Twisted Wonderland

Remember (FR-18) MA

Sun, 05 Jul 2009 00:09:17 GMT

Title: Remember
Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: He was more than that, though, he was her lover: the love of her life, and he was gone.

Genre: Angst/Romance
Rated: FR-18
Fandoms: DA/SPN
Pairing: Max/Dean
Spoilers: All of DA, SPN up to 4x01
Challenge: #3 (Crossover)
Team: Hunter

Words: 5555
Dis: I don’t own DA or SPN

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I’ve still got your face, painted on my heart
Scrawled upon my soul, etched upon my memory
~Cult ‘Painted on My Face’

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The sky was clear of any cloud cover and the breeze was soft, almost gentle. The temperature was just right, a comfortable seventy-three degrees. She walked softly on the grassy field, entering a small wooded area. The full branches of leaves blotted out the sun, and she felt comforted the closer she got to the grave marked with a wooden cross. She hesitated before finishing the journey to the cross and it finally hit her. Her knees couldn’t hold her weight anymore so she went down on them, a sob caught in her throat making her hiccup as her hands rested on the dry grass, just above where her friend, her pain-in-the-ass companion, rested. He was more than that, though, he was her lover: the love of her life, and he was gone.

“Alec…” She pressed her lips together, eyes clenching as her hands fisted in the grass. Dirt was under her nails now but she didn’t care as she slouched forward, body shaking. “Dean.”

Tears gathered in her chocolate brown eyes before falling, plopping softly onto the grass. Her hiccupping cries turned into sobs as her nose started to run. No one was around to judge her, to see her weakness, so she lost it. After a few minutes she calmed enough to open her eyes and look up at the simple brown cross. Her fingertips, which stuck out from her riding gloves, grazed across the rough wooden cross. She sat up, wiping her cheeks with the bottom of her black tank top, before sighing shakily. Her legs came up to so that she could wrap her arms around them and rest her cheek against her bent knees, sitting like she had so many times before on the Space Needle.

When getting the call from Sam, she’d been in denial. After he explained everything from the deal to Lilith, she felt something inside her break. She had demanded to know where he was buried and had been on her bike within the hour, racing out of Seattle, through the mountains of Montana, and finally into the prairie of South Dakota.

“Idiot,” she said, her voice lacking the biting tone of an insult. “How could you be so stupid?”

She closed her eyes as memories assaulted her mind. Of the day he came to her to tell her he remembered something… something that Psy Ops couldn’t erase. A family, with a real dad and a real brother, something neither of them thought they’d ever have. Logan had done his magic, a little too willingly. Max knew it was in hopes to get Alec, ugh she needed to remember to call him Dean, out of TC to search for his past, so that she was left alone for him to pursue again. Instead, however, when they found John Winchester’s whereabouts, they had both gone. It could have been a trap, and they didn’t want to risk it. What they had stumbled upon in southern Louisiana would forever be imprinted in her mind.

A ghost, of a little girl, hissing and coming at her and Dean, then erupting into a pillow of smoke-like substance: showing an elder man with a rifle in his hands behind her. Max had never seen such a vulnerable look on Dean’s face before, his face falling even as he did his best to control his features.

“Dad?”

So soft, so sweet and lost, and the two men had embraced. The shotgun had fallen from John’s hands, so when the ghost emerged again, pissed at having been shot at, it was Dean who had reacted, picking up the shotgun and shooting the spirit before it could harm Max.

John had spoken of losing Dean at the age of ten, that he’d gone to get food in the diner and came back to find Sam sleeping soundly in the back seat but Dean gone. He had looked for over five years until accepting the fact that he was lost. It was then that Sam, a tall man with blue eyes and shaggy brown hair, had come down the stairs to see the family reunion.

They had left the house and Max let Alec, no, Dean, ride with his family. Each mile ridden to the cemetery made her face fall more and more. She knew she was going to lose him before the end of the journey where they dug up the grave of Sue Ellen May, doused her in gasoline and salt, then Dean had done the honors and lit a match: eyes sparkling from the glow of the flame before flicking the match to make the whole grave catch fire.

Max hadn’t been a believer in ghosts and demons before. Of course, anything was possible since she was made up in a test tube. Or was she? Maybe she was like Dean, taken from a loving family and then brainwashed to become a super soldier while tests were done on her to make her what she was. Then, maybe after the stabilized DNA of the X-5, they decided to breed the success stories. Max didn’t know. She was still looking for any answers to explain why Dean was taken, and has yet to find any save for his father’s connection with the Marines.

After the spirit was laid to rest, they had gotten two motel rooms. Max insisted that it was ok for Dean to leave her alone, that he needed to catch up with his family. Then, they had only been friends, the bond between them still new. She was his second, because many of TC were still reluctant to have an ‘09er run the delegations of the place, especially an 09er with so many feelings towards ordinaries. Dean had used that to her advantage in being the Second, because SOMEBODY had to deal with the humans just outside their gate.

The journey had been long and hard, the night before making preparations had her tired so she’d drug out her pack and picked out the one pair of sleeping shorts she brought and pulled them on after using her shower. The bathroom was small, but still better than what she had at home, and she’d used the water till it ran cold and had just gotten dressed when there was a knock on her door. She’d tensed, silently padded to the door, and then opened it when seeing Alec, Dean, on the other side.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He waltzed in, hands in the pockets of his brown bomber, and stood in the middle of her room as she closed then locked the door. They stood in silence for a good ten minutes before he turned to her. His usually happy hazel eyes were conflicted, lost. “Tell me what to do.”

She had frowned, gestured for him to take a seat on her bed, and he did so without making any remark about her sitting next to him. No innuendo about her getting him in the sack, nothing. Which meant he was being serious, dead serious, and so she remained quiet until he spoke.

“I didn’t think I’d get this.” He sighed, running a hand through his already mussed up hair. “A family. Each story they tell me, memories come back. Like all I needed was a trigger. Demon hunters, wow.” He chuckled before he finally looked her in the eye. “I can’t go back.”

Max hissed in a breath, and then nodded. She tried schooling her features, but he’d always been able to look past her barriers and he wound an arm around her shoulders, placing his chin atop her head in a familiar sense of comfort.

“This isn’t goodbye, Maxie. I’ll still pop in. I just… I need…”

“To find yourself.”

“Sounds dorky and corny, I know, but…” He shrugged. “I think you can handle TC without me.”

“Alec…”

“Dean.”

“Huh? Oh, right, Dean…” Max closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to miss you.”

“Yeah…” She didn’t see the sadness in his eyes as he looked down at her, the longing. Instead she’d been looking down at her clasped hands. “Me, too.”

For months, she’d run TC on her own. They’d been well on their way to delegating peaceful treaties with the ordinaries. Leadership had been harder than she thought, and a phone call from Dean once a week made it easier. Then the calls went from once a week to once every other week… Soon, she’d grown angry, because the calls stopped coming. Since he left she’d only seen him once, two months prior to the last phone call, and he’d been happy. She’d been jealous, but had done her best to not let it show.

Then it happened, the moment she’d feared since the first day of making their stand. They were attacked. Later, the mayor and military refused to accept blame, saying they hadn’t been involved. Max believed them, because she knew it had been White. She’d been in the conference room, speaking with Logan on the web cam when the first explosion sounded. She hadn’t been able to give orders to take cover before the whole command room erupted into fire and smoke. She’d been blown clear from the room, her whole body being launched through a wall. Everything had turned to black and she’d awakened to find flames all around her. She’d crawled on her hands and knees to check on others. Dead. She managed to find a sidearm in the back pocket of an X-5 and checked it before limping out of command.

She’d found a baby ten minutes later, screaming in the arms of one of the many women affected by the Manticore breeding program. She’d re-wrapped it in the tattered, soot-covered blanket and held it close all while stepping over body after body. Explosion after explosion rocked the base and a couple times she’d stumble and brace herself against a still standing wall. One nasty bomb made a support beam grazed her shoulder with enough force to have it skinned and bleeding, the fabric of her long-sleeved shirt torn away.

There was a spot they had all decided upon, to go to in case of an emergency such as this one. It’d taken her an hour to make it, but soon she was alone in the sewers of TC, comforting a scared infant, barely able to stand on her two feet. She slid to sit on a crate that she knew was filled with supplies but she didn’t have the strength to open it. After a few moments, shuffling feet made her stand, on alert, then deflate as Mole, Dalton, and a few other young X-6’s came to her.

“Max!” Dalton was by her side in an instant, checking her wounds but she waved him off, instead offering him the child. “We were training on the outskirts of TC when the first explosion hit. You… you’re the first…”

“That we’ve seen alive and kickin’,” finished Mole, and he still managed to have a cigar in him mouth as well as his trusty rifle. “Found Tish and Glitch but… they didn’t make it.”

Max nodded, wincing as an X6 cleaned her arm with antiseptic taken from the crate. After waiting for another hour, which was the amount of time they could wait before risking the chance of being caught in the tunnels, only two others joined the group, two females who’d been trapped in a basement and managed to get out. The group of twelve soldiers and the baby maneuvered around the tunnels for an additional three hours, and exited into an abandoned warehouse where vehicles were stashed.

“Some are missing,” said Max weakly, her body being held up by Devil, an X-6 with a scar on his lip, muscles any would kill for, but a kind heart that let her know he picked the wrong name. “Others got out. Had to…”

“Little fella?”

“JOSHUA!” She’d been scared he hadn’t made it, and seeing the large dog-man (Ugh, Alec and his names), made her heart leap with joy. She ran into his arms, forgetting about her injuries long enough to hug him. “You’re alive!”

“Others said you wouldn’t come. Joshua waited.”

“Who?” asked Mole.

“Luke. Quinn. Pixel. Others Joshua do not know.” They all nodded and finally, Joshua helped Max into a large van with Mole, Dalton, and Devil. The others took two sedans and took the route safest out of TC. Devil drove the van, Mole and Joshua staying in the back and staying low. Max then took that time to close her eyes, but was awakened by the vibration in her pocket. Her phone. “Little fella vibrating!”

“Ugh…” Max sat up, wincing. She looked around her to see nothing but woods surrounding them and reached into her jeans pocket for her phone. She saw the name and instantly answered. “Dean.”

“MAX! Thank God. Where are you?”

“I’m…” She leaned forward. “Devil. We’re going to the Idaho base, yes?”

“Yes.”

“On my way to Idaho.” Since the newer, stricter laws about crossing into Canada, they had assembled a large team to find the most secluded area in Idaho near the mountains and set up shop there. Funds were leaked from TC each month, and with the amount of survivors that made it out… she was certain there’d be enough to last. “You on the news?”

“So far they’ve found five survivors. They’re bringing them to the hospital.”

“Once we get things settled in Idaho I’ll make my way back and get them.”

“Jesus, Max.” He sounded tired. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“I… passed out.”

“You ok?”

“Nothin’ new. Been there, done that,” she said with a smile.

“I’m meeting you in Idaho.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Want to. I’m a couple hours out. Was in North Dakota.”

“I’ll see you when I get there then…” She closed her phone and sighed, resting her head against the seat.

“Princess coming back to us?” asked Mole. Who had actually understood Dean leaving, at first, but with the lack of communication he was starting to grow bitter.

“Yeah.”

“Good, I have a few choice words to say to him.”

“Me too,” said Max softly, still watching the trees pass by…

That incident had happened over a year ago. Max still teared up when thinking of all the lives lost. Only thirty-nine of the hundreds that resided in TC survived. The Idaho base currently housed over 200 transgenic bodies, all of which were on a constant alert. When Dean had arrived, it was before Max and when they finally say each other for the first time in months she had embarrassingly hobbled to him and accepted the tight hug. She had missed his scent, his touch, HIM. She remembered the feel of his lips at her temple, of his hands moving slow circles around her back, the sound of his harsh breathing against her ear: holding in the anger that wanted to come out when seeing her hurt. He admitted that to her later.

“I got you,” he whispered.

“Alec,” she whispered, forgetting for a moment, who he really was. “They’re dead.”

“I know.” He had helped her to the room that housed others that had made it. They looked at Max and Dean in surprise and the whispering started as soon as he pulled the makeshift curtain around her bed for privacy. The Idaho base had been prepared, and had room for all the survivors. After a few stitches, a change of clothes, and a bowl of water to wash most of the grime off, she felt better.

Dean hadn’t left her side as she gave orders to her people. She met with Gem, who had taken command of the Idaho base long ago with Max’s full trust. Together, they managed one of the largest tragedies to ever happen to the transgenic race. Once the sun fell, and the moon was high in the sky, most of them were asleep. Exhausted. Max and Dean couldn’t sleep; instead they walked in the woods, the colder, cleaner air comforting.

He was different, dressed in ragged jeans and flannel. It suited him, especially when accentuated with the stubble on his face and the haircut that let her really look into his eyes. The constant fighting he did against evil let him fill out much like Devil and she was suddenly nervous about the way she was feeling about him. They had stopped at one of the many hundreds of trees and she leaned against it, her eyes closing while the feel of bark against her skin was oddly comforting.

“Hey…” His hand at her back made her open her eyes and he was suddenly there. He pulled her in again and she welcomed his warmth because she didn’t have a coat. It was cooler in Idaho, and the gray t-shirt and jeans weren’t warm enough. Maybe it had been the shock that made her so cold. Maybe it was the shock that made her tilt her head up and look into his hazel eyes that reflected the white glow of the moon. His hand had come up, pulling strands of her hair that escaped the makeshift tie atop her head, and her eyes closed as his fingertips trailed down her cheek. “Max. I thought…”

“I know.”

Then his lips were on hers and her brain finally stopped working. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, until he broke the kiss. She hadn’t known she closed her eyes until she opened them to see Dean swallowing nervously. He then grinned and was ready to shrug off what he did with some lame excuse, so she stopped him by kissing him again, her palms sliding across his rough cheeks into his hair while his hands kept a steady grip on her hips. When she broke the kiss, she slid her hands down his arms to his wrists then started walking back to base. He followed, much like he used to back at TC before he left. His phone rang once, then twice, but he ignored it as she did hers when seeing that she had five missed calls from Logan when she got to what was considered her room. It was small, but it had a bed, and she turned to face him.

“Max, you’ve been through a lot, maybe we…” So she kissed him again, hands moving to his flannel shirt and pulling it off of his shoulders to land silently on the concrete floor. She didn’t give him a chance to speak as she then tugged his gray shirt out from the waistband of his jeans and finally over his head. She leaned forward, lips grazing over a new tattoo, and he hissed in a breath as she kissed his neck while toeing off her shoes. “God, Maxie.”

He then got into the game, hands moving to the hem of her shirt before slowly pulling it up over her head. Her eyes remained locked on his as she took off her simple, black bra. He swallowed thickly as the delicate material fell from her grasp. His fingertips ran over the bandage on her arm from the falling beam, to the bruises on her breast bone, gentle and tender touches that made her want to cry now when thinking about it. He’d kissed her, led her to the bed, and after toeing off his boots and pulling off his socks he joined her. Soft touches escaladed into sensual: gentle kisses deepened and all too soon they were both naked, memorizing the contours of each other’s bodies until it was just too much. She cradled him between her thighs and for the first time in three years she was able to feel what it was like to be with a man she cared deeply about. She hated to sound clichéd but it had been the best night of her life, and the start of something deep between the two of them. For a year they made it work, him visiting her when he had a break between cases and her finding him when he couldn’t get away.

Then the dreaded phone call had come…

“Max?”

“Hey,” she said, smiling instantly. “What’s up, Sam?”

“Max…” His voice was heavy, laced with sorrow, and her features fell. “Dean…”

Which brought her back to now. Sitting in the grass, empty eyes staring at the cross marker, wondering what she could possibly do now without him around to guide her. She missed him terribly, his deep voice that had suddenly developed a sexy twang that deepened when they were in bed. His sarcasm that always amused her, and annoyed her to no end. His eyes, his lips, his whispered words and gentle touches: it was all gone now. She was angry that he hadn’t told her, that he allowed himself to make a deal and be taken. She had wondered, why he’d been so desperate the last time they were together a month ago. Their lovemaking had been fueled by an unexplainable emotion in his eyes and now she knew why he’d been so reluctant to go. Why he’d whispered he loved her for the first time with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

She wasn’t sure how long she remained sitting there, but when she broke out of her reverie it was dark and the crickets and owls were singing their night song. She stood, brushing herself off before pressing her hand to her lips, then to his marker.

“I love you,” she whispered, before she turned around, and walked away. She got on her bike, and sat for a moment. Last week, she lost everything. Sam had just called her now, his voice laced with pain and alcohol. She took out her phone, and dialed his number. After a moment, he answered. “’lo?”

“Sam.”

“Heeeey, Max.”

“You’re drunk,” she said with a frown.

“A little.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m… Sh! Ruby, I’m on the phone! I’m in Des Moines.”

“Ok. Stay there, I’m on my way.”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you, is all,” said Max.

“Fine.”

Max started her bike, happy for once with her gift of Shark DNA, and made it to Des Moines in record time. She called Sam again and frowned when not getting an answer the first then second time. By a chance of pure luck, she drove by a motel that had a familiar looking Impala parked outside it. She parked her baby right beside it and followed a pair of muddy boot tracks to room three. It was like some larger power wanted her to find him. She knocked on the door, and when he didn’t answer she picked the lock to find Sam, laid out in bed, beer in hand with another girl holding a bloody wrist to his mouth.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

Both jumped, Ruby taking her wrist away while Sam straightened. Max’s eyes clashed with the black ones of Ruby and Max pounced like a cat onto the girl. Demon, not girl, and she was SO kicking her ass because she needed an outlet to her pain. Dean always hated her, so she felt like she was doing this for him. They landed hard on the carpeted ground, Ruby’s head cracking against an empty chest of drawers. Max didn’t pull her punches as she blurred them forward. She felt hands on her shoulders, trying to pull her off, but Sam was weak and all it took was a large shove to have him flipping end over end to the other side of the bed.

“Dean always said you were bad news,” said Max, hand on Ruby’s throat. Ruby coughed then brought a knee up to get Max in the gut. Max grunted as she was kicked off of Ruby but was up quickly. Ruby was a lower demon, a leech, and didn’t have the cool powers of the more important demons. So Max had no problem fighting her whatsoever. Her gaze flickered over to the demon knife and luckily Ruby had been distracted when Sam called her name. So Max played it cool, calm, all while a plan formed in her head. “What is it you two think you’re doing?”

“She’s making me stronger,” said Sam, slurring his words. “She saved me. Is saving me. We’re gunna get Dean back.”

“Is that what she told you?” asked Max, pointing a thumb in Ruby’s direction.

“I’m just gunna go,” said Ruby, trying to get by, but Max pushed her down onto the bed.

“I don’t think so,” said Max, moving to stand near the door, near the nightstand that had the knife. She moved to help Sam up and sat him on the bed, then sneakily pocketed the knife up her coat sleeve. “What are you thinking, Sam? What would Dean say to finding you sucking the blood from demon bitch?”

“It makes me strong!”

“Yeah, you’re the epitome of strong,” said Max sharply. “LOOK at yourself!”

So close, she was pacing now, acting angry while the blade weighed heavily in her sleeve. She paused in front of Ruby, and then looked down at her. She wanted to know what she wanted to accomplish. She wanted to question her but with Sam here, he’d make it difficult. Whatever it was, it was bad, Max knew it, so she made the decision to bring Sam with her.

“Pack your shit, Sam, you’re coming with me.”

“No, he’s not,” said Ruby, standing, facing off to her, and that is when Max made her move. Lightning quick, the blade went into her hand, and into the heart of Ruby. Sam screamed, pushing Max out of the way to cradle Ruby, but it was already too late. “Sam…”

“Ruby, Ruby! No… No, no, NO!”

Then she was gone, and Sam had turned on her and that was when he got the largest ass kicking of his life. Dean would’ve been proud. Sam was her responsibility. A black eye, cut lip, dislocated shoulder, sprained knee and four aspirin later, when he was sober, he followed her to Idaho.

2 months later…

Sam went through some nasty withdraws from the lack of demon-mojo, but after his mind was clear he had cried in shame for what he’d done. Sam and her were rebuilding their lives without Dean, and were managing. Barely, but they were. Sam was currently learning more about what his brother had been and what he went through with the help of Gem. Max smiled now, remembering the scene of them holding hands. The bond between them was growing, and Sam cared deeply for Skylar, Gem’s daughter.

White was popping his serpent head out again, Logan was letting her know he was trying to run for Mayor of Seattle and Clemente was his opponent. Max, Logan, and other bigwigs were doing their best to fight the Familiar influence. Max feared for Clemente’s life, as well as tampering with the numbers on Election Day. That wasn’t for another three months, and they were doing their best to find dirt on White that would bring his number of votes down.

Sighing, Max rubbed the back of her neck while walking to her permanent dwelling. The pro side of living in the woods was the ability to make houses easily. Trees were cut, and they were right by a river so the extra smart X-series made a water system. They relied on wood to keep warm and had generators for necessary electronics. It was a small, tight-knit colony that the Governor of Idaho knew about, and she helped keep their colony a secret.

Max smiled now, a true smile that hadn’t graced her face in a long time, as she opened the door to her home. She tensed when feeling another presence in the room and whipped around to punch whoever thought to sneak up on her in the face.

“OW! Son of a- MAX!” She froze, she couldn’t breathe or think. Her hands fell limply to her sides as Dean stood before her in the dark, holding his face. “Some welcome!”

“D-Dean?”

“Hey, Princess.” Another punch, this time to his gut, and she took out his legs so that he was flat on his back before straddling him. She put a hand to his throat, and it was warm and she felt a racing pulse below her fingertips. “Whoa, easy Tiger!”

“Who are you?”

“It’s me!”

“How?” she asked, shaking.

“I don’t know,” he answered softly. She collapsed on top of him and began sobbing; it all came back to her, her pain and loss. His supportive arms were around her in an instant and he sat up, cradling her in his arms as if she was a scared little child instead of the woman he loved. “Max, please stop crying, you know how I get around women who cry.”

He was trying to make a joke, and her strangled laughter made him feel a little better. Slowly she pulled back to look him in the face, she then bit her bottom lip. She knew all about possessions, for all she knew some demon had taken his body, so she stood and went to her drawers. She pulled out a vial of holy water and shook it at him as he stood.

“That’s my girl,” he said with a smile as he took the vial and took a swallow. He then hissed in a breath as she sliced him with a silver knife (which had been in the same drawer) when trying to hand her back the vial. “CHRIST that hurt!”

“Oh God.” She launched herself at him, her arms so tight that his back popped, but he didn’t mind. “It’s really you.”

“Yeah,” he said, struggling for breath. “It is.”

“How?” she asked again.

“I dunno, but we’ll find out.”

“Sam!” Max pulled back. “Did you tell him yet?”

“No, I couldn’t find him so-”

“He’s here,” said Max, and she explained to him what happened.

“You killed her?”

“Yeah.” Max shrugged. “It was no big.”

“Max, Max, Max…” Dean grinned before again pulling her into his arms. His eyes closing as the familiar warmth spread into his cold, haunted bones. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things…” He groaned as her hands went up his chest. “But first…” She whapped him a good one upside the head. “YOU ASS!”

“Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head. “What the hell was that for?”

“THAT was for not telling me about the deal.” She then hit him again, hard in the gut, and his eyes flashed with something akin to anger and annoyance. “THAT was for not telling me about Lilith.” She then brought up her fist and he let her give him a hook to the jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall. “And that…” Her voice was shaking, filled with emotion. “Was for leaving me.”

“Max…” He looked down. “I’m sorry.”

She went up to him and again hugged him. He was tense, waiting for another hit, but instead she guided him to the bed. Her battery clock read two in the morning and a yawn came out. All this work as of late made her unable to sleep, and now it was hitting her hard. Dean chuckled, helping her to the bed before he sat on the edge of it himself.

“Stay,” she whispered, making it sound like an order. “Sam and Gem are asleep now anyway so…”

“Wait, hold on, Sam and GEM?”

“Hmm, yeah,” said Max as Dean pulled off his shoes.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Together they settled, embracing each other in the darkened bedroom, eyes falling shut but wanting to stay open to enjoy the moment. “After I killed Ruby, he was pretty messed up… I, I’ll let him tell you what happened.” His arms tightened, then he nodded. “He sorta clung to Gem cause I think she is everything Ruby wasn’t. Smart, pretty, strong…GOOD.”

“He’s in for the shock of his life, tomorrow,” said Dean. “I can’t wait to see him.”

“I’ve missed you, so much,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he said, and she felt his fingertips at her temple, brushing away the hair there. “My mind was always on you.”

“Can you…tell me?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tight smile. “Someday.”

Max nodded, and then snuggled in tighter against him. She didn’t want to push him away by badgering him. She felt him relax, which made her relax. After a while, she fell asleep, and he couldn’t stop himself from following her, but not before whispering his love for her in the privacy of the dark room as well as his silent vow to make her Max Winchester by the end of the year. Going to hell put things in perspective for him, and his love for her would never fade. She knew what was out there, hell she killed Ruby: if ever there was a perfect woman out there for him, it was Max. And he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

The couple rested in peace all while a stoic figure stood outside the window, his icy blue eyes staring at the couple. As lightning flashed across the sky, the black outline of wings shadowed inside the small room.

“Soon, Dean Winchester, your purpose will be made clear.”

END.

Holy Hannah Montana that was longer than I thought it would be. Hope you all liked it! :0)

No PLace Like Home (FR-18)

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 16:29:27 GMT

Title: No PLace Like Home
Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Buffy comes home after a late night dusting to her husband: Dean
Fandom: BTVS/SPN
Characters: Dean, Buffy, OCboy, OCgirl, OCvamp
Genre: Romance/Action
Words: 1516
Team: Hunter
Challenge: #3, crossover

Dis: I don't own SPN or BTVS

She looked up from the hole she’d fallen into and sighed. Great. Another night of a Slayer, spent digging herself out of a grave that someone happened to leave out open in the middle of the cemetery. Bending into a squat, she jumped and with the help of both slayer grace and agility she easily landed on her two feet, only to get hit in the face by her original assailant.

Whipping out a stake, Buffy Summers glared menacingly at the vampire with distorted features. It wore rags, letting her know it was a drifter, and probably no one to worry about. It stunk, that much she knew, and the rags barely covered its malnourished body. The vampire was male, with long, snarly hair that was probably infested with lice and other icky things. The vampire snarled, desperate to get blood in its system, and charged her. She sidestepped, brought out her foot, and tripped it up so that it landed into the same hole she’d just gotten out of.

She stood with a bored expression on her face, twirling her stake until the vampire leapt out of the grave. Twisting to where it landed, to her right, she embedded her stake into its chest and it disintegrated to ash.

“They just keep getting grosser,” she muttered to herself as she tucked her stake into the back of her jeans. She brushed some ash off of her cream top then ran her slim fingers through the long, silky ponytail as if to fix the damage. She started walking back toward the sidewalk she’d originally been walking on and continued on her original walk back to her house. After the fall of Sunnydale, they rebuilt the council in Cleveland and she worked and slaved for over ten years to make it into what it was today. Not, at age thirty-two, she was still alive and kicking, but less active in the role of actually…kicking.

She still slayed here and there as well as kept her toes dipped in the affairs of the council, but she had wanted family: and got it. However, her calling still made her want to go out once in a while to hunt down the bad and fugly, and the apocalypse that was supposed to happen last week had been stopped by her when she beheaded the octopus-man who wanted to bring forth the soul of his mate inside a different slayer named Olivia. The poor girl nearly had a heart attack when the other slayers played a prank of ordering calamari the other night at dinner.

She walked up the small walk that lead to her house and softly stepped onto the wooden porch. The light was left on for her and she smiled as she unlocked her door with her key. She locked it again then flipped off the light. Two crystals glowed when she entered the home but quickly faded, a mystical security alarm was handy: especially when her and her husband were one of the most wanted hunters in the entire world. Of course, her brother-in-law and his wife were the second most wanted: Buffy had never thought that the day would come when Faith wanted to settle down. Well it had come and Faith and her husband were expecting their first child next fall.

Buffy wordlessly checked the security, though she knew she didn’t have to thanks to her husband being adamant about it. She snuck up the stairs and first opened a door with the name ‘Mary’ stenciled on it. A blonde little girl lay in her crib with her thumb in her mouth. A small, brown teddy bear was her pillow and Buffy smiled down at her softly before trailing her fingers in her hair, then down her small body before picking up the discarded blanket and re-placing it upon her. Buffy silently exited the room, and closed the door with a click.

The second room she happened upon had the name ‘Alex’ stenciled on it. She opened it to see her boy, age three, tucked in his bed with his toy cars surrounding him. A large, stuffed dinosaur lay on the floor and Buffy stepped around it before picking up the cars, then tucking in her son. He had the same features as Mary, but his hair was darker, much like her natural shade of dark blonde. After bending to place a kiss on his forehead she exited that room silently before moving to the master bedroom. She opened it and smiled when seeing her husband, sprawled out on their bed with the remote in his hand, out cold.

Conan O’Brien was commenting on a celebrity’s pregnancy and Buffy rolled her eyes before pulling off her soft top. She shimmied out of her jeans after pulling off her boots then took off her bra. She shivered from the cold as she dug in her drawer for a large t-shirt of Dean’s to wear. Going to the adjoining bathroom she combed out her hair, brushed her teeth, then washed her face free of make-up.

She flipped off the light, and then went to the bed. She stole the remote, flipped off the television, and finally climbed into bed. Dean stirred as she settled upon her pillow and she smiled as a large arm came around her waist. She turned in his embrace when he prompted her to and her amused eyes met his sleepy. Dean never was one who could focus after awakening, unless it was a life and death situation.

“How was the baby shower?”

“Great. Went off without a hitch,” she said, too perky, and he caught onto it.

“What happened?”

“Vamp caught me on my way home,” she said, making him come fully awake and check her for injury by pulling back the sheets. “I’m fine. No harm.”

“Still,” he said, hand going to her naked knee then traveling up to her thigh. “I worry about you.”

“I know,” she said, leaning forward to press her lips to his. He reciprocated the kiss, his fingers spanning so that he could cup the back of her leg then bring it over his hip. “Hmm… Frisky, are we?”

“Always am,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck now, the stubble of his cheeks and jaw rough against her creamy skin.

“Alex and Mary get to bed all right?”

“Christ,” said Dean with a sigh. “Alex had another damned frog in the toilet. Almost had a heart attack when I had to take a-”

“I get it,” said Buffy, not wanting to know which number it was. She easily moved to straddle his hips and he grinned up at her, hands traveling under her shirt to cup her bare breasts. Her eyes closed, then opened to stare at him with a hooded gaze as his thumbs moved over her nipples. She brought her hands to the hem of the borrowed shirt and pulled it off to reveal her black, lace boy short panties. Dean bit his bottom lip while his hands traveled down her still trim body, even after two kids. He stilled at her hips and she leaned down to kiss him again. He sat up after a moment and she helped him pull off his sleeping shirt. His arms wrapped around her body then carefully turned them so that her back was against the soft sheets. He quickly got rid of the pajama pants he wore while she hooked her fingers in her panties. She lay naked on the bed and he quickly moved over her, loving her body with his lips and hands.

Cupping her breasts, softly kneading them, lips and tongue playing with her perked nipple. Her hands moved down his chest, over the defined muscles of his pecs. She smirked as her thumbs moved over his flat nipples and almost purred as he nuzzled her neck. She opened her legs when one of his hands traveled there and her desire filled eyes met his as he brought her closer and closer to her orgasm. Her breathing quickened and when she arched into his hand he pulled away. She caged him with her legs, her knees pressed against his ribs as he moved over her. He kissed her lovingly before entering her and finally, all was all right because they were together and nothing else mattered.

“I love you,” she whispered, sometime later, her body gleaming against the moonbeams entering from their window.

“Love you, too, Darlin.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So I was talking to Sam.”

“Mhm…”

“Apparently, if it’s a boy, they’ll name him Jonathan, since we took Mary for a girl.”

“If it’s a girl?” asked Buffy sleepily.

“Sam wanted something simple like Ashley, but Faith wants something unique like… I dunno, Velma.”

“Velma?” she asked with a laugh.

“Well not that name in particular but something close.”

“Could always name her Lilith.”

“Now that,” said Dean as he rolled over on top of his wife again. “Is just mean. Funny, but mean.”

“Hmm…Gunna punish me?”

“Oh yeah,” said Dean, his eyes gleaming. “You bet I am.”

END.

Chapter 14 (Dragon) PG-15

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 21:25:42 GMT

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.”

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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.”

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“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.

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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…

Family (PG-13)

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 05:11:02 GMT

Title: Family
Author: PyroDeScorpio2
Characters/Pairing(s): Bobby, Faith, Sam, Dean (Faith/Sam)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: lang
Summary: Bobby speaks to his daughter for the first time in 10yrs and at her refusal to reciprocate his attempts, he leaves: only to have her return to the place she grew up before being shipped off to Boston.
Word Count: 2040
Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN
A/N: My first post to this challenge board! :0)

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Bobby sighed as he slid into the orange plastic chair, nerves running from the tips of his fingers down to his toes. He drug a hand through his thinning hair, then rubbed his trimmed beard as the heavy door that resided on the other side of the glass opened with a buzz.

For the first time in ten years, his daughter came to sight. This wasn’t the reunion he had in mind, but after researching police files for a case linked to Sunnydale, CA, he’d had the shock of his life. The picture of his daughter, wanted, for the murder of a deputy mayor had been a slap to the face and the news of her capture had him wanting to come and see her immediately.

She didn’t look a thing like the skinny little girl in the picture. She didn’t have the defeated look on her face like most of the girls in the other windows, but when she locked onto his gaze, the familiar look of defiance came onto her face. The same he remembered when she was just a little girl.

She slowly slid onto the chair and reluctantly picked up the off green phone, he quickly grabbed his own phone receiver and held it to his ear. They sat like that for a moment, just staring at each other and listening to the other breathe until a smirk came onto her face as well as a look of nonchalance.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Faith.”

“Long time no see.” She said that with a hint of accusation. “How long has it been? Ten years?”

“About.”

“So, saw that I was locked up and had to come see me, huh?”

“Yes.”

She frowned, “Why?”

“Because you’re my daughter.”

She snorted, running a hand through her long brown hair before glaring at him through the glass. She then pointed a finger at him while speaking:

“You have no right to come here.”

“Faith.”

“Look. You left. I get it, didn’t want to get saddled with the fatherly duties. It’s too late to even try to help me, so to clear your conscience: I’m fine. Good, even.”

“Just listen-”

“We’re done. Have good life, Bobby. The next time you see me, will be when I die to join you in hell.” Faith slammed the phone down, feeling bad for a moment because of the flash of hurt in his eyes, but shaking it off because he LEFT her and she blamed HIM because he left his daughter with the insane and abusive sister of the insane and dead mother. Her life had been more than a little fucked up even before being called into the line of duty. “Guard!”

Faith stood, got shackled, then walked with the guard back to her cell…

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Faith stifled a yawn as she was shaken awake. She opened her sleepy brown eyes to meet the smiling blues of Sam Winchester. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out, but from the smell of dew on the grass and the faint orange glow to the east: it was long enough.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she said, sitting up fully. She saw Dean walking inside a house that had the front porch light on as well as another that illuminated one window. Faith frowned, an odd sense of familiarity hitting her. “Where are we?”

“A friend of ours. It’s on the way to the next hunt, figured we’d get his opinion on our theories of it being a succubus. Bobby’s good at what he does.”

“Bobby…” Faith quickly exited the back of the Impala with a sense of panic. “Oh fuck. Sam! We have to leave. Now.”

“What?” Confusion was evident on his face. “Why?”

“I can’t be here,” said Faith, slightly hyperventilating while running both hands through her hair, gripping the ends with almost white knuckles and Sam put a hand to her shoulder and she easily stepped into his awaiting arms. She breathed in deep, trying to calm down, but it was hard. The house had looked so familiar because this had been her home. Long ago, when everything had started to fall apart in her life, and her father was in there. Her father, who was a hunter, and probably now had a hell of a reason to leave his young daughter. Fuck. “He’s my dad, Sam.”

Faith pulled away, adverting her gaze to a large tree. She walked toward it, unknowingly following a path she took as a young child by leaning against it, the back of her head touching the rough bark. She closed her eyes, listened to the crickets as well as the footfalls of Sam whom stopped just in front of her. She opened her eyes to see his concern, hands in his pockets to keep from touching her because he knew she wanted some space. She sighed deeply before sinking to the ground, the butt of her jeans becoming damp from the grass as she sat. She only had on a t-shirt and shivered slightly from the South Dakota chill and smiled when Sam offered her his coat. She took it, wrapped it around her before patting the spot beside her. He sat next to her and she leaned against him because she was trying out the whole ‘committed relationship’ thing and was doing her best to ‘share’ and all that other crap.

“He left. When I was five. Visited me in jail once.”

“Bobby? Really? I didn’t even knew he had…” He trailed off, because he thought it would hurt her. “Sorry.”

“S’ok. God! To think I was finally getting my shit together.”

“Maybe… maybe you are.”

“Huh?” she asked, turning her head up to look at him. He put a hand on her knee as he spoke.

“Maybe now is the best time to become reacquainted. Faith, I’m not sure if I’m the one that should tell you this but… Bobby’s wife had been possessed.”

“Oh,” said Faith softly. “And he had to…”

“He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t tell us the whole story, maybe…maybe he had to do what he did to…”

“She was different,” said Faith with a sad sigh. “She came after me with a knife once, I went screaming to Dad about it and he… He told me to stay outside…that was the night…” Faith shivered. “I get it now.”

“Maybe he thought it would be best to keep you safe. Away from…”

“I’m a Slayer, pretty damn funny, huh?”

He didn’t answer, just sat with her in the silence until it was broken by Dean as he let the screen door slam on his way out of the house. He called for them and Sam answered. They listened as Dean’s footfalls came closer from the sound of scuttling gravel to that of feet padding on soft grass.

“What’s the hold up?” asked Dean. “Bobby wants to talk before I get some sleep.”

“It’s private, Dean.”

“Oh.” Dean smirked. “Am I interrupting a moment?”

“Bobby’s my dad.” Faith looked up, and Dean was stunned into silence. “Didn’t put the pieces together that your Bobby was my Bobby till now.”

“Damn,” said Dean, crouching till his knees popped. “You guys not on good terms?”

“Not really.”

“Sorry,” said Dean with a wince. “He never…”

“Mentioned me. I know.”

“Shit!” Dean sighed. “We stayin’ or goin’?”

“We…” Faith looked around the tree to see a man standing by the door, peering out toward them. She wasn’t sure if he knew it was her or not…but it would look pretty damn suspicious of they left now. “We can stay just… give us a sec?”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll uh… Go up and get settled while you two talk…”

Faith nodded and she stood with Sam to walk to the house. She appreciated the comforting rub on her shoulder from Dean and the graze of fingers over her knuckles from Sam as they walked past a flabbergasted Bobby who stared at her like he was seeing a ghost.

“Hey, Dad.”

“F-Faith?”

“Yeah.”

“You… You’re…”

“Here. I know. Shocker for me too.”

“But… aren’t you supposed to be in jail?”

“Funny story…”

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“So you’re…”

“A Slayer. And you’re…”

“A hunter.”

“Mom.” Faith looked down at the empty cup that had been full of coffee to stay awake for the long awaited talk. “Possessed?”

Bobby’s eyes looked pained as he too looked down to his empty cup. They sat in the silence, letting the tales of demons and vampires sink in. They felt stupid and upset over missing time over this. Once again, the side of evil took something away from them. Faith still didn’t divulge the full story on why she had been in jail and Bobby refused to speak of that night. But at least they weren’t fighting.

“I think I’m going to turn in.”

“Ok.” Bobby stood with her. She gathered the jacket she had pulled off once entering the kitchen and Bobby sighed when seeing her drape it over her arm. “So…Sam, huh?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“It serious?”

“Maybe,” said Faith, lifting her chin a little. “Don’t start.”

“What? No, I mean, you could do worse. He only tried ending the world due to being under the influence of evil.”

“People make mistakes.” Faith refused to tell him she’d almost done the same thing. They weren’t THAT close yet. “Besides, I could have chosen Dean.”

They shared a small laugh, and then stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs with one of her feet perched on a step, her hand on the banister. Bobby finally sighed before putting a hand over hers. It was warm, callused, and slightly comforting.

“I love you, Faith.”

“Oh. Um…thanks. I…”

“You don’t have to.” Bobby nodded before pulling away. “He’s in your old room. Funny, how that was always the room he’d choose when staying the night here. Remember where it is?”

“I think so.”

“Last room on the left.” Faith nodded. “Get some sleep.”

Faith went up the stairs. She bit her bottom lip when passing her parent’s old room, the one that had snores emitting from the door to let her know Dean was there. She rested a hand against the bathroom door, the same bathroom she’d hidden in when her mother demanded she come out. The scarred wood had been painted over, but was still slightly chipped.

Her brown, flat boots traveled over the wooden floor and stopped outside her old room. Her hand clasped the small, iron knob and twisted to push the door open. The room was dark, the windows covered with pull down shades and the mattress on the floor housed a slumbering Sam. Faith smiled as she closed the door with a small click. Her old chest of drawers was still there and the walls were still the soft yellow. She put the jacket on a small chair then pulled off her boots. After shimmying out of her jeans and taking off her bra under her shirt, she skipped brushing her teeth to slide onto the double mattress. A strong arm reflexively wrapped around her and soon her back was spooned against his front. His voice was muffled against the back of her neck.

“Go ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“We had the long talk. He confirmed what you said. We’re not even close to being father and daughter but…” She shrugged and he placed a kiss on her shoulder before closing his eyes. “Maybe. Sometime. I can call him family like…”

When she stopped, he popped open one eye. “Like?”

“Like I do you,” she admitting, making his arms tighten. “I’m turning into a softie.”

“Hmm…”

“Sam?”

“Yeah?” he asked, already half-asleep.

Faith opened her mouth to say more, tell him how much he really meant to her, but closed it at the last second, biting her tongue.

“Never mind. Night.”

“Night.”

After a moment, Faith easily fell asleep, the cocoon of Sam as well as the quilt aiding her.

Later, Bobby would sneak in the room, frown at a snoozing Sam, and then gaze upon his daughter: a small smile forming at the side of his mouth. His daughter was home, and it was up to him (and hopefully a willing Sam and Dean) to make sure he’d never lose her again.

END.

PICK A PERSON, ANY PERSON...ONCE

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 19:28:16 GMT

This is called the "alternative life meme" and basically you have to fill out the questions with fictional characters that come to your mind. Pick a different person for each answer. No repetitions!

1. The guy you would take to meet your parents:
Sam Winchester, he's just so sweet and can charm anyone! And sexy too, did i mention sexy? Yeah, Sam...mmm...

2. The one girl you would do:
Wow... Really? Hm... I guess Izzie from Grey's Anatomy, i dunno why i just kinda picked someone. I'd say Faith but she's later, LOL.

3. The guy you'd have sex with in your parents' bed:
Uck.
What kinda question is this?!
Alec from DA, he's just kinky like that. LOL

4. The girl you'd take to the mall: Alice from Twilight!! She'd probably buy me stuff...LOL

5. Your male BFF: Lucas from OTH, he's so sweet!!! U just wanna hug him to death...

6. Your female BFF: Buffy SUmmers, she'll do anything for her friends (including die) and she needs better friends who wouldn't turn their backs on her!

7. Your gay BFF: I'll go with Angela from Bones (she's like BI but still she's with a girl now)... she isn't like GAY but i really can't think of anyone else who i actually like... Willow and Tara? nah... Callie or Hahn... no... so Angela! lol.

8. The guy who'd take you to prom: Clark from Smallville, just cause he's so sweet and gentle and yeah, need those arms around me to dance with... SO lucky Lois!!!

9. Your big brother: George from Grey's Anatomy... he's just halarious and really does care for his friends and family very much so! plus when he was a doctor he could help me with all my bills...LOL

10. The guy you'd marry: I took all the good answers already! Ronon from Stargate: Atlantis... he may be rough on the outside but i can see him as a great guy to have for the long haul.

11. The two guys you'd have a threesome with: Dean from SPN and King from Blade: Trinity.... need I say anymore???

12. The girl and guy you'd have a threesome with: Faith from BTVS and Mark Sloan from Grey's Anatomy just cause they seem like the 2ppl that would WANT to have a 3some, LOL.

13. The guy or girl you'd go clubbing with: Meredith Grey.... though she is whiny, just get some tequila in her and she's a party animal! lol

14. The guy person you'd have angry hot sex with: Damn, I can't say Sam! Or Dean! Or King! Well then Spike! Hell to to the yea there can be biting as well as hot oil of some kind (LOL Buffy)

LITTLE QUIZ

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 19:04:51 GMT

LOL

Smallville Season 8

Mon, 19 May 2008 16:15:13 GMT

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.

Dirty Little Secret

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 19:21:20 GMT

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

Telephone BLues

Thu, 17 Jan 2008 20:38:45 GMT

Title: Telephone Blues
Author: PyroDeScorpio2
Summary: Dean teases Ginny about her inability to use the phone
Rating: PG-13 (strong)
Genre: Romance/Humor
Crossover: HP/SPN
Challenge: Week 1
DIS: I don't own SPN or HP

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

“This is useless!” she snapped as she threw the cellphone down.

“What’s got you in a pissy mood?” asked Dean Winchester as he took in the sight of his ‘special friend’ Ginny Weasley: who was a fiery red-head that’d just gotten out of a bad marriage to someone named Harry Potter.

“I don’t know how to use these things,” she said with a pout.

“I thought you ‘wizards’ were supposed to be smart?” joked Dean as he stood from the bed he’d been sitting on to take off his boots.

“Stuff it, Winchester. I didn’t grow up using these things.” She turned her back to him and Dean wasn’t going to back down from the challenge that was Ginny. “So sod off.”

“Now Ginny…” He felt her shiver when he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Mind those curse words of yours. Imagine what your mother would say.”

“Imagine what she’d curse off if she knew what you did to me every night.”

He chuckled, hands now traveling up her flat stomach that’d been hidden under her ‘muggle’ clothes of a t-shirt and jeans. She huffed an aggravated sigh before turning in his arms and landing a frustrated kiss on his lips. He smiled before bending down to pick up the phone she had just abused.

“Who were you trying to call?”

“The bloody pizza delivery boy!”

“Ok… Let’s go over this again…”

“I don’t WANT to go over this again.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You do it?”

“Ginny Weasley is backing down from a challenge? Hell just froze over. The moon went out of orbit or something…”

“Dean!”

Dean pulled her against him and he walked backward until sitting on the bed. She sat stiffly on his lap as he pulled out the phone and handed it to her. It was like trying to temp a child into eating peas. She didn’t want it, no matter how appealing he tried to make it sound.

“So when I’m lying bleeding on the ground and need medical attention, and you don’t have your wand, I’m so going to die.”

“That ridiculous deal you made is already ensuring your death,” she snapped and he frowned. Sore subject. So he changed it by opening his phone and looking at the numbers.

“When you dial somewhere other than Kansas you need to dial an area code.”

“I know that!”

“Do you know the area code to the pizza place?”

She didn’t answer.

“And thus Dean Winchester has solved yet another mystery of the technological retardedness of Ginny Weasley.”

“The next time something is coming after you,” said Ginny with a hint of anger in her voice. “I’m going to let it bite your arse off.”

“But you like my ‘arse’,” he said.

“I can live without it,” she mumbled and he just chuckled before putting the phone down beside him on the bed so that he could again wrap her in his arms. She easily leaned into him, her head resting against his broad shoulder and he awarded her surrender with a kiss to the lips, then chin: and eventually he was exploring the soft skin of her neck all while being encourage with her breathy murmurs of approval. Sure the girl didn’t know how to work or phone or even a damn toaster… But when she did THAT thing with her tongue… Dean was able to forget all the little things and focus on the big picture.

END

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 05:25:00 GMT

does anyone even write on this thing anymore?!?! ;0)

A LETTER I SENT TO THE CW

Sat, 30 Jun 2007 03:04:42 GMT

This is a letter I sent to the CW with my concerns on that whack-o Dawn whats her face messin with my show!

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

That Final Step

Mon, 04 Jun 2007 15:32:57 GMT

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*~*~*~*~*~

That Final Step

Mon, 04 Jun 2007 15:29:46 GMT

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!

Free (Roadhouse)

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 18:34:11 GMT

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

Mistaken Identity

Thu, 31 May 2007 03:31:50 GMT

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

What a Wanker

Thu, 24 May 2007 01:47:24 GMT

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.”

“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

Of Operas, Éclairs, and Booze

Thu, 17 May 2007 04:46:57 GMT

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.

“The ladies still fall at your feet, even in America,” he said to himself as he sat back: ignoring his father who was on some sort of call.

~*~*~*~*~*

He watched her as the Opera went on. She seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was so when she moved from her seat he perked up. It seemed like she was leaving so he moved from his seat.

“Rupert! Where on earth are you going?”

“Takin’ a piss, Mum,” he said loud enough to make those around them whisper.

His mother, too embarrassed, just waved him off. Giles hurried up the alley and down the stairs in time to see the girl leave the Opera House. He followed out in a hurry and caught up to her just as she was getting into her car.

“Hey!”

She looked up, her eyes widening when seeing who it was.

“You!”

He smiled while leaning on the open door of her car.

“Want to have some REAL fun?”

She rolled her eyes at him while trying to tug the door away.

“Go away!”

“No.”

“You arrogant little…” She shoved the door at him: making him off balance and he almost fell backwards. She did have the door back and she was gathering her skirts. “Good night!”

“I was watching you. And you looked as bored as I was. C’mon. Let’s have us some fun… It’ll piss our parents off and we’ll have the gratification of them knowing they can’t control us. C’mon luv, live a little.”

She was biting her lower lip in a way that made Ripper want to shove her into the car and have his way with her. However, he kept it in his trousers when she nodded her head.

“Fine.” She crossed her arms. “What will we be doing?”

He smiled, and then offered his hand.

“Let’s take my parents car?”

She hesitated, and then took it.

~*~*~*~*~*

“Oh, this feels so good,” she moaned as she closed her eyes in bliss.

“It only gets better,” he promised, running his hand over her bare arm.

She smiled as she sank her feet into the pond a little further. Her mother would have a fit, but she didn’t care. She was having éclairs while smoking pot and drinking the best-damned scotch in the world. She was on cloud nine and she was rebelling against everything her family stood for, and she loved it.

“Screw high society! I’m going to drink, eat what I want, and fry my brain with this wonderful drug!”

“Amen,” said Ripper as he took a long drag of his smoke. “And now you can add one more thing to the list that will drive your parents insane.”

“Oh?” She asked while turning to him: almost falling over. “What’s that?”

“Making out with a Britt in the middle of Central Park for all the world to see!”

She smiled brightly, tossed the rest of the éclair to the ducks, and then fell into his lap.

“I love being bad,” she whispered.

“Welcome to the bloody club,” he said just before he kissed her…

“ELLEN ELIZABETH FITZGERALD!”

The two teens broke apart to see that both of their parents were standing about ten feet from them with shocked expressions on their faces.

“Mom!” Ellen smiled before sticking her tongue out. “You can stick with where the sun don’t shine!”

“Bloody ‘ell.” Rupert ‘Ripper’ Giles grinned while wrapping his arms around her. “I’m going to marry this girl.”

Both teenagers burst out into laughter as their mothers fainted: however the laughter stopped as Ellen emptied her éclairs on Ripper’s lap.

“Agh!” He winced as the wetness seemed into his trousers. “Bloody ‘ell!”

END

See Want Have

Wed, 16 May 2007 04:00:10 GMT

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!

Sun, 13 May 2007 01:51:11 GMT

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.”

“Weird is the name of our business, K.” Faith walked up the steps just in time to see Willow’s Wiccan group enter from the side doors. “Damn I’m in a good mood. Need to get me some of that pie.”
~_~_~_~_~_

END

maxie the vampire slayer

Tue, 08 May 2007 00:59:30 GMT

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.”

Then Dawn left a perplexed Max behind.

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.”

“Don’t call me Maxie!”

FIN

Mon, 07 May 2007 23:50:48 GMT

Title: Medical Phenomenon

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: The interns and surgeons can't help but to notice their newest patient. She fell out of a building and didn’t break a single bone…

Characters: Bailey, George, Izzie, Buffy, Jo, Mark

Genre: humor

Words: 1083

Challenge: #7, roadhouse, BTVS/SPN/Grey’s Anatomy

Dis: I don’t own BTVS, GA, or SPN. They belong to their respective creators.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Where the hell are all my interns?”

Bailey was on the warpath. Again. She was up all night with her baby boy trying to get him to sleep. She herself had worked a thirty-six hour shift but her child didn’t care about that. Now that the chief wasn’t mommy tracking her anymore she had to stay on top of her game. Coffee was a great help, as was her ability to make her interns as miserable as she was. They didn’t call her the Nazi for nothing.

Then, she had one in her sights. He was talking excitedly to a nurse. Ah, the one that gave him syphilis. His hands were moving in different directions but when he saw her, she swore she saw him gulp. He moved to turn away and she wasn’t having any of that. So she called out his name.

“O’Malley!”

The boy halted in his steps. He had been on his way to… Somewhere. She wanted to know why it was he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She stared him down, but he looked everywhere but at her. Just what was going on?

“Dr. Bailey, um, ma’am. What do you need?”

“My interns, that’s what. Where are the rest of them?”

“I don’t quite know,” said George, who’s eye started to twitch.

Oh, she saw that.

“You’re lying.”

“Me?” He was beginning to sweat. He was the weakest of the whole bunch; she’d get him to break. “No, ma’am.”

“Well, I did have a coronary artery bypass… Burke wanted Yang but I’m tired of giving him what he wants. So either you tell me where those blood sucking, ass kissing interns of mine are or else you’ll be emptying bedpans for a week!”

George looked conflicted. He had a loyal duty to his friends. But Christina was always getting the cool surgeries and—Oh God, he wanted this one. May Jesus forgive him.

“They’re in room 345.The girl that feel out of a building and didn’t break anything? They’re with her.”

“Great,” said Bailey as she started walking to the stairs.

“Um, the surgery?”

“Beat it, O’Malley!”

“Ok!” He turned on his heel and hurried down the hall, stopping when his name was called. “Yes?”

“Hurry up. You got ten minutes to scrub in.”

“Yes,” said George, pumping his fist in the air.

He couldn’t wait to rub it in Christina’s face later on.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Izzie Stevens leaned against the nurses’ station as she stared at the two blonde women in room 345. The girl in the hospital bed was pretty bubbly for a girl that dropped numerous stories and landed on a garbage truck. She had minor contusions on her head from the fall, and minor lacerations on her arms from the glass that had broken when she was tossed out of the window. Police had come for her statement and Izzie had overheard it—and boy did it all sound shady. Which was why she was watching her.

“Spying on the patient?” Izzie Stevens turned to see Mark a.k.a. McSteamy. He leaned against the station much like her and matched her pose. He then stared into the room and he smiled. “I can see why.”

“That’s just gross,” said Izzie. “And I’m looking at her because she didn’t break a single bone and barely has any scratches on her AFTER falling numerous stories from a building.”

His smile fell into a frown, as he looked the tiny girl over.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Mark pushed himself off of the station and Izzie watched as he walked into the room. Oh, she was SO going to get in on this!

“Oh, more Doctors,” said the girl as she turned the television volume down. “What now? More tests on my, oh I don’t know, calcium levels?”

“We’re just concerned is all,” said Mark as he skimmed over her charts. “This isn’t your first visit to the hospital, is it Ms. Summers? Dog bite back in ’99. Dislocated shoulder in 2000. Oh, you were shot in 2003. Bad luck seems to find you, doesn’t it?”

“Uh,” she said, fidgeting on her bed. “Yeah. Look, my cousin and I here--”

“Cousin?” Mark looked at the younger with the same color hair and same eyes. “Ah, I see Miss…”

“Harvelle. Jo Harvelle.”

“Well then,” said Mark as he took out his stethoscope. “You of all people would want us to make sure she was fine. Correct?”

“I suppose,” said Jo as she eyed the blonde girl. “Who’s she?”

“I’m Izzie, an intern.”

“So you’re like his bitch, huh,” asked Jo?

“No.” Izzie shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You kinda are,” said Mark, eyes twinkling with humor. “So, everything still looks good.”

“Yay me. Can I go yet?” God she hated hospitals. "I'm fine!"

“Doctor Hun recommended her staying overnight,” said Izzie as she took the chart Mark gave her.

“Well, Doctor’s orders.” Mark smiled and Izzie swore she saw Buffy blush slightly. Just what did girls see in this guy? “Besides, I know you don’t want to miss the exceptional breakfast served here at Seattle Grace.”

“Eugh,” said Buffy as she made a face.

“It’s not as bad as some places,” offered Izzie, who looked back at the station to see Christina, Meredith, and Alex getting yelled at by Bailey. When Bailey went into the room to see Mark and Izzie in there, she had to control the tone of her voice.

“I’m sure Miss Summers here would like some privacy. She doesn’t need any plastic surgery, Mark so now would be a good time to check YOUR patients.”

“Of course,” said Mark as he winked at Buffy. “You enjoy your stay.”

“Oh, I am,” said Buffy as she watched him go with a grin.

“Stevens, you’re on SCUD.”

“Aw, c’mon.”

Izzie sighed when seeing Bailey’s glare and she hurried out the door. Bailey then turned to Buffy with a kind smile.

“If my interns bother you again. Because I know some of them made their way in here more than once, then call a nurse.”

“I’m a medical phenomenon. It’s only natural they’d be curious.”

Bailey smiled then stepped to the door. Two men were standing there and if she were twenty years younger, she’d be giving them a second look. She just nodded her head at the tall brunette and shorter blond. When her gaze went to the nurses’ station, she groaned when seeing them whisper.

“I swear to all that is holy if I hear McSizzle or Mc-whatever else, I’m going to go hurt somebody.”

-0-0-0-0-0

END

When the Bodacious Babes Met the Radical Turtles

Mon, 07 May 2007 20:49:46 GMT

Title: When the Bodacious Babes Met the Radical Turtles

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Dawn and Kat are hunting some vampires, and are soon lured into the sewers only to come face to face with walking, talking turtles!

Challenge: #7, Roadhouse, TMNT/BTVS/SPN

Characters: Kat, Dawn, Raph, Donnie, Mikey, Leo, Splinter, Buffy

Dis: I don’t own TMNT, SPN, or BTVS; they belong to their creators.

Words: 2837

~-~-~-~-~

“God, did it really go down there,” groaned Dawn Summers as she eyed the manhole as if it were the devil itself.

“I think so,” said Katie Worth, a.k.a. Kat, wrinkling up her nose when getting a sniff.

“I hate vampires,” muttered Dawn as she leaned over the hole to look down.

“Well, it has the amulet we need, so,” Kat trailed off with a shrug. “Let’s do it.”

Kat jumped down into the sewers feet first. She landed in a crouch then yelped when seeing a rat the size of Texas. Dawn followed, slowly going down the ladder then landed with a splash as her leather boots came in contact with sewer water and whatever was IN the water.

“Eugh.” Dawn took out her flashlight. “This blows.”

“Amen.” Kat closed her eyes, feeling her surroundings, and then: “This way.”

“Cool.”

Dawn walked beside whom she considered her best friend. They had met when coming to Kat’s hometown about a year ago. Kat was a Slayer, like many other girls in the country, and she was destined to be a warrior of the Powers. She was a natural and surprisingly knew of ghosts and believed at the time that there were supernatural beings out there. When asked how she knew and why she had those thoughts, Kat had just shaken her head and smiled. Later, Dawn heard the story of Kat being locked in an Asylum with her ex-boyfriend Gavin and two hottie brothers named Dean and Sam.

Tonight was supposed to be a vacation for them. They had just saved the world, again, and Dawn and Kat took it upon themselves to not follow the others to Aspen and stayed in New York. They enjoyed the shopping, food, and not to mention clubs. Buffy still managed to check in whenever it was possible: mainly due to Giles making sure they weren’t spending too much money on shopping.

However, they had gotten word though the Slayer grapevine that something was up in NYC. They had called Buffy then talked to Giles for about an hour before he had finally found something. It was about the coming of a new age, basically a nasty demon. The cult needed the medallion and it was up to them to stop the vampire from achieving it’s goal: ergo the running around in sewers thing.

“Wait,” whispered Kat, peering through the steam to see in front of her. “I hear something--”

Both girls jumped as five vampires came through the steam. They’re eyes glittered in the dark: as did the medallion. Seriously, you’re a vampire cult ready to end the world and you need that little bauble. Why would you bring it with you when facing a Slayer and a highly certifiable Watcher in training?

Both girls whipped out their stakes and the battle was on. Though Dawn wasn’t as strong as the vampire she made it up with her quick thinking. She was able to interpret the vampire’s next move and could dodge it and get in an attack of her own. Kat, however, fought almost like Buffy. She wanted to stake the demons as soon as possible. However, they started running into problems. Kat managed to stake one then turned only to be hit in the face pretty hard with some steel knuckles another vampire had.

She went down to the ground disorientated and the vampire lifted her up, his fangs showing. She pushed the vampire away then kicked him in the head as hard as she could. The vampire landed on top of an unconscious Dawn: who had been attacked from behind. Dawn had blood coming from her temple and Kat still had three vampires to deal with.

She fought hard, managing to stake one more before she was tossed on the ground. She groaned as her hands and knees skinned on the grungy ground. She then turned so that she was facing the vampires then managed to snag Dawn’s stake from her limp hand.

“You’re really pissing me off,” said Kat, gritting her teeth against the pain as she rose.

“Poor little Slayer,” said the vampire as he showed his teeth. “We really don’t care. Mmm, you’ve worked up a sweat: you’re blood will be quite tasty.”

“Oh, gross,” came a voice from the shadows that has both Kat and the two vampires looking in that direction. “Did I just hear that right, Bro?”

“I think so,” said a softer voice that had a hint of disgust in its tone. “I’m not too keen on guys that attack two women…”

“Me neither,” said the more upbeat voice.

“Argh, show yourselves,” growled the vampire that had the necklace. “I grow tired of your--”

He was cut off, looking down at his chest where the wood stake penetrated. He was shocked and he looked up at a smirking Kat: who then watched as the vampire disintegrated into nothing. The other vampire then immediately attacked her. She gave a grunt of pain as a punch landed solidly on her jaw and she stumbled back. She looked up just in time to see two shadows move in front of her.

“Dude, what’s wrong with your face?” asked one figure.

“Looks like something out of one of your movies,” said another and Kat heard the sounds of battle.

“The heart,” she panted, getting her bearings back. “Stake it in the heart.”

She tossed her stake at the closest figure who caught it, then hesitated in the attack. That enabled the vampire to get the upper hand.

“Ow! He bit me!”

“Mikey!”

The sound of a wooden staff whirling in the air met her ears. She saw the staff penetrate the vampire’s chest. It roared as it dusted into nothing but Ash and then there was no sound other than the above traffic and the dripping water. Then a shuffling of feet and Kat fought off a smile as she heard sputtering coming from the guy that had been under the vampire when it dusted.

“Blah! Gross!”

The other guy chuckled.

“Sorry, Mikey.”

“No big.” Then she knew they were looking at her then at Dawn. “So, we can help you, but, um… A little problem.”

“Oh?”

“We don’t look… Normal,” said the other guy with the gentle voice. “You might be a little frightened.”

“I fight vampires.” Kat’s gaze was serious as she peered into the shadows.

“She has a point,” said the other guy as he stepped into the light. Ok, so not a guy. “I’m Michelangelo. But you can call me Mikey!”

“Uhh…”

“And I’m Donatello…”

Kat watched as the other turtle stepped forward. Her eyes were wide as she took them in. She’s seen demons before, but somehow these guys felt different. She didn’t get a sense of danger when around them and they both had kind eyes as they went from her to Dawn. Oh God, Dawn!

She bent down to her friend and gently shook her.

“Dawn?”

“She’s out cold,” said Donatello, who had a purple bandana on. “We can bring her back to the lair but…”

“But?”

“We have to blindfold you,” said Mikey, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “We don’t take in many strangers. And you can see why and, I’m sorry dudette. If you want we can call an ambulance.”

“No,” said Kat. “That’s fine. It’s fine. I understand. Just let me get something first.”

She went to the dust pile that had belonged to the medallion-wearing vampire. She saw the necklace looking object sitting innocently on top of the pile and she lifted it up to inspect it.

“Uh, what is it?” asked Mikey as he lifted the still unconscious Dawn.

“Well, for the vamps it was the key to ending the world.”

Both turtles looked astonished.

“Dude…”

“That’s… Interesting” said Donnie.

“Yeah, thanks by the way. Um, so, turtle demons?”

“We’re not demons,” said Donatello, a little defensive. “Just, walking, talking turtles.”

“Ok…” Kat pocketed the medallion. “I’m not so keen on being blindfolded but Dawn needs help. I’m Kat, by the way.”

“Kat,” said Mikey with a grin. “I like it, and hey, Don? Let’s get going. My arms are starting to hurt.”

Don smiled while undoing his mask. He made a motion for Kat to turn and she did, biting her lower lip in the process. She kept repeating in her mind that she didn’t get a bad vibe from them, they helped her fight the vamps, and they could help Dawn. She jumped slightly at the feel of Don’s hand against hers and she took a calming breath as he led her through the sewers. Two turns left, one right, and then a slow climb down a ladder. The smell went from foul to pleasant. She smelled… Pizza? In the background she heard the sound of a television and when the blindfold was removed she saw an old boxcar from a subway, a large expanse that was used as a living room, and finally what resembled a dojo.

“Welcome to our home,” said Mikey. “It isn’t much but…”

He moved to the boxcar and Don opened it for him. They laid Dawn down and soon Donatello was fixing her wounds. They were so busy looking after Dawn that they didn’t inform their family that they were home. However, Kat got quite the shocker when seeing another turtle with a blue bandana come storming in as another much larger turtle with a red bandana followed.

“Listen, Leo, you can kiss my---” The turtle with the thick accent halted his tirade when seeing her then drew his sai. “Who the hell are YOU?”

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

Kat whirled when hearing Dawn’s scream followed by—

“Dudette! Chill! OW!”

A couple loud bangs followed by a curse led Kat to the doorway. There, standing on top of a small bed, was Dawn. She had Donnie’s bo in her hands and both turtles were rubbing their heads.

“Dawn!”

“Kat!” Dawn huuried to her, still gripping the staff. “What’s going on?”

“They’re the good guys!”

Dawn raised a disbelieving eyebrow, especially when seeing two more turtles with their sharps weapons raised. She still hung onto the bostaff while sizing up the two.

“Really?”

“No bad vibes.”

“Ugh,” groaned Mikey. “My head. You’ve got some swing there, babe.”

Dawn blushed, letting the weapon lower.

“Sorry.”

“Mikey,” growled the red bandana-wearing turtle. “What did you do now?”

“Hey, YOU brought home a girl once,” joked Mikey receiving a not so amused glare from both Raphael and Leonardo. “They were fighting vampires!”

Raphael looked at Mikey as if he grew a third head.

“What?!”

“It’s true,” said Donatello. “I was there to witness it. Otherwise I’d be joining you in the whole ‘That’s crazy talk’ brigade.”

“I’m not buyin this,” said Raphael, twirling his sai while glaring at the girls. “And I don’t trust them!”

“Right with you on that one, with the not trusting. And I mean you,” said Dawn, narrowing her eyes at the ruder turtle.

“If we could all sit,” came a hoarse voice from behind them. “We could talk this all over a nice cup of tea.”

Kat and Dawn turned around and facing them was the biggest rat they had ever seen. Kat, not really that big of fan of rodents, gave a small squeak as she hid behind Dawn. Dawn’s eyes had widened and her mouth hung open as she took in the walking, talking rat.

“Holy Moly…”

“Uh, I think she’s going to faint,” said the turtle wearing blue.

“Well, I ain’t catchin her.”

“Raphael!” Splinter pounded his walking stick on the floor. “That is enough!”

“I hit my head harder than I thought,” whispered Dawn as she touched her temple. “I mean, if you aren’t… um… How did this happen?”

“Have a seat, ladies,” said Mikey as she gestured to a worn out sofa. “And relax while we go over the long story of how four helpless turtles turned into four handsome devils!”

The three brothers groaned. Leo was the closest to Mikey so he smacked him upside the head.

“Ow!” Mikey pouted as he rubbed the sore spot. “See what I have to deal with?”

---------

Both girls sat there in silence while letting their story sink in. Both didn’t know how to respond so they just stared off into space, thinking the whole thing over. That Shredder guy sounded scary: and the public had noticed the whole gang problem diminishing. They just didn’t know it was because of the work of four turtles.

“This is like a comic book,” said Kat. “Or a movie.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” said Leonardo. “But we do ask that you keep us a secret.”

“Oh, we know all about secret identities,” said Dawn. “She’s a vampire Slayer, and well. I’m involved with the whole fighting vamps thing too. So… Yeah, we get it. Our lips are sealed.”

“And we loved meeting you and hearing your story but unfortunately we do have to leave,” said Kat. “We’re expected back in Cleveland tomorrow.”

“Aw,” said Mikey, his eyes hurt. “I wanted to chill with you guys! I mean, I love my bros and all but they drive me crazy! Not too many babes to look at down here either.”

“Mikey,” they groaned, trying to somehow find a way to NOT call him their brother.

“What?”

Dawn and Kay giggled but soon they were standing up. They said their goodbyes to a kind looking Leo and a grumbling Raphael. Splinter told them both to take care and to again remember to keep them a secret. They had no problem with that considering their own situation. Soon they were under their hotel, after being led blindfolded by Don and Mikey, and they turned to the turtles.

“Thanks again,” said Dawn as she hugged them both.

“No prob. And if you’re ever in New York again, well, lurk around in the sewers and one of us will find you.”

“Um, probably won’t do that,” said Kat, smiling as she patted Mikey on the shoulder.

“Goodbye my vampire slaying, purely bodacious babes.”

Donnie hurried up the ladder to undo the manhole and when the coast was clear, Dawn and Kat were on the surface. The last thing they saw was Don’s green hand and soon they were alone on the street.

“That was cool,” said Kat. “But I need a shower.”

“Amen,” said Dawn as they moved from the alleyway to the main hotel doors. “I’m never going to forget this day. Or them…”

“They were nice,” said Kat, smiling as she thought of Don.

Dawn knew that look and she nudged her friend as they walked past a couple of old laides who held their noses when getting a whiff of the two girls.

“Anyway,” said Kat as she took out the medallion. “Job well done.”

“Damn straight,” said Dawn as she got to the clerks desk. “Hello, any messages for Dawn Summers?”

The hotel clerk didn’t know what to do. Surely these girls didn’t have a room at their hotel? It was preposterous. However, she saw the name and she sniffed while raising her nose.

“ID?”

Dawn showed her ID then rolled her eyes at the woman as her and Kat when to the elevators. They got to their room and Kat won in getting the shower first so Dawn used the time to call her sister.

“Dawn!”

“Hey Buffy.”

“Did ya get it?”

“Yeah, we got the trinket,” said Dawn as she toed off her shoes. “Took a dive in the sewers but other than that…”

“Ah.” Buffy’s voice was light. “A lot of picking things out of your hair?”

“Yep.” Dawn then thought of her new friends and Kat then walked out of the bathroom. “So, Kat and I were thinking and… We might stick around for a while.”

“Come again?” asked Buffy.

“See, we met some…” Dawn bit her lip, smiling. “Boys.”

“Oh. Um. Boys? Dawnie, we really, REALLY need you back,” insisted Buffy.

“Nice try. Kat’s taken with one of them. His name is Don, like me! But spelled differently.”

“Dawnie, what do you know about these boys?”

“Four brothers, all about the good,” said Dawn.

“F-Four?”

“See you in a couple days!”

Dawn hung up the phone then looked at Kat.

“Feel like walking in the sewers tomorrow?” Dawn then smiled. “I remember how to get there from here. Just cause I couldn’t see didn’t mean I didn’t keep track.”

Kat then raised her hand.

“Guilty.”

Dawn and Kat laughed as Dawn rose to go to the bathroom to shower.

“So tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” said Kat. “Then we can really see what those boys are made of.”

“I, for one, can’t wait to see the look on Raphael’s face,” said Dawn.

“Oh God, he’s going to be pissed!” Kat’s eyes then widened. “Um, maybe we should bring weapons?”

Both girls then bubbled with laughter. Tomorrow was a new day and after they were done destroying the amulet, they would pay their new friends a visit.

THE END?

Family Ties

Mon, 07 May 2007 03:43:26 GMT

A/N: this is a one-shot for this challenge, but will be continued at TTH!

Title: Family Ties

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: When he decided to take in his two nieces; well he wasn’t so excited. And with good reason! They’re turning out to me more than he himself can handle. This takes place S5.

Characters: House, Buffy, Dawn, Ellen

Crossover: House/BTVS/SPN

Genre: Humor

Words: 1708

Challenge: #7, BTVS/SPN/House

Dis: I don’t own BTVS, SPN, or House M.D.

It was Saturday night and instead of working he found himself at home staring at the television. One hand held a remote control while the other held his bottle of pills. His leg was throbbing and the fact that there was crap on the television wasn’t helping either. Then, he heard the front door open and he quickly checked the clock. Well, she was home early.

“You’re home early. What? No clubs catch your eye tonight?”

“You know me,” said his niece as she plopped onto the couch. “If there isn’t enough flashy lights, I’m not interested.”

“Don’t suppose your sister is going to be joining us any time soon? Not that I care, I’m just wanting a time when I should call the police to bring my delinquent of a niece home.”

“Uncle Gregory, you know why she’s out,” said Dawn Summers as she slid off her shoes.

“Yeah, fighting the good fight. Honestly, you two make such a big deal out of it,” he said as he popped another pill.

Dawn giggled as she tucked her legs under herself. She looked to see what her Uncle was watching and she scrunched up her nose.

“Wrestlemania?”

“It’s all that was on,” he said with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“Enough people sue you already,” she quipped, making him frown.

“Joyce wasn’t this quippy, neither was her lump of an ex Hank...”

“I was cursed with your genes,” said Dawn: who hadn’t told her uncle about the whole key thing and probably never would.

“I don’t want you going out anymore.”

This surprised her: usually he didn’t care and Buffy wasn’t around much to really notice that she went out. Then surprise turned into anger as she stood on her feet and glared down at him.

“You’re not my father,” she said, hands on her hips.

“I don’t care,” he said, not looking at her but trying to look past her as two women began to wrestle. “I don’t want you out. I figured you’d know better: what with a Slayer as a sister. But I see you got your father’s genes when it came to smarts. You’re just being stupid.”

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice shaking with anger.

“You heard me. Stupid. Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“No,” she spat.

“Good, now go to your room,” he said, motioning her away.

Dawn stomped her way to her room then slammed her door. House looked at his hand then counted down on his fingers. Five... Four... Three... Two...

“YOU BARRED MY WINDOWS!”

“That, was Buffy’s idea,” said House as Dawn came from her room.

“You know, I could just run out the door. It’s not like you could catch me,” she said, a smirk on her face.

“Nah, I’ll just send Buffy after you,” said Gregory, not batting an eyelash.

Dawn seemed to have an inner struggle before again going to her room and again slamming her door. His whole body shivered and he settled back on the couch.

“I hate kids.” He looked over at a photo and a small smile formed on his lips when seeing him and Joyce as teenagers. “But anything for you, big sis.”

CRASH.

“You’re paying for that,” he sang while flipping the channel.

“Stupid vampire,” growled Buffy as she struggled underneath it.

She had been taken by surprise. Her thoughts had gone to her mother and she had gotten lost in her mustering. Letting fangy here get the best of her. She couldn’t wiggle out of his grasp. In fact, ew, he seemed to be enjoying it. So she whipped her head forward, catching the vampire in the face. He growled and hissed and even reared back a bit, letting her get another punch in. He was soon off of her and she got to her feet. She wasn’t distracted this time. In fact, the vampire sucked at hand-to-hand combat and soon he was nothing but dust in the wind.

“Hah, dust in the wind. That could be a musical.”

She pocketed her stake, done for the night. Checking her watch she grinned when knowing Dawn would be back home by then. She wondered how her Uncle was dealing. She herself knew that Dawn was out of control and though the changing of environment has helped her, in a way it made things worse. Dawn had left her friends in Sunnydale, heck so had she but Dawn seemed to be taking it worse.

Buffy checked in and heard that there really wasn’t an abundance of demonic activity. Buffy didn’t want to admit it but she was also running from Glory, she wondered how the God took her skipping town? Probably not well. Luckily, Glory still didn’t know that Dawn was the key and she wanted to keep it that way until it was too late and Glory was stuck here. THEN Buffy would deal with her. She was half debating on breaking Faith out of jail to help her out on that: but had decided against it fully.

Spike had to be convinced to stay behind and protect the hellmouth. Him having feelings for her still gave her the wiggins. Not that she didn’t believe him, she saw the love in his eyes it was just... Weird. Especially when she herself started having friendly feelings toward him replace the ones of hate, disgust, and another other mean word she couldn’t really think of right now.

“My life is just too strange,” she murmured, twirling her stake in her fingers: pausing when hearing a crash to her left. “Gah, now what?”

She hurried to the sound, which was coming from a crypt. She tip-toed and peeked around to see a woman who looked to be about Giles’s age, opening the stone casket. The woman then seemed to be salting the bones. Ew, she wasn’t going to EAT them, was she? What kind of demon was this? However, when seeing gasoline being drizzled on top, Buffy decided to investigate.

“What’re you doing?”

The woman jumped, and then in a flash had a gun pointed at Buffy. The Slayer was a little disturbed, boy did she hate guns, and she put her hands up in the air while keeping her eyes on her trigger finger.

“Okay, calm down there...” Buffy gulped. “Could you not point that at me?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m just a girl in a graveyard,” she said. “And, uh, hey, what’re YOU doing?”

“I’m the one with the gun,” said the woman, her hard eyes narrowing.

“True,” said Buffy as she nodded her head to the grave. “It’s not everyday you see someone go to the trouble of salting and burning bones...”

Buffy wracked her brain for an explanation then she remembered reading something when researching ghosts when invisible girl went on a spree of violence. To kill a ghost or spirit you salted then burned the bones! Boy did she feel smart! She hoped it was what she was doing.

“Is the Marcus family giving you problems? His spirit decided not to rest I take it?”

The woman looked a little surprised that Buffy knew this. She lowered her gun and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

“How did you know that?”

“I do what you do, but mostly with vampires and demons.”

The woman looked to be thinking for a moment then a chuckle came forth as she pocketed a gun.

“I should have known. Small girl walking in the middle of the night in a graveyard? So, you’re the Slayer.”

“One of,” said Buffy. “There are two of us. Though one is in jail for mass murder-”

“Faith,” said the woman. “I know her.”

“Who’re you? And how?”

“I’m Ellen,” said the woman as she lit a match then dropped it into the fire. “And Faith is one of the many that have saved my life.”

“Oh,” was all Buffy could say as she watched the flames catch.

The door to his apartment opened at two in the morning. He popped open a single eye and saw Buffy quietly usher someone else in. An older woman, so he spoke from the couch: startling them both.

“Please tell me you’re not a lesbian.” He pursed his lips. “I already have enough to deal with when it comes to you.”

“Ew.” Buffy made a face as she turned on the light: making House squint. “I’m so NOT a lesbian. This is Ellen.”

“I’m not a fan of blind dates, either,” said House as he popped a pill then slowly stood.

“She’s a hunter,” said Buffy, rolling her eyes as she went into the fridge to grab an apple and bottled water. “Her motel room got ransacked so she’s staying here tonight.”

“I don’t mean to impose,” said Ellen with her Midwestern accent.

“Well, you are.” Gregory House then hobbled to his bedroom. “Don’t make too much noise and don’t eat my food.”

He then halted his steps and twisted around.

“You don’t snore, do you? I already have to deal with Miss. Chainsaw over there,” said House, indicating Buffy with a nod of his head. “Not to mention the talking she does.”

“I don’t!” She blushed. “Don’t you have to get up early? Now would be a good time to sleep.”

“Fine… Fine.” House went into his bedroom. “And as I said before, no monkey business!”

He slammed his door, and Ellen’s polite smile fell. She put her jacket over the couch while stifling a yawn.

“He isn’t too friendly, is he?”

“No.” Buffy hung her coat up. “He’s far from Mr. Sunshine, but he knows what I do and accepts me and Dawnie into his home. So, I can’t complain. Plus, he bought me shoes.”

Ellen smiled. Being around Buffy made her miss Jo. She took a seat across from Buffy and they stared until Ellen began to talk.

“I have a couple connections. If there’s anything about this Glory person, we’ll find it for you.”

“Thanks.” Buffy capped her water. “And if you ever need help, let me know. I mean, we’re pretty good at the whole demon thing. Ghosts? No so much.”

“Well, I haven’ talked to him in a long time but an old family friend… He has himself a demon problem…”

END

Not Quite Right

Mon, 07 May 2007 03:09:03 GMT

Title: Not Quite Right

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Andrea just wants to start over, so she moves herself and Lucas to Smallville where she meets the Kents. Also, a certain redheaded witch is in town...

Characters: Andrea, Lucas, Lana, Martha, Clark, Willow, Vi

Spoilers: Smallville: S6, SPN: S1

Genre: Drama, Humor

Challenge: #7---SPN/BTVS/SV

Words: 1408

---

Andrea Barr was a simple woman from a simple town. She had a son who she loved very much and indeed felt blessed. However, the whole simplicity of life that she had was shattered about a year ago when she found out some deep, dark secrets that almost cost her and her son their lives. Anyone who went through what she had would have probably done the same thing. Move the heck away.

So she did. She packed up hers and Luca’s things and they drove until coming to the nice, quiet town of Smallville, Kansas. Well, she thought it would be quiet but weird things still happened around town. She later found through the grapevine that some meteor rocks that fell had some horrible effects on the citizens of this quaint community. However, she was tapped out of cash so it wasn’t like she could up and move again: especially when she just bought this house and her old one was already sold.

So this was home sweet home. Her boxes were unpacked and tossed in the dumpster she rented for the week. Her and Lucas had scrubbed the home from top to bottom with some help of her newer neighbors and newly found friends. The one woman she liked the most was Martha Kent. She met her at the small town market and the woman was all smiles and even offered to have her and Lucas over for dinner. However, Andrea flipped that around and invited the Kent’s over herself. She wanted to seem like a great neighbor: mainly so that she could fit in and possibly really start over.

There was a knock at her door and she stood from the floor where she had been trying to assemble her new coffee table. Unfortunately hers had been damaged on the move and the company decided to tell her that they wouldn’t pay for it: even though she herself had paid for the insurance claim. She was far from happy when hearing that news and her mood had been sour the whole day.

Another knock and she brushed her hands on her jeans while hurrying to the door. She opened it a crack, then all the way when seeing someone she hadn’t seen before. A small woman stood before her, so she wasn’t worried too much for her safety but nowadays you couldn’t be too careful.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi,” said the brunette girl with an expensive looking suit on. “I’m Lana Luther. I’m here to personally welcome you here to Smallville. I was told you were on the school board in your old town—and I was just wondering if you’d be interested here.”

“Oh, um,” said Andrea. “I’m not sure. I mean I just moved here and--”

“Oh I don’t need an answer right away,” said Lana, her smile brightening. “I was just inquiring on your interest and to also invite you to the towns annual barbeque.”

“Martha did say something about that,” said Andrea, racking her brain. “I was thinking about attending.”

“You know Martha Kent?” Lana smiled at Andrea’s nod. “She’s a wonderful woman. She has a son named Clark he’s...”

Lana trailed off, thinking about her one and only true love. Of his secret that she held close to her heart. Of the danger he could be in if Lex ever knew. Her smile slipped when remembering him asking her about their wedding day. Damn. She really had to put extra effort in her facade; it was, in fact, up to her to finally take the Luther’s out once and for all.

“Helpful,” she finished with a bright smile. “So you will be coming? That’s wonderful. Tomorrow at six, and I’ll see you there.”

Andrea smiled as the woman turned on her heel and walked off the porch. The woman seemed a little off but Andrea just brushed that feeling aside and closed the door.

“Willow, I still don’t think that tip should be trusted,” said Vi as she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “From what I heard, there as some freaky occurrences that aren’t so hellmouth related that happen here.”

“It’s still worth checking out,” said Willow as she walked along the quiet streets. “Now what was the name again?”

“Leslie Nottington. There is some huge get together tomorrow night so we should be able to find her there. Considering she’s not been at her house all day.”

“Well, her mom said she was a free spirit,” said Willow as she crossed the street. “So, yanno, we can work with that.”

Vi smiled as she took crossed the street. The local market was just to her right and she was too busy looking inside to notice a petite woman carrying a bag of groceries.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” said the woman as she bent to pick up the food. “I wasn’t looking.”

“My fault,” said Vi, smiling as she handed the woman over some celery. “I was daydreaming.”

“I’ve been guilty of that,” said the woman, smiling kindly.

“F-Fred?”

The woman looked at Willow, her brows furrowing.

“No... Sorry, you must have be confused with someone else--”

“MOM!” A little boy with red hair came from the store. “The woman stopped me cause you forgot a bag.”

“Oh, geez, thanks Lucas,” said Andrea as she ruffled her son’s hair. “I swear, without you I’d lose my mind.”

“Huh.” Willow smiled awkwardly as her wide eyes look in this Fred look-a-like and her SON. “Well, you’re not the only one guilty of that...”

“Um, it was nice meeting you,” said Andrea as she stepped around Willow, holding Lucas’s hand to keep him close.

“Ok,” said Willow as she followed Andrea with her eyes. “This town is officially freaking me out.”

“Told you so,” said Vi.

The table was set, the chicken was in the oven, and the potatoes were ready to be mashed. She turned the heat down on the gravy and then made sure that the green beans were still simmering in the buttery water. Happy with the way things were going she quickly exited the kitchen to make sure everything else was clean. Then her doorbell rang and Lucas was the one to answer.

“Hello Mrs. Kent.”

“Hello, Lucas,” said Martha as she entered with a bottle of wine. “This is my son Clark.”

“Hey,” said Clark, nodding his head at the boy. “I saw you had a hoop outside.”

“Came with the place,” said Lucas. “I don’t play much.”

“Oh.” Clark then looked up when Andrea entered. “Hello.”

“Hi!” Andrea took the bottle away from Martha then took her coat. “Thanks for coming. Excuse the lack of decor, some of the stuff got lost most got broken.”

“Oh no,” said Martha, frowning. “Were you reimbursed?”

“I’m having difficulty with that part,” said Andrea as she hung up their jackets in the closet.

“Oh,” said Martha. “If you paid for insurance and they aren’t following through, I can arrange some sort of assistance.”

“Really? I don’t want to, I mean, you don’t have to--”

“Once mom has an idea set in her head, it’s better just to go through with it,” said Clark, showing off his perfect white teeth in a grin.

“Oh, okay. Well, dinner is just about ready. Make yourselves at hime.”

“Lucas, want to go shoot some hoops?”

Lucas shrugged then went out the front door, Clark: taking that as a yes, joined him. When stepping outside in yard he noticed a couple girls walking along slowly: eyeing the house. Curious about them he handed Lucas the worn basketball he had found then listened in on the two mystery women.

“Willow... You shouldn’t take too much into this. So she looks like Fred?”

“But Fred is dead and she just doesn’t look like her. She IS her. I mean, to a pat. Minus the whole kid thing. At least, I don’t think Fred had kids...”

Were they talking about Andrea?

“Hey Clark!” Clark looked up to see the basketball coming at him. He caught it easily. “You’re shot.”

Clark took his shot, made it, and then watched as Lucas made a couple attempts. He turned to see that the two women were gone. He’d have to keep an eye out for them and see what they were all about. And maybe, just maybe, he had to keep an eye on Andrea too...

“Clark,” said Martha from the doorway. “Dinner!”

“Coming, Mom.”

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 02:59:17 GMT

Title: Seeing Double

Author: PyroDeScorpio2

Summary: Just a case of mistaken identity. Or is it?

Characters: Denny Duquette, Izzie Stevens, Faith, Missouri Mosley, Ardelle Weber

Genre: Humor/Mystery

Disclaimer: I don’t own: BTVS, SPN, or Grey’s Anatomy

Pairing: Izzie/Denny

Words: 1591

-----------

God he was bored. So bored and so fed up with himself. With this weak body. Some days he just wanted to walk out and never come back to this place, die as an alone man with too much money and not enough people in his life to share it with. Other days he just wished he could die so that it was all over with. Those days were slim now thanks to the one named Isobel Stevens. His Izzie. She put a smile on his face and made his poor heart skip a beat. Which probably wasn’t a good thing but damn: he was falling in love with that woman. The woman who liked to knit sweaters, the woman that kicked his ass in Scrabble, and the woman whose touch was so soft--- God he was turning into a romantic.

But she was nowhere to be found. Off on a surgery though at times she did stick her head in for a quick hello. The television was off due to it being some comedy he wasn’t interested in or some depressing news about the war overseas. Solitaire could only entertain him so far.

“You son of a bitch,” said a girl from his doorway, startling him: and making him forget how bored he was.

He had no idea who she was and was certain she had him mixed up with someone else. At least, he hoped so. Because the way she clenched her hands and the way her steely brown gaze met his own. Man, if he were anyone else, he was more than certain they’d be pissing their pants. He had a catheter to prevent that sort of thing.

“I’m sorry?”

“I can’t believe you. They think you’re dead and here you are…” She marched in, placing her hands on the railing of the bed. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you myself?”

“Uh, cause I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” said Denny Duoquette, wondering who pissed this small girl off, cause she looked ready to pop and he was hoping that when she did he was no where near her.

“Don’t fuck around with me, John” she growled, gripping him by the gown as if ready to throw him off of the bed.

“My name isn’t John.” Now he was confused. “I don’t even know a John.”

“But…” She let go of him, her eyes still not trusting. “No, wait. Is this some sort of mind game? Sam said you were pretty good at those. Dean, well Dean holds you in such high regards. I really don’t know why, there isn’t much here that impresses me.”

“Give a guy a break here,” he said, wincing when his chest constricted. “I’ve got a bad heart.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Hey!” He put his hand on the hospital call button. “You came into MY room, threatened me, and quite frankly you’re one scary lady.”

She smiled at this.

“So give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call hospital security on you?”

“Because,” said another voice from the doorway. Another Woman. Great. “She thinks you’re someone else.”

Both turned to see a heavier set woman with Cocoa skin enter the room. Following her was another. They were identical and both the girl and John looked at them in confusion.

“Missouri,” said the girl. “What’s going on?”

“Faith,” said Missouri, “This is my sister Ardelle. I heard you from down the hall child, what’s got you in such a tiff.”

“Well, the boys and I are here in business. Of course, I got assigned the job of checking out the morgue and who do I hear on the way? Johnny boy here.”

“It’s not him,” said a woman named Ardelle. “I know he looks similar to John Winchester. But they are two very different people.”

Faith took a step back from John. Her face was weary as she looked from him to the two women.

“So they’re like twins, or what? Speakin’ of, thanks for informin’ a girl on you havin’ a double as well, Miz.”

“No,” said Missouri. “Just an occurrence that cannot be explained. And girl if you call me Miz one more time I‘ll show you the reason why Dean is afraid of my wooden spoon.”

“Ok,” said Denny, raising his hands in the air to try and direct their attention back to him. “For the slow people in the class, mind telling me what’s going on here?”

“You have, had, a twin,” said Faith. “He’s dead. I thought he was you. Sorry for the whole threatening your life thing.”

“T-Twin? Dead?”

“Child!” Missouri smacked the back of Faith’s head with her purse. “You need to learn some people skills!”

“Damn! What the heck do you have in there? Bricks?”

While Faith was rubbing the back of her head Missouri went over to Denny. She took his hand, gasping when seeing his past and his future and did her best to stop the tears that wanted to fall. So tragic, but he would be happy. She shook off his worried look then decided to explain things to him a little bit better.

“There was a man who we all knew. Ardelle told me about you when she saw you. I was curious and decided to come and see. It’s coincidence that Faith was here as well. We’re sorry to have brought this upon you. He passed, the doctors said it was a heart attack…”

“Well, me and this guy have a lot in common,” joked Denny. “Bad hearts and devilishly good looks.”

Missouri smiled while taking her hand away. The man still looked weary of them all but she couldn’t blame him. Poor, man. He had no clue what was in store for him but she knew how to make some of the pain better. And the way she was going to help was currently on her way to the room.

“Faith?”

“Yeah?”

“Sam and Dean won’t be making an appearance here, will they? The last thing they need is to see someone looking like their father,” said Missouri.

“No. I’m supposed to check back. Luckily, no vamp--ah, nothing unusual. So we’ll be on watch tonight for what is, erm, missing,” said Faith, revealing a lot, but saying it in a way that Denny had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

“Good,” said Ardelle. “Richard has put a lot of his resources in Denny here. Wouldn’t want the poor boy getting hurt.”

“Yeah, I agree with Ardelle, here,” said Denny just as Izzie came into the room.

“Oh. You have visitors,” she said, eyeing Faith, Missouri, then Ardelle. “Wow, you have a twin?”

“Yes, this is Missouri. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to find Richard.”

Ardelle left, as well as Faith: leaving Izzie along with Missouri. The woman walked up to her and took her hand. Missouri smiled and Izzie grew a little flustered when looking into her eyes.

“The pink dress is what you’ll want,” said Missouri. “You’ll know what I’m talking about when it comes. Don’t be so haste in your decisions to save his life. Do NOT do any unnecessary cutting…”

She ended her speech on a whisper and then with a squeeze of Izzie’s hand, Missouri left. The blonde intern felt strange, as if the woman had looked into her soul. She turned to Denny, who had the same perplexed look on his face.

“Who were those people?”

“Well,” said Denny, patting his bed then frowning when she sat in a chair. “Ardelle’s twin Missouri, who freaked me out with what she said. Oh, I had someone who looked exactly like me--but wasn’t my twin.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said with a chuckle. “That firecracker of a girl, Faith? She threatened to beat me up.”

“Aww, poor Denny, getting his life threatened by a little girl.”

“Hey! She was really scary!” He put a hand to his heart. “I mean it.”

“You’re okay though, right,” said Izzie, panicking slightly.

“I’m fine.” He said, taking her hand and putting it on his chest. “See?”

Izzie smiled brightly then moved to sit on the part of the bed he wanted her to sit in originally. She had another confused look on her face and he found it adorable the way her nose scrunched up.

“Huh…”

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing… Just…”

“Spit it out, Stevens.”

“What the hell did she mean by ‘the pink dress’?”

---------

“So he really doesn’t remember,” said Ardelle as her and Missouri went to the elevator.

“No.” Missouri spoke in hushed tones. “He doesn’t remember a thing. That demon did a real number on him. I hate lying to those boys but, I know this will only hurt them in the end. He’s going to die, Ardelle.”

“Missouri, this is Seattle Grace--”

“He’s meant to die. He’s meant for better things,” said Missouri as she entered the elevator when the doors opened.

“I still don’t get it,” said Ardelle.

“John Winchester is a threat. Not now due to his memory loss-- I saw what will come to pass. He isn’t needed yet. Besides, he needs that new heart.”

“So,” said Ardelle. “The demons sucked the life out of him, took his memory, then made up a life. What’ the point? Why not just kill him?

“I don’t know,” answered Missouri, dreading the answer. “Right now, lets let him be happy. It doesn’t surprise me that he chose Izzie. She looks an awful lot like Mary did at that age…”

--------------

END

Twisted Wonderland

Remember (FR-18) MA

No PLace Like Home (FR-18)

Chapter 14 (Dragon) *PG-15*

Family (PG-13)

PICK A PERSON, ANY PERSON...ONCE

LITTLE QUIZ

Smallville Season 8

Dirty Little Secret

Telephone BLues

A LETTER I SENT TO THE CW

That Final Step

That Final Step

END

Free (Roadhouse)

Mistaken Identity

What a Wanker

Of Operas, Éclairs, and Booze

See Want Have

maxie the vampire slayer

When the Bodacious Babes Met the Radical Turtles

Family Ties

Not Quite Right

Chapter 14 (Dragon) PG-15