Title: The Truth Will Set You Free
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al.
Team/Challenge: Team Roadhouse - #6 - Amnesty - Hellfire - #4 - Magically bound together.
Word Count: 1,150.
Summary: How one conversation can lead to the end of the world.
Notes: I'm happily ignoring SPN 2x17.
Dean Winchester could not believe it, just as he had picked up the cuffs, the ones Sam had drilled into him could not
be touched by more the one person at once or they would be activated and you would be stuck with that person, in a small locked room, for 24 hours, the blonde ditz known as Buffy Summers had reached for them. If he'd met her in a bar or some other place maybe he would, ok, there was no maybe about it, he really would. Now, though? He was busy wishing he wasn't one of the good guys so he could blow her brains out to shut her up, or if that didn't work blow his out too.
Three hours in and she still hadn't shut up. He'd discovered she had been in town by herself, just picking up some mouldy old book for a friend of hers. She'd been passing the time until her flight out by nosing through the bargain buckets of the local 'magic' store. Which was nothing like a real
one. Apparently those kept their harmful and real magic stuff out of the bargain buckets... they cost more and some girl called Anya would never have let them be sold off on the cheap.
He'd made the mistake of asking her what she meant by 'real' magic. She'd looked at him the same way Sam did when he did something stupid and added that he really didn't look like the time to be bargain hunting in this type of store, so he knew exactly what she meant by 'real' magic.
He'd given up at that point, but half an hour later she was still going.
Three hours, only 21 more to go.
Seven hours in and Dean was no longer sure that Buffy Summers had any sanity at all. Or that she was really one of the good guys. Poor girl seemed a bit deluded actually. He had decided that since she seemed to know a bit about the life that she might have some good stories, if he had to listen to her maybe it could be something interesting.
He'd decided to start with witches, since she obviously knew about magic.
Everyone knew how bad they were, how bad they could get. First she had said something about cheerleaders, then a rat and then something about her best friend. Oh, sure, witches could go bad, could be easily influenced, it happens. But they could be turned back around.
Obviously the girl had never dealt with a real 'I'm going to end the world' type witch, like the one in Sammy's senior year.
Seven hours, only 17 more to go.
Ten and a half hours in and Dean was considering checking Buffy into a mental institution when the cuffs let go. The last three and a half hours had been devoted to werewolves. He had thought you couldn't go wrong there, the last one when he and Sam had still been kids had been a nightmare, even if he remembered it with no small amount of glee.
She had started in on him, saying that it was the hunters that were the bad guys when it came to werewolves, mostly, they were normal people most of the time and if they were good they kept themselves locked up around that time of the month. Anyone who said otherwise was as bad as the government. Not all of the werewolves were bad, and hunters should make sure first. He'd snorted at that. She'd added that some could even learn control. That was when he'd seriously begun considering that mental institution.
Ten and a half hours, only 13 and a half more to go.
17 hours in and Dean was planning ways to take Summers down if he and Sam ever came across her in the outside world. Vampires. One word and she was off. Oh, this time she'd been happy with the fact that the things were evil, she'd come across enough of them, but she had one or two exceptions. He'd laughed at that and told her she was insane.
Then came the six-hour rant about souls and chips. What snack food had to do with vampires, he still hadn't figured out.
17 hours, only seven more to go.
23 and a half hours in and Dean was contemplating murder, wondering if he could strangle her with his bare hands and get away with it. He'd made a last ditch attempt at finding something good in Buffy Summers. Demons.
The worst evil anyone can find in the world.
Again, she had been happy to admit that demons were a bad thing for the world and everyone in it. For a moment he had held his breath, thinking he'd finally found a point they could agree on.
Then she had mentioned the shop girl again, Anya. Anya was apparently, or had apparently been an ex-demon most of the time Buffy had known her. He was still confused as to how that worked, but Anya had died saving the world. Dean could admit this was bizarre behaviour for a demon.
Then she'd brought up some dude named Clem, he was a demon too and the worst he'd ever done was play kitten poker, which had led to a half hour discussion on exactly how that worked. Dean now knew more on that subject than he had ever wanted to know, including that it existed as a possibility.
Dean had held up his 'a demon is a demon' argument. She'd brought up some guy named Doyle who had visions and then some girl, Cordy, who'd always been a bitch but had given up her humanity to be able to keep the visions. He'd told her that that proved her insanity right there.
One minute ago Buffy Summers had announced that demons could be people too.
23 and a half hours, only half an hour to go.
The minute the walls disappeared around them and the cuffs clicked undone Dean was on his feet and turning for the door, cuffs in his back pocket.
He was free of her, what the hell did she want now?
She handed him a card, "If you ever need anything."
He turned it over and read the card, her contact details at something called the Watchers Council 2.0. He laughed and chucked it in the trashcan on the way out of the store.
As he turned the corner he missed the smirk that covered the face of Buffy Summers and the way that her eyes flashed yellow. The demon now knew that when the day came that the Winchester's were pointed in the direction of the Slayers for help they would never go. The Winchester's might not know it but they had lost, and all he had had to do was tell the truth.