InsaneJournal

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Sam was glad it was Jo that had appeared, the sense of comfort and reassurance that had come right along with her scent was a warm reminder that she was his favourite, no contest, and he was so at ease in her presence that he wasn't even remotely self-conscious about how he looked right then. With his stomach growling the way it had he hadn't even paused to get his hair under control and it looked obvious that he'd just rolled out of bed without taking the time to groom himself to any degree. Jo wasn't going to care about that, not when she looked much the same herself and still in her pyjamas for that matter. This felt right, this kind of easy and effortless comfort around one another and it made Sam's all that much warmer and more genuine.

"Always," he said, waving her over and checking he had what they needed to get started on the breakfast his stomach was telling him was very much needed with increasing persistence. Right now he felt like he could eat a horse, maybe even something bigger, but they would have to settle for what they could rustle up here in the kitchen. Not that Sam would actually eat a horse, obviously. "I'd ask if you slept well but I can see for myself that you did." She was close enough by then that he could raise an arm to ruffle her tousled hair with one hand and a mischievous smile, fully anticipating a retaliation of some sort but more than ready to receive it.

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It was something Sam wanted all the time as well, that comfort and familiarity and reassurance, that warmth and sense of security and trust that he felt in Jo's presence the instant she stepped through the door and into the kitchen. It felt so natural, so right, and with that sense came one resounding word that filled his heart and his mind, so pure and brilliant that there was no denying or ignoring it: pack. This was where he belonged, with Jo and the others, and this was where he would always be. This was home.

With a disbelieving little laugh he dropped his bottom jaw in a show of incredulity that was ruined by the amusement that shone in his eyes at the same time. "Make sure you take your own advice, while you're at it." That poke to the ribs drove a laugh out of him, a free and happy sound even as he took one of the pans from Jo and responded to her bump with a small playful growl that had no real animal resonance behind it. "Pushy," he said to her without any real bite to the word. The eggs were retrieved from their place and he set the carton on the counter beside the stove. "If you're doing the bacon," he began, "and I'm doing the eggs, who's on toast duty? We can't neglect toast duty, that one's vital."

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Pack was family, pack was home, it was comfort and security, warmth and happiness. Sam could feel all of that in his house, under this roof and within these walls, and it felt so right that it was impossible to be anything but content and at peace. Adding in good company only made things better and it was so easy to be relaxed and happy around Jo, easier than it was with anyone else he felt without them even stepping into the kitchen to confirm his suspicions. It was just the two of them for now though he wouldn't be surprised if the smells of cooking food brought someone else down before too long.

"Give or take," he said as he held his hands out a little as if to say I can't help being moderately tall. "You're small enough to work around me, we both know it, so that's not as good an excuse as you think it is." After briefly pointing an accusatory finger at her for that and tossing her another grin Sam retrieved a couple of eggs from the carton to crack them open into the pan after readying it so they wouldn't stick while they were cooking. Now they just had to wait for things to cook, always the worst part when you felt like you could eat the entire contents of the kitchen.

"So," he said, closing the carton up after adding a couple more eggs to the pan because it was better to have too much than not enough and nothing had a healthier appetite than a hungry wolf, "what's on the agenda for you today? Or do you get to hang around dressed like a hobo all day?" Sam grinned again, looking her up and down with an amused light in his eyes, already ready to try and hop back out of her way when the inevitable swat came in his direction.

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"Hey no, why do I have to be Demi? Your hair is way more appropriate for that role." If he thought he'd have a shot he would have aimed another ruffle her way at that remark but he wasn't going to take that chance. Jo was faster than she looked, wily too, and he wasn't entirely sure she couldn't take him if it came right down to that. It was way too early for that. Maybe later, after breakfast. When she moved to stand behind him he voiced another hey and swatted at her with a laugh, twisting to give her a playful and thoroughly harmless shove, a quiet little growl rolling in the base of his throat. "I am so sitting right in front of you next time we try to watch a movie or something. You've asked for it."

The punch in the arm had him dropping his bottom jaw again, looking her way with disbelief and shock that was once again ruined by the amusement that flashed through his eyes. "The hobo look is always in, didn't you know?" he retorted, adopting an expression that implied her lack of knowledge was nothing short of embarrassing. Taking a moment to give the eggs in the pan some attention so they wouldn't all clump together and make some sort of bizarre super egg he went on to say, "I wear the whole hobo thing better anyway," with an up-and-down gesture at himself that was meant to back up the statement.

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Jo's retort about bringing the Demi reference on himself was met with a low quiet snort that might have seemed just outright dismissive to most but if anyone was going to hear the amusement beneath it that person was standing right beside him now. Jo had a way of understanding him better than anyone else, he knew that as certain as he knew his own name just by looking at her now. "Hey now," he said, lifting a hand to point at her in a kind of warning, "spoilers are a special kind of evil. Not even you would stoop that low." Would she? Sam didn't think so but it was kind of impossible to tell, especially so early in the morning when his brain felt more than a little fogged up from sleep.

With another scoff of disbelief and indignation after tending to the eggs again he turned back to her, waving a hand up and down the length of her to encompass the outfit she was wearing. "Pyjamas or not this is a hobo getup, you can't say it's not. I won't hear it." Sam was trying so hard not to laugh as he said that, so hard, but it was borderline impossible. What he wasn't saying was that it wasn't a terrible look on her because Jo had this way of wearing just about anything and being able to pull it off. How she did that he had no idea. "On a positive note," he said, changing the subject but fully expecting her to swing it right back around again, "you haven't eaten any of the bacon, the toast is probably ready, and the eggs are done." That was cause enough for celebration, especially given how much his stomach was growling.

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Sam made a good-natured noise of feigned frustration at her clarification, waving his hand at her in what many might have seen as dismissive but was actually more playful than anything. "If it comes down to that I will have vengeance, do not doubt me." If she hadn't snapped at his finger he might have pointed at her again but he wasn't taking any chances. Jo was small but she was quick and you'd have to be an idiot to say otherwise.

With a laugh Sam shook his head. "I can't stop looking like that until I put something in here to fill the hole." With one hand he patted his stomach even though his eyes were on the stove and the completion of the eggs cooking in the pan he was in charge of. When she mentioned coffee he lifted his head, his gaze alone with it, and made a quiet ah noise under his breath. "That," he began, holding the spatula he was using up a little and bobbing it up and down, "I did not do. I forgot. Try not to hate me too much."

The eggs were done and to emphasise as much he turned off the plate they were cooking over and shifted the pan a little so the residual heat wouldn't make them too hard for the dunking of toast or bacon, whichever they preferred. "We could always be a little healthier and drink juice but I feel like using words like healthy sort of goes against the whole-- well, you know, this." The same spatula was used to gesture at the entirety of their undeniably indulgent breakfast.

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They were cool slippers, infinitely more awesome than Sam's bare feet, that was for sure. "We'll see about that," he said to her, his eyes narrowing as if he already had some devious scheme in mind when really nothing could be farther from the truth. In order to get his own back, actually catch Jo off guard, he'd have to do some careful planning. That would take time. It would be worth it though, if he could have his vengeance and leave them both laughing and in high spirits then it would be time well spent.

With the plates on the table Sam had to carry the pan for the eggs there as well to dish them up, dishing them out evenly so they could be placed wherever they wanted them in relation to the rest of their breakfast. The pan finished with he carried it back into the kitchen and deposited it in the sink to be dealt with later. Maybe much later depending on how lazy breakfast and full stomachs made them feel. "Hey, come on, you're one to talk." The words were spoke with a laugh and the same amused look of incredulity on his face that he felt like he'd been wearing for the entirety of their interaction so far. "I had to learn these bad habits somewhere, didn't I? Obviously they were all you, you can't escape that."

Sam took his seat after Jo did, settled on the corner so they were close together but could still converse easily without turning their heads or twisting in their chairs. "Now who's looking like they would eat a horse, huh?" he teased as he reached for the toast as well, almost grabbing the same piece Jo went for before taking the piece underneath instead. The bacon was next, nestled nicely next to the eggs so the broken yolk would run down to coat them nicely. "Or maybe I should say pig given all the bacon. I think you would actually eat an entire pig if it trotted in here now, the poor thing wouldn't stand a chance."

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She was right to think of it as empty. Sam might make threats but he could never carry them out with someone he cared about as much as he did Jo. Not only could she take him if it ever came down to that sort of thing -- and of that he was sure, his height had nothing on her willpower -- but she was quite possibly his favourite person in the whole world. All the same he kept on making those threats because it was part of the back and forth that amused them both so much. It was part of their routine, part of them, and Sam wouldn't change that for anything.

That self-satisfied grin had him rolling his eyes but the gesture was quickly followed by a smirk of his own. "I still maintain the pigs started it," he said, shrugging and lifting his arms a little at his sides to emphasise the motion before he reached for some juice. Not once so far had he taken any notice of the scars on his arms -- and there were several, both on his left and on his right, distinct and unmistakable -- or thought them unusual in any way, simply accepting them silently as part of who and what he was. They had always been there, hadn't they? Why make a fuss?

"If you ask me," he said, returning the glass of juice to its place on one of the coasters, because Jo's mother would not thank him for not using one, "this is just revenge for all the trouble they've started." When he said this he picked up a piece of bacon and held it aloft with an expression that was intended to be stern but broke quickly enough into a smile. Sam wasted little time after that in taking a bite of said bacon. "That and it's not our fault they taste so good."

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"Maybe those people are werepigs, did anyone ever think of that?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth Sam found them hilarious and had to bow his head over as he laughed. With a shake of his head he lifted it again and briefly covered his mouth. "Okay, something like a boar or a warthog, all jokes aside, I can kind of understand, but imagine turning into a pig? Wow."

Knowing his luck he would meet one later that day, or tomorrow, or some day very soon, and then he would have to eat his words. All thoughts of doing such a thing were scattered by Jo's questions about how they tasted and he felt his face shift into an expression that was a mixture of concern and very minor disgust. "First of all? Ew. Gross." He had picked up his fork by then and pointed it lightly in her direction for emphasis. "I'm not even speculating about how we taste because that just invites all kinds of nastiness. And how would we even know who was right? No thank you."

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Oops. He certainly hadn't meant to almost choke Jo on her food. Sam waved a hand in her direction as a kind of apology for that as he set down the cutlery he was holding in his other hand so he wouldn't accidentally send it sailing through the air. There was probably some sort of warning to kids about playing with cutlery just like there was for running with scissors. As soon as Jo mentioned oinking at the moon Sam cracked again, whatever control he'd managed to pull together scattered completely at the mental image that conjured up. "Oh God, no, I can do without the hybrid form, thank you very much." Because wow that was some nightmare fuel right there.

"Hey, I never know with you," he retorted, reclaiming his fork from beside the plate so he could get back to work on the bacon and eggs before he decided he wanted to eat a piece of toast instead, maybe dunk it in the yolk. "Who knows what goes through that head of yours?" He waved the piece of toast her way with eyes narrowed in what was meant to be suspicion but probably came across looking much more comical than he intended. "Diabolical, that's a good word for it. You're a veritable evil mastermind."

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Sam had to fight not to react obviously and exaggeratedly to Jo's remark about oinking, waving his hand at her again to try and make her stop so he could eat his breakfast without imminent risk of choking. This had to be a regular occurrence for them, cracking one another up over some meal or activity or another, it came so naturally and felt so right that it had to be something they did on frequently.

"Boring?" Never," he countered with a shake of his head, mopping up some of his errant spilled yolk with a torn piece of toast. "Like I said, diabolical, but never boring." Not in his eyes at least. "Would I hang out with you so much if you were boring?" Because there was no denying he spent a majority of his time with her over everyone else. Some people might have had something to say about that but let them talk. They could think whatever they wanted as far as he was concerned. "Wait, actually, that kind of makes me sound like your evil sidekick. Henchman? Is that the word?" Sam fought not to smile and laugh, shaking his head. "I'm not so sure I like where this is going anymore."

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It was a sentiment they shared, that desire to see the other happy, Sam certainly felt it every day and seeing a smile on Jo's face and hearing her laugh made him feel good about himself in a way little else could. Perhaps that was strange, that hinging of his own emotional state on hers, but to Sam it simply felt like the way things had always been.

"Okay," he conceded, setting down what he'd been holding, "superheroes is probably a better one, don't even ask why I didn't automatically go there." There was a laugh in his voice as he said as much and he leaned back in his chair a little with a shake of his head. "And if we both get to be superheroes and neither one if the Robin to the other's Batman? Even better." Sam smiled at that, almost a grin, and laughed again. "If you start dressing like Wonder Woman, though? I might have to get you some help."

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"No, I don't think you would." Like the answer, that was, because Sam wasn't entirely convinced he would like it for himself. "Batman sucks?" Sam lifted his head and looked at her in shock, as if unable to believe what she'd said. "You'd better not mean that or we're going to have a problem. Unless we're talking the really old one who had all the sound effect shots pop up on the screen because I'd agree with you then, but otherwise? Take that back." The fact that there was a trace of a smile on his face while he spoke sort of ruined the implied threat of the whole thing.

With a fresh laugh he said, "Hey, no, if you're going to dress like Wonder Woman you have to go all the way, same colours and everything. No doing this thing by halves. What are we, amateurs?" He'd debated saying animals but that would have been too on the nose, even for them. "So what would your superhero name be?"

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