Title: Dragon Chapter: 14

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Dead Man’s Blood didn’t go as planned. The death of his brother and father made him into the hunter he is today, but with the unexpected return of Sam and the entrance of Buffy into his life, things are about to change for the better (with some bumps along the way…)

Rated: PG-15

Characters: Buffy, Faith, Willow, Good Vamp!Dean, Sam (Buffy/Dean *mentions*, Faith/Sam)

Prompt: Crossover (SPN/BTVS)

Team: Hunters

Words: 2337

Dis: I don’t own SPN or BTVS

Six months have passed since Sam was brought back from heaven. He wanted to say that he felt better, that being with Dean helped fill the hole that's been getting progressively larger since being ripped out of his haven. He couldn't because then he'd be a liar. Every morning, when he opened his eyes, he wished for it to all be a dream, that he was back in loving arms and not hunting the things that killed him in the first place. Dean was oddly quiet too, more temperamental, but that is to be expected due to his vampire tendencies. Sam mentioned visiting Buffy once and got a black eye for his effort. Faith's number was still stored into his phone, but he has yet to use it. Now, while on the track of the demon that killed his mother, he was very tempted to reconsider not dialing Faith’s number.

Now, as he sat nursing his beer on a lumpy excuse for a mattress, he reached into his pocket with his spare hand and flipped open his phone. Dean was out on a hunt, much to his distaste, and wouldn’t be back for a while. Sam had eventually convinced him to switch to wild game, it didn’t have the right taste, but still gave Dean the strength he needed. Sometimes his brother slipped, but he has yet to take a life: and for that, Sam was grateful.

It was still a large transition to live with a vampire, but they were doing their best to make it work. Dean had connections that enabled hunts to go a little easier, but there had been a couple times Dean had let the culprit go as a favor, which hadn’t sat well with Sam. They were still tracking the demon that started it all and they finally had a name: Azazel. Apparently, according to the other side, he was building up an army. The purpose still wasn’t clear, but whatever it was: it was big. Maybe, just maybe, they were in way over their heads. Since Dean was reluctant to call in any favors from those that had helped Dad, Sam needed to take the steps necessary to become successful.

“’lo?” came a muffled voice on the other end, soft and filled with sleep. Wincing, Sam looked at the clock and mentally slapped himself. The time difference from Utah to Ohio was making it four in the morning there, not one. “Hello?”

“Sorry,” said Sam. “I woke you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” sighed Faith. “Who’s this?”

“Sam. From Idaho.”

“Oh, right. Hey.”

On the other end of the phone, Faith was buried under her sheets, phone pressed to her ear with her eyes still closed. She refrained from moving.

“Sorry, I’ll call you back later, ok?”

“Still apologizing. What’s up, Sam?”

“I…WE…need your help?”

“With?” asked Faith, yawning while itching her stomach.

“We found him, the demon that started all of it. Dean wants to just go in guns blazing.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” said Faith with a smile.

“We know nothing about him,” said Sam. “He refuses to get any help and…well…”

“Last resort?” asked Faith.

“He really didn’t want me calling you,” said Sam. “What with the Buffy thing.”

“Right. So. What can I do?”

“You’re at the Council, right?” Sam continued as her affirmative grunt. “Think you could look up the name: Azazel?”

“I won’t, but some bookworms might. I’ll see what I can do for ya.”

“Ok, um, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Hm, or, you can make it up to me for waking me up,” said Faith with a slight purr, though on the inside she was chuckling.

“Oh, um, what?” asked Sam, slightly stuttering while shifting uncomfortably in his bed. He forgot about his beer, and it sloshed onto his lap. Cursing, he put the bottle on the nightstand and stood, the beer already seeping into his jeans.

“Sam, I was just kidding,” said Faith, making Sam blush with slight embarrassment, happy that she wasn’t there to see how her comment had made him clumsy. “I’ll give you a ring tomorrow, well, later today, all right?”

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Faith.”

“No prob. Oh, and just so you know, Buffy’s one large bitch on a rampage. I blame your brother for it.”

“Believe me, he hasn’t been easy to live with either.”

“Maybe, if we find out something big, B and I will head out to help.”

“Thanks.”

“Night, Sam. Sweet dreams, I know I’ll have them now that I’ve heard your voice again. Mmm.”

Faith hung up, and a stunned Sam broke out into a smile before shaking his head and tossing his hung up phone onto his bed. He quickly changed into fresh clothing. Luckily his bed was dry so he climbed in just as Dean arrived.

“Hey.”

Dean grunted his hello before escaping into the bathroom. Sam listened as his brother slammed things around, a curse coming out here and there until he finally emerged in just a shirt and boxers. Dean plopped onto the bed and closed his eyes. Sam opened his mouth to say something but Dean rolled over, keeping his back to his brother and Sam thought better of it. Instead he rolled over as well, his back to his brother’s back, and did his best to fall asleep…when he did, the images that entered his head weren’t pleasant.

Him, his brother, Faith, and Buffy standing in a cemetery, bleeding as if having fought a battle…

A gate opening, black smoke pouring out, which he soon found to be demonic entities…

A yellow-eyed demon, smirking at the opening of hell, turning his head to look directly into his eyes…

‘You’re all going to die…’ Then the demon was there, standing before him. ‘And you’re going to help me do it.’

Sam gasped awake, holding onto his brother, who had been trying to awaken him. Sam was shaking, and it took a moment to look up at Dean. After the shakes abated he turned his serious blue eyes up to look into his brother’s silver.

“It’s starting, Dean.”

“What?” asked Dean. “What Sam?”

“The apocalypse.”

0000000000000000

Faith, after five hours of sleep, waltzed out of her room freshly showered. Her damp hair was pulled up into a messy bun, wet strands leaving drops of water on her bare shoulder. Dressed in a white tank top and black yoga pants she leisurely walked around the Council barefooted. Quentin Travers would’ve had a heart attack. Bracing both hands on the knobs of two oak doors she twisted then pushed to enter the extravagant, newly stocked library that had books from floor up to the tops of the twenty-five foot ceilings. Slayers in Training were littered about and familiar blonde and red heads were sitting in the middle of the library at a large table. Honestly, the Council’s newly built library in the Cleveland base looked an awful lot like the Sunnydale High library. Funny thing? They had decided to build the new HQ right above the hell mouth, to keep a better eye on it. Wards from witches around the world kept the baddies at bay.

“Yo!”

Both girls looked at Faith and nodded their greeting. Buffy looked to be in a good mood today dressed in a bright yellow skirt that fell to her knees and a white, knit top. Willow was more casual in her khaki pants and green t-shirt that had a smiley face on the front.

“What’s up, Faith?” asked Willow.

“Gotta job. Was called in a favor, was wondering if we could look into a demon called Azazel.”

“Sure,” said Willow, instantly sliding off of the table. Things have been pretty slow lately, which was off putting because when things were slow that meant that it was about to get worse. “Who is the favor for?”

“Just a friend.”

“Who, Faith?” asked Buffy, and Faith rubbed the back of her neck.

“Sam.”

“Oh.” Buffy rose from her spot on the table. “I see.”

“Look, B, I…”

“No,” said Buffy, hand going to the mark that Dean left. “I get it. Dean doesn’t know he called, right?”

“Right.”

Buffy nodded before leaving Faith and Willow alone in the library. Faith turned to Willow and shrugged at the worried look Willow was casting her way. Faith and Buffy really never talked about what went down with Dean and Sam and they probably never would till the day the boys came knocking on their door. Much of the reason why Willow didn’t broach the topic was because Buffy would shut herself away from the world each time she tried.

“So, research?” asked Faith.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll get on it.”

“Sweet. In the mean time…TWERPS!” The SIT’s instantly stood at attention. “Move out to the training grounds. MOVE!” Faith smirked as they hustled out of the library. “Ah, I love my job.”

0000000000

“Argh! I can’t believe you called them!”

“What else was I supposed to do, Dean? Sit and wait? We know nothing of this demon and the Council has resources we couldn’t even imagine.”

Dean remained silent as he packed his bag. In all reality, he knew what Sam said to be true. They’ve hit dead end after dead end, even with the help of HIS sources. It was time to try something else. However, he wasn’t looking forward to the reunion with Buffy. They hadn’t left on good terms, at all, and the urge to return to her has increased with each passing day. He knew, as well he was sure she knew, that the marks they left on each other’s necks were mating marks, and being away from each other for so long has left them both (he was certain) anguished (though he hid it well) and beyond irritable.

“Fine. We go, we get what we need, then we’re outta there.” Dean shoved a crumpled shirt into his pack. “Got it?”

“Sure. Fine.”

“Fine.”

After an hour they had all their affairs in order and were on the road. It was going to be a long drive from the outskirts of Salt Lake City to Cleveland, but they were used to it. Dean shoved in his classic rock mixed tape, Sam put the plugs of his I-Pod in his ear, and both mentally prepared for the reunion that was about to happen with the slayers.

00000000000

Faith sighed while ending the call. It had been Sam, and they were on their way. She closed her eyes and begged the Powers to not have Buffy gut her when she gave her the news. Pocketing her phone she told her charges to take their lunch break before exiting the training room. It took her five minutes to jog up two flights of stairs and take a right to the end of the hall where the original members of the Scooby Gang, had their private rooms. She passed a room that had a light rock song playing, which meant Dawn was home from college for the summer. She passed another room that smelled like incense and finally came upon the forbidding closed door.

Sighing, Faith knocked then entered to see Buffy on her bed. She was really getting tired of the lovesick routine and hoped it would end with their visit. Buffy lifted her head when seeing Faith and sat up, brushing tears away from under her eyes before standing.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Maybe. Hell, they’re coming out, B. Thought you’d like the head’s up.”

Buffy didn’t say anything, just walked to her window and looked out onto the courtyard. The sun was high in the sky and the pool was filled with girls that had the afternoon off. They had been lucky the hellmouth resided on the outskirts of town, so that such a large complex could be built. Buffy felt more than heard Faith leave her room and she sighed, resting her head against the cool glass.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Dean again. He’d hurt her, still hurt her every time she longed for his touch and was denied. Honestly, she’d have thought after the whole disaster with Spike she’d of been done with vampire men. Apparently not, since every time she touched his mark she couldn’t stop the love, want, and desire from entering her body and soul.

How she hated him.

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt. No way in hell. In fact, this occasion called for an emergency meeting between her, Dawn, Willow, maybe even Faith, and the company credit card. She was going to go shopping, and do her best to forget about Dean…

OR so she said, but when walking around in the store with Dawn and Willow fawning over dresses and Faith moving to the leather department: thoughts of Dean entered her mind. Would he like this? Was that short enough: ARGH!

“That’s it,” she muttered, picking a short, white skirt from the rack. “I’m going to make him suffer.” She grabbed a low-cut top then made her way to the lingerie department, a sparkle of something akin to vengeance in her eye that would’ve made Anya proud. “No one messes with Buffy Summers and gets away with it.”

By the first night, Dean Winchester would be begging for her to take him back: and she’d gladly reply with a swift kick to the chest, the word no, and possibly accentuate her answer with a stake to the chest. Sure, it wouldn’t kill him, but it was the thought that counted.

And as her eyes landed on a black, lacey number, an evil gleam came to her eyes.

Oh yeah, Dean Winchester was toast…

Meanwhile, 800 miles away…

“Huh.”

“What?” asked Sam, looking up from his book to stare at Dean, who was rubbing his chest. “You ok?”

“I dunno, I just this really bad feeling…” Dean belched. “Maybe it was the rabbit back in Kansas.”

Sam made his ick face while Dean just shrugged and kept on driving…

WIth the dramatic conclusion of season seven of Smallville, us viewers are wondering what will be brought to the table next season due to contracts expiring and actors reluctant to come back for episodes. Some are also questioning if there will be a season after season eight but I'm more than certain that as long as the ratings stay high and that Tom Welling is willing to continue to sign on they will have no problems renewing the season, especially if the actors that have decided to continue part time on S8 continue PT even further. 

A large hit that the show will be taking is the loss of Michael Rosenbaum, not the actual loss, per say, but the lack of Lex will have the writers thinking of other 'baddies' that Superman has faced to bring to the show. Lex will be on part time and it will be fun to see how he will 'forget' about the events that occurred in Artic to keep Clark's secret.... He'll probably be all knocked out and not remember what happened, which is the overly used solution it seems when keeping Clark's secret.... THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE WRITERS! Seriously, a friend and I start timing at the beginning of each episode to see how long the writers go before knocking someone out... 

Now, the loss of Kristin Kreuk is no loss to me. I never liked Lana with Clark ever since S4 and I've wanted to get her out of the picture for the longest time and now, with the PT contract she's signing, we'll finally have Clark focusing on someone else. *cough*Lois*cough* like its supposed to be, hopefully these copyright people will get their sticks out of their asses and let more Lois and Clark action happen cause that's one of the reasons I watch the show. 

Another character they fear losing is Chole, played by Allison Mack, I doubt we'll lose her and if all else i'm certain they'll work part time status with her if she doesn't want to return full time. Chloe, to me, seems like a character that's fully developed, even with the unanswered questions on what her powers can do *like suck the 'life' outta Braniac*

Even with the idea of those three characters being part time we still have Lois and Jimmy, who can really start to develop as characters now that the writers will have to focus on them. Also, we can see more of Kara and her past on Krypton. Kara isn't a fully developed character yet and I'd REALLY like to see more Justice League action going on and to see how the guys will react to Kara. 

James Marsters is one of my favorite actors and I'd like to see more of B.R.A.N.I.A.C. as well, perhaps have him go after Lois this time? I'd like to see some scenes with those two, her snark and the Brain's snark would be quite entertaining for me. 


Maybe this season the writers can finally get Clark pushed in the right direction and get him out there with the JL helping people, letting him see that he is indeed needed out there and would be very much appreciated by the people as a whole. I'm hoping he'll finally see what his purpose is this season and go on more quests with oliver! (and also the humor of them trying to get him in a disguise if its something secret ops) but no tights yet, we'll save that for the final FINAL episode ;0)

OH! And I'd like to see Clark finally fly.... :0)

Season 8 will be intersting and i cannot wait to see something new brought to the table.

A/N: Story #2 for the SPN_Twisted challenge in week #1!

Dis: I own nothing
Title: Dirty Little Secret
Summary: As Dean tries to show Ron the better side of the internet... Hermione and Sam have a secret little rendezvous

Characters: Sam, Dean, Hermione, Ron (mentioned)

Genre: Romance/slight humor

Challenge: #1, team HP

Words:  832

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
Just another regret, hope that you can keep it
My dirty little secret

Who has to know
When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione looked up as the door to the motel opened up, a frustrated Sam stomping out of the room and into the parking lot where she was to gather her thoughts. She saw how upset she was and wondered if Ron had done something to him. Her husband had a way with putting his large foot into his mouth.

“Sam?” Sam looked up, the frustration melting when seeing Hermione leaning against her and Ron’s car. “What’s wrong?”

“Ron asked me to teach him how to use the computer…”

Enough said. Hermione tried to fight the smile but couldn’t. She burst out into laugher and Sam soon had a soft smile on his lips as well as he moved to lean against the car right next to her. Her laughter increased, tears running down her cheeks and he hand wiped them away.

“Oh, oh that’s rich.”

“He gave up trying to understand and I had to pull the computer away before he hexed it.”

“He would… I think the only modern technology that Ron has handled so far is the telephone… Though it still unnerves me that he calls it the felly-phone still.”

Sam shook his head. He was still finding it hard to believe that there was another world out there. A magical world, that didn’t rely on oil and electricity, but on magic. The environmentalist in him envied their ability to do that. Hell, he felt guilty filling up the gas-guzzling Impala: imagine just tapping a wand to something to get it to work. However, Ron had insisted on learning what was so great about the computer. Sam, unable to teach him the basics, had told Dean to show Ron the Internet: and Sam wondered what porn site he was going to show Ron first. Which was the perfect distraction…

“He’s going to be busy for a while…”

“Oh?” asked Hermione, a teasing, but still uneasy smile on her face.

“C’mere…”

She looked over her shoulder, to see that the motel room was still: no one moving. She then moved up to Sam, her smile brightening as his arms came around her waist and puller her in closer. Up on her toes her lips touched his and both moaned at the delightful contact.

“Been wanting to do that for so long…”

“Me too,” she whispered before deepening the kiss, all while keeping her ears open for a single sound that would indicate her husband was coming. Sam’s hands moved up her small shirt, under to her skin and he wanted to touch more of her but this wasn’t the place or the time. Yet. Instead he focused all of his energy on the kiss, which turned from simple to desperate. Teeth nipped at the flesh of her bottom lip and her tongue was teasing against his own, making him grow harder.

“When will you just leave him?” asked Sam. “He doesn’t treat you right…”

“He does. He does it in his own Ronald way…”

“Give me a chance to do it my way…”

“Sam…”

The door to the motel room started to open and they pulled apart: him stepping away while she did her best to fix her hair. Dean stood there, eyes narrowing due to knowing what his brother and their newest friend have been doing behind Ron’s back.

“Ron’s asking for you,” said Dean. “Said he found a quidditch site… Whatever that is.”

“Ok,” said Hermione, guilt filling her in a way it always did when she left Sam’s side. She moved past his brother, ignoring the disappointed look on his face. From what Sam said, Dean couldn’t put it against him for sleeping with a married woman. Apparently, Dean was a sly dog as well. “Thank you.”

“No problem…” Dean watched her go, happy that she now had to deal with the technologically retarded Weasley. He then turned his attention on his brother, who looked upset and lost. “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” Sam shrugged and Dean just sighed while stepping to his brother. “Dean…”

“You’re killing yourself. You’re killing her. She needs to make a decision. It’s either you or her marriage. I’m tired of playing the lookout for you two. Ron had been the one on his way out here and I talked him into staying because I needed ‘to check on something with the Impala’.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sam, truly meaning his apology.

“Look…” Dean hated upsetting his brother. “I just don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“I better go in there… Make sure he doesn’t break my computer.”

“I’ll come with.”

“Why?”

“Oh you two have the guilty look on your faces whenever you’re around him. So me, being the natural liar that I am, need to think of an excuse why.”

Sam smiled, a true smile.

“Thanks Dean.”

“No problem.” A shout from the inside, followed by what sounded like some sort of curse: had Dean wincing. “I told Ron to exit out of the porn site… Think he knew what I meant?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

END

To Whom It May Concern (Dawn Ostroff!)

For three years I've been searching for a television show to catch my attention. To keep me intrigued and entertained by going outside of the box with a new and fresh idea. I found that show, and it is Supernatural. Now, yes, many have tried the whole "supernatural" outlook on their show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed, Tru Calling, Ghost Whisperer and the spin off: Angel. Success was clearly evident in more than half of those shows.

I believe that Supernatural is well on it's way to being a top show. Though their ratings may not be outstanding (thanks to a little show I'd like to call Grey's Anatomy) it's a major hit with all ages and genders. My mother loves the show. My father has even given compliments on the show. I have group Supernatural nights with my DVD set (and also on the fresh episode night) because those that don't own cable or don't have a satellite look to me to keep them in the loop. Might I add, that of the twenty friends that come over, more than half of them are male...

Which brings me to the point of this letter. I'm feeling a little nervous with the pressure the network heads are putting on Erik. Wonderful Erik: who has given us one heck of a gold mine here. The way it's going now: the show is great. Ingenious. The struggles of two brothers as they pass from town to town taking down those evil SOB's. I think that making him turn it into a soap opera isn't the way to go.

I'm all for showing girl power on the show. GUEST appearances are more than welcomed. In fact, when I'd see Dean (Jensen) or Sam (Jared) in a preview in a lip lock I called the next episode "random chick week". Yes, I get that the brothers need some lovin'. Who doesn't? But adding two regular love interests might not be the best course of action. The response to Jo (Alona Tal) wasn’t great at all and I feel that adding these new girls might hurt the show rather than help it. 

The show is about Sam, and Dean. That’s it. That’s all there should be. The small stories that involved Ellen (Samantha) being in John’s (Jeffery) past. Or even Missouri (Loretta). Those were the ones that I looked forward to. If you want to bring two regular women in: make it someone like Meg (Nikki), a demon. Or even a hunter that isn’t remotely interested in the guys. Keep with the random hook ups. Keep with Erik’s vision! He’s doing a suburb job right now and his heart is fully into it! If he gets forced to doing something he doesn't want to do: then his passion fades, the script looses it’s potential, and fans lose interest!

You don't need to attract the male population by putting more and more women regulars on the show. They already like the show due to the soundtrack, suspense, and relation to the brother-brother relationship that Sam and Dean have. Plus, they all drool over the car! And of course, the random girl hookups. Keep the males entertained with different faces (not the same boring two who should start off as guests as a trail run instead of right away jumping in EXPECTING it to work… Which my gut and my friends’ guts say NOPE.).

So please, PLEASE don't fix what isn't broken. I'm sure you've received letters before this one. And will continue to read letters like this after mine. Just please give it heavy consideration. If Erik doesn't like what you propose: don't get cancel happy. Don't make with the threats: or this awesome show will join other awesome shows that got canceled too early (Tru Calling, Dark Angel, Firefly, VERONICA MARS) because the “Network” thought it best… Leaving the fans PO-ed. Excuse my French. Basically, don't become another FOX.

Please?

One of your most avid viewers,

Jennifer Rehn

Felton, MN

JeReh84@aol.com

A/N: This story is the forth on the weekly challenge posted on LJ.

Dis: I don’t own BTVS or SPN!

Summary: Sam and Faith have a conversation.

Rating: NC-17

Characters: Sam, Faith

Challenge: #9, Roadhouse

Genre: Romance

Prompt: Faith/Sam - vanilla scented candles - NC17

Words: 2,048

~*~*~*~*~*The Final Step*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: This story is the forth on the weekly challenge posted on LJ. 

Title: That Final Step

Dis: I don’t own BTVS or SPN!

Summary: Sam and Faith have a conversation.

Rating: NC-17

Characters: Sam, Faith

Challenge: #9, Roadhouse

Genre: Romance

Prompt: Faith/Sam - vanilla scented candles - NC17

Words: 2,048

~*~*~*~*~*

Faith Lehane was pissed. Well, ok, maybe a little more than pissed. Livid! And when she found her sad excuse of a boyfriend she was going to tear him limb from limb. Well, not physically, but she was going to yell a lot. He had run off with his brother on another one of their hunts: usually that didn’t bother her because it was their job. And she knew the importance of it. But they had gone after something nasty and he decided to leave her and the other Slayers out of it.

Why? Because the Winchester men were stubborn asses who didn’t want their poor, defenseless women getting hurt. She was sure B already found the eldest Winchester and was probably giving him the speech. Faith wasn’t all that great with speeches. Just with yelling and hitting. However, she didn’t want to break her man by smacking him too hard, no: this little confrontation was going to be words.

She hurried up the long set of stairs of the Council. She was staying here, for now. When she finally saved up enough cash she might end up moving: she wasn’t so sure yet. However, she liked this place a bit more now that Sam and Dean visited. Dean kept Buffy off of her back and… Well… Faith kept Sam on HIS back.

Now she was jogging down the hallway and when she got to his door she pushed it open with enough force that it bounced against the doorstop and would’ve closed again if it weren’t for her hand steadying the piece of wood. Sam’s room was empty and completely dark. Frowning she moved around and saw that his bag was indeed open. She turned to the bathroom then and stepped inside. She flicked on the light and breathed in the scent of his soap. He had showered, but now was gone. She looked on the floor and her heart fell from her chest to her stomach.

One of the white towels was stained red. Blood. HIS blood. And she thought two things at the moment. Buffy was going to have a fit about the white towels, and that Sam was, indeed, a dead man. Who gave him the right to scare her like that? 

Throwing the towel back onto the tiled floor she turned on her heel and had a quick stride about her. She was back into the carpeted hall and moving to her room. If he wasn’t there then she’d go find Dean and he’d have two slayers to worry about.

She halted outside her door when seeing a soft glow from underneath the door emitting into the dark hallway. Taking a deep breath to prepare her for what she might see she reached out and opened her door. All the anger she had felt faded away as she took in the sight. Candles, tons of them, placed around her room. Many resided on her dresser and shelves. A couple of them were on the nightstand and the room was filled with the scent of vanilla.

Sitting in the middle of her bed was Sam. He had a large gash above his eye and when he moved to stand she saw the wince he tried to hide. She was ready to rail into him but he looked so beat up that she didn’t have the heart to. She walked to him as he did his best to limp to her. Soon they were close to each other and he had his hands at her elbows.

“Hey.”

“Stupid…”

“What?” he asked, not hearing what she had said.

“I said stupid. You were stupid to leave and stupid to go after the Kralat by yourself and, just…”

He pulled her in, closing his eyes as her body molded against his. His hands moved up her back and he opened his eyes as he loosened the long awaited hug.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… It was something Dean and I had to do.”

“To what? Protect me and B? You know those prophecies hardly ever come true.”

“There was a chance!” He took a breath, wanting to control the anger he still felt when hearing that she could have died. “Dean and I didn’t want to take that chance.”

“Sam, we’ve been doing this for a long time now,” she said, softening her tone. “And I don’t want you taking my place: when I heard you left…”

He pulled her to him again and it was her turn to close her eyes. She felt his hard chest and heard the soft thump of his heartbeat but it still wasn’t enough. She remembered the towel, she remembered the gashes on his face when she saw him, and she remembered going with B to the hideout of the bad guy only to see that it was emptied out. The sinking feeling in her gut when not being able to get a hold of them on their phones and then finally, last night, the tears that had fallen in her private room when he hadn’t come home.

Remembering she was supposed to be mad she pushed away, masking her features while staring him down. She crossed her arms over her chest; making the small, black tank top she had been wearing working out rise to showcase her flat stomach. She glared while tilting her head to the side, making the pony tail she wore brush against the back of her neck.

“I’m mad at you.”

“I know.”

“I should be kicking your ass right now.”

“I know.”

“No you don’t know! You have no idea what’s been going on these past couple days. Damn it I lo—“ she broke off, turning her head away. “Forget it.”

“Faith,” said Sam, grabbing her by the elbow to still her. He knew she could kick his ass but he chanced it. She was about to say something important, and he didn’t want to miss it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said, eyes going around the room once again. “I liked the candles.”

“Faith…”

She turned back, got up onto her tiptoes, and kissed him, not wanting to talk about it. She urged him with her mouth to drop it and it seemed to have worked, for now. His arms were soon around her and she twisted them around so that her back was to the bed. She hurriedly unbuttoned his flannel, long sleeved shirt. When that was on the floor she pulled up his brown tee and soon his chest was open and bare.

His large hands moved up her back, trailing her tank top with them. The cotton material was soon pooling at her feet and she was the one to yank off her sports bra. She toed off her shoes and pulled off her socks. Sam himself was barefoot so she wasted no time jumping up. He caught her and her lips were again melded to his.

He walked them both to the bed and gently laid her upon it. He followed, not breaking the kiss, loving the feel of her hands on his bruised skin. His hands were on her breasts as his tongue dueled with hers. She moaned as his thumb and index fingers rolled her nipples the way she liked and soon he was kissing down her neck.

“Sam…”

Her eyes closed as he slid off her small shorts, pulling them down her legs, leaving her in just her black lace panties. He kissed up her legs after tossing the shorts onto the floor and she murmured her approval as he hooked his thumbs in her panties then tore them off.

She opened her darkened eyes, leaned up so that she could unbutton his jeans, and then pulled them and his boxers down at once. She moved them down to his knees then brought her legs up to run the bottoms of her feet down the backs of his calves, taking his pants to his ankles so that he could kick them off.

Both nude they ran their hands down the planes of the others body. She took him in her hand, making him shudder in pure pleasure as she moved her palm up and down him: giving gentle squeezes that made him close his eyes each time.

“God Faith,” he moaned, hips bucking as she nibbled at his neck. His hands moved between her legs and the smirk she had on her face when making him moan fell into a soft ‘o’ as his fingers moved between the lips of her more intimate body part. She gave a whispery sigh as he made love to her with his hand, thumb rubbing her clit as his long fingers buried themselves in her warmth.

Both wanted too much to waste time on foreplay. They needed each other. NOW. So she pushed him onto his back, not really feeling too bad when seeing him wince. She had almost forgotten about his little stunt so she straddled him, but didn’t take him in.

“Sam?” He looked up, mesmerized by the glow the candlelight made against her skin: the now strong smell of vanilla making him a little dizzy. Then she was leaning down, her lithe body pressed against his. “Do you want me?”

“I’ll always want you.”

Her heart raced and a warm feeling spread in her stomach. She didn’t waste any more time and she let him in. She trembled at how complete she felt and that was enough time for him to move so that he was above her.

Before she could protest he moved inside her and the pleasure was too good to make him move. Her legs wrapped around his slim waist, her hands rested on his arms whose muscles bulged due to him bracing himself against the bed.

He moved faster, deeper, until her body jerked and she cried out. Her orgasm moved over her and she felt it down to her toes. Her nails dug into his purpling skin and he winced at the pleasure pain she was giving him. Her inner Slayer muscles fluttered the tightened against him and he had no choice. He buried his face into her hair as his hips bucked and jerked when he emptied into her.

Both were gasping for air as their tired bodies fell lax. Sweat glistened at their brows and he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he rolled onto his side, taking her with him. He knew he loved her. Hell, he knew she’d been close to telling him she loved him. GOD he wanted to tell her, but he knew if he took that step, something would happen to her. He lost Jess to a demon that was long dead but there were still more out there. He lost Maddy to excruciating circumstances. Then there had been Addison, the girl he had started to fall for last year that he had lost to vampires. He just COULDN’T take that step with Faith, not if he wanted her safe. But damn it, it was hard.

“I’m sorry,” he said, running his hand down her bare arm. “I know I shouldn’t have left but…”

She sighed propping herself up on her elbow as she looked him over with inquisitive brown eyes.

“I know you’ve had it rough in the past when it’s come to relationships,” she whispered, knowing she hit the nail on the head when he looked away. She moved her free hand over the scar on his back that was there from the stabbing that should have ended his life. “I have had hurdles too. But we can’t run Sam. I’ve tired the whole running thing and, well, it didn’t really work out.”

“I love you, Faith. I’ve tried to not love you, because every woman I care about dies. My mom, women I’ve opened my heart to, I just…” He sat up running his hands through his shaggy hair. “I’m getting so tired.”

She sat up with him, resting her cheek against his forearm and then closed her eyes. The move she was about to make was monumental, huge. It was something Faith had never EVER done her entire life. She wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the slight panic that was crawling up her throat.

“I love you too…”

END

Review Please!

A/N: This story is the third on the weekly challenge posted on LJ. This is also dedicated to lyndz cause I was kinda bitchy and needed to make it up to her. Sorry hun, u know I love ya!

Dis: I don’t own BTVS or SPN!

Title: Free

Summary: Sam and Faith have a conversation.

Rating: R, for some sex sit. and lang!

Characters: Sam, Faith

Challenge: #9, Roadhouse

Genre: Romance/Drama

Prompt: ‘Sam/Faith: butterflies: R’

Words: 1,215

~*~*~*~*~*

A soft breeze caressed all things on the side of a grassy hill. Flowers blew in the wind and the grass swayed slightly. Butterflies flew up from the flowers, startled from the sudden change of air and fluttered up the slow incline: pulling up in their flight when two nude bodies laying on a checkered blanket got in their way. One brave butterfly landed on the toe of a woman with dark, curly hair that reached her shoulders and a small tattoo on her arm. She opened her brown eyes that, on this rare occasion, were free of any sort of make-up. Another rare occurrence happened: she smiled brightly, the happiness reaching her eyes as she watched the orange winged insect move about over her purple painted toe.

The Monarch moved up the tops of her legs, over her knee, and was on a journey up her thigh when her partner started to stir. She looked over at him now, running her hand over his chest as he slowly awakened. His clear blue eyes met her dark brown and he, too, smiled: bringing up her own hand to caress her cheek.

“Hey,” he murmured: bending slightly to kiss her bare shoulder: all while still staring into her eyes.

“Hey.” She’d gotten used to these gestures and welcomed them now: unlike before when she tried her best to push him away. “We fell asleep.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged. “As long as it didn’t rain.”

She looked up into the clear sky, the shining sun warming her skin almost as much as his touch did.

“We’re safe,” she said, looking down when getting a tickle at her naval. “And we have company.”

His brow furrowed in confusion but when looking down he saw the butterfly and he watched for a moment. He moved the hand that had touched her cheek and put it just above where the creature was. It hesitated before crawling over the top of his hand. It stopped for a moment then it was gone in a flutter of orange and black to join others that still flew above and around them.

“I envy her,” said Faith as she laid back: watching the cluster of insects. “All of them. So care free, not a worry in the world. Sometimes I wish I could just fly away… Yanno?”

“Yeah,” he said, resting his head against her, inhaling the smell of her shampoo: closing his eyes in pleasure as he did so. “I know. Believe me…”

“You make it easier,” she confessed, not looking at him as he pulled back to stare at her. “I’m all alone, save for you and your bro. Fuck Sam, if something were to happen to you...”

“Same goes for me. I mean, Dean is great but we haven’t been close since…”

“He made the deal.”

“I love him,” he said, looking down as the troubled look came back into his features. He distracted himself for a moment by drawing invisible patterns over her bare stomach. “He’s my blood, my family. But everytime I look at him, a stab of guilt goes through me. I can’t look at him the same way: knowing that he could do it again...”

“We’re working on that now. Willow is excellent at what she does.”

“IF she grants you the favor,” said Sam, knowing that the redheaded witch didn’t look at Faith as one of her favorite people.

“She’ll forget all about our problems when hearing what the deal is. She’ll want the demon gone so that no one else can get hurt.”

Sam nodded, looking down at her in the process. She was beautiful; there was no questioning that. When he had met her she was all harsh edges: which he had actually liked. But now, she was softer, more carefree. There was a light about her that hadn’t been there before and he found himself a moth to the flame. He couldn’t stay away: even though he knew he might get burned in the end. However, it’s been seven months. And so far his skin and heart remained unscathed.

He bent down, then: leaning in to kiss her but stopped at the last possible moment. He could feel her breath and he blinked: brushing his eyelashes against her cheek and she gave a soft sigh at the light, brushing touch. So he did it again, this time against her neck then he placed a kiss there and he smiled as she sighed a bit deeper, her arms moving so that they were around his neck.

“I love you Faith…”

She held her breath at his confession. She got that funny, trembly feeling in her stomach again as he spoke those words into her ear. Her eyes closed as he kissed her temple and her whole body warmed. Not because she was horny as hell: which she was already. No, this wasn’t that sort of warmth. It was something else and she didn’t know why this was so different.

He’s spoke the words before and usually she would just smile and kiss him. She couldn’t express herself the way he could and every time she tried the words would get stuck in the back of her throat. The closest she’s ever come to saying it was a quick: ‘Yeah, me too.’

Hell, she’s come so far now that it was already a miracle. Years ago she was an ex-convict with an ‘I don’t care’ attitude and made sure she thought of herself before anyone else. Then the hellmouth had really needed her help and soon she had tons of young girls looking for her guidance. She wasn’t sure how B managed to do it all, but now Faith was working her way back up. She’d never be one of the Scoobies but she had her own thing going on right now: and she liked it a little better.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?” he asked, bring his hand down over her inner thigh: making it tremble. When he looked up into her eyes he halted his actions. Her features were completely open: which he’d seen before but this was different. “Faith?”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Then it was one huge flurry of motion. Lips melded together in a heated kiss. Hands moved over warm skin, caressing and molding it like a lover would. And when they were finally together, connected in a way only lovers could be, something clicked. The last piece of the puzzle?

Maybe.

Right now they wouldn’t think about it. Right now they were alone and carefree. The world could be falling apart now, tomorrow, or maybe even a year from now. But they wouldn’t care. They had each other. It was all that mattered and now as they rested again against the soft blanket, arms wrapped around each other as they gave small gifts of touches and soft kisses.

The wind picked up slightly, making the butterflies flutter away in a whirl of motion. The two lovers watched as the winged creatures danced in the breeze. What they didn’t know was that they were free. At that moment: they were free of guilt, pain, and worry. The small cocoon they made was impenetrable and perhaps, soon: they could climb out of the slaying life and be somewhat normal.

Free.

END

Title: Mistaken Identity

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: She thought it was him: and made one hell of a mistake. However, that mistake might come in handy…

Characters: Faith, shapeshifter

Prompt: Faith/Shapeshifter!Dean: “You look like my boy, talk like him, but you sure as hell don’t fuck like him.” -R

Team: Roadhouse   Challenge: #9

Words: 1113

~*~*~*~*What A Wanker*~*~*~*~*

Rochester, MN

June 2007

The motel was on the edge of the town that lay in the state of over 10,000 lakes. The highway that leaded into the south side needed repaving: but traffic was slow at this time of night. Those that were on the road were either ones that stayed late in the bars (who hopefully had a designated driver) or those who were just passing through in search of the interstate.

The motel wasn’t the worst but it sure as hell wasn’t the best one in the states. The paint was fading from the sun but the landscape was clean save for a single candy bar wrapper that was caught in the fence.

The parking lot had a couple cars: a Grand Prix that’s seen better days, a Sunfire that was missing the passenger side mirror, a couple Pick-Ups painted black, and finally: a sleek 1967 Chevy Impala that put all the other cars to shame.

Windows were open thanks to the gentle breeze that filtered cool air into the small rooms that have yet been blessed with air conditioning. One window had a light on and as the breeze picked up the small lace curtains that were meant to add coziness to the room revealed a sight that was anything but cozy.

Two bodies stood at a stand still. One was a man: tense as he stared at a silver stake that gleamed even in the dimmer light. His eyes flashed yellow for a moment: showing the rage that was churning in the depth of his gut. He wasn’t human: but he sure looked like it. His now hazel eyes seemed empty, cold. His full lips were set in a frown due to the situation he was currently in. His hair was in disarray: matching the state of the bed behind him. Both of them hadn’t a stitch of clothing on: making the bite marks and bruises on their tanned skin more noticeable.

 “You look like my boy, talk like him, but you sure as hell don’t fuck like him,” said the woman that held the stake. Her brown eyes were hard, calculating as she took her opponent in. She was comfortable in her own skin: plus this thing has seen everything already so what was the point? What was making her uncomfortable is that she hadn’t known. She thought it was her boyfriend that had taken her against the wall: not the demon. She thought it had been DEAN that made her whole body shake with the best orgasm ANY man had ever given her. However, when seeing the flash of the shifters eyes during his own pleasure: she had known. And here they stood. 

“What can I say? He’s got talent…” The shape shifter licked his lips as he stared at her nude body. “But I’ve got a whole lot more.”

“Please,” she snorted: not wanting him to know he was somewhat right. Though he was rougher and made her cum harder: Dean’s touch was different. He made LOVE to her body. This thing just tossed her around and stuck his dick inside her without even knowing if she was revved or not. At the time it had been a turn on. Now it just made her feel sick. “He KNOWS how to use his cock. You were just poking around.”

“Oh?” She knew it was angry, but she didn’t care. “You called his name over and over again…”

“Bugs you, don’t it?” She asked, wanting to distract him. Best way? Piss him off. “How I called his name. Not yours? That HE was the one that got me off?”

It wanted to make a move. To beat her within an inch of her life to show that it was indeed better. To fuck her until she begged him to stop: until she indeed agreed that HE was better than the hunter whose skin he was borrowing. He made it clear to Dean what he would do to his girl. He’d only got to do half: he wanted to finish the rest of it. However, she had a silver stake: that not even Dean knew about. It had been under her pillow: he’d find it kinky, if it weren’t for silver being his main weakness.

“Please, as I go through the memories: I know he’s never gotten this reaction.” He smiled, a sick smile that made his eyes look crazed. “I did it to you. Tell me, how’s it make you feel? Knowing that he’s somewhere out there, tied up: all alone.”

“He’s very resourceful. He’s already killed a couple of your buddies. Now what’s that line talking about how the third time is the charm? Maybe I’ll do it myself.”

She made a move but he held up his hand to ward her off.

“DEAN!”

She frowned, stake in the air.

“What?”

“You’ll never find him if you kill me.”

“I don’t even know you’ve got him.” She made another move but he ducked. She was quick but he was smart and he had his hand on her neck: his blunt nails digging into the bite mark he had given her.

“You’re the only one that’s made me…” The shifter closed his eyes, a wave of pleasure washing over him. “Feel like this. C’mon Faith, I know you enjoyed it.”

She was about to protest then had an idea. She let the shifter take her in closer. She shivered in disgust when his sweaty skin moved against hers. She felt him, nice and hard against her stomach as his chapped lips kissed hers: making her taste ash and grit. When his tongue touched hers she acted and soon she was staring into his wide eyes.

“Bitch…”

The shifter crumpled to the floor: the silver stake that she had had in her hand was now in the things back. She stepped back, her hands covered in his blood. IT’S blood. It took her a moment to compose herself. It wasn’t every day she killed someone that looked like her lover. She was thinking about a story in her head as she washed her hands.

She walked back to the body then rolled it so that it’s now empty eyes stared at her. She let her hand curl around Dean’s charm then yanked until the tie came loose. She was about to get dressed but then her phone rang: when seeing who it was she eagerly answered.

“Sammy… Yeah I know… He’s here, well was: he’s dead. Dean?… With you? Good!… NO! Don’t come here… Why?” She looked at the scene and winced: until her idea came. “So do you think the feds might buy a shifter being Dean a second time?”

END

Title: What a Wanker

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summmary: They hate each other, but they hate HIM more…

Characters: Spike, Dean… Mention of Angel and Buffy

Prompt: Spike/Dean - "I hate Angel because..." - Pg13

Team: Roadhouse   Challenge: #9

 
Dis: I don't own BTVS or SPN or Angel

Words: 1770

~*~*~*~*

They hated each other. They could barely stand being in the same room. Of course, the odds were totally against them in even forming any sort of truce. One was a vampire: the other was a Hunter. That alone was a formula for disaster. However, the main reason they didn’t get along was standing in the doorway.

Buffy Summers: slayer extraordinaire. Her blonde hair shined even in the dim light of the Council sitting room. Her body was their fantasy: all tight muscles and gentle curves. However, what made both Spike and Dean Winchester fume was that her body was currently wrapped around another vampire that they both hated with a passion.

Angel.

He had managed to show up and ruin their chance with Buffy. It seemed that whenever the Slayer was ready to make a romantic decision for herself HE showed up. Spike was used to him but Dean? Dean hadn’t even known about Angel and now the girl he’s been getting to know both emotionally and psychically was making cow eyes at the vamp.

“I hate that guy,” muttered Dean as he took a long pull from his beer. He then slammed the glass bottle down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand all while glaring at the brunette vamp.

“You hate him?” Spike scoffed. “Try living with him for a decade or two.”

They both stared at the couple until the duo left the kitchens to talk. TALK? Yeah right. In fact, both had plastered fake smiles on their faces, which instantly fell when SHE was out of their sight.

“I mean, what does she see in him? Oh, I’m all tortured and feel bad about killing people. He can’t play that soul card anymore. I got myself a soul: and I didn’t get it forced upon me. I EARNED it and he still gets the bloody girl. And, might I add? He wears lifts.”

“Yeah well, you both got that whole super strength and demon thing going on for ya. I guess she likes that sort of thing. What am I? A credit card scam artist that, according to Faith, hits like a girl.”

Spike chuckled at that and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair he was sitting on. He saw the coffee table before him and put his feet up: getting himself comfortable as he brought up his other hand to take a drink of the beer he had.

“I hate Angel because he can’t keep his mitts off of my girl,” said Spike. “Off of ANY of my girls. Save for Cecily. Though she was never my girl and OI she was Halfrek. Bloody ‘ell if he had her too I’d lose it!:

“I hate Angel because even without an ounce of personality he still gets Buffy’s attention.”

“Oi, good one. He does nothing but brood and bloody ‘ell he’s boring. Singin’ to Barry Mantilow while sittin’ around and reading his books where there are perfectly good demon bars out there to pick fights.”

l

“Uh… huh.” Dean shook his head while taking another drink. “And what is it with him driving a convertible? I mean it’s like he’s asking for something bad to happen.”

“Right! He’s trying too hard to be sodden normal. He doesn’t get it; no matter how many puppies and kiddies you save you’re always going to be a demon. A monster. Sure: I’m a hero. A bloody Champion, but I can admit that I’m a sodden demon.”

“Yeah well, Buffy has that whole “I want to be normal” complex too.”

“True,” said Spike. “And guess who we have to thank for that. Angel’s damaged her. He’s made her crave being normal due to all the malarkey he’s stuffed in her head. Not just him but the wanker Angelus.”

“Angelus?” Dean had a confused look on his face. “Who the hell is that?”

“Angel without a soul. See, when I got my soul I pretty much acted the same way: well, save for the whole basement thing. But that wasn’t my fault. Angel? He turns into a right prick. All about the torture and ending the world.”

“Sounds like a peach,” said Dean.

Spike burst into laughter, slapping his knee before digging into his pockets for some smokes.

“I like to call him Peaches.” He was still chuckling as he lit the cigarette. “Wanker, Sir Broods-a-lot, y’know. Anything to knock him down a peg or two. Or even just annoy him.”

“I know how that goes,” said Dean, thinking of his relationship with Sam. However, if he said Spike and Angel reminded him of he and his brother: one of the vamps would surely not take it light heartedly. He liked his neck unscathed thank you very much: and it was an insult he could save for Spike when Angel finally left. Well, either Angel left, or Dean staked him. It was a Win-Win.

Laughter filtered in through the window and both Dean and Spike growled their frustration. They were both pulled to the window and both couldn’t help but to watch as Buffy put her hand on Angel’s chest.

“That’s it!” Dean turned around and started for the door. “I’m kicking his ass.”

“Don’t be stupid. Buffy loves Angel, you hurt him? Your chances are slim to none. Though I DID hurt him and still ended up with her for a while.”

“Not helping! Besides, if we stake him, it’ll give her a better chance of forgetting about him. I mean, it isn’t like she has a future with him unless her dream marriage is shopping for pigs blood and walking along the beach at age sixty in the middle of the night with someone who looks like her grandson. No offense.”

“I’ve thought of it,” said Spike, sounding almost sad. “I know I’m not the long term guy. But sod it all if she wants to grow old with a vampire, let it be me! Christ, Angel has Wolf girl waiting for him at home: not to mention a son. And might I add that he wiped his sons memory to “protect” him? Lazy git, didn’t want to bother with familial problems and decided to take a deal with the devil instead.”

Dean cringed at that, thinking of the deal he made with Sam. Though that deal was off a long time ago, he still felt guilty due to the pain he put his brother through: though he’d still do it all over again without a thought.

“I really hate that guy,” said Dean again as Buffy laughed at something he said.

“Yeah…” Spike’s face then perked up. “Want to go take the Convertible for a spin? It would drive Peaches up the wall and, well: we could accidentally hit a bunch of signs…”

Dean seemed to be thinking about it.

“I don’t like you either.”

“Well I don’t bloody like you!” Spike dangled the keys he nicked from Angel. “But until Angel is gone… Lets have us a party…”

END

Title: Of Operas, Éclairs, and Booze

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Ripper Giles is bored: then he meets a girl named Ellen. Both want to get back at their parents… And they do it with pizzazz… sorta

Pairing: Ellen/Giles

Genre: Humor

Rating: PG-13, lang

Challenge: #8, Roadhouse

Dis: I don’t own SPN or BTVS

Words: 1266

~*~*~*~*~*

Rupert Giles had a not so secret past: thanks to Ethan Rayne and his constant need to make chaos. He was known as the Ripper and had done some terrible, unspeakable things in his youth. Along the way he had met some people he’d rather forget: but there was also a girl. An insufferable American girl who had hair brighter than the sun and the deepest, most innocent brown eyes he had ever seen. He had no idea, then: that she was almost as bad as he was…

Thirty Three Years Ago…

New York City, NY

“Mum,” groaned Ripper as he disheveled his hair. “Bloody well stop it.”

“Rupert!” His mother tutted as she put on her best pearl earrings. “We will be going to the Opera and I will NOT have my only son looking like I grabbed him off the streets! Now comb your hair down or else I’ll take your allowance for the week away.”

“Mum!” Ripper rolled his eyes as he reluctantly patted his hair down. “Insufferable twit.”

“What was that darling?” asked his mother from the bathroom.

“Ah, nothing! Just that it’s a nice night, innit?”

“Yes.” His mother was a vision in blue silk, pearls, and curls. “Now where is your father?”

“He’s bringing the car around,” said Ripper as he took out a smoke.

“Rupert!” His mother took it away and threw it in the trash. “Unbelievable. When we get back home, it’s off to private school!”

He decided then to tune her out. She was always threatening Private school. In the end he always won with his father. He was a growing boy, and at his age he was expected to act out. What a bunch of rubbish. He had his old man in the palm of his hand, and the old git didn’t even know it. However, he did have to play along some nights so that he DID get that large weekly allowance.

“Whatever you say, Mum,” said Ripper as he exited the room. He ignored her as she called for him and he walked down the posh looking hallway to the large elevator. They weren’t on the top floor: much to his mother’s dismay. Another family had gotten the penthouse and after a couple hours of fighting with the managers his father finally stepped in to take the next best.

He pushed the elevator button and put his hands in his pockets to wait. The elevator dinging and the gold doors opened to reveal a sight that left him breathless. No, not the fat old cow and her short, stalky husband. He was looking at the young girl wrapped in a black gown that accented every single one of her curves. His eyes met hers and he didn’t break eye contact when he stepped in. In fact, his azure eyes bored into her chocolate brown in a way that made her pale cheeks flush. He smiled to himself as he turned his back to her. He could almost feel her staring at him and he ignored her: watching as the numbers counted down to the lobby. When they opened he saw his family’s car waiting outside and he hung back as let the two older adults go. When the young lady went he did as well and walked beside her.

“Where are you off to?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Is it the Opera?” he asked as he stood before her then started to walk backwards. “Phantom of the Opera?”

“Perhaps,” she said with a sniff.

“What a bore,” he said with a smile. “But maybe I’ll enjoy the show more if I see you there.”

She faltered in her step and he grinned before turning back to face the doors to his car. He nodded at his driver then got in. He found her staring at him as the door closed and he smiled to himself.

Title: See, Want, Have

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Jo is upset about Dean not noticing her, so she goes out of the Roadhouse and encounters a Slayer and her Vampire.

Characters: Jo, Buffy, Spike, Andrew

Challenge: #8, Roadhouse

Genre: Romance/Drama

Words: 1108

------

She was in a sour mood. Dean had come to the Roadhouse with Sam and a couple other hunters and he hadn’t even acknowledged her. Well, if he needed a beer then she was his best friend. It made her sick how he groped that other Slayer named Faith.

“Faith. What kind of name is Faith, anyway? A dumb one saved for a slut, that’s what.”

Jo sighed: she was being catty. She hated it when other women were catty and here she was doing the same thing. She bit her lip to help keep in the tears that wanted to fall. She was in the back room and was vaguely aware of her mother calling her name, wondering where the hell she’d gone off to. Well, she wasn’t ready to go out there just yet so she hurried to the back door and went out into the darkness.

The night was comforting, wrapping itself around her like a cloak. The back light cast a soft orange glow that was slightly dimmed due to the moths and spiders that were attracted to its luminescence. However, the air was a bit chilly and goosebumps traveled up her bare arms. She cursed herself for not bringing a jacket and was about to turn and go back in but a soft sigh caught her attention.

Curious, she turned back to the night and narrowed her eyes. She tried to see through the darkness but she couldn’t see anything. That soft sigh was followed by a giggle and she moved to the right. Past the dumpster. Past the bushes her mother insisted on planting to increase the hominess of the place. She stilled when seeing, two figures in the dim light. Silhouettes of a man and a woman. She couldn’t remember their names but the one man had bright, platinum blond hair. She remembered liking his jacket, but it wasn’t on him right now. It lay in the dirt, along with the small blondes shirt.

Jo blushed when getting what it was she was witnessing. Those sighs were escaping the woman’s lips due to the kisses the man was giving her against her neck. Jo watched as the mans hands traveled up the woman’s torso then covered her breast. Jo was feeling a little warm and a bit weak in the knees.

“Spike,” whimpered the woman as she let her head fall to the side. “Someone might see.”

“C’mon, luv…” Whispered Spike. “It’s half the thrill…”

“Spike…” she said, her voice a soft warning.

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, kissing her cheek while his hands moved to her hips: then the button to her jeans. “Let me love you like I want to. Trust me?”

Jo watched as Buffy nodded then kissed Spike back. Both blondes tugged at clothing and Jo was just stuck in place: unable to move. She was still a virgin, and the trashy romance novels she snuck in past her mother were nothing like this. The intensity the pair had for each other was huge. Movements were frantic as if they feared the other would vanish.

Jo felt sensations between her legs and she bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning. She wanted to see, had to see. And moaning would for sure let them know someone was watching.

Buffy gave a loud moan and Jo knew why. Spike was inside her, moving against her. Jo heard the sounds of skin slapping skin. Buffy started to whimper and Jo watched: she couldn’t turn away. Until, that is, she saw what Spike really was. A freakin vampire! How did she know? He was biting Buffy, but not in the ‘I want to kill you’ way… It was in the ‘I want you to be mine’ way.

“SPIKE!” Buffy shattered around him: and Jo had to lean against the Roadhouse to keep from falling over. “Oh God!”

“Say it,” he growled. “Say you’re mine!”

“Yours…” She whispered. “Only yours…”

Jo stepped back then: unable to take more. She went into the back room and started fanning her bright red cheeks. When that didn’t work she opened the back freezer and stepped in.

‘Holy Hell…’ she thought. ‘I never knew it could be like that…’

“Um? Jo?”

Jo turned to see one of the last hunters that had come along with Dean, Faith, Buffy, and Spike. No, it wasn’t Sam. Sam had decided to stay in Cleveland with someone else to research the demon. Dean, not wanting to sit around: went to a hunt near here with FAITH and everyone else: even this guy, which was strange. He didn’t look so tough.

“Yeah? Sorry, I don’t know your name.

“Andrew,” he said softly. “Most people forget, so it’s ok.”

“Andrew.” Damn she was horny. “What do you want?”

“Um, your mom is about ready to go crazy looking for you. So I volunteered because it was getting heavy between Dean and Faith. Also? May I ask what you’re doing in a freezer?”

“Cooling off.”

“It’s cold outside,” he suggested.

“No.” Jo burst out in laughter. “It’s not. Say Andrew?”

“Hm?”

Seeing Buffy and Spike made her want. Seeing Dean with Faith made her angry and she wanted to get back at him. She knew this was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself. She sauntered up to Andrew and backed him up against the shelf inside the freezer holding bags of peas.

“Are you ok?” he asked. “Should I get---EYAH!”

Jo had him by the arm and she hauled him out of the freezer. She checked for her mother and when not seeing her, Jo made her way up the back stairs. She hustled with Andrew tripping behind her. When coming to her room she opened the door, shoved him inside, and then locked it. She looked at him: puny, but he looked like he might be able to get the job done.

“Andrew…” Jo walked up to him, they were about the same height, and she pressed herself against him. “ I need you right now.”

“O-Oh?” Andrew was getting nervous. “You do?”

“Yeah…” She backed up, lifted her shirt, and then let it drop. “I do.”

“But I’m Ga-“

She kissed him putting herself into it. He tentatively responded and she shoved him back so that he fell against her bed. She smiled as she started undoing her pants.

“Drop your pants,” she said. “Now.”

“O-Ok…”

--------

They lay in her bed, on their backs, looking up at the ceiling. They didn’t look at each other right away but Jo finally turned her head to the side to meet the bright blue eyes of Andrew.

“Wow…”

-------

END!

Title: Down and Dirty

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Dis: I don’t own BTVS or SPN

Characters: Faith, Kat, Mr. Tink

Genre: Humor/Action

Summary: Faith dislikes Mr. Tink, and when opportunity comes a knockin to go kick his ass… She doesn’t hesitate!

Words: 1425

 ~-~-~-~-~

Faith gritted her teeth while listening to the bastard in front of her. She hated him, from his trimmed tie to his snotty little attitude that just made her want to smash his face in. Maybe a few years ago she would have but she was a good girl now. So here she was, forced to sit here as one of the lone Watchers that survived the bombing educated the girls on some battle tactics. It wasn’t like she already knew most of it but she had felt bad and let him in. God how she was regretting it now.

“How’s it going?” asked a Slayer in training. What was her name again? She was new and Faith could never remember. She was a kid, about seventeen? Just about the same age she had been when she was called. Then, she remembered.

“Ah, it’s going, Kat.” Faith’s nostrils flared as the obnoxious voice broke through their conversation. She noticed that he was staring at her. He looked like he swallowed a lemon and he didn’t look happy that she wasn’t paying attention. “What did you say?”

Mr. Tink, the Englishman that would make Wes look like a normal person, puffed out his chest and blinked rapidly. He took off his glasses, a typical English thing to do, and cleaned them as he spoke.

“We were just discussing the battle strategies for fighting a hellhound. Care to share?”

‘I’d like to share my fist with your face,’ she thought to herself as she smiled brightly.

“But you were doing such a bang up job.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” said Mr. Tink as he smirked a smirk that she wanted off of his face. A few giggles made her look around the room and the girls sobered when seeing the death glare they were receiving.

“Please, you kill them like anything else,” said Faith. “Beheading, a stake or arrow through the heart and if all else fails...”

She leaned forward, capturing his eyes with her own and he swore she saw his Adams’ apple bobbing. She slowly smiled, fully enjoying herself. Hah, he can’t have his scones and eat it too. It was time for some payback.

“You grab it by the head, and twist until the neck snaps.”

“V-Very good, I, ah…” He turned his back on her and she smirked as he wrote what she said on the board. “Excellent Faith.”

“You’re so bad,” whispered Kat.

“I know,” said Faith as she propped her feet up on the chair in front of her. “I almost feel guilty.”

So she sat there for she was an example after all. She didn’t want the girls ending up like her. Alone. Guilty. And all those other bad words that just made her head hurt when thinking of them. She was a killer, yes. She had blood on her hands though she wasn’t the only one guilty of that action. Which was probably why she and Willow turned into such buddy buddies. Years ago Faith would’ve slit her throat. Years ago Willow would’ve skinned her alive. They’ve gotten past that now, though…

Mostly.

“Faith?”

‘Argh, leave me alone,’ she said to herself.

“What?”

“The class if over,” said Mr. Tink.

Faith blinked and looked around just in time to see Kat waving. Faith nodded then turned to the professor.

“I know this isn’t a class for you, Faith. From what I heard you lacked, well, a lot of things,” said the Professor and her hands clenched: nails digging in the chair.

“Listen, asshole. I am the one that brought you in, I could take you out-”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, sneering at her.

Which was a change of pace. Professor was a week little midget. Not the cocky little sneer-er. She started growing uneasy and she stood from her seat. The Professor grinned and the next thing she knew she was flying back against her seat: an intense pain in her gut. She looked up to see his black eyes and she cursed as her blood began to boil.

“You mother-“ she wa cut off by another wave of pain. “Argh What is it with you Watcher bastards turning evil!”

“Now, now Faith. Watch that pretty little mouth of yours, before I rip out your tongue.”

“I’m going to kill you,” she said from gritted teeth as she tried to move. “And I might enjoy it.”

“Now that’s the Faith I want to see,” said the cheery man as he tossed his glasses to the floor. “Angry. All full of darkness. You make me and my master feel… Tingly.”

Faith reared back as he leaned in to her, breath hot and smelling like onions. His clammy hand caressed her cheek as she twisted her head around to try and avoid his stare. His power was great and soon she was looking into his coal black orbs. What he didn’t see was her one hand behind her back: gripping the dagger she always kept with her. His power was great, so she needed to distract him.

“I should’ve known. Only a demon uses the retarded name: Mr. Tink. I mean I’ve heard Mr. Trick once. He was scarier. Also? That tutting thing you do all the time? I always thought it was a nervous habit, but it was just your demons ways wasn’t it? Lousy job at undercover.”

“Worked on you, didn’t it?”

Then the door opened and Kat stood there, surprised at the scene before her.

“Get out of here,” yelled Faith.

“No.” The door closed behind Kat. “Stay. I’ll have fun with you later.”

“No.” Faith kicked out: due to him releasing some power from her to work the door. “You won’t. C’mon Tinkerbell, let’s see what you got.”

Faith wasn’t sure what the hell this person, thing, was. Its black eyes led her toward someone that was having a little too much fun with the Dark Arts. However, the sinister look on its face. It made her wonder if it was something else.

It didn’t fight too well in hand-to-hand it was more dependant on magic’s. Silent magic due to him not having to utter a single incantation. She winced as a couple chairs came up to slam into her body. She put her arms up to block but was still knocked down. Tink got close enough for her to kick him in the knee. When it snapped, he just smiled.

Okay, so demon?

“What ARE you?”

“The future.” The demon lashed out at her and she braced her hands on his upper arms, fell back, and then flipped him over her body. He landed on his back and she was up fast. She crouched down, gripped him by the lapels of his tweed jacket, then brought her fist forward to land on his face. 

“This is for those charts you made me look over.”

Punch.

“This is for all those annoying habits that I hated that I can’t list now cause there are too many.”

Punch.

“And this is just for the main fact that I don’t like you!”

Punch.

The demon had had enough abuse and tossed Faith backwards. She grunted as she landed on her ass then slid until her back was against the main desk in the study room. She was pushed harder and harder until the demon was right in front of her.

“Now what’re you going to do,” hissed the demon.

“This,” informed Kat and the demon turned just in time to get a face full of chair. “By the way? Your charts sucked.”

The demon howled but both Faith and Kat stood to face it. Tink was kicked on both sides of the head then was double punched in the gut. He groaned then fell to the floor in unconsciousness as Faith tossed him headfirst into the desk she had been pressed against.

“That felt good,” said Kat, a little breathless. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” said Faith as she put a hand on her hip. “Now, lets go find those Winchester men. Or pie. One of the two.”

“Um…” Kat looked over at the unconscious demon. “Shouldn’t we… Detain him?”

“Don’t worry,” said a smirking Faith. “Willow knows she’s on her way.”

“That’s weird,” said Kat. “When you do that thing with her. It’s weird.”

END

Title: Maxie the Vampire Slayer

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Max has a gift, and it’s up to Dawn and Lucas to tell her all about it.

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Characters: Dawn, Lucas, Alec, Max

Challenge: #7, Roadhouse

Dis: I don’t own BTVS, SPN, or DA

Note: Lucas is Andrea’s son in Dead in the Water.

Words: 1628

0-0-0-0-0-0

Once upon a time there was a girl. She alone had the power to fight and battle the evil demons and vampires of the world. She was the Slayer: born to do what mankind could not. Then, suddenly she was gone. At a time there was thousands of Slayers protecting the land. However, the line had been severed, broken. No other Slayers could be called and today, in this world, there are few remaining. They die, but no more come. They scream, but there is no one else left to comfort them. They just go, knowing that their job is now done. Sad: knowing that the fate of the world was at stake. And now, it was up to her to find the one girl that was destined to begin the Slayer line again. The one to help restore the balance of the world.

She would regain that balance in Seattle, Washington. Aurors and Seers lead her here to what once was a flourishing city. There were no more bright ferryboats, no bright space needle, and no more hope. This world was broken and also open to an attack.

She was one of a small percentage of people that had a car to travel in. Beside her, her partner fidgeted in his seat while pulling at his tie. This was his first job. Though this matter was quite delicate, he was the one that was most qualified.

“Worried, Lucas?”

“No.” He sighed as he put his hands on his lap and linked them together. “Yes.”

“With good reason. If she doesn’t want to listen to us, the whole world may be doomed.”

He cringed while turning his head to look at her. His brown eyes were worried and he ran a hand through his red hair.

“Did you have to put it that way, Dawn?”

“Sorry.” She smiled softly while making another turn, peering through her rimmed glasses for the sign of the local bar. “I couldn’t help myself.”

She parked her car then debated about leaving it. The car she parked next to looked like Swiss cheese from all the bullet holes in it. The windows were shattered: leaving plastic to be the one thing to keep the breeze, bugs, and rain out. Parked next to it were a couple bikes that looked shiny and free of any scratches. So maybe the guy that car belonged to was just a lousy driver?

So she took off her seatbelt, grabbed her folder, then got out of the car. She sighed, her breath showing in the crisp air. She adjusted her glasses to see that the sign of the bar read Crash. Straightening her suit she motioned for Lucas to follow behind her and soon the loud music that she used to enjoy assaulted her ears. Smoke hazed some parts of the place and her heels slid against the wet surface of the floor. Behind her she could hear Lucas coughing and she hoped that his asthma didn’t act up in here. She opened her folder to look at the pictures of the woman that was sent her by an informant.

She was known as X5-452. But she was so much more. She scanned photos of her at work, then at the Jam Pony incident. Finally that of her holding hands with someone, Dawn was confused by the latex glove until she was informed of the retro virus. Then she had just been disturbed. If all else, Dawn could dangle the cure in front of her nose to get her to listen to them. However, she needed to find Max Guevera first.

“There,” said Lucas, pointing at the pool tables.

She saw Max, huddled at a table with the guy in the photo. Dawn watched as she shied away from his gloved hand and she wondered if that cure could be used after all. Then there was another guy who entered the picture and if she were ten or twenty years younger she’d make a move.

“Holy…” Lucas shook his head when seeing the man. “Can’t be…”

“You okay?”

“Uh, he just looks like someone I used to know,” said Lucas, thinking of the two men that had saved his life: The Winchesters.

“She’s leaving,” said Dawn. “Back outside. We can talk to her there.”

“She’s not going to hurt us, is she?”

“We’ll see.”

Dawn walked out and waited patiently for Max to come out. She didn’t expect the other guy to follow: the one with the brilliant green eyes and cocky smile. They were almost to their bikes when Dawn called her name.

“Max?”

The woman stopped, her body tense as she looked the suit over. She screamed the business type and Max was already put off. Then she worried that this girl knew who she was and she prepared herself for a fight incase she was one of those punk ass Familiars.

“Yea?”

“We need to talk,” said Dawn, keeping her voice gentle. “We have answers for you. Answers you’ve been searching for.”

“And who the hell are you?” asked the guy.

Dawn noticed that he stepped slightly in front of Max. It made Dawn wonder about their relationship. Yep, cure was out, but it could be useful. She sighed while adjusting her glasses and she decided to get to the point. Like ripping off the band-aid.

“I’m Dawn Summers, with the Watcher’s Council in England. And you, 452, are the Chosen one. Oh, yes, I know all about Manticore. How it was created and by whom. You see, it all dates back to 2003 when hundreds of girls like you were made. Not my the laboratory, but by magic.”

Dawn lifted her hand and a small flame formed at her palm, she whispered ‘freeze’ and the flame froze into a twisting mass of ice. Through all of that, Alec and Max watched with dropped jaws.

“How did you…” Alec shook his head. “This is…”

“Those markings on your body?” Dawn’s eyes met Max’s. “They mean more than what you think. It’s up to you to stop the forces of evil. Everything that you thought was a fairy tale is real. And it’s up to you to stop it… You, are a Slayer.”

“A what?” Max wasn’t trusting her one bit. “I’m not buying this.”

“Nightmare,” said Dawn, making Max freeze. “Of girls you don’t even know dying. An increased sense of your environment: sensing danger before any human or trans-human could. Feeling like something is pissing at night when you’re inside at night, not out on the prowl. On the hunt.”

Max’s breath increased. All those things were true. At Jam Pony she sensed the danger of white before anyone else. When sleeping she saw a new death every night of a girl she indeed didn’t know. And she did have those symbols: this woman knew a lot about her.

“So…” Alec broke the ice, putting a hand on Max’s shoulder. “A Slayer? This enhances her already super-superpowers? Would explain why you were able to kick me ass.”

“Please,” said Max, trying to stop that smile. “You just looking for excuses.”

“Well… Yeah,” said Alec, smiling.

“We hate to bring this all on you,” said Lucas, still uncomfortable around Alec. “But we can tell you everything you need to know. About Manticore and how it was made. About Familiars. And more about Slayers and the prophecy that you are part of.”

“I need to go to England for this?” asked Max.

“Heavens no,” said Dawn. “We have a branch in LA and another in Cleveland. Whichever you want to go to is fine with us. We have great resources in each city.”

“This is a lot to take in. I have my people to worry about. I have…” Max sighed. “I have too much here.”

“You won’t be gone long,” assured Dawn. “And wouldn’t you want to tell your people where they are from? Why they were made? Why they exist?”

“I…” Max against swallowed the large lump in her throat. “I mean…”

“We’ll give you a day to think it over.” Dawn reached into her purse slowly, knowing that they were watching her every move. “Here is my card.”

Max stared at the card in her hand. The number beckoned her to call it. She bit her lower lip while thinking it over. She talked to her people about it and most wanted her to check this Council out while others were thinking she was just using it as an excuse to run. Though, according to Dawn, she wouldn’t be gone long.

A knock at her door made her look up. It slowly swung open and Alec was there. He closed the door behind him and then sat right next to her. Their positions matched. Sitting on the floor, backs resting against the couch, and knees slightly bent. They sat in silence until he decided to speak.

“You going?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You should,” he said, turning to look at her. “We need answers, YOU need answers. We’ll be ok for a while.”

“So you think we can trust them?”

“I got the vibe.” Alec shrugged. “Though that guy kept looking at me as if I was a ghost or something.”

Max thought about it then nodded.

“I’ll go. I’ve been looking for answers my entire life. We all have wanted answers at some time in our lives. The more I can learn about Manticore and the Familiars, the better. Sides, I’m this Slayer chick now. I can just kick their ass.”

“Maxie the Vampire Slayer,” said Alec out loud. “Sounds kinda like a TV show.”

She smiled, but still smacked him against the arm.

“Jerk.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Maxie.”

FIN