eat meat products, I can respect this environmentally-damaging, unsympathetic choice, but hunting? Why did you even invite me?"
Her lips trembled and her eyes were wet. The fire crackled as Sam tried to find the right words.
"I wanted to spend time with you," he said. She set her jaw stubbornly.
"Clearly you don't know me at all," she said, turning on her heel and getting into her own tent, only temporarily thwarted by the need to unzip it first. If she could have slammed the tentflap, she would have.
Sam put his head in his hands and let the fire die down. When it went out, he poured the fire bucket over it for good measure and went to sleep in his dad's tent.
*
Rachel still wouldn't speak to him the next day. She was polite, if a bit distant, with Sam's dad -- he hadn't tried to deceive her, so he was in the clear, Sam assumed. Sam's dad seemed to chalk the silence up to tiredness and had no problem carrying on the conversation by himself.
After a cold breakfast, he got the guns out of the car and gave the kids a lengthy, serious lecture about safety. Rachel listened silently until he asked if they had questions. Then she raised her hand, and Sam's dad pointed at her, trying not to smile.
"I will not be firing any kind of firearm, I feel you should know. The safety lecture was quite useful and informative, however. Thank you."
"...Right," Sam's dad said, and off they trudged in the pre-dawn light. Sam wasn't sure if Rachel's lack of stealth stemmed from a desire to warn any approaching creatures, or if she simply didn't know how to be unnoticeable. Even though she was mad at him, he found himself sneaking glances at her regularly.
They finally found a good place and settled in to wait. Sam found himself fighting sleep as a combination of boredom and weariness settled in. He had no idea how he could make this up to Rachel, who was doing her best to endure without too much martyred sighing. Plus, Sam had to think about his dad. He'd been so excited to do this father-son thing and it wasn't his fault that Sam had brought someone who was morally opposed to his favorite sport. Basically, no matter what Sam did, he'd be disappointing someone he really cared about. It was like that part of The Dark Knight where Batman had to choose between his friends to desire who the Joker would kill. Only less violent and probably less scarring, unless the campfire really got away from them later.
Nothing much happened for the next couple of hours. Even Rachel couldn't sulk for that long, and she was mostly drawing pictures in the dirt with her foot and humming under her breath. Finally, he couldn't stand the silence any longer.
"I didn't know," Sam said to Rachel.
"Ssh," his dad cautioned, but Sam went on. "When I asked you, I didn't know you were vegan, and then I didn't know how to take it back. I'm sorry."
She didn't answer for a long moment. Sam's dad looked like he wanted to ask what 'vegan' was, but he held his tongue.
"You're thorry," Rachel said, almost reluctantly. Sam blinked.
"None of that letter when you're whispering, remember?" she said, and there was the smallest hint of a smile. Sam smiled back, and that's when his dad thumped him excitedly on the back.
A young buck had stepped into view, morning light on the spread of his horns. Sam wasn't really sure how to count points, but from the way his dad looked, there were probably a lot of them here.
"I'll let you have this one, son," his dad said, and Rachel gaped in horror. Sam lifted the gun and sighted. This was what they'd been waiting for, wasn't it? HIs heart was pounding and he felt a little sick to his stomach. Could he really do this?
He shut his eyes and fired. All forest sound stopped, except for the sound of one young deer bounding off into the underbrush. Sam barely stopped himself from sighing in relief, although he was sure Rachel saw it in his eyes.
They only stayed a couple more hours before they decided to call it a day. Sam was glad. The tension was too much now. He'd gone from being half-asleep to being too excited.
When they came back to camp, it was as if Rachel had switched back on. She was cheerful and bright, organizing a chores rota they didn't really need, considering they'd only be staying one more night. She even started talking to Sam again, and it wasn't so awkward.
Sam almost went to bed when his dad did. The early morning had worn him out. But Rachel suggested a moonlight stroll, and that was hard to turn down.
"I saw you," she said, interrupting his musings about possible moonlight-based superhoes, and he jumped a little.
"What?" he asked.
"I saw you. When your dad wanted you to fire, you shut your eyes." Her gaze was solemn in the half-dark.
"...Yeah," he admitted, still embarrassed. HIs dad hadn't really been upset, saying that it took time to get good at shooting, and they'd have to find a practice range nearer to home to visit.
Rachel made a squealing noise and then threw her arms around his neck. Dumb-founded, Sam inhaled her particular smell. She'd put on perfume in the woods. It was endearing somehow.
"I knew you wouldn't do it," she said in his ear. "Of course, given the opportunity to bond with your father in a post-homeless environment, and to show off for a pretty girl, you couldn't resist the invitation. But I knew you wouldn't kill Bambi's mother."
Sam opened his mouth to point out that they had been staring at a buck, so technically it would have been Bambi's dad, but for once his brain intervened and he said, "Of course not," hugging her back with his arms around her tiny waist. His hands felt like they belonged there on her lovely hips. She only pulled out of the hug enough that she could smile at him.
To be honest, he thought that she was right. He'd been glad when the deer ran away, and not just because Rachel would have been upset. He just wasn't sure that he wanted to be responsible for killing something bigger than, say, a spider. And those only because he didn't want to end up having to give up his MJ to save the world. Seriously, superheroes had serious angst when they caused someone's death (unless the dead were villains, but they'd be back in a few issues anyway). Sam was pretty sure it wasn't his thing. Maybe he and his dad could bond over shooting at a practice range or something. He wouldn't have to be sad about murdering targets on paper.
"How sweet!" Rachel said. Her gaze was shining and there was something in her eyes that told him to go for it. He leaned in and kissed her gently. Her hands tightened on his shoulders and she definitely kissed him back. He gave himself a mental high five.
"I thought that might have been your motivation when you asked me here with you," she admitted. "The woods can be quite romantic."
"You caught me," he said. Hand in hand, they meandered slowly back to the camp. On the way home, they sang all the duets on the radio. Rachel pronounced the mix of their voices unusual, but with definite potential. Sam's dad grinned at him in the rearview mirror. Sam smiled back.
He was so not doomed now. Accidentally or not, he'd won his crush. Totally worth it.
He was absolutely have to think of a better second date, though. He'd have to ask Rachel what she thought of Color Me Mine.
But for now, he sung along to classic rock, his arm around Rachel's shoulders, as they headed back to Lima.