Burning Memories - Chapter 4 (Buffy/Dean)
Title: Burning Memories
Author: Lisa
Status: Completed
Chapter List: Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Epilogue
Rating: R (for violence, language and sexual situations)
Fandom: Supernatural/BtVS Crossover
Pairing: Buffy/Dean
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: Illusions are a devils game that blur the black and white lines to gray. Evil is back, but which form will it appear in?
Spoilers: All season of BtVS are fair game along with all episodes of SPN up to “Everyone Loves a Clown”
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright The CW Network. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended. “To make everything right is for God to just reach out and turn off the light!” is taken from a modern day nursery rhyme by Shel Silverstein, no infringement intended.
Distribution: Not without permission from myself.
AN: Huge thanks to danishafer for beta'ing this chapter for me. Any mistakes are mine. Feedback is love!
“Live for The Music” by Bad Company filled the noisy bar. Buffy and Dean clinked their shot glasses together before slamming back the amber colored tequila shot. Buffy giggled as she placed the glass on the table that already had four empty shot glasses and two beers on its chipped surface.
Dean aimed the dart; swaying slightly before flicking it toward the board. “Shit.” He mumbled when the dart hit the cork backboard.
“You throw like a girl!” Buffy gave him a shit-eating grin.
Dean flipped her off as he picked up the beer the waitress had just deposited on their table. “Least I don’t assault the patrons.”
The mischief in her eyes passed as her jaw dropped slightly. “He… he totally walked into my shot.” Her voice was indigent as she jutted out her full lower lip and pouted at him.
“Bullshit.” Dean walked over to her placing the palms of his hands on either side of the bar chair she was perched on, effectively blocking her escape. He suppressed a groan as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth and sucked slightly on it.
She watched with interest as his eyes darkened from a normal rich green to a forest green. Her lips quirked into a sly smile; she quickly ducked under his arm grabbing his wrist. “C’mon.”
“Slow the hell down.” He stumbled slightly when she spun him around into a dark corned of the bar. “I better be getting lucky.”
Buffy nodded her head; her blonde hair tickled his neck as she pressed her small body against the hard plans of his chest. “Very lucky.”
His head rolled back as her warm tongue licked along his jaw line. Hands gliding down her body, he pulled her against him. Letting out a moan, his head hit the wall as she rolled her hips against his. “Jesus woman. Your room or mine?” He growled out in a gasp.
“Neither.” Buffy arched her neck as Dean’s lip attacked her collarbone causing a warm shiver to race through her body. Her jaw dropped and her lips formed an ‘o’. “Oh god.” Her fingers dug into his shoulder as she grinded against him. He moaned a small smile graced her lips. “Your Daddy liked it rough too.”
Dean’s back stiffened and his hands stop their venture on her firm ass. “What the hell are you talking about?” With his jaw clenched he scowled down at her.
“What?” Her eyes widen with innocence. “Ellen didn’t tell you about John and I?” Laughing she shook her head. “Huh. Now this is an interesting turn of events wouldn’t you say?” She felt his muscles tighten like a cat ready to pounce, her hand grabbed his arms and pinned them to his sides. “Now… now… play nicely.”
Dean struggled to push her off but her grip wouldn’t budge. “How the hell do you know my father?”
“Oh we knew each other really well.” Her sculpted brows rose before she winked at him.
“Get the fuck off of me.” He growled out the words as he struggled against her steel grip.
“No. If you want your brother to make it through the night you’ll shut the fuck up! You Winchesters. Think you’re so smart hunting down demons and spirits. You aren’t even in the big leagues yet and you think you can destroy it. Poor little Dean found his father and couldn’t keep him alive. He begged for your life you know.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The words were clipped as they spewed from his mouth like hot acid and he wished that he had told Sammy where he had gone.
“To make everything right is for God to just reach out and turn off the light!”
“Great, I’m stuck with some crazy bitch. Just my luck.” He rolled his eyes as he rested the back of his head against the wood paneled wall.
Buffy shot her hand out and wrapped it tightly around Dean’s neck. “Now really isn’t the time to piss me off.”
“Not fucking scaring me, you’re forgetting I saw you fight tonight.” His jaw clenched as she laughed loudly.
“Please. You think a guy like your father would hook up with a hunter that didn’t have a little something special? John liked to live on the edge. I would’ve killed him sooner if he hadn’t left so soon. It hurt Mommy’s feelings.” Tightening her grip on his she leaned forward.
Dean used his free arm to try and break the hold the blonde had on his neck. He coughed trying to get a gulp of air.
“John didn’t die due to some car accident injuries; he died to save your ungrateful ass. Kinda put what you call a monkey wrench in my plans though. You see. You all were supposed to die. Now I guess I’ll have to knock you down one at a time.” Her red lips parted before they turned into a feral smile. “I think I’ll start with Sam. A little payback for Meg.”
“You’re fucking working with the demon!”
“No princess. I am the fucking demon.” Her eyes flashed yellow briefly before they returned to their normal mossy green color. A smirk escaped her lips as she watched his eyes widen in horror. “I think I’ll go see how Sammy’s doing.” Buffy tightened her grip on his neck and watched as he passed out. “For God to just reach out and turn off the light.”
She took a step forward before she vanished leaving only a small glow behind.
~*~
Buffy picked up the leather journal that fell out of Sam’s canvas bag. She had been in search of a knife that dropped when she tossed Sam’s bag to the ground the journal had fallen at her feet. Her fingers skimmed over the worn leather binding, she took a quick look around before she un-snapped the clasp.
The smell of coffee and bourbon invaded her nostrils as she opened the journal. Her emerald eyes scanned the notes on the side and stopped at a piece of worn paper that was stuck in one of the pockets. A small corner protruded from behind an old-style compass. She chewed her lip as she tried to decide if she should pull it out. There was nothing unique about the corner but she felt compelled to it. Quickly she pulled the paper out and carefully unfolded it. She gazed at the scrolled handwritten note.
‘John Winchester,
May you always find your way back to me from whatever post they send you to. I’ll be waiting for your return.
Always,
Mary
xoxo’
Color drained from her face while she felt light headed. Slowly she swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat. The name ‘John Winchester’ jumped off the paper at her. Her heart constricted and she glanced at the cheap motel the three were holed up in. Dean and Sam were the sons that John was trying to protect.
Reaching up, Buffy closed the van hatch before turning toward Sam and Dean's room, but paused. When she had been eavesdropping, Dean and Sam had talked about their father being dead.
“Shit.”
~*~
Sam sat hunched over his computer while he scanned the article that he had found on the Internet. It contained information about when the carnival had started up. His gaze was pulled away from the laptop screen as the door of their motel room swung open, the hinges rattling from the force.
“What the hell?” Sam mumbled, looking up as a very pissed off Buffy scowled at him.
A cool breeze rushed into the room from the open door, sending his research fluttering around the room. “Thanks,” Sam snarled out the words, exhausted from a night of research, “you going to help me clean up this mess now?”
Buffy stood her ground, not moving a muscle to help. “Where is he?” Her voice, void of any pleasantries carried through the small room. The blonde watched with interest as Sam stood up, his tall frame towering over her own.
“Who? Dean?” Sam asked as his eyes widened in confusion. Since when did the blonde care where his older brother was? “I thought you had enough of him for the night.” With a knowing smirk Sam folded his arms across his chest. His brother would a get a kick out of knowing that she was inquiring as to his whereabouts.
“No, moron! John!” Buffy grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the lava lamp that was perched on a painted white dresser and tossed it across the room. The lamp crashed against the green painted wall, denting it before the glass exploded sending small shards of glass raining down. The thick orange translucent wax clung to the wall before it slowly slid down, staining the white shag carpet.
“Where is your father Sam? And I’m not talking the one you claim is dead to mislead anyone looking for him. I know how much it pisses him off when unwanted guests track him down.” Buffy took a steadying breath to control her heart rate. She fondly remembered the fabricated stories the two had come up with in case someone, or something, had captured the other. “I’m not going to ask you again. Where’s John Winchester?”
His spine stiffened at the mention of his father’s name and he took a tentative step away from the blonde. “How the hell do you know my father?”
“We hunted together for a few months.” Buffy frowned at his blank expression. Rolling her eyes she pulled the leather bound journal that had been tucked safely under the back of her pants and tossed him John’s journal. “Read for yourself.”
Sam shook his head in disbelief as he caught the book in his right hand. “You went snooping through my bag?”
“That’s what you want to get hung up on? Me snooping?” Buffy let out a deep breath. “I don’t think how I found the journal is really the key here.”
“Man, what kind of scam are you pulling ?”
She ignored the jab and folded her arms across her chest, turning to rest her hip against the dresser. “I knew there was something about you and your brother that was familiar.” Smirking she looked back at him. “You have his eyes and Dean… gods help us all, Dean has his mouthy attitude.” Her eyes cast downwards as Sam looked increasingly upset. “Explains why Ellen was so hell bent on getting me to go on this hunting trip. Would’ve been easier if she just told me where John was. John Winchester’s infamous sons, he talked about you guys so much.” Her voice sobered.
“Funny he never mentioned you.” The brunette tossed the leather journal onto the small table that had been turned into a desk over the past two days.
Buffy winced. “Just… are you meeting up with him later? I’ve got some information to share with him and when you do talk to him tell him I’m pissed for how he left.”
“Left?” Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I already told you what happened.”
“Yes left. A note on my pillow with something that only a Winchester would think was an apology.” Buffy pushed herself of the dresser wall and stalked toward Sam. “He sucked at apologies and apparently you suck at lying cause I know he’s not dead.” Buffy grabbed Sam’s cell phone that was sitting on the corner of the table and shoved it into his chest. “Call him.”
“I-Ican’t.”
“Yes you can. Just punch in the numbers and wait for him to pick up, a five year old could manage.” Buffy refused to believe John was dead. She would’ve received his package containing all their research on the demon. She hadn’t. That had to be a sign that he was still alive. Right?
“Don’t think so sweetheart.” Dean’s voice was husky, his trachea bruised from the blondes vise like grip. He cocked his shotgun and pointed it at Buffy who currently had his brother cornered against a wall.
Buffy spun her head around to look at the intruder. Dean stood in the doorway of their motel room his eyes cold and an angry red mark marred his neck. She could see his body tremble slightly with what she assumed was anger. Great, just my luck.
“Sammy she’s a demon.” Dean flicked his gaze toward his younger brother for a brief moment before he returned his attention to the blonde demon that had knocked him out.
“Dean, man what are you doing?” Sam looked at his brother as though he had gone crazy, which given the night was a strong possibility.
“Demon!” Buffy turned her body fully to look at Dean. She had been called a lot of things while being the Slayer but that one had to top the cake. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Hit the bottle a little too much tonight Dean? Cause you’re sounding a lot like a crazy person.”
“We hit the tequila bottle about thirty minutes ago.” Dean took a step closer to the couple, his hard gaze fixed on Buffy.
“Man, what are you talking about?” Sam was officially stuck in the twilight zone and his head was beginning to feel the affects.
“She’s a demon Sammy. Been working with the thing that killed mom. It knocked me out before I could warn you.” He clipped the words out and motioned his head to the side. “Now move away from it.”
Her annoyed sigh filled the silence “Okay, I’m not an it, my name is Buffy and I didn’t even know Mary.” The moment the words had tumbled out of her mouth she wished she had kept silent. The scowl on Dean’s face deepened and she heard Sam’s boot hit the papers that had fallen on the ground as he shuffled away.
Sam shot his brother a questioning look. His brother shook his head. “We never told you her name. How did you know that?”
“John.” Buffy shot Sam a look before her green eyes looked back at Dean. “He told me and if you put the gun down we could talk about this.” She flinched as Dean lifted the shotgun, ready to take aim. “In a civilized manner.” Images of Warren shooting her flashed in her mind, she wouldn’t have Willow to save her this time.
A snort filled the air and Dean scowled. “He told you that before or after you screwed him?”
“Excuse me? I never slept with John! Ew… he’s like fifty!” Buffy paused as she made a sour face. “I mean I know I’ve gone for older guys but… if you’ve seen them you’d completely understand. Well preserved.”
“Not the song you were singing earlier when you humping me like a bitch in heat!” He watched as Buffy shot him a look, as he smirked arrogantly back at her.
“Okay, can you possible be more into yourself? And when were you with this imaginary Buffy?” A curved eyebrow arched at him, questioning his comment. “I’ve been in my room all night.”
Dean tilted his head as he lined up his shot. “You aren’t going to play be me again.”
Buffy jumped up on the corner of the patterned bedspread that covered the mattress. She bounced off and leapt into the air with grace.
She felt the gun shot wiz by her shoulder before she heard the loud ‘crack’ noise that followed. One boot-covered foot made contact with the side of the wall, and she heard him cock the gun as she sidestepped the gun. Her legs bent into a crouch before she shot herself through the air, spiraling her body toward Dean before he could move. Buffy grabbed the gun and tore it from his hands before she landed on her feet; she spun the gun around pointing the offensive metal at him. “There.” She smiled at the shocked expression on Dean’s face. “I like this playing field a bit better.” Buffy tossed her golden locks off of her face. “I have a slight aversion to guns. Getting shot and flat lining can make a girl a little uncomfortable.”
The tension in her voice rose. “Now, your little brother wasn’t in the mood for share time but maybe you are. Where’s your father?”
“What kind of fucked up mind game are you playing sweetheart? You know exactly where he is.” Dean shoved the barrel of the gun away from his chest.
Buffy allowed him to move the gun without resisting. “If I did would I really be wasting my time with you two?”
“Screw you!” Dean swung his fist out.
Buffy ducked and hit him in the gut with the butt of the gun and as he doubled over she slammed the side of the shotgun into his throat. He sputtered for breath and she felt a pang of regret at his pained look. “Listen to me you moron! Just tell me where’s John is?”
Sam moved cautiously forward, trying to stay as quiet as he could. If Dean said she was working with the demon then she was and she moved too fast to be human.
Meg had manipulated him the same way. Grinding his teeth together he pulled a Glock from the back of his pants. He took a deep breath before he lunged forward, slamming the butt of the gun against her temple. Sam watched as she crumpled into a small heap at his feet.
“Atta boy Sammy. Grab the cuffs from my bag.” Dean grinned at his younger brother before her coughed and rubbed the tender flesh on his neck.
Sam shook his head and fought the smile that threatened. “Really Dean? Keeping cuffs with your clothing.”
Dean smirked. “Girls are into some kinky shit little brother.” He bent down and picked up the blonde and deposited her into the table chair.
Author: Lisa
Status: Completed
Chapter List: Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Epilogue
Rating: R (for violence, language and sexual situations)
Fandom: Supernatural/BtVS Crossover
Pairing: Buffy/Dean
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: Illusions are a devils game that blur the black and white lines to gray. Evil is back, but which form will it appear in?
Spoilers: All season of BtVS are fair game along with all episodes of SPN up to “Everyone Loves a Clown”
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright The CW Network. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended. “To make everything right is for God to just reach out and turn off the light!” is taken from a modern day nursery rhyme by Shel Silverstein, no infringement intended.
Distribution: Not without permission from myself.
AN: Huge thanks to danishafer for beta'ing this chapter for me. Any mistakes are mine. Feedback is love!
“Live for The Music” by Bad Company filled the noisy bar. Buffy and Dean clinked their shot glasses together before slamming back the amber colored tequila shot. Buffy giggled as she placed the glass on the table that already had four empty shot glasses and two beers on its chipped surface.
Dean aimed the dart; swaying slightly before flicking it toward the board. “Shit.” He mumbled when the dart hit the cork backboard.
“You throw like a girl!” Buffy gave him a shit-eating grin.
Dean flipped her off as he picked up the beer the waitress had just deposited on their table. “Least I don’t assault the patrons.”
The mischief in her eyes passed as her jaw dropped slightly. “He… he totally walked into my shot.” Her voice was indigent as she jutted out her full lower lip and pouted at him.
“Bullshit.” Dean walked over to her placing the palms of his hands on either side of the bar chair she was perched on, effectively blocking her escape. He suppressed a groan as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth and sucked slightly on it.
She watched with interest as his eyes darkened from a normal rich green to a forest green. Her lips quirked into a sly smile; she quickly ducked under his arm grabbing his wrist. “C’mon.”
“Slow the hell down.” He stumbled slightly when she spun him around into a dark corned of the bar. “I better be getting lucky.”
Buffy nodded her head; her blonde hair tickled his neck as she pressed her small body against the hard plans of his chest. “Very lucky.”
His head rolled back as her warm tongue licked along his jaw line. Hands gliding down her body, he pulled her against him. Letting out a moan, his head hit the wall as she rolled her hips against his. “Jesus woman. Your room or mine?” He growled out in a gasp.
“Neither.” Buffy arched her neck as Dean’s lip attacked her collarbone causing a warm shiver to race through her body. Her jaw dropped and her lips formed an ‘o’. “Oh god.” Her fingers dug into his shoulder as she grinded against him. He moaned a small smile graced her lips. “Your Daddy liked it rough too.”
Dean’s back stiffened and his hands stop their venture on her firm ass. “What the hell are you talking about?” With his jaw clenched he scowled down at her.
“What?” Her eyes widen with innocence. “Ellen didn’t tell you about John and I?” Laughing she shook her head. “Huh. Now this is an interesting turn of events wouldn’t you say?” She felt his muscles tighten like a cat ready to pounce, her hand grabbed his arms and pinned them to his sides. “Now… now… play nicely.”
Dean struggled to push her off but her grip wouldn’t budge. “How the hell do you know my father?”
“Oh we knew each other really well.” Her sculpted brows rose before she winked at him.
“Get the fuck off of me.” He growled out the words as he struggled against her steel grip.
“No. If you want your brother to make it through the night you’ll shut the fuck up! You Winchesters. Think you’re so smart hunting down demons and spirits. You aren’t even in the big leagues yet and you think you can destroy it. Poor little Dean found his father and couldn’t keep him alive. He begged for your life you know.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The words were clipped as they spewed from his mouth like hot acid and he wished that he had told Sammy where he had gone.
“To make everything right is for God to just reach out and turn off the light!”
“Great, I’m stuck with some crazy bitch. Just my luck.” He rolled his eyes as he rested the back of his head against the wood paneled wall.
Buffy shot her hand out and wrapped it tightly around Dean’s neck. “Now really isn’t the time to piss me off.”
“Not fucking scaring me, you’re forgetting I saw you fight tonight.” His jaw clenched as she laughed loudly.
“Please. You think a guy like your father would hook up with a hunter that didn’t have a little something special? John liked to live on the edge. I would’ve killed him sooner if he hadn’t left so soon. It hurt Mommy’s feelings.” Tightening her grip on his she leaned forward.
Dean used his free arm to try and break the hold the blonde had on his neck. He coughed trying to get a gulp of air.
“John didn’t die due to some car accident injuries; he died to save your ungrateful ass. Kinda put what you call a monkey wrench in my plans though. You see. You all were supposed to die. Now I guess I’ll have to knock you down one at a time.” Her red lips parted before they turned into a feral smile. “I think I’ll start with Sam. A little payback for Meg.”
“You’re fucking working with the demon!”
“No princess. I am the fucking demon.” Her eyes flashed yellow briefly before they returned to their normal mossy green color. A smirk escaped her lips as she watched his eyes widen in horror. “I think I’ll go see how Sammy’s doing.” Buffy tightened her grip on his neck and watched as he passed out. “For God to just reach out and turn off the light.”
She took a step forward before she vanished leaving only a small glow behind.
~*~
Buffy picked up the leather journal that fell out of Sam’s canvas bag. She had been in search of a knife that dropped when she tossed Sam’s bag to the ground the journal had fallen at her feet. Her fingers skimmed over the worn leather binding, she took a quick look around before she un-snapped the clasp.
The smell of coffee and bourbon invaded her nostrils as she opened the journal. Her emerald eyes scanned the notes on the side and stopped at a piece of worn paper that was stuck in one of the pockets. A small corner protruded from behind an old-style compass. She chewed her lip as she tried to decide if she should pull it out. There was nothing unique about the corner but she felt compelled to it. Quickly she pulled the paper out and carefully unfolded it. She gazed at the scrolled handwritten note.
‘John Winchester,
May you always find your way back to me from whatever post they send you to. I’ll be waiting for your return.
Always,
Mary
xoxo’
Color drained from her face while she felt light headed. Slowly she swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat. The name ‘John Winchester’ jumped off the paper at her. Her heart constricted and she glanced at the cheap motel the three were holed up in. Dean and Sam were the sons that John was trying to protect.
Reaching up, Buffy closed the van hatch before turning toward Sam and Dean's room, but paused. When she had been eavesdropping, Dean and Sam had talked about their father being dead.
“Shit.”
~*~
Sam sat hunched over his computer while he scanned the article that he had found on the Internet. It contained information about when the carnival had started up. His gaze was pulled away from the laptop screen as the door of their motel room swung open, the hinges rattling from the force.
“What the hell?” Sam mumbled, looking up as a very pissed off Buffy scowled at him.
A cool breeze rushed into the room from the open door, sending his research fluttering around the room. “Thanks,” Sam snarled out the words, exhausted from a night of research, “you going to help me clean up this mess now?”
Buffy stood her ground, not moving a muscle to help. “Where is he?” Her voice, void of any pleasantries carried through the small room. The blonde watched with interest as Sam stood up, his tall frame towering over her own.
“Who? Dean?” Sam asked as his eyes widened in confusion. Since when did the blonde care where his older brother was? “I thought you had enough of him for the night.” With a knowing smirk Sam folded his arms across his chest. His brother would a get a kick out of knowing that she was inquiring as to his whereabouts.
“No, moron! John!” Buffy grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the lava lamp that was perched on a painted white dresser and tossed it across the room. The lamp crashed against the green painted wall, denting it before the glass exploded sending small shards of glass raining down. The thick orange translucent wax clung to the wall before it slowly slid down, staining the white shag carpet.
“Where is your father Sam? And I’m not talking the one you claim is dead to mislead anyone looking for him. I know how much it pisses him off when unwanted guests track him down.” Buffy took a steadying breath to control her heart rate. She fondly remembered the fabricated stories the two had come up with in case someone, or something, had captured the other. “I’m not going to ask you again. Where’s John Winchester?”
His spine stiffened at the mention of his father’s name and he took a tentative step away from the blonde. “How the hell do you know my father?”
“We hunted together for a few months.” Buffy frowned at his blank expression. Rolling her eyes she pulled the leather bound journal that had been tucked safely under the back of her pants and tossed him John’s journal. “Read for yourself.”
Sam shook his head in disbelief as he caught the book in his right hand. “You went snooping through my bag?”
“That’s what you want to get hung up on? Me snooping?” Buffy let out a deep breath. “I don’t think how I found the journal is really the key here.”
“Man, what kind of scam are you pulling ?”
She ignored the jab and folded her arms across her chest, turning to rest her hip against the dresser. “I knew there was something about you and your brother that was familiar.” Smirking she looked back at him. “You have his eyes and Dean… gods help us all, Dean has his mouthy attitude.” Her eyes cast downwards as Sam looked increasingly upset. “Explains why Ellen was so hell bent on getting me to go on this hunting trip. Would’ve been easier if she just told me where John was. John Winchester’s infamous sons, he talked about you guys so much.” Her voice sobered.
“Funny he never mentioned you.” The brunette tossed the leather journal onto the small table that had been turned into a desk over the past two days.
Buffy winced. “Just… are you meeting up with him later? I’ve got some information to share with him and when you do talk to him tell him I’m pissed for how he left.”
“Left?” Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I already told you what happened.”
“Yes left. A note on my pillow with something that only a Winchester would think was an apology.” Buffy pushed herself of the dresser wall and stalked toward Sam. “He sucked at apologies and apparently you suck at lying cause I know he’s not dead.” Buffy grabbed Sam’s cell phone that was sitting on the corner of the table and shoved it into his chest. “Call him.”
“I-Ican’t.”
“Yes you can. Just punch in the numbers and wait for him to pick up, a five year old could manage.” Buffy refused to believe John was dead. She would’ve received his package containing all their research on the demon. She hadn’t. That had to be a sign that he was still alive. Right?
“Don’t think so sweetheart.” Dean’s voice was husky, his trachea bruised from the blondes vise like grip. He cocked his shotgun and pointed it at Buffy who currently had his brother cornered against a wall.
Buffy spun her head around to look at the intruder. Dean stood in the doorway of their motel room his eyes cold and an angry red mark marred his neck. She could see his body tremble slightly with what she assumed was anger. Great, just my luck.
“Sammy she’s a demon.” Dean flicked his gaze toward his younger brother for a brief moment before he returned his attention to the blonde demon that had knocked him out.
“Dean, man what are you doing?” Sam looked at his brother as though he had gone crazy, which given the night was a strong possibility.
“Demon!” Buffy turned her body fully to look at Dean. She had been called a lot of things while being the Slayer but that one had to top the cake. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Hit the bottle a little too much tonight Dean? Cause you’re sounding a lot like a crazy person.”
“We hit the tequila bottle about thirty minutes ago.” Dean took a step closer to the couple, his hard gaze fixed on Buffy.
“Man, what are you talking about?” Sam was officially stuck in the twilight zone and his head was beginning to feel the affects.
“She’s a demon Sammy. Been working with the thing that killed mom. It knocked me out before I could warn you.” He clipped the words out and motioned his head to the side. “Now move away from it.”
Her annoyed sigh filled the silence “Okay, I’m not an it, my name is Buffy and I didn’t even know Mary.” The moment the words had tumbled out of her mouth she wished she had kept silent. The scowl on Dean’s face deepened and she heard Sam’s boot hit the papers that had fallen on the ground as he shuffled away.
Sam shot his brother a questioning look. His brother shook his head. “We never told you her name. How did you know that?”
“John.” Buffy shot Sam a look before her green eyes looked back at Dean. “He told me and if you put the gun down we could talk about this.” She flinched as Dean lifted the shotgun, ready to take aim. “In a civilized manner.” Images of Warren shooting her flashed in her mind, she wouldn’t have Willow to save her this time.
A snort filled the air and Dean scowled. “He told you that before or after you screwed him?”
“Excuse me? I never slept with John! Ew… he’s like fifty!” Buffy paused as she made a sour face. “I mean I know I’ve gone for older guys but… if you’ve seen them you’d completely understand. Well preserved.”
“Not the song you were singing earlier when you humping me like a bitch in heat!” He watched as Buffy shot him a look, as he smirked arrogantly back at her.
“Okay, can you possible be more into yourself? And when were you with this imaginary Buffy?” A curved eyebrow arched at him, questioning his comment. “I’ve been in my room all night.”
Dean tilted his head as he lined up his shot. “You aren’t going to play be me again.”
Buffy jumped up on the corner of the patterned bedspread that covered the mattress. She bounced off and leapt into the air with grace.
She felt the gun shot wiz by her shoulder before she heard the loud ‘crack’ noise that followed. One boot-covered foot made contact with the side of the wall, and she heard him cock the gun as she sidestepped the gun. Her legs bent into a crouch before she shot herself through the air, spiraling her body toward Dean before he could move. Buffy grabbed the gun and tore it from his hands before she landed on her feet; she spun the gun around pointing the offensive metal at him. “There.” She smiled at the shocked expression on Dean’s face. “I like this playing field a bit better.” Buffy tossed her golden locks off of her face. “I have a slight aversion to guns. Getting shot and flat lining can make a girl a little uncomfortable.”
The tension in her voice rose. “Now, your little brother wasn’t in the mood for share time but maybe you are. Where’s your father?”
“What kind of fucked up mind game are you playing sweetheart? You know exactly where he is.” Dean shoved the barrel of the gun away from his chest.
Buffy allowed him to move the gun without resisting. “If I did would I really be wasting my time with you two?”
“Screw you!” Dean swung his fist out.
Buffy ducked and hit him in the gut with the butt of the gun and as he doubled over she slammed the side of the shotgun into his throat. He sputtered for breath and she felt a pang of regret at his pained look. “Listen to me you moron! Just tell me where’s John is?”
Sam moved cautiously forward, trying to stay as quiet as he could. If Dean said she was working with the demon then she was and she moved too fast to be human.
Meg had manipulated him the same way. Grinding his teeth together he pulled a Glock from the back of his pants. He took a deep breath before he lunged forward, slamming the butt of the gun against her temple. Sam watched as she crumpled into a small heap at his feet.
“Atta boy Sammy. Grab the cuffs from my bag.” Dean grinned at his younger brother before her coughed and rubbed the tender flesh on his neck.
Sam shook his head and fought the smile that threatened. “Really Dean? Keeping cuffs with your clothing.”
Dean smirked. “Girls are into some kinky shit little brother.” He bent down and picked up the blonde and deposited her into the table chair.