alltheroads | motel 6 } { ain't no need to plan it, jump right in and jam it

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motel 6 } { ain't no need to plan it, jump right in and jam it

Sam Winchester is a nice boy.

Sam Winchester is also a weapon of mass destruction when it comes to Buffys the world over.

It’s the dimples. Sure, she could also toss in the fact that he genuinely is a nice boy. Such a nice boy, in fact, that he hasn’t even kissed her yet. Sure, there have been a few dates, and a few co-patrols, but every time they get that close—every time there is that moment where there could possibly be something—they pull back.

For once that ‘they’ is actually a mutual ‘they.’ Buffy doesn’t know what Sam has been through, but she isn’t the only one clearing her throat and backing away at the end of the night. She appreciates them taking things slow, but there are only so many moments a girl could miss before things officially stray into ‘too slow’ territory. And Buffy is starting to get there.

Now, however, isn’t the time to be considering that.

Now is the time to be dealing with a vampire.

They’re doing some more joint patrolling around Bete Noire, which never fails to turn up some kind of trouble. They’re in the graveyard somewhere near Spike’s crypt when the fang springs on them, and they go to town. Buffy is leading the charge, as per usual, and is trying to take him down, Slayer-style, but all it takes is one bad step, leading to her losing her footing. The vamp gets in one good punch and Buffy goes spinning backwards, looking to hit the ground.

What she actually does hit is much more comfortable.

Her hands catch Sam’s shoulders, as he stumbles back to take her weight, and suddenly she is far closer to him than she has ever been and its … well, its something else. Sam is a whole lot of warm, solid muscle and strength, and she has missed feeling that. It’s been a long time since there’s been a guy trying to catch her, and the minute she meets his eyes, she knows that he’s feeling it too. She keeps staring at him, holding his gaze for a moment, and his head starts to dip …

“Hold that thought.”

She shifts the angle of the stake in her hand, twists her body just enough to launch the stake into the heart of the vampire. He dusts instantly, and when she turns back to him, Sam is smirking.

“You couldn’t have done that fifteen minutes ago?”

She grins. “You gotta at least let them think they’re winning.”

He laughs, before shifting to settle them a little more so that more of her weight is resting on her feet. She doesn’t move away, though. Her hands stay settled on his shoulders, her body pressed against his, and for a moment, the silence just settles between them, but this time it isn’t awkward. There’s a want there, and this time, she isn’t going to let either of them clear their throat and walk away.

“So,” she sighs. “That thought you were holding.”

He nods, licking his lips, before moving closer to her, sliding his arms around her waist. She leans into him, pushing up on her toes as his head dips and his lips slowly met hers. The kiss is slow at first, warm and soft, just learning their way around each other. One hand moves up lightly, sliding against the side of his neck, and once they eventually have to breathe, she stays close. He rests his forehead against hers, and a shy smile crosses his lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

She grins, her teeth raking over her bottom lip as she nods. “Me too.” His smile widens at that, her own turns a bit coy as she pulls back, stepping away from him and sliding one hand into hers. “I think you should walk me home.”

He blinks for a moment, almost as though he’s not registering what she’s getting at, and then it hits him. His eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

***

Her back hits the door of her hotel room, and it forces a heady giggle from her lips. Sam isn’t an imposing guy. He’s not the type to shove himself in your space or just take without reason. But give him permission to take, and Sam Winchester is possessive. He’s got a foot on her, and more muscle mass, and the way he presses her against the door makes her feel shorter than she already is, but not in a diminutive way. It’s not a way that scares her. In fact, she could even go so far as to say that she likes it.

One arm sneaks around his neck as the other fumbles back behind her for the door knob. Once she actually gets it open, Sam’s hand is sneaking lower under her butt to haul her up so that she’s more at lip level. She wraps her legs around his waist, drawing him in closer. The two of them stumble into the room, so caught up in each other that they don’t even notice that the layout isn’t quite the same.

At least, not until Sam’s foot catches on a bed that’s not where it’s supposed to be, Buffy’s back hits the footboard at an odd angle, and they’re both tumbling onto the floor. They land hard, the wind getting knocked from them for a moment, and Buffy can’t help it. She laughs.

After all, it wouldn’t be a first hook up, without an awkward moment.

There’s that familiar smile on Sam’s face as well, and he shifts so that he’s hovering over her, one hand moving to rest against her side. She smiles back at him, one hand sliding into his shirt to pull him closer to kiss him again, when she catches sight of the ceiling over his shoulder. And suddenly, she’s very, very confused.

“That’s not my ceiling.”

“What?” Sam turns and glances around, and Buffy pushes herself into a sitting position.

“That’s not my ceiling. I’ve spent many a night staring at my ceiling, and this is not it.” She looks around, frowning when there’s nothing she recognizes about this room. “In fact, this isn’t my room at all.”

Buffy may be panicking. Just a little.

And that’s when she notices the guy sitting on the bed across from them, looking down at them with the most annoying amused smirk she has ever seen.

“Oh, please. Don’t let me interrupt.”

“And ... who are you?”

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Dean, that explanation is screwier than you may know.

"Wait -- Dean like your brother?" Buffy has been hanging around Sam enough to at least know that much, even if she never met the guy. "That's your brother?"

He's shorter than she pictured. Granted, taller than her, but still ... short. At least in comparison to Sam. Weren't bigger siblings supposed to be ... bigger? Then again, Sam was gigantic, so ... she wasn't sure you could be much taller than that without being a professional basketball player. Anyway, that opinion was put to the side in favor of the problem at hand.

"Is this the city screwing with us? Like -- we were going to my room, but do you think the city could have just shake, rattle and rolled us over to yours?"

Yes, she's completely ignoring Dean in this scenario. Buffy is a problem solver. She wants to solve the problem, this particular problem being this is not her room.

Edited 2011-05-05 11:21 (UTC)

"That's my brother," Sam confirms after the shock wears off, while thoughts race through his mind as he tries to grapple with what just happened. "... One of them, in any case."

He can't forget what he's learned in Bete Noire. There were more Winchesters than anyone knew what to deal with. By Dean's reaction, he isn't the Dean that was in Bete Noire, and something about that makes a stone sink down into his stomach. He's heard of those that go back home, but that still leaves a couple of loose ends.

"I think we can't rule anything out, considering where we were. I don't know what it'd gain by taking us out of it, but--"

Sam finally turns to Dean. He'll give proper introductions later, Dean, he promises!

First he has to make sure who he's talkign to. Or rather, which version. "Bete Noire, City of Sin, Hellsing... does any of this ring a bell to you?"

"...Hellsing." Blink, blink, blink. "What, that's some demon boy-band or something? Bete Noire's their porn channel? Is it any good or do people just get ripped apart and not in the sexy way?"

In other words--no, Sam. Your brother has no idea what you're talking about.

"So, here's in idea, how about I ask the questions? Like why you're asking all this stuff, who the girl is, and what the hell is going on right now?"

Dean's at a loss, and for a guy who sees a lot of crazy things on a daily basis, that's saying something.

Buffy glances between Sam and Dean and ... doesn't know what to do with any of this. Because she has an idea of what's going on and she doesn't like it. She doesn't like it at all.

" ... Since when did I become Buffy the World Hopper."

That isn't what she meant to say. But it's what comes out, and she doesn't sound all to happy about it. At least that's one of Dean's question's answered, though. So it's a step in the right direction.

"Can I just add in a 'where are we?' for good measure?"

Apologies, Buffy.

Some would say the Winchesters are an acquired taste. Or a taste one does not... acquire at all. It really depends on who's asking. Sam's heart sinks further down to the ground at Dean's answer. It's still Dean, but it's not the one that's been left behind.

"Look, man, I'm serious. There's a lot to explain, but we--this is gonna sound crazy. Weirder than our kind of weird. But you and I were on our way to our next case back in November and we found ourselves trapped in another city instead."

This is not going to go well. He can already tell. Sam grabs a hold of Buffy's hand with his own, in an attempt to be comforting. "I'm not sure where we are. My brother and I are on the road a lot," he answers apologetically. And then he turns to Dean. "This is Buffy, she's my..." his voice trails off and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"Can you tell me what the last thing you remember with me here is?"

"...Buffy the World Hopper. Hi, Buffy."

It's taking all the self-control Dean can muster not to say anything like Seriously, her name is Buffy?? aloud. Not to mention what other city, how were we trapped, or even have you been dropped on your giant head or something.

He doesn't even call Sam out on that awkward I don't want to say "girlfriend" moment. There's something more pressing.

"The last thing I remember with you here? Was leaving to get a Coke, man. Seriously. You haven't left. It's November. We're in Nevada. We're headed to California. We were last in Monument, Colorado. So you wanna tell me what the hell you think happened?"

" ... Hi."

Can she just say that she officially hates her life now? Because she has a sneaking suspicion that she has just been transported to Sam's world. While she is sure that Sam's world is very nice and has plenty of things for her to slay, she also has a sneaking suspicion that if that actually happened? She's stuck here.

Permanently.

"This is not good right? Please tell me I'm not the only one riding the Not Good train here, because if I am ... I might just have to go quietly freak out over there."

There is a beat.

"Then again, this isn't a bad thing for you guys, you guys belong here, it's just me, being the oddball Slayer out. Great. This is just peachy."

One more beat as she wraps her head around this more.

"You know what? I don't even know if I should bother with the patrolling and the slaying and the fighting evil because what does it get me? It gets me sent through time displaced to other universes, and you know what happens? It sucks that's what happens. I get great big steaming revelations that I'd rather not have shoved in my face, and things get violent, and messy, and I usually come out hating myself which, by the way? Really not fair when all I've done is save the world, oh, a couple dozen times." Her eyes shift and she starts yelling at the ceiling. "What about me, huh? When do I get a stupid vacation?"

There is one final beat, as she looks back at the two boys in front of her, and ... she realizes that letting all that out probably wasn't the best idea. She ducks her head sheepishly and sighs.

"Sorry. I'm done now."

Sam wants to reply to both of them, but he isn't really getting a word in edgewise. Every time he opens his mouth to say something, there are more words. Dean and Buffy saying a lot of words, okay.

He sits at the foot of the bed opposite where Dean was. It's certainly the kind of place they'd crash in before they had to keep moving. He just doesn't remember it--probably because he never got to this point, and while they were still on the road, he found himself in Bete Noire. His eyes widen slightly at the yelling, and he looks over at Dean, just knowing what he's thinking, before he clears his throat.

"I'm sorry," he says to her earnestly. That's not all he wants to say to Buffy's very valid rant, but it's what he has, mostly. He's sorry because it does suck for her, even if he's... happy he has his brother and that hs'e ssomehow found her way here too, so he didn't have to choose. "It's okay, I know this is... not easy to wrap your head around."

Whether you have a master's degree in slaying and the supernatural. Bete Noire had a way of making everything that much more headache-inducing.

"If--there's any way to get you back to your world and that's what you want, I'll help you find that."

And he means it, despite the fact he doesn't really want to lose her.

"It's not about what I think happened, man. It happened. How else would you explain the two of us materializing here in the room?" Sam runs a hand through his face before he shakes his head. He braces either knee with his hands and looks over at his brother, relief crashing into him just... with the mere assurance he's there.

"We were on the road. After what happened with Lilith and the guards and...you remember that." He doesn't really want to relay it all over again, and it's been so long for him that it takes him a moment to continue. "We found ourselves in a city called Bete Noire. It pulls people in from their own worlds and the city had a life of its own. Really weird things happened there, Dean."

Like the fact their dad was there, but it's something that he wants to tell Dean until they're alone. "Where we were, it was April. And now I guess it brought us back to square one."

Dean's a bit bemused by the verbal torrent; he may not fully understand what the hell Buffy's talking about, but living the life he and Sammy have, he thinks he can relate at least a little. Sometimes, destiny hands you the short end of the stick.

And then expects you to bury it in the nearest monster.

"Yeah, Buffy. Anything you need, we'll help." No, he doesn't know her, but Sam apparently does, and thinks enough of her to make that kind of offer--of course he's in.

He focuses his gaze back on his brother, shaking his head. "Dude. From my point of view? Nothing happened. You were here. You've been here this whole time, only in the two minutes it took me to walk out and get a Coke, you materialized a girl and a story about being in another city. I haven't been anywhere else. Do you know what did this to you?"

Buffy is actually the one who was throwing out most of the words there, but she's grateful that he let her get all the words out.

She also appreciates the offers to help her get home if she wants to, but she doesn't know if there's much they can do. The offer does mean something, though, and she shifts to lean against Sam's leg a bit, taking that bit of support while she was there.

"The city," she sighs, closing her eyes. "It's Bete Noire, the city of sin. There's lore about it in pretty much every world, but it draws people in and is supposed to bring out their darker desires."

Sam blows out a breath that's relieved and a little more steadying than the last. He wouldn't blame his brother for giving him all the what the fuck, have you finally lost it? looks, but at least he seems open to listening.

With Dean, he'll take what he can get.

"There's lore on it," Sam assures Dean. Their kind of lore, too. "Dad had some knowledge of it. Biblically, it's known as Enoch... maybe that'll ring a bell. For once, it didn't want anything to do with me, personally. We were just one of the many that were randomly sent there."

He pauses, and adds subsequently, "I don't know how we left it, but we need to find out. It could send us back there at any moment's notice, and I'm not taking that chance."

Sam's barely gotten there's lore on it out of his mouth before his brother's on his feet, one hand waving to tell him to keep talking, he's listening. He rummages around in his bag and comes up with their dad's journal, opening it as he settles back on the bed.

He flips pages as his brother goes on. When Sam falls silent there's a minute or so of silence broken only by the soft sound of pages turning. And then Dean stabs a page with a finger, turning the book and setting it on Sam's knee so he and Buffy can both see.

"Dad has some notes on the place. Enoch's supposedly the first city. Founded by Cain, like of Abel and Cain, after he was condemned to walk the earth forever for killing his brother. Sounds like a great place, with a founder like that. Like you said--pops up in all kinds of religious texts but there were never directions or any clues on the way to get there. Or get out." He regards them both thoughtfully. "You both just got sucked in, is that what happened?"

Buffy watches as Dean moves around the room, pulling out the journal and flipping through it. She perks up a little bit from her position on the floor peering at the journal. If she's going to be sticking around, she's going to have to page through it later. She knows just from patrolling with Sam that the creatures in her world are different from the ones here. If she's going to beat them, she needs to learn how.

She shakes her head. "With me it was more like I ... got derailed. But if you get the whole story on that one you might think me more crazy than I already am."

Sam does he keep talking. He mentions what research he got on the city before he was pulled out of it, the curse of Babylon, the conclusion of which he has no recollection of, and the binds in the books themselves--from the library of the city, that made looking into them that much harder. He drags in another breath and quiets down once the book's placed on his lap.

"You're not crazy," Sam assures, and it sounds almost offhanded but it's not.

"It wasn't just the two of us, Dean." His gaze is filled with intent, and there's a sickening feeling in his stomach as the realization sinks in. Heavy, like a stone. "You were there with me. Or... a version of you, I guess."

Which means he's still back in Bete Noire. Without Sam.

For the moment, with the narration's apologies, Buffy's forgotten. Because Dean has taken in what his brother has said, all of it. Especially that last bit.

Dean cannot imagine an existence without Sam. He sold his soul to get his brother back. The idea of him--even if it's some other him, out there in some other universe or crazy city or whatever the hell is going on--having to exist without his brother... even the thought chills him.

"...I hope he's okay back there."

"I know my opinion might not mean much, but I think he will be?" she says softly. "I mean, I never met you, but there's always a chance that another Sam could go back, from another point in time. I've been back and forth before -- I don't remember the first time, but there are people there who remembered me. Plus, it's not like Sam was the only Sam there. There were two of him."

Not that Buffy knows any of the details regarding the second Sam, ie. he's a demon, that his Dean fails at making friends, or that lots of badness happens when that Sam's switch gets flipped. But that's a problem for another day in her mind.

She also didn't think of the fact that there being more than one Sam? Could be a bad thing.

Sam meets Dean's gaze, and for a split second there, he can't keep the worry and the ache from showing on his face. Sam's not as good as he is at shoving down the emotions when they come, and he swallows thickly as he sinks back down onto the bed. It's very difficult to understand the relationship between the two of them--how they depend and love each other.

"I have to--"

To what? Get back to him? What about the Dean standing before him? Sam's so torn about it he's not sure what to say. He lowers his gaze. "It's true," he says to Dean, attempting to ignore the painful clenching in his chest. Failing at it. "There were two of us. There were... several of you. It all boils down to alternate universes and differing timelines, but it was really confusing, to say the least."

But that doesn't change the fact the Dean in Bete Noire--it was still his Dean. God.

"More than one of me sounds like more than a place could handle, but two of you?" Dean shakes his head, eyes a bit wide. "Bitchfaces in stereo. Awesome."

...Sorry, Sam. Dean's trolling knows no bounds.

He lets out a sigh. "Yeah, look, too bad for him--me--whatever, but it's not like we can do a whole hell of a lot for his ass right now. We need to worry about the two of you. What was going on when you suddenly appeared in bed here?"

Buffy's eyes widen at the question, and she shifts uncomfortably before shrugging. "Not a whole lot? Actually it was pretty tame as far as the city is concerned. We were patrolling, we staked some vamps, we ... decided not to patrol anymore."

She is not going to get into the reasons why. She's sure that Dean, being a big boy, can fill in the blanks. Then a sudden realization hits her. "My scythe! My scythe was in the room back at the hotel, damnit!"

It's one thing to be kidnapped to another universe. It's another entirely to have left behind a piece of all the Slayers before you.

"Dude, can you quit with the jokes right now?"

... Way to totally ruin Sam's emo moment there, Dean. He's actually so offended by you right now, he can't even. The lineface that appears on his face only falls when asked that question. It makes him slightly awkward, and a little more offended if only because he would have rather not been interrupted.

Sam is by nature somewhat awkward, and he looks sheepish before he glares at Dean in a it is none of your business kind of way. And will not wonder what Buffy means by 'pretty tame', no.

"Dude, relax."

Okay, fine, Sam, for the sake of your friend there (and the fact that whatever happened to you may or may not have cockblocked you), Dean will lay off the jokes for right now. He totally won't ask, as he turns to Buffy, what she meant by pretty tame.

"So I'd offer to drive you to the local Scythes-R-Us but I got the feeling that's not gonna be good enough. That your scythe isn't any old scythe. What's so special about it? This scythe. That you left behind. In the hotel. Where you were not patrolling."

...Look, he laid off for right now and right now came and went, what do you want him to do?

Buffy's "pretty tame" is not in reference to Sam, for the record. She's referring to the city and it's tendency to shake things up. And she doesn't want to talk about her sex life with the brother of the boy she may happen to want to sex up. Especially when they've just met.

So she'll glare. A lot. And then cross her arms in front of her chest. "Do you want the short version, or the long?"

Little known fact: There is no short version of Buffy's story. So really, that question should have been the long version or the really, really long version, but that's just a matter of semantics.

"Fine," he says to Dean's 'relax.'

SAM CAN TOTALLY RELAX, DEAN. LOOK AT HIM. RELAXING. With his jaw slightly clenched and his hands braced on his knees, shoulders stiffened.

Sam glances over at Buffy apologetically.

It would be hard to explain that this is Dean actually behaving well right now, and there are points for effort there. He's going to keep flipping through their dad's journal, and he won't interrupt Buffy's answer, whether it's the long version or the short one.

"Fine," Dean echoes, gaze drifting over his brother a moment. LOOK HOW WELL-BEHAVED HE IS RIGHT NOW BUFFY only you have no real idea he's actually making an effort, so. At least Sam knows.

His attention returns to Buffy, and he shrugs off that glare she's shooting him. "Long version's good. I got time and I like to be well-informed." The more he understands about whatever the hell happened, the better.

And this is the part where Buffy explains Slayers, being Chosen, the whole nine yards. The narration is just putting that as a blanket statement because the story really is very, very long, and she's pretty sure that everyone here knows it. Sometimes she just gets tired of typing it.

And when Buffy finally gets around to the scythe: "The scythe is a weapon that was mystically made specifically for the Slayer. It's magic matches the kind that made us, and is more to be an extension of ourselves -- almost like a power booster. To everyone else, it feels just like a pretty awesome scythe, but to us, it feels like it's a part of us. It's also super duper powerful and can be manipulated by dark magic which means I can't just leave it in Bete Noire."

She takes a breath, before looking up at Dean. "You get all that?"

Edited 2011-05-20 11:53 (UTC)

Sam looks over at Dean and gives a slight shrug.

Look, she's really cool and more importantly, she gets their world and is a part of it because she's Chosen for it and they share a lot of similarities and yet differences and she's really hot.

He does give you points for trying, Dean. Your level of trying.

Dean just sits there a moment when Buffy's done, taking that all in. He casts his brother a glance at that shrug. He rolls one shoulder in reply.

"I get it," he says. He lets out a mirthless chuckle. "It's a damn crazy story but the world we live in--it works. I believe you, Buffy. And I'd say what we need to do is get back there and get your scythe back but... you two don't even know how you got there or back. So I'm not sure that's something we can do right away."

"I didn't think it was," she sighs. "I just ... wish there was a way, so that I didn't have to worry about someone who's not supposed to getting a hold of it."

That's all she's really concerned about. It getting used for evil. Evilness done with the scythe is a bad, bad thing, and she doesn't think Bete Noire needs any more evil to go with it.

Sam lets out a heavy breath and stifles back the urge to say he's sorry. Again. It doesn't fix anything, and he's frustrated he can't figure it out. He's supposed to be the brains--this should be something he should know, and he doesn't.

"There has to be a way. People found themselves back in Bete Noire frequently after being taken away from it. I just don't think it's our choice."

Which sucks, but that goes without saying.

"Which means we're shit out of luck." Sorry, Buffy. Dean's just calling it like he sees it.

"So what do we do in the meantime? While we wait for Bete Noire to come calling?" He looks over at Buffy. "I assume you don't have anywhere else to go." He doesn't mean that in a get the hell out of here kind of way. He's just saying.

"Figure you're gonna have to stick with us for a while."

She nods. It's been the story of her life lately, and apparently it is the thing that isn't getting any better. She takes a breath before straightening a little more.

"Not a problem for me. Is it a problem for you?"

"No, it's not a problem at all. I'd want you to stay with us," Sam says to her earnestly, and if Dean wasn't in the room, there would be even more of a softer quality to his voice. He doesn't want Buffy to go, and it helps that he knows just how powerful she is. Sam always worries about putting people in danger, but at this juncture, it'd be safer to stick together.

He can't risk Bete Noire dragging them back without them figuring it out first.

Sam turns back to Dean and nods at him. "Thanks, man. For believing us."

Dean can be a real dick sometimes, but not so much that he'd turn someone out in a situation like this. It's not her fault she's here, and she's here with Sam--what's he going to do, leave her by the side of the road someplace? No way.

"Don't worry about it."

A pause.

"Either one of you hurt or anything?"

Buffy shakes her head. "Other than my dignity? No. But my dignity is used to it."

Sadly, this is actually the truth. She's starting to think that as a consequence for using Satsu, she's never allowed to have uncomplicated sex again.

Sam is back to scratching the back of his head awkwardly. Dean may be totally nonchalant about sex but Sam's a little more private than that.

And alluding to anything about what they were doing, with Buffy there, more importantly, is not something he wants to do.

"We're both good," Sam says, clearing his throat. "Real good. Aside from the obvious. We--yeah. You?"

Why the eff would Dean be injured right now, Sam? Seriously. Your deflection fails.

Blink, blink, smirk.

"I'm fine."

Blink.

"Only thing interrupted was me getting a Coke. And I'll live."

Smirk.

"So what's the chances anything followed you guys through... whatever the hell it was that brought you here?"

Buffy frowns, before shaking her head. "No. I'm pretty sure we were alone. And if we weren't -- there's a chance that it's just some other human who caught caught in the middle. The city was mostly normal people."

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motel 6 } { ain't no need to plan it, jump right in and jam it

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