James Dean He Wasn’t (Buffy/SPN)
Title :: James Dean He Wasn’t
Rating :: FR13
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises & The CW Network. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.
Summary :: Mockery and caustic teenagers do not make for a good morning.
Prompt :: “Buffy!Guidance Councelor @ Sunnydale High”
by Dana James Dean He Wasn’t
A slow and lazy smile tugged at the corners of a mouth that was more familiar with an insolent remark than giving a direct answer as a teenager made himself comfortable at the entrance to her cubby by leaning on the glass. Buffy ignored the urge to roll her eyes and instead motioned Dean Winchester—the newest bane of her guidance counselor existence—to have a seat in front of her as she gathered up her notes from the previous student and put them to the side.
Rolling her shoulders back rather then allowing them to slump forward in a defeat at the sight of him, Buffy urged herself to remain calm and greeted him with an even tone, brownie point to her, “Good morning, Dean.”
“Hey, Ms. Summers,” he dropped a yellow administration letter on her desk and took a seat across from her, sliding his body downward so that only his shoulders were pressed against the back of his chair and the rest of him was on casual display as his leather jacket, a size or two too big for him, fell open to frame his chest and stomach.
A brow arched at the way his gaze slid around her small cubby, as if checking for danger, before she shook her head at the Scooby related thought and glanced down, brows pulling together at the note ‘inappropriate attire’ listed as the reason for his most recent visit. Buffy had seen a lot of Dean Winchester in the few short days he’d been at Sunnydale High with his younger brother. Though Sam didn’t seem to lack people skills unlike some Winchesters, but she wasn’t going to dwell on the one and only phone call she shared with John Winchester. Instead Buffy focused on the newest uprising caused by the caustic teenager in front of her, but even she was drawing a blank at the reason listed.
Buffy’s head lifted from her study of the note to study his clothing before she inquired, “Inappropriate attire?” Green eyes narrowed as she watched Dean shifted, his mouth forming an uneasy line as his gaze turned toward the window to the left of her desk, and she continued, “What’s wrong with your attire?”
Dean stopped watching the people in the hallway outside the administrative offices and frowned at her, before clearing his throat and sitting up just a bit. “My jeans are ripped.”
His explanation only deepened her frown. “So?”
Dean’s brows rose, high and amused before he cleared his throat and half explained, “The student handbook,” he paused when she snorted and Buffy worked hard not to blush before waiving a hand for him to continue. His gaze searched her face a moment before he stated, voice tired, “Look, I know the book says I hafta wear clothing without tears of any kind,” he lifted his right knee, showing the rip that went across it and dropped it back down, before finishing, his voice taking on a combative tone, “I guess I just don’t live up to Sunnydale High’s high expectations.”
Buffy chose to overlook his mockery, since he was sort of in the right this time, and instead offered, “Has anyone taken the time to show you around campus yet?”
A slow blink accompanied his, “Come again?”
Pushing herself back from her desk and rising, Buffy offered the teenager an olive branch that she hoped he wouldn’t set on fire. “Look, I can show you around campus which will take up the rest of this period,” at his slow smile of comprehension, Buffy felt compelled to offer, “which in turn won’t give you the chance to mock Mr. Harvey’s hair or waistline thus forcing him to send you to me. Again.”
Dean rose and Buffy frowned at the fact that the teenager towered over her petite frame even with her three inch pumps. He glanced down at her and that lazy smile returned as Dean stated, “Maybe I mock those things so he will
send me to you.”
“Uh huh.” Buffy quirked a brow as she led them from her cubby and towards the entrance to the office area. “And maybe I like myself not behind bars.”
His long stride eased past her and he opened the door for her, causing Buffy’s eyes t0 narrow and as she passed him and Dean offered, “I’m eighteen.”
“And I’m not interested.”
“Not even a little?”
Buffy lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as she shook her head and realized Dean the adversary might have been a much easier thing to handle then Dean the teacher’s pet. The end.