Title: Andrew’s Cooking
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural
Warnings: Don’t eat or drink anything while reading this. You may regret it.
A/N: Blame this one on LadyFoxFire, she’s been sending me plot bunnies.
It had been a very long night. Not only had they gone on patrol with some of the resident Slayers, they had also dealt with the ghost that had been haunting the Slayer School ever since some of Xander’s reconstruction had stirred them up. So it was two very blurry eyed Winchesters who stumbled down into the dining room the next morning.
Neither the Slayers nor the Watchers had known that simply salting and burning the body of who the ghost had been was enough to break the connection that the dead person had with the world of the living. They had been very impressed with the Winchesters professional demeanor throughout the entire investigation and process. In fact, it really hadn’t taken that long to figure out just who was haunting the Slayer School. So it was a quick one day job as far as the Winchesters were concerned.
When they were asked what sort of creatures and demons they had experience with Dean had simply handed over his father’s journal to Willow and said, “You can look at that as long as one of us is with you. If you can make heads or tails out of, that is.”
John had smacked his son not so gently on the back of the head. “What?! You write like freaking Yoda, Dad. You know you do.” All that got Dean was a disgruntled look and a shovel handed to him. “Yes, sir.”
Now surrounded by the teenaged Slayers, who were not at all tired from their ‘fun’ night, both Dean and John sat down at the table for breakfast before leaving for their next job. When Andrew set the large platter down on the table in front of them they weren’t listening to his babble about something involving a comic book, or was that a sci-fi series? In fact, it wasn’t until he removed the lid that they reacted at all.
Both Winchesters jumped up and backwards knocking over their chairs and pulling their guns and firing at the same time. If they had been a little less of marksmen, there might have been a bigger fatality than just breakfast; and the clothing of the Slayer who had been sitting in front of them. “What the hell are you doing setting a freaking (something or other Dean wasn’t too coherent at this point)”
“Please tell me that wasn’t breakfast,” was all John had to say. The adrenalin rush wasn’t his preferred wake up method. He really preferred coffee.
“It’s really not as bad as it looks,” one Slayer offered. She picked an unidentifiable piece out of her sweater and popped it in her mouth. “It’s just that Andrew is the only one around here that can cook without turning it into a sparing session and after the last time more than two Slayers in the kitchen at once have been banned.”
Both Winchesters looked on in horror as the Slayers shrugged off the incident and began to eat their breakfast. Not wanting to be shown up by a bunch of little girls, John and Dean joined them. Not however, without promising themselves that they would never eat anything here ever again.