Last Name
Title: Last Name
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Buffy, Dean
Crossover: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Spoilers: All of Buffy and Supernatural to be safe.
Summary: Buffy should remember that her and alcohol are un-mixy things - especially when there's a sex god incarnate named Dean nearby.
Disclaimer: "Supernatural" belongs to Kripke and the CW. "Buffy" belongs to Whedon. I own my laptop.
AN: This was written as a Secret Santa prezzie for sunriserooftops at ParadiseLost, and was inspired by the song "Last Name" by Carrie Underwood. A sequel is in the works.
~*~*~
"Come on, B, take another hit!" Faith cheered her sister Slayer on as Buffy hesitantly reached for another shot of tequila. With some more encouragement from Faith, she quickly downed the shot, savoring the burn it left in her mouth. It had been a rough few weeks at Slayer Central, and she and Faith had decided to do the road trip thing to unwind, which meant hitting up seedy bars and dancing up a storm between Slaying and driving. Fortunately--or unfortunately if you had Buffy's tolerance for alcohol--that unwinding came with a lot of booze.
"Enough with the tequila, Faith," Buffy pleaded, waving off another round of shots.
"Lightweight," Faith teased, snagging another glass and throwing the drink back. "You wanna hit the dance floor then, B? Like old times?" she added with a smirk.
"Sounds good to me," Buffy answered, glad the alcohol hadn't gone to her head yet. She and Faith moved to the center of the dance floor, bodies moving rhythmically to the music. For some rinky-dinky bar in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada, the DJ sure had some good taste in music.
"B, eye candy to the left checking you out," Faith whispered into Buffy's ear. Buffy peered and spotted... Holy shit, he was gorgeous! He was tall, with rugged good looks, smoldering hazel eyes, and he definitely was looking at her.
Buffy gave him a teasing look and then continued dancing, taunting him to come closer to her. Normally, she never would've done something like that, but all the tequila she had drank was making her bolder. Her keen hearing picked up the sound of footsteps coming closer and before long, two large hands were sliding around her stomach and she felt a large presence behind her.
"My, what do we have here?" she asked, turning her head around to meet his gaze.
"You should know better than to tease a man, babe," he muttered to her in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine. "Never know what he might do." Normally, Buffy would've knocked him on his ass for calling her that, but she was in a good mood tonight.
"Maybe I just aim to misbehave now and then," she replied, continuing to move her body to the music. "Maybe I just want a little fun tonight."
"Babe, I'll give you all the fun you can handle," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest. Buffy smirked at him and found herself being pulled closer to him, fitting her to his warm, firm body.
"So, you got a name?" she found herself asking. Hey, if she was going to be grinding against a guy, telling her his name was the least he could do.
"Dean," he answered. "What about you, Princess?"
"Buffy," she said. "And if you make fun of it, you can find yourself another dance partner."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Buffy."
A few more dances and a couple of drinks later, Buffy found herself leaving the bar, Dean's arm around her shoulder. Faith was still there, living it up with some freakishly tall guy with terrible taste in shirts. "That your car?" she asked, pointing to the black car ahead of them. It looked old, but shiny, her alcohol-infused brain concluded.
"Sure is, Princess," he replied, pride coloring his voice. She turned around to say something in reply, only to find herself pressed against the side of the car, Dean's body flush against hers, his mouth desperately seeking her mouth and finding it. Buffy grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer, eager to deepen the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, feeling his rough hands grab her and pull her closer to him. Finally, they had to break apart for air.
"So," she gasped, trying her best to catch her breath, "where to next?" He smirked at her, looking sexier by the minute.
"Oh I have a few ideas," he promised. "You up for the ride?" Buffy flashed him a grin before pulling him down for another kiss as an answer. Tonight was going to be a fun night.
~*~*~
What the hell was I thinking last night? Buffy thought to herself the next morning, refusing to open her eyes. Her head was pounding, her body was sore in places it hadn't been in a while, and she felt massively dehydrated. Last time I'm allowing Faith to get me wasted, she promised herself, debating on whether getting water was worth having the room spin on her. Making up her mind, she cracked her eyes open and tried to get out of the bed, only to find herself being held down by something. Panic rising, her eyes flew open, and she was greeted by the sight of a muscular, hot--not to mention naked--man lying next to her.
Buffy blinked a few times, trying to place where she was and who the hell he was. Bar...yes there was a bar, with music and dancing, and then Sex-god incarnate here showed up and then there was dancing and there was... Screwing her eyes closed, she dredged up her fuzzy memories of the previous night, ignoring her aching head. There was a car and making out and more drinking--dear Lord, how wasted was she?--and then... Elvis?
Wishing she could shake her head without it causing her to go into a hangover-coma, she carefully tried to dislodge herself without waking Dean--yeah, that was his name--up. It was surprisingly easy, and she wondered if it was due to Slayer stamina at work. Glancing around, she sighed in relief when it looked like her clothes from the night before were relatively intact, she started gathering them when a glint of gold caught her eye.
"Oh, God, please tell me this is a nightmare," she whispered quietly, hoping sleeping man-hunk would stay that way. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Buffy continued to stare in horror at the gold band on her left hand. Shit, shit, shit, she was screwed. She got dressed faster than she would've expected, given the circumstances, but soon found herself running into a rather large problem. She couldn't find her phone and it looked like the room phone was out of service. There was no way to call Faith and ask her to discreetly pick her up. Chewing her lip, Buffy quickly came to a decision.
"Sorry, Dean, dear, but desperate times call for desperate measures," she muttered under her breath, grabbing the keys that were conveniently on the dresser. Checking herself briefly in the mirror, she opened the door and slipped outside. She'd deal with this whole being married and not knowing her last name later. Right now, she needed to get away and fast. She'd find a way to get the car back to him in one piece. Taking a deep breath, she got in the car and drove away, wondering what the hell she was going to do next, but only one thought came to mind. Damn it, she thought angrily. I'm never going to hear the end of this from Faith.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Buffy, Dean
Crossover: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Spoilers: All of Buffy and Supernatural to be safe.
Summary: Buffy should remember that her and alcohol are un-mixy things - especially when there's a sex god incarnate named Dean nearby.
Disclaimer: "Supernatural" belongs to Kripke and the CW. "Buffy" belongs to Whedon. I own my laptop.
AN: This was written as a Secret Santa prezzie for sunriserooftops at ParadiseLost, and was inspired by the song "Last Name" by Carrie Underwood. A sequel is in the works.
~*~*~
"Come on, B, take another hit!" Faith cheered her sister Slayer on as Buffy hesitantly reached for another shot of tequila. With some more encouragement from Faith, she quickly downed the shot, savoring the burn it left in her mouth. It had been a rough few weeks at Slayer Central, and she and Faith had decided to do the road trip thing to unwind, which meant hitting up seedy bars and dancing up a storm between Slaying and driving. Fortunately--or unfortunately if you had Buffy's tolerance for alcohol--that unwinding came with a lot of booze.
"Enough with the tequila, Faith," Buffy pleaded, waving off another round of shots.
"Lightweight," Faith teased, snagging another glass and throwing the drink back. "You wanna hit the dance floor then, B? Like old times?" she added with a smirk.
"Sounds good to me," Buffy answered, glad the alcohol hadn't gone to her head yet. She and Faith moved to the center of the dance floor, bodies moving rhythmically to the music. For some rinky-dinky bar in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada, the DJ sure had some good taste in music.
"B, eye candy to the left checking you out," Faith whispered into Buffy's ear. Buffy peered and spotted... Holy shit, he was gorgeous! He was tall, with rugged good looks, smoldering hazel eyes, and he definitely was looking at her.
Buffy gave him a teasing look and then continued dancing, taunting him to come closer to her. Normally, she never would've done something like that, but all the tequila she had drank was making her bolder. Her keen hearing picked up the sound of footsteps coming closer and before long, two large hands were sliding around her stomach and she felt a large presence behind her.
"My, what do we have here?" she asked, turning her head around to meet his gaze.
"You should know better than to tease a man, babe," he muttered to her in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine. "Never know what he might do." Normally, Buffy would've knocked him on his ass for calling her that, but she was in a good mood tonight.
"Maybe I just aim to misbehave now and then," she replied, continuing to move her body to the music. "Maybe I just want a little fun tonight."
"Babe, I'll give you all the fun you can handle," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest. Buffy smirked at him and found herself being pulled closer to him, fitting her to his warm, firm body.
"So, you got a name?" she found herself asking. Hey, if she was going to be grinding against a guy, telling her his name was the least he could do.
"Dean," he answered. "What about you, Princess?"
"Buffy," she said. "And if you make fun of it, you can find yourself another dance partner."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Buffy."
A few more dances and a couple of drinks later, Buffy found herself leaving the bar, Dean's arm around her shoulder. Faith was still there, living it up with some freakishly tall guy with terrible taste in shirts. "That your car?" she asked, pointing to the black car ahead of them. It looked old, but shiny, her alcohol-infused brain concluded.
"Sure is, Princess," he replied, pride coloring his voice. She turned around to say something in reply, only to find herself pressed against the side of the car, Dean's body flush against hers, his mouth desperately seeking her mouth and finding it. Buffy grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer, eager to deepen the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, feeling his rough hands grab her and pull her closer to him. Finally, they had to break apart for air.
"So," she gasped, trying her best to catch her breath, "where to next?" He smirked at her, looking sexier by the minute.
"Oh I have a few ideas," he promised. "You up for the ride?" Buffy flashed him a grin before pulling him down for another kiss as an answer. Tonight was going to be a fun night.
~*~*~
What the hell was I thinking last night? Buffy thought to herself the next morning, refusing to open her eyes. Her head was pounding, her body was sore in places it hadn't been in a while, and she felt massively dehydrated. Last time I'm allowing Faith to get me wasted, she promised herself, debating on whether getting water was worth having the room spin on her. Making up her mind, she cracked her eyes open and tried to get out of the bed, only to find herself being held down by something. Panic rising, her eyes flew open, and she was greeted by the sight of a muscular, hot--not to mention naked--man lying next to her.
Buffy blinked a few times, trying to place where she was and who the hell he was. Bar...yes there was a bar, with music and dancing, and then Sex-god incarnate here showed up and then there was dancing and there was... Screwing her eyes closed, she dredged up her fuzzy memories of the previous night, ignoring her aching head. There was a car and making out and more drinking--dear Lord, how wasted was she?--and then... Elvis?
Wishing she could shake her head without it causing her to go into a hangover-coma, she carefully tried to dislodge herself without waking Dean--yeah, that was his name--up. It was surprisingly easy, and she wondered if it was due to Slayer stamina at work. Glancing around, she sighed in relief when it looked like her clothes from the night before were relatively intact, she started gathering them when a glint of gold caught her eye.
"Oh, God, please tell me this is a nightmare," she whispered quietly, hoping sleeping man-hunk would stay that way. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Buffy continued to stare in horror at the gold band on her left hand. Shit, shit, shit, she was screwed. She got dressed faster than she would've expected, given the circumstances, but soon found herself running into a rather large problem. She couldn't find her phone and it looked like the room phone was out of service. There was no way to call Faith and ask her to discreetly pick her up. Chewing her lip, Buffy quickly came to a decision.
"Sorry, Dean, dear, but desperate times call for desperate measures," she muttered under her breath, grabbing the keys that were conveniently on the dresser. Checking herself briefly in the mirror, she opened the door and slipped outside. She'd deal with this whole being married and not knowing her last name later. Right now, she needed to get away and fast. She'd find a way to get the car back to him in one piece. Taking a deep breath, she got in the car and drove away, wondering what the hell she was going to do next, but only one thought came to mind. Damn it, she thought angrily. I'm never going to hear the end of this from Faith.