Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Setting up the New Council

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

This story is No. 8 in the series "Dawn Winchester verse". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Settling down and reorganizing the Council are only a few of the things on the Winchester Clan's plate. They also need to repay a little debt.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Multiple Pairings
Supernatural > Multiple Pairings
dragonfanFR151530,01168351,8169 Mar 0730 Jun 10No

Welcoming the Saints

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Angel the Series
Stargate SG1
Law and Order: SVU
The Boondock Saints

A/N: Welcome back to the Dawn Winchester Universe! Here is the settling down in Cleveland story.

Chapter One

Dean and Faith looked around the torn up and mostly abandoned bar. “This is where the hellmouth is? This is almost as bad as having it under a school.” The main room was filled with dust, broken barstools, and a few knocked over chairs. The mirror behind the bar nothing more than a shattered mess although the bar itself was still intact. “Are you sure its here?” he asked again.

Faith snorted at her boyfriend, “What you don’t trust my Slayer senses?”

“I was just expecting something more, you know? If this is where the hellmouth is there should at least be a nest of vampires here. Where are all the big bads?” Dean spun around. “It shouldn’t be this easy to get close to it.”

“Well, it’s right about,” she moved around and then suddenly jumped over the bar and went over to a small door that was set into the wall that made up the bottom of the u-shape of the bar, wall and mirrored wall, “here.” She opened it and found a closet. “Well, it’s in the closet.”

Dean sighed and leaned on the bar. “Well, there are so many things I could say about that one that I can’t pick just one,” he admitted.

Faith threw back her head and laughed. It was barely a month since Sunnydale had fallen into a giant sinkhole. The spring quarter had already started for the University of California and Harvard, which meant that three of the members of their family were on opposite coasts of the country right now. Sam was going to medical school in LA along with his new girlfriend Aphra, and helping out Angel Investigations on the side. Tara and Willow had already moved to Boston, where Tara was attending Harvard and Willow was attending MIT. Dawn brought the girls back to Cleveland every Friday afternoon through one of her portals. Sam had too much work to do to take advantage of his little sister’s ability except for special occasions. Giles and Joyce were in England, working on taking care of transferring what was left of the Watcher’s Council to Cleveland.

The rest of them were in here Cleveland, doing their best to turn the Jekfoontar Clan mansion into a school for Slayers, Watchers and other demon hunters. And one of the first things on their list to do, once they had caught their breath, set up who was going where, etc. was to find out exactly where the new hellmouth was. Buffy had turned that over to Faith and Dean. “You are better at sensing evil than I ever was Faith.” That recommendation, while completely true, had meant a great deal to Faith. It had knocked out the last little tiny bit of envy Faith had for Buffy.

“You know, this place looks like it might be for sale,” she said as she wandered around picking up bottles and examining them. “I think that the reason it went under is because it only served humans.”

“What are you thinking Faith?” Dean asked.

“Why don’t we buy it? I mean, that way we have access to the damn thing and we’ll always have a Slayer or two on hand any time someone tries to open it. And if we make it a demon bar, it’ll be a neutral place where we can get information. My great uncle ran a bar in Boston. Before my first Watcher came and got me I waited tables sometimes.” Faith shrugged, “I think we can make a go of it here. What do you think?”

Dean leaned back against the wall and seriously thought about it. While he had enjoyed working with his dad and brother at the garage in Sunnydale, Sam was in LA at school and his dad had his hands full helping Xander to figure out how to rebuild the mansion into a school. He had no idea how to help with that and he had been sort of feeling like a fifth wheel. Running a bar was something that he could do and even better would be guarding the hellmouth while he did it.

“We have Slayers that are over twenty one now and this could be a short summer job for them. That would make a good cover story for them to tell their boss, family, friends, whoever. And Willow did clear up my police file so I’m legally alive again. Buffy and Dad gave me a portion of the cache so I could afford it. We’d probably have to switch patrol routes with Buffy though.”

“We’d need a manager to run the office, do inventory, payroll, that sort of thing.” Faith walked out of the run down building with her arm around Dean, discussing the possibility of them buying the bar and running it together.


In Boston, Willow and Tara weren’t having a good day. First they had over slept, then they had barely made it to their classes, then they were both given major papers to do and to top it off when they finally dragged themselves out of the library to walk home that night they were grabbed by a couple of ‘procurers’ for the local pimps! If it hadn’t been for the magic lessons that Elizabeth had been teaching them to control their magic when their tempers were high the two dumb idjets would have been two smears on the sidewalk. As it was, the witches had decided to let the idiots take them to where ever it was they were going to be turned over to the pimps. They were in no real danger and this way, perhaps they could make sure that the local criminals knew not to mess with them unless it was business of the apocalyptic type.

They never got the chance. Just after the pimps arrived three men burst into the room and shot the procurers and the pimps. While they did have experience with more lethal guns thanks to their association with the Winchesters, they had never been so close to the receiving end of the guns before. Demons didn’t usually shoot their victims. Then to their amazement, all three men started praying over the bodies, placing pennies on their eyes. “Shepherds we shall be, For thee, my Lord, for thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, So our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands. We will flow a river forth to Thee, And teeming with souls shall it ever be. In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti.”

As the witches stared at them in shock, the older man, easily older than John Winchester from the looks of him, came and squatted down in front of them. “Don’t ya worry none lassies. These scumbags won’t hurtcha none any more,” he said in a heavy Irish brogue.

“Da,” the taller of the two younger ones called, “We need ta get the lassies home and call Sam. He’ll need ta know their alright.”

“Conner, Da!” called the shorter one. “These fuckers got two more over here!” Willow could hear the outrage in his voice. She hadn’t seen him go into the other room. “They canna be more’n twelve!”

“Are they alright Murph?” the men both called as they turned towards the bedroom.

Willow didn’t wait to hear the answer. They had work to do. “Excuse me,” she said and as the two men turned towards them she used a little magic to untie herself and Tara. She knew that it would have been better to ask the men to untie them but they didn’t have time. They had to get to the little girls before the men did. “I know that you probably wouldn’t hurt them, but they don’t know that so we need to get in there.” She jumped up and brushed by the men who were staring at the ropes in shock.

“Conner, didn’t Sammy say that the lasses needed our sorta help?” The Duke asked his son.

“Aye Da, that he did. Said that they couldna fight again our sort a evil,” Conner said, his hand brushing through his sandy blond hair.

“Then what was that?” he asked as he waved his gun at the ropes.

“I guess that means that they can fight his sort,” Conner shrugged. They looked over as a small hand pushed Murphy out of the bedroom and into the living room of the small apartment.

Murphy looked over at his twin and father and shrugged. “They’re helping the wee lasses.” He looked at the corpses, wishing now that he had left one alive so that he could kill them again. “We need ta get them outa here ‘for the cops show up.”

“Aye,” came the agreement from both men. “As soon as the wee lasses can travel, unless Sammy’s friends say otherwise,” The Duke decided. It wasn’t wise to piss off the friends of a Winchester, not even for them.

“They can travel now as long as you have a car,” came a quiet voice. Tara and Willow were standing in the bedroom doorway, both of them holding a girl wrapped in a blanket. “We can take them where they’ll be safe.” And they would because tomorrow was Friday and that meant that they could take them to Cleveland. No one would be able to hurt them with a bunch of Slayers watching over them.

“Follow me then,” Murphy said eager to get out of there. He didn’t like hanging around after a hit unless it was in a better place than this. Conner grabbed one of the two briefcases and The Duke grabbed the other. No one would look twice at them in this neighborhood. Everyone knew the Saints and wished them well for the most part. They only killed criminals.

Back at Willow and Tara’s apartment they put the unconscious girls on their bed and then went to face their rescuers. The three men were standing in the middle of the living room, looking around but not touching anything. It was like they were doing their best to be respectful. “I’m Willow and this is Tara. I guess we should say thank you for the rescue. How did you know we needed it or did you?” Willow asked. She wasn’t sure she liked this puzzle.

“Sammy Winchester called us, lass. He said you were in our sorta trouble and needed help,” The Duke said quietly. “But now I’m not so sure he was right. Those lads didna work for the usual scumbags we have on the streets here in Boston. I didna recognize either of the buyers.”

“Well, they weren’t our sort either, nothing magical or demonic about them at all,” Willow admitted. “I was sure they were procurers and pimps though.”

“Oh the ones that grabbed ya, those were procurers as ya say,” Murphy admitted freely. “But them buyers, they weren’t pimps. We know all of the local boys. Na, these two weren’t from around here.”

“Think we should call?” Conner asked.

“He’s a good man, fer all he’s going ta hell for his sins,” The Duke said. “He won’t like it that they had the wee lasses. Give him a call while I call Sammy.” The two men reached for cell phones and left Willow and Tara with Murphy who was jiggling in place.

Tara recognized the movements before Willow did. “If you’d like, you can smoke out on the balcony,” she said softly and pointed to the balcony door.

“Thanks lass,” Murphy said sheepishly.

“Wonder what’s going on now?” Willow said quietly as she leaned into Tara. Tara simply shrugged as she leaned her head on Willow’s shoulder. It had been a long day.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking