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Title: Not The Usual Way We Do Things - Part 1 of 2
Fandom: SPN/Buffy
Pairing: Sam/Faith
Rating: Adult Themes
Word Count: 1,765
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Summary: He was starting to wonder if this girl was just plain crazy, but there was the whole absence thing, like she was a girl-shaped hole cut out of the world instead of existing in it. That and she did, indeed, hit like a truck.
It was an absence mostly.
Sam had gotten so used to using whatever it was that was inside his brain that wasn’t in everyone else’s, that he didn’t even really have to concentrate anymore. He instinctively knew where people were in a room, how close and their intentions if he focused. Someone had walked into the bar and the most notable thing was the nothingness they projected.
A girl with dark hair and darker eyes sidled up to the bar and leant a hip next to him. Sam turned slowly, knowing this sense of nothing was coming from her. When he concentrated really hard, the only thing he got was the word generation tolling through his mind like a bell.
“What’s a tall drink of water like you doin’ in a hole like this?” she asked, her voice low and sultry like a dirty story.
“I-“ He didn’t even see her move, but when his face met the top of the bar hard, he figured she must have.
~~~
Sam came awake to a feeling of cold on his face and a dull throbbing ache. Something black and wet was taken away from his eyes and a face hovered above him.
Girl from the bar.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Thought you were a demon,” she said, half-shrugging, a delicate lift of one shoulder that said she wasn’t too cut up about it.
Sam sat up slowly, waiting for the dizziness to recede before he risked talking. “Do you make a habit of…whatever it is that you did back there?” He knew he sounded pissy, but reaching up fingers to gently check his nose for damage, he felt the tone was justified. Not broken, just mushed, thank god.
“More of a lifestyle,” the girl smirked, tossing the ice pack at Sam and standing. He looked around and realised he was in his own hotel room.
“How did you know where to bring me?” he asked slowly, dread nudging at his mind.
“Been watchin’ you since you blew into this town. Thought we were going to have to throw down. Seeing you go down like a sack of potatoes put paid to that.” The girl was moving about the room like a caged lion, only pausing every now and again to trace a hand over the couch, or finger one of Sam’s books or his laptop.
“I did not go down… look, what do you want?” Sam slid off the bed and crossed to the room’s table to smack her hands away from his computer.
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I kinda hit like a Mack truck instead of a girl and you know, not being demon means I coulda made paste of your face.”
“Why didn’t you take me to a hospital then?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at her as she threw herself down on the room’s one ratty armchair, long legs thrown over the back.
“Didn’t figure you for the hospital type,” she said.
“I… no, not really. You still haven’t explained why you hit me.”
The girl scrunched up her face and scooched down in the chair, digging into a jeans pocket and coming up with an empty cigarette packet that she checked and then tossed across the room. “Figured anyone that picks a slayer in a crowded room has gotta be demon.”
“A whatta?” Sam asked, blinking.
“A slay… oh you’re kidding me!” The girl was laughing now, dark haloed head thrown back. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
“I think we established that,” Sam snapped, getting more annoyed by the minute. He was starting to wonder if this girl was just plain crazy, but there was the whole absence thing, like she was a girl-shaped hole cut out of the world instead of existing in it. That and she did, indeed, hit like a truck.
“Nah, it’s cool man. Look, I gotta take off, got places to be and people to do. Have a good one. Keep the ice on.” As she skirted past him, she touched fingers to the back of his hand holding the ice bag and tilted it back up towards his face.
“Name’s Faith,” she threw over her shoulder. Sam felt the touch long after she’d slid out the door.
~~~
“Ah! For chrissakes!” Sam startled awake when pain exploded in his face.
“What the hell happened to you?” Dean demanded, taking his hands away and lowering himself onto the opposite bed.
“What the fuck man?” Sam grumbled, stumbling towards the bathroom. When he turned the light on, he winced. There was a little blood under his nose and it looked okay, but bruising had spread out on either side under his eyes, making it look like he’d been socked twice.
“I said, what happened?” Dean was in the doorway, glowering.
“Goddam it, nothing okay? I’m fine. It looks worse than it is. She-“
Sam realised his mistake as soon as he’d made it.
“She?” Dean spluttered, concern draining off his face, wiped clean when he snorted with laughter. “You mean a chick beat you up?”
“She wasn’t…ah hell. Just shut up okay?”
“Dude, if you think you are living this down this side of ever then you are sadly mistaken.”
“You have your whole life to be a jackass, just take tonight off, will ya?” Sam padded back into the main room, shouldering past Dean. “You went out for a reason, remember? Did you find anything other than a case of the clap?”
Dean put a hand to his chest. “Don’t try deflecting onto me. You’re the one who got bitch slapped.”
“Dean!” Sam growled.
“Fine, fine. I didn’t get much but I got a place to start.” He pulled a crumpled bit of paper out of his jacket pocket, looked at it for a second and shoved it back, digging around until he found another piece of paper. Sam gave out a long suffering sigh and snatched it from Dean’s fingers.
“Big old spooky house huh?” he asked wryly and Dean grimaced. “Why is it always a big old spooky house?”
“Beats me Sammy. When I go, I’m going to be haunting a penthouse.”
Sam snorted as he booted up his laptop, looking for any information on the address on the piece of paper Dean had just handed over.
~~~
Sam was actually surprised he recognised Faith considering he was currently hanging upside down, held aloft by one boot by a seven foot something that oozed brackish liquid and stunk of the afterlife. Dean had been knocked somewhere off into the darkness and there’d be an ominous amount of thumps that meant he’d potentially fallen down stairs.
Sam’s initial panic was replaced by confusion. He wondered dully if he was hallucinating due to all the blood in his body currently pooling at his temple, right up to the point where Faith vaulted onto the thing’s back, arms around its too massive throat. It let out a squeal and Sam was unceremoniously dropped.
Sam stood and shook the dizziness from his head, taking a few tottering steps towards where he’d seen Dean thrown. He looked back to check and as he suspected, Faith seemed to be holding her own.
Sam found Dean under a pile of rotted plaster, just coming around. Dean looked up at him blearily, rubbing plaster out of his eyes. “You kill it?” he asked, letting Sam help him to his feet.
“It’s being… taken care of,” Sam said, getting an arm under his brother.
“What? You mean you came to look for me before it was dead? Did I teach you nothing?” Dean pulled himself away from Sam, his eyes casting about warily and pulling his gun free from the back of his jeans. The sounds of a scuffle could be heard clearly from the next room and Dean looked at Sam for a second with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do? Tie it up?”
Sam and Dean came back into the room to see Faith letting it go and stepping away. Instinct took over and they both raised their weapons, firing. Sam thought he heard Faith yelling “No!” dimly, but he dismissed it as crazy.
It took both of them emptying their guns before the creature finally slumped to the ground. It smoked and bubbled and was still and Dean and Sam took a second to grin at each other.
“Are you both completely stupid?”
Dean startled, bringing his gun up again, having missed seeing Faith initially. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, then turned on Sam. “Who the hell is this?”
“This is the girl,” Sam said, tapping his nose. “Faith.”
Faith had hunkered down next to the creature and was poking it with a wicked-looking blade, a stormy expression on her face. “Well, it’s dead. That’s just perfect.”
“We like to think so,” Dean grumbled, looking a little pissed himself. “Any reason why you wouldn’t want to kill a giant hell beast thing?”
Faith stood. “Usually no, not unless the Arekas Demon has a pile of eggs that it’s been lugging across three states and hiding whenever it stopped. I’ve been tracking it for weeks.”
“Well, we found it in two days,” Dean huffed, smug smile in place. Sam remembered the way the girl in front of them could hit so stepped half in front of Dean.
“Do you know where it stashed its eggs this time?”
“No, hence me following it. I was all ready to track it back to its nest when these two guys blunder-“
“Blunder?” Dean croaked. He hadn’t put his gun away yet and Sam was starting to get the impression that he was just itching to use it.
“Blunder in so it can toss them about for a while before string-bean here nearly gets eaten.”
Dean was looking angry right up until that point. Then he broke into chuckles, putting the gun back in his jeans. “String bean? Dude, you nearly get eaten?” he asked, still snorting.
“Oh fine!” Sam snapped, throwing up his hands. “Look, how do we find where this thing stashed its eggs?”
“Look for signs and reports. Usually the places the eggs are have an increase in pet deaths in the immediate area and rot through the ground because the eggs leech nutrients right out of the topsoil. Ugh, listen to me. I could really use a Willow about now.”
“What’s a Willow?” Sam asked.
“Geeky research chick,” Faith elaborated, leaning over to cut a horn free from the Arekas demon with her blade.
“We got one of those,” Dean grinned, slapping Sam on the stomach.
Part Two
Fandom: SPN/Buffy
Pairing: Sam/Faith
Rating: Adult Themes
Word Count: 1,765
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Summary: He was starting to wonder if this girl was just plain crazy, but there was the whole absence thing, like she was a girl-shaped hole cut out of the world instead of existing in it. That and she did, indeed, hit like a truck.
It was an absence mostly.
Sam had gotten so used to using whatever it was that was inside his brain that wasn’t in everyone else’s, that he didn’t even really have to concentrate anymore. He instinctively knew where people were in a room, how close and their intentions if he focused. Someone had walked into the bar and the most notable thing was the nothingness they projected.
A girl with dark hair and darker eyes sidled up to the bar and leant a hip next to him. Sam turned slowly, knowing this sense of nothing was coming from her. When he concentrated really hard, the only thing he got was the word generation tolling through his mind like a bell.
“What’s a tall drink of water like you doin’ in a hole like this?” she asked, her voice low and sultry like a dirty story.
“I-“ He didn’t even see her move, but when his face met the top of the bar hard, he figured she must have.
~~~
Sam came awake to a feeling of cold on his face and a dull throbbing ache. Something black and wet was taken away from his eyes and a face hovered above him.
Girl from the bar.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Thought you were a demon,” she said, half-shrugging, a delicate lift of one shoulder that said she wasn’t too cut up about it.
Sam sat up slowly, waiting for the dizziness to recede before he risked talking. “Do you make a habit of…whatever it is that you did back there?” He knew he sounded pissy, but reaching up fingers to gently check his nose for damage, he felt the tone was justified. Not broken, just mushed, thank god.
“More of a lifestyle,” the girl smirked, tossing the ice pack at Sam and standing. He looked around and realised he was in his own hotel room.
“How did you know where to bring me?” he asked slowly, dread nudging at his mind.
“Been watchin’ you since you blew into this town. Thought we were going to have to throw down. Seeing you go down like a sack of potatoes put paid to that.” The girl was moving about the room like a caged lion, only pausing every now and again to trace a hand over the couch, or finger one of Sam’s books or his laptop.
“I did not go down… look, what do you want?” Sam slid off the bed and crossed to the room’s table to smack her hands away from his computer.
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I kinda hit like a Mack truck instead of a girl and you know, not being demon means I coulda made paste of your face.”
“Why didn’t you take me to a hospital then?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at her as she threw herself down on the room’s one ratty armchair, long legs thrown over the back.
“Didn’t figure you for the hospital type,” she said.
“I… no, not really. You still haven’t explained why you hit me.”
The girl scrunched up her face and scooched down in the chair, digging into a jeans pocket and coming up with an empty cigarette packet that she checked and then tossed across the room. “Figured anyone that picks a slayer in a crowded room has gotta be demon.”
“A whatta?” Sam asked, blinking.
“A slay… oh you’re kidding me!” The girl was laughing now, dark haloed head thrown back. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
“I think we established that,” Sam snapped, getting more annoyed by the minute. He was starting to wonder if this girl was just plain crazy, but there was the whole absence thing, like she was a girl-shaped hole cut out of the world instead of existing in it. That and she did, indeed, hit like a truck.
“Nah, it’s cool man. Look, I gotta take off, got places to be and people to do. Have a good one. Keep the ice on.” As she skirted past him, she touched fingers to the back of his hand holding the ice bag and tilted it back up towards his face.
“Name’s Faith,” she threw over her shoulder. Sam felt the touch long after she’d slid out the door.
~~~
“Ah! For chrissakes!” Sam startled awake when pain exploded in his face.
“What the hell happened to you?” Dean demanded, taking his hands away and lowering himself onto the opposite bed.
“What the fuck man?” Sam grumbled, stumbling towards the bathroom. When he turned the light on, he winced. There was a little blood under his nose and it looked okay, but bruising had spread out on either side under his eyes, making it look like he’d been socked twice.
“I said, what happened?” Dean was in the doorway, glowering.
“Goddam it, nothing okay? I’m fine. It looks worse than it is. She-“
Sam realised his mistake as soon as he’d made it.
“She?” Dean spluttered, concern draining off his face, wiped clean when he snorted with laughter. “You mean a chick beat you up?”
“She wasn’t…ah hell. Just shut up okay?”
“Dude, if you think you are living this down this side of ever then you are sadly mistaken.”
“You have your whole life to be a jackass, just take tonight off, will ya?” Sam padded back into the main room, shouldering past Dean. “You went out for a reason, remember? Did you find anything other than a case of the clap?”
Dean put a hand to his chest. “Don’t try deflecting onto me. You’re the one who got bitch slapped.”
“Dean!” Sam growled.
“Fine, fine. I didn’t get much but I got a place to start.” He pulled a crumpled bit of paper out of his jacket pocket, looked at it for a second and shoved it back, digging around until he found another piece of paper. Sam gave out a long suffering sigh and snatched it from Dean’s fingers.
“Big old spooky house huh?” he asked wryly and Dean grimaced. “Why is it always a big old spooky house?”
“Beats me Sammy. When I go, I’m going to be haunting a penthouse.”
Sam snorted as he booted up his laptop, looking for any information on the address on the piece of paper Dean had just handed over.
~~~
Sam was actually surprised he recognised Faith considering he was currently hanging upside down, held aloft by one boot by a seven foot something that oozed brackish liquid and stunk of the afterlife. Dean had been knocked somewhere off into the darkness and there’d be an ominous amount of thumps that meant he’d potentially fallen down stairs.
Sam’s initial panic was replaced by confusion. He wondered dully if he was hallucinating due to all the blood in his body currently pooling at his temple, right up to the point where Faith vaulted onto the thing’s back, arms around its too massive throat. It let out a squeal and Sam was unceremoniously dropped.
Sam stood and shook the dizziness from his head, taking a few tottering steps towards where he’d seen Dean thrown. He looked back to check and as he suspected, Faith seemed to be holding her own.
Sam found Dean under a pile of rotted plaster, just coming around. Dean looked up at him blearily, rubbing plaster out of his eyes. “You kill it?” he asked, letting Sam help him to his feet.
“It’s being… taken care of,” Sam said, getting an arm under his brother.
“What? You mean you came to look for me before it was dead? Did I teach you nothing?” Dean pulled himself away from Sam, his eyes casting about warily and pulling his gun free from the back of his jeans. The sounds of a scuffle could be heard clearly from the next room and Dean looked at Sam for a second with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do? Tie it up?”
Sam and Dean came back into the room to see Faith letting it go and stepping away. Instinct took over and they both raised their weapons, firing. Sam thought he heard Faith yelling “No!” dimly, but he dismissed it as crazy.
It took both of them emptying their guns before the creature finally slumped to the ground. It smoked and bubbled and was still and Dean and Sam took a second to grin at each other.
“Are you both completely stupid?”
Dean startled, bringing his gun up again, having missed seeing Faith initially. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, then turned on Sam. “Who the hell is this?”
“This is the girl,” Sam said, tapping his nose. “Faith.”
Faith had hunkered down next to the creature and was poking it with a wicked-looking blade, a stormy expression on her face. “Well, it’s dead. That’s just perfect.”
“We like to think so,” Dean grumbled, looking a little pissed himself. “Any reason why you wouldn’t want to kill a giant hell beast thing?”
Faith stood. “Usually no, not unless the Arekas Demon has a pile of eggs that it’s been lugging across three states and hiding whenever it stopped. I’ve been tracking it for weeks.”
“Well, we found it in two days,” Dean huffed, smug smile in place. Sam remembered the way the girl in front of them could hit so stepped half in front of Dean.
“Do you know where it stashed its eggs this time?”
“No, hence me following it. I was all ready to track it back to its nest when these two guys blunder-“
“Blunder?” Dean croaked. He hadn’t put his gun away yet and Sam was starting to get the impression that he was just itching to use it.
“Blunder in so it can toss them about for a while before string-bean here nearly gets eaten.”
Dean was looking angry right up until that point. Then he broke into chuckles, putting the gun back in his jeans. “String bean? Dude, you nearly get eaten?” he asked, still snorting.
“Oh fine!” Sam snapped, throwing up his hands. “Look, how do we find where this thing stashed its eggs?”
“Look for signs and reports. Usually the places the eggs are have an increase in pet deaths in the immediate area and rot through the ground because the eggs leech nutrients right out of the topsoil. Ugh, listen to me. I could really use a Willow about now.”
“What’s a Willow?” Sam asked.
“Geeky research chick,” Faith elaborated, leaning over to cut a horn free from the Arekas demon with her blade.
“We got one of those,” Dean grinned, slapping Sam on the stomach.
Part Two
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Bwahahahahahah! I love it! I love Buffy/SPN crossovers to begin with, but this is really well done. I like the banter between Faith and Dean too.
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*taps foot impatiently*
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Thanks for sharing. :)
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;)
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Loved this bit:
Did you find anything other than a case of the clap?”
Dean put a hand to his chest. “Don’t try deflecting onto me. You’re the one who got bitch slapped.”
Classic :D
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