Buffy Summers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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alltheroads2011-05-04 06:17 pm
kiss_evilgoodbye) wrote in alltheroads2011-05-04 06:17 pm
Entry tags:
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?”
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?”
no subject
...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?"
no subject
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.
no subject
... 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.
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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?"
no subject
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.
no subject
"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."
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
"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."
no subject
"Not a problem for me. Is it a problem for you?"
no subject
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."
no subject
"Don't worry about it."
A pause.
"Either one of you hurt or anything?"
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject