A Little Exchange
Diclaimer: Buffy, nor Supernatural, belong to me, but to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke, respectively. I think the term is “respectively”…
Spoilers: Post “Chosen” for Buffy and post “Shadow” for Supernatural
‘I’ve got two sons, Dean and Sam…’
Willow replayed the conversation in her head countless times. Yes, she offered to repay the man in any way she could. Was it too much for her to hope that he wanted something simple? Like, maybe help on his next hunt? His job had to be tough, being alone, so she would have gladly offered to help, or at least, send one of the mini-slayers out to help.
And that thought brought up another one. They couldn’t keep calling the newly called slayers the mini-slayers. Maybe another name. Well, Anya did have a habit of calling them “cannon-fodder” when they were still potentials. Willow quickly got rid of that thought. Cannon fodder definitely wouldn’t work.
Willow stopped mid step when she realized she had completely gotten off track. She was supposed to be wondering just how John Winchester had gotten her to agree to look after his sons. She wasn’t some magical bodyguard, or at least, not to those who weren’t on the Council payroll! And just how was she supposed to get these two to trust her. If they were anything like their dad, they’d have a gun to her face in no time.
“Are you Willow Rosenberg?”
She turned her head in the direction of the voice. Her eyes met the yellow sun and she squinted. She could barely make out the two figures in front of her.
“Sorry,” one of them spoke. They made their way around the picnic table she was sitting at and sat across from her. She had no idea who they were, but when one of them, the blond, pulled out a gun and set it in front of him, she instantly knew they were the sons of John Winchester. No one else would pull a gun out in a public park, in the middle of the day, surrounded by kids, she was sure.
“Dean,” the brunet spoke. Willow could tell he was the more reasonable one.
“So I see your dad told you about me,” she tried to start a conversation. To anyone else, it would seem difficult to do that, what with the gun being there, but last week, John did the same thing and that worked out fine, right?
“Just that he was sending a witch to help us,” the one named Dean answered. “Don’t really need a witch, though.”
“And you won’t get one with that attitude, buster,” Willow threw her hand in the air, a sign of annoyance. Dean, on the other hand, took that as a sign of attack and the gun that was resting untouched on the table was soon pointing at Willow.
“Dean!” Sam yelled as he put his hand on Dean’s arm, trying to calm him. “She wasn’t casting anything.”
“Yes, listen to the sane one,” Willow said under her breath. The gun went back on the table, but Dean was still tense. “Look, I know you don’t want me to help you, but I’m doing this as a favor to your dad. So, I figure, I can help you with whatever thing you need and I’ll be on my way.”
The two brothers looked at Willow confused for a moment and then at one another. Willow caught the second look, and tilted her head to the side, trying to find out why they were looking at one another like that. Pushing a strand of red hair behind her ear, she spoke, “Did I miss something when I was babbling?”
“Um, Willow, just what exactly did our dad ask you?” Sam asked.
“After I helped him, I told him that I’d be willing to do a favor for him. He told me to basically look out for you, so I assumed that meant help out with whatever you guys were fighting at the moment.”
Dean shook his head as he smirked. “He tricked you to insure we’d be safe.”
Willow blinked once, and then a second time. That bast—mean man tricked her! And she didn’t even know how. Keeping her exterior features cool, she asked, “How?”
“When he said look out for us, he meant he wanted you to take us to your slayer friend. Figured you and her could protect us from the demon he’s chasin’.”
“Oh,” Willow looked stunned. She didn’t think of the loopholes of her suggestion to John. That man really was a smart one. Too bad this situation didn’t really work for her. But, maybe recruiting people who fought the good fight wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Look, we don’t wanna do this, and you certainly don’t wanna either, so we’ll be on our way,” Dean spoke again. He stood from the bench, but was stopped by Willow.
“Here’s the deal,” her tone changed. After months of working at the Council and being a part-time Watcher, she noticed that people had a tendency to actually listen to her when she spoke this way. “Your dad wanted you to have the protection of the Council, and you’ll get it. I know you’d rather be out hunting and that’s what you’ll be doing. Except, you’ll be getting paid. If we come across something that’s near you, you’ll go and handle it and then you can go back to hunting whatever you want. That’s fair and equal, right?”
Even though she went to serious mode, she still babbled, but it was a serious babble and that’s all that mattered.
Dean took in the information. It sounded fair to him, but that was all talk. Saying something and actually doing it was two completely different things.
“Yup, all the active slayers receive some sort of fee,” Willow nodded.
Sam, who had been silent most of the time, perked up. “I thought there was only one slayer?”
Willow ducked her head, and smiled slightly at the memory. She fixed her gaze back on Sam, and Dean, who had sat back down.
“Let me tell you about the 2002-2003 season of the Scoobies on the Hellmouth and what led to us becoming an army of many,” Willow smiled as she told the story.
Trust me, there will be another follow-up to this follow-up. This doesn't show much, but more is coming!