Jack sat in the beanbag chair in Sam’s dorm room watching her gather what appeared to be completely random items. “So there’s a werewolf-”

“Werewolves actually”

“-on campus, and you and the unicorn are going to stop them.” It was sort of hard not to believe her, considering he’d just been face to horn with an honest-to-God unicorn, but still.

“Eh, for some definitions of ‘stop’.” Sam stared pensively at the jumble of supplies, then just started dumping everything into the backpack willy-nilly.

“As in ‘kill’?” Jack tried not to be alarmed at the number (and variety) of weaponry at Sam’s disposal.

“As in ‘stern talking to’.” Sam pocketed at least three different pepper sprays and Jack made a very distinct mental note never to annoy her. Ever.

“And that works?”

“Dunno, haven’t done werewolves before.” Sam looked pensive. “But it works with dhampires and brownies, and very small dragons.”

“Dragons?” And he didn’t quite squeak.

“Very small ones.” She shouldered the backpack and grinned at him. “Ready to go?”

“No?”

She gave him a measuring look. “Well, Fluffy was rather adamant about you sticking with me till this thing’s resolved, and I’d hate to loose a possible love interest because of goring.”

“He wouldn’t really– wait, ‘love interest’?”

“Hey, if I have to be the mystical chosen one with the talking horse, the least I can do is follow the script, now come on farmboy, we’re off to slay the dragon!” She offered him a hand.

“Werewolves.” But he reached up and let her pull him out of the beanbag chair. “You’re cute, but you’re crazy, you know that?”

“Mmm, sounds better my way.” Sam grinned and headed out the door. “To victory!”